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maximons · 3 years

Text

All Is Lost

Summary: Zombies have taken over the world, humanity on the edge of extinction. All hope was lost. Despite that, Wanda couldn’t seem to let go of Y/n, who had fallen victim to the plague herself.

Word Count: 2,263

Genre: Angst

Requested?: No

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, cannibalism, suicide, mentions of blood. Spoilers for Ep. 5 of What If...?

A/N: I know, I know, I’m gonna get into the stuff I promised soon. But for now, the Zombies episode inspired me and this came out. If you haven’t seen the episode yet, go watch it. Its amazing and depressing. Also this is DARK guys, probably the darkest thing I’ve ever written, so...Happy Reading!

The Zombie apocalypse was always something everyone joked about, but never something that anyone could actually predict.

Everything happened so quickly, Wanda could barely keep up. It’s hard to believe that everything was so normal only two weeks ago. Now, she was locked away with Vision in an abandoned military base in New Jersey. Desperate to survive for as long as possible while Vision worked on a cure.

Some of his experiments had been a success, most notably Scott Lang who he was able to revert back from his zombified state. However, the man was now only a severed head.

Despite the success, Vision was less than optimistic. For one, Scott was one of the first infected. While the cure worked on him, the android theorized that the disease has mutated greatly since then, and it was likely impossible to cure everyone. And even if he could, the technology to do so is beyond human comprehension and therefore doesn’t exist.

Vision might have all but given up hope, but Wanda didn’t. She couldn’t. She refused to give up on you.

Wanda and you have been best friends for as long as Wanda had been an Avenger. You were already a member of the team and greeted her with an open mind and open arms, despite all she had done. You had fire powers, and while your powers weren’t identical to Wanda’s, you still offered some basic tips and tricks to keep such explosive powers at bay.

It wasn’t a surprise that she fell in love with you.

But her stupid fear had to get in the way, and when you came to confess your own feelings for her, she panicked and rejected you. You were so heartbroken, Wanda didn’t need to read your mind to know that.

And it kills her everyday knowing that that was the last interaction she had with you. The last one with you as yourself anyway.

All that remained now was the flesh hungry, blood thirsty monster that wore your, now rotting, skin.

This wasn’t you, she knows that. She looked into your mind and saw no trace of the woman you once were, the one she loved with all her heart. She couldn’t feel you, you were gone.

Despite this, Wanda couldn’t let you go. She couldn’t handle losing you entirely. She already lost almost everyone.

She managed to convince Vision to keep you in the base for testing. You were locked behind a large steel door, with only a window to see you through. But you were here, and that’s all Wanda cared about.

The cure wasn’t working for you. Your powers caused it to incinerate when it entered your system, proving it to be ineffective. Still, she refused to give up.

Vision thought it best to terminate you after the failed tests, but Wanda begged him not to. Knowing he couldn’t overpower her, and sensing his friend’s distress with anything that comes to you, he agreed. As long as Wanda had it under control.

She doubted he knew that she was luring innocent survivors into the base so you could feed on them, but she did what she had to do.

Wanda spent most of her days sitting outside of your cell. The first few days, you were ravenous. Banging on the walls and trying to burn them down, growling and screeching with the inhuman noise that took over your vocal chords, but you didn’t manage to break free. After a while, it seemed you have given up, and just sat in place. Only moving when Wanda opened the cell and let some of your ‘food’ in.

There were times where Wanda thought that maybe, just maybe, the cure was working more than they thought. You seemed to have recognized her, your facial expressions formed into ones that she had recognized and missed dearly. But that hope quickly died when she would peek into your head and still sense nothing.

“Hey, Y/n.” Wanda walked up to outside your cell and sat cross-legged like she did everyday. Your head rose, staring at her with your now glowing yellow eyes. “Still no progress on the cure, but don’t worry, I’m not giving up yet.” You offered no response, not that she expected one. “It’s hard. It’s only getting worse out there...” She sighed as she trailed off. She raised her hand to the glass, like she always did. “I’m going to figure it out...we’re gonna get you back to normal, and I’m going to tell you every day how much I love you. I miss you so much, but...we’re almost there. I can feel it...” Wanda’s voice started choking up, as tears ran down her face. “We deserve our happy ending.”

Her hand was still pressed against the glass as she finished her speech. She was about to lower it, but then something unexpected happened. You stared at her hand curiously, beginning to raise your own. Wanda watched, smile forming on her face as your arm made it’s way to the glass.

“Wanda! Please come here, we have a situation.” You had almost pressed your hand against Wanda’s, when Vision’s voice interrupted. Your attention turned to the direction it came from and you let out a growl, clearly angry at the interruption. Wanda sighed in disappointment, but she tried not to let it take over. You still showed massive improvement, something worth reporting back to Vision. “It’s okay.” She soothed you. “I’m going to go see what he wants then I’ll be right back, okay? I know you’re hungry, I’ll get you some food too.” You didn’t offer a response as she walked off.

“Vis! I have to tell you-” Wanda began as she walked into the main room, but cut herself off at the new faces. She didn’t recognize the bald woman with the spear or the wimpy looking man in a workers uniform, but she was familiar with Peter. What surprised her most though, was Bruce Banner. A man she hasn’t seen in over three years. “What is going on?”

“I ran into them outside the premises. Apparently word has gotten out about the cure.” Vision answered before turning his attention back to the guests. “As I told you, I am afraid we cannot help you. The cure seems to be a moot point.”

“Well, what about-” Peter began, but he was interrupted by a new voice.

“For something you have no hope for, you sure don’t have a problem bringing in new test subjects.” Wanda recognized Bucky Barnes’ voice. She turned around, and her eyes widened as she saw King T’challa on his arm, struggling to stand on his one remaining leg.

Shit.

“My king! We thought you dead.” The bald woman exclaimed in relief and surprise.

“Your highness. I was not aware you were in the base.” Vision said, confused on how that got by him. It didn’t take him long to figure out why. “Wanda...”

“I’m sorry.” Wanda whispered, knowing she was caught. “The cure wasn’t working on Y/n, and in order to keep her at bay, I had to feed her.”

“So you fed her our King?” A spear was raised to her throat, threateningly.

“It was nothing personal, I promise. I have her under control and the cure is starting to work, I know it. We just need a little more time!”

“Why not just kill her? You lured innocent people to their deaths just for her when there a couple million more Zombies out there that you could use for testing. Ones that have a chance of being cured.” The whole room went quiet after Bucky said that.

“Uh oh. Shouldn’t have said that.” Wanda heard Scott say, but she was too busy glaring at Bucky. Her eyes started to go red, but before she could do anything, she noticed the spear held to her throat begin to glow red and melt. The woman dropped the spear as it began to burn her hands.

“Did it just suddenly get like, super hot?” Peter asked as he began to fan himself.

“Oh no...” Wanda trailed off. She looked up to notice the steal walls that led to your cell begin to melt. “You’ve done it now...she hasn’t eaten in days.” Before anyone could respond, the steel doors melted completely. The man in the uniform was unfortunate enough to be standing in front of it, as a strong burst of flame shot out and incinerated him on the spot. Only a second later, you flew out the door, covered in flames as you hovered above everyone.

Wanda watched in horror as you began to fight everyone. They weren’t holding up very well, and that’s when Wanda finally realized what she had done. This wasn’t you, and if you were still here, you would hate to see your body be used to attack and kill others.

“Vision! Get us out of here!” She heard Bruce yell, and Vision shot a blast towards the wall, blowing it up and letting everyone out. Wanda turned her focus back to you, you watched them starting to escape and you began to fly after them, but a red mist surrounded you before you could. You turned your head, starting to growl, but stopped when you saw it was Wanda.

“Y/n. Stop...” You tilted your head, still struggling to move as Wanda came closer. She took a chance and reached up, gently placing a hand on your face. “I am so sorry...you never deserved this...” Your face softened at the touch, beginning to show the signs of emotion that Wanda desperately held onto. However, it was clear now that it was too late.

You snapped out of it, as you managed to break free from Wanda’s hold. You opened your mouth wide, intent on biting and feeding on her, but something stopped you. You hesitated, and Wanda noticed. You settled for pushing her aside to the ground as you reignited yourself and flew out of the base.

Wanda picked herself up after a moment, intent on stopping you. She ran past Okoye’s body, charred and eaten, but she was sure there was little time until she turned. She ran faster to where you were, now facing off against Bucky. She sprinted further, about to take off and fly when she paused.

Vision was face down on the ground. She kneeled next to him, glowing red hand turning over his body, afraid of what she’ll see. Once he was turned, Wanda gasped at the sight. The mind stone was torn out of his head.

“Oh no...no, no, no...” She held his body, tears slowly building as she mourned the loss of her best friend. She had officially lost everything. “I am so sorry Vis...I’m going to make this right, I promise.”

She heard Bucky scream. She looked over to see you start to feed on him. She saw Bruce, Peter, Scott and T’challa in the distance, making their way to the jet. They were your next target.

No. Wanda wasn’t going to let that happen. It ends now.

She used her powers to propel herself forward, landing directly in your path. You growled at her yet again as she used her powers to hold you. “Y/n...please, stop.” You struggled to get out of the hold, but Wanda held on. “This isn’t you...you wouldn’t want this...I love you more than anything, and I’m so sorry...I hope one day, you’ll forgive me.”

Wanda used her powers to grab the gun laying by Bucky’s side. She held in to your head, ready to pull the trigger...but she couldn’t. She let out a scream of frustration and dropped her hold on both you and the gun. The gun fell to the ground, but you haven’t moved.

“I can’t do it...I...I’m not strong enough...” Wanda began crying, shutting her eyes and waited for you to finish her off. She failed everyone, no one deserved death more than her. She opened her eyes when nothing came. You stood, staring at her with a tilt of your head. The yellow of your eyes dimming as you stared.

“W....Wan...” You struggled to let out, but it was enough for Wanda to hear. She cried even harder. She was right, you were almost there...but it was too late now.

You took in your surroundings as best you could, you didn’t have a lot of awareness, but you knew enough to piece everything together. You saw the influx of zombies starting to enter to base. Everyone needed to get away. You turned back to Wanda, and you knew what you had to do. You felt the little control you had start to slip away.

You bent down and picked up the discarded gun. You shakily pointed it to your temple, the control slipping away faster and faster. “Love....you....I...sorry...” You managed to croak out. Before you could lose control completely, you pulled the trigger.

Wanda watched in horror as you shot yourself in the head. Pieces of your brain landing on her, your blood drenching her. She looked down to see your body, half your face still together, but you were gone. Truly gone.

She knelt down sobbing, as she held your body. After a moment she looked up to see the Hulk appear as the zombies began to overwhelm the base. She saw the jet take off, and she gave a weak smile. They got away. Wanda’s job was done. This is where her story ends. All was lost for her.

So when the zombies finally reached her, she didn’t fight back. Accepting her death with open arms.

Epilogue

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you

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greensaplinggrace · 3 years

Note

So you mentioned in another post that you have some strong thoughts on Baghra, especially about how the story frames her as one of the good guys. I would love to hear about it.

@youremotionallystablefriend: I would love to hear you rant about Baghra if you feel like it (and haven’t already)! Personally I don’t think she gets enough constructive critique in the fandom for being the one that brought Aleks up and for the way she treated her pupils and especially Alina :/

Anon: Hello! I love your thoughts on the grisha books. I'm actually interested to hear your take on Baghra

@misku-nimfa: If you are up for it, I would love to read your thoughts on Baghra or your full critique of society in the Grishaverse. Your analysis is really well structured and interesting! ^.^

Anon: Hi! I saw your recent post and was wondering if you'd share more of your thoughts on Baghra?

---

Hello everyone! I was honestly very surprised to see so many people interested in my thoughts on Baghra? I'll share what I can, but please know that this is by no means a full breakdown of her character! It’s just some Thoughts I’ve had, and they’re mostly centered around show Baghra because that’s how I was first introduced to her character. Although IMO book Baghra might actually be even worse.

I’d like to preface this by saying that many of my issues with the treatment of Baghra as a character in fandom come from the wild double standard there seems to be regarding her and the Darkling. Darkling Antis and a vast majority of the people in this fandom who don’t like his character have a disturbing habit of absolutely ripping into the Darkling for all of his faults and then turning around and treating Baghra as some sort of pristine mother figure for the exact same shit.

They’ll talk about how badass she is, how strong she is, how they sympathize with her past (although they’ll continue to dehumanize the Darkling and refuse to sympathize with his own past) and sympathize with the fact that she has to deal with the Darkling (who’s always referred to as a monster she must corral or control, as if he is inhumane and beastly. These particular comments always take on the very distinct tone of victim blaming as well). They’ll laud her for all of these “powerful girlboss” moments as if they aren’t carbon copies of the Darkling’s own behavior - as if they aren’t things Baghra herself taught him. Which is why this is the wildest double standard of all to me, because every horrible action they praise Baghra for is something she taught the Darkling, and something they cannot stand to see in him as well.

It’s as if there’s a disconnect between their consumption of the literature when it comes to the two characters, and I’m of the opinion that it’s largely because Baghra is a woman and a mother and therefore infantilized in the fandom quite a bit. In fact, Bardugo herself often infantilizes many of her female characters in her writing. This is mostly through the process of excusing their terrible deeds, not allowing them to do anything remotely dark, or brushing any morally grey actions under the rug without ever touching upon them. Which puts me in the strange position of knowing I’m supposed to sympathize with Baghra for having to deal with the monster she’s created, and instead feeling resentful of the fact that this bitter woman is held up as this wise old strict teacher instead of the abusive mentor/mother she should have been.

Now, here’s what I said to make so many of you send me asks:

Last note, in reference to your first line, and also probably a pretty unpopular opinion. I do not like Baghra. And it legit has nothing to do with the Darkling or with Alina, I just don't like her "I'm going to hit you and berate you and emotionally abuse you and manipulate you and act like the good guy at the end of it" vibe she's got going on. At least Aleksander is acknowledged as the villain within the narrative. Idk wtf Baghra is on but it's absolutely wild to me that people aren't more critical of her actions. Which is, rather fortunately for you, another rant I will save for another post if anybody ever wants to hear it lol. (but like kudos to Baghra's actress. I loved the character as a character, I just don't like the way she's framed as a good guy. Weird. Uncomfortable. She literally set bees on the kids she was teaching).

This basically summarizes most of my thoughts on Baghra as a character and how she’s portrayed. I touched on it a bit above, but the way she’s able to get away with so much and not suffer under heavier critique is honestly baffling to me. There should be a lot more criticism of her out there in the fandom. This is the woman who abused her students and neglected her son. Although to be honest I don’t even know how to quite describe the emotionally neglectful yet unhealthily codependent bond she fostered in him from a young age. IMO, Baghra’s behavior around Aleksander is creepy, and I know she has a history that makes it more understandable, but it’s still incredibly disconcerting to witness.

But let’s get back on track! First of all, her students. Whom she physically, emotionally, and mentally abuses. She’s derisive, she’s insulting, she’s belittling. She works hard to strip them of any self confidence they may have. She uses pain as a means of triggering powers. And the strict teacher excuse doesn’t fly. The “it’s only a training method!” excuse is even worse. This is literal abuse she’s heaping on her students and it’s wretched.

The first thing she does to Alina when they first meet is insult her. Then she hits her. Then she kicks her out.

Second time they interact is a montage. Baghra hits Alina multiple times. She shames her. And then when Alina actually calls a light she tells her it’s not nearly enough, effectively wiping the smile off of her face and every sign of self confidence that had been building. Then we see the door to Baghra’s hut shut in Alina’s face. So now she has been bruised, battered, berated, stripped of all self confidence, and then banished again. As training methods go, this is not only entirely ineffective, but it’s also just abusive.

Then we get this interaction between Alina and her friends:

Marie: One time, Baghra released a hive of bees on me. Nadia: Worst part is, it worked. Marie: It really did. I could summon at will after that.

Which is fucking horrifying and not talked about nearly enough. That goes beyond hitting your students. Baghra used a fear tactic on a young girl to activate her powers. She literally tortured Marie to make her powers work.

Alina throughout this conversation is looking very disheartened. She’s lacking in any self confidence and the comment about the bees has clearly affected her. For someone who’s first words to Alina were “Everyone believes that you are the one. Come back when you believe it too,” Baghra doesn’t exactly seem keen on Alina actually believing she’s the one. If she did, she wouldn’t be stripping her of every positive emotion associated with sun summoning.

Let’s not forget that Baghra demeans Alina multiple times for her status as an orphan. How she utilizes what she knows of Alina’s emotional weaknesses to provoke her and discourage her and make her angry.

And then Baghra drugs her without consent. To take advantage of any information Alina gives her in that state. To use the way Alina reacts for her own ends.

Because why else would she say this?:

Alina: We planned to run away together. Baghra: You had plans. Perhaps he never did, because where is he now?

Which is, strangely enough, the same sense of isolation and separation from Mal and her past that Aleksander is attempting to foster. Weird how mother and son are both using the same manipulation tactics.

In fact, why does Baghra never tell Alina about the letters until she’s already engaged with Aleksander? Baghra must have known he was taking them. Alina talks about it enough. Baghra must have known he was isolating her from Mal. How could she not, when it’s revealed later that she has spies in the Little Palace collecting information on him? How could she not, when she knows he’s the villain from the beginning - when she knows he’s manipulating Alina?

Baghra knows, and yet she keeps the same lies Aleksander does and furthermore uses that information to make Alina feel even more isolated and weak. Baghra literally just piggy-backs on Aleksander’s manipulation and then exacerbates it. She wants Alina to feel no attachments to her past because she wants to use Alina as well. But for some reason, because this manipulation and treatment of Alina as some sort of tool is done by the woman who opposes the Darkling, it’s suddenly okay. As if it still isn’t the same terrible shit but with a different perpetrator. I mean damn, at least Aleksander feels something for Alina. Baghra’s just cold.

So, point by point. Baghra mentions how Mal doesn’t care for Alina, she mentions Alina’s failings constantly, she mentions Alina being an orphan, she constantly hits her, she guilts Alina about orphans dying, she works to instill a sense of isolation from her friends and her family.

And when Alina finally comes to Baghra, having decided to abandon her attachments to her past and her attachments to Mal, the words that ring in her head are Baghra's words - “needing anyone else is weak.” Which is honestly just a horrible sentiment in general, but an even worse one when considering how hard these people are working to detach Alina from anybody who can help her or give her an outside perspective.

Strangely, it’s also similar to this line:

The problem with wanting, is that it makes us weak.

...which is spoken by Baghra’s son. You know, the Darkling? Our big bad villain? The one Baghra raised?

Which gives me the impression that Baghra’s teaching methods with her students are really not that far off from the teaching methods she used on him as he was growing up. It’s a horrifying thought, and leads into my problems with her relationship with Aleksander.

First of all, show wise. What the fuck.

Aleksander: They’re punishing us for being Grisha. Baghra: Punishing you. You made him afraid. Now he wants you to fear him. Aleksander: I won a war for him. Baghra: And in doing so, started a war on us.

I get that she’s trying to convey how the king feels here, but it still feels incredibly victim blamey from a narrative standpoint. It isn’t Aleksander’s fault the king fears him when he used his powers under the King’s banner to help him win a war. Aleksander trusted this man who betrayed him and then betrayed his people, and we get a line from his mother, entirely unsympathetic, talking about how it’s his fault all of these people are dying.

Baghra: Where’s the girl, your healer? Aleksander: Dead. She died because of me. Baghra: She died because they always do. They’re not as strong as you and me.

Baghra’s use of the term ‘girl’ and ‘healer' here instead of Luda is pretty telling. She either doesn’t like Luda or doesn’t care for her. Either way, this is the woman her son loves, and Baghra talks about her so dispassionately. Then he comments on Luda’s death and there’s no reaction except to say that they always do.

Like, her son is literally broken up over here. Grieving. Desperate. Run ragged. Caged and hunted. Feeling guilty as hell. Mind running through a million different ways he could possibly save all of these people. And Baghra offers him nothing except a paltry “people die, get over it, we’re better than that, she didn’t matter anyway.”

Honestly, how is Aleksander even still functioning at this point? He has no support system and he’s working against a king and his army to protect a group of civilians he could easily abandon to save himself. The sheer amount of responsibility and mental strain keeping track of a group alone entails is already monstrous, but adding in every other factor? The recent death of Luda, the fact that they’re cornered and they’ve been hunted down while fleeing across the land, the fact that he was just a couple hours ago forced to his knees and entirely at these men’s mercy, begging for Luda’s life. And here his mother is, if anything a negative support system. Offering no other ideas, telling him to give up hope, not even offering the barest smidgeon of emotional support as he grieves, putting everything on his shoulders.

It pisses me the fuck off.

Aleksander: You’re the one who taught me how to kill, mother. Their blood is on your hands as much as mine. Baghra: I taught you so you could protect yourself. Not them.

Once more, Baghra highlights how he needs to protect himself. How he should abandon the people he’s protecting. How he shouldn't help others and only ever himself. Once more, she says it’s my way or the high way. There’s zero effort to work with him. Zero effort to sympathize or compromise. She’s constantly pushing him to take the one option she knows he won’t take. The hell did she think was going to happen?

Also, Baghra taught him how to kill. Not necessarily great parenting, but understandable given the circumstances of his upbringing. But the level to which she takes it is honestly concerning. Like, look no further than this woman to see where Aleksander got it from lol.

Baghra also forbids him from using Merzost. Which is great and all, she gets to claim the moral high ground. But she doesn’t offer a single alternative except to flee and let everybody die. There was legitimately no other option to Merzost except for torture and death. If there was, Baghra sure as hell didn’t help Aleksander come up with one. Aleksander, who - by the way - is in no fit emotional state to be making any kind of decision right now.

So anyways, that’s just my tv show grief regarding Baghra, and it’s not even really all of it. I don’t want to make this an hour long read though lmao. But I’ll go over a few other things.

First of all, Baghra’s whole “We’re the only two that matter. We have to do whatever we can to protect ourselves,” mentality is one that she actively touts to Aleksander on a regular basis when he’s incredibly young. It’s honestly a wonder he grows up to care about other people at all. But the mentality itself is something Aleksander still heavily internalized in regards to protecting himself and those he deems worthy at any cost.

There’s a moment in the books when Aleksander is attacked and nearly drowned by some kids who wanted his bones (one of which was a close friend of his). He uses the cut in self defense and then blames the nearby Otkazat’sya village. Baghra knows he’s lying, and yet she allows an entire village to get slaughtered for harming him. This is a disproportionately violent act that Baghra approves of, and Aleksander as a kid is definitely internalizing that mindset.

Also, Baghra’s behavior around Aleksander has always been weirdly possessive and controlling. Especially when it comes to the people he loves. Her actions often come across as her trying to isolate him in order to keep him by her side, even when the relationships he has are clearly intimate. Which... is especially strange for a mother to be doing to her son.

She was also an extremely emotionally neglectful mother. Based on the show and what I gathered from her actions there, I’m actually half convinced she was physically abusive as well, in that “I think I’m being a stern, good parent figure when in reality I’m actually harming my child” kind of way. She fosters codependence with her son and then refuses to provide for any of his emotional needs. She drives it into his head that everybody dies, that he’ll always be alone, that love is useless and power is everything. She denies him the opportunity to be soft and works to harden him at a young age. She tells him he must never allow people to touch him, except she doesn’t work to supplement those physical needs in any way. She essentially abuses him.

Honestly, I could go on. But in reality the simple fact is that I just don’t like her. I think she’s a hypocrite. I think she’s abusive. I think she’s a terrible mentor and an even worse mother. And I think the fandom and the books are willing to brush aside so many of her faults simply because she opposes the Darkling.

I’m sorry if this isn’t what you guys were looking for! It sounds like a lot of you wanted a more of a sophisticated breakdown, but my thoughts on Baghra come with a heap of emotional baggage lol. It feels weird to say this now, but I actually do like the character as a character, I just,,, don’t like her in every other aspect. My feelings on Baghra are just a bit personal, to be honest. But hopefully this was at least comprehensible??

#shadow and bone #sab #grishaverse #anti leigh bardugo #anti baghra #baghra critical #sab spoilers #demon in the wood spoilers #aleksander morozova #sab meta #the darkling #fandomcourse #myramblings #leigh bardugo critical #mymetas #anti darklina bs #please dont hate me for this #aaahhhh now im worried #Yikes

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itsallyscorner · 4 years

Note

can you write something comforting with bucky? like, bucky being the reader's safe place from everything bad in her life and the only one who actually cares about her?

My first Bucky imagine! He’s my best boy he deserves so much love🥺 Enough about me tho, thank you for the request lovely and I hope you like it!🖤

This is my first time writing for Bucky so I hope I did good🥺

💌.

You’ll Get There

Warning: Steve is kinda a dick in this one.

You were a monster.

You were created to destroy and kill not save people or stand alongside the heroes. Which is why living in the Avengers Tower was unsettling. It was wrong, you didn’t belong there. Your father was an ex member of Hydra. He was one of the most loyal and trustworthy masterminds who was close to Strucker. Until one day, when he and Strucker got into a disagreement concerning a confidential project.

Years of his ideas and experimental methods being declined your father eventually left Hydra and did his experiments in his own basement. With no volunteers for a test subject he used you against your will. At just the age of 5, you were used as a test subject, getting things injected into you and going under inhumane methods to turn you into what you were today.

Wanda sent a blast towards you, you tried to focus on the energy surrounding the red orb, manipulating it so you can control it. You used all your might but the feeling of Steve’s stare intimidated you. The blast came into contact with your stomach forcing you onto the floor. Steve who’s been watching on the side sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. You’ve been training with Wanda ever since you were rescued by the Avengers. From what Steve saw through your training there was barely any improvement. You were decent when it came to hand to hand combat and weaponry, but you couldn’t control your powers at all.

You’ve been in the training room for hours with Wanda. She’s been throwing blasts of her powers towards you while you had to try to manipulate it and use it against her. You were successful a few times and got to control the blast, but weren’t able to force it back at Wanda. You remained on the floor laying on your back since the impact of the blast made you loose your breath.

“(Y/n).” You snapped your head at Steve. The tone of his voice reminded you of the tone your father would have when you disappointed him during an experiment.

You rushed to get up and dusted yourself off to face the Captain. He towered over you with a look of exasperation on his face.

“We’ve been doing the same thing for months, why can’t you control your powers yet?” He questioned you an edge to his voice. You knew he was a nice man but the frustration of having to deal with you was probably getting to him.

“I— I don’t know. I just can’t manipulate it correctly. My mind won’t focus—,” you tried to explain but Steve cut you off.

“Well what’s it going to take for you to focus? We’ve been doing these sessions since you were rescued, (y/n), get a grip!” He yelled. You took a step back at his outburst.

“You think I asked you to rescue me?”

“Because I didn’t! I was perfectly fine living on my own hiding away from all of this! All you want from me are my powers, so you can use me to be part of your group! You want me to do this and do that! I’m tired! We’ve been training nonstop Steve!” You yelled back at him. Steve’s eyes widen at your outburst. You’ve never yelled, not even raised your voice at anyone. You mostly kept to yourself, maybe had a conversation or two with some other Avengers. But you snapped. The stress from training and having to adjust in the new environment placed a weight on your shoulders that you couldn’t handle. Steve yelling at you was just the perfect push for you to burst.

“(Y/n)—,” Steve moved towards you but you shook your head.

“No. I’m done.” You walk out the training room heading straight towards your room.

When you enter the hall you bumped into Bucky. You quickly apologized and continued the walk to your room.

“Doll?” He looked back at you to see you’ve already turned the corner. He saw Steve leaving the training room along with Wanda who was talking to him. Bucky was sure you were upset when you bumped into him.

Bucky was the first one to approach you out of all the other Avengers. Which was odd since Bucky barely talked to anyone besides Steve and Sam. You and Bucky got along. The first few months after being rescued he volunteered to help show you around the tower, even though he didn’t understand most of the high tech appliances in the tower. He learned that you were linked to Hydra, well your dad was, but you went though the same things he had to gone through when Hydra was in control of him. He wanted to make sure you had someone to talk to, if you were having flashbacks or night terrors. He knew how it felt because he’s lived through it, but because of T’Challa and Shuri he didn’t have to anymore. That wasn’t the case for you.

Bucky heard you have your first night terror during the second week of your arrival. He was at your room in an instant. Then there you were, tears streaming down your face with your hair and shirt sticking to your skin. A look of fear on your face. That night you asked Bucky to stay with you. He sat on the floor beside your bed while you clung onto his flesh arm. From then on, you guys turned to each other for comfort when it was needed. You guys even had movie nights every Friday.

Bucky debated on who he should follow. You or Steve? Seeing as you were upset, he decided to check on you first.

He knocked on your door.

No response.

Again, he knocked.

Nothing. He turned the handle of the door but it didn’t budge. He knocked again, “Doll, open up.”

He heard some rustling behind the door. Seconds later you opened the door. He was greeted by your flushed face. Your under eyes were puffy and the trails of your tears were still visible on your face. You silently turned away and left the door open for him, moving to curl yourself into the comfort of your sheets.

Bucky gently closed the door behind him and sat on the side on your bed. When he realized you weren’t going to talk anytime soon, he got comfy and leaned against the headboard. He brought your figure towards him and rested your head on his chest.

This was how you were. When you were upset you allowed yourself to feel it before talking about the problem. When you were upset about something you preferred to be wrapped around warmth to help ground yourself and not get lost in your thoughts. The heat that radiated off Bucky, along with the coolness of his prosthetic arm and heart beat kept you from losing yourself.

Bucky patiently waited for you. His flesh hand would switch from stroking your cheek and running his fingers through your hair.

“Am I hopeless?” You finally spoke. Bucky’s brow scrunched together in confusion.

“No, why would you say that?” He questioned softly.

“Then why can’t I get the hang of my abilities? I’ve been training with Steve and Wanda for months and there has been no improvement!” You sniffled as tears formed in your eyes again.

“Now, hold on. Didn’t you say you were able to control the blast Wanda threw at you? That’s improvement!” He reasoned with her.

“Well it’s not improvement to Steve.” You mumbled against his shirt. Bucky froze, his fingers stoping their track in your hair.

“What did Steve do?” He asked her, his voice lowered. Not that he would hurt Steve, the man’s done so much for him, but he has been rough on you lately.

“Nothing, it’s not a big deal, Buck.” You assured him.

“If it made you this upset, it is a big deal.” He retorted. You sighed not wanting to rat Steve out on his own friend. You shook you head.

“Doll, come on.” He coaxed you. You sighed giving in.

“He just yelled at me to get a grip. He said we’ve been doing those training sessions since day one and that I haven’t been able to control one of Wanda’s blasts successfully.” You answered him as you nervously fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

“What’d you tell him?”

“That I’m done.”

“What do you mean you’re done?” Bucky sat up properly against the headboard.

“I don’t want to do this anymore. There’s no use, Bucky. If I can’t control my powers then what’s the point of me being here?” You rested your head above his heart.

“A second chance.” Bucky immediately answered. He placed a finger under your chin and gently guided you to look at him.

“Look at me.” He whispered lightly, his thumb grazed against your bottom lip as it moved to stroke your cheek.

“Now listen to me. You’re here for a reason. You were rescued for a reason. Why do you think Tony practically begged for you to stay at the compound?” He started, you shrugged in response.

“He saw potential in you. (Y/n), this is a second chance for you to better yourself and use your powers for good things. Isn’t that great? You’ve been given these abilities and now you’re getting the chance to help people with it.” He finished.

“But it was given to me with the intentions of doing the opposite. I’ve killed people with them, Bucky.”

“The Winter Soldier killed tons of people, doll. Now look at me.” He huffed with a crooked smile. You stared at him for a moment. He looked healthy, his eyes were bright, he’s grown a beard, and his previously long and luscious hair has been nearly cut. You’ve seen the Winter Soldier before, through pictures and news articles, the Bucky in front of you was far from the mind controlled assassin.

“How did you do it?” You wondered titling your head at him.

“I had a lot of help. It took some patience but I had people who were willing to help me get better.” He responded. You nodded and rested your head on his shoulder. Bucky continued to stroke your cheek with his flesh hand and rubbed circles on your back with his prosthetic hand.

“You’ll get there. It’ll take time, but eventually you’ll get there, and I’ll be right beside you.” He comforted you. You nodded into his neck and wrapped your limbs around his body, Bucky followed in suit.

In his arms you felt safe. Like nothing could ever hurt you when you were in his grip. It was as if all your worries were pushed right off your shoulders when you were in contact with him. You gave each other a sense of peace while living such a hectic lifestyle. You were glad you had someone like Bucky, because without him you would’ve lost your mind trying to deal with your new living situation.

Eventually, you did get there. You conquered your abilities and were finally opening up to your teammates. You felt normal, like you finally belonged there. Bucky remained true to his promise, he went through it all and stayed beside you till the end.

#ally’s requests #marvel #mcu #avengers #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #sebastan stan #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan headcanons #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan drabble #bucky barnes headcanon

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unknownwriting · 3 years

Note

I love your blog, so if you don't mind can I request a one shot with monkey d luffy x female reader where the reader has a habit of giving luffy butterfly kisses. I'm dying for lots of fluff. Thank you!

Butterfly kisses

Summary- ^^ requested

Character(s)- Monkey D. Luffy

Warnings- none :)

Word count- 1.9k

Notes- butterfly kisses are literally the cutest thing in the whole world 🥺💕 I got a big carried away, this was honestly so cute to write, I hope you enjoy. Also happy Valentine’s Day

━━☆⌒*.

Butterfly kissed- soft kisses made from fluttering one's lashes against their lover's skin. An innocent act yet one filled with so much passion. The perfect kissed for (Y/n) and her captain, Luffy, to share. A soft and airy kiss making their relationship all the better. Ever since their relationship had started a while ago, (Y/n) continued to pamper Luffy with those kisses to this day. At first, the kisses were occasional, only happening when they split up to explore an island or after Luffy got into a fight. However, throughout their relationship, the kisses began to grow more frequent. Every night before they go to bed when they wake up, and whenever the 2 leave each other sides.

Although Luffy doesn’t think too much of the gentle kisses, they mean so much to (Y/n). Those simple kisses represent so much between the 2. The kisses show that the 2 of them have a very unique way of showing their love. And even though those kisses mean so much to her, and probably mean the same to Luffy, she couldn’t help that little voice that echoed in the back of her head.

What if Luffy’s getting tired of the kisses?

It was a pointless thing to worry about. It really was but that didn’t stop (Y/n). She continued to think about it, letting it consume her thoughts.

Letting out a small groan, (Y/n) learned over the railing and watched the dolphins swimming in the wake of Sunny. She didn’t mean to get the attention of the others seeing how her worrying is pointless, however, her groan seemed to grab the attention of the crew's archeologist. At least she was lucky to catch her attention and not someone else's, Robin seems like she would know a bit about the topic.

"Are you alright, (Y/n)? You seem a bit upset." Robin questioned taking a spot next to her side. Even if it was going to be easy to tell Robin, (Y/n) thought about it for a moment. With (Y/n) already knowing the answer, she decided to tell Robin anyways, just so she can have someone tell her that she was just overthinking things.

"I...I'm not sure Luffy likes my kisses anymore. I'm probably overthinking things, but it seems like he's bored of them." (Y/n) signed, leaning up from the rail and looking over at her older friend.

"What makes you say that?" Robin wondered.

"Because that's the only kiss I give him, and he never kisses back. So you can't blame me for thinking that." (Y/n) explained, unknowingly grabbing the attention of the crew's moss head too, "But I thought he always preferred those kisses."

"Jeez, you are overthinking it." Zoro blurted out joining (Y/n) at her other side. Jumping a bit, and earning a small giggle from Robin, (Y/n) looked over at him.

"Zoro?"

"Luffy's the easiest guy to even date. Always speaking his mind, doing what he wants when he wants it." Zoro pointed out, and (Y/n) knew every single one of those to be true. Luffy always tells (Y/n) what he likes and what he doesn't without a 2nd thought.

"Zoro is right. Overthinking things with Luffy is pointless. If he doesn't like them he would've told you. Luffy's simple-minded like that." Robin agreed. (Y/n) knew she was also right, she knows she could go right up to Luffy and ask whether or not he likes the kisses but she doesn't want to do that. She doesn't want it to be that simple.

"Ugh, I know but I don't want it to be that simple. Sometimes I want something to happen." (Y/n) exclaimed throwing her hands into the air, "Everything is so easy with him, which I don't mind but sometimes because things are so easy with him I can't help but overthink things. Like I'm doing something wrong or something."

Now Zoro and Robin could understand that too. Because Luffy is so easy he's just as complex. A curse disguised as a blessing.

"The 2 of you are on night watch tonight, right?" Zoro asked.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Then ask him then. It'll just be the 2 of you so you can have his full attention." Zoro has suggested before watching off again, probably to find someplace to sleep. As he walked away, his suggestion began to sink in. It was a pretty good idea, It just might help later tonight.

ミ☆

Later that night, while everyone else was sleeping or getting ready for bed, (Y/n) and Luffy both stood guard on the deck of Sunny watching out for any threats. Seeing how nothing ever happens, the 2 of them ended up goofing off, like any other night. They both told each other stories, jokes, and played games. It what the 2 of them would also do when it was their night to stand guard.

"No way. Rayleigh really made you fight those types of monsters?" (Y/n) laughed, listening to Luffy's crazy stories about training over the past 2 years. To (Y/n) the stories sounded so extreme but she knows well enough that it was true. Luffy is inhuman like that.

"Shishishi, yup. At one point I couldn't even eat until I dodged their attacks. It was hard." Luffy whined remembering that time. It was hard but it needed to be done. He needed to get strong for his crew's sake. For (Y/n)‘s sake. It would be a lie to say that Luffy didn't think or worry about (Y/n) during his training. That was one of the things that he missed the most, her warmth and her smile. And not the mention the amazing kisses she gave. He definitely missed those the most. Feeling (Y/n)'s soft lashes brush against his skin in a repeating fashion. When the 2 of them had reunited it was something that (Y/n) didn't hold back either, kissing him every chance they got to make up for all the time apart. However, recently (Y/n) hasn't been giving out the kisses anymore. The thing about Luffy is that he's dense, not clueless so he knows something was wrong with (Y/n) for a while now. As if he also overheard was Zoro said earlier, Luffy decided to bring it up.

"Sheesh. Only you could go through such intense training." (Y/n) giggled as she looked into Luffy's dark brown eyes. Now was going to be the perfect time to bring up the kisses. And she was, wanting to clear up the confusion as quickly as possible. But just as she gathered her thoughts and opened her mouth to say something there was a crash at the back of the ship. The crash echoed for a moment before it when silent again. Both (Y/n) and Luffy turned around to face the sound, waiting to see if anything else was going to happen. When it stayed silent and nothing else happened, (Y/n) was the first one the get up.

"Guess I'll go check out that sound," (Y/n) stated as she began to walk off. Luffy watched with a close eye as she walked. It didn't take Luffy long to realize something was missing. (Y/n) doesn't just walk off like that. She always kisses him before leaving. Before she could get far, Luffy stretched out his arms and wrapped them around her waist, yanking her back and into his lap. A soft yelp let her lips as she soon came into contact with Luffy's chest.

"Huh? Luffy what's wrong-" (Y/n) gasped as she felt his grip about her tighten. With his strong arms pushing her back, (Y/n) was almost able to feel every inch of Luffy's chest against her back. Something like this rarely happened. Luffy was never big on physical contact hence why they stuck to butterfly kisses.

"I'm not letting you go." Luffy cut (Y/n) off, resting his chin on her shoulder. With a blush covering her cheeks, she glanced over at him to try and reasons with him but when she looked she only got Luffy's intense stare back. Now (Y/n) knows he's being serious.

"W-what?" (Y/n) stared down at the grass on the main deck to embarrassed to meet his gaze. She began to play with her fingers as she waited for Luffy to say something. And the waiting was not helping at all, it only made her impatient. Luffy normally doesn't wait like his, he would just speak his mind. While she waited, (Y/n) could still feel his gaze on her at they sat in silence. Finally, with a squeeze from Luffy's arm, she spoke up.

"Because you haven't given me a kiss." Luffy blurted out.

"Huh?" His comment clearly caught (Y/n) off guard. She was not expecting those words to come from his lips. Luffy hummed into her shoulder and nodded.

"You haven't given me a kiss all day..." Luffy trailed off as his face sunk deeper into (Y/n) shoulder. In all honesty, (Y/n) didn't how to react. Luffy rarely acted like this, it came as a total shock. This side of him is completely new but it was cute. Clingy but cute. Glancing back down, this time she noticed that blush that covered the top of his ears. Seems like this side is new for Luffy too.

Staring down at Luffy a bit longer, a small smile crept onto (Y/n)'s lips as a burst of laughter erupted from her throat, "I didn't know you liked them so much."

"Of course I do!! Your kisses are super soft!!" Luffy exclaimed looking up from (Y/n) shoulder. Laughing once more, (Y/n) shimmed her way out of his grasp and turned aground, and faced her blushing captain. Locking eyes with him, (Y/n) placed a hand on her cheek and began to caress them with her thumb.

"Well that's good to know. I was afraid you didn't like them anymore." (Y/n) confessed.

"Why wouldn't I?" Luffy sounded offended at (Y/n)'s comment. Looks like he loved the kisses as much as (Y/n) loves giving them, "(Y/n) kisses are the best. As good as meat."

"...Luffy don't compare me to meat." (Y/n) let out a small scoff at his comparison. As weird as it sounded, it meant a lot to her. In Luffy's eyes, nothing beats meat.

"What? Meats amazing."

"I know, but that's not really the best thing to say to a girl." (Y/n) scoffed leaning into his flustered cheek, and began to flutter her eyelashes. He probably didn't mean to, but a small hummed left his lips in response. With that reps once in mind, (Y/n) went to his other cheek and give him another kiss, then his nose, then his forehead.

"Shishi, You're kissing me a lot."

"Of course. It only fair because I didn't kiss you at all today." (Y/n) smiled, placing one more kissing on his cheek. With all the kisses done, she leaned back and stared into Luffy's smile. It was relieving to know that Luffy enjoyed the kisses too. Now (y/n) won't have to overthink the kisses again. With his hands still around her waist, he hugged her again and sunk his face into the neck, as if to say thank you. And of course, (Y/n) hugged back. Luffy also knows that her hugs are just amazing as she kissed, so warm and full of love. It would be easy for them to of them to get stay like this forever but (Y/n) still has to go check out that sound.

Shifting around a bit in his grasp, (Y/n) spoke up, "hey, Luffy I still need to go check out that sou-"

"No, I want you to stay here." Luffy lurked out again, squeezing (Y/n) tightly again. She stared down at him again. His childish and clingy behavior is kicking in, there's no leaving him now.

With a quiet giggle, (Y/n) nodded and hugged him again. She'll just have to check out the sound later. Right now there doesn't seem to be any reasons or way to leave the comfort of Luffy's hug.

#monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #oneshot #unknownwriting💕

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tomsrebeleyebrow · 3 years

Text

attraction | hs vampire au

moodboard made by me so don’t use pls

Pairing: Vampire!Harry x NewbornVampire!Reader

Warnings: major mention of blood, basically a slow burn with sexual tension/teasing, SMUT including unprotected sex (wrap it up before ya tap it), kids), voyeurism, oral (f receiving) and so much more, fluff and a tiny bit of angst

Word count: 10.9k (oops)

A/N: well... hi again? i guess?? 🙃 back from the dead agaaaain 🙌🏻 okay but i had a major writer block since my last one shot and oof, was it tough... but now i’m back! more relax and feeling inspired for halloween? so hope you will enjoy this special oneshot about one of my fav brit boys ❤️💞

masterlist | tag list

Somewhere near London, UK – year unknown.

Tonight was probably the worst one you ever experienced in your life – well, afterlife –, aside from being turned into a monstrous blood creature against your will just a few months ago. Despite your new inhuman abilities, the mob running and screaming after you still gains ground since you’re leaving a most vivid trail for them to follow.

Though your heart no longer has a normal pulse it feels as if each thump is excruciating pain. The obvious reason might be because you haven't been able to feed yourself properly since you've been... reborn. And so very little human blood was running through your veins because you couldn’t seem to control the hypnosis power. That’s why you’ve been sticking to animal blood but if you were honest, it didn’t give your body the same strength.

Now your body starts to grow heavier by the minute, along with a most painful throb to your fangs that threatens to turn you into a mindless monster that will slaughter aimlessly just to get fed. But that's not what you want. No. No. It may have been four or maybe five months since you could no longer be considered as normal, but still you thought of yourself as a human. And hurting any human was just not conceivable at all for you. You just couldn’t... But sometimes, even the biggest will in the world wasn’t enough anymore.

I feel so sick, I can't go on much longer...

If only these damn hunters knew I wasn't going to kill anyone...

All I wanted was some of her blood because she was alone... just a little bit...

Tears form in the corner of your eyes, feeling like a lost and hopeless child despite being in your twenties. Though you suppose you won’t age anymore now? Or maybe age in such a slow manor you will not be able to see the changes until dozens of years pass. You have no idea at all. The person whom turned you didn't even care to explain a damn thing and just left saying it would be “quite amusing to watch you struggle”.

Your fangs grit in anger just by remembering all this, remembering how and why you could have been so naive – stupid being the right word actually. Willing the tears away you jump into the nearest centenary oak on the side and climb as high as you possibly can. The leaves and branches obscure most of your body, making it easier to hide yourself as you wait in breathless silence for several long minutes. The humans bellow carry guns and crossbows, even torches with blistering fires waving in the cool British wind so hiding from them is definitely the best solution here.

They seem confuse at losing sight of you and your tracks, but the conversation you pick up with your improved hearing foretells how they believe you're still in the area. A tall man with a buff body and dirty blond hair seems the most knowledgeable and well prepared as he dictates how everyone should fan out to cover more space.

Sweat is now dripping all over your body in a way that lets you know your consciousness is going to fade if you don't feed yourself soon. So you use the little strength you have left to escape their sight, silently crawling from a branch to another to reach the next tree. Your senses are becoming dull as well and you know by now you’ll never be able to put up much of a fight if they spot you.

Since there is no one around right now, you decide it may be the best opportunity to climb down and try to get further away into the forest. However, you barely make it to the ground, crunching some leaves beneath your feet before a bullet was fired directly at you. With the quickest slam of your body to the ground, you avoid being hit. For the moment, at least.

“Don't let her get away!”

“Shoot her down! She's weak now!”

Your head shakes, body shivering in a sense of mixed cold and fear, hearing dozens of weapons getting loaded before bullets and arrows start whizzing your way, thanks the lords most of them missing you due to your astute senses. Like blondie said, you are now really weak and can’t help but fail to avoid all of them as one wooden arrow pierces through your shoulder, sending you tumbling to the floor with a screech of pain.

It hurts more than you expected it to, but you grit your teeth and yank it from your skin in one motion. The wound may not be that deep but you can feel blood oozing down your back, staining the fabric of your long dress. After forcing yourself to stand you try to keep running, but after a few steps your body succumbs to your fatigue and falls, noticing the humans have now formed a pretty wide circle around you to cut off every single path possible to escape.

If you weren't this weak and starving for blood, you could fight them off and get away but at this moment, that’s completely impossible. A man with long black hair approaches, extending his hand forward as he’s holding out a wooden cross. The closer he gets the more a headache pounds inside your head, causing you to hiss in agony, tears swelling in your eyes and claws scratching the muddy ground.

Is this the end?

I never got to really live...

I never got to properly love... Love in a way that was true and fulfilling.

A tear slides down your cheek but it's too late. Everyone readies their crossbows and guns to fire at the behest of the long raven haired man. Both of your eyes immediately clench shut, preparing for your upcoming death...

But it never came.

Suddenly, screams and several wet crunches invade your ears while your eyelids slide open the moment you feel an imposing shadow looming over your body. A broad but not too bulky back comes into view as you note a peculiar style of clothing, the vivid red suit they wear contrasting with the dark surrounding of the London outskirt. However the smell of fresh blood rushes through your nostrils, causing your eyes to pulsate and your fangs to throb hungrily.

“How dare you filthy humans attack one of my kind.”

A deep unfamiliar voice penetrates your skull, making you lift your head and discover a tall man with dark wavy hair. He slightly turns towards you, sending you a stoic yet piercing type of glare with intense scarlet pupils that causes goosebumps to bubble all over your body. You have no idea who he is but you can feel in your guts that not only he is indeed a vampire as well but that he's extremely powerful, as demonstrated from the way he dismembers two humans with the vicious dart forward and jerk of his hands. The corpses join the other four on the floor who you discover have their heads decapitated in a clean swipe, no jagged edging to the flesh around their torsos.

The imagery is whiteout a doubt disgusting to even look at, but it's even more appalling that all you can think about is how delicious all this river of bloody disaster smells and how exquisite it would be sliding down you throat. You start to salivate heavily with the madness of hunger, the extreme sensation almost completely overwhelming you but you try your best to hold yourself at bay.

“I didn't expect to see ya again thi' soon, Harry...” your blonde pursuer sighs, his facial expression clearly showing that now, tables have turned.

“I don't want to hear it" interrupts your saviour (at least you hope he is?), his intimidating hoarse voice bringing chills to everyone – you included – while still in front of you. “Leave right now, Niall or I won’t hesitate to rip off y’head too.”

The man named Harry flares all ten of his claws to life, also baring his fangs to definitely reveal that nothing of this was just for show. “'m sick of you killing my people. If they're slaughtering the humans, it would be different but this one–” He turns pointing his finger at you, “this girl hasn't killed anyone. I can smell it... You're chasin' her down for no reason.”

“T-That's not– she was attacking someone, dat's why she got caught–”

"If you speak one more word to me that isn't beggin' for your life followed by leaving, I'll rip all of your limbs before I even go for y’head.”

Harry and Niall stare each other down, the tension as shape as a knife. The human may know how to counter his vampire foe but in all likelihood with most of their numbers dead or bleeding to death, he's aware that right now he has not a single chance. And once again, cohabitation seems the only way to get out of here in one piece (hopefully).

“Fine... we'll be goin'. I know thi’ is yar territory mate, we crossed da border” Niall apologises, a hand over his chest and a small bow before telling his fellow hunters to retreat back to the city.

Though Harry isn't usually happy about letting humans go his posture is finally relaxing a bit, claws retracting as he death glares everyone down until they are no longer insight.

With a long and heaved sigh he fully turns around, finding you holding your head and gritting your fangs in disarray. It's quite clear you are probably not even aware of your surroundings, the blood shot vessels in your eyes telling the brunette your current state of hungriness. As soon as he's by your side in a blink of an eye, he bends down on his knees in front of you, pushing your own hands away so he can clutch your cheeks.

“Calm down, dear, relax your mind. Open your mouth and let me see your fangs, please.”

Though you whimper in uncertainty, that man in front of you is after all the vampire that slaughtered those humans to save you. So you still let him give a look at your small white fangs, your whole jawbone hurting as if you just got punched right in the face.

“I see they haven't grown completely... You must’ve been turned recently, am I right?”

Harry seems slightly angry, though you're not entirely sure it's directed at you but more at his findings. When he pulls back, you follow his body as he grabs a nearby severed arm and brings it back to you. His brows raise in surprise, not expecting this reaction when you whine and push it away, clearly disgusted by it.

“There’s no time to be picky anymore, darling. Y'need to stop thinkin' you're still human, so drink the blood.”

Your head slowly raises, panting as you stare right into his most mesmerising green eyes, some scarlet red from before still outlining his pupils, with your own sorrow filled orbs. Though Harry knows what that look represents, he could hold no sympathy for your lost humanity as he delicately brushes his hand through your hair before pushing the flesh into your mouth for your own good.

It only takes a second for your fight to disappear, the taste of blood that your veins and taste buds have longed for these last weeks finally flowing in your system. Like a wild beast your fangs sink deeper into the arms flesh, sucking and gulping greedily until it's nothing but a shrivelled and discolored severed limb.

The older vampire watches your irises glow with the brightness of your eye colour. In like a snap the strained vessels inside your sclera dissipate bits by bits, assuring that the wound on your back would heal after some minutes as well. Harry expected it when you flicker with your new found strength over to one of the corpses and starts bleeding it dry.

He stands here, crossing his arms over his classy red velvet suit while watching over you. Once he judges you had enough and didn't want you to become addicted in a way that would drive you insane, he carefully but still kind of strongly grab your wrist. You let a little hiss at him, defiantly, which makes him smirk in a way that lets admire his now noticeable dimples and handsome features. Within a few seconds you calm down but Harry is now holding both of your wrists in his grip

“Stay still, dear” was his command, simple yet strict so it feels like you have no choice but to obey.

After letting go of both of your hands once you calmed down, Harry cups your chin with his thumb and index finger, gently turning your head back and forth. You are not sure what the brunette is doing until he finds feint punctures on the side pale skin of you neck. The wound itself seems healed but you still have little small bruises.

“How long ago were you turned and who was it? Why are they not here watchin' over you?”

His array of questions makes you frown, wiggling free of his grasp just so you can huddle your hands around your trembling sorrow body, memories getting their way back into your brain. Memories you consider more as nightmares that keeps hunting you like a damn curse, only to remind you at each breath you take that nothing will be like it was before.

“He was... s-someone I cared about. We'd been seeing each other for a while, and then one day... H-he bit me... a-and forced his blood down my throat.” Telling the story doesn’t really make you feel any better, specially when you let Harry know that the man you trusted only wanted to watch you suffer for his own pleasure.

Seeing a newborn vampire like yourself, looking as lost and fragile as a deer into the wildness, really gets to him. Harry lived for countless centuries he forgot the exact number, but he definitely knows since day one that turning people was against the rules for the most part. At least turning someone and not helping them come into their new desires, powers and hunger. Honestly he is quite impressed you lasted so long on your own when he heard you say it has been nearly five months.

“Come this way, darlin'. The air reeks of human filth out her’.”

With a sudden but graceful turn the vampire starts walking away and finds it amusing how you scamper behind him like a lost puppy. Even your hand grabs the back of his velvety suit, like you dread the feeling of being alone. His comparison to you as newborn is not to be mean or even condescending. You are just so new to your turning that it is perfectly plausible to be scared and anxious about literally anything in your surrounding.

Harry doesn’t mind at all and pretty soon, you both are stepping deeper into the forest your attack happened for a good twenty minutes if not more. Then in front of you slowly appears what looks like a field, a large meadow embraced by the night and in its middle a quint little cottage. It looks nice and homey, but not what you first expected from a fearful creature like him.

“It's not a castle...”

The older vampire sneers at your remark and then turns to you, showing a surprisingly charming grin before pointing to the east. “My real home's far away from here, that's where the castle of y’stories will be. It's vast an' much larger than y'could possibly think, but I don't really fancy it.”

Your eyes blink curiously at him before gasping and pointing your finger in disbelief, a sudden realisation sticking your mind.

“O-Oh my god– are you from r-ro-royalty?!”

“You could say that” the brunette grins while pushing some curly locks back from his forehead. “Lord Harold Edward Styles, is what they call me. Harry for short.”

He merely cackles when your eyes start to swirl in confusion, before babbling nonstop that you didn't know and hope in the same breath with fearful eyes that he won’t kill you. Harry can’t help but frown at this, letting out a sigh.

“Come 'ere and tell me your name, dear. I have no reason to kill ya.”

For some reason, the peaceful and serious expression on his face feel trustworthy, offering his hand like a safety net he knows you need to feel secure. So after a small nibble of your bottom lip, you slowly place your petite hand in his and let him pull you inside his home.

“My name is (Y/N)... Thank you for saving me, my Lord.”

It honestly feels awkward to refer to him like that but maybe was it his rightful term? Being now a vampire yourself, you assume your “rank” is probably way lower than his so “serving” him seems... obvious, right? Yet anything that was happening since you began this new life was a matter of pure confusion to you, even more now since your new encounter with this vampire from royalty.

“You wanted to know who turned me... well, his name was Nick. I don't know if he's still around here, I'm sorry–”

“Just call me Harry, darlin’. I don't care at all for useless formalities unless y’break the rules or try to attack me.”

You viciously nod your head. Never would you do that, you still feel incredibly grateful and intimated by just being in his presence.

“The name sounds familiar as well. A fugitive whose turns 'umans against their will for dozens of years...” Harry mutters to himself, looking pissed that the enforcers in charge of catching people like that still haven't.

And so over the next few days, you learned about your new species in details and got a low down on all the rules you must do your best to follow at all costs. Harry even began to teach you about your abilities and how to tame your appetite for blood, though he commented once again that you were handling yourself well from the beginning.

Harry is for sure a mysterious man and doesn’t honestly act like someone whom is probably rightful King to the vampire’s world. It’s pretty clear he lived a long life while yours had just started. He appears to you as a ray of hopeful guidance in a world that becomes murky and malleable.

“(Y/N), dear, come 'ere.”

At his beckoning call, you place down the book you're reading and come to sit down next to him on the couch. At this point you've been staying with him in the cottage for a few months and knew what to expect when his hands approach your visage to cup your cheeks. Though it’s still a little embarrassing, but still you part your lips and let him examine your fangs like he has many times before ever since you met.

“They're just 'bout fully grown, since you've been fed regularly.”

Your head nod as his hands delicately slide away. It looks like there is something going on his mind, an internal struggle based on his body language that you get used to understand by now.

“Are you still havin' headaches and painful pulses?”

Honestly you wish to say no so he wouldn't worry. But the man likes the truth and only the truth as if the word is his middle name, and you own him that.

“Sometimes... but I'm fine right now. I thought it might be a form of withdraw?”

“You're not too far off. That piece of– person who turned ya didn't give you enough blood. Your human cells an' new vampire ones were basically fighting for dominance at the beginning, but it's clear which one will win in the end.”

Lifting his hand he uses the sharp claw of his index to slice a gash across his palm. Instantly his dark red blood pools in his grasp, before holding it out towards you.

“Drink.”

“I... c-can't?” It comes out as a question because you are indeed confused. “I mean– am I even allowed to? You're the vampire Lord after all... I–I don't want you to get in trouble–”

Harry chuckles immediately, like there isn’t a being alive that could punish him for breaking the rules. With a lift of his unharmed hand looping around your hip, he has you feeling all kind of dizzy when he clenches his fist and dripped his blood onto your plump pink lips.

“Just drink, dear. Maybe I need to start teachin' ya not to question my decisions, mmh?”

His words and your newfound position that has you sitting in his lap makes you feel bashful. You barely begin to lick your lips when the brunette lets you grab his hand to hold it up against your mouth. He feels your warm tongue lap lightly at first along his cold skin, before pursing against the wound and slowly starting to suck.

“That's it... You can sink y'fangs in if you want. The wound will heal faster than you think.”

You blink your big doe eyes at him, your face wondering without a word if all this is alright but you know Harry doesn’t want you to doubt him. Pulling back for just a second you take a breath and bare you fangs again, gently pressing into his skin enough to gulp a little more of his blood. As soon as he decides you had enough Harry pulls back and to your surprise, his wound and marks of your fangs both disappear within a few seconds.

The corners of his pale lips edge up, amused by your astonishment but he startles you with a reposition of your body before you can even realise anything. Now your legs are suddenly straddling either side of his hips, both of your hands pressing timidly at the turquoise suit covering his shoulders with confusion and shyness as the vampire brushes back your hair and leans down to your neck.

“My turn, now” his voice enticingly rasps against your skin. “We can replenish each other thi' way... though my blood is more to stabilise your vampire genes.”

Harry aires the hottest breath along your neck as he then bares his long fangs and sinks deeply into your flesh. You can’t help but gasp, but it sounds more like a moan that you aren’t completely aware of as he starts sucking your warm liquid.

“O-oh Harry–”

He smirks at your honesty, looping both of his hands around your backside. Within seconds he feels your own unsure sway, with the slow pet up against the back of his dark curls. It's been awhile since the brunette had a woman in his arms so his instincts and desires are telling him to take advantage of it.

But in the end Harry resolves against himself as you are still new to his world, and just wants to help you without adding strings. After a handful of seconds and a gulp or two of your sweet wine he pulls back, tenderly lapping up and down the holes until they heal properly and then help you sliding off his lap to make you sit next to him, catching sight of a shy blush of your cheeks and slightly faze expression.

“You shouldn't experience headaches anymore, darlin'” he begins almost too indifferently, “just don't do anything futile an' you’ll get used to bein' a vampire in no time.”

Next Harry sits up more comfortably, flattening his cream oversize pantsuits over his thighs as he side-eyes your cute expression – though is kind of displeased that you’re not looking at him anymore. But he does have to admit that teasing someone was such a nice sensation.

"I’m goin’ to make us some food, so relax in the meantime.”

You simply nod as an answer, definitely not trusting your voice since only stutters would come out if you try. But Harry doesn’t seem to pay attention to your lack of vocal answer, a satisfied expression on his face since he keeps enjoying the reactions you get over anything he does. And as much as he could simply use pressure to dominate and have you sweating in fear, all the man wants is a companion that won’t mind being at his side for awhile.

And so that's exactly who you became to the vampire.

Even after a few months and display that you were functioning perfectly as a vampire and could live on your own without trouble if you desired, you stayed. But the disheartened expression you showed him when Harry said you could leave struck a chord inside his chest. It was clear you thought he’s got tired of you or that you weren't allowed to stay with someone like him for very long because of his status.

Instantly the older vampire put a stop to any of those thoughts by saying that if you wanted to stay, you could. He wasn't kicking you out, he was only giving you the opportunity to leave and see the world by yourself. You were still a young and inexperienced vampire after all. Though the thought of traveling didn't sound like a bad idea, the year you spent with Harry up to this point had been very enjoyable. He held a most gentle yet imposing aura, which was only right since he was not just Lord in name but mostly in power. However that wasn't why you wanted to stay.

Harry had taken care of you and made you feel safe. The feeling you began to experience for him was new but somehow, you wanted to nurture the desire to be with him and make him happy if possible. The way he talked, teased, touched, held you in his grasp and let you feed off of him felt so intimate and somehow romantic.

In this respect time flew by and in a way felt like it had frozen since neither of you would show any signs of ageing. Both of you grew closer and found out that Harry was (surprisingly) a great cook, received visitors from the castle he told you about almost all the time and had a soft spot for the graceful beauty of nature. It was not that hard to tell because the brunette admitted right away that he enjoyed wandering outside the cottage, might be only to walk around or appreciate the first rays of dawn or sunset. And you could tell he took care to not trample the flowers under his steps and sometimes, you saw him watering the ones around his front porch. Some days you would even notice a new bouquet freshly gathered, settled in a Victorian style vase on the living room table. It was a small most insignificant trait, but you adored finding out those types of mannerisms.

“Harry?” you call softly with a thoughtful finger under your chin. At first you thought he was reading in his study since he had a nice little library, but the room was empty. Turning back, you check the living room and kitchen but they are both empty as well.

For a moment you wonder if he stepped out without saying – he's done it multiple times before. However you stop in front of his bedroom and get the feeling he might be taking a nap, another thing that isn’t uncommon. If he indeed is resting you don’t want to disturb him but after a small knock, you peak your head inside the room.

Low and behold there the brunette vampire is laying sprawled out on his bed, the silly thought that it should have been a coffin makes you giggle but you learned with him that many stereotypical aspects of vampires are so wrong – though it's true you can't walk in the sunlight, that crosses can cause pain and any significant damage to your body will kill you.

Now that you know he's asleep, you can't ask him what you wanted. Without getting too close you watch him sleep for a second and find his peaceful expression alleviating. Every now and then, you get the feeling the weight of the world was on his shoulders. And inside your heart, you know he was such a good man. After maybe a minute you turn back, ready to head out the room but his low and raspy voice calls out to you in a way that has you tripping over your own feet, bumping into the nearby wall.

“What is it, (Y/N)? Aren’t ya a bit clumsy, dear?” Harry snickers while sitting up, watching you rub your shoulder with a flustered expression.

From the look on your face and the way you avoid eye contact, he can clearly guess what you are bashfully unsure of if it's alright to ask of him.

“If you want to be fed, come ‘ere.”

The fact that Harry always knows what's on your mind is a little scary and reassuring at the same time because he has never used any of his power to harm you. With soft eyes, you step over to the right side of his bed and watch as he unbuttons the first few around the collar of his extravagant flowing shirt. As soon as his neck is exposed from the lacy collar, the vampire leans to the side beckoning you to take what you want without a word.

A gulp slides down your throat as you sit down on the edge of the bed. With the lift of your hands, you slowly push his pearly necklace up then press them on each of his shoulders before brushing your nose along his neck, fanning an ever soft breath against his skin with the bare of your fangs.

“I really like your personality, Harry... I-I’ve never met anyone like you.”

Your tender confession catches him off guard more than the actual prick of your fangs, not that any bite you'd already given him comes with very much force. The brunette can feel himself enjoying the way you suck his blood out of his system. It’s definitely a hard thing to play off for him right now, and it has actually been every single day you shared with him.

When you had a gulp or two you then part a little and tenderly kitten-like lap at your punctures, speeding up the healing process for him.

“... do you want to bite me as well?”

Though your cheeks are a little warm you show a most candid smile, brushing back your hair to display your neck for him just as he has done for you.

“I do, but... I'll decide where I want to bite ya. Just relax, darlin'.”

Despite a little confusion, you don’t mind the tug of your body closer to his own. Both of his unblinking emerald orbs glanced your body up and down in a way that makes you feel embarrassed. If he’s not going to bite your neck, where else is he going to sink his fangs?

The dress you have on is a simple long white off the shoulder variety that honestly displays some of your skin while still letting you look sweet and innocent. Honestly Harry likes it a lot – maybe a bit too much actually – just because he would wickedly enjoy defiling that imagery in his mind. You are a kind and sweet woman, a total sweetheart indeed, but the man already found out vividly that you liked pleasure just as much as anyone else does.

Without thinking very much his cold hand raises up against your right knee, the tail of your outfit covering it. The way you shyly bite your bottom lip with your fangs is a hell of a nice image. Harry only caresses a little bit along your inner thigh before sliding his hand under the fabric, and then rest it directly on your skin. Edging his head forward he startles you with the way he tugs down the middle of you dress with his fangs, until he can see perfectly between your cleavage.

The location Harry chose is so confusing that your frame jolts the moment the vampire sinks into your flesh. Both his hands are against your body, enjoying its shape as he gulps your sweet nectar greedily. He savours your startled grasp on his shirt but the uneven pulse he feels beneath your flesh encourages him to keep going, his now scarlet orbs flickering with heavier desire.

All it takes is another small tug to reveal your bare breasts to his lidded sight. By time you realise his lips are already pursed around the closest nipple, warmly lapping the flat of his tongue in a way that feels exquisite. Like the male vampire you quickly get caught up in the moment, leaning your head back to moan and enjoy the added fray of his hand squeezing the other breast.

For a moment, you briefly thinks about how his saliva and tongue are both so warm as they suckle and lick your skin, when his flesh is cold and pale like your own. The answer doesn’t matter specially as his fangs tease your little nub. It’s clear Harry can’t hold back no more, now sunking savagely into your mound.

“O-oh my–!”

A ripple of pure ecstasy slides all over your body, causing you to moan Harry’s name not just once but a couple of times. The pleasure is so unexpected yet your arms circle around his shoulders, curving along his fine muscles but that’s when he realises how he’s letting his lust for you take over him.

Abruptly the brunette detaches from you, a small pop making you gasp but for the most part your hazy expression questions him with such want that he has to look away for his own sanity. The unhindered view of your breasts really dulls all of his develop senses. It had been awhile since he felt such powerful sexual desire for a woman, definitely way too long since his body was apparently getting out of control and a mind of its own.

“Get out” Harry suddenly growls, making you frown and wonder what you’ve done wrong. “I didn't mean to do that– I just got caught up in trying to tease ya. If you're still hungry, go find a human.” When you don’t seem to move, still shocked at his harsh way of talking that rarely happen (in fact it never happens with you), the vampire turns his head back while flaring his menacing dark embers at you in a way that makes you tremble.

With a hurt expression you quickly cover your chest, trying to fix your dress the best you can before apologising like a hurt puppy and simply scamper at the speed of the light out of the room. Once alone, a now heavy silence settled in, Harry’s fists bowl-clawing his palms but it was the least he cared about. He didn’t mean to scare you, in fact he's been trying so hard not to use any of his powers on you.

The man is centuries older than you and shouldn't care about trivial feelings you may have, but both of you had such a good relationship since now and a part of him doesn’t want it to change... though Harry has always seen you as a beautiful woman. It’s not like he can’t admit that much at last, the man was kind of bad at expressing himself out loud most of the time. What he was most unsure about is if you really wanted him or if it was your vampire senses that tells you to submit to him like that.

With a heavy sigh he buttons his white shirt half way up, arranging his long and floating sleeves while deciding he should at least check on you. After all Harry won’t blame you for leaving if you want to create space between you two. Because now that he thinks about it, never did he ever speak to you like he did five minutes ago, and repeatedly calls himself a douche for that.

The thought quickly – and thankfully – dissipates the moment he steps into the hall and hears the running water from the shower inside your bedroom. A relived expression formed on his face, glad that you didn’t leave. Abandonment was something he was used to over the centuries and had lived through many times. It’s honestly a miracle it had been about three years at this point and you maintained a good playful relationship with each other – well, until a few moments ago.

Soundlessly, Harry edges down the hall and notices the door of your bedroom open. As he approaches towards it, he finds himself inside the room before advancing to the closed bathroom door. Now in front of it he closes his eyes and place his hand on the wooden doorframe. His senses are far more astute than your own so every subtle breath you take, movements through the water or flex of your hands as they rubbed soap against your pale body... he could picture it pretty vividly. Just imagining the curves of your body is turning him on, specially thanks to the welcomed sneak peak at your chest from earlier. His fingers silently curl around the door knob, a light voice in his head reminding him once again he should stop before reaching the point of no return, that he should leave you in peace to wash up and later and offer you a nice meal as an apology for being a complete jackass earlier.

However, he can't. His senses twinge with the soothing aroma of lavender tickling his nostrils, knowing that's the soap he got you some weeks ago. With the slowest of movement that you won’t hear nor sense if you don't focus on it, the brunette opens the door wide enough to allow him a peak through the crack.

The first thing his eyes drag over is your long dress crumpled on the floor along with a soft cotton pair of light blue panties. Without waiting a second longer he tilts up and gets a completely unhindered view of your backside. His eyes follow the dip of your spine to the soft plush curve of your ass and long legs. Just observing this much of you has him gulping down hungrily but the moment you turn, using both hands to accentuate your breasts and stomach, there is no path to return to. All Harry can do is pant an uneven breath as you sway the water over your womanly shapes, washing away the soapy sheen of bubbles and suds.

The content and relaxed hum you air echoes inside the small space of the glass shower, bringing the man goosebumps of delight like a moan without sexual inclination. The more he watches your body and the subtle move of your fingers, the more Harry can't stop his own from unzipping his pantsuit to free his cock. His strong fingers curl around his girth, slowly pumping himself up and down as he watches you bend over just a bit to let water cascade down your back. An instant burn of want invades his entire body, the desire to squeeze those fine cheeks or even offer you a naughty little spank not leaving his mind.

Harry watches your hands do exactly what he desires when they pet down your hips and accentuate the shape of your bottom, like the water feels particularly nice cascading against it. Honestly, the smirk can’t leave his face. You're incredibly and undeniably sexy in a most natural way, so why holding back? His palm squeezes the tip of his manhood with excited fervor, still watching you smile shyly at the barely noticeable bite marks on your chest. You like to an extreme when the brunette vampire bites you, there’s no denying this fact as you moaned it to him many times. And Harry has a feeling you would have let him go further if he didn’t get confused about his fantasies.

The claws of his other hand dig into the frame of the door, scratching it all up as he pumps himself with the unbearable desire he has inside his guts for you to touch him. It doesn't even have to be his cock, he'd be fine with you admiring his body like you have before or stroking through his hair with that soft content smile on your delicate pink lips.

Thoughts inside his head become more erotic when he looks up at the sound of your soft voice humming a little tune. Both of his now dark scarlet eyes end up focusing on your mouth and gritting his teeth in a haze of wanting to feel those plump appendages against his girth. The movement of your tongue and warmth of your throat he can picture so vividly bring him closer and closer to the edge with each squeeze along his base and tip.

He even finds the way you rinse your hair to be erotic because you look so whimsical. A thought of wanting to devour you in every single way possible is what officially sends him over the edge, causing him to grind his teeth and grunt your name as he comes all over his hand.

His mind is so cloudy and hazy he doesn't even care that you’ve finally noticed him. Your eyes widen in total surprise, but your complexion darkens at the lewd sight of his arousal dripping from his fingers. Your head turns away before you can implode from embarrassment, hot water still running along your naked skin. You can’t help the deepest thoughts running wild and wondering if Harry was watching you shower to eventually pleasure himself to your body while doing so.

“Don't act shy now, my dear. I'm about to join you.”

At first you blink in confusion, glancing back in his direction to watch as he shuts the bathroom door to be inside the room with you. This signature showing-dimples grin enlightens his face in a way that reveals his pearly white fangs, before letting his already oversize black pantsuits fall to the floor. Harry is pretty quick to unbutton his shirt again, the soft and almost see-through fabric sliding off his shoulder to cascade on the floor soon followed by his trousers and underpants, leaving him absolutely naked for your eyes only.

Harry is the most attractive man you've ever laid your eyes on. A tall and sculptured vampiric body that probably hasn't changed for hundreds of years. With a few steps forward the brunette is on the other side of the shower glass door and wraps his fingers around the handle, ready to erase any distance separating you both. He pauses his movement for a few seconds, letting both of you take in each other’s new found appearance and what might be about to happen.

“If I join you, (Y/N)” begins Harry almost in a whisper, his eyes never leaving yours, “... I won’t ever be able to leave ya alone.”

Your eyes rise in surprise, his expression reflective of how serious he was being. For a second or two you turn away, your hands covering your face which is giving him the impression you might be having second thoughts. Though the croak of your voice and the tender expression you offer when you slowly spin back proves how you've been able to constantly surprise him these past years.

“Is that a promise?"

Without a second thought Harry is right by your side and looming over you in a possessive dominating way. Both of his hands pet along the warm and wet edge of your stomach, before gripping your hips and tugging you completely into his body. Without pretence his expression represents just how much he enjoys your whole and can’t wait but brush some of your hair sticked on your face, assuring you he can't wait another second to kiss you.

The distance between you both closes with the warmest capture of your lips that quickly becomes some passionate tongue action. It honestly feels that divine you couldn't stop yourself from moaning into the kiss. The warmth of the water doubles nicely the little fire forming inside your guts, in a way that affirms you’ve never felt such a discombobulating kiss before.

Right away Harry greedily begins stroking, groping and petting every single supple curve your body has to offer. Even your own hands note the nice shape of his back and every defined dreamy muscle. His lips curve up as he tugs playfully at your bottom lip, the gentle way you appreciate his shape really has him feeling some type of way.

“Give yourself to me, darlin’, this time I won’t be holdin’ back.”

The air of his wanting rasp meets the underside of your chin, of which Harry is currently kissing his way down. With a press of both his hands on your lower back he has you arching and moaning as he licks between your breasts. When the vampire starts to nip at your plush skin, it’s even more overwhelming because not only is he pursing his lips but his tongue is gliding all over you. The flat of his wet muscle makes sure to whirl around the ridge of your nipple, assuring it’s perfectly erect before nibbling on it with his fangs.

“Oh Harry, that feels so good...”

Hearing your honest pleasure encourages him to absolutely cover your breasts in love bites both a literal and physical way, each mark more blissful than the next. Your mind becomes so consumed you don’t even know Harry is backing you up until you meet with the wet and slightly cold tiles.

Just looking up to admire the shower water perfectly cascading over his rippling muscles – his weirdly yet attractive inked skin on full display and usual necklaces in place – is the most blessed image you could wish for. This Adonis of a man looks so perfect that you lean up to offer him your own slow and sensual desire filled kiss. Little do you know he enjoys your initiative, specially since you’re kitty licking around his tongue.

Slowly Harry begins to take over such as his more dominate nature, but you oh so don’t mind. In fact you’re getting lost in the way his strong hands fondle and squish your chest. The thumb of his left hand even circled around the perky tip, while his middle and index on his other give you some slow pinches like he’s determined to have you mewling into his mouth.

“I must ‘ave been out of my mind to wait three fuckin’ years to ‘ave you...” Harry growls while baring his fangs, pressing into the top area of your shoulder. The bite he gives isn’t even painful since the puncture is slow and the suckle he drinks your blood feels so pleasurable.

“H-Harry, I’ve never felt any pain w-when you bite me” you start, stuttering from all his attention on you. “I-I thought I was weird, b-but I can't help but want so much more...”

Harry’s lips curve up against your skin as you let a louder and more frequent moan, not only because the vampire leaves deep red hickeys on your neck and collarbones, but because his hand slides down to rest between your legs.

The moment you sense it outlining your womanhood, you arch your back while clutching your hands tightly around his shoulders. Without waiting his index and middle finger caress your lower lips for just a second or two, before encouraging your legs to spread further apart so Harry can thrust them effortlessly into your core.

“A-ah– feels so good!”

Enraptured by your praise, Harry increases his rhythm and feels the thump of your slow heartbeat. His own is probably pulsing in the same way, it's been so long since the man felt this exhilarated. With a caress at your hip for you to steady, the wobble your legs frays at his kisses all over your breasts and even a slippery curl with his tongue down to your belly button.

By the time you try to follow what’s happening, the brunette is already on his knees between your legs, kissing nonstop at your inner thighs. Out of the corner of his eye you can tell Harry is actually watching himself glide his fingers in and out of your slippery folds. It should be embarrassing, but you find that more thrilling than anything else. He’s so passionate as a lover, the attention he gives being excruciatingly euphoric whatever he does.

“Earlier” his raspy voice mumbles against your thigh before he proceeds, “I was so tempted to push y'down an’ bite your thigh...”

As he licks hungrily at your skin, you recall how he caressed up your upper leg earlier, the touch offered when you woke him up was oddly intimate. It made you bashful since it was so sudden, but if he had done as he wanted you wouldn't have stopped him.

“Now I’ve a second chance... so don't mind if I do, darlin’.”

Your chest heaves with the warmth bubbling all over your skin as you watch the bare of his pointy sharp fangs and the immediate pierce into your inner thigh. A loud moan echoes around the shower, the vibrations prickling Harry’s ears and assuring he won’t part from your delectable flesh until he gives you his most vivid love bite.

Your head shakes at how all consuming the pleasure you’re gladly receiving feels. And as he sucks the sweet blood from your thigh, he doesn’t hesitate to add a third finger into your fold, now working a pace that lets you know in accurate detail that you're indeed incredibly wet. It’s not just the shower anymore, both of you know this for a fact. By now you have no problem admitting you’re turned on like a thousand lightbulbs.

“Your smell’s drivin’ me insane...!” came his lidded snarl, some little blood dripping down his chin but quickly washed away by the shower. Harry is darting for your womanhood like a famished animal, the instant curl of his fingers along your slit having you whimpering and yanking at his wet hair a bit too hard.

“F-fuck– I’m sorry Harry” you whimper out your sincere apologise along with a moan, the back of your head bumping on the tile wall as if the king of vampires like the one kneeling between your legs could get hurt from such a small type of friction. “It feels like I-I can't breath– feels so good!”

"If you're that out of it, y'can be rougher...”

His warm breath hazes over the sensitive bead of your clit, making you convulse in pleasurable disarray. With his hands taking a fist full of your ass, Harry pushes you deeper against his tongue to then curl it up and down. The sensation of him lapping against your slick inner walls has you seeing stars, knowing a man has never eaten you out so hungrily before.

With the constant pant of your moans filling the primal space inside his head, there is only one and simple desire he has: to make you cum on his tongue and no matter what, he will not pull away until you do. It’s more rewarding than you'll ever know to have your writhing body in his grasp, not just your trembling legs when he had the chance to have you innocently straddle him, but the arousal coating his lips and the subtle desire filled push of your hands that want him even deeper inside you were exciting in a maddening way.

“A-ah please Harry, I c-can't–!”

You are barely able to tell him how close you’re feeling right now, as drool ebbs heavily down your lips. Harry is already aware though because of the curl of your fingers, each tugging at his hair in your peak of utmost disorienting pleasure.

With a gentle pat over your soft wet body, he squishes both of your breasts and thrusts his red muscle in a most detail oriented type of way. Your praises grow in frequency as well, telling him how utterly euphoric you feels and how hot the knot in your stomach makes your skin burn, bringing you closer to your end. Everything kinda rushes to the tipping point with a pinch to your buds, causing the instant convulse of your folds and drench of your fluids flow down his chin, assuring the fangs in his mouth are vividly pulsating.

It takes everything not to sink in to your most sensitive body part. Harry manages to calm himself down with the caress of your hands falling limp, feeling one curve around his ear to hold him gently where he is. With the thought of how much he needs to claim you, the brunette gulps down your nectar and even laps the slippery sheen coating your slit.

As he raises back up to stand, all it takes is a small hazy blink for you to miss completely the way Harry yanks up both of your legs and positioned you right against his cock. “’m gonna take you hard an' fast– can't wait another second to make y'mine.”

Your lips part but all you’re able to say is a pant of his name, while coiling tightly around his neck and nodding your head.

“Have all of me, take me Harry–”

The vampire most certainly doesn’t have to be told twice, so without hesitation he thrusts deeply into your slippery folds. His speed is just as instantaneous as the pleasure you start to drown in. You never knew your voice could go so loud and high pitched until a man with much vigour and strength named Harry came along, thrusting his hips in a way that fills you to the brim with every movement he makes.

“S-Shit you're so fuckin' wet– so tight ‘round me, only for me–”

His fangs are on domineering display, getting off on your pleasurable honesty just as much as the throb of your tight folds. You don’t get to see his expression though as you leaned your head back again but this time caused by a every aggressive slam of your ass on his thighs. That gives him the perfect opportunity to enjoy your neck, so the vampire doesn’t mind.

Each electrifying kiss left on your skin feels exceptional, every sway of his hips lets you know he’s a well endowed man and quite honestly just being in his arms has you feeling this way. This man didn't have to save you or take you in and just could have gotten rid of your at any time. But the instant he's allowed you to stay and gave you a comforting space to get used to your knew desires and vampiric body.

There is a part of you that wishes you still has a conventional heartbeat just so you could feel how erratic it could be thundering against your ribcage. However, even without a human heartbeat you still knew you were excited beyond all belief. Just being able to run your hands along his shoulders, maybe even brush up against the back of his head has you feel like his long time lover.

“Fuck, I can't get enough of ya” Harry suddenly growls in madness, dropping one of your legs back against the floor while he pulled the other higher up and hold your thigh, basically watching himself rammed his thick cock into your body. There’re not a single word forming on the tip of your tongue other than whimpers and mewls of ecstasy.

His speed and precision to hit your most sensitive spots are probably only possible due to his improved senses and longevity. No doubt in your mind Harry probably had many past lovers before you but you don’t really care. He always tells you to live in the moment and not muddle through just because of your past.

“You're now a vampire, (Y/N). Act like one for your own sake.”

These are the words he told you over the past shared years together, which became your mantra to feel validated in your new life. Speaking of your new desires, your fangs are constantly throbbing and pulsating for the past minute, reason why your eyes have been glued to his neck and shoulder ever since. The need to bite him is so overwhelming that you simply don’t care to ask before diving forward to sink deeply into the space right bellow his ear.

“H-hah, y'little vixen– that feels so damn good, have your fill” the brunette encourages you with no malice but utter pleasure.

In fact he’s enjoying the twinge of your fangs so much his fervour keeps increasing. His hips edge even closer while his clawed hand takes a hold of your waist and starts slapping at your inner thighs in a way that have your arousal dripping profusely onto the shower floor.

You can’t stop yourself from moaning against his skin or salivating heavily as you absorb down his delectable blood. You swear his nectar tastes even more delicious then it ever has before, like the most finest aged wine. It's a thought you can barely focus on as you suddenly toss your head back, feeling yourself reach a most blissful end.

The moment Harry senses your insides clench repeatedly, he shoves his tongue down your throat and becomes enraptured in the way you meet his every slapping movements. Heavy saliva from both of you mixes together, dripping profusely down your chin as soon as you feels the deeply penetrating thrust of his cock slam into your womb. His arousal fills you to the brim in a way that makes you drift through euphoria.

After some time the brunette parts from your kissed swollen lips, a thin sheen of saliva still connects you together before quickly breaking when he licks his fine pale lips. The vampire smirks at you in complete satisfaction while ever slowly edging his girth away from your wall, not without admiring how thickly coated in your juices his manhood is. Maybe Harry even salaciously admires the dribble of your combined arousal from your slit, but it’s clear you are feeling utterly spent and can only keep yourself up by pressing a bit at his chest and shoulders, leaning your back against the tiles behind you.

With a soft expression that suits him so heavenly, Harry tenderly strokes his hands up your body while admiring once again the plush shape of your stomach, breasts and the slender trail up your neck to cup your soft cheeks. The smile you give him proves he’s offering all the affection he is able of with the sensual touch of your lips with his. This kiss is the slowest and most romantic you ever felt from him yet, while the brunette lifts you in his arms properly again before pulling away from the kiss.

“I'll help you dry off, dear. ‘think we've soaked in the shower long enough.”

“Thank you Harry” you thank him with a slight smile, your cheeks nuzzled into his wet chest before placing a kiss there that has him avoiding your gaze and wondering where a romance like this has been all his long life.

You sit still once he settles you on the sink counter, wiggling cutely as he dries you off with purposeful caresses of your more intimate body parts. When he also dries himself both of you get dressed – you into the long nightdress you took before your shower and him back in his oversized pantsuits only. Afterwards, you take his hand as Harry walks you both out of your bathroom. It’s clear you wish for him to lay with you in your nearby bed but he hesitates at the edge of it, looking towards your still wide open door. It seems like Harry wants to escape but that’s not it at all. He is looking towards his study at the other side of the hallway where an item he had hidden was secretly and well kept.

“I'll be right back– hey, don't make that face, darlin’... I'll lay with ya when I come back.”

You lean into the palm of his warm hand that softly strokes your cheek, adding a hopeful nod. Your soft eyes trail behind his tall figure as Harry steps out into the hall, leaving your door cracked open behind him. With a little doubt forming in your heart you lay on the silk mattress of your bed and turn, rolling back and forth like a restless child waiting for time to fly as fast as possible.

It took him longer than he wanted as he struggled with whether this was the right thing to do or completely the opposite, tons of questions invading his mind: did you want him as much as he wanted you, and so should he trust you with a secret only a handful of the Royal vampires know? His hundreds of years differs so greatly from your barely twenty-five-ish ones. The brunette keeps rushing his thoughts because first, he wants you to be happy and second, he doesn’t want to be alone anymore.

With the item in his hands, Harry clenches his fingers tightly around it and makes his way back to your side. As he enters the silent room, smelling some faint aroma of lavender from your previous shared (hot) shower, you’re actually snoring softly while sprawled out in a way that takes up nearly the entire bed, which makes the brunette slightly chuckles at how silly yet adorable you are. He shakes his head with the soft expression you love so much on him, effortlessly scooting you further to one side before climbing in next to you.

For a couple of minutes Harry strokes your hair and caresses your skin, before taking your right hand and placing on your fourth finger a gold ring with a glimmering ruby jewel in its middle. Your eyes flicker open at the feeling, followed by a small yawn while watching the careful placement of your new jewellery with a bashful smile.

“... Are you asking me to marry you, Harry?”

His emerald eyes open wide in shock, skin darkening more than you thought a creature like him was capable of. Instantly the brunette uses your palm to cover his face and slowly shakes his head, the white pearl of his necklace softly jiggling around his neck at this. The breath from his parted lips tickles your skin and honestly makes you fall at peace.

“N-no– well n-not yet at least, uh–” Harry stutters, still hiding his face with your hand. He clears his throat before continuing “though this is my gift to you, love.”

You can’t see the way he actually bites his bottom lip, but your eyes notice both his hands covered in rings that he always wears. And one catches your attention, the one with a similar ruby jewel in the middle yet of a different shape.

“This will allow ya to walk 'round in the sunlight, this way it will no longer cause you any harm, my dear.”

“Really? But you said that it would always hurt...?”

“Without an amulet blessed an’ enchanted by a powerful witch, the sunlight will cause us vampires harm. That’s why you must always wear it.”

Harry lowers your combined hands so you’re finally able to see the serious expression on his face. “You must never tell anyone abou' this. Not a single soul, vampire or human alike, my dear. No one.”

“I would never cause you trouble, Harry. And I promise I'll take this secret to my grave” you respond back, arms sliding around his hips like a silent wish to lay your head against his bare torso, a motion which your lover gladly welcomes by sliding his fingers through your hair.

With a thankful smile you get comfortable, closing your eyes in hopes to snuggle with him while you sleep.

“People will not question it if y’tell them you were sired by me” proceeds the brunette vampire abasing your hair, fingers still entangled in your soft locks to massage your scalp. “It's a misconception tha' pure royal vampires are born immune to the hurtful rays of sunlight... Most of our kind think a person turned by us will also be immune.”

“I wish... I had been turned by you” you let out in a whisper while keeping your face nuzzle against Harry’s chest. “I want to be with you for as long as I'm able to.”

The vampire can’t resist but leave feather-like kisses on your forehead and hairline, your confession definitely making him feel... alive. His hot breath hitting your skin gently soothe you and so are his kisses, the sudden brush of his nose against your face bringing a delightful giggle out of you which Harry would never get tired of.

“Maybe I'll be the one to ask you to marry me, who knows...” you add, your index finger sliding over his pearl necklace with a define grin on your face.

No words could describe how you make Harry feel. Never has he been more grateful for the quick way you fall asleep just so he could hug you tightly against him. Maybe later, he will be able to tell you that, as surprising as that may sound, the man has never been married in his long life either. There has never been someone this special to him to go for it. It's indeed hard to say if Harry wants to make that commitment with you at this point either the thing he’s sure of is his wish - no, his desire to be with you. Forever.

“Good night, my love... Maybe tomorrow I’ll take ya to the castle y’ask me about all the time.”

* * *

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

extra 2 for Tedious Joys - warnings for adult content, WRH/Lao Nie, slightly dubcon, not necessarily in the same universe as the previous extra, possibly AU

ao3 link

Humans had three modes of dealing with evil things: fighting, feeding, and fucking.

Much to Jiwei’s disgust, it seemed that her Master could not be dissuaded from treating with Wen Ruohan through the last of these.

You’re disgusted any time I pick the ‘fucking’ option, her Master said tolerantly. He was watching Wen Ruohan’s body as the other man moved through the crowd like a shark amidst waters filled with fat fish, merciful and restrained only in his current lack of interest and yet convinced of his superiority. You’re barely more interested when I pick ‘feeding’, and my body would collapse if I stopped doing that.

I’ve heard good things about inedia, Jiwei retorted, but her Master only laughed. You agree that he’s evil, though.

Jiwei, sweetheart, you think almost everyone is evil.

Because they are!

The ethical frailty of humanity was practically a given at this point: one need only look around this sect conference to find examples of it, the hall teeming with the stench of moral corruption. Sect leaders who would sell their daughters for an iota more of power, who had blood on their hands from executions conducted behind closed doors, liars, thieves, cheats, crooks, evil –

To be both good and evil is natural, Jiwei, even for us two. It’s not worthy of a death sentence.

Jiwei was not arguing in any seriousness: she had long ago reached the conclusion that it was not a debate that her Master was inclined to yield upon, and of course he had long ago won the argument. After all, her Master had done his share of terrible things too, in his time, to defend his sect and his family as needed, and she had been at his side, aiding him as she ought.

She was not as rigid as Baxia, that fearsome child, who longed only, as her master did, for righteousness; she would not argue with her master the way Baxia did, quibbling over mundanities as if the human world were something that could be judged through the merits of a saber. But then Baxia had Nie Mingjue, whose soul was very near to a saber itself – unbending in its ferocity and clear in its simplicity – and Nie Mingjue listened to his saber in a way his father did not, too close and too compassionate, too forgiving of his inhuman partner’s flaws and too willing to take the time to convince when he ought to simply order.

Perhaps it was simply different for the two of them.

Baxia had roared to life with an ancient soul, a queen among sabers, and even Jiwei would not so easily choose to face her down, for all that she was more clever and more practiced, more thoughtful and more reserved, her power the greater, but her potential worse. Luckily it seemed unlikely to ever become an issue, what with Nie Mingjue earnestly trying to teach Baxia the meaning of being filial to one’s elders, as if age were at all relevant to a saber spirit.

Still, even if she were not Baxia, Jiwei had her own pride: she was still a saber, stubborn and inflexible, and so she said, Even Lan Qiren thinks you shouldn’t fuck him.

Jiwei rather begrudgingly liked Lan Qiren. She hadn’t at first, of course – not that she’d noticed him much when he was just a fellow cultivator her Master had taken a shine to, a teenager with a strange manner and his own pride, but later, when her only thought of him had been to wonder how he would dare attempt to interfere with her connection with her Master – but he was stubborn in his own way, obstinate, uncompromising, tenacious.

There was even unexpectedly some rage in him, buried deep beneath his rules and the scars left on his heart – not enough to do anything with it, the poor soul, but enough to show that he knew what it was. Jiwei had finally started condescending to give him a little of her time and attention, maybe a little of her rage that he always seemed to be seeking: at least he knew that he needed it.

Lan Qiren doesn’t want to fuck anyone, her Master said, fond as always. He, at least, would be more than happy to fuck Lan Qiren if the other man were interested. He doesn’t understand the appeal, so how can he really make a judgment on the matter?

Jiwei wasn’t sure that was how it worked – her Master respected Lan Qiren’s judgment on all sorts of things that Lan Qiren didn’t personally appreciate, and in all honesty she suspected that her Master was thinking with all the brain in the lower half of his body again – but she also didn’t actually care all that much.

Wen Ruohan hates Lan Qiren, she said instead, not for the first time that day.

Her Master frowned, as he did before. I don’t know what’s gotten into Hanhan over it. He even went and got Qiren drunk again, and I thought he swore never to be in his vicinity while drunk ever again, after last time.

Lan Qiren, when drunk, dropped all façade of caring about other people’s lack of interest in his favorite subjects, and also any reservations about using his strength and body to pin people into place – he’d held Wen Ruohan down by the arm, and ended up at one point in his lap to loudly insist that he pay attention because they were just getting to the interesting part, despite assurances by Wen Ruohan that it was not interesting, had never been interesting, and that he would shortly begin to bite off his own limbs in order to escape if it did not rapidly become more interesting.

Her Master had gone over at that point, nominally to assist but actually in order to enjoy having Lan Qiren on his own lap, and yet somehow that had only made Wen Ruohan’s expression worse.

Humans were so confusing.

Didn’t you tell Lan Qiren that you’d rescue him sooner if he got drunk again?

Her Master laughed, but he put down his drink and went: Lan Qiren had drunk four toasts, which was three and three-quarters more than he could tolerate, and he had cornered some poor sect leader and started in on some subject on musical cultivation that even Jiwei, who had no ears, could identify as being both esoteric and extremely boring.

Wen Ruohan caught her Master by the wrist before he got to Lan Qiren’s side.

“You should come spend some time with me, my friend,” he said, his eyes intent, purposeful, gaze as hot as the sun patterned on his clothing. “I have scarcely seen you this evening.”

Because you were too busy trying to get Lan Qiren drunk for some reason, Jiwei said scathingly, and her Master shushed her.

“The days in your Nightless City are long and the nights longer, A-Han,” her Master said, turning his hand to stroke two fingers along the underside of Wen Ruohan’s wrist – the other man released his hand, recoiling as if he’d been burnt; he had never grown accustomed to her Master’s shameless displays of affection. “There will still be time for us to spend time together.”

Wen Ruohan’s eyes narrowed. “But not now.”

“Not now,” her Master said agreeably. “I promised Qiren that I wouldn’t let him embarrass himself.”

“Someone else could do that.”

“They could, yes, but I’m the one that promised him.”

Wen Ruohan’s lips twisted. “You promise him many things. More than you should, with him the sect leader of another sect…”

“So are you, Hanhan,” the Master said. “And don’t I promise you the moon and the stars, if only I could fetch them down for you?”

The poetry of humans was truly insipid, in Jiwei’s view, and yet like all monsters Wen Ruohan both hated and loved the purity of her Master’s emotions, his heart offered on a platter without reservations.

It didn’t seem to be working this time, though.

“Go to him, then,” Wen Ruohan sneered, his jaw tight from where he was grinding his teeth together. “I trust you will tell me, then, when you finally decide to promise him that I will no longer be sharing your bed.”

I like him when he’s jealous, her Master remarked to her, and sometimes Jiwei thought her Master could be a very stupid man. He’s never more ferocious and passionate than he is when he thinks someone has taken something of his.

Never more dangerous, you mean. You always did like the ones that could and did want to kill you.

It adds some spice to life.

Life is not a food. It does not require spice.

You don’t eat, sweetheart; what do you know?

Jiwei considered this comment to fall into the same category as the one about Lan Qiren not knowing a bad idea just because he was sensible enough not to want to fuck it.

“Lan Qiren has no say in who I allow to share my bed,” he said, and stepped forward abruptly: Wen Ruohan, his senses as always tuned to the highest level of paranoia, instinctively stepped back, and so allowed her Master to corner him up against the wall, bringing their faces level and close to each other until their breath was shared. “Don’t think I didn’t see who was sending all those toasts to him, A-Han.”

“You object?” Wen Ruohan hissed, trying to pretend that he was unmoved by her Master’s nearness – as if anyone could miss the blood pounding through his veins, or the hardness beneath his clothing that her Master deliberately pressed his thigh against in a teasing gesture that made Wen Ruohan inhale sharply.

Wen Ruohan was too powerful, Jiwei thought; his wives treated him like a god, and his concubines like something even higher – he had never been treated so intimately, so recklessly and without care for whether or not he approved, and he was fascinated by it.

“Do you like him?” her Master asked, and Wen Ruohan’s eyes went wide in indignation. “The Lan sect breeds for beauty, and he’s got his fair share of it, even if he doesn’t think of it that way.”

“You cannot be serious.”

“There’s something appealing even in his very disinterest,” her Master mused, and Jiwei resigned herself to hearing this again. “He’s above such things, like a statue carved into the mountainside, untouchable and cold, the stone unyielding, and yet his flesh is as soft as any other man’s – it would give if you pressed on it. Turn red if you dug your fingers in, bruising like the skin of a ripe peach.”

Wen Ruohan’s throat worked as he swallowed.

“You like that sort of thing, don’t you? You like it when people are in pain…you like the rush of power it gives you. There are other ways of having power, A-Han.”

Her Master had thoroughly pinned Wen Ruohan against the wall now, even though the other sect leader’s cultivation was higher, his physical strength above their own. Their hips were slotted together, the two of them grinding up against each other, and Wen Ruohan’s mouth was a little agape, his lips and the tongue between them very red.

“There are,” he murmured, eying her Master as if he wanted to peel off his skin and devour him whole, put him in his belly where no one else would be able to reach him. “And this is his: that even now you will leave me and go to him instead.”

Her Master laughed.

“I need to take him to bed,” he murmured, words deliberately ambiguous, and Wen Ruohan jerked in his grasp – perhaps her Master was not so wrong in thinking that Wen Ruohan admired the coldly beautiful Lan Qiren more than he should. “Why don’t you help me?”

Wen Ruohan frowned, even as her Master stepped away. “Help you?”

“Take him to bed,” her Master said, and smiled as Wen Ruohan scowled at him. “It’ll be easier to carry him with two of us.”

Lan Qiren did not especially want to go with them, eager to continue his elaboration on whatever subject he was on now – actually a method for temporarily cutting off someone’s breathing using sound alone, not that anyone would be able to tell unless they had an excellent understanding of musical notation, esoteric cultivation techniques, and the human pulmonary system – although the sect leaders he had cornered were deeply grateful for the intervention. Still, Lan Qiren was a cultivator of song and thought, his strength respectable but nothing in comparison to martial cultivators like Jiwei’s Master or Wen Ruohan; they were easily able to drag him away despite his protests.

Her Master eased the way further by picking up another jar of wine and pouring it into Lan Qiren’s throat as they fought to get him up the stairs, the additional liquor finally acting to push him from wildness into quietude in a single step: he fell asleep at once, instantly becoming as limp as a fully cooked noodle and just as inconvenient.

“Do you have to deal with this every time?” Wen Ruohan complained.

Jiwei’s Master chuckled. “It helps to have experience,” he said, tapping the side of his nose. “Come, get his shoes off while I get the bed ready.”

“You treat me as if I were a common servant,” Wen Ruohan said disdainfully, although he did kneel and remove Lan Qiren’s shoes. Jiwei almost wondered at his willingness, given Wen Ruohan’s usual self-perception as a soon-to-be deity, or at least she did until he ran his fingers up Lan Qiren’s calf and even up to his inner thigh, his gaze firmly fixed on Jiwei’s Master as if in challenge – he was starting something, of course.

“You can’t make him jump when he’s like this,” her Master said, unmoved by the provocation. “He’s utterly insensate; he wouldn’t even notice if you put your hand on his dick.”

“Maybe I should,” Wen Ruohan said, the implicit challenge now outright.

“Maybe you should put it on mine instead,” her Master said. “There’s a second bed in the room.”

Jiwei did not have eyes, but she could enjoy the expression of shock on Wen Ruohan’s face through her Master’s perception of it.

“You’re not serious,” Wen Ruohan said. He did not sound repulsed by the idea – merely surprised that Jiwei’s Master had suggested it, and more than a little intrigued by it.

“I’ve gone night-hunting with him before,” her Master said. “He understands that men who are not him have needs that must be fulfilled; he’s told me before that he doesn’t mind me getting myself off near him, or even while thinking of him, as long as I don’t involve him.”

“You’re rather pushing the boundaries of that agreement, aren’t you?”

Jiwei’s Master had a smile full of teeth – his own type of shark, his own type of monster. “Don’t you like pushing boundaries the most, A-Han?”

It was things like this that drew a clear line between Jiwei’s Master and Baxia’s, Jiwei thought to herself, amused. In the ranking of things that were dear to her Master, his sect came first, and all else second, even family, friendship, or morality; Nie Mingjue, in contrast, would rank family first, morality second, and sect third, and would never take even minimal advantage of a friend, even when the gains were great and the downsides almost none.

Their power over Wen Ruohan was useful to the Nie sect, and pleasing to Jiwei’s Master on a personal basis; the power they drew out from their dual cultivation beneficial to both him and her – they did, in fact, engage in it on the second bed in the room, her Master’s voice rough against his Hanhan’s ear, spinning fantasy and filth at the same time, both their gazes fixed firmly on where Lan Qiren slept innocently on, detached in his disinterest and unlikely to object to anything other than the sheer impropriety of it even if he awoke.

Certainly that had been his reaction the last few times her Master had brought someone back to the single room at the inn that they had been sharing – not that Wen Ruohan needed to know that he wasn’t the first.

Do you intend to court them both? Jiwei asked, curious. It wasn’t the worst idea, even if she despaired at the thought of there being even more fucking instead of fighting: Lan Qiren’s coolness was a good counterbalance to Wen Ruohan’s heat, even if Wen Ruohan’s viciousness was more their speed than Lan Qiren’s level-headed contemplation and compassion. If he obtained them both, her Master could get the benefits of Lan Qiren’s company and conversation, which he truly enjoyed, and Wen Ruohan’s body and cleverness, and perhaps with two of them at his side Wen Ruohan would finally find himself content with what he had, able to stop his endless quest for more, more, more, the yawning pit of greed that lay beneath his arrogance and drove him to do increasingly terrible things.

Perhaps, if they’d let me, her Master replied. His mental voice was tight the way it always was when he dual cultivated with another cultivator, in the time before he reached release – he would be full of energy in the morning, excitable; their morning training together would be especially good for them both, strengthening them as they shared the qi between them. They’d be a force to be reckoned with, especially with me beside them…Qiren doesn’t like sex, but he’s never objected to romance, so it’s not hopeless. Hanhan could be taught to respect limits, and Qiren’s always been remarkably easy-going with those he considers his friends. It would be a good match. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?

You’ve always had eyes for things bigger than you can swallow, Jiwei said. She would roll her eyes if she had them. Well, good luck. Don’t let it be your funeral.

Don’t worry, her Master said, reckless as always. I won’t.

#mdzs #lan qiren #wen ruohan #sect leader nie #my fic #my fics #tedious joys #extras

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decysstuff · 2 years

Text

I asked myself the same question since I started watching this: Why am I so mesmerized by Demon Slayer? (SPOILERS AHEAD)

Kimetsu no Yaiba is just like any other fantasy universe anime I've seen so far—with the involvement of demons, inhumane skills, and the usual up and down arcs—yet somehow this one is so beautifully unique I can't wrap my head around it.

Firstly, you have the well-written plot. In all the animes I've seen the main character has to have some kind of goal or dream. We see all that with shows like MHA, Naruto, One piece etc etc. Each having the passion to achieve what they want for themselves but with Demon Slayer, it's absolutely void of that.

As a short introduction, we have the anime's protagonist, Tanjiro Kamado, who is a simple boy born in a poor family in a secluded country in old Japan and is the oldest of 6 siblings.

He knows about the rumours of man-eating demons—yes, man-eating demons—lurking in their world during the night but instead of the usual childish or brave nature of believing them, much less wanting to face / exterminate them like some wannabe hero, he simply shrugs it off and continues to do what he usually does: working hard to provide for his family.

And that's the intriguing part about the beginning! We see this boring yet lovable character who doesn't want anything for himself rather tries to help his mother and his siblings while he can since their father's passing. He's a gentleman just going through life for the betterment of those around him UNTIL he's finally given that darker goal. It's like having potatoes for dinner followed by a surprise dessert.

Returning from work—he sells coal, that's how poor they are—at sunrise, he comes home to his family massacred with the culprit gone. At that point, I admit, I began thinking, "Oh, so it's not different than the others. He sees his family dead, that drives him to join some demon hunting organisation in finding the killer and yada-yada-yada". BUT THEN!! Y'all ISTG, this is what made me love the whole thing. One of his sisters, Nezuko, is actually still alive, though barely.

He takes notice of this and desperately runs down a snowy mountain with her on his back and is constantly praying that he will reach help before it's too late.

And like one amazing twist after another, it's revealed that the reason she survived was because she was turned into a demon, which is evident after she tries attacking him midway.

He blocks her bites and claws until Giyuu, a 'Demon Slayer' finds them and tries beheading Nezuko to kill her.

Just when I thought I couldn't love this anime more than I already do, Tanjiro pleads with the demon slayer to spare his sister even when she was now lashing out with the intent to eat both of them like some rabid animal. Giyuu denies his sobs and Tanjiro goes as far as to challenge the skilled swordsman all for the sake of his last living family member, who, again, is now a man eating monster.

Eventually Tanjiro is knocked out and Nezuko manages to get out of Giyuu's grasp, lunges forward to her brother's body and to Giyuu's shock, instead of sinking her teeth into him, she legit kneels in front of him in a way that shows she's actually trying to protect him from the demon hunter.

Moments later Tanjiro then wakes up and cries tears of joy when he finds his sister beside him still on the snowy ground alive and with a bamboo now plastered on her mouth. From there, not only has Giyuu spared them but also helped Tanjiro in beginning his new life's mission: Finding the one who massacred his family as well as a cure for her sister, even though it is impossible to turn a demon back into a human.

See, what's amazing about that is the writer strayed away from the cliched path of writing our MC as a vengeful person who turns all 180 because of ~trauma~. The writer kept Tanjiro's initial trait of being gentle and caring throughout the entire story in such a way that the viewers are concerned when and if he's going to break at some point only to be reminded time and time again that he won't.

And that's where we arrive at the second beauty of DS: The characters, especially the chosen MC.

Demon Slayer's characters are one of the things that make the show fun to watch without ever feeling disgusted because none of them—like the ones in most animes—are absolute perverts nor is there any hint of sexualizing said characters in any way. Heck even Tengen, who has three wives, married them not for the sake of a harem but to give them a life with a purpose other than being an accessory.

That aside, there's our MC Tanjiro Kamado. This boy be making me question my standards for men.

Like I said in the beginning, he's an absolute gentleman. Kind, caring, compassionate, and by God is his empathy and perspective so high.

You'd think after finding out his family was killed by a demon he'd absolutely despise every single one of them, especially since he's just 14 at the start and we all know teens are mostly driven by their overwhelming emotions but no. Even knowing demons are absolute monsters who feast off of anyone in sight, it is always in his mind that they were also once human with families and emotions, just like his sister. He kills them, no shit, because really, would you let an immortal man-eating demon be rampant?

Absolutely not, it's them or the people. But Tanjiro feels for them, which is shown multiple times in every episode. They try to kill him, he gets angry too, but no matter how bad the demon is or how much rage is in him, Tanjiro doesn't have the heart to hate them. Well, except for Muzan and a couple of the moons but that's totally understandable.

He is respectful unless he has a good reason not to be. He doesn't hold grudges unless it's Muzan, and I can't forget how many times he blamed himself and apologise for situations that were inevitable at the moment and weren't even his fault to begin with, much less start at how many times he felt helpless but stayed strong and tried to make himself useful to the point where he was so close to death.

This. This is a great main character, right here. The side characters are also enjoyable of course. (My favourite is Shinobu, yes I know what happens to her, and no, I'm still not over it.) But Tanjiro as the MC is another reason why this show is awesome. It has an actual good role model!! And I thank Gotouge for that.

Lastly, we have the animation and the music.

Lord, I could just pass away.

Demon Slayer is written by Koyoharu Gotouge—who seems a lot like Tanjiro personality-wise based on his inserted manga doodles—and is animated by studio Ufotable which is shocking to me since I've seen their previous animations and was not impressed.

How they evolved to combining 3d and 2d with Demon Slayer, excluding Mugen Train, to perfection is beyond me. The contours of the art style alone are thick in both dimensions but the movements go from rough to smooth in perfect transitions that it's absolutely pleasing to the eye!!

How the colours are also set to complement and contrast the background is aesthetically unfathomable I could just stare at it all day.

The music? The soundtrack is amazing. Period. It captures traditional Japanese tones but has a slight mix of the modern era, one such example is 'Wisteria' and sometimes it can get tech-y like Zenitsu's theme, though like the animation, it blends perfectly with the strings. I just can't get enough of this masterpiece.

Thank you for sticking through the unnecessarily long rant ❤❤👋👋

#kimetsu no yaiba #kny #decy rants #god i love this show #maybe I'll do a take on AoT too #but that shit's too long #Thank the gods for Gotouge #I respect that man and his work #Haven't truly loved an anime this much since Violet Evergarden

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narrators-journal · 3 years

Text

Late night chats

Xeno was off relocating a satyr, so Senku was free to pad down the stairs of the home he shared with his mentor in his boxers, an old shirt, and socks. Besides, it was late, with a heavy, full moon in the dark sky, so even if his mentor was there, it wasn't likely that he'd be out of his room at such an hour. So, the leek-haired man wasn't expecting to come into the kitchen to rummage through the fridge for a late-night snack and find a familiar split-haired succubus sitting on the counter with his tails swaying lazily in the darkness.

For a moment, Senku didn't register the demon when he was revealed by the slice of pale light, but then he whipped his head around and stared at the succubus. "uh? Excuse me, what the fuck are you doing in my house?" The demon shrugged, "I wanted to see you again! After all, you're quite the interesting man, Senku-chan," That made the leek's cheeks turn toasty for a moment before he cleared his throat, "Have you not met an asexual hunter before? Or at all?" He asked, and Gen thought for a moment, then shrugged, "Not really, or...well, I haven't talked to many of the asexuals I've run into. As a sex demon, I tend to focus on feeding, and, as you've proven, I can't feed on those who have no sexual attraction to me, so" He hopped down from the counter to punctuate the statement, "But that's not why I'm interested in you. You intrigue me because you're the first hunter to have asked me about my biology, most just want to banish me." As he spoke, he sidled over to the hunter, coiling a tail around one of his arms and batting his blue eyes at the man.

However, Senku just watched him in the white light of the still-open fridge, gauging his intentions. I should just throw him out. It's super sketchy to have a SEX demon in my home so suddenly. He told himself, his crimson eyes watching the strong, white, tail around his arm squeeze the limb, kind of like how a girl would with a guy she likes, However, this could also be a chance to ask more questions and get more primary sourced answers.

For a moment, the monster hunter pondered the predicament. Then, after some thought, decided to take the risk, "Well, alright. I guess we can sit in the living room for a while and talk a bit more, but then you have to go. I don't want you sticking around while I sleep." Senku said, looking at Gen with a firm look that left him no room to argue his case, so instead, the succubus nodded and smiled brightly. So, Senku shut the fridge at last and led the succubus into the living room to sit on the pleather couch. "I'm gonna guess you want to ask about my species, again?" Gen hummed as he released Senku's arm and flopped onto the couch, watching the hunter nod and pouting in return, "Fine, but I want you to ask about me too. I'm more than a specimen," the succubus sniffed, Senku just snorting, "Alright, how old are you?" "I am about 25 years old," The leek plucked up a notebook and pen from a side table and began taking notes as Gen sat up properly with a chirp, "My turn! How old are you?" "I'll be turning 21 this year. Do you breed like humans do, or are sex demons only made through lustful souls? Matter of fact, how do you even create a sex demon?" He fixed his strawberry-colored eyes on the demon, who thought "I know I was born from two demons, so I guess that answers your first question. As for the second, I don't know, I haven't tried to impregnate anyone." he shrugged.

Senku continued to note down all of the answers he got while Gen watched and waved his tails while thinking up his next question, "Do you live here alone?~" The flirtatious tone in the demon's voice wasn't acknowledged as the man wrote, "No, I live here with my monster hunting mentor. He and my father are friends, and Byakuya thought me staying with Xeno would be the safest way for me to learn. Do you have any sensitive areas?" Senku looked up from his notes to see that Gen was staring at him, obviously wanting to question him, but he'd moved the conversation along too fast. So, he instead feigned bashfulness, "Oh, Senku-chan! How inappropriate, asking about my erroneous areas!" Senku swat at him while he giggled, "Just answer the question, you perv," "mmm, well, I don't want to." He decided, "I haven't been asked a single personal question before now, and suddenly you want me to divulge my secrets?" Senku grimaced, having forgotten that the demon wanted him to ask more about him as a person, Would asking about his family life be TOO personal? But asking about his favorite foods feels too easy... He spent a long moment humming and hawing, not liking the way Gen's dark blue eyes looked so hurt, "A-alright, what do you do as a hobby?" He finally asked, and the pain in his chest instantly went away when the demon's face lit up like a child's at Christmas, "I enjoy doing magic tricks! I love the confusion and astonishment it can cause!" he crowed, his tails wagging like a happy dog. So, Senku went into the kitchen and dug a deck of cards from one of the drawers. He then brought them to the demon, finding he enjoyed the wholesome smile they brought to the odd demon's face.

After that, the duo sat and Gen did card tricks for the hunter. Normally, the leek-haired man would've had no interest in the show, since he didn't believe in magic, but he found himself enjoying the challenge of debunking each trick with logic. In turn, the demon seemed to enjoy doing the tricks and explaining them to the curious hunter.

With that, the original question was forgotten, and, once he'd run out of tricks to show, Gen was free to move on to his turn. "I'm sorry if this seems rude, but how come someone as smart as you is training to be a monster hunter? Do you maybe have a fetish for inhuman creatures?~" Senku snorted at the implication, picking his notebook back up to continue his notes on his turn, "I'm only working as a monster hunter to save for college. I wanna work for NASA and build rockets, my only interest in monsters is figuring out what makes you tick." He punctuated the answer by jabbing the succubus in the arm, snickering as he feigned pain, "Do you have venom or anything? If so, is it some form of aphrodisiac?" He watched the demon stretch out on the dark pleather couch, thinking for a bit, "I don't think so? I've only really bitten someone during feeding, so I can't say if it would be an aphrodisiac or something else," he admitted with a shrug, and Senku wrote that down before thrusting his arm at the demon, "Try to bite me.” Sadly, the words had left his mouth before his brain could veto the plan. He had no real plan for if the succubus' potential venom did anything other than arousing him, he'd just wanted to experience the effects and determine whether or not he could feel it being injected, not just the effects.

Thankfully for him, Gen shook his head and pushed his arm back, "Sorry, Senku-chan, maybe another time," The leek nodded quickly, his face feeling hot and his stomach twisting under the threat of him upchucking. After that, he simply asked the demon more questions about himself, hoping to make up for the weird request until they both began to yawn and the hunter's thoughts felt too much like sand to formulate good questions.

At that point, he put his notebook aside and stood up, stretching with yet another yawn, "I think it's time for you to go, I'm gonna head to bed," he hummed, and the succubus nodded, getting up himself, "Can I come back some other time?" "So long as it's not at 3 am again, go for it, this was fun," The two smiled at one another at that, and said goodbye without too much more fanfare before splitting for bed.

#sengen #dr stone #drst #succubus!Gen #Monster hunter!Senku #au #monster au #scenario #senku ishigami #gen asagiri

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babybottlepop96 · 3 years

Text

Always: Shikamaru x Reader

Warnings: death, sadness, fluffy shit.

A/N: this one is about 2.2k words, it kinda got away from me lol enjoy and request!

Being Naruto Uzumaki's fraternal twin sister had its perks. I mean, the excessive amount of friends, ramen 24/7, always having a best friend that would be there for me and have my back no matter what but would also put me in my place if he had too. Being born five minutes after the infamous jinjuriki he was also so protective. Threatening any guy that would just have the nerve to flirt with me, the sister of the future Hokage.

We only had each other for so long, sure, our relationship took a bad turn for a while. While he was usually ignored and looked at as a monster, I didn't get the kind of treatment. Being the "normal" one of the twins, I was treated with more respect because I didn't have a tailed beast to host. I always felt awful for that and no matter how many times I stood up for my brother, he refused to accept my sympathy. The Chunin Exams came and went when he finally came to me after a few weeks of ignoring me. It was after Saskue had left and he was a mess. He cried into my shoulder and told me he was sorry. I just held him close and told him that I was never mad at him. I could never bead at him for how he felt about everything. It was unfair to him to be treated that badly, unfair that he had no say in being a host and I told him that he was so strong and had such a kind heart and people would eventually see that. I mean, they had to right? He was going to be the future Hokage.

When he left for those years with Jiryia, it was hard. It was like half of me was missing and I felt kind of lost without him. While he was out training, I had passed the Chunin and the Jonin exams. I was so proud of myself, but it would've felt even better if my twin was with me.

When he came home, I wasn't there to greet him. I was on business with the Kazekage. Gaara became a close friend, he accepted my friendship because he felt like he could trust me. He became like a little brother. And then everything happened with the Akatsuki and I ended up losing an arm trying to save a few children from a clay bomb. I laid in one of the beds while everyone was trying to get Gaara back and I felt like I failed. I was a fucking Jonin for kage sake and I couldn't protect or retrieve Gaara. It hit me hard.

When Temari, Sakura, Kakashi and Naruto arrived, they went straight to Kankauro. That poor boy was in such pain from the poison, it hurt my heart when I heard him scream from the extraction. I was so focused on not paying attention I hadn't realized Naruto had made his way over to me and held my left hand. Once I felt his hand touch mine, my eyes flew open and he had tears in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, (y/n)! I should've been here to protect you! I failed and I'm so sorry you got hurt." He his head dropped to the side of the bed and cried.

"Hey, hey it's okay Naruto. This shit happens you know that. And it is not your fault, okay? You had to go and train. This was just a mission that turned wrong. But you're here now! And I just know you're going to go after Gaara and bring him home. And I'll be rooting for your success.. believe it!" I smiled, small tear trails staining my own cheeks. He looked at me and gave a small smile.

After everything that happened at the sand and Gaara's return home, no longer a host for the one tail, things seemed to go somewhat better. I got a fake arm that works well with my chakra and I had been training non stop with all my friends. But I mostly spent time with one particular ninja the most. A cute, lazy Pineapple haired Nara. You see, Shikamaru and I had been close and dating for about a year at this point. We never particularly told anyone, but people seemed to know. Well, all except Naruto. He was so oblivious to it all, he didn't realize how close Shika and I were until Pein attacked the Hidden Leaf. So, that's where I'll begin this little tale.

~~~~~~~

"Shit shit shit!" I was running around trying to get civilians to safety, grabbing children and pushing other civilians towards the Hokage head mountain. A building was starting to crumble and fire and explosions were coming from everywhere it seemed. Once I felt like I got everyone I could I ran back to where the main event was happening. Thankfully Naruto wasn't here, I wouldn't even begin to imagine what they would do if they had captured him. I mean, they killed Gaara, but Lady Chio had that special secret jutsu that she took to the grave. I couldn't bear to lose my brother.

To fight was lasting so long, there was no way to tell when it would all be over. I was separated from Choji, Ino and Shikamaru when everything began. The three started fighting while I helped get the civilians to safety, but I knew they had to be around here. Alive. They just had to be. Things were seemingly going fine until I heard a small child scream. I snapped my head to the sound so fast I swore I got whiplash. A small girl was cowering against a wooden wall, the enemy heading toward her. I ran as fast as I could and snatched the girl away. I tossed her to the side gently and told her to run. She just looked at me, her big brown eyes filled with tears and a worried look on her face. "It's okay, you go to the mountains and find your family. Okay? Go!" She nodded and took off. I fought off the enemy for as long as I could. My chakra was running extremely low, so low that I wasn't able to dodge the wooden spear that came hurtling towards me. It went straight through my chest, pinning against the wooden wall behind me. I coughed up blood and my vision started to go a bit fuzzy.

"Your time is now over. You were a decent Shinoni, but you were still weak." The enemy spat out. I didn't say anything as I clutched the wooden spear that pinned me to the wall, trying to take in air. It felt like I was drowning, I could feel my lungs filling with blood and tears start to run down my face. I would never see my friends again, see my brothers happy go lucky smile while down bowl after bowl of ramen. I would never be able to Shika that I loved him. Everything was fading to black, my head dropped and my arms went limp by my side.

I woke up in a dark place, no longer in pain. I was dead. "Hello little one." A voice spoke and I looked around to see a small light. I ran towards it, hoping maybe I'd wake up for real and I was alive and well. That this was just a sick dream or a gentusu. But what I saw when I reached the light was unbelievable. I saw the fourth Hokage with a woman with red hair.

"Welcome, (y/n)." The woman came over to me and gave me a hug. "I'm your mom." She whispered in my ear and turned to the man. "And that's your dad." To say I was crying was an understatement. There was a river flow of salty tears streaming down my face as I hugged them both.

NARUTO'S POV

I ran back towards the village at full speed, I just had to get back. I had to protect my friends and mentors. I had to protect (y/n). I saw the massive crater when I returned to what was supposed to be my village. Injured and dead ninja and civilians alike were being gathered in a clearing. I ran ahead, I had to find them, I had to find everyone. I spotted Sakura first and ran towards her, "Sakura!" She turned her head, tears running down her face and I stopped in front of her. "Where is everyone?" She pointed to our group of friends, everyone is there except for Kakashi-Sensei and my sister. "S-Sakura? Where… where is Kakashi and (y/n)?" She sobbed louder which caused all of our friends to look over. I walked towards them and the moment I spotted Shikamaru on the ground holding someone, sobbing, I froze. I knelt down and looked over him. He was holding my sister, cradling her head in his lap. Her body was paler than normal against the red stain on her shirt. I didn't move, I didn't cry, I just stared, not convinced that she was actually gone. After a few moments I got up and made my way towards the true enemy.

"N-Naruto? Where are you going?" Sakura asked me, her voice meek and breaking.

"To end this."

SHIKAMARU'S POV

The enemy had retreated for a bit, allowing us to gather our injured and deceased. I was frantically looking for (y/n) I had to make sure she was okay. "(Y/n)!!" I heard Ino yell from behind me. I ran towards her voice as fast as I could. Once I reached her, my blood ran cold. There she was, the one that I truly cared about and loved, pinned against a wall, spear straight through the chest. I tentatively reached out and touched her and my instantly moved back as I felt her cold, stiff, lifeless body. I stood frozen. The rationalist inside me was gone and I then pulled the spear from her form and caught her in my arms and she limply fell. The cry that ripped from my throat was inhuman, angry and broken. I fell to the ground holding her close to my chest. "W-wake up, please!" I cried even harder knowing it was useless. She was already gone. Passed onto the afterlife while I was here to deal with the heartbreak. The pain. I knew this love thing was a drag, but I endured it for her. She made my days brighter, the sun burn hotter, she made everyday so much better.

"Sh-Shika? W-we should get her to the others." Ino whispered, scared her own voice would break, as she gently put a hand on my shoulder. All I could manage was a small nod and tried to suppress my cries. I carried her to where everyone was putting the deceased and all our friends stood there with wide eyes and I carried their closest friend in my arms. Everyone was shocked, too stunned to say anything as I put (y/n) on the ground. But I still cradle her head in my lap, I couldn't let her go just yet. The tears still slipping down my cheeks were enough for everyone to know this was real. When Naruto showed up I sobbed, he was just in shock as the rest of us. When he left to go confront the real Pein, none of us stopped him. If anyone could end this. He could.

YOUR POV

Talking to my parents had been the most calming time of my life. Well, afterlife. They told me stories about what it was like before they died, how Kakashi was like another son to him. How they never wanted Naruto to host the nine tails. I told them how life was growing up, how I was dating Shikamaru and my dad gave me a whole lecture on safe sex, even though I was dead and I wouldn't have to worry about any of that. Well, until I started to glow. "Looks like you still have a full life to live my sweet." My mother smiled and I looked at them with a smile and tears in my eyes.

"I love you both." I said as I faded back into the darkness. This time though, when I opened my eyes I saw a face I never thought I'd be able to see again. "Shika?" His eyes snapped open and he stared down at me, his eyes wide and mouth open. He stared at me for a moment, not believing what he was seeing. His dead girlfriend, breathing. Alive.he held me so close to his chest and sobbed even louder. Ino and Choji were all giving him sad looks until they saw my arms wrap around his neck and held him closer.

"OH SHIT!" Choji yelled as the other dead bodies were coming back from death. I sat up slowly and grabbed Shikamaru's face and kissed him. I kissed him like it would be the last time I ever would.

"I… I thought I lost you for good this time." He spoke softly.

"I will always come back for you." I smiled at him, tear glazed eyes staring into his own. "Always." We kissed again, pulling each other close. We stayed like that for a moment until we heard a certain obnoxious blonde yelling at us.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING?! SHIKAMARU THAT'S MY SISTER! WHEN THE HELL DID THIS HAPPEN?!" Causing everyone to let out a laugh. Resting his forehead on mine Shikamaru spoke quietly. "I love you."

"I love you too, Shika. I love you too."

#shikamaru nara x reader #naruto #choji akimichi #sakura #ino #fluff fluff fluff #death #sad

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hamliet · 3 years

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Hello. Just finished Demons and it was an emotional rollercoaster for me. Why do you think Stavroghin wrote to Daria if he intended to kill himself? Do you think he changed his mind and couldn’t stand his guilt anymore?

(Also, is it just me or was Peter a tiny bit too infatuarea with Stavroghin?...)

He reminds me a bit of Chrollo from HxH in a way. He feels so empty and incapable of understanding himself and I guess this is exactly what draws others to them.

Ahhh yay! Crazy, right?

First of all, it's not just you re: Pyotr and Stavrogin. Pyotr's words literally mimic love confessions. Whether or not that was intended as romantic or just to show how obsessed Pyotr is can't be said, but intention aside, it's a fair reading of the text.

You're right though in that Stavrogin's central trait is emptiness. He is desperate to feel something, anything at all, and commits the worst atrocities in an attempt to feel. He is so empty people are able to project whatever they want to believe onto him; hence why he makes a perfect figurehead. Supposedly. I'd actually argue Chrollo, at least, genuinely cares for people even if he pretends he does not; I don't know that Stavrogin does. Stavrogin is an antichrist archetype, more akin to Johan Liebert of Monster, imo.

I think Stavrogin wrote to Dasha for a similar reason: Dasha is the only one who seems to know him as he is and still loves him. He even directly states that Dasha is the only one he can be honest with. Varvara projects the image of the perfect son, Liza of a lover, Pyotr of a revolutionary--he is what they want him to be. Dasha seems to have a far better understanding of who Stavrogin actually is. She knows he is married, for example.

Whether or not Dasha and Stavrogin actually had/were having a sexual affair isn't clear (deliberately unclear, most likely). Given Dostoyevsky's tendency to explore the "hooker with a heart of gold" stock character in various ways (played straight but with depth, like Crime and Punishment's Sonia Marmaladova, played as a projection like Liza in Notes from Underground, or deconstructed in a tragic sense like The Idiot's Nastasya or in a redemptive sense like The Brother's Karamazov's Grushenka) it's likely that Dasha is another exploration of that sort of character, just as Stavrogin is an exploration of the same archetype as C&P's Svidrigailov, The Idiot's Totsky, and TBK's Fyodor Karamazov.

Anyways, whether Dasha actually was sleeping with him or not is beside the point; many assume she is. Dasha is pure and kind, compassionate and good, but Stavrogin still cannot reveal his worst sin to her (Matryosha).

“I’ve told you a great deal of my life, but not all. Even to you! Not all.... Better not come to me. My asking you to is a horrible meanness. And why should you bury your life with me? You are dear to me, and when I was miserable it was good to be beside you; only with you I could speak of myself aloud. But that proves nothing. You defined it yourself, ‘a nurse’—it’s your own expression; why sacrifice so much? Grasp this, too, that I have no pity for you since I ask you, and no respect for you since I reckon on you. And yet I ask you and I reckon on you."

His final act of suicide was twofold, paradoxical, just as he expresses in the letter. First, it was to hurt Dasha as much as it was despair over his lack of ability to feel any guilt at all. By trying to hurt Dasha, he was trying to sever that one link he had. At the same time, the fact that he wanted to sever that link shows that he was human even if he did not feel so.

Stavrogin is one of Dos's most complex and still most detestable characters--and most disturbing, honestly, because he is so inhuman, capable of the worst sorts of grotesque evil, and human at the same time.

#ask hamliet #dostoyevsky's demons #nikolai stavrogin #dasha shatova #demons

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xhanisai · 4 years

Note

More of ghost blanc AU PLZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Aightyo~! Here’s a little drabble I’ve concocted up on the spot!

~(x)~

“You’re him...aren’t you?” Marinette addressed the white figure with as much courage and bravery as she could possibly muster, clutching her purse with a white-knuckled grip. “I’ve had my suspicions for a while...but now I know...it’s you.”

She didn’t dare to move a muscle, the darkness and quiet of the hallway in the school created an eerie atmosphere. In the beginning, it would have frightened the French-Chinese girl without a doubt; she understood the presence better now.

“...and who am I, Marinette?” His voice was soft and full of melancholy despite the smile that was plastered on his face, pale feline ears drooping.

“You’re Chat Noir...my Chaton...from that timeline, right?” Marinette took a small step forward, brows furrowed and sapphire eyes full of worry. “All this time...you’ve helped me in the shadows...saving me from that car accident...pushing me off that building so that I didn’t get shot...always there for me...”

Chat Blanc didn’t say anything, merely watching the girl as his body solidified more yet maintaining the ethereal look that made him seem inhuman.

“I thought I saved you...” Tears were starting to pool in her eyes and her hands reached up to cup his cheeks, hesitating to make physical contact, hovering a breath away from his skin.

“My love for you is very strong, My Lady. Not even time would stop me from aiding you,” Blanc attempted to grasp her wrists so that her hands could rest on his cheeks only for his flesh to pass through hers and it was then that the excruciating sadness in his heart mourned once more.

Marinette couldn’t stop the wet gasp that escaped her, bringing her hands back to herself and eyeing the slender digits in horror.

“Maybe...this is my punishment for what I did to you, everyone and the world.” Chat Blanc laughed brokenly, stepping away from the girl. “I’m a monster.”

“No! No you’re not! That’s not fair on you at all! You were akumatised! If anything, it was Le Papillon’s fault...it was my fault! I couldn’t help you-”

“Don’t be stupid.” His sharp tone halted her spiralling, a dangerous glint in his eyes taking her breath away. “All you ever did was make me happy...and love me! The memories that we made together was what helped me fight back the cold, lonely insanity that tried to corrupt me during my solitude in the empty world.”

“Chat Noir...”

“It’s Chat Blanc, Marinette.” Even though his body would simply phase through hers, Blanc attempted to wipe away her tears with a finger.

“How do I save you?” Marinette’s words were no more than a breath, begging for him to be free.

“You can’t.”

“I have to...I must!”

“This is beyond your power, My Lady, Ma Princesse...” With a warm smile, an expression that mirrored her partner in black and...another boy with green eyes, Blanc brought his face towards her and brushed his lips against hers.

For a split second, she felt his lips, a human warmth, a sweet softness, only for his body to fade away for now and appear when she least expected him to.

The designer immediately sank to her knees, pressing her fingers against her lips as tears rolled down her cheeks with much more vigour and before she knew it, she broke down.

‘I failed him...I failed my Chaton again!’ Was what ricocheted in her mind like a mantra despite her little kwami’s pleas and support.

So deep into her misery, she was deaf to a familiar boy’s cries of her name and it was only when he brought her into his arms did she finally come back to the world.

“Marinette! Oh God...Marinette...” Before she knew it, Adrien brought her into a tight embrace with an iron hold, his tan fingers knotting themselves into her hair as he breathed out how relieved he was to see her again.

“A...Adrien?” Marinette rasped, still limp in his arms, too numb to move or even treasure his warmth.

“I thought he took you away...like he threatened to do so.” The blonde teen whispered with anguish, tightening his grip on her. “No matter what I did, no matter how hard I try to keep you close, he comes closer to you!” He pulled back a little so that he could see her confused face, brushing away her fringe with a look of desperation.

“Who?” Marinette suddenly dreaded his answer.

“Listen to me Marinette, please, please, stay away from that Chat Blanc! If you see him again, come to me or Chat Noir. We have to...we WILL protect you!” The shivers on her spine started to send cold sweat down her forehead.

“What’s going on Adrien...? I thought he was just a lost spirit, finding his way?”

“Is that what he told you?”

It was then that Marinette realised she’s never asked him nor did Blanc tell her why he was here. She didn’t want to doubt him...he was her Minou for crying out loud!

“Marinette. Once upon a time, he was m- Chat Noir! But now? Now he’s not. He’s an echo of destruction...something that should NOT exist. And he wants you. I don’t know why but he won’t stop until he has you! Do you understand? You need to stay away from him!”

Adrien’s eyes showed emotions beyond desperation. His teeth clenched with determination...determination to keep her safe. His relentless hold on her never budging- as if he feared that letting her go would mean she’d leave him forever.

He reminded her of Chat Noir and at the same time, the one who called himself Chat Blanc...

“Adrien, do you trust me?” Her question shook him off guard. Adrien pursed his lips in confusion, furrowing his brows. The expression smoothed away when he spotted the fire in her eyes.

“With my life and everything.”

“Then help me help him. Please.”

~(x)~

That’s all for now! Who knows~? Is Ghost Blanc a hero or a villain~? Might develop this AU or make it into a short oneshot one day UwU If you want that is~

#my asks #ghost blanc au #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #my aus #my au #my writing #my fanfiction #ml fanfiction #ml fanfic #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #chat noir #chat blanc #mariblanc #adrinette #adrienette

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shirtlesssammy · 3 years

Text

1x20: Dead Man's Blood

Guys! We really wanted to save this VERY SPECIAL episode until the end, but it’s just SO special we couldn’t wait. It’s the episode that all mythology of the show balances on --John being a deadbeat on his own hunts, JENNY!!, and vampires (aka, the one thing Dean can’t kill and also something this family has never run into before so, you know, John could HAVE never described masked ones in his journal)

Fun fact: Jenny isn’t actually named in this episode (because woman don’t matter enough to name, silly!) Giving this character a name is the slowest burn storyline this entire show had!

Then:

John Winchester: Father of the Decade

Now:

Manning, Colorado

Mr. Elkins sits at a bar, pouring over his hunter journal. Some rowdy newcomers appear.

Mr. Elkins takes off for home --a run down cabin in the woods. One of the bar newcomers is waiting for him. Her eyes flash and he throws a knife into her torso. She pulls it out without issue and chases him. He runs to his safe and pulls out the Colt (do we know about the Colt yet? Whatever, spoiler!) but it’s too late, he’s attacked by a couple of other dudes that fly in from the ceiling. Dinner time for the monsters!

At a diner, Dean suggests they head east to find Sarah Blake again.

Sam dismisses such foolishness (because the idea of Sam ending up happy with a woman that we know and like is pure nonsense!!) and mentions the death of Daniel Elkins. Dean remembers that name from John’s journal. ‘

The brothers head to Colorado and check out Elkins’ home. Dean finds Elkins’ journal.

They also find the place torn apart --and weird scratches on the floor. Dean takes a rubbing and realizes that it’s a message for a post box. They head there next and find a note for ‘JW’ in the box.

Before they can open the letter, good ol’ John Winchester appears. He tells them that he saw them at Daniel’s place. Sam asks why he didn’t come in. “You know why. Because I had to make sure you weren't followed.” LISTEN, asshole, these two brothers are doing JUST FINE without you.

John tells the boys that he knew Daniel, but they had a falling out (Jesus, who didn’t you fight with back in the day, John?) John reads Daniel’s letter to him.

John asks if they saw a gun at Elkins’ place. Nope. John rushes out insistent on catching the things that killed Elkins. Sam and Dean ask what they are.

Vampires!

Sam and Dean are shocked that they’re real. John goes over the lore for this show.

We watch the vamps hunt for dinner. A couple is stopped by a body in the road, and while the dude goes to check it out, the woman calls 911. The dude doesn’t last long (and the lady probably doesn’t either.)

John hears the news on the police scanner. Without explanation, he tells his sons to follow him to find the vamps. John confirms that they’re on the right trail for the vampires but Sam wants proof.

He found a fang. They head out --but not before John gets a dig into Dean about how he takes care of his car.

While driving, Sam and Dean break down their mutual feelings about having John back. Dean’s the little soldier and Sam is not. (And Sam is driving, like Dean can’t even be in control and drive the car he loves so much because he can’t truly handle his father’s overbearing abuse?)

At an abandoned barn, the vamps party it up while the couple stay tied up and freaking out about their fate. Then the Keifer Sutherland of the group arrives, giving them permission to feed on the dude.

Kate tells Luther about Daniel Elkins, and he gets upset. More people will track them now. He then sees the Colt. “This is no ordinary gun.”

On the road, Dean tells Sam to pull over because John said so. Sam gets pissy and has a little drag race with pops. And that’s the last time Sam ever drove the Impala. Sam gets in John’s grill about the gun and what they’re doing.

Dean tries to play peacemaker, but it is REALLY TOUGH with these two. John accuses Sam of leaving. Sam accuses John of shutting him out. Dean just wants a HAPPY FAMILY.

Kate and Luther attack the lone surviving victim, Jenny, feeding her Kate’s blood. Somebody wrote on Tumblr recently about this scene and I had blocked it out. Pretty sure I’ve only seen this episode a few times and BELIEVE IT OR NOT Jenny’s fate just did not stick with me. I’d forgotten how highly sexualized they’d made this vampire scene, and then gone further and draped it in assault. Jenny “dies” terrified, victim of one of the few same-sex kisses (on screen) in this entire damn show. Excuse me while I stomp around for a while rending my hair and hurling curses!

Later outside the vampires’ lair, the Winchesters surveil the place. Vamps CAN walk in the sunshine and they do NOT sparkle. John reveals his intricate plan: just...walk into the barn while they’re asleep.

For Still Beautiful, Still Dean Winchester Science:

John fills them in FINALLY on the Colt. Samuel Colt made a gun on the same night as the Battle of the Alamo. Sorry. Just. This is such a random story detail that has literally nothing to do with the Colt? Anyway, Colt made the gun for a hunter and gave him thirteen bullets. The hunter disappeared with only half the bullets used up because the FIRST RULE of the elder wand - I mean, the Colt - is never to brag about the Colt, probably.

The kicker is that the Colt can purportedly kill anything! Like bigfoot! Or God! Or the legendary, rumored-to-be-extinct vampire! (Or, sure, the demon that killed Mary Winchester.) John is hinging their demon-killing success on getting the Colt. The potential vampire killing is just blood-red icing on the cake.

In the barn, John creeps up slowly on the sleeping Kate and Luther, eyes set on the Colt dangling on their bedpost. Meanwhile, Sam and Dean stop their search for the Colt when they realize that there are people trapped for food in the barn. (Good beans!) They work to set them free when Jenny wakes up. She immediately lets out an inhuman roar as soon as she sees Sam.

Luther wakes up and chucks John across the room. He shouts for them to split, and the Winchesters flee. “Once a vampire gets your scent, it’s for life,” John explains. [insert Benny/Dean joke here]

While Dean’s raiding a funeral home, John “bonds” with Sam in the motel. He reveals that he put $100 in a college fund for Sam and Dean when they were born. He did that up until Mary died, and then he shifted his focus to raising his boys to be soldiers. (So literally just $100 for Sam’s account, then.) “Somewhere along the line I stopped being your father.” NO SHIT, JOHN.

Sam tells John that he used to think they were different, but after Jess died he’s wholly in the fight. They bond over their twin quests for revenge and when John reveals that he spent his boys’ college funds on ammunition, Sam laughs. What a Hallmark moment! Dean returns with dead man’s blood, and they get to work.

That night, Dean gets dangled out as bait: the dude-in-distress bending over a “broken-down” Impala. I just. Can’t even. With this show.

Kate finds him and they trade witty banter. She also kisses him which…. Excuse me, I’m going to stare into the middle distance for a while, grinding my teeth.

Arrows thwack into the vampires’ chests just in time, I guess? The dead-man’s-blood soaked arrows start to leach into their system, slowing them down. The Winchesters capture Kate, and kill the second vampire.

Sam confronts John about his plan to get the Colt and then scuttle away from his sons again. “You can’t treat us like this. Like children.”

“That’s crap,” Dean calls out John. “You know what Sammy and I have been hunting. Hell, you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself. You can’t be that worried about keeping us safe.” John’s got to do the hunt ALONE! It’s the only way!

Back with the vamp family, Luther learns about the hunters who’ve captured Kate (and severed their first head).

Luther zeroes in on John’s truck, tearing down the highway. He can tell that Kate’s inside it. And sure enough, Kate starts to wake up next to John. The vamp squad pursues the truck.

At the barn, Sam and Dean break in to confront the lone, possibly drunk vampire. It’s time to go antiquing! ALSO Dean Winchester breaks out the blood prisoners. “I told you I’d come back!” Readers, I love him.

With the vamps, John demands a trade: the Colt for Kate. He almost gets the Colt, but Kate overpowers him, knocking him out. It looks like the end for John Winchester EXCEPT an arrow thwacks into a vampire out of nowhere. Cue triumphant music, for it’s Sam and Dean Winchester to the rescue! Sam gets captured in the fight, and John blows one of the Colt’s precious bullets right into Luther’s forehead. The vampire dies in slow motion dramatic glorious fashion.

Jenny takes off to - APPARENTLY - live on in infamy on the back end of the show. John tells his kids that they are, in fact, stronger as a family. It’s time to hunt the demon together! Aw, bonding time!

Buffy the Vampquote Slayer:

Vampires? I thought there was no such thing

Revenge isn't worth much if you end up dead

We’re stronger as a family

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #JENNY #spn 1x20 #dean man's blood #supernatural season 1

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lesdemonium · 4 years

Text

romtober day 8: love breaking a curse

Rating: T Ship: Geraskier Word Count: 2696 Summary: Geralt receives a contract to take care of a creature haunting the castle overlooking a village. Geralt decides he might be able to save the creature instead.

AN: ok i'm gonna warn y'all before you start--i make no fucking effort to wrap this up. this is basically 3kish words of an idea for a longfic, which has been rattling around inside my brain and hopefully will get written eventually. but if i get any angry messages about the curse not getting broken or me leaving this without any sort of resolution, i will give you sassy responses. your expectations should now have been adjusted accordingly!

if you like this idea and would like to eventually see a resolution, lmk! i find it fun and would love to get back to it, if there's an interest.

read on ao3

The castle was freezing. Geralt had barely stepped past the threshold before he could see his breath fogging out before him. Outside, it had been a spring morning, on the cooler side, but still held a hint of warmth. Inside, the air felt harsh against his skin, cold enough to cause pinpricks of pain.

It was dark and dusty. Cobwebs covered everything and the furniture and paintings showed a level of degradation Geralt wasn’t expecting. The castle hadn’t been deserted for long, maybe a few decades at most, and yet it looked as if it had been abandoned centuries ago. The cold, the rot, the stillness of the air, the overwhelming feeling of decay, it left Geralt feeling as if he’d never be warm again. This place reeked of sadness.

As he stepped inside and carefully closed the door behind him, he heard something shift in one of the rooms beyond what he could see. There had been reports of a specter, of a monster, of a something haunting the deserted castle, and the forests around. The villagers were scared to go near it. They were convinced if they drew too close, they would die an unspeakable death. Better to have a Witcher go and take care of the problem for them.

Geralt followed the sound, though he was unsure if it was the creature or just an animal that had looked for warmth. He dispelled that thought, however--it was so much colder inside than beyond the castle walls, he was certain no animal in its right mind would seek out this place for protection from the elements. Something shifted again, and a cracking sound echoed through the halls. Geralt pulled out his silver sword and stepped carefully, silently.

He came to a large, open room, with wide windows, many of which were shattered. A ballroom, maybe. Once, it might have been grand, but now it was just as destroyed as the rest of the castle. Geralt edged a foot forward, crossing the threshold.

A voice, high and inhuman, hissed its way through the air. “Go away,” it said, and Geralt whipped his head around to find the source.

There, in the corner, he saw it. What, exactly, he was seeing, Geralt wasn’t entirely sure. The figure was humanoid, almost, but much taller than the average human with long limbs and sharp angles. The skin was partially translucent, like glass, but splattered with hundreds of flecks of black and dark gray and brown to muddy its appearance. It stretched as tall as it could, its arms and legs lengthened to make it appear more imposing than it actually was, and if Geralt was human, he was sure he would cower at this icy creature that was easily ten, twelve feet tall.

Geralt was not human, however. And despite the way the creature attempted to make itself look like a threat, Geralt noticed the way it remained bent in on itself, and as far from Geralt as he could get.

“What are you?” Geralt asked, pulling himself fully into the room.

A scream rung out in the room, high and hissing like the voice had been, and Geralt had to brace himself against the wall to keep from being flung. The windows rattled and Geralt heard one high above shatter, only to rain down on the creature. It did not react. Instead, it seemed to close in on itself more.

“Go away,” the creature insisted again, but now the voice sounded more human, and far more sad than Geralt was expecting. A man’s voice.

“I’m a Witcher,” Geralt said. He returned his sword to his scabbard, then held his hands out in front of him, palms facing the creature to show he meant no harm. “I was hired to investigate this castle, rid it of whatever was haunting it. But I think you mean them no harm.”

“Go away,” the creature repeated. He sounded desperate now, and Geralt saw the way he pressed up against the wall behind him, like he was trying to get away from Geralt. Geralt stopped.

“I can help you.”

“No one can help me,” the creature answered. Ah. So he could say more.

“I could try.” Geralt looked around. “Is this your home?”

“It was.”

“What happened to it?”

The creature was silent for a long time. Then, the room erupted into color, and light, and warmth. The debris littering the floor was gone, and it revealed a beautiful marble floor, so clean and shiny Geralt was sure he could see his face reflected in it. He was right, the room had been grand, with the large windows letting in so much light. Geralt started when a body moved through him--a specter, a visual trick the creature was creating just for him. Couples danced, and now Geralt could just barely hear the music, and the far-off sound of voices and laughter.

“A witch,” the creature said, and it felt as if the voice was in his head.

Geralt saw her now. She was beautiful, in a floor length gown and a deep purple cloak that flowed around it. The witch stepped up to a man, young and beautiful and dressed in finery, who held out his hand. She accepted, and they joined the other couples dancing.

Just as quickly as the couple appeared, they faded into nothingness, and Geralt watched as the entire illusion faded into the disrepair it was now. The creature slumped, all of his energy gone.

“Were you the man?” Geralt asked.

“I was,” the creature answered.

“What’s your name?” Gerlt asked.

“Go away.”

“What’s your name?” Geralt asked again.

“Go away!” the creature insisted, his voice taking on the hissing, harsh, inhuman quality again.

“I want to help you.”

“No one can help me!” Now the creature stood up again, and Geralt tried to brace himself again for the scream, but it was louder this time, more powerful. Furniture moved across the floor, and the wind whipped around him, picking up in intensity as it carried off the creature’s final “Go away!”

Geralt barely registered escaping, but he found himself outside the castle and wind slammed the giant door shut behind him.

The next day, Geralt wore the furs he had unpacked from Roach’s saddlebag. She was safely stabled in the village, and Geralt left her with the stablehand and thorough instructions.

Getting to the castle was no easier the second time as it was the first. It was perched high on a mountain, surrounded by large, tall, thick trees. It made little sense--surely there would be an easier way to travel between the castle and the village, as this castle would have presided over the village. Perhaps the creature had a hand in making it inaccessible.

Impossibly, the castle was colder when Geralt finally pushed his way inside. The door had been blocked off with debris, the creature clearly thinking that a little effort and a thick tree branch were enough to deter Geralt from his mission. They were not. Geralt was made of far sturdier stuff than that.

Geralt had barely cleared the doorway when he heard that hissing voice again.

“Go away!”

“No,” Geralt answered. He planted his feet, sure that another display of the creature’s power was coming, but after a few moments, Geralt still only heard silence. He made his way back to the ballroom.

The creature was not there.

He searched the surrounding rooms, but there was no sight of him. There were about a hundred more rooms in the castle that he could have searched through, but Geralt had a feeling even if he did, the creature would be one step ahead of him.

“You could make this easier on both of us and just show yourself,” Geralt said.

The creature’s only answer was a quick burst of wind that blew leaves into Geralt’s hair.

“Have it your way,” he answered.

Geralt made his way back to the ballroom. This was where he set up his supplies. He had planned for an extended stay this time, complete with rations, extra bedding, and even a tent in case his host was feeling like manipulating the weather. By the time he was finished, he caught a flickering in the corner of his eye, and turned to look.

The creature was now in the corner, right where he had been the day before, and whatever magic he had used to make himself invisible was wearing out. Or he was choosing to allow Geralt to see him.

Satisfied, Geralt sat himself upon his bedroom, his legs crossed, and faced the creature. For a long moment, they just stared at each other.

“Why are you still here?” Geralt asked.

“It’s my home.” The creature sounded offended, but at least his voice was human.

“Are you stuck here?”

The creature didn’t answer, but the wind blew another clump of leaves at Geralt’s face.

“What’s your name?” Geralt asked, to help squash the grin growing on his face.

“Jaskier.”

Geralt hummed. “That’s a bad name for an ice monster.”

This time, when the leaves hit his face, he didn’t bother hiding his grin.

“What are you?” Geralt asked.

“Shouldn’t you know that, Witcher?”

“I’ve never seen anything like you,” Geralt answered, figuring honesty was probably what was needed here to get the creature--Jaskier--on his side. “And you didn’t tell me much about how you came to be.”

The wind swirled in the room, and Geralt watched the leaves spin in circles as Jaskier, presunably, mulled this over. At least they weren’t flying toward his face this time.

“Cursed,” Jaskier finally answered.

“By the witch?”

“Yes. Marikka.”

Geralt hummed. “You knew her. Why did she curse you?”

Behind him, a door slammed. Geralt turned to look at it, and saw it swaying open again, apparently broken. He hadn’t even felt the wind, but when he looked back to Jaskier, he could just barely see the pinched expression on his face. It was hard, from this distance, but the message was clear. Back off.

Geralt wouldn’t.

“How am I supposed to help you if you don’t give me any information?” Geralt asked, rolling his eyes.

The door slammed again, and this time Geralt didn’t look. Over and over, it banged against the threshold, but as it went on, the less pointed it seemed. The wind kicked up around him, swirling the leaves and debris and creating little tornados. Jaskier didn’t scream, but it was a near thing. Geralt felt the anguish there.

“I can’t help you unless you help me,” Geralt said, standing up. He held his hands out again, and tried to inch closer to Jaskier. “I can’t break this curse if I don’t know what it is.”

“Then don’t!” Jaskier screamed back, sounding more like a wraith than he had yet. Geralt kept moving closer, even as the wind picked up, his steps slow and steady. This time, he’d make it to Jaskier. He knew he would.

That was his last thought before Jaskier sent a burst of wind directly at him. So strong Geralt flew off the ground, and right into a marble pillar. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

When Geralt woke, he was in another room entirely.

The bed he was in wasn’t destroyed, exactly, but it certainly showed its wear and tear. Cloth just didn’t last that long, and as a result the canopy above him was in tatters, and the blanket over him didn’t hold in the warmth as much as his furs had. Still, he noted the effort that Jaskier--it had to be Jaskier--put in, even if Geralt was shivering from the moment he woke up.

“Jaskier?” he called, as he sat up.

There was no response, and Jaskier wasn’t in the room. Geralt stood and--checking to make sure there were no damages, or that he was healed of any that had been there--made his way back to the ballroom. When he got to the door, it wouldn’t budge.

“Jaskier, I know you’re doing this,” Geralt said patiently. “Let me in.”

“No. Go away.” Jaskier still sounded as if he was in the same room, rather than behind the ornate door.

“That hasn’t worked every other time you said it, and it won’t work this time.” Geralt pushed on the door again, and it budged, but swiftly closed again, knocking Geralt back. “Please don’t launch me again.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier said, and he did sound remorseful. Miserable, even. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know you didn’t,” Geralt answered. “You were in pain. I knew you were lashing out, and I still got too close. I forgive you.”

There was a long silence, and when Geralt tried the door again, it gave way. The room was even more destroyed. Broken glass was everywhere, and while he was out, the chandelier had given way. It now lay destroyed in the center of the room.

“Jaskier, what happened?” Geralt asked, turning to face Jaskier, back in his place on the far side of the room. As always.

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier repeated, sounding no less miserable than he had before.

“So this… was you?” Jaskier didn’t answer, but Geralt took it as an admission. “Because you were upset? Guilty?”

“For hurting you,” Jaskier agreed.

“I’m fine, Jaskier. I heal. I’ve gotten worse injuries than a smack to the head.” He bent to pick up one of his own belongings, which were now strewn about the room. “I’m going to set up my camp again. I won’t approach you, but I might have to get closer.”

The wind kicked up again, but only strong enough to blow some of his belongings closer to Geralt. Geralt smiled, then set himself on the task of setting up camp again. By the time he was finished, the sun that had been shining through the windows had grown low in the sky. Geralt had a feeling, with his long healing rest, that he wasn’t going to sleep much today.

“You can leave this room,” Geralt said. It was as much a statement as a question. He was pretty sure Jaskier didn’t use wind to carry him the whole way upstairs, into the bed, and under the covers. He didn’t seem strong enough, except when he was upset. That meant he had to have carried Geralt. “Why don’t you?”

“I like it,” Jaskier answered.

There was a pause, then slowly the room started to change back into that magnificent vision Jaskier had given him before. Jaskier, it seemed, remembered this room in sunlight and warmth, despite the growing darkness outside and the ever-present cold. This time, the room was empty of people, aside from a small boy playing a piano. His melody was rough, clearly he was still learning, but as the song went on, he grew better. He grew older.

Soon, Geralt was looking at the boy turned young man. Jaskier, it had to be. Jaskier wasn’t dressed in his finery this time; instead he wore a pair of trousers and a loose-fitting shirt, unbuttoned far below what Geralt was sure was appropriate. The music he played was beautiful and had a great deal of character and humor pressed into it. He had never heard this song before.

“You like music,” Geralt said.

The image before him changed rapidly. Images of Jaskier playing a piano, images of Jaskier dancing, playing a lute, singing, writing. They went too fast for Geralt to get a good look at anything, but he knew this was a correction. Jaskier didn’t like music, Jaskier loved music.

“How long have you been here?” Geralt asked.

The image of Jaskier changed. It was horrific, Jaskier’s take on his transformation. The memory-Jaskier’s body twisted and cracked in unnatural, painful ways, sharp edges breaking out of his skin and enveloping him in ice. His mouth opened in a silent scream as his legs and arms grew long, long, longer, until he was the creature Jaskier was today. The warmth crept out of the room, and slowly the ruin grew, until Geralt found himself right back in the destroyed ballroom, all illusions gone.

“A long time,” Jaskier answered.

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #geraskier au #cursed jaskier #my writing #romtober

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