#(hello. popping back in for a spell) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zorostitties · 4 months ago

Text

Aurora; 5 (m)

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 7k

A/N: Hello people!!! I present you the longest chapter up until now. I don't even know how it got to this word count but I had a lot of fun writing it anyway!! OH MY GOD THAT'S A LOT OF NOTES Y'ALL 😭😭😭 THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! This fic is receiving so much love both here and on AO3. I'm getting emotional 🥹🥹 Anyways!! Enjoy <3

⤕ Masterlist ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist

Richter’s incessant talking was starting to piss Annette off.

She wasn’t going to tell him, obviously – not because she didn’t have the courage to do it. It was because she knew the reason for her annoyance wasn’t exactly Richter’s voice, nor the voices of the people around her.

It was the spirits’ voices.

They’d been… popping up incessantly ever since that moment at the clearing. Annette was used to seeing spirits to a certain degree; her connection to the other side was part of her powers, part of who she was, after all. She learned to not be afraid of them. She learned to accept her ancestors, to pay attention to their whispers and the messages they carried.

And yet… they’ve never been so restless like that.

Nor so noisy.

And certainly not so clear.

Back in Saint-Domingue, when Annette started to explore her powers, she’d often feel… presences. They caused goosebumps, whispered words in her mind. Sometimes, she’d have strange dreams that carried hidden meanings. When those occurrences became too frequent to be brushed off anymore, Annette opened up to Cécile. Her mentor then explained that it was not only normal, but a privilege; as her abilities blossomed, her ancestors would get closer to her – offering advice, warnings, and even reprimands when necessary.

With time, she started to see figures with the corner of her eyes. Silhouettes in the dark. They never scared her. She knew they were part of her family – just a glimpse of her large family tree, generations of spirits that went all the way to the other side of the ocean, staying beside her even after death… supporting her in her fight for freedom.

Well.

They were starting to scare her now.

Why did they look so angry? Why did they become so clear out of sudden? These weren’t just silhouettes anymore, she could see them as easily as Richter beside her. In fact, some looked so real that they could pass as any other living person; the only indicative that they didn’t belong to this world were the faint transparency of their bodies and the soft glow around them.

And worst of it all – she could not understand a word of what they were saying. Their whispers were unintelligible.

If these really were her ancestors trying to bring a message, why couldn’t they be clear about it?

...Were they even her ancestors? Were they even real? What if she got trapped in an enemy spell, causing her to see illusions?

Annette wanted to scream. She wanted to run. She wanted to they them to shut up and leave her alone. Hell – she was all worried about Ruby earlier that day, as the girl seemed so distressed to be in a crowded city, and yet Annette herself wasn’t feeling much better than her at all.

The sensory overload was so bad that she didn’t see a prominent rock on the pavement and tripped on it, almost falling face down in the middle of the street.

Richter caught her in time.

His hand was quick to take her arm in a gentle, yet firm grip. His blue eyes were even rounder than usual. “Oh! Are you okay?”

The action brought Annette back to reality – and also brought back that feeling she was trying hard to ignore.

The girl straightened her position, stepping away from him rapidly. It was stupid how she already felt her cheeks heat up with such a simple touch of his… but it was becoming a frequent occurrence ever since she accidentally held his hand at the clearing, creating a bit of an… awkward situation for them both.

One more embarrassing thing these spirits made her do.

“Yes, thank you,” she brushed it off the best she could before she continued to walk.

If Richter noticed her reaction, he didn’t let it show. The Belmont boy let a tired sight. “I didn’t expect Paris would be this big,” he muttered tiredly. “I thought when he got here, we were practically at our destination. But… we’ve been walking for hours already.”

Annette had to agree. They’d been walking all morning and this Louvre palace was yet to reveal itself. She even wondered if Alucard was sure of where they were going; after all, she was aware that other palaces existed in Paris. What if Louvre wasn’t the correct one?

“You’re not familiar with Paris? I thought you’d been here before,” she asked.

“I’ve only been here once, and I didn’t stay for long,” Richter explained. “I was just taking care of Maria, to be honest. Not exactly safe to let a teenage girl roam a big city alone, you know, and especially not when she’s reaching out for revolutionaries. Maria gets in trouble pretty easily.”

He let a light chuckle, yet his eyes were saddened at the mention of Maria – and it tightened Annette’s heart just a bit. She knew he was carrying a lot of baggage with him this entire mission. The fight with Maria, Tera’s “death”, how he felt he didn’t help her and had to flee… and now the fact that he handed their destination to that damn vampire. The worst part – Alucard got mad at him.

As if she was reading his mind, Richter lifted his eyes and looked at the white-haired vampire’s back, walking many steps ahead of them with Ruby by his side. To be fair, after that moment at the forest, Alucard wasn’t being mean or cold to Richter (well, not colder than he already was, at least). It was very clear in Annette’s eyes how his anger wore off as hours went by. But Annette also knew that this didn’t ease Richter’s regret.

Annette lowered her voice, hoping Alucard wouldn’t hear her.

“You know,” she started quietly. Her tone caught Richter’s attention. “I don’t think he was that angry at you. I think he was angrier at himself for letting Ruby get hurt.”

Richter blinked. He also thought she was reading his mind. He pressed his lips together, lowering his head again.

“And he decided to lash out on me.”

“Well… it’s not like you didn’t give him a reason to.”

Richter pouted. “Aw, come on. I thought you were trying to cheer me up.”

Annette couldn’t help but giggle. “I’m sorry. But what I mean is… don’t dwell on it. Yes, what you did was silly, but to keep thinking about won’t help you.”

The Belmont boy went silent for a few moments. “Ruby told me the same thing.” He lifted his gaze, now looking at the young woman. “Hey, Annette… what do you think of her?”

Instinctively, she looked at Ruby’s back as well.

From the moment she laid eyes on Ruby, she felt immediate empathy. Her constant hesitant, frightened state… it was painfully familiar. Annette still remembered very well the weeks that followed her escape from the plantation. The nightmares, the shivers, the fear of going out, the paranoia. It took a lot for her to realize that she was safe, that no one would ever hurt her anymore. It took even longer for her to learn how to voice her opinions, to understand that she mattered to the people around her, and they mattered for her, too.

And that’s precisely what helped Annette overcome her struggles. She had something to fight for. A cause she would never give up on. Genuine friends around her. Warriors in arms, family in hearts.

She had Edouard.

The mere mention of his name in her mind was enough to make her want to cry again.

Edouard was who helped her during her darkest times. He was still the reason why she was fighting, why she crossed the ocean, why she would do anything in her power to defeat Sekhmet.

And that was precisely what made Ruby’s situation difficult. She… didn’t have a family – not one she remembered, at least. She didn’t have a past, something to hold onto. Someone that would give her motivation to keep fighting until the end of her forces, until the last drop of sweat. With such an amount of trauma (although Annette didn’t know exactly what she went through in Erzsebet’s hands, it certainly wasn’t easy), it is important to have a reason to stay alive.

Or someone.

Annette’s deceased mother was her primary reason. Then Edouard, Cécile, the Maroons… until she realized that by fighting for them, she was fighting for herself, too.

And… perhaps… perhaps she had a new reason to keep fighting now. A reason she met recently, but that made her feel things that she never felt before. A… sweet, funny, a little silly reason – but strong and determined nevertheless.

“I think she’s being honest,” Annette finally answered Richter’s question. “And… I don’t like to feel sorry for people, but I feel sorry for her. I hope she finds her reason soon.”

Richter frowned, clearly not understanding what she meant by “her reason”, but Annette didn’t feel like elaborating on that.

“The only thing I’m suspicious of is this… healing thing of hers,” Richter said in a quiet tone. “I don’t think anyone can acquire this in a good way.”

Annette had to agree with that. Alucard might be right in his words – maybe the Ruby from the past, the real Ruby, was not the innocent person she seemed to be…

A harsh whisper in her right ear made Annette gasp.

Oh no. Not again. They had stopped for some moments, but then started whispering again. That was more of a hiss, in fact – rushed, anxious, trying to catch her attention.

The spirits trembled. Annette noticed that the crowd around her – the crowd of real people – seemed to be walking in the same direction; they wore apprehensive, even angry expressions on their faces. They were almost as hectic as the spirits.

“Is Paris always like this? I can feel the tension,” Annette muttered more to herself than to Richter. She looked around; there were spirits behind them, to the sides, in front–

Wait, in front–

Her eyes passed rapidly by Alucard and Ruby. They had stopped walking for some reason, but that’s not what caught her attention.

She… she saw a strange glow in Ruby.

It didn’t surround her body like it did with the spirits. It was a… point. Faint, eerie; the tiny point glowed on the left side of her back, almost transparent… like the flame of a candle.

It glowed in the same place as her heart.

Annette tightened her eyes. What was that? Did anyone put a spell on her? Was an enemy nearby? No one else had a glow like that – no one alive, at least. She was about to reach for Ruby’s arm, scared for her safety–

But then, the sound of drums echoed through the streets.

The spirits vanished – just as the strange flame in Ruby’s heart.

Annette blinked repeatedly. Did she… see things?

Alucard looked behind his back to the two of them, now that they had reached their position.

“Something’s about to happen,” he said eerily.

The crowd kept walking. Now, Annette could see that there was a great square ahead of them. It couldn’t be a good thing; she felt a strange sensation in her gut, an apprehension that she could not understand.

She wanted to ask if Ruby was alright – if she felt anything – but decided that was not the time. The group followed the rest of the crowd.

That left a question mark in the back of Annette’s mind. What was that thing she saw in Ruby’s heart?

But then, the King of France was executed, Annette saw the three headed spirit that almost made her have a heart attack – and nothing else mattered after that.

You felt sorry for him.

Of course – you heard the conversation between Richter, Annette and Alucard. They understood the situation much better than you and even had divergent opinions. He wasn’t a particularly bad King, Richter said, while Annette stated that no one can reign innocently. On your understandings, both of them were right to some degree.

And yet, when “Louis The Last” stepped on the platform and knelt in front of the guillotine, you didn’t see the King. You saw a frightened man in the face of death.

Watching normal humans die wasn’t easy; you never got used to it. It was always horrible whenever you’d see one of Erzsebet’s preys let their dying breath, their last gag. It was almost as if you could see their lives slipping away, their bodies becoming empty. And yet, when you realized that they’d finally stopped moving, you felt… relief for them. Because at least, they weren’t in pain anymore. Whenever you saw a human victim be dragged into the hall, you’d silently hope for a quick death upon them. Things didn’t always go that way. You hated when they didn’t.

The square was uncomfortably crowded, but Alucard was right – you were getting used to it, although you were still hoping to leave that place as soon as possible. Angry whispers, shouts, loud discussions... they were energetic.

The conversation of a particular couple close to you caught your attention.

“I don’t think I can look at it,” the woman said with a visible scowl of disgust. The man, still facing the platform, made her hide her face on the curve of his neck.

“It’s okay, darling. You don’t have to.”

You frowned.

She was wrong. He was wrong.

You shouldn’t look away when a man is about to die. It’s dishonorable.

You watched in solemn silence when the sharp blade of the guillotine went down on the man’s neck, beheading him. Blood splashed on the platform. The head rolled one, two, three, four times. A perpetually horrified expression. The crowd cheered in satisfied anger. They felt avenged.

Only then did you close your eyes for a moment. A quick death is a luxury not many have, you thought.

“Annette? Are you alright?”

You opened your eyes and turned around to see Richter calling the girl in yellow. Annette had her back facing you, yet you could see her heavy breathing, which immediately sparked some worry. Was she feeling unwell?

“...Yes,” Annette’s voice almost disappeared within the crowd’s roar. She sounded hesitant and scared. It was the first time she looked even remotely scared.

Alucard was quietly watching her, too, from over his shoulder. Then, he sent you a meaningful glance, pointing with his head a way out of the crowd. He didn’t wait for any of you to follow him.

“Let’s go,” you said, calling Richter and Annette’s attention. She looked more than happy to leave the place, while Richter kept sending her worried glances.

There was no time to ask if she was okay or not. The crowd seemed to be getting even more heated. They shouted, raised their fists in the air, clapped their hands – and it only got worse when one of the guards took the deceased King’s head and put it on a spike, lifting it up for the audience. The crowd started to push each other to try to get a closer look.

That was when the confusion started.

You saw people falling. Children crying. Guards shouting, trying to get control of the situation with no avail. You were pushed, almost smashed in the middle of hundreds of bodies, to a point were your feet were merely following the flow of the crowd, having no control of where you were going.

“There are ladies here, you savage animals!” One woman groaned.

“Stop pushing!” Someone else said.

“Rot in hell, Louis!”

“I want to see the head!”

“Ouch- my foot!”

“Vive la Révolution!”

You desperately tried to make your way out – and there was no way out without pushing people, which only made the situation worse. You looked around, trying to see Richter or Annette; the Belmont boy was quite tall, so it was easy to spot him many rows of people away from you, also being smashed. He sent you a worried gaze and tried to yell something, but you couldn’t hear anything over the incessant shouting. You tried to approach him, but that was like trying to swim against the flow of a river.

Richter tried to shout something again. He managed to lift his hand and point at something to your right side. You supposed he was trying to show you a way out of the crowd.

You turned your head in that direction in time to see Alucard approaching with a deeply annoyed frown.

He caught you by the arm and pressed your body on his, keeping a firm arm around you while the other quite unceremoniously pushed people out of the way. He didn’t let himself be carried by the flow, keeping a solid and consistent pace. Alucard was like a rock in the middle of these people, literally. No one could push him even if they tried (and they tried). He didn’t lose balance.

He was visibly pissed.

And even so, the thing your brain most noticed was that he… had a good smell.

It wasn’t exactly your fault; Alucard was pressing you against his chest after all. And… you tried to remember that method – if you could call it that – that Alucard himself taught you a few hours ago. When your mind was distressed, about to spiral, too overwhelmed… focus on a single thing, a simple thing, to try and muffle everything else.

So you focused on his smell.

It was… sweet. Like spices. It even reminded you a bit of cocoa. And refreshing, maybe a bit citric, like orange.

It… reminded you a bit of the natural smell a baby has after taking a bath.

Vampires have a very specific smell you learned to hate over time. It’s nauseously sweet, like burnt sugar. Add this to unnecessary puffs of perfume – Erzsebet loved floral fragrances – and their absolutely horrible breath that no amount of chewing peppermint could mask.

You shouldn’t be surprised that even though Alucard was half-vampire, he was still starkly different than all the others you’d met, even in the tiniest details. But it surprised you anyway.

Finally, he managed to push his way out of the crowd into a nearby, emptier street, releasing his grip around you. You stepped aside, cleaning the sweat on your forehead with the back of your hand.

“That was… intense,” you managed to speak breathlessly, looking back at the still growing mess. “Thank you.”

Alucard sighed heavily. “We should’ve left sooner,” he muttered dryly, more to himself than to you. “I should’ve figured a commotion like this would happen.” He looked at the crowd for a few more moments before his eyes fell on your figure, the frown on his forehead untying. “How are you feeling?”

You widened your eyes slightly. Sure, he was just being thoughtful, but you figured he was asking that after your… history of panics involving crowds (or even smaller things).

��Oh! I’m totally fine. Thank you,” you tried to sound cheerful. Alucard nodded.

It seemed that all you could tell him was thank you over and over again – and it was starting to annoy you. Not only because a tiny (maybe not so tiny) part of you wanted to have more meaningful conversations with him like the one earlier that day, but because you didn’t want to worry anyone anymore. You wanted to be more useful to the group. But how could you be useful if the group consisted of excellent fighters, experts in magic, and you were just an “ordinary” human? Your healing was only useful to yourself, not to them.

Alucard looked back at the crowd and raised his arm. Following his gaze, you saw Richter and Annette pop out of the mass of people, similarly breathless as you. This at least brought you some comfort. Alucard was the only one to show no sign of tiredness.

The Belmont boy rested his hands over his knees, breathing heavily, when they reached your position. “...I hope that was the only beheading scheduled for today,” he joked tiredly.

Annette didn’t chuckle this time. Worry still clouded her eyes. “Are we close now, Alucard?”

The man nodded. “Only a few blocks away from here. Let’s go.”

He kept marching ahead, not giving any of you a chance to recover.

The Louvre was scarily big.

Bigger than the chateau, bigger than Erzsebet’s palace, bigger than… well, any building you’d ever seen.

The gigantic front garden of the palace was eerily empty, with only a few people walking here and there; most of the population was concentrated on the central square to watch the execution of the King, which would grant you some advantage (and tranquility) to look for Sekhmet’s mummy. You approached the palace a little after the midday sun, its light reflecting on the decorative pools of the garden, the wind softly swaying the trees.

“The monarchies of Europe will be horrified. Already, some of them are waging war on France. They’ll be joined by the rest. The Vampire Messiah plans to lead them, commander and chief of the counterrevolution,” Alucard explained while you walked.

Oh. And just like that, everything made sense. Erzsebet’s reason to be on France, their talks about “crushing a revolution”… Indeed, if she succeeded, she’d be considered the Queen she always aimed to be. One that could unite an entire continent regardless of public opinion, as she sided with the oligarchies which possessed the most power. Vampire oligarchies.

“And just this street rabble to resist her,” Richter said somberly. “Who won’t stand a chance, will they?”

“No.”

A shiver ran down your spine. You didn’t have enough information to understand if the current kings and queens were bad to their people. Judging by the execution witnessed earlier and the reaction it caused… you could assume they weren’t doing a great job. To have a sadistic vampire sitting on a throne, ruling over millions of innocent lives… it would be even worse. Erszebet saw humans as less than insects, barely livestock, and her court thought the same. Soon, she’d be ruling over an empire of corpses.

You looked over your shoulder to Richter and Annette, who had suddenly stopped walking and were a few steps away. They were being too quiet for you to hear them. Richter still looked worried, while Annette seemed distressed.

You looked ahead again. “There’s something wrong with Annette,” you said quietly. Alucard hummed.

“I noticed.” He also kept the quiet tone. “However, we can’t help her if she doesn’t say what’s the problem.”

Alucard was already preventing you from getting stressed. You nodded. “...I hope it’s nothing serious.”

Finally, you reached the doors of the palace. Two guards protected the entrance. After a quick chat, they let you in. Apparently, the palace was public domain now, so it didn’t take a lot of convincing.

Opposing to its empty exterior, the large halls of the Louvre were filled with people – men and women, working on organization and cleaning. All of them wore some sort of hat in the colors of the French flag; members of the Revolution.

“A single family lived here?” you muttered to yourself, letting your gaze wander through the place. The high vaulted ceilings, the tall windows, red columns, golden arabesques, the glass skylights; it was bathed in natural lighting. Not to mention the many pieces of art – statues, paintings, some of the frames towering three times bigger than a person; the intricate carpets, the chandeliers… with each corner you turned (the palace seemed to be an endless labyrinth) you grew more and more speechless.

“No, the royal family lived somewhere else. It was still their property, though,” Richter explained. “And to think the people were dying of hunger and plague while the royal family had all this,” he said bitterly. “It really makes you agree with the revolutionaries.”

You had to admit that it was hard to focus on the task at hand being surrounded by so much art. Erzsebet’s palace was beautiful, of course, but devoid of any personality. It was… beauty for the sake of beauty, mostly. But at the Louvre, you saw sculptures and paintings that looked genuinely ancient; hundreds of years of history, the works of multiple hands, stories being told. It definitely should not be at the hands of a few people only.

A certain half opened door caught your eye. There seemed to be a big statue there that glowed faintly under the sunlight. You narrowed your eyes, trying to see better…

“Oh! Leonardo!”

Alucard’s voice completely caught your attention.

You snapped your head at him. The nonchalance in his expression was completely gone, being replaced by… longing?

He turned to you three with a bit of excitement he hadn’t shown up until that moment. “It’s a painting by Leonardo da Vinci, of a woman he actually couldn’t abide. Or so he told me,” he explained, pointing with his head towards a particular frame. A woman of straight brown hair and dark clothing posed in the painting with a vague expression, her arms crossed over her lap. Alucard closed his eyes for a moment, chuckling, and opened a tender smile. Then, he side eyed you as if telling a secret: “I never really thought it was one of his best.”

Then, he kept on walking as if nothing happened.

...You were pretty sure that you, Richter and Annette were all blushing at that moment.

Alucard never sounded so excited before. Never so lighthearted. And he looked… cute? Adorable, in fact. It made him look very young.

...You’d like to know this side of him a little bit better.

“Is there any order to this? Or do you just… put things anywhere?” Alucard asked one of the men in uniform.

“We’re looking for Ancient Egyptian,” Richter added.

The man pointed ahead. “Go straight, then turn to your left at the end of the corridor. First door.”

You followed his directions after Richter muttered a thank you. Alucard picked up his pace and all of you followed. Now that you had some guidance, it seemed that apprehension weighed over the atmosphere. The room mentioned by the man was empty – if you could call that a room, that is, as it was bigger than some houses. A gallery, in fact.

Wooden crates of different sizes were scattered here and there. Some sculptures were protected by boxes made of glass. Sunlight embraced the entire room through the tall windows. At the far end of the gallery, there were four columns that seemed to imitate palm trees; they had colorful paintings and ancient writings around them.

A shiver ran down your spine. A memory from not long ago – or was it long ago? – was brought forward in your mind. An obelisk with writings similar to those in the columns… the same art styles, the same periods. It would be brought whenever Erzsebet summoned an eclipse… or when Erzsebet summoned Sekhmet. The vampire’s very appearance would change, taking an animalistic look similar to a lioness. Whenever Erzsebet did that, you’d be genuinely frightened, even more than usual. That wasn’t simply the strength of a vampire anymore. It was much more ancient, much stronger, a much denser type of magic… the type that shouldn’t be messed with thoughtlessly, the type that demanded respect upon its use. Erzsebet had no respect for it. Maybe that’s why it was always so horrendous to witness.

“Hm… so we’re looking for a corpse…” Richter muttered, looking around.

“It’s here. I’m sure of it,” Alucard said as he inspected one of the wooden crates.

You thought of searching for it too, but you didn’t want to touch anything. You couldn’t tell exactly why. Was it because of your bad memories associated with anything Egyptian? Or was it something else?

“Show me.”

The three of you turned to Annette at the same time.

“What?” Richter asked.

The girl had an apprehensive expression as she stared at… nothing in particular. She visibly hesitated before speaking.

“There are spirits here. Many spirits,” she confessed quietly. You widened your eyes. Richter instinctively looked around. “They’ve been following us. Following me.” She inhaled, as if building up courage. “Show me.”

You looked around as well and saw, well… nothing. But Annette was following something with her gaze with much attention. Richter approached her.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because I don’t know what they want,” for the first time, Annette showed a glimpse of her real distress over the situation. That’s what had been bothering her since the execution… she was sweating. “Or if they’re real.”

“Do they speak to you?” Alucard asked in a serious tone.

“Yes, but I… can’t understand what they’re whispering,” she narrowed her eyes. “Sometimes they seem angry. There are spirits here now who just seem lost.” She looked at Richter. Annette seemed even more fragile than when you talked to her at the forest, which took you by surprise. “...Or is it me that’s lost?”

Richter pressed his lips together, not taking his eyes off her for a second. He rested a reassuring hand on her back, not saying a word – and it seemed enough to calm her down, even if just a bit.

It even felt that you were interrupting something for a second. And yet, you couldn’t look away. They… seemed to share something very intimate. Very beautiful.

Your chest tightened.

“What’s happening with them now?” Alucard asked quietly, looking around. “Could they be trying to tell you something?”

Annette looked ahead and went silent for some seconds. Then, she pointed in the direction she was looking.

“There.”

The group approached a particular wooden crate sitting at the very end of the gallery, near the columns. Alucard knelt down in front of it and lifted its lid.

And there it was.

A mummy, with its arms crossed over their chest, completely bandaged in red linen, laying over a bed of straw. It had the silhouette of a woman.

“It stinks,” Richter complained, pinching his nose.

Annette narrowed her eyes. “It’s her. It’s Sekhmet,” she confirmed with certainty.

Alucard got up again. All of you watched the mummy for some seconds; it seemed you shared the weight of responsibility that thing represented.

“So, what do we do now?” Richter spoke up first, scratching the back of his head. “I could burn it, or we could just… hack it to pieces and scatter it to the winds.”

“What you do now is give her to me.”

In that moment – time was frozen.

Air left your lungs. Your eyes widened. Every nerve tensed up. Violent goosebumps roamed your entire body.

You turned around. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want to face the owner of that voice. You wanted to believe it was just your mind playing tricks, that there was nothing actually happening. Because there was no way it was her.

Drolta is dead, Alucard said. He confirmed it. He said he was sure.

But you turned around anyway – and what you saw made your heart drop.

That thing couldn’t be Drolta. There was no way. It had a female body, its leathery skin a mix of black and greyish pink. Instead of feet, it had hooves that made it tower over any human. Its wings were leathery as well, similar to a bat’s; its claws seemed to be made of iron, just like the tip of its long tail. Twisted horns sat at the top of its head.

The thing focused its eyes on you and opened a cruel smile.

No.

No no no no no no no.

That thing couldn’t be Drolta. No, there was no way. But you stared back at her, you scanned her facial features, and these were the same eyes. Most of her original form was gone – it had little resemblance to the attractive woman she once was – but the eyes. The cruelty in those eyes. They remained the same.

It was Drolta.

“Yes, Alucard. You killed me,” she said in the same sultry voice you were so disgustingly used to. “And you stole something very precious from me, too.” Her gaze locked on you again. Her smirk turned to an evil grin. “You little runaway rat… it’s time to return home.”

She was twirling something around her pointer finger. The thing she twirled… it gleamed under the sunlight.

You gasped.

It was the ruby necklace.

You had time to see her extend her great wings, ready to launch. A part of your brain registered that she was accompanied by three other winged creatures, but they seemed blurred. All you could do was stare at her. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t do anything.

She attacked.

Alucard jumped at the same time, his body enveloped by the familiar red glow. They clashed mid-air.

And then, Richter’s back blocked your vision.

“Stay behind me!” He yelled, snapping his whip in the air, as the three other creatures launched together.

Annette threw one of her newly created blades in the air as if it was a boomerang to no avail, as it didn’t hit any of the creatures. One of them – it was red, its head was what looked like the skull of a wolf – spat a ball of pure fire in your direction. Seeing there would be no time to grab you, Richter pushed you out of the way roughly, sending you a few meters back; your back hit the wall, causing air to leave your lungs.

The Belmont boy knelt down; his palm touched the ground in your direction. With a grunt of effort, he lifted his hand – and at the same pace, a wall of ice rose around you, enclosing you like an igloo.

The outside noises were muffled for some seconds.

You stayed there, sitting on the floor, unable to move; your entire body trembled, and it had nothing to do with the ice around you. Sweat dripped down your temples. Your breath came difficult, it seemed that the air was burning your throat and your lungs; your vision was blurred.

Drolta is alive Drolta is alive Drolta is alive was all that your mind repeated, yelled at you; Drolta is alive and she came after me, Drolta is worse than she was before, Drolta is going to kill Richter and Annette and Alucard–

Richter and Annette and Alucard–

They were all fighting.

Richter snapped his whip around violently, embedding it in blue flames. When one of his attacks hit, the creature – a black one, with a more humanoid figure – screamed in pain; he jumped, twirled in the air, protected his arm with a layer of ice when one of its attacks was about to hit. He tumbled back to avoid being hit by another gush of fire by the skull-headed night creature.

Annette fought a three-headed beast similar to a dragon; she controlled many pieces of iron around the gallery, aiming them at it. Some hits were successful. She jumped from crate to crate, avoiding the bites as all the three heads tried to catch her in different directions at the same moment.

And Alucard kept Drolta completely focused on him, maintaining the fight in the air, near the ceiling. It seemed that the sword barely made any damage against her leathery skin, and yet he kept attacking and tanking her attacks. You watched with horror as her hair (well, what was supposed to be hair; that thing wasn’t hair anymore) extended themselves like snakes, pursuing him around the gallery, causing great destruction were it hit.

The three of them were fighting. And you understood with great remorse that their objective was to keep the creatures so occupied that they wouldn’t be able to reach you or the mummy.

You were not only completely useless – you were getting in the way.

They couldn’t fight freely with you around.

You gulped, trying to stop panting, but you couldn’t. No no no, not this now. You don’t have time for this. You don’t have time! Why was your body playing tricks on you again? Why couldn’t it function when you needed the most? You needed to get out of there. Fuck, you needed to do something, anything! And still — your body wouldn’t obey.

Focus on a single thing, a simple thing, to try and muffle everything else.

Alucard’s method.

A single thing.

You looked around the small area inside the “igloo”.

Spotted a nail – probably used to lock the lid of the crates.

A simple thing.

With all your might, you forced your shaking arm to move; forced it to stretch, to reach for the nail, to hold it tightly.

Focus on a single thing, a simple thing.

With a grunt of effort, you pierced your own palm with the nail. The sharp pain awakened you from your numb state.

Right on time.

The black creature found an opening in Richter’s incessant attacks and launched itself towards you. The igloo melted. You rolled away from it and got up in a jump.

Annette immediately glued to your side. She was panting, holding blades in both hands; Richter threw a gush of blue flames, trying to keep the beasts away. You couldn’t see Alucard or Drolta behind the wall of fire. However, it wasn’t enough; the three night creatures were about to surround you. You’d have no escape.

Annette seemed to be reading your mind.

She let go of the blades for a second. She gesticulated with her hands as if grabbing something in the air; the wall beside you cracked. Annette “pulled” the air and let a scream of effort. Obeying her command, the wall teared apart, creating a hole towards the corridor – big enough for someone to pass through.

“Run, Ruby! Run!” Annette yelled.

And you obeyed.

You jumped through the hole and sprinted down the corridor, the pain in your palm completely forgotten. The ground was shaking, chandeliers tinkling, dust fell over your head. The sounds of the fight were slowly replaced by screams of fear and many steps. Of course, the palace was packed with workers. Some of them were running towards the Egyptian gallery, being attracted by the loud noises, but stopped running when they saw you.

“Get out of here! Your weapons won’t work!” You shouted without slowing your pace, gesticulating vehemently. “Get out, all of you! Right now!”

Luckily, you didn’t need to repeat yourself; the people in the hall started to run towards the exit.

You turned the corner, desperately trying to find an escape plan. You thought of running outside into the sunlight, but these things weren’t vampires; the sun wouldn’t protect you. You could try to mix with the crowd of people running out of the palace, but it would definitely put them all in danger. You could hide – but was there any safe place? These night creatures weren’t the same as the weak vampires you’ve encountered on your way to Paris. They were actually dangerous, even to your powerful allies.

Your thoughts were cut off when you heard a shrilling growl out there.

A gasp escaped past your lips. It was the three-headed beast – it was flying out there, soaring near the windows… scoping the area after you.

You entered the first room you saw.

You banged the double doors of the gallery. It was much smaller than the Egyptian one, yet the windows were equally large. You rushed to untie the heavy curtains and cover them, immersing the room in darkness; only a peek of light was visible through one of the windows. Shit shit shit shit you needed to barricade the door. You pushed a heavy crate with your back, positioning it against the door, yet you knew it wasn’t nearly enough; you needed to put something between the handles to truly lock it.

It was too dark now. You searched through the wooden boxes with shaking fingers, trying to find any artifact that could do the job; a steel bar, a vase thin enough, anything. The floor was still shaking incessantly. Please, let them be safe, you prayed silently to whoever was hearing; please, let them be safe.

You knelt in front of the final crate and lifted its lid. There were a couple of artifacts there, all so rusty and old that you could barely recognize what they were. A sword, a helmet, what looked like the remains of a broken shield, and… oh! A spear!

Or at least, it resembled a spear. It was completely covered in rust; thin, shorter than an actual spear, and it didn’t have a blade on the tip, but some sort of… rusty circle. Again, it was too dark to understand what that thing was, but it would do the job.

And yet – you hesitated to hold it.

Your fingers hovered over the object with hesitancy.

Suddenly… you weren’t hearing the outside noises anymore. They were distant. All you heard was your thundering heartbeat, your panting.

Your hand tingled. It had nothing to do with the injury you inflicted in yourself. The “spear” seemed to radiate some sort of warmth; you could feel it even some centimeters away. It made your stomach drop in a funny way. It wasn’t the fear or the adrenaline; it felt different.

Finally, you gulped and grabbed the object.

It was, indeed, hot. But that’s not what made your eyes widen.

As soon as you held it, the “spear” started to glow. No, it started to shine.

You watched as the rust around the object dissipated like dust. It shone so brightly that you had to close your eyes; it was so hot that you felt that your palm was about to burn. But then, after a few seconds, it stopped.

You opened your eyes again gasped.

You weren’t holding a rusty “spear” anymore. That wasn’t a spear; it was a scepter.

You got up from the ground slowly. The scepter was almost as tall as you were, made of solid gold. At its tip, the rusty “circle” was gone, being replaced by a small “plate” with twelve curvy “spikes” circling it in regular intervals; an unmistakable representation of the sun. Tiny inscriptions were engraved across its entirety. You brought it closer to your eyes, trying to understand what they meant since it was still dark inside the room – and when you recognized them, you almost dropped the object on the floor.

The writings were on the same strange language from the moon book Erzsebet made you read. You recognized the characters.

What the hell was that?!

The sound of an explosion so loud out there that made the floor shake yanked you out of your own head.

Fuck. I still need to lock the door, you remembered, rushing towards it with the scepter in hand. You were still shaking, clumsily trying to barricade the hangs with the long object–

A window crashed.

You screamed in horror. Glass flew everywhere, part of the wall was destroyed, the curtain was ripped off. You turned around to see the three-headed beast enter the gallery, groaning and hissing, as Annette gripped one of its necks for dear life.

She finally released the night creature before one of the heads could chop her, landing on her feet and putting herself between you and the thing. She was visibly tired, yet her eyes were ferocious. You noticed that the creature had lost its middle head, probably the reason for it to be so aggressive.

Annette growled. She controlled iron objects around her, launching them all at the creature; it flapped its wings violently to avoid being hit, destroying crates and artifacts around it. The creature ran towards Annette. She pushed you out of the way.

“Ruby, you need to–“ she jumped, avoiding a hit. “You need–“ she managed to cut the thing’s leg, skipping out of danger’s line before it could strike. “You need to go!”

There was no way to run through the broken window – to reach it, you’d have to come across the night creature. The doors were the only escape – and they were fucking barricaded by the crate you put there previously. You groaned, putting all of your strength into pushing it away, the scepter completely forgotten on the floor. You needed to run, you needed to run, you needed to–

Your eyes were glued in Annette.

Like what happened at the forest, it seemed that the world was moving in slow motion again.

You saw as Annette twirled mid-air above the beast; with one hand, she controlled one of her blades to pierce the creature’s left skull, but it was unsuccessful; the thing caught the blade with its teeth. Her landing trajectory was at the right side of the same head. She already held another blade firmly with both hands.

Annette landed graciously. With a groan of effort, she sliced its left head, beheading it.

But the right head was still there. The right head already had its jaws open wide. Annette was stuck between the remaining head and the neck of the one she had just beheaded. There was no escape route. She would not have time to react.

You saw all that unfold in front of your eyes and got to the obvious conclusion: Annette was going to die.

So you moved.

You sprinted from the place you were on the floor. You didn’t wait until the world would start moving fast again. You didn’t wait for Annette to realize what you were about to do.

You put yourself between her and the monster.

Its jaws tightened around the entire right side of your body – and when the world started moving at its normal speed again, all that existed was pain.

#alucard x reader #castlevania alucard #castlevania #castlevania nocturne #alucard x you #adrian tepes x reader #adrian tepes #adrian fahrenheit tepes #alucard tepes #castlevania x reader

411 notes · View notes

crheativity · 8 months ago

Note

Hello! I saw your writing about track club members, spell drive members, basketball members getting kissed on the cheek after playing a game, so could I request the same, but after a show for the pop music club people?

SUMMARY: After a successful club meet, you give them a kiss on the cheek! How do they react?

WARNINGS: Might be slightly out of character (particularly Kalim and Cater) but I have Opinions about those two. Also, Sebek yells at you.

COMMENTS: Hey! Sorry this took me a while to get to hehe. I love this idea! I don’t write for these characters enough hehe. Also, hope you don’t mind but I added the Equestrian club too because I felt like it :) If you'd like to read part 1 with the track club, spell drive club and basketball club members, click here.

This could go a couple different ways, depending on the setting. On the one hand, he’s ecstatic that you kissed him! That means you like him, right? On the other hand, you just kissed him. His heart is pounding and he wants to hide in his room, especially if others saw it. He likes you a lot, but a kiss implies a whole lot of things he isn’t fully certain he’s ready for. If you look for him afterwards - after the kiss, the people have all gone, hiding in his room - he might just show you a new side to himself. A new reflection of the diamond - one that’s imperfect, but dedicated to you.

Ohhh wow, you just kissed him, huh? He’s been kissed by his family and stuff before but this feels… different. In a good way! He’s never kissed a homie before, he wonders if it’s a cultural thing where you’re from. Definitely unrelated but this adrenaline from the show is lasting much longer than anticipated. It was fading after the show, but now it’s back, haha. He wonders why? Maybe he’ll go talk to Jamil about it. Although, maybe - if it’s not insensitive or something - you could give him another kiss first?

Awwh, aren’t you a cutie! Fufufu, he might just have to sneak you into more of his shows from now on! Lilia is thoroughly delighted and amused. It’s so adorably sweet that you thought to kiss him - exactly why he likes you! He’s another one that would demand your presence for every concert he performs in from now on. Often before you find him after the show, he’ll tap you on the shoulder and kiss you on the cheek before you can kiss him. He vanishes into the crowd again afterwards though - a little game of hide and seek never hurt anyone, right~?

WHAT. What did you just do-?! That was a rhetorical question, he knows what you just did, but- but wHY. His mind is racing, trying to figure out why you’d do such a thing, if it was against the rules, if there was a way he was “supposed” to react. But that’s very hard to do when his stupid brain keeps replaying the- the action in his head repeatedly. Congratulations, you’ve broken him. All he knows now is that he really wants you to come to the next meet, and the next, until you both graduate. Good luck getting him to admit that or tell you when they are, though!

He is now wide awake. Externally, he looks relatively composed, but internally he’s going ??? Did he dream that??? Was that real or fake? Gosh, he hopes it was real. He’s extra kind to you for the rest of the day, but as soon as he’s back at Diasomnia he’s asking Lilia if that really happened. Lilia is in astonishment that his son can’t remember if you actually kissed him, but the idea that Silver likes you so much that he can’t tell if a kiss from you is a perfect dream or a shocking reality is adorable to him! He’s setting you two up now. Be prepared for more Lilia (and Silver) in your life.

He is CAUSING a SCENE. That has to be against some kind of rule! He’s certain you’re trying to distract him from his training, or— or from protecting Malleus! Yes! That must be it! You are a HAZARD to the cause— why are you grinning. THIS ISN’T FUNNY. HE IS NOT BLUSHING. HE IS ANGRY. (you can absolutely tell the difference, he’s bright pink). Sebek is convinced you’re causing a scene - but he’s the one who stopped in the middle of the celebration just to yell at you. Everyone there thinks it’s really funny (barring Riddle who’s just about done with this whole scenario and Silver who fell asleep).

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

442 notes · View notes

vera-deville · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! I really love your works for twisted wonderland! I was wondering if i can make a request please?

Maybe a one shot of leona with a s/o that is very sweet and shy that used to have a very toxic relationship before meeting him, maybe in some moment the reader's ex tries to get back together but to everyone surprise(and Leona's pride) reader ends up slapping their ex.

I hope you're good! If you don't like this request just tell me!

The Quiet After Roaring

05/01/2025

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x Reader Word Count: 3,299 Warnings: Reader deals with an ex, hurtful sentiments, mentions of toxic relationship with the ex Gender: AFAB Tags: @viviennevermillion, @achy-boo, @savanaclaw1996, @atomatoho3, @qaxdea, @katzline Notes: Thank you so much for your ask and for your kind words! I've written so many fics for Leona and I can never seem to get enough. ^-^ I hope you enjoy this! Masterlist

It was always the little things that lingered.

The ghost of a grip too tight on your wrist. Words with edges that sliced deeper than any spell. Silence used like a blade, sharpened by disappointment and left to cut you open when you least expected it. It had been months since the supposed end of it, months since the relationship had ended, but there were nights where you swore you could still hear his voice - sickly sweet and poisonous at the same time - echoing in your head.

You hadn't told anyone. Not outright. Because how could you?

You should have known better. Because you were the fool who stayed too long. Because you were the girl who once flinched at kindness, who didn't know how to take a compliment without instinctively brushing it off, who apologized for existing.

It didn't matter how much time had passed. It didn't matter that things were looking better for you now. It didn't matter that you had begun anew. The cracks in your foundation followed you wherever you went.

And Leona noticed.

At first, you thought it was just his usual laziness. He always had a strange way of showing interest - flat-toned grunts, sarcastic remarks, occasional glances like he was trying to decide whether you were worth getting up for. But then he started sticking around more (well, more than his usual boyfriend duties were). There were no big declarations. Just...small things.

"Eat," He muttered one afternoon, tossing you a neatly wrapped sandwich while lounging in his favorite sunspot behind the botanical garden. You blinked at the sudden gift, half-expecting there to be a prank hidden inside (that would be far too much effort on his side), but when you opened it, it was just food. Normal. Real. Warm.

"Leona, I-"

"You skipped lunch." His tone brooked no argument. "Don't make me waste good meat."

And that was the first time.

The second time was when he caught you flinching from a raised voice in the cafeteria. Some Savanaclaw students were roughhousing again - nothing out of the ordinary - but something in the deep, guttural shouting triggered something sharp and suffocating in your chest. You'd dropped your tray. Frozen.

The sound of it clattering to the ground was what pulled you back.

And then, there was Leona. Standing over you, growling low in his throat, amber eyes flicking dangerously toward the students responsible.

"Pick it up," He snapped - not to you, but at the others.

Ruggie darted in from the sidelines with a rag, mumbling apologies, trying to smooth things over.

"Jeez, Boss," He said later, trailing behind Leona as they exited the dining hall. "You're kinda hovering these days."

Leona didn't answer. He didn't have to. His tail flicked once behind him, low and controlled.

You weren't stupid. You noticed, eventually.

The way Jack seemed to suddenly pop up in your elective classes. "Must've swapped schedules," He claimed with a shrug. How Ruggie would "coincidentally" run into you in the halls with some silly errand. Or how Leona just happened to be sunbathing exactly where you needed to walk through to get to the greenhouse.

It wasn't a coincidence.

It was a net, strung tight but invisible, a protective perimeter you hadn't even asked for. But gods, did it make your chest ache.

You didn't know what to do with that kind of care. You didn't know how to handle someone noticing without demanding. Caring without controlling. Protecting without possessiveness.

So you tried to ignore it. You tried to pretend you were fine.

You smile politely. You laughed when jokes were told. You passed your classes. You stayed out of trouble. You were perfect.

But Leona could see it - the subtle stiffening of your shoulders when someone stood too close, the polite distance you maintained with even your closest friends, the carefully measured responses that lacked real warmth.

He wasn't the sentimental type. But he'd been raised among beasts. He knew what fear looked like - even when you tried to wear it like armor.

So he said nothing.

Instead, he watched.

When a group project came up in Potions, he made sure Ruggie requested you as a partner.

When Vargas assigned a brutal fitness test, Jack "accidentally" jogged beside you the whole time, keeping your pace.

When Crowley announced an upcoming academic field trip (one that would only last a day) to Royal Sword Academy, Leona joined the delegation, despite grumbling endlessly about it being a "waste of time."

You were surprised when he volunteered. He usually avoided anything that required effort. But he just grunted when you asked.

"They needed someone competent. Guess the bar's that low."

You rolled your eyes, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you. You knew the truth. He was going because you were going.

And you were starting to realize...he always had been.

He never pressured you to talk. Never pried about your previous relationship, despite you mentioning it in passing. But in the quiet, in the ways he looked at you, you understood: he knew enough.

You once caught him standing outside Professor Trein's classroom after your lecture ended, arms folded, posture lazy. But his eyes scanned every student exiting the room until they landed on you.

You'd raised an eyebrow. "Waiting for someone?"

"Yeah. You."

"Awwww, look who's being a sweet boyfriend~"

"Tch, just wanted to walk back with you. You look like you're about to pass out."

You hadn't realized you were shaking until that moment.

You didn't ask how he knew. You didn't need to.

Leona wasn't soft. He didn't coddle. But he was steady - solid like sun-warmed stone - and he never once made you feel like you were broken.

He was patient in his own rough way. Like he was giving you time.

Time to trust again.

Time to breathe.

Time to heal.

And thought you hadn't said it yet, hadn't dared to, you were starting to feel truly safe again.

But safety is a fragile and fickle thing. Sometimes, all it takes is a name from the past, a face you hoped you'd never see again, to shatter it in an instant.

And that moment?

That was just around the corner.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

You didn't expect to run into anyone familiar at Royal Sword Academy. The trip had been framed as a formal exchange - a handful of NRC students invited for a tour (and vice versa), a diplomatic gesture between the two rival schools. It should've been simple. Stiff handshakes, polite smiles that didn't quite reach the eyes, and a quick tour of immaculate halls that smelled like lemon polish and self-righteousness. No drama.

But of course, fate was much crueler than that.

Your group had just finished viewing RSA's main greenhouse - a pristine, sun-drenched dome filled with flowering, magical herbs - and students had dispersed into smaller groups to explore the campus. You were trailing behind Leona, thinking about how much more you liked the gardens at NRC than this, despite its grandiosity, when a voice slithered through the air like a snake in the grass.

"Well, well. I didn't think I'd see you here."

You froze.

No. Not here. Not him.

Your breath caught, shoulders stiffening as you slowly turned toward the voice. And there he was - your ex. Tall, arrogant, that same smug tilt to his chin that you used to find charming and now could only see as infuriating. His uniform - RSA's pristine whites and golds - looked too noble for someone so rotten.

Leona stopped walking. His tail gave a flick, catching the tension in your stance.

Your ex smiled. "Didn't think they let charity cases into these kinds of events."

You clenched your fists.

"Walk away," you muttered under your breath, barely audible.

"What was that?" He asked, stepping closer. "Didn't quite catch that, sweetheart."

You flinched at the pet name. It rolled off his tongue with the same venom as always.

"You don't get to call me that," You said, voice shaking.

"Why not? It's not like you've upgraded much," He continued, now eyeing Leona with thinly veiled contempt. "This your new keeper? Figures you'd end up with a mangy stray."

Leona, who had been silent until now, lifted his head. "You got a problem, Herbivore?"

Your ex ignored him entirely, eyes still on you. "I've been thinking, you know. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I mean, sure, things got...heated sometimes, but I think we could work things out. You were always a little too sensitive-"

Crack.

The sound echoed across the courtyard before you even registered what you'd done.

Your knuckles stung. He was clutching his nose. Silence followed.

Dozens of heads turned. RSA students paused mid-step. Your NRC friends froze. Even Leona blinked in mild surprise.

And then - "Ha!" Leona laughed once, sharp and impressed. "About damn time."

Your ex reeled back, still clutching his face with as much delicacy he could muster, lest the pain increase tenfold. "Y-You crazy bitch!"

Leona growled low in his throat.

"Say that again," He said, stepping forward. "I dare you."

But he didn't have to. RSA staff and faculty were already converging at the scene. Murmurs broke out among the crowd. You felt dizzy, heart hammering in your chest as the reality of what you'd just done hit you like those trucks in isekai novels.

You'd punched him. In public. On another school's campus. In front of students, teachers, and Leona.

And then - like a blade through the whispers - came a calm, authoritative voice.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Headmaster Ambrose stepped forward, robes flowing, gaze sharp and unreadable behind small glasses. He looked at you, then at your ex, then to the watching crowd.

"Miss," He said to you. "And you, Mister Klyne." His voice was soft, but it carried. "To my office. Now."

You felt your legs turn to lead.

Leona took a step forward like he was about to protest, but the headmaster raised a single hand. The courtyard fell silent.

"This is not up for discussion."

Leona's teeth clicked together in frustration. You turned to him briefly, and he gave you a tiny nod. "Go. I'll be waitin'."

You swallowed hard and followed the Headmaster across the courtyard, your ex trailing behind. The walk was long, the silence deafening. Your mind raced - what if they banned you from future exchanges? What if they told Crowley? What if-

"You're not in trouble," Ambrose said suddenly, his voice slicing through your panic. "Not yet. But I'd like to hear what happened before I reach a conclusion."

You blinked up at him.

He wasn't angry. Not yet. Just...watchful. Fair.

In the ornate calm of the Headmaster's office, you sat on a soft leather chair, hands clenched in your lap. Your ex tried to speak first, but Ambrose cut him off.

"I'll hear from her first."

You looked up in surprise. The Headmaster gestured for you to speak.

So you did. You told him everything - your past with the boy across from you, the emotional manipulation, the veiled insults, the slow eroding of your confidence. You explained how you'd tried to stay quiet, how you didn't want to cause a scene, but he pushed and pushed-

"I see," Ambrose said, once you finished.

He turned to your ex, who sputtered with indignation, trying to refute every word with half-truths and shifting blame. But the more he talked, the deeper a frown settled onto the Headmaster's face.

When the boy finished, Amrbsoe sat back in his chair and let the silence hang for a moment.

"I appreciate your honesty," He said to you. Then, turning to your ex, "You will receive formal disciplinary action from RSA, and a written apology will be sent to Night Raven College on your behalf. I expect it to be delivered by the end of the week. Until then, consider yourself restricted from cross-campus interactions.

Your mouth dropped open.

"And you," Ambrose said, turning back to you, his voice softer, "Have nothing to fear. While I don't condone violence, I understand provocation. I also understand the importance of standing your ground."

You blinked back tears you hadn't realized were forming. "Thank you, Sir."

He gave a small smile. "You're welcome, dear. You may rejoin your group now."

As you left the office, your heart felt lighter, if only a little. The crowd had mostly dispersed, but your NRC group - Leona, Ruggie, Jack (definitely not a coincidence that these three were the ones to accompany you to RSA), as well as a few others - rushed toward you the moment they spotted you.

"What happened?" Jack asked, brows drawn in concern.

"Did that guy try to mess with you again?" Ruggie added.

You hesitated, then smiled faintly. "I'm okay. The Headmaster...he listened. My ex is getting formally punished and has to send a written apology."

"Serves him right," Ruggie muttered.

Jack nodded. "Good."

Leona didn't say anything right away. He just looked at you. His gaze wasn't intense, not sharp or cold like it usually was. Just...steady.

"You alright?" He asked, voice low.

You nodded, and for once, it didn't feel like a lie.

"Damn right you are," He said, and turned away. "Come on. Let's go. These sparkly bastards are makin' my skin itch."

You laughed, a little watery, and followed him.

Leona didn't offer a hug, or a pat on the back, or even a hand to hold. But he slowed his pace so you could walk beside him. He kept glancing at you, tail flicking every time someone looked at you too long. And though he didn't say it, you could feel it.

He was proud of you.

And that was enough.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Ramshackle was unusually quiet that night.

Grim had long since retreated to his own bedroom, tail flicking behind him and muttering something about not wanting to be caught in any "mushy drama" (you think that's his nice way of letting you spend time with Leona). The shadows of the old dorm stretched across the cracked wooden floor. And the wind rattled softly against the windows. You and Leona sat side by side on your bed, still dressed from the long trip back from Royal Sword Academy. The air hung heavy - not with tension, but with the weight of everything that had happened.

You hadn't said much since returning. Your hands fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve, pulling at loose threads, unsure of what to do with all the leftover emotions that swirled inside you like a storm. The rush of confrontation, the relief of justice, the fear of it all blowing up in your face - now that the dust had settled, it all had nowhere to go.

Leona hadn't said much either, but that wasn't out of character. He sat leaning back against your headboard like he belonged there, arms behind his head, eyes half-lidded in that lazy lion way of his. But his tail flicked restlessly at the edge of the bed, betraying that he wasn't nearly as relaxed as he looked.

"I should've seen it coming," You muttered.

Leona's ears twitched. "What?"

"I should've known he'd be there. Should've stayed away. Should've just...I don't know. Disappeared."

He cracked one eye open, gaze sharp despite his relaxed posture. "You blaming yourself for running into that walking dumpster fire?"

Your lips pressed into a thin line. "I don't know what I'm doing," You admitted. "I thought I was better. That I'd moved on. But seeing him again just...it brought back everything. I still feel like the person I was when they were hurting me."

Leona was quiet for a long moment. Then he shifted, leaning over to pluck a throw pillow from the floor and chucking it lightly at your face.

"Hey!"

"You're not that person anymore," He said bluntly. "They don't get to live in your head rent-free just 'cuz they crawled out of their little sewer hole for a day."

You let out a weak laugh, catching the pillow and hugging it to your chest. "Yeah, well...it's hard to believe that. Especially when I'm the one who keeps spiraling."

Leona exhaled through his nose, irritated. But not with you. "Tch. That's what pisses me off. You keep doubting yourself when you're the one who slapped that bastard into next week. That wasn't just some scared girl from the past - that was you now. The one who doesn't take shit. The one who stood there in front of all those students and made it clear you weren't gonna be stepped on anymore."

You looked at him, surprised.

"...You really think I was strong back there?"

Leona scoffed, eyes rolling like the question was offensive. "What, you think I get proud over just anything?"

He sat up a little, tail curling around his waist lazily. "You got guts. Way more than most people I know. You think Ruggie or Jack could've stood there without trembling? Please. I've seen Jack trip over his own tail when he's nervous. And Ruggie? He'd have tried to scam the guy out of his lunch money and run."

Despite yourself, you smiled.

Then you looked down again. The smile faded.

"But what if I'm still...broken?" You asked quietly. "What if there's some part of me that they ruined? And it'll always be there? I'm scared that someday, I won't be good enough for you. That you'll wake up and realize I'm not strong, or I'm too much of a mess, or-"

Leona groaned and flopped fully onto the mattress, dragging you with him until your cheek landed against his shoulder.

"Stars, you're annoying when you get like this."

You stiffened.

"Not because of the way you fell," He clarified, lazily stroking your hair. "That part's fine. Emotions, trauma, all that crap - I get it. Life kicks you in the face, and it leaves a mark. But this constant fear that I'm gonna up and walk away? That I'm gonna get tired of you? That's what's annoying."

You blinked up at him, mouth slightly open.

"I don't do things I don't want to," He said flatly. "You should've figured that out by now. If I didn't want you, I wouldn't be here. I'd be asleep somewhere way more comfortable, not stuck in this dusty-ass bed in a drafty-ass dorm with peeling wallpaper and one cranky raccoon-cat as a roommate."

"Hey, Grim's not that bad."

"You're deflecting," Leona said, flicking your forehead gently.

You winced. "Ow."

"I'm serious," He said, voice softening just a little. "I chose you. I keep choosing you. And if you ever say that 'not good enough' crap again, I'm gonna make you write a ten-page essay on why that's bullshit."

You choked on a laugh. "Leona-"

He reached up and smoothed a hand down your back. "You're not broken. You're healing. And yeah, sometimes that means you'll fall apart a little. Doesn't mean I'm gonna ditch you. I'm not scared of what you think is a mess."

You buried your face into his shoulder, not quite crying, but close. The tension in your chest began to uncoil.

"...Thanks," you whispered.

He grunted. "Don't make it weird."

You both lay there for a while, wrapped up in the quiet hum of Ramshackle and each other. His arms stayed around you, his breathing steady and warm against your skin. It wasn't grand. It wasn't overly sentimental. But it was real.

Comfort, given the Leona way - through presence, through sarcasm, through quiet truth.

Just as your eyes started to drift closed, Leona shifted again and tapped your chin to make you look up at him.

"You listenin'?"

"Mmhmm," You mumbled.

"Good." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead - gentle, warm, and startingly tender.

"Sleep," He said, voice low and gruff. "I've got you."

And somehow, with all the broken pieces still stitching themselves back together, you believed him.

Author's Note: As soon as I read this request, I just knew that I had to make as long a fic as I could out of this. I had so many ideas and had a whole sequence planned out for the story. I like to imagine the ex is from Royal Sword Academy (just cuz I like the irony of it). I don't know when or how the Reader dated him, but who cares? She's got Leona now. Wish that were me. Also, I know you specified slapping the ex in the request, but I just thought it would be so much more satisfying to punch the bastard, so that's what I wrote. (Hope you still liked it)!

Masterlist

282 notes · View notes

three-realms-archive · 11 months ago

Text

Beware Sorcerer MC, the Kind.

Know it is a rare occasion, if you happen to see the Master of the Seven Avatars of Sin out without an escort. Whilst rare, it will be obvious – like a single dandelion seed twirling and carefree in the middle of a raging thunderstorm.

Like a thunderstorm, they are terrifying. Their bright, brilliant smiles – shining like the sun as they nonchalantly sidestep yet another carnivorous plant lashing out at them from the sidewalk; or as they wave hello to the gargoyle who spits on the heads of passers-by from where it is perched atop the local bakery; or as they gently chastise one of the Seven Rulers of the Underworld, as if scolding a child. It is a sight to behold indeed - when irritated demons on the street stop their bickering and straighten their ties as MC turns the corner, the bitterness in their hearts killed by an unwillingness to disappoint the realm’s most prized person.

‘Apprentice to Solomon the Wise. Master of the Seven Avatars of Sin.’

‘Sorcerer MC, the Kind,’ the Devildom calls them. Some say the title was a joke in passing from MC’s teacher - the wise sorcerer, Solomon - one day in the RAD lunch hall and it just stuck. Others say the title came from a demon they had helped, who saw it fit to spread word of their deeds. And some others say the title came from Crown Prince Diavolo, himself.

“What do you mean, beware MC, the Kind?!” You say, almost spitting out your tea as Diavolo hands you his D.D.D. There’s an article on screen, with ‘Beware Sorcerer MC, the Kind’ as it’s title; praising you as the central force behind Diavolo’s efforts for peace amongst the three realms. Problem is - as you continue to scroll through it - it seems to portray simple kindness as some kind of magic spell… with a particular warning to demon children to not sin in broad daylight lest ‘MC the Kind smite you with the curse of their forgiveness, like they often do in the hallowed walls of RAD’s mess hall.’

“Flattering,” Barbatos comments, refilling your tea cup before you can blink, “do you not think, MC?”

Diavolo nods, happily. “I agree with Barbatos.”

“Smite, guys.” You look up at the happy pair beaming at you – then look back at the article. You repeat this a few times, blinking slowly. “I… I just share my dessert sometimes at RAD - is that smiting? Lord Diavolo, have I been smiting?!”

“Such high praise, MC.” Barbatos grins. “This calls for the good tea cakes.”

“The good tea cakes – thank you, Barbatos! And the good Demonus! Our longest aged!

… You aren’t sure how to respond to how happy they are about this.

(this was fun to write. i wanted to think of mc gaining a reputation like solomon’s, since i like whenever them being a a sorcerer in their own right pops up. solomon’s the wise sorcerer - so mc being the kind sorcerer seemed fitting ahahaha)

(i had fun trying to to give mc the same reputation and respect and power but with the ‘kind’ title, and landed on demons being like ‘mc said i should apologise oh no what is this guilt must be a spell’)

#its literally just their consciences #mc is confused like ‘have i been doing spells without knowing???’#solomon feeds off this by saying please is close to demon language for i smite thee #mc believes it #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me #obey me mc #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me writing

519 notes · View notes

corroded-hellfire · 5 months ago

Note

Hiii!! I had an idea for the As You Wish Series, what if Eddie and R are invited to their daughters kindergarten/elementary talent show. And she’s supposedly singing, and she comes on stage and starts belting out Twist by Korn!

I wonder what their reactions would be!

+ (Your writing is really really good ☺️)

Thank you so much 🥺

Apparently there are arguments that there are real lyrics to this song or if it’s just scatting. The proposed lyrics would not be child appropriate so I went with scatting, containing phonetic spellings that I found on Reddit lol

Words: 1.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Did she tell you what she’s going to sing?”

You take your seat in the hard plastic chair next to your husband. The cafeteria of Hawkins Elementary School is full of kindergarteners’ parents, milling about and having soft conversations as they await the talent show to begin. It’s a small room, and the stage is a single step up that might be able to hold one class at a time.

Both you and Eddie cleared your entire Friday to see your daughter perform and then take her out to lunch. Luke and Ryan grumbled about how they still have to go to school the whole day but your husband was quick to remind them that he did the same thing for each of them when they had their respective kindergarten talent shows. Wayne is back at the house, watching the twins for a few hours. The older man assured you he was able to handle the newly one-year-olds at the same time. Of course, you trust him, but that doesn’t mean you don’t miss your babies and hope everything is going well.

“She wouldn’t tell me,” Eddie answers you with a sigh. “I tried everything. Since when can Eliza not be bribed?”

You turn your head and cock an eyebrow at your husband.

“You tried to bribe our five-year-old?”

“Oh, don’t act like you’ve never done that.” Eddie’s cocky smile dares you to lie to him.

“What did you try to give her?” you ask, skirting around his response altogether.

Eddie heaves a deep sigh and drapes his arm along the back of your chair.

“Ice cream. Apparently, vanilla was a no-go, though.”

“Ah,” you muse, snuggling up to his side. “That was your mistake. She’s in her cookie dough period right now.”

Eddie lets out a soft groan and says softly so that only you can hear, “It’s going to be a princess song, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.” You shrug. “But she has an eclectic taste just like her parents.”

“She gets the good taste from me,” Eddie says.

“Sure, honey.”

A young woman in a gray argyle sweater and a calf-length cranberry skirt steps up on the stage and your attention turns towards her. The famed Ms. Berry you hear about almost every day after school smiles out at the audience and rubs her hands together before speaking.

“Hello! Welcome to our Hawkins Kindergarten Talent Show!” There’s a soft polite applause from the crowd before she continues. “First, we will start with my class. So, please welcome our first student from Ms. Berry’s class, Andy Arvano.”

The only downside of having a last name that starts with an “M” is always having to wait, being stuck in the middle of the pack alphabetically. The first eleven students perform a variety of “talents”: juggling, dancing, singing, jump rope, magic tricks, and even ventriloquism.

By the time it’s Eliza’s turn, Eddie’s about ready to fall asleep. But the moment he hears his little girl’s name announced, he’s wide awake and sitting up straight in his rigid seat.

The indigo curtain partitioning off the cramped backstage space is tugged to the side by a small hand with perfectly pink polished nails. Out pops your daughter’s beautiful face, her bright smile shining out at everyone as she steps out and makes her way to the middle of the stage, her magenta dress with white polka dots swaying with her movements. She looks down at her black Mary Jane shoes, before looking back up at the crowd. It’s impossible to keep a smile off your face as you watch her gently toss her head to make sure her ringlet curls fall just right against her cheeks. Without raising her hand higher than her waist, Eliza throws you and Eddie a quick wave. Giddily, the two of you wave back to her.

Eliza’s chest lifts as she takes a deep breath and you feel like you’re on the edge of your seat. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Eddie beaming as he looks up at her. You reach over and slip your hand into his. He gives yours a gentle squeeze in anticipation.

“Twist!”

The belted-out word takes you aback. Without music accompanying her, you’re initially confused as to what song she’s singing.

After the first word, Eliza begins to jump up and down on the spot, thrashing her head from side to side. Her curls whip around, smacking her in the face with every turn. Her motions don’t stop as she opens her mouth and continues.

“You not ooh rah dah en dahp ooh rah daht endaht en dik ah poo ra ta teek a poo rah doo rah do dik oh mumblio dah dah dosa pa errah sa dey definitely ha to think about pa errah so ma et it heh uh uh rah nada no ob rah da sa oh rak ah you ma heh to bro rah de de eh ah is ah ra ray nah hear aned darayeah woo who rah eh pay pa do rah not to errraah.”

The approximation of words, which could hardly be called scatting in this instance, clues you and Eddie into where she got her choice of song.

You hear Eddie let out an irritated sigh under his breath. He leans in and whispers in your ear the one word conclusion that you’ve also come to.

“Ryan.”

Silently, you nod. Your eyes don’t leave Eliza as her jumping becomes even more frantic and her arms start pumping up and down with the action.

“Twist!”

Someone a few rows behind you lets out a soft snicker and it breaks your own resolve as well. You smile, pressing your lips together to contain laughter as you watch your five-year-old shout out a Korn song. Eddie chuckles next to you as well and the two of you share an amused glance before looking back at the performance.

“ooh e ooh rah daht endaht endaht endaht ooh rah sadah eh mah rah day huh pah tay who uh mah nah who nah peek a boo nah eh na ooh rah eh essimple he neh head a nerah.”

Coming up on the final word, Eliza ceases her bouncing. She poses with her feet spread, her arms reaching out, resembling a starfish as she throws her head back.

“Twist!”

Her little chest is heaving as she finishes. Both you and Eddie immediately break into applause, the crowd around you doing the same. It’s by far the most entertaining performance of the afternoon.

The proud look that graces your daughter’s face at the clapping warms your heart. She grabs the sides of her skirt and tucks one leg behind the other, dropping into a curtsy. Once she stands back up, she searches for you and Eddie in the crowd. You immediately blow her kisses and Eddie waves at her. She giggles and gives a quick wave back before skipping off the stage.

After she’s out of sight, your laughter comes bubbling out. You tuck your face into Eddie’s neck and he slings his arm around you, chuckling himself.

“Oh boy,” he huffs with a laugh. “Well…it could’ve been a worse Korn song.”

You pick your head up and press a kiss to his cheek.

“At least it wasn’t a princess song, huh?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #older!eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #Eddie Munson fanfiction #eddie munson fan fiction #Eddie Munson fan fic #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS #request

290 notes · View notes

craske · 5 months ago

Note

Hi! Just read through your dejammed au tag and I loved it! Saw shilk gets his hair eyes back when he uses powerful spells, could we see an example of that happening please?

Don't feel forced to ofc!!

hello!!!!! im glad you did!!!!

yeah his shadow eyes pop back up when he uses strong magics. just like other beasts, hes been baked with wielding the soul jam from the very beginning in mind, so hes always had it to fuel his spells and now its gone so he needs to actually strain himself. at least at first. (considering what he is though even without the soul jam all beasts are still very powerful, just not overwhelmingly)

the said spells include reaching into the other-realm among other things, something he could do sooo effortlessly before

or teleportation! he needs to draw out glyph circles for that now too, and teleporting outside of the room does require a lot of magic if youre not using anything else as an amplifier or anchor

or, well....

it takes a lot to counter other powerful spells you know??

#cookie run kingdom #shadow milk cookie #ask #anon #my art #fanart #digital art #dejammed au #the last thing is a pretty late game #a peek into something that could perhaps happen at one point #i did mention something like reverting a while ago huh

361 notes · View notes

jyoongim · 1 year ago

Note

Hiii

Alastor X human!reader where she is desperate to make a deal for fame and glory.

She tries to summon a demon, accidentally conjuring Alastor. Beside her feisty facade she’s quite innocent and naive. He’s intrigued by her and toys with her, like a prey,tricking her into him, she signs the deal. He’ll come back after 1yr to collect his pretty little prize…her body and soul. 🌶️🔥

Title: A Price to Pay

part 2

You frowned at the check your boss had handed you.

Too little. You looked at your boss, a nervous smile on your lips as a laugh bubbled out of your throat ”haha this is half of what i should be getting. That’s funny, where's the rest? Am i getting that in cash or some?” Your boss laughed “HA! No thats what you’re getting for the week‘

Your eyes damn near popped out of your head.

For the week?

This was your pay for the entire week?

Oh hell no!

You poked a finger into the mans chest “What?! The whole week? I’ve been singing my ass off in this shit hole for two weeks! Where are my commissions?” You were angry!

He gave a low laugh as he pulled out a cigar ”You think just because you’re my best in this joint that I wasn’t gonna get the Final Cut? You better take it before i hand your ass nothing”

You sniffled as you wiped at your runny nose.

The yellow paper with EVICTION stared at you as you felt another wave of tear hit you.

Why?

Why couldn’t you just make enough to stay afloat?

Why did you have to suffer?

Why didn’t fate grant you mercy?

You had been busting your ass for months trying to make enough money to just pay the damn pills.

You were the best singer on your side of town and that shit hole needed a singer almost every night and when big shots went there. The money wasn’t terrible, it beat standing out on the pier at night, waiting to be taken to gods know where.

You laughed dryly, you would gladly get pimped out if it meant that you could still afford food to eat.

Why was life so cruel?

You had worked so hard and it felt like it was all for nothing.

You could hear your momma in your head

”You wanna dream big? Then never let life beat you down. Take it by the balls and make your dream a reality”

The next thing you know, you found yourself pulling out your mother’s old grimoire and drawing symbols on your bedroom floor.

what the hell were you doing?

You used to scoff at your mother when she did spells.

Because magic wasn’t real…right?

But it felt like you had no other option as you threw some herbs into the small fire pot.

Momma used to tell you about all types of things that were possible with a little magic. That you always had friends on the other side who could help if you knew what you doing.

And you indeed had no fucking clue.

But you were tired, angry, and desperate and wanted to do something about it.

This was your life!

You felt your body tingle as you chanted the incantation.

The room turned cold and the fire from the candles blew out. The building started to shake as you spoke the last verse and suddenly you were thrown back from an explosion in the middle of your pentagram.

You watched in terror as the floor glowed red and rising from the smoke was a very large demon.

You panicked as it began to stand, gulping at its full height.

Oh what did you just do?

—————————————————

Alastor blinked as he stood. Fanning the smoke away from his face, he grimaced once he saw the pentagram, candles, and herbs. Who dared? His ears perked at the sound of heavy breathing. He turned his head and red eyes caught sight of a mortal woman standing against the wall, eyes wide.

He took a step towards her, head tilting as she cowered away. He huffed as he got to the edge of the protection boundary. He gave her a smile, sharp teeth glistening with narrowed eyes

“Hello my dear”

——————————————————————

You took in the tall demon that stood in your bedroom.

He was dressed like one of those fancy gents.

Red and black tailored suit with a cane.

You watched as he curled his lip when he saw your protection boundary. You felt your body freeze as his eyes met yours.

Red.

Glowing red.

He was rather handsome looking for a demon.

He reminded you of-

“Deer” you squeaked, causing Alastor to tilt his head, ears flicking.

oh come on! You can’t be scared of something that you’re in control of!

”Hello my dear” you heard him say. He stood on the cusp of the salt boundary giving you his full attention.

That smile of his was very uncanny.

You shivered.

You found your nerves and puffed your chest out

”Hello demon-sir”

”Alastor” you blinked at him “w-what?”

He never lost that smile “The names Alastor. Pleasure to meet you” you were at a lost for words. Alastor took your silence to look around, your spellbook caught in his attention before he took you in.

You cleared your throat “I summoned-” “conjured” “You to um make a deal?” You said uncertain

Alastor smirked “oh reallly? And what makes you think Ill make a deal with a human like you?”

You frowned ”You don’t have a choice! I summoned YOU here you have to do what I ask!’

He laughed darkly “Oh my dear that isn’t how things work” he looked back at the salt ”lets chat”

You didn’t trust him, but he seemed friendly girl don’t do it

you inched close and with a sweep of your foot, dusted a bit of the salt to let him through.

Alastor stepped through and now you were being towered over.

Alastor took you in.

what a small thing you were. He was sure you had no idea what you were doing or dealing with.

But if it was deal you wanted, he will grant that.

”What do you want?”

You wrung your hands nervously as you spilled your sad excuse of a life and your far fetched dream.

You felt a surge of determination as you finished your little rant “That’s why I need a deal! I deserve to rise to the top! I’ve worked my ass off for years and nothing! Why-Why should I settle for this? My life deserved to be full of glamor and money! I deserve that right? Right! S-s-so what do you say”

Oh what an innocent thing you were.

Such a fire that had nowhere to burn.

Perfect

Alastor feigned mulling it over, your face dropping as he walked away from you.

”A deal works both ways my dear”he started as he turned back to you “What will you give me in return?” His smile stretched across his face as his calm facade faded.

You gulped but you were not gonna back out “Ill give you anything j-just please I don’t care what I have to do!”

He was in front of you in a flash, making you take a step back nervously

“Anything?” A clawed hand squished your cheeks hard as he leaned his face to yours

”prove it” he purred

You blinked. How the hell were you suppose to do that?

Nothing in this world is free. Your momma taught you that and your warning bells were screaming.

His thumbs was running over your lips and you opened your mouth to suck it.

You could die right now. Was this worth it? To give up your dignity to a demon?

Alastor growled and in a swift motion, you were on your bedroom floor, heart thumping in your ears as you looked up at the demon on top of you.

Alastor’s free hand swiped down your body, tearing your clothes to shreds, leaving you naked.

You felt a soft heat curl in your stomach.

Alastor laughed darkly as he took in your naked form. His hand dipped down and thumbed at the small bundle of nerves, causing you to jolt.

Oh he was going to have fun with you

”One year.” He said as he dipped a finger into your tight heat.

You gasped around his finger.

”You’ll get your fame. You’ll have riches and power beyond your imagination. A top star. It’ll all be yours. But in one year you are mine. Your soul and body. Do we have a deal?” He was slowly fingering you, relishing in the softness your cunt offered as it squeezed around him.

Your body and soul in exchange for glory.

Did you still want this?

”yes” you whimpered

A green glow emitted around the two of you. Alastor eyes glowed and his antlers grew as he plucked his thumb from your mouth and slammed his lips onto yours as he rubbed your clit as he slammed his fingers into you.

”mmmhmm hmmm!’ You cried into his mouth as your orgasm hit you.

Your cunt clenched around him, creamy slick drowning his hand.

Your body buzzed as he retracted his fingers, watching in bliss as he licked your cum off his fingers.

”Oooh such a sweet cunt” He Purred at you as he scooped you up into his arms to lay you on your bed.

”Ill always keep close watch my dear, so don’t think you can back out of this” he said, you blinked sleepily as you felt the coldness of a necklace clasped around your neck.

“One year my dear”

Your world faded to black.

pt 2 coming soon..hehehe

@thewinchestah @catherine1206 @stygianoir @jellibean2018 @markster666 @strawberrypimp666 @3verlark @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @alastwhore666 @gojosaturos-wife @tojirights @polytheatrix @dennsfz @horrorartsworld @prosciuttosblog @yourdoorisunlocked @dievia3 @alastorsdarling @t0byisher3 @mneferta @purplecatsandhearts @alishii @okay-babe @danveration @absurd-ash @peachedtv @simphornies @fatnug @alastorsdear @alastwhore666 @stawberrypimpsimp @altruisticalastor @queenariesofnarnia @scaramoochiie @rradio-static @someonethatsnotimportantplshelp @squeekycheesecurd @squixythebee @catmunist @lbcreations-blog @coleisyn @bratty2bunny @v0xsw1fe @alstorloml @fizzled-phoenix @siiv3r @k1y0yo @yunimimii @wisteria-seal @kassa-stardust

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim #alastor x y/n #alastor smut #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut

1K notes · View notes

pandora-writes-one-piece · 6 months ago

Text

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 5

Source for pic

Trouble 5

Word Count: 4660

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Dead Animals Mentioned; Reader in a terror-like state; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: Ohhhh, we about to start shaking things up by the next chapter! I'm so freaking excited!!! I hope you like this one, tell me all about it!

Masterlist

“Wow.” When Nami said yacht, you thought of one of those sleek, modern-looking boats. Not a pirate ship lookalike. “This is cool.” You state, still in awe at the monstrous ship you're staring at.

“It's suuuuuuper cool!” Franky exclaims, more excited than anyone on the dock, and you can't help but agree with him.

The ‘few people’ Nami mentioned are definitely more than twenty - you stop counting - but you recognize some of them: school friends or some neighboring kids from growing up. Others are Franky’s coworkers and buddies, and then there's an array of people that are friends of a friend.

Anybody who's anybody wants to be at Franky’s party.

And Zoro’s going to be late.

You sigh, taking the steps on the plank that leads up to the ship's deck as Nami shoulder-bumps you. “He'll be here, love.” Vivi stifles a giggle when you groan in embarrassment at being caught. You don't even pretend to be thinking about something else, it's all futile with these girls. “In the meantime, let's get you some liquid courage so you can loosen up when he gets here.”

-*-

Zoro had a terrible shift. He hates doing paperwork. It's all so utterly boring. But Captain Mihawk is always grinding him, so he needs to file his reports or he risks getting on the Captain’s bad side. And that's something Zoro would like to avoid if possible. He’s pushed Mihawk’s buttons more than once.

He doesn't want to go back to traffic control.

Still, even though what he wished for most at this moment was to pop a cold one, prop his feet on the coffee table, and pretend to watch something on TV until his eyelids drooped down from exhaustion, he's rowing a freaking tiny boat, to get to a huge freaking ship, to attend Franky’s freaking party.

Just because you're there.

And he freaking wants to spend time with you.

Even though he's arriving at the party two and a half hours late - who the fuck changed the road to get to the dock? - just so he can see you.

Fucking heart.

With a grunt and a final sigh, he stops the boat near Franky’s ship and uses the ladder his friend left for him to climb aboard. Much like a freaking pirate.

Then, after a few ‘hellos’ to familiar faces, he makes his way to the bar to grab that cold beer he was craving before settling against the railing on the upper deck to get a good view of the party.

He won't even pretend that he's not looking for you. It's exactly what he's doing.

Somehow, his eye zeroes in on you in a split second. And it's not only because of the fact that he always finds you but because you are attracting attention to yourself. And not only because of the insane flailing of arms you're doing - is that supposed to be dancing? - or because of the way your laughter echoes around the deck. It's not even because you look effortlessly gorgeous in your outfit.

It's because you're magnetic.

Your simple presence commands the attention of everyone around you. Men and women alike, but the dudes feel bolder. They smirk and wink, they brush their arms against you and whisper words your way. You brush them all off, turning your attention to Nami and Vivi, but some are persistent. They linger near you, revelling in any bit of attention you care to give them.

And it's making Zoro feel insanely jealous.

Also, the fact that you're absolutely wasted doesn't help with your naturally clumsy disposition, so it's only a matter of time before you face-plant the grassed deck of Franky’s ship.

That, or the idiot following you around like a puppy dog catches you with his filthy mitts, and Zoro is forced to throw hands.

Which he can't. Because he's a cop.

“So, I’ve got you all figured out, Roronoa…” Zoro smirks, already anticipating the teasing that’s bound to come, and he turns his attention to his friend.

“I don’t know what you mean, Nico.”

Robin chuckles against her wine glass and tilts her head your way. Zoro follows her gaze and can’t help the involuntary way his lips purse as a growl threatens to escape them. The idiot near you is still trying to get your attention.

“You don’t? Well, it’s quite simple, really, I’ve read it a million times. We follow the lovable female protagonist around, watching as she slowly falls for the male main character, revelling in the little things he does for her… like protecting her…”

Zoro’s eye twitches at the same time you swat the idiot’s hand away from your waist.

“And then comes the male character’s POV… and you know what we find out?”

Zoro sighs, his patience wearing thin and ready to snap. “Do tell me.”

“That he fell first. And waaaay harder. It’s quite endearing.”

The beer tastes more bitter than it should as he chugs it down and places the bottle on a nearby tray. “Meaning?”

“Act on it, dummy. Or are you going to wait forever?”

Zoro’s eye never leaves you. His jaw moves as if he’s weighing his options. Then he releases a heavy sigh. “Fuck it.”

So, clenching his jaw and muttering more curse words, Zoro heads downstairs.

Just in time to see Nami slipping you another colorful drink. One mystery solved, Nami is the one that got you shit-faced.

You thank Nami with a smile, but as you turn on your heel, you slip - obviously - and the fucking idiot dares to steady you by the waist. A growl climbs up Zoro's throat, but before he reaches you, you're thanking the man and moving away from his grip. And then your eyes light up as you see Zoro approach, a huge smile replacing the fake one you used for the asshole, and Zoro smirks, his jealousy suddenly gone.

“Zo! Finally!” Fuck. He gets all weak in the fucking knees when you call him that. Who's the idiot now?

“Hey, Troublemaker, making trouble?”

“Yes!” You giggle and sway your way closer to him, so he steadies you by the upper arm, ignoring how touching you just makes him want to touch you more. “I'm so drunk!”

“I can see that. Thank you, Nami.” Zoro turns to Nami, who beams and raises her own glass in a mock salute.

“Oh, right! Thank you, Nami!” You say, and Zoro shakes his head in amusement.

“Don't thank her, Trouble.” You giggle, and he sighs. “So, am I stuck babysitting you again? I don't suppose drunk you is easier to babysit than normal clumsy you?” It doesn't matter how annoyed he may sound. He doesn't mind babysitting you.

“What? I resent that, Officer.” You giggle and stumble on your feet as he drags you away from the dance floor and herds you to a lounge chair.

“Sit. I'll get you some water.”

“Nooooo!” Your nails bite into his arm as you cling to him, and the way your scent envelops him with the proximity almost makes him stagger. “You just got here, don't leave me already. I want to spend time with you!”

Zoro groans as his heart skips a fucking beat. What the hell?

“I'm just getting you some water.”

“But I already have a drink!” You raise your glass, and half of its contents spill to the floor, missing your clothes by inches, though you barely notice it.

“I see that.” Zoro reaches and removes the glass from your hand, ignoring your protests and forcing you to sit down. “But I'm going to sober you up before you hurt yourself, okay?” He points to the bar that's just a few steps away. “I'll be right there.”

“Boo!! Party pooper!”

Zoro runs a hand over his face. He doesn't mind babysitting you at all. But he needs to keep his fucking heart in check. It doesn’t help that Robin was right.

He fell first.

He fell harder.

He just doesn’t know if you fell too…

-*-

You didn’t know being on a ship could feel so dizzying. But it’s as if the boat is shaking harder with every step you take.

It can't be all the drinks you've had, can it? How many have you had? It's hard to keep count when Nami keeps shoving them into your hand.

She said something about liquid courage, right? What did you need that for, anyway?

With a heavy sigh, you watch Zoro leaning against the bar to ask for a water bottle. It had something to do with that green-haired doofus who makes your heart go wild. You're sure about that.

“Hey, gorgeous. Can we finish our dance?” Rob Lucci, one of Franky’s coworkers who you’ve met earlier sits near you, wearing a lopsided smirk, and you raise your brow. What does he mean by ‘finish your dance’? You were dancing with Nami…

“Beat it.” Zoro's grunt saves you from any kind of answer, but Lucci simply scowls at him. You can see Zoro's jaw twitching, and you realise how handsome he really is. “Scram, man, leave.”

Lucci stares at you one more time, but seeing as you don't say anything to keep him there, he calls it quits and disappears just as Zoro hands you the bottle and sits next to you, muttering something you can't discern through his teeth.

“Drink.” He orders you, and you squint your eyes, trying to look menacing.

“You're not the boss of me.”

A heavy sigh parts his lips as he closes his eye to keep it from twitching in annoyance. “Can you please drink some water?”

Your smirk gets lost against the rim of the bottle as you comply. After a few sips, you set the bottle aside, your smirk still in place.

“You know what I've just realised?” Zoro opens his mouth to answer but you don't even let him. “You're a really handsome man.” Zoro's reaction is priceless. The tips of his ears turn pink as he opens and closes his mouth, at a loss for words, for once. “Look at that jawline… and your piercing eye? What the hell happened to the other one? You didn't have that scar when I left…”

Once more, he opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt him. “Hey! I'm not complaining, it gives you a dangerous look. Unattainable. Scary. Like… Like a big dog.” You smirk at his dumbfounded expression. “All bark and no bite, though. Like a… Golden Retriever! Oh, no. Those are cute…”

“Oi, Trouble, I'm only going to let this slide because you're wasted.” Zoro's ears are still red, and the way he's getting flustered is fuel to your fire.

“I am.” A devious giggle leaves your lips as you continue to tease him. “And look at these muscles…” His bicep feels like hard rock as you wrap your fingers around it. “So firm and…”

Shit.

“I bet you could pin me easily.”

Shit. You should just stop.

Zoro's eye widens, and you feel his arm tremble slightly against your grip.

“I mean… With these muscles? Imagine that, Zo, you could pin me against a wall, trap my wrists with just one hand–”

“Stop talking–”

“... and I wouldn't even be able to move a muscle. You could press yourself against me and–”

“Trouble, stop talking.”

You should. Where's your filter?

“... I wouldn't even be able to wiggle out of your hold, I mean, you're really strong!”

Zoro closes his eye, one hand running over his face as he takes a deep breath.

“Are you imagining it?” Your question is innocent, but Zoro's red face confirms it without him needing to answer it. “Zoro?” He looks at you, brow furrowed in concentration, and you can almost see how he's trying to focus his gaze in your eyes and not on your lips. “Kiss me.”

Shit.

-*-

You're trying to kill him.

That's the only explanation he can come up with. Why else would you be saying these things?

Pin you? Fuck! The way that image is now running through his head is more dizzying than any alcoholic beverage.

“Kiss me, Zo!” You try again, and it's only proof his hearing is more than fine. It takes him a beat to find his voice, and when he does, it's raspy and affected.

“You're drunk.”

“We've established that already. Now kiss me.” You shuffle closer to him, and he gets up abruptly, taking two steps back and leaning on the balustrade of the ship, hoping the crisp, tangy ocean air cools him down.

“No.”

He answers, and you also get up, swaying on your unsteady legs and sauntering over to him, reaching your hands against his chest to steady yourself.

A groan leaves his lips as his hand instinctively holds you by the waist to help you stand still.

“Zo…”

“Trouble…”

You lock eyes with him for a second before he feels your fingers probing his chest muscles.

“I mean… They feel rock hard! How do you do this?”

Zoro sighs. Fuck. He's barely holding on to his sanity as it is.

“I work out. You should drink more water.”

“No. Kiss me.”

“You're drunk.”

You stamp your foot against the deck, and that gesture should be childish and immature, not cute!

“I know! Kiss me.” The way you dig your nails against his chest through his shirt makes his brain consider how they would feel running across his naked skin. So, he closes his eye and takes a deep, steadying breath.

“You'll regret it in the morning. You're drunk.”

Has he said that enough?

“Someone very wise once said that drunken words are sober thoughts.” You quip at him with a very proud smile and a hand landing on your hips.

His lip twitches upwards, and he lets out a small chuckle. “Nami says that.”

“You can't deny she's wise beyond her years.” You smirk, and he chuckles harder.

Then someone bumps into you and you stumble against Zoro, who steadies you and tries to scowl at the asshole who wasn't careful but he's long gone. And now you're staring right at his lips, a wistful look in your eyes.

“Kiss me.”

He wants to say no. He should say no. You're drunk. You'll both regret it if your first kiss happens like this.

But it's so tempting.

Just say no, idiot.

“I'll kiss you when you sober up.”

Close enough.

“But I want it now.”

Fuck.

“What's going on, here?” Nami's mischievous voice comes out like a lifeline on Zoro's sinking ship.

“Oh, thank God!” He groans.

“Zoro is being mean!” You pout, and Nami laughs. “He doesn't want to kiss me!”

Is there a shovel that Zoro can use to dig a hole in the ground? Would Franky be too upset if he broke a few boards to just… disappear?

“He doesn't want to kiss you?” Nami gives him the stink-eye, though laced with heavy amusement, and Zoro lets out a low growl.

“She's drunk.”

“Drunken words are sober thoughts!” Nami quips back, and you gasp, holding her arm and pointing at Zoro in accusation.

“That's what I told him! And he still won't kiss me!”

Nami laces one arm with yours and tugs you to her side, the curve of her lips lifting upwards while she stares at Zoro.

“It's alright, sweetie. If big, bad, meanie Zoro won't kiss you, I'm sure we can find someone who will.” What the hell is Nami playing at? “I know Sanji is all gentlemanly-like, but we can see if he kisses you, how about that?”

The low growl that leaves Zoro's lips sounds foreign, even to him. But the thought of the cook, no, the thought of any other man daring to kiss you is enough to make him seethe. His grip on your waist tightens, and he pulls you closer.

“She's fine right here.” He warns Nami, trying to convey that her joke is not funny with his actions alone.

“But she wants a kiss, Zoro.”

“Leave it, Witch.”

“I don't want Sanji's kiss, though, I want Zoro's.” Zoro will not admit to anyone how your words made warmth spread through his chest, but he's sure Nami can see the faint tinge of pink on his cheeks and ears, judging from the way she cackles.

“I know, sweetie, I know you do.” She shoves another water bottle in your hand and giggles, clearly a bit inebriated herself. “Keep drinking this, then. The liquid courage worked, now sober up and the grumpy man will give you that kiss.”

What the hell is Nami talking about?

“Everyone, look up in the sky!”

-*-

All the urge to get kissed by Zoro vanishes with Usopp’s plea. Turning your head upwards and fighting vertigo, you witness in awe as a different array of fireworks explodes in the sky, casting bright colours above the ship.

“Zo…” You whisper, hoping he's finding the view as magnificent as you are. “Are you seeing this?”

“Yes, Trouble, it's… beautiful.”

You don't quite know why his voice sounds so raw and vulnerable, but the one second you take your eyes away from the sky, you swear you find him staring at you before looking back up.

But another loud bang distracts your thoughts, and you pat your pocket to try and find your phone.

“It really is. I need a video of this.” You can't find your phone anywhere, you're sure you placed it in your pocket… Maybe the other one?

Nothing.

Then someone bumps into you again, making you hit the balustrade with a small yelp. You hear Zoro grumble and yell at the person who hit you, but he decides to check on you instead of following them.

Another beautiful blast in the sky steals your attention, and this time you do find your phone. In the exact pocket you were searching for it.

Strange.

Or not, since you're absolutely wasted.

You finally get your video. Zoro hovers near you because you keep leaning on the railing to try and get a good angle, and you're pretty sure you're giving him a small apoplexy every time you do that.

Afterwards, you keep sipping your water, but Nami drags you to more dancing and partying, though you notice Zoro still watching your every move, probably making sure you don’t hurt yourself, nothing else.

After a while, you gravitate towards him again, a smile plastered on your lips and still with a sway to your step. You're still drunk.

But before you say anything, Lucci, who was dancing near you again, follows you, grabbing you by the upper arm to turn you towards him. You sway more than you should and register a low growl behind you before he smiles at you.

“Hey, gorgeous, want to grab a few more drinks now? I hear this ship’s got some bunks somewhere, maybe we–”

“I thought I told you to scram, Lucci. She's taken.”

You feel heat blooming in your cheeks as Zoro's gravelly voice rings near your ears. His hand rests on your waist as he pulls you back towards him, and you feel Rob Lucci's fingers lose their grip around your arm.

“Woah, man, sorry, I didn't know. Thought you were just friends...” Zoro mumbles something between his breath as Lucci retreats, though his fingers still grip you tightly.

“Taken?” You grin, turning around to face him with a raised brow, your hands finding purchase against his forearms.

“Well, yeah.” Zoro looks away from your eyes, and you see his throat bobbing up and down. “Figured it was the fastest way to send him on his way.”

“Oh, so it was mere convenience?”

Zoro opens and closes his mouth, but then a giggle escapes your lips as you sway some more, gripping him tightly.

“You're still drunk, so yeah, we can call it convenience.”

“You're so grumpy, Officer.” He sighs and shoves another water bottle in your hands. “Ohhhh, do you have your handcuffs with you?” A mischievous grin splits your lips and Zoro grabs hold of Robin's arm, who happens to be strolling by.

“Nico, take over. I can't deal with this conversation right now.” He says, exasperated as you open your mouth in shock.

“Heeeeey! Come on, Zo, I was just teasing!”

But he's already asking Robin to keep an eye on you as he disappears into the crowd.

“What did you tell him? What scared off Roronoa Zoro?” She asks, amused, and you chuckle but don't answer. Maybe your filter is returning?

-*-

The party lasts long into the middle of the night, and by the time the ship docks, you're already sobered up, though your steps are still wobbly and uncoordinated. Zoro offers to take you home, since you rode with Robin, and you just nod at him, too mortified to try and utter a full sentence his way.

Maybe he won't bring up the way you blatantly threw yourself at him. Is it too much to ask?

But it doesn't take him five minutes into the drive to start chuckling. You don't ask why he's amused, you know better than to walk right into that trap, yet he doesn't really wait for your curiosity to kick in.

“Why so quiet, Trouble? Are you reconsidering your life choices? Maybe silently vowing never to drink again? Or maybe to stop listening to Nami's advice?”

A groan is all you allow before you hide your face behind your hands. Yet, he's relentless in his teasing.

“You're a really handsome man, look at that jawline.” His impression of you is anything but accurate, yet it's enough to make your stomach churn. So you really said that to him, it wasn't just your imagination!

“Kiss me, Zo.”

Oh, God, that too? A desperate whine is all the sound you manage to make while wishing to disappear into the car seat.

“But my favourite? You could pin me easily.” He lets out another chuckle. “I wasn't expecting that, Trouble.”

“Please, please stop, Zoro. I'll never drink again, I swear.”

“Oh, I doubt that very much.” And then he laughs. A real laugh.

That is enough to make you leave the safety of your hands and stare at him, his lips still curled back, brows slightly scrunched, and an easy expression on his face.

“Was that a laugh?”

“What do you mean? I laugh all the time.”

Shaking your head, you turn fully to him, all previous mortification forgotten. “No. You chuckle, you smirk, and sometimes you snicker. You don't laugh.”

Silence surrounds you as he enters your driveway and parks the car in front of your porch. Then he makes eye contact with you, the semblance of a snicker still ghosting his lips. “Guess now I do.”

You barely have time to register what that could mean before you both exit the car. You're embarrassed at how Zoro has to steady you as you climb the steps because the world is still spinning, but at least you're of sound mind again, so no stupid words will leave your mouth now.

“Are you regretting the way you behaved, Trouble?”

You stop in front of your door, one hand playing with your keys as you take a deep breath.

“No. Not all of it, at least. Drunken words really are sober thoughts, I guess.” You whisper, making sure your eyes are locked with his and trying to ignore how your heart is thrumming against your chest.

“All of them?” Zoro's tone carries mischievousness in it, and you bite your lip to stifle a smirk.

“Yes.”

He takes a step forward, his hand brushing lightly against your waist, a place he touched so many times tonight, but not once did it burn like now.

“Are you sober now?” He lowers his voice as his eye lingers on your lips.

“I am.”

“Good.” Zoro leans in, head tilting slightly to the side. “Because I'm going to kiss you.”

You barely have time to let out a gasp before his lips touch yours. Your eyelids flutter shut, and just as you're about to reach for his neck and deepen the kiss–

Beep, beep, beep…

Your phone alarm starts blaring in your pocket, an obnoxious sound that disrupts the night - and the moment - making you both groan as you fall apart.

“Are you kidding me?” Zoro grumbles, though without any real bite to his words, and you fumble with the device, trying to make the annoying sound stop.

You finally manage to silence it, and you giggle nervously. “I'm sorry! I didn't set any alarm, my alarm sound isn't even this obnoxious, I don't know what happened and–”

Zoro tilts your chin up with his thumb and forefinger, a devious smirk on his lips as he leans down again. “Let's try this again, shall we?”

Your stomach flips, and butterflies take flight as your heart skips a beat.

But just as your lips brush together, his phone starts ringing.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He complains taking the phone out of his pocket, a frown on his lips as he sees the name. “It's the station, I need to answer this.” Then you witness his expression somber as he paces back a little.

Just like that, you know your moment is over, so you sigh as Zoro hangs up the call.

“It's an emergency at the station. I have to go.” You can actually see the annoyance in his face and the slight tinge of dissatisfaction in his eyes.

“Maybe we can finish this another night?” Perhaps there’s still some alcohol lingering in your blood, because that was very bold of you.

Zoro is already skipping down the steps, two at a time, but he stops near his car, leaning on the open door and smirking at you in the most devious way you’ve ever seen him.

“Trust me, Trouble, next time I won’t stop. Even if the world is ending.”

You’re still smiling giddily at his words when you enter your home and lock the door. You can’t wait for what happens next.

-*-

Zoro lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head, trying to clear his mind. Setting his phone in its holder, he dials Captain Mihawk’s number and sets it to speaker.

“Roronoa.” Mihawk’s gravelly voice answers after one ring.

“Someone took out his eyes? What the fuck?” Zoro still can’t believe what he heard earlier.

“We don’t know much yet. They had to perform urgent surgery on him. We’ll know more when he wakes up.”

Zoro’s foot presses down on the pedal, still riding under the limit, but barely. “What kind of sick fuck would do that?”

“We don’t know. But there’s a possibility you saw him tonight. After all, it happened at your friend’s boat party.”

Fuck.

“Where’d you find him?”

“A dock worker found him. Wrists bound, eye sockets empty, in shock.” Mihawk’s voice is curt and methodical, a voice of someone accustomed to gruelling murders and grizzly stories. After all, he’d spent far too long in the big city and seen too much.

“Anything else?”

“A note.” A clue. “Pinned to his chest with a nail. It said: ‘She’s mine.’ Nothing else. We’re still running it for prints or other evidence. Sounds like a crime of passion, jealousy, possession, perhaps?”

Zoro’s teeth grind together. Something feels fishy about all of this. Something he can’t quite put his finger on. A crime of passion seems far too simple…

“Sounds like it. I’m about to pull up, talk soon.”

His heart constricts as he thinks of you. It might be just a coincidence, it has to be just a coincidence… What are the odds, really? What happened can’t have anything to do with you… Still…

After spending the night following you around like a puppy, Rob Lucci is found hurt, maimed, with his eyeballs missing?

Zoro releases a heavy sigh and shakes his head again. Maybe he’s reading too much into everything. You’re safe. And he’ll make sure you stay that way.

That’s all there is to it.

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22

|Chapter 6|

#one piece #one piece x reader #the meet cute #roronoa zoro x reader #reader x roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x you #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x you #you x zoro #zoro x reader #reader x zoro #reader insert

148 notes · View notes

two-bit-too-high · 6 months ago

Note

Lost boys with a mate/pack member that has a rbf (resting bitch face) and is touch starved but love touch and when they cuddle in the nest she falls asleep with a smile and- OAMXOAMAOMWJ ITS SO FLUFFF IM SORRYYY LMAO

A/N I did a another one! Yipeee! Please enjoy! As always please send in any more ideas.

The Lost boys x Reader with resting bitch face

☁️ pure fluff

⚠️ Warnings: none except my possibly god awful spelling and grammar.

Enjoy

It's cold in the cave, cold enough that if you weren't a vampire you would probably fall into a coma.you were sitting on one of the large lounge chairs that the boys had found a few weeks ago warped in a big quilted blanket reading with a mason jar of blood on the nightstand next to you a vampic hot chocolate if you will .When a certain blonde pops up in front of you.

“Oh hello Marko” you say not looking up from your book “hello my bleeding rose” Marko says in a quiet voice he himself was warped in a blanket to keep out some of the cold “is everything ok” you ask is due to the face he as his puppy eyes on he only uses those when he is in Trouble or if he wanted something. “Are you mad at me?” he asked, “Mad at you?” you replied “no I ain't mad at you all” you add “oh well you just looked really upset and I was...I was worried I had done something to make you mad” he says still with his puppy eyes on full display “no not at all Marko your fine” you says while unwrapping the blanket from around yourself to invite him into the warm this is one invitation he expects immediately jumping up into the big lounge with you cuddling under the covers and up to you. As you sat there in silence your Mind started to wonder why on earth did he think you were mad at him.

Later In the night you were in the small kitchen that was just off the main cave area where Marko was sleeping in the big chair still warped in the blankets.when You ran into David who was making yet again another Blood and whisky in the glass that only he is allowed to use. You were Minding your own when David spoke up “what's got you in a twist darling” “huh” you replied “you look mad or something is Paul getting on your nerves again” he continues “no I'm fine” you say you stop washing your cup and look up at him “I ain't mad or upset” you add “okay then” he said as he disappeared back into the cave whisky glass in hand leaving you in the kitchen to once again wonder what on earth is going on.

An hour went by and you ended sitting in the rafters watching Paul play his guitar. You had found another blanket and was now just staring into space thinking. “Woah babe you look pissed” says as he looks up from his guitar “I do?” you replied “yeah like someone cut all ya guitar strings or stolen your feed” he says as he keeps plucking at his guitar “I ain't upset” you say you had started to play around with a loose coil of guitar string. Paul hums “well you certainly look it” he adds before going back to his music leaving you in the mental dust.

“Alright everyone, time to pack it in for the night” yelled out David at about 5:30am and like clockwork everyone started to file into the nesting room. Like always you in the middle and David and Dwyane to your right and then Marko and Paul to your left. “Did you have a bad night honey” asked Dwyane as he cuddled up to your side “no!” You say loudly “oh my god why does everyone keep saying that!” You add “because you look like it,love” says Dwyane “what do you mean!” You add “seems you have a case of resting bitch face babe” says Paul “oh that's just great” you said as you nuzzle into Dwyane’s chest. “Well a public service announcement if I look pissed off I'm probably not so stop worrying about it” you say.”noted” they all say in unison.

One by one you all fell asleep under several different blankets and as you did you had a smile on your face thankful that you had finally figured out why on earth you kept getting all those questions.

Hope y'all enjoyed it :)

#the lost boys #the lost boys fanfiction #tlb fanfic #tlb 1987 #paul tlb #marko tlb #david tlb #dwayne tlb #david x reader #marko x reader #paul x reader #dwayne x reader #the lost boys x reader

173 notes · View notes

thisapplepielife · 2 months ago

Text

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest Where the Wild Things Are pop-up event.

Not In His Nature

Where the Wild Things Are Pop-Up | Word Count: 3000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Recovering From Injuries | POV: Eddie | Relationship(s): Steddie, Eddie & Corroded Coffin, Steve & Dustin | Tags: Bigfoot Eddie, Steve "I've Got Latent Monsterfucker Tendencies" Harrington, Mix and Match and Made Up Lore, Hawkins is Fucking Weird, We All Know That, Canon Divergence, Set Between S3 & S4

Also on ao3.

Note: Hopper didn't end up in Russia at the end of S3. Is this important to the story? Absolutely not. But I wrote him into this and then thought, well, shit. He shouldn't even be in Hawkins. So, canon divergence it is, lol.

Eddie hurts. It feels like he's been hit by a Mack Truck. He tries to focus, open his eyes, because he thinks he's in the road, yellow lines under his face. Goddamn. He was hit by a truck. He tries to take stock of how hurt he is.

It's pretty bad, he thinks. He feels heavy. Too heavy to move.

He can't get up. Instead, he focuses on whatever's going on around him. He can hear voices, and he tries to hone in on them. He's pretty sure it's Steve Harrington fighting with Dustin Henderson, getting more shrill by the minute. Harrington shouldn't be picking on one of his new sheepies.

Eddie tries to say something, but it comes out in a warbled yowl.

Shit. Fuck.

He's changed. Turned. This isn't good. This isn't good at all.

Harrington and Henderson turn their attention towards him, Dustin shouting, "See! I told you it wasn't dead!"

"How was I supposed to know? It looked dead. It looked like a dead bear!" Harrington screams, clearly annoyed. Eddie blinks, and Steve leans down, meeting his eye.

"Have you ever seen a bear? That's not a bear!"

"Excuse me, I'm not the one that thought a fucking demogorgon was a tadpole!"

"Just keep bringing that up, why don't you? And Dart was a demodog. Not a demogorgon. Do you even know the difference?"

"Of course I know the difference! I'm the one that's fought off both to save you little shitheads. In case you've forgotten. You're welcome, by the way. I never get any credit for—"

Eddie groans again.

"—shut up, Steve! You're pissing it off!"

Eddie isn't pissed off, but they aren't making sense. He's definitely brain damaged from getting hit by that stupid BMW. He groans, opens an eye, and finds Steve looking back at him.

"It's a monster. Look at it! This is not a goddamn bear," Steve snaps, and they're holding eye contact. Steve's looking right at him.

"I never said it was a bear — you did!"

"It's looking at me like it understands what I'm saying. Hello? Do you know what I'm saying?!" Steve asks, voice getting louder.

"It doesn't know what you're saying, Steve," Henderson snarks, "It's a wild animal, not a monster from the Upside Down. Do you see a face full of teeth? I don't see that, do you, Steve? But whatever it is, you should get away from it. It looks like it might try to kill you, and I've seen you fight."

"Should we shoot it? Call Nancy? Have her shoot it? Put it out of its misery?" Steve questions, and he has a nail-studded bat in his hand. Eddie doesn't want to get shot or beaten to death by Steve Harrington wielding a baseball bat. He tries to get up, tries to run away. But he can't move.

Steve reaches out and touches his face, and Eddie leans into it.

Then, the spell is broken. Eddie hears the car before he sees it, tires squealing as it stops, not far from him, doors creaking open, and then slamming shut.

Steve stands, leaving him.

"Hey! Asshole! Back off!"

Gareth. Jesus H. Christ, thank you.

Eddie sees his furious hand reach out, all temper, and no concern that Steve Harrington is bigger and older, as he wacks the bat out of Steve's hand, sending it clattering to the asphalt.

"Leave it alone!"

"What the hell, Gareth?" Henderson asks. "What is that thing?"

"A bear," Goodie answers, close to Eddie's face. He's trying to lift him off the pavement with Jeff's assistance, but they aren't making much progress. Eddie tries to sit up, but he's not much help.

"Our pet bear," Jeff says.

Gareth says, "We're raising it to sell to a circus…"

Just as Goodie says, "...it's our 4-H project."

Both of them seem hellbent on digging this hole deeper and deeper, one stupid lie at a time. Eddie groans. Selling him to a circus? 4-H? Bear? Why don't they just tell them it's him, if they're gonna be so goddamn obvious.

"That's not a bear," Harrington argues, "it's a…Bigfoot. It's a Bigfoot! Right?!" he shouts, sounding more confident the further he gets into his thought.

"It's not a Bigfoot," Jeff answers. Calm. Cool. Collected. The only one that isn't acting crazy and making the situation worse.

"Whatever it is, it fucked up my car!" Steve Harrington yells, waving towards the front end, which is definitely dented in. Eddie can't feel too bad about it, it was him that got hit by these two nitwits.

"Well, fucking help us and we'll get out of your hair!" Gareth snaps.

Between the five of them, they get him loaded into the back of the El Camino, and Eddie feels it groan and sink lower under his weight.

Jeff climbs in the back, Gareth and Goodie getting back up front, pulling away.

Gareth steps on it, and Jeff thumps the glass, "Slow down!"

He does, and they ease along the highway, the wind ruffling his fur.

"How hurt are you?" Jeff asks, hand on his shoulder.

Hurt, but not dying he doesn't think. He has no way to answer, but he grunts and shifts, laying his head in Jeff's lap. He strokes Eddie's forehead, "It's okay. You're alright. You just can't run off like that."

Eddie knows. He does.

It takes a while, but they make it out to Reefer Rick's, and they pull right up to the boathouse. Eddie supposes this is a good enough place to hideout until he shifts back, hopefully by morning.

When Eddie wakes up, he's sore, and naked on the filthy floor of the boathouse. But he's himself again.

"You alive?" Gareth asks, and Eddie nods. At least he thinks he is.

"Sore," Eddie croaks, throat dry.

Jeff hands over a canteen of water, and Eddie drains it.

"Can you get up?" Jeff asks, and Eddie isn't sure.

He steadies his hand on Goodie's shoulder, and steps into his boxers, then his jeans. He can't lift his arms high enough to put on a t-shirt, so Gareth sheds his outer plaid shirt, and Eddie is buttoned into it.

"Do you remember what happened last night?" Jeff asks.

Bits and pieces, maybe. He shakes his head.

"You escaped like an asshole. Got hit by a car," Goodie snarks.

Henderson. Steve Harrington. He remembers.

"Steve Harrington hit me with his car," Eddie says, and Jeff's nodding.

"Do you think you have internal bleeding? We can take you to the hospital now that you're not all hairy. We couldn't last night, unless you wanted to go to the vet. And I don't think Doc Walden would know what to do with Sasquatch," Gareth rambles, and Eddie shakes his head. "Neuter you, maybe."

He laughs. He's okay. He thinks.

The drama room is being used for the school play, and that means Hellfire needs to be moved. Ending up on Cornwallis street, at Dustin Henderson's house wasn't what Eddie had planned for the night.

And he really didn't expect Steve Harrington to answer the door, and look him up and down, suspiciously.

"What the hell happened to you, Munson?" Steve asks, arms pulled tight across his chest.

"Fight," Eddie lies.

"You can barely walk," Steve argues, watching him struggle to step into the house, "that's a helluva a fight. And I've been beaten the fuck up."

Eddie doesn't know what to say: You hit me with your car, asshole?

He's sure that'd go over well.

So, he just shrugs and settles into the seat at the head of the Henderson's dining room table. His head is throbbing, they should have postponed this. But that's not in his nature. The show must go on.

He tries to get comfortable, shifting in the wooden chair, and tries to be entertaining. Tries to keep them invested in his new campaign, The Cult of Vecna, as it's just getting underway. He worked hard on this one, but he can't concentrate tonight.

Especially not with Steve Harrington hovering in the doorway, looking judgmental. Or concerned. Constipated? Something unpleasant, that's for sure.

The nausea hits him, hard and fast, and he pushes back from the table, no time to even make excuses.

Getting down on the floor to throw up hurts like fucking hell, and he's not exactly sure how he'll get back up again. Eventually one of them will come looking for him, he supposes.

He's pretty positive he'd dozed off, draped over the toilet, head resting on his arm on the seat, when the bathroom door opens and closes. Maybe they should have taken him to the hospital.

He expects it to be Gareth. Jeff. Goodie. Hell, even Henderson.

But it's Steve Harrington.

He squats down, and pushes Eddie's hair out of his face, "I hit you with my car, didn't I?"

Eddie nods. He's too sick to argue.

"Shit. Shit, sorry. I'm sorry."

"You didn't mean to, I was the one in the road," Eddie says, closing his eyes. If he'd just stayed put in Gareth's basement like he was supposed to, none of this would have happened. "You're not gonna tell anyone, are you?"

"No," Steve says, "I hit a deer."

Eddie reaches out and squeezes Steve's arm in thanks.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Eddie answers, "I'm always sick, after. I'm just sore on top of it tonight."

"Have you always been…this way?" Steve asks.

"Have I always been a freak?" Eddie asks, but smiles slightly, "Yeah. Just not this kind of freak. I think I got cursed."

Eddie expects Steve to argue, to not believe him, but he's nodding.

"It started happening last summer. After the Fourth of July. We played with a Ouija board, just messing around. And the mall burned down, and I ended up like this. It's not funny now."

"This town is so fucked," Steve says, and Eddie can't argue. "You didn't burn down the mall. Trust me. In fact, I'd bet that what happened out there that night somehow caused this, in some way."

That makes no sense.

"Why do I think you know more than you're letting on?" Eddie asks.

"I don't know anything. Not about your thing. But this town? It's got problems. Deep, dark problems. Trust me."

Eddie has a thousand questions he wants to ask, but Steve doesn't seem willing to give them right now.

He confirms that when he changes the subject, stating, "Take as long as you need, and then I'll get you out of here."

It takes twenty more minutes of sitting there, Steve Harrington just hanging out next to him, before he can be pulled to his feet.

Passing through the dining room, Steve stops, just briefly.

"I'm taking Eddie home, he has the flu," Steve announces, like that's a normal thing for him to say or do. Everybody sitting at the table is just staring, unblinking.

Steve doesn't take him home, at least not to Eddie's home, but to Steve's own. Steve had insisted a warm bath with Epsom salt would make him less sore. Eddie doesn't exactly think it'll help, but he's willing to try anything.

"Why are you doing this?" Eddie asks, leaning back against the tub, head resting against the tile.

"I hit you with my car," Steve says, then looks Eddie's way, "and because when I was hurt like this, I wish someone would have taken care of me, would have made sure I was okay. I wasn't okay," he admits, low and almost too soft to hear.

"Thanks, Harrington," Eddie says, and maybe he's been wrong about King Steve. Maybe he's a good dude with a bad rep. Eddie knows a little bit about that himself.

"And I kind of feel responsible. The mall thing? I was there for that."

Eddie nods, not fully understanding, but getting it all the same.

The next month, his friends are dragging him up to the front of Harrington's house, like he's some unruly pet dog that's about to pee on the carpet. He can't help that he's gonna turn, if he had a choice, he wouldn't do it.

"Can we put him in one of your seventeen garages? Before he changes?" Gareth asks.

Steve rolls his eyes, but opens the double doors, as if they're getting the grand welcome.

They lock themselves in, barricade the exits, the windows, and Eddie sits on the ground to wait.

It's happened, but he never remembers changing. Which is probably good, surely it's not pretty.

Tonight, Steve Harrington is peering down at him as he sits on the ground. Eddie looks up at him and smiles wide.

Steve laughs, and reaches out and pats Eddie on the head.

"What now?" Steve asks the room, as Eddie's friends just sit there.

"We wait? He's gonna be like this for about twenty-four hours," Jeff answers.

Eddie nudges his big fist into Steve's thigh, getting him to turn and look at him again. He does, and Eddie gives him another toothy grin.

"Stop flirting with Steve Harrington," Goodie says, and Eddie turns and gives him a dirty look, "I don't think your ugly ass is his type."

Steve laughs, and touches Eddie on the forehead, "Don't listen to him," Steve says, leaning close, "you're very cute."

Eddie makes a happy noise, and settles back against the wall. He doesn't even feel the urge to run away tonight. Not with Steve right here.

Another month gone, and the group of people who know about him has grown. Eddie just hopes letting them in on his secret will help him fix it for good. It took them all month to scheme up a plan, but now here they are, standing out behind the church at the witching hour, Nancy Wheeler holding a flashlight.

Changing doesn't happen during a full moon, he's not a werewolf. No, he turns every month on the same day they'd messed around with that damn thing in the first place.

"Okay. Now. Seven pieces," Nancy instructs and Eddie cuts the board while Steve holds it. How can something made by Hasbro actually hold any powers? It makes no sense.

Once they have their pieces, Robin holds out a vial of holy water. This all seems like a little much, but he does it, and then digs a deep hole in the consecrated ground, burying the pieces.

He hopes this works.

"Is this gonna work?" Wayne asks, as if he's reading Eddie's mind. When the trailer hadn't been enough to hold him, Gareth's basement had become the place. Which was hard, Mama Jones is cool, but Eddie wasn't sure she was Bigfoot in the basement cool.

He's not dangerous, he's never tried to hurt anybody, at least. But he's fucking mischievous, and the last time he went out roaming he got hit by Steve's car. He prefers not to repeat that process if he can help it.

So, they need to cage him tonight. To see if it worked.

The bad news: Steve's parents are home. So, this time he's willingly stepping into a solitary confinement cell at the jail, Jim Hopper holding the keys. Hopper said the less people that knew about him, the better, and Eddie knows that's true. He can't go around getting hit by cars. The next one might not be Harrington and Henderson, who incidentally, already had some deep experience with weird shit.

"I'll stay with him," Steve says, following Eddie through the door.

"Harrington," Hopper says, a warning.

"Eddie won't hurt him," Jeff says.

"Definitely not," Wayne agrees, "he's not violent. It's not in his nature."

"He didn't hurt me last time," Steve reassures.

Hopper shakes his head, but hands Steve a deck of cards, "If you get bored. If he tries to eat you, holler."

"Gee, thanks," Steve says, but takes the cards and sits on the plastic mattress on the ground in the corner.

When the door clangs shut, there are no bars, only a bean hole in the door for passing trays of food.

"How long until we know?" Steve asks.

"By morning," Eddie answers, "that first time, Wayne nearly took my head off with his shotgun. But he said he could tell it was me, by my eyes.

"I get that," Steve says, and Eddie feels the blush crawling up his neck, making him feel warm.

Steve looks at his watch, "The sun has to be up. It worked," he tells Eddie.

Eddie thinks it did, too.

Steve frowns.

"Well, don't look so sad about it," Eddie laughs, and Steve smiles over at him.

"I was just thinking, you were awfully cute and flirty. As a Bigfoot."

Eddie laughs, the sound echoing off the bare walls, "If you want me to flirt with you, Harrington, all you gotta do is ask."

Steve scoots closer, hoisting himself up onto his knees, hovering over Eddie. It feels familiar, but different, and Eddie grins up at him. Steve pats his head, just like he did when Eddie was much larger, and much hairier.

Then he leans down, and kisses Eddie.

Holy shit.

Eddie won the goddamn lottery. He'd get hit by Steve Harrington's car any day of the week if this is the end result.

They kiss, and kiss, until they hear the heavy key turning the lock.

Hopper swings the door open, looks at Steve, then Eddie, shaking his head, turning on heel, stomping away. Eddie can see what Steve looks like with his swollen, red lips and assumes he looks the same.

"Should we be scared?" Eddie asks, looking at the open door, then back at Steve.

"Of Hop? Nope. No way," he says, climbing to his feet, and then leaning down to pull Eddie up, too. "All bark, no bite, just like you."

Eddie looks at him, and then presses their lips together one more time, before grinning, up close and in Steve's face.

"Sorry I'm no longer a monster. You seemed into that," Eddie teases.

Steve laughs, head thrown back, "I imagine I'll survive. Somehow."

And if you want to write your own, or see more entries in this pop-up, check out @corrodedcoffinfest to see other entries for the Where the Wild Things Are prompt!

Notes: I was editing my other fic for this challenge, and got to where I'd made a Harry and the Hendersons reference and thought, ha, Dustin is a Henderson...what if? Of course, it didn't fully go in that direction once I started writing. But that was the the reason this got written, for sure.

If you haven't seen it, the Bigfoot in the header is indeed Harry from that film. It was my childhood. Made you laugh, made you cry, and it's a relic from back when kids still cussed in PG films, haha. They all walked so Dustin Henderson could (goddamn) run.

Thanks for reading this silliness. 🤣

#corrodedcoffinfest: where the wild things are #corrodedcoffinfest #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth stranger things #stranger things #jeff stranger things #freak stranger things #dustin henderson #corroded coffin #corroded coffin fic #thisapplepielife: corrodedcoffinfest #thisapplepielife: short fic #steddie ficlet #bigfoot eddie munson #cryptid #monsterfucker steve harrington

86 notes · View notes