#a black and white outside cat that was a stray they were slowly trying to get accustomed to being inside

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

Got a blazed cat picture that looks exactly like an ex friends cat and now im missing her cats lol

Not her. I havent missed her at all since that friendship ended. But her cats were fuckin cute.

[qtboni]

[surprise love! ✩ // itoshi rin]

PAIRING: roommate!rin (blue lock) x afab!reader

SUMMARY: in which you found a cat outside and you wanted to keep it. but, your roommate hates cats. wait.. 'hates'? (correction!)

TYPE/GENRE: ‘nd they were roommates… sfw, fluff, rin likes u + u like rin, def crack

CW/TW: explicit words.

WORD COUNT: 3.2k (made it long to make up for the delay 🤪🫶)

A/N: hey yall im back YAYY ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و this fic is dc to my bestie @adoresrinn who is a literal itoshi brainrot LMAOAOA enjoy u rin simps mwa ! btw i suggest listening to the song ‘banana shake’ (sped up) to this !

the leaves crunched beneath your feet. you breathed in and smelt the sweet, flowery fragrance from the trees. it reminded you of summer, of picnics, and to say the least, you could’ve said it reminded you of rin’s perfume but,, that was going to be weird. you shook your head. anyway, the path to your apartment was short, and you began your way home.

as you took in a deep breath, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. you looked up, breathing in the warm but cool air, and smiled. ‘what a nice day,’ you thought while you happily strolled on the sidewalk.

meow.

a faint sound came from behind you and you stopped in your tracks to try and find it. but to no avail of course, you only see people walking along the park and trees dancing with the wind. you continued on walking.

meow!

now, the sound was closer. you turn around with your eyebrows furrowing. you exhaled.

it was a surprise for you to see a small, lost cat following you.

‘what..’ you questioned as you slowly back away.

but suddenly this blur of a white fluff came racing out to meet you, nuzzling up against your leg and purring constantly. the smile crossed on your face widened as you looked down at the tiny fluffy ball in front of you.

the cat looked up at you, its tail twitching as it seemed to beg for some attention. slowly, you reached out to pet it, feeling the softness of its fur beneath your fingers.

petting the cat, you wondered how long it had been out in the cold all by itself.

you pouted in cuteness, "oh you're just the cutest thing," you cooed, gently scratching the fluff between the ears as you picked it up to see it better. the few rays of the sun peeking out from the trees’ greenery leaves reveal a neat color of white with black tips on each of its ears . "oh my gosh, you're so pretty...'

it purred as you stroked it–a small, happy purr that you found strangely soothing after the long school day you’ve had. ugh, just thinking back of all of the pending assignments you’d receive once you get home is setting you off.

as you lifted the cat up into your arms, you couldn't help but laugh at how it looked up at you; its eyes full of adoration. ‘maybe the cat’s a stray?’ you thought to yourself, but you couldn't resist the thought of taking it home with you.

“but you don't have any collar on.” you concluded when you scratch the back of its neck to feel no fabric strapped on. you watch as the cat meows back, and rubs its head against your hand.

you finished the thought as you watched as the white fluff ran around you and rubbed itself on to your crouched form.

you chuckled, “oh, alright. you can come home with me, little one. but,” you paused as you booped its nose, to which it licked your finger and meowed happily. “i'm gonna need to get you a name.” you said, already thinking of all of the names that you could give it, and the little collar that you’d buy for it.

as you approached your apartment with the white fluff ball bunched up in your arms, you could've sworn that you could hear the purring get slightly louder. it was like the cat knew that it had found a home, and was happy to have been taken in. you chuckled, “oh, am i gonna spoil you, little one?” you asked the cat, giving it another little pet.

once you got into the apartment, you set the cat down, and immediately got to work setting out a little bowl of food and a water cup, along with an extra box for it to sleep in. ‘this should do for the meantime..’ you thought to yourself as you placed an old cube cardboard box beside the divider to the kitchen.

the cat immediately went up to the bowl, digging in with eager licks, and you couldn't help but crack a smile. “oh, you are just so hungry, aren't you?” you whispered in a soft, soothing tone, reaching out to pet the cat again. it let out a soft mew, and then jumped onto your lap, settling down and beginning to purr once again.

“hm, so you just wanted some pets, huh?” you placed your pointer finger underneath its chin, making it look up to you. “well, in that case…” you began to gently stroke the cat's back, its happy purrs intensifying.

the more you pet the cat, the more it purrs. you had never realized how soft its fur actually was. they were as soft as velvet. the cat slowly closed its eyes, and began to purr even more as you began to get to your new companion's favorite places.

“you just love these pets, don't you?” you said gently to the white fluff, watching as it began to drift off to sleep, a happy look on its face, even in sleep. you were busy admiring the cat that you didn’t realize who entered.

rin walked through the door to the apartment tiredly albeit lazily. then his brows scrunched, and he had a look of irritation on his face as he took in the view.

“what is that.” he asked, pointing to the cat on your lap.

you jumped at your roommate's unexpected entrance. “oh, uh, i-i um... that's a cat?' you said, staring down at the sleeping cat. rin looked at the white fluff resting.

“a cat?” he scoffed, “you do realize i hate cats, right?”

‘so?’ you wanted to bite back but refrained yourself.

rin dropped his sports bag down beside the door and kicked off his shoes. sighing exasperatedly, he ruffled his dark, olive hair. with a deadpan expression on his face, he asks you, “well, what are you gonna do with it?" while crossing his arms.

"i think... i think i'm gonna keep him,” you started off and your hand continued on caressing the cat’s fur, “and name him... hm..." you thought for a moment, trying to think of all of the pet names that you had heard in the past.

‘i could name him ‘rue’ or ‘chu’, or i could name him after a constellation. maybe ‘nova’ or ‘polaris’? i don’t know, this is such a hard decision! it’s so hard naming him when he's a tiny fluffball, you never really know what fits them.’ you rambled on, clearly ignoring rin standing in front of you.

however, rin just stared at you, his brows scrunched in a sour expression. he couldn’t imagine waking up the next day with a feline walking freely in the apartment. his mind was full of questions, but it didn’t change his sour expression.

"oh. i know!” you said. “i'll call him kiyo."

rin’s eyebrows furrowed, "wait, you’re actually going to 'keep' him?" an annoyed expression on his face, "you can't be serious."

"i think it's pretty clear what i mean," you said, staring down at kiyo in your arms. "there's no need to be so grumpy. it's just a lil' cat."

grumbling, rin relented. “i guess you’re right. i just don’t like cats,” he looked at kiyo, who stared back at him with small eyes. rin's face went a slight pink. “but it is…. well, he is pretty cu–”

"oh, right." you abruptly said, your voice tinged with surprise that took rin to lean back. "i'm gonna need to get him a little pet bed and some toys…” you muttered in your breath.

“i'm sure there's a pet store nearby. we can check it out later." you said, continuing to look down at kiyo happily.

you smiled, and pet the cat. rin seemed to be looking around the apartment, and looking at every item of his that the cat could climb up to or scratch. he was muttering things under his breath, and was getting quite annoyed.

"what's your problem?" you asked rin.

kiyo meowed, and walked across the coffee table, looking up at rin, who was in front. rin averted his gaze at you, looking at the cat instead, and his scowl faded. his lips twitched, and… and, he grinned?

you looked at him weirdly.

you watch rin as he walked over, and picked up the cat from your lap. you shivered when you felt his gentle touch on your thighs. blushing, you averted your gaze and cleared your throat.

kiyo rubbed against rin as he meowed and kept purring up at him. rin sat down on the couch, and smiled. “this might not be so bad after all.” he quietly stated.

‘oh.’

you felt warmth in your heart. you could see lil' kiyo and rin starting to become close. now, rin's smile was as bright as ever when he continued caressing the cat's fur gently.

you chuckled, and teased him. “so, you like kiyo?”

looking up at you, rin made a 'fake' scowl, as still there was that smile on his face again. “shut up.” he said softly and diverted his attention back to the cat laying on his lap, nuzzling to the crevice between his arms.

“don’t tell me you’re starting to love the little guy?” you asked, chuckling as you do so.

rin made a face, clearly trying to avoid the fact that kiyo had started growing on him. "well.. um, w–"

kiyo jumped out of rin’s arms and leapt onto your lap, meowing. “guess so.” he grunted. rin sighed, and looked at the cat quite lovingly. your heart fluttered, it was so clear he was starting to warm up to kiyo.

you laughed a bit, “so you love him now?” you teased, and rin rolled his eyes.

“okay, maybe just a little. i’ll admit he's kind of cute.” he said.

rin abruptly stands up and walks towards you, leaving you a bit stunned. you think he's going to say something, but instead he just smiles warmly at you - a look of pure love and admiration on his face. at least you thought. rest in peace your hopeless romantic self.

you saw the teasing glint on his eyes. you gently strengthen your grip on the cat on your lap. "what.." you muttered as he reached out and took your hand, clasping it gently.

rin pulls you close and leans into your ear, his breath soft and warm against your skin. he smiles softly and whispers something to you - a teasing message, "you should really watch where your cat is," then he lets go after a moment.

visibly confused and flustered, you look down to see that, in fact, kiyo was no longer there laying down on your lap. you felt rin backing away with spills of laughter in his mouth.

you looked up and saw him with kiyo wrapped up in his arms. "hey!" you shouted and attempted to get kiyo from him. of course, rin being the tall bitch he is, held the white cat above his head. and because you're stupid, you blindly stepped on to the top of your toes and flailed around your hands to get kiyo out from his grasp.

snickering, rin raised the cat higher. you could hear rin laugh softly as he raises the cat high up in the air - just out of reach - and teases you about it. "you think you're going to get my cat? mmm, not going to happen, y/n."

to say the least, you were shocked but that didn't stop your attempts when you go to grab the cat away from him again.

"the fuck you mean?" you retorted.

you watch as rin holds kiyo close to him now and he refuses to let him go. "this cat is mine now, and he's not going anywhere else." he smiles softly and he holds the cat tightly to his chest.

rin laughs as he sees your frustration, and he taunts you about it, making you feel a little bit helpless. "you'll have to try a little harder than this if you want kiyo back, you know, ms. y/n"

rin smirked.

'SMIRKED. SMIRKEKD?! 2?2!2?1!?! 1!!?' you were again taken aback. 'since when did he become this dude so rizzed up, my man?!' you shouted internally.

and then, you straightened up with a smirk plastered on your face. 'oh, but you won't see this coming, do you, mr. rizz?'

you backed up slowly and this made rin stop chuckling. it was silent for awhile. 'what are you going to do, hm?' rin wondered as he watches you, kiyo still on top of his head.

you waited a moment, and then stepped on his foot with glee.

"ouch!" rin shouted and you catched kiyo from his fallen grip and nuzzled him in to your neck. kiyo meowed loudly.

"sorry, was that uncomfortable?" you said to rin, your voice dripping with sarcasm. then, you look down at the cat again, cooing softly as you rocked kiyo like a baby in your arms. "the best you can do is act like a child?" you snapped, tone now dripping with more than a hint of frustration and disapproval.

you heard rin hiss. "fine," rin sniffed. "damn, shawty. i was just teasing you."

'did this man just call me, 'shawty'?' you furrowed your brows.

"you were 'just teasing' me?" you said, voice dripping with sarcasm again. "well then that makes it alright, doesn't it?" you said, glaring at rin in frustration. after you snapped at him for being annoying, rin is left with guilt. it seems like all he can really do is agree with you after all.

"okay, okay." he says, sounding slightly ashamed of himself now that he's been called out like this. "i see what you mean. i'm sorry for being stubborn." his voice sounding a little guilty now. he looked up at you, now seeming a little ashamed of his actions as he scratched the back of his neck.

you sighed. "it's alright," nevertheless, you forgave him. rin looks up at you, and he smiles a little bit - a knowing smile. you averted your gaze to look at kiyo.

"i guess the stubborn man still likes you, huh?" you heard him quietly muttering.

'what?!' you thought as you jumped out of shock, and rin flinches. then, it dawned to him that you might have heard what he said. clearly flustered and avoiding your gaze, he sighs, realizing he had given himself away.

'shit.' rin curses to himself whilst taking a deep breath. he then looks at you, and smiles softly. tried to, to say the least as he was very awkward. a small smile, but genuine still all the same. he looks you over slowly, taking in every detail of your appearance. you followed his gaze and you ended up blushing a whole lot more.

rin exhaled softly, and he breathes a little bit harder. he wanted to change the subject already. "anyway!" he stands up and walks over to you, taking kiyo back in his arms. "he's a cat, how hard can it be to take care of one?"

"umm," you wondered as you shook of the feeling of bashfulness running to your veins from his gazes. "i-i'm sure we can look up stuff online, and figure out everything." you sound like you hadn't really thought this through.

nevertheless, rin hummed and you turned to look at him.

you grinned as kiyo rubbed his head against rin’s neck, and purred. rin closed his eyes, feeling content. you chuckled, and said, “aww, don't you wanna cuddle with the lil' guy?”

rin didn’t want to open his eyes as his ears were filled with your voice sounding so soft and inviting. so, he nodded. 'just for you.' he thought.

it was so sweet to see him like this, you were glad kiyo found you. the cat laid down on the couch, and rin laid down on his side next to the cat.

you watch rin as snuggled up to kiyo, holding his front paws tightly in his hands. you warmly said, “well, you’re going to keep kiyo as well, you know.”

rin made an annoyed face, but you could see a smile erupting. “fine.” he said, clearly very content. "i'm fine with that,"

you hummed then laid your head on the empty space beside rin's head - still has an appropriate distance between. closing your eyes, your heart fluttered as this moment made the atmosphere so warm.

rin was no different to you as his hand is itching to hold yours. of course, he was afraid of committing to first moves so he just went for the cat's head instead, caressing it. he’ll admit that his heart was racing, he was so nervous. this was the first time where he was this close to you.

"but," rin looked down, clearly content and happy to be in your presence. his lip trembled slightly when you gaze up at him. the two of you just stared at each other, smiling.

"but what?" you asked him.

you see rin's gaze turn to playfulness. "but as long as he doesn't shit or chew on any of my soccer shoes, of course."

you paused, and looked at him. "what the fuck, rin?"

"what? i have a big game in the next few days, can't have my shoes getting nipped on."

"kiyo's not a dog. he won't chew or eat or even destroy your shoes, oh my god." you jokingly said. "i mean look at this lil' fella," you reached over to the cat's face and made him look at rin, "how can he be capable of that?"

"meowww."

you see rin adjusting his body so he can face you easily. "you don't know that. for all we know, he might actually chew on 'em and even worst!" he paused, looking everywhere as if there were some secret hidden.

you instinctively leaned closer. rin whispers to you, "kiyo will shit on your bed while you sleep."

you made a face and pushed a palm to his head. "gross! shut your ass, rin. i'm done with you."

you hear him laugh out loud and saw him clenching his stomach. kiyo flinched and tried to look over at rin's face that is covered by his forearms, meowing as he does so.

in your mind, you were considering how you felt. you felt warm in the presence of rin, like you were safe. you couldn’t deny your heart, it was fluttering so much, and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

rin keeps laughing for a while, completely unable to speak, then finally calms down, sighing, his voice low. "i'll be sure to remember that next time i need a laugh," he stated as he begins chuckling again. "thanks for that."

you and rin may not be lovers, but rin won't take this moment of pure happiness for granted. he knows that every moment together with you is special and precious, and he wants to make the most of every one of them.

rin may be cranky and sour at times, but he swore that his love for you would weight more than his annoyances.

even if it meant adjusting for you, and your cat.

@tsunag1, 2023 — NAWWW THIS IS GIVING ME BUTRERLFIES I WANT ME SOME BOYFIE WHO LOVES CATS BCZ JUST FOR YOU EVEN IF THEY HATE EM 😭‼️ aaa also! pls like and reblog my works if you like it! it's helpful for me to grow and is vv much appreciated, thank you for reading! ♡

[sylverstorms]

Daniela x Maiden ---- Hunted Ch.7

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6

Life in castle Dimitrescu, you come to realize, truly is a matter of perspective. 

What is a prison to most is but a necessary evil for others and even a home, for a select few. A month ago the notion that a human could find comfort in this kingdom of monsters was incomprehensible to you. Rhiannon and Alexia, here of their own free will, stood completely outside your realm of understanding. 

Now… you’re starting to reconsider your black and white point of view. 

The daughters are highly dangerous mutants, yes, but they do possess appreciable qualities. Their word, for one, is law. 

In the days following your agreement with Daniela, you indeed are given anything you could ever ask for. In return, she only requests for you to keep her company in the evening –mostly just hold her and play with her hair while she reads– for an hour or two before dinner.  

It is a fair transaction. Yet, you cannot help but wonder… is that all this is?

Bubble baths and having whatever five-star meals you want prepared, at any time, are a major thing. Unrestricted access to the libraries and the back garden so you can exercise and get your much-needed dose of fresh air, also crucial. But beyond all that… what surprises you the most is that you slowly come to appreciate, just as much as the rest, the time you spend with her. 

This strange closeness, it’s… new.

Your entire life, you’ve been on the move. One village after another, never stopping at one place for more than two months, you never had friends, let alone anything more. You didn’t miss it, only because you never knew what it was like to have such a thing in the first place. But now…

You want to deny that you like it when she casually weaves her arm around your elbow as you walk together, when she leans into you, when she lays her head on your lap while reading and demands to be petted like an oversized cat. You don’t want to smile at the way she often will just sit there, pouting and complaining about her sisters, or the weather, or whatever task her mother assigned to her that she finds dreadfully boring. 

Tonight, she’s fully immersed in her book, only making the occasional comment about the plot. Well. Whatever ‘plot’ serves as an excuse for five chapters worth of porn later, you muse, glancing down at the sea of crimson sprawled across your thighs. 

“Ah, finally he tells her he’s wanted her since the beginning!” she exclaims at one point. 

You frown. “Didn’t he, like… sleep with two other girls on his journey to her?” 

Daniela pauses for a moment. “Yeah, but that was…” she gestures ‘whatever’ with her hand. “He drank and was missing her and they just reminded him of her.”

“How romantic.” you drawl through no small amount of sarcasm. 

“Shh, it’s getting to the best part.” Daniela says and you’re about ninety percent sure you do not want to know what said part entails. 

Instead, you choose to focus on the texture of her hair, slipping like silk between your calloused fingers, as well as the general warm serenity of the library. It is easy to forget your troubles in this utter calm, surrounded by books and her vanilla scent. Easy to not think, because if you do you’ll see this as what it is; a pretty illusion that just won’t last.

“Ugh, I love graphic descriptions of abs.” Daniela gives a dreamy sigh after a while. “Those that make you feel like you can actually touch them…”

Your eyes stray to the paragraph in question. Immediately, you regret it. You could certainly live your life happily without ever having read about how the protagonist’s girl is worshiping every deep line and shadowed contour of his ‘stone-hard’ abdominals. 

“Your bisexuality knows no bounds.” the comment –and the accompanying eye-roll– were supposed to sound solely in your head. Alas, you hold your breath the second you speak them out loud. 

Daniela laughs. She laughs and you try to not think about how cute she looks throwing her head further back and exposing her neck like this. 

“Hey, I simply appreciate a fit physique.” It’s the alternate way of saying ‘I drool over any and all muscle.’ “Both in books and here in the castle.”

“Do your sisters know how much you appreciate the physique of their girlfriends?” The words hold no bite to them, just harmless teasing. 

Daniela closes the book and looks up at you with a faux scandalized expression. “Me?” she gasps. When it’s clear you’re not buying it, the angel-face grows a devilish smile and imaginary horns. “Let’s just say the girlfriends know I strongly approve of my sisters’ tastes.” 

“Mhm.” you nod. 

“Naw, don’t be like that, Knight.” she turns and nuzzles into your stomach, then lifts your shirt a bit and presses a lingering kiss to its center. “I like you more.” You feel her lips move against you, cool, soft and moist as she speaks and it makes you hot on the spot. 

Then, she decides to shatter whatever is left of your innocence with a tiny, experimental drag of her tongue up your ab crack. Your breath catches in your throat. 

Slowly, she smiles to herself as she settles back into her earlier position. “Huh. The book is right, after all. This is pretty fun.”

For the remaining half an hour until she has to get up for dinner, you suffer.    

–

–

You expect Daniela to jump into you from around the corners of corridors in the evening, but you are not quite as prepared in the morning. 

So, when it happens, you reflexively bend at the waist and almost flip her over your back. Until the familiar smell of her perfume registers in your brain and allows your shoulders to loosen under the circle of her black-clad arms. You inhale through your nose. Breathe out slowly.

“Seren, Seren, look!” She seems oblivious to the heart attack she damn near caused, pointing to the window like a kid on a sugar rush. “The sun is strong today and the temperature should rise above ten degrees. It’s the perfect time to take me out on a date like you’ve always wanted~”

Your lips flatten to a line that you bite your cheek not to break into a smile. “Like I’ve always wanted.” you repeat dully.

“Isn’t it great to finally get what you’ve been waiting for?” she zooms right in front of you, grinning. “Come on, go dress up.” Her hand motions for you to hurry almost too fast for the human eye to catch. “Go, go.”

This is the whole point of your arrangement, that you both get what you want the moment you want it, therefore it’s not like you can just tell her no. The problem is, seeing her literally buzzing with eagerness to step outside, you don’t think you would deny her anything regardless. 

A warmer blouse replaces your white shirt, an ash-gray coat on top of it. You hastily pull a scarf around your neck as you descend the staircase to the main lobby, where Daniela waits by the fireplace, rolling her key around her gloved fingers. She’s dressed exactly as she was the moment you first met in the woods, which makes you pause for a moment, muse on how long ago that day seems now.

Yet it can’t have been that long… can it? For a tense moment, a sense of alarm overthrows your excitement to be outdoors.

Until she grabs your hand and pulls you towards the main gates. The carved iron is made to look much lighter than it is as she pushes it open with one finger. The chilly air that greets your cheeks with a biting kiss does wonders to cleanse your mind of worries.

The two of you walk into the forest. Daniela no doubt knows every nook and cranny like the back of her hand; the certainty of her steps inspires confidence you won’t get lost in all the thick trees and melting snow. 

“It feels so good to finally get out of the castle.” she hums, stretching her arms over her head, bathed in the sun’s golden rays. 

Judging by the skip in her step, she would be running or flying around, if not for you. Which makes you wonder why she wants you along in the first place. If anything, you only appear to be holding her back. A question you do not voice, when instead you speak up to ask:

“The sun doesn’t bother you?”

“I’m not literally a vampire, you know.” Daniela shrugs. No, she just feeds on blood, sleeps during the day and has superpowers. Your expression must betray your thoughts because she instantly adds “Well. It’s debatable. Although my sisters and I aren’t too fond of the light, the sun is also quite warm, so not all bad. Not like it hurts us in any way.”

“Not like the cold.” you state. It isn’t a question. 

She stops in her tracks. Gives you an uncharacteristically firm look underneath the shadows of her hood, one that is both cautious and a warning. “No… not like the cold.” 

You won’t lie; you’re surprised she doesn’t deny it. “Why aren’t you fond of the light, then?” you wonder aloud. “Instincts?” 

“That, too. But mostly it makes us drowsy. And our eyesight is keener in the dark. Here, it’s like a filter has been pulled in front of me that doesn’t let me see as far.” Daniela explains. 

For the next ten minutes, you continue your trudge in comfortable silence. Soon, your destination comes into view; a small waterfall surrounded by rocks and lush vegetation you never even knew existed. A grin spreads across your lips, admiring nature’s beauty at its finest. The village still hides many surprises. 

“Knew you’d appreciate this little place.” she comments lightly. For someone you’re supposed to be taking out on a date, it sure feels like the other way around.

Almost without thinking, you kneel by the running water, letting your fingertips dip into its crystalline surface. The frost bites real hard, but it must be a dream to take a bath here during the summer. 

I won’t be here come summer. Your chin lowers. If you are, then ‘here’ won’t be nearly as pretty and peaceful. You can’t stay long. Looking up at Daniela, her subtly heterochrome orbs fixed on an orange butterfly that has landed on her hand, you wonder if you can tell her why. 

“Life sure is weird.” she whispers. “Can you imagine this beauty comes from something as ugly as a caterpillar?” The butterfly flies away, but Daniela’s irises remain fixed on the spot it used to occupy. “Both are insects. And yet… nobody wants the caterpillar.”

You don’t understand what she’s really referring to –as is often the case with her– although you get the sense her sentence is deeper than a mere observation. Is she saying that beauty defines everything? 

Or… is she telling you more than that?

Daniela rubs her gloves together and walks over to you, takes a seat on a nearby rock and leaves enough room for you to join. It is only after you do that you realize she didn’t ask; you simply went to her on your own. What that says, you aren’t sure you want to know. Is it possible to be scared of something and willingly approach it at the same time?  

“So… are these mini falls special to you? Do you come here to read under the sun when it’s hot enough?” you inquire.

“No. I don’t come often anymore.” Daniela replies. “I used to find sanctuary in this place a long time ago, though. The steady sound of the water helped me focus my thoughts. For a little while, anyway.”

“Sanctuary?” you frown. From what?

“The first years, the hunger was… maddening. Inescapable frenzy. I couldn’t even think.” Her fingers curl into claws at the recollection. “It was a nightmare. Crazy.” It may be your imagination that her voice wavers. Still, to think a monster would sound so desperate to escape herself… “I have no idea how Bela got it under control as fast as she did.”

You swallow, then ask: “And Cassandra?” 

Daniela’s dark-glossed lips press together. “Cassandra’s therapy was clearing this side of the forest of most mammals.” 

“From what I gather, this spot isn’t one of happy memories. How come you brought me?” you wonder.

Daniela gives you a borderline guilty look. “Actually… it was Rhiannon’s idea. Said if I came here with you I’d like it a lot better than being on my own. That I could gradually associate it with something nice.” A shrug. “Plus it beats my sisters’ advice for a first date.” 

“And that is?” you’re feeling bold enough to ask.

“Between Bela’s extremely specific ‘just don’t be weird’ and Cassandra’s ‘shove her into the nearest empty room, go wild and call it success’... I figured this was better.” Daniela impersonates the other two perfectly and you can’t help but chuckle. 

What an oddly normal, bizarre family. you muse, perhaps with not as much venom as you would have, weeks ago. And then, another thought strikes you. Before you have time to consider whether you should voice it or not, you find yourself looking into her strangely pretty eyes, speaking. 

“You called the early days a nightmare. …what about before them?” Before the bloodthirst. Before whatever virus turned her into what she is. If she recalls that life as you believe she does, then she must surely miss parts of it. 

Unless the butterfly does not remember ever being a caterpillar.

But her expression tells you otherwise.  

“Just more… scorched earth.” her voice is distant as she says it. Far away, to whatever messed up reality she made up dreamworlds to escape from. 

That settles it, then. Turns out she and you have the most important thing of all in common. She knows what it’s like to live in a bad dream that keeps getting darker. She knows that it’s like to be you.  

Maybe you’re the one who doesn't understand what it is to be her. 

[asleep-in-the-keep-sideblog]

Asleep In The Keep: A DP x BNHA fic

Summary: Aizawa soothes Danny

Word count: 2412

Chapter 22: Star Boy

It was 11:56 am when Shouta woke up. He stared up at the black ceiling of his empty home. It was 4 minutes before his alarm would go off, forcing him to get back out into the field. Hizashi was busy either with hero work, finding Phantom, or helping prep for the upcoming training camp for class 1-A & B. As much as those kids deserve a break, they need to be prepared for what's coming, more so than any other class. The kids never should have been exposed to the LOV, but that was out of their control now. What they can control is how much access the League has to the kids. With the training grounds so far away (and several dummy locations), it should stop the league from finding them. Shouta had a bad feeling in his stomach. He just had to keep trusting Nezu. 

The alarm blared in his ear, startling The Queen of Arson from her throne, which was less importantly Shouta's chest. She quietly curled her head back down, unbothered. Shouta looked down at her and rubbed her head, her purring in response. This part always hurt… With regret already in his bones, Shouta slowly rose out of his bed, gently lifting the blanket underneath her so she wouldn’t immediately notice his departure. He lowered her back down once he was completely out. Of course, she could tell the difference, and looked back at him in disgust, then jumped off the bed. Pancake ran after her, trying to play, annoying her further. 

As much as Shouta wanted to stay and watch the cats, he had a job to do. He stripped out of his dirty jumpsuit and threw it in the hamper. It was Hizashi’s week to do the laundry. He thinks . He rummaged through his bare closet but was only able to find an atrocious pair of pink sweatpants that said Juicey, on the butt. Absolutely not. Hizashi had gotten them for him 5 years ago for an anniversary, and they were only to be worn in the house. He went back to the hamper and smelled the old suit, it didn’t smell that bad. He took them into the bathroom and hung it on the empty towel hook. Then took the scented spray from under the sink and sprayed away the surface stench of an alley. This would have to do. 

It didn’t take long after that to get ready. On his way out the door, his third cat, Sushi, rubbed against his leg. He crouched down to pet her, ignoring the slight pain in his leg. He looked around for the others and secretly fed her a treat he kept in his pocket for the strays. And with that, Shouta was out the door. 

His mind raced with thoughts of Phantom and the café, he just hoped he was still there. He had no idea how he was gonna get the boy to join UA. He distracted himself with a more current problem, the training camp.

He had been hoping for an in to place Shinso in the class, and this could be it. He had been training him since the sports festival, and could tell he was more competent than some of his other students. His personality could push his other students in the right direction and force them to use their heads. Throwing him into the mix could also throw off the League, at least for a while. He didn’t like the idea of using children as pawns, but again, he had to trust Principal Nezu. Shouta had made up his mind long ago anyway…

The café was only a 15 minute bus ride, and too soon he was kicked off. He watched the café from the outside for a moment, confused by what he saw. All the windows emanated a white light, but the street lamps around the shop were burned out. A dozen alarm bells went off in his head. 

Shouta crept towards the door, ears and eyes open for whatever could be waiting for him. He knew Phantom glowed and had blasts of some kind, but was this his doing or something else? There was always the possibility that the LOV had found him. Regardless, he had to call for backup from UA. He grabbed for his phone, but as soon as his fingers touched the case, it shocked him. He tried turning it on but it was dead. Great. 

The phones for heroes were designed to be resistant to most everything, especially electric or other power-emitter quirks. Was this the league? A new member of theirs, or Phantom? If it was the boy, how many quirks did he have jammed into him? It didn’t matter if Shouta had backup or not, he needed to help Phantom. 

He pushed the door open with no resistance, chills running up his spine. It was still early in the day, so it made sense for it to be unlocked, but the ease still bothered him. Shouta tried to sneak in, but he wasn’t small enough to fit through the gap, and the bell dinged. He braced himself for an attack, but only felt gentle gusts of cold wind. The whole café was silent except for a faint buzz. Shouta walked into the threshold and finally saw the source of the light. 

There, by the front of the counter, was the curled up form of Phantom, floating and shining brightly like a star. Shouta just stared at the specter, transfixed and disturbed by the light show. Phantom was dimming in and out of visibility, his hair and lights flashing a different color as he returned. Greens, purples, whites and blues pulsed in and out with the boy. It was like the northern lights, or maybe closer to stardust since he looked so much like a star.

Shouta put on his goggles for some relief, afraid he would have a seizure if he stared at the thing for too long. Hairs rose on the back of his neck at the activation of his quirk- but nothing happened. He tried again for longer but with the same result. Shouta should’ve been surprised, but he wasn’t. Logic and common sense wasn’t something that affected the boy thus far. 

Shouta let out a frustrated sigh, and slowly approached the boy. With each step, a sharp cold wind blew into his bones and he exhaled, feeling numb. Is this what Mt. Lady was talking about in the report? 

Shouta pressed on, not wanting to fail the kid before he even got the chance to try. He wrapped his scarf around his face to protect from the cold, and marched forth. He was only 3 feet away when he heard the kid mumbling. It was incompressible and sounded scratchy and acidic. It hurt his teeth. Another wind knocked Shouta down, causing him to hit his bad knee. He grit his teeth in determination, but got up, it was not the worst pain he felt. More and more blasts of cold went through him as if trying to keep him away (which was very likely). Once he had good balance again, he started walking, adrenaline in his veins making him completely numb. It was like climbing up a snowy mountain. Finally he reached Phantom. He stretched out his scarf and wrapped them around the boy, but he did not budge. Shouta didn’t expect him to, he just needed an anchor. With his hands free, he dug through his many pockets. Shouta clumsily found his space blanket and unwrapped it. He tried to wrap it around Phantom, but the wind was too strong. His scarf was starting to fray, despite that being near impossible. In a hasty moment, Shouta grabbed the boy's shoulder.

Everything stopped. 

Light bulbs shattered as the boy fell down. Fortunately Shouta was able to catch him, if barely. He looked at his face, which was blue and slack. So this is what he looks like… Shouta had to file that away for later. He hurriedly wrapped the blanket around the boy. It was clear he had an ice quirk, but even they could get hypothermia if overused. He started rubbing the boy’s back and arms, trying to get him and Phantom warmer. He felt like frozen meat.

“Oh god…” Shouta cursed. His quirk wasn’t suited for this. The boy’s heart wasn’t beating and Shouta had to hope that it was a side effect of the kid's quirk instead of the very obvious truth. Shouta was holding a dead kid with white hair, a scene that was already very familiar to him. 

“Shit!” he cursed louder, at himself more than anything. He started to aggressive rubbing faster, trying to get any warmth through him. His fingers were numb and he could no longer bend them right. In his frenzy, he almost didn’t hear the boy groan. 

“Phantom?” he questioned. Another groan. Shouta nearly laughed from relief. “Are you okay, kid?” He didn’t try to hide how frantic he felt. He checked the boy’s heartbeat, but still felt nothing. No warmth radiated from the boy either, if he hadn’t made a noise Shouta would still think he was dead. Maybe he is a phantom, Shouta thought. 

“My god, you’re freezing…” he held him tighter, hoping to give whatever warmth he could to the boy. The ice around them started to melt, which had to be a good sign. 

“Come on, just breathe…” Shouta started breathing deeply to guide him, and slowly the kid started mimicking him, but grumbled. “There you go, in” Shouta breathed in and the boy copied, if a bit more shallowly. “And out…come on kid” the adrenaline had started to go down and Shouta could feel himself grow tired. 

Finally after a few more breaths, the boy slowly opened his eyes. They were black and looked like a galaxy. Recognition lit like fire in his eyes, and too quickly he was scooting away from Shouta. Panic and confusion were clear on his face, but underneath it was a layer of fear. Shouta raised his hands slowly. The boy had been through a lot, he didn’t need Shouta stressing him out more.

With the excitement out of his system, Shouta started to shiver, but he clenched his teeth and bared it. Phantom eyed him, his eyes radiating a toxic green glow. He was instantly on guard, and unconsciously settled into a fighting stance. Shouta’s heart sank a little, but it was expected. He waited for the teenager to make the first move, not wanting to scare him. Teens were like animals when scared (or all the time really). He eyed Shouta’s body, or more specifically the frost on his torso. Phantom looked at his own hands and then around the café. Realization flashed through his eyes and his face twisted. 

The boy’s shoulders jerked, suddenly aware of the slight weight on them. Phantom grabbed the blanket like it was a snake about to bite him. His brow shifted as he saw what it was and then he looked at Shouta with new understanding. He still wasn’t completely relaxed, but it was a start.

His face suddenly went green, as if he was about to throw up, and his face twisted as if he ate something sour. He started fiddling with the blanket, twisting it into a tight whip. His eyes left Shouta for the first time as he looked down to the floor. He bowed, just as awkwardly as last time. Shouta’s heart went out to him. 

“You don’t have to do that.” The silence and tension was broken between them but now replaced with awkwardness radiating off the teen. He stopped still mid bow, and stood up rigidly. It was nice to see the teen recover so quickly. 

“Uhh you too” Shouta didn’t know what he meant by that and was about to say as much when the boy said, “I mean, be on the ground.” Suddenly the teen rolled his eyes, as if Shouta misinterpreted him intentionally. 

He got up, slowly, both to ease the boy and not to injure his knee anymore. When he fully stood up, he was tempted to pop his back, but this was the wrong time. The two just stared at each other, not sure how to bring up what happened. Shouta’s eyes shifted to his blanket and the boy followed. 

“Here, sorry.” In a second, the boy cut the distance between them and shoved the blanket in Shouta’s chest, face green. This kid needed a doctor…  

“Thank you.” Shouta nodded. Now that the kid had nothing in his hands, he started fiddling with his gloves. He looked slightly different than in the report. Instead of a hazmat suit, he wore a café uniform with a turtleneck and apron. It was clear that he was the same barista from before, and the boy must’ve known that Shouta knew. He looked like he was about to say something when Shouta interrupted him.

“I won’t tell the Hero Commission” A dirty trick, lying by omission. He was going to tell principal Nezu, but no one who would harm the boy. 

“The commission?” He quirked his head.

“Yes. That’s why the news and that group of heroes are after you.” he clarified. Clearly the boy didn’t know about them. Why would AFO keep him in the dark about them? “You do know why they’re after you, right?” the boy shook his head. Jesus. 

Shouta could talk to him about that later. Right now, it was clear the boy needed medical attention or at least some form of care.

“I know a doctor who could help you, she won’t ask any questions unless it has to do with your health.” He needed to get the kid to UA, for his own safety. 

“I’m fine.” the kid stated without hesitation. 

“I’m sure you are, but you were frozen-” Phantom cut him off. 

“I said I’m fine” And that was the end of the discussion. It made sense not to trust Shouta, hell, he wouldn’t either if he were in Phantom’s situation. He wished he could show Phantom that he was genuine. 

“Is there at least a safe place for you to go? Truly safe?” Phantom narrowed his eyes at Shouta, but nodded. Shouta had to get the boy to trust him first before he introduced him to the idea of joining an organization that he (probably) never heard about. 

“Good.” And he meant that.

[thedevotedhealer]

Because I Love You

TRIGGER WARNING!: murder, blood, gore, YANDERE! Male! Sakura, Obsessive Behaviour, Anger issues, Hyugas need to chill.

<modern Au>

3rd POV:

One Summer day, after a heated argument with your parents about how you want to be with Sakuro Haruno, which the Hyūga clan family (yes, ur from the Hyūga clan) outwardly, "politely" refused, stating that they wouldn't let her marry off to some clanless, lowlife mercenary. your heart sunk in your stomach, knowing fully well that the great Hyuuga clan of "Hyūga corporate" would never let in an outsider, much less a civilian mercenary and a war medic from a merchant-descending family anywhere near people of such high status, let alone marry into one. it was still a status problem, even in 21'st century.

The tears welled in your eyes, as you buried your head in your palms, crying from the pressure of emotions, cursing yourself inwardly for being born into such a ruthless and arrogant clan.

Then between your fingers, you saw a set of mint-green glowing eyes. You clear your vision, not quite wanting to face your lover, but also worried as you now could clearly make out his features.

His viridian eyes were wide open, darkened, pupils, dilating, until they settled into a very sharp, almost cat-like form, his jaw was clenched tight as he ground his teeth from anger, his body tense and his knuckles turned white from how hard he was grasping the fabric of his jeans before he relaxed after your father has finished his rant about destiny and how he was a lowlife and whatnot.

Still

He went completely still, his bangs foreshadowing his expression.

Burying your face back into your hands with shame and embarrassment and the need to burst in tears once more, you finally decided to storm off and get some air, even though you weren't sure how good of an idea it was to leave your love behind with your family, but you didn't care at that moment, all you needed was some fresh air to clear your mind.

"Y/n Hyūga, come back here right this instant!" her mother called out after you angrily.

Y/N' POV:

"I resent all of you so much, Mother. If only you could just shut up, crawl into a ditch, and die!" I screamed and stormed out, cussing out my lineage, gasps and the rage-filled voice of my mother slowly dying out as I ran further, finally out of the mansion.

Too bad that would be the last words I would ever say to them.

As my father would say "fate would be inevitable."

If only i had stayed...

After 5 minutes of trying to cool my head, I started to regret my words. 'Maybe that was a bit too harsh... I should apologiz-'

*BANG*

before i could finish my thought, something loud came from the house. Maybe something fell? Or maybe Father threw something...?

Oh no...

Sakuro!

Quickly I ran back from the big garden in a hurry, swinging the giant door open.

"What happen-!!!" before i could finish my thought, Sakuro was walking out with an unreadable expression on his face, his eyes dull and dark.

I ran up to him and hugged him tightly, sighing in relief that he was safe. "Sakuro-Kun what was that sound, w-what-" Before I could finish my sentence, I looked up at his face properly, I noticed only then:

Red splatters on his face adorned his mostly flawless features, dripping from the side at some point.

then, a metallic scent filled my nose.

3rd POV"

Backing away from him on slow and shaky feet, she looked down at his clothes, taking in his appearance: black and red materials of his shirt and flannel had been darkened, his jeans splattered with the same substance as the one on his face, a gun in one hand and long strands of bloody mat of long hair in his other one, his tall body hunched over slightly, lost in thought, dazed almost. She looked by the entrance of the living room, lower body of what she could make out was her sister, blood pooling around slowly straying its path to random directions and down at herself, her once clean attire now covered in her parent's and sister's blood.

Then it happened: Darkened viridian met pearly Lilac.

"Hey, Y\n?" he asked, a dazed look still eminent on his features.

The h/c haired woman couldn't muster a reply, her lip started trembling, eyes wide, backing away towards the door slowly, which the pink-haired mercenary had followed suit after, not making harsh or rash movements, as if to not startle an already scared animal, who was ready to bolt at any given moment. "You love me, right? no matter what I may do? You will still keep the promise, right?"

Pearly lilac met his gaze once more, she picked up on his broken tone as if he was holding back his emotions that were pressured like a dome about to break and spill over. her eyes pleading silently, begging to tell her it was not true, that this was a prank and her beloved family was still alive, yet all she got in return was his blank gaze, face softening, morphing into a guilty and apologetic look.

She shook her head. "No... NO! What have you done?!" She screamed, both in horror and rage. She tried to dash to the door and open it, but was beaten to it by a large, gloved hand, banging the giant door closed, the hinges rattled from the Sheer force.

Gloves...

Those were his military gloves, her mind provided, covered in blood, leaving a red trail on the door as his hand slid down.

His arms sneaked around her, holding her.

"NO! LET ME GO!!! MURDERER, MONSTER!!!" The last remaining Hyuga of the household screamed eyes blurred from the tears streaming relentlessly down her features. "MAMA, PAPA!!! NEE-SAMA, HELP, PLEASE!!!"

She kept thrashing and screaming for help, trying to get out of the Pink-Haired monster's grip, which wouldn't budge the slightest at her attempts to free herself. Sakuro put the gun back under his shirt, held by the belt, and fully embraced her from the back, letting them sink to the floor, his body protectively, almost possessively wrapped around her, his monstrous strength keeping the weeping woman in place.

She kept screaming but to no avail.

Sakuro thanked the heavens at that moment that the Family was on a vacation by the seaside, where they had a place far away from the mainland of the beach, by the sea. A separate place where nobody would bother them, and a place where nobody would hear a gunshot and screams...

Her screams turned into hoarse cries, and the hoarse cries turned into hiccups.

Then

Silence...

Finally gathering the courage, he turned her face towards him, moving the stray hairs out of her beautiful face with one gloveless finger.

Completely clean and warm.

How absurd...

her eyes dulled, out of energy, her mind fogging between consciousness and the dreamland.

"It's ok, It's all over now, I'm here..." He said, his face warm, beautiful, soft mint now a shade of viridian under the moonlight that peaked through from the giant window of the door.

This was the Sakuro She knew, the one she fell in love with, she mused once again in her mind, her hand, drained, reached up to touch his bloodied cheek, her mind in a state of dilemma.

Was this a dream? a nightmare? it had to be.

She would wake up, she knew it, she just needed to close her eyes.

"Why...?" She asked, her voice hoarse. She felt like claws were scratching down her vocal cords, if she talked louder, she thought vaguely, she was sure they would snap.

"Because you are mine and mine only. I won't let anyone else have you, Because I Love You... and won't let even your family or god take you away from me if he came down." He smiled, gently kissing her forehead.

Then his face darkened "If you're not willing to be with me, even if I go to hell for my actions, I will hunt you down and take you down with me because there is no me without you, and I won't let anyone have you..

Because I Love You, More than you can ever imagine, my moonshine..." He said in a gentle voice, but Y/N could see, even at the state of passing out, that there was a darker intent.

Because I Love You, Huh...?

she saw his eyes, then the moon rising perfectly between the glass, illuminating where they sat,

Then...

Darknesss...

______________________________________

OMGOMGOMGOMG, MY FIRST YANDERE MINI-FIC!!!!!

EEEEEE!!!!

Enjoooyyyy <3

[lightning-etc-lord]

why the fuck did he dare that woman to drink one of her drinks? she did tell him she was a witch but ren didn't believe in fairytales and now he was meowing up at people like a desperate hoe. in his mind he did speak but all people seemed to hear was meow meow meow meow. he was going to go crazy. she did mention one thing, if he met his fated pair then perhaps he'd "turn back into a human---albeit with cute kitty ears and a tail to boost his confidence". or something along those lines? a hybrid cat human? he wouldn't even be able to go around. maybe they'd think he was cosplaying... NOT THAT HE HAD EVEN MET HIS FATED PAIR YET.

and it was slowly getting dark outside, too. the door and all his windows were closed, so he couldn't even get into his own four walls, so all he could do was drag his bag around.

when the wind started to howl and the first few drops fell into his nose he wanted to cry out for help but even then people seemed to walk right past him as if he didn't even exist...

only when he found an opened window somewhere further up, did he drag himself up there which was only difficult since his bag was ten times heavier than he could remember.

the room was barely lit, so he dropped his bag on the window sill and eventually tip toed over to the bed. the body in there didn't seem to move, so he boldly jumped upwards before curling up against the other male, sincerely hoping he wasn't going to throw him right out of the window again. with his paws he pulled up the blanket, halfway destroying it right his claws but at least he was comfortably warm now. perhaps this human would keep him, that would also be nice. ( yeeeeets at chu )

@weltenwxndler || JingRen -> Cat!Ren AU

Jing Yuan is referred to by his peers as animal center. That’s because the man simply attracts a diverse kind of animals everywhere he goes— and all kinds of animals are gentle with him. Some people even call him a ‘Disney princess’ because of this affinity with animals that he has. The man in question can only laugh, because he himself just thinks one must show no bad intentions and the animals will understand it.

This does not mean he’s used to random cats entering his house on their own. Well— not too often? A few do come by at daylight to get some food with their little pleading faces. But not even these beggars are bold enough to climb his bed as if it was theirs!

The white haired often keeps a window open for the finches that come greet him every morning, already aware that they will be given food soon. It’s also autumn, what means it isn’t too hot nor too cold, and he can easily leave the window open, something that is impossible in the winter.  And then, when he rolls on his bed, suddenly he feels… something wet? Something wet and purring?

“Hey, hey, I don’t know who you are, but not in the bed!” He’s quick to grip the black cat, and it’s then that Jing Yuan notices: “you are shivering, little one…” Too nice to simply let it go, Jing Yuan ends up taking the cat with himself to the bathroom. He sets up warm water and bathes the animal, being gentle and careful so that the cat will not try to bite or scratch at him. Jing Yuan speaks to the cat all the while, praising good behavior and pouting when something bad happens.

In the end, one hour is spent around the cat, but they are now set to sleep. “Come on, little one. Lets get back to bed. You can leave tomorrow when the rain stops if you want.” Of course, he had noticed that the cat didn’t have any leash, but strays don’t really like to become domestic cats out of the blue.

[bewitchingbooktours]

Heart of the Wolf by A. Mariposa #PNR #ParanormalRomance

Heart of the Wolf

Black River Moon

Book One

A. Mariposa

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Black Butterfly

Date of Publication: 05/31/2024

ISBN: 9780999310298

ASIN: B0D1FKQ35J

Number of pages: 300

Word Count: 120,000

Cover Artist: Theresa Shreffler

Tagline: A steamy paranormal romance about forbidden first love!

Book Description: 

Maddy Donovan is trying to survive her senior year of high school. Her life is far from normal. Her stepdad is a shameless alcoholic. The power bill is due. And she has a math test tomorrow. She's living in survival mode, and she has no time to date that spicy older guy who keeps coming by the hardware store. What's his name again? Right. Gareth Delarosa. Black hair, hazel eyes, over six feet tall--guys that hot don't belong in Black River. He's been her secret crush for the last five years, but there's an age gap, and he's way off limits.

But it seems like fate has other plans. When Gareth saves her life the night of a break-in, she wakes up in his bedroom, in his bed, wearing his shirt. Her secret fantasy is staring her in the face. Oh wait, he's a werewolf? Right. Seems like her luck. True love is about to upend her world.

Welcome to a love story about crossing boundaries, taking risks, healing from trauma and learning to live on the wild side. This is not your grandma's love story! 

Recommended for readers 18+, contains spicy scenes and adult content.

Amazon Read First 10 Chapters FREE on Kindle Vella!

Excerpt: Waking Up in Your Forbidden Crush’s House. Wearing His Shirt. You Know. Normal Things.

“Hey.”

She stiffened. Her heart gave a little flutter. She knew that voice. His deep, husky baritone was unmistakable.

Maddy looked back over her shoulder.

It was him.

Oh good lord.

He stood at the entrance to the kitchen, a towel over one shoulder.

Their eyes met.

She felt a little zap of lightning.

She swallowed. Hard.

Maddy turned around slowly to face him. She was shocked. He was her secret. Secrets were supposed to remain hidden. Not standing before her, face-to-face.

This was her first time standing so close to him outside of work, in broad daylight, without a dark moonlit forest obscuring his physique. His honey-hazel eyes glimmered beneath stern brows. His black hair, a warm tone like rich earthen humus, fell freely past his shoulders.

His massive chest made two little mountains under his white T-shirt. He was very tall and packed with muscle; she guessed him to be three or four inches over six feet.

A full sleeve of tattoos covered each arm. She had never really looked at them before. Up near his left shoulder, partly hidden by his shirt, she saw a vibrant, grinning skull in the sinister style of Dios de Los Muertos. The word LOBO in rustic Southwest font ran down his right forearm, while LOCO ran down the left. If his arms were both down, it read “lobo loco.” His right arm also carried the astrological symbol of a Scorpio, or maybe it was just a big fucking scorpion. The rest of the sleeve was too intricate for her to really appreciate at a glance.

His skin was deep tan. He wore blue jeans and steel-toed work boots. Something like car grease stained his shirt. She wondered, not for the first time, if he worked at a garage.

Maddie realized she was staring with her mouth slightly open. She shut it. She met his eyes again. She really didn't know what to say.

“You hungry?” he asked.

Then he walked back into the kitchen.

Maddy followed him with some hesitation. She felt like a stray cat who had wandered into someone’s house. He set a plate of bacon down on the kitchen table, and she pulled out a chair and sat down. Next to the bacon was a plate of scrambled eggs and two big waffles with maple syrup.

“I didn’t know what you liked,” he said, like he needed to explain why he’d served her an entire breakfast buffet. “Eat up. I’ll finish the rest.”

“Uh . . . thank you,” she mumbled.

She picked up her fork and speared one of the waffles onto her plate. The sight of so much food made her suddenly ravenous. She felt like she had burned ten-thousand calories the night before. She started shoving warm, syrup-covered waffles straight into her mouth.

He continued washing the dishes. The voice on the TV droned on. Maddy’s ears suddenly perked when she heard her name. “Now on local news, five bodies were found in the woods just outside Black River, NY . . . Police are saying animal attack . . . nearby mobilehome abandoned . . . currently searching for Madeline Donovan, a student at Black River High School. If you have any information about her whereabouts, please call . . . .”

So the police were looking for her. Wow. Color her impressed. Someone must have reported her missing. Maybe because of the gunshots. Certainly not her father. Sounded like Dean still hadn’t come home.

Another voice interrupted Maddy’s thoughts, a memory from the night before: “Rough up the guy. . . Toss his place . . . Leave a message.”

Maddy’s hands started to shake.

Her fork slipped through her clumsy fingers. It clattered to her plate. Then to the floor. It made a lot of noise.

The man turned to look at her.

“Sorry, uh . . . sorry,” she muttered.

Her hands clutched the bottom of her shirt as she tried to stop trembling.

He was still watching her. That made it worse. This isn’t normal. Nothing about this is normal. She was in his house. Her head was bandaged, and she was sitting in his boxers and a T-shirt. She felt a weird sense of vertigo. Everything was surreal.

She stared at her plate. Her cheeks were burning. She tried not to think of the unnegotiable fact that she was wearing his clothes, which meant someone must have undressed her the night before, which meant he absolutely saw her naked.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He shut off the sink. Then he passed through the kitchen and into the living room, where he picked up the remote. He turned off the TV.

“Sorry if that bothered you,” he said.

“It’s alright,” she said.

She turned in the chair. She could see him clearly; he was only about ten feet away. She studied his face again. The light from the window cast shadows beneath his high cheekbones.

Devilish. He had a masculine neck, a cleft chin, a straight nose and a slightly prominent brow that gave his face a stern appearance. His lips were firm and sensual. His lashes were long and dark. His eyes were a bright, unusual hazel color. Sometimes they were green, and sometimes they were gold. She couldn’t tell if he was Native American, Mexican, Brazilian or a little bit of everything. To her, he looked like an exotic model from somewhere warm and tropical.

She felt a flutter in her stomach. It was not a shy tickle, but a steroid-enhanced butterfly striking her ribcage. She liked him so much. But . . . he was an adult, and she was only nineteen.

So, like, probably too young for him. God, she could not stop blushing.

“So what happened last night?” he asked. 

About the Author: 

A. Mariposa is penname for YA Fantasy writer, T. L. Shreffler. She writes Paranormal Romance that's steamy, spicy, a bit gritty, a little messy, and a whole lot of Happily Ever After! Her first PNR series The Wolves of Black River can be described as Shameless meets True Blood. For fans of Alpha males, shifter romance, forbidden first loves and historic small towns, this series is for you. <3

https://tlshreffler.medium.com/

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/211716326-heart-of-the-wolf

[bump1nthen1ght]

Late Night Favor (Shadow Monster x Reader)

Genre: Fluff, Urban Fantasy

Warnings: Explicit content up ahead (18+ ONLY), Oral, Fingering

Word Count: 4000 Words

Summary: A couple of small good deeds leaves you with a late night visitor, looking to repay a debt.

Request: "You unknowingly rescue a shadow monster and bring it home with you, after a couple days of lurking in the shadows of your home and recuperating it shows you just how thankful it is." I had this idea forever ago but was never able to execute it. My opening idea was that a few kids are shining flashlights at something, tormenting it, and you swoop in to save it and chase the kids away. You thought they were hurting a cat or something, but find nothing and head home.

What do you think? Would you like to take it on? I'd be honored if you would 😊

A/N: *Throws this into the street to appease for the fact I haven’t updated Out of the Woods in THREE MONTHS IM SORRY*

It was the perfect weather for a lazy day inside. The pitter patter of the rain on your window had almost lulled you back to sleep during breakfast, and the thunder had provided great ambiance for reading. You hadn’t bothered changing out of your pajamas and we’re enjoying a soap opera binge on the coach when the peace was disturbed.

At first it was just the sound of clattering trash cans, not uncommon from the alley outside your window. But then it was followed by the raucous laughter of teenagers, rocks being thrown against the concrete, and a sharp hissing.

You hoist yourself up and off the couch, meandering toward the balcony, expecting to see a bunch of kids fucking around; Maybe using the cover of the fire escape to hide from the rain and smoke some weed.

Ah, memories.

But instead, you see a huddled group of boys pointing a flashlight into the pile of garbage right by the dumpster. One of them picks up a pebble and throws it into the light beam, causing another hiss and a jerk of movement. The boys laugh even louder, the one on the right nudging the one with the flashlight.

“Dude, do it again!”

Flashlight agrees, quickly moving the light into another corner as the one on the left throws a rock in the opposite direction. A shape of pitch black hisses again, deterred by the rock and scared by the brightness. Your brow furrows.

“Hey!”

The boys jump, looking in all directions.

“What are you three doing down there?” They finally look up at you, messy-haired and bleary-eyed. They shrug and ignore you, one even throwing another rock, bigger than before. There’s a sad yelp as it collides with the blackness.

You grit your teeth, grabbing your jacket off a nearby shelf and yell again.

“Fuck off! Leave the poor thing alone!”

They all laugh insufferably, the way most stuck up teenagers do.

“Or what?”

You shrug on your raincoat, picking up the baseball bat you keep strategically placed by your couch.

“Or I’ll come down and make you, jackass!”

You kick open your  fire escape, slippers already damp, and start marching down the staircases. The boys get the message and run away, still jeering and laughing. Seems you weren’t as intimidating as you’d like.

You shuffle down the fire escape, slowing down as you approach the poor creature. You lower your back and peak under the dumpster.

“It's okay, little guy, I won’t hurt ya.” You set down your bat and crouch, kissing your lips as you hold out your free hand. All you see is a hint of glowing eyes, nervously peering out, before the dark shape disappears completely, hidden by the shadow of the dumpster. You’re tempted to sit down and wait for it, hoping to check if the poor stray was injured, but the wet concrete looks unappealing. The bottom of your sweats are already drenched.

You stand up, sigh, and go back up the fire escape. You unlatch the dusty pet door on your sliding glass balcony and make sure to leave a hot thing of milk and some water just outside. You ponder going out to get cat food, but the well-timed weather report tells you to stay off the streets. Slumping back down on the couch, you keep on eye on your fire escape, hoping that whatever it was, it’s okay.

--------------

The next day is sunny, the rain clearing away any air pollution and leaving blue skies to shine down through your window, waking you up extra early. As you sit down with a cup of coffee, switching on the news before starting work, you notice the empty bowls on your balcony.

You set down the mug, walking over to the door and checking the bowls. Seems that little stray had needed the refreshment, as both were licked clean.

You refill them, making sure to add  cat food to your grocery list.

--------------

After a long day of work, you’re feeling particularly domestic and decide to bake some cookies. Your brain is sore after staring at a screen for eight hours straight, a simple task like this is the perfect thing to keep it from melting completely.

You open up your window, letting the cool night air into your kitchen as you check  on your baking cookies. Wiping flour off your pants, you turn on the radio and throw a glance to your living room.

You had set up a tiny blanket pallet right next to your pet door, the weatherman’s warning of another thunderstorm tonight having you worried for your stray. Hopefully a full belly of milk will convince them that your house is safe enough to find shelter in.

But the afternoon is beautiful, not too cold and not too hot, only the slight tang of metal in the air hinting to rain. With a ding from the oven, you take out the cookies and set them on a cooling tray on your window. The smell of cinnamon and sugar wafts over you as you take a sip of your tea, staring out into the city streets. Small puddles still speckle the pavement, catching the headlights of nearby cars and flashy billboards.

A quick sound, something hitting your balcony door, that jerks you out of your reverie. You set down your mug and slowly peek out from your kitchen, wondering if you should’ve grabbed  a kitchen knife. But it’s just your pet door, flapping back and forth in front of two, now empty, bowls. Aww, seems your stray took a step inside. Too bad you missed it.

The gurgle of your stomach convinces you to take a crack at the cookies. If they were too hot, you could just wash them down with a nice glass of milk anyway. Maybe even put on a sitcom while you snack.

You lightly tap the top cookie; Warm, but not unbearable. Steam rises as you break it open, blowing in the middle and taking a tiny bite.

Fuck, good job _____.

They’re perfectly done, just soft enough to melt in your mouth. You grab two more, holding them in between your fingers as you hold the other half in your mouth. Maybe you could bring the batch into work tomorrow, give your coworkers a nice surprise. That is if you didn't have 10 tonight. But 20 should be just enough-

Huh, that’s weird. There's only 19, including the one still dangling out of your mouth.

You could’ve sworn you baked 20.

Well whatever. Your coworkers can handle not coming back for seconds tomorrow.

--------------

“Ow! Fuck!”

You bite your lip, trying not to yell out more curse words as you rub your stubbed toe. You limp to your kitchen, fumbling for the light switch to avoid another incident. All you had wanted was a midnight sweet snack, was that so difficult? You’d thought you could navigate your apartment pretty easily in the dark, but the pain in your foot says otherwise.

The light flickers as you finally find the switch, reminding you that you’re going to need to change the bulb sometime soon. But that's a problem for another day; Right now, it’s cookie time.

You don’t bother pouring yourself a glass or getting a plate, devouring the treat in three bites and throwing back a quick swig of milk. It’s almost midnight, not like anyone’s watching-

Oh, wait.

You slowly close the fridge door, trying to make as little noise as possible so as not to wake the little stray curled up, asleep. The little ball of black was snuggled into the pallet, tossing and turning. A flash of lightning cracks outside your apartment, washing your living room with light. The ball jerks in shock, the thunder afterwards only frightening it more, forcing it to curl up even tighter.  

You take small and light steps towards the tiny bed, not wanting to approach the scared beast too quickly. The room is lit up again by another lightning strike and the little stray forces it’s body backwards and away from the window. You crouch down real low, the small bits of light helping your eyes adjust to the layout.

“How are you doing, little guy?” You whisper, mostly to yourself, tapping your fingers against your carpet. Part of you wants to pet it, but think it might be better not to. No need to startle it. “Is the lightning scary? You can come to my room if you want, I’ll protect ya.”

Midst the black, you see two little eyes, little blips of light that open with another flash of lightning. But they aren’t yellow, nor are they slitted, nor are they anything remotely animal.

They're like the headlights of a car, blinding white with no definition at all. Not even pupils. You're startled, eye’s widening as the creature lifts it’s head. A long smile runs across their face, full of razor sharp teeth.

“Oh my, that sounds delightful.” They purr, and you find yourself losing your footing and falling back on your ass. Your fingers dig into the carpet as their body slowly begins to unfurl out of a ball and stretch into a massive form, as if their whole size had been hidden away somewhere else; Like it had been literally in the shadows.

You scramble backwards, breath picking up as the creature stretches it’s long limbs, colorless eyes still locked onto you as it stands up and up. It rolls back its shoulders as it sits on its haunches, its form still towering over you even when crouched. You notice the shades of huge antlers sticking out from the side of their head, only adding to their intimidating height.

The creature still has that terrifying smile, all canines and no molars, it’s unblinking eyes still staring deep into your soul.

You’ve heard people do weird things in times of high stress, of strong emotions, good and bad. Like the wires in your brains get crossed when trying to find the right response.

“Uh, do you want a cookie?”

You think you get that now.

The creature chuckles, a soft timbre that echoes unnaturally.

“No, dearie, I have already indulged in your confections. You see,” They creature leans forward, falling to its knees to crawl towards you. If it weren’t for the overwhelming fear constricting your heart, you’d almost think it was seductive, “You’ve done so much for me these past days, I think it’d be only fair if I helped you indulge in a far-” The creature’s face looms over yours, their arms caging your sides as they lick their lips, “-sweeter treat, yes?”

Your eyes search their face, trying to find signs of trickery or malice, maybe even some demonic sense of humor.

As if I’d even know what that looks like.

“Are you-” You catch a breath, now noticing the fine musculature of their shoulders, and the definition of their arms, “Are you propositioning me, like, for sex?”

The creature laughs again, their eyes crinkling up as they throw their head back. But when they look back down at you, you can almost feel the lust radiating off their gaze, details be damned.

“Yes, lovely, I am.”

You take your eyes off their face, a little too overwhelmed to stare directly into their blistering expression. Not to mention the blinding light which has begun to put red spots into your vision.

Instead, your eyes fall upon their thick thighs, the small tail waving behind them, and how unnervingly sexy you find the way their claws are digging up your rug.

You slowly move your head, catching the creature’s eyes.

“I-uh-I guess? Yeah, yeah I guess that sounds good. Um, what was your name?”

The creature smirks, a single claw tipped finger tilting up your chin, as they whisper,

“Nocter.”

--------------

Well, this is definitely the weirdest way I’ve gotten someone into bed.

Nocter’s antlers brush against your stucco-ceiling as it pushes you down on the bed, their shining white eyes staring deep into yours. Their lack of pupils is almost unsettling, but when they run their claws down your chest and pinch your nipples, you find it hard to care. You bite your lip, fighting back an embarrassing whimper as they trace one finger around the bud, pebbling the skin.

“Aww, has it been a while, sweetling?” You roll your eyes, but let out another squeak as they flick their thumb across your other nipple, the palm of their hand pressing against your ribcage.

“M-maybe.” You mutter, digging your finger into your bed sheets as their hands dance across your skin. One pulls up the bottom of your pajama shirt as it nudges one of their legs in between your thighs, pushing their knee up against your crotch.

“Don’t worry,” They push the fabric up to your neck, laying a kiss on the center of your stomach, then your chest, and then your jugular. When they plant one on your jaw, they lean in real close, “I’ll make sure to treat you right.”

Nocter’s long tongue splays against your jaw, licking a stripe up your cheek as one of their hands moves from your chest to the waistband of your shorts. They slip a couple fingers underneath, lightly petting the area right above your crotch. They’re such a tease, and you love it.

Nocter pecks the side of your face, over and over, while their hand moves further and further down your body at an agonizing pace. Their hot breath sends goosebumps down your neck, washing over your face as they exhale with every kiss. You catch them off guard when you turn your head toward them, catching their lips-mid peck and eagerly sticking your tongue outward. They purr with delight, their thin almost-lips quickly devouring you.

A long string of saliva connects the two of you as you detach, taking the time to shimmy out of your shirt. You pull them closer, your hands digging into their shoulder muscles and fingers just brushing over the long ridges on their back. They chuckle once again, pulling their fingers out your shorts and merely digging their palm into the fabric of your crotch.

“Eager, huh?”

“Shut up,” You mumble in between kisses, “This is for me, isn’t it?”

“Ohoho,” kiss, “Someone’s showing their feisty side a little early.” kiss, “What happened to my benevolent, saintly saviour?” kiss.

You pull away from their lips, quickly latching onto the crux of their neck and taking a nip. “S’not fair.” You say, taking a deep whiff of their skin as you suck and bite. They smell like brimstone and a bonfire, not quite what you 're expecting, but not unpleasant. “You can’t tease me like that and not-” Your cut off as the pad of one Nocters fingers presses up against your entrance, the fabric only amplifying the sensation as they begin to tease it.

“Deliver?” Nocter finishes, sinfully smug. You throw them a glare. “I’m a good guest, scout’s honor.”

You roll your eyes right before they lock you into another kiss, rubbing the pads of their fingers up and down your crotch. They use their hand to push you backwards, sinking deeper into the mattress as they situate their knees under your thighs. One they pull back from the kiss, your face and lips thoroughly debauched, your legs are splayed up on their pelvis and they easily slip off your bottoms. Nocter takes a whiff of your underwear, the crotch now slightly damp, giving you a wink before they throw it over their shoulder.

You jerk your hips slightly upward, and Nocter tuts.

“Patience, sweetling.” They roll a hand down your abdomen, fingers splaying onto your stomach, nails just teasing the skin. With a kiss to your inside calf, Nocters hand ghosts across your entrance. You can’t help biting your lip, the heat and their touch sending your mind into a frenzy.

They continue a path of kisses down your leg, now pressing their finger right up against your hole. They only pause to suck on their index and middle fingers, coating them with a heavy and blue-tinted saliva. Once they’ve reached the middle of your thigh, nipping at the apex, they sink into you.

Nocter’s fingers are long, articulated and move with sure movements. They start off slow, scissoring you open, simpering as you dig your nails into your bed sheets. The pads of their fingers push against your walls, just grazing sensitive spots as they make a slow ‘come hither’ motion. Your hips jerk forward, humping into their palm. They smirk against your skin, nipping another love bite as they retract their fingers until only the tip remains. You catch your breath, holding it until they sink back into you, shoving their fingers forward with far more force.

You whimper as their fingers pull back, only to follow with quicker thrusts. Nocter’s aim is pin-point in finding the most pleasurable spots inside you, the feeling only amplified by the pinpricks of their teeth into the fat of your thigh. The tip of their tongue licks hot trails of spit tantalizingly close to your hole, which clenches around their bony fingers. The slick sound of your juices, the skin of their palm slapping against yours, is downright pornographic.

Your legs try to clamp around their shoulders, the overwhelming stimuli triggering an instant reaction, but Nocter pins your right leg down to your bed easily, never losing focus on fingering you. The tips of their claws trace the inside of your leg, the hard edge of their wrist digging into fat.  Your fingers reach to grip around something, anything to keep you grounded as the knot in your stomach grows tighter and tighter. They find their way around Nocter’s left wrist; You’re almost afraid you’ll leave bruises, before remembering how sturdy every part of their body seems to be.

You let out a whimper as the crests of an orgasm seem to overwhelm you, nearly gasping as Nocter quickly removes their fingers. In any other state of mind you might have made a comment, look down and wonder why they’ve stopped. But the heat in your belly compels you to grip their wrist tight and to throw your hips upwards. With a desperate breath, you plead,

“P-please! Please, don’t stop.”

Nocter doesn’t chuckle, doesn’t make a sly remark about your neediness or your lewd movements. They lean forward, giving another kiss right below your navel, and pet your wrist.

“Of course, dearie.”

With a wink, they lean down a lick a long stripe up your hole, giving one last kiss to your leg before plunging their tongue inside.

You didn’t think it was possible for them to reach even deeper inside you with their tongue than their fingers, but the sparks which fly in your core say otherwise. The ridges of Nocters tongue brush against your walls as they flick the appendage back and forth, the tip pressing forward with controlled motions. It doesn’t thrash back and forward haphazardly, but reaches for those sensitive spots and plays with them.

“Oh, f-fuck!” You yelp, feeling an icy-cold liquid run down your ass. From the sound of smacking lips and muffled moans, it must be Nocter’s saliva. They let out a groan, pushing their jaw forward as their eyes clenched shut. The hand on your leg pinches skin as it tightens up, the other pressing your hips down, but the pressure they apply is phantom at best. Nocter seems to revel in your pleading humps for more, meeting each movement with a thrust of their jaw, the base of their tongue stretching you open.

The two of you keep that rhythm for what feels like an eternity, but is probably only a couple of minutes. Sweat drips down your chest and off of your belly, your legs muscles on fire as you continue to push upward and into Nocter’s face. You start feeling that impending wave begin to crest again, with your limbs shaking and your throat hoarse.

“Nocter, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna-I’m so close!”

This time, Nocter doesn’t let up on their pace, reaching one hand down to deliver a hard slap on your ass and forcing a yelp out of you. Your speech devolves into slurred curses and your hands move to touch them, to find some grasp in reality. Nocter continues to suck and tongue-fuck your hole as your thighs clench around their head. Your humps are tiny and weak, your lower half barely holding itself up.

The knot gets tighter, a firecracker fuse about to blow in your abdomen. In the heat of the moment, your hands find their way to Nocter’s scalp and grab onto the base of their antlers. Their moan rumbles through you, right before you yank their head forward, their tongue hitting the deepest part of you as you shutter and-

“I’m cumming!”

Another moan vibrates against your hole as your body shudders and jolts, your hips still pressed firmly against Nocter’s face. But in the next moment, a heavy weight falls over your body, slumping you down onto the bed. Your chest heaves, eye’s fuzzy as Nocter’s tongue ‘pop’s out of you.

Your gaze wanders over your stucco ceiling, droplets of sweat rolling down your neck as you try and catch your breath. You can feel Nocter’s large hands rolling a massage into your thighs, their own heavy breathing brushing over your crotch.

A fuzzy shape of pure black comes into your vision as Nocter hovers over you, their body hovering just an inch above yours. They give you a small peck on the cheek.

“Feel good?” They whisper.

All you can do is nod, your shaky hands wandering over their back. There’s no sign of sweat on their skin, but you can feel the heat running off of it as they nuzzle into your neck.

As your fingers dance over the ride of their back, you can hear the rumble of a low purr coming from their chest, but they stay hovering over your body. You press your hands into their back, applying weak pressure to encourage them to relax.

“It seems I’ve repaid my debt.” Nocter murmurs into your ear, pushing themselves up onto their hands, pulling even farther from you as their eye’s look around your room. You keep your hands wrapped around their waist, stopping them from fully getting up. They look back to you, white eyes slightly widening.

“Would you-” You take another deep breath, “Want to stay? For the night?”

Nocter stares at you, the black void of their face almost unreadable. But when they run a claw down the side of your face, it burns with affection and longing.

“Would you want that?”

Your room is nearly pitch black, only the lights of the street peeking in between your curtains. Nocter’s body seems to absorb all light near it, their hot body like a heating pad. But their eyes are so bright, so full, so mesmerizing; Like a full moon on the dark city sky.

“Yes, I would.”

Nocter’s nods, their expression barely changing, but you think you can see a hint of a smile amidst all the black. They let their body relax, pressing their chest against yours as they sink into the sheets and nuzzle back into your neck.

You can smell the sweat coating your body and feel the way you stick to the sheets. Frankly, the both of you kind of smell.

But it doesn’t stop you from snuggling into Nocter’s body, eye’s heavy as you peacefully fall into sleep.

[kohanayaki]

.:Survive the Tide:. (Eddie Munson x Reader) Ch 5

A/n: Time to tackle S4 part 2! We are straying far from the cannon, my friends. TW: gore, violence, disturbing Vecna visions

LINKS:   Part 1    Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5 _____________________________________________

Ch 5 .:Convergence:.

“No, no no no,” Eddie cradled your face in his hands, shaking you, trying to get you to show any sign that you could hear him. Your eyes were completely rolled into the back of your head, your body deathly still, and Eddie felt fear twist its knife into his gut as he remembered Chrissy, standing in the exact same spot that you were before she. . .

No.

He wasn't going to let that happen. Not this time. Not to you.

“Robin we need music, now!” Steve shouted through the gate, “and try to get in contact with Dustin and the rest of the kids, the radio's in your bag!”

“I'm on it!” she yelled back, already retrying the channels on the walkie talkie and rummaging through Eddie's tapes.

Amidst the commotion Nancy was the only one that caught the inky black vines slowly creeping towards you on the floor, and as one of them coiled around your ankle alarms rang out in her head. She reached out and grabbed your arm just as your body shot back towards the open door of the trailer, the vines trying to pull you outside.

“Shit!” Eddie cursed as he lurched forward with you, trying desperately to pull you back. Steve took your knife out from your jacket pocket, slashing at the vines around your legs, but it seemed like every one he cut through was replaced in an instant. Nancy could feel her footing slipping as the vines climbed higher and higher up your body, their hold on you growing stronger.

“(Y/n), please,” Nancy begged, “I know you're in there. Wake up!”

______________________________________________________

'Wake up,' you mentally kicked yourself, 'none of this is real. . .'

You knew that, but every nerve in your body was telling you it was. This was your room. Every detail was laid out exactly as you knew it— the familiar feeling of your bed when you'd landed on it, the posters and photographs, even the plastered over hole in the drywall from when you'd thrown a fit in middle school. And then there was Billy, sitting on your bed across from you like he was still alive.

“What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?” he grinned, but the expression felt off. It was hollow; not quite reaching his eyes.

Waves of conflicting emotion crashed against your psyche all at once. Confusion, grief, longing, betrayal, sadness, anger. There were so many things left unresolved between you that it made your head pound and your heart ache. But you had to force yourself to come back to reality.

“You're not real,” you said, fighting to keep your voice from shaking, “you. . . you're dead. I was just at the gate in Eddie's trailer, I'm not actually here. . .”

Billy's brow creased, his head slowly tilting to the side. His movements were deliberate. Calculated. Nothing at all like him. You were frozen in place as he approached you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. His hand was ice cold but you jerked away from his touch like you'd been burned. Fear shot up your spine, yelling at you to get the hell out of there.

“Don't touch me,” you said, stumbling slightly as you backed away from him.

“(Y/n),” the image of Billy tutted, snapping the red notebook in his hands shut and tossing it on your desk. He put out his cigarette on the wood next to it, his eyes flickering up to yours. “That's all you have to say? I gotta admit I expected more from you, sweetheart. After all. . . you let me die.”

You felt bile rise in your throat as red suddenly began to seep through his white tank top, blooming from the center of his chest. The fabric ripped open by itself as Billy slowly walked towards you, a hole in his torso growing and growing until you could see the other side of your room clean through him. Your vision blurred and you felt tears burn behind your eyes, spilling over and down your cheeks.

As he reached out for you again, your fight or flight response jolted through your body, making you move without thinking. You quickly grabbed the reading lamp from your desk, smashing it into the side of his head. You shoved him aside with all the force your could muster, running past him to your door. You should have noticed that something was wrong when you were able to swing it open when it had been locked before, but your brain was just telling you to run, overriding everything else in your mind.

You slammed the door behind you, about to take off down the stairs until you realized you were no longer in your house. You were in Eddie's trailer, standing in the middle of the living room. Your eyes darted up to the ceiling, looking for a way to escape, but the gate wasn't there.

'That's because this is all in your head,' you reminded yourself, the logic cutting through the noise in your brain for a split second, 'you have to fight this.'

But as soon as your eyes drifted down from the ceiling you cried out, Billy suddenly not a foot away from you. You turned to run but he was there again, seemingly in front of you no matter where you looked. His skin was gray and decomposed, eyes pure white and glassy. Blood stained his clothes and hair, and open sores ate away at his body, exposing the chords of muscle and bone beneath.

“You let me die. . .” he repeated, maggots falling from his mouth as he spoke and his voice distorted into a guttural growl.

Billy's face began to morph. His skin moved like liquid, melting and rearranging itself on his face. His hair darkened and uncurled to past his shoulders, his clothes flickered into different colors, and to your horror the final result was Eddie staring back at you, speaking in the same distorted voice.

“. . . and you replaced me without a second thought.”

______________________________________________________

“Robin, where's that music?!” Steve yelled over his shoulder.

“I can't find a player anywhere!” Robin's voice echoed through the gate, “and Dustin isn't answering!”

Steve, Nancy, and Eddie were losing you fast; your body was now halfway out the door of Eddie's trailer, the vines pulling you down the steps and towards the forest.

“Then we need fire,” Nancy said, bracing herself against the door frame, “Anything flammable you've got!”

Eddie's eyes darted from you to his kitchen and back again, an idea forming in his head.

“Buckley, there's a bottle of tequila in the cabinet under the sink,” Eddie called out, his grip on your body slipping, “Throw it down here!”

He left your side for only a second to catch the liquor Robin tossed through the gate.

“Try Henderson again,” he told her quickly, “code fucking red!”

Robin nodded, disappearing to the radio while Eddie ran back outside to where Steve and Nancy had lost another three feet between you and the forest's edge.

Eddie's eyes traced the vines wrapped around you to a central mass of them near the trees, and he immediately set off towards it. He uncorked the bottle, pouring it over the vines until it was empty.

“Don't even think about it, you bastards!” he seethed, taking his lighter out of his pocket and a page from your book as he lit the alcohol and set the entire root system ablaze. He stumbled to the side to avoid the flames, and a screeching sound pierced his ears as the roots writhed and retracted, loosening their grip on you just enough for Steve and Nancy to pull you away.

Eddie rushed over to you, checking to see if you were responsive in any way, but you still were in a catatonic state, starting to tremble slightly.

“We need to get her out of here, now,” Nancy said, hooking your arm over her shoulder as she started to make her way back inside the trailer. Steve moved to help her, but Eddie was frozen as he caught a slither of movement in his peripheral vision.

“Wheeler, watch out!”

But his words of caution were a second too slow. A thick vine suddenly latched itself around Nancy's waist, flinging her across the room. Nancy hit the wall with a loud thud!, the back of her head smacking hard against the metal.

“Nancy!” Steve shouted as she slumped over. Before he could do anything, the vines coiled around him too, pulling him to the opposite side of the trailer and out of reach.

“Shit!” Eddie panicked, trying to force the door closed, but fresh vines emerged from outside, prying it open and nearly ripping it off its hinges. His eyes darted to you and he bolted to your side, barely catching your arm before he felt something wrap around his calf and he was pulled away. Eddie lost his grip on you, your body still standing in the middle of the room. He tried in vain to reach you as the vines wrapped around his legs and wrists, fastening him against the wall. He yelled out as he used every ounce of his strength to try and break free, but the vines only tightened around him.

It was then that they heard a horribly familiar shrill shriek cut through the air from outside, the chorus of growls and the flapping of wings confirming their fears. A group of five or so demobats swooped down from the sky, entering the trailer in a whirl of gray skin and fangs. Steve, Nancy, and Eddie prepared themselves for the inevitable bites, but they never came. Instead, the bats began to circle you, eventually wrapping their tails around your arms and torso.

“NO!” Eddie shouted, pulling at the vines as he realized what they were about to do, but he could only watch as the bats managed to lift your limp form a few feet off the ground, slowly dragging you out of the trailer and heading to the forest. He let out a guttural cry as he saw you disappear from his sight, doubling down on his efforts to break free. The vines tightened again in response, and he began to feel the circulation cutting off in his fingers and toes. He let out a gargled gasp as he felt one wrap around his neck, coiling up his windpipe.

“Eddie!” Steve grunted, looking around for something to get them out of this. Your knife on the floor was completely out of his reach. Nancy groaned and shifted on the ground, unable to get up. “Shit,” he cursed, gritting his teeth as he felt the vines squeezing at the fresh wounds on his abdomen, pain shooting through his body.

He refused to give up. There was no way they were losing you and going out like this, but this time it really did seem like there was nothing he could do.

Just as Eddie began to see dark spots dance in his vision, a crash rang out in the trailer as Robin came sliding down the rope through the gate, tumbling to the floor and ignoring the friction burns on her hands. She quickly picked up what she had dropped from her fall, which Steve realized was a can of hairspray. Robin gave it a few shakes before flicking her lighter on and placing it in front of the nozzle.

“This better work like it does in the movies,” she said, taking a step back as she unleashed a stream of flames on the vines closest to Eddie. The screeching from the vines was twice as loud as they were from the alcohol fire before, the continuous heat making them retreat from Eddie's throat and limbs, dropping him unceremoniously to the floor. He coughed out as fresh air entered his burning lungs, gasping as the oxygen flooded back to his brain.

Robin turned quickly, catching a few sneaking vines in her line of fire that were making their way towards her before doing the same to the ones trapping Steve. He winced as he fell to his knees, the pressure on his wounds finally letting up.

Robin turned her makeshift flamethrower to the vines littering the ceiling and floor, the heat rushing across her skin as she torched the rest of them for extra measure. Finally the vines' squeals and shrieks died out, their movements down to a few limp twitches here and there. She knew it wouldn't kill them off permanently, but they'd at least bought themselves some more time.

“They have her,” Eddie told Robin, his voice breaking as she helped pull him to his feet, “they took (Y/n).”

Nancy's head swam from her position on the floor, Eddie's words echoing in the back of her mind. You were gone? No. . . That couldn't be right. She slowly forced herself to stand, ignoring the throbbing of her brain against her skull as she held herself up.

“Nancy,” Steve said, limping over to her as he got his bearings, “Are you okay? Take it easy, alright?”

But his words flew right past her. Her eyes focused loosely on the open door of the trailer, and Steve seemed to realize what she planned on doing right as she sprang into action.

“Nancy, no!” Steve screamed after, but there was no stopping her. Nancy raced down the steps, barely stopping to turn over her shoulder and shout,

“Find a way to get music to her. Something loud!”

She kept running, bearing with the burning in her legs as she reached the end of the trailer park. Spotting a row of abandoned bikes leaning against the fence, she selected one at random and took off in your direction. There was only once place those bats could be taking you. Sure enough, she heard the screech of the demobats as she approached the main road that led all the way down to the Creel house. Nancy sped up her pedaling as she spotted you, keeping her eyes trained on your figure as she closed the distance between you. She refused to lose anyone today.

______________________________________________________

The Eddie in front of you was not Eddie. He looked exactly like him, even wearing the clothes you had last seen him in right down to the new tears in his Hellfire shirt, but the malicious expression that took over his face was one of a stranger.

“That's all I am to you, right?” the copy said, approaching you, “A replacement. A filler to ease that guilt in your heart; to tell you Billy's death wasn't your fault when it was.”

You fought the sob in your chest as the thing in front of you took on Eddie's voice, replacing the distorted monotone from before.

“And that's not even the worst part,” Eddie's voice chuckled darkly.

“(Y/n). . .”

At the sound of the new voice you turned on impulse, your heart breaking as you saw Chrissy standing there in her cheer uniform, just like the last time you ever spoke.

“You actually thought I did it, didn't you?” Eddie's voice taunted you, the sound surrounding you, “When the police report first came out.”

In the blink of an eye Eddie was suddenly standing behind Chrissy, one hand at her neck, the other tightly grasping one of her wrists.

“(Y/n),” Chrissy whimpered, tears flowing down her cheeks, “Help me. . .”

A blood-curdling sound left Chrissy as Eddie snapped her wrist, and a scream tore through your throat as you squeezed your eyes shut hard.

'It's not real,' you told yourself, tears flowing down your face as you desperately tried to suppress the fear and panic flooding your body,  'You know what this is. Don't let him win. . .'

Your hands balled into fists at your side, wrangling your fear into submission. Billy would never make you feel guilty over his death, and Eddie would never blame you for your suspicions while you were grieving the death of a friend. He would never hurt anyone. You knew that. You knew them.

Suddenly, the room seemed to go cold, and you felt a new presence that made your stomach churn. There were no doubts as to who it was that was taunting you. Torturing you. Invading your mind. You forced yourself to release the breath trapped in your lungs before you slowly opened your eyes, facing him for the first time.

The second he came into focus in your vision, you had to fight not to cry out. To run. You'd heard him described by Max, but that was nothing compared to actually standing in front of him.

The aura emitting from him was oppressive— suffocating. He seemed to tower over you despite the distance between you, his form thin and gangly but terrifying none the less. His skin was desecrated, his entire face and body made up of what looked like gray scar tissue with thick chords of tendon exposed in his neck and chest. The planes of his face were hardened and fixed into a permanent scowl, his nose a carved out indentation in the middle of his monstrous visage.

The only thing that looked even vaguely human about him was his left eye, startlingly blue in contrast with his right which was almost entirely rotted out. Every subtle movement from him released a horrid squelching sound; you could hear his skin tearing and the joints of his bones scraping together as he walked. He radiated power. An ugly, purely evil power that made you sick just standing in it— breathing it in.

This was Vecna's true form.

______________________________________________________

“This is a terrible idea,” Steve said frantically, following Eddie through his trailer.

“You got a better one, pretty boy?” Eddie huffed, throwing the tangled mess of guitar chords over his shoulder and shoving a pedal board into Steve's hands, “Even if Wheeler gets (Y/n)'s body back, Vecna will still have control over her mind. I'm not doubting her, but as far as we know no one's been able to snap out of that trance by themselves. Wheeler's right, she needs music. And this is the fastest way to get it to her.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” Steve said incredulously, “Let's say somehow your incredibly stupid plan works and she can hear the song wherever she is. If the sound reaches her, it'll reach those bats too, and the rest will come straight for you.”

Eddie turned to face Steve, shooting him a tight grin as he grabbed the rope between the gates, his guitar already slung across his back.

“Then I guess you'll have to help cover me, won't you, Harrington?”

Steve and Robin looked at each other, an unspoken exchange between them. Robin tore open the kitchen drawer, pulling out a long, metal skewer and giving Steve an expectant look. Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers before looking back up at Eddie, decided.

“You got a bat somewhere?”

______________________________________________________

You forced yourself to stand your ground, Vecna's one-eyed stare penetrating your soul. He simply stood there, showing no sign of making a move to kill you, which is the first thing you thought he would do. After all that he had the gall to do nothing. You furiously wiped your tears away with the back of your hand, your nails digging into the skin of your palms.

“What do you want with me?” you asked, your voice raw and tired and charged with anger, “I was never marked. The headaches, the visions, the clock, none of that. Why get inside my head?”

“Do not think you're so special,” he said, his voice layers of deep, frayed echoes that boomed through the space, “It could have been any one of your friends. You were simply the easiest to break.”

“Then why haven't you killed me already?” you said boldly, though your voice betrayed the intense fear you felt.

Vecna's chest rumbled in something almost like a chuckle as he tilted his head slowly to look at you.

“Peculiar, the human mind,” he said, “You don't think anything like other species. For example, spiders. They are intelligent. Opportunistic. Willing to kill their counter parts if it means their own survival. Humans are weak creatures. When one of their own is taken from them, the rest of their pathetic little pack will do anything to get them back, even if it means their own destruction. . .”

______________________________________________________

“We're gonna die,” Robin said, clutching the barbecue skewer in her hands.

“We're not going to die,” Steve said firmly. He doubled knotted the last of the fabric strips they'd woven through the holes of the metal fence in front of Eddie's trailer, kerosene still dripping from the wet material.

“So how sure are we that the top of this isn't coming down?” Steve asked Eddie, gesturing to the metal awning above them, crudely fastened to the fence with loose wire and rope.

“Not very,” Eddie replied, shoving an aluminum bat into Steve's grip.

“Great,” Steve mumbled, “Maybe we are gonna die.”

The dark clouds above them swirled with the force of the wind, intermittent flashes of vermilion lightning occasionally cutting through the smog. They had about twelve by twelve feet of fenced off area to work with, and the smell of gasoline was strong in the air. Not the most ideal place for a concert, but it would have to do.

A momentary crack of feedback was heard as Eddie plugged in his guitar, cranking his amp as high as the volume would go. He snapped his guitar pick necklace off in one quick motion, feeling the familiar weight of it in his hands.

Music. . . a song that held meaning for you. . . something loud.

He took a deep breath, running through the tabs of the song in his mind one last time. With a click of the pedal at his feet the drum track kicked in, and Eddie looked to the sky, praying that you would hear and that he was playing it right.

______________________________________________________

As Vecna's words sunk in so too did your stomach, horrid realization washing over you.

“You're using me as bait,” you said.

“The girl will come for you,” Vecna said simply, “Perhaps they all will, in a futile rescue attempt. And they will fall.”

El. . . the others. . . you would never let that happen. But you also knew that they would do anything to get you back, just like he said. Your eyes flickered around the room, looking for some way to escape, and Vecna grunted disapprovingly.

“It's no use,” he said, “your body is already within my grasp. . .”

A vision suddenly flashed behind your eyelids. You could see the road beneath you, but your feet weren't moving. The flapping of wings was loud in your ears, and something was approaching you from the road below. The blurry image sharpened for a fraction of a second to reveal someone on a bike. Was that Nancy? You gasped as the image disappeared, taken from you as quickly as it was given.

“. . . and your mind is weak,” Vecna finished.

He took a menacing step forward, seemingly crossing the length of the room in one step. The lights around you began to flicker vigorously, and as he raised his left hand your body suddenly stiffened, and you were unable to move.

“Until the time comes, it's time for you to sleep.”

You tried to cry out but realized you couldn't open your mouth. Every muscle in your body was under his control.

He raised one finger, your body slowly lifting off the ground to be eye-level with him.

“Do not worry,” he said lowly, “When you awaken, your friends will already be dead.”

Suddenly, something shook the room; a low rumbling sound. You thought you'd imagined it at first— a warbling note, just barely audible to you. But when you realized Vecna's brow had furrowed, you knew it wasn't your imagination. You focused on the sound, and the more you honed in on it the clearer it became, gradually taking the shape of something more concrete.

That's when you realized.

The sound was an electric guitar, its tone rich and vibrant. It was playing a song you knew, although rearranged— slightly faster, a slightly different feel. And although there was no one singing the lyrics, the guitar played the vocal melody of the words you already knew.  

'Girl, you're the California breeze that sends me on my way. . .’

Billy's song for you.

And you knew the only person that could possibly be playing it was Eddie.

You couldn't help it; you laughed.

Your heart swelled in your chest; fresh tears prickled at your eyes, but you were smiling ear to ear. Your reaction seemed to give Vecna genuine pause. You just kept on laughing.

Your memories of Eddie came flooding in as the music grew louder: That very first day he'd tapped you on the shoulder from that tree, surprising you in the most delightful way with a conversation you never thought you'd have. Seeing the joy and passion in his eyes as you watched him play his show at the Hideout, and the way he looked at you afterwards that night in his trailer. How he always managed to make you laugh even when you were at your lowest. . .

“You're something else, (L/n),”

“What won you over? My roguish charm?”

“Besides, I can't die yet. I never got to see Labyrinth with you.”

“In my experience, if someone sacrifices his life for the rest of his party, he did it so that they could live theirs to the fullest potential. Jumping back into this shit head first, being as fearless as you are after everything you've seen. . . I think he'd be proud.”

A surge of power and determination rushed through your body, and before you knew what you were doing, you found yourself able to move again. You raised your legs, much to Vecna's surprise, kicking him square in the chest before you dropped to the floor with a yelp. It wasn't enough to do any actual damage, but the force of it combined with Vecna's shock that you had broken out of his control was enough to give you time, which is all you needed.

Without looking back you scrambled to your feet, ripping the door of the trailer open and slamming it shut behind you. The florescent light that you walked into blinded you momentarily. You winced, squinting as your eyes adjusted to the sudden change.

You could still hear Eddie's playing, but the music had become fainter again; the sound of it distant. If Max's experience was anything to go off of, you just had to follow it to the source.

As your vision finally cleared, you were met with a bright white room. One pair of large double doors seemed to be the only way in or out. As you looked around you noticed various children's toys and board games in different colors littered the tables and floor around you. And as you saw the multicolored stripe of paint following the angles of the walls, you realized what you had just walked into.

You were in the Rainbow Room.

It was exactly as El had described it when she recounted her past. But how were you there? These weren't your memories.

Cautiously, you pushed open the doors, and the music immediately became clearer in the hallway. You took off down it, rounding a corner before skidding to a stop at what you saw. There was someone standing in the next hall with their back facing you. They were wearing a form fitting white velcra suit, their head shaven. You approached them cautiously, and it dawned on you that this was the first person you'd encountered in this mind prison that didn't feel like Vecna underneath. Their presence was benign— familiar. If you didn't know any better, you might have even thought it was. . .

“El?”

And to your complete and utter shock, she turned around to face you, looking equally surprised.

“(Y/n)?”

______________________________________________________

Nancy had nearly caught up with you on her bike, the bats picking up their pace as they headed down the main road. Nancy could hear the music from the trailer, and it seemed like you could too. Even as you remained unconscious, Nancy caught the slightest twitch of your hand as the sound of the guitar reached you. Whatever they were playing back there, it was working.

'Come on, (Y/n),' Nancy thought, 'You can fight this. Just hang on a little bit longer. . .'

______________________________________________________

Eddie had never been so focused on playing a piece of music in his life. Usually when he was putting on a show, he was performing original songs he'd written and rehearsed time and time again with his band. The riffs and solos felt like second nature to him, but this was different. This was someone else's music. Someone other than him poured their heart and soul into this song, and although he still firmly held his belief that Billy Hargrove was an asshole, Eddie wanted to do it justice; for you if nothing else.

Every note he played, every chord, every click of the pedal beneath his feet felt like he was fighting for your life, and the thought only made him twice as determined even though he knew what was coming.

Steve heard them before he saw them; a hundred tiny screeches, overlapping and echoing each other. He watched them appear over the horizon like black static washing over the sky.

“Holy shit,” Robin said, her eyes trained on the swirling cloud of demobats headed straight for them.

“Get ready,” Eddie said, never pausing his playing for a second.

All three of them took an instinctive leap back as the bats crashed into the fence, their necks reaching through the gaps in the metal, talons clawing at the ropes above. The fence rattled wildly as the bats immediately tried to find a way inside.

“Light 'em up, Harrington!”

At Eddie's command Steve reached out with his lighter, igniting the kerosene strips woven into the fence. They watched the flames race across the surface, catching on each piece of fabric until they were faced with a wall of fire in front of them. The demobats squealed, spiraling away from the flames as it lapped at their wings and tails.

Some of them took off, but most of them tried to find a way around, going straight for the gaps between the awning roof and the fence. Robin jumped as one of them began clawing its way inside, half of its body already through the gap. She stabbed blindly with skewer in her hands, and she felt her gut twist at the resistance she felt as she ran it straight through, gray liquid spewing out.

Steve was facing the same problems on this side; as one of them made it fully through he swung his bat around, whacking it in the side before smashing it into the floor for good measure. Another managed to slip through at the same time, headed straight for Eddie.

Eddie's eyes widened as he ducked, covering the wonky note with a quick bend as Steve grabbed the demobat by the tail, swinging it in a wide arc and smashing it into the flaming fence.

Steve and Robin continued to fend off the stragglers that made their way past the wall, but as the fire began to die down the bats grew bolder, shaking the fence on its hinges in the ground and threatening to take it down altogether, and more and more demobats began to find a way past it.

At one point three of them managed to get through all at once. The first headed for the wires on the floor, and Eddie quickly stomped on it, kicking it into the side of his amp. Another flew straight at Robin, and she grunted as it dug its claws into her shoulder, knocking her back into the trailer as a second followed. Robin rolled to the side, smashing the first demobat into the corner of the kitchen counter. As she turned her attention to the second, she saw it had disappeared, or that's what she thought until she saw a flash of gray fly up towards the ceiling and through the portal to the real world.

“Shit!” Robin panted, “it just went through the gate.”

“What?!” Steve turned around, knocking another demobat off the fence with the handle of his bat.

“You stay here,” Robin said, “If that thing leaves the trailer in the real world it'll be loose on Hawkins.”

She didn't leave either of the boys any time to argue with her, throwing her weapon through the portal before grabbing onto the rope and climbing back up.

“Wait!” Steve called after her, but to no avail. “Damn it,” he cursed, hitting another one of the bats out of the sky. Five more came through, the fence weakening and the gap between the awning growing by the minute. Steve cried out as one of them clawed into his shoulder, and he forcibly backed up into the wall of the trailer, crushing it between the metal plating and his body.

The second one latched itself onto Eddie's arm, biting through the leather.  He grit his teeth, tearing it off and ignoring the pain as he jammed it into the floor with the headstock of his guitar.

While they were fending them off, the other three demobats whizzed past them, and they caught sight of them heading up through the gate where Robin was alone.

Eddie swallowed hard, sparing a glance back at the rattling fence, the bats even more ravenous now that the fire was dying down.

“Harrington, get up there,” Eddie said.

“What?” Steve turned to him incredulously. “Buckley's outnumbered by herself. If you don't help her right now, she'll die.”

“If I leave you here alone then you will,” Steve argued.

The knowing look that Eddie leveled him with made Steve's stomach drop.

“No,” Steve said, “Absolutely not.”

But Eddie had already made up his mind.

“Let me do this, man,” he said, “Every year I tell myself it's the year I'm finally gonna do something great, but it never actually happens. Now it's my year. If this is the one meaningful thing I do— saving (Y/n)'s life. . . I'm okay with that.”

Steve stared at him wildly, his mind scrambling to find another way, but the more time he spent thinking about it, the longer Robin was in danger.

“Damn it, Eddie. Damn it!” Steve cursed, ending his battle with himself and turning towards the gate. Just before he reached the rope, Eddie called out over his shoulder.

“Steve?”

He turned to look at Eddie, taken aback at the first time he'd ever called him by his first name.

“. . . Take her to see Labyrinth for me.”

The words struck Steve hard in the chest; his jaw clenching as he shook his head.

“Take her yourself when you make it out of this alive,” he said, his voice rising over the sound of the bats, “Forget dying for her, Eddie. (Y/n) wouldn't want that. Fucking live for her, you maniac!”

Eddie stared back at him and managed a tight grin, nodding; even as they were both painfully aware of the probability of that happening.

Suddenly a scream tore through the air from above: Robin.

Eddie quickly jerked his head towards the gate at Steve.

“Go!”

Eddie watched Steve frantically climb up the rope and disappear through the gate. He took a deep breath, pausing his playing only to slam the door of his trailer shut, turning back to the wall of bats in front of him. The fence was creaking, turning in on itself, the last flames from the fire slowly flickering out.

He was scared. God, he was fucking terrified. He always said there was no shame in running, but if running now meant that you would die, there wasn't a bone in his body that would let him do that. He stared down the hoard of bats, hearing the groan of creaking metal as they began to pry the fence from the ground. Eddie's eyes never left them as he shifted his hands up the neck of the guitar, coming up on Billy's solo.

'(Y/n). . . this is for you.'

He closed his eyes as he strummed down at full force, a screeching high note singing out into the Upside Down as the fence came toppling over.

Chapter 6 coming soon! 

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List is always open !

[jedifarmerr]

Wasteland Series (Fallout AU)

Post-Apocalyptic Frankie x F! Reader

Word Count: 3.4K

Rating: R/E (18+)

Warnings: Language, nightmares, guns, mutant animals & bugs, food/eating, little bit of angst, post-nuclear war.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 4: Creatures Of The Land.

They stopped for the night at the first place they could find with an intact roof and four sturdy walls. 

The Red Rocket Truck Stop. 

It was around two klicks from where they fought the ghouls, and she didn’t say a word the entire time. But neither did they. 

They cleared out a windowless storage closet that smelled like dust and dry rot mops and she didn’t even remark. Instead, she remained silent as the grave. She shut the door without looking at them. 

Afterwards, Benny and Santi double-checked every corner of the interior while Frankie and Will silently searched the perimeter. Nothing other than a few rad-ants that met the end of a bullet. 

By the time Frankie plopped down on a squeaky, metal chair, the moonlight was spilling through the windows onto the black and white store tile. 

There was tension in the air. It was thick and surging up and down the aisles cluttered with molded snack packs, expired chip bags, and souvenir magnets. 

They had been caught off-guard. And nobody liked being caught off-guard. Encountering ghouls wasn’t exactly uncommon, but they’d spent the last few days exploring and clearing the area. He thought they could at least go a few miles without being attacked by an angry mob of undead. 

Santi was the first to break the silence. He hoisted himself onto the checkout counter and said, “Well that didn’t go well.” 

“It could’ve gone worse.” Will slumped down in the rusty diner chair beside Frankie, then unlaced his boots. “She’s alive. Besides, I don’t know what else we could’ve done.” 

“Are you serious? We should’ve warned her, man.” Benny stared out at the gas pumps strangled by vines. “I knew we should’ve warned her.” 

Frankie immediately heard Will’s jaw click. Uh-oh. 

“Yeah? So, why didn’t you?” Will nudged his little brother. Abruptly, Benny turned to him with a spiky jaw. 

“What’d you say?”

“Look, in her room, you could’ve told her,” Will said. “But instead, you were in there talking about ice cream and Italy-”

“I was trying to make her feel comfortable.” 

“Comfortable? Oh! That’s great.” Will slapped his hands against his thighs. “Let’s make sure the Vault-Tec girl feels right at home.” 

“Fuck you, she didn’t ask for this.” 

“Yeah, and how do you know that?” Will didn’t give Benny time to answer before saying, “You need to watch yourself with her.”

“All of us do.” Santi stood up. His tone was much softer than Will’s. It appeared he was trying to de-escalate the situation before shit hit the fan. “I feel bad for her too, believe me. But we still gotta be careful with this.”

Benny glanced over at Frankie. He looked almost apologetic. He bowed his head – a subtle nod of agreement. 

“We’re taking tomorrow off,” Santi said, and everyone agreed it would be best to give her some time to process. Give them time to clear their heads. 

Then, they could get back on the road. 

———-

One day had somehow become nine, and counting. 

For the first three days, she barely left her room. They only really saw her when she needed to use the bathroom. She’d snatched the food outside her door like a stray cat when no one was looking. For the most part, it went untouched aside from the dried fruit. 

Finally, she came out on the fourth day. During a rowdy card game, she’d slowly made her way out of the storage closet and joined them. After that, she’d emerged more and more – bit by bit. 

Most of the time, she hung around Benny. Not surprising. In the past, stragglers had always latched onto Benny. Good ole Benjamin with his school boy charm, easy smiles and goofy-ass laugh. He was convinced of her innocence, even without any concrete proof. 

I just know. I got a gut feeling about it. 

Benny’s intuition appeared to be enough to start swaying Pope. Will still seemed hesitant, though. And of course, Frankie was stationary. He was like a boulder or a bull. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Benny’s judgment, usually he did without question. But he wondered how clear Benny’s head was in this situation. 

Unlike other stragglers, she was…attractive. At times, she could be funny. Even so, she still annoyed the piss out of him. She was always picking fights over stupid shit like what beans were better or how to correctly pronounce Bugles – a snack he’d never had and never would. She poked and poked and poked at him until he’d snap, then she’d smile and laugh and flutter her long lashes. All innocent, but unlike Benny, he didn’t buy it. 

This entire thing felt like a ticking time bomb. He was just waiting for it to blow up in his face. He didn’t know when or how or why. 

He just knew it was inevitable. 

—-

It’d been eleven days since they found her. Eleven days at the damn Red Rocket Truck Stop. 

With every day that passed, Frankie felt more and more like a sitting duck. He was just waiting for something or someone to attack. He was on edge and bored out of his mind. In fact, he’d taken to memorizing the prices of snacks and soda and even gas pump dials – twelve bucks for premium unleaded and fifteen for diesel. At least, it gave his mind something to do. 

Currently, Santi and him were lounging outside in a set of gingham lawn chairs they’d stumbled upon while searching a nearby shed for supplies. The sun was warm against his skin, his face. It was peaceful. Until she came barreling out of the storefront like a bat out of hell. 

“I need to use the bathroom.” 

“Not it,” Santi said before he could – asshole. 

“Where’s Benny? Or Will?” Frankie didn’t open his eyes, his face still tipped towards the sun. 

“Napping. Now come on.” 

When he didn’t immediately jump up, she started to throw a tantrum, “Frankie,” she whined, fussing and stomping her foot on the asphalt. She was giving him a headache. 

Frankie snatched his gun from the makeshift side table – an empty barrel – and shoved another gun into the back of his waistband before escorting her bratty ass to the bathroom. It was a quarter mile south, a pit latrine because she couldn’t just be easy and find a spot behind a tree. He supposed a hole in the ground beat cleaning out a bucket. 

“Don’t take long,” he grunted before she slammed the door. 

Like always, Frankie remained on-watch. Directly behind the single-stall bathroom was the mouth of what used to be a hiking trail. There were too many trees for his liking. Too many hiding spots. When his eyes flickered to the overgrown brush, there was a flash of something dark in the weeds. It was gone in a blink. 

With his safety off, he cautiously inched across the cracked sidewalk. He didn’t hear anything, so he hoped it was just a floater from staring into the sun too long. 

Boom. 

Startled, Frankie spun around as she burst through the door. The metal slammed against the shabby brick wall and it was just fucking her. 

She must’ve realized she scared him because she smirked. “Everything alright, Frankie?” 

He grunted in response. He was about to lecture her on making too much noise until a faint buzz came from behind him. He knew it wasn’t just his tinnitus flaring up when her brows furrowed. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a black mass. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. He rushed towards her as the noise grew louder. “Stay behind me,” he ordered before lightly shoving her into the metal door. She didn’t yell or curse or complain. She actually listened. It seemed like the only time she listened was when they were in danger. 

A pack of angry bloatflies surfaced from the field. 

“Holy shit - are those flies?” she asked as the bugs flew towards them. The fuckers were fast and never traveled in group of less than five or six. Bloatflies weren’t his least favorite creature, but they were definitely a bigger nuisance than their microscopic counterparts. 

He took out the leader – the one in front. A single bullet through its netted-eyes and the horse fly broke apart like a popped bubble. Five left. 

He went to aim at the next largest one when it fired its own projectile from its stinger. The translucent glob throttled through the air. 

“Duck!” he commanded and luckily, she obeyed. The toxin hit the metal door with a steaming hiss. 

After that, she seemed completely content in his shadow as he whittled down the pack until there was only one left. He pulled the trigger, but it clicked – empty. 

Before he could wrestle out the gun in his waistband, two bullets whizzed past his ear. One right after the other. The first one missed, but the second one nailed the bug right in its lumpy neck with a splat. 

Frankie cupped his ringing ear and abruptly turned around. 

She waved the gun in his face with a self-satisfied grin. “You’re welcome,” she said as if she’d beat him. 

“You could’ve killed me.” He snatched the gun from her hands and shoved it back into his waistband. 

She rolled her eyes, then shouldered past him. “I know what I’m doing.” 

Clearly. She wasn’t too bad, either, but he was not about to admit that. Instead he said, “That’s why it took two shots.” 

“That was my first time shooting a living thing, so I’d call that a success.” 

“Whatever you wanna tell yourself.” He wouldn’t feed her ego, no matter how impressed he was. 

“Well, now that you know I can shoot, can I get my gun back?” 

Over his dead body. “What do you think?” 

Just then, Santi showed up at the top of the hill. “What’s going on? Are you two alright?” 

“Yep! Thanks to me. I just saved Frankie’s life.” She tauntingly nudged Frankie in the shoulder before running ahead to tell Santi the story. 

Frankie felt his temples starting to throb. He already knew she would never let him forget the time she rescued him. 

—

After two weeks at the Red Rocket, they were finally back on the road. 

She had claimed his spot, next to Benny. And the two of them hadn’t shut up since reaching Concord. Benny had practically forced into a tour of the town with his insistent, “What was that? What used to be there?” 

A bank. A museum about the Revolutionary War. Pinelli’s Bakery – best chocolate croissant you’ll ever taste. 

Despite himself, Frankie caught his gaze following along with her finger, flipping between buildings deteriorated with weather and war and neglect. It’d taken them nearly a week to clear this place of ghouls. He wondered how many of them attended the Fourth of July parade that she was talking about. 

On the way up a hill, Frankie found himself perfectly eye-level with her ass. For a second, he watched her hips sway with every step before looking away. He cursed the heat and this hill and her stupidly, sinfully tight vault suit. 

They stopped for a late lunch on the outskirts of Concord, near a mossy brook with two toppled over oak trees acting as benches. Will tossed everyone a can of beans from his pack. Frankie could tell by her grimace that she was tired of eating the same meal. 

“Something wrong?” Frankie challenged her and she squinted at him. She sternly shook her head before guzzling down a large helping. 

“Delicious.” She licked the brown juice from her lips. His eyes tracked the movement – his jaw clenched. 

“Oh shit, look.” Benny pointed downstream at where a two-headed deer was lapping up a drink. Its four antlers were submerged in green algae as fine as hair. 

“Pope, is that a radstag?” Yeah – she’d started calling him Pope. 

“Sure is.” Santi grinned. Once the radstag spotted the group, it immediately fled into the trees. It was a gentle, skittish giant. 250 pounds of harmless, patchy fur. 

“How about you tell me more about that family farm of yours?” She nudged Santi. 

Frankie tensed, the bark under his ass felt like spikes. He didn’t like talking about home with her. He didn’t like them talking about Sanctuary with her. 

Luckily, Santi didn’t offer too many details, mostly focusing on the two-headed cows and wingless, naked chickens. She was enjoying it so much that Benny decided to give her a biology lesson. 

“Will, tell her the cave story.” All it took was a little begging and three sets of puppy-dog eyes before Will folded and rolled up his sleeve to show her the jagged scar that ran from his forearm up to his bicep. A cricket bite. Frankie swallowed a laugh when he noticed the horror and disgust on her face after she learned crickets could grow to the same size as a small dog. 

It didn’t take long before Benny was eyeing Frankie. Tell her about the bear. The slow chant of his name quickly caught on and God – he hated this stupid story. 

Just like Will, he gave in. But he didn’t lift up his shirt to show her the gnarly scar on his back from the 800-pound black bear attack. 

It was from years ago – they’d found a bottle of three-century old apple whiskey and got wasted. He’d been an idiot. He hadn’t been thinking when he wandered off from base camp to take a piss. Late at night, he couldn’t see what was lurking in the bushes until it was almost too late. 

He would’ve been eaten alive, clean picked to the bone – if not for Tom, who showed up just in time to save him. 

—

Right after lunch, the group stumbled upon two separate packs of bloatflies. You watched the guys dispose of them easily. The bugs didn’t even get a shot off. 

You overheard Santi and Will worrying about ammo. Even though they had enough 10 MM and 7.62’s, they were down to a box of .45’s and a handful of shotgun shells. You decided to be nice and point them in the direction of a nearby gun shop. The building was slightly crooked, but the roof was intact. Hopefully some of the bullets could be salvaged despite being two centuries old. In an emergency, you supposed, a hang fire was better than nothing. 

Inside, you debated snatching a gun from the wall, just a small, lilac pocket pistol for protection, but Frankie never let you out of his sight. Sometimes, it seemed like he could read your mind. It was infuriating. 

You wondered if them viewing you as a threat was what kept them from giving you a gun. If so, that was kinda funny. No one in your entire life had ever viewed you as anything remotely close to a threat. The only other possible reason was you being their prisoner, though not even Frankie treated you as such. 

If you really were their captive, you doubted Frankie would allow you to poke and jab at him as much as you did. He probably would’ve put you in your place with a threat or his fist. You were still trying to figure out exactly what these guys thought of you. Perhaps, they were telling the truth. Perhaps, they were just trying to protect you. 

Rad-infected bugs had popped out from houses and shops you passed by; you didn’t have the right equipment to check the water for chemicals, let alone the one to cleanse it. At this point, making a run for it was out of the question. While you would never say it, Frankie had been right. You wouldn’t have survived out here on your own. 

Before the sky went periwinkle, you set up camp in a seafoam green cabin secreted between windy, lopsided trees. You imagined it would’ve been cute before the war, before the porch was weather-worn and sunken-in; when the pond was blue instead of bone-dry. You had no idea this place even existed back here. According to Benny, they’d found it on their journey towards Concord, and marked it on their map for their way back. The windows were still boarded up from a few weeks ago, the inside was clear of any ghouls or other wasteland creatures. 

The house was quaint and noisy, the wooden floorboards whined and complained even with soft steps. The raggedy furniture was covered with ancient dust, and the air stank of must and dry rot. A soft fiery glow from the wick-lanterns lit up the living room where three sleeping bags laid on the floor – the fourth, for you, was in the single bedroom. 

Benny had loaned you his for the time being, but he swore it was no big deal. One of them was always on watch, anyway. They slept in shifts, so they could share until you reached Diamond City. 

“They have showers there?” You asked, pleasantly surprised. 

Benny chuckled. “Out of everything in Diamond City, that’s what you’re most excited about?” 

“Easily.” Two weeks of filth clung to your skin. Maybe they were used to going this long without bathing, but not you. “If you haven’t noticed, this jumpsuit traps everything.” 

“Trust me, we’ve noticed.” Frankie teased with a smirk. You playfully swatted at the bill of his ball cap. 

“Not like we smell much better.” Will tossed you a deodorizer spray from his bag. It wouldn’t make you feel any cleaner, but at least, it helped mask the stench. Now, you smelled overwhelmingly of pine instead of BO and stale sweat. 

“We’ll get you some new clothes while we’re there.” Santi patted your shoulder, then slowly pulled back. He dramatically grimaced at his hand before wiping it on his pants. 

Asshole. You tossed a dried cranberry at Santi’s head, which somehow he caught in his mouth. Benny cheered and you rolled your eyes before saying, “You guys are the worst.” 

“Nah, you don’t mean that.” Benny bumped into your arm, and you didn’t deny it. 

—

Usually, Frankie hated his dreams. The memories. Or the ones where he was running through trees, a forest, from something or someone he couldn’t see. Sometimes, he was the one doing the chasing but he didn’t exactly know what he was running after. 

However tonight, he was laying down in morning-warm grass near a dock by a pond stocked with fish. He realized it was this cabin – fixed up with fresh paint and polished windows and new shingles on the roof. He could hear a dog barking in the distance. Beside him, there was something soft and warm and he could smell lavender soap. It was a woman. He grabbed her shoulder to turn her and reveal her face – 

But it all disappeared as Will shook him awake for his shift. Third shift – the worst shift in his opinion. He’d pulled the short end of the stick for this leg of the trip. 

Frankie rubbed at the knot in his shoulder. His back was sore and achy. He was getting too old to be sleeping on the hard ground. The soft wick of the lantern guided him outside her door. He slumped down onto the cold floor, shivering and missing the warmth of his sleeping bag that Will was definitely enjoying. 

He remembered his dream. As he looked around at the rickety house, the rotted out cabinets and moth-eaten curtains that reminded him of reality. Sometimes, he wondered if he made a mistake, if he would’ve been happier with a quiet existence in Sanctuary. A white picket fence – a warm bed – a family. 

He chalked up the doubts to his age. He’d never had these thoughts when he was younger: life on the road wasn’t as easy as it used to be in his 20’s. 

Frankie brought the lantern closer before carefully undressing the wound on his arm. The ghoul had gotten him good. Over the last two weeks, the angry red had faded into pale pink. Still, it would scar. Just another in the collection. 

He was unraveling some fresh gauze when he heard the crinkling of shell fabric. Small murmuring coming from the other side of the door. Another nightmare. She had one almost every night. 

Certain nights were worse than others, and tonight was brutal. Quickly, he wrapped his wound in gauze while she thrashed around. He hummed, just to drown out her voice. When it grew louder, he covered his ears. 

He knew about nightmares. He knew the terror of reliving your trauma. The fear that came with being back there, only to wake up completely alone.

“Please - please.” The sound of her whimpering clawed at his chest. It made his hands itch. “Please,” she called out again and he felt something inside him snap. 

He jumped to his feet and reached for the knob – 

“Nora!” 

His hand stilled and he pressed his ear against the door. She was awake – she was crying. The soft sob echoed in his ears and made his chest ache. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t rub out the knot. He listened until her breathing evened out. The sun was starting to rise when he finally relaxed. 

And then, he realized – he’d never woken up Benny for his shift.

taglist: @lowlights @peoniarose @littlemisspascal @seasonschange-butpeopledont @pascalisthepunkest @heythere-mel @mando-amando @justatiredpotato

[kunikiiida-kuuun]

In his own Little Ways (Kunikida x GN Reader)

Summary: You just know he loves you, in his own little ways.

Word Count: 1.2k

Genre: Pure Fluff.

Everything Kunikida Doppo says or does is meticulously planned. Whether it's solving the case of a missing salaryman or doing laundry, every step is well thought out and carefully executed. Such precision is followed in each and every aspect of his life, including the love department.

Dating Kunikida was nice, if not a unique experience altogether; a pre-planned and thoroughly discussed time, date and location along with a detailed map of the agenda of the day emailed to you on a week's notice. It almost felt like a case report or the minutes of a meeting on most occasions. But you were certainly able to accommodate his peculiar attention to detail after partners who were always arbitrarily thirty minutes late and didn't even bother to inform you when they had to cancel on you.

He's the perfect lover seen across every piece of fiction, a dreamy Shoujo manga lead on most occasions. Sure, he was a little rough around the edges, eccentric in his own ways, but the man definitely knew how to be a gentleman.

There he was at your doorstep, on the day of the date, in his perfectly ironed clothes, carefully picked out the night before (after taking into account the weather and temperature of the next day and advising you on the same), neither a second early nor late, holding freshly picked flowers for you. He opens doors, and pulls out chairs for you, makes sure to match your pace, an ever so chivalrous gentleman, no doubt an exclusive section in his Ideal.

But in moments other than your infrequent weekly dates (because of the man's diehard dedication to his work), it took you some effort to remember that he was in fact, your boyfriend.

Initially it was about your missed deadlines and reports full of errors at work, (seemingly) improper protocol while dealing with a client and how you were just garbage at filing. And once you moved in together (purely because it was smart choice in terms of financial savings, thank you very much.) he chewed your head off about your terrible sleeping habits, your low regard towards systematic arrangement of things, your debatable expenditures, how you mixed the whites and blacks and put his socks in the drier. And when he's nagging you about your eating habits the fifth time that day, it seems like he acts like more like your parent than your significant other.

It didn't help that he was verbally constipated, stoic and reserved, emotions always under control (except when it's dealing with a certain bandaged man, ranging from pure rage to utter disdain.) Everyone can't help but wonder if those are the only two emotions the blonde knows.

But you know otherwise; that he was so much more than what he let on. It took you a while to understand too, a little bit of dancing around to really see through his uptight demeanor and realize that he expressed himself in his actions rather than verbally; his affection, while certainly there, to be read between the lines.

Like when he had sat beside you, long after the closing hours, helping you complete your reports, after which he insisted to walk you to the station. (He missed a big discount sale on meat and eggs.) How the man didn't know how that had truly been the beginning of the inevitable blooming feelings you had towards him (and his towards you.)

You pretend to not notice the fond and soft look in his eyes when your brows are furrowed in concentration as you worked through your mistakes and redid the reports.

He knows your favorite food and choice of beverage, each detail committed to memory. While you are busy chattering to him about an adorable stray cat you saw on your way to work, your usual order is right in front of you, even though you don't recall placing an order or even mentioning it to him.

Although he's grumbling, he relents easily, when you drag him down to the local shrine's summer festival. He knows with a single glance at your face which plush toy catches your eye at the shooting game booth, and pretends that you're being silly when you cheer loudly for him, and flatter him over his oh so ordinary shooting skills, but when he's handing you the prize (the exact plushie you had wanted) and quickly turning away to the next booth, you catch the small smile on his face and redness of his ears.

Kunikida keeps things strictly professional at the agency, and you can feel him freeze up whenever you brush your hand against his, but over time you know he's warming up to you, leaning towards your touch, even going as far to take your hand in his and press a chaste kiss to your palm. (Until he’s inevitably caught by Dazai, leaving you both as a flustered mess.)

You know he's opening up to you when he actually sets his Ideal down, relying on something other than his handy notebook. He vents and talks to you about his concerns and thoughts, eager to hear a new perspective from you. And on particularly difficult days when the weight of his ideals bears down heavily over him, after a strenuous mission, he's finally lowering his walls, and letting you hold him. He's opening his heart to you slowly and steadily, and letting you in.

You can't help but smile when you see him take your advice; to stop whatever he was doing every few hours, to close his eyes and take a deep breathe, when work felt overwhelming.

He scolds you all the time for oversleeping, and even when he's standing beside the bed, announcing you to wake up in his usual stern tone, the undeterred sleepy smile you send his way, with a "Five more minutes" has him sighing in defeat as he tucks you in gently. (You could feel the ghost of a kiss on your forehead, but perhaps you're just imagining it).

When you're coughing too persistently at work that day, he wordlessly presents a steaming cup of ginger honey tea before you, along with a pack of yoghurt (a plain unsweetened one as well as a flavored, one that was your favorite, you noted.) and cough drops. He makes sure to sternly advice (borderline lecture) you to keep away from frozen foods, to not eat ice-cream all the time, to dress warmly and salt water gargle every night and you know he's just being his caring self at this point.

There's a mysterious parcel lying on your desk but just from the concise and stiff writing, you can tell it's from Kunikida. It's a cute little keychain of a cat mascot, a souvenir from his short trip outside Yokohama. "It reminded me of you." says the back of the little note. When you look up, he's watching you intently from his desk, and quickly swinging his chair away. Still glancing at you from the corner of his eye, you mouth thank you and you can see how his eyes light up even from the distance as he nods curtly, returning back to his work.

He does it time and again, seemingly effortlessly, setting aflight butterflies in your stomach and a warm feeling in your chest, in a way you've never experienced before. It's the way you reach out and he finds you mid-way, and in the constant trying that makes you more certain than ever.

It's when finally at the end of the day, he changes into his set of coordinated striped pajamas, lets his hair down, takes off his glasses and willingly surrenders into your arms. If you yourself aren't too sleepy, maybe, just maybe, you will hear a tiny whisper, muffled with the way his head is buried in your hair.

You just know he loves you, in his own little strange ways.

[secondhand-trash]

Decadence

A/N: I felt a sudden dash of inspiration at 2am and this is the result lmao

Descrption: Fushiguro Toji was like a cat, came and went as he pleased. It never really provided you with a reason to let him back in each time, yet it had become a habit of yours to leave a window for him in the times he was away. 

Pairing: Fushiguro Toji x reader

Warning: slightly suggestive, if you are reading a toji fic I’m just going to assume you have read the manga, smoking, mentions of drinking, not exactly a happy piece of writing 

Word count: 2620

Playlist:

Cigarettes//Russian Red

-

Sometimes you just laid there and stared at the ceiling after you woke up, the tender rhythm of your breathing echoing back to you through your eardrums reminding you that you were still alive no matter how much it didn’t felt that way.

They said there’s a weight to your soul, but right now you just felt nothing.

There was a special type of letting yourself go called waking up when the sun was shining bright outside, the blinding shine breaking through your cheap curtains. You had just woken up but you wanted to go back to sleep again, yet the heaviness in your head almost alluring to what having a fever felt like forced your eyes awake. 

You had no choice, or rather, no motivation to do anything but stay put right where you were, on the thin mattress that you took from the previous tenant who lived next door (”What?” you clicked your tongue at the above you man who paused as he slammed your back down on the bed, it was not comfortable and he most definitely felt that one spring stabbing at his knee, “it’s free.”). There was a stain at the corner of your tiny room, probably because the kitchen fan forcefully installed on the wall was not doing its job. The greasiness lingered in the air every time you tried to cook anything, making you sick in the stomach when you buried your face on your pillow that was just a few steps away from your stove. 

You gave up cooking soon entirely, it was not like there was anyone you could eat with anyways.

Fushiguro Toji came and went as he pleased, showing up at your door with a few cans of beer and a pack of cigarette whenever he was in the mood like he did not disappear without a word after the last time you saw him.

You didn’t ask where he had been or where was he before he was here at your place, you knew this was why he always came back to you. 

Just like how you never asked him, or yourself for that matter, whether any of this meant a thing.

“Don’t smoke here,” you said with your arms crossed in front of your chest, your back to the door as he tilted his frame to pass through your doorframe that seemed ridiculously small with him under it, “took me days to get rid of the smell last time.”

Sometimes he came every few days, mostly you would see him waiting under the lamp post at the corner of your block every other week. There was one time when you did not see him for a good few years. You were certain he had died, he had business enough people for it to not be a surprise to anyone. You could not say a word when you came back and saw him crouching in front of your door with an unlit cigarette between his teeth, toying the lighter in his palm. He was staring ahead but not focusing on anything, looking so out of place in the middle of the thin corridor of your apartment building.

It was also the one and only time you had felt the urge to ask him if he was okay, you refrained.

instead, you gave his frame a push with your heel. He did not budge, like you did nothing but gave him a tap on his shoulder and looked up. “You look like shit, Zenin.”

Where have you been? You swallowed the words that were so close to the tip of your tongue back down to your stomach together with the knot at the back of your throat.

He only shook his head as he stood up, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and took a breath that would have been a drag. “No,” you had no idea what had gotten into him, “Fushiguro.”

He did not sleep with you that night, but you did let him smoke in your tiny little flat.

To this day, you still had no idea what made him show up at your door again.

“Hm,” you were not sure if he was really answering you when he slummed down at the foot of your mattress. It was a talent how he acted like he had never left, like this was his spot as he leaned back with one palm holding him up and cracking a can of beer open with another. You always had a fascination with how easy he made it look, one crock of his index finger and you could hear the foam rushing out, “you want one?”

The smashed cans were still laying on the small table at the corner of your room. It was your dining table, writing desk and bedside table all at once, you hoped you did not spill anything on it last night. The half-gone pack of cigarettes was next to your bed, the joints sliding off of each other in the stack it was in. 

There was an ashtray next to it and it was really just a centerpiece when Toji was not here. You had refused to get one for the longest time, but gave in after you realised the only difference it would make was that the burnt out tobacco would be in your kitchen sink or somewhere it should be. The one he had lit up when he finally crawled off of your tired body begrudgingly was roughly put out on the glass, bent into half and somewhat intact.

Shamefully, you did not have nearly as much distaste for his addiction as much as you protested it. You could not deny that it was a picture when he leaned against the only window in your flat, his back to you in all his glory as the spark lit up and cast a warm glow to your ceiling. He sounded calm when he took the first drag, a soft hum following the inhale as white smoke blended into the dark of the Tokyo sky. It was never really quiet out there, and sometimes you would hear the cars running by the highway at a distance or the people with a home they refused to return to shouting down the streets. All with the swirls coming out of his lips, his shoulder easing down slowly with each puff.

Sometimes you wondered if you should be like the girls you saw in films, reaching out for the brooding man looking out their window and ask them to come back to bed sweetly. Perhaps you should act more lovable, like someone that would giggle into their lover’s chest when they did come back with a gruff.

The thought made your skin crawl, and you turned to your side until you could not see his frame before poking your tongue out in disgust.

That was not the way things worked with you two.

You had no idea what time it was but you guessed that it could not be early. The shadow that cut diagonally on the wall had already gotten defined, the sharp black border moving slowly across the oxidized wallpaper. Occasionally, in midst of the silence, you could it each time a train drove in and out of the station. The railway being near your apartment was the only thing good about it, but it also meant that each click on the tracks pounded into your ear like piles driving into your brain.

Tuk. Tuk. Tuk.

The room was starting to feel stuffy and hot, the body next to yours on your crowded mattress did not help at all. Toji usually left first thing in the morning, either that or he would not stay the night at all. You could not remember when was the last time you woke up next to him, but it was almost always followed by a long period of him being out of your sight. The thin blanket felt tiny trying to cover his large frame, the fabric pulled taut with you refusing to give up on it. It was your blanket on your bed in your house, who was he to hog it? 

You felt the temptation to reach out and trace the faded cut slashed down his lips with them parted just slightly, a rare serenity on his face. His lashes were long, that was another thing you had picked up on as you just watched. You could imagine him to be a beautiful man, before the scares and the scrawl and the smell of smoke lingering in his breath.

Fushiguro Toji was like a cat, came and went as he pleased. It never really provided you with a reason to let him back in each time, yet it had become a habit of yours to leave a window for him in the times he was away. Do not ask where he had been, the only thing you would get is your own reflection in his eyes. He was not your cat, never. You doubted that strays could truly adapt to domesticity.

Or rather, you never had the guts to see what would happen if you trap them down.

Instead, you watched, watched as the cat elegantly yawned and stretched its limbs out like the tyrant it was.

The blanket slid off his chest when he moved, showing you the many scars littering all over his skin. Scratches did nothing compared to all the other ones that darted over his frame like badges, you gave up trying to leave a trace anywhere on him a long time ago. One hook of your leg around his waist caught his attention and he yanked you by the arm to place you on his chest, not forgetting to slide his palm down your waist under he was cupping the swell of your hips.

‘Tsk’, you wanted to snicker, ‘skillful.’

“You wanna fuck again?” he quirked one eyebrow up, his tone sounding more like a question than an invite by any means.

“Huh...” the nasal in your voice was apparent as you laid your head on his firm muscles. 

And it was not like you had never wanted to make him stay past the few moments he was with you in the rare hours of daylight you spent together, you were just certain things would get messy whether he did as you asked or not.

Afternoons in bed were lazy, slow, sticky and hard to peel your hands away.

That just wasn’t what this was supposed to be.

“Don’t you have anywhere to be?” you asked, as always.

“I do, actually.” 

You lifted your head to look at him in, “But the horse races are not open today.”

He gave your ass a slap, and you gasped before trying to hit him back.

“Surprise, surprise, I’m working again,” the corner of his lips tugged up into a lazy smirk at your irritation, “someone contacted me, I’m going to see what they are offering today.”

You blinked.

“Are you taking it?” you asked, carefully.

He shrugged, before giving where he smacked down a condescending pat before sliding you off of him. 

“Who knows,” he rolled his arms back, the defined edges of his biceps flexing as he cracked his neck, “depends on how much they are paying me.”

So he would be gone for god knows how long again, lovely. You gave yourself a subtle nod of acknowledgement at how you saw this coming. 

He strode to the side to pick up his clothes that were littered across the floor, and your gaze followed him as he went to your table last.

If he was just a regular man you happened to bring home, you would roll your eyes at him for not at least shoving the beer cans into the trash as he took his shirt from the pile.

You tucked your arm under your pillow as you watched his fingers took one out of the box swiftly, feeling your body sink down the ill-quality mattress.

It was always at this point that the rush to ask him to stay would surface. But you would never try to do that, obviously.

‘When will I see you again?’ you were almost tempted to ask when he had one hand on the doorknob, but you weren’t sure if this was something he could give you an answer to.

So you said what you always say when he was about to disappear from your life again, with a smile as you bury your face deeper into your pillow.

“Try not to die.”

-

There was a daunting feeling that this was it. 

But again, the thought always plagued you during these blank periods.

Something at the back of your head told you that something went wrong. Maybe he died, you savoured the taste of these words on your tongue as you laid flat on your bed. After all, no one could say it was a surprise if he truly got killed on the job out there. He never really told you too much about what he did for a living. You figured out the gambling part on your own, and the scars on his skin warned you against asking further. 

Your relationship, if there ever was one, relied heavily on neither of you caring about each other enough to want to know more than the way he liked you to take his shirt off for him and the spot behind your ear was sensitive. There was a moment when you wondered if you had, or ever was in love with Fushiguro Toji. Back when he was still Zenin Toji, or when you felt the drop of your heart as he casually told you the change in his family name. 

It would be a travesty if you did.

The pack of cigarettes he forgot to take with him was still laying exactly where he left it, together with the lighter that was tugged into the cap. You had never smoked, one thing that he always made fun of you for. You did not like the smell and could barely imagine what it tasted like. 

You only liked it when you were the one watching him do it.

The tiny stick felt strange on between the pads of your finger, and you awkwardly mimicked the way you had seen him do it all these times. A forceful shove of the window sent a current of wind into your flat, the breeze tickling your cheek as you let your head fell back and took a deep breath.

Like someone waiting for their cat to come home.

Your body hung out of the window with one arm on the frame. The lighter did not work until the third click, and you stared as the end of the cigarette slowly started to glow under the flame.

The pungent smell made you furrow your eyebrows together and you clicked your tongue. The sun was starting to sink in a distance and the white smoke was all the more visible under the bright orange sun. You lifted your hand up to the sun, and tipped it like you would at a toast.

This was for you.

One inhale sent you coughing, and your eyes teared up at the unfamiliar sting at the back of your throat.

“Fucking hell,” you hissed, slamming down on the window frame as you sucked in a deep breath to wash the feeling away.

If he ever showed up again, you thought to yourself as you violently put off the cigarette on the ashtray, you were definitely questioning him what was so good about this.

-

You did not see him for a long, long time after that.

[bookofmirth]

“Do you dare me?” + elucien👻

Thank you! This was fun :D

The whole collection on AO3, of which this prompt is the ninth chapter. I don't tag people anymore since I write fanfic so infrequently, so apologies to anyone who still expected to be tagged 🥰

***

There was a quality of the light at dusk that caused Elain to stop and watch the moments go by, despite whatever else was happening around her. Every moment was fleeting, and she normally savored the sun’s last rays with the greed of the starving child she had once been, so that when the cold emptiness of night approached, she would have that spark of warmth left in her memory.

But where on a normal night she would wait until the last possible moment before going inside to sit by a warm fire with her mate, Elain had no hopes of returning indoors any time soon.

“I think it’s over here,” Lucien called over his shoulder. He walked a few paces ahead of her through the long grass, his hands pushing aside the golden stalks as he watched the ground.

“We can’t possibly find the poor thing at night, we have to search more quickly.” Elain shivered and rubbed her arms, trying to encourage warmth in them before the darkness had stolen the last moments of day.

Elain and Lucien had been drinking an aperitif on the porch just outside their sprawling family room when the kitten had darted across the lawn, a blur of black and white that Elain might have missed if she had glanced down at her glass a moment sooner or later. Lucien and Elain collected stray pets without trying, given how much time they spent outdoors. Lucien had his thoroughbred hounds he used to hunt, even though he always let his prey go at Elain’s request. Elain made friends with the foxes and the rabbits, knowing that they surely couldn’t be friends with one another and pointedly ignoring the fact that they were prey and predator.

But the cats were her favorite, with their quiet observation and pragmatic ruthlessness. They helped her eliminate pests where they weren’t wanted and gave her a companion to chat with as she dug in the earth each day. Most of them lived outside, though they were free to roam the manor. Her favorite, the one that followed her from room to room and slept at her feet, had become pregnant and hadn’t been seen in a week. So when Elain saw a tiny version of her Begonia running across the lawn before her, she knew that her friend had a new family.

“Lucien, do you think Begonia will come back soon?” They had been following the sparse clues the tiny beast left behind, making their path based on a flash of black and white, the occasional sound of a meow finding its tenor.

“Of course. Maybe the little one will even show us where she’s gone off to. That is, if we can catch the little bastard.”

Elain frowned behind his back.

“Well Begonia isn’t married, is she?”

Elain rolled her eyes, knowing that he was poking fun at her in an attempt to bring levity to their search. “You are always quite droll in the face of a challenge, dearest.”

Lucien turned and grasped her hand. “We’ll find him, don’t worry. We’ll find both of them. Let’s go this way.”

Their search took them farther from the manor, into the untamed woods at the edge of the property. An occasional flash of kitten reassured them that they were on the right track, though she wished she could just ask the tiny ball of rage and claws to slow down. Begonia had certainly learned the word “tuna”, but Elain doubted that running around the manor screaming tuna at the top of her lungs would be very effective. The trees slowly closed in around the pair, blotting out the remaining light that Elain would have been able to savor, had their evening not been interrupted.

She wasn’t as familiar with the creatures and plants of these woods, and Elain had the distinct impression that they were being swallowed by something great and unknowable, to be slowly digested by the secret beasts of Prythian. She clutched Lucien’s hand tighter and continued to let him walk a step ahead of her.

An owl hooted, breaking the silence, and Elain jumped and clamped her free hand over her mouth.

“Just an owl, Elain,” Lucien said. He drew her up to his side, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“I hate the dark.”

Lucien merely pressed a kiss onto the top of her head in response.

Despite her extraordinary senses, Elain strained to make out details ahead of her. The trees were columns of rough bark, their branches and leaves blocking the night sky, while beneath her feet Elain could only assume she tread on twigs and dried debris and refused to imagine anything else when she felt objects cracking beneath her feet.

Elain had her speech prepared about why they should go back and look for the kitten the next morning when she made out a large, dark mass in their path.

“Lucien, did you know there was a building out here?” Elain whispered, which seemed to be the only thing to do in woods that had swallowed them whole.

“No, I didn’t. Helion never said anything about it.”

A small log cabin stood before them, small enough that it likely contained only one room. Its pitched roof looked to be made of thatches and the door was wide open, inviting. Beyond the door, Elain couldn’t make out anything other than darkness. There may have been a witch, or a Bogge, or a wendigo for all she knew, watching her from the dark, smirking, thinking how best to pull the flesh from her bones. Whatever lived there would enjoy her suffering, she was sure.

And then there he was, Begonia’s kitten, no longer running from them, but rubbing against the cabin as if he had been waiting all that time for them to show up. His small back arched in pleasure and his tiny feet walked across the forest floor without a sound. It was a miracle they had found him at all.

Before Elain could take another step, the kitten sauntered into the dark entrance of the cabin. “No!” Elain hissed. “What will we do?” She strained her hearing, putting all of her effort into listening for the kitten as her vision was nearly useless in such pitch black.

“I’ll go in and get him. Don’t worry.”

“You will not!”

One of Lucien’s eyebrows quirked up. “Why not?”

“Feyre told me about the Weaver, what happened to her there.” Elain shuddered to remember the tale that she didn’t doubt for a second. “We don’t know what’s in there.”

“What would Begonia say to you, leaving her progeny alone in the woods like this?”

Elain lightly slapped his arm. “It’s not funny! I’m not going in there. And you’d better not either. He’ll be fine. Cats are survivors, we know that. Let’s go back home. He shouldn’t have dared go in there.”

“Do you dare me?” Lucien asked, smirking.

Elain gripped his bicep tighter. “I absolutely do not!”

He moved away from her, making towards the entrance of the rickety cabin. Elain tried to plant her feet into the ground and hoped that, combined with the death grip she had on his arm and sheer will, she would be able to stop his progress. Instead, her feet slid across the dirt and forest detritus as he pulled her along.

“Lucien Vanserra-Archeron, I swear that if you go into that cabin I will never forgive you! I will never make your favorite macarons again, I will never kiss you again, I-“

She was cut off when Lucien spun around and she was forced against his chest with the sudden change in direction. He pressed his mouth to hers, swallowing the remains of her protest.

“I’ll just be a moment.”

And then the darkness of the cabin entrance swallowed her mate.

Elain approached as closely as she dared, standing at what she hoped was outside arm’s length of whatever was in that cabin. She counted each thudding footstep of Lucien’s boots on the floor, heard him whispering softly to the kitten, coaxing it towards him.

A moment later, the footfalls and the crooning stopped. All became quiet.

“Lucien?” Elain said in a strangled whisper. The woods and the cabin were silent enough so that she could hear the rush of blood through her body, threatening to throw her into a panic as her heart beat faster and faster.

A cry came from the cabin, one that Elain knew too well. Her mate was in battle. She shrieked his name and stepped forward, bracing herself with both hands on the doorway.

“Lucien!”

A thump. A body falling. And then Elain sighed in relief when she heard Lucien groan. A groan might have meant injury and pain, but it also meant that he was alive. Steeling herself, Elain gathered up the last shred of bravery that she had. She stepped inside the threshold, only to be stopped in her tracks as she thumped face-first into Lucien’s chest. Lucien’s chest, and his hands clamped around something decidedly furry.

Elain’s hands traveled up and down his torso, searching by touch for injuries her eyes couldn’t see in the dark of the cabin. “Are you okay?”

Lucien grunted in answer and led her outside. The dark of the woods seemed like a sudden wash of light compared to the empty dwelling, and Elain took in a deep breath.

“I’ve got the kitten,” Lucien said through his teeth. The kitten was cuddled against his chest, seeming to settle in for the walk across their property, quite satisfied with himself. “He’s a wily little asshole, so I think I’ll call him Jurian.”

“Are you sure he’d take that well?”

“He’ll think it’s a compliment,” Lucien answered.

Elain nodded, refusing to let go of his arm. She relished the solidness and warmth of him. “Can we go home now?”

[butwhyduh]

Sickening

You looked at the blood in your sink. It was becoming sticky and rust colored at the edge. It probably wasn’t a lot but it certainly looked like it. The fact that you weren’t exactly sure who’s it was made you feel sick. You closed your eyes and grabbed some towels to clean it.

After spraying your sink heavily with antiseptic, you scrubbed your hands clean and left the room. Your boyfriend laid out on the couch. Normally you found it a little funny the way his long body would hang over the arm. Now you were worried.

“Jason,” you asked. What is going on? He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“I got in a fight. It’s no big deal. You know how assholes in Gotham are,” he said. As if to emphasize his point, the sound of police sirens sounded close by. Yeah, this place was rough.

And Jason certainly looked like he had recently been in a fight. His knuckles were red and raw. He had a bruise blooming on his forearm. And his grey shirt had little specks of black that you couldn’t help but wonder was blood.

“Why are you always covered in bruises? Is that the assholes in Gotham?” You asked, sitting on the coffee table.

“You could say that,” he muttered under his breath. “I guess people just want to punch me. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“You need a bath,” you said. “I’ll throw your clothing in the wash.”

“I’m fine-“

“You’re covered in blood and I’m not sure it’s yours,” you said. Jason slowly rose from the couch and you see that he favored one shoulder over the other one when pushing up. Probably also bruised. Or worse.

He all but stumbled into the bathroom. You started a hot bath. Your small apartment didn’t have a shower attachment. Jason roughly pushed off his boots before grimacing as he pulled off his shirt and threw it in your tiny washing machine. That one was a gift from him that somehow your landlord was totally cool with despite being a complete ass.

His shoulder had nasty red and purple splotches of bruises and there was a small bloody area. He shoved his belt open and pushed off his pants and socks. Jason slid into the tub. He groaned. His long leg had his knees sticking out of the water almost comically.

You bent down and sat on the old tile floor. Someone, probably in the 1920s or something, had out tiny little white hexagon tiles all over the floor next to the claw foot tub. You grabbed a cup and started pouring water on Jason’s chest. He hissed before relaxing. Steam from the tub rose in the cold room.

“I worry about you. Worry what you’re doing. Why you won’t tell me what you’re doing. That you’re in trouble or something. Do you owe a gang money or something? Who hit you?” You asked softly. Deathstroke, Jason thought but he certainly couldn’t tell you that. His hard look soften a little.

“I don’t owe a gang money. Nothin like that,” he said. He couldn’t help but look at your face. You were too pretty, too innocent, too good for his world. He didn’t want you in this. Hell, he shouldn’t have talked to you in the first place because no one lasted long in his life. Jason knew that taking you on a date had been selfish. And everything after that was him being too weak to do the right damn thing.

You took the cup and poured water over his hair. The slight pink color had you grimacing. You didn’t push your questions. It was something Jason loved about you. He was a hard nut to crack and usually what worked best was time and space.

You grabbed your shampoo rather than Jason’s to wash his hair. There was no way that you were going to use his ‘mountain bear scented 4 in one shampoo, conditioner, body wash, motor oil’ when trying to pamper him.

You’d never washed his hair before. He’d definitely never let anyone close to washing him. Shower sex, great. But never something non-sexual and intimate as just being bathed. You ran your fingers through his hair letting the soap rub in. Jason literally felt goosebumps on his skin and he closed his eyes and leaned into your hand. You were the only person that he let touch him and high key, this was the best relaxation he’s ever remembered feeling. You ran your hands through his hair longer that necessary but you could tell that he wasn’t complaining. He groaned a little.

You poured the water over his head and was pleasantly surprised that the water was soapy but clear. At least there wasn’t a lot of blood in his hair. Jason bent and washed his face in the water. He had more stubble growing than he usually did.

“Do you wanna shave your face? I can do it,” you offered. For a fraction of a second his brow creased before he gave you a half smile.

“Not today. I’m good. Thank you,” Jason said holding your hand. He couldn’t exactly say that he didn’t trust anyone with any kind of blade near his face.

“Are you okay? Tell me what’s going on,” You said reaching a hand to his other cheek. His jaw clenched a little and his eyes almost looked hurt. He was thinking of all the people who had died because they knew a secret. Other vigilantes who’d lost their entire families for knowing their secret identity. But at the same time, Jason knew that you wouldn’t stay around forever and the lies were growing. He was going to do one more little selfish thing. He sighed deeply.

“I’ve gotta tell you something but I don’t want to scare you,” he said and his eyes showed so much worry and fear. He genuinely thought he might lose you over this.

“Scare me? Jay, what are you talking about?” You said confused. He inhaled nervously.

“I- I’m Red Hood! Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to say it so loud,” he said. Jason’s eyes searched your face. Your eyes were wide and you were frozen. His breath was all over the place in absolute fear. It was only a few seconds but he prayed for you to speak.

“Did you just say that you’re Red Hood?” You said faintly. Red Hood was infamous. Brutally murdered gang members, rapists, and traffickers. Even once famously fought the dark knight himself. The one continued theme of everything you heard: cold, cruel, and highly deadly. If you saw Red Hood, it was probably the worst day of your life, if not your last.

“Uh... yeah? Yes.” He gulped and watched you. His blue eyes were so round and worried.

“No. I can’t believe that,” you said. Jason, who would read Jane Eyr to you, that fed stray cats outside of the apartment, and was literally the sweetest boyfriend couldn’t be this killer. He looked down with a sarcastic smile.

“I’m Red Hood. That’s me. If you don’t believe me, there is a Glock 26 Gen 4 strapped to my bedside table. There are a few more around,” he said motioning around the apartment.

“You keep stuff here?” You asked with a mad look. Your head was spinning.

“No. Just some protection. None of the Hood stuff is ever here. I don’t want anything that could be found in this apartment. All the stuff here is new and never fired besides a few practice rounds. I try to be as safe as possible so you are never in danger,” he emphasized. You both sat in silence for a few minutes. The only movement was Jason’s fingers running along your hand.

“Why? Why do you do it? Be the Red Hood?” You asked finally. He expected that question but not right away.

“I should probably tell you how it started,” Jason said and he didn’t hold back. He told you about his parents, attempting to steal the rims from the batmobile, becoming Bruce Wayne’s ward, becoming Robin, being killed by the Joker, the lazareth pit, and becoming the Red Hood. By the time he was done, the water was cold and your legs were numb. “That’s why I have bruises and scars. Why I leave sometimes or miss dates.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. He gave you a look of confusion. What could you possibly be sorry for? “You shouldn’t have gone through that. You shouldn’t have needed to hide it from me. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t scare you? You don’t want to run from a murderer?” Jason asked. His eyes searched yours for signs of fear or disgust.

“Is it really murder if they are evil? Or justice?” You said slowly and he winced at that word. Bruce certainly wouldn’t agree. “Every time I hear the question ‘would you kill baby Hitler’ I would. Without question. I would shoot a baby because I would be thinking about 6 million Jews and unknown others that died because of him. The bad guys always get out and make things so much worse.

“You’re going to have to tell me where all the weapons are here. I’m paranoid that I’m going to reach in the couch and grab a sword,” you said with a laugh, standing up. Sure, you were shocked. But that wasn’t going to make you run screaming into the night. Or maybe you were in shock? You’d find out in the morning.

“Swords are more my brother’s thing,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll show you. I’ve been wanting to teach you some self defense too.”

“We’ll get back to your brother being into swords later. But first, let’s get you out of that wet ass tub and into bed. Because I can’t process any more information tonight,” you said handing Jason a towel. He obviously favored his right shoulder when dressing in sweatpants before coming to the bed where he flopped down. The lights in the bathroom flickered and you rolled your eyes. That’s Gotham for you.

“I’ll fix that tomorrow,” Jason said quietly.

“Nevermind that. Do you want an ice pack?”

“No. I want you,” he said and you smiled a little before crawling in the bed. Jason moved around to lay with his head next to your chest snuggling close. It was almost comical the way the big man hugged you and laid in your arms. He needed to be close to you even though your arm on his waist made him clench in pain for a second before you moved to a better position.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said quietly. “You’re way too nice to me. Almost gullible. Like Baby, you live this way?” he said with a smile. His sarcastic defense was back up. You rolled your eyes.

“Maybe I’ve got a thing for the whole bad boy thing. Or that I know last week, you had cereal with water and honestly, that’s the ultimate weakness,” you said back and he gave you a rare grin.

“We were out of milk. Like what was I gonna do? Eat it dry? No.”

You kissed the corner of his mouth and he grimaced.

“Sorry. We should get some sleep. It’s super late,” you said.

“Yeah, sleep. Sounds great,” he said already drowsy. “I fucking love you,” he whispered before falling asleep.

[teeztheflag]

─────────────────────

S i e b e n  S i n n e (Seven Senses) III

⋆ pairing: catking!san x reader (x human!woo young)

⋆ genre: yandere au, fantasy au, suggestive

⋆ trigger warnings ⚠️ strong language, yanderish behaviour, possessiveness, violence

⋆ words: 3,500

a/n: last part of this journey, don’t forget San is more like a soft yandere... I know some of you won’t be happy with the ending but it was too much fun haha

part I  part II  part III

⋆ „But I won’t ever be able to turn into a human again.“ 

─────────────────────

You definitely felt more energy while being in the body of a real cat but also the castle seemed to be much more distant now. You didn’t even know how to turn back into the other form so you just ran until the walls came into your view that shielded the gardens of the castle from outside.

It was very easy to just jump up and use your claws to get steady on the surface. Being a cat was indeed fun but you wouldn’t want to get used to it.

Emerging the building you were confused on how to enter it because all the doors seemed to be locked. After a little while of not knowing what to do you decide to descend some balconies and stop in front of a large room where a big desk was set.

Was this San‘s workspace?

A meow escapes you without knowing when you see a chair turning and San looks outside only to see you leaning against one of the big windows with your paws.

He frowns and stands up to open the window to sniff the air. „(y/n)?“ You try to shy away from him but he’s quicker to take you into his arms and press you against his chest while closing the window again. He sits down on his chair and places you on his lap to look at you with heartily eyes.

„I should be angry that Hong Joong came back here without you but I see you seem to have a little problem there...“ You purr at the feeling of him caressing your (y/h/c) colored fur with pleasurable motions.

„You can still talk you know?“

You lick your paws out of instinct and shriek a little bit when you feel something itching in San‘s lap. Jumping on to his desk you sit down in front of him muttering. „It happened when I wanted to go into the shop and now... I don’t know how to turn back.“

This makes the cat king laugh out loud and he bops your little cat nose. „It’s ok. I was afraid something happened to you...“ His eyes are full with worry but it vanishes as quickly when he stands up to take you into his arms again. He kneels down and with a small push he rolls you over and you feel yourself changing back.

You lay on the ground your tail swinging quickly while you examine your body. „Oh, thanks!“ You smile at him and he hums at you.

„I hope you had a nice day anyway. After this the next time you get out of this castle I will be the one on your side.“ Worry takes over your features and you are afraid he would do something to Hong Joong for not being careful enough.

„Don’t worry. Hong Joong is one of my dearest friends. If something happened however...“

There was nothing you could do now then wait. And you did until the day you woke up and knew soon you would be free again. Hopefully everything would go smoothly today.

Woo Young didn’t know how long he layed in the grass of the wide meadow he woke up but he was sure there wasn’t much time left when he saw the hectic pace of the towns people and the carriages that passed him.

Disoriented he literally lived the past days like a stray tomcat looking for you in all places. It was only when he emerged an older woman with gray cat ears that he decided to ask what the ruckus was about.

„Oh boy where do you even live? Today’s the wedding of our king choi and his beloved (y/n)!“ She smiles and gives him a flower after leaving the boy standing there dumbfounded.

„Oh my god...“ You were in the palace.

He demonized the mask seller for not telling him this important information and started to follow the way of the carriages like a maniac.

Standing in front of the big gate guards were quick to push him back when he tried to casually walk inside the royal grounds.

„No trespassing for uninvited!“

He waited a second after another cat bowed down in front of the guards to tell them he was late for the kitchen help. It was pretty obvious when he imitated this action to them earning him a questioning look by the guard.

„I am here for the kitchen help!“

„Sir Min Gi! The chef is asking where all the servants are!“ Min Gi debates with himself for a second when he utters something and points for Woo Young to enter.

„Today everything has to be perfect. Men, get back to work and you, tell the chef there’s help coming.“

Everywhere he can hear cheering and laughter while the castle is in full festival mood. He wanders around trying to find a tip for your location and comes to a halt when two equally rich clothed people pass him in a hallway. He quickly looks to the ground bowing but not misses the gaze of the man with the black ears and tail.

Woo Young mirrors the glare with a bad feeling not knowing who this person was or why he could swear he smirked after he saw the boy.

He continues his way through the corridors and just when he swears he saw a white fabric a servant stops him. „You! We have to get ready and why do still not wear your clothes?“

„I ehm ...“ He stutters and the man rolls with his eyes annoyed. He turns Woo Young around and pushes him into another direction ranting about how everything is messed up now and that they should better hurry up.

With all the guards and servants around having an eye on everything he gives up to look for you. He has to get you when the ceremony starts.

You find yourself in front of a mirror all dolled up the necklace on your neck feeling like it’s suffocating you. A sigh escapes your shaking lips when Ye Ri comes in to announce that it’s time for you. Joy is busy picking on your gown and hair to make sure everything looks perfect while you are praying every second your plan works.

Soon you would be back to your own world. Living with your mom and going back to school. Seeing Jang Mi ranting about you and having Woo Young to annoy you every chance he gets. You stick to the memories like they could vanish out of your head any moment.

And then the door opens and you’re getting outside into the big gardens where the ceremony is being held. Music starts to play and you can see all the guests turning their heads to your direction where you try to not faint.

Everything is decorated like you would want it to at your imagination of a perfect wedding. The guests look mostly rich and their ears twitch in excitement at the arrival of the bride. Turning your attention back to the end of the path where he is standing.

San looks devilishly handsome. He gasps when he sees you and you also forget to move for a moment. So much beauty wasted on a man like him.

Cat. He’s a cat. Don’t forget that.

Making your way to the podest where he’s standing you hear the little remarks some of the guest make and start to feel insecure.

„She’s so beautiful! Look at her ears and tail I bet she has the prettiest fur...“

„And to be this lucky! King Choi looks breathtaking like always!“

San takes your hand in his when you shyly look up to him. His tail is swinging agitated from side to side tingling with yours occasionally.

From the outside you two probably had to look like the perfect match but you knew how cruel the king could be. The pastor finally starts his speech while San doesn’t take his eyes off you any second.

You on the other hand focus your gaze on his tie mind really blank the whole time. Only when you’re asked to answer you look up to him seeing his shining orbs and suddenly the man announces you to cats in marriage with the guest awaitening the magic kiss.

San carefully takes your hands in his and looks at you promising. Then he leans down and his lips collide with yours in a sensual way leaving you no option to kiss him back. He feels soft and his tongue provokes to claim your mouth with a longing force. He embraces your waist and kisses you for god knows how long leaving you with a bubbly feeling in the stomach that doesn’t feel as bad as you would’ve guessed. Everyone‘s clapping and San smiles and waves at the guests feeling the happiest he ever did.

The party is in full swing when suddenly the big doors to the hall open and servants bring in the wedding cake with spray fountains on the top. You gasp at the size but freeze in your spot next to the king when you see a face you nearly forgot.

You’re trembling and about to stand up when you feel San‘s eyes locked on your form. „Are you ok, my queen?“

Slowly you turn to him and put on a fake smile to not gain any more attention. He smirks and leans down to whisper in your ear. „I am as much nervous because of the wedding night as you are. I have a surprise for you by the way...“

You frown at him and quickly lock your eyes back on your friend. Woo Young‘s ears twitch still not used to the loud noises and he nearly doubles over when seeing you next to the king.

Anger is building up inside of him but you mouth him to wait. You don’t know why and how he managed to get to you but the love you had for him just sparked again and left you with a warm feeling.

He came here. To rescue you!

Woo Young is quickly out of your eyes knowing you have to get to the kitchen to meet him while San leads you to the cake and of course his hand is over yours when he feeds you a piece of it.

Guest after guest scurries to you and the king to make conversation and congratulate you. The people were nice and you didn’t have a problem to talk feely with them much to San‘s goodwill.

Music starts to play and you and San dance to the first song. It would probably feel very romantic if your thoughts wouldn’t be with Woo Young every second and you fear that San recognizes your change in behavior.

After that the party really starts and cats are storming the dance floor.

You realize the time has come to get out of here. You dismiss yourself with a lie to use the restroom and go straight to the cabin in the bathroom where you hid other clothes.

You put on the uniform of the servants and look from left to right before you leave into the hallway. Walking to the kitchen with quick steps you’re trying to look busy while finding Woo Young. Tears are flowing down your cheeks when you see the boy looking out of the window his tail in between his fingers playing with it.

You stand next to him poking him on the side to gain his attention and quickly usher him to stop when he whisper-yells your name and tries to hug you.

„Listen, I have a plan to get out of here but we have to go now.“

„Alright.“ He takes your hand in his and holds it so desperately fearing he would lose you again if he let go. „I just missed you so much. I was so afraid, (y/n).“

„I missed you, too. I cannot put into words how thankful I am that you came here to save me.“ You both smile at eachother and you hurry to make him follow you out of the castle.

You both run like wolves chased you and so often turned around to see if someone followed you. Much to your disbelief no one seemed to recognize your absense meaning you really could have a chance.

The place where you met the mask seller moves closer any second and your heartbeat doesn’t seem to slow down. Sweat is forming on yours and Woo Young‘s forehead when you stop in your tracks to look around desperately.

„Are you awaitening someone?“ He talks between taking deep breaths.

„Yes. Someone who helped me and someone who will get us out of here.“

After a minute you suddenly hear foot steps in the distance and because it already got pretty dark outside you only recognize him when he’s embracing you.

„Yeo Sang!“

„We have to hurry up! I’ve seen San and some guards searching up the castle for you (y/n)! And who’s this?“

„This is my friend, Woo Young.“ You smile shyly and Yeo Sang nods understanding your relationship when the boy takes your hand in his.

The three of your run as fast as you can again into the direction of the portal passing the town, villages and forests until you can hear a slight buzzing.

„Here!“ Your gaze drifts not only to Woo Young but Yeo Sang, too, seeing the relief in their eyes being so close to be free and out of this world.

For Woo Young it is only important to have you on his side again so he takes your hand and motions for Yeo Sang to get the fuck out of here.

„Yeo Sang, you first!“ Yeo Sang nods at you and a tear rolls down his cheek.

„Thank you for everything, (y/n).“ He gets through the portal and your heart skips a beat.

He’s finally free...

You watch Woo Young in awe and with desperation in both your eyes you make confident steps to the portal. Just when you walk into the light something seems to pull you back and you realize it’s Woo Young who doesn’t seem to be able to walk through the portal.

You tumble back and frown becoming nervous. „What is going on? Why aren’t we able to go?“ You ask in desperation watching the boy shake his head while the moon illuminates the scene in a mysterious light.

„I didn’t know what it meant... but I guess that’s the price.“

„What the hell are you talking about?“

„This guy. He told me I had to pay later for it.“

„Woo Young. How were you able to come here?“

The glare he gives you tells you more than he could explain now. You had a problem. A big problem.

„We have to find this motherfucker and - “

„Ouch, your choice of words is hurting me.“ Suddenly Seong Hwa steps out of the dark of the trees and sends the two of you an intriguing smirk.

„You knew he was here! You knew it all along! Why didn’t you tell me?“

You’re angered and Woo Young tries to hold you back ashamed he got tricked so easily.

„You didn’t ask, little cat.“ A few seconds pass by with you letting out a hiss ready to attack if needed.

„Okay, you promised me you would help us. Now do whatever so he can leave this place.“

Seong Hwa chuckles lowly and raises his eyebrows at your words. „I can do that. But there’s a price for it.“

„Wh- what?! Are you nuts?“

„Listen, I am a merchant. I serve the one who pays the most... so tell me can you give me something that is more precious than what the other bidder gives me?“

„What other bidder?“ You grit your teeth at his words and don’t notice your hands turn into little fists.

„Your journey finally ends here, my wife.“

A dozen guards step out of the shadow all lead by the one you were running from - King Choi San himself.

You take a step back letting go of Woo Young‘s hand out of pure shock. „How? That’s not possible!“

San sends you the angriest look he had and grimaces at your reaction. „This is my kingdom after all. Nothing happens without my consent.“

He just states impassively and motions for his guards to get you.

„Stop! Seong Hwa, whatever he gives you I will double it! I will give you everything!“

He shakes his head and sighs. „I am afraid you won’t be able to give me more because... I already got everything I wanted thanks to the king and you, too.“

You’re feeling dizzy because of the situation and start to cry when Woo Young turns to you looking as lost as yourself.

„You loose. Your plan was actually a good one but you didn’t have a chance in the beginning, (y/n).“

„(y/n), he won’t have you. Go through the portal and leave me here.“

The guards and San get into position at Woo Young‘s words being prepared to stop you any second from leaving this world and becoming a human again.

„If you go I will torture and kill him in the cruelest way.“ San‘s orbs turn darker than you ever saw it and his words shake your bones. He doesn’t play around you know that. And in this moment you know exactly what to do.

Not what you want to do but... what is the right decision.

„I won’t go. I want to talk to the mask seller for a second.“

San and Seong Hwa share a quick look and the cat king smiles at you nodding afterwards.

Woo Young takes a few steps to the portal searching your face for answer his question what you’re planning. You dismiss him with an assuring smile and wait until Seong Hwa is in front of you.

„Did you already take his soul?“

„Not yet. I still have his human mask with me.“

You debate for a moment not knowing if he would agree with it. „If he stays here San is going to kill him. If I stay here I will still be the queen and his wife.“

„That’s right.“

„But I won’t ever be able to turn into a human again.“

„Yep.“ He grins at you from ear to ear already knowing what you’re up to.

„Mask seller, please give him back his human mask. I will stay here and you... you can have my human soul.“ He raises one eyebrow searching your face.

„You know you will never see him again right? He might never give you up...“

You’re crying again at the thoughts and bite your lips. „I want him to be happy. Can you make him forget about his feelings for me and everything that happened here?“

„I can do that.“ With a swift move of his index you can feel the mask appearing in your hand.

You nod at him and turn around to get to Woo Young Seong Hwa quickly in your tracks to make sure you don’t do anything funny.

„What’s going on, (y/n)?“ You surprise him with a desperate kiss. San only huffs in the background not forgetting about the wedding night he still has with you and where he would let out all the anger he has in himself right now.

He reluctantly pulls away still in the bliss of the kiss when you mouth to him ,I love you‘. He frowns and yells out when you crash the mask on his face and push him into the portal.

The last thing Woo Young sees is your smile and then his world turns dark.

San‘s eyes were focused on you the whole time. It felt like if he looked away for only a mere second you would vanish. He could never allow that. No one could take you from him. You were his.

„S-san, please, I need you to touch me.“

A breathles chuckle leaves the king at your neediness. The bliss of the still lingering marks on your skin ignite a fire in him he didn’t know before. A feeling of passion and desire; but also something darker… possession.

He had you on his mercy. His fingers slowly leaving trails down your spine until they landed on the curve of your waist. Your eyes were closed so you felt the tingle of the king‘s finger tips only more.

„Sleep my little kitten. You’ll always be safe with me…“

If you weren’t so lulled in his words and touches you would’ve known that his innocent smile hides something you should more than fear.

But you gave yourself to him and there was no turning back.

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[ginwhitlock]

summary: JASPER/ BELLA. set in eclipse (but is so far from canon honestly all you need to know is that victoria is after bella). When Jasper snatches Bella away to Texas to escape a vampire’s hunt for the girl who killed her lover, Bella comes clean about her hearts unfaithfulness on an unsettling summer morning, in front of God and everybody.

fic type: oneshot, no explicit scenes

warnings: religious guilt, Bella’s weird brand of horny, cheating on Edward, oh and Alice just doesn’t exist— don’t think about it too hard

There was this openness in the air, something stirring from the west, saturating the cotton fields. A yellow eyed barn cat stood still in the morning light, it’s black coat shifting with the bite of ghostly mice. Whiskers twitching. 

It was watching her, she was sure of it, like the pecan trees and the paddock mud and the mosquitoes. All beady-eyed and searching the brown haired girl, the one with crooked ankles and misaligned bangs that just barely kissed her cheeks in the late summer sun. She looked home grown. Wheat wild. A child of desert planes. And most importantly, she looked lost. 

“I thought you’d still be sleeping by now.” A hushed baritone slipped from the screen door, it’s owner donned in dark royal denim and loose leather. 

If it had been just months before, Bella would’ve rolled her eyes. 

But she was different now. As different as Washington was to Texas. As different as evergreens were to red oak. She swore even the sweat didn’t smell right. 

“Wanted to catch the sunrise.” There was a softness to her front teeth, the round of her molars quiet against one another. To whose ears she was catering to she didn’t know. And to be honest, she didn’t quite care anymore. 

Bella made out a lazy nod from her peripheral, the shaggy haired man seemingly relaxed out here on the front porch of her judgement day, all tan and tall and scented like rolled tobacco. 

Shut up, stupid girl. 

Jasper murmured out a response, something about humans needing sleep and southern sunrises being worthy enough to diminish the former from its place on his immortal pedestal. There was a creak and a groan from the haint green floorboards underneath her before she found herself shoulder to shoulder with the two hundred year old soldier; a stray wind had blown through the shaved baby blond hair lining his chin in the slightest of ways. There was a caution light screaming out from his stature and the brunette girl had the painful urge to swallow it under her teeth and tongue. Soak it in holy water and hide it in her skin for him to find. Or rather, Him, if this stay was going to end like she thought it ought to. 

He couldn’t feel that… could he? Stupid, stupid—

“The marigolds should be blooming about now, just west of the barn. They’re quite a bit prettier than Peter’s fields.” There was something off in the lit of his tongue, the way it flipped and rolled off his teeth. It came out… wrong. Forced. Like he was trying to be overtly kind. The way you talk to a frightened rabbit you clipped with the lawn mower. 

Bella frowned something deep and turned nose at Jasper. “Why did you bring me here, Hale?” 

With the question came a wince to his brow, a noticeable blow to his stature. He seemed to fold ever so slightly towards the young girl. 

“Don’t— don’t call me that.” 

Silence filled the unwalled prison of the porch like nothing else, the birds and wind seemingly gone to rest whenever the two entered into each other's space. Like worldly magnets, chess pieces that threw blows instead of diagonals. The quiet held them both. It held them together. 

Bella Swan blinked slowly in an unknown apology before settling back on the blond with the stone facade. She waited for him to continue. 

He sighed. “It’s safer here. Victoria wouldn’t come this far south without encountering things far worse than the likes of Emmett or Rose.” 

“But this wasn’t Edward’s plan, was it?” Bella’s lashes were like rodeo announcers with their back and forth turns to the outlook of western Texas. 

Jasper looked every bit of his one hundred fifty years as he laid a freezing hand on hers, their knuckles slotting together with unpracticed ease. “No. But it’s mine. And you’re gonna have to accept that.” 

She refused to nod at the man with the thigh clenching, hard work mending, touch, for more than a second. She was far from the type of girl that would lay down and let the boys run out their wildest stupidities on her seemingly catastrophic life, but she felt almost resigned in Jasper's hands. There was a calmness between them she couldn’t place as artificial or not, the soft wool of contentedness slowly covering the surveyor-ship she felt stepping outside this morning. The stares of the flora and fauna turned internal. Fire burned in the pit of her stomach, on the nape of her neck, across the fragile skin of her cheeks where freckles started to show, and mostly, on the warming flesh of her hand where their hands met gently. 

Maybe it was Edward looking onto them from a frozen forest hundreds of miles from here as he hunted a scarlet monster, discovering the hidden plumpness swirling around in his lover's chest for the brother he always worried about, but for all the wrong reasons. 

Or maybe… 

“Jasper, can I ask you something?” 

His eyes were like serpents, glowing yellow under the copper wind chimes above them. 

“Whatever you wish, Isabella.” 

Swallow. Breathe. “When you were human… did you believe in God?” 

A pause sliced the air in two. The cotton plants seemed to stop swaying. The feline vanished. A golden eyebrow fell to his browbone. 

“Yes, Isabella. Yes I did.” His face was drawn, distant, like an old time movie screen was playing out on his stone eyelids. 

Bella’s lips pulled at themselves with her front teeth. “Do you think He’s vengeful?” 

Their eye contact sealed itself, his hand moving on its own accord up her hand to her wrist, cradling the small, delicate bones that allowed her to touch him— but not now. Not ever again. 

“When I was a boy, my mama took me to church every Sunday at seven A.M sharp, and sent me to Sunday school after the service. I was the oldest, even then, and I had more responsibilities than just listening to the preacher ramble on about divinity and charity and sacrifice.”

Jasper's face was taught with memory. 

“I had two baby sisters by the time I turned seven and they were the number one priority, you have to understand, Isabella. Ada and Caroline couldn’t have been older than three when the Leroy boy died sitting in the pew behind us… poor child got heatstroke in his wool britches and after that I started dressing the girls in the lightest things I could find and never waited long after the sermon to get back.” 

Bella turned stormy under the weight of the seemingly young man's words, her eyes dropping from his own to study the way his fingers wrapped around her skin like a life jacket, one part caregiver and one part destroyer. Jasper's own hands seemed to start to tremor just slightly under her stare, or maybe it was from the wash of his own words. 

He took a breath he didn’t need. “But. I started listening when my mother got sick, before the girls finished schooling. Started praying. A part of me was guilty that I hadn’t started before I needed something, that the reason I spoke to Him was for a favor, and a big one at that. I was making up for lost time, I thought. I was begging on my knees for anything. And I didn’t get it.

“They buried an empty coffin with my name on it under a white wooden cross after the army said I went missing. Caroline would plant violets around it in the spring, weed out the planters and start again in the fall. She’d leave me communion wafers in our family pew and have Ada try to talk with me through the minister.” 

“I’m so sorry.” A true sadness settled in her bones, her seemingly selfish desire to have the question answered sat like a heavy stone in the out of her stomach. Her heart held out a warm woolen space for him and she silently begged he would sit in it, for his own sake. 

He waved her off and took on a slight smile, something she had never seen from Jasper. Not in any capacity before that very moment. 

She decided she would try to see it every chance she got for as long as he’d let her. 

“I wasn’t a man of religious structure, Isabella, but. I was a man of faith. The small times I was allowed to watch over my sisters only reminded me of that, no matter how far down to hell I had reached, I still had faith in redemption.” 

His teeth clicked together not unpleasantly. “But I haven’t answered your question have I?” There was a knowing-ness in his voice box and Bella wanted to drink it down like communion wine. She smiled back slightly. 

He was beautiful when he sighed. 

“I’ve done horrible things. Killed innocent people. Slaughtered children and mothers and lambs of God. I have worn blood on my hands like a second skin and not once during any of it did I feel remorse. But darlin,” his lashes fluttered like leaves, “not once did I think God wanted me to hate myself for what I had done. I think… He forgave me a long time ago, before I ever forgave myself. So no. I don’t believe in my brother’s vengeful punisher. Not today. Not in this lifetime.“ She’d never hear the ‘not with you’ fragment he had stuck in his mind.  

She had to step back from him then, the vampire who had become all consuming to her chest and her heart and her fingers. The air was warmer in the space behind him but it almost didn’t matter, the warmth layering her skin was enough to burn through an air conditioning unit anyway. Bella’s hands found clumsy solace in her back pockets as she stared ahead at the rows of painful cotton buds waiting to be harvested. The blood almost pulled to her fingertips. 

Teeth and lips found each other. “I don’t think I’m not going to get punished for this.”

Her words were concrete. Cement. Blacktop on a Kansas back road. They could’ve cut glass if she wanted them to. They almost did as he looked at her. 

“For what, Isabella?” 

Knowing bastard. Always. Knowing. 

No trembling allowed now. 

“For wanting you when Edwards away. When he’s in the same room as us. When he’s hunting the woman who's trying to kill me and you’re just standing there telling me not to be afraid of my own horrible heart… for betraying everything I’ve begged for since me and your brother met. I deserve to get punished for this, don’t I? Don’t you think?” 

She was sweating now, cold droplets running down her back to her the soft slope of her ass. Her knuckles were popping against each other like fireworks and she thought she might faint right then and there, MONSTER written across her forehead in a bruise from the impact. 

A scarred hand felt itself into its place under Bella’s chin and forced her rocking skull to finally glimpse the face she had been thinking of every moment she pulled her eyes away. Jasper Hal— Whitlock? And his clear midnight pupils branding her soul in a sinner’s blush. His lips formed a wonderful crook as he slowly pushed her flat against the ancient siding of the old farmhouse belonging to his long standing brother who looked like everything Jasper was except for his spirit. 

She could die this way and she would face God with a smile. 

“What I feel for you deserves no punishment darlin, but if you insist, I think I’d rather do the punishing than any divine power.” 

His lips were light rosy steel against Bella’s own as the clouds started to stretch out infinitely behind his back, unnoticed by the interlocked couple in their wake. A soft moan escaped as felt the soft chill of a crucifix digging into her neck. 

Maybe God would forgive her for this. Just once.