#biting into am like its a chocolate bar

[sapphicvqmpires]

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ who are you?

vampire series | shuri udaku | part 1

Pairing - vampire!shuri x black fem!reader

Word count - 17k (yup)

Contains - smut (18+), fingering, cunnilingus, clit play, overstimulation, choking/breathplay, biting, edging, strap-on sex, blood drinking, descriptions of blood, gaslighting (it’s a vampire story, so it’s a whole bunch of shady shit going on), and probably more I forgot

Divider From - @firefly-graphics

Sneak Peak - “Shuri…baby…” Your breathless whimpers forced Shuri to release you, her face drawing closer to yours, yet she looked so different. Her dark brown eyes transformed into a blood-red hue, her fangs fully extended, and her mouth stained with your blood. The image frightened you at first and Shuri looked away in shame, attempting to conceal the face she despised so deeply.

Tags - @inmyheadimobsessed @amplifiedmoan @vampzxi @abenomeiiii @heejayy @shurislover @shurismainbxtch @shuriszn @naomis-daydream @prettymrswright @pocketsizedpanther @gardenof-venus @tiii-iiiiii @verachii @ihearttish @playhousedistee @somethingcleaverandwhitty @niyahwrites @tishsrealwife @oceean @sookiesookie @myaraines @cafehyunji @6-noir @ventingfanfics @marsology @imjusthere2readbruv @desswright29 @ooglyboooglybitxh @sweetalittleselfish-honey @kisskourt @shaiwritesss @sapphicbarbz @darkangelchronicles (comment if you want to be tagged in future fics, 18+ only)

Writers Note: whew fuck, this was definitely the most challenging thing I’ve ever written for tumblr. I could’ve went on and on, but I realize that’s not ideal. This is part 1 of a three part story, this part is mostly just an introduction to Shuri and her character, delving into her past and her life as vampire while introducing the vampire lore. Reader is nosey af but who wouldn’t be if they got to question a vampire? I hope you guys enjoy this read! I always love reading your comments!

“If I touch a burning candle I can feel no pain, If you cut me with a knife it's still the same

And I know her heart is beating, and I know that I am dead

Yet the pain here that I feel, try and tell me it's not real

It seems that I still have a tear to shed” - tears to shed, the corpse bride

November 23rd, 2411, New York

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ You found yourself sitting in a bar, one that sat high up in the air as most buildings did in the now 25th century. The night sky enveloped you, its vastness serving both as the reason you are able to walk the earth and the reason you want to leave it, yearning, if only for a brief moment, to bask in the sun's warmth seeping through your dark skin once more. Those days were dearly missed. You missed early morning brisk winter breezes. You missed chocolate sundaes on balmy afternoons. It was the little things that made life meaningful, and you missed it all but most importantly, you missed her and this couldn't possibly be her. It would be too much of a coincidence to cross paths in this exact space at precisely the same time, especially when space and time had lost their significance to you ever since your transformation…that was until this very moment. Moving closer cautiously, you walked in silence, struggling to stifle your gasp.

It was her.

She retained the same appearance as the day you first encountered her; ageless, timeless, and effortlessly divine. That finely chiseled jaw remained a masterpiece, her dark skin still the epitome of flawlessness, and her hair wore the same exact short curls that framed her face in a manner that rendered her the most attractive person you have ever encountered. Even after nearly four centuries, you have yet to meet someone like Shuri Udaku. If a heartbeat resided within you, it would undoubtedly be pounding against your rib cage. If breath were still at your disposal, it would stagger beyond your control. However, for the past 400 years, you possessed none of the two. No breath. No heartbeat. You were frozen.

Closer and closer, you moved forward, until finally you took the empty bar stool next to her in the very empty bar.

“Shuri?”

She paused. Her body stayed deathly still right before she turned to see the face she missed so much.

“Y/n…?”

“Yeah…”

And while your heightened senses surpassed any human perceptions, the world seemed to suddenly go quiet, embracing a rare moment of absolute silence. It was a profound silence, the kind you craved after a prolonged period of listening to the world and all its presence for so long and it seemed Shuri felt the same. Both of you embraced this quietude, finding solace in its embrace, until she eventually broke the stillness with the very mouth you had once intimately known.

“It’s been…it’s been almost 200 years, s’thandwa.”

That name. Oh, how you missed that too.

“Yeah…I guess it has been.”

February 16th, 2022, New York

The day was warm, the sun reaching its peak in the sky while your dark attire absorbed its radiance. You reveled in the comforting sensation it provided, a soothing contrast to the ache settled within you, a certain feeling of content that masked the emptiness you felt. Yes, the sky was bright, the day was warm, but your heart was not. Not with the scene that surrounded you.

“We gather here today to commemorate our brother Jonathan. He was a friend to us all, a person that will truly be missed and cannot be replaced….”

You found it impossible not to internally sneer at the kind and flattering words used to depict your former partner, Jonathan, during his funeral. To everyone present, he was a gentle and caring man, someone adored by everyone who had crossed paths with him. However, you were all too aware of the person he was behind closed doors; a coward, a despicable individual who was good for nothing but the depths of pockets. He had used you as a mere pawn in his life, exploiting your exceptional beauty. You were nothing more than an object, a prized possession desired by many men, but he had claimed you. Your parents had practically arranged your marriage to Jonathan, a companion chosen for you due to his wealth. The plan was for you to marry him and become his perfect wife. That was until a week ago when he passed away.

“My son was everything a mom could want…,” Jonathan’s mother began, breaking into sobs as she mourned for her son you hated so deeply.

“He was…the most perfect boy. My baby boy. And y/n…” Her gaze connected with yours, her eyes filled with a pitiful sorrow that you could not reciprocate or even pretend to, and so you did nothing but offer her a weak smile as she proceeded. “My boy loved you, baby. He loved you with his entire being and I hope you know that.”

A pitiful smile graced your face, the only response you could possibly give her amidst your numbness. The pain and hollowness residing in your heart were not born from sorrow or profound grief over Jonathan's death, but rather from the absence of love and affection he gave you. The lack of love in a relationship that had consumed three and a half years of your life weighed heavily on you. All you had received was a shattered heart, and there was no one there to assist you in gathering the fragments except for yourself.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The moment you closed your apartment door, a long exhale escaped you; a mix of relief and stress as you stepped into your now quiet space. It was vastly different from the usual banter Jonathan would welcome you home with, his tendency to pinpoint faults in you as an outlet for his anger that had nothing to do with you in the first place. Yet now, you stood alone. The sentiment was uncertain and you were not sure how to feel about it, but there was an odd form of comfort in the deafening silence. Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, a tangled maze of broken strands. Amidst the chaos, your mind always retorted back to one single thing: your friend, Shuri.

You had arranged to meet with her in a couple days and finally address your suspicions head-on. You were well aware that you were most likely overthinking, perhaps being overly dramatic or even irrational, and that your theories might be far from the truth. But after a year of friendship, the burden of skepticism had become overwhelming. The feeling of being kept in the dark, the feeling that she harbored secrets and consistently hid things from you, had pushed you to a breaking point. You couldn't bear this constant uncertainty any longer. You were fully prepared to demand answers and possibly present an ultimatum because you were simply exhausted and as much as it would break you to have to remove Shuri from your life, it was what you needed to do if she refused to provide you with the solace and closure you needed, especially in times like these.

You proceeded with your night routine, changing into your pajamas and getting comfy in your now very empty bed. Was the bed always this large? Or did Jonathan just always make you feel small? Finally, after a long day, you allowed yourself to weep, sensing the tears tracing their path down your cheeks and absorbing into the softness of your pillow. You cried yourself into the most serene sleep you had in years.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You sat at the diner where you and Shuri would always meet at late hours, waiting for her to appear so you could finally voice the subtle anger that had been building within you over the course of a year-long friendship. It wasn't just a matter of her being a weird individual disinterested in sharing about herself—it was everything about her. The way she spoke, the way she was ridiculously smart, the way she has done absolutely everything and been absolutely everywhere in her short 26 years of being on this earth. It seemed she spoke an almost inhuman number of languages, and you couldn't recall ever seeing her eat, despite her assurances that she did. Her handling of alcohol was reckless, yet you'd only witnessed her drunk once, maybe twice.

There were countless aspects that unnerved you, but the most unsettling was her adamant refusal to meet during daylight. She claimed it to be solar urticaria, a supposed sun allergy, and you believed her initially. However, her increasing avoidance of daytime interactions left you puzzled and frustrated. She wouldn't respond to your texts or answer your calls during daylight hours, making it impossible for you to visit her, even when she didn't have to leave her home. Strangely enough, you had never even seen her house.

The mounting suspicions were overwhelming, and you wondered if you were being silly. It couldn't be true, right? There was no scientific proof or evidence to support such a claim. But what else would your suspicions add up to? What other explanation was there, except that she might be a va--

"Hey, y/n," her velvety voice broke through your thoughts. She settled into her seat across from you, and you couldn't deny how fine she looked. She had always held a certain kind of beauty, and not in a friendship type of way; it was a beauty impossible to overlook, one that left a lasting impression on everyone, yourself included. It was an ethereal allure, almost divine in nature. She gave off an attractiveness that surpassed ordinary bounds, and you were no exception to its impact. It was a challenge to put into words, but she seemed otherworldly, perhaps even godlike in her allure. She was undeniably attractive, captivating beyond what your body could handle, yet you continually suppressed any attraction you felt towards her. After all, you were in a relationship, a terrible one, but a relationship nonetheless. The last thing you needed was to lose the only person you believed truly understood you because of a silly attraction you may have felt for her.

"Hello, Shuri," you responded, your voice carrying a hint of tremor from the nerves that had crept in. Shuri caught on, and her self-assured chuckle let you know she sensed the anxiousness that had taken hold of you, further quickening your heartbeat.

"You look beautiful," she remarked, attempting to ease your nerves, though both of you knew that did nothing but make it worse. Her words carried a magnetic charm, one that surpasses the human experience, causing the hairs on your arms to stand up. You managed a soft smile in response, genuine but subdued, as that was all you could offer right now and Shuri immediately picked up on the fact that something was off about you. There was a subtle shift in your demeanor and posture, a slight dimming of the twinkle in your eyes but it didn't escape her notice.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” You’re caught off guard because you didn’t think yourself to be that obvious. You knew for a fact you were never that transparent. But to Shuri, you almost always were.

“What do you mean?”

“Well there’s obviously something wrong.”

“Obviously? I’m just sitting here, I’ve said all but five words to you, how is it obvious??” Your tone turned a touch harsh, frustration evident as you were tired of Shuri's ability to see through you. Raising an eyebrow, she chuckled, revealing her perfect set of pearly whites.

“I’m sorry for your loss, by the way,” she said once she stopped her laughter. You huffed in annoyance, rolling your eyes as you crossed your arms.

“No need to be sorry…I’m almost relieved he’s good and gone.”

Shuri softly smiled, a smile you knew she tried to contain but it was no use.

“What?”

“Nothing…I just think…I think you’ll be much better without him. You never needed him, y/n.”

For a moment, you almost got caught up in her, lost in her words and the enchantment that peered behind her beautiful dark brown eyes but you remembered what you were here for, and you weren’t about to succumb into her hypnotic gaze as you often do.

“Shuri…I-I need answers…like…like, right now.” Even though your voice trembled, your request was resolute. You yearned for something from her, anything at all. And just when you thought you had the advantage, that same self-assured smirk reappeared on her face, as if she had been waiting for you to bring up the conversation.

“What?,” you questioned her facial expressions.

“What?,” she challenged back.

“No, you’re the one giving me that look so you tell me what's up.”

“The floor is yours, princess.”

You rolled your eyes, inhaling deeply as you debated whether to continue with this conversation. If your suspicions were wrong, you'd feel like a damn fool. Shuri would undoubtedly tease you relentlessly, something she already enjoyed doing. But you pushed aside all doubts and plowed forward despite the hesitations that surfaced in her presence. Clearing your throat, you released a hefty exhale before proceeding.

“Shuri…I know you’re gonna think I sound insane but I’m getting to a breaking point, and I just have to ask…”

“Then ask.”

You paused, glaring at her as you proceeded. “We’ve been friends for about a year now, and there’s no better way to put this but there’s just something incredibly off about you…like, it’s fucking with my head.”

Shuri bit the inside of her cheek, trying to contain her laughter.

“You are insanely talented at like…everything, you’ve been everywhere, you speak multiple languages, I’ve never met your family, or seen your house and I’m starting to question whether you even have a family…or a house…”

“Are you done?”

“Not even close. You never eat…or drink, but you drink an insane amount of alcohol almost everytime we go out yet I’ve seen you get drunk maybe once…?? Shuri, that's not humanly possible.”

“You’re listing things about myself like I don’t already know, pretty girl.”

She always knew her way with words.

“I’m not done.”

She gestured for you to proceed, resting her back against her chair.

“The sun…what is your deal with the day time??”

“I already told you, y/n.”

“No, don’t give me that shit. I don’t buy it…so you’re allergic to the sun or whatever…you can’t pick up your phone?? Answer your texts?? But as soon as the sun goes down…”

Shuri just sits there, interested but also unbothered and you weren’t sure how that made you feel. There was silence for a moment.

“You gonna say something or just sit there and look good all evening??”

Shuri said nothing but another chuckle.

“What’s so funny, Shuri? You’ve been saying nothing but laughing at me the whole time.”

“I was waiting for you to finish what you were saying.”

“I have nothing else to say.”

Shuri leaned in, placing her forearms on the table, her smug grin never wavering. Her eyes shifted between the two of your own, delving into the depths of your eyes. You swallowed, nerves building up in anticipation.

“Come on, y/n. You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

“I—“

“I don’t need to repeat everything you just listed. Why must I answer what you already know?”

“What are you saying, Shuri??”

“Don’t be stupid now. You know.”

“What do I know??”

Shuri arched an eyebrow, and you took in a sharp breath. It couldn't be. There was just absolutely no way.

“Uh uh. Don’t fuck with me, Shuri, this isn’t fucking funny!”

“I’m not playing with you, princess. I have no reason to anymore. You know.”

“Anymore?? What does that mean?? Tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“I’m not messing with you.”

A lengthy silence ensued as you both locked eyes, glaring eachother down. Shuri appeared unbothered, almost captivated by your frustration and that only fueled the fire that was coursing through your veins.

“Uh uh, there’s just no way. No fucking way,” you uttered in disbelief as you made your way out of the diner, coming face to face with the dark night that surrounded you every single time you were with her. Shuri rolled her eyes before she got up to follow you. You hurried behind the restaurant, hoping to get a moment of privacy to collect your thoughts, but that hope dissipated as you felt Shuri's firm grip on your wrist, causing you to flinch at her harshness. Shuri let go abruptly, offering no verbal apology, but her eyes held a silent regret at the action.

“Shuri, what the fuck is going on??,” you asked, attempting to keep your voice down but your mind was too boggled to remember you were still out in public.

“I’m gonna need you to keep your voice down, y/n.”

“Keep my….excuse me?? No! Don’t fucking tell what to do, Shuri! Tell me what the fuck is going on!”

“Y/n…,” a voice of warning, one that was accompanied by her firm stature.

“No, don’t fucki—,” but before you could complete your sentence, your body was wedged against the building wall, Shuri's palm firmly covering your mouth as her body trapped you in. She held you like that for a moment, admiring how you so easily yielded to her control even after your mouth refused to shut up for her.

“You’re a feisty little thing, aren’t you?” Your face softened just a bit, almost relaxing into her touch.

“Are you going to listen to me, y/n?”

You nodded, a smirk appearing on her face at the gesture.

“Good girl.” She let your mouth go. “No wonder Jonathan could not handle you.”

You scowled at her, eyebrows furrowing together as Shuri pinched your chin and tilted your head up just a bit. “Let me take you home and I will tell you everything you need to know. I’ll answer any important questions you have, baby, but you have got to listen to me. Do you understand?”

You were trembling, and though your pride nearly kept you from acknowledging it, fear gripped you. Fear of Shuri and whatever her motives might be. Your heart felt like it could burst through your rib cage at any given moment.

“Breathe, baby, breathe. I’m not gonna hurt you. Just let me take you home. Please.” Her plea seemed to carry a hint of desperation and it provided an odd sense of comfort. You knew that you would be okay and so you agreed.

The car ride remained silent, only the rhythmic patter of raindrops against the car window and Shuri's old tunes playing softly. Your heartbeat felt so loud, you swore you could almost hear that too…or maybe she could.

Once you get there, Shuri swiftly makes it to your side, helping you get out as she softly massages the skin on your wrist.

“I don’t need your help getting to my door, Shuri.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

She lets you go, trailing behind you as you make your way to your apartment.

You made yourself a cup of tea in an effort to soothe your nerves but the absence of conversation between you two left an eerie atmosphere in the space, one that surpasses the fact that you now live alone in a space that was once for two. The rain seemed distant, tapping lightly against your balcony window. Suddenly, the sound of her presence broke through your state of mind.

“So…are you gonna tell me what’s going on, y/n?”

You swallow, trying to contain your composure. “Nah, I’m waiting for you to tell me, Shuri.”

“I think you’ve gotten it all figured out now. Am I right?”

“But I want to hear it come from your mouth, Shuri. I wanna know it’s true because you told me.”

Shuri reclined, stretching her arms casually against the sofa, adopting an almost cocky posture as she grinned at you.

“You gonna fucking say something or what?,” you snapped in impatience.

Shuri raises an eyebrow as she releases a breathy chuckle. “You have such a mouth on you.”

Your eyebrows lightly furrowed together, before you rolled your eyes dramatically. “Yeah, whatever.”

“Fine. Let’s have it your way then. Let me reintroduce myself to you…Hello, y/n. My name is Shuri Udaku and I am a vampire,” she said with a nod of her head, as if the fact meant nothing. Your heart stops for a second before it begins beating uncontrollably, consumed with pure shock. Even though you already knew, you were never prepared for how it felt once it was made real.

“I can hear your heartbeat, princess. Tell me what you’re feeling. What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

“I…I need some time to p-process…”

Shuri remained silent, her eyebrows knitting together as she observed you, appreciating the way you stumbled over your own words. She was captivated by you, by the way your body responded to her and to this newfound piece of information that you were trying to keep your composure over.

“I want you to go, Shuri.”

But she did not budge. Perched there, she observed you, and an increasing fear of her began to gnaw at you and Shuri seemed to sense this. She rose from her seat, advancing toward you, firmly placing her hands on the armrests of your chair as she hovered over you. Her lips were mere whispers away from yours, and the desire to both flee from and lean into her lips was a thin line in difference. You were torn between pushing her away and surrendering to the magnetic pull. Even though she had always held a certain dominance in your relationship, it was different now. It was hunter and hunted. Predator and prey. You felt so small, utterly defenseless, and you swallowed in anticipation, awaiting her next move.

“Shuri…please,” you choked out.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“I—please don’t hurt me. Please.”

A soft chuckle escaped her lips, and though it wasn't inherently menacing, it sent shivers down your spine. Shuri leaned down, her lips almost brushing against the side of your throat, and your entire body quivered the closer she got.

“Please,” you said softly, unsure of what it was you were pleading for at this point. Did you want her to stop? Did you want her to keep going? There was a thin line between the two and the beat in your heart found its way between your legs and you could only hope she couldn’t sense that too. Shuri pressed her lips into your throat, kissing the sensitive skin as you sigh in relief. You tried so hard to contain the moan that was threatening to escape you but you swallowed it, clenching your thighs together instead. The feel of her soft lips against your throat was threatening to undo you and the sound of her voice nearly made you bring her face into yours.

“I would never hurt you,” she hums as her lips continue to softly assault your throat. A soft whimper escapes your lips, an unwilling beg for her to give you more and Shuri took note of it but did not give into it. She removes herself from your body, coming back to face you and your eyes that drown in both fear and want. She takes your cheek into the palm of her hand, pressing firm into your warm skin.

“If I leave now, are you going to be ok here on your own?”

You nod and she smirks at you, admiring how you and that smart mouth of your was at loss for words and how she was the one that got you that way.

“I’ll see you whenever you want to see me. Let me know and I’ll give you all the answers that you need. Just reach out to me, yeah?”

You nod again. She grabs your hand and helps you off the chair, pulling you in by your hips until your pelvis bumps into hers and suddenly all fear is replaced with pure lust and this was nothing new. You always had an attraction for Shuri, even when you were with Jonathan, you could never ignore how beautiful she was and how her beauty lit a spark in you and though there were never any official titles placed between the two of you, you always knew a part of her wanted you too.

“Shuri,” you groaned, completely overtaken by her and her presence.

“What is it?,” she asked, her voice winning you over with the bass it held. You swallow harshly, embarrassed with yourself and how much you were leaking onto your panties.

“I want…I n-need…”

“Tell me.”

You remained silent, hoping that the desperation in your expression would convey what words could not but that was not enough for Shuri. She let you go and your body immediately ached at the emptiness you felt. Then, she gently gripped your chin, tilting it slightly to ensure your gaze was locked onto hers.

“Call me when you’re ready.” Shuri heads towards the balcony door and opens it, and the coolness from outside immediately strikes your skin and you shiver.

“Shuri, what the fuck are you doing?? It’s raining and it’s damn cold, close the door!”

Shuri only smirked at you, scanning her surroundings before she effortlessly jumped off the balcony as if it was nothing. You immediately gasped, rushing to the edge to search for her, but she had vanished. All that remained was the sound of the pouring rain and the rustle of the wind in the air, clogging your senses and sending a sharp shiver up your spine. You had received the answer you sought, the one you needed, but now you were left with nothing but an insatiable craving to know more.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

A week had passed since that night with Shuri, a week of solitude spent grappling with troubled thoughts that ignited an overwhelming sense of desire. Finally, you summoned the courage to reach out and arrange another meeting with her. Shuri agreed, relieved that you were willing to take it up a notch.

“So what about mirrors?”

“What about mirrors?”

“You know…that dracula shit, how he can’t see his reflection and all…is that real?”

Shuri chuckles. “False. I can see my reflection perfectly fine.”

“Ok…uhhh, what about the whole thing with crosses, crucifixes, holy water and all that…?”

“False. Although I do not like being in the presence of those things, only because I find religion to be messy and I never really believed in it.”

You raise an eyebrow at her. “Okay, ummmm…what about garlic?”

Shuri burst into laughter. “You watch way too many movies, y/n.”

“Well shit, I don’t know. Pop culture got you guys all kinds of fucked up.”

“I know, it’s ok. I just…keep going,” she assures, coming back down from her laughter.

“Okay um…the sun.”

“You know the answer to that.”

“I know but I want to hear it come from your mouth, Shuri.”

“You must have heard enough lore to understand that we cannot go into the sun, princess. It is one of our greatest weaknesses. If I go in the sun, I’ll die. It’s simple really.”

A part of you went numb as the fragments and clues started to unravel and fit together before your eyes. Yet, you knew there was a crucial aspect of her you needed to confront, the elephant in the room that you were eager to discuss as soon as she disclosed her true nature as a vampire.

“W-what about your…your diet?,” you ask, already knowing the answer but afraid to hear it anyway. Shuri goes silent, as if she wants to keep the obvious all to herself.

“Shuri, baby…you said you would talk to me.”

“I know what I said.”

“So then talk to me. You’re the one that came into my life. You knew you would eventually have to have these conversations. So tell me.”

“They never last this long,” she replies, her eyes no longer on yours.

“What? Who never lasts this long?”

“What I am trying to say is, y/n…I’m tired of being alone. I’m tired of having this same conversation over and over and over again just for that person to run. No one has lasted this long.”

And that’s when it hits you. That’s when you remember that vampires are immortal beings. “Wait…how…how old are you?”

“I’m 26.”

“You know what the fuck I mean.”

A subtle tilt graced her lips as she smiled, exuding the same self-assured manner she always seemed to have.

“I was born in 1794, turned in the year 1820. And I’ve been this ever since,” she says so matter of factly. It startled you at first, leaving you trying to do the math in your head and Shuri notices right away.

“228.”

“What?”

“That’s the answer you are looking for.”

“Wait, how’d you…?? Wait…can you read minds??,” you ask startled, worried she may have heard all the dirty thoughts you’ve had about her. Shuri laughs.

“No, not necessarily. I don’t need to read your mind directly in order to know that is what you were thinking. Your body language says it all.”

You glare at her in confusion.

“I have been around long enough to understand what someone is trying to say or what they are thinking through their body language, princess. A skill humans think they have but I promise, you truly do not.”

“Uh huh…so you can’t read minds? Then what can you do? What kinds of powers or whatever do you have??”

“Powers??”

“Yeah or whatever the fuck its called!”

Shuri chuckles. “We don’t have ‘powers’. We have abilities. Take for example…the cheetah. The fastest land species…well not necessarily but you wouldn’t call its ability to run fast a power would you? Or the owls' capability to see at night? Is that a ‘power’ to you? How about the elephant's strength? A power? No. They are abilities that help them run from predators and catch their prey. It’s no different for a vampire. We have…capabilities that make it easy to catch our prey.”

You swallow hard, unsure of how to respond to the snarky yet intelligent way she put it.

“Throw that knife at me,” she commands, pointing to the knife you used to cut your steak.

“What??”

“Do it.”

“Shuri, I’m not gonna throw a knife at you, are you mad??”

“You cannot hurt me, y/n.”

You glanced around, surveying your surroundings and noting the nearly empty restaurant as the night advanced. Gradually, you picked up the knife, taking a deep breath before hurling it towards her. She effortlessly caught it in the palm of her hand, as if she had performed the act a million times before, the blade no more than an inch from her eyes. She then opened her hand, revealing the deep wound the knife had left from her grip and the blood that started to pool. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you observed her flesh healing at an inhumane speed. It was no different than the healing process for a human but sped up by 100 times.

“Whoaaaa,” you say, like a child seeing something extraordinary for the first time.

“I can also communicate to you telepathically,” she says, but her mouth did not move. It was as if she had placed her voice inside your mind and spoke to you that way.

“Wait…how’d you?? Do it again! That was cool!”

“I’ll leave it for another time,” she laughs. “I also have senses beyond the human capacity to even dream of. When I…turned…it was as if I was blind my whole life, like I was a deaf and could finally hear. My senses overwhelmed me, I swore I was going to die with everything that was raging through my body. I’m fast, strong, never get tired…I can talk about my ‘powers’ for a long time. But really…it loses its touch overtime. I often forget those abilities are there.”

At this moment, your jaw dropped in astonishment, completely enthralled with what truly existed and that it had been right in front of you all along.

“So you’re like…a superhero…with super cool powers and shit.”

Shuri's presence briefly darkened as a glint of emotion shimmered in her eye, a momentary pause that was so brief but felt long.

“Superhero,” she repeats. “No…nothing like that. Not anymore.” She mumbled that last part and it caught your attention but you chose to ignore it for the time being, steering back to the original point of conversation.

“Shuri…your diet.”

She looks away in shame, closing her eyes before she proceeds to answer. “I drink blood.”

“Ok…and what else?”

“That’s it. That’s all I eat. Human food tastes like nothing to me, it’s disgusting really. It does not give me any nutritional value either. The longer I go without drinking blood, the more I’ll start to feel it.”

You take a sharp gulp. “So how often do you feed on people?”

“Often…as much as I can.”

“D-do you…kill people?”

A brief pause ensues but Shuri's intense gaze stays fixed on you all the while, her jaw tensing before she continues.

“I have.”

Heat rushes through you. “Do you kill people often?”

“Not anymore.”

“...anymore?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

You looked away, almost disgusted with the person you were sitting in front of.

“We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to, y/n.”

“No I…I want--I need to hear this. When…when was the last time you killed someone?”

Shuri refrained from speaking immediately, choosing to study and began to grow queasy.

“Not that long ago.”

“How long ago?? Did I know you??”

“Yeah.”

Another deafening silence engulfed the space between you two. There was no need to voice your next question; she already anticipated what you were going to ask.

“It was February 10…2022.”

Instantly, a sinking feeling gripped your stomach, and your heart felt like it might leap out of your chest as tears welled up, ready to surface.

“J-Jonathan?,” you whispered as you choked on your tears. She nodded her head, almost unbothered by the tears you were shedding for him.

“What…what the fuck is wrong with you??!”

“Y/n…”

“No! No, don’t fucking touch me!”

Despite the near emptiness of the diner, the few present all had eyes only looking at you before you stormed out with both confusion and hurt coursing through you. You climb into your car with determination before driving home, the desire to distance yourself from her was overpowering but when you got home, you were heavily startled to find her seated on your couch, indulging from your stash of whiskey.

“What are you doing here?? How’d you even get in here?!”

“Through the balcony.”

Your fractured sobs were on the verge of breaking free, and your tear-streaked cheeks were evidence of the intense breakdown you had in the car ride back home.

“You can’t just break into my house whenever you want to,” you managed to spit out.

“Can’t I?,” she challenged.

“Shuri…get the fuck outta my house. Get the fuck outta my house, I swear to god, Shuri…”

“I did you a favor, y/n.” The audacity she displayed left you stunned, as you pressed your temples in an attempt to ease the throb in your head from all the tears you cried.

“I never liked him. He never treated you the way you deserved and you just let him treat you that way. I was so sick of seeing you cry, y/n. Is that the life you really wanted for yourself? I mean, let’s be honest. You’re more than happy he’s gone. Now there’s nothing in the way of going after what you really want, seeking for the life you deserve, princess. I did it for you.”

“I--wow. You are mentally insane. What is that, some kinda romantic vampire notion??”

“It can be,” she responded, and you struggled to discern if she was being sarcastic. Nothing could be certain when she wore that enigmatic grin on her face.

“None of that was for you to decide, Shuri! You can’t just go around killing people and for what?? Cuz you don’t like them? That’s a life…a human life you just took away…”

“I’ve decided a long time ago to not care too much for human life anymore. There is no point and it does nothing for me.”

“I…what? Ok…yeah…Imma need you to get the fuck outta my house…like…now.”

Shuri rises from her seat, advancing towards you, and soon you're caught between the wall and her imposing presence once more. Your breath hastens, and the hairs on your arm stand on end as she takes you in. Shuri takes pleasure in the way your body reacts to her, attempting to decipher just how frightened you truly are. You swallow nervously.

“What are you scared of, princess?,” she asks with low lids, her eyes glazed with desire.

“Y-you.”

She lets out a soft chuckle as she fakes a frown, almost mocking your fear.

“Why?” Gently, she runs her fingers across your cheek as she speaks softly, a sly smile appearing on her face while she observes your pleading eyes locked onto hers. “Tell me why I scare you, baby.”

“You kill people, Shuri.”

Shuri nods, humming in agreement.

“You could kill me.”

“I could…but I won’t. You know why? Cuz I care for you…I care for you and it scares the absolute shit outta me.” She utters these words with a hint of sorrow in her eyes, as if a fracture lies beneath the confident facade she typically displays when you're around. Strangely, this vulnerability lessens your fear. You reach out and touch her face, gently placing your palm against her cheek, and she leans into your touch.

“Do you care about me?,” she asks, her voice coming to soothe you.

“Hmm?”

“Do you care about me, y/n? Tell me, please. I need to know.”

In an instant, any remnants of warmth and comfort vanish, swiftly replaced by a surge of anger within you.

“Shuri, how the fuck are you even asking me this right now? Do I care about you?? You killed Jonathan!”

“Yeah, and he tasted fucking delicious,” she snarked back. At that moment, you no longer cared about holding back the tears you had struggled so hard to keep in check in front of her. It felt futile.

“Are you…? Shuri, I beg, fuck outta my house…like right now!”

“Do you really want me to go though?”

You did, you wanted her out of your face but there was a part of you that wanted her to stay and learn more, though you decided to push it to the farthest corner of your mind for now.

“If I remember correctly, you told me you were relieved that he was gone.”

“That doesn’t make it ok,” you spat. Shuri sits back down, manspreading on the couch and she looks ridiculously delicious. How pathetic of you to find the attractiveness in her even in the midst of the anger she fueled through you. She tells you to come sit beside her but you opt for the couch in front of her instead and she chuckles at you.

“I just…you can’t be mad at me for reacting the way I am.”

“Who said I was mad?”

You took a brief pause, granting yourself a moment of composure as you regulate your breathing and wiped away your tears. Shuri sensed the warmth emanating from your body and tuned into the steadier rhythm of your heartbeat before she proceeds.

“I just have one question for you, is that ok?”

You nod.

“Are you relieved because of who he was? Or are you relieved you no longer have an obstacle that is getting in the way of going after what you really want?”

“W-what?”

“Don’t play stupid.”

“I-I don’t--”

But you were cut off by the swiftness of her body approaching you and it startled you. She was in front of you in less than a second, her figure was nothing but a blur as she ran to you, traveling at the speed of light.

“How did you--” and once again Shuri hushed you with the raise of her finger.

“You ask me about honesty, telling me to come clean to you and all I’m asking is the same from you. I need your honesty as well. And maybe you won’t give it to me today and that’s ok because if there is one thing I have in this life of mine, it’s time. But I need you to relax, just breathe. I know there’s a lot more swimming in that mind of yours and I am willing to clear it for you if you let me.”

You finally allow yourself a moment of calm, inhaling deeply numerous times as your mind relaxed into her even just for a brief moment. She made it so hard to stay mad at her, even for something as viscous as the things she did, she always, always knew her way around you. The two of you sat back down, eagerly waiting to see who would break the silence. You had a multitude of questions to pose, but for now, you chose this one.

“So are you like…dead?”

A soft smile appears on her face. “I prefer the term undead but yes, I died so technically that makes me dead.”

“You died,” you repeat her words to yourself and Shuri nods and there is most definitely a hint of sadness in her eyes.

“How?”

Her manner transforms, her brows knitting together as she adopts a more rigid seating posture. “It just happened, I guess.”

Confusion sets in. Why would she permit you to ask all the questions you need, only to respond on her own terms?

“Shuri, your hostility is really starting to piss me off.”

She pauses, her face tainted with frustration.

“You said I could ask anything and you would tell me.”

“No, I said I’d tell you anything you need to know.”

“And I don’t need to know this??”

“No, you really don’t.”

“So one minute you're telling me I can ask all the questions I want but when I overstep your boundaries, you back away. Uh uh, that’s not how we’re doing this. I ask. You answer. Or I’m not doing this, Shuri.”

“This? And what exactly would this be, y/n?”

“That’s not my point.”

“Then what is your point?? Don’t I deserve answers too?? Don’t try to play stupid with me, y/n. It may have worked for him but that shit does not work for me.”

A brief interlude of silence engulfed the space, one that almost broke you but Shuri continued to speak.

“I’ll just leave you be for now because you clearly have a lot of thinking to do as well.”

Once more, she leaves you, leaves you with just enough to drive you mad.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

2 weeks pass by and you have not seen or spoken to her since that day but your thoughts have been consumed by her non-stop. You took the time to do your own research, trying to find things out for yourself but you were met with even more questions by the end of it. You continuously pull your phone out, wanting to meet with her again, but everytime you gather up the courage to type the message, fear would make you delete it.

You prepare for bed, doing your usual night time routine and when you turn around to go to your bedroom, she is standing right behind and it scares you out of your mind.

“Shuri, what the actual fuck??? You scared the living shit outta me!!”

Shuri laughs lightly, finding amusement in your pissed off state.

“That shit ain’t funny, you almost gave me a heart attack. Quit doing that.”

“I don’t know, your reaction is kind of funny.”

“Shuri!!”

“Fine, fine. I’m sorry. It’s just…you never called, I was beginning to worry.”

“There’s no need to worry, I’m perfectly fine. Plus these things go two ways. Haven’t heard from you either.” Your torn is harsh and short tempered.

“Are you still angry with me?”

“Yes.”

“What did I do now?”

“Are you here to tell me what I want to know?”

“Yes and no.”

“I don’t know what that means”

“You will.”

You maintain silence, growing weary of her ongoing games. You walk right past her, rolling your eyes in frustration as you head toward your bedroom, and she trails behind, following you inside.

“If you’re not gonna tell me anything, you can go,” you say as you plop into your bed.

“Actually, I was thinking I could stay the night,” she remarks, casually taking a seat on the bed beside you and getting comfortable. The idea triggered a mix of unease and excitement. Having Shuri in the same bed as you opened the door to countless fantasies your mind could explore, but it also carried the potential for things to become…ugly.

“What? I’m not going to eat you,” she quips, reading your unease and responding in a playful manner. You clench your teeth, attempting to conceal the subtle fear creeping in because even though you know she was simply toying with you, it raises another question: did she have an appetite for your blood?

“I’m serious, y/n. You know that right? I won’t hurt you.”

You pondered it in silence a bit longer before responding to her.

“Fine…but stay on your side of the bed and don’t even think of trying anything,” you remark with attitude and Shuri, per usual, only laughs at you.

“Whatever you say,” she replies with her hands in the air. You roll your eyes in aggression before shifting in your bed, making yourself comfortable as you endeavor to drift off to sleep, lulled by the sound of your own breath and the absence of hers. Your heart races for a while until it finally settles into a deep slumber, a sleep in which you experience the most vivid dream in your entire life.

➳ the dream:

You wake up to the sound of unsettling echoes of a distant battleground, the anguished cries of people you loved and cared for pierced your ears. You had never felt so much fear in your life, disoriented and overwhelmed by your grim surroundings. You never felt so willing to help and use your Bast-given powers that had been passed on to you ever since your brother entered the ancestral plane but it was when you attempted to get up that you realized you were deeply wounded and you could barely move, the healing effects of the heart-shaped herb becoming slow. You were overcome by an excruciating physical agony, you struggle and weep, the most horrific pain you've ever known taking over you. Amidst this suffering, a distant cry reaches your ears, nearly snuffing out your last breath.

“YINTOMBI YAM!!” (“SHE’S MY DAUGHTER!!”)

“Akayi kuphumelela, kumkanikazi wam! Ukuba uyahamba, siya kufa sonke! Uya kufa!” (“She won’t make it, my queen! If you go, we will all die! You will die!”)

“Hayi, hayi intombi yam! Hayi Shuri yam!! Bast ndicela ungamthathi uShuri wam! Sele uno T'challa, hayi uShuri wam, nceda !! NDIYACELA!!" (“No, not my daughter! Not my Shuri!! Bast please don’t take my Shuri! You already have T’challa, not my Shuri, please!! PLEASE!!”)

The cries were violent, compelling you to move toward them, yet your feeble body refused. Your heart raced, the blood pulsing through your veins as if in a rush, leaving you breathless, and the world seemed to constrict around you under the scorching rays of the sun. The warmth enveloped you, vibrant and teeming with life, a stark contrast to the disturbing sounds that surrounded you.

“Uya kuba kunye nezinyanya, uKumkanikazi uRamonda. Uzakuba noT’Challa.” (“She will be with the ancestors, Queen Ramonda. She will be with T’Challa.”)

"Hayi hayi!!” (“No…NO!!”)

The echoes of agonizing cries gradually diminished until they were nothing, your vision faltering as breathing became a struggle, your body shutting down faster than the healing effects of the heart-shaped herb could manage. Your life was slipping away, breath fleeing your lungs, and you made the decision to embrace it as you faded into a state of nothingness and you saw the ancestral plane for a small moment, its beautiful sky right within your grasp until you suddenly awoke with a sharp inhale and a vicious cough.

You were greeted by the serene night sky, accompanied only by the chirping of crickets and you were startled once you noticed a woman seated before you, her face unfamiliar and her accent foreign to your ears.

“Who—who are you??,” you asked, but she did not answer. “How did you get into Wakanda?”

You adjusted your body to stand, surprised that you were completely healed with no sign of injury or pain. “Did you do this?? Heal me??”

Again, you were met with silence until finally she spoke with a grin. “Something like that,” she quipped, teasing you as she sat man spread on the log below her. The treescape surrounded you, the darkness overwhelmed you and you should be cold but you weren’t.

“How did you do it?? What kind of science is this??!!”

But the woman merely chuckled, finding amusement in your perplexed state and the endless questions you directed at her. "Science," she reiterated, almost tauntingly.

“Who are you??,” you asked once more, this time with more demand but still, she gave you nothing. “I-I have to go back to the palace. I have to see my mom, she thinks I’m dead! I heard her cries!”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“You won’t even tell me who you are! Why should I listen to you??”

She shifted her posture, and under the moon's gentle glow, you noticed an unusual quality about her. Her face, though seemingly perfect, bore eyes that were anything but human; glassy, with a hue of blood-red. This sight filled you with fear, urging you to flee, racing into the forest in a desperate bid to reach the safety of the palace and escape the woman who instilled such terror in you.

As you ran, you began to realize how you moved much faster than ever before. Your senses heightened, capturing details and sounds that were previously beyond your perception. The overwhelming influx of sensations left you both stunned and astonished. The world appeared silent, yet it roared with sound. Every rustle, every detail in the darkness of the forest was vividly clear to you.

You pinpointed this experience to the heart-shaped herb, pondering the potential existence of Bast. Could this be a miraculous gift from the ancient power? But when you got to the palace, that was when you would learn, learn it had nothing to do with the herb or Bast. You climbed the towering walls, reaching your mother's bedroom window, opening it cautiously to avoid startling her but your unexpected appearance had the opposite effect. Fear flashed in her eyes and she wanted to scream but she didn’t.

“Unyanisile ntombam?? Usisiporho??" (“Are you real, my daughter?? Are you a ghost??”)

“Hayi mama, ndim! Ndiyaphila! Ndilungile! Andifanga…” (“No mother, it’s me! I’m alive! I’m ok! I didn’t die…”)

“Kodwa…sikubonile. Ubumkile...njani-” (“But…we saw you. You were practically gone...how-”)

“Kulungile mama, Bast undigcinile! Wandomeleza, wandomeleza, ukuze ndoyise iintshaba zethu. Ndiphilile, mama." (“It’s ok mother, Bast saved me! And he made me powerful and strong so I can overcome our enemies! I’m ok, mother.”)

Your mom was taken aback, startled by the way you so openly claimed that Bast saved you when you never believed in such spiritual things before but she did not question you. Her overwhelming emotion was simply relief that you were alive. Your mom was sobbing, tears streaming down her face uncontrollably as she embraced you, holding you as if it were her last moment and you welcomed her in, finding solace in her warmth and familiar scent as you nestled your nose against her neck..and that is when you heard it.

A distinctive rhythm that captured your attention, the steady thump of her heartbeat, so pronounced that it drowned out any other ambient sound. The pulsating rush of blood through her veins accompanied it and it brought you a feeling that was so unclear yet simple at the same exact time. You struggled to comprehend what you were feeling, but the more you resisted, the harder it became to contain. A fiery sensation engulfed your body, saliva pooling in your mouth beyond your control, an overpowering urge rising within you, craving her life source more than you craved anything else before.

“U…uyayiphunga?,” (“Do…do you smell that?,”) you asked, your face still buried into your mothers neck.

“Unuka ntoni?” (“Smell what?”)

"Ndiya yidinga." (“I need it.”)

“Ufuna ntoni, ntombi yam?” (“Need what, my daughter?”)

“Momma…”

"Yintoni, Shuri??" (“What is it, Shuri??”)

You held her so tight, you felt like you could break her and your mother screamed in pain as she felt a crack in her ribs. You were breaking her.

"Umama?? Mama ndiyaxolisa...ndiyaxolisa kakhulu," (“Mother?? Mother I’m so…I’m so sorry,”) you choked out in a state of terror, the sound of her ribs cracking haunted your ears as you held her. Tears brimmed to your eyes as you struggled to let her go, your eyes burned with a wicked venom as your thirst gnawed at your whole body and took away any sense of rational thinking. And suddenly she was gone, no longer in your arms as you looked at the mirror in front of you and saw Shuri’s reflection staring back at you, her mouth covered in blood.

Abruptly, the scene changed and it was no longer your mother in your arms but another woman. She was beautiful. She had deep, dark eyes and skin to match. Her hair was as thick as a lush forest, full of vitality and texture. Her lips are as full as ripened fruit, tempting and inviting.

“What are you waiting for, Shuri?,” she said to you, her voice breaking through your psyche in such a calm, inviting way and you wanted her. Wanted her to be yours forever.

“I want to be with you. Forever. Turn me.”

A surge of guilt briefly tugged at your emotions but that was quickly overridden by an intense longing to be with her until the end of time, an overwhelming love that you had never thought was humanly possible and probably because it was not humanly possible to feel as deeply as a vampire feels.

“I want you to do it, Shuri. Turn me. Please. I want this.” Her dark brown eyes shimmered with a blend of desperation and love and you were so scared. So scared to cross your boundaries once again but the thought of not being with her forever scared you even more.

"Please," she pleaded one final time before you pressed your lips to hers, savoring the warmth of her human essence before trailing down to her throat, delicately grazing your mouth across her tender skin and her pulse whispered against your lips. Opening your mouth, you descended, piercing her veins with your teeth and you moaned as her life source flowed into your mouth, embracing the flavor you desperately needed. And you did this until everything dissolved into an abyss, an engulfing darkness that consumed you until finally, you woke up. And you were you.

You woke up with a commotion of feelings; you were confused, hurt, and scared. Glancing to the side, you found an empty bed, leaving you to wonder if Shuri had even visited your place last night or if it was all part of a dream.

The day unfolded, besieged by thoughts you struggled to push away. No matter how hard you fought, your dream clung to your mind, refusing to dissipate. As night descended, Shuri arrived along with it, standing on your balcony and for the first time, she knocked.

“Shuri?”

“Nkosazana.” The sudden language change throws you off as you step aside to let her in. She has food in her hand, no doubt for you of course.

“Shuri…what language is that?,” you ask with the most curiosity you have ever had so far.

“Xhosa,” she replies without so much as looking at you, emptying the bag of food as she assembles it on your dining table.

“Is that your native language?”

“You never noticed the accent?,” she responds, still not looking at you.

“No, of course I noticed the accent but…Shuri…where are you from?”

Shuri pauses, her entire body freezing momentarily before she resumes.

“Are you Wakandan?”

“So you know about Wakanda?”

“Of course I know about Wakanda. I couldn’t escape it not too long ago, it was all over the news and everything. The world’s most powerful and technologically advanced. A secret hidden in Africa. Home to the…Black…Panther,” your voice trailed off towards the end as you suddenly remembered the reflection staring back at you in your dream. The reflection of Shuri with blood on her lips wearing what you now recognize to be a Black Panther suit.

“Shuri, I need you to tell me something.”

She looks at you for a split second but says nothing.

“Were you…were you the Black Panther?”

Once more, she remains silent, almost entirely disregarding you as she finishes preparing the food. You stand there, observing with genuine admiration. On any other day, her tendency to ignore you would drive you up the wall, your lips ready to hurl curses and demand answers, but this time, you allow her the moments she needs to compose herself. You saw her in a whole new light and you sympathize with her.

Shuri pulls out a chair, signaling for you to sit, and you comply without zero fight on your end as she takes a seat across from you. You bite your inner cheek, plagued with even more questions than you had before.

“You can talk now,” she said, breaking the silence. You took a bite of your food, before proceeding with your abundance of questions.

“What happened last night? What was that??”

“I little trick I like to call ‘dream manipulation.’”

“So you were in my head?”

She nods.

“You made me see…your past?”

Another nod.

“But it’s not like I was watching you. It was as if I was you. I could see, hear, and feel everything you felt as if it was my own. I felt everything.”

Shuri sits there and remains in an unbothered state, only waiting to hear what else you had to say.

“So you were the Black Panther then? A long time ago…or whatever.”

“Mhmmm.”

“What happened?”

“You saw what happened.”

“I know but…I want to hear it from your mouth! A lot happened and I need answers, Shuri! Enough with this unbothered facade you got going on here and fuck you! Answer me!”

Shuri’s nostrils flare as you push her temper, but she quickly swallows it down as she comes to realize that you have every right to be upset.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized for your outburst.

“Don’t be. You have a right to know. It’s just…my brother, T’Challa was the Black Panther up until his life was taken from him and the mantle was passed down to me and then I became the Black Panther. We had enemies, enemies that wanted our resources and our vibranium…stories that are still happening today. I was seriously injured one day in combat, so injured that my loved ones left me for dead. And then I met her. I still don’t know who she is but I know what she was. A monster who turned me into this. Thinking she gave me a second chance at life when she should’ve just let me die so I could be reunited with my brother.” Her voice sounded shattered, burdened with hurt and remorse, and your instinct was to comfort her, to alleviate her pain. But as a feeble human, what could you possibly offer to ease her suffering?

“I never saw her again, the woman that turned me. My maker.” She said that last part with nothing but disgust. “And I hated her…for a long fucking time. I still do. I had to learn to fend for myself, had to teach myself to control my thirst and survive in this human world on my own. It’s been such a long and lonely journey. And everybody leaves. Everybody.”

You sat there, your ears and heart open to her as she fought the tears that loomed on the brink of falling. You so badly wanted to jump into her arms and cradle her, promise her everything was going to be ok but those were not your promises to make. There was nothing you could give her and you felt so small and helpless.

“Shuri…I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok. It’s not your fault. I just…it has been years since I have said that out loud.”

A faint smile touched your lips as you extended your hand towards her. Despite harboring more questions and unresolved moments, you decided to set them aside, at least for the moment. Shuri reciprocated, reaching out and delicately taking hold of your hand, pressing it to her lips in a desperate gesture as she kissed your skin.

“I want to take you somewhere,” she says.

“And where would that be?”

“It’s a surprise.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You are in your car, but Shuri is at the wheel, navigating deeper into the dense forest. It's dark and somewhat intimidating, and you begin to wonder how Shuri is driving without headlights down the quiet road, until you recall her mention of her incredible eyesight. Finally, after what feels like an hour, Shuri steers into an extremely secluded area. The quietness is disrupted as you hear something other than the chorus of crickets; a gentle sound of water and soft waves. It's a vast lake, so expansive that it could easily be mistaken for an ocean from your perspective.

Shuri opens the car door and extends her hand, and this time, you accept her gesture. Leading you to the lake's edge, the moon was so big and bright, casting a luminous glow upon the night sky and the surrounding stars. The scene is breathtakingly beautiful and grand, the most picture perfect setting for a perfect moment with the person you wanted to be around the most.

“It’s beautiful as fuck out here,” you commented.

“This is where I live. You see that house hiding behind us? That’s my place. It’s where I come every morning and hide away. It’s where I come to just be…free. Free from this world and be who I was made to be.”

“So you do actually have a home? No coffin??,” you joked and she lightly laughed with you.

“So what else can you do? Show me. There’s no one around us, I want to see you being you.”

Shuri raised an eyebrow. “What is it you want me to do?”

“When I was…you…in my dream, you gave me a taste of what it felt like to have your body. When you ran through the forest that night to go back to your mom, I felt your strength, your speed, all that stuff. I want to see it. Show me the cool side of vampirism.”

Shuri tilted her head in contemplation, a pensive smile appeared on her face as she pondered the idea. Typically, she engaged in these activities alone, leaping through the trees, melding with the forest, maneuvering in ways the human body couldn't fathom.

"Fine then," she says, rising swiftly before running towards the trees at an astonishing speed. As she reaches the trees, the reality is beyond your imagination. Her body effortlessly launches onto a branch, beginning a mesmerizing journey from tree to tree, flipping and diving in ways that leaves you smiling in complete and absolute awe. It appears as if she's floating, moving with such speed that gravity seems to chase her, almost a blur in motion. You had never seen someone look so…free. And as she comes back down to meet you, moving faster than your eyes can track, there's no sign of fatigue or weariness. It's the most alive you had ever seen her.

“That was…wow,” you say in complete shock and Shuri laughs at you.

“It’s pretty neat, I guess,” she replies with a smug grin and it makes your stomach tingle. Shuri sits in the sand near the lake and you follow her.

“Do you like being one?”

“Hmmm?”

“A vampire…do you like being one?”

“Sometimes.”

“What’s your favorite thing about it??”

Shuri chuckles, dipping her head between the arms she has perched on her hiked up knees. “I like being able to manipulate people’s dreams,” she replies, shocking you with her answer. “I don’t sleep so it’s the only way I can dream, I guess.”

“No sleep??”

She shakes her head.

“What about your least favorite thing?”

Shuri goes quiet before answering, pondering the many ways she could answer this question.

“The blood lust. Being frozen. Watching the world change but staying the same.” She says this while looking out at the lake, taking her bottom lip into her mouth.

“Do you think you’re a bad person, Shuri?”

Shuri looked at you, eyes scanning your genuinely curious face before she proceeds. “I’m not sure. It’s not so black and white. It’s this weird thing, like…vampires emotionally feel so deeply but we were cursed with the primal instinct to hunt, feed, and kill. It’s like…with humans…when you guys get hungry, you simply go make yourself a sandwich or something, right? Fix yourself a quick meal. With vampires, it does not matter what we feel…that feeling always becomes hunger. If I’m angry, I want to eat someone. If I’m sad, I want to go eat someone. Horny? Eat someone,” she chuckles. “And then you’re left with nothing but an overwhelming guilt. It’s exhausting. Humbling, in a way, to say the least.”

You swallow, utterly captivated by her and every word she has to give you. This version of Shuri is vastly different from the person you've known over the past year. Seeing her in all her openness and vulnerability makes you realize that you never really knew her and it's only been in these recent days that you've felt so deeply connected to someone in a way you've never experienced before. You could sit here and ask her question after question after question, but there were a few that burned at your heart and it hurt you to ask, but she placed the questions there with the dream she fed you last night.

“Shuri…may I ask you something else?”

“It’s all you’ve been doing, princess. What’s to stop you now?”

“Well…I was wondering if you could tell me what happened to your mom.”

Shuri hung her head low, trying to get lost in the grains of sand and the mere sight of her made you regret your question but once she let out a hefty sigh, you knew it would be ok.

“I went back to the palace that night…the night my life was taken from me and to this day, it was the biggest mistake I had ever made. I thought my senses were some kind of spiritual doing from the heart-shaped herb, that Bast had given me a second chance, how foolish of me!” She buries her head into her hands and you lean forward, not sure what to do but let her have this moment of mourning.

“She thought I was a ghost at first, that I was reaching her from the ancestral plane, claiming that she had watched me die and she most definitely did but I did not know that…yet. She held me in her arms and I did the same and it was at that moment I knew something was off. Her heartbeat was so loud…like a drum pounding in my ears and it overtook me. My throat burned and I could smell her blood and I had never wanted anything more in my life. I wanted it so bad and it scared me. And I made sure that…that I would have it…” She choked on her tears, sobbing into her forearm and you kneeled forward to bring her head into your chest.

“I was brand new, y/n. It was damn near impossible for me to control it. And with no maker to rely on, no counseling or guidance, I was ruthless. An infant vampire and the taste of her blood was the most…feeling that for the first time, it surpasses any human experience. And it disgusts me to say it but I am being honest.”

She sobs in your arms, accepting your embrace as she feels comfort for the first time in years. The feeling was so foreign to her, to feel loved and accepted for who she was, despite acknowledging that she was the monster she believed she was.

“You didn’t know any better, Shuri. You can’t blame yourself for being thrown into this against your will and not knowing how to cope with it. It’s not your fault, baby,” you cooed, lulling her into your warmth as you comforted her.

“That’s what I thought at first, what I told myself for years. But that was my mother, y/n. My flesh and blood. You would think a daughter's love would surpass anything but that just goes to show how strong the thirst for blood is, especially in the beginning. No human equivalent. And it haunts me to this day.”

“Shuri—“

“I left Wakanda, for good, after that. Left them without a protector, without a ruler…I don’t know how they managed to pick themselves up after that but clearly they did. And I’ve never been back. I would love to…go back, one day. But I can’t. Not with the reminders it would bring.”

She lets out a few more soft sobs before she proceeds. “But hey, I managed to make it on my own. No maker, no guidance. I was ruthless in the beginning. Most vampires are.”

You feigned a smile, one that was just for her. “And what about the girl in my dream? Who was she?”

“That was…she was a dear friend of mine. Someone I loved. Someone I cared for.” A tear falls down her and washes into the fabric of your shirt. “But it does not matter anymore. She’s gone now.”

“What happened to her?”

“What happens to all humans, I suppose. She died. Never got close to a human after that. I tried…many times but they would all run eventually and understandably so. You are my first--the first person who has stayed with me. It scares me, really.”

Shuri gets up, coming face to face with your own tear-stained cheeks as she gently wipes them away with her thumb and you let out a soft smile.

“Soooo…no fangs? No cool eyes? Aren’t vampires supposed to look cool?,” you joke half-heartedly in attempts to lighten up the mood and put Shuri’s aching heart at ease and it seems to work because Shuri lets out a beautiful laugh, that laugh that you have loved for a long time.

“Would you prefer I walked around with red eyes and fangs??”

“I don’t know, you’d look kinda hot,” you half joke and she glares at you in both confusion and admiration.

“Walking around like a twilight vampire,” you tease and she makes a face of disgust. “Heyyy, don’t do Twilight like that. They’re good movies.”

“Fuck that,” she laughs and you laugh along with her.

“You’re really beautiful, Shuri,” you say, leaving Shuri in a subtle shock.

“Where did that come from?”

“I’m not blind. I may have been with someone our entire friendship but I always saw you and you were always beautiful to me.”

“Oh, so now you’re being honest with me? After you had me begging like a fool,” she teased.

“I’ve always loved you Shuri, you know that. You just wanted to hear me say it.”

Shuri chuckles. “Love…what a strong word, thrown around like it weighs nothing.”

“No but I do love you, I’m not playing. I love this version of you. The version of you where I actually know you. Where you let your guard down and just be…you. I love you.”

Shuri sighs, basking it all in. It’s been so long since she’s heard those words and it scares her.

”I wanna try something, if you’ll let me.���

“Anything,” your words rushed out with a tinge of desperation, revealing more than intended, driven by an urgent longing. You craved her, yearned for her presence. Her gaze locked onto yours, her eyes mirroring the same desire, as she tenderly traced your cheek. Finally, she leaned in, her lips meeting yours, and in that moment, you both embraced each other as if it were the last breath you'd take. The kiss ignited swiftly, your breaths turning erratic as you struggled to match her fervent passion. Gradually, she lifted you, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around her, never wanting to break away. She carries you across the small beach, bringing you into her house and not once did you two disconnect your reckless lips. The kiss itself spoke volumes, telling a story of how much you two yearned for one another, conveying unspoken feelings that had resided within long before you ever knew of Shuri’s true vampire nature. The heat between your legs began to rise, becoming warmer and wetter as you felt your clit brush against Shuri’s lower abdomen and that minimal friction alone felt like it was going to be the death of you. Shuri feels what you are trying to do and she grabs your ass in response, helping you feel more as she pushes you into her and it causes you to moan into the kiss.

“Mmm,” you moan, a sound that drove Shuri mad.

“That was fucking sexy,” she remarks and you cannot help but feel a tang of embarrassment for the lust you had for her. Jonathan was never one to tell you how sexy you were to make you feel desired, but instead to feed into his own ego of having you underneath him.

Shuri sits on the couch as you situate yourself on top of her, your crotch above hers, still kissing in pure intensity as the spark between you both transforms into an uncontrollable flame. Your lips were so swollen and sore, but it's inconsequential in the face of everything else. In that moment, nothing exists except Shuri, and your determination to be with her is unwavering. Shuri's kisses leave your lips, shifting towards your jaw and down to your throat as you struggle to hold in the moans that threaten to spill over, your heart beat intensifying. Shuri grasps your ass once more as you begin to grind, your actions portraying sheer desperation as you chase the friction that Shuri’s body gives yours. Shuri's hands reach for hips, guiding your movements and you squirm under the weight of her direct kisses upon your throat. Your heart thumps erratically, syncing with the pounding in your pussy and you are drenched.

“Shuri…please,” you whined, as she bruised and marked your tender throat. “I need you, please.”

Your desperate plea drives Shuri insane, hearing your voice in its deepest sensual urgency was enough to make her take you right there and then.

“You have made me wait way too long to have you like this, s’thandwa. I hope to fuck you at least half as long.”

Shuri lifts the hem of your skirt before her hand finally finds her way to that spot she needed for so long and she groans at how much you are soaking through the material of your thin panties.

“Bast, baby. You’re soaking wet,” she murmurs softly, and you nestle your face into the arc of her neck, concealing both the embarrassment and the warmth that rushes to your cheeks. But she assures her baby girl that there's nothing to be ashamed of, affirming that she had always sensed when your pussy longed for her.

“It’s ok, baby. I love seeing you like this. Let me see you.” Her voice was so smooth and sensual, a velvety depth mixed with a husky rasp that made your head spin as she stroked you though those thin panties, pressing the fabric between your folds as she taunted your throbbing clit. Your whimpers were small and short-breathed as you came back up to face her, your hopeless expression coming to meet a face that was ready to tear you apart.

“I could always tell when you were turned on, nkoszana. I could always smell when this little pussy needed me, so there’s no need to shy away now, do you understand me?”

And you’re nodding your head fervently, almost absentmindedly as you struggle to truly grasp your surroundings with Shuri’s long fingers playing between your dewy folds.

“Want to watch you cum in these little panties of yours.”

“Unh.”

“Yeah, that’s it baby. Look at you. You’re so fucking pretty like this.”

“Shuri…unh…pl-please.”

“Did he make you cum?”

“Mmmm…huh?”

Shuri chuckled in a cocky manner, a self-satisfied sound that rolled off her tongue as she felt a sense of superiority over you and your body.

“Jonathan? Was that his name? Did he ever make you cum?”

You can hardly even think with the way she was touching you, her firm fingers deliberately swiping at your clothed clit.

“S-sometimes,” you managed to say and that much was true. Sometimes he would make you cum, not because he was taking the time to learn and understand your body but usually it happened as a result of him chasing his own high. A lot of the time you would not even finish and he did not even care to make sure you did.

“Only sometimes?,” she teases, a deliberate tactic to understand how to handle you while also reveling in the sight of your mouth faltering and stumbling.

“F-fuck h-him. Unh…fuck.”

“Hmm?”

“Fuck J-Jonathan. I’m glad he’s g-gone. Oh.”

Shuri smiles at you, an arrogant grin as she basked in the mess you were as she toyed with you. Shuri’s fingers pick up the pace, pressing firmer into your clit and the waves of your orgasm begin to crest through, approaching in silence as your firmly gripped Shuri’s shoulders. Your hips are bucking into her as your pussy drools through the fabric, leaking directly onto Shuri’s fingers and the sounds coming out of you are too far gone for your control.

“Shuri, Shuri…yeah! Unh!”

“Cum, y/n. I want to see you fall apart from my fingers.”

“Mhm.”

Your orgasm quietly emerges, a slow, measured sequence that pulsates through your pussy walls as you surrender entirely, collapsing into Shuri’s arms as you ride the waves of your high. And Shuri talks you through it, whispering assurances of love and telling her girl how pretty she looks as her greedy pussy soaks all over her fingers and slutty panties, caressing your clit through the lingering aftershocks as you grapple with the descent from your gradual climax. Overwhelmed, you clutch her wrist, the struggle evident in your lungs as they battle to regulate your breathing, your mind lost in a haze.

“Shuri...I…fuck, baby.”

“You’re so messy,” she remarked with a smirk, hooking those dangerous fingers underneath the fabric of those panties that hugged your waist, tugging until the thin material pressed into your clit and you moaned at the sensitivity. She brings her fingers down and pulls them to the side, your slick sticking to the fabric and Shuri’s eyes flood with lust and desire, burning with a deep hunger that surpasses the blood that lives in your veins. She craves you in every single way. She brings her lips to yours, her eyebrows scrunched together as she ripped the panties off of you and you gasp, finally free of the thin line that was keeping you from Shuri’s skin and she lifts you up once again, taking you into her kitchen as she roughly knocks away anything in her way and places you down on the cold marble countertop. Shuri lets go of the kiss, crossing her arms as she removes her top, coming face to face with her defined abdomen and lean arms.

“Open your legs, y/n. Let me see her.”

You oblige, opening your thick, brown thighs and your pussy glistened before her. There were strings of cum that stuck to your inner thighs as your slick refused to detach from your pussy, creating a web of your arousal and the look on Shuri’s face sent shivers down your spine.

“Fuck, I have to taste her.”

“Then do it. Let me use your mouth.” You were still so delicate and sore from Shuri’s overwhelming touch but you desired more. “Let me fuck your face.”

Shuri got on her knees, bending before the melanated goddess before her as she wrapped her arms around your thighs, resting the back of your knees on her shoulders as she spread you open, coming face to face with the mess she created. You look down at her, admiring the way her arm muscles flex as she wrapped them around your thighs, watching the way your cream stuck to the side curls on her head as she dove into your ocean, wrapping her lips around your swollen clit and you arched your back at the sensation.

“Oh fuck…yes, Shuri, YES! Just like that, baby.”

Her mouth and tongue played with your clit, fucking in and around you in an overwhelming harmony that had you grinding into her face and she allowed it, allowed you to use her face as a means to please yourself. She moaned into your clenching cunt, finding the taste of you being better than she had ever imagined and her fingers pressed into the flesh of your thighs, sure to leave an imprint the following day.

“Unh, unh, unh, oohhh. Yeah.”

She could tell you were getting close, the way your thrusts into her face became more aggressive, the way your pussy continuously got wetter by the moment, and the louder your moans were getting, it was all telling of your impending climax. But she tells you to hold it in, keep it in longer so she can play with you more, feel your pussy clench around her tongue for a few more moments as she watches your clit grow larger with each slurp.

“I c-can’t, baby. Please. I'm gonna cum.”

“Not yet.”

“B-but—”

And your pussy is met with a sharp slap of Shuri’s hand that makes you yelp.

“I said not yet. Understand?”

And you nod your head frantically, your knuckles losing its color as you clutch to the ends of the marble countertop.

“Good girl.”

And Shuri dives back into you, consuming your essence as if she was ignoring your whimpers of overstimulation above her but she heard you, and she enjoyed the sound of you. Your cries were soft and fragile, a mere whisper of distress as you struggled for the woman below you, wanting to make her happy, give her the pleasure she received by pleasuring and having her way with you. You grasped onto Shuri’s curls, feeling her coiled hair through your fingers as you tussled with your orgasm that was on the brink of breaking through.

“Sh-Shuri…please.”

“Hmmm??”

“Please, baby, please. I have to.”

“I know, my impatient girl. You can cum now.”

“Oh…OH. FUCK.”

You fucked yourself against her face, her tongue moving in and out as her nose bumped your clit and you watched your cum trickle along the angular contours of her jaw, glistening against the richness of her beautiful complexion.

“Oooo fuck. Shuri.”

Shuri took one last lick through your folds, attempting to clean you dry but your continual leaking for her made it impossible. She stands on her two feet, resting between your opened legs as she’s greeted with the most vulnerable version of yourself, visibly struggling to recover from the intensity of your orgasms and it was that sight of you that nearly caused her to lose complete control.

“You’re shaking, y/n,” she cooed with a tease. “I’m just getting started with you. I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

“Mmmm.”

“Is that what you want from me? Does getting fucked by a vampire make you wet?,” she asks in a condescending tone. You cannot answer with words, no matter how hard you try and so you nod your head in sheer desperation.

“You will be broken by the time I am down with you. Ruined for anyone who tries to come after me.”

You could hear her voice, yet you were deeply disconnected, unable to fully grasp the profound meaning behind her words and it was so apparent to Shuri that she felt she had to resort to communicating to you telepathically in an attempt to reunite your mind with your body.

“You’re ok, s’thandwa. Follow my voice.” The voice in your head pulled you back to reality, your pussy was still aching but your mind was at ease.

“Now listen to me, y/n. Being with a vampire is nothing like being with a human, especially that little boy you almost called a husband. I’m going to fuck you, and I’m going to fuck you good. If at any point I’m going too hard or I’m hurting you, I need you to let me know.”

“Mhmm,” you manage to say. She cups your face in her hands, brushing the tears that sat on your waterline with the tips of her thumbs, and god, she was in love with you.

“You’re so pretty, y/n.”

“Please, Shuri.”

“Please, what?”

“I want—need you…”

“Mmmm,” she hums knowingly, her eyes dark and seeping in lust as she teasingly drags a finger through your sopping folds, and you wince at her touch, simultaneously wanting more and running away from the stimulation her touch gave you.

“Please? Please, Shuri? I n-need you. Unh.”

“Ssshhh, I know baby, I know. I want to take my time with you.”

Your soft whines of overwhelming pleasure climbed up your throat as she brushed her fingers between your puffy folds, purposefully avoiding your clit and it is enough to make you lose your mind but this is how she wants you; desperate, needy, craving more. But once she presses your clit, you let out a wail as you softly cry at her touch, tears falling down your cheeks.

“My little cry baby.” Her voice is condescending, belittling as she plays between the swollen flesh.

“That’s right, y/n. Cry for me. Show me how much it is.”

“Fuck me?,” you whimper.

“Bast, you’re needy, huh?” she says with a smirk, your desperate plea shooting an ache into Shuri’s pussy because she needed you just as bad, her vampire lust surpassing that of a human experience.

“I know I am…it’s just Jonathan…he n-never—”

“I know, princess. It’s ok. I got you now, I’ll take care of you.”

“Unh.”

“Oh sthandwa, I’m going to fucking ruin you.” She said this like it was a promise, like she was sure no one would come after her and if they did, they wouldn’t make it too far. You moan as Shuri plunges her fingers into your cunt, falling in love with the way you immediately clench around her, your greedy cunt letting more slick pour out for her.

“My pretty slut to ruin.”

“I don’t care, just ruin me.” You buck your hips into her fingers in desperation, craving more and more from her and you were so embarrassed with how loud your pussy was, how much your clenching walls needed her but you didn’t care enough to stop yourself.

“Please, baby, pleeaseee,” you beg. “Fuck me, Shuriiiii.”

Shuri chuckles, licking her lips as she salivates at the sight of you, finding it increasingly more and more challenging to restrain her hunger. She could sense your heartbeat growing louder, sense the blood flowing through your veins and your pussy walls, and she wanted it, wanted you. She wanted to witness your struggle as she claimed from you what sustained her life as she fucked you into another realm of sex.

“Oh fuck,” you whine as Shuri's touch finds the bundle of nerves inside you, intensifying the throb within your walls as your pussy squeezed her fingers. She swiftly took her fingers out, leaving you to whimper at the emptiness you felt yet that sensation quickly dissipates as Shuri starts swishing your clit from side to side. Your eyes roll back, and uncontrollable groans take over.

“Unh…Shuri…fuck, I’m gonna—you’re gonna make me—“ but Shuri immediately detached from you, your slick sticking to her fingers and creating a trail on the floor.

“You’re a messy girl, huh? Fuck…open your mouth for me.” And you do, moaning at the taste of your own flavor and the sight makes Shuri so horny, so wet, she cannot stand to not be inside you any longer. She wanted to feel how deep you were as she buried herself inbetween your dark thighs, get lost in the way your pussy swelled up with each hard thrust she fucked into you. Shuri removes your top and her bottoms, leaving you both in nothing but your bras just before Shuri fiddles with the device on her wrist, her strap snugly fitting to her waist. Your eyes subtly widen at the size of her, she was much bigger than that fucking man you hated so much. Shuri grabbed her shaft, slowly pumping it as she brought it to the swells of your folds, rubbing her tip against your overwhelmed clit and you whimpered at the touch. She puts the tip in, and you immediately clench around the sheer girth of her tip, letting out a soft scream as your body grapples with her size.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be fun to play with,” she comments with a sly smile. She lifts you up and you wrap your legs around her once more, your clit is pressed into her dick making your kisses turn into cluttered moans as you pant into her mouth. She grabs your ass and presses you into her, guiding your hips to grind into her until finally you meet her bedroom and your back hits her mattress, her lean but muscular body hovering over you as she purposefully made sure her shaft caressed your clit. She continued to press fervent kisses into your mouth, in awe of the way your mouth struggles to reciprocate those kisses as you feel her dick moving between your folds, caressing your bulging, beating clit.

“Look at you, how helpless you are,” she taunts as your breathing picks up.

“Shuri pleeasseee,” you whine, so overwhelmed and loving the way she took her time with you. This was all a new feeling to you, your mind and body being loved and explored and it was almost all too much, but your need for her overtook that feeling. Shuri removes herself from on top of you, resting her back against the headboard and she gestured for you to come sit on top of her.

“Take this off,” you complain, gesturing to her bra. She grins before crossing her arms and removing her bra. Her perky breasts were so beautiful and you could not help but take one of her erect nipples into your mouth and it causes her to moan, a sound you could never get tired of.

“Turn around for me.”

“But I won’t be able to see you.”

“That doesn’t matter, you’ll feel me.”

“But—” and she cuts you off by snaking her hand around your throat, causing an immediate gasp to escape your lips. She applies a gentle pressure to your windpipe, deliberately restraining her vampire strength to avoid hurting you. You revel in the way she makes you feel, sensing her containment of crossing the boundaries of her strength and it makes you feel dizzy. Using your throat as a grip, she turns your body towards the mirror.

“I love how you look when you shut up,” she whispers into you, her palm still firmly placed around your neck and you stifle a choked whimper, grasping onto her forearm as you feel her veins protruding through her human-like skin. She takes her tip once again, placing it between your sopping wet folds and your eyebrows clench together in anticipation.

“You ready, princess?”

You nod, and finally, finally you feel full, filled to the brim as her dick moves inside you, stretching you out in ways you have never before and she feels devine. You knew in that instant, she had left an eternal mark on you and you wanted to keep her inside you forever. Shuri whispered praises into you, making sure you knew just how much your needy pussy was squeezing her dick, how deep and wet you were as she thrusted slow, harsh movements that reverberated into your pussy walls and it fucked your mind up. Your moans were staggered, uncontrolled sounds as Shuri’s hand remained around your throat, pressing kisses into your shoulder.

“Shuri,” you cried and she removed her hand from your throat, and when you thought it was over, she unclipped your bra, grazing the material over your nipples as she brought the skimpy fabric to your throat, brushing it over your trachea and you swallowed in anticipation, understanding what she was going to do next and you allowed it. She pulled it, pressing the fabric hard into your windpipe, not enough to choke you completely, but just enough to have you gasping as you left your breathing to her. The act was so sensual and heightened the pleasure that coursed through you as she continued to thrust into you, trailing her other hand down your torso until she reached your clit, circling your bud excessively.

“Oh fuck, Shuri…yes, YES. UNH.”

She admired the view in the mirror in front of you two, got lost in the way your breasts bounced with each hard thrust she pounded into you, the sweat and drool that trickled down the valley between them and you were both a wreck, both so close to your release.

“That’s it…that’s…fuck. That’s a good girl. My good girl.”

“Fuck. I’m gonna cum again, Shuri. Can I? Please?”

“Mhmmm,” is all Shuri can manage to say as she approaches her own orgasm, tugging the fabric into your windpipe and you let out a strangled moan.

“Sh-Shuri…I’m cumming. Shit, don’t stop fucking me. Keep ch-choking me j-just like that. Oh…unh.”

Your orgasm surged within you like a forceful, tumultuous wave, roughly rushing through every aspect of your existence. It started in your pussy, pounding through your throbbing walls before spreading through your veins and dominating your entire body. It was seraphic, a celestial pulse that made you squirm against her, moaning through it as you noticed Shuri approaching her own high but she quickly dug her face into the nape of your neck, an attempt to contain her own moans that threatened to escape her throat.

“Fuck…y/n…,” she sobbed into your skin.

“No, d-don’t do that. Fall part for me, Shuri. I w-want to see it. Let me see what I do to y-you, baby.”

“N-nkoszana…”

“Cum inside me Shuri. Please.”

With her vampire speed, she switches the position so you’re lying on your back and you’re met with the hunger that surged through her eyes right before she pressed her lips into the side of your throat as her moans sink into your skin.

“I-I can’t,” she whimpers. “I need it. I need you.”

And immediately you understand what she’s talking about. She wants you. All of you.

“Unh.”

“Ssshhh, baby, it’s ok. Drink from me, Shuri. I know, just…please.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she struggles to say in your neck and your heart races. Everything is pounding. Your head. Your heart, Your pussy. And you were so overwhelmed but she was buried so deep into you, her thrusts were so surreal and you were no longer fearful of the woman above you. She was unraveling before you, revealing her true self and desires, baring it all before you.

“I-I—“

“I know Sh-Shuri…it’s ok. I promise, it’s ok.” You’re grasping her curls, moaning into the curve of her neck and she lets out one last beaten whimper before she sinks her teeth into your throat. It hurts at first, a sharp pain that scared you but the more you basked in it, the better it felt. Her plunges into you were getting sloppy and uncoordinated and it did not take long before you could feel her dick twitch inside you, grazing your walls as her cum spilled into your used pussy. It was an exchange of want, giving you her cum as she took your blood and it only took a few more messy pumps until you were cumming as well, one last blissful orgasm as your mind danced with stars. You are both moaning in each other's necks, the pulse in your pussy slowing down, a hard yet slow beat that had you twitching and your heartbeat felt the same. As Shuri continues to drink from you, you begin to feel dizzy, lightheaded, your physical body needing her to stop but your mind and your pussy ached for more.

“Sh-Shuri…I-I think—unh.”

“Mmmm,” Shuri moaned, struggling to detach from you, in a world she craved for for so long as your blood brought her to a state of ecstasy. You were addicting, making it a struggle to stop as her body rushed with pleasure.

“Shuri…baby…”

Your breathless whimpers forced Shuri to release you, her face drawing closer to yours, yet she looked so different. Her dark brown eyes transformed into a blood-red hue, her fangs fully extended, and her mouth stained with your blood. The image frightened you at first and Shuri looked away in shame, attempting to conceal the face she despised so deeply.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, ashamed of herself.

“Hey, hey, look at me. Don’t hide from me, Shuri. I-I want to see you. The real you.” Raising your hand to her face, you guide her gaze back to yours and slowly, she complies, exposing herself openly, displaying her true self and she was hauntingly beautiful. You tenderly caress her face, appreciating the intense red in her eyes, the sharpness of her fangs, and your blood trickling beneath them, her mouth colored crimson from the intimate exchange.

“I’m sorry,” she repeats and you gently hush her.

“Ssshhh, it’s ok, baby, it’s ok. I’m not hurt, ok? You didn’t hurt me. You did amazing, my love. You did so well.”

She nods and as you lean in to kiss her, the flavor of your blood meets your taste buds and though it isn’t pleasant, the significance of the act outweighs the taste. Shuri cleansed your lips of your blood by licking them, then did the same for herself before withdrawing her strap that was still buried inside you.

She runs her tongue over the blood that stains your neck before planting a kiss on your forehead. Cradling your head in her hand, she gently leans your forehead against hers and whispers:

“That was better than I ever imagined.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Both of you lay sprawled against her bed sheets, cuddling against her chest as you bask her scent while the sound of waves crashing not too far away filled the air.

“I have one more question, and then I think I’m done.”

Shuri chuckles at you. “And what would that be, s’thandwa?”

“So vampires are like…dead, right?”

“Undead.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever…I just wanna know…how exactly does one become a vampire?”

Shuri raises her eyebrow. “Why do you need to know that?”

You roll your eyes. “No reason, I’m just curious. Like there obviously has to be some kind of process.”

“Well of course there is.”

“So then tell me.”

Shuri gets up, presses her back against the headboard and you straddle her. She eyes the bite mark on your neck, tracing the unhealed scar and you wince.

“So fragile,” she whispers, almost mockingly and your heartbeat escalates and Shuri hears it, causing her to softly chuckle.

“What?”

“What?”

“You’re always laughing at me, so what’s funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just…I love the way your body responds to me.”

You gaze at her in confusion and she only stares at you in admiration, a profound sense of affection and tenderness reflected in sharp gaze. Her expressions held an unspoken language, a silent conversation that speaks volumes of how much she loved you.

“To become a vampire, you need to be dying, at the threshold of death. Then a vampire will give you their blood to drink, once that blood enters your system, it will kill you completely.”

You softly gulp.

“And then the blood will ‘fix you.’ Rid you of any scars and imperfections, rid you of wounds and disease until your body is brand new and strong and gives you back your life, making you the strongest you’ve ever felt. But not without consequence…of course.”

“That sounds…terrible,” you softly laugh.

“Trust me…it is,” she chuckles along with you, drawing you closer for a kiss that you wish could linger forever.

“The sun will be coming up soon. You’ll have to stay here until it goes back down, I won’t be able to drive you home until then.”

“That’s fine,” you reassure. “I’m tired as fuck anyway, I’ll probably just sleep here.”

She nods in agreement.

“Shuri…?”

“Yes, y/n?”

“I lied earlier…I actually have one more question.

Shuri sighs. “Last one?”

“For now.”

Shuri rolls her eyes. “I’m all ears.”

You place a quick peck on her lips before you proceed. “You know I love you, right?”

“For a while now,” she teases and you flick her shoulder. “Is that your question?”

“No.”

“Well I’m waiting…”

A deafening silence enveloped your surroundings, overpowering Shuri's heightened senses, allowing only the distant waves' sound, the rhythm of your heartbeat, and your faint breath to echo through her ears. Your palms began to sweat, and you nervously bit on your bottom lip as you contemplated whether to proceed with your question. Shuri gazed at you, filled with anticipation, almost wishing she had the ability to read minds so she could put her own at ease.

“Y/n, you’re scaring me…what is it?”

Your eyes glistened, and she sensed the hairs on your arms standing on end, yet your voice shattered the silence with your burning question; one she had hoped never to hear again.

“Turn me?” ❁ཻུ۪۪♡

Whew fuck, I need her baadddddd. Also, thank you so much for 800+ followers on here, that’s insane! Love you all and congrats if you made it through that long ass fic

[redak-ted]

i have more incorrect quotes and its the fruity four + the certified dilf and his traumatized husband

Miles: Man, traffic's a pain in the assssss.

Hobie: Daddy's home!

Gwen: Just call him Bayer, or Bear or something, Daddy is reserves for your mother to use.

Pav: I'm about to have one less girlfriend in a minute.

Miles: This food is too hot… I cant eat it.

Hobie: You’re very hot, and I still eat you.

Everyone at the table: silence

Gwen: YOU GUYS ARE DISGUSTING!

Pav: One dinner… I just want ONE DINNER!

[The group is a prison cell that was just hit by an earthquake]

Miles: Uh, I'm gonna roll a perception check of… 4, and see if our cell is, uh, in any way damaged by this quake

Hobie: You're in a prison cell :)

Gwen: You did great. Well, I got a 10-

Hobie: You're in a prison cell with bars on it

Pav: I got a 1!

Hobie: You're in… a cube-shaped place.

Miles: On a scale from “damn Daniel” to “fre sha vaca do”, how are you feeling?

Hobie: In between “it’s an avocado, thanks” and “how did you defeat Captain America”, but as a solid answer I would say “I don’t need a degree to be a clothing hanger”. How about you, Gwen?

Gwen: Probably “road work ahead”.

Pav: I speak many languages, and this is none of them.

Miles: Dammit, Hobie!

Hobie: What?! It wasn’t me!

Miles: Sorry, force of habit. Dammit, Gwen!

Gwen: Not me either.

Miles: Oh…Then who set the house on fire?

Pav: whistles

Miles: On the count of three, what's your favorite cake? One, two, three-

Miles and Hobie, in unison: Chocolate cake peanut butter frosting with chocolate chunks!

Gwen: Our turn, Pav! One, two, three- vanilla!

Pav, deadpan: I've never had cake, what is cake.

Gwen, about Miles: Apparently we’re getting someone new in the group.

Hobie: Are we stealing them?

Pav: New or used?

Gwen: Wonderful responses, both of you.

Gwen: Just be yourself.

Hobie: 'Be myself'? Gwen, I have one day to win Miles over. How long did it take before you guys started liking me?

Pav: Couple weeks.

Peter: Six months.

Miguel: Jury’s still out.

Hobie: See, Gwen?

Hobie: 'Be myself'. What kind of garbage advice is that?

Miles: If you bite it and you die, it’s poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it’s venomous.

Hobie: What if it bites me and it dies?

Gwen: Then you’re poisonous. Jesus Christ, Hobie, learn to listen.

Pav: What if it bites itself and I die?

Peter: That’s voodoo.

Pav: What if it bites me and someone else dies?

Hobie: That’s correlation, not causation.

Miguel: What if we bite each other, and neither of us die?

Peter: That’s kinky.

Miles: Oh my God.

Miles: Bye Hobie! Bye Gwen! Bye Pav! Bye Peter! Bye Hobie!

Gwen: You said ‘bye Hobie’ twice.

Miles: I like Hobie~

Miles: That's it, we're gonna go out and find what we need!

Pav: To the city?

Miles: Yeah, no matter what!

Peter: Well- How exactly do you propose we do that, exactly?

Miles: I… I don't know!

Hobie: Oh come off it, be serious!

Miles: I am serious!

Hobie: You're insane!

Gwen: Why, if only we were all wiener dogs, our problems would be solved!

Everyone:

Miles: What???

Gwen: Or maybe it was a basset hound!

Hobie, panicked: YOU'RE ALL INSANE!

Miles: What did you guys get in your yearbook?

Gwen: 'Prettiest Smile'

Pav: 'Nicest Personality'

Miguel: 'Most likely to start a bar fight'

Peter: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

Miles: Would you guys be there for me if I was going through something?

Hobie: Nope, absolutely not.

Gwen: I hope it sucks, whatever you're going through.

Pav: I hope it emotionally scars you for the rest of your life.

Peter: I hope you reach out to me so I can ignore you.

Miguel: I can't wait to go to your funeral, knowing I could've changed that outcome.

Squad reactions to being told ‘I love you’

Miles: Thanks fam!

Hobie: oh no

Gwen: cries I love you too

Pav: Sounds fake but okay

Peter: A flustered mess

Miguel: can i get a refund

[xanzforl0ve]

Daryl x Fem!reader

“Atta Girl”

Description: y/n and Daryl were out in the woods together during a food run for Alexandria until you guys came Across a cabin. TW: smut, fluff, unprotective s3x

Enjoy!

—————————🖤—————————

You and Daryl were on a food run for Alexandria until you guys came across a few walkers, Daryl got his bow and shot of his arrows in its eye while he did that you were staring at his biceps realizing that it was very attractive how he handles his bow. You click back to reality and a walker was coming at you and you got ur sword and chopped its head off causing blood to go all over ur clothes and face. Daryl turned around and ran to you, taking his bandanna out of his pocket and wiping ur face off

“Ya alright doll?”

You look at him and smiled at the nickname he gave you thinking about it hard and deep until you felt the heat come off of ur cunt. You shook ur head and headed to the to wood with your sword out.

“ey, slow down” he grabs ur waist catching up to you

“Hey look Daryl it’s a cabin. Maybe there’s food and supplies in there” you started to walk until Daryl walks in front of you protecting you. You grab his hand for comfort.

Daryl bangs on the door waiting for nosies and opens the door slowly being cautious

You guys walk into the kitchen while you guys hold hands, he stops accidentally slightly hitting ur cunt causing you to gasp and tighten the grip on his hand.

He turns to you and smiles just slightly and continues to walk around the house

“OH MY GOD. LOOK”

You found a unmelted chocolate bar

He turns around worried

“Jesus Christ doll ya scared me”

You giggle and smile “I’m sorry”

He walks around the house while ur eating a chocolate bar that you found on the counter

“We found everything love”

He came back into the kitchen and seen you sitting on the counter and smiles

“Cmon there’s a bed upstairs we can stay here for the night y/n”

“Y/n?”

You were completely zoned out looking at his strong arms with his veiny hands

You snap out of it when Daryl put you over his shoulder and takes you upstairs.

He lays you down on the bed, grazing his hand over ur cunt again, you felt the heat come off of it.

“Hey you know what your Doing Daryl”

“No y/n what am I doing?”

While he’s leaning over you looking down at you.

You put ur hand on his cheek cuffing it and smiles.

“You keep grazing ur hand over my cunt making me gasp and I know ur doing it on purpose because you smiled about it everytime you did it downstairs”

He’s playing with the hem of ur shirt and yanks it off causing ur perky tits to come out

“Take ur pants and panties off for me”

As he demands you do as he says. as you pull down ur pants your pretty black laced panties caught his eye

“How did you know black is my favorite color”

As he puts his thumb on ur clit going in circle motions causes you to whimper and moan

“Atta Girl”

He Pulls off his vest and shirt and unbuckles his belt and pulls his pants down.

“You are so beautiful”

You whine wanting more of him

“Please Daryl, more please”

“I want more of you”

He lays you on your back facing him as he pulls ur panties he seen has wet you was already

“Good girl”

He slides his fingers up and down ur fold to feel how wet you was until putting two fingers in your sopping hole and starts slow.

As you get use to it you start to tighten around his fingers

“Faster, please” you whine

Making him pick up his pace and went faster making ur walls tighten even more

“Look at you taking it like a good girl for me”

You whine and moan until you feel a knot in ur stomach.

“I’m gonna come”

“I know you can take more”

His fingers hitting ur g-spot making you grip onto his shoulders and biting ur lip

“I want more”

He grins as he pulls down his boxer revealing his angry red tip

“Cmon doll”

You look his cock and realizing it’s so big and wondering if it’s gonna fit.

You clim onto his lap putting his tip into ur sopping aching hole grinding down until it’s all in you

“Ya okay sweetheart?”

“Mhm” trying not to yelp due to the sting of his big length stretch you out

“Lay on your back it might be better to get comfortable”

You got on your back while his length was still in you getting use to it

“You can start moving”.

He starts slow until you the slight pain subsides

“Harder”

Causing him to pound you into the bed.

“Your so fucking tight and the prefect size for my cock y/n”

You felt the knot in ur stomach and seeing staring as you felt ur orgasm come on.

“I’m gonna come Daryl”

“Let it out all over my cock sweetheart”

As he says that you feel the white wash over you as you squirt all over his big cock. He pounds you out of ur orgasm until you feel his length throb inside of you

“I’m so close”

A few more time until he pulls his cock out of you and stroke himself until he comes on ur stomach.

He picks up the sheets and cleans you up and layed right beside you holding on to ur waist and put his head in the center of ur chest

“I love you y/n”

“I love you too”

Pulling him up from ur chest and cuffs his cheek and kisses his cheek, forehead, and his lips.

He puts his head back in ur chest as you snugged against you and drifts asleep.

[outlastrabbit]

Heyoo it's me again. Can i request Big Grunt (the brown haired one, as usual) fluff where the reader is a short GNC AFAB that confessed her feelings to him with a flower and a bag of baby ruth candy ? 👉🏻👈🏻

Reader Confesses to Big Grunt

“Come here!”

The Big Grunt stormed over to you, panting gruffly as his lumbering gait strained his sore leg. You ran down the corridor of the police station, looking back with a hand up in a surrender.

“Wait, wait!” You gasped.

You stepped back quickly as the Big Grunt continued staggering over to you. He didn’t listen to your pleas, rage still in his mismatched eyes.

“I’ve—I’ve got something for you! Friendly. Friendly!”

The large man stopped briefly, his head tilting in confusion. You took this time to fumble clumsily through your pants, looking for something.

“I’ve been here before… and last time I was, I heard you say that you wanted a… a Baby Ruth?”

The Big Grunt’s eyes widened and he seemed almost shocked. “What I wouldn’t give for a Baby Ruth…” he said.

A shaky smile made its way onto your face as you pulled a Baby Ruth candy bar out of your pocket, followed by a small flower. “I know you’re trapped here just as much as I am. So I thought I’d do something nice. I also find you… well, I kinda like you.” You explained bashfully.

The man couldn’t believe his eye. You actually held out the chocolate bar he had been craving for so long to him, and a flower! Who knew someone in here could be so sweet?

“I think I love you.” The Big Grunt grinned.

He bent down to your level and gently took the Baby Ruth as well as the flower from your grasp. The gifts looked so small in his giant hands. It made you blush.

“I really don’t deserve you.” His grin grew wider as he stared down at your smaller form.

You smiled like an idiot, biting back a giggle. “Don’t mention it. It’s my pleasure. I just wanted to see you smile.” You said.

The Big Grunt looked at the gifts in his hand, then back down at you. His grin only widened more. He couldn’t tell what he wanted more now… the Baby Ruth, or you?

Before he unwrapped it and dug in, he pet your head roughly. You squeaked softly as his massive hand messed up your hair greatly and made you feel dizzy.

“My little darling…”

[behoright]

boyfriend! jack studnicka in bed

warnings: welp. smutty blurb. includes bdsm and kink. minors stay away.

a/n: @ancient-remnants-of-love , for you, lovely.

dsvnjkfdnvdkjvn soooooo

Jack

lovely jack

as we all know

very quiet

very private

good polite man

you guys met and just

simply fell in love

not much more than that

when I say this man

raises the standards for all men

....

Jack is straight out of a rom-com

he's just not afraid to love

it really doesn't matter what anyone else thinks

he wants the whole ordeal

constant flower deliveries when he's on the road

and special in-person deliveries when he comes back

chocolates at the beginning

until he found out you like candy better

he'll def surprise you with random gifts

but that doesn't really matter

he's always always present

hands always on you

and he looooves to kiss

if you grab his cheeks and plant kisses all over

he DIES

it literally makes his heart flutter and

he cannot help but smile

so um sex

was always just as sweet

he's def been blessed um

not only genetically (obv)

but um

technically

you never left the bed unsatisfied

not once

that being said

the more the months started to go by

you can tell that

it's not like he was holding back

but it's almost like there was

something

festering

something in his head

just starting to ignite

you tried to blame it on stress or work

maybe he's tired or something

but it didn't go away

you asked him a couple of times

and of course

in the most Jack fashion

he was soooo reassuring

still tho there was something there

so one day you had to be like

"baby, we need to talk."

his heart DROPS

"nothing bad, my love, nothing bad. I just have a question."

"doll, you can't scare me like that."

and you ask him seriously

"am I doing something wrong?"

and his puppy eyes are sparkling into yours

"baby, I told you, nothing wrong, you are so perf-"

"Jack, babe, you're always thinking about something else when we fuck."

and he doesn't say anything

"am I wrong? you can tell me, it's just, the vibe I get."

.....

"no," he sighs "you're not wrong."

"is, is it someone else?"

"no. no, absolutely not."

and you can tell he's serious. like his voice changes

"then what is it? you can tell me anything, Jack."

"I don't know, I don't want to scare you."

and you won't show it but you're like

????????

scare ?????

"no judgement, babe."

biting the inside of his cheek

like he always does when he's nervous

he looks up at you

and he looks so sweet and so tender

"I was just, uh, um..."

......

"thinking about rope."

you can't help it your face just drops

sorry??????

sweet lover boy prince Jack?????

"like, like you know my headboard has bars, like...

...maybe tying you on those."

and the rest is fucking HISTORY

over the course of your relationship

you guys have found to really

REALLY

enjoy BDSM

it's a big part of your bond

Jack really loves the bondage

that's his total favorite

any type of rope

western, Japanese, decorative

he'll do it all

he'll buy you lingerie and then surprise you

with matching rope

he just LOVES

the loops the knots

he gets very focused on all the details

and loves to see his masterpiece when its done

I'm talking about complicated shibari here

it tells him that you trust him enough to let him have control

your hands are literally tied

and he just wants to make you

twitch and moan until the end

he doesn't mind impact play

he'll do it if you ask

but it's not his first thought

he just wants to see you writhe in pleasure

this man has every single toy

vibrator

known to man

he’ll try every toy 

every type of 

technology 

to make you cum

of course he loves overstim

its just the view of you

your skin all flushed and sweaty

he can feel the heat coming off your body 

that’s another thing

temperature

sensation play

he fucking adores it

wax, ice cubes

lights on or off

blindfolds, feathers

blowing on your sweaty, hot skin

he just really likes you so 

vulnerable 

purposely for him

seeing you let go of the reigns

or your body in 

different rope patterns

twisted in every and all ways

screaming moaning crying 

he’s still so sweet 

and just so curious

seeing you cum makes him so fucking hard he starts leaking

always has to cum inside you

it’s almost territorial 

and he likes it a lot when you guys wake up

and he sees you sleeping with his cum leaking out of you

there are times however that he is not as sweet

…..when you ask

he changes so much

no smiley boy. suddenly it’s a huge man 

ready to punish you

towering over you

he just wants you to feel pleasure so 

when you act all bratty it drives him insane

he fucking gets so frustrated 

and it’s been fun to channel that into 

you

his fingers are so long it stings a little extra when he spanks

even tho paddles are his favorite

and if you’re extra talkative

those fingertips will go directly into your mouth 

your eyes look so pretty when they water with his fingertips rubbing on your tongue

he’s just so easy to tease

to send risky pictures and texts when he’s out on team stuff

not nudes 

but risky pictures

your silhouette behind all the shower steam

a view of a corner of your hip 

or your cleavage

your lips wrapped around a strawberry 

makes his jaw clench, knuckles turn white around his phone 

when he gets back he can’t help but 

just fucking take you 

which is great because he’s soo gentle out of the bedroom

so when he fucks the shit out of you

i’m talking about 

there’s a hole in the wall right where his headboard hits

oh and the bed frame is

a metal canopy frame 

obv

so he can hang you spread you open you up on every single level

he does NOT want anyone else to be involved tho 

he’d rather blast music from his room when you guys go visit his family back home

than let anyone get a hint of whats going on

but he’ll always keep that dynamic ON

groans when he cums 

you will never get a whimper out of him 

and he grits his teeth HARD too

he tenses all the way up bc he cums hard hard hard

enough to tremble

yes he has calluses from hockey but they worsen when

he grabs onto the rope tightly when he fills you up

jack’s the type that

he’s too shy to kiss you around his parents

but as soon as he shuts the door to your bedroom 

he has you with a spreader bar bending over the bed 

hands tied against the other rail 

or the top rail so you're fully exposed 

and he’ll use every hole all night 

overstimulate you both 

make you both leak until you see stars

but still melt in front of you the morning after 

nuzzle into your neck when you’re in the elevator alone

or blush when you hold hands in public

🤷🏻‍♀️

[starcursedluvrs]

doomsday teaser

actor!gojo x techie!geto AU :)

hey y'all! thank you for all the love on Talk, I really appreciate every single like, comment, and reblog. i've started part II, and it should be out within 2 or 3 weeks (i'm a busy lady sorry). in a mean time, here's a little bite of another fic i wrote/am still working on. it's a techie!geto x actor!gojo AU where suguru is a wardrobe crew head for a hit broadway musical, and satoru is the star. this one is for all the former (and current) theater kids (kids as in people above the age of 18, MDNI!). there will be lots of smut and angst and plot to come, but for now, plz enjoy <3

wc: 845

With that, Suguru took a deep sigh and finished walking down the narrow hallway. His shoes squeaked considerably less as he climbed the winding iron staircase up to the cast’s personal dressing rooms. When he got to the top, he was distracted by a white-haired man violently shaking the vending machines in an attempt to release a chocolate bar from its clutches.  

Then he saw those eyes. 

Those beautiful, bright blue eyes. They looked like they contained the entire sky.

Suguru started sorting through color theory in his head to think about which piece of fabric would go best with those brilliant irises. 

“Do, uh. Do you need some help there, doll?” Suguru offered, flustered. 

The man just stared back at Suguru for a moment, before responding, “Sure, crazy bangs. That would be great.” 

“Not sure crazy bangs is such a great comeback from someone who’s attacking a vending machine,” Suguru bantered back. 

“Hey, it’s not my fault my boss man loves chocolate. Gotta stock up for him.”

“Oh, are you Mr. Gojo’s manager?”

“Never thought about it like that. Huh. Guess I am.” 

“Will I see you around then?”

“I guess you could say that, crazy bangs,” the white-haired man said with a smirk. 

A tense moment passed as the two men locked eyes. The mysterious blue-eyed beauty scanned Suguru’s body up and down with no shame. Suguru should have felt self-conscious, but he found himself oddly endeared by the man in front of him. Suguru felt a slight blush prickle over the skin of his cheeks.  

“So when is Mr. Gojo arriving?” Suguru asserted to break the silence. “I have some things I wanted to run over with him in terms of quick changes.” 

“So. You’re costumes?” 

“Yeah.” Suguru answered. Did he say the wrong thing? 

“Makes sense.” The lengthy white haired man smirked and turned on the ball of his foot and started walking - no, sashaying - to the door of Mr. Gojo’s dressing room. As the man opened the door, Suguru caught it behind him. 

“Why does it make sense, doll?” Suguru allowed a soft smile to appear on his lips. For the first time in a while, Suguru was flirting. 

And he was having fun. 

“Because. You’re so serious. You costume and props people always have sticks up your asses.” The man retorted with a snort. 

Suguru rolled his eyes, a verbal bite lingering on his words, “We’re just trying to do our jobs.” 

Even though the blue-eyed stranger was  taller, Suguru seemed to tower over him at that moment. 

“Well, I’m just trying to do mine.” Suguru couldn’t tell if this guy was a douche or if he was also flirting back. He hoped for his sake, it was the ladder. Unfortunately, he also had a job to do. No matter, he still had time to get to know this attractive stranger.

“Great. So, do you have an ETA on your client?” 

“Client? What client?” The man looked so confused. 

“…Mr. Gojo…” 

“Oh, we’re still playing that game.” 

“What game?” 

“You seriously don’t know who I am?” 

“You’re Mr. Gojo’s manager.” Suguru stated. 

The white haired man burst into a fit of hysterical laughter. It took a second for him to collect himself.

“Hot and funny. I’m keeping you around, crazy bangs.”

Suguru’s brain short circuited at that. Attractive stranger also finds him attractive. Noted.

“Haha,” Suguru offered a weak, uncomfortable laugh,”Not that I wouldn’t want that too, but I really have a job to do, doll.” 

Those blue eyes blinked in disbelief. 

“Wow. You’re serious, ok. Let’s start over.”

The man stuck out his hand, which looked as if it was crafted of the finest porcelain.

“I’m Satoru Gojo. It’s nice to meet you, what’s your name?”

Suguru looked at Satoru until it finally clicked in his head. So this was the brat Nanami was talking about. 

Suguru shook his hand hesitantly, as another question crossed his mind. “You said you were Gojo’s manager though,” Suguru pointed out.

“You’re putting words in my mouth, I said I had never thought of it that way. I guess I am kind of like my own manager because I don’t have one. I manage myself, thank you very much,” Satoru turned his nose and dramatically looked away from Suguru.

“But… who’s boss man?” 

“Oh that’s what I call Nanami. I asked him what his favorite candy was and I’m stocking up on it so that every time I annoy him, I can apologize with a chocolate bar.” 

A deep rumble left Suguru’s chest as he laughed at Satoru’s comment.

“I’m sure Nanami loves being called boss man.” 

“Oh please, he’ll grow into the nickname. Didn’t get your name yet though, crazy bangs.”

“Suguru Geto. Wardrobe Crew Head.” 

“If I see you around later, maybe I can show you how it feels to have something other than a stick up your ass.”

Banners by @bunnysrph

[mazeinthemiroh]

ateez and their s/o move in together pls ❤️

ateez when they move in with their s/o

genre: crack, fluff

word count: 1.1k

warnings: some are longer than others, apologies

pls like and reblog if you enjoy! feel free to request anything <3

hongjoong

hongjoong had the design of most of the rooms all figured out. and you trusted him with this because he just has a naturally good eye for these things. he has a unique but organised mind; he knows what looks good.

for this reason, everything seemed to be in place quite early on after moving in. the challenging tasks lay with putting together certain furniture.

"we shouldn't have to pay someone to do this for us when we can do it ourselves!" hongjoong said defiantly and optimistically. "how hard can it really be?"

he soon regretted asking that because it was 11:30 pm and you both sat together on the living room floor, still contemplating the instructions that made no sense and the unit you were trying to build still not complete.

you both looked over at each other and exchanged looks, not needing to say what you both thought about the situation.

"you wanna get a takeaway?" hongjoong shrugged at you.

"oh, absolutely." anything was better than this.

seonghwa

seonghwa was in a dream-like state the moment all the boxes were unboxed and everything was in its place.

you looked at him and shook your head, "oh yeah? you're happy now, but earlier you were a nervous wreck!"

seonghwa chuckled sheepishly and leaned against the kitchen counter, a slightly guilty look on his face.

"yeah, sorry about that," hecrossed his arms over his chest, "i just wanted everything to be... perfect?"

"yes, i can tell," you giggled at him gently, wrapping your arms around his waist in a hug. seonghwa grinned at your actions and hugged you back.

"now that i've stopped to take it in, i just can't believe we've moved in together," he dreamily, a thankful smile on his lips, "it feels so surreal. and so, so lovely."

yunho

"so what are we gonna do about that spare room?"

yunho whisked his head around excitedly at this question. of course, he had to play it smart in order to get his way. so he sat and raised his hand to his chin, stroking it as if he had a beard, and acting as if he were in incredibly deep thought.

"we could... i don't know..." yunho lead up to it, "turn it into a gaming room?"

you smiled and him knowingly and tutted, "why am i not surprised?"

"hey," yunho chuckled, "it's got multiple purposes. if we have a big tv in there and a couple of consoles, when people will come round we will all have something to do to break the ice."

yunho always made a good point.

"and when it's just us two, we can cuddle up and watch a movie," he fluttered his eyelashes and you shook your head, rolling your eyes at his forced cuteness.

"fine, whatever. have your game room! but only if you let me beat you when we play fifa."

"yeah, i don't see that happening."

yeosang

you and yeosang both agreed that the fridge was the most important appliance in the house. the fridge was a priority.

and so here you both were, standing next to a fridge full of food. perfect. but what to do next? neither of you had a clue.

"maybe we should have thought this through," you hummed, suddenly becoming overwhelmed with the thought of everything else you had to get through.

"yeah, but hey, at least we got food," yeosang grinned and grabbed a chocolate bar. you shoo your head disapprovingly at him.

"onto the next thing now," you said, acting as the voice of reason in this situation (it tended to alternate) and on passing yeosang, you took a big bite out of his unwrapped chocolate. he was appalled at your actions but knew he had to oblige.

indulging in chocolate would have to wait.

san

"so now that we have settled in, we need to de-clutter all our stuff. you know, get rid of stuff."

the word 'de-clutter' never really appealed to san. he wasn't a hoarder by any means, but he did tend to keep a lot of stuff for the sake of keeping them.

"i know i need to get rid of some clothes," you said, going through your wardrobe. you came across something of san's and smiled, amused.

"i suppose we are keeping this?" you held up his shiber plushie that he has kept for all these years. he looked at it with a fond smile and practically snatched it from your hands.

"yes, i'll keep shiber," he hugged the plushie to his chest, "for old time's sake, of course"

mingi

you and mingi lay in an exhausted heap on the sofa. the unpacking was done. everything was in it's place. it took ages but finally, everything had come together.

"we did it," he mumbled, his tone tired but triumphant as he raised his hand lazily to offer a high-five. you high-fived him back, a half-hearted effort on your part too. your hands collided and fell into each other in the same movement. you were both tired, but that didn't mean you couldn't hold hands.

"what do we do now?" he asked, half-worried there would be more work to do.

but you shook your head as if you sensed his worry.

"nothing," you replied, "we do nothing."

wooyoung

"there is no way we're having yellow-coloured walls when we have to work with this green carpet."

wooyoung decided he was an interior designer when the two of you moved in together. it was hilarious to you because both organisation nor coordination was just not his thing. but hey, he sure had some style to live up to, apparently.

"i should have gotten another roommate," he sighed dramatically and shook his head.

"i'm not your roommate, i'm supposed to be your soulmate you idiot," you whacked him gently on the arm, before poking him playfully in his sides, making him chuckle and grin at you. "maybe i should find another soulmate then, hmm?"

"you wouldn't dare."

jongho

having a boyfriend like jongho had a lot of perks.

for instance, when moving in with him, he did all the heavy work. it made things much easier having him around that was for sure; lifting things you would never be able to lift yourself.

"can you lift that cabinet over here a sec, i wanna see something," you asked jongho, pointing to the place you wanted it to be put. you were seeing what layout of the lounge was better.

"am i your personal forklift now?" jongho asked, chuckling at his own little joke. he couldn't deny that he enjoyed helping you build the home for the both of you to share.

it was weirdly romantic for him. it felt like a new start to your journey together.

[wowbright]

Fic: Recommend

Fandom/pairing: Glee, Kurt/Blaine

Event: December Klaine Fanworks Challenge 2023

Words: ~1500 words                                         

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Although Kurt's faith has changed, he still manages to get his temple recommend renewed.

Notes: This is part of my Mormon!Klaine universe. It takes place after Out of Eden, which I am still in the process of posting to AO3. It’s among the possibilities for their future. Mormonsplaining and mild warnings in tags.

* * *

Kurt and his parents had always planned for him to do Finn's temple work when he got back from his mission. It had seemed the right thing at the time, a fitting way to honor the two young men’s brotherhood and make it even more real.

They hadn't seen its one glaring flaw: they were all assuming Kurt would return from Germany with the same faith he'd taken with him when he’d left.

“I'm not sure I'm going to be able to get my temple recommend renewed when I get back,” Elder St. James said to Kurt on their Lufthansa flight to New York. He was on his third Milka mini chocolate bar snatched from the candy buffet near the bathrooms on the lower deck, and Kurt was on his fourth.

“Why?” Kurt said. “Gluttony’s not against the Word of Wisdom. Besides, if chocolate and cookies are all they're going to offer us between meals and we're growing young men, we kind of have no choice. Besides, that breakfast was hardly a breakfast.”

“European breakfasts never are,” agreed Elder St. James. “But it's not the Word of Wisdom I'm concerned about. It's that question about sustaining all the leaders. I'm not sure I can answer ‘yes’ to that in good conscience. I mean, I voted to sustain them at the last general conference, but since my vote doesn’t actually mean anything since they just ignore the abstentions and opposition votes, am I actually sustaining them?”

“You pray for them, don't you?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I think that's what sustaining means—offering sustenance. With a child, that would mean giving them food and clothing and shelter and support and love. The leaders don't need those first three things from us, but they do need our support and love. And we show that by respecting them and praying for them.”

“Huh.” Elder St. James opened a fourth chocolate bar and took a thoughtful bite. “I suppose that works. I mean, it's not my fault that I can't actually sustain them in the vote sense, and the temple questions are supposed to be about things that are within our own control, so … Thanks, Elder Hummel. That helps.”

Kurt unwrapped his fifth chocolate. But before he could break off a piece, he started wondering if he was eating his feelings, trying not to think about what was actually happening, how he was currently vaulting through the sky at hundreds of miles an hour, every second pulling him farther and farther away from Blaine and closer to a future that he couldn't envision. Hmmm. Maybe he should eat his feelings. It was better than thinking about that. Besides, he felt nowhere near full.

“Do you have any worries?” Elder St. James said.

Kurt had so many worries, he didn't know where to start. Maybe he could mention how he didn't actually understand how planes stayed in the air and it was rather disconcerting to be hovering over the Arctic when he could easily imagine the plane just dropping out of the sky and plunging them into the icy water to their untimely deaths, and while he didn't fear for his own salvation, he did rather like this life they were currently living and also, it would be terrible for his parents to lose two sons in so many years. But before Kurt could think about whether this was an appropriate response, Elder St. James clarified, “About your temple recommend questions?”

Kurt gave his one-time companion a sharp look. “What's that supposed to mean?” The recommend questions included one about the law of chastity, and while Kurt knew he had done nothing wrong, it would be better if rumors didn’t spread. Blaine was still inside the mission.

“Nothing in particular.” The vacant look behind elder St. James's eyes seemed to confirm his sincerity. “I mean, you’re such a Peter Priesthood I figured you wouldn't have trouble with any of them. But maybe I was hoping, just a little, that you were in the same boat as me.”

“What boat is that?” Kurt asked.

Elder St. James popped the rest of his chocolate bar into his mouth and chewed it slowly. He didn't speak again until he had swallowed it all. “I don't know. Not as excited about all this church stuff as I was when we were on the plane out here? I mean, I don't even know if I want to go to the temple again.”

"Well, the temple is –" Kurt looked over your shoulder to make sure no one was listening. He had, perhaps, become a little too used to speaking about the temple freely with Blaine. “–it's a lot different from every day worship. And the sessions are long. But I want to go back. I have work to do for my stepbrother.”

The necessity of that work, Kurt’s obligation to his family—they had nagged at Kurt as he’d weighed the risks of becoming physically intimate with Blaine. It had felt like another unfairness imposed on him by the church, forced to choose between loyalty to the family he came from and commitment to the family he was discovering in Blaine.

But as time passed and Kurt got closer to leaving Germany, denying the gift Blaine was offering him had begun to feel like a sin bigger than any lie Kurt might tell the bishop. And he had discovered just how true that was when they finally slept together: being intimate with Blaine, Kurt had felt for the first time what it must have been like to be one of those legendary first humans, before sin and pain existed, when they felt no shame in their nakedness or the bodies that had been gifted them. Their love was sinless because it grew from that same place without sin.

So it was with a clean conscience, upon returning to Ohio, that Kurt answered yes to his bishop’s question of Do you obey the law of chastity? Kurt’s actions with Blaine had been authentically chaste—reserved for one’s spouse, pure in conduct and intention, free of coercion, seeing the full humanity of the other person and loving them for it. Blaine was his other half in the truest sense, regardless of whether the church or the law recognized it.

Nor did Kurt have any qualms about professing his testimony in God the creator or in Jesus Christ or the restoration of the gospel—his faith in these things was even deeper than before he left on his mission, though in a way he would never have expected.

Even Do you support, affiliate with, or agree with any group or individual whose teachings or practices are contrary to or oppose those accepted by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints? was easy to answer the right way, because the only teachings “accepted by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints” were those that had come before the general conference for a vote of common consent. The Proclamation on the Family wasn't one of those things. And besides, he was pretty sure the question was mainly meant to root out polygamists.

Do you keep the covenants that you made in the temple? and Do you strive to keep the covenants you have made, to attend your sacrament and other meetings, and to keep your life in harmony with the laws and commandments of the gospel? were harder. Kurt wasn't even sure he remembered all the covenants he had made in the temple. But the ones he remembered, and the ones he had honestly agreed to, with full understanding—he strove to keep those. As for keeping his life in harmony with the laws and commandments of the gospel, he was more committed to doing that than he’d ever been, even if his understanding of “the gospel” was probably different than his bishop’s.

“Have there been any sins or misdeeds in your life that should have been resolved with priesthood authorities but have not been?” the bishop asked.

“No,” Kurt answered.

“And finally,” the bishop said, “do you consider yourself worthy to enter the Lord’s house and participate in temple ordinances?”

No more or less than any other of God’s children, Kurt thought to say, but he knew it wasn't the answer the bishop was looking for and would only confuse him. “Yes,” Kurt said.

The bishop signed the recommend and sent Kurt on his way with a smile and a handshake and, “Now, don’t spend all your time at the temple. Your first priority now that you've gotten back from your mission is to find a wife.”

“Thanks for the advice," said Kurt, trying to accept it in the same well-meaning spirit it was given.

Then it was rinse and repeat with the stake president, and Kurt had his recommend. Alone in the car, he turned the card over in his hand, staring at the movement of light over its barcode and lettering. “Finn,” he said, “I hope you’re ready for this.”

[electrospherevaults]

Spare a Little Innocence

Excerpt from Maiden, sequel to Defiler.

[The Maidens of Wrethella have been fighting in another bloodied conflict in another corner of the galaxy. After the end of a prolonged siege that saw them lose a close comrade, the squad of Lady Analussa takes the time to lick their wounds. The two armies that fought against one another are doing the same.]

“That guy doesn’t look too good,” Analussa commented.

“HEY YOU!” Zenella shouted at the soldier, but he did not respond. He just remained sat by a steel crate that had remained intact, rubble at his feet, helmet on his laps, rifle laying against him and eyes that stared mindlessly down its barrel.

They long had forgotten how to blink.

“Shellshock,” Belissi commented. “Analussa, should we go-”

Tosanovva brushed against Belissi, prompting her to stop talking. She continued walking past her, her scoped rifle left behind, passed along to Jenivirre alongside her lit cig. Belissi, much like the rest of them, quieted down and observed.

Tosanovva sat by the soldier. She unwrapped a candy bar she had on her – a bit of chocolate and fruits and berries, all mushed together to such an extent you only got hints of flavour from a bit of everything with each bite. The exception was the oats. And there were a lot of oats. Nobody liked the oats, so she had found herself a small pocket of heaven she knew she could tap into that nobody else would bat an eye for. She extended this heaven of hers to him, taking his hand and opening it. He put the bar down on his palm.

“Eat.”

The soldier, a slight panic in his eyes, complied. He unwrapped the candy and brought his food to his face. He took the first bite.

“You need the respite, soldier.”

The soldier nodded again and again in a hurry, almost mechanically, by sheer brute force of discipline instilled into him. There was no room for doubt and hesitation in war after all – any seconds wasted and a bullet will remind you why. Tosanovva stayed by his side with each tiny bite, the mist from the rubble clearing with each gentle gust of wind that swept. The gunfire had long died down. Only the eerie peace of the aftermath remained by their sides.

“Dankebo,” the soldier mustered eventually once he was halfway through.

Tosanovva turned to look at him. “You’re from the north, aren’t you?”

The soldier nodded. “I am a Rotringer, ja.”

“Shouldn’t you be with the republicans instead of the centrals?

The soldier grasped onto his bar tighter. He almost smashed it. He took the bite, chomping down a larger chunk this time. His long stare returned, losing itself amidst a thousand yards up north from here. “My brother is.” He tried to bring his feet back to the ground, taking another tiny bite, letting the merciful mix of chocolate, berries and oats wash over him. “I hope I didn’t kill him today.”

He let the words hang out in the air, an air poisoned with smog and fire and rotting carcasses. Even if he did, there was no way one could tell. It was not the stench that got you, it was the way your nostrils accommodated the slaughter, and the realization of its normalization that did. On your first day of combat, the adrenaline does not let you recognize the mauled and the broken that fell besides you. On the second day, their bodies flood you with their miasma. On the third month, their memories do not register anymore.

“And if I did,” he finally said again, the bar depleted in his hands, “I hope it was a clean kill. I hope I did not make him suffer.”

“War rarely is a clean affair.” The soldier turned to look at the Maiden besides him. Her face did not look much younger than his – and she already bore more scars and stitches. Tosanovva pulled out two more of her candy bars from her pouch. She offered another to the soldier. He hesitated at first, but he ultimately grabbed it.

“If you do not mind, Maiden,” he asked a bit later, “what happened to your face?”

“Oh, this?” Tosanovva chuckled as she pointed to the stitch on her left cheek. “That’s my girlfriend’s handiwork. Cutest solarian nurse in the galaxy!”

The soldier smiled. “She must be very lucky indeed!”

“Oh you would be mistaken – I am the one in luck. Without her, this whole jaw would be gone.”

“Oh,” the soldier responded. He unwrapped the second bar quietly. He cut it in half, and shared it with her. She held it in her hands, and put on a bitter smile.

“War is rarely clean. Yet, we forge on, counting our blessings.” Tosanovva got up again. “Find some rest, find some friends. Your brother is in Wrethella’s hands now, soldier. So are you.”

The soldier nodded. He smiled again. Tosanovva returned the smile and turned to walk away.

“Thank you for the candy, Maiden!”

Tosanovva turned her head slightly, still smiling, and gave a welcoming nod. She then walked back over to her squad.

Whatever remained of it.

“Is your new boyfriend going to be alright?” Belissi asked, a playful smirk on her face. Tosanovva did not return the gesture.

“I killed his brother,” she answered coldly.

The squad stood still.

Smiles and teases and laughter died down. Belissi stepped back. “How can you be sure?” Yevletti asked instead.

“I saw him in my scopes. Same birthmark under the right eye. Squished lips. Long neck.” She extended her hand, and Jenivirre passed her the lit cig she was already smoking. She tried to bring it close to her lips, but she let it hang by her throat. Any closer, and her carotid would have gotten burnt. “That’s where I got him.”

Tosanovva put the cig on and puffed, letting a long billow of smoke come out of her lungs. She opened her eyes and tried to look for the sun. Only traces pierced through.

“Ouch.” Jenivirre commented as Tosanovva handed the cig back to her, exchanging it for the rifle she entrusted her with. “Nasty way to go.”

“Did you tell him?” Analussa queried, checking her equipment one final time. Tosanovva shook her head. “Good.”

“Why is this good? He is instilled with false hope now,” Zenella shot back.

“We were innocents once too, Lady Zenella,” Tosanovva responded, putting the rifle on her back. “It is good to spare ourselves a little innocence wherever we can.”

Zenella opened her mouth, and then closed it back. She traced her fingers against the metal mask that covered half her face. “You are right,” she said.

[whatsnewalycat]

Just Dumb Enough to Try

Chapter 25: Pitch Dark

Word Count: 4.3k+

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Tags / CW: swearing, cheating/infidelity, domestic abuse, smoking, kidnapping, pregnancy, tension, cops, gore and violence, I don't really want to say anything else to prevent spoilers but I think if you've made it this far you'll be fine???

Chapter Summary: The search comes to an end.

Notes: Chapter title from "Pitch Dark" by Chelsea Jade. FYI: the playlist for this chapter is a banger. I'll post chapter 26 probably on Friday this week because I'm going to the WWWY festival in Vegas next weekend (pray for me I am very neurodivergent why am I doing this). I cannot belieeeeeeeeeve we're almost to the end of this story. I'm a proud mama. OK ANYWAY HERE YA GO!

[ Masterlist for Series ] [ Taglist ] [ Spotify Playlist ] [ AO3 ]

8734 177th Rd, Laredo, TX July 31, 1998

After you’re roused from sleep by creaking footsteps outside the closet door, and come out the other side of your subsequent full-body panic attack, Dan drags you out into the foyer again.

The foyer, with its dusty hardwood floors, and cobwebs, and fucking yellow wallpaper, and the woody ammonia mouse piss smell. Morning sun hits the other side of the house, making the vacant room all dim natural light and shadowy corners.

He deposits you in the same spot he did yesterday, his presence suspiciously neutral as he sits down facing you and takes the gag out of your mouth. You take a deep breath of air and choke on it, triggering a coughing fit. Fearing the metallic, rotten wad of fabric being stuffed in your mouth again, you gasp out, “Sorry- not- trying,” when your seizing lungs let you.

He pulls a chocolate chip granola bar out of his pants pocket and opens it, ignoring the coughing completely. You note that he’s in a clean set of clothes and is no longer covered in blood. On his skin and hair, though, faint red stains remain.

It reminds you of Halloween 1995, when you dressed up as a vampire. You bought a tube of fake blood for $1 at the local drug store to smear on your face for dramatic effect. The red dye was unforgiving and left your face tinged red for a week, no matter how hard you tried to scrub it off your skin.

Again, you wonder if it’s Javier’s blood. But unlike last night, the thought doesn’t make you spiral. Because something happened.

I hear you, cariño.

The words play on repeat in your head. In the midst of your good morning panic attack, you were praying to God or anybody, his voice cut through the fog, crystal clear. It perplexes you.

Dan pinches off a chunk of granola bar the size of a quarter and brings it to your lips. You open your mouth and grab it with your teeth, trying not to be too obvious about how hard you’re avoiding touching your lips to his fingers. Between bites, he tips a plastic water bottle to your lips and you take sips.

He gets up and retrieves something from behind you, then sits down, crossing his long legs in front of him as he sets a first aid kit on the floor between you. You flinch when his hands land on your shoulders. He doesn’t react to the involuntary movement, just murmurs, “I’m gonna remove the rope to clean your wounds. Don’t make me regret it.”

“Ok,” you exhale in a shaky breath and watch the wallpaper like you expect it to do something. He moves methodically, untying the knots around your ankles, then your wrists, then your shoulders. His blonde curtain bangs hang loosely in front of his face, swaying from side to side as he tends to you.

Steady hands crinkle the weak plastic of a disposable water bottle when he twists it open, then pours some water over the lacerations. He dabs them with paper towels in an attempt to clear the wounds of debris. The pop of a cap being pried open makes you flinch, then he advises gently, “This is going to sting,” before he pours rubbing alcohol on the wounds.

Sizzling, searing pain rips a howl from your hoarse throat, and, even though you try your damndest to sit still and work through the pain, your feet smack against the dusty hardwood floor with a mind of their own.

“I’m not trying,” you whimper when he stares at you with a clenched jaw, deep blue eyes drenched in annoyance at your outburst.

He shoulders soften as he sighs, “I know.”

The searing pain fizzles out to a faint sting. He applies goopy ointment, then wraps the wounds in gauze. Once the rope burns are cleaned and dressed, he moves you closer and has you face him so he can clean your split cheek. The first couple of times he reaches out to touch you, you flinch.

Eventually, though, the movements don’t seize your breath, and it feels... strangely intimate. He’s calm, face almost appearing sympathetic, when you whimper helplessly at the rubbing alcohol burn this time. It dawns on you that the man you’ve spent the last four years with is still there somewhere.

You try to make casual conversation like you have across the dining room table hundreds of times before, asking him, “How was softball?”

To your surprise, he responds to this with a shrug, “It was fine. Average, I guess. We played a scrimmage, went ‘n’ got some drinks at Cowboy Slim’s after.”

“How is your new glove working out for you?” your throat feels raw and bruised when you swallow hard, tiptoeing into the realm of non-violent interaction.

“Kinda sucks, not gonna lie,” he mutters as he tapes down the gauze on your face, “Still breaking it in. So pissed I lost my old one. That one was perfect, I had it for so long.”

“Yeah,” you nod, staring forward at the yellow-tinged wallpaper, “Sometimes you lose things and just… have to move on, you know? It’ll get better.”

He stops moving, and you can feel his eyes burning into your profile. Abruptly, he stands up, picking up the first aid kit, carrying it out of the room down the hallway.

You inhale sharply as you remember the unattended front door. As you saw when you were ushered into the foyer, you can’t be more than a dozen steps away from it. There are creaks at the back of the house as he rummages around for something.

He might not notice. How much of a head start could I get?

Before you can think twice, you clamor to your feet and turn around, taking a step towards the screen door. Your bare feet are silent as you take another quick step.

Then another. A few more. Each step gives you a fresh surge of adrenaline.

Two steps away.

One more. You’re so close.

When your fingers touch the door handle, a creak sounds from directly behind you, and you hear the metallic click of the safety being pulled back on a revolver. You freeze.

“If you move, I’ll shoot you right in the fuckin’ skull,” Dan growls from behind you, burying the barrel in your hair. The cold metal circle presses flush against your bruised scalp. Your heart thuds in your chest and your field of vision goes white with panic.

He speaks quiet and calm as he instructs you, “Put your hands up.”

You comply, extremities breaking out in tremors as you slowly raise both arms at your sides. One of his hands encloses your wrist.

“Unfucking believable,” he grunts as he puts the safety back on the handgun and the cold circle of death is pulled away from your head. He brings your hands down behind your back, securing them in place with a zip tie, making you wince as the plastic digs into your fresh bandages. You can’t decide if this is an upgrade from the rope or just a different kind of hell on earth.

“Do you have to use the bathroom?” he asks as he turns you around to face him. It was a mistake to try escaping. His features are shadowed again, steeped with fury.

You ponder his question briefly, taking inventory of bodily functions you’d been completely neglecting to monitor, then shake your head.

With this, he yanks on your arm, leading you back to the closet. When he opens the door, you step inside obediently. He closes it. Your legs shake when you try to squat down into a sitting position, and you end up toppling over backwards against the wall behind you.

With a groan, you shimmy your ass to the floor and accept this as your seat. You stare at the slit of light shining under the door. Thoughts bounce around your brain like it’s a pinball machine.

“Did you love him?”

You wonder whose blood was on Dan yesterday. The red stains on his skin and hair. Was it even blood?

“Well that was pretty fucking stupid, wasn’t it?”

You wonder if there’s anyone searching for you. If Claudia or your parents know you’ve been kidnapped. If your parents would even care.

Something tickles your face.

Probably a spider.

You wonder what the odds of surviving a black widow bite are.

A shudder runs down your spine as you remember the cold circle of a revolver pressed against your bruised scalp.

You wonder what the odds are of surviving a kidnapping are.

Probably about the same as a black widow bite.

Your thoughts take a sharp turn, and you remember that it’s Friday, then wonder when The X-Files will start airing on Friday nights again.

Will I ever find out what happened to Agent Fox Mulder’s sister? Will he and Scully ever kiss?

This summer, you wanted to see The X-Files movie, but it came out the same day as The Truman Show, which you wanted to see more.

What if, instead of spiraling into an existential crisis while teetering between tipsy and drunk from giant margaritas, you gabbed Javier’s ear off about the possibility of extraterrestrials?

He might not have witnessed you bearing your soul, spilling your guts across the table in front of him (I don’t want to have to gut you, too ) as you came to the realization that being with him was the first thing you did for yourself in a very long time. Would you have come to that conclusion if the two of you had seen a different movie?

In his car two weeks prior, he talked about how, back in 1993, he didn’t like to be around Michelle other than “the fucking, yeah. Not like you…“

“What do you mean not like me?”

“I like being around you.”

“I like being around you, too.”

And it’s clear to you then, that it doesn’t matter what movie you saw, or where you went, because it would have resulted in your breath on his, hot and pleading for him to fuck you. You could have done anything in life, and you would have ended up tangled together in bed, Javier playing with your hair as you write love notes onto his skin.

It’s kismet.

This thought brings you enough peace that the erratic pinball that is your stream of consciousness settles into a lull, and you close your eyes. Maybe just a little nap. It’s not like you have anything better to do.

—

The sound of the hardwood floor creaking outside the door wakes you.

You blink a few times before coming to grips with your surroundings, realizing you’re propped up in the corner of the closet, settling into the dust and spiderwebs. The door groans open, spilling sunshine into your enclosure, and you hum with relief as the (relatively) cool air hits your sweat-drenched skin. You’re groggy and delirious when Dan asks, “Do you have to use the bathroom?”

You take a bodily inventory and determine that: yes, for the first time in probably 24 hours, you have to pee.

When you nod, Dan hoists you up and folds you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, then starts carrying you down the hallway in a direction you haven’t been yet. Your head is spinning, dazed, like you’re in a dream.

He comes to a stop and lowers your feet to the ground. You think he does, anyway.

Your feet are numb phantoms, but you’re upright and semi-stable. The muscles you can feel scream in protest. You roll your head on your shoulders to squint and find Dan’s face, and when you do, he has a mask on again. Neutral as he guides you backwards through the threshold of a room, until the backs of your knees press up against cold porcelain.

He lowers you down onto a toilet seat, then pulls your shorts down until they meet the zip tie at your ankles. The big, shiny, red button gifted to you from the crows slips out of your pocket and clatters onto the ground.

You swear you can hear cawing.

Your face falls and you frown, voice coming out in croaks like your vocal chords are shards of glass, “Oh no, I didn’t feed the crows today.”

He says nothing.

You expect him to leave, or at least fucking turn around to give you some privacy, but he kneels down in front of you, one hand helping keep you steady as you weave back and forth, pulled by the weight of your spinning head. It’s not until your body releases a stream of piss you realize his other hand is in the toilet bowl.

He’s giving me a pregnancy test.

Not able to emote yourself properly in your delirium, you scrunch your face up and shake your head, asking with curiosity in a hoarse whisper, “Why?”

“You’re not fucking leaving here until I know whether or not you’ve been knocked up,” he growls.

That’s gonna be a problem.

—

Middle of Fucking Nowhere, Laredo, TX July 31, 1998

Someone broke the news of your disappearance to the media. Probably some fucking blabbermouth. Javier knows it’s bad when he finds himself pushing his way through throngs of people as they gather around the established perimeter.

As he reaches the blaring yellow crime scene tape, he scans the area for Detective Anderson. A petite blonde woman in a neat, fitted pantsuit widens her eyes as she spots him walking up beside her, then lays her hand on his forearm as she asks, “Excuse me, are you Javier Peña?”

This catches him by surprise.

He turns to face her and takes a step back, surveying her short stature as he answers, “Yes.”

He shouldn’t have answered.

“Do you have anything to say about the photos of you and the missing woman?” she questions, pulling a pen and a pocket notebook out of her smart navy blazer.

“No,” he snaps as he turns away to face the blocked off crime scene. He picks out Detective Anderson standing at the back of a cop car, hovering over a map, marking things off with a dull pencil as he talks to a few other law enforcement officials.

“Do you feel responsible for her abduction?” the woman questions next. Javi can feel the heat rising to his head.

The fucking balls on these people.

He steps over the crime scene tape and approaches Detective Anderson. Greg follows his lead, holding the list of empty properties under his damp armpit, while Claudia stays behind the barrier to shoot daggers at the blonde news reporter.

The Webb County Sheriff looks up from the map and nods at Javi. Anderson follows his gaze, then waves Javi and Greg over. They make room around the map for the newcomers.

“Sorry about the circus,” Anderson grumbles sideways to Javi, then clears his throat, “No blood in the car as far as we can tell, so we’re working under the assumption that she’s still alive. Organizing a search of these areas here,” he taps the eraser of his pencil to the areas circled on the map.

He starts dictating specifics about who he wants where, and the men nod as they listen along diligently.

Greg looks over the map, then flips through his papers, cross-examining the two documents. He prods the map in two specific areas with his sausage fingers, explaining, “We searched the empty properties here earlier today and didn’t find anything,” then points to two other spots, “These two haven’t been cleared yet, we can go check 'em out if y’all haven’t already.”

“Fine by me,” Anderson nods, which surprises Javier.

With this, Greg and Javi double back towards Greg’s truck. Anderson catches up with them, tapping Javi on the shoulder. Javi stops and turns to the detective, who instructs, “If you find anything, call right away and we’ll be there in a jiffy. Especially if you find the suspect. Don’t confront him. We don’t want any bloodshed.”

Javi’s mouth forms a flat line and he nods, “You got it.”

He doesn't mean it.

—

The two properties in question are on the same country road, about a mile away from each other and where Dan’s car was abandoned, forming an equilateral triangle on the map. Greg parks at the mid-point of the subject properties at Javier’s suggestion to approach with stealth, not come roaring down the driveway in a pickup truck. He wants to get you out alive. If you're not already dead.

“No blood in the car as far as we can tell, so we’re working under the assumption that she’s still alive.”

There’s hope. He’s been tortured by the unknown for the past 26 hours. The notion that he spent a decade avoiding serious relationships while in Columbia, only to come home, fall in love, and have her ripped away, is driving him fucking mad.

Javier’s hands shake as he lights a cigarette and their ragtag search party of 3 starts off towards the first house. The gravel road crunches and stirs dust up under their steps. He wipes beads of sweat off his forehead with back of his hand and grimaces at the sun that’s beating down on them.

Claudia glances to the cigarette clamped between Javi’s index and middle finger, “Can I have one?”

“I didn’t know you smoked,” he comments as he digs the pack out of his back pocket and holds it out to her. She plucks one out and presses it between her lips. Javi flicks his shiny silver butane lighter ablaze, holding fire to the end of the cigarette.

She inhales deeply, then exhales a plume of blue smoke, “I quit when I was pregnant with Michael, but my nerves are fucking shot. I need it.”

Javi nods in understanding, taking a drag, then tells Claudia, “I tried quitting a few years ago, but I couldn’t stick to it.”

“It’s fucking hard. If I didn’t have that motivation, I’d probably still be a pack-a-day smoker,” she scoffs.

“I think I’m going to try to quit again,” Javi announces.

“Yeah?”

“With the baby and all. I don’t want this shit around the kid,” he tilts his head and considers something he never had previously, “Plus, I should probably try to stick around for them as long as I can. Don’t want lung cancer to take me out at 50.”

A toothy grin spreads across Claudia’s face and she nods, “How are you feeling about it? Being a dad?”

The acid that was previously at a simmer in his stomach shoots up in his throat at a full boil. He clears his throat to lessen the feeling, then admits, “Fucking terrified. What if I’m not… I don’t know, good at it?”

“I’ll let you in on a secret: Nobody knows what the fuck they’re doing when they become a parent,” Claudia chuckles, taking a puff off the cigarette, “You’ll do great, I know it.”

Javier takes a drag off his cigarette. His eyebrows press together as he asks her, “How do you know?”

“Javi, look at what we’re doing right now. All you’ve done in the past day,” Claudia gives him a reassuring smile, “There’s nothing you won’t do to make sure your family is safe.”

Although he doesn’t point out that it was his own ignorance that put you in danger in the first place, he supposes she’s right. You’re part of his family, and he won’t find peace until you’re home with him.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, and one corner of his mouth upturns.

—

The first house was a bust.

While they did find approximately 17 feral cats in the barn, there were no humans in sight. The search party is silent on their route to the second house. Claudia and Greg shoot concerned glances back and forth, eyeing Javi from behind as he blazes ahead of them.

Javier ignores the fatigue settling in his bones and the burning in his calves as he quickens his pace. There’s a decent chance you’re at this next place. He remembers what you looked like in his dream. Beaten to shit.

What if you’re not there? Or worse, what if he’s too late? Would he be able to live with that guilt?

When the 8734 mailbox comes into view, he goes from a brisk walk to a jog. The driveway is long, winding back from the road a quarter of a mile, Javi estimates. Claudia and Greg catch up to him when he stops and crouches down upon hearing crows cawing. He thinks he sees a pair of fat, black bird loitering in front of the run-down rambler.

“She’s here,” he tells them, squinting up at the home, once again cursing himself for not seeing a fucking optometrist.

Greg crouches down further, “Do you see them?”

“No,” answers Javier as he pulls out his pistol to verify it’s locked and loaded, “Crows.”

While Claudia nods knowingly, Greg tilts his head and furrows his brow, “Crows?”

“Just trust me,” Javi sighs, then looks between Claudia and Greg, “Ready?”

—

Dan pulls you to your feet and steadies you against the sink as he tugs your shorts up over your thighs, sticky with sweat and streaked with dirt. He doesn’t button them, just shimmies them up to your waist and then hoists your dead weight over his shoulder again, carrying you into the adjoining room.

Without warning, he tosses you onto the floor like a rag doll.

Your back hits the dusty hardwood floor and the wind is knocked out of you. The ceiling is spinning above you. You’re gulping for air like a fish out of water, only able to rock from side to side as you try to curl into a protective ball and suck in air at the same time.

Your clamp your eyes shut and spin in the darkness.

When you open them, he’s standing over you, head spiraling like you’re being flushed down a toilet drain. He pulls you up to your knees by the zip tie around your wrists, and you don’t even feel it cutting into your swollen hands. The spinning slows and you’re able to take a broken breath in, out, slowly, his face centers and stills in your vision.

“You fucking bitch. I would have given you everything ,” his eyes bore into you, darker by the second, and you meet his stare with your own, trying to muster the illusion of bravery. He holds his hands to your shoulders to ensure you don’t topple over.

Then they come up to your throat.

As you realize what he’s doing, you scream and try to get away, only falling backwards for a moment before he catches you, spindly fingers wrapping around your neck. He squeezes down and holds you suspended. You wheeze when you try to breathe around his grip. A smile creeps across his stone face and he clamps harder.

Panic.

Telling you he loved you in the park. Making out in the photo booth.

Can’t breathe.

Hand resting on your bare leg, fingers drawing sweet nothings onto your skin. Playing with your hair.

No noises, no airflow.

Kissing your knotted wrist that was once a gaping wound.

You try in vain to rip yourself away.

Can’t move.

His lips against yours. Silky dark hair your fingers comb through. The slope of his nose. Dimpled smile. Bedsheets that smell like the love of your life. Puppy dog eyes.

Buzzing in your ears.

“I hear you, cariño.”

Sizzling. Ringing. Popping.

In a tunnel, all you can see so far away, surrounded by black.

Flashes of people you love: Grandma, brothers, Claudia, Javier. Jellybean.

Energy drains from your body and you feel your eyes start to flutter shut, even though you can’t see anything anyway.

-BANG-

You fall onto the ground, collapsing in a heap, gasping for air. Choking. Coughing. Your arm is wet and sticky and scarlet.

It’s blood.

You search frantically for its source, then see Dan.

He’s laying the floor, staring at you. You’re gasping for air, heartbeat exploding in your chest, trying to kick yourself away from him and the impossibly dark red circle expanding around him.

His blonde hair is a gushing, black, viscous spring. A waterfall of it spills down across his face. Pooling the darkest red in his mouth, gaping wide. Streaming over his open, vacant eyes. Not vacant like they were before.

No, this time, they’re vacant as in dead.

You scream but it’s silent and sets your throat on fire.

Just the whistle-high pitch like a teakettle that’s almost ready to pour. Then there are hands on your body, pulling you away from the pool of blood. You buck away from the contact in a frenzy of confusion.

The grip anchors in your shoulders and shakes you.

Your whole body goes numb and your ears start ringing. Because you see him then.

He’s wearing a gray polo shirt, hair wild and flying in all different directions, just like the last time you saw him. It feels like a lifetime ago. Dashingly handsome, looking more terrified than you’ve ever seen him.

Javi. Holy shit it’s him.

Your ears come out of the tunnel and tune into earth, and you hear him saying your name, mumbling, “Baby it’s ok, I’m here, I’m here, I got you, it’s ok.”

Someone else cuts the zip ties on your wrists and ankles, and you throw your arms around him weakly. He pulls you in, burying his face in your neck, hugging around your chest so tight, you start to cough again.

“Fuck, sorry,” he gasps, then he lowers to the floor and pulls you onto his lap, stroking your dirty, blood-soaked hair. Your body wracks with sobs when it dawns on you that this is real.

It’s real. He’s here. He’s alive. You’re alive.

He cradles you in his arms and yells at Greg to call an ambulance. You inhale the musk of his sweat and curl into him as your body heaves. His lips on your forehead, promising, “You’re ok, you’re safe now.”

[ Next Chapter ]

[jolapeno]

Hey there, I truly admire your openness about your anxiety, and I was wondering if you could offer any tips or techniques that have helped you, especially in the context of being active on this platform. Love your work!

tw: anxiety

hi anon! thank you so much, that's really nice of you. i deffo think i could be more open about it, but it's nice that I've been able to be open enough for you to reach out. i'm sorry it took me a day or two to get back to you, i just wanted to make sure i thought up/over things so i was being as helpful as possible! it's important for me to stress that my situation and my anxiety isn't going to be like everyone else's, and how i cope with it isn't like the "go to". but here are some things that help me (i am not claiming that any of these i came up):

creating a rainy day folder: bad days are a thing for everyone, but i know what things put me in a "stormier" frame of mind, and what i'm critical about. so, when things make me smile (comments, nice reblogs, tags, inbox, dms) i screenshot them and pop them in this folder. and when i need an extra boost (or some proof to fire back at my brain that it's wrong) i spend a bit of time in there. as it's me, it's highly organised HA! but, it deffo helps having the folder, and its reminded me, at times, why i love what i do here.

celebrate with cake: i'm a high-functioning person, who has super low self-esteem. for a good portion of my life (an embarrassingly large portion, honestly) good accomplishments were not celebrated. so, now i make a point to celebrate certain things with food (or books, if I'm reading a lot). one thing I've learnt with my anxiety is that it's easy to get into a cycle, and one way of breaking this is to stop and take the time to realise the milestones I've accomplished or how far I've come. just the other day, i took a walk to the shop and grabbed myself a chocolate bar. a year ago, i wouldn't have felt comfortable doing that by myself. and it's important to recognise those achievements when you've had a hard time. i also recommend everyone gets themselves cake when they finish a series (it's the rules, i swear).

learn about yourself: i'm going to be brutally honest and hope this doesn't bite me on the arse, but there are a lot of times i don't really like myself? i don't see the value i offer, i feel like i let people down, etc etc. it used to be worse, and one of the ways that helped me go from every day i didn't like myself to occasionally disliked myself, is by educating myself on me. I've spent a lot of time making myself small to fit in, I've done things others are into so i fit in to the point i wasn't sure who i was. so, when i had a menty-b (the name i call it), i sat with myself and learnt what i liked. music. movies. clothing. passions. hobbies. i have always written, but i wasn't necessarily writing things i loved. so, i changed it. i dated myself (a term lots of people use). i told my husband i was going to spend Friday nights with myself, and i did something i wanted to do. on my own. and in time, that helped with my anxious feelings and my fears about being online. because i spend a lot of time worrying about what people think, but by dating myself i could learn nice things about me - and that way, had things i could tell myself i knew were true: that i'm actually very nice, kind and really funny. it might not making pressing 'post" easier, but i can hold my chin a little higher?

set yourself a goal of happiness: we're all motivated by different things. sometimes, we make a mental goal to ourselves and it becomes blurred and distorted in numbers. but, if your anxiety (like mine) likes to have a thing to measure itself against, choose something that isn't numbers based, but happiness based. did someone tell you this month that your writing/art/gifs made their day? did something you say make them feel better? it's hard, it really is, and i know there will be people reading this and scoffing, but truthfully, one person telling me something i wrote made their day is all a jo really fucking wants. because i'm going to write regardless, it's a choice i make to share it. so, while i gave examples above, that isn't my current goal, but it was a goal i had, and as long as i try to remind myself of that it helps.

which leads me into, try to stay away from the numbers game which i know is hard. but it does nothing for an anxious mind. like, it's a fickle thing. moods change. don't base your worth on a number, you matter far more than it.

accept it's a part of you: this one is more about me, but since you're asking me i thought this is probably allowed. i have a long-term anxiety disorder - which took a long time to get diagnosed - and i have some other little... things that come with that. and for a long time, i felt broken. but, i was reading a self-help book (because your girl loves reading books about brains) and i realised that i have anxiety. it is already part of me. so i need to work with it. anxiety isn\t nice, it's not kind and it's really annoying. but it also makes me empathetic, it makes me care about the work i do (both here and in my day to day life), or makes me compassionate. whether you have it short term or long term, sometimes it's better to accept it's there, acknowledge it, but DON'T FEED IT. have the worries, and then halt them, tell them no. I've found fighting it before I've got the strength doesn't help me. but, waking up, knowing it's there, nodding at it helps keep it in check. this might not make any sense, but, you know.

and finally, the one i'm still working on is: i cannot fix everything and this is fun, so i need to ensure it stays that way for me. which i know isn't really a tip. but it's a good thing to remember. i am one person, it is not on me to check on every single person. it isn't on me to read every single thing. i don't have to engage with things i don't agree with, i don't have to say all my opinions. i can change fandoms. i can not post for a day/week/month. and all i have to do, if i want to, is offer my absolute best. that's it. it's hard. and it's tough to swallow. but sometimes, a jo just needs to be jo.

i am not sure if my rambling has been helpful, but i thought i could list these: plot your fic, find a buddy to talk about things with, surround yourself with good people. but I've said all of these. but the above are things i can do by myself. they are things i can control. and with anxiety, we're all just looking for the things we can manage, and so i based the list in that way. thank you for coming to my jo-talk, i'm going to go hide from being so vulnerable.

[blackberrysummerblog]

For WIP Wednesday I thought I’d post a scene from a Snowbaz AU I’ve been writing where the Crucible marries mages rather than assigning roommates. Simon and Baz are 20 and were surprise!married by the Crucible a short while before this snippet is set. Baz has been trying to keep an emotional distance because he still believes he and the Mage’s Heir are meant to kill each other, but he’s not managing it so well, as can be seen here when Simon tries to sneak an illicit midnight snack :P

Simon

I spy the butter and have it out before I even know what I’m thinking. In the group homes I used to spoon great mounds of it into my mouth whenever I was the first one down to breakfast and there was no one to see me embarrassing myself; I’m never the first one awake in the House of Pitch, but now it’s late and there’s no one in the kitchen. Working fast, I peel back the foil and take an enormous bite. It’s heaven: relief floods through me as tension I didn’t know I’d been carrying releases. Baz’s family has the best-tasting butter ever.

I jump at the loud groan behind me. “Please tell me you’re sleepwalking, Snow,” Baz says from across the kitchen, and I hastily shove the butter back on its shelf, my cheeks burning. There’s going to be teeth prints in it for sure; maybe I can sneak back down and slice off the ruined bit before his family finds out. There’s no way I’m here only a week and don’t get blamed for the sudden appearance of bite marks in the butter—come to that, I wouldn’t put it past Baz’s father to obtain my dental records if I denied it.

Baz shoulders me away from the still open refrigerator and takes the butter out; I want to die. Maybe I should pretend I was sleepwalking. “Baz, I—”

He shakes his head at me and steps over to the counter, slicing away the bitten chunk with a knife. Wordlessly, he holds it out, waving his hand at me when I hesitate. “Snow,” he says softly, no trace of accusation in his voice.

“I know I’m revolting,” I mutter, humiliation scalding my face and down my neck to my chest. Baz wags his hand again and when I step nearer him, he holds the piece of butter to my lips.

“Have it,” he says. “Do you think you’d like some toast? I was going to make myself a piece anyway.”

I take the butter but don’t put it in my mouth. “Baz.”

“What?” He’s opening a loaf of bread and taking out two slices. He glances up at me, but when I don’t say anything, he turns to the toaster. I hastily shove the pat of butter into my cheek and wipe my fingers against my pajama bottoms. I can’t help staring at Baz’s back. Even tired and mussed from sleep, he’s a sight to behold. He doesn’t belong with a mess like me.

“I’m sorry about the butter,” I say when he turns back to face me.

Baz winces. “Don’t apologize to me for what you like to eat, Simon,” he says. He looks almost pained.

“You don’t think it’s disgusting?”

Suddenly, his expression shifts. “Taking on a block of butter as though it were a chocolate bar, Snow?—it’s absolutely shocking. But you,”—Baz grabs me by the waist and sweeps me up onto the counter, how is he this strong—“are absolutely adorable.” He kisses the tip of my nose.

“Baz!” Bracing my hand against his chest, I push him back to look properly into his face. He’s laughing, and Merlin, he’s gorgeous. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.” His hands curl around my jaw, thumbs tracing slow, small circles against the side of my face. “Snow, when we’re old and fat and have troublingly high cholesterol levels, I’ll worry about your butter-snarfing habits. Right now you can eat a block a day and I’ll fight anyone who gives you guff about it, all right?”

The toast pops. Baz spreads a thick layer of butter over each piece and hands me one, a little smile playing around his mouth as I take a huge bite. “I told you I grew up in group homes,” I say while chewing, watching Baz nibble the corner of his toast. He nods. “You’d never make it taking your time like that,” I add, shoveling the rest of my toast into my mouth.

“Had to be fast, did you?” Baz breaks his toast in the middle and hands me half.

“There just wasn’t ever enough, really. Definitely nothing nice like what we got at Watford, or like you have here.”

Baz tilts his head and breaks his toast in two again when I finish. He passes me half of his half. “What we have here. It’s yours now, too, Snow-Pitch.”

I stuff the toast in my mouth and wave my hand as he breaks his piece again. “Don’t. I’ve eaten all your toast.”

“You can always eat all my toast.” Smiling, Baz pushes the piece into my hand and pops the last remaining crumbs into his mouth. “Do you want any more?”

I shake my head slowly. I hadn’t expected him to understand about the homes, but he caught on right away. He’s smart—so smart, how would I ever have defeated him? (And what if I still have to try? I don’t want to, even if all of magic depended on it.)

“Come on, then,” Baz says, taking my hand and tugging me down onto my feet. He’s pressed against me, holding me pinned against the counter, and I risk skating my hands up along his sides. I wish...I don’t know what I wish. When I meet his eyes, he’s just looking at me. Seeing me. It’s a little terrifying.

Baz

He looks terrified. I back away reluctantly (I want to kiss him. He’ll taste like butter and toast and only everything I’ve ever wanted) and return the butter block to the fridge. There’s more than enough left for breakfast, and the children prefer clotted cream, anyway.

Snow is quiet on the way back upstairs, although he holds my hand as he leads the way. Maybe he’s embarrassed about showing me so much of himself. I turn an image over in my mind: the rolly, dirt-faced urchin I’d seen years ago in oversized hand-me-downs, staring at all the pastries he wanted and couldn’t have. I didn’t know what want looked like, then; how could I have?—no. I did know, but not in the same ways as Simon. I wanted my mother back, the grief so sharp and slicing on some days that I thought the vampires must have left their teeth in me. I wanted comfort, though Fiona tried hard to pick up the slack from my father, and later on there was Daphne, doing her best. And then I wanted Snow, an ache that still breaks me open and turns me in on myself almost constantly.

I didn’t want for the basics, though, and I was well-cared for. Simon was emotionally deprived, and had to worry about keeping body and soul together on top of it. I think about the butter, the sheer caloric heft of it; his body instinctively craved it to ensure he had enough fat and calories to survive, and now it’s a comfort, a coping mechanism. Does he need to cope, here? Does he feel alone?

“Simon,” I say outside our bedroom door, and he lets me cup his face in my hands. (I shouldn’t kiss him here; there’s never any telling where Mordelia is).

“Yeah?”

I don’t know. I never don’t know what to say, but I don’t know now. That’s what this tawny-skinned nightmare does to me. I kiss the mole just above his left eyebrow. “Nothing. Let’s get some sleep.”

Snow curls up in the middle of the bed, covers kicked off and one hand stretched out toward me. I trace around his fingers, touching the webbing of each and then stroking every one of his knuckles in turn. He makes a sound that might be my name, or nothing at all, just some little noise against the pillow, and I twine my fingers with his at last. Moments later, his heart rate slows and I hear him start to snore.

[dinomite2]

Oscar and Rose (Babies!)

For @sodapoppss ! This was number 2 BTW!

Ill do two scenarios for one the two of them suddenly being turned into infants one for Oscar and one for Rose

Also one more thing

(this Is legit the one thing I thought of when making this)

Oscar

Its was another crisp late Afternoon as usual For Oscar and Rose And ... uhhhhh i can't say things are the same now here...

Oscar: mammmyyy *raises and graspes hands*

Rose: Ooookaaaayyyyy what am I going to do with yoouu

*Rose starts to think of what to do with Oscar as a toddler*

Rose: hmmmm

*imagine it's moray towers instead*

.

.

.

Rose: *stares at Oscar briefly* *talking to herself* Nope Nope nope you're gooder that you're gooder than thatttt *clenchs fists* Wait where's Oscar? *Looks up* OSCAR WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?

Oscar: haaaabbbaabbbb *hanging on top of chandelier like monkey bars*

Rose: OSCAR GET THE F#$K DOWN FROM THERE RIGHT NOW

Oscar: Why

Rose: BECAUSE ITS NOT SAFE UP HERE

Oscar: Why

Rose: BECAUSE ITS TOO HIGH UP THERE NOW GET THE FUCK DOWN NOW

.

.

Oscar: whee! *Drops down on rose's hands*

Rose: *catches Oscar* ooof! Ok now don't do that ag- wait.... *sniff sniff*

EWWW-

(I'll let your mind go from here👍)

Rose

Oscar: What .....

Rose: Dadadaaaaa

Oscar: eh-uh-....Ok so we're going to do this one more time did you eat all of my large double chocolate cookies from my secret jar ?

Rose: *shakes head*

Oscar: Did you!? Cause I know from this point forward when you appeared AS A BABY, MY JAR WAS DAMN FULL

Rose: *Shakes head*

Oscar: you're better not be lying about this cuz I'm onto you *points near rose's head* I'm onto you like a Godamn-

Rose: *Bites Oscar's Finger*

Oscar: AH YOU LITTLE SHI- SHMMMM

Oscar: *breaths in* *breaths out*

.

.

.

.

Oscar:

Oscar: nope I'm better than that.....

Hope you enjoy! 👍

[shak3speara-shak3speara]

Error Sans! Reader X Transformers: Animated AU Part 3:

You wake up a few days later in a darkened room on a neat and comfortable bed. Your cranium aches severely, as do your ribs and abdominal region. Deciding to play it calm, you check your stats.

Semi-low HP and a few broken ribs, but more importantly, you're starving. No wonder you passed out.

You display a grumpy frown in irritation, before selecting a chocolate bar from your inventory and devouring it with your two ecto-tongues.

"Woah...!"

You snap your skull to the doorway of the room, allowing light to seep into the area. You are also now capable of seeing a window with dark turquoise curtains. The curtains shutter aside as the light burgundy haired child from your extraterrestrial encounter flicks a switch near the door. The room now overflows with light and you hiss, disgruntled by the severe tonation change.

The little girl bounces over to you excitedly with eyes of intrigue and animosity. "Was that your tongue? You looked like you had two! Why were they blue and glowy? Are you a skeleton? Why are you black-"

"K1d," you manage to spit out as you finish dissolving the melty bitter treat. "SHU-u-ut uP."

You're about to stand up from the bed when the girl waves her hands in front of you with protest, much closer then to your liking.

Your glitches flare up in a second of panic. You use your strings to push her at least six feet away to disregard her warnings. Getting back onto your feet, you stumble disoriented. Your nasal cavity heaves in a heavy gust of air, and you release the child. You reassign your strings to under your hoodie, making sure they wrap around the ribs that need straightening to be realigned and extensively healed.

You exhale with a few shaky wavers, skull tilting towards the ground as you digest the most recent events.

"Whe-E-3re aM 1?" You flatly ask the child as they slowly rise up from their unflattering fall onto their butt on the metal-coated floor.

"Um. You're in Sumdac Tower. In Detroit, Michigan." The girl replies, rubbing her butt with a slightly pained yet wary look. She plays with her own fingers as she says, "I'm Sari Sumdac. I wanted to thank you for saving my friend..." She looks away with pitiful guilty eyes and a sheepish frown.

You stare at her blanly before you sigh, retracting your strings with depleted energy. You walk over to the girl, twirling part of your scarf between your phalanges. You crouch down to be on eye level with her. "So-0-()-rry, SaRi." You say with a half genuine apologetic tone. "I ge-3-Et a b-1-it raTTled wh3n 1 w5ke \/p in plA-5-aces I don't kn)-()-ow well."

Sari perks up in small phases. She tells you she understands with a cheerful smile and optimistic attitude. She pauses, letting awkward silence flow around the room. A few more seconds later she nervously invites you to have breakfast with her and her dad.

You accept, although with some hesitance wondering if they wanted to try something on you. You're not going to be a lab rat to anyone. ...You also can't handle many foods without some other catalyst to help dissolve it, so you contemplate telling the thin child about it while she leads you throughout the halls of an enormous establishment.

You enter the kitchen and Sari tells you to stay put as she steals a cup of coffee being handled by a culinary-programmed robot. You shuffle on your seat, all while eyeing the robot with an unfriendly glare. You decide it wouldn't hurt to check it's code, and you restrain the thing after it sets down a plate of maple syrup-doused pancakes in front of you.

It has relatively simple coding, nothing you wouldn't be able to find in the original Underground. You huff with annoyance as you bite into the sugary morning food placed before you, wanting to choke at the sweetness, but having enough will to swallow it so you recover your energy.

Once you put release the robot from its binds, it offers to turn on the TV attached to a surface a few feet above its height. You nod, giving it an unimpressed stare as it stiffly walks over to a mini console and presses a button, rendering the TV online.

The robot goes back to preparing more breakfast. You watch the TV with steady sockets and a blank face as it displays a news channel. The red and blue robot... What was his name...? Optimus? You scoff at the replay of his proud heroics, rolling your eyes at him finally detaining the weird robin hood rip-off.

Suddenly, your glitches act up in a shivering intensity. What was that...? You open a screen to hack into the place's network. You note there has just been a spike in energy flowing into a certain secluded section of the tower.

You alter some of the internal system's protocols and erase your appearances on its security cameras before checking the cameras placed in what appears to be a personal labratory.

You interest has been piqued as you keep a solid gaze on the image of a robot head and a single unattached hand prodding up from its place stuck in the ground. The head is partly taken apart with one 'eye' seeming to be a monacle, but mimics the structure of the other robot, Optimus. Both eyes glow red.

Wow, so creepy. You internally sass as his eyes focus on a computer screen positioned in front of his view. You are delightfully surprised to see he has the ability to hack the piece of equipment.

It may serve as a good puppet~

The gun metal grey head turns the computer on to show a video of the several robots you've seen prior, and another one.

The other robot appears to have aerial capabilities, and one ginormous ego as well. He even boasts about killing someone named Megatron. You don't need to take a hint to figure out that the robot hauled up inside the restricted area is the one the magenta flier was so giddy about exterminating. Especially after the robot emits an electrical charge that raises to the ceiling and disrupts the connection of several cameras, including yours.

You flinch with a twitching socket. Nonetheless, you don a toothy intrigued grin with your yellow teeth exposed. You finish your meal and boredly wait for Sari and her dad to eat theirs after they arrive.

You refuse to answer most questions Sari's dad, 'Professor Isaac Sumdac' asks you, instead either deflecting the entire conversation or switching it to be a discussion about his accomplishments and robotic empire.

Despite your want to ditch the place entirely, you know Sari has a connection with the giant robots. You know you can exploit that connection to get yourself home. You just need to exhibit... Patience.

You put on a sickeningly sad expression and do your best to pretend to be a nice person. You act as if you were recently involved in some science experiment. Unfortunately, you ended up being stripped into a skeleton through some unforeseen circumstance. You also ended up being kicked out of your apartment once your landlord saw a glimpse of you, meaning you don't have anywhere to stay.

Just like you suspected, Isaac and Sari take disgusting pity on you and offer to accommodate you as long as you need. Of course, you accept. It's not like you'll be staying around for very long anyways. You just need to have a chat with Sari's alien robot friends, steal some Sumdac technology, and rebuild the machine that got you here from scrap.

Some times passes and you find yourself laying in a blanket you crocheted, playing solo cat's cradle as Sari receives schooling from a tutorbot. The robot is talking about a quadratic formula when Sari interrupts it, seemingly conversing with someone on her phone. You note with squinting eyes the tutorbot tries to confiscate the key hung around her neck. It ultimately fails, resulting in Sari thrusting the key into the tutorbot and making it fizzle out of programmed control.

You use your strings to tie up the robot, sending Sari a questioning look as your sockets flicker to her key. You felt the same energy as the past three incidents exude from the key. It has this... Ethereal aura to it as well. You figure this isn't some normal key... Maybe it brought the robot in the secret lab to life?

Isaac makes a video call to check on Sari, asking whether she's tinkered with his stuff. She denies this, with tutorbot comedically stating a few greeting and dismissing class lines. She tries to hide her mischievous doings by giving her dad the excuse she's been helping her friends, 'The Autobots' settle into their secret base. You grip above your nasal cavity with your knuckles, shaking your skull at the pinging thought of how Alphys and Undyne would have a smooch session to see these giant anime-esque robots.

Sari soon shuts off the FaceTime and grabs her backpack in the corner of the room, bringing it to near the table. You open a processing screen and hack the tutorbot's internal functions and revert it back to its proper programming, then switch it off and set it down haphazardly on a swivel chair.

Sari shows you an amazed expression and resumes asking rapid fire questions about what you can do from earlier. You sarcastically remark that she has a sleepover to get to and she brushes it off, asking you to attend too. She tells you the bots would love to meet you. You dryly laugh at her enthusiastic proposition, though consider it and accept it. You know you're not the most pleasant skeleton, nor the kindest person in your multiverse. It would be simply stupid to see you as such. But you want answers about the strange energy that all but surrounds the group of robots and the little girl, so you barely have a genuine choice.

You wait for Sari to pack one last thing into her bag and then leave the tower, walking towards a... Rundown warehouse? This is seriously their base of operations?

Isaac Sumdac is letting his child stay in this crumbling structure of shady businessman filth?

You suck in a sharp breath of air and let it flow through the spaces between your clenched teeth. Sari rushes inside the building while you stroll inside at a leisurely pace, once again tugging your scarf over your skull as far as it can go.

You follow Sari as she skips forward confidently, in contrast, you moderately creep forward with your skull lowered downwards.

Your glitches glare around your body as you listen to a nature documentary click into obnoxiously loud rock music.

The metallic vibrating high-pitched voice of the yellow car robot mockingly rings out,

"Why don't we watch something that won't bore us into stasis lock?"

Part 4 coming soon!

Error Sans was created by loverofpiggies

Transformers: Animated is owned by Hasbro

[sohemotional]

107

“Do you believe in ghosts?” 

Brittany had a white sheet over her head with two holes for her eyes and was shining a flashlight up into her face as she spoke in a “spooky” voice, waving her hands around. Rachel jumped back in alarm.

Rachel, Tina, Finn, Mercedes and Mike were all staring at the girl weirdly as she took out a Ouija board, placing it on the floor of her apartment on Halloween night. She pulled the sheet off of her head, grinning widely at her friends as she observed their panicked faces.

“B-Brittany are you sure that’s a good idea?” Her roommate, Tina stuttered.

“Yeah, relax, Guys. It’s totally fine. I play with it all the time when I’m bored and like, it doesn’t even work. Nothing happens.”

“What? All the time?! Brittany, you shouldn’t play with that thing!” Rachel yelped while Finn looked around awkwardly as the short, intense brunette grabbed his hand tightly. Her eyes darted around the room nervously as if expecting to find ghosts lurking in the shadows. “Don't you know what that is? There could be… demons in here now!” 

“Wait a minute. Brittany, what are you expecting it to do?“ Mike asked, raising an eyebrow. “When you play with the board, I mean.” 

Brittany took a bite of a mini chocolate bar. They were almost out of them, thanks to Finn, who had chocolate smeared all over his face. Rachel sighed as he grinned at her, not realizing he had melted chocolate all over him. 

“I dunno. Grant me three wishes?”

“That’s a genie, Brittany and you’ll get that with a magic lamp. You need a magic lamp for that,” Rachel intoned in flat voice, becoming more annoyed with her bimbo friend. “We’ve all seen Aladdin. Wait a minute, what am I saying? Magic isn’t real.”

“I dunno this thing just kinda sucks," Brittany shrugged, "Here, you try, Tina. You must know all about this stuff already.” 

“Whoa, whoa Britt, you know I’m all about the horror movie aesthetic but using an actual Ouija board is a little much, even for me, and these black candles you have are seriously adding to the creepy vibe. Not to mention it's literally Halloween night.”

“Fake goth.” Mike muttered sarcastically under his breath, earning a growl from his girlfriend as he pretended to be disappointed. “If you can’t even master Ouija boards, then when are you gonna move on to seances?”

“Hopefully never. You and Tina need to go to church. You too, Brittany. Especially you.” Mercedes declared as Rachel nodded beside them. 

“Look Tina, just move the pointy thingy around. It’s just like instant messaging but with a board game.”

“Oh hell to the no. I’m leaving!” Mercedes announced, making the sign of the cross with her fingers. Finn ran with her, giving a manly scream and Rachel took off after them, flabbergasted, as the planchette began to move on its own. Tina gasped, staring at it in awestruck silence. Mike was a little unnerved but he thought it would be too unmanly to run away.

“It’s spelling something!” Tina shouted in a mixture of fear and excitement. Lord Tubbington began yowling as the room felt colder.

“Yeah. It’s someone texting me through the board thingy again. I know all of them already and I guess they get lonely so they all wanna talk. One at a time please, Guys.” 

“Brittany?! They talk to you all the time?”

“Yeah, like it’s hard? I mean sometimes they give me the silent treatment but usually it’s getting them to shut up that’s the problem.”

“Oh my God, oh my God” Tina shrieked as the words “H-E-Y G-O-T-H" were spelt out, Mike reading out each of the letters helpfully as it moved to them quickly.

“Rude!” Tina gasped in outrage.

“H-A H-A H-A"

“Hello?” Brittany called out, as casually as if she was having a phone call with a friend. “Who are you?”

Your worst nightmare

“Oh yeah, you’re sooo mean and threatening” Brittany rolled her eyes while Tina screamed.

I am

The planchette started moving again but in slow, labored movements rather than the quick, erratic ones they had just seen. 

Not. Liar. 

Shut up

Go to hell

You first

“Oh my God the ghosts are arguing with each other!” Tina shouted. Brittany just tilted her head to the side, not really noticing a problem and she thought of something. 

“What are you wearing, Mean Ghost?” Brittany asked in boredom, laying on her back with her arms behind her head.

No sexting

“Why not? You sound cute.” Brittany gushed. 

The planchette quivered on the board as if the ghost was unsure of how to answer that one. The entire room shook as if they were having a mini earthquake for a few seconds and Tina screamed again, Mike eventually slapping his hand over her mouth and hushing her.

“Brittany, are you seriously flirting with a ghost?” Tina deadpanned after her panic had worn off a little.

“Why not?” The blonde shrugged, turning to the board again and speaking loudly. “Are you cute?” 

This time, the planchette leapt off of the board and the lights flickered a few times, making Tina jump into Mike’s arms. Then everything was still and the crazy energy seemed to vanish.

Brittany shrugged with a giggle. “I guess I must have scared them off.”

Brittany kept playing with the board whenever she had any free time and next time the friends sat around at the apartment, Artie, Brittany’s ex-boyfriend was with them.

“Hi Guys and girls! I wanna talk now so like, move the planchette okay.” Brittany ordered the imaginary people. Spirits. Whatever they were. 

H-I B-R-I-T-T The planchette spelled out.

“Hi, Hottie.” Brittany murmured seductively, causing her friends to raise their eyebrows.

"Oh wow, Brittany. I hope we're not interrupting anything here," Mike joked, "Maybe we need to give you two some time alone."

The entire board flipped upside down, the lights flickering like crazy and Brittany had a feeling this was the bashful, mean ghost she talked to before who freaked out and left after she called them cute. She set the board back up.

“Hi, Mr. Shy Guy.”

The board was still for a long moment.

“Wow, you’re pretty awkward.” 

Girl the planchette corrected, then Not shy 

“Oops, sorry. So like, what do you want to talk about?”

Artie leaned over, putting his arm around Brittany casually at some point. Out of nowhere, a force knocked his arm right off of her shoulders. Artie yelped, looking around the room in confusion as he tried to figure out what could have happened.

Ha ha ha

“Hey that was not funny… you, you demon! Brittany… I think you have a poltergeist… I’m going to leave.” Artie groaned. 

The planchette moved super fast again as Artie wheeled away at full speed.

“Don’t come back, Wheels.” 

“I think you have a jealous ghost, Brittany.” Tina giggled. 

___

Brittany tried to talk to the ghost again when she was alone. She had a feeling she would talk to her more openly when her friends weren’t around and she was right. 

“What’s your actual name?”

Santana

“How old are you?”

Twenty-five

“Me too.”

“Why are you here in this house?”

Lonely

“You can always talk to me, Santana.” 

You too 

A long pause.

You are the most beautiful girl

“You’re so romantic.” Brittany sighed. If she could date a ghost, she had a feeling this Santana would be her soulmate. Sometimes Brittany would hear a low, hazy voice singing a beautiful song, soothing her early in the morning or feel a gentle breeze, or a presence beside her when she was alone and her roommate, Tina was out.

She even woke up after feeling a pressure at the foot of her bed, a hand touching her arm to wake her up from a nightmare. She knew it was Santana. Brittany was never afraid of her. She kept calling for her to come back and she always did. Whenever she had a bad day, Santana would appear in some form and it would cheer her up.

---

Brittany gasped when she came home one day to find a ring of salt encircling the living room, along with some guy chanting from a book and Tina burning some sage. 

“No, no, Tina, what are you doing?!”

“I called an exorcist and got this stuff for good measure. Brittany, I’m sick of this ghost. She’s constantly hiding my shoes, she jumps out at me at random times and I swear I heard laughter when I was looking at myself in the mirror. She even laughs at my singing! She has got to go. All of the knocked over vases she does just to annoy me... If this doesn’t work, I’m calling Mike’s mom to ask her to do an ancient spell.”

“No wait, Tina, please don’t scare her off, she's just bored and lonely. I’ll talk to her!”

Brittany rushed to get out her Ouija board, locking herself in her bedroom and setting it out on the floor.

“Please come back, Santana.” Tears came to her eyes as she kept asking for the girl and didn’t get a response after a long time had passed. Just when Brittany had given up, the ghost appeared before her. 

Lord Tubbington began meowing at a high volume, moving around the apartment at a high speed she hadn’t seen him use in ages. Brittany gasped as an ethereal form appeared, translucent before her and a cold wind blew. She wasn’t afraid, just fascinated with what she saw. It was the form of a beautiful girl with black hair, high cheekbones and dark, deep eyes. She was the most stunning person Brittany had ever seen.

“Brittany, I’m here,” The ghost whispered in a soothing, low and raspy voice. Brittany would never forget her beautiful voice. “Don't cry."

“Santana? I thought you... I thought you were gone forever. That’s really you?”

The ghost nodded and leaned in close, kissing her. Brittany gasped, not expecting it but closed her eyes when she realized what the ghost was doing. She felt the slightest soft pressure against her lips and leaned into it. It felt as intimate as a kiss as it would have been if Santana was standing before her in the flesh.

"I love you, Brittany."

“I love you too. Please don’t ever leave me.” She whispered and felt a hand touch her face.

“I'll always protect you. I’ll never leave you alone.” 

When she opened her eyes, Santana was gone. She found her M&Ms re-arranged in a heart-shaped pattern and smiled.

[snootlestheangel]

For Bryn and Bailey:

What’s a hobby they would wanna try but haven’t for whatever reason?

Do they bite their tongue/inside of their mouth often?

What is their favorite frozen treat? (Snow cones, ice cream, popsicles, etc.)

What is their sleepwear like? (Nothing, t shirt shorts/pants, matching sets, etc.)

Pick two songs: one for the beginning of their story and one for the conclusion.

What is their worst nickname? What is their favorite?

Do they match their socks or just out whatever on?

If they had to turn into an animal what animal would it be?

What is their comfort movie/show?

How many blankets do they sleep with?

Do they have middle names? If so, do they hate them or like them? Would they not like being called by their middle name?

If they had a tumblr blog what would their username be and what would they blog about?

What is a part of you that you put into your oc?

What’s something you hope people notice about your oc?

Left, right, or ambidextrous?

What is something that inspires them?

Would they want a tattoo? If so, what would they get?

How do they feel about hats? (I have a vendetta against hats. They make my ears poke out.)

How is your character perceived by others? How true is that perception?

I hope these are okay. They were fun to think up! If it’s to many just pick and choose which ones you wanna answer!

And if this wasn’t enough I’ve got a longer list I use for my own ocs I can send!

Bryn would love to do jewelry making but she already works a lot with her hands and just doesn't have the time. Bailey would love to learn any instrument but her family never had the resources to let her learn. Don't worry, the second Nik and Price find out about this they're doing everything in their power to help her reach this.

Bryn doesn't chew on the inside of her mouth or anything, just mostly purses her lips. Bailey is constantly chewing on the inside of her mouth.

Bryn is a big fan of those fruit popsicles. Bailey loves most cold sweet treats, but her favorites are mint chocolate ice cream and Snickers ice cream bars.

Bryn often sleeps in shorts and a shirt, but sometimes just forgoes putting any bottoms on. Bailey is wearing those fuzzy themed pajama pants and old shirts that were hand-me-downs from her older sisters

I'm honestly gonna come back to the song thing. I can't think of any right now and I don't have the capacity for it atm. I really want to do it but I just can't get brain to do it

Bryn's worst nickname might be Cherub, which is a play on her callsign "Angel". Bailey's worst one is Bales, which is a play on shortening her name to Bailes, and then saying "hey" in front of it. So like, hay bales instead of "Hey, Bailes".

Bryn is chronically bad at never folding her socks and just picking whichever ones are close enough in style/shape to work. Bailey must have matching socks. She cannot function if she doesn't have matching socks.

Bryn might decide to be something like a horse or a deer. Something majestic in that area. Bailey would love to be a cat.

Bryn's comfort show is admittedly Friends. She knows its a bit overrated and stuff, but she still finds so much comfort in it. It always makes her laugh and it just feels good. Bailey's comfort movie is Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron, but secretly, her comfort show is Crashbox. She grew up watching it with her siblings at her grandparents' house and she just would cry if she got to watch it again. (if anyone knows what Crashbox is I am platonically kissing you rn)

Bryn does have a middle name: Alice. It's after her grandmother and let me just say, she'll kill you if you call her Alice. It's one thing most people don't know about her, even if they've known her for years. Bailey's middle name is Rene, and she's okay with it. She'd prefer if you didn't use it, as it's the same as her mother, and she just gets emotional hearing it.

Bryn's tumblr would be something like "guardianangelthings" and she would be a medical related things blog. Just kind of give a lot of medical tips, lots of advice for things, and then lots of stories about things she experiences as both a combat medic and a doctor. Bailey's tumblr would probably be "grayseesincolor" and it's a blog based solely on photos. She reblogs a lot of photos of animals of all kinds, nature, people being people. Sometimes she includes photos she's taken. The whole point is like "here are things that made me happy so I'm sharing it"

Bryn is my gentleness, my desire to help and care for others. Bailey got all my autistic traits.

I hope people notice that Bryn will squint her eyes when she smiles, exactly like I do (just putting everything into that smile, it's why I get complimented on my smile so much). For Bailey, I hope people notice that she's unashamedly autistic. Part of the reason I made her autistic like me is cause I want her to be living a life that isn't like mine, where she was never made to feel like she needed to "hide" the autism.

Bryn is a bit ambidextrous by having trained herself. She's a medic and in the military, so she felt the need to be able to do things with her nondominant hand. She's technically right handed. Bailey is very right handed.

Something that inspires Bryn is when she sees recovered patients and they can show off how far they've come. Bailey is inspired by the hard-working, dedicated people that suddenly surround her life (the 141 boys and Laswell).

Bryn would want small angel wings on her back. She thinks it'd be funny/cute. Bailey hasn't thought much about tattoos, and isn't sure she would ever want one.

Bryn is okay with hats, but she's still a bit particular. Bailey either loves hats or hates them and it literally depends solely on her mood.

Um idk? I think Bailey is perceived as precious and sweet and that is exactly how she should be perceived.