#chapter i the rotting world above

[ashleyfilm]

Seeing Clearly

Hi Everyone, this is my first fan fiction. I love Joel Miller and Pedro and I just wanted to write something about him/them. I was inspired by the many many many fantastic fics I've read and all their writers. You all are amazing. I don't know what I'm doing so, if I do something wrong, please let me know and I'll adjust. Please leave comments, I'd love to know your thoughts. And if you feel inclined to reblog, that would be so nice.

Chapter Warnings: violence, cursing, gore, blood. (There Will Be Smut, eventually) Minors - DNI

Characters: Jackson!Joel Miller x F!Reader Plus Size. I will give her some physical descriptions because she is me for this one but I've taken to writing her and You (Reader) so hopefully you can still imagine yourself. Black hair, glasses, tattoos, big body, wears dark clothes, won't stop talking, a little annoying. Joel is tv show Jackson Joel.

Story Summary: Joel just saved your life, begrudgingly. He doesn't know exactly why but he brings you back to Jackson and you ingratiate yourself into his very small circle and his life. This takes place after season 1 of TLOU and season 2 doesn't exist in my brain because no.

Chapter Summary: Joel saves your life and takes you back to Jackson.

Chapter 1: Him.

It all happens so fast. You step on that fallen fucking branch and it snaps. It feels so loud in the eerie quiet of the forest, like an explosion. Your heart almost burst in your chest, and the clicker you were hiding from, praying would pass you by, turns on the stumps left of its heels and comes towards you. Its limbs flailing, but at a speed that seems impossible. Next, you’re on the ground, pushing the things’ rotting neck and shoulders as hard as you can to keep its snapping jaws from your face, when suddenly, with the sound of a shot, the head splinters, and bloody debris falls onto the skin of your face as the clicker’s strength weakens and its weight falls against you.

Your brain can’t catch up with what is happening as the corpse is lifted off you and the sound of a man’s voice starts to come through as if you’re hearing it under water. “ANSWER ME!” You finally make out the words, “WERE YOU BIT?” You find your voice, shaky but still strong, matching the man’s intensity, “I DON’T KNOW.” You hear him sigh, almost as if he’s irritated rather than fearful. You still can’t see him clearly, the viscera of brain matter from the clicker being shot above you still blurring your vision, along with the loss of your black framed glasses that helped you see, even if the prescription wasn’t exactly right. Damnit, where are they now? You wipe your face as best you can and move your mass of black hair streaked with gray out of the way as the man, who you can now see is large, broad shouldered, only being able to make out his shape without your glasses. He grabs at your collar and moves your head from side to side to check your face and neck, and then pulls you up to a standing position. You’re weak on your legs after the, let’s face it, near fucking death experience you just had, and reach out to the man, grabbing his hand for balance, after you seem steady and not a second before, he pulls his hand back and squeezes his fist like you burned him. Okay, man, just trying not to fall over again.

“Roll up your sleeves and show me your hands and arms, both sides. NOW!” You do just that. His brow furrows at the site of the tattoos covering your arms, like he’s wondering how you got them all, and trying to figure out if it was before the world ended, or after. How old you would have been, and if you could have gotten them all before. You can see the gears turning, then it seems he finally deems you unbitten and therefore not an immediate threat, but certainly not safe. “What are you doing out here alone, where are your people?” He says while looking around him, checking his six or whatever the fuck, you wonder if he was in the military or something, he seems like a soldier but also like maybe the Jason Borne kind. You never got to see the sequel they announced before it all happened, sequels usually sucked anyway. God, you miss movies.

“What is wrong with you, kid, you got brain damage? Answer my questions,” the man says, still more irritated with you than anything else. Kid? You’re fucking 40. Whatever. “Um, no brain damage that I know of, but I have a theory that I had an undiagnosed concussion as a teenager, um, but I’m out here trying to not get eaten by clickers, or raiders, or murdered, or worse and trying not to starve. Also, no people. I have no people.” You ramble quickly and the man sighs, AGAIN. You look down and see a rough black outline in the grass below and- “Oh, thank fuck.”

You reach down, clean them off on the part of your black long sleeved shirt that doesn’t have blood or clicker gunk on it and put them on with a long sigh of relief, “Do you know how hard it was to find glasses that actually helped me see and hold onto them and not break them in this shit show of an existence…” another sigh of relief as you open your eyes to finally look at the man who saved your life and already seems like he wants to take it back from you and Holy shit. He’s hot, there’s no other way to put it. He’s the hottest person you’ve ever seen on planet earth, and you’ve just ran your goddamn smart mouth like a fucking moron this entire time. Without the decency to be quiet and nervous in front of, again, THE HOTTEST PERSON YOU HAVE EVER SEEN. You choke on your own thoughts and wide-eyed look into his eyes, they’re chocolate brown and filled with life and emotion, he’s gruff and scary but his eyes…god, they betray him. His hair is just below his ears, curled and brown with slices of gray throughout. His face is worn, scarred, like he’s been through shit, you know because you have too. His nose is like a roman god’s, aquiline and fucking beautiful. He’s got a patchy beard the same two colors as his curly hair and his lips are full and pouty with a mustache and you wonder how it would scratch if he put his mouth on your neck. Wait, what the fuck. I mean he’s hot but instantly thinking of him kissing your neck… relax bitch.

He clears his throat, looking at you like you have two heads and sighs. He really likes to sigh. Then he finally speaks in a stern but soft voice, “Okay, look, don’t know why, but I believe you when you say you’re alone, your eyes look like you haven’t eaten in a few days, that true?” You nod and he seems relieved that you don’t start speaking again, so you stick with it and stay silent. His southern drawl continues, “I come from a community. If you want, I’ll take ya there. Food, shelter, medical. You gotta contribute and you gotta behave. Might want to watch that smart mouth of yours until people start trustin’ you, or maybe forever.” You look at him, tears threatening to fall, turning away to shield him or yourself, you’re not sure. Food. Shelter. Medical. My god how is this possible. He takes this time to look away from you and retrieve jerky from his pack which he holds out for you, and you take it. “Thank you...” you say in the quietest voice you think you’ve ever used realizing you don’t know his name. “Joel, name’s Joel Miller.” He nods and points his head in the direction he wants you to walk. Looking at your hair he says, “C’mon Ash,” and he follows just behind you. What you don’t see is the uptick of his lip on one side that reveals a dimple you’ve yet to witness on his beautiful face and his eyes linger on you for far too long when he should be watching your surroundings. That’s what you don’t see.

[amywritesthings]

silver underground. | chapter 22

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 5k Summary: the past and present; levi's version Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - flashbacks, levi's pov, graphic imagery, sickness, medical conversations, panic / paranoia, mentions / canon divergence of the recently published 'bad boy' chapter (extra warnings under the cut)

Previous Chapter. / Next Chapter. | Masterlist.

CHAPTER 22.

note: there is a presumed major character death in this chapter. please do not read if you are not in the right headspace for this content. mental health first xo

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He can’t shake the adrenaline.

Kinetic energy thrums through his veins, destroying his focus.

For the fifth time since he returned to headquarters, Levi’s hands dip generously into the pool of ice-cold sink water in the corner of his bedroom.

His wrists flick up, quick, to splash it across his face like the whiplash sting will somehow calm the fever in his heart.

A sixth time.

A seventh.

He’ll keep going until that look on your face from the forest is wiped from his mind.

(Until he stops thinking of the before, when he wasn't enough.)

His lungs constrict as he forces himself to breathe, slow and steady, though the exhales exit like strangled gasps.

White knuckles resign themselves to the mouth of the sink as he leans in. His shoulder blades detangle themselves, sorting out the tension, while his eyes wearily stare at his reflection from the watery mirror below.

I know you, you said.

Of course you know him.

You said a long time ago you’d always know him, as if he’s an extension of your arm leading directly to the beat of your very heart.

How could I forget someone like you? you'd muse. If anything, you'd forget me.

(As if that was ever a fucking option.)

When you were just kids wasting away in the bitterness of the Underground City, you likened yourself to a shadow following Levi’s every footstep.

How could you look at yourself as a shadow when you were always the only light in his goddamn life?

You may not remember everything that's happened to you, everything that's made you, but Levi has silently volunteered to carry every burden in the interim.

Yours and his.

Up a hill, down a slope, through the mud, against raging snow — he'll carry the essence of you until you come back.

Because he was there.

For most, if not all, of it, he was there.

Twin fingers, reaching high for the stream of morning sunlight.

Shoulder to shoulder in a mess of sheets; you swore you’d never get over the sensation — the warmth of the light.

He'd never forget.

Levi would come to know warmth far better than the sun above — like the ghost of smile peppered over your lips.

He rolled over to selfishly block your view.

You were better than the goddamn sun, he'd quickly come to realize for himself.

He'd never forget.

"Can you believe there's really a world out there like this that can be real?" you murmured into the hollow of his throat as he peppered a crown of kisses against your forehead.

That the two of you could lay on a mattress easily fitting the both of you, not threatening to cave in on itself.

That you both could live this secret life, as Captain and Lieutenant, until you were old and gray.

For a second he so foolishly believed you could, too.

In comparison to the Underground, the surface could be considered paradise.

Maybe still hell on earth in its own right, sure, but at least it wasn’t a life buried in a tomb.

The vibrant green of the trees. The dirt that didn’t always stink of rot. The endless blue sky above.

Warmth was a comfort so many took for granted.

You knew. You both knew.

Caked sweat and congealed blood. Green bruises and busted lips. An abyss of gray, nothingness.

That's what he understood best.

 — especially after she died.

His mother; the first concept he had of the sun.

And for the short few years she was alive, she was radiant. 

The withering city wasn’t so bad under her wing, even if the men who berated and belittled her were. 

Levi vowed he’d grow strong enough, brave enough, to make sure one day they wouldn’t have to live in a cramped space surviving on the niceties of traded goods — bodies for money, lies for survival.

Then Kenny entered his life and everything became violent.

Bared teeth and closed fists. Selfishness and territories.

Mine, mine, mine.

Except it was all his — that bastard took every damn cent he could make off of him and then some, oftentimes working him to the bone.

(You got a meanness, boy. Meanness that can’t be taught. No, that’s deep in your blood.)

And Levi believed him.

He believed him because no matter how easy it could’ve been to lie down and die, to maybe one day see his mother at the end of his dining table again, he was fully prepared to do whatever he had to in order to survive. 

To endure. 

To come out on top and never let anyone — not even Kenny the Ripper — destroy him.

Because he had memories to hold onto. 

People.

The rest of the world may have forgotten his mother, but Levi refused.

Hell, it was his only driving force.

He might have known violence, it may have infected his blood, but he wouldn’t lose his humanity and disappoint her.

And when Kenny set him up for a betting fight, usually it was with men twice his size and triple his age.

Little kids were never on the roster, but you — you were an exception.

New, but just as ferocious.

A girl, sure, but you landed the punches on him so many others couldn’t.

He remembers the way your neck felt under his bony fingers. How your teeth clenched together. How you growled like a feral animal.

One more second of that fight and you would have been able to overtake his lead — he was too busy staring, searching.

Memorizing someone who had endured, too.

You said you were a shadow.

Levi knew shadows.

If you were a shadow, then maybe he would've ignored you.

Maybe he would have left you the hell alone.

(Because at the end of the day, all of this is his fault. The memory loss, the injuries — all of it.)

After the gun fired and the crowd scrambled, Levi couldn’t leave you well-enough alone.

He couldn’t let you find your own way in the maze of a miserable mausoleum where your bodies would eventually find peace together, perhaps even side by side.

All Levi could do was selfishly keep tabs, watch your fights, see that piece of shit you called Mother berate and harass you in the comfort of alleyways hidden from plain sight.

If you didn’t die in the rings, then chances are she would have sold you off — resigning you to live out the rest of your days like his mother.

He saw the way the world was cruel to her.

He’d be damned if he didn’t stop the world from being cruel to you.

So at the end of the day, yeah, it’s all his fault.

If he hadn’t convinced you to join his two-person operation all those years ago;

If he had pushed you harder before the final job to hate him;

If he had figured out a loophole in Erwin’s ignorance of what you are to him to push you into another division that wasn’t the goddamn Scouts, claiming disruption or inciting violence—

If, if, if—

So many possibilities, so many scenarios, where he holds your fate so selfishly against his own chest in fear of dissolving it.

Yet he was so willing to finally let you go.

To do the right thing now that you’re on the surface.

Now that you are free.

An invisible string that gleams crimson is tied to his ring finger.

It dips under the sink and snakes across the wooden floorboards of his bedroom, into the hallway, and straight to you.

If only he had caught you the first time.

If only.

.

.

.

.

.

.

  In the aftermath of falling straight to the forest floor, dust kicks up all around him, invading his lungs and choking him out.

It burns, but it doesn't deter him.

Here he has only one objective.

One goal.

“James?”

He calls your name, hoping to hear something.

Anything.

The only sound that answers is the bristle of the tree branches above.

A scene so ghastly concludes with serenity and the weightless chirps of birds.

Coughing, Levi swipes at the cloud of dirt with his hands, dropping his dulled blade to the earth.

It clunks as violently as he’s moving, scrambling to find your silhouette anywhere in this goddamn mess.

"C'mon, damn it," he growls to himself, swiping at the murky air.

One step, then another.

You can't be far.

He'd fallen down with you, trying to break both of your falls, but the momentum was far too great.

At the last second, he rolled away from you thinking you'd lean in and follow.

You did not follow.

—then he sees it.

You’re not vertical, head up and feet outstretched in a daze.

You’re horizontal, lying face-down in the dirt.

Motionless.

“James?!”

Levi repeats your name, louder this time, before nearly vomiting from how much debris he’s inhaled.

He wretches, arm wrapped around his stomach, teeth grit.

He manages to get ahold of himself, to stave off the sickness, before he drops to the ground and crawls to you on hands and knees like a child.

“James, hey—”

The world stops, then and there.

You don't move. You don't respond.

His hand halts in a hover over your body, painfully aware that he cannot pull you upright carelessly.

It's so quiet down here.

Quiet, as if...

Slowly his watering eyes widen, his mind going to the place where logic can follow.

“...James,” he murmurs, voice dissolving. 

He decides to then scoop the once-hovering hand to inch it under your wrapped emerald cloak. His other hand cradles the back of your neck, mindful of the worst case scenario.

The sickening heaviness of your body greets him as he turns you over, carefully, to find your lips parted and eyes closed.

He can't tell if you're breathing.

You look like you're sleeping.

No.

No, this isn't what it looks like.

“James, shit, wake up—”

His words crack, throat dry.

“Wake up.”

Louder this time, like anger might jolt you.

Where he goes, you’re meant to follow. 

You’ll follow his voice. You’ll follow it and you’ll wake up and he’ll never forget how you scared the living shit out of him.

(Even if he will eventually forgive you for dedicating your fucking heart to a cause you didn’t even believe in.)

Logic battles with emotion.

Reality fights with fate.

Cradling the back of your head with immense care, Levi takes action and head ducks to press against your chest, desperate to find —

There.

It’s faint, but a heartbeat is still there.

“Don't do this,” he pleads under his breath. “Don’t you up and fucking quit on me now. I know you can hear me.”

The wheeze of overworked gear flies past his head in a semi-circle.

Several boots land to his west, hasty in their descent.

Luckily his head is turned to the east.

(He can hide the growing terror from his squad. He can buy himself more time to harness his panic and push it away.)

“Captain?” It’s Eld, wasting no time to rush over. He hears the quick taps of his boots running right for him. “Captain, what the hell happened?”

“James?!” Petra yelps, and he can hear Oluo gasp with finality.

No.

No, you aren’t dying.

Not today. Not tomorrow.

“Wait, don’t,” Gunther interjects suddenly.

Levi assumes it’s to keep the rest of the squad back from crowding the scene.

The blonde scout drops to his knees beside his captain, panting heavily. Levi can smell the stench of sweat and exertion radiating from his uniform.

“Captain Levi,” Eld urges once more.

“We have to get her back to the Walls," he forces himself to say, voice steady.

Levi lifts his head with practiced precision.

He meets Eld's worried gaze with a deadened stare.

"Is she...?"

"Her heartbeat is faint," Levi answers the question Eld doesn't have to finish, "but it’s there.”

Eld's face falls.

Levi hates it.

I just said it's there, damn it. Don't consider her dead. Don't.

“She saved us!”

A meek voice peeks out from behind Eld's back.

Levi Squad turns in unison — a well-oiled machine built for crisis — to find Miro Squad riding to the clearing with the extra horses.

The entire squad looks haunted, worse for wear, but they still stayed.

They still fought to the bitter end.

Like true Scouts.

Miro hops off of their horse, running over to the group first.

“Several titans attacked us. If it wasn't for the Lieutenant, we would have all been eaten alive. Please, if we can help in any way, we owe her.”

They bow as one of the other shaken Scouts pulls Levi's horse by the reins from around the back of the formation.

“Sir, Scout Rini is a doctor," Miro continues.

“A doctor?” Oluo blurts incredulously. “Out here? In the field?”

“Formerly a doctor,” Rini anxiously states while dismounting from his horse, "before I joined the cause. I — I would say I could treat her here, but there’s nothing I can do. Too much blood loss. If we can get her inside the Walls—”

“Are we going to keep wasting time talking?” Levi growls, glaring daggers at the rest of the group. “I’m not letting her bleed the hell out. Help me get her on my horse.”

No one hesitates.

Both squads rush to his aid, lifting you with utmost care.

Twenty pairs of hands and ten bodies working in tandem to make sure they don’t jostle your neck or hurt your spine.

The captain only lets go of you to hoist himself up on his black stallion, before bringing you close to his body in a side-saddle.

He can ride one-armed and keep you steady.

He refuses to believe otherwise. 

Because Levi sees it on their faces — beyond the faintest breath against his hand, there’s next to no indicators that you’ll survive.

But they don’t know you.

Not like he knows you.

“Don’t you die on me,” he murmurs against the crown of your head, lips close enough to count as a kiss.

Then he’s off.

He speeds off like a bullet on his horse, crouching over with his jaw so clenched he can feel his teeth nearly cracking.

Forward. His only goal is to push forward — past the trees, past the old villages, and doesn’t stop to look back.

“You’re not allowed to die.”

From this distance the other won't be able to hear, but you might. So he keeps talking.

Come back to me.

“Still got all that shit you wanted to do up here, right? You remember that?”

Levi wishes you could answer.

He wants to believe you would if you could.

“You still gotta get those dumbass cats of yours. You know how many of those filthy things are on the streets? You can fill an entire fucking house for all I care.”

Anything.

He’ll do anything, at this point.

“Didn’t give me a chance to… to find a damn house, to figure everything out—”

A whole world left to discover.

(You asked for his last name. A last name worth nothing, yet somehow it still held something for you. God damn it, he’d give you that last fucking name in every lifetime so long as he could still keep you in this one.)

He stops speaking when Gunther and Eld take it upon themselves to push their horses to their limits, flying past him.

They surge forward in their journey to the nearing Walls, determined to carve a seamless entrance for Levi to enter. 

Eld leans back and holds an arm up high, shooting off a red flare for the Garrison Regiment stationed at the perimeter to see:

Danger.

(Once they reached the gates, they could explain everything. A red flare is enough for now.)

Flicking his wrist to snap the reins, his horse picks up the pace and gallops harder.

Levi pulls you into his chest, ignoring the tremble in his limbs.

From fear or adrenaline. 

From both.

“We have an injured Scout, but she’s still alive!” Eld shouts to the Garrison Regiment above with an urgency Levi’s never heard from the typically stoic man. “We need a wagon and medics, now!”

Between the flare and Eld’s command, the action is already set in motion.

The gears churn, slowly opening the large stone gate just enough for humans to clear in passing. 

Eld and Gunther are first.

Levi, not far after. 

The others, including Miro Squad, arrive seconds later.

Several Garrison soldiers pull up to the gate with a wagon suitable for approximately eight, maybe ten people.

Levi continues to hold you protectively to his chest as they prepare, cradling your neck with the utmost care.

One false move and the light goes out. 

(He knows how easy it is to take a human life.)

“Levi!”

He hears the wail of Hange’s voice in the midst of the panic.

His eyes search for them in the commotion, body stonelike, only to spy their unruly ponytail flying in the wind — with Moblit not far behind.

And...

Commander Erwin?

The tall blonde causes the crowd to divide in half, shoulders adorned with the Scout emeralds.

Hange and Moblit look just as horrified as he feels.

They run right up to the side of his horse calling your name, but their voices are all but mumbles to him.

Not when Erwin’s eyes bore into his.

Although the commander's expression is one of stone, Levi can sense what Erwin wants to say.

Unspoken deja vu; they’ve seen how this played out before.

Except this time, Levi has you in one piece.

He made it back this time.

He didn't forsake you.

(And he isn’t letting a titan take you from him. Not like Isabel. Not like Furlan.)

“Levi, what happened?!”

Hange rips him out of his trance, bringing him back to gruesome reality.

Medics finally arrive on the scene. Below him he can see Scout Rini directing them, immediately stepping back into his former occupation with ease.

On the sidelines, the remainder of Miro Squad huddles together.

Eyes watery and body trembling, some cry into their hands.

Some hide their faces in the shoulders of their comrades.

She’s not dead yet, he wants to snap at them. Don’t act like she’s gone. Not yet.

(If he repeats it enough, then can he make the impossible true?)

“She played hero, that’s what fucking happened," Levi seethes after he manages to find his voice, forcing it not to crack. "Saved a goddamn squad on her own against orders. She needs a doctor. I don’t know—”

“They need to take her, Levi,” Hange interrupts with an understanding softness in their tone. “Let her go.”

The captain’s under eye trembles.

“I’m going with her on the—”

“You will,” Hange promises, nodding quickly, “but you have to let her go so they can start working — before it’s too late.”

They're right.

The medics are waiting, just on the other side to receive her.

Slowly Levi unfurls his arms, one by one, and helps gently transfer you to the people he's entrusting your life to.

As soon as you're off of his lap, however, Levi swivels his legs off of his horse to follow suit.

Hange’s eyes widen as he dismounts, but Levi’s too busy watching them set you down in a sea of blankets and gauze. 

“Levi, your shirt. It’s…”

Briefly he turns his chin to glance up at his comrade, registering what they're saying before looking down:

Maroon.

Deep, deep maroon.

His once-white button down is stained with a mixture of grimy dirt and blood.

“It isn’t mine," is all he can think of saying back.

Hange's expression shifts in seconds, a certain slant of pity he hates witnessing.

He doesn't have the energy to fight Hange, Erwin, any of them.

Not when he has to get to you.

He has to stay with you no matter what.

With that statement lingering in the air, Levi abandons Hange to trudge over to the wagon. In one swift motion, the captain hops over the siding of the transport.

His knees fall just above your head, settling in place for the ride to the hospital.

Most of the medics are too busy ripping up your uniform to check for deep gashes and broken bones, documenting them as they gear up to leave, but a few glance at Levi with uncomfortable shock.

Then one brave soul speaks.

“Sir, we’ll need you to stay back.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Levi firmly states.

“But it—”

“The wagon fits ten. If you have a problem with it, we can talk later. She's on my squad.”

She's my responsibility, damn it, and I'm failing her.

The wagon dips once again in newfound weight, and a pair of knees come into view.

On the other side of James’ head rests Hange.

“I’m going, too," Hange states firmly.

Levi can feel his expression smoothing, one of reluctant gratitude.

He catches the sentiment, buries the emotion down his throat, and drops his chin to focus on James.

“C’mon, c’mon!" they shout to the medics for him. "Let’s go! We can't waste anymore time, damn it!”

With Hange’s order, the wagon takes off. 

In the initial jolt, Levi abruptly reaches both of his bloodied palms to rest on either side of your head, keeping it in place as the horses run the wagon to the Trost hospital.

The medics and Doctor Rini continue working amongst themselves, with Hange on the ledge observing.

Seconds feel like hours.

It's agony.

“We’re almost there,” he murmurs under his breath, to you and you alone. “Just a little longer, alright? We’re in the Walls. You went back and saved almost an entire squad by yourself, you overachieving piece of shit. So don’t give up now, damn it. Keep fighting.”

Despite not being alone this time, the captain is unwilling to stop talking for a single moment.

He can sense Hange’s eyes boring down the back of his neck, but he doesn’t care for decorum.

He doesn’t give a shit if this brings more questions at his front door.

This may be your last few moments with him.

So he won’t leave.

(He never left Mom, and he sure as fuck isn’t leaving you.)

“She’ll need extensive surgery.” 

A rogue murmur catches his attention.

When Levi looks up, he sees one of the medics addressing the doctor scout. Gravity brings a grimace to her face. 

A second medic frowns. “Do you think she’s going to—”

“Don’t say it,” Rini replies softly. “What she needs is our undivided attention. This is a Lieutenant of the Scouts, and she saved my life. Treat her life as your highest priority.”

Levi decides to say nothing.

There is nothing to be said — no argument will change the outcome.

As the wagon finally arrives at Trost medical, they’re received by staff with a gurney.

They begin prepping you to be transferred, but—

In a flurry, Hange gasps and leaps out of their seat to fiddle with your neck.

The sudden touch completely throws him off, causing him to protectively curl around you.

“The hell are you doing?”

“Her necklace, Levi,” Hange swiftly states, their own voice shaking. “The doctors could break it during surgery. You know she’d never let us live it down if they destroy it.”

His heart seizes.

Hange’s act of kindness isn’t lost on him.

You loved that damn thing. 

No, you love.

You’re still there.

It isn’t just a mere memory yet.

Belatedly nodding, the dark-haired man clears his throat. "Yeah, she'd be pissed."

"I thought so," Hange exhales, finally detaching the clasps.

It's the first time he's seen you without it since you were teenagers.

(Doesn't look right, being off your neck like that.)

Eventually the medics successfully transfer you to the awaiting gurney.

Without another word to Hange or himself, the team dedicating to saving your life run into the building.

Everything was a flurry until there was nothing.

Silence.

Levi’s shoulders slump as he’s forced to watch you disappear from his sight.

There wasn’t a chance to save Furlan or Isabel.

They’d been destroyed, limb from limb, before he could stop it from happening.

He’d managed to get you this far, but…

Now it was out of his hands.

His fists clench, determined to keep your blood close, protected, in his palms.

(Helpless.)

“Do you want to hold it for her?”

Hange’s voice enters his mind as he slowly turns his chin, blue-grey eyes finding the taller scout frowning.

Their eyes are glassy in a way he refuses.

Mourning.

Slowly they extend their arm, unfurling their fingers.

A lump forms in the middle of his throat at the sight of the glittering silver in their palm, the pendant still just as beautiful as the day you accepted his gift.

“Keep it, Four Eyes, and give it back to her when she wakes up.”

(If he touches it, then you might actually disappear. He already possesses enough keepsakes from the dead with a self-inflicted burden to carry them all. The world may have forgotten them, but he hasn’t. He won’t.)

“Levi…”

“She’s going to live, Hange.” 

Whether he says it to convince Hange or himself, Levi doesn’t know. Perhaps it’s for both of them.

He knows how much they adore you.

He’s no stranger to the fact that you’ve made your own home outside of him — they love you as much as he loves you.

“She’s a fighter. Always been once, ever since we were kids.”

The lack of shock in Hange’s gaze makes him wonder how much you’ve told them about the two of you.

“She’ll fight tooth and nail to get the hell back here.”

“I know she will,” Hange laments.

A blanket of silence envelops them as they continue to wait for any news outside of the hospital, together.

The longer he waits, the closer he feels to being ten years old again.

Alone.

So fucking along and so goddamn terrified to wait for the truth.

Because it’s either one or the other.

You live, or your story ends.

Levi inhales, holding his breath.

And holds.

And holds, childishly wishing it could be enough for the both of you.

Like if he doesn’t let go until you gasp for life, then he can save you.

He can keep you.

.

.

.

.

.

.

  He finally exhales, giving in to the collapse of his shoulders.

He can’t save you, just as much as he can’t keep you.

Levi knows this.

He’s known it since the second you woke up in that hospital bed without an ounce of warmth in those eyes of yours.

That was when he made his choice to leave you be, to give you a running shot at the life the two of you had always talked about.

He thought one day was grueling.

Impossible.

One day became one week.

One week into months.

He stayed away, but at what cost?

He hasn’t slept right in this bed.

He barely eats.

He opts to show his face at the mess hall with his standard cup of black tea to keep up the appearances.

If the real you died that day, then he was certain he died right alongside you.

Now, within six agonizing months, you’ve saved yourself — chose yourself — to still somehow end up right back where he left you.

(That kiss, tattooed with the permanence of the loss of you, still burns his lips from yesterday.)

You might remember.

You might know who you really are.

You might know him.

The sink below rattles.

It takes a second, but when he shifts his dissociative stare to his thumb, he notes the tremble.

He grips tighter, squeezing, before giving up. He pushes away from it altogether, cradling his forearm to suppress it himself. 

Focus.

Find your sanity and ease it back.

Maybe you won’t say what he wants to hear, but he promised like a fool.

Don’t push me away. Don’t shut me out.

I won't, he promised. I’ll never.

Hearing the horses whinny to a halt outside, he scrubs his face with his hand and chooses to turn on a heel to stalk towards the door.

He’ll scope out how everyone’s doing, make a cup of tea, mull all this shit over—

Then he opens his door to your face.

You stand before him, hand raised like you were about to knock.

Frozen in time just like he feels.

James.

Levi can’t feign indifference when he stares back at you, not when it’s almost unsettling how much more… you, you look right now. 

Life radiates from a dead body. You’re not apologetic in getting caught, just apologetic that you nearly slammed the knuckles of your fist into his face.

For a moment, there’s silence. 

He can hear the other scouts talking amongst themselves downstairs.

And before he can say a word, you speak.

“Can we please—”

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t let you finish.

There’s no reason.

Rip the bandage off the congealed blood.

Call it a day, if he is meant to lose it all.

His hand extends the door on its hinge, inviting space for you.

“Yeah, might as well.”

You step in, and Levi prepares for the worst.

.

author's note: a lot of you had asked for levi's pov on the events that went down, and i've been waiting to get his side of the story.

thank you for reading the final few chapters of this journey. you are all so very wonderful for the encouragement, the engagement, etc. on both here and ao3. i hope all of my rebloggers have a good night's sleep and a little treat; you are the soul of this story.

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (VII)

Chapter 7 : And so I still wait, like a lonely house, for you to see me and inhabit me again. Until that time, my windows ache.

Hi! Here is another chapter! On the menu for today: lots of aching, some terrible ideas and a plot twist!

I hope you like this new chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2148

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Sonnet 65

Matilde, where are you? I only just noticed behind my necktie and above my heart, a certain melancholy between my ribs: It was that, all of a sudden, you are gone.

I needed the light of your energy so much. I looked all around me, devouring hope, and saw that the space without you is a house, with nothing left in it but tragic windows.

In the pure silence now, the roof is listening to the falling of ancient leafless rain, to feathers, to what the night has imprisoned.

And so I still wait, like a lonely house, for you to see me and inhabit me again. Until that time, my windows ache.

Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets, 1959

Elwood was the reason Andrew crawled out of bed the next day. A Sunday morning filled with rain, the colour of the sky matching his mood. The dog came licking at the hand hanging from the side of the bed, and Andrew was annoyed, for sure, but the second his eyes fell on his lovely dog, he could only groan in exasperation and sit up.

He looked at the empty spot in his bed, undisturbed and cold. It felt like staring at the chasm that had claimed his heart since Sam had left. Empty, dark, frightening, lonely…

He didn’t even know who he was anymore. He used to be Sam’s partner, what was he now?

Single.

The word echoed in his head and chest and brought a new set of tears to his eyes. And he had thought about marrying her…

What a fucking fool…

Elwood let out a whimper, looked up at Andrew with begging eyes. God, he had to get up, take care of his dog. He couldn’t just lay there all day, he needed to take Elwood on a walk, despite the rain and his bleeding heart. Feed him, scratch him behind the ears for being a good boy…

Andrew needed to get his body functioning again, there was no use in lying there all day anyway. That was what the logical part of his brain was saying, trying to coax his body into motion, but his muscles simply refused to respond. He was exhausted, didn’t have the strength for it. He knew he couldn’t let himself spiral into a depressive episode, he had to wrestle against it or else he would drown in it.

He heaved a painful sigh.

“I’m coming, buddy. I’m coming,” he mumbled to Elwood.

The dog rubbed his snout against Andrew’s legs as he rested his feet on the cool tiles of his floor. He took a couple of seconds to gather his strength and stood up, his back aching after laying down for too long.

He grabbed his phone as he got dressed in a hurry, checked the voicemail left by his mother asking how he was feeling, his brother’s text, Alex’s five unanswered calls. He tugged the phone in the pocket of his jeans without answering to anyone. He would deal with society and people later, for now, he needed to find the strength to get decently dressed, find his keys, find Elwood’s leash.

He didn’t eat or drink coffee before leaving, he simply secured Elwood’s leash, and walked out of his apartment, brain buzzing with static noise and body numb. He pulled up his hood once he stepped into the street, the feeling of the rain finally bringing him back to reality, anchoring him for a moment.

His head was swarming with thoughts, with questions, with hate towards himself. But more than anything else, he couldn’t understand what was happening. Sam had refused to even move in with him, saying that they needed to grow as people before doing that, saying she didn’t feel ready to share her space with another person. But Andrew was beginning to realise that her refusal had never been about her need to grow, her need for independence, her need for self-discovery. It was about him. Andrew had been the problem all along, and she had strung him along for years, talking about future plans they would accomplish in their thirties, like the finish line was this new decade that stretched ahead of them. But the truth was, she simply didn’t want to do all this with him. He wasn’t enough, and he never was. He was the fucking problem.

And he had thought she was the one…

He still thought she was the one. He still loved her. He still wanted her back.

He waited for Elwood while the dog sniffed around a tree, the rain heavy on his coat, the rhythmic pattern of raindrops drowning the noise of the busy city. And Andrew thought of you, of the weight of your body in his arms as you collapsed last night, the streetlights shining on your tears, the pain in your eyes…

You wanted your ex back as well. Frank. Frank.

Frank who had seduced the love of Andrew’s life, Frank who was now going to marry the woman he loved, Frank who had shattered your heart and was now responsible for your pain…

Frank… Christ, Andrew hated him. He had seen him for only a moment, and yet he hated him. He hated him for all that he had taken from him, taken from you…

And he seemed to be Andrew’s perfect opposite. Handsome. Charming. Charismatic. Extraverted. Blond with blue eyes, a smile to die for, a bubbly personality, the kind who easily made friends, who loved socializing. And he wasn’t a stupidly tall, clumsy tree like Andrew was. He was muscular, clearly worked out a lot. An image you would expect to see on the cover of Vogue magasine. Andrew wasn’t. Andrew wasn’t, and he had thought Sam liked that he wasn’t like that, that he was him. Clearly, he had been wrong. He could feel all of his insecurities bubbling up to the surface again, about his appearance, about his height, about his personality…

Was Sam bored of him? Did she realise he wasn’t attractive or something?

Elwood tugged on his leash, brought Andrew back to the present.

No… no, he couldn’t believe that the last eight years had happened for no reason. And he couldn’t believe that she was going to marry a man she had met two months ago. That wasn’t like Sam at all. She was… she was acting stupid. She was having some kind of crisis, he didn’t know what it was. Maybe she felt bored in their relationship, but he could make efforts for her. To go out more, to develop his social skills, to be more charming, to surprise her more… he would do it. He would hit the gym if she wanted. God, he’d do anything…

This whole situation with Frank made no sense. And Sam needed to realise that she was acting without thinking, clearly, that this was crazy.

The rain got heavier, Elwood was getting cold, so Andrew decided to shorten their walk, and he hurried towards his home again. Head low, staring at the glistening curb, he thought about how he could bring Sam back to her senses. Elwood was pulling on his leash now, cold and wanting to hurry home.

Surely, there was a way to make her see that this made no fucking sense… right?

You were surprised by Andrew’s call that morning. The buzzing of your phone woke you up, you answered with a voice groggy with sleep. He apologised for waking you, asked if you could meet him at a coffeeshop that afternoon. You were taken aback by his invitation, but you accepted anyway. You needed to get out of bed, eventually, and seeing Andrew gave you a reason to get dressed and get your body moving.

You were wearing sweatpants and an old cardigan under your coat as you waited for Andrew to arrive at the coffeeshop, and the truth was, you didn’t give two shites about your appearance today. You were too sad for that, too stunned as well…

You didn’t notice that Andrew was fifteen minutes late, you were busy with your thoughts. When he sat down on the opposite side of the small wooden table, you barely noticed him.

“Hi! Sorry, I’m late…”

“Hi! It’s okay…”

“I hope you didn’t wait for too long.”

“No, that’s alright.”

You forced a smile as your gaze caught his, but you read the same desolation in his reddened eyes, in the dark circles under them. He had spent his night crying too…

“How are you feeling?” he asked a polite question, but you saw in the way he stared at you that he really meant it.

“Terrible. You?”

“Like proper shite.”

“Yeah… I reckon that last night was… a lot…”

“I didn’t know Sam knew Frank. I had no idea…”

“I didn’t know either. I would have told you, had it been the case.”

He nodded, cleared his throat.

“Want a coffee? Tea?”

“Coffee would be nice, thanks.”

He went to get your drinks, offered you a warm porcelain cup when he came back.

“Why did you want to see me?” you asked quite bluntly, but you reckoned there was no reason to circle around the issue.

“Erm… I… I thought we ought to talk about what happened last night.”

“How so?”

“I… First, I want to make it clear that it’s not going to change anything in how I see you. And I… it won’t change anything concerning our work.”

Slowly, you nodded.

“Same. None of this is your fault.”

“Good… grand… I’m glad to hear you say that. Like… I was worried you would resent me for Sam and Frank.”

“Looks like we were both the ones who got fooled.”

“Yeah… big time…”

Andrew was nervous. Very nervous. The way he kept on touching his face, on readjusting his glasses, on rubbing at his palms were obvious signs. He averted his eyes and seemed keen on avoiding all eye-contact for a while. You wanted to reassure him.

“I… I’m not going to lie, I’m devastated by the whole thing. But I’m well-aware that none of this is your fault, Andrew. It won’t change anything in the way I see you, and I won’t resent you or… or feel uncomfortable working with you.”

He slowly nodded.

“Is that why you wanted to see me?” you asked, but Andrew bit on the inside of his cheek for a moment before he would answer.

“Partly, yes. I reckoned that we needed to discuss this together before we would be back at Trinity. But… there’s also… I wanted to talk about something else. I wanted to make you an offer.”

“An offer?”

He let out a long exhale, before finally gathering the courage to look at you again. You stared at his hazel eyes, silently questioning what he meant.

“Look I… I understand that we’re colleagues, that this is highly unprofessional of me but… I love Samantha. I want her back. I want her back, and to be honest, I’m ready to do anything to get her back. And… judging by your reaction last night, and for the past few weeks… I can clearly see that you want Frank back as well.”

“Of course, I want him back.”

“Honestly… this whole thing is ridiculous. It’s nonsense. Sam and I were together for almost eight years and all of a sudden… she gets engaged to a guy she met two months ago?! No offense towards Frank…”

“No, no, I agree! Like… Frank and I were engaged, he pushed back our wedding because he wasn’t ready and all of a sudden he’s ready to marry a woman he barely knows! Like… I’m sure she’s great, but he doesn’t even know her at that point!”

“Exactly! They’re clearly making a mistake, I don’t know what’s gotten into their heads, but it’s madness…”

“It is! And they don’t seem to realise it!”

Andrew nodded, stared at you for a moment.

“I want to make her realise that she’s acting stupid, that she needs to think things through, that this is a mistake. And I think you want Frank to do the same, right?”

“Yes, of course. But I’ve tried talking with him, and he shuts me down every time…”

“Sam does the same. But I’m determined to show them the truth. And I… I want you to help me.”

You blinked, frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“I want Sam back. You want Frank back. We both agree that they’re acting in an illogical way, and that they’re making a mistake. We need to show them, make them realise this whole thing is a terrible idea, bring them back to their senses. But I don’t think we can do that on our own.”

“And what would you propose we do then?”

“We need to show them that this wedding is a terrible idea. We need to ruin their wedding.”

You raised a surprised eyebrow, taken aback.

Ruin their wedding?

Show them they weren’t meant for each other?

Andrew offered you his open hand.

“This would be highly unprofessional,” you added, and Andrew merely nodded.

“It would be, yes. And I’d understand if you refused. But I don’t see another way out. Do you?”

You didn’t. There didn’t seem to be any other way out of this mess. And at least, you wouldn’t face all of this on your own anymore.

You stared at Andrew’s hand, long, pale fingers stretched towards you. When you shook it, your hand seemed ridiculously small in his.

You looked up to catch his hazel eyes with yours again.

“You’re right. Let’s ruin their wedding.”

[talkdutchtome]

Glitch- chapter nine

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

series masterlist . . . available here )

a/n . . . endlessly sorry for how long its been, but i'm back now and we're straight back into tooth rotting fluff <3 )

The dull and familiar sound of the iphone ringtone pulled Y/N abruptly from her nap, she groggily reached for device that woke her so rudely, blinking away the remnants of sleep as she saw Reece's name on the caller ID. 

"Hey, Reece. What's up?" she mumbled, still half-asleep. 

"Hi, Y/N," came Reece's voice, surprisingly serious. "Did you seriously go to Monaco? With Max?" 

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "Um, yeah," she admitted, unsure where this line of questioning was leading. 

"Are we, like, real friends now? Not just, like, mutual friends through Mason?" Reece's question was direct, leaving no room for evasion. The haziness of her nap now long forgotten.  

Y/N hesitated, caught off guard by the abruptness of the inquiry. "I... I guess so," she replied tentatively. 

Reece didn't mince his words in response. "Does Max know that you and Mason slept together?" 

Y/N could literally feel her heart sink. She wasn't prepared for this confrontation, especially not with Reece, she didn’t even know how he knew about that. 

"I, uh... I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered, attempting to deflect. 

"Cut the bullshit, Y/N," Reece snapped, his usually easygoing demeanor replaced by an uncharacteristic sharpness. 

Y/N's breath caught in her throat. She'd never heard Reece speak like this before, and it rattled her.  

"Okay, fine," she relented, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, he knows. He came to visit me that night and he could tell something was up and sussed it out, and we decided I should come to Monaco to give... whatever we have a chance. Away from M- away from distractions." 

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line, and Y/N braced herself for Reece's response. She couldn't shake the feeling of vulnerability, exposed by Reece's penetrating questions. 

Finally, Reece spoke, his tone softer now. "I understand, Y/N. I hope you figure out what you want." 

As Y/N ended the call, she took a moment to collect herself, the weight of Reece's words settling over her like a heavy blanket. She knew she couldn't evade the consequences of her choices, no matter how much she wished she could. 

The soft knock on the door stirred Y/N from her reverie, and she quickly composed herself before answering. As Max entered, his concern was evident in the furrow of his brow and the gentle tone of his voice. 

"Hey, Y/N. How'd you sleep? Is the room okay for you?" Max inquired, his eyes scanning her face for any sign of distress. 

Y/N managed a small smile, grateful for his consideration. "I slept fine, thank you. And the room is lovely, really," she replied, her voice soft but genuine. 

Max nodded, seemingly satisfied with her response. "Good to hear. So, who were you talking to on the phone earlier?" he asked casually, his curiosity piqued. 

Y/N hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to reveal. "Oh, just Reece," she replied, hoping to brush off the conversation. 

Max arched an eyebrow, sensing her reluctance to elaborate. "What did he want?" he pressed gently, his gaze unwavering. 

Y/N swallowed hard, knowing she couldn't avoid the truth. "He... he was asking if it was true that I came here," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Max's expression softened at her words, a flicker of understanding passing between them. "Oh, how did he know that?" he inquired, his tone gentle but probing. 

Y/N closed her eyes briefly, steeling herself for the admission. "Mason," she murmured, the name heavy with unspoken implications. 

The mention of Mason hung in the air like an unwelcome guest, casting a shadow over the room and injecting a palpable tension into the atmosphere. Y/N felt a knot form in her stomach at the mere sound of his name, a stark reminder of the complicated dynamics that had brought her here. 

For Max, the mention of Mason was like stumbling upon a hidden obstacle in an otherwise smooth path. He couldn't ignore the sudden shift in Y/N's demeanor, the subtle tensing of her shoulders and the guarded look in her eyes. It was a reminder of the delicate balance they were navigating, with Mason's presence looming large over their fledgling connection. 

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions, each of them grappling with their own inner turmoil. Y/N struggled to reconcile her lingering feelings for Mason with the growing attraction she felt for Max, while Max found himself grappling with a sense of unease at the thought of his newfound connection being overshadowed by a past that seemed determined to intrude. 

Max sensed the discomfort radiating from Y/N like a tangible force, and he knew he had to act quickly to alleviate the awkwardness that had settled between them like a heavy shroud. With a subtle shift in his demeanor, he gently changed the subject, his voice carrying a note of reassurance as he reminded her of their upcoming dinner reservations. 

"Hey, um, so, about dinner," he began, his tone light and casual, "We've got reservations in about an hour. Thought we could grab a bite to eat and maybe explore the area a bit afterward. What do you think?" 

His words hung in the air, a lifeline tossed amidst the turbulent sea of emotions that threatened to engulf them. Max watched as Y/N's expression softened ever so slightly, a flicker of relief crossing her features at the prospect of shifting their focus away from the uncomfortable topic at hand. 

"Yeah, that sounds good," she replied, the tension in her voice easing as she welcomed the distraction Max offered. "I could use a nice meal right about now." 

Max offered her a warm smile, his eyes reflecting a silent understanding as he nodded in agreement. "Great. I'll let you get ready then. Just give me a shout when you're good to go, yeah?" 

Y/N nodded in response, a grateful smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she watched Max make his way to the door. As he stepped out into the hallway, she couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for his intuitive nature, for his ability to sense her discomfort and offer her a much-needed reprieve. 

As they drove to the restaurant, Y/N couldn't help but feel a twinge of intimidation as she took in the sleek interior of Max's car, a luxurious vehicle that spoke volumes about the extravagant lifestyle he led. She couldn't help but wonder what it must be like to live in a world filled with such opulence and grandeur, feeling a bit out of place amidst its lavishness. 

Upon arriving at the restaurant, however, her apprehension began to dissipate as she noticed the quaint charm of the place. It was a cozy little spot, far from the flashy extravagance she had expected, and she found herself feeling more at ease as they entered. 

They were greeted by a sweet, elderly couple who seemed to know Max well, exchanging warm greetings and friendly banter as if he were an old friend. Y/N couldn't help but smile at the genuine affection they showed him, feeling a sense of warmth wash over her as they complimented her appearance. 

"Max, my boy, you've outdone yourself this time! Who's this lovely lady you've brought with you?" the elderly gentleman chuckled, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he teased Max. 

Max chuckled sheepishly, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush as he introduced Y/N to the couple. "This is Y/N, and she's far too good for the likes of me," he joked, though there was a sincerity in his voice that made Y/N's heart skip a beat. 

As they were led to their table, she couldn't help but notice the remnants of a slight blush on Max's cheeks, a sight that caused her heart to flutter with an unexpected surge of affection. Sitting across from him, she found herself captivated by the way his eyes sparkled with a hint of excitement, his smile lighting up the room as they settled in for their meal. 

During dinner, Max and Y/N found themselves immersed in a discussion about their respective childhoods, sharing stories and anecdotes that offered glimpses into their pasts. 

"So, Y/N, tell me about your family," Max prompted, his curiosity piqued as he leaned forward, eager to learn more about her background. 

Y/N's eyes sparkled with fond memories as she began to speak. "Well, I come from a big family," she started, a warm smile gracing her lips. "I have three siblings – two sisters and a brother – and we're all really close. Growing up, our house was always bustling with activity, and there was never a dull moment." 

Max listened intently, captivated by her description of a lively household filled with love and laughter. "That sounds wonderful," he remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice. "What was it like being the oldest?" 

Y/N chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "It definitely had its challenges," she admitted, "but it also taught me responsibility and the importance of looking out for others. I always felt like I had to set a good example for my siblings, and that's something that's stuck with me throughout my life." 

As their conversation continued, Y/N turned the spotlight on Max, asking him about his own family and upbringing. Max shared stories of his childhood, delving into what it was like to grow up in a very driven household, where he spent so much of his time as a kid karting and preparing for a career in Formula One.  

After their delightful dinner, Max suggested they visit Le Rocher, a spot where they could admire the breathtaking views of Monaco's old town. As they strolled along, Y/N couldn't help but be mesmerized by the picturesque scenery unfolding before her. 

"It's stunning," she breathed, her eyes sweeping over the panoramic vista. 

Max nodded in agreement, a soft smile playing on his lips. "This is one of my favorite places to come when I need a break from the racing world," he confessed. "Here, I can just be Max." 

Y/N listened, soaking in the tranquility of the moment as they shared a quiet conversation, the gentle evening breeze carrying their words away into the night. 

As they reached a particularly scenic spot, Max mentioned Daniel's persistent encouragement to start a jpeg Instagram account like his. "He's always on my case about it," Max chuckled, turning to face Y/N. "But I've been thinking... what do you say we do a little impromptu photoshoot?" 

Y/N's initial hesitation melted away at the sight of Max's infectious enthusiasm. "Sure, why not?" she replied with a grin. 

With Max behind the camera, they embarked on a playful photoshoot, capturing candid moments and genuine smiles against the backdrop of Monaco's twinkling lights. As they laughed and joked together, time seemed to stand still, and Y/N found herself immersed in the simple joy of being in Max's company. 

As the night wore on and the early hours of the morning approached, they reluctantly called an end to their impromptu adventure. But as they made their way back to Max's apartment, the memory of their laughter lingered, a testament to the undeniable connection they shared. And as they bid each other goodnight, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps, in each other, they had found something truly special. 

Throughout the week in Monaco, Max and Y/N embarked on a series of adventures that seemed to draw them closer with each passing day. Max took her out on a yacht ride, where they basked in the warmth of the Mediterranean sun and marveled at the azure waters surrounding them. They went swimming and jet skiing, reveling in the exhilaration of the open sea. 

One evening, Max surprised Y/N by cooking dinner for her, showcasing his culinary skills with a delicious meal prepared with care. As they dined together, sharing stories and laughter, it felt like they were in their own little world, untouched by the complexities of reality. 

With each passing moment, the bond between them deepened, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging whenever she was with Max. In his company, she felt understood and cherished, as if being around each other was something that was meant to be. 

Despite the idyllic moments they shared, Y/N couldn't shake the lingering thoughts of Mason and the tangled web of emotions that still tied her to him. But in the midst of their blissful escapades, she found solace in the simple joy of being with Max, relishing the moments they spent together and cherishing the connection they shared. 

As race week descended upon Monaco, the tranquil days spent with Max swiftly transformed into a whirlwind of excitement and anticipation. Y/N marveled at the seamless transition as Max shifted gears from the laid-back companion of the past week to the determined machine ready to conquer the race track. 

She observed Max navigate through a flurry of press events with effortless charm, amazed at how the sweet man she had grown fond of could seamlessly transform into a focused and driven athlete once he stepped into his race car. 

During practice sessions, Y/N stood in Max's garage, taking in the electrifying atmosphere as mechanics buzzed around, fine-tuning the car to perfection. She engaged in conversation with others in the garage, soaking in the insider's view of the Formula One world. 

When it was time for qualifying, Y/N found herself watching alongside Heidi, Daniel's girlfriend, forming a quick rapport with her as they cheered on their respective partners. The tension mounted as Max pushed the limits, eventually securing pole position in a stunning display of skill and determination. 

As Max emerged from the garage, triumphant and exhilarated, he sought out Y/N amidst the jubilant crowd. To her surprise, he pulled her into a spontaneous embrace, planting a kiss on her lips that left her head spinning. Caught off guard by the unexpected display of affection, Y/N could only watch as the cameras flashed around them, capturing the moment for the world to see. 

As Max hurried off to attend to his press obligations, Y/N remained in a daze, still reeling from the unexpected kiss and the flurry of attention that followed. Lost in her thoughts, she barely noticed the bustling activity around her until her phone suddenly rang, jolting her back to reality. 

Glancing at the caller ID, she was immediately brought back down to earth. She could feel sick rise up to her throat, she found herself wanting the ground to come up and swallow her whole.  

Her phone remained ringing, a picture of her and her best friend filling the screen with the one name she didn’t want to see right now. Mason.  

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[frenchkisstheabyss]

♱ Ｃｉｔｉｅｓ Ｉｎ Ｄｕｓｔ ♱

♱ Pairings: vampire!hyunlix x chubby!fem!vampire!reader, vampire!bang chan

♱ Genre: vampire au/horror/angst/fluff

♱ Summary: After their lover’s taken by vampire hunters, Hyunjin and Felix are willing to do anything to get her back but finding her is only the beginning of a journey down a twisted, blood soaked path where they find there are much scarier things in the world besides them and the biggest threat of them all may be closer than they think.

♱ Word Count: 3.9k-ish

♱ Warnings: vampires, blood, violence, expressions of pain/loneliness/heartbreak, some fluffy kisses. this chapter’s more emotionally driven than ultra bloody (future chapters will for sure get a lil gory), & that’s all

♱ A/N: I’m literally so nervous posting this. It’s the first fic I’ve written in a while and moody vampires are my happy place so I really hope this finds the people who love them too and you guys enjoy it.

I'm also thanking @anyamaris for giving me the confidence to post my writing and for always taking the time out to read my stuff🖤

A vampire can meet her end in any manner of ways. She might find a sharp object driven through her chest, the bones of her ribcage fractured around her faintly beating heart.

Or she could find herself cast out into the sun for a minute too long where she’d roast fiercely from the inside out until she was nothing more than ash in the wind. 

The list goes on, if only briefly, and every hunter knows these methods like a prayer. But there’s another list. One that only certain hunters hold knowledge of. Not a list of ways to kill a vampire but of ways to make them wish you had.

You had the misfortune of coming across the latter. For you there was no archaic wooden post whittled into a stake, no afternoon spent sunbathing in the park. Locked away in the mausoleum of a dead man you've never met, you’re as alive as you’ve ever been.

Alive but paralyzed by the deprivation of the only two things that made eternity worth living. The taste of blood, warm and sweet on your tongue, and the euphoria of a love whose absence has rotted a hole in your heart. 

100 days you’ve been here, turning to stone like the angelic statues that guard your tomb, and the pain grows impossibly deeper as the next approaches.

But you’ll not have to suffer another night in this hell. You’ll be free, you’ll taste blood again, feel truly alive. Your loves will see to it. 

Standing at 712 ft tall, the Žižkov Television Tower looms above the romantically gothic city of Prague. It’s breathtaking beneath the night sky. Endless miles of beauty in every direction begging to be admired.

Most humans couldn’t dream of ever reaching the heights necessary to indulge but one man’s found himself lucky enough to take it all in. Maybe dangling upside down by your leg doesn’t technically count as luck but it’s all about perception. 

“Please! Just let me go!” the bloodied man begs, the wind cold and sharp as it whips his tears back against his red cheeks. All of the blood’s rushed to his head and his view of the horizon has blurred into something reminiscent of watercolor painting. 

“Let you go?” Hyunjin giggles, perched atop a platform. “That’s a really bad choice of words but okay.”

The dark haired vampire loosens his grip on the man’s ankle, reveling in the cry of desperation that leaves the man’s lips. Hunters are always this way when you catch them. So very pathetic. So weak. 

“Wait! No! No! Please!” the man cries in the split second before his ankle’s secure in Hyunjin’s grasp again. “I don’t know where she is. I swear to God.”

“You swear to god when you lie?” a deep voice questions, unamused with his hypocrisy. “Do you not claim to do his work? And you take his name in vain?” 

Hyunjin looks to the blond haired companion at his side, “Felix, are you telling me you don’t believe the words of this upstanding gentleman?” 

“I’m telling the truth!” the man insists, his nose beginning to snot, turning him into a blubbering mess. “I don’t know where they put her. After we took her…” 

Felix’s eyes pulse a deep, electric red at those last four words. After we took her. “So you took her! Where?” he shouts, his voice near animalistic as he reaches down, grabbing the hunter by the neck. 

It’s dizzying for the man to find himself upright for the first time in what seems to be an eternity but there’s no time to breathe a sigh of relief. Indeed, he can’t breathe at all. Felix’s hand is tight around his neck, crushing his windpipe at a torturously slow pace.

When he saw these creatures cloaked in back, their elegantly sharp features forming in the darkness of his apartment, he knew what they were and what they wanted. Who they wanted. And death inevitably lay before him.

Truth or lies? Would either change his fate? He hasn’t come to decide and there’s little time now for contemplation. 

“You need to calm down” Hyunjin cautions, razor sharp nails drumming against the metal railing. 

“Calm down?” Felix snaps, his fangs glinting in the moonlight, “You heard him. They took her. He took her! Why aren’t you angrier? Or do you even care?” 

In the blink of an eye Hyunjin is on his feet, his hand hovering near Felix’s throat, prepared to choke him the way he does the poor limp man he dangles like a ragdoll. 

“Bad things happen when we let our anger get the best of us and we don’t want that. Do we?” Hyunjin warns through gritted teeth. 

His gaze still locked on the man, Felix’s rage calms barely enough to sense. Hyunjin rests his hand against the porcelain skin of Felix’s neck, violence melting into its own strange form of empathy as he pats it gently.

They came here for the same reason and the success of this, like all they’ve ever done in their afterlife, depends entirely upon their ability not to kill each other. But other people? Well, that’s a different story. 

“One last chance. Where’d you take her?” Hyunjin presses the man, knowing every second spent here is a second wasted. 

With two sets of immortal eyes burning a hole through his very soul, the man makes a decision on his life. A decision he regrets in an instant. 

“Don’t r-remeber” he croaks out.

“Yikes” Hyunjin hisses, disappointed but almost equally excited to finally be rid of this scumbag, “Wrong choice of words yet again. Seems to be your thing.” 

Felix frees the man from his grasp, tossing him out into the night like garbage. It’s been said that when you fall from a building you black out before hitting the ground but there’s much more that happens before that final moment.

A fear so overwhelming you find yourself going borderline insane. Collapsed blood vessels. Rupturing cells. All before you hit the ground and become a piece of abstract art to be washed away in the morning. Messy, messy stuff. 

As the hunter’s screams fade into the distance below, the two vampires are left in an uncomfortable silence heavy with the weight of questions unanswered. They dropped everything to come here, chased down every lead possible, and now their most promising one is hurling towards the ground at 120mph. 

“I know she’s here somewhere” Felix sighs, breaking the silence, “I can feel her. She’s so alone, Hyunjin. She thinks we forgot about her. I can’t let her think that.”

Felix’s voice begins to crack, the heartbreak almost bringing him to tears. 101 days and every single one of them has been like a living hell. Getting closer was supposed to make things better but the closer they get the more the pain clouds their vision, thickening like fog until it’s impossible to see beyond it. 

Hyunjin can only wish for the words that will make this all better. Anything at all to cool the pain searing through their chests. Even with Felix’s eyes almost pleading for him to say something that will make him feel less alone—less like he’s the only one hurting—Hyunjin can’t manage to let the wall down. Building it was all he could do to keep from burning this city to dust and any chance of finding his love right along with it. 

“Right. Why do I bother? Why don’t you go back home, Hyunjin? Go rot with all your paintings. You always did like them better.”

Hyunjin parts his soft, rosy lips to issue another passive threat but, as quiet as his next breath, Felix disappears, abandoning him to a new brand of silence. The kind that leaves Hyunjin’s mind to race uninterrupted, sending memories washing over him so viciously he can’t resist being swept away. 

Painting by moonlight.

Hyunjin has done it countless times in the last 300 years and it never loses its charm. There’s something so romantic about it. So relaxing. Tonight’s hunt had demanded a brutality of him that he seldom likes to reveal but with every stroke of the brush against canvas the beast within him calms, lulled back to sleep by the sound of water rushing from the ornate fountains of the back garden.

The subject of Hyunjin’s painting sits peacefully in the distance. A sprawling English manor that he’s called home for the past 50 years. Despite an external appearance that might have one think people were once beheaded on these grounds by some temperamental tyrant—they likely were—it emanates a sense of warmth from within and the source of it just sped past in a blur of light, nearly knocking his painting over. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” you apologize, stopping to catch your breath. Carefully straightening the canvas back out on the easel, another blur whisks by, knocking you into the grass. 

“Tag! You’re it now!” Felix declares gleefully, his limbs intertwined with yours as you struggle to sit up.

“I can’t be it if you break my back.”

“Your enemies don’t care if they break your back, my little flower” Felix hums, picking blades of grass from your hair. 

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to his painting as he mouths every word that Felix says next. 

“You have to keep your endurance up. Never let anyone get the advantage. Life may seem sweet behind these walls but trust me…”

You let out a giggle at the faces Hyunjin makes as he mimics a dead serious Felix. It isn’t that you don’t take Felix seriously. He’s lived much longer than you have, gone through things you couldn’t imagine. All he wants to do is protect you, it’s more than anyone ever did for you in your mortal life, but sometimes you wish he’d stop worrying. For his own sake. 

Felix frowns, your giggles drawing his attention to Hyunjin. “Are you making fun of me?” 

“Making fun of you?” Hyunjin gasps, crossing his legs. “I’d never make fun of you baby brother.”

“Baby brother? You’re older than me by 5 months!”

Hyunjin grins, never bored with his ability to get under Felix’s skin. “5 months and 26 days. Can’t forget the 26 days.”  

As much as you adore their trademark bickering, the grass is itchy and your back actually hurts. You’re hardly in the mood for this tonight.

Grabbing Felix by the collar, you kiss him before he can take Hyunjin’s bait. You only intend for it to be the faintest peck, just enough to shut him up, but he wastes no time pulling you on top of him and enveloping you in his arms.

The kiss deepens as his fingers massage the fullness of your figure through the plush cotton of your dress. His touch makes any bit of pain you feel melt away, replacing it with a tingling sensation that spreads throughout your entire body.

You forget in this moment that anything else exists in the world. There’s only the feeling of his lips pressed against yours, your hearts matching each other’s rhythm as the heat grows between you. 

Hyunjin can feel it too. Every sensation Felix takes in. It snuffs out his own senses, replacing the feeling of the carved wooden brush in his hand with the sinfully tempting softness of your flesh. He can taste you on his tongue, smell the delicate floral scent of your perfume. It’s everything he wants and nothing he needs right now. 

“I guess I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it. Go hurl myself into the sun or something.”

Hyunjin makes no attempt at hiding his irritation as he walks off, leaving his things behind. 

“Is that jealousy I sense?” you tease, appearing in front of him with an innocent pout on your face. 

He shoos you away,  offended at the accusation that he’d ever waste his energy on such an insignificant human emotion.

“No. Just bored” he lies, attempting to step around you. 

You block his way, placing a hand on each of his cheeks to keep his eyes fixed on you. “You’re both very special to me. I love you and I never want you to get so…bored that you forget that.” 

It’s silly to imply that your love is something he could ever question. There are many things he’s come to question in this world but the day will never come where that’s among them.

No matter how close he finds himself teetering on the edge of that thing called jealousy. Just having you near him, staring at him with stars in your eyes like he’s the center of the universe, is enough to bring him back from it. 

Hyunjin takes you by the waist, pulling you closer and into a kiss much deeper than the last. He has a way of enchanting you so completely that you’d swear you were under a spell. A spell cast on your soul, laced within his kiss, and sealed with the fingertips that trail their way up your spine. If there’s a way to break it may that secret remain buried for the length of eternity. 

“I love you too” he whispers, sending all of the blood from your last meal rushing to your cheeks.

“Good because you…are…it!” You tag him on the shoulder and disappear into the surrounding forest, cloaked by the shadows of the trees.

Felix hops to his feet, knowing Hyunjin’s competitive streak won’t let him sit this one out.  “Do I get a head start?”

Hyunjin laughs, baring his fangs, “Just shut up and run.” 

Felix follows your lead and Hyunjin wastes no time taking off after the two of you. Suspecting that you’ve found yourself a hiding space by now, Hyunjin focuses on who he senses closest to him. Maneuvering through the trees with a graceful swiftness, Hyunjin zones out the symphony of the night to isolate the sound of Felix’s breathing.

Felix has managed to make it imperceptible enough that a less experienced vampire may not know he was breathing at all. Picking up speed, he circles around Felix, slamming into him as he jumps to perch atop a branch.

Felix hits the ground with a thud, rolling through the dirt and into a small pile of leaves. 

“I really have to learn how to fall.”

Hyunjin helps him to his feet but not without rubbing it in. 

“All these years and you still can’t outrun me.” 

Felix shrugs, dusting himself off, “Maybe I just wanted to slow you down.” 

“Betrayal!” Hyunjin gasps, “You’ll pay for this later.” 

He turns to chase after you, determined not to let you get one up on him, but Felix grabs him by the arm, a look of concern painting his face. 

“Do you smell that?” Felix frowns, sniffing the air.

His nostrils are assaulted by the bitter smell of something burning nearby. He takes a few steps back towards the house and the air grows thicker with the scent of wood burning like kindling for a campfire. But it’s more than that. 

Hyunjin picks up on it too, glancing back to spot flames dancing in the windows of the place you call home. Without thinking, they race back through the forest, effortlessly closing the distance between them and the burning manor.

They make it to the backdoor in time to see it engulfed by flames that climb the side of the building, torching the rose vines you spent all summer tending to.

“Stay back here!” Felix shouts, already charting an alternate course into the house, “I’ll go around front and find another way in!”

Hyunjin watches in shock as the windows of the top floor shatter, sending glass cascading to the ground. The way the fire’s burning, it doesn’t make sense. There’s no pattern. No source. Something’s not right. 

And that’s when the true panic sets in. The realization that something’s missing. Someone’s missing.

“Where is she?” he asks, his heart sinking. 

The question stops Felix where he stands and his eyes drifts back to the forest. He may nag you about the need to sharpen your abilities but you’re the most perceptive vampire he’s ever met. If they picked up on the scent of smoke you would’ve too. You’d be here by now. 

A new possibility opens up, turning his stomach. You wouldn’t have gone back into the house. You couldn’t have. He shakes it off, venturing back into the garden to find you.

Hyunjin has the same worry but can’t bring himself to quiet it. Taking a few steps back, he closes his eyes and hurls his body through a first floor window. His body slams against the floor, dislocating his shoulder. The pain is blinding, shooting through his right side like a jolt of electricity. 

Flames roar around him, swallowing up everything he ever held dear and none of it means a thing. There’s only one thing he cares about and he’ll lose himself before he loses you. Crawling to his feet, cuts littering his once perfect face, he calls out to you but is met with only silence. 

Outside Felix has abandoned the garden to search for you in the woods where the only creatures returning his cries are those of the woodlands. They scream for you until their throats are raw. Beg for any sign you’re there until tears sting their eyes and stain their cheeks. Until the flames eat the walls like acid and the forest becomes a black barren sea. 

They search for you, weep for you, but you’re gone—ripped away from them—and the pain they feel now is nothing compared to what’s to come. 

Flowing through the city’s center, the Vltava River is said to be a place where one can find peace. Amongst all the lights and buzzing tourism, this spot on the bridge was supposed to be soothing but, unfortunately for Felix, he can only muster up annoyance and something he’s yet to recognize as a drop of envy. 

Below him private yachts and ferry boats float their way up and down the river. They’re brimming with humans laughing and partying. Their joy permeates everything, giving the city a feeling of lightness that he promptly rejects.

A few months ago he might’ve found this city charming, maybe even smiled at the simple joys humans seem to find in life, but now all that’s beautiful feels tainted. 

“It doesn’t have to be,” a friendly voice reassures him. 

Felix jumps back, startled by the sudden appearance of a young man not much older than he is. Dressed in all black designer clothing from head to toe, he still manages to carry himself with the laid back energy of the type of guy who’s everyone’s best friend. But there’s something off about him and it makes Felix’s skin crawl.

He extends a hand to Felix, a peace offering of sorts before the war has even begun. 

“It doesn’t have to be what?” Felix asks, staring at his hand as if it were laced with poison. 

“Tainted. Darkness and beauty can coexist, yeah?” 

“How’d you…”

The man’s eyes pulse red, answering Felix’s question in an instant. Another vampire? He recognizes that accent. It’s similar to his own. This one’s not from here. 

“I’m from Australia. Name’s Chris. Nice to meet you, Felix.” 

Felix’s skin’s no longer crawling, it’s crawling off.

Chris keeps his hand out, a sugary sweet grin stretched across his lips. He’s immovable and something tells Felix if he doesn’t give in now they’ll be here all night.

He cautiously shakes his hand, trying to assess the vampire’s intentions without giving too much away. Mind reading isn’t a gift all vampires have. It’s a power said to fall to the eldest or craziest amongst them and it’s much too early to say which to file this one under. 

“A vampire who can read minds,” Felix sighs, unimpressed. “I’ve never met one of you before. So is this what you do? Just go digging around in people’s minds without their permission? I already hate it.”

“You’re sassy. I like you” Chris laughs, taking a moment to admire the view. “Too uptight though. It won’t kill you to unwind a little. Take in some of the sights. Ever been to Olšany Cemetery?”

“A vampire hanging at the cemetery?” Felix scoffs, turning back to the river. “A bit cliche, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know. Would you risk being cliche if it meant finding her?”

Felix’s blood runs cold, rage melding with confusion. Chris pats him on the shoulder, a superficial display of familiarity for the blissfully ignorant humans walking by. 

“Probably wanna rip my head off now, hmm? But you can’t” he taunts, “Not in front of all these people and even if you tried to fight me I can assure you that you’d lose and your little Hyunjin would be left all alone in the world again. How depressing.”

Felix grabs him by the wrist, threatening to crush it as he peels his hand away from his shoulder. “What are you talking about?”

Amused by the whole ordeal, Chris sees no reason to hold out. That isn’t why he came here after all.

“In Olšany Cemetery there’s a mausoleum. It’s guarded by two marble angels. An architect’s buried there” he trails off in thought, pretending to forget where he was going with this, “Oh yes, but he’s not there anymore. There’s somebody else.” 

“Somebody like who?” 

Bone should be splintering right now from the force of his fingers contorted around Chris’ wrist but nothing’s happened. It hurts like a pinch from a child, barely enough to bat an eye at, let alone inflict genuine pain. Maybe this vampire isn’t older or crazier than he is. Maybe he’s both.

“The girl you’re searching for. Go there and you’ll find her but be careful…” Chris warns but his words fall on deaf ears as Felix shoves past him, having heard everything he needs to abandon the unpleasantness of this interaction. 

There’s nothing about this stranger that he trusts. In fact, he’s never met anyone he disliked so much so soon but this isn't a lie. There’s no logic for it, no sound reasoning to justify why he’s digging his phone out to find the fastest way to some old cemetery on the edge of the city.

He knows nothing of the vampire’s motives or how, even with his abilities, he knows all that he does. They’re questions whose answers will have to wait until he finds you and nothing in the world, not even his own doubts, can stop him.

“I was just gonna tell you to be careful. She’s not who you think she is anymore” Chris mumbles to himself. “Actually I think she’s something far better.” 

[hongjoongscafe]

Bloody Love...

Chapter: VII-Betrayal-

♠︎Pairing: yandere!king.jungkookxoc(coronis)

♠︎Genre: angst, smut, yandere, gore, dark romance, horror, creepy (dark fantasy).

♠︎Summary: "you happen to be in a world where wrong is right and right is wrong."

♠︎Word count: 3.6k+

♠︎Warning: murder, creepy, blow job, suffocation.

♠︎Note: lemme know if you wanna be added to the permanent or specific taglist!

♠︎Masterpost

♠︎Serieslist.

Questions. They were running in Coronis's head. Was it her fate? Or was it the people who made her life harder every day? The spiralling cycle of life was getting into her head. She felt a cyclone inside her nerves. The thunder in her chest.

They say that after a bad thing, something good happens. However, in her life, there was no word called good ever written even with mistakes, just never. Something in her life was twisted more than what she had realized. She had underestimated everything to the point where thinking for even a breath was heavier than a mountain.

Monsoon arrived. The days looked gloomier and nights looked creepier. Every gust of wind sent tremors down her spine. It felt like those winds were the whisperers who whispered tragedy winding its way to her footsteps.

The roads were muddy and reeked of old blood. The trees were hunched over, looking like ghouls that fed on dead bodies. Everything was covered with a stiff horror of the unspoken stories that were buried deep down in this realm of dead and gone.

All of this horror was doubled when the men who came to see Coronis for tying the knot started to get slaughtered day by day. They were not being hung on the pole but rather left rotting in the meadows and not as intense as the punishments were.

Nori has been acting weirdly. Especially after she visited her home. It was a couple of days later when she caught Edwin at her shack.

~

Coronis was walking back to her shack as the rain was pouring. It was getting stronger as she took each step. Her black straight gown was wet and the skirt was covered in mud halfway. Her pretty belly shoes were squeaking and were unrecognizable. Her kohl was running down her cheeks and her hair was sticking to her face. She tried her best to not let the stuff in her hands get dirty as she struggled to walk through the puddles.

As she reached back to her shack, she saw Nori standing outside, about to leave with a tarpaulin sheet above her head to at least keep her head covered from the unforgiving showers.

As Nori's eyes fell on Coronis, her expression changed and looked panicked. Coronis wanted to stop her and talk to her, however, the girl quickly bid goodbyes to her mother and stumbled away as quickly as she could.

Later that day when Coronis was sitting by the fireplace with a mug of hot chocolate in her hands with her mother who was knitting a sweater for Coronis, the girl asked her mother, “What was Nori doing here?”

Martha looked up with a tiny smile. “She said she was in the market and stopped by. We drank tea and talked a bit and then she left. I asked her to wait longer and meet you but she said she had things to take care of and then left.”

She nodded slowly and took a sip out of her warm drink. “What did you talk about?”

Martha stopped knitting, placed the material in the basket and faced Coronis. She took a second to formulate her words. “Honestly, Coro, she was not alright in my opinion. I have never seen her like the way she was acting today. She was… jittery and uncomfortable if I'm not wrong. But she was polite as ever. Greeted me with warmth and held a decent conversation. Though she kept looking at the door as if waiting for someone,” She said. “And we talked about things and she asked about you!”

Coronis's mind was boggling. “What did she say?”

“She asked about the people in our shack the other day,” she informed.

“And then what did you say?” she pressed further.

“I told her about us wanting to marry you somewhere better. She asked about Edwin and the other boys as well. She seemed to be quite interested in the chat. She wanted to know every single detail and joked about how she could keep one for herself as well. But I don't know, Coronis… I don't feel like she was fine. I think someday, you should go meet her. I don't see her with you as often either. Maybe she just needs a friend to talk to. And I am nowhere near that friend,” Martha shook her head as she thought other things to herself but did not voice them. “Anyway, Edwin will visit tomorrow. So, look prettier.”

~

She had seen Nori around. All the time she looked guilty of something. She would look but never make a move to talk to Coronis and when Coronis would try, she would run away as soon as possible. The situation between them was too intense.

Coronis felt guilty for doing whatever she did. Instead of running away, she could have talked and told Nori what her life had become, or better, shouldn't have tried to get into it. Her selfish motives were the reason why the poor girl was now looking like a long aching soul, running away from what she once found solace in.

She couldn't imagine what Nori was feeling. One day they both were lying in bed, kissing and hugging, and the other day, there was nothing left. The person Nori loved so dearly was not supposed to prepare for marriage and it wasn't even theirs.

It was Coronis and a third person.

How could Coronis even expect her to talk to her when she crushed the blooming flower of love under her feet?

Her teary eyes were looking for answers, silently. Waiting for Coronis to tell her story. But her mind was not ready. Nori knew they were not possible even if Coronis was not getting married because the two girls could never make it together.

Maybe another story was going to be left untold.

As Coronis was stepping closer to her shack, everything started to get quieter and quieter. The day was still young and paths were busy. No way it could be that silent the only thing she could hear was silence and the rain hitting the ground.

The closer she got, she saw people surrounding her shack. The crease between her eyebrows grew deeper as fast as her heart started to beat. She carefully squeezed her way in to see why people were standing there so quietly. Did something happen to her family? No, she pleaded silently as tears brimmed her eyes.

Her feet were met with dirty muddy water mixed with blood. She looked up and saw Draco, Onyx, and Martha standing there now looking at Coronis. A sigh of relief left her trembling lips. But it didn't stay for longer.

Because the moment her eyes fell down, in front of her shack, her heart dropped in her stomach. She couldn't see the face but the Golden curly hair was enough for her to know everything that was needed to know.

The tears in her eyes were pooling to the brim but not a single tear dared to roll down her cheeks. They were stuck there, just like Coronis, in shock. Her pupils shivered as the tremor of horror passed through her body.

The regret was seeping into her soul making her her own villain. Her heart refused to believe otherwise. The selfish mistake was now weighing her down as she fell to her knees. Her breath got stuck in her chest as she saw the lifeless body lying down there with deep slashes out in the open for everyone to see it like a drama.

The blood was still dripping out into the muddy water as the rain mercilessly poured onto his abused body. His skin from where the clothes were torn apart was pale and blue, drained of any blood in his veins.

Coronis crawled towards him. Holding his shoulders, she turned him around and that's when a piercing scream was heard in the crowd. Coronis had no conscience for her actions. She had no idea that the loud, heart-wrenching screams were leaving her mouth.

Her head was empty of any sane thought. The only thing that mattered at the moment was for Edwin to open his pretty gazy eyes and look into her dark orbs and tell her in his own words that it is going to be alright and that he is going to be alright. They will be alright. She wanted him to tell her that all the little dreams they dreamt would come true under the same roof where they were going to begin their new life.

“Why?!” she screamed again. “Why? What did he do?!” she kept repeating. “Please give me back my Edwin! I'll do anything for him. Please give him his life back!” she begged. She cried and cried.

She didn't care about the mud or the rain soaking her. The only thing she kept hearing was her inner voice asking her how much she could be thoughtless and selfish.

How many more dying souls did she need to see before knowing that her single action could lead to some genuine man’s life? Her previous proposals were murdered but they were not morally sane men at all. They deserved worse than what they got.

However, Edwin was a man of words and class. He was a gentleman every woman desired in their life. The way he talked was out of this world. His poetic essence was never enough and the bubble of safe emotion was his walking definition. No one was like him.

Edwin was the shade of the tree on the hottest summer afternoon. His voice was a mellow music in the midst of spring. His eyes were a warm blanket on the coldest winter night. His smile was the twinge of spice in the autumn evening. He was perfect as is. His way of living life was simple and eventful. He craved to make a difference in the world with his kindness. He found the luxuries in the smallest things and cherished them till he could remember them.

He was once a man full of life and now a lifeless Angel. Some evil spirit took his golden wings away and left him dead in the footsteps of his future.

Nobody said a thing. They stayed and listened. Nobody tried to console the hurting being on the ground holding her soon-to-be husband tightly as she held him and cried on his slashed chest.

Coronis looked up as she felt a burning glare piercing her skull. There stood Nori. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks were red. No emotions of love, grief, shock, or any feelings were on her face. She stood there numb and blank looking at Coronis, thinking Lord knows what. She had an almost grim face and her skirt had red splotchy patches as if it was blood. Again, who knows what she has been up to?

Coronis was about to say something to her but stopped when she saw Nori slowly backing out. She took steps backwards and slowly turned around all while looking deep into Coronis's eyes. It felt like hours before she got lost in the crowd.

That was the moment when she knew she messed up.

She was left on the ground, bawling her eyes out, with a man with whom she saw herself smiling and laughing through thick and thin. With the man made out of jewels, his heart now felt like a cold diamond.

And there she realized… she lost…

The rivers of tears stopped and whimpers quietened down. Her face depressed down in misery as the reality of her fate washed over her.

It was she who created these fates of chaos, Coronis was. Her actions became the numbness of one and the death of another.

She looked down at the man and slowly laid her head on his cold, still heart as the acceptance shook her body, trying to not accept but her brain knew better than that.

Love, lust, hate, infatuation… feelings. These are trouble to get into. It felt like all of these emotions burned Coronis like a fire in the forest or perhaps killed her like an overdose of drugs.

Her body trembled like an addict wanting that dose of drug. As if she was possessed by a demon. The catch was that she was indeed an addict and was possessed by a demon of her own. Of the people she killed without knowing.

She was indeed lost…

…

The hands of the maids trembled as if they saw a ghost. Their heads lowered painfully to the point their chins were stuck on their chests as they slowly removed every single piece of clothing from His Highness's body.

The scent of roses and vanilla fogged around them as the water in a gigantic floor bathtub filled with water and milk. The petals of the black rose looked pretty on the milky water.

The last piece of his clothes was gone. There he stood. All naked in his glory. His broad shoulders, tight muscles, hard chest, perfectly carved abs, his biceps looked ripped, and his thick thighs highlighted every hard part.

Along with that, his long, fat cock stood proudly, hard and filled with pride. His thick vein on the underside throbbed harder than a racing heart. His veins were thick and poking out, and his pretty mushroom head looked angry and red in need of it to be touched and abused.

However, his jaw was clenching and a frown was settled between his eyebrows and on the chin. And his brain was going back to the picture of Coronis standing in her shack.

“Jimin-ah,” his hoarse voice echoed in the bath.

Jimin’s eyes met with the back of his Lord. “Yes, my lord?”

“My little birdy was a bad girl,” His Highness shook his head and stepped in front of a kneeling woman. “She was not wearing the necklace I gave her. I asked her to always wear it. How could she not listen to me?” He fisted that woman’s hair and shoved his hard cock down her throat with a hum.

The boy looked at the scene and hesitated before saying something. “Perhaps it was hidden under her dress,” he stuttered.

A scoff left the lord’s mouth. “Hidden under her dress, you say?” He bobbed the head of the woman as if she was a toy. Well, for him she was indeed just a filthy toy. “I could see her fucking breast crease through her black gown and you say ‘Perhaps it was hidden under her dress’” he snapped.

The anger boiled inside his chest. And he let it out on the poor woman who had no choice but to take his cock, trying not to gag at the taste of alcohol that lingered in his precum. He had started to drink more alcohol than before. His sweet taste now turned bitter. Her nails dug into her thighs to keep her going. She felt lightheaded.

Jimin gulped and cleared his throat, “My apologies, my lord… I didn't see her Highness. I was merely guarding you just how you prefer.”

Hearing this, a side smile stretched on The Lord's lips. “No wonder why you are my favourite, Jimin-ah,” he rasped. “You always keep things in your mind and act like a loyal bitch,” he sighed, “if I had an eye for a man, I would fuck your holes and fill them up. But alas! It's not for this life.” He grunted as he fucked her mouth harder and faster. The woman could not breathe properly but she did not say a word knowing well enough what he could do if she did not do what he wanted. She just kept on digging her nails into her thighs. Her eyes started to roll back and black spots blurred her vision. The rest of the women kept their heads hung low. “It's about time I punish her.”

With that, he came down her throat with a grunt and pushed her back. She lay down there unconscious, cum staining her mouth. No one dared to treat the woman but scurried into the bath as he stepped into it.

His Highness rested his back against the warm dark marble and spread his arms. His body relaxed and his muscles loosened. He sighed as the hands of his maids started to clean him. “Do me a favour, Jimin-ah. Call the ministers and the headguards in the court. Tell them I called an emergency court.”

He cracked his neck and relaxed, feeling the hands washing him. And thinking about how he only wanted one pair of hands on him sooner.

“Wait for me, little birdy. Wait for the punishment that is going to come your way…”

…

“Coronis, my love,” Martha called her daughter as she looked outside from her window with a black face but a thousand emotions in those dull eyes.

It had been days since Edwin passed away. Coronis stopped speaking and rarely came out of her slot. She wouldn't eat more than two bites of rice. Her cheeks hollowed out and became paler.

Her long black locks were tangled just like her fate. Her inner turmoil disrupted her sanity. There was none to begin with… one of the things that came with living in this realm— no sanity.

“Can you go out, honey? We are short on some stuff. Can you get it for me?” Martha just wanted her daughter back. She thought maybe if she went outside, she would feel different and at least come out of her slot.

Coronis slowly turned her face towards her mother and looked at her old wrinkly face. Her mother's eyes had a subtle shiver in them. It wouldn't be wise to let her go outside at this age and the muddy roads might make her fall.

She nodded slowly and stood up, brushing her hair a bit back. “What do you want?” she asked.

Martha sighed and let her know the necessities.

Heading out, Coronis walked straight to the shop. Her body swung with each step. Everything was rotten around her. The people, the animals, the village, the houses, herself… everything. Everything was rotten just how she felt inside.

She wondered if she would ever be free from this rotten fate. A scoff bubbled in her throat. She cursed inside and thought how impossible it sounded. Free. Never, that would never happen. It almost sounded humorlessly funny.

From the corner of her eye, she saw someone familiar. She looked to her side and saw Nori going somewhere. “Nori!”

Nori looked and froze for a moment and tried to walk away but Coronis was quick to catch up with her and pull her by her arm. “Nori, please talk to me.”

The girl scrunched up her nose, “what do you want from me, Coronis?”

Coronis flinched at how she spat her name. “Please, just one talk,” the dark-haired girl begged.

Nori sighed and got tugged by Coronis towards a narrow alleyway, away from the people. There she looked at Coronis and how terrible she had become. Her eyes lost hope and were dead.

“Nori, I should have told you everything before,” Coronis whispered.

Nori felt like her blood was boiling. “Tell what? That you were fucking another man while fucking me too?! Is that what you should have told me before?! Are you fucking dumb, Coronis? I loved you and you do this to me,” she raised her voice. She showed no remorse for Coronis's loss or her soundness. However, the feelings washed over her. Her eyes burned with feelings and love she hid behind them. “Why would you do me like this? Hm? How could you fuck around like this, hurting people?” she lowered her voice.

“It is not like that, Nori. I would never do this to you,” she whispered.

“But you did,” Nori said in a barely audible voice and held Coronis's arms. “You broke my heart like it was worth nothing. You- you could have just told me that you liked someone else and I would have been out of your hair,” she sniffed.

Coronis shook her head, “my hands are tied, Nori. I- I’m just a puppet. You see these?” she opened her pale hands and showed her, “These have nothing in them. These lines are handled by someone else and it's not even God.”

“You could have said something,” Nori held her tightly. “I could have loved you a little less.”

“I could have…” Coronis nodded and let her tears fall.

“But you chose to hurt me more…” Nori sadly smiled.

Before Coronis could say something. The clops of the royal horses echoed and slowly came close to the alleyway and stopped at the end.

Coronis’s breath hitched seeing those dark, sharp, and calculating eyes that pierced her soul while staring into her eyes.

The King got down from his horse and slowly stepped forward. Nori looked between the two, not knowing what was going on. But she didn't dare to open her mouth and kept her head lower.

The King stood right in front of Coronis. With the back of his hand, he wiped off the tears and ran his thumb lightly over her lower lip and pulled it down. His hand moved down to her neck and felt around… but nothing.

His sharp eyes snapped back into hers. Under his mask, a deadly smirk formed. “You broke the order, my little birdy,” his voice was deeper and viscous. “You must get punished now.”

Coronis shook her head furiously as she felt shivers of horror travelling her body head to toe. “No,” she whispered. Her body was covered in sweat in no time as she felt her heart picking up pace. It was the feeling that ran over her that this was the end. This was the end of the hope.

“No, my love. You must know what it costs for your actions. For your betrayal.”

…..

Sanaa’s note:

The behaviour of all the characters is visualized.

Taglist:

@veneziamadness @cheline @sansmilkbread @jayb17 @constantlydelulusional @8tinytings @tea4sykes @chimmisbae;

@darkuni63 @mageprincess7 @whipwhoops @ackercute @ane102 @kimseokjinsmirror1233 @unhingedgf @jungkooks21 @namjoonscrabjuice @yluv-damara-13 @jksgirlhere @lavenderymoons @passionandsuga @posionapple24 @blueberry711 @shawtylilsalty @gukiebaby @vantelover07 @douknowbts @andioppsworld @xicanacorpse @ttanniett @koohrs

Have a nice day/night💓

[unholyhelbig]

I for one would not mind more werewolf kate

Title: Once Bitten, Twice the Idiot [6/?]

Summary: After reader is attacked by a strange animal in the woods, her world is flipped upside down. Now she must navigate a new life filled with strangers and myths.

Trigger warnings: Hunting, the actual werewolf transformation, restraints (hands, legs, neck), bloody & Gore, pet names, let me know if I've forgotten anything pls.

[Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six]

[A/n: I was really fucking sad when I wrote this, and for that, I apoloigize. This isn't a gentle chapter, so please read with caution. And as always, I did not proof read].

Main Masterlist | Ao3 | Request Prompts

A rot of leaves coated the forest floor, filling your lungs with an unsettling pungent scent. The world had blurred edges, somehow caving in on itself with each passing second. The trees whizzed past you, an ache that once covered your entire being had ebbed away the faster you ran.

There was such an intoxicating scent that led you blindly. It was floral and sweet and screamed above all the deteriorating vegetation. You’d run so far, so fast and without hesitation. What was that? You needed to sink your teeth into it, to taste it. You would simply die if you didn’t.

It was a girl. Yes. A girl.

She was running too, but not nearly with enough speed as you. She stumbled over fallen logs and branches dug into her skin. They created gashes of dripping red that made you salivate. She was cornered against a fence, fingers curling around the chain link.

You regarded her, taking a moment to register the hot pain in your chest. How far had you followed her? It was ways from home, you knew that much, but none of that seemed to matter. No- because she was right in front of you, and she was captivating.

In your excitement, you took a careful step forward and a small noise escaped her throat. Her eyes were frantic as she took in your hulking and animalistic stature. She was afraid, and part of you was too. Something had led you to her, to this sadistic chase that had cornered you both.

Her blood tasted sweet just like her scent. Your teeth crushed bone, tore through tendons with such a simple ease.

She was yours.

Sweat had soaked through your sheets and clung to your bare legs, even as you shot up and pulled in a helping of air. Your skin buzzed as if it were set ablaze with fever.  The waning moon cast a sickly pale light against the room. Your heart pounded ruthlessly against your chest.

That dream had left you antsy, and horrified. You never remembered your dreams but this one was vivid, almost like it was a memory. The coppery taste made your mouth dry. You were restless, wide awake despite the red numbers on the clock indicating that it was just past 3:00am.

You couldn’t hear anything through the walls that had been doubled down in strength despite your enhanced senses. The house was as good as silent, though you figured it statistically impossible for everyone to be asleep.

The hallway was dark compared to your room, filled with moonlight. You padded a few steps before you stopped in front of Kate’s door. It pained you to be here, begging for some type of comfort. The dream had left you rattled. Afraid.

It was getting closer to the full moon and your thoughts had been plagued with the pain that you’d read about so diligently. Scanning the inked words on a yellowing page was nothing compared to the experience of it all.

Swallowing your pride, you knocked twice, knowing that she could hear you. It took Kate a few moments to untangle herself from her blankets. You could pick up on her stumbling her way across her room until she swung the door open.

The girl tried to be suave, giving you a tired smile as she leaned against her doorframe. Her hair was sleep-worn and springing in various directions. She wore a pair of boxers with little purple arrows against the fabric and a tank top that was riding up enough to expose the smooth expanse of her stomach.

“Hi,” You swallowed the dryness in your throat, pulling your eyes from her muscular frame. Her cheeks were blooming with a fond pinkness. “I couldn’t sleep.”

You didn’t want to admit that you were freezing, that the sweat you’d produced during the odd dream had dried taught against your skin. A shiver worked its way through you, and you crossed your arms over your midsection, trying to preserve what warmth you had left.

Kate lilted her head and stepped to the side without a second thought. She beaconed you into her room. The curtains were drawn, blocking out the light of the moon. Her comforter was drawn back, pillows scattered against her bed. She must have been engulfed in a deep and comfortable sleep, one that you had broken.

It helped, not being able to see the looming structure of the moon. It made you squirm, but the scent that engulfed you, the pure warmth of Kate’s mere presence, calmed your nerves. When she shut the door softly you knew that you were safe with her.

The wolf, that’s what Wanda had called it, knew what it wanted. She said that there was a blind trust that would flow through you with the girl that you’d crawled to and that feeling was only multiplying as the full moon got closer and closer.

“Don’t… say a word.” You turned to her, crossing your arms over your chest.

Despite your warning, she smiled wolfishly at you, lifting both of her hands with an innocent shrug. She looked adorably miffed by exhaustion, and that thought annoyed you more than anything. God, you really should hate her. But she looked so warm, so accepting and every inch of your body was howling for her skin against yours.

Kate settled back into bed and peeled back the duvet with an expectant look on her face. Why were you fighting her so hard? Clearly, you were tired. You’d knocked on her door and you hadn’t done that without reason. If you wanted conversation, you would have found Peter and interrupted his late night gaming.

Or maybe even Natasha who couldn’t sleep, just like you. But you did value your life, just a little bit. So Kate it was, a magnet that drew you in. The more exhausted you got, the harder it was to pull away. And really- she had been trying. Right?

Almost as if on instinct, you took her up on her offer and slid into the encompassing warmth of the duvet. There was the scent of lavender, of freshly washed sheets and the metallic breath that she drew in, almost as if she was just as shocked as you were at the action.

Kate cautiously lowered the blanket and the two of you stared at the little glowing stars on her ceiling. You hadn’t seen them since the fifth grade. America didn’t’ have the deep green celestial patterns, but instead a garden of pulsing orange and purple, and yellow flowers.

You could feel the heat of Kate’s shoulder close to yours. You were so cold, even under the blankets and she seemed like the only source of comfort from the dream that lingered so heavily on your mind.

“Do you think…”

The words died in your throat. She turned her head to face you, and after a few moments of building up the courage you turned your cheek against the pillow too, staring into a cloudy grey stare that was marred with sleep, pockmarked with questions.

“Will I ever be able to see them again?” your voice was pinched with emotion. It was fear, the both of you recognized it. Her eyes glossed over, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth to stop it from trembling. You felt emotion well up in your own chest. “I know things will never be normal again, but do you think there’s a chance?”

Kate swallowed the thickness in her throat, voice barely a whisper. “I do.”

You nodded and dislodged the tears that were fighting for dominance. Kate didn’t’ hesitate to reach up and wipe them away with her gentle touch. Her thumb was calloused, but soft. A whimper escaped you as you leaned into her touch. Kate shivered at the contact herself.

“I get why I’m here and I’m grateful for it. The last thing I want to do…” you trained off, listening to the shuttered sound of her breathing. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, ever.”

“You won’t, y/n.”

The immediacy of her statement brought you comfort. It wasn’t necessarily a reflex, but a belief that she felt deep in her core. You clenched your eyes shut and scooted closer until you felt the full effect of Kate’s presence.

The movements were gentle as you slotted yourself against her, hand laying on her stomach and moving over the softness of her shirt. She held her breath for a moment, instinctively wrapping her arm around you. You pressed your nose against the naïve of her neck, slick with tears of her own.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” She quivered with guilt.

You were starting to understand, against your better judgement, why this had happened. Kate found you for a reason, and that tension, that discomfort, that was your wolf fighting for a way to get to her. And you had.

The tears that wet her shirt, the ones that coated your cheeks, they were those of relief. You curled into Kate, taking in her scent, the two of you gripping onto each other like a vice, eventually drifting towards a fitful sleep, shadowed by stars.

There was no such thing as privacy in a house with eleven people. Not when so many of them had a strict regimen of exercise, and healthy eating. There was a stark difference from life at the dorm where people rarely arose before twelve in the afternoon unless they had class, and even that was a gamble.

Instead, you stirred to the sound of a blender and the hushed voices of an indiscernible conversation. That was followed by a very discernible sound of a cell phone camera. Even without advanced hearing, you clocked it in moments.

A small groan escaped you. It was much too early to wake up. You had never been more comfortable in your life, your nose pressed flush against the crook of Kate’s neck. She shifted in her sleep, pulling you closer with an adorably tiny breath.

“Go away,” she grumbled, the words vibrating against your palm.

 You tightened your grip on the fabric of her shirt. God, it was so bright. They’d pulled the curtains back and the sun was in full force. Despite the comfort, there was no way you’d drift back into sleep. That fact alone was solidified when you bolted up at the clearing of someone’s throat.

An odd hurriedness shot through your spine, forehead knocking against Kate’s chin and leaving a throbbing spot in its wake. The girl that was under you let out another small noise at the back of her throat, rubbing her jaw while depriving the world of her stormy stare.

Natasha Romanoff leaned against the doorframe of Kate’s bedroom. Wanda had been very clear about the rank in the house, and it was of no shock to you that Natasha was pretty high up there. It was why her simple sound of alert had made your entire body tingle. You knew- your wolf knew- that she was in charge, and that she was there for you.

“I checked your room first,” She stated matter-of-factly. “Obviously, you weren’t there.”

Your cheeks reddened at the predicament you’d found yourself in, and the fact that you were sure you’d heard the click of a cell phone camera. It was almost like your parents walking in on a sleepover that got a little too cozy.

Kate sat up groggily, testing her jaw a few times, “Good morning, Nat. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“You can go back to sleep. I’m here for y/n. We’re going on a run.”

The wary look you got from the girl in bed next to you wasn’t exactly easing your nerves. She must have gone through this before, and she would truly object if she thought it was something you couldn’t handle. Instead, her hand found yours under the safety of the duvet and gave your fingers an encouraging squeeze.

You knew better than to object to Natasha, so you followed her orders and changed into the closest thing to workout clothes that you’d packed; a pair of royal blue gym shorts and a t-shirt that was from your last trip to the west coast. Sun, fun, and Sand.

She waited by the edge of the front yard, lifting a perfectly sculpted brow at the shirt, but didn’t say anything in acknowledgment. “We’ll do six miles up, and six miles back.”

“Up?” You squeaked out, finally earning a genuine grin from her. She started to jog ahead of you, and it took you a few moments to register that you were meant to follow her. “Back?”

The two of you kept a steady pace under the heavy hand of the sun. You felt sweat slick the back of your neck, legs screaming out in protest. You weren’t much of a runner, and had admittedly eaten one too many boxes of instant mac and cheese. But your body seemed to mold to the pace with no problem. Your muscles strained for just a moment before relaxing into he burn.

“I’m sure you’ve heard from everyone in the house how they handle a full moon.”

“No, actually,” You panted out, “everyone seems to be keeping their distance.”

“We haven’t had anyone new join our pack for years. Certainly, never this violently. Can you blame them?”

No, you really couldn’t’. They had all been so welcoming and understanding. Even Kate to a certain degree. None of that eased the fear and you figured it wouldn’t’ until you actually lived it, until every single bone in your body rebroke and reshaped until you were this insatiable creature that would seek nothing but blood and carnage. It was inside of you now, you felt it just below the surface, and that terrified you.

Your chest was beginning to burn viciously, but Natasha was showing no intention of slowing down. There was an odd need within you to please her, to make sure that you kept up with her pace despite how hard it was getting as the slight incline became a little less slight.

The woods had thickened around you both and you let out a relieved breath when she trotted to a stop on the dirt trail. The collar of your shirt was damp, and you pulled your arms behind your head to fill your lungs with more sticky air. Natasha smiled fondly at you.

“Kate tapped out about three miles back.”

“This some sort of test?” You asked, working your hand through your hair.

“A test, a tactic. Whatever you want to call it. Some of us believe that if you wear yourself out before a transition, it’ll be less excruciating on the day.”

“I read about that the other day, though, they didn’t use the word excruciating.”

“That’s what it is. Don’t let anyone sugar coat it for you, kid. It’s going to hurt and you’re going to feel every second of it.”

You plopped down on a fallen log, pressing your fingertips to your temples. You clenched your eyes shut and felt your heartbeat pulse through your entire body. Never in a million years would you figure you’d be here. Natasha’s scent strengthened when she gave your shoulder a squeeze, prompting your eyes to open.

She was rimmed in the early morning sun, ringlets of russet hair fell over her shoulders. “Come on, I didn’t make you run all the way out here for the hell of it. I want to show you something.”

Before you could object, she started down the path again, this time in a brisk walk. You let out a groan and hauled yourself off the log. When you got to where she had been, you saw nothing but a thick wall of greenery and wood. Natasha was nowhere in sight.

You closed your eyes and tried to pick up the scent of her, the detergent and the lavender and the sandalwood. Upon your second inhale, you picked up in a general direction and frowned. This was all too surreal, you were physically sniffing out a near-stranger that had led you deep into the woods.

Still, you felt a blind trust as you went off the path and continued to track her down. She was about thirty feet into the woods, standing over a pile of leaves, arms crossed over her chest. You felt yourself warm at the proud half-smile she gave you.

When you reached her, Natasha knelt and pushed back the mix of muck and leaves. It revealed two metal doors that reminded you of a summer you spent with your aunt in Alabama. It was unbelievably hot and muggy, and they had a storm shelter that was carved from the earth, the walls damp and stocked with different canned food, though you had never seen a can opener. You didn’t think to bring it up as the two of you huddled close and listened to the howling wind and rain.

“This was a long-game murder plot all along, wasn’t it?”

“I’m not into the long-game.”

Her words weren’t exactly encouraging. The hinges of the doors screamed loudly from disuse and a musty scent washed cruelly over the both of you. Your nose scrunched and Natasha grimaced but didn’t say a word. An automatic light buzzed on, allowing you to see the opened space below.

It was exactly like the storm cellar, and it’s cool interior was a brief solace from the heat of the day. There was a divide a few steps into the space, a steel wall with a door in the center, sloppily welded but with enough strength to stop a beast the size of a mid-sized Sudan.

This door creaked too, and Natasha let it linger open for a moment, staring softly at you, and then back at the room. There was safety in her stance. You knew that she had the full ability to slam it shut and lock you in, but had a deep realization that she wouldn’t.

Another light was on the ceiling, casting a circle of deep yellow. There was a deep smell of dust and dirt, but there was something hard and metallic under that. Your eyes darted to the chains that were attached to the wall, large iron things that were screwed into extra support.

More than that, were the stretching claw marks that pockmarked the walls. They went deep, past the dirt and into the cement. The pads of your fingers ran over the one closest to you. Each mark stretched further than your touch. Chills shot up to your elbow, a breath lodging itself into your throat.

Your other hand clenched your stomach, digging into your ribs. Something significant had happened here. Several significant things. Tears started to form against your eyes and the worst part was, you had no idea why.

“Those are Steves,” she said quietly, joining you within the confines of the cell, lifting her chin to another set of marks. “And Tonys.”

There were dozens of markings, all different shapes and sizes. Some were digging into the clay walls, and the floors. There were distinct scent markings on each one and you found yourself able to identify ones that belonged to Yelena, and Peter, and even Bruce. They’d all changed here at least once.

Natasha crossed the room and shifted the door until it was only slightly ajar. You straightened up, heart pulling against your throat. The door was minced with deep slashes. You shoved your hands into your pockets to keep them from trembling. They almost ached.

“You feel something, don’t you?”

Words didn’t form, couldn’t. You couldn’t pinpoint the emotion that tore through you. It was akin to longing, but it was more than that. It was like the creature that was so restless within you wanted nothing more than to claw its way out and find the person who had made those marks. They were desperate and sad, and horrifying.

You closed the distance between them and pressed your touch against the deep gashes and fought back a pained cry. You dug your teeth into the back of your free hand to quell it, but a pathetic sound still escaped you.  

“Kate knew that something was wrong a few months before she escaped. She was experienced, knew as much as one could know about their wolf. But there was an unrest”

“She doesn’t like places like this.”

Your words were small. You remembered what she had told you, about how she had turned the first time alone and, in a room very similar to this one. You got the stark impression that she would never want to do something like that again. So, it begs the question of why these marks were so fresh. So fearful.

“No, she doesn’t. They scare her, make her panic before the moon has any effect. But she was conscious enough to know that if she wasn’t here, then she would end up hurting someone. It just proved not to be strong enough of a failsafe.”

Kate had felt an unrest weeks, maybe months, before she had escaped and sunk her teeth into your flesh. A wash of guilt pulled at you. You’d been giving her such a hard time, pestering her and fighting her every step of the way. She’d been in immense pain.

When the pads of your fingers touched the scratches, you felt only a fraction of the longing she must have. Grimacing, you turned away, crossing your arms over your stomach to shield you from the reality of your harshness.

You needed Kate.

“Is this where I’ll be tonight?” You asked, so softly Natasha almost didn’t’ hear it.

She nodded in response, the silence mulling between you both. A small breath escaped you, pained and held within your lungs for an abnormal amount of time. You crossed the room, picked up one of the leaden chains and weighed it against your own strength.

“I can be here with you, if you’d like.” Natasha said, filling the quiet “Or if you’d rather Steve… Wanda.”

You turned to face her, grip tightening on the chain. “Kate?”

“Kate.”

Her eyes were no longer shrouded in their silver, sullen beauty. As the sun began its descent, there was a strange tangerine glow that overtook them. It started at the center of her pupil, small whisps of neon color, and then started to ebb into the confines of her iris.  

You focused on them. If you thought too much about the days leading up to this transformation, then you would work yourself into a panic. You were taking things one at a time today, and that included jogging back to the compound and shyly admitting to Kate that she was the only one you wished to have in your vicinity tonight.

Though, you hadn’t thought much about the logistics. The two of you trapped in a single cell. Yelena had walked all the way out here, keeping a silent eye on the tension that lingered against both of your frames. It wore your stance down, mind racing with the ‘what if’s’.

“Once I close this door, neither of you will be released until daybreak.” Her thick accent carried a sharp edge to it that made this finite. “There is an emergency radio, Kate knows where it is.”

They’d thought of everything, really. Yelena had handed over a sheathe of needles and a small vile that you knew had to be tranquilizer. It smelled acidic and nitrate in nature. Even your rational, human side, cringed away from it.

With a final nod that conveyed good luck, and a strong, ‘I’m rooting for you,’ Yelena exited the cell and slammed the metal door behind her. From there, she retreated, and another lock was put into place after she’d slithered a coil of chain around the outside doors. Your heart picked-up it’s pace, never one for confined spaces.

Kate seemed to hear the uptake and closed the distance between the both of you. One hand found your waist and you allowed her to give it a reassuring squeeze. The other cupped your cheek, guiding your stare. “Hey, listen to me. I know this is scary, but I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

You believed her partially because you had no other choice. Her eyes were mostly orange now, glowing enough to cast a strange shadow against her face. You wondered dumbly if yours would do the same. Something was boiling inside of you, making your entire body sweat. It felt like you were in a sauna, breathing in the hot steam after water was poured listlessly over black coals.

“I’ll talk you through everything, until neither of us can talk. Then we won’t have to.”

“Okay, alright. That sounds good.”

She nodded at you and began to unzip her sweatshirt until the teeth of the zipper released their hold. She was wearing a black sports bra and matching bike shorts, stretchy material that hadn’t set her back too much financially. They would be torn to shreds by the end of the night, regardless.

Kate’s stomach was toned. It was tanned and showed all the stamina of a beast. You tried not to let your eyes linger for too long, tried to ignore the small trail of hair that dipped below her waistband. Despite herself, Kate smiled at you cockily, but moved her hands to your own jacket.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” You swallowed the dry metal taste in your mouth. “I don’t think my fingers will cooperate right now.”

 She let out a small noise in response and pulled your jacket from your shoulders, leaving you in much of the same. She’d promised earlier that the two of you would go out and get clothes that you were more comfortable in, but this suited you just fine. Her pupils dilated, rushing them in more sherbet color. A stuttered breath escaping her and fanning against your bare collarbone.

“What? Oh my god, is it starting?”

You didn’t feel any different, still extremely hot to the touch and a little riled up after getting a look at Kate’s mostly-bare form. Color petaled her cheeks. She was actually blushing. Even in the dim lighting of the cell, that much was clear.

“No, no. You’re just…” She shook her head, trying to clear it “really beautiful, is all.”

“Oh,”

More blush, her eyes slipping down to the floor. “Yeah. I should probably get you secured, though. It’ll be more comfortable to sit.”

You understood exactly what she meant. Your heart was thrumming through your entire body at the compliment, though you both welcomed the distraction of a task. This task was securing locks around your wrists, and your ankles. Large iron things that could stop a lion. They were bolted into cement, digging into the foundation.

You kept your back against the damp wall, allowing Kate to fiddle with the mass of restraints. She fastened the first cuff on your wrist and looked at you expectantly. “Is this too tight? We want it to be a little loose. You’ll fill out when the transformation is done.”

“It’s alright,”

Kate diligently fastened the other three; one more around your opposite wrist, and two around your ankles. The only thing left was a chain that was intended to click smugly around your throat. She stared at it warily, eyes meeting yours.

“This one isn’t comfortable, and after tonight, you won’t need it.” She stated, using her hand to brush a stray hair from your eyes. Something was coiling in your stomach now, an unrest. A parasite that seemed to want to bubble out of your chest. “Your body will be in fight or flight mode. All of your senses will be heightened more than they are now and you’ll want to get out of these.”

“And if I do?”

“If you do, you’ll have to go through me.”

She fastened the chain around your neck, listening for the heady click. Just like the others, she adjusted and pulled on it until she was satisfied with your capture. A slight noise pushed past your lips. It felt like you had a stomachache, a cramping that would send you straight to a heating pad on any other day.

“I know, baby.” She soothed, the pet name slipping past her. She frowned, then lightened her stare. “I know it hurts. I’m right here. I’m with you.”

Her words soothed you. She backed up and sat cross-legged in front of you. There was an admiration of her control. Sweat prickled against her upper lip and at her hairline. It was an indication that you weren’t alone in this. Though, Kate Bishop had more practice, pain was eternal.

“You said I’d have to go through you,” your words were trembling. It took a few moments to force them into existence, but Kate was patient. Your legs and arms were starting to ache, just a dull thrum that reminded you of destroying your muscles to wick them back together again. “What… did you mean?”

Kate smiled and you swore her teeth were pointed at the end. Your vison was starting to blur, and you blinked away tears that dripped from your chin. “We’re not going to fight, or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking. I think our wolves- well, I think they’ll get along just fine.”

“Kate Bishop, are you insinuating something?”

“Me? No. Never.”

She let out a grunt, her hand going to her ribcage. There was a dull pop that jolted through her body and you clenched your eyes shut for a moment. Not wanting to see her in pain. Not wanting to see what was next for you.

You didn’t have to wait long. The pressure started to build in your forearm first, a tight pain that shot from your fingers all the way to your elbow. Almost as if your bone was straining against itself, and it was. The crack and splinter of it threw you off your balance with a dizzying amount of discomfort.

A scream tore through your throat, toes digging into the soft, damp floor. Kate let out another grunt of discomfort, dropping her elbow to the ground. Her chest was heaving, pulling air in greedily before releasing as if she never wanted it in the first place. Her efforts were punctuated by a deep and primal growl that took you back to the night in the forest.

All of your limbs were tightening now, two pops from your ribs and an extra one in your ankle. You were doubled over in a blind torment. Your cheek was pressed to the ground, the scent of dirt filling your senses. There was blood here too, so thick and potent that it was if it gurgled against your own tongue.

“I’m sorry,” you thought you heard her through your own strangled cries of pain. Her voice deep and words miffed by the growing teeth pressing against her gums. “I’m so sorry.”

“Fuck!” You cried out, the last bit of human semblance you could form. Your own words were minced with agonizing cries and a rumble from the center of your chest that sounded anything but human. It was feral. It was hungry.

Your vison pulsed around the edges, darkness creeping in. You shakily lifted your hand, watched as your flesh became shrouded with gore. It was shredded, dark gray fur sprouting over your knuckles as your skin fell away entirely. Once human nails had been replaced by claws, dripping with your own blood and muscle tissue.

They shined as if you had been baptized once more. Teeth- your own teeth, filled your mouth as they were pushed out to welcome new ones. You’d spit them to the ground, relished in the sweet taste of the blood that filled your mouth, only for you to spit again.

There was a howl, one distant that made your entire body stiffen under its command. You weren’t wailing anymore, and neither was Kate. The two of you had silenced, breathed hard and tried to find your bearings. Your collarbone widened, seemed to stretch like the rest of you. The restraints were tightening as you grew. As you changed.

Another howl cut through the air, this time you had the urge to answer with one of your own. At least, that was the last humane thought you had, before everything went black.

[princessanonymous]

Of Trials- Part 2/3 (Ask)

Platonic Yandere Vampire

Previous Part | Next Part

Story Chapter list

Finally another one posted! Y'all, I'm a slow updater,but you best believe I'll update nonetheless. Better late than never. XD

As I said last time, this is from an ask someone sent to me privatly. Once again, you'll need to read the main story, When Night Comes (Linked aboved) to understand this. :)

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Immortal Children were children who had been turned into vampires at a far too young age.  These children, once transformed, became uncontrollable beings, driven by impulses they could not yet understand or manage. Their beauty was unmatched; they were truly irresistible beings fated to remain untouched by the sands of time. Their physical perfection was a double-edged sword, enchanting and deadly in equal measure.

With red eyes that shone like bright fire and smiles that retained an eerie innocence, Immortal Children possessed an almost angelic appearance. This innocent facade belied the dark reality of their existence. Despite their sweet appearance, they carried the same capacity for horrific violence every other vampire had. Their enchanting smiles masked the bloodshed and destruction they were capable of. The problem lay in their inability to control their impulses and the immense danger they posed to both humans and vampires alike. Immortal Children brought chaos wherever they went, leaving a trail of death and suspicion that threatened the secrecy of the vampiric community. Their very existence was a cause of disaster, as their actions could not be predicted or controlled.

The creation of an Immortal Child was considered a crime of the highest order within the vampire world, a transgression with severe penalties for both the sire and the fledgling. It was seen as a reckless act, bringing risks that outweigh the benefits. A crime Dorian had now been accused of.

"We can leave," Killian suggested, pacing around the room frantically. So frantically, in fact, that he didn't notice when his feet reached the wall, and he began to walk up it. Had Dorian not been so preoccupied, he would have commented on the impropriety of such behavior. "You always said you wished to visit Japan again; we should go. I'm sure (Y/n) would find it lovely.”

Dorian wanted to pull his own hair out in frustration. "They will find us," he promised. He was sure of that. "And when they do, no trial shall be held and we will both be made to burn under the deadly sun. You might suffer the same fate, for helping us."

Killian stopped and turned to face Dorian, standing upside down on the ceiling with a look of incredulity. "So you want us to wait until they come to take you both? Have you lost your mind?"

Dorian's eyes burned with a mix of fear and resolve. "I haven't lost my mind, Killian. I'm trying to protect us. Running would only delay the inevitable and draw more suspicion. They have eyes everywhere. Leaving now would be a death sentence."

"So you will let her die?" Killian demanded in outrage. "You turned her, and I won’t allow you to do that to her." Killian had grown to care deeply for (Y/n), just as much as Dorian did. It had taken some time, but he had come to take on a more important role, that of a second father to her.

"Oh, don't you dare accuse me of that!" Dorian's eyes flashed with anger, his voice rising defensively.

"You created this problem!" Killian bit back, pointing a finger at Dorian. "(Y/n) could have had a perfect, happy, and fulfilling life without your interference."

"She would be dead!" Dorian screamed at him, his voice cracking with the intensity of his emotions. "Dead and rotting in the ground, eaten by maggots, larvae, and any other pests wanting a piece of her!"

Killian recoiled slightly, the rawness of Dorian's words hitting him hard. But he quickly composed himself, his own emotions bubbling to the surface. "And instead, she’s trapped in this cursed existence. Is that really any better?"

Dorian's eyes blazed with a mixture of rage and desperation. "I couldn’t just let her go! You don’t understand, when I looked at her for the first time, I just… I just knew she would complete us. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing while she slipped away.”

Then, there was a knock at the door, and they paused, their argument abruptly silenced. Dorian took a deep breath and called out sweetly, "What is it, starshine?" He wondered how long the girl had been standing behind the door, listening to their heated exchange.

The door slowly creaked open, and the girl who was the subject of their worries stepped in. Her red eyes gleamed with an innocence that belied the turmoil surrounding her. She looked between Dorian and Killian, sensing the tension in the room.She had her face scrunched up in an adorable mou that drew a smile on his own face.

"Was it a nightmare?" Asked his now calmer partner.

She shook her head looking frustrated. "You're arguing more than usual.”

Killian agreed with her, sending her an apologetic look. “We apologize, dear. Your father and I have been terribly preoccupied recently.”

"Because of that lady?" she probed further, her keen intelligence shining through.

Dorian shook his head, trying to maintain a calm demeanor. "Why don’t I take you back to your room?" he suggested gently.

"I don’t like her," (Y/n) said, clutching the hem of her nightgown, “She was awfully unpleasant. I don't want to see her again."

Dorian smiled weakly at her, feeling a pang of guilt for having brought her such distress. He planted a gentle kiss on her head. "That is alright. You won’t," he assured her softly.

He walked her to her room in silence, aware that she sensed his restlessness. They had tried to curb her habit of sensing the emotions of everyone around her, but their efforts had never worked. Over time, they had grown accustomed to this small breach of privacy, deciding to simply try to keep their emotions in check, knowing that she was affected by strong emotions. By the way she clutched his hand, trembling slightly, he knew their attempts hadn't quite succeeded.

"I can feel how scared you are," she whispered. "It makes me scared too." 

Dorian's heart ached at her words. He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face. The weight of his emotions was heavy, but he forced himself to remain composed for her sake. As they reached her room, he opened the door, intending to tuck her into her coffin.

But as the door swung open, the metallic scent of blood assaulted his senses, pulling him abruptly back to reality. His only reaction was to raise his eyebrows as he took in the scene before him: a woman's body lay sprawled on the floor, lifeless and drenched in blood. Despite the horror of the sight, a strange sense of resignation settled over him. He felt an astounding lack of surprise as he gazed at the corpse on the floor.

"(Y/n)," Dorian breathed out in defeat, his voice heavy with a mix of relief and frustration.

"Mayella cut herself while cooking today," (Y/n) explained with a shrug as she walked over to the corpse, completely unfazed by the sight. She plopped herself down on her coffin, swinging her legs casually. "I kissed the hurt goodbye."

"Starshine," he began, struggling to keep his voice calm, "you can't just—"

But as he looked into her innocent eyes, he felt his throat close up with a mixture of frustration and despair. It seemed they had tried to teach her better self-control, but it never seemed to stick. Feeding was always at the forefront of her mind, even after she had eaten only a few hours ago.

He looked at her tenderly and laughed wetly.  "You did well," he whispered, hoping she didn't notice the despair that overtook him.

[scarlettriot]

SHE LIT A FIRE • PT 7.5

Pairing: Dad!Kirishima x F!Reader

Contains: Fluff, Aged Up Characters & lots of kisses

Warnings: Swearing, make outs, tooth rotting fluff, I don't wanna tag smut because it really isn't but still Minors and Ageless Blogs DNI just to be on the safe side.

Summary: You and Kiri make this the longest five minutes ever.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Father’s Day Special

Tag List: Will Be In The Comments. If you'd like to be added, message me or comment.

A/N: Hey everyone. I know any update to this fic is long over due and this really isn't much at all but I wanted to give you all something! I hope you enjoy this little snack and that it can hold you over until chapter eight is finished up. I also didn't proof read this so I'm sorry if there are errors...

Word Count: 900ish

It’s a little funny how easy it can be for two people to lose all sense of time. How five minutes quickly becomes ten, pretty soon fifteen, and before either of them can process it, twenty whole minutes have slipped by. You weren’t quite sure how you ended up on the sofa, or when exactly Eijiro pulled you into his lap with the hem of your dress bunching up so you could straddle his thighs with ease. At some point you freed his hair from the tie he had it back in, and he let you slip each button on his dress shirt free too until it hung loose on his wide frame.

You both knew you were tempting fate, living on borrowed time, he should have left by now and gotten home but each time one of you pulled away, the other came crashing back like two magnets that couldn’t be pulled apart. Hands roamed like they were searching for something and yet, they didn’t venture too far. It seemed there were some lines you both knew just couldn’t be crossed this evening despite the wetness that formed between your thighs and the way his cock hardened between his. 

“I don’t wanna go…” He confessed against your neck in between needy kisses. His words were thick and laced with desire that you felt deep in your core. 

You tugged enough on his roots to make him lift his head. “Your parents didn’t plan for a sleepover,” you reminded him softly with a tender kiss to his lips and followed it up with a couple more along his stubbled jawline. “And I’m sure they’ll be worried about you if you’re not home soon.” 

Your palms were pressed against his chest and you chuckled as you felt the sigh before it actually left him. “Yeah, you’re right.” But that didn’t stop him from going in for yet another searing kiss that left you whimpering into his mouth. Each one the two of you shared left you longing for each other even more than before, unsure how that was even possible.

“You know if Remi was at their place–”

“I know you’d stay, Eiji.”

It meant the world to you just to hear him say it though. If he didn’t have obligations that he loved and took so very seriously, you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’d stay with you all night long. Doing whatever you wanted. Not pressing you for a single thing you weren’t ready for. You just knew that was the kind of guy he was. 

“Good,” He murmured, “as long as you know.”

His hands trailed down your body, thumbs grazing your breasts ever so slightly on the way down to your plush hips where he squeezed affectionately, pulling you flush against him for another deep kiss before lifting you up again. 

It had to be now, no matter how much the two of you didn’t want this night to end. “Call me when you’re home safe.” You said as you walked hand in hand to the door and this time when you rose to kiss him it was fully intentional and right on his lips that turned up into a lovable dopey grin when you pulled away. 

“Always, sweets. Oh– turn around f’me would ya?” 

You spun in front of him and his fingers found that zipper once again. He pulled it down nice and slow so you heard each of the teeth coming apart. He kissed your spine as the fabric split in two and stopped just above your tailbone, “so fuckin’ hard t’leave you.” He groaned and turned you back around for a final goodnight kiss that left you breathless and pinned against your doorway. “I’ll call ya soon.” 

“You better! Drive safe!” You called as he walked down the hallway and he waited until your door closed and he heard the lock slide home before calling the elevator. 

As he waited for it to arrive he still wore that child-like grin. And in the metal of the elevator doors, he could see blush still pooled in his cheeks and ran down the column of his neck. 

He swore he could still taste you on his tongue and feel your softness against his palms, gods, he was never gonna forget a single thing about you or about this night. In the seconds that passed waiting for the elevator he found himself dreaming up future dates and nights out with you. Events that were coming up like the gala… maybe Remi could stay with his parents that night–

The downward arrow lit up and a bell chimed the elevator's arrival dragging him from various day dreams but when the doors slid open, Eijiro realized the small space wasn’t completely empty. One man stood inside. Black slacks and shiny shoes, dress shirt still on but he was missing his jacket and tie, and his red eyes under messy blonde hair looked appropriately exhausted when they met Eijiro’s. 

Katsuki’s brows knitted together when he saw just who was waiting on the other side of the doors. “What’re you still doin’ here? You guys left hours ago– oh.” Understanding washed over his best friends  face as he noticed a look of happiness on the man’s face that was so rare he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen it before. “Heh. It’s about fuckin' time.” 

[carmillascrusade]

Of Eden | Larissa Weems x f!reader

Images do not belong to me.

Summary: You stumble upon a clandestine meeting in the forest between robed figures and their enigmatic leader. What happens when she spots you?

Word count: 1,335

A/N: This is going to be a multi chapter fic so this chapter is really just a set up to the other parts. I was also supposed to post this on Christmas Eve lmao.

The earth hummed in discomfort, creatures of the forest cowering in dimly lit corners, fearful of every small noise in the otherwise silence of the night. You stumbled through a thick layer of tri-coloured leaves blanketing the floor, magnificent shades of red and amber unable to be seen properly under the slither of moonlight peaking through the gaps in the canopy. The frigid air was thick with an eerie tension, unease settling deep within your bones as your boots crushed the leaves beneath them.

Soft crunches followed your path as you traversed deeper into the wooded area, trees growing and twisting into sinister shapes the further you progressed.

Stopping in your place, you strained your ears, trying to pick up any sound at all; the usual song of the crickets was not playing tonight. Low chants in a strange, unfamiliar language called out to you, drawing you in like a siren would her prey. The flickering glow of torchlight basked a circular clearing in fiery hues. An alter stood in the centre of twelve hooded figures, archaic runes etched into the sides and top of the stone table.

A thirteenth figure clad in blood red garments emerged from the gloomy shadows, their stature and clothing a stark contrast to the twelve robed in a pure white. With great confidence the person, who you thought to be the leader, strode up to the alter. Reaching into the depths of their robes, a pale hand emerged from the void with a dagger in tow.

Sparkling under the firelight, rubies glimmered against the gold handle of the dagger, like stars shining under the cover of nightfall. Intricate metal work adorned the handle of it, two snakes twisted around each other in a fatal dance. The dagger itself shone under the attention of the moonlight, the metal pure and strong.

Placing the dagger down onto the alter, the red figure slowly pulled back their hood, urging the others to do the same. Platinum hair revealed itself inch by inch, striking features and icy blue eyes only accentuated by the frigid hue of this mysterious woman’s hair. The woman was enigmatic as she stood towering above the others, alluring for reasons unknown. She stood as a clandestine haven, a whispering secret echoing within the garden of Eden, tempting those unfortunate enough to lay their eyes upon her. Tempting you.

Her presence carried the fragrance of unexplored wonders, her gaze tempestuous, holding the secrets of forbidden fruits. The aura she emanated cradled the beauty of a hidden sanctuary, but also elicited the utmost fear you feel when stranded in a place unknown.

She grinned at her companions, or should you say followers? Chills ran through your spine as the hair on your neck stood to attention, her grin unlike anything you had encountered; inhuman and slightly deranged. Yet her eyes were soft, holding copious amounts of wisdom behind them, hinting at the untold stories beneath the surface- stories out of reach.

Encountering the strange gathering in the clearing was akin to stumbling upon an ancient garden, lush and full of promise. Something so surreal and dream-like that you had to be dreaming. But you were not, and where things grow, things rot. The nagging voice in the back of your mind a reminder that something wasn’t right, no matter how enchanting they may seem.

Hidden in the shadows you observed the scene before you, grotesque shadows periodically casting themselves upon the hooded figures before retreating back to depths; the pristine robes void of colour unmarred once more. The air was charged with an energy not known to this world.

A small goat was brought forth, passed to the silver haired woman and placed on the stone table. Your breath caught in your throat as you continued to watch, torn between fleeing or enlightening yourself to secrets unveiled if you stayed hidden.

You were no fool. You knew what was going to happen.

The woman cooed sweet nothings, calming the goat as you would a child. Luring it into a false sense of security before it inevitably reached its fate. You watched in horror as she brought the dagger to the goats neck, swiping in a quick yet efficient motion. Archaic chants grew louder as time ticked on, drowning out every other sound in the wooded area.

You carded through the underbrush as silent as a mouse, desperate to get a closer look at this magnificent woman and her cult, an invisible string pulling you in closer. Closer. Until you were at the end of the tree line, crouched and still hidden, but able to see and hear everything clearly.

The woman stood even taller from this perspective, lithe frame blocking the candlelight, dousing the alter in an inky darkness. She spoke with such passions, such charisma that you couldn’t help but be enraptured by her. Her hands swayed slightly as she spoke, tiptoeing the line between dance and complete stillness. Honeyed words slithered off her tongue in a southern British accent, sweet and tempting.

Your stomach twisted and you knew it was time to flee. Anxiously, your turned around to look for a quick escape route, cautious to turn your back on the cult for more than two seconds. What you weren’t expecting, however, was those icy blue eyes staring into your own from where she stood. Your eyes widened in shock, heart beating so rapidly that you thought it would give out under the stress. Scrambling up from your crouched position, you turned tail and ran back down the path you took to get to the clearing.

You glanced behind your shoulder, eyes wide with fear as a group of six pursued you relentlessly. Their faces obscured by the darkness due to the very little light allowed through the thick canopy. Your footsteps echoes louder, the pounding of your heart matching the rhythm of your steps. The Forrest seemed to be against you, a labyrinth of twists and turns obscuring you way, making it even more difficult to find an escape route.

The menacing presence of the six tailing you grew more intense as they got closer to you. You threw yourself to the floor in a desperate attempt to escape the figure that lunged out to grab you, bony fingers digging into the skin of your ankle. You cried out in anguish, whether that be because of the pain inflicted on you or the fact you had been caught was questionable. Twigs and leaves knotted themselves in your hair, gripping on with such vigour, as you were dragged across the floor.

The hooded figures huffed in as you began to cry softly, bone rattling sobs wracking your body as you trembled, petrified. What was going to happen to you? Were you to be sacrificed just as the goat had been mere moments ago? Your thoughts were cut short as two of the people hauled you up by your shoulders. You marvelled at their strength. Surely it shouldn’t be possible to carry you by your armpits alone. Nevertheless, your wonder was cut short as the dread set in.

You were being taken back to their leader.

You couldn’t breathe, the forest began to spin around you; trees swirling into an array of different patterns, similar to how a kaleidoscope twists and turns to distort real life numerous times. You felt as if you were underwater, your hearing muffled as an invisible weight bore down on your chest. Pushing, pushing, until the weight became too much and breathing became extremely difficult. Panicking at your inability to breathe, your body went into overdrive, breathes coming out short but fast, trying to compensate for the lack of oxygen you were taking in.

The world as you knew it spun to black. Shades of faded grey and other dull hues swarming your vision. The last thing you seeing being those piercing blue eyes, staring into you own, before your body went limp, mind blank as you succumb to familiar hold of darkness.

A/NII: I can’t help but find writing descriptively boring. But I hope you enjoy nonetheless.

[slytherizz]

In the Shadow of Us - Sebastian Sallow x Female!MC/Reader

Summary: Sebastian Sallow has spent the past 5 years rotting in Azkaban.

The only thing keeping him sane; the hate he has for the woman who put him there and the man beyond the wall. Now that same witch, the one he'd once loved, needs Sebastian's help.

Theophilus Harlow has escaped Azkaban. To earn his freedom and get revenge on the man responsible for creating his sister's curse, Sebastian and the Auror must track down the man beyond the wall before he tears the Wizarding World apart.

Tags: Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Forced Proximity, Smut

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, explicit language, angst, seriously angst, Hurt/Comfort

You can find the entire fic on AO3

I can't believe I finally finished my long fic. It's honestly so bittersweet that it's over. I don't know what to do with myself so I thought I'd post the first chapter here.

Part 1 'Whatever it Takes' is not necessary to read Part 2 'In the Shadow of Us'.

Chapter 1

Sebastian listened to the waves crash against the rocky cliffs below, the storms that surrounded the cursed slice of land in the middle of the sea never seemed to rest. The only signs of life, if you could call it life, were the clanking of chains and the muttering from those who’d already lost their minds. The air was always damp, and condensation clung to the walls of his cell. He watched as the water dribbled down from the barred window onto his half rotten mattress on the floor. Sebastian had spent his first month dragging it around to every corner to try and find somewhere it would stay dry but after years, he had given up trying.

He could feel them approaching, feel the coldness, the emptiness. It felt as though a black hole had dragged his soul from his body, as floating rags of a dementor came into view through the bars. A skeletal hand of flesh stretched over bone, clinking along one of the bars. Sebastian brought the blanket he had around his bare feet to starve off the chill, crunching himself into the corner to get as far away as he could. It never worked but he still tried. Every time.

All he could feel was the darkness in his soul rising like water, ready to fill his lungs and drown him. As the tattered robes that hid the monstrous face peered in through the gaps, Sebastian knew there was no point in fighting it, any happiness he had had been lost years ago.

The curse struck her directly in the chest, and she crumpled to the ground screaming in agony. The curse licked at her as she clawed at her skin. Guttural wails of pain echoed off the walls. She was convulsing, so viciously he thought she may swallow her tongue and choke. She was pleading for it to stop; for him to stop.

She was above him, her head thrown back in a raspy gasp of pleasure. She was writhing above him, coming undone under his touch as she was brought to climax. How he’d kissed her, hands fisting possessively into her hair. She’d stroked his cheeks as they came down from their shared ecstasy, her eyes burning into Sebastian. The last time he’d had her, right before she’d turned him in. At the time he’d thought was love. Now he knew it was goodbye.

Sebastian’s throat was raw as he gulped down breaths, the world was slowly coming back into focus. He’d buried his fingernails so far into his palms he could feel the sting where he’d broken the skin. His head was spinning.

“You alright, mate?” rasped a voice from the other side of the wall. Sebastian let out a groan in response and the faceless man behind the wall chuckled. A tinny hollow sound, of a man who knew the hell that Sebastien had just experienced all too well.

“Peachy,” Sebastian groaned, sinking his head back into the mattress. His heart was beating wildly, and his breathing was laboured. He felt cold and empty. He didn’t know at what point she had decided he was too cursed, too broken. But he’d stopped hoping one of them would come for him. Sebastian knew there was nothing left for him outside of these walls.

Sebastian had spent the last five years in Azkaban alongside the voice beyond the wall. Sometimes he wondered if he’d lost his mind and the voice was just in his head. But at some point, he’d stopped caring and the lines became blurred, somewhere between reality and a nightmare.

There was no way to survive in a place like this. It was designed to break, and drag every joy, happiness, pride, comfort out of your soul until there was nothing left. What had once been a fire within him, a passion that had kept Sebastian alive, was now cold. The only embers that burned anywhere in him anymore, keeping him from the brink of insanity was the rage. The hate that crept in. For the woman that let him tear himself apart for her, before turning him in. He traced the tattoo on his wrist. The rage was the only thing he had left, they couldn’t take that from him.

“Tell me about before we got here, mate. You know it’s the only way to keep the fire burning.”

***

Sebastian wakes with a start. His heart is pounding in his chest and his body is damp. Whether this is a cold sweat from the nightmares, or from the rain coming through the bars, he doesn’t know. The differences between the reality and dreams make no difference to him anymore. His reality is a nightmare, regardless.

“You there?” Sebastian rasps into the darkness. He needs to hear the voice, the only constant that keeps a grip on his sanity. He’s met with silence, and the crashing of waves as they beat against the dark monolith. Sebastian presses his ear to the wall, but he hears no scratching, no breathing.

Maybe the owner of the voice had died. Sebastian didn’t know whether to be terrified or jealous. Maybe the voice had been another trick of the dementors this whole time, to ignite a fire of hope in him, giving them more to feed off. Sebastian shook that idea from his head, these kinds of thoughts make people go mad in here.

Sebastian had forgotten the name of the voice long ago. It hadn’t mattered, all that mattered was the stories they told each other. The ones that kept the fire lit.

He told the voice his story of the relic, how he’d killed his uncle trying to save his sister and of the goblins that used that ancient power to curse her. He laid bare the story of the girl that left him to die after he’d torn himself apart to save her.

He knew the voice had been one of Rookwood’s men, but he had chuckled in that hollow tinny way when Sebastian told him how he’d set so many of their camps ablaze.

Sebastian knew this was not a good man beyond the wall. But Sebastian was not a good man either.

Sebastian curled up on the rotten mattress and closed his eyes. Maybe he would be back in the morning. Maybe Sebastian would die in his sleep too, it didn’t sound too bad.

***

Sebastian was sat on the iron chair in the cold windowless room in Azkaban, his hands were shackled, and the chains linked through a loop in the table. The cold metal of the chair stung his skin through the threadbare cotton of his Azkaban robes. Grey and striped, they hung off him, not much more than skin and bone. Sebastian leaned back in his chair the chains clanking and pulling taut when he tried to cross his arms, not enough give in the length. Not long enough to strangle someone, or himself.

He'd been abruptly dragged from his cell this morning, by some of the intimidating wizard guards in the prison. Or was it afternoon. The sky was always different shades of grey here, he never knew the time. Sebastian supposed that was the point.

The door clicked in front of him swinging open and in the doorway stood the last person he ever expected to see. Ever wanted to see.

“Hello Traitor. Long time, no see,” his face stretched into a cruel smile, his voice a little hoarse from disuse. Her face was blank unreadable, lips pulled into a hard line.

“Leave us,” she gestured, to the two guards flanking her. They exchanged a weary glace at each other, but her eyes never left Sebastian. He was doing his best at looking unfazed, stretching out his limbs as far as the chains would allow.

“Ma’am, we aren’t allowed to leave the prisoners alone-, “ the older of the two guards began, keeping a hand on his wand in the holster strapped to his chest, as if expecting Sebastian to strike at any moment. What exactly the man expected Sebastian to do, wandless and chained was a mystery. At least they thought him formidable enough to be capable of daring escape attempt.

“This is a Ministry matter. I have no problem speaking to your superiors. I said leave us,” Sebastian surveyed her for the first time in years. Her hair was pulled back at the temples in two soft braids, just as she had always worn it to battle. Some of the fullness of youth had left her face, where she had once been pretty, she was now striking. But her features were drawn and grave, her eyes guarded. She looked older and Sebastian wondered how his own features may have changed in return.

The pristine scarlet of her robes was the only drop of colour in a lifeless room. Scarlet robes, a gold badge adorned on her chest and a wand holster strapped to her arm. The marks of an Auror. Sebastian let out a low chuckle. Of course, she would have become an Auror whilst he had rotted behind bars.

With a scowl the accompanying guards shared a nervous glace to each other, obviously recognising the malice on Sebastian’s face. She levelled them with a hard look of authority, and they reluctantly shuffled out of the interrogation room, bolting her inside, regarding him as though he were some sort of wild animal that they had just fed, like he could pounce at any moment.

“Sallow,” she acknowledged him for the first time. Her voice sounded the same, but it was colder than he was used to. She took the seat opposite, seeming a lot less worried than the guards had been about proximity to a convicted murderer.

“I presume this isn’t a social call to see an old friend,” Sebastian said, as casually as if he was receiving her for tea. He lounged back in his chair, ignoring the biting chill of the iron into his skin.

“No,” she regarded him, taking note of his relaxed posture, his careful words. She was cautious and assessing, she had none of the fire that Sebastian knew her to have. She may try to hide it behind pristine robes and authority, but Sebastian knew it was there, lurking behind guarded eyes.

“The Ministry needs your help.”

Sebastian laughed a low hollow sound and bit out, “Why the fuck would I ever help you?”

“Because it will buy you your freedom, Sallow,” her voice had a professional, clinical edge, containing none of the fire that he knew her to have. He was laughing a little hysterically now, and briefly thought he must look a bit insane. Good, he thought, let her think that I’ve gone mad, let her think about me and what she’s done. The sound seemed to set his former friend on edge, and she dropped the mask of authority for a moment. Despite her unease he purred. At least he knew he could still get under her skin.

“What would I do with freedom?”, he chortled bitterly, “I have nothing to go back to. No family. No friends. You made certain of that last one. Inside or outside is irrelevant. And you’re the last person I would help.”

“Fine. If not for freedom, for revenge. On the men who cursed your sister.”

“Goblins cursed my sister,” he seethed through his teeth. He hadn’t heard her name aloud in years. Sebastian couldn’t even tell the man beyond the wall. Couldn’t bring himself to say it. He only heard it in his in the waking nightmares the dementors brought. Even all these years later, the mention Anne still put him on edge. Especially from her traitorous mouth.

“No, they didn’t. It was Victor Rookwood. Rookwood is dead but I know you’re familiar with Theophilus Harlow. You’ve shared a wall with him for the last five years. I’m sure you’ve noticed his…absence,” only for a second Sebastian saw something flicker in her, the ghost of that old fire he knew so well. But as quickly as it was there it was gone “Harlow was Rookwood’s right hand man. Particularly for his skills in curse development. He created the curse that Rookwood used on Anne- “

“Keep her name out of your fucking mouth,” Sebastian spat, sitting forward abruptly in his chair and the chained groaned. She didn’t flinch.

“‘Children should be seen and not heard’ Rookwood said those same words to me the night he tried to take my life-”

“You’re fucking lying,” he bit out. Goblins cursed his sister. And she had cursed him.

“Sebastian,” she sighed exasperatedly “just listen to me. Harlow is dangerous. Rookwood may have been the mastermind but Harlow…he’s a sadist. He developed curses using that ancient magic reserve far beyond my understanding. I know you studied Anne’s curse more than anyone, studied your parents work on ancient magic. With Miram and Fig gone along with their research, there’s no one in the ministry with the knowledge of how these reserves work. How Harlow might use them, again. I know you studied your parents work and as the last one to speak to Harlow. They’re willing to offer you freedom, in exchange for your cooperation in tracking him down. I know you remember it, the research. If we can’t stop him, your sister won’t be the last one to suffer.”

Sebastian was silent, and his eyes burned into her as if his gaze could cause her a fraction of the pain he’d been in for the last five years. After five years, she comes to him and has the audacity to ask for his help. There was a man once who lay waiting for her to come for him. But that man had died in Azkaban.

The silence that between them hung like death. Neither of them moved. Sebastian was used to waiting. The scarlet of her robes seemed to taunt him. He’d once envisioned himself wearing those robes. They had planned to do it together. That flicker of rage, the one which was keeping him alive was starting to grow, and the spark was starting to burn. The man behind the wall. The one that had started this. He had cursed his sister and Sebastian in the process. There were only two people to blame for the last five years. The woman across from him and the man beyond the wall. Harlow. How many times they had spoken of revenge. As they had stood on opposite sides of the wall, they now stood on opposite sides of a war. A war that Sebastian would finish.

She looked like she wanted to say something else but hesitated, her lips parted slightly before she thought better of it and pulled them back into a hard line. Finally, she sighed and got to her feet.

Just as she reached out to rap on the door, Sebastian bit out through clenched teeth. “I’ll do it.”

She froze, and turned her back to him slightly, fixing him with a cautious eye.

“But not for you. For Anne.”

[darkdemeter]

𝑺𝑰𝑹𝑬𝑵, 𝑩𝑬 𝑩𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑶 𝑴𝑬

COMING IN 2025 (OFFICIAL RELEASE DATE TO BE DETERMINED, ESTIMATED TEASER/RE-RELEASE CHAPTER SOMETIME IN APRIL. DATES AND COLUMN CONTENT IS SUBJECT TO CHANGES)

A COMPLETED SERIES ↳ Siren, Be Bound to Me will become a full and completed series from beginning to end. There are prior projects that I have either temporarily paused or retired for my own personal reasons as well as to make room in order to commit to this series. "SIREN GENESIS" (PROLOGUE) CHAPTERS ↳ A precursor storyline that explores the dangerously sensual and captivating origin of siren!reader and Captain Barnes that has been briefly mentioned/envisioned through SSBTM's finale chapter. Here is a small excerpt from chapter 1's Siren Genesis:

" -- And who exactly are you?

Why, you’re the Siren Queen’s own blood. The spitting image of her every younger scale, the personification of her commanding melody. A Siren Princess of all the seven seas. Next in line to succeed her mantle and carry on the sea’s eternal song. To evilly sustain balance between the world above as below. 

  Sunlight shines in blotted patterns through the watery veil, shimmering like gems found amidst the sunken merchant ships brought to their end in the heat of oceanic combat. And by the fresh state of the wood, still yet to rot in the salted biome and become overtaken by the reefs, pods of siren scavenge the wreckage in search of gifts for you. 

 You have no need exactly for these trinkets, but today is not just any other day. On the setting eve of today, you will finally initiate yourself amongst your kind with your first hunt. At the now turned age of 121, it is tradition that calls for you to make your first and proper kill. To paint your lips with the crimson paint of his blood and to taste it on your tongue, to lust after it. It is time that you claim your first heart of a man. -- "

ORIGINAL CHAPTER 1 RE-RELEASE WITH BONUS CUT CONTENT + SBBTM ASK SUBMISSIONS AND QUESTIONAIRE ↳ Though many readers were pleased with the quality of writing and the storytelling of the first part for Siren, Be Bound To Me -- (reading those comments have kept me strong and have served as kindling to resurface my passion for this project) -- there was additional content cut out due to the belief that readers would lose interest. This content explored some and smaller details of siren lore within the AU, general (almost slice of pirate life) content and as well as more sexual scenes. + Readers can send through ask submissions for the AU. These can be read and featured as more personal fillers and tied loosely to the actual canon storyline, providing a bit more of a personally curated experience for readers. + Inquiries that readers have about the story, the AU itself and anything else related to SBBTM are free and welcomed to ask in a mini questionnaire fashion. RELEASE OF THE OFFICIAL 2 ENDINGS ↳ The previous "finale" was used as a cut off point and was not the intended ending at all. With the opportunity to finally draw out the tale of Siren, Be Bound To Me to its fuller potential as a series, instead of sticking with one canon ending, there will the 2 official endings that readers can choose from depending on their own experience with the story and furthermore, regard as the other being the alternative. These endings were thought about and roughly noted down at the same time. Unable to choose ONE as the finale and to further provide a bit more agency to readers, the choice to have 2 endings became the plan.

"SIREN, BE BOUND TO ME" TAGLIST IS OPEN/TAG IN ADVANCE AVAILABLE!

Below the cut is a bit of a writer's rant. If you're not here for that then feel free to stop reading here. Thank you so much for tuning in with this update! xx

I am still pretty angry with myself about how the story came to its end. It was abrupt, unfinished, and like many of you - it was not the ending that I wanted. Without getting into the deep nit and grit, my mindset had shifted elsewhere quite negatively and thus affected the quality of both the story and the writing. And that is on me. I made the decision to write something of poor quality than what myself -- as both writer and reader -- as well as other readers deserved.

The story felt rushed, messy and all around it did not have the passion behind it. Each chapter became more of a chore as the saying goes and I lost love and passion for the world that I adore. I won't bore you with the whole BTS stuff, but overall and shortly, Siren, Be Bound To Me was a spiritual and altered revival of a fictional pirate story I wanted to write but never finished. So this fic was to I guess heal that sore wound mostly while also providing readers something that they might potentially enjoy. (I honestly never expected the fic to reach 1k notes. Not even 800 notes). But if you go back and read the first chapter, for me I can see so much love put in behind every word. I can see that I wrote it for myself and others just so happened to adore it just like me.

I guess that is the lesson I am learning. That it should really come down first and foremost to the writer's love for the story and how that's the not-so-secret key to it. I always thought that the whole "write with love" shtick was a bit of cheesy advice. However, I have come to realise that it's true. The moment that I lost that love for this fic, the story went downhill even when I tried to keep the passion for it going. In fact, it faded quicker. And then that fucking cop out of an ending happened because I drained myself and I thought: "Shelf it. Forget about it, it's another broken bottle alongside its unfinished parent. Move on."

So I did. I gave myself some time to write other things, the idea of coming back to it at a later time was a distant "eh, maybe" thought and I'm now circling back around. I'm rereading my work for SBBTM, finding the flaws in it's later chapters and finding again what I loved so much about the original one shot. What world I had in mind for it, how much I loved this pirate aesthetic and how much I anticipated the whole reveal and the ending/s. You might have been able to tell from my author notes how differently I felt too.

It became scary to write honestly because I fell deep into the writing for audiences pool. I was no longer allowing myself to express my ideas fully because I was scared with how it would be received. Quickly gonna say: this isn't a dig at readers or anything! This is solely on me because I let myself fall into that pit and shrunk away from the actual material I was working with. I personally feel like I was taming the the explicit themes that the fic was originally representing.

There have been so many times I wanted to delete those chapters. Still do, but for the meantime I think I'll keep them for legacy sake and perhaps to serve as a reminder to myself what it is I'm trying to achieve, what I'm trying to fix and what it looks like when lose my interest, my love and absolute passion.

Alrighty, I believe that is it for my writer's rant.

If you stuck around to read all of that then wow... for real thank you so much x. I rarely allow myself to rant but I think it was necessary in order to wipe the slate clean and move forward with writing for this fic.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Rising of the moon and the revenant

Frollo x nuns! readers

warning : obsession, manipulation, drinking blood, murder happened (getting rid of a corpse), Frollo is a creep, no use of Y/n, fluff/comfort (as far as you can call it fluff)

Summary : The evening is over the night is here new prayers and the devil have laid on him. He wasn't punished he was promoted he got something he deserved for a long time. Her chaste heart doesn't know what shadow has fallen on her this night. Something that will become her dreadful nightmare.

info : The second chapter of the Frollo mini series i'm glad you liked the first part (thanks for any support) i had fun writing it and hope you enjoy reading it ;)

masterlist

Part.1, Part.3, Part.4, Part.5

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Faith makes you strong. Faith can mean many things: faith in oneself, in one's family and friends, faith in humanity, in the king and queen of the throne. Or faith goes into the writings of the great philosophers who changed the world with their words, the deeds of heroes who made the world hold its breath.

Or it was the belief in heaven and hell in which both God and the devil ruled and reigned. They were places of infinite redemption and infinite pain.

On the clouds dressed in pure white singing with the angels and being at peace or in hell burning in the stages of hell, bleeding and being torn apart by demons, devils and other creatures that overcame human understanding and knowledge. But faith gives and takes. It can give you strength by simply praying or faith can take everything away if you go against God's plans.

But while God seemed to be everywhere in every life he had created, even the earth itself, the devil was all the darker. In the shadows, in the sins, in the sins of the seventh death, in the bodies of whores and drunken men. In the shadows of the streets pervaded by murder and lust.

The cats, bats, wolves and rats dark creatures who obeyed him who obeyed his demons who obeyed a revenant.

Revenants, the once living humans who could not help it until a certain time when they let sin into their hearts. The bite of evil was enough to poison people's hearts and make them scratch the inside of the coffin after their death.

Scratching and screaming could be heard until the revenants were dug up and set free or, better still, left to rot in the ground. But there was always someone who could escape from their coffin, a creature, a monster, a creature that had to be wiped out, a revenant like the ones in the church books. But it was just such a creature that got free, which Paris chose as his hunting ground for a while.

For a world of decades and centuries he saw the construction, the wars, the royal families rise and fall. Until his time came and he grew tired of it all...but there was one last thing he wanted to do.

He wanted a successor, he wanted a monster, a creature that would carry on his deeds with even greater bloodlust. A bloodlust that he had found in someone who would not be more perfect.

The judge Claude Frollo, a man of power and duty for the entire city. But above all, it was a man who represented the other side of his coin. He was the side of the living and the monster was the side of the dead.

He had been given many names, but when he gave him the kiss of death, his teeth drew blood and the poison of his own blood spilled into his youth, it was done and the dark shadows continued to move across the lands.

But now he had it, Frollo had it all back, he had life, he had strength and he had power. More power than he could ever have.

This bite of his faith that had been his back then when he had taken Quasimodo in because he was in awe of God, of the holy ones and still had something on the word of the Archdeacon. But now, when he had tasted the blood after coming home, something was completely different.

It was more aromatic and more intense than any alcohol or food he had ever tasted. Everything seemed more intense, the creaking of the wooden floorboards of his house all the louder, the sounds of the night ringing in his ears and his own voice strange.

It was unusual, like waking up from a trance after satisfying his bloodlust. ,,What fascinating powers the devil can give," he murmured and wanted to look at himself in the mirror in his room to see if he looked like the creature himself, but instead he backed away.

The mirror, the large gilded mirror, didn't show him...or didn't seem to show an image. Putting his hand to the cool material he saw only what his eyes saw he could look down and see that he was not a mass of bats but perhaps it was time, the record of the revenants was old but he must still have it somewhere.

,,Like years before by the power of blood" he whispered his thoughts to himself as he saw how he didn't look the same as two decades ago but the traces of age seemed to fade slightly as he searched through the books in the private library.

His eyes flew over the pages at a speed that almost made him dizzy everything seemed different and yet pleasantly different. It was the gift of the devil, the demon who had heard his prayers and voices...he had heard his demands for her.

His beloved, his nun, his one and only, whom he had craved and wanted ever since he had laid his eyes on her. It was natural that someone so good as he had been doing his duties and his job as judge of the city for decades was rewarded with things beyond materialistic coins and other objects.

It was his reward from the god of the underworld, the hell that controlled everything dark and negative, who heard him because God was already in his heart. ,,He wants me to bring you to me, to ruin your sins," he wandered on with his thoughts, not realizing how he was almost effortlessly emerging into the shadows of his house without realizing it.

It was a power he had yet to realize, a power he had yet to harness, a power he had yet to use after he had gained it through work and his righteousness. He continued to teleport through the house in the dark until the cold smell hit his nose.

The stable boy. He had killed him just as the Judge saw it as he walked out of his house into the shadows still not quite sure what his power was but when he saw the bath the body parts scattered in the straw and the dark red looking black without the moonlight he wrinkled his nose at the smell of what he had done. Well, I'll take care of that later, he thought, but left Snowbald in the stable and let his hand wander over the animal.

The stallion was warm and full of life he listened to the quiet heartbeat even though Snowbaldd realized that something was wrong and nudged him which made Frollo smile, ,,You felt it, didn't you?" he asked the animal who just snorted and waited to see if an owner would come up. But why go up at night when he could do something much better, when he could do what he could only do during the day...he could finally get to her.

Turning away from his house, he looked around him, his neighborhood was a little further away from the common people anyway, from the rich only a few streets away, he was relatively alone. No one would see him, not even if he walked with the darkness, he knew exactly where he had to go. Where she lived. Where she slept.

Focusing on her location and a blink of an eye later he found her in the darkness neither it seemed like a simple shift but it was longer but before you realize it and the tingle appeared it was over. ,,Fascinating," he murmured and continued through the darkness, running and teleporting further and further, spared even by the light of the moon.

He was the darkness, he was the horror, he was now the evil Paris had to fear and he would use his new power to get it. His figure flitted through the night, sneaking from the streets to the alleys and houses until he arrived at the attic apartment below, where there was a flower store, pretty and colorful by day and dark by night. But he knew that she lived upstairs under the roof with the iron balcony that gave her a view of the cathedral.

Standing below, he concentrated on the balcony, knowing that he was coming up there. Concentrating again on the dark, he dissolved for a moment into the dark shadows and arrived at the top of the balcony. Looking behind him, he had to suppress a grin as he realized how strong he was, how good he would be, how powerful he was.

But his attention went to the room when he heard her heartbeat he was quiet she seemed to be sleeping maybe dreaming but most of all he didn't notice her when he went into her room and emerged from the darkness behind her curtains. ,,So innocent...blood-rich...heartfelt...so desired" Frollo mumbled as he saw her nun's robe folded on the chair but not the rosary that went to her bed a simple but sufficient for her he saw that she was holding something under the covers.

She was lying on her side, her eyes closed and her hair visible, which was usually hidden under the dark fabric. Feeling this newness in him, he wanted her even more than before, this time he wanted her completely from her body to her mind to her blood and her soul. He wanted her completely for himself.

Leaning over her, he placed his deathly cold hand on her cheek for the first time. He touched an angel for the first time, he seemed to feel the holy scripture, what he always wanted.

He had faith in his hand, the heaven he prayed for, he had her. Moving over her cheek he slowly traced the shape of her lips came closer to her his body moved to her bed quietly inaudible.

She slept in her sweet head, probably things were going on that would soon be filled by him. She smelled sweet not surrounded by incense or the scent of wax from the candles, no old beeb sides no she smelled sweet when she was not surrounded by the house of god. It was a sweet smell that radiated from her heart.

It was beguilingly captivating and he wanted it he seemed to want to hold it in his hands felt his fangs forming like when he had attacked the stable boy.

He could have her here and now, he could take her here and now, and yet as he came closer to her neck his hand held her even if she was asleep and didn't notice him, he wouldn't allow a disturbance. It would be easy to take her, to bite her, to drink the sweetness that attracted him next to her.

He came closer to her neck, his teeth scraping the skin, drawing blood slightly, but then he felt a sting. His hand, which had lifted the blanket, revealed her beautiful body adorned with a light white nightgown.

Her body so accessible he would have wanted to know when she was standing how she looked moving slightly back and forth in the moonlight when the wind blew around her.

But as beautiful as she was, the feel in his hand as he gripped her hand was real, it was something like it reminded him of his old life as if he had lived in this new existence forever.

Incredulous, he pulled himself back into the shadowed window and looked down at his hand in disbelief, a burn mark was visible but already healing. The rosary flashed through his mind as he approached her again and saw with a consumed smile that bared his sweet teeth that he was healing away from her.

In her hand was the rose cross, his gift of holiness before he engaged with the devil, it was pure irony. ,,You didn't know, dear?" he asked the sleeping woman and let his hands wander over her body once more, coming closer to her but shaking himself from the rosary, it was uncomfortable, it still seemed to burn slightly but it taught him lessons like a little boy, he had to start to understand it all.

Before he left her with a kiss on her lips, holding back his desire and unable to taste it, he would. He disappeared from her room, the street and the houses and went back to his own house.

He disappeared from the dark into his home again and spent the last hours of the night reading and writing things down in books and writings.

The hours went by and it seemed as if everything was passing all the more quickly, as if all life was passing all the more quickly. He was still lying in his room when the rooster's cry and the people's voices slowly became louder and more present.

,,The people are waking up again without knowing what has happened," he murmured as he looked out, his eyes having to adjust a little to the brightness, but as he held his hand in the light, not knowing whether it would burn or crumble to dust, it was extinguishable.

It was much warmer than usual on a late spring day but he could stand it as he didn't have to go outside that often. But something came to his mind when he saw the town guards patrolling and taking up their positions again, the stable boy.

The light one who happened to be lying brutally murdered with him, ,,It's a tragedy such a young life someone must be held responsible...search the wagons of the traveling people, search the bars and strengthen the guards in the poor parts of the city...I want honesty!" he told the commander of the city guard and saw that the blond felt sorry and uncomfortable as they stood in front of the judge's stable.

Froll had waited a few moments before running to the guard post, out of breath and shaken, he had told them what had happened, fearing for himself and his horse that someone was after him.

It was a simple matter for the guard to take the body and only a few hours later his stable looked like a new stable boy had been found and Phoebus was dealing with the case.

Once again his position of power proved to bring him more than just influence it was his control over the entire city. But he didn't have control over it much to his chagrin because after still having to deal with all the paperwork of his job he got on Snowball and rode to the church knowing she was gone knowing she came to the church from her job at the orphanage to help out where she could.

The church he called into his head on the stairs it was only hours ago was almost unbelievable if he didn't feel the bites himself. As he left Snowball and stepped into the church, a shudder came over him.

It was fear, discomfort and danger that told him he shouldn't be here it was completely different and yet....there she stood by the candles feeling them so that the people could mourn their dead.

He walked over to her, leaning on the benches and pillars every now and then when his body stopped in fear, the gazes of the angels and holy figures seemed to judge him. It was a shock, but she was his angel when he came to her, she revealed herself to him and came over to him.

But as soon as he came to him, he saw her wearing a second layer of fabric around her neck, ,,Good morning my dear, I hope you slept well...if I may, you look a little tired," he said and pointed to the bench to sit down, which she did, folding her hands in her lap.

He saw her pondering as her gaze went over the colors and finally to him, even though she always lowered her gaze, almost not noticing how formal and from she was.

Before she finally admitted, ,,Yes, I had a nightmare, nothing serious it seemed like shadows were plaguing me," she admitted and clasped her rosary that hung around her neck tighter around the expensive materials and prayed in silence.

It was the same tool that healed him from her and perhaps this was good for a moment, ,,I think the food at my place will give you a good night's sleep, can I expect you tonight?" he asked and slowly rose from the bench again, not only did he feel the fear leave him but his desire for his new food was gone and he had to strike again.

He saw the young nun stand up, let go of her rosary and move slightly, answering him with a ,,I'll be there at eight o'clock, Judge Frollo." She set a time that suited him, so he had plenty of time to prepare everything and feast on a new victim, blaming it on another accident or fugitive.

He turned away with a nod and said to her last, ,,Shadows are only shadows my dear they always surround us" before he left her back in the church and hurried out of the sacred building faster than he wanted to and was glad to be back with Snowbald on whom he mounted and took the reins.

The sun is getting too hot, he thought and ran his hand over his forehead as he looked up at the sky and steered his stallion back towards his house.

His new body had advantages, very good advantages, advantages that made him even more of what he was meant to be. The judge of the world a world full of sins.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@oceansrose2002 , @aliensthegreat , @siwucha , @sweet-lil-truffla

[kitthepurplepotato]

Chapter 17 (The End) - Forever and after.

Summary: Aizawa sensei shares his thoughts with his old class. Y/N decides on her hero name. Steven the pigeon reveals their big secret.

This is the last official chapter of this series. (except the extra I’ll eventually post.) This potato is really emotional.

Warnings: There is one really small sex scene in there but there is a warning by the beginning and a note at the end! Otherwise, swear words.

First Chapter Master List

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“Problem child.” The sensei, whose name is Aizawa by the way, Katsuki’s old homeroom teacher - sighs dramatically as he pinches his nose to calm himself. “I’m really sorry for my language, but what the actual fuck was that?!”

The whole gang gawks.

You heard it right; the whole gang is here to listen to the evaluation.

It’s actually quite cute; Midoriya, Todoroki and you are sitting in the middle of the battlefield while the others are scattered around the sides, basically having a picnic while they are listening to their old sensei’s wise words. They have brownies. Like fuck them, how dare they eat that shit in front of you?! It’s not like you can just go over and have a few in the middle of the sensei’s speech!

Katsuki somehow senses your inner turmoil; he’s also sitting on the side but he’s sitting quite close to you, close enough to cheekily hand you a beautiful piece, a chunky one full of chocolate bits. You look at him like he’s the fucking savior of the whole world and he can barely conceal his beautiful smile as he looks at you sneakily taking a bite of the desert while Aizawa speaks.

“Sensei, I…” Midoriya starts to mutter right away, completely ashamed of himself but Aizawa doesn’t let him finish his sentence.

“I know this wasn’t a serious fight. I know there was nothing at stake for you. But I also know that not being able to keep your feelings at bay was one of your biggest flaws when you were just a student and seeing you make such a mistake even if it’s just mock battle is really concerning.” He sighs and moves towards Todoroki. “On the other hand, I am absolutely impressed with you, Todoroki. If someone had all the right to loose their composure during this fight, it was you, yet you turned your trauma upside down and made it into a challenge, you broke out of your cage and finished the job. Not a lot of people can do that. Well done.”

“Sorry to interrupt and I know I have no right to ask this, but… what have I done exactly?” You ask Todoroki sheepishly. For your surprise, he answers you with a straight poker face.

“My older brother was born with a body that was sensitive to fire. He burned to death in a forest due to his own quirk when he was a kid then came back to life a few years after, killed several people out of spite, almost killed my whole family and now he’s rotting in Tartarus.”

“How did she not know that?” Present Mic chimes in from the side, still chewing on a piece of brownie.

“She’s a foreigner, why would she fucking know that?!” Katsuki comes to your rescue but gets shushed by Kirishima.

“Once the war was over no one even talked about that shit anymore. They had better things to do, like… rebuilding the whole fucking country. Staying alive without a roof above their heads. The Todoroki drama was the least of their concern.” Mina also chimes in.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… make you go through that. And I would never do such a cruel thing to you on purpose, I hope you know that.”

Instead of answering, Todoroki gives you a small smile and as you said before, Pro Hero Shouto is a real treasure of a man underneath his resting bitch face.

“Now back to Y/N… I really don’t know what to say.” Aizawa ignores the emotional mood and goes back to the topic at hand. “You are a power to recon with anyway but you are also clever, quick and efficient. If that’s not enough you also have a kind heart; you stopped in the middle of the fight and changed your strategy to keep the battle less emotionally straining on the other person. That could have been a big disadvantage but you still came out victorious. If you can do at least 10% of what you just did today, you are more than capable to fight alongside our top heroes. Actually, they should be happy to have you because with you in your team, they’ll be indestructible. You can take any roles in a team, support, front, back, healing… you are a wild card, Y/N.”

“Now you just need to choose a new, cool hero name!” Mina looks at you with a proud smile. “Or you can keep your original one! That’s cool too!”

“Nah, fuck my old persona.” You smile, deep in thought. “I know what I want to be called.”

“You have a name already?” Katsuki scoots closer to you. “What is it?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” You look into your boyfriend’s eyes lovingly. “I’m The Menace.”

~•💥•~

Warning: cheeky sexy time (really short)

“The Menace?! Really?!” Katsuki thrusts into you relentlessly. “That’s my nickname for you. Mine.”

“If this is suppose to be a punishment, you are doing a really shitty job… oh my god, Katsuki!” You almost scream as he finds that perfect spot and pounds into it several more times. You see stars. Literally. Oh fuck, this is amazing.

“I’ll… uhm… ahh, fuck, just like that… tell everyone it’s your… katshmf… idea. Jesus, I love you.”

All it takes after this is one of Katsuki’s childish giggles right by your ear; you come with Katsuki’s name on your lips, for the third time today.

“Yeah, tell everyone you are mine. Let them all be jealous. Jesus I’ll never get bored of your stupid face when you look all blissed out like that. Fuck, I’m… ahhh…”

“Did you just come from my stupid blissed out face? Again?” You giggle as Katsuki falls on your chest like a sack of potatoes.

“It works every time.”

Cheekiness over!

~•💥•~

“Fucking hell, Steven!” Katsuki yells on a Sunday morning. It’s barely 6AM. “What is this mess?!”

Katsuki has been a bit aggravated by his “flatmate” for the last few days. He’s been bringing all kind of random shit to Katsuki’s balcony and spent a lot of time hiding inside his little house. He doesn’t look sick or anything, so there is nothing to worry about but somehow, Steven’s laziness really irks him.

“Katsuki, shut the fuck up, it’s too soon for your annoying whining!” You yell back, just as loud because… well… yelling at each other kinda became your love language in the past few weeks. Oh, also! You are officially living at Katsuki’s place now. You had a little bit of a fight about how much furniture you can bring over because Katsuki is an absolute maniac when it comes to cleanliness and minimalism but eventually you managed to compromise with him to be able to have enough space for your stuff without making the flat look too lived in.

“Come and take a fucking look and tell me I’m overreacting!” You can see Katsuki pointing at the bird house dramatically with both arms through the window and you can’t help but laugh at how adorable he is sometimes.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming!” You giggle to yourself as you begrudgingly leave the warm bed to investigate the situation.

Indeed, there are twigs poking out of the opening of the bird house. There are some leaves as well, all scattered without any kind of logic behind them, leaving the place look messy and untidy and we all know Katsuki hates both of these things with passion.

Okay, you can kinda understand that though; this mess makes no sense at all . It’s just a few sticks thrown into the hole. He certainly can do better.

“Get out, you lazy fuck, I’ll clean the shit out of this house. I can not, I repeat, I can NOT live in the same building as this mess. No.”

While you are certain Steven can not understand human language and he’s quite used to Katsuki’s yelling at this point, once Katsuki touches a single twig in the house Steven makes a terrified noise that makes Katsuki jump back a few steps. For your surprise, Steven doesn’t try to leave the house at all; he’s laying on the twigs, trying to cover as much of it as he can with his little body.

“The fuck?!”

“I’ll use x-ray vision.” You mumble with a serious face and the whole situation feels like a mission now. Katsuki is silent, nudging you to do your thing, concentrating on the house as though he could also see through it if he tries hard enough. And maybe… he can.

“Don’t freak out.” You mumble under your nose and concentrate on Katsuki; he jumps back another few steps as his vision changes into an X-ray one. “How…?!”

“Quirk sharing. I just came up with it.” You grin at him and the amount of adoration on the blond’s face says more than a thousand words.

“I’ll marry the shit out of you one day.” Is all Katsuki says as he comes closer to Steven’s home to investigate it in detail. “There is something roundish under him. Looks like…”

Haha, uhm, wait a fucking minute.

“Katsuki, that a fucking egg. And if you look through Steven’s body with my quirk… there is another one on the way out.”

This… is a groundbreaking revelation.

Why?

Because even though Steven was a part of this family for more than a year, none of you realized that Steven… is actually a girl.

“We are grandparents, Y/N. What the fuck. And Steven is a fucking girl.”

Katsuki looks broken. Genuinely fucking broken.

“Okay, honey, let’s go back to bed.” You tap the blond’s back a few times supportively as you usher him away from the poor pigeon. “Let him… I mean her… finish her thing.”

“I should have had a sex talk with her.” Katsuki mutters under his nose. “It’s my fault. I’m a terrible father.”

“She’s a fucking pigeon, Kats.”

“Should we call her Stephanie now?”

Oh boy.

“I genuinely don’t think she’ll mind being called Steven.” You sigh as you pull the covers over his shivering body.

“Calling her on her deadname is really fucking rude. Even I know that.”

You have no heart to tell him off again, so you just sigh and cuddle up next to him; Katsuki puts his arms around you and pulls you close right away, basking in the warmth your bodies generate together.

“Sure, honey. Let’s call her Stephanie.”

Katsuki called over all his friends over for a “baby shower” that day. The confusion on their faces when Katsuki led them to the bird house was worth every penny.

~•💥•~

“I’m so glad to finally have a chance to interview you, pro hero Menace!” The interviewer, Misaki, says with a smile. Katsuki’s office is set up with several lights and cameras now. There is also a microphone hanging in the air right above you. This is it. Your first ever interview in Japan. Damn. ”It has been a few weeks since you started working alongside our top heroes but this is the first time you actually agreed to do an interview. Was there a reason behind that?”

“Uhm… yeah.” You mumble with a shy smile. “I wanted people to respect me for my work and not for my personal traits as I do feel like there are a lot of heroes being over-idolized or misinterpreted and judged because of their character. We also live in a world where looks and certain family names mean more than the work behind the person and I did not want to be a hero like that.”

You can see Katsuki smiling proudly by the door as you continue your rambling. It has been ages since you did an interview and needless to say you are extremely scared to say something inappropriate but Katsuki made sure the place you say yes to is the most trustworthy one in the country.

“That’s… true.” She admits sheepishly. ”I know you can’t say too much about about your quirk for obvious reasons and I also got the memo that you would not like to talk about your past so I’m not going to lie, I had a hard time coming up with appropriate questions so I asked the public! The most asked question was about your hero name.”

“Oh, yes.” You giggle as you make an eye contact with your boyfriend. “The name itself isn’t too hero-like, I’m aware of it, and I would really like to say that there is a deep meaning behind it like being a nuisance to all the villains as they can’t escape from me yaadayaada but the truth is… The Menace is a nickname my partner used to call me before we got together. I wanted to use this name because I wouldn’t be a hero right now if it’s not for him. I wanted him to be a part of my brand in some way.”

You can see the utter surprise on the lady’s face and you can’t help the grin blooming on your face as she asks her next question.

“Uhm… wow. That’s really… cute? Is it okay if I ask what kind of person is he? Or she?”

“Hmm…” You give the lady another manic grin. You can’t wait to see her face when you drop a name. Oh my god, this will be hilarious. “He’s… really caring, super sweet, always by my side. He comes off as really abrasive at the first glance, but behind all the fake rudeness he’s just… the perfect, loving boyfriend kinda guy.” You are quite sure your whole face looks lovesick as fuck right now, but hell if you care. Katsuki’s face is so hot you could cook an egg on it. You are a little bit disappointed that you can’t try that out. “He makes me a caramel latte every morning even though he hates sweet stuff. He’s an amazing cook. He’s handsome. Good at everything. Kicks an ass with such confidence I want to kiss him after every mission and to be honest? I do kiss him after every mission.” You giggle with a red face. The lady is blushing vehemently but she can’t hide the little smile on her face.

“You are really lucky! I want to have that too!” She sighs. “The other frequent question was… you work really closely with Dynamight and Red Riot. How close are you to the two? I can see both of them lurking in the hallway, so I guess that’s an answer itself but…” Misaki mutters, scratching her head shyly.

“Red Riot is one of my best friends. He also helps me a lot with training and we have dinners together at my place. And that guy there…” You point at the blonde poking his head into the office - You don’t need to tell him to come in because he knows what you want anyway. He plops his little butt down next to you, arms stretching behind you on the sofa flirtatiously. The lady blushes right away.

“… is the guy who first called her a Menace.” Katsuki grins, his face right in your personal space.

“… is the love of my life. And an asshole. That’s what he is.” You leave a tiny peck on your boyfriend’s lips who can’t help but beam under your praise. The lady chokes on her saliva. You are quite sure this is the the first time anyone have ever seen Katsuki smiling and you are quite sure the internet will be full of screenshots by tomorrow because Katsuki is a handsome guy even when he’s grumpy but when he smiles… he looks downright sinful.

“So to everyone who’s watching this thinking about approaching her in any way… don’t. Unless you want to die.”

“Katsuki…” You giggle and suddenly, Misaki jumps off her chair and starts walking in circles.

“Oh my god, I’m totally gonna get promoted. Oh my god, this is happening. Oh my god, they are so fucking cute why can’t I have what they have, I’ll die alone with my five cats.”

“Would you like a tea, miss?” Eijirou comes in with a tray full of different tea types. “I know, it’s a lot to take in but… let’s finish this interview, yeah? We have a meeting in 15 minutes.” He smiles, barely concealing his shit eating grin as he stares at the dumbstruck, distressed lady.

“We also have a pet, you know. Her name is Stephanie. Her name was Steven before but then we realized he’s a she…”

“Yes.” Katsuki adds. “We also have two grandchildren from her. They are fucking ugly but we love them. I named them Deku and Shouto because they look the same.”

“No, their name is Deku and Kacchan because you were an ugly fucking baby like them.” You retort angrily. “We had a deal, Katsuki!”

“Fuck your deal! And I wasn’t ugly! I was just… done with life!”

“You were one day old!” You yell and needless to say the interview never gets properly finished.

The next day, the media is full of your banter and pictures of Katsuki smiling. There are memes and fan arts all over the internet and the world got a little bit more brighter as people had something to talk about, other than villain fights or evil deeds.

You were the topic of the month until Todoroki and Midoriya came out to the public. Katsuki will never forgive them for “shitting on his parade.”

You have no idea how you ended up here; if someone would have told you a year ago that you’ll be laying in Katsuki’s bed sharing a plate of fruits while you talk about your future after a successful mission, you would have laughed in their face.

You back in business?

You living with Katsuki, arguing over things only married people do?

Katsuki looking at you with nothing but love and fondness, walls down and vulnerable as he mumbles about his plans and secret dreams?

But somehow… Being here right now, basking in the after-glow of your cheeky deeds just a few minutes ago… it all makes sense now.

You ending up in Katsuki’s agency was the work of fate.

“Kats?” You mumble into your boyfriend’s chest as you nibble on a grape, half asleep in his arms.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

Katsuki looks at you with those bright, happy eyes, a tiny smile decorating his handsome face as he pulls you even closer.

“No shit. Me too.”

The End.

Extra:

“Oi, Menace!” Katsuki randomly speaks up while changing into his hero suit.

Hmm… that peach is really juicy in that tight underwear. Damn.

“Oi, what.”

“You can literally do whatever you want, right…” Katsuki mumbles and you look at him questioningly - that’s really fucking random, but okay.

“Well… I can do almost everything, yes.” You answer.

“Uhum… so technically… can you go back to that other dimension you went into last year?”

Wow, you’ve never thought about that before.

“Technically… yes? I think?”

“Can you… bring people with you?”

You know where this is going and fuck if you are not excited.

“Wanna go on an adventure, baby?” You grin like a madman and you get the same grin back from him.

“With you? Always.”

-> Click here for the extra chapter!

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Potato Ramble:

- Can we talk about the fact that somehow, in Katsuki’s head Steven is a trans pigeon? Because I found that really funny and sweet. Also, Katsuki is clearly a supporter and I love that for him.

- Oh my god, I want to cry. This story will forever be one of my favorites. I still remember the day I wrote the first chapter - I had no plans to finish it or to post it, I was just sitting on the train, on my way to London and I had this random idea so I wrote it down but I laughed so much after reading it through the day after that I decided to post it, hoping I’ll have enough ideas for it to make it into a series. Well, needless to say, I did have a shit load of ideas and honestly, half of them weren’t even used in this story. I’m not going to tell you what they were because eventually, I want to use them in my other series and I don’t wanna spoil the fun, but… yeah.

It was a few weeks ago that I started to feel like it’s time to say goodbye to this series; I had so many stories in my head and not being able to write them out because I had to post something else every week was making me really frustrated, plus this story had so many chapters already and I felt like you guys were also ready to move on from it. So yeah, it hurts like hell but I’m also really excited to have time to write something new!

- Speaking about new stuff; there is a new Katsuki x Reader on the way! It’s about to ex-lovers finding their way back to each other after being forced to worked together again. It’s a deeper story with less gag but please give it a try when the first chapter comes out! I want to make it half funny and half really serious so there is something for everyone. It will be a few weeks before I actually start posting that one but it’s on the way! I have five chapters written already!

- If you don’t wanna say goodbye to this story yet, there is an extra coming soon (1 or 2 chapters) + a Kirishima x Reader spin-off which will be between 5-10 chapters. If you want to be added to the taglist for the Kirishima one just send me a comment! I’ll probably start posting that after I’m done with the extra! Or before? Well, it depends on you guys, if you want to have the first chapter out as a teaser, just let me know and I’ll post that first (you’ll need to wait a whole month for the next chapter though), then the extra. It depends on you 💜

- Thank you for reading this story and commenting! I wouldn’t have finished this if it’s not for you, guys! I’m so thankful for all the support and I really hope I’ll see you soon! Love you 💜

- Also, thank you, Tag List Folks!!! Seeing the list grow overtime made me so happy and so motivated it’s downright ridiculous. 💥🥹

@sixxze @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @hanatsuki-hime @cloroxisadelectabletreat @cheesenmax @coffeent @smolsleepybat @therealpotatobish @qardasngan @canarystwin @unofficialmuilover @nanamomo1 @mikestuffffs @p4ndawrites @yao-ai @porusuniverse 💜💜💜💜

[sheonlywanted]

I’m Cold - Suna Rintaro

summary: Since the brutal murder of her older sister, the only family she had left, Reader is plunged into a world of cold and raw need for revenge. She takes over the work her sister left behind and begins to realize the world is far more dangerous than she could have ever imagined. When she crosses paths with a brooding, mysterious vampire, her body and mind are torn between her grief and desire. Caught in a web of secrets and heartbreak, which one will tear her apart first ?

content/warnings: dark themes, heavy angst, profanity, explicit smut, gore, and triggering content ( murder, sexual harassment, blood )

chapter summary: Reader returns home one night to find that her life has changed in a matter of hours. The cruel image of her sister’s battered body tattoos her brain, permanently burying itself into her conscious. With the last of her family being taken from her, she vows to avenge her sister by hunting down the one responsible. No matter what.

6.5k words

a.n- in a world where cigarettes aren’t gross as fuck.

chapter 1 - digest

Drip, drip, drip.

The constant noise does nothing to dull the incessant ringing in my ears. No other sound disturbs the heavy presence in the air, stealing all remnants of warmth, if there was any to begin with.

My breath stills as I try to focus, something akin to fear chains my feet to the ground where I stand. Preventing me from moving.

Dread wraps around my spine when I call her name and get no answer.

My hand trembles as I nudge the parted door even further. The edges are beaten and dented as if someone forced their way in, and it’s quiet, too quiet. Cold sweat trickles down my back as my breathing hitches, the smell is horrid.

The closer I walk the more my lunch threatens reappear, and I have to put a gloved hand to my nose to keep from retching. An unnecessary amount of blood is splattered along the wall and floor, trailing along the mattress in the center of the room.

I turn and kick the bathroom door so hard I can hear the distinct ‘crunch’ of the wall behind it caving in. ensuring that I- we are alone. A pit forms low in my stomach, my brain trying to keep from disassociating as it takes an excruciating amount of time to turn back and face her.

At the edge of the bed, the body of my poor, beautiful sister lays a few feet away from me. Her lifeless eyes bore into my soul, taking my heart and squeezing. Blood covers a large portion of her pale, drained skin. Her arms are bent at an unnatural angle, and I can see the ropes tearing into her wrists from where stand.

Her hair is in a disarray and stuck to her face. The gaping wounds on her neck and breasts are covered in a horrifying amount of body fluid and crimson, still dripping onto the floor in a slow drip, drip, drip taunt.

Her wide, dull eyes stare at me. Forcing me to come to terms with what I’m seeing. She’s been maliciously violated and butchered, left to rot like a fucking animal.

A guttural cry rips from my throat as my lungs struggle to refill with oxygen. My entire body seizing with pure, cold, denial that my sister is dead.

I drag my feet to her broken, beaten frame, softly lifting her head into my lap like I would a delicate doll. Tears blur my vision as her cool skin rests against my rigid hands. Who would do something like this? Something this vile and cruel? Something so fucking evil?

I peel the sticky hair from her face and take my time really looking at her, because I know it’ll be the last.

Her defined cheekbones, the fading tint in her thick eyebrows and lashes, her once unblemished skin is now decorated with bruises and cuts that match the purple nail polish she always wore. I trace my shaking fingertips over the gash just above her right eye, down the bruised slope of her broken nose, and finally, over her large, vacant eyes.

My entire body racks and tremors with the sobs I refuse to let out. I hug her close to me as I gently rock us back and forth, her tied arms falling limp behind her. I hold her so tight her bones threaten to crush under the pressure, but at this point there’s not much left to break. Her unmoving body feels heavier and heavier as I brace myself.

“You know what you have to do,” A voice whispers in my ear, and a mental lock clicks in place.

I startle back, whipping my head in the direction I think the voice came from. But when I look, there’s no one there. My eyes glaze over as thoughts race in my mind. My breathing stutters as I come to a clear realization of what that voice- my mind is telling me.

Rage slowly creeps into my vision, replacing my sorrow in a hurried rush until it’s all I can feel, all I can taste. All traces of what could have been disappear in the blink of an eye, and a stranger slips into my body like a wolf in sheep’s skin.

Numbness coats my body in a different form of torture. As if holding my abused sister in my arms isn’t enough.

When my senses finally come back to me, I rush to turn around as everything I ate during the day forces its way out of my body. My mouth salivates as I jerk uncontrollably, and I have to put a hand to my stomach to ease the painful clench of my abs. When I’m done, I grab a shirt to wipe my mouth before crawling back towards the body.

Ripping the ropes around her wrists loose, my hands aren’t mine as I position her into a sleeping position and start preparing. I nearly stumble over broken glass as I abruptly come to a full stand, haphazardly trying to get myself together. And just barely escaping a panic attack.

Emotional unavailability for the fucking win.

The sharp sting of winter flows into the room, providing a chilling difference to my body temperature. I take a long, shaken deep breath and catch myself in the small mirror that is somehow still hanging above her smashed desk.

Dried blood streaks across my face and leather jacket from where I was clutching my sisters dead body, my hair is mussed and frizzy, and a sheen of sweat sticks to every inch of my body.

I’m disoriented as fuck. Considering tonight’s events, I can’t really blame myself for looking like a train wreck. But then again… my eyes trail back to her. I violently shutter.

The moonlight reflecting off of a shiny surface catches my eye, distracting me from wherever that was going. I squint, trying to get a closer look at the pointy tip of a blade that glints back at me. Covered in blood all the way down to its hilt, with a small soaked piece of fabric wrapped around the handle.

I carefully lift the heavy blade and peel back the drenched cloth. My head tilts as I try to read the red-stained initials embroidered on the handkerchief. ‘R.S.’

What the hell?

The terrifying weapon is heavy and lethal in the palm of my hand. Words are dutifully carved near the base of the hilt in a language I don’t understand. I quickly wipe off the blood and sheath it beneath one of the pockets in my jacket, along with the handkerchief.

I grab and load up everything I need to survive on my own, checking her work desk for anything valuable and packing it. I’m going to need all of the information I can get if this is going to work.

I won’t stand idly by and let my sister be murdered without consequence. She was the only person I had in this world and I’ll be damned if she dies in vain.

They left her here for me to find, and if a reaction is what they wanted, a reaction they will have.

With one last look at our life, I stand in the doorway of what we called home. Memory of her smile brings tears to my eyes as I hold a lit match in front of me, staring into the flame like it will give me all of the answers I need. I let it fall from my fingers and turn away without watching the raging flames consume the one person that held my life together.

And whoever constructed, committed this unforgivable crime will fucking burn with her.

****

“There’s another job tomorrow if you want it.” Hiwaki says from behind his desk.

My knife flings into into the center of the target directly above his head as he ducks into his drawer to collect my pay.

“No.” I don’t work tomorrow. He knows this.

He drops the small duffel bag onto the table, putting a hand on top as I go to reach for it. My eyebrow lifts and I step back, giving him the go to speak his mind.

“I think you should go, Q. The man you’ll be in charge of knew your sister.” He looks deep into my eyes, searching for something I don’t care to give him.

Hiwaki is an older man with salt and pepper hair, he’s my boss and the middle man of the ‘company’ I work for. He’s also the only person besides myself that knows about my sister, and how I found her that night.

He was her boss at one point, and he’s my boss now. So he knows my name isn’t real, but doesn’t question me about it.

Since that night six months ago, I’ve been tracing my sister’s steps back from the beginning, and this is where she started. Killing for Tony Hiwaki, in the roguish city of Wovren, the city with no rules— literally.

The law enforcement here is dog shit. The participation in illegal activities is basically an average workday. It’s why I keep my knives on me at all times, and have little to no trouble killing my assignments on a day-to day basis.

That aside, it wasn’t difficult to get to this point, she trained me in combat from the time I had enough strength to lift a knife at the age of eight, to the night I found her bloodied and beat on her bedroom floor.

I nod and reach over him, pulling my blade from the target and snatching the duffel bag before turning to walk out. “Send me the details.”

Just as I reach the parking lot at the back of the warehouse, I toss a look over my shoulder as someone calls my name. Here we fucking go.

“Q, there you are,” Cole, one of Hiwaki’s body guards catch up to me as I start up my motorcycle, ready to go the fuck home. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

His tan hand rests on one of the handles, like he’s scared i’m gonna flee at any minute. A valid fear.

“Busy.” I drawl, my voice dripping with boredom.

Cole knows I have no interest in him, I have no interest in anything other than ripping the throat of my sister’s killer from their body. Plus, he’s always been a little too touchy touchy, but he would die before he ever got the chance. Hopefully he knows that.

And I think he sees the threat in my eyes, because he raises his hands by his head in a surrender and takes two steps back.

“Well, me and some of the guys will be at a bar tomorrow night if you want to join us.” His eyes look hopeful, and I can’t help but to want to crush all those hopes underneath my leather boot. Terrible I know.

“No, thanks. I have a job tomorrow.” I put my helmet on and kick the metal rod into place, ending the conversation.

“Yeah, okay. Good talk!” He shouts over the revving engine as I turn and speed off into the night.

***

The punching bag groans as I land a swift kick to its tough leather exterior, the impact causing the smallest amount of movement.

I slump down in exhaustion, out of breath from the amount of hours I’ve been training. I’ll admit, my height and size put me at a disadvantage for hand to hand combat, but they also give me the upper hand when I need to move quicker or stay hidden. Besides, my knife skills do more than make up for what my body can’t give me, so I don’t complain.

I move to the duffel bag I brought with me and collect all of my knives to sharpen so I can start target practice next.

I’m in one of the personal gyms on the third floor of Hiwaki’s warehouse. He granted me unlimited access to it when I first came to work for him, his reasoning being that my sister used the same one when she was under him.

Having checked for any secret cameras or mics and coming up empty, I couldn’t find any ulterior motive he might’ve had, so I accepted it. I needed a place to keep my body sharp anyways.

‘Always be ready. No one should ever have the ability to catch you off guard.’

Her voice appears in my mind and my thoughts trail off to the first time she said those words to me. I was twelve years old and easily distracted, as most twelve year olds are, and happen to catch the gaze of a cute boy walking on the other side of the window of a gym we were sparring in.

All she needed was that sliver of an opening before she swung a leg under my feet, successfully making me land flat on my ass. It hurt like hell, and she did eventually help me up… after she’d had her fill of laughing right in my face.

“You’ll have plenty of time for that,” She said, eyeing the boy who was now walking away. “But right now you need to focus.”

Focus.

My head snaps to the to the sliding door just as Hiwaki reveals himself. He strides into the room and sits in a chair with the posture of a father trying to hang out with his son, but I know better than to take his visit as anything other than some sort of ploy.

I continue sharpening my knives as he finds his words, the sound of metal against metal fill the silence. It’s always something with this man, especially since he knew my sister. And I can’t find it in me to stop my brewing irritation every time he speaks.

Nonetheless, I patiently wait, standing to line up at the red mark several feet away from the human-sized wooden target.

“Q.”

“Hiwaki.”

“I don’t know how many times I’ve told you to call me Tony.” He says, his eyes following the blur of metal that lands in the middle of my target’s chest. “Your sister called me Tony.” He adds when I stay silent.

He always says weird shit like that, it’s starting make me uncomfortable as fuck. It makes me wonder if he was more than just her boss, the possibility gives me a headache.

“I’m not my sister, Hiwaki.” I drone, hoping he gets the message. “What did you need?”

He sighs with exasperation, “I came to warn you about the man you’re dealing with tonight.”

“What about him?”

“As I mentioned before, he knew your sister-” He pauses when my next knife splits the wood at the head.

“You did.” I respond.

“He’s a drunk asshole that may not come off as dangerous at first,” He walks in front of me, making sure he has my full attention. A dangerous move might I add.

“-And he’s not. But he has dangerous friends, so keep it clean and quiet.” His serious tone makes me consider his words for a second, he almost sounds nervous.

I always knew my sister was involved with dangerous people, it wasn’t exactly a secret. If training me to kill a man at the age I was wasn’t the revealing hint, then I don’t know what was.

“Who are these dangerous friends I should be worried about?” I question, noting the way he looks at his shoes before looking back at me.

“Don’t worry about that for now,” He attempts to smile and put a hand on my shoulder, both ultimately failing when I step out of arms reach.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say you had a specific goal when you came to this room.” I state, side-stepping him to hurl another knife.

“I-“

“And surely you wouldn’t have come here to ‘warn’ me about these dangerous people if there was nothing to worry about.” His jaw clenches as I turn back to him.“But I could be wrong, hm?”

He chuckles, taking his time before stepping closer to me, his shoes just barely touching mine as he looms over me. “Clever girl, aren’t you?”

He’s so close I can see his freshly trimmed mustache and smell the scent of burning wood off of his clothes.

His eyes trail over my covered collar bone, up the expanse of my neck, and finally, back to my eyes as his crinkled ones crease with every movement of his face.

The action causes my hands to ball into fists to keep from breaking his nose where he stands. One second he’s caring and pitying, and the next he’s acting like a two-faced bitch with secrets.

I’m suspicious of everyone around me, have been since that night. But people like him make my fucking skin crawl, like I’m missing something that’s right in front of me.

He studies me for a moment longer, before leaning back to rock on his heels. The look on his face vanishes, a sweet smile taking its place. “Just stay on your toes, Q. Your sister should have taught you that, hm?”

I watch as he heads back the way he came. Anger thrums through my veins like electricity as my fist collides with the mirror behind me, the contact splitting the skin on my knuckles.

Though he’s given me no reason to kill him yet, I have a feeling one of my knives will be the reason he ends up six feet under.

—

The rest of the day goes by in the same blur as all the others. I train, I gather information bit by bit, and attempt push out every grieving thought that comes my way. Being able to keep food down or sleep for more than thirty minutes is a luxury. If the dark circles under my eyes give any indication.

One thing I did find after getting settled into my new place near the outskirts of the city, was that the words carved onto the knife I found are in japanese. They translate to the phrase, ‘When one takes an eye, you take their head.’

I couldn’t agree more.

I also discovered that the entirety of the blade is custom made. No blade smiths in the city had ever seen such intricate material tailored onto a knife, and I met a lot of them, even threw a few empty threats in to see if they were covering for someone. Still, nothing.

So the person that had it made is either dead or nonexistent— neither of which I’m willing to except.

The handkerchief is lost on me too. I can’t find any popular family names or establishments that have the initials ‘R.S.’ I even asked Hiwaki if he had any knowledge on the subject, even he came up clueless. Or so it seems.

And yes, I am aware that using his ‘sympathy’ or whatever you want to call it to get the information I need is messed up, and I really don’t give a fuck.

Everyday I look at the stained cloth as a reminder of what I’ve lost, and sometimes it feels like I’m going insane. Searching for someone I know nothing about, blindly trudging through an unknown water I don’t know the depth of with an endless need of making it to the other side.

A certain hunger consumes me, a ruthless craving that won’t detach its self until I take the life of the one who stole my sister’s. Hell, I can’t even say her name without having the sick urge to run around killing everyone around me. I might have to get that checked once this is all over with.

But that all goes over my head as the warm body beneath me temporarily relieves my current troubles.

His rough hands grip my waist as I grind down on him, a long groan escaping his lips as I get myself off. My hands are flat on his chest for balance as I leisurely roll my hips over his, his toned muscle rippling beneath my fingers as he struggles for air.

I lean down, capturing his mouth in a heated kiss, our tongues fighting for dominance. The cool metal of our piercings bump against each other when his teeth scrape along my bottom lip, causing a loud moan to rip from my throat.

“Fuck, baby.” He moans against my mouth, his long fingers sliding down to rub tight circles on my aching clit. Oh fuck.

I hide my face in the crook of his neck as the pleasure threatens to snap that tightening coil in my lower abdomen. I lick and bite the skin of his neck, letting my nails carry bright red lines down his heaving stomach. The vivid marks match the vibrant color of his hair, and my hands itch to pull on the strands, so I do.

When my legs begin to buckle, he flips us over so quick I don’t have time to react, before he’s sliding in and out of me at a brutal pace. The sounds of skin against skin fill up the small space around us, and It hurts so good.

“Holy shit,” I moan, clutching the strands of his fire-like hair even harder. His mouth forming an ‘o’ when my nails scratch his scalp.

His right hand clasps my upper thigh and throws it over his shoulder so that I’m taking him even deeper. Oh my god. We’re so close I can hear the tiny whimpers that slip from his mouth.

I might’ve told a little white lie when I said I wasn’t interested in Cole for obvious reasons, but I’m just not into Cole.

He can’t give me the much needed distractions like the man above me can, can’t make my back arch like the man above me can, and sure as hell can’t make me wet like the man above me can. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

Speaking of-

“Mmm~” His heavy breathing clouds my senses once again as we tip over the edge together. His large hands hold my ass with a bruising grip I know will be visible tomorrow.

“Ughh,” I loop my arms around his neck to ground myself.

His hips deliver a few more slow strokes before he slouches on top of me, his thumb rubbing small shapes into my skin as we both come down from our high.

Once he’s calm and collected, he moves off the bed to grab his clothes. I was so busy ripping them off when he first walked through the door that I hadn’t had the chance to see what he was wearing. How does the simple combination of black on black look so sexy?

I lay there, watching him get dressed with a satisfied grin on my face, he looks just as good as he fucks. It’s a rare duo.

He catches me staring, and his eyes travel down my exposed body before crawling back onto the bed towards me and settling in between my bare thighs. His seductive gaze almost makes me want to go another round.

When our noses are just inches apart, he closes the gap and kisses me long and hard. His tongue slips into my mouth in a gut twisting motion, stealing my breath before he pulls away, both of us breathing hard by the end of it.

“That was good, Q.” His mumbles, his eyes flickering down to my bruised lips.

“Yeah, it was.” I breathe, my mouth softly brushing against his, and I’m tempted to bite him again. “I trust you can let yourself out?”

“Of course, call me when you need me.” He winks, and I fight the roll of my eyes as he heads to my front door.

He has to be the only decent thing in my life at the moment. Both of us want the physical relationship with out the labels or commitment, and it’s perfect.

I needed something to take the edge off without all of the extra shit, and he checks all of the boxes.

After I’m done reminiscing about our amazing sex, I head to the shower to get ready for tonight’s mission. The gears in my mind immediately shifting into a weapon.

—

Nighttime rolls around in a timely fashion as I dress in my usual black leathers. All of my blades are sheathed and concealed from sight as I head out of the building to meet my client for tonight.

I don’t like using guns, they’re too loud and too noticeable. Having the ability to catch someone by surprise right before I watch the light leave their eyes gives me the stealth and reputation of a fox. It’s probably the another reason Hiwaki treats me so well, I’m one of his best assassins.

If not the best.

The intel stated that the man would be at an exclusive bar in the heart of Wovren. It’s the weekend so it’ll be busy, but easier to get him alone. He apparently also has a weakness for any woman he lies eyes on— like most of the men I’ve dealt with— soo bingo.

When I walk in, the bass and volume of the music threaten to bust my ear drums. I scan over the crowds of people filling the two story club, specifically searching the two main bars for bright blonde hair. There are people everywhere, ranging from naked strippers to drunk birthday girls and suspicious looking business men.

Booths in every corner are filled up with people who seem to be having a good time, a really good time. My eyes squint as I notice the glazed over look in their eyes. And yet the waitresses don’t break a sweat getting the alcohol from table to table. It’s like walking through a circus.

As I continue to observe what’s around me, a sudden chill dances down my spine. I have the urge to look behind me but choose to ignore it when I think i’ve found who I’m looking for.

Surely enough, across the room on the second floor, a buff, middle aged man with hair the color of his skin sits alone at the bar. The pink tint on his cheeks let me know this won’t take long as I start up the stairs in his direction.

I slide smoothly into the stool beside him and order a glass of whiskey, neat. I pretend to mind my business, paying him no mind when I feel his eyes on my side profile, taking a long, slow sip before gently setting the glass on the counter and chancing a glance in his direction.

I must say he looks good for his age. I’m not one for older men but there’s no concerning amount of wrinkles or yellow teeth —I’m almost impressed. He’ll be easy to seduce, which makes my job a hell of a lot easier.

He continues admiring my figure so openly that I can tell he’s undressing me with his eyes, and I might just puke. I’m sitting right fucking here. What a pervert, the audacity that men have will forever astound me.

“Are you going to keep staring at me like a piece of meat or actually attempt to flirt?” I question, draining the rest of my glass and waving the server over for another, turning my smooth gaze on him.

A drunken smile creeps onto his face before he turns to drain the last of what’s in his glass too. “A bit under dressed for such a place hm?” He replies, lifting a pale brow at my choice of outfit.

There’s a slight slur to his words, I should get him out of here before I have to carry his ass out myself. I do a once over of his white button up and grey slacks, faking interest as I take my time responding.

“I could ask you the same,” I say, looking to the side and biting my lip before looking back at him. “But I take it you’re not one to talk much.”

I think i’ve always been one for dramatics. Just a little. I will say my flirting could use some work, but these things never last long enough for me to actually practice. Which I don’t particularly mind-

Everyone in here is either drunk or on some kind of substance. Not to mention the couples’ in the booth across from us have forgotten they are in a public place. My nose scrunches in disgust. I’ve barely been here an hour and would already like to leave.

“-From the way you’re looking at me, I could say the same.” He sets his glass down and stands— well, tries to.

I’m happy he’s already done me a favor and gotten drunk enough that killing him will take me barely lifting a finger, especially with how big he is. But how exactly am I supposed to get answers out of him if he’s already stumbling over his own feet?

He sways a little before taking off toward the back exit of the building, he waves a hand over his shoulder indicating for me to follow him. So I do.

As soon as we step into the cold air I take a deep breath, my lungs taking advantage of the fresh air.

The moment is short-lived when he roughly pins me against the brick wall of the alleyway, the harsh surface digging into my back as his heavy body presses into me. I look towards both entrances of the alleyway to be sure that we’re alone, and my fingers itch to grab hold of my knives as he gets himself off.

So much for foreplay.

“Kinda’ glad you came,” He breathes, rutting his hips into mine. His big, meaty hands hold my waist still like I might suddenly take off. Another valid fear.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” I don’t even attempt to hide the disdain in my voice or try to sound breathless underneath him. He wouldn’t notice even if I did.

It goes on like this for a while as I allow him to get comfortable. He slurs some more sentences that I don’t understand, nor do I try to. His breath reeks of alcohol and cigar smoke, the strong smell making this interaction damn near unbearable.

Slipping my right hand into my breast pocket, I pull out the small photo I carry everywhere with me.

Shoving it into his face, I knee him right in the balls —hard. Almost smiling at the pathetic mewl that escapes his lips as he crumbles onto the wet concrete.

‘Yeah, thats enough buddy,’ I think to myself as I dust off my jacket.

I crouch down to his level, fighting the laugh that bubbles through my lips at his twisted face. Get it together man.

“Do you know this girl?” I grip his hair with my free hand and yank his head back so he can see it clearly.

When he doesn’t answer, instead choosing to spit on my leather boots, my very expensive leather boots, I lift him up even higher and ram the same knee right into his nose, listening for the distinct crack.

“-Fuck!” He shouts, grabbing his crooked nose with both hands. “You broke my fucking nose!”

For such a large man, I fear Hiwaki was right about him being a weakling. It’s unfortunate, really.

“Yes, that was the point.” I respond, grabbing him once more to show the photo of my dead fucking sister.

“Do. You. Know this girl?” I repeat, venom lacing every word.

His eyes widen as he actually looks at the picture this time, his brows furrowing in contemplation. “Who are you?” He utters, blood pouring down his face as he talks.

I sigh like he’s my biggest problem in the world and unsheathe one of my knives, flipping it up in the air before trailing it down the front of his slacks, tapping it right on his most prized possession.

He gulps before opening his mouth to speak again.

“-Choose your words carefully.” I warn, catching the way his eyes light up for a split second. He recognizes her.

“Yeah I know her. Used to see her all the time over at Blood Moon.” He says, his tone hushed like that’s all he’s gonna say.

I wait for a beat, then two. Then look around us before looking back at him. He’s about to pull some bullshit I know it.

“Great, thanks-”

“Fucked that bitch like the whore she was-“ I shove my knife into his left eye, effectively cutting him off.

Like I said, the audacity.

His screams are melodies to my ears. I grab him by the collar of his jacket and haul him up just enough to see my face clearly. Well, as clearly as he can with one eye and get real close to his gushing face, so close I only have to whisper for him to hear me.

“You see what happens when you don’t listen ?” I ask, tilting my head in a pitiful manner. “Hiwaki sends his regards.”

His good eye widens one last time before I push my blade further into his socket through his skull, letting it touch the back of his brain, and then ripping it out and letting his body fall to the ground with a satisfying thud.

“Shithead.” I mutter, reaching down to wipe his blood off my blade, sheathing it on the outside of my thigh this time.

So much for keeping it clean and quiet.

I neatly tuck the photo back into my breast pocket as I come to a full stand. Blood Moon. He said he’d seen her at Blood Moon. Is that a club? A bar? I never knew her workplaces, she’d always insisted it was too dangerous for me to know anything. So dangerous it got her killed. And what did he mean by ‘was’? Did he know she was murdered? Did he know who murdered her? Fuck, maybe I killed him too early, but if I can find out what and where this ‘Blood Moon’ place is, then-

My body freezes. The hairs on the back of my neck stand at an alarming rate, and my hand hovers over the knife I just used to kill a man. My spine straightens on its own accord and I can feel sweat beading along my hairline. This alleyway was empty just a moment ago, but I don’t give myself time to think about that as I slowly turn around.

A tall figure leans against the end of the wall opposite of me, watching me with what looks like curiosity. He’s dressed in black from head to toe, the material revealing a striking contrast to his unnaturally pale skin. His short, charcoal hair comes to rest just beneath his ears, framing his piercing gaze perfectly. His lips form a thin line, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly as he taps the excess ash off his cigarette.

He doesn’t seem disconcerted by what i’m positive he just watched me do, he might’ve even enjoyed the little show, considering the small smirk on his face.

My head spins as I struggle to figure out my next move. I could go back in the way I came, or simply walk past him, but something keeps me from moving. It’s like his presence has stolen my free will.

“A little gruesome, don’t you think?” His keen eyes are back on mine, and I realize i’ve been blatantly staring at him.

I blink a few times before looking back down at the body that slumps at my feet. I tilt my head, searching for an answer.

“I think I would’ve preferred a little more blood, actually.” I state, slowly walking towards the end of the alleyway where he stands. “His tongue was too loose.”

For some reason the closer I get the more my body no longer deems him a threat, even though I was scared shitless two minutes ago, it’s my mind that makes sure I maintain my distance.

Something in his energy tangles with mine, drawing me closer as my common sense screams for me to stop, or run the opposite direction, anything to keep me from doing something stupid.

I come to a stop in front of him just as he takes another drag, a dark eyebrow lifting at me as he extends the cig to me.

As if i’ve known this man all my life, my fingers skim against his as I take the burning joint to my lips. The cool wave of nicotine works against the adrenaline I’ve built as I stare at the intriguing stranger, his eyes trailing my every move like a cat with a ball of yarn.

With the few feet of space in between us I get a waft of his cologne, and he smells divine. An intoxicating mix of vanilla and sage invade my nostrils, and I swear to all there is my knees almost give out when the wind blows it in my direction.

I can also see the distinct features of his face more closely, my eyes memorizing every prominent slope and line that is his face. He’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen, the moonlight does nothing to stop him from looking unreal.

“M’, too bad you didn’t let him live long enough for such entertainment,” He drawls, his bored tone shifting into a teasing one.

His words snap my attention back to reality.

“But it is like you said,” He takes one large step towards me, plucking the bud from my lips and tossing it behind him. “I did enjoy the ‘little’ show.” He whispers, leaning into my space.

My mind is completely blank, and my words abandon me as I peer up at him through my lashes. My body heats at his close proximity, and I have to press myself into the wall to keep from doing something I’ll regret.

His observant eyes take me in once more, as if he can see all my darkest secrets like words in a book, before wordlessly turning and walking away.

It takes me a full ten minutes to recollect myself before my self dignity finally comes back to me. Then something that he said hits me. ‘I did enjoy the little show.’

I don’t remember saying that out loud.