#he's... he's weak those plastic fangs

[vladdyissues]

Please give us som Vlad headcanons!!! :)

Oh boy, you're gonna wish you'd never asked 😆 Long post ahead

🎧 Vlad is a huge fan of 80s synth-pop and new wave. Depeche Mode, The Cure, The Smiths, Duran Duran, Tears For Fears, Pet Shop Boys, a-ha, and New Order, to name just a few.

🎵 On a similar (quarter) note, music from the late 70s and early 80s is still difficult for him to listen to because it reminds him of the years he was pining for Maddie, the accident, and being hospitalized. Mid-80s music and beyond, when he began to take his life back and build his wealth and power, is his "good old days" music.

🎹 Another music headcanon: In Familiar, I hinted at Vlad being a pianist. I think he'd look pretty hot playing a saxophone, maybe even a trumpet. And Martin Mull is a pretty good guitarist and singer, so Vlad also having those talents would be really cool. But I like to believe that Vlad plays the geekiest, dorkiest, nerdiest, most Slav-coded instrument of all: the accordion. Just imagine him torturing Danny and Sam and Tucker with polka music and ballads about cheese while on a camping trip. Maybe Wulf howling in agony from somewhere in the woods.

🧀 Yeah, he’s basically the negaverse equivalent of Weird Al.

👂 Vlad got his ear pierced in the mid-90s.

🔥 Despite being a fire specter ("having a fire core", to use the phandom terms), Vlad loves the cold. Winter is his favorite season, Christmas his favorite holiday. A bit of a spoiler for either chapter 13 or 14 of Familiar: Vlad is a superb ice skater.

💔 Besides his mother, Maddie was the only woman Vlad ever loved.

🐄 Vlad grew up the son of a poor Wisconsin dairy farmer. His mother was a first-generation Romanian* immigrant. He was the first member of his family to go to college, and on a full scholarship. He has no siblings. (*I may adapt Vlad’s nationality depending upon the story/art/situation, but generally I like to HC him as Romanian, which you can see on his backpack here in this AU.)

👊 Vlad was a victim of bullying in his teen years. Because of his first name and his ethnicity—not to mention his appearance and disposition: skinny, gangly, "ugly", shy, nerdy, poor—Halloween was always a miserable time for him: getting pelted with plastic vampire fangs in the hallways at school; cruel nicknames like "Count Vladislob" or "Vladis-louse"; racist remarks about his Romani mother; "Bleh bleh! I vant to suck your bluud!" It was awful.

✌️ Because he spent so many years being made to feel ashamed of his unusual name, when he became rich and successful after obtaining his ghost powers, he put his name and initial everywhere. V for Vlad.

🏈 Vlad got his love of Green Bay from his father. Apart from a shared surname, it was one of the only two (2) things he and his dad had in common.

🔧 Working on farm machinery like tractors and hay balers was the other. Vlad and his dad would often fix the farm equipment themselves rather than hire a mechanic—mostly out of necessity. Vlad is still pretty good with a monkey wrench, though in college his focus shifted from engineering to physics after meeting Jack and Maddie.

🚀 Vlad grew up in the sixties. Space race, the moon landing, the Cold War. Every kid his age had space fever. Vlad was no exception. His bedroom walls were a collage of stars, rockets, shuttles, astronauts, and cosmonauts. Yuri Gagarin was his hero. He wanted to be an astronaut when he grew up. (Just like Danny.)

🩸 I mentioned this on another post, but I'll add it here, too: Vlad's obsession with gaining more power stems from the trauma and weakness he experienced when he was hospitalized. He made a vow to never be that helpless again.

🪦 Both of Vlad's parents were dead by the time he got out of the hospital. He was estranged from the rest of the Masters family and therefore had no one to turn to.

👶 Because of this, Vlad became obsessed with having a family of his own. Ironically, the accident sterilized him. He will never be able have biological children.

🍪 Some of Vlad’s happiest memories are baking with his mother. He had (and still does have) quite a sweet tooth—and a penchant for cooking.

[fragileizywriting]

god marinette is just having one of the shittiest days of her life. she's had so many, and does her best to forget about them the moment they're gone because honey if she spent any second thinking about all the awful days she's had, she'd never move out of her seat ever again from annoyance, but today was rough.

she collapses onto adrien with a groan, shoulders slack and scrubs making that god-awful plastic noise it does whenever the fabric crinkles.

"you okay?" he asks, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

this is what she's needed in her life. a good, honest man who isn't afraid to hug her tight. unlike luka, he's still apprehensive to hug her until her back cracks, but his touch is firm against the knots on her back, and makes her lashes flutter whenever he uses those piano fingers to touch her neck and thigh and warms her up into a purr.

oh, it's good to be in a stable relationship.

"no. terrible," she says, playing up her voice to be as pathetic and weak as possible. "you know what would make it better?"

"mmm?"

(nsf....work ig)

she pulls away enough from their embrace so she can puff out her bottom lip and do her best impression of looking kicked. "if you gave me a creampie."

his ears go pink, right underneath those beautiful golden curls. oh, it's so cute, the way his whole face transforms from soft and affectionate, to wide and unassuming? he's like a cat, honestly, coming out of the rain and realizing they're all wet, standing their with their body tense and nothing on the mind. she's always had a thing for strays.

"y-you're not serious," he tries.

perhaps the look she's giving him screams 'have you forgotten you're dating a succubus?' because he ducks his head in embarassment when all she says is: "i am."

"a—" he looks scandalized. "a creampie?"

"i like physical affection," she reasons. "i would say a creampie is really affectionate."

"how does that help you, exactly?" before she answers, he blurts out: "i know the creampie helps your magic. succubus, i got it. i meant the... feeling happy part."

"you'd be holding me and making me feel better." she's got her fingers on the curve of his shoulder, just above the massive bicep, giving him a lookover. who would've thought that adrien in winter attire would be so cute? that v-neck sweater and button down combo? oh! what a treat. he looks like a professor, so academic, so ivy league. if he wore glasses, she'd snatch them right off of his nerdy little face and place it on the armrest of the couch so she could smother him in blind kisses. "cage me in with your giant arms and make me feel small and good and nice?"

there's a smile coming on his handsome face, showing the tips of his fangs. "oh. oh. you mean like—"

"yes, baby. top me and make me feel like i don't have to think at all for the rest of my life because you've got me and want to take care of me because i'm just a cute little princess who doesn't need to think about work. please?"

she gets no confirmation, but he does chase her to the bedroom when she starts striping, so that's fine.

[angstyaches]

charlie and shayne dressing up as those vampires from the terrible early 2000s movies and teasing the fuck out of eli and fee lmaooo🍄

Shayne and Charlie’s Halloween 2022, event 2/2

Okay, Charlie would be way too terrified and I'm not sure if it counts as teasing the fuck, but I'm quite happy with how this came out, even if it is a bit dialogue-heavy.

CW: vampires, banter, alcohol mention.

___

“I don’t get why you’re mad,” Shayne was grumbling as they came downstairs, loosely holding hands. “You thaid ‘vampire’.” 

“This is not what I meant, and you know it,” Charlie hissed, glancing down into the empty hallway. So far, the coast was clear, but it didn’t do much to calm his frazzled nerves. “I cannot believe you sometimes.” 

“’Cannot’?” Shayne repeated. “Fuck, I’ve really pithed you off, haven’t I?”  

“Sshh,” Charlie whispered. 

Shayne’s eyes softened, his lips turned down in a sulk. With the extra bulk of the fake fangs, he looked comically adorable. Charlie would have kissed him, if he didn’t know how horrible those plastic things tasted. He’d decided against wearing his own fangs after having them in his mouth for about two minutes.

He’d suggested Shayne do the same, but Shayne had been adamant that they completed his look. A look he never should have been trusted to assemble by himself in the first place.

A small shiver ran down Charlie’s back as they reached the downstairs hallway of the Aldridge townhouse. It was close to the city, and only a fifteen minute walk to the bar Rin had asked them to meet her at, so getting ready here had made sense at first.

Now, Charlie felt like he was about to faint.

Okay. The front door was within reach. They’d almost made it – 

“Oh, hey!” Felix exclaimed from the sitting room as they passed the door. 

Charlie cursed quietly to himself. He’d very much hoped to slip out of the house undetected, by Elliott and Felix in particular. He briefly considered making a run for it and pretending he hadn’t heard Felix call out, but Ingrid Waters had raised a boy who was hardwired to stop and say hi. 

He pulled Shayne by the shoulders, out of view of the sitting room, and tugged his cape further forward, so that it covered most of his clothes. It’d have to do. He gave him a pleading look, a silent Please behave, but the vodka had already watered-down Shayne’s limited ability to take a hint. 

He forced a smile and returned to the doorway. “Hi, guys.” 

___ 

"Oh, gosh. You both look so cool.” Felix gazed at Charlie and Shayne with the smallest twinge of jealousy. His and Elliott’s social calendar was quite a depressing sight to behold these days. He was sure he must have looked like a sleepy little kid waiting for a bedtime story, but he didn't care. “So, where are you going tonight, again?” 

“Rin invited us to go out with a few of her friends in the city.” Charlie shuffled his feet back and forth. He seemed even shiftier than he usually did in the townhouse. He and Shayne were just barely holding hands, with their pinky and ring fingers joined, but it looked like Charlie was trying to keep Shayne shoved out of view. 

“Wait, what are you... dressed as?” Elliott’s voice was a little weak as it came out. He leaned forward on the sofa. 

Felix frowned and looked up at his partner with a twinge of concern. It was quite clear that Shayne and Charlie were both dressed as –  

“We’re just vampires.” Charlie blurted it out with all the energy of a guilty person on trial who’d lost their nerve at the last second.  

He was wearing some dark blue – not quite black – bootcut jeans and a white t-shirt that he’d seemed to have shredded along the bottom with some scissors, so that it was slightly cropped. He’d gelled up the front of his hair and wrapped a strip of fabric around the crown of his head. His jacket looked suspiciously like it might have been bought by a younger Charlie who’d been going through a My Chemical Romance phase.  

“Lost Boys, Charlie...?” Felix ventured to ask. 

“Yeah! Exactly.” Charlie glanced at Shayne. He reached over with one hand to adjust the cape that sat over Shayne’s shoulders, pulling it a little further forward. Shayne grunted and pulled back, momentarily revealing a mouthful of bright-white plastic.

"Fake fangs?" Elliott scoffed, and Felix resisted the urge to nudge him with his elbow. There was no need to ruin their fun.

"Uh, yeah," Charlie smiled guiltily. “I – I was wearing them, too. We went to that tacky little Halloween shop in town. Don’t you think it’s so... so weird that it only appears there for a few weeks every year?” 

“Yes!” Felix exclaimed and sat forward on the sofa, clasping his hands together. Finally. Most people just got a glazed look in their eyes whenever Felix brought up any of his pet peeves, and this was definitely one of them. “It is extremely weird, Charlie. I feel as though I never notice an empty lot in its place, either. Do you think it’s run by witches?” 

“I don’t know, but...” Charlie glanced, again, at Shayne, who was stretching his jaw and fidgeting with the plastic teeth. “Anyway, the fangs are super uncomfortable.” 

“Oh,” Felix smiled. “Well, that sucks.” 

Charlie let out a nervous laugh, as though he felt he were obliged to. 

Shayne winked lazily with one eye and pointed at Felix in silent approval of the pun. It was quite clear from that point that he and Charlie had already started drinking.  

He was in his usual black jeans, but he’d tucked the ends of them inside a pair of long, white socks that had a thin rainbow pattern near the top (probably borrowed from Charlie). There was a long black costume cape tied around his shoulders, and he had it pulled almost completely around himself at the front, but the edge of a lacy, frilly collar was sticking out. He must have gotten himself a new shirt, because... 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear purple before,” Elliott said, stealing the words right out of Felix’s mouth. 

“So?” Through the set of janky plastic fangs, it sounded like Shayne had said, “Thlo?” 

Felix swallowed as he sensed the tension that was starting to build in the air. He hoped this wasn't about to turn into a territorial fight over a colour.

Over the frilly purple shirt, he was wearing what looked like a velour waistcoat. For some reason, it made Felix tilt his head. Maybe he had seen it somewhere before? 

Charlie jabbed Shayne in the side, without looking at him. 

Shayne adjusted and pulled his cape further around himself, this time with a scowl and a little bit of a flourish. The cape billowed outwards in the process, so that Felix got another look at what he was wearing underneath. 

A choked sound came from Charlie’s mouth, before the blonde promptly folded his arms and lowered his head. The heel of his hand cradled his forehead. 

“Uh, Shayne...?” Elliott sat forward again; any further and he’d have slipped right off the sofa.

“Yeah, man?” Shayne’s tone was innocent, but his dark eyes held a dark, knowing glint. 

“He - he wanted to do a What We Do in the Shadows, or, um, Interview with the Vampire kind of thing,” Charlie said. He was looking at Shayne as though he wanted to strangle him. 

“I don’t think the vampires in either of those movies wore a cape,” Felix blurted out shamelessly. It wasn’t very often that he got to whip out his knowledge of vampire movies; this was the time of year when he felt he was allowed to be pedantic. 

“I’m juth... you know.” Shayne shrugged, still struggling not to slur his words around the fake fangs. “An old-timey vampire. Old-school. Old-thtyle.” 

___ 

Charlie was dressed up as a member of the undead, but he felt like he was actually dying each time Shayne emphasised the word ‘old’.

Maybe Charlie was biased because of his frosty, complicated relationship with Jonathan, but he didn’t understand why Shayne was doing this. He knew Shayne and his cousin had an ongoing banter, but stealing a sixty-year-old vampire’s clothing for a Halloween costume seemed like taking things too far. 

Especially considering the fact that said vampire was Elliott Aldridge, the temper-wielding, super strong, bat-transforming, terrifying –  

“Hmm,” was all Elliott said to Shayne’s terrible explanation. 

“Anyway.” Sensing the lull and taking it as an opportunity, Charlie pinched a bit of the fabric of Shayne’s cape and tugged. “Time to go, right?” 

But Shayne was frozen in place and staring right at Elliott. 

Charlie’s gut tightened. 

Felix’s mouth opened into a silent gasp as he came to the same realisation that had already dawned on his partner. That the frilly shirt and the waistcoat Shayne was so clearly wearing under his cape looked awfully familiar because they – 

Felix sucked in a breath. “Oh...” 

“Come on,” Charlie whispered. He lightly placed his hands on Shayne’s shoulders and directed him towards the front door. Shayne still had himself covered up completely with the cape, like someone who’d just been pulled from a lake and wrapped in a blanket in a movie.  

He could sense that the vamps were following them to the door. 

___ 

“Shayne?’ Elliott’s fists were clenched by his sides. “Are you supposed to be me?” 

Felix grimaced and squeezed his hands together as they all waited for the answer. 

It was Charlie’s sigh that came first – a deep, husky one that seemed to say, Damn it, we almost made it. He’d stopped right by the front door, hand on the doorknob and everything. 

“Look, I didn’t know!” Charlie exclaimed as he turned around. He spread his arms wide. “I didn’t know what he was planning until it was too late to make him change.” 

Shayne turned around next, and swept his arms down under his cape. When he lifted them again and threw the cape outwards in all directions, Felix recognised the clothing instantly; it wasn’t a shirt and waistcoat that Elliott wore very often, but Felix could recall at least two events he’d worn them to. They were entirely too big for Shayne’s frame, and he hadn’t even bothered to button up the waistcoat. 

Shayne bared his plastic fangs and let out a hiss.  

“Ah,” he said in a deep voice. “Pour me a whithky, kid. Then I’m going to turn into a bunch of tiny fucking bats and go kill thomething.” 

Felix clamped a hand over his mouth.

Looking pale in the face, Charlie opened the front door and left without looking back again. Shayne took a few backwards steps and then followed him, looking very satisfied with himself, not bothering to pull his cape around his outfit anymore. 

For a few seconds, Elliott didn’t move, or even breathe. Felix looked up at him, and was about to try to say something, when he unfroze. 

“Hey, you little fuck, I don’t sound like that!” Elliott followed Shayne to the doorstep, grabbing hold of the door before it could close. “And I only wore a cape for a brief amount of time in the nineties!” 

“Oh, Elli,” Felix whispered, joining his partner and putting a hand up on his shoulder. As smart as he was in certain situations, his poor darling Elliott had a bad habit of choosing the wrong hill to die on. 

Elliott’s breath hitched as he glared down the driveway. “And I told you that in confidence, Shayne!” 

Shayne waved a hand over his head as he walked. “’Night, old man.” 

Elliott growled quietly. He was still gripping the wood of the door in his hand. Felix reckoned it was time to pry him free and bring him back inside. He looked crestfallen, and Felix couldn’t exactly blame him.  

They say imitation is the highest form of flattery, and Felix could see the logic and sentiment behind that, but being told your fashion sense fell in line with the stereotypical vampire tropes from decades gone by must have felt a little rough. 

Felix was still squeezing his hands together as he followed his partner back through to the kitchen. 

Elliott went straight to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a whisky. 

Jeez, he doesn’t help himself. Felix waited for him to take his first swig before approaching, laying a hand gently on his arm. “Hey. It’s alright.” 

“He stole my clothes, Fee,” Elliott growled. He placed his glass on the countertop and glared at it, as though it were the embodiment of his humiliation. “I can’t even exact vengeance because nothing he owns would ever fit me.” 

Felix pressed his lips together. Apparently, the implication that his clothes were outdated or caricatural wasn’t the problem.  

“Oh,” Felix said. “Yeah... I know, darling, I know. It’ll be alright.” 

___ 

“Are you happy with yourself?” Charlie demanded as they made their way down the driveway. 

Shayne shrugged. “Exthremely.” 

“Oh, my god.” Charlie’s voice trembled with impatience. “The fangs, take them out, take them out!” 

[mellowwangxianenthusiast]

Vampire Kagehina pt 1 of ?

"Hey Tobi, look at the fangs I got for Halloween this year!" He walked into their shared apartment and pulled out the cheap plastic fangs he had just bought from Spirit Halloween on his way home from work. He got a blank stare in response from his roommate/man he's been in love with since sophomore year of college. "Thought you didn't believe in the supernatural?" Kageyamas voice was incredulous with a slight hint of hope that made Hinata roll his eyes. "I still dont and no matter what you try to tell me, the landlord is not a werewolf and the baristas arent fairys" "Fae" "Whatever, and the bakery isn't run by fairies! Just cause theyve gotten you into the habit of buying coffee from them doesn't mean they put a spell on you."

"Sho, the landlord literally goes on vacation every full moon and dogs love him. And they did!" Hinata rolled his eyes, only he would have a crush on the world's most enthusiastic supernatural believer. "No you just are weak to a good deal. I'm surprised you're awake already,

You went to bed at sunrise...I dont know how you can stand the nightshift, I'd miss the sun too much...not the heat though" He wasn't startled when Kageyama suddenly was by his side, unloading the groceries. He moved freaking quieter than a mouse. "I have tonight and this weekend off so I thought we could have a movie night or something." Hinata immediately agreed, rattling off the list of Halloween movies they absolutely must watch. They had been roommates since Senior year and four years later, Hinata was still

Got giddy everytime Kageyama wanted to spend time with him. He never understood why someone who looked like him, who was as smart and talented as him, wanted to spend time with Hinata. Well, aside from the fact that Hinata was the funniest person alive. At least that's how

Kageyama made him feel, since he always laughed at Hinatas jokes. Not even pity laughs, real ones They cuddled on the couch as they started the marathon. It had started under the guise of Hinata always running hot and needing something to cool him down, and after all these years

It just became natural. The days leading up to Halloween blurred together and Hinata had noticed that Kageyama had been increasingly more touchy, spent even more time with him. Even met him for lunch a few times, which was surprising since he hated waking up early. Hinata tried to not hold out hope that Kageyama had feelings for him too. Hinata got home from work early on Halloween and he was excited because they were going to Kageyamas friends Halloween party. Sho had been begging Kageyama for years to ask for an invite since it was

"Exclusive", though he never would say exclusive to who. Hinata wasn't sure what made him change his mind this year. When he got into his room, he changed into his vampire costume, making sure his hair was slicked back and that the contacts looked good. "Okay Tobi I'm re- hey!!! You told me you weren't dressing up this year!! Bakageyama, you could have gotten me fancy cool fangs too!!! Geez those look so real, how much did they cost?" Hinata didn't mind they were both going as vampires, though his traitor best friend could have shared the link to the deep blood red contacts and the scary realistic fangs that looked like they really could pierce skin. The idea made his knees weak but he couldn't get distracted by the betrayal! "They didn't cost anything. They're real." "Tobi I think I would have known

If you were getting your teeth changed at the dentist." Hinata went into their shared kitchen and grabbed a water bottle, turning around just as Kageyama moved towards him almost like a blur. "Sho, you really have to listen to me for once. Especially if you want to go to the

Party. It's dangerous for humans so you need to be aware" For humans? Maybe Kageyama was more into Halloween then he thought... "Right right well tonight I'm not a human, I'm a vampire!" All that got was a huff of frustration and the next thing Hinata knew was his hand was

Being grabbed and there was a serious look in Kageyamas eyes. "Do you trust me?" "Always." The immediate answer made Kageyama smile but his focus turned to Hinats arm and he bit him. Hinata expected pain, I mean who goes around biting people, so when pleasure built in his

Stomach and a quiet moan escaped his lips, he was confused. Kageyama was drinking his blood. He didn't do it for long, only a few seconds before he unlatched his mouth and licked the small amount of blood from Hinatas skin and his own lips. He stepped forward, caging Hinata in

Against the counter. "The landlord is a werewolf. The bakery is ran by fae, and your roommate is a vampire." Every fiber of Hinates being was screaming that this was a joke, but deep down he knew it was true. I mean, his best friend just drank his blood. "I'm in love with a vampire...?" That was not what he meant to say, outloud at least. Kageyama had a brief flash of surprise on his face before he was crowding into Hinatas space, tilting his chin up so hinata was forced to look up at him. He hated (re:loved) the smirk looking down at him. "You love a vampire. If I was less selfish, I'd say you poor thing, having a vampire love you back" That took Hinatas breath away. Kageyama leaned forward, his lips inches above Hinatas "Only if you want this too"

Hinata nodded and then their lips crashed together and he felt hands grip his waist. He wanted to kiss him forever, and when he opened his mouth and then felt the tip of a fang graze his tongue, he knew forever wasn't enough. When they broke apart, their chests were heaving and

It took Hinata a few seconds to pull his words together. "We can go- we can go to the party next year" He got another victorious grin in response and the next thing he knew, he was straddling Kageyamas lap as they sat on the couch, kissing once more.

[9r7g5h]

A Week of My Enigma - Scents

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Boku no Hero Academia 

Rating: M

Genre: Saucy lmao, but not spicy

AN: A week of Enigma Bakugou prompt fills.

Words: 2154

There wasn't much information on enigmas.

With only one, maybe two born every generation or so, agreeing to be a lab rat for the rest of your life was no way to live, especially when there was no guarantee that the "research" wouldn't end up with your brain on the table of some mad scientist. With the only other two currently known enigmas an old woman in the Philippines and a woman in Australia the same age as his mom, Katsuki wasn't going to be the only one to sign up for being drained and gutted on a regular basis. Thus, the only publicly available information was the stuff that was, well, well known.

His teeth were larger, his scent stronger, his Command more than enough to drive off any potential alphas that might threaten his interests. His quirk was strong, he put on muscle easier, could command a room with ease; as far as everyone else knew, Katsuki had a ticket to an easy life, especially as a pro-hero.

What wasn't well known, and what was the bane of his existence, was his heightened sense of smell, something Katsuki would give up all the benefits of being an enigma for if he could just get rid of it.

It didn't matter most days that UA required all first and second years to take suppressants, no matter their secondary gender; he could still smell them all, the weak ass neutralized oils still building up on their scent glands, just strong enough to tease his nose and make him feel like he needed to sneeze twenty-four seven. At least the smells of the third years and teachers were pure, covered only by the everyday plastic patches that most normal people wore as the third years went through their scent desensitization classes. Those he could adjust to, categorize as pack, friend, or foe, and quickly learn to ignore. But the shitty suppressed smells that the rest of UA gave off just pissed him off, leaving him with a migraine by the end of the day if he tried to focus too much, and an itchy nose all day if he didn't.

Only Deku's smell didn't seem to annoy him, at least not the same way everyone else's did. For a teenaged beta his smell was still so childish, reminding Katsuki of afternoons in the park, evenings cuddling under blankets with ramen and movies, too young to care about the way the world actually worked. Like he hadn't grown a single bit since those days, though just looking at the nerd, his dense bulk and height (not nearly as tall as Katsuki, no, but a decent average nonetheless), told otherwise. It was a smell that paired well with his still present baby face, if not the rest of him.

Perhaps it was that childish reminder, perhaps it was the fact that it'd been there his entire life, but either way Katsuki often found himself taking comfort in Izuku's smell. Standing a little closer than he otherwise would have, or snagging a shirt from his locker to use as a mask when the migraines got too much. It might have been weird, sure, but who was going to question him? The nerd himself was fine with it, and everyone else backed off with a quick growl.

Except...except lately, there’d been something weird going on with Deku. Something was off about his scent the last few days, something that made his jaw ache, the gums around his fangs itch, his mouth fill with saliva and the bitter hint of claiming venom. He knew alphas could claim a beta, could form a mutual bond if they so desired, and he was more than interested in the dork, but it was weird that it was happening now, of all times, after so many years of them knowing each other. There hadn’t been any major change between the two, hadn’t been any quirks that could have set this off, and no one else seemed to notice.

He’d already been planning on courting him, giving him the scented collar that was part of the matching pair that would mark them as potential mates on his birthday, but it was still weird.

Not that he had a lot of time to think about it lately. Midterms were coming up soon, and the idiot squad that had managed to annoy their way into being his pack needed all the help they could get to avoid having to spend the few precious free hours they had off in remedial classes. Again. If he wasn’t running drills with them on a training ground, trying to make sure they were prepared for whatever fuckery their teachers decided to throw at them this time, he was stuck in the common room, surrounded by too many smells, fighting off the pounding in his head as he walked them through advanced calculus.

All things considered, it'd been going well, and there was real hope that they might actually not suck this time. He wouldn't call the feelings in his chest proud, but something close, something he could find a name for later, when they were solving their own homework without him hovering over them.

A future something Katsuki quickly lost all thought of as Izuku walked past the door, heading towards the kitchen to refill his water bottle, the light breeze of his movements sending the slightest hint of his scent towards him.

Fuck.

Katsuki was in control. An omega in heat, an alpha in rut, the nameless hormonal shift betas went through that still made them smell tempting; never once had he flinched at those smells, his enigma control over his baser instincts unshaken. Even Midnight's quirk was less effective on him, needing a stronger dose and longer exposure in order to knock him out, the pheromones fighting against his need to win. Despite the number of times people had called him feral, said he was a villain waiting to happen, Katsuki was in control.

He'd always been in control.

Perhaps that's why the others didn't back away when the low growl started in his throat, confused instead of the scared they should have been. Denki had even looked around the room, searching for some other source of the noise, before acknowledging it was coming from the enigma right in front of him.

An enigma with his eyes blown, mouth dropped to show the grown teeth, drool and venom dropping onto the papers and table before him. Panting and growling even as he waited, muscles tense, eyes locked on the doorframe perpendicular to their set up.

"You ok, Kats?" Mina asked carefully, nudging Kirishima until he hardened and waved his hand in front of his friend's face, not even receiving a blink in response. "You're acting kind of..."

"Dude, you look like you're gone. Stop playing around and tell me the answer to-"

Izuku moved, heading out of the kitchen back towards the elevators that would take him to his room. Away from Katsuki.

He hadn't meant to blow up the table, setting fire to the mountains of papers covering the wood, but he'd been surrounded on all sides, and the quickest way out was over. A snap at the blond, sending him toppling back with a bleeding hand, too close to grabbing him, to stopping him. Kirishima harded just in time, a deep dent in the far wall as he bounced off a support beam, dazed and clothes smoldering. Mina and Sero had been too stunned to move, to interfere, so he left them alone, a harsh snarl over his shoulder the only warning they would get to stay away.

Mate wasn't alone when he caught up, though no true threats. A swift kick to the stomach had Aoyama crying in a ball, the tiny purple fuck screaming and fleeing with a single growl. Leaving him alone with mate, with Izuku, confused but not scared as he was jerked away from helping his friend, as he yelled and tried to get through to Katsuki, ask questions, try and find an answer to what was going on. As he activated his quirk to throw a kick, Katsuki deflecting it at the last moment, putting a hole in the floor that he could hear screaming through.

Don't destroy den, a part of him growled inside. So instead of deflecting the next attack like he knew Izuku was expecting he accepted it, grabbing at his arm, his waist, wrapping himself around his opponent until his front was pressed against Izuku’s back; not to immobilize him, he didn’t give a fuck what he did next, but to give him the leverage he needed to grab Izuku’s hair, yank his head to the side, and sink his teeth into the slightly swollen scent gland presented to him.

He moaned as Izuku went limp beneath him, falling to the floor as blood and oil spilled over his tongue, the smell of an omega snapping into heat filling his nose, the hall, the entire dorm as the suppressants did nothing for this new presentation, enhanced by the particle bond settling into his skin, his bones, every sense telling him this was right. Freeing his teeth, uncaring of the blood that dripped down his teeth or stained his tongue, he rolled them so Izuku was facing upwards, no longer pressed into the wooden floors, his glazed eyes clearing for a moment as Katsuki tilted his head.

“Mate,” was the only thing he could spit out, trying to fight back the need to tear off their clothes, to fuck right there in the hall, uncaring of Aoyama watching them with bemused horror from his fetal position by his dorm. His dick could wait, he needed this, needed to smell himself on Izuku, needed to smell their bond, needed everyone to know he was Izuku’s and Izuku was his. It took a long moment for Izuku to move, to respond, long enough for Katsuki to whine, a pleading sound he would deny he made later, because he begged no one, but eventually Izuku moved, nuzzling at Katsuki’s cheek, his shoulder, his neck.

“Mate,” Izuku agreed, his own teeth breaking skin a moment later, Katsuki’s hips rutting forward at the feeling, curses forced from him at the feeling of it all. At the pain in his neck, the warmth of Izuku below him, slick already wetting his skin as Katsuki groped his ass, his infuriatingly short shorts wet through. Their kiss was bloody, sharpy and metallic as their teeth clashed, painful and the wrong angle as they rutted against each other, unable to think beyond getting closer, fucking and mating and breeding.

“Nest, now,” Izuku whined, and they were standing, his arms around Katsuki’s shoulders, legs tight around his hips, neither of them stopping their desperate movements as Katsuki stepped towards Izuku’s room.

Only to be stopped by fabric wrapping around them, twin capture weapons pulling them in opposite directions, both crying out as Katsuki found himself at Aizawa’s feet, Shinso standing over Izuku. There were others there, he finally realized, teachers and classmates and members of their packs, moving to surround them, getting too close to him, to his mate. Aizawa was smart, Katsuki’s hands forced inwards towards his chest, his eyes instead trained on the snarling omega down the hall snapping at anyone who tried to touch him, both of them trying to squirm and bite and tear themselves free to get back to each other.

Finally Midnight stood between them, half dressed in civilian clothes, her face soft as she knelt between them. “I’m sorry, boys, but we can’t let you two make any pups on school grounds. School policy, not mine. So let’s go to sleep.” He almost got the hand extended towards him, his struggles only increasing as he saw Izuku still, his snarls falling into peaceful snores. He could feel himself falling, though, no matter how hard he fought against the pull of her quirk. “He’s not going anywhere,” Midnight promised, voice soft and soothing, lulling him more, her words comforting as more of her smoke floated under and around his nose. “You’ll both be in the same room when you wake up, just with meds to let you think clearer, ok? It’s ok to sleep, Bakugou, so it’s time to sleep.”

As if knowing what he needed, seeing him fight the effects of her quirk that much more at the suggestion he had to sleep, Ochako slipped into Izuku’s room, throwing a bundle of cloth at the X-rated Hero. She caught it easily, shaking her head as she shook out the shirt.

When she pressed it over her hand, her quirk flowing through the fabric to tinge her quirk with Izuku’s scent, there was no more fighting. Katsuki quickly fell asleep to the smell of his mate, leaving everyone else to deal with their mess, uncaring of what awaited them when they woke.

[END]

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[imalwayskidding]

"Wow, Ayano, what a neat costume!"

[neochan]

PAIRING | haechan x reader

SYNOPSIS | you've had your eye on haechan for a while. who knew a costume frat party would be the time you got to have him.

WC | 2.8k

WARNINGS | alcohol, bunny pet name, panty biting, oral fem receiving, slight nipple play, choking, he spanks reader one time, big dick!haechan, reader calls him daddy once, breeding kink (no mention of pregnancy or kids), acts like a typical dude at the end lmao

A.N | happy hyuck day !

“I won’t bite. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

A deep voice tickles your ear, making you whip your head around. Haechan stands tall, eyes glinting with mischief; his plastic glow-in-the-dark fangs are bared to you in a wide smile. His hands are occupied with two drinks, one which is slightly extended to you.

“Ha Ha.” you say dryly, and snatch the plastic solo cup out of his hand.

The last party of the school year and here you were listening to pathetic jokes from a poorly costumed vampire. You couldn't brag about yours though, the play boy bunny ears were constantly sliding off your head, and the faux tail kept getting pulled by obnoxious frat boys.

Looking around you take it all in. Last party of the semester ... last party with him.

Lee Donghyuck, the boy you can't seem to get out of your head even though he was oblivious to it all. He stood in front of you, handsomer than you've ever seen. Clad in a white button up spotted with fake blood and a black cape tied around his throat by a matching ribbon, all you wanted to do was rip those clothes off of him, but you couldn't. It was out of the question - especially here.

The frat house wasn't exactly the best place for hooking up. Downstairs was cluttered with people and alcohol; basically one big open room, and upstairs was where coke heads took their turns bumping lines. The bathrooms were absolutely nasty and usually covered in piss and vomit by the time you actually wanted to fuck someone.

Who were you kidding? You'd never get the chance to fuck Haechan so there was no use worrying about where the best place was.

You take a sip of your drink, cringing at the bitter burn that slides down your throat, "Is this just straight Titos?" you splutter.

He shrugs nonchalantly, nodding towards the kitchen, "They were all out of mixers."

"Not surprised" You murmur, throwing your head back and drinking the rest in one swallow. Usually the alcohol was gone by now anyways, it was a surprise he came back with Titos.

Haechan's eyes watch you admiringly, twinkling when you spill some of the alcohol down your chin.

"You know," he starts, "This party is kind of lame." He fiddles with the tied bow of his cape for a second before continuing, "I was wondering if you just want to come back to my place and chill?"

Your eyebrows shoot up on their own accord. Was the boy you've had a crush on the last four years asking you to go back to his place?"

"How sober are you?" you question.

"Stone cold."

"Prove it."

"Come back to my place and I'll show you how sober I am."

His words shock you, heat creeping into your cheeks and flushing through your entire body. You can feel your knees go weak.

"I mean, if you want to, that is." his smile stretches from ear to ear, the fangs glowing a bright green.

"Are you going to fuck me?" you ask coyly. It's satisfying to see the way his smile drops and his cheeks grow red, but the next words out of his mouth aren't shy at all.

"Oh little bunny... I'm gonna absolutely ruin you."

☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾

Your back hits the wall alarmingly hard, but you don't even notice. All you can focus on right now is Haechans soft lips moving against your own at a pace way too fervent for the amount of alcohol coursing through your blood. The lack of oxygen leaves you dizzy, fingertips running over his shoulders, trying to steady yourself. His own graze over the supple flesh of your thighs left exposed by your costume.

The bunny ears and fangs are gone now, leaving you both to meld into each other. His lips move from yours to travel down your throat which finally allows you to take a deep breath.

"Fuck Haechan." you whisper, your hands coming up to pull at the hair tickling the nape of his neck. It sends goosebumps down his spine but he doesn't tell you, just keeps giving you wet kisses against your throat and collarbone. By the end of the night he wants you to be painted in bruises.

"You like my tongue?" he coos, darting it out to lick a wet stripe from the base of your neck to your ear lobe, nibbling it just a bit to make you shudder. He ruts against you, and you gasp. You can feel every inch of him through the thin material of his pants - and he's big. You groan and pull him close, capturing his lips in another kiss. He tasted like you always dreamed of - like a cherry blow pop. He did have a thing for those after all.

He pulls away, leaning his forehead against your own, "How about I show you what my tongue can really do?" his trademark grin spreads across his face, almost daring you to accept his offer.

"N- No, I need you in me." You whimper.

"Little bunny wants my cock, hm?"

All of a sudden you feel the floor fall out beneath you, and for a second you think you've passed out because of your alcohol consumption, but all is right when you realize that Haechan has picked you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and throw your arms around his neck squealing at the sensation of being carried.

It's just a few steps to the bed and in no time he's laying you down gently, body caging you against his soft sheets.

"You shouldn't have worn lingerie to the party." He growls, eyes drinking in the sight of your body for the thousandth time tonight, "Other guys shouldn't see you like this."

You roll your eyes, "It was a dress up party, what else was I supposed to wear?"

"A potato sack?" he offers.

"You wouldn't have wanted to fuck me if I wore that."

He's directly overtop of you now, the cross chain around his throat swinging in your face, accidentally brushing the tip of your nose. "I've wanted to fuck you since the moment we met. A potato sack is nothing."

"Then stop talking about it and do it." You groan.

You don't need to ask him twice because as soon as the last word is out of your mouth he's quickly unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it across the room. His cape and pants follow suit and soon he's overtop of you in only boxers. They hid nothing to the imagination, the outline of his cock painfully obvious.

"I think it's your turn bunny."

When you go to undo your bra he stops you, "Let me do it." With ease Haechan undoes your bra and soon your upper body is bare to him, "You're so fucking hot." He groans, dipping his heads down to take one of your perky nipples in his mouth.

The feeling of his hot tongue against your sensitive bud is enough to make you arch up against him, and again, you can feel every inch of him. The thought of how big he is makes your thighs clench together, heat pooling in your panties.

His tongue roves across your skin, sucking harshly. At one point he rolls your nipple between his teeth and it's like nothing you've ever felt.

"Haechan please!" you whine, lifting you hips so maybe he'll get the hint that you want him in you now.

He chuckles, lips skimming down your stomach until they hover right above the waistband of your panties. He looks at you through his dark eyelashes, honey brown eyes glinting with mischief.

"Don't worry bunny, I'm just as impatient, trust me." and with that he sinks his canines into your waistband and drags your panties down. Its unbearably hot, the sight of Haechan holding your panties in his mouth, but as you're whining and moving your legs restlessly, he spits them onto the floor and shoves your thighs apart.

"Just one taste, okay?"

You furiously nod your head and he wastes no time attaching his lips to your core to suckle on your clit.

White hot pleasure shoots through you, "Oh fuck!"

His tongue moves against you with grace, swirling patterns against your swollen clit. Two of his fingers disappear between your legs, easily sliding into you with how wet you were. The stretch of his fingers mixed with his tongue is enough to send you over the edge but you hold back.

"D- Don't wanna cum on your fingers." you whimper, eyes fluttering shut.

He pulls away from you completely, letting you gather your thoughts, "Cum on my cock then." He throws a wink at you before ridding himself of his boxers, and when you catch sight of him you gasp.

Never in all your years of knowing him did you think he was going to be this big. His cock stands tall against his abdomen, his pretty pink tip leaking precum.

He must have seen your eyes widen because he chuckles, "Understand why I wanted to eat you out a little first?"

Dumbly you nod your head, "I want you to fuck me."

"Bunny, you've said that already."

The muscles in his stomach contract when he palms his hard on, slowly stroking himself. Air hisses between his teeth when he touches his tip, eyes fluttering closed with the sensation.

You pout, throwing your fists against the comforter, "Then why're you taking your time!!"

Leaning overtop of you, your eyes following his every move, he lines himself up you’re your entrance, teasing you a bit before gently pushing into you, "Been thinking about this for a while, just wanted to do it right." He grits his teeth, the overwhelming urge to just completely bottom out and fuck into you almost overtaking the rational side of his brain.

The fact that he had been thinking about this almost as much as you sends a tingle through your body. It was nice to know the attraction was mutual and not just a one night stand the last night you were supposed to see each other.

You inhale sharply, the sensation of his thick cock stretching you out making you lose touch with reality. You fumble to grip onto something and end up using his shoulders as a grounding spot. Your nails dig into his honey golden skin, surely leaving red crescents for him to later discover.

He pushes into you slowly, inch by inch, until he’s completely buried in your cunt. You were so fucking wet, Haechan didn’t know how long he was going to be able to play nice for.

"You don't have to be gentle. I won't break.” You whisper.

Guess he didn’t have to play long.

“I don’t plan on being gentle.” He grunts, pulling out of you completely just to slam back into you, a piercing moan falling from your lips, “I said I was gonna ruin you, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing .”

He starts thrusting into you fast, his hips slamming into yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin permeating the otherwise still air. The chain around his throat keeps hitting your nose and at one point he grabs it and throws it over his shoulder. He can’t be bothered with little shit like that when he has such a pretty fucking girl underneath him.

His hands are braced on either side of your face, fingers twisting the fabric of the sheets, bunching it up until he’s clenching it in his fist. You feel so goddamn good, so tight, so wet … for him.

“Haechan! Fuck, you’re so big.” Sobs wrack your chest, eyes going crossed as he pounds into you, one hand wrapping itself around your throat. He squeezes a little and takes satisfaction in the way your eyelids flutter.

He shushes you, “I know bunny, I know. Just take it, I know you can.” He dips down to kiss you, his lips perfectly aligning with yours, “You’re doing so well. Being such a good girl for me.” He mumbles against you.

You feel the band in your stomach start to tighten, and between that and Haechans words, you put your hand on his stomach trying to get him to slow his movements.

He glances down, “Move your hand.”

“No, It’s too much.” You squeak out, but he doesn’t care.

“I said move your fucking hand.” With each word he thrusts all the way into you, brushing your g-spot every time.

You don’t listen to him, instead pushing against his abdomen even harder. He retaliates by closing his fist a little tighter, cutting off even more oxygen. The lack sends you into a head high, eyes crossing again, but you refuse to give in.

A dry laugh leaves his lips, “Fine.” He pulls out of you completely and taps your hip, “Flip over.”

Completely struck by how hot he was commanding you, you comply and flip over, face down ass up. He pushes back into you without warning, forcing your body to shoot forward. “Give me your hands.” He groans, reaching for your wrists. When they’re securely in his hand, he uses the leverage to fuck into you deeper.

“Fuck!” you cry.

“Take it little bunny.” He grunts, letting go of your wrists and pushing your face into his pillows instead. His scent fills your nostrils – cherry blow pops and some kind of cologne. Feeling his cock filling you up mixed with the intense smell of him sends you into another head high.

Your walls clench around him every time he thrusts into you and it almost makes him lose his mind, but there was something he wanted to do first. He stills his movements inside of you, leaving you panting.

“Why’d you stop?” you moan, but you’re sure the pillow muffled you too much for him to make out what you said so you start moving on your own accord. He lets go of your head and throws his arms up behind his own, admiring the way you back up against him.

"Yeah, that's right, throw that ass back little bunny."

The sight is almost enough to make him cum, but he holds back, gazing at the way your pussy swallows him.

You were growing impatient. This wasn’t filling your needs like before, “Haechan!!” you whine.

“Yeah, yeah.” He spits, grabbing a handful of your ass and fucking into you faster now. He couldn’t contain himself; you were just that fucking hot. "Want me to fill you up?” he whispers, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. When he sees you shake your head as much as the pillows can allow, his mind turns crazed, "Gonna watch it drip out of your pretty pussy."

Your arms are thrust out to the side, gripping the sheets between your fingers, “Please Haechan! Want your cum so bad. Need it, please!”

"God you're such a slut." He groans, “Love the way your ass moves when I fuck into you.” One of his hands smacks your ass, a thin pain spreading throughout your bottom.

Your high-pitched moans rang throughout the room, pushing Haechan closer to his orgasm.

“Want you to fill me up daddy!” the name slips from your tongue too easily for Haechan to ignore it… not like he could though, because it tickles the right part of his brain and soon, he’s emptying ropes of cum into you.

The thought of him filling you up and then realizing it was actually happening has you clutching the sheets for dear life as your own orgasm wracks through you. Your walls spasm around him, milking every last drop from him.

For a second nobody moves and all you can hear is Haechan breathing rapidly as he tries to come down from his high. You shift so that your face is turned to the side, and you can finally breathe but you start laughing instead. “This… this is not how I thought the night was gonna go.”

“Me neither.” He agrees.

Slowly, he pulls out of you, making sure not to get any on the sheets below him. You flip over on your back and reach a hand over the edge of the bed fishing for a shirt or something to clean yourself up with. You end up grabbing one of Haechans shirts to which he just shrugs and lets you do your thing.

When you’re done you toss it into the corner of his room, not caring where it lands.

“God that was so good.” He smiles over at you, eyes crinkling in the corner.

You hum in response, eyelids fluttering shut. The alcohol in your system mixed with the workout you just did has left you exhausted and all you were craving was sleep.

“You can stay here tonight. I’m sure we have a lot to talk about in the morning.” He says softly, one arm propped up, watching as you slowly slip away into dreamland, the promise of tomorrow with the boy you’ve liked for the past four years sure to bring you happy dreams.

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.

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A.N | happy haechan day!!!! i wanted to give you guys something a little special bc of the celebration! i heard he got covid though so i hope he recovers fast </3 also.. send feedback please.

[emeren]

bloodlust ☤ 1

taglist  ☤  masterlist  ☤  archive of our own  ☤  next chapter >> 

“The devil and I get along just fine...”

Pairing: Fem!reader x Vampire!Eren 

Word Count: 5.1 k 

Chapter Warnings: Blood, anxiety

Chapter Summary: Reader, a nurse, finds themselves facing a fanged beast, unsure what to make of the world. But this devil with dark hair may not have the intentions you think. 

☤ this work of fiction deals with vampires. in turn, there will be discussions of blood and minimal gore. it will also include nsfw content in the near future. all chapters will be marked appropriately☤

Moonlight soaked the path towards his freedom. It danced and reflected off of the dew coated blades of grass. Each one emulated a life he planned to save, with the destruction of his  people and the protection of the person he cared for most in the world. She had yet to materialize into something more than the soft breeze of a memory.

He was hungry; the tortuous cry of his instinct to ravage told him so. However, years of training and restraint had yielded him more than capable of swallowing his own desire. The one thing he sought most weighed heavier than impotent monstrous actions. For his goal, he could resist the craving to release his sharpened fangs.

He allowed his eyes one last glance over the house he’d called home for the past four years; dark and gloomy against the stormy night sky. Soon, those who’d chained him in shackles and dragged him to the cellar would be amiss in panic. Wrought iron bars that once caged his devilish soul would be found empty. A beast was on the run.

He felt brief sorrow for those he would hurt in the process of securing their freedom from a pained existence. But he’d made up his mind. All that was left to do was to head north.

His nimble hands pulled the dark hood of his coat above his head. He took one deep breath, the entrancing smell of rain and dirt wafting through the air.

North, to the person that occupied his past, present, and future. To freedom.

☤    ☤    ☤

You considered yourself well suited to the role you’d decided to serve for the rest of your life. Time spent meticulously memorizing health patterns and disease characteristics had broadened your sense of confidence. Doubt rarely ever plagued your mind past the childish decision of what to eat for breakfast in the morning.

Nursing had not always been your final destination in life; the unprecedented scared you enough to mark healthcare as a profession to avoid. Losing two parents unexpectedly in high school due to a mysterious illness had been enough to change your once convinced mind.

Your rain jacket was slick with the slight precipitation clouding the late night sky as you entered the hospital locker room -- a weak cup of coffee in hand, marred with a ring of chapstick residue against the lip. Night shifts were often greeted with unrelenting misery on your behalf.

“You look excited to be here,” The familiar tone of your coworker hummed from behind you. There seemed no force strong enough to concur surprise in your unrested eyes. Historia was someone who lacked a certain fear factor in most aspects of her being, anyways.

“I didn’t see you when I came in, Historia,” You answered, eyes glancing over your shoulder to take in the blonde-haired nurse. Despite having walked in the rain the same as you, her demeanor was much more spritely.

She gave you a smile, following you towards your adjacent lockers. “Ah, I came in the back entrance today.”

“You’re awfully chipper for someone who’s working the night shift,” Your half-assed attempt at being friendly mingled with the clammer of your locker. Historia chuckled softly from behind her door.

“I prefer the night shift, actually. Isn’t this your third night on?” She asked. You slipped your wet jacket from your shoulders, shaking it slightly before hanging it in the metal box.

“Yeah, it is. Can’t say I enjoy it as much as you do,” You lightly closed the door, Historia doing the same. Overt kindness wasn’t a trait you claimed when burnt out on work; she knew this and gave you no foul for it.

Her blue eyes crinkled in the ghost of a smile. “Not a creature of the night, hm?”

“I’m no vampire, that’s for sure,” You chuckled. Historia’s smile faltered slightly. It came as no surprise that she was afraid of monsters and ghouls. You decided to change the subject in her favor. “Speaking of, I hear it’s a full moon tonight.”

“Oh?” Her eyes widened, coy smirk wiggling its way back onto her blushed cheeks. Despite your adverse to the unknown, you enjoyed indulging in childish hospital rumors. The notion that weird cases spiked on nights when the moon was full in the sky was a tale as old as time; strange people flooded the hospitals, with even stranger injuries and illnesses. Or so that was what people said, not that you’d ever experienced it yourself. “I wonder if anything crazy will happen tonight.”

“Doubt it,” You stepped aside, allowing her to match your stride as the two of you headed towards the conference room for a briefing before the shift. She hummed in agreement, the rest of the walk done in a comfortable silence.

The room for debriefing was a mundane conference set up. The walls were a bleached white; anatomy posters and warnings about the harmful nature of cigarettes decorating the walls. An oval desk surrounded by blue, plastic chairs took up most of the room. It smelled like microwaved Kraft, courtesy of a nurse scarfing down a last helping before their shift started.

“That’s odd,” Historia frowned, blue eyes tracing the room. Staff sat around in quiet huddles, most silently waiting for the briefing to start. She glanced down at her watch before nudging you in the arm. “Where’s Doctor Smith? We start in two minutes.”

The tall, burly man was never late for a briefing; his stoic nature didn’t allow room for such a lack. He had never given you a reason to doubt his trust, but something about his demeanor made you uneasy. He commanded a room with such conviction that your coworkers fell to his feet with unadulterated respect; you, a mindless sheep following their lead. Rational thought would’ve placed your discomfort on his position of power and his role as your boss. Simply put, however, he gave you the creeps.

The plastic chair skidded against the polished floor as you took your seat at the table beside Historia. The older staff coughed and occasionally grumbled, filling the tired silence with a sense of annoyance. Your blonde coworker sensed your gripe, elbowing you in the ribs and leaving a crease in your lilac scrubs. You suppressed a smile.

“Pardon me,” Doctor Smith’s commanding voice echoed through the room before he stepped in the doorway. Your muscles tensed; back straightening as if to give the illusion that you hadn’t been hunched over, looking exhausted and miserable. His blond hair was perfectly sculpted; not a strand out of place and not a wrinkle in his blue dress shirt. His lab coat was almost a sickeningly bleached titanium. “Sorry for my tardiness; I was dealing with an emergency back home.”

Historia shifted beside you.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” He gave a terse smile before picking his clipboard off of the table and flipping through the papers. “Looks like we’ve got the regular scheduling for this evening. As usual, the night shift staffing is lighter than our other shifts, so remember to be vigilant and take action without being told to.”

You tended to tune out the mundane precautions and warnings that were part of a pre-shift briefing. Outside the window, rain pattered against the glass pane. The shower provided a sense of comfort; rain often preceded a night spent inside, wrapped in blankets with a mug of hot tea. Though your current schedule didn’t allow room for such indulgence, you took a small delight in the weather condition.

Historia bumped your knee with her own under the table. You glanced at your friend, slightly alarmed from your daze. She leaned over, attempting to discreetly whisper in your ear. “He looks distracted tonight, hm? Wonder what that’s about.”

Your eyes glanced at Doctor Smith, who was reading through the clipboard with a staccato like urgency. Not wanting to cause any disturbance, you nodded your head in agreement.

“We’ll follow through with our regular assignments. If you don’t know where you’re located this evening, I suggest checking the bulletin in the locker room. As for this meeting, you’re all free to go,” His blue irises scanned the faces of all the employees, searching for confusion or questions to be answered. You averted your gaze, following suit as the rest of the room erupted in moving chairs and shuffling scrubs.

You already knew where you were working for the night; the same place as the last two, over in the geriatrics wing. This night would be the same as the others, not that you were in any place to be upset about that.

“Y/N!” Historia’s voice called you to look over your shoulder, barely out of the conference room. She had a slimy smile on her face; the kind that reeked of favors and avoidance. You felt the need to control your eyebrow from rising in annoyance. “Can I ask you something?”

You exhaled from your nose. “Shoot.”

“I have a patient in room 702 that I was assigned to,” The slightest batting of her mascara slicked lashes, blue irises working their hardest to win you over. You raised your eyebrows, urging her to continue. The other staff shuffled by you, sparing nosy glances. “I was wondering if you could take it? I’ll work in the geriatrics wing tonight for you.”

You had to give it to the tiny woman; for all she was worth, she was great at getting people to do what she wanted. You valued her responsibility and reliability, and she’d proved to be a friendly presence in the workplace. However, that didn’t stop you from seeing the selfish underbelly of her prosperous actions.

“What’s the patient in for?” You humored her. Even if her request was self-fulfilling, you figured might as well use it to your own advantage. Almost anything beat another night in geriatrics changing diapers and administering pill dosages.

“A blood transfusion,” She responded, smiling softly at you. “I’m not very good with bloody things, you know. Easily squeamish.���

You pretended to ponder whether or not to take her up on her offer. It was an easy choice, really. “Yeah, sure. What blood type are they?”

☤   ☤   ☤

The stand rattled unpleasantly against the tiled ground as you stopped in front of room 702. The thick bag of blood shook slightly from the sudden stop. How Historia had ever become a nurse when grossed out with the concept of blood, you weren’t sure. It seemed that her sweet disposition often aided her in whatever situation she needed to change for the better. You were an adult woman though, so whatever her motivations might’ve been didn’t concern you.

You gave the cart a once over, making sure all the necessary tools and items were there: a needle, an IV, gauze, those sorts of things. Blood transfusions were a typically fussless procedure; tediously watching the red liquid pump itself into the body.

Your knuckles lightly knocked on the door. “Hello, I’m here to give you your blood transfusion!”

Silence, beating through the empty hallway of the hospital. The lights were dimmed and eerily abandoned. You waited for ten seconds before opening the door to the sleepy room.

The heavy door creaked open, revealing he who was to be given blood. Historia had mentioned he was a John Doe, lying unconscious on the bleached sheets. You turned back to grab your cart, not bothering to be quiet. He’d be awake soon enough, anyway.

As you wheeled it in, your back was to the patient. The cart squeaked and rattled, stopping at the foot of the bed. You turned around, ready to rouse him from his slumber.

Beautiful.

You’d had attractive patients before. Both men and women who floated by life with the easy wings of accurately placed facial features to boost them up. A pretty face often had heat rising to your cheeks, but professionalism stopped you from thinking any further. Natural biological responses couldn’t be helped, after all.

Never had a patient left your lips parting in awe, heart drumming up it’s own beat of excitement in your chest. His face was slim; sharp jawline and a large, broad nose peeking out into the air. Pale cheeks barely dusted by the pink of an almost intangible blush. His eyelashes were long and thick, jutting out against the purple hue of his impossibly dark circles. Hair the color of old driftwood swirled and bunched on his pillow. He had to have been one of the most attractive people you’d ever treated, let alone seen.

What color were his eyes? Were they a dark brown, one to match the nature of his hair color? Or were they green, contrasting his pale skin? You began to feel eager to find out, more excited to know and learn as your gloved hand gripped his broad shoulder. You frowned at the frigid temperature of his skin.

“Excuse me, sir,” You gently shook, trying not to give away the way your body was reacting. There was no place for hormonal displays in your line of work, and despite his undeniable beauty, you were determined to remain professional.

His eyelids snapped open with such a speed you had to compose yourself not to trip backwards. Contrary to what you thought, his irises were a pale, almost sickly greyish blue. They held no gleam; no life behind them. Disturbance washed over your brain, warning bells going off in your mind. He looks slightly… feral?

He jolted upwards, confusion knotted on his once peaceful face. You stumbled backwards slightly, hip clipping on the cart.

“Who are you?” His voice was gravelly, as if it hadn’t been used in quite some time. Blue eyes stared at you with such an uncertainty it made your head spin.

“I’m your nurse, I’m here to give you your blood transfusion,” You gestured towards the cart and stand, a red bag hanging from it like a token of peace. Despite his prickly reaction, you weren’t frightened.

“I feel like I’ve met you before,” He said, eyes squinted. Analyzing you, trying to pick apart your being, yet there you stood before him, a marvel to be held. He briefly glanced to the side; not more than a millisecond were his eyes off you before they were back, filled with unadulterated panic. “Where- where is Historia?”

You frowned, a little perturbed. “She asked to swap-”

“I need you to leave, now.” He growled, voice deep and authoritative. You widened your gaze, taken aback by his demanding request. The sheet fell from around his shoulders, bare chest exposed. Large hands raced to his face, hiding the features you’d once considered beautiful. “Get out of here!”

“Are you alright?” You panicked, stepping closer to the bed. His large form began shaking, knees drawing towards his chest from under the blanket. He appeared to be in pain; like a wounded animal.

“Fuck,” He yelled, breathing becoming labored. There wasn’t time to ponder. Was he having a panic attack? Was he going into shock? Questions didn’t need to be asked, you just knew that you needed to act. “I said leave!”

“No, I need to help you with whatever-” His hand shot off of his face, long, black claws sharpening from his fingers. You became fear stricken, his palm connecting with your chest. It sent you stumbling backwards, tripping over the wire to the heart monitor and slamming into the wall with your back. Tendrils of pain clamored up your spine.

“Close your eyes,” He rose from the bed, both hands dropping from his face. You couldn’t see his eyes, fist clutching your scrubs above your heart. Uncertainty. Terror, facing death like this. A monster stood before you, created by the devil himself. Tall, foreboding, chest heaving. His neck snapped upwards; wide, red eyes piercing into your thinly veiled soul. He spoke something like a garbled beast. “Promise me you’ll close your eyes.”

You didn’t respond. There were no words to be spoken. Between his pink lips glinted a pair of large, sharp incisors. “Promise!”

You reverberated with his words, wincing and shutting your eyes involuntarily. He didn’t want you to watch as he slaughtered you. “I-I promise!”

The loud clamor of metal colliding with the polished floor had you breaking your promise mere seconds after it’d been made.

He stood, illuminated by the fluorescent bulbs like an angel ascending to heaven. The bag, once an object you’d believed to be a healing beacon, clutched between clawed hands. His teeth, bare to the world, puncturing the thick plastic as though it were paper.

His adam’s apple bobbed rhythmically as he swallowed mouthfuls of thick, red blood. It was as if he’d been starved; knees buckling and desperate blood sucking so intense that his legs could no longer support his body weight. He knelt on the once clean floor.

The twine that connected your sense of reality and rationale had been pulled taut -- pieces of the frayed string snapping and threatening to drop you into depths unknown. Uncertainty had always been a foreign concept; you’d been given the option to study your circumstance and fully conceptualize it before going head first into a situation.

That’s what had intrigued you about being a nurse; though the job seemed like a bull in a china shop, you’d learned every reason why or how that bull ended up there and what exactly you needed to do to get it out.

You lacked the expertise or even the understanding to handle this particular situation. What studying could’ve been done? Reading horror stories or watching Twilight as a teenager with your friends? Even then, the probability of this happening to you felt like it should’ve been a zero percent chance.

You liked knowing what to do. Thrived on it, actually. This man, tall and dangerous, presented you with no opportunity to know. There was no textbook on how to handle a vampire, as childish as it felt to recognize that that’s what this was.

You’d been so sure. So convinced that there was no possibility of this heinous monster being an actual thing to walk the same crusted earth as you. Yet here he was, dawning the shape of a man and the face of an angel. How could someone so beautiful be so terrifying?

The hospital wall was cold against your back, the distant hammering of an organ that no longer felt placed in your chest rang true against your clenched fist. You felt the chilling call to move, to rise from your place and run. You didn’t know where, but the muscles in your thighs screamed a silent symphony.

He made quick work of the bag, like it was nothing and had never been anything in the first place. Who had donated that blood? They were probably asleep somewhere, lying in a bed and dreaming of a different world. A world where their charitable donation wasn’t being consumed by a devil before your terrified soul.

The red liquid oozed from his lips and dripped onto his barren chest. You hadn’t moved since you’d collided with the wall what felt like an eternity ago. Your ears rung rapidly with the obnoxious blood flow to your overstimulated brain.

Eyes the shade of a blue jay traced from a pair of blood soaked claws up towards your face, following the path of destruction. Though shock and fear reverberated through your every nerve, the softness in his gaze dulled a small part of your terror. He looked guilty, holding his dripping hands in front of his face like he’d just committed murder.

“You promised to close your eyes,” A voice so small, as if he’d known you your whole life and you had just witnessed a character altering situation. Something echoed in the back of his words, something that sounded like resentment. You couldn’t tell if it was directed at your prying eyes or himself.

“I- I didn’t, I mean, I tried not to but,” You were at a loss. A loss for a way to communicate how you were feeling, a loss for sanity in the world. The monster before you scowled, as if scolding a child who’d disobeyed their parent. “What are you?”

He brought his bloody hands to the floor; you noted that the claws were gone. “I figure it’s pretty obvious at this point. Can’t you tell?” He whispered.

“But vampires aren’t-” His steely gaze hardened at your choice of words. “They aren’t real, are they?”

“They are,” He responded, looking at you with such a strong emotion that you shifted uncomfortably against the wall. What was he thinking? Those eyes looked like they were fixed on someone he cared deeply for, not someone he’d met mere minutes ago. “But you weren’t supposed to know that, which is why I asked you not to open your eyes.”

“You started drinking a bag of blood right in front of me!” You whisper-yelled, brows knitting together to display your slight frustration. The wonder and fear still laid active in your chest, but something about him was familiar and comforting, despite his gruesome actions. You couldn’t explain exactly why you knew he would bring you no harm. “Of course I was going to open my eyes. If I’m not supposed to know, why would you do that right in front of me?”

His scowl deepened. “I tried to warn you. I haven’t had any blood in awhile and I lost control of myself.”

“What happens now?” Your question came out smaller than intended, unfamiliarity rising in your abdomen. The thick stench of blood was beginning to make your intestines twist in disgusting unease.

The question sought to strike a chord in the young man’s features; a grim and saddened look swept across his sharp attributes. His hand came up to pinch his temples, unperturbed by the bloody fingerprints left in its wake. “We have to get out of here, and fast. If we don’t, the people who are after me will kill you.”

“Kill me?” The word had a different sense of fear wafting over you; the kind that pricked your eyes with the sensation to shed tears. He looked pained. “I can tell them that I didn’t see anything, I can promise that I never saw you and-”

“It doesn’t work like that,” He snapped, glancing at you with irritation. His harsh tone forced your pleas to die unsaid in your throat. “The people following me aren’t rational. One of them will also be able to tell you’re lying.”

“So then, what am I supposed to do?” You cried, allowing the bottled up and suppressed emotions to spill over the thin wall of resolve that his comforting presence provided. He didn’t flinch but remained in serious tranquility. “I’m supposed to leave here and hit the road with some random man, who is a fucking vampire, and what? Hope for the best?”  

He looked away from you, blood-covered face staring at the hospital bed that he’d once occupied. “It’s my fault you’re stuck in this now. I owe you enough to protect your life as best as I can.”

You were in hysterics. What sort of ultimatum was this? Stay and die or leave and risk dying? Another predicament that couldn’t be solved with the aid of literary education. Resentment was beginning to build in your own chest. Diving into an unexplored depth of the ocean, brimming with creatures and lore that you had never predicted to be real.

“Hey,” You snapped back to reality. The man before you scooted forwards slightly. Though his face was that of a devil, soaked in another’s blood and deathly pale, his movement had your chest tightening in something other than fear. “I won’t let them hurt you. I promise, if you come with me, you’ll be safe until I can get them off our tail. Then I’ll take off and they’ll follow me, leaving you alone.”

Sticky tears trailed down your cheeks, eyes burning. When did you start crying? “How -- how can you be so sure? How can I trust you?”

He was on his hands and knees in front of you now, sharp nose half a foot away from your face. Any call to breathe was put on hold, teary eyes widening slightly at his stare. It was soft and open, trusting in the strangest way. His dark hair hung around his face.

“My goal is to rid the world of demons such as myself. That’s why they’re after me, and why they would take your life to guarantee silence. When I’m finished with what I want to accomplish, I will be dead and so will they. I have nothing to gain by hurting you. I promise to keep you alive long enough to see the end of this.”

Your lips parted in awe. The conviction in his tone was that to lead an entire army into battle; to create religions and cult followings. Blessed be the demon who wished to take down his own kind.

You had spent years convincing yourself to trust in what others told you to follow. Self-intuition wasn’t enough to breed a successful nurse; you needed the expertise of studies and procedures done before you. You required the necessary tools that others had used and approved of. Your heart’s certainty had no place in medicine. It had no place in the tried and true.

The man slowly rose one freezing hand towards your face, apprehensively watching for your reaction. You sat unmoving, owl-eyed. His palm caressed your chin, cold thumb swiping the tear from your cheek, smearing blood in its wake. “Find it in your heart to trust me.”

The conviction of his words rang lightning through your veins, mouth speaking without precedented thought. “Okay.”

He rose from his crouched position, offering a red hand to help you up from against the wall. You shook your head. There had been enough blood sharing for the evening, sanitation crossing your mind as you shakily slid along the rough plaster, bracing yourself to display a toughness that you weren’t sure you contained.

The rule of thumb not to trust those whom you don’t know played a soft melody in your heart. Mothers’ warnings and fathers’ lectures. Apparently all you had been told fell upon deaf ears, clouded with the hazy judgement of a life threatening situation. But in circumstances such as these, did the general rule apply? You were left to ponder.

“Hey, wait,” You frowned, a dumbfounded feeling crossing your mind as the man stepped towards the opposite side of the room. He stopped and turned, sharp jaw jutting against his mane. “What even is your name?”

“Oh,” He turned back towards the other side of the room. You didn’t follow. The door was the opposite direction, so whatever business he had over there did not concern you. “It’s Eren. And you?”

You felt a slight heat rise to your cheeks at the confession of his name. It was beautiful, feeling somehow appropriate for his physical appearance. “It’s Y/N.”

“Ah,” He responded, as if he already knew. You scoffed inwardly at his tone, still anxiously pressed against the wall. His blood stained hand rose to the latch on the window, attempting to open it.

“Why are you opening the window?” You questioned, noticing a beep from out in the hallway. The door stood open, allowing passersby to witness the blood on the floor and your cheek, as well as this man called Eren, who appeared straight out of a horror movie.

Closing the wooden door meant deciding with certainty to trust him; to follow him and hope that whatever tales of murderous vampires he’d shared had been truthful. To step away from the knowledge and the comfort of your current life. It implied that no one would see you in there with him and come to your rescue.

They will kill you.

Your hand gently clicked the heavy door into its place.

Turning back to Eren, you noticed his hand wrapped around the latch to the window. He was frozen in place, watching you make your final choice.

“You didn’t answer my question,” You reiterated. Eren turned back towards the glass. His reflection wavered slightly in the shine.

“This is how we’re getting out of here,” Eren responded, pulling the latch and shoving the window open as far as it would go. It stopped at about two inches, for safety reasons.

Disbelief once again danced across your mind, pulling you into what was beginning to feel like a new equilibrium. “If you’re planning to leap out of that window, it only opens that far.”

He ignored you, bringing his bloodied palms up against the glass. It appeared as though he merely shoved it; so light that it shouldn’t have budged. It shouldn’t have moved at all. The heavy window snapped at its industrialized hinges, pummeling down towards the ground below.

He glanced at you from over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised semi-smugly. You gawked back; simultaneously impressed by his strength as well as put off. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll die if I jump from here,” You scoffed, still not moving from your place. Eren stared back emotionlessly. He stepped towards the bed, reaching beneath it and pulling out what appeared to be a black hooded jacket.

He swung it over his shoulders, pulling the hood above his head. “I know. If you ride on my back, you won’t die.”

“Are you always this mundanely serious about fucking supernatural shit like this?” You spat. There was a warmth beginning to settle in your face as well as your core; heated by the idea of being so close to him.

“Yes,” He retorted, walking towards you so quickly you thought your head would start spinning. “No time to waste with your endless questions.”

He reached down, abruptly swooping you up from behind your thighs, effectively gripping you bridal style.

“Eren, put me down. Put me down!” You started squirming as he thundered towards the open window. You hated heights as much as the next person; they were fine in retrospect, but made you dizzy when in close proximity. Eren seemed unbothered by your quiet cries of protest.

“Eren, I swear to god,” You brought your fist to his broad chest. He ignored you, stepping onto the ledge of the window. Against any better judgement you still retained, your eyes glanced towards the drop. Your stomach sank, becoming a heavy boulder in the bottom of your abdomen. “Fuck, put me down!”

He stared down at you. A gaze so tranquil that the rest of the scene seemed to fade away. You became hyper-aware of his bare chest which you were pressed against; that unfamiliar churning in your core spreading towards your limbs.

“Hold still, or I’ll drop you.”

☤   ☤   ☤

next chapter >>

tagging: @sunshinedragonofthewest​ @ryukatters​

[nightwingshero]

WIP Day, Yay!!!

I was tagged by the ever amazing @xbaebsae to post a WIP! Thank you, lovely!!!

Tagging: @euryalex @chazz-anova @cousingregstan @sstewyhosseini @water-writings @pen-in-hand @simonxriley @playstationmademe @geronimo-11 @fadedjacket @minilev @beemot @chyrstis @strafethesesinners @cobb-vanthss @ziorre @smithandrogers @hoesephseed @foofygoldfish 

Have some of Randy’s oneshot I’ve been working on for way too long and it definitely needs work and uhhhh, you know, to be finished.

Merle twisted his face as I walked back to the office. “You kiddin’ me? Now you listen here, Miller. Those two boys ain’t worth my fuckin’ time. Weirdos, they are. You hear about that Adelaide Drubman? Word is she’s got her claws on some young college kid now. Him and a few friends stopped in for spring break or some shit, looked at her, and decided to stay a bit longer for the experience, if you catch my drift.”

“I don’t need to fuckin’ know that, Merle.” My tone was a little clipped when I turned to look back at him. He threw his hands up in the air in defense.

“Alright, alright. I hear yah, buddy. Loud and clear. I’m just sayin’ that a titty bar would be fun and we ain’t got one here. A bunch of the guys are goin’.”

Scoffing under my breath, I shake my head. I was almost curious to see what the roster for that had turned out to be, but I spared myself the fucking nightmare. I find the Jeep paperwork, filling out the invoice to reflect the work that was done. New brakes and tire rotation and alignment with a quick oil change. Easy enough.

“I’m sure y’all will have fun, mate. I got shit to do and I ain’t interested.” I mumbled as I rubbed my beard, no longer paying much attention.

Aaaaaand here’s some of my Haikyuu vampire au because apparently we’re dragging myself today. Don’t look at me. I REPEAT, DO NOT LOOK AT ME.

“I already died, what does it matter?” The words were barely more than a rasp and my throat erupted in invisible flames from the effort, but it doesn’t dull the harsh tone. I didn’t think it through, the words left before I even realized I was replying. I wasn’t even sure what my intention was at this point. But whatever mark I had aimed at, the words struck true and for the first time since I had met him, Kuroo bared his fangs at me in pure fury. Whatever semblance of a heart I had in my chest had stilled, my breath catching as his demeanor changed. He quickly shot the glass back, draining the contents before turning and reaching for the bag on the table. I was confused—and a bit terrified—as I watched him, unsure how to navigate whatever shift had happened. I had seen him angry, seen him vicious and cold, but it was always with a gently but firm arm around my waist or shoulders, a hand sometimes resting against my lower back. It was always aimed at someone else, never me. For a moment, I worried that perhaps he would finish me off. But he brought the bag to his mouth and used his teeth to rip into the plastic before pouring a healthy amount into the glass. After tossing the bag back where it laid before, blood pooling on the wooden table, he paused for a moment, as if waiting for something—giving me a chance to move or do something. But I didn’t. So he shot back another glassful, his mouth full as red liquid seeped through his lips just a bit. He didn’t swallow, however. He just held it in his mouth.

And took a step forward.

My eyes widened, and for the first time since being placed in here, I felt fully awake. Enough to realize just how bad I had truly gotten. “No…no.” The words were nothing but a rasp, but I knew he could hear me—could understand me. That didn’t make him stop in his approach, however, and I began to scramble to put more distance between us. Before, I probably would have put up a better fight, even if he would have found it amusing—like he usually did—I would have been able to at least try. But my body was too weak from just laying in bed, refusing to feed to maintain any sort of health by their standards. My arms shook as I tried to prop myself up, as I tried to move away, and I just collapsed against the mattress as my attempts to scoot closer to the other side became futile. Kuroo moved swiftly, gracefully climbing on the bed and sliding up close. Tears swam in my eyes as he wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close as he gently held me, almost cradling me against his chest as he laid on his side beside me. It was enough to stun me, but not enough to keep my hands from trying to shove him away—no matter how pathetic the attempt—as I continue to try to tell him to go away. It caused something in his hazel eyes to flicker as he used his free hand to gently caress my cheek.

If I hadn’t known better, I would have said it was sorrow.

It was gone in a second. His gentle caress—his thumb tracing my cheekbone delicately—quickly transformed into a firm grip on my jaw. I gasped from shock as panic filled my chest, but it gave him the perfect opportunity to squeeze, forcing to keep my mouth open as he quickly ducked down, crashing his lips hard against mine. An opened mouth kiss that would have been obscene to witness allowed the dark liquid to pour into my mouth as my nails dug into his shoulder. I tried hard to spit it back as I kept my throat closed, trails of red warmth escaping from the kiss and meeting his fingers

[deejadabbles]

Vampire Atem/Yami Alphabet Headcanons

Found this list of vamp-themes headcanons by @an-annyeoing-writer and I knew I had to do them for our favorite king-turned-spirit!

For those of you who read my Spells of Defiance series, these headcanons can be taken as 100% canon to that AU <3

A - Accident - would they turn someone to save their life?

Oof, already starting with a hard one. So, Atem is one of those vampires who hates his existence, he believes it’s a curse. However, he does still love and care for people deeply, and he knows that for many, life is sacred even if it’s a cursed life. I think in a moment of weakness, especially in his earlier years as a vampire, he might turn someone just because he’s desperate not to lose them, only to regret his decision later, especially if that someone is like him and hates what they’ve become. We all make mistakes, right?

B - Bite - how do they bite? Sensually, aggressively? Do they make it hurt or try to be gentle?

Atem is extremely gentle when he feeds off of people, always careful not to bite too deep or tear the skin more than needed, he even holds you and tries to soothe you with gentle strokes of his hands. Now, whether he tries to make it “sensual” or at all sexual...that’s a complicated topic. While Atem is almost always disgusted with himself when/while he feeds, he does recognize that there is a level of intimacy and even romance that can be connected with drinking blood, so sometimes he can be persuaded to make it a more sensual thing if you’re his lover. 

C - Control - do they take advantage of their powers?

That depends on who’s in the equation. I can see Atem using his new powers in order to bring justice to those he sees as wrong doers (like his season 0/early manga-self) as a way to make his vampire abilities useful, so from that angle he would “take advantage” of his powers. He might even get some small gratification in using his strength and speed to hunt down evil people, them cowering in fear is retribution for their wrong-doings, but even that’s not too over the top. Other than that, no, he doesn’t really use his powers for advantages over others.

D - Dangerous - how scary they can get? How bad things can they do? What’s their ethics?

So, while Atem does have a very strong moral code, Atem also has a temper, and said temper might be harder to control when he’s a vampire. Even when he’s not growling in anger, he can have this cold glare that could make bikers squeamish. There are moments, especially when he was a younger vampire, where he loses his temper and can get pretty scary. If you’re his loved one don’t worry too much, he would never lose control enough to hurt you, even though his yelling (and maybe throwing a thing or two) is pretty scary on it’s own. If you’re someone he sees a vermin though watch out, when he gets scary you’re probably going to end up dead or wishing you were dead.

E - Exchange - do they opt for blood bags or animal blood, if possible?

He opts for animal blood as often as he can. Sometimes he’ll hunt said animals himself but even that is a little too violent for his liking (Atem is a softie okay?!) so if he can go to a local butcher and get animal blood from them he’ll do it that way. He’s not fond of blood bags because A) they’re harder to acquire and B) having human blood in a cold plastic bag just makes him long for warm human blood and skin under his teeth more. Sure animal blood isn’t as sustaining for him, but Atem spent decades (maybe even centuries) figuring out how much animal blood he needs to consume in order to keep his blood lust under control so he’ll choose that over harming an innocent human.

Also, side note, if you live with him I hope you don’t have a sensitive sense of smell, because he heats up the blood on the stove to make it taste better and it can make the house stinky lol

F - First bite - on what occasion would they bite you for the first time?

Oooh that’s a good one. Like I said Atem has a very complicated relationship with feeding from his loved ones, especially his s/o, and he’s never going to ask you for your blood. So I’d say that not only would you have to offer your blood to him, but he would have to be out of other feeding options at the time. He knows that once he reaches a certain point of hunger he loses control and might kill you in a hunger-induced blood rage, so if drinking from you now, before he gets to that point, prevents that danger, he’d be willing to. Like I said above, Atem would be very gentle with you on that occasion, holding you close and stroking the skin around the bite mark to soothe any pain, and when he’s done he’d kiss the wound and the sore skin around it as amends.

The only other “first bite” scenario I can think of is if you spend months convincing him that you don’t mind (or even like) the occasional bite and finally convince him to drink your blood during an intimate moment, and again he’s very gentle and mindful of not hurting you.

G - Growl - are they more on the “civilized” side or do they enjoy hunting their prey down?

A bit of both, I guess? Since he tries not to drink from humans he’s more civilized in that way, but like I said before he does “hunt” evil people like an avenging dark angel, which he may get some small form of enjoyment from, so... 

H - Hate - how do they feel about their kind? About themselves?

It’s honestly pretty depressing how much self-loathing Atem harbors. He genuinely thinks he’s an abomination. It doesn’t help that in all his centuries of living, he’s met very few vampires who’re “good” like him. He’s also someone who’s on a high horse and if he met a vamp who didn’t kill human’s but also wasn’t self loathing like him, he’d look down on said vampire. I’m warning you now if you fall in love with him, his self-hatred is very upsetting and can be hard to deal with.

I - Intimacy - how fast would they let you close to them? Would they want to share with you what they are?

Surprisingly, I say it’s not that hard. See, even though Atem thinks he’s a monster and tries his best to stay away from people, he also craves companionship and love. Sure, he’s spent several chunks of his immortal life isolating himself in remote woods and tall mountains for decades at a time, but he always returns to humanity at some point. So if you show that you want to be close to him he’ll try to warn you or even scare you away a bit, but it won’t take too long to let you in. And yes, he’d share what he is with you if you started to get close to him, not only as a means to scare you away “before he can hurt you” but also so you know what you’re getting into by being near him.

J - Joke - would they do pranks on other people with the use of their powers?

Sometimes, yes. If he’s close to you, he’ll start to get comfortable and like teasing you, so he’ll do minor things like sneak up behind you soundlessly and jump scare you, or zoom past you to get to something before you and play keep-away. Also, he doesn’t do this one intentionally, but sometimes he’ll be sitting in a dark room, and when you walk in you just suddenly hear this voice calling out to you in the darkness, scaring the crap outta you lol

K - Key - what’s the way of making them open up to you?

Honestly just...continue to shove your friendship in his face. Like I said under “intimacy” he still craves relationships and companionship despite how much he fears hurting people. He may try to push you away at first but if you just continue to hang around him he’ll eventually stop trying to scare you away and start opening up to you little by little.

L - Life - do they wish they were human?

Absolutely. I can see Atem, ever the fixer of problems, spending the first few hundred years searching for a cure for his “condition” not just for himself but for others who view vampires the same way. He often thinks about what his life would have been if he hadn’t been turned, and daydreams about the possibility of becoming human again. 

M - Murder - would they kill someone while feeding? Have they ever done so?

Atem has killed while feeding, yes, but not voluntarily. I’m going with the general lore that vampires, when starved too long, can't control their bloodlust and Atem has killed while in that state. When he wakes with a limp, lifeless body in his arms, he’s a devastated wreck. Hurting innocent people is literally his living nightmare and the idea that his bloodlust can turn him into an animal sickens him. He would spend decades learning how much blood he needs to consume and how often, in order to keep that bloodlust from taking control.

N - Nature - do they justify their doings? Do they consider them natural?

Atem, the self-loathing martyr of a fanged prince, considering his bloodlust natural? LMAOOOO No. No he doesn’t, nor does he ever justify his actions. In fact, he uses the terrible things he’s done to justify why he shouldn’t be loved or even alive.

O - Odd - do they have any specific hobbies or habits?

Our gentle dark prince still loves games and puzzles, I think he’d like modern brain teasers that keep his mind sharp and un-ironically loves the puzzle games printed on the back of sunday newspapers, even though they aren’t hard (for him anyway). If you got close to him and showed him games he never got to play bc they’re multiplayers he’d honestly love you. He’d win most of the time, let's be honest, especially things like Clue, but his expression is just so cute and excited when you play his favorites that you’d lose 1000 times over just to see it.

P - Pain - are they sadistic? Do they enjoy what they do?

Nope. I think you all have the idea by now but Atem is one of the most self-loathing and gentle vampires you’d meet....or at least he’s gentle with you. Other vampires who hurt people for fun? Okay, I can see him being ever so slightly sadistic when dealing with creatures like that, he has no mercy for vampires who’ve embraced their monstrous curse, best you run the other way when he punishes them, else you may actually get a little frightened of him...

R - Roles - do they enjoy pretending to be normal people? How do they feel about leaving their life behind to start a new one?

I wouldn’t say that Atem pretends to be normal, in fact, the only part of his vampirism that he embraces is being an “other”, or rather, the aesthetic of being odd, something that most humans feel uneasy when confronted with. He’d see this as a good tool to keep people he may hurt away from him. He’s no stranger to stalking graveyards/cemeteries, creeping in the shadows in a way that has others scurrying past if they happen to spot him, basically anything that makes him seem creepy and makes others keep their distance. Ultimately it hurts him since he’s unexplainably lonely, but it hurts more to know he may hurt the humans he comes across. On the same note, leaving behind one life for another to avoid suspicion is a double-edged sword for him, while it reminds him how terribly lonely existence is, it’s good to keep those who might’ve grown close to him safe.

S - Scars - do they leave marks or try to make the wounds small and invisible?

If Atem feeds from someone voluntarily (as in, not in an animalistic state), he’ll do everything he can to not leave lasting marks. Leaving marks means more pain and we all know how much he hates causing pain to others. 

T - Turned - how were they turned?

In my fic, Marik turned Atem as a form of revenge, but otherwise, I could honestly see Atem being turned by any YGO villain. I say villain because him being cursed with this life by a villain (like Bakura for example, or maybe another minion of Zorc) kind of goes along with the original story’s need to punish Atem and cast him into darkness for things that ultimately weren’t his fault.

U - Universe - what’s their biggest wish that they can’t achieve as immortals?

Mostly just...being close to people without constantly worrying that he’ll hurt or kill them. I can also see Atem yeaning for the simple pleasure of growing old and dying with one's family. If he fell in love he would crave the ability to just settle down and grow old together. Hell, he’s even one of those morbid romantics who thinks couples dying within days of each other is sweet and wishes he could do that when he loses his lover to old age.

V - Vampire - would they turn you?

Man again with the hard ones! Oof, okay, so...If you asked Atem to turn you, he’d say no, reciting his monologue about how vampires are cursed vermin who shouldn’t even exist, even if you retained your humanity after the turn, he knows the deep reaches of this curse and what it will make you do, and he hates the idea of you going through what he has.

...However, much like in the very first headcanon on this list...Atem makes mistakes and has his weak moments. If your life ended unexpectedly, of you were taken from him suddenly, like attacked or in some fatal accident, he may turn you in a moment of weakness; a desperate need to cling to you taking over his better judgment. He’d hate himself after and the only way he’d ever feel okay with it, is if time proved that you retained your humanity. He would teach you how to control your blood lust so you don’t have to go through half the things he has, and only then would he be okay with what he did to you in his moment of weakness.

W - War - would they engage in fighting their own kind for the humanity’s sake?

Yes! No one even has to ask him, Atem basically thinks the only good thing he can do with his powers is to rid the world of other vampires. He’s basically an avenging angel who’ll hunt down any vampire who threatens a human.

Y - Yandere - would they become dangerous to you (their lover)?

For the most part, I’d say no. Atem is self-aware and emotionally intelligent enough to tell if he ever starts crossing lines into “unhealthy” territory, and if that ever happened, he’d literally run away. He would leave you in order to protect you, no matter how much it hurt. There may be one (literally ONE) incident where he does something to you that crosses the line, but he’d be instantly horrified and remove himself from your life, moving to the other side of the world with no means to follow him, if it meant protecting you from himself. Now the chances of this happening in the first place? Hard to say. I really don’t think Atem is unhinged or even violent enough for it to be likely, but, an argument could be made that after everything he’s gone through, Atem may start seeing you and his love for you in an obsessives, unhealthy way. Again though, even if this did happen he would realize it and run away before it can go too far.

Z - Zombie - are they on their way to losing sanity?

I don’t think so. Atem is as strong (mentally/emotionally) as they come. Maybe eventually, after millennia and millennia of constantly losing loved ones and dealing the the monster he’s become he would start losing his sanity, but that would take a long, long time. 

[r4bbitdragon]

although admittedly posing those Particular Two Figures together does kinda highlight the fangjoker kit’s major weakness which is that pearlecent white plastic they decided to use for fang for... whatever reason. certainly not suit accuracy. bit of an oof when fourze is right there being the proper opaque white and looks great

still, i dont mind Too much, he was still a fun guy to make for me. depends how much you think it’ll bother you i guess

[tiny-titan-exo]

A weak sob escapes the Exo as they’re pressed close to the giant Scorned Baron, claws lingering on deep gashes, cuts, and burns. The smell of slightly melted metal lingers in the air, but Rheksis Vahn seemed not to notice.

An arm pulls the guardian close to his chest, a low growl echoing in the Titan’s ear. A whimper leaves Darrix, but the exo didn’t struggle, letting Rheksis wrap an arm around their waist, taking slow deliberate breaths to try and force themself to be calm.

A finger loops under the guardian’s chin, tilting it upwards so that the half lidded golden eyes met with those four eerily blue eyes above him. Rheksis holds the gaze for a few moments, seemingly taking in the damage to the exo, before leaning his head down, littering a few soft kisses to their frame. The Baron is careful to avoid the wounds, rough lips grazing past them on occasion but never making direct contact. The hurting was over, and he was making it clear his guardian was safe. For now, anyways.

Darrix shifts, resting his head lightly against Rheksis’ shoulder, a small hitch catching in his breathing as a kiss presses to his neck. The Hangman chuckles, a low grating sound, but one Darrix had become accustomed to.

Sharp fangs gently graze at the sensitive metal at the Exo’s neck, and a soft little moan escapes them. The giant continues for a moment, carefully leaving a trail of nibbles along the Titan’s neck, and then stops, catching their chin again with the tip of a clawed finger.

Darrix squirms, almost upset his lover had stopped, but the movement settles almost immediately. What could only be described as a purr had left the Baron, and it was a noise Darrix had picked up on as different from his possessive growls and snarls. It was much softer..and it only happened every once in a while.

“Mmm, no, please don’t stop..” the Titan confirmed the attention arcing his head to the side, allowing further access to his neck. Rheksis chuckles, obligingly lowering his own head and resuming his actions. The exo was so easy to please, even despite the pain still racing through their systems. Here they were, moaning quietly as the Hangman’s fangs left small dents in their neck, when moments earlier they had been begging and sobbing with pain. They were so willing to trust again, and it made Rheksis feel deeply protective of Darrix, at least on some level.

Two arms were wrapped carefully around the Titan’s waist, holding him close. A third was left at their shoulder, and the fourth was slowly sliding down, past the stomach and carefully down to the inner thigh. It rubs in slow, neat circles, eliciting such a soft little moan from the Exo. “Ahh, please..”

A low growl reverberates through Darrix’s body as the Baron continues, it wasn’t a harsh growl but the message was clear; and the guardian quiets almost immediately. Fingers graze the titan’s armor, and hook onto the pants, tugging them off in one deliberate motion. Darrix practically squirms with anticipation, but Rheksis Vahn’s grip tightens, knocking the air out of the Exo’s lungs.

The hand moves slowly, almost too slowly, from the thigh to the rising mass of soft metal and plastic. Exo’s were made to have all of the features of a human, lest their consciousness would reject the new form; and Rheksis relished it. It made for such good entertainment.

Clawed fingers grip the length of the half mast dick, giving it a soft caress before gripping it much more firmly, stroking its length deliberately, in long, slow motions. Darrix moans, head tossing and burying into his lover’s shoulder. But it did little to muffle the noises coming from the Titan.

Rheksis let’s a low, semi-threatening growl escape his throat, a clear command to keep quiet, but the guardian was having much more trouble then usual. A chuffing laugh rumbles from the Baron, and a hand latches onto Darrix’s mouth, muffling the noises, and turning their head so they could watch.

The pleasure was rising, the slow, steady stroking doing nothing more then teasing the poor Exo. It felt so good, but it wouldn’t be quite enough. His hips buck with the motions, practically begging for more.

Rheksis Vahn shifts, sitting upright, and dragging his guardian with him, leaning them up against his chest. A little moan escaped Darrix as they’re moved, but they know better then to try and move against him.

Something hard was touching the guardian’s lower back, something he was painfully familiar with. But the movements were much softer this time; surprisingly gentle. Two hands grip the guardian firmly under the shoulders, lifting him with hardly any effort. Darrix squirms, feeling himself suspended briefly, before being lowered carefully back down. The slow stroking at their own cock never wavers, even as they’re lowered down onto Rheksis’ own, much larger, length.

The exhaust port on an Exo was meant for any waste that couldn’t be digested to leave by, but that hadn’t stopped the more adventurous types from using it for more pleasurable activities. The soft metal yields to the warm, prodding penis, allowing it to slip in with a practiced slowness. Best not to hurt his little toy, at least for now.

The sudden fullness was enough to send Darrix over the edge, a loud moan escaping him, intermingled with little blips of speech. Sparks were gathering at the edges of his eyes, but he watches as a small bulge appears at his waist, showing just how much the Scorned Baron was stretching him, filling him.

A snarling growl causes the Exo to tense, but Rheksis Vahn hardly noticed. The Hangman’s attention was fully on himself, thrusting roughly into his guardian. A squeal leaves Darrix, but the Titan didn’t struggle, they knew better. The rough treatment was typical, and Darrix wondered if it was because the Baron didn’t know another way, but he didn’t mind. It felt good, pain mingling with pleasure in ways previously untouched.

Several hours later, the Exo is laid out on the Scorn Baron’s chest, taking slow breaths to steady themself. Rheksis Vahn was asleep, but the giant’s cock was still deep inside the guardian, leaving him rooted to the spot.

Well..he supposed Gambit wasn’t going to happen that night.

[talkfastromance4]

Twilight Moments with You--vampire!Luke Part 3

A/N: Here it is! The grand finale of vampire!luke! Thank you all so much for your love on this alternate universe. I’ve loved writing it and the characters are so special to me.

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: blood drinking, mentions of blood, use of blood bags, smut scenes, other vampiric tendencies

To catch up:

Giving You My Soul (Part 1)

Breathing Our Last Breath (Part 2)

A bite (blurb)

Fangs (blurb)

Masterlist

Enjoy! :)

• • • •

She’s staring at the ceiling wondering how she’s somehow able to see the miniscule grooves and bumps of the paint. The tiniest fleck falls away and she watches it pirouette its way down, down, down, down—she gasps. Sitting by her feet is Luke who has somehow become even more strikingly handsome. Or has he always been this handsome and she’d forgotten because of how long it’s been since she last saw him?

The dark circles under his eyes alarm her and the fang marks splattered across his neck put her in defense mode. Her memories roll into her mind like molasses, but the clarity is off. In her mind’s eye she sees herself running to Luke who was slumped against a wall, but it was like looking through a dirty, foggy piece of glass. His name screamed from her lips then she remembers pain. Lots of pain in darkness that swallowed her whole.

She looks down at herself, gasping again when she sees the same fang marks scattered across her arms and hands. Had they been attacked? She can’t remember.

“Lovie?” Luke’s voice is like harmonious bells, the most beautiful sound. She flashes her eyes to his, he licks his lips and holds out a hand. “I know this is a lot for you right now. How are you feeling?”

“What--?” before she can finish her question, she catches a whiff of something so delicious, so mouthwatering it makes her throat burn and her mouth water. She inhales slightly then pinpoints the smell is coming from the kitchen.

How long has she been unconscious? When was the last time she ate?

She’s absolutely famished then darts from the bed and is in the kitchen within half a blink. She sees red, her mouth salivating as she zeroes in on the sweet, sweet smell. Before she can find out what the nutriment is, she’s knocked back against the cabinets.

A growl rumbles in her chest as the offender hisses. Before she can launch herself at who pushed her, Luke’s arms are tight around her keeping her against his chest. She snarls and bares her teeth trying to escape.

“No, no, no! That’s Michael and Kitty, Y/N! Shift your eyes…come on,” he coaxes lowly in her ear.

Upon his words it’s as if a film has lifted from her eyes and she sees Michael crouched in front of Kitty. His fangs are bared while his arms cage Kitty behind him against the counter. Their eyes are wide in shock, breath shallow, their heartbeat oh so tempting—

That stops Y/N’s thought short. How can she hear their heartbeat?

“Luke…what happened to me?” she asks, her voice barely registering as a whisper. Luke drops his head to her shoulder heaving a big sigh.

Usually, when he’d touch her she’d feel her heart pounding in her chest, booming in her ears. Now, there’s nothing. She hears a heartbeat but it’s not her own, hers has become desolate. The fang marks, the paint fleck dancing, that sweet smell, the growl in her chest; her mind connects the dots creating her answer.

She’s a Vampire.

“I changed you,” he whispers almost sadly. His face still buried on her shoulder. “I had to. You were dying and you…you asked me to because the butterflies were taking you away from me.”

Her ears perk at the mention of butterflies. Through her foggy memory she remembers feeling a quick flutter in her chest, but the flutter continued in her whole body, crowding her throat and mouth. In her hazy mind she sees Luke hovering over her, his lips moving very fast, but his words slowed down as they trickled in her ears.

He apologized. He apologized a lot, then said he loved her and that he could change her but only if she wished. She loved him too, she couldn’t let the butterflies take her away.

“Talk to me, please,” Luke begs morosely.

She has so many questions, but Kitty’s heart and smell of their blood is making Y/N’s head swim. She’s so distracted by her hunger—her thirst.

“Can I have something to drink first?” she asks quietly. “I don’t want to hurt Kitty.”

“Michael,” Luke says in a louder voice.

In less than a second, Michael and Kitty are gone and Y/N exhales in relief at being alone in her new body. She doesn’t want an audience--especially one she could harm--witness her process this new change. Kitty’s blood still lingers in the air and it makes Y/N’s venom drip on her tongue. It tastes like something sour.

A minute and a half passes, she knows this because she counts the breaths Luke takes against her neck. It’s a comforting feeling and if she still had her heart, it would be beating erratically.

“Luke…”

“I have some blood bags downstairs,” he says then slowly releases his hold from her body, but his hand envelops hers.

She didn’t even know he had a downstairs, but she follows him through two sets of doors then they fly down concrete steps. She can smell the dankness of the basement along with corks and barrels and something…cold. He smacks a light on and she’s staring at five large freezers and a large wooden table in the center.

“Wait here,” he murmurs leaving her at the edge of the table. He opens a freezer door and pulls out three bags.

It takes a moment before the scent of it invades her nose, when she breathes in it’s almost refreshing. Her mind clears but her mouth waters as her throat burns. She’s a complexity of contradictions.

“I suppose you don’t want a glass?” Luke asks quirking an eyebrow setting the bags down in front of her, the contents slosh and her throat scorches.

That odd film falls over her eyes once again and before she can think of her actions, she lunges for the bag in his hand and sinks her teeth through the plastic. As soon as the liquid touches her lips she sighs at her throat finally being put to ease. She drinks and drinks as if she’s been walking through the desert for ninety days and then all too soon, it’s over.

The bag is empty.

“Here,” Luke hands her the second bag.

She goes through the second and third (and half of a fourth) before she feels fully satisfied. Her body feels full and warm, her fingertips are slightly tingly. Then when she looks at Luke, that film in front of her vision disappears.

“What is that?”

Luke reaches over rubbing his thumb at the corner of her mouth. When he pulls back she sees a smear of red before he sucks it off between his lips, eyes on her.

“What’s what?”

“It happened upstairs with Kitty and now down here…something happens with my eyes?” she swallows thickly, finding it oddly erotic how he licked the blood from his thumb.

“Instinct. When you smell blood, that’s all you want, and your body reacts. It’s like blinders, it blocks out everything else except for the source of sustenance. It’ll fade with time as you mature,” he flickers a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes.

His eyes that are still dark with circles that look like bruises.

“You need to feed,” she says. She thinks of touching his face and then she is, her body acting accordingly to her thoughts.

His skin isn’t cold like before, but it feels softer. She rubs the dark moon under his eye and his body relaxes at her touch. Luke’s hand covers hers; his breath tickles her skin as he breathes her in.

“You’re more important,” he exhales lacing his fingers with hers. “We have a lot to discuss.”

“We can discuss it after you’ve fed,” she says fiercely and pushes him back towards the freezer.

Luke is weak to her advances; for one because she’s much stronger than he is for the time being, and the second because of the way her body presses to his. He hits the freezer door with a hard thump, their fingers still linked together. She tilts her head up at the same time he lowers his, their want and need are the same as their lips touch.

They’re instantly charged with an electric burn; the taste of her lips and his scent overwhelms them both after weeks of not being together. She presses herself against him harshly and Luke grunts as he makes a dent into the freezer door. He squeezes his hand on her waist forcing her back against the table that she effortlessly hops onto.

His pants are tugged far enough down, and he removes her shorts swiftly. His mouth opens in a quiet moan when her hand is on him, stroking him the way he likes it. Their emotions are the same (pain, sorrow, love, longing) and they roll off each other as she opens her legs to wrap them around his waist. Luke plunges into her deftly, she moans loudly, and he smiles against her mouth.

He grips her hips as he lets everything he’s held in, out. She’s as desperate for him as he is, her hips rocking against him as he fucks her long and deep. Her nails dig into his lower back to pull him closer the same time he slips his tongue in her mouth tasting her moan.

Their love making is a frenzy, a reintroduction, a mutual need of desire.

“Yes, there, there,” she mewls on his lips. Luke growls and with a few more quick snaps they both meet their end goal of pleasure.

Breathing heavily, he pulls back a bit to look at her. Usually after their lovemaking her face would be warm with a hint of color, but she remains the same. As much as Luke misses her warmth, she’s a different form of fire now and he kisses her. This time, his lips move against hers like butterfly wings and she sighs against him.

“I love you,” he murmurs resting his forehead against hers.

“I love you,” her hands rub at the sides of his stomach under his shirt. “Now go drink.”

**

“What do you remember?” Luke asks while they sit in his trinket room. She’s on his lap, neither one of them want to be apart, and she’s stroking his cheek with her thumb. His eyes have lightened, and the dark moons are almost gone.

“I remember…” she moves around in her head for those foggy pictures again. “We weren’t together and then Celeste and Simone…Brone in an alley and then you’re there but I can’t see you…I couldn’t move and then there was a lot of pain and then nothing. It was dark.”

Luke squeezes her tighter against him as she recalls the most terrible moments of his lifetime, his betrayal to her and then the pain inflicted because of him.

“Then I saw you again,” her eyes lifted to his, “it felt like I was being taken away but then you brought me back.”

“I changed you,” Luke nods. “I’m so sorry, lovie. For everything. Everything I’ve put you through.”

“I know.”

“I’ll spend the rest of my existence in regret of the pain I’ve caused you. I was idiotic and acted like a pubescent boy by pushing you away in the first place. And what happened with Celeste and Simone”—she winces at their names and he squeezes her again— “they tricked me and in my state…I thought it was you. I swear it. I’ve never wanted anyone else like I desire you.”

“That doesn’t surprise me, they’re vile. I might just kill them,” she jokes. Partially. Almost joking.

“Is it bad I wouldn’t stop you?” Luke chuckles.

“Is it bad I wouldn’t want you to?” she smiles then is surprise at how flippant she’s being discussing murder. “What happened to Brone?”

“Trixie shot him with her crossbow, and he got away. Michael wanted to go after him, but we were in bad shape. I’m sorry for what he did to you, it stripped away your choice of becoming…like me.”

“How come I didn’t change from his bites?”

“He didn’t use enough venom, but he used just enough to paralyze you. When I woke up you still hadn’t,” he cocks his head to the side, “which I still don’t understand that part. I’m thinking he bit an artery and when you could move it burst because that was when you started to slip away.”

She twists one of his curls around her finger trying to remember that moment in time but it all bleeds together like an oil painting.

“Thank you for saving me,” she kisses his cheek.

“I wish I could have changed you under different circumstances. I’m sorry—”

She covers his apology with her hand.

“Luke, stop,” she orders softly. “I know you’re sorry. I know you never meant to purposefully hurt me, but if you keep apologizing I might go feral.”

He laughs beneath her hand and he tugs it away, his dimple is showing.

“I don’t doubt that, lovie. I’ll stop apologizing but I still feel horrible.”

They sit in silence, softly caressing each other and then she opens her mouth but then closes it.

“What? Talk to me,” he nearly pleads, “you must have half a million questions about being a Vampire.”

“I just realized I’m going to have to wear a mask out in public now, aren’t I?”

Luke lets out a loud laugh that makes her shake on top of him.

“That’s what you’re thinking about?”

“Amongst other things,” she grins impishly, and Luke cocks an eyebrow.

They come together again this time ripping their clothes off each other in their haste. It’s twilight once they’ve settled on the floor, legs entangled, and she’s wrapped in his arms. Luke’s rubbing his nose against her skin, breathing her in and her fingers are latched on his unruly curls.

“Why did you stop feeding after we….”

Luke sighs in defeat. He knew they had to discuss this, he wanted to down in the basement so it would be brought to the light and snuffed out. But the way her voice sounded just now…pained him. He pecks her lips softly before pulling back so they can see eye to eye.

“In my absurd way of thinking, I thought it would help clear my head about you and me and us. I’ve never felt the way I do about you with anyone before. I’d always been a lone wanderer. Michael has become a dear friend and when you came along, and I started to feel for you it terrified me. It’s completely reckless to not feed.

“I started seeing things, old friends from my past were in the parlor and time was distorted. I didn’t know what day it was; I was spiraling.”

“That sounds horrible,” she whispers pulling on his hair lovingly. “I wanted to come see you to try and help but Michael warned me not to. He said you were very unstable.”

“I was,” he nods, “I could have severely hurt you or worse, killed you. I’m glad you stayed away. I’m surprised you’re still here with me now.”

“Why?”

“Because of what I’ve done. I made choices that were yours to make, then you saw me with…them and Brone hurt you. You should hate me, and rightfully so.”

“I’ll admit I was very angry and hurt,” she nods, “I still am but Luke, you’ve apologized. I forgive you. You weren’t in the right state of mind and they took advantage of that, of you. Please accept my forgiveness like I’ve accepted your apology. It’s happened and it’s over, but you and I are together and that’s what matters to me.”

Luke looks away and Y/N forces him to look back at her, her hand firm on his cheek.

“If we keep dwelling on this, it will fester and fester until it blows up to something even worse than what’s happened. Can we accept each other?”

He nods slowly, a smile slowly reaching his lips.

“I accept every and all parts of you, beautiful.”

**

Luke and Y/N stay in his house for four days getting reacquainted with each other. When he was trying to teach her to play piano she twiddled her fingers on two keys in frustration from not picking up on it faster.

“How did you change?” she asks while Luke composes a song to go along with her incessant trilling.

“I think you know how,” he smiles letting his fangs show. She rolls her eyes.

“I meant…who changed you? Are they still al—existent?”

“Viola Conte is her name and yes, she’s still alive. My parents died of scarlet fever, so I was left to fend for myself. I tried to find work and eventually came across a family on a farm. They welcomed me and let me stay in their shed. I worked for them for a few years and then Viola came.”

The song changed with his story and Y/N could envision Luke as a farm hand, working under the warm Italian sun with his muscles straining and sweat forming on his brow.

“She took a liking to me for some reason and offered me to be her…companion. I’d be taken care of and paid an allowance I guess you could call it. I was hesitant at first because I’d finally found a good life with the Morretti’s but Viola was persistent. She said it would be a waste for me to live a normal human life when I could live an extraordinary one. I didn’t understand the distinction until after she changed me.”

“What exactly did ‘companion’ mean for her?” Y/N asks sharply.

She could picture it now. A drop-dead gorgeous Vampire with perfect features needing a companion as handsome as Luke.

“It’s not what you’re thinking, lovie,” Luke touches her cheek quickly with his fingers before continuing his song. “She simply wanted someone to accompany her on her travels and trips to the opera house or plays. I agreed but only if the Morretti’s would be taken care of as well. She agreed.”

“So, she changed you right then?”

“No. I said my goodbyes to the kind family who took me in, I still send their remaining relatives’ cash so they’re all well taken care of. Then Viola brought me to Cala Luna,” Luke smiles.

“What’s that?” she asks in intrigue.

“It’s on the island of Sardinia, just south of Dorgali and it’s the most beautiful place, Y/N. I’ve wanted to take you there for a long time. Her house was very ostentatious with servants and cooks and seamstresses that came every Tuesday at eight o’clock. I felt like royalty. I attended concerts and walks along the shore with her. It wasn’t until about a month after I lived with her did Viola tell me what she was.

“I didn’t believe her at first but then she showed me the records of her birth that dated back into the 1300’s and she showed me where her family still lived in her childhood home in Neive. She sends them money as well.”

“That’s…that’s really nice of her.”

“She’s an astounding woman.”

“So, obviously you said yes to becoming a Vampire, but can I ask why?”

“I saw how happy she was, and her life seemed so fulfilling, so I agreed. I stayed with her until I bought my own house on the beach then I became restless. I wanted to see the world and Viola was sad to see me leave. I always visited her after I came home from my travels.”

“And you two never—”

“No,” he chuckles then stops his playing. He angles his body towards hers. “I’ve had relations with countless people but never Viola. She’s like a dear aunt to me.”

Y/N tried to not let the comment of ‘countless relations’ get to her, but Luke sensed it.

“I sort of like seeing you jealous,” he teases pressing his lips to her shoulder.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says icily and turns her focus to the piano. She tries to play what Luke taught her. He chuckles on her shoulder and continues to kiss her neck.

“They meant nothing to me, lovie,” his breath is cool on her skin, but his lips are like fire.

“Mhm.”

Luke’s fingers danced along her thigh, spreading her legs apart as he sucked on her neck.

“None of them compare to the noises you make,” he mumbles on her skin. It makes her tremble which shocks her, she didn’t realize Vampires could still tremble. “Or the fire you leave on my skin….”

When his fingers dip between her thighs, she only had on one of his white cotton button down shirt so it was easy access, her hands slammed down on the keys making a shrill off-key sound.

“No one tastes as sweet as you do…” he says inserting his finger and her eyes close in satisfaction. “Mm, or as warm as you.”

“Luke,” she whines then launches herself at him.

**

“I’d say that was a pretty good first hunt,” Michael grins at Y/N as they walk the trail back to Luke’s car.

“Keep your eyes North, Michael,” Luke snaps, his eyes flickering to Y/N who looks like a wild woman with her clothes in tatters. Luke is still plucking leaves from her hair.

Michael chortles.

“You’re very striking, Y/N,” Michael compliments and Luke hisses.

“Who’s jealous now?” she teases Luke, his eyes flash to hers.

“Don’t spur him on.”

“I know it doesn’t mean anything. He loves Kitty too much,” Y/N states smugly.

“Damn right I do, but they’ve agreed with me. We admire beautiful creatures, we’re only human after all,” Michael laughs at his joke.

“You really think I did good?”

“Yeah, you catch on quickly. I think you’re ready to go to The Bar.”

Y/N gasps.

“It’s way too soon for that. She’s barely two weeks old, Mike and The Bar is flooded with humans. She hasn’t even walked the streets with a mask on or resisted human blood.”

“She resisted Kitty.”

“After you pushed her against my cabinets.”

“She smells the blood in your blood chamber!”

“Those aren’t inside a warm body. She needs more time—”

“She’ll be fine. We can— “

“Excuse me, being the ‘she’ in this topic of conversation, don’t I get a say?”

Luke looks at her the same time Michael looks over his shoulder. He smirks at her then looks forward when Luke hisses at him. Again.

“I’d like to go to The Bar and see Trixie. Even though I doubt I’ll still have a job considering my change of…mortality,” she shakes her head, “but I’d like to see Kitty, too. I want to thank them properly for helping me and you’ll both be there to help if I need it.”

“Kitty would love that. They’ve been asking about you ever since that morning you woke up.”

“Please, Luke? I can do it.”

“I know you can,” he slips his hand in hers. “I still feel like I need to protect you.”

“You still can, just don’t keep me locked away in a tower like Rapunzel,” she giggles.

“I would never. Although shackles…” he winks at her and Michael makes gagging noises ahead of them.

“I don’t want to hear about your sexual endeavors…” Michael mutters then darts off through the trees in the direction of Luke’s black Suburban.

“I am nervous about going to the Bar,” she tells Luke quietly. He slips his hand in hers and gives her a squeeze until she’s looking into his eyes.

“I know. We can wait on that; it’s not going anywhere.”

“What would it be like for me, do you think?”

“Your film would be over your eyes as soon as you stepped over the threshold. The human blood mixed with the sexual arousal will be overly tempting. I wouldn’t even be able to hold you off.”

She falls silent at that.

“I’d be a monster,” she whispers then stops in her tracks.

Images of the first hunt she just finished flashed in her eyes. She heard the musical sound of the deer’s heart, could feel the warmth of its blood throb at her fangs and the film slid over her eyes. She saw red. She saw the pumping blood through the deer, and she leaped at it, the only thing on her mind was to drink.

Then she thought of Kitty, and how their blood smelled a few weeks ago. It was even more mouthwatering than the deer and Michael thinks she could handle seeing Kitty right now?

“Luke, I’m scared.”

“Shh, shh,” he hushes stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers. He rubs some dirt that was smudged on the apple of her cheek. “There’s no need for you to be scared. This is all so new to you. You’ve fed on deer and we’ll have a bag at home before we head over to Michael and Kitty’s. You can do this, lovie, I know you can.”

She lifts her eyes at his boost of encouragement, her favorite smile painted on his face. His eyes resemble the clear blue sky in the setting sun. She’s finding herself loving how he looks in the twilight night, he’s ethereal, a masterpiece.

“How do you know?”

“Because you care for Kitty,” he threads his fingers through her hair at the nape of her neck. He bends his head towards hers, “and you are anything but a monster.”

His lips touch hers in a tempting way, it electrifies all of her senses and she presses her body to his forcefully. Luke grunts at the drive of her hips and smiles when she climbs onto him trying to wrap her legs around his waist.

“Oi! You can fuck later, I told Kitty we’re coming!” Michael shouts.

“Oops,” she whispers falling off Luke’s body.

“We have the whole night,” Luke grins kissing her forehead then leads her towards the car.

She hopes this desire and need for him never goes away.

**

“Put this on before we go inside,” Luke hands her a black mask as he parks in front of Michael and Kitty’s house.

She loops the strings around her ears then wiggles her nose at the sudden loss of one of her most powerful senses. It smells really sterile with a slight burn.

“I know, it’s irritating,” Luke frowns, “but you’ll get used to it. Ready?”

Scared to speak, she nods and then they’re holding hands outside the car walking to the front door. If her heart were still beating it would be as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. She wishes she has the confidence in herself that Michael and Luke do.

“Don’t let go of my hand,” she tells him. He gives her a squeeze in acknowledgement and pushes the door open.

She’s breathing in the burning sterilization but picks up on Kitty’s heartbeat quickly and follows it. The mask does help because she can only faintly smell a sweet aroma, but her eyes remain free of the film. When Y/N and Luke turn the corner, Kitty is sitting on the island chair with Michael standing in front of them, his hand is on their knee.

Y/N can sense his protectiveness but also his glee at the reunion. Kitty smiles tentatively behind Michael and Y/N returns it, forgetting they can’t see it behind her mask. She tries to move forward but Luke anchors her to him.

“Let’s ease into it, hm?” he murmurs and Y/N nods.

“Hi Y/N,” Kitty continues to smile, and it looks like they want to come forward too, but Michael’s grip is tight.

“Hi Kitty!” Y/N says excitedly.

“What do you smell?” Michael asks cocking his head to the side.

“Whatever’s on the mask…and a sweet smell. But it’s faint.”

“How do you feel?” Michael asks while Luke rubs her arms.

“Okay,” Y/N nods. “I can see clearly.”

“Guys come on. I know Y/N won’t hurt me,” Kitty rolls their eyes.

“You’re the first human she’s been in contact with since she’s changed,” Luke explains softly, “it’s a lot to take in and requires control. Do you feel okay taking a step closer?”

Luke’s lips graze her ear, and his curls tickle her skin. She pushes down her arousal for him; now is not the time for that. Like he said before, they have all night. She nods and takes a careful step closer, the aroma she smells gets a little stronger but it’s tolerable. The blood bag is definitely helping with her thirst and she feels ready to remove her mask.

Luke snags her hand in his fingers, stopping her way to the loops of her mask.

“I don’t think—”

“Luke, I’m fine. I promise.”

“She’ll be fine,” Michael nods. “I’ll throw her against my cabinets if I need to.”

She giggles while Luke snarls under his breath at the notion of her being tossed against the cabinets again. He releases his hold on her and she removes the mask.

“Breathe slowly…”

She inhales the sweet aroma, it’s stronger, but it doesn’t make her fangs throb. Luke keeps a strong hold on her arms as she walks closer and closer to Michael and Kitty. Her nose burns a little, but she can power through it. She needs to so she can be around people again without hurting them.

When Y/N and Luke were a foot away, Kitty rolls their eyes launching themselves at Y/N in a big hug. Luke and Michael sucked in a breath; Y/N tensed but hugged Kitty back tightly. They felt the same and smelled even sweeter this up close, but it felt so good to hug a friend.

“I’ve missed you,” Kitty says.

“I missed you, thank you for helping me with…everything,” Y/N whispers.

“I’d do it all again in a heartbeat,” Kitty pulls away with a beaming smile. “Come on, I’ll fill you in on all that you’ve missed.”

Kitty drags Y/N away into the other room, Luke attempts to follow but Michael pushes onto his chest.

“They’re fine, Y/N’s got this. She won’t hurt Kitty.”

In the other room, Kitty can’t stop staring into Y/N’s eyes, they’ve become as bright as Michael’s, maybe even brighter. Y/N becomes self-conscious then clears their throat.

“I’m sorry about before when I almost attacked you. I hadn’t realized what I was.”

“It’s all right,” Kitty places their hand over hers and squeezes. “I actually…what was it like?”

“What, changing?” Y/N asks and Kitty nods. “It’s hard to remember exactly…I felt nothing then I felt everything. I think I heard Luke’s voice…it was very strange. I kept going in and out of…life?”

“But it didn’t hurt that bad?”

“Not significantly enough. Kitty…do you want Michael to change you?”

Kitty chews on their lip, their heart rate picking up.

“I’ve been thinking about it…but he doesn’t seem so inclined to do so. I want to spend forever with him. I’m sorry,” they shake their head, “I shouldn’t be talking about me, you’re the one who’s going through all of this.”

“I don’t mind talking about this with you! I’m sure Michael’s reservations are the same as Luke’s were for me.”

“But can you imagine the four of us exploring the world together?” Kitty’s eyes shine and Y/N can’t help but smile back.

Later that night, after a romp through the sheets, Y/N swings her leg over Luke’s waist straddling him then lays across the length of his torso. His teeth gleam in the moonlight and his fingers trace her nose and lips.

“You were exceptional today, lovie. With your hunting and your control with Kitty…very sexy.”

“Yeah?” she giggles circling her finger in his chest hair. “Thank you.”

She sighs when his fingers tickle up and down her back. She’s never felt more peaceful and loved than in this moment.

“What’s on your mind?” Luke asks quietly.

“Lots of things. Kitty wants to be changed, I’m wondering where Brone is…and thinking of Cala Luna. And I’m thinking about how much I love you.” She kisses his chest, right where his heart would be.

“I love you, too,” he grins. “Michael wants to change Kitty, too, but he’s nervous to ask. I’ll bring it up to him again. As for Brone…I’m sure he’s scampered off somewhere tending his wound. If he ever comes back here or lays even a finger on you, I’ll take care of him. He won’t hurt you ever again. What are you thinking about Cala Luna for?”

“I’d like to visit it soon. Maybe…live there for a while? A fresh start,” she shrugs.

“We could do that. Another great thing about Italy is that the Vampire population is higher, and they don’t require masks. There’s plenty of Vampire only beaches.”

“Mm are they nude beaches?” she stretches up on her hands hovering above him and rubs her nose against his.

“Some are,” he chuckles gliding his hands over her ass. “I wouldn’t want to be the one who massacred a whole lot of our kind because of your gorgeous naked body enticing them.”

“You’re full of it, that wouldn’t happen,” she laughs grinding herself on top of him.

“You’re very humble, my love,” Luke sighs and lifts his hips. He slips inside of her easily, she gasps out in pleasure.

“I like how that…how that sounded,” she moans as he thrusts into her.

“What?”

“’Our kind.’ We’re the same.”

“You’re just my kind,” he whispers then kisses her deeply.

Her moans and his grunts ricochet off his walls, their bodies rocking and writhing in frenzied passion. They can’t get enough of each other. When they’ve climaxed, she falls onto her back trying to catch her breath while Luke stretches into his nightstand.

He curves back around hovering over her staring at her with a look of adoration on his face.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” she laughs.

“I’ve walked this earth for many years, always on my own, never staying in on place too long. But I think I walked all those miles just so I could get to you. You’ve altered my world in the best way possible, you’ve made my silent heart sing again and filled my days with insurmountable joy. Will you by mine eternally as my wife?”

She’s speechless then left breathless when he pops open the box revealing the most extravagant ring she’s ever seen. It’s clearly a family heirloom with a large diamond in the center and even more diamonds in a vine-like pattern along the band. It sparkles and glitters in the moonlight.

“Yes.”

**

A month later, Luke and Y/N are standing at the end of a cliff overlooking the Mediterranean Sea off Cala Luna beach. Michael and Kitty are standing beside them while Viola is in the small crowd attending the ceremony. Viola welcomed Y/N with open arms already telling her stories of Luke when he was a young Vampire.

She loved exploring the city and seeing the beautiful statues all across the land.

Y/N felt a kinship with Viola immediately and it felt as if she were talking to royalty. Viola held a sort of regality in her that left Y/N in awe. She loved listening to Viola’s stories of meetings with William Shakespeare and how she caught the eye of Henry VIII.

“He was a headache but the presents he gave me were worth it,” Viola laughed.

Y/N had on a beautiful, one-of-a-kind wedding gown that was made especially for her by one of Viola’s most trusted designers who Y/N found out was also a Vampire. It was full of lace and pearls and billowed in the wind. Y/N felt like a princess.

When the officiant declared their union, Luke cradled her face delicately in his hands, smiled softly, then kissed her with so much love she felt it burst within her. Their reception was small and short, and they retired in their own villa along the coast of the beach.

“The sun is setting on our love,” he murmurs on her throat, their fingers link together with their rings shimmering in the dim glow of the moon off the ocean.

“Even the butterflies can’t take me away, now.”

They dwell in their twilight moments, giggling softly with tender caresses that hold promises of many more moments like this in their future. The world is their oyster, and their love is the pearl.

Taglist: @calpalirwin​  @thecurlsofgod​ @myloverboyash​ @rotten-kandy​ @tea4sykes​ @jannimoeller3​ @loveroflrh​ @iovehemmings​ @cxddlyash​ @princesslrh​  @katiaw2​ @g-l-pierce​ @fairyintheglass​ @gosh-im-short​ @banditocth @dezzym17 @koalacal @lukeisbaby​ @spicycal​ @mysticalhood​ @notinthesameguey​ @wastedheartcth​  @itjustkindahappenedreally​ @calumance​ @babylon-corgis​ @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt​ @lanternlover2​ @istaywithmyjonas​ @calteahood​ @sarcastically-defensive17​ @another-lonely-heart​ @devilatmydoor​ @frontmanash​ @philthepegacorn​ @mantlereid @lukedorkyhemmings​ @addietagglikesbands​ @kikixfandoms @sanrioluke​ @mayve-hems​ @morguelth @haikucal​ @thatscooibaby​ @meghanrose05​​ @idontneedanyone​​ @dinosaursandsocks​​ @haveufoundwhaturlooking4​ @suchalonelysunflower​​ @burstintocolor​​ @zhangyixingxing1​​ @dead-and-golden​​ @mymindwide​​ @everyscarisahealingplace​​ @stardust-galaxies​​ @blackbutterfliescal​​ @redrattlers​​ @lovelybonesetc​​ @karajaynetoday​​ @quasighost​​ @i-like-5sos​​ @creampiecashton​​ @calpops​ @superbloomed-c

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

I just woke up to the thought of myagi fang on a cliche highschool trip to Rome or Paris or smthn. Them all bring touristy and goofing around or eli and Demetri being gross or even better a picturesque karate sequence over the landmarks

Well obviously now I HAVE to make a list of headcanons about a Paris trip, it’s the LAW

~Eli insists on taking photos where it looks like he’s doing karate moves on famous landmarks. He punches the Eiffel tower. He roundhouse kicks the Champs Elysee arch. Demetri thinks this is utterly ridiculous, but goes along with it.

~Demetri’s style is more to just pose super dramatically in front of famous landmarks in the hammiest possible manner. Eli, never without his fundamental need to be incredibly Extra at all times, is often talked into joining in.

~Demetri sets out on a quest to find the perfect croissant. He makes an extensive list of the strengths and weaknesses, at least a page long, of each one he consumes. His goal is to analyze every croissant he consumes in order to objectively determine the best one in Paris. Everyone else in Miyagi Fang finds this incredibly obnoxious and begs for Demetri to stop. Demetri does not stop.

~Sam insists Aisha and Moon come along so she isn’t the only girl. They become the group fashionistas of sorts, and insist on hitting every cute boutique they pass for a shopping spree. They also generally have a blast buying each other clothes and surprising each other with them.

~Sam also buys Demetri a few scarves, because if he’s going to be her Gay Best Friend, goddamn it, he needs to start dressing like it. Demetri acts all surly at first--because he has a very solidly-defined wardrobes and there’s just no place for fancy scarves with his graphic tees--but eventually he comes to fawn over them and starts wearing them everywhere, no matter how garish they look with the rest of his outfits.

~Furthermore, he loves to wrap his scarves around Eli so they walk around sharing a scarf. Eli grumbles about it, saying it looks dumb, but secretly he doesn’t mind being kept close to Demetri at all times. Demetri’s favorite scarf to share is a really soft, silky dark purple one that he vehemently insists is “classy.”

~At one point, everyone goes to the top of the Eiffel Tower. Demetri takes like 60 selfies of him and Eli with the city sprawling away in the background, wrapped up in their purple scarf with the wind blowing both their hair all over the place. When they go off to different colleges the following year, these photos are the first ones the boys look at when they miss each other.

~The Miyagi Fang gang goes on a riverboat tour on the Seine at some point. Eli loooooves the adrenaline rush of leaning really far over the boat railing and feeling the wind whipping past his face. This regularly scares the crap out of Demetri and he’s constantly hauling Eli back over the railing, insisting that “drowning in a river or being run over by a boat really would not be a very badass way to go out.”

~They go to Versailles at some point, and in the gift shop, Demetri grabs a cheap plastic souvenir tiara and places it on Eli’s head. Eli just kinda cocks an eyebrow at him and is like “...why?” and Demetri gets this big shit-eating grin on his face and says “Because you’re a drama queen.” Eli just starts spluttering angrily before finally getting out “I’M NOT A DRAMA QUEEN YOU’RE A DRAMA QUEEN” and Demetri gets an incredibly smug look on his face before countering “Well, I remember one of us beat up the other over a 1-star Yelp review, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t me.” Eli continues to splutter, but can’t find a good response to that one. Demetri ends up actually buying the crown for Eli. Eli would never admit it to a single living soul, but he keeps and cherishes it forever, despite it being purchased solely to make fun of him.

~Of course Johnny insists they visit the Catacombs, because “I hear there’s a bunch of skeletons and human remains and shit down there. Shit sounds badass.” There are in fact a number of skulls, and Eli is awed, gushing about how “cool” and “hardcore” this place is. The perfect setting for a hard rock concert, he insists. Demetri will not stop roasting Eli for being such an edgelord.

~Eli buys them some comic books written in French at a dingy little street stall in some backalley. Neither of them have any intention whatsoever of learning French, of course--they figure it’ll be way more entertaining to try and figure out what the fuck is going on whilst knowing absolutely no French whatsoever.

~The only French Demetri knows is “I love you.” He learns what it is so he can say it frequently to Eli and purposely butcher the pronunciation in a different manner every damn time, solely because he knows this will annoy the crap out of Eli. “JAY TY-MEE, ELI! JEE TIMMY!” “I am GOING to kill you Demetri, I SWEAR TO GOD.”

~At one of the many gift shops they visit, Demetri buys Eli a sword. Probably not like...a real sword, because those are expensive af I imagine, but like a replica or something. Eli is absolutely JAZZED and runs around yelling “HELL YEAH!” and swinging the damn thing all over the place. Miguel just turns and whispers worriedly to Demetri “Are you sure we can trust him with that thing?” and Demetri just waves a hand dismissively like “Ah, don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

[secret-engima]

I concur. The last option is the best. Maybe a few headcanons or snippets on how Angeal got roped into being a Braincell again? (Bonus if he originally refuses the call because *cough* Genesis *cough* but still ends up bundling up Ardyn and giving him some calming tea while in complete denial)

Hmmmm finally up for rambling this ask so buckle up!

-Angeal has no desire to be anyone special. He has had a good childhood this time around, with two loving parents and no scientific experimentation whatsoever. His father is one of the gardeners for the Oracles themselves and Angeal is perfectly content to follow in those footsteps once his father retires. He hopes for a peaceful life and carefully hides his lingering guilt and trauma from another life under the mental carpet, and refuses to admit he still dreams of the people he failed (Sephiroth who he abandoned, Genesis who he couldn’t save, his mother who committed suicide because of her guilt at what he’d become, his son apprentice Zack whom he forced to kill him).

-He is befriended by the young Princess, who smiles at him and is content to talk for hours about the flowers and plants he helps maintain. She follows him around sometimes, both asking for advice and giving it impulsively, and even though she is just a child, she has an impressive green thumb and an even more impressive kind heart. He knows that everyone says the Princess is ... odd. And she is. She is too old for her skin sometimes, too wise and too silly by turns in the way only someone who has seen it all and come out the other side can be.

-Privately, Angeal thinks she might be like him. Someone who remembers another life. But he never asks. He never admits. It doesn’t matter anyway. They are both content in their respective new lives, there is no need to drag up ghosts.

-Then one day Fenestala Manor ... burns. A lot of people are killed. A lot more are terrified and grieving and angry. There are whispers of rebellion, of defiance, but none dare when the late Oracle’s children are within Niflheim’s grasp.

-Angeal (who now wears the name Theseus like a suit he refuses to admit doesn’t fit right) keeps his head down and makes no moves to step out of line. He played hero once and he became the monster instead. He will not make that mistake a second time. He does, however, try to make his garden a sanctuary for the poor Princess. He can’t imagine how she must feel, to lose her mother so young, to be held captive by her mother’s killers, to have a brother who rages and cries and pulls bitterly away because he cannot see that his sister is grieving, just in a different way.

-Then the Chancellor of Niflheim visits for the first time, and Angeal only knows because he spots the Princess leading the bemused, sharp-tongued man around the garden, smiling and gentle and welcoming, like she is speaking to an old friend and not one of the leaders of the nation holding her hostage. Angeal keeps his head down, but the Princess trusts him and seems to think he makes fine company for a princess and an enemy politician, and she drags him over to talk about the flower crown she is making their guest.

-The Chancellor smiles and verbally cuts open Angeal in only the most veiled, politest ways. It’s almost impressive, if it didn’t remind him too much of Genesis. So Angeal pretends to not notice and hopes the man goes away and never comes back.

-He goes away.

-He keeps coming back.

-And Angeal keeps finding them in his garden, the Princess and her dangerous, half-mad guest (and Angeal knows madness, he has seen it in faces of friends and mirrors alike, he knows what the Chancellor hides behind his flowery words and indulgent smiles it is not anything nice), and he keeps getting dragged into the conversation, and somewhere along the way he notices that it’s almost always raining on the days the Chancellor visits. A pleasant, faint sort of rain that is almost as nice to be out in as sunshine. If it’s not raining before he arrives, it is within the hour he appears, and it always leaves within the hour the Chancellor does. And that the rain itself whispers against his skin like magic, like the faintest, most persistent of cure spells that Angeal hasn’t felt since he woke up as Theseus.

-Its a coincidence until it’s not. It’s happenstance until Angeal spots the glimmers of something quieter and saner appearing in the man with each visit and flower crown and long, rainy day conversation with the young Oracle.

-It’s not his problem until he stumbles on the man in question vomiting his guts out behind the gardening shed while the Princess has briefly been called away by nervous servants who make up any excuse to keep her away from the Chancellor she seems set on befriending.

-And Angeal has no desire to take another self-destructive, sharp-tongued, venom-fanged, art-loving, idiot redhead under his wing, but he likes to think he isn’t a horrible person in this life, so he gently rescues the man’s hat before it can fall into the smoking black (???) bile and gently steers the man to the nearby plastic chair Angeal sits on when maintaining his tools. He steps into the shed and comes back out with the thermos of tea he was saving for his own lunch and gently pushes the cup into the man’s hands while gold eyes stare at him and toy with his murder (Angeal has seen this powerful man in a moment of weakness, if Angeal disappears in the next two weeks, he won’t die surprised).

-“You should drink,” Angeal tells him softly, “It will help your stomach settle.”

-“Oh will it now.” Ardyn Izunia drawls even as he takes a slow sip of the herbal blend and makes the tiniest face at the taste. They stay in silence for a while, with the Chancellor recovering his breath on the chair and Angeal debating what to do with the patch of very dead ground where black bile was moments ago and healthy grass had been long before that. In the end he covers it with a piece of old tarp and decides to brave the potential radioactive spot later. Once the man who apparently had that stuff inside him has calmed down and hopefully left.

-“You’re taking this very calmly,” Izunia drawls, and Angeal can feel the barbs on the other man’s tongue, waiting to be unleashed at the slightest provocation.

-“You’re hardly the first man to get an upset stomach,” Angeal deflects calmly, “It’s perfectly normal.”

-A scoff that is startled enough to count as a genuine laugh, “Normal, he says.”

-Angeal ignores the question in there and instead turns around to look thoughtfully at the Chancellor. Without his hat to hide his face and his venomous smiles to discourage scrutiny the man looks ... exhausted. Rung dry. And very, very thin. Like he hasn’t eaten a good meal (or anything at all) in days.

-A workaholic maybe? Or something worse. The Princess is an Oracle after all, her duty will be to heal the sick of the otherwise incurable. It isn’t that much of a jump to say she could sense that Ardyn Izunia was sick and was trying to help even while untrained. Either way it’s not his problem. He’s just a gardener. He has no business interacting with this man beyond the times the Princess insists he does.

-He keeps telling himself that as he disappears back into his shed and comes out with another thermos, this one of soup (it’s a good thing it’s chilly weather, otherwise he would have brought a sandwich and that might be too hard for this man to stomach). He offers a cup of still warm soup to the Chancellor, who stares at it like he doesn’t remember what it is. Angeal keeps holding it out until the man takes it from him, “...You have no idea what is going on do you,” Izunia rasps as he sips almost experimentally on the soup.

-Angeal shrugs, “No. But you look like you could use a sit down, some tea, and some food, and my mother would kill me herself if I refused to share what I had with someone who might need it more.”

-A sneer and a flicker of something furious in gold eyes, “Pity then.”

-Angeal turns back from where he had been about to wander off and resume gardening, because he knows that tone and he knows where it leads and it hurts too much to walk away (this lifetime), “No.” He snaps and the Chancellor blinks in surprise at Angeal’s sudden fire. Angeal picks up the tools he needs for the next hour and says more quietly, “Kindness.”

-“Are they not the same thing?”

-Angeal thinks of a blinding smile from a boy in another life who didn’t know the darkness of the world and made it better in the process, of the Princess who welcomes a leader of the enemy into her home and gives him flowers like he is a long-lost friend. He thinks of another redhead who once said something very similar before the end. He dares to meet golden eyes again, “No,” he tells the Chancellor, “they aren’t. But you’re a smart man. I think you knew that already.”

-Ardyn Izunia stares at him and is, for once, speechless. Angeal turns and hurries away before he can give in to the urge to grab a spare picnic blanket out of the shed and drape it on the man’s shoulders.

-That man is dangerous. He is broken and mad and feral and good at hiding all those things which makes him even more dangerous than he otherwise would be. Angeal cannot (will not) get attached. Not again. He won’t fall into that trap. He isn’t a good friend for anyone, let alone a good moral compass or shoulder to cry on. He’ll just make things worse. He knows that.

-Yet somehow that doesn’t stop him from packing a thermos of soup whenever it starts to lightly rain, and passing out cups of it when the Princess and the Chancellor inevitably wander into his corner of the gardens.

-(And maybe, weeks later, Ardyn Izunia corners Angeal where the Princess cannot see and stares at him for a long time. Maybe Izunia’s face shifts and pales as black blood weeps from his eyes and mouth until he looks not like a man but like a ghoul from a nightmare. Maybe he smiles like a predator looking for a kill and asks “Theseus” if he is frightened. If he is horrified.)

-(Maybe Ardyn is left stunned when the simple gardener looks him in the eye and with painful, gentle honesty says no.)

-(”Why not? I am a monster. You should be afraid.” Ardyn growls, his Scourge on display, his monstrous nature bared for this strange, mild-mannered man to see. And he is stunned when the gardener gently touches his pale, purple-veined hands and guides him down to a familiar plastic chair, as he disappears into the shed and comes back with a familiar thermos of soup and presses the cup into his hands.)

-(He is left speechless when this gardener, this human, this mortal, foolish man, finally answers his question, “This,” the gardener taps one of Ardyn’s deathly pale hands, “doesn’t make you any more or less human, or more or less a monster than me.”)

-(“Then what does?” Ardyn asks in a whisper, not sure if he is curious or insulted or ... desperate.)

-(The gardener just smiles, and in the expression there is something unnervingly old and sad and knowing for someone who has not lived two thousand years and not seen his own humanity crumble before his eyes, “You’re a smart man, Chancellor” he hums, “you tell me.”)

-(And Ardyn finds that he is, once again, speechless.)

[jungcity]

bane of the devil. | i

genre: vampire!jaehyun [ mature | angst | smut ]

pairings: jaehyun x female reader

note: bane of the devil deals with themes of physical, mental, and sexual abuse as well as toxic relationships. which may be upsetting for some readers. you are advised not to continue if you feel uncomfortable to these types of plots.

“father, i dreamt about a boy

his hands, bloodied

eyes like the shot of dawn

with the rebellion in his mouth

he tried to conquer

the moon

with the venom of his prayers

he tried to

search for a god

pray tell me father,

how do i love him

with no flesh, all blood

heaven help us,

how could he love me

if i am the sun?”

— jungcity, bane of the devil // i

Raindrops danced in the air as they fall from the clouds with the squalling winds intensifying the impact of it against the glass window panes. The murmurs and complaints filled the whole room, your classmates begging your professor to turn off the air conditioner. Your mechanical pencil lay forgotten above your table as you stare at the horizon from your seat beside the window. Oh, how you longed for your bed in this cozy weather.

Seven a.m. to seven p.m. class should be classified as a mortal sin— you could not, in the life of you, understand that type of abomination. It is cruel beyond reckoning. Especially when you sit on a room of thirty people, doing nothing as the heavy drops of rain and the cool atmosphere it provides slowly lulls you to slumber.

The only thing that prevented you from doing so was the loud slap of your professor’s hands on table, his voice echoing off the walls of the room. “Alright! Stop chattering!” He yelled as he raised a piece of paper in the air.

You slumped back in your seat. Here we go again. Every time your professors raise their hands while holding papers, you could not help but release a groan.

“Here is the plan for your next plate,” he started. “Photocopy it, take a picture of it, it’s up to you.” He then handed the papers to the student in front. You stared as your classmate’s face crumpled into a grimace while he skimmed the document. That— without a doubt— would also be your face once you get a hold of the plan.

“Just like the last time, bind your A3 papers with two fasteners. There must be a separate sheet for the front page. And please,” the professor exhaled, “Please don’t forget your names! How would I give you a failing grade if I don’t know who you are.” The groans rose up again from the students, your own commixing with the chaos of curses and prayers and the laugh of your professor.

“Hey, hey! Haechan!” You grabbed your friend’s shirt as he scurried off to your classmate in the front row. “Take a picture and send it to the group chat.”

He snatched his shirt away from your grasp while glaring at you, “I know! I know! Wait here.” Then he pulled out his phone, waving it onto your face before dashing to your classmate who has the plan.

You fished for your own phone inside your bag when a boy sat in front of you. He rested his arm on your table and propped his chin on his palm. “Damn, I’m surely gonna die before this semester ends.” Mark groaned, his eyes looking at your table.

You chuckled from your seat, “Three major plates to go, buddy.”

“I’m gonna sell my soul to Satan so I don’t have to do any of this bullcrap.” Haechan threw his phone on to the table. Luckily, you caught it before it slid down and shattered on the hard floors. He let out an infuriated sigh before grabbing one of the chairs and sitting on it beside your table.

“It’s that bad?” Mark grimaced as he pressed the power button of Haechan’s phone. The light of the screen illuminated his soft features in an instant, “Wow. Your phone’s brightness could blind a person,” Mark stated while blinking rapidly.

Haechan said nothing as he leaned his head on your table. You peek at the phone yourself, Mark slowing down his scrolling as you leaned closer.

“Five-storey residential? What?!” You exclaimed. Tons of plates are slowly piling up to you bedroom. Your drafting table could not even hold them anymore, they are littered all over the mattress and the whole place. As your eyes scrutinized the image of the plan, Mark let out a curse as he read the requirements of the residential building.

“Oh, no. The measurements are given,” Mark exchanged glances with you. “I won’t do this shit.” Then the phone toppled over the table again after Mark threw it. Haechan snatched his phone back with a special glare meant only for Mark before laying his head back on the table.

The rain continued to ravage the roof and the ground as the three of you rested your heads on your desk. Chatters and the shuffling of drafting materials once again dominated the whole room, with a few of your classmates cursing at the back as they play their online games.

“I had at least thirty-minutes of sleep today,” you declared. Your eyes feels heavy and your body seemed to be softening and turning into jelly by the sleep deprivation.

“Wow. I didn’t even have a blink of sleep myself.” Haechan mumbled, face still covered by his arms.

After your heavy nap, the three of you woke up with red-rimmed eyes. If you could continue sleeping in your room until tomorrow, you would. But of course, that is not possible.

Your classmates started to pack their things as the professor came back and dismissed the whole class. It has always been like that; your prof giving yet another plan and then dismissing the whole class two or three hours earlier than the scheduled time. You would have not attended today’s class if not for the other plates that needed to be submitted.

Despite the sullenness of your house because of your brother’s absence, you still wanted to go home and nap. It does not matter if you have mountains of plates to do, what truly matters is you, going home to the tranquility and safety of your house before midnight. It was a habit you’ve grown accustomed to since the untimely death of your parents.

Your path goes different ways from Mark and Haechan. That’s why you sat alone in the bus as they stand in the waiting shed while waiting for theirs. Both of them waved at you, mouthing the words ‘take care’. You answered them with a slight wave of your hand before putting on your earbuds.

The rain has calmed down already, leaving the stores drenched, the highway splotched with circles of rainwater. Yet the lightning still dominated the skies, white lights flashing like roots reflected in your irises as you stare at the bleakness of the heavens through the bus’ windows. The speed of the vehicle made everything blurry; from the blustery wind slapping against the trees to the lights from different stores. They filled your sight as the music continued to blast in your ear.

Your phone vibrated against your hand, stopping the music. You glanced at the screen and saw your brother’s caller ID. Johnny. Automatically, your brow shot up to your forehead. He has been away for two weeks now, doing God only knows what on the other side of the ocean. Of course, your big brother calls every night to check up on you. But tonight, he called earlier than usual.

You attempted to slide the green button when your cell phone flew away from your grasp, your head hitting the seat in front of you, eliciting a loud groan to escape from your lips. Loud protestations echoed from the students and elders alike, their own faces bedraggled as they recover themselves from the impact of the bus drawing to a halt.

“What happened?” An elderly woman asked, her hand on the middle of her chest while breathing heavily.

“There’s a person who crossed the road.” The conductor explained, but his words sounded unsure.

The woman’s eyes widened, “Is the person alright?” She stood up from her seat, one hand grabbing the railings in front of her.

“That’s what we’re confused about, Ma’am. The person is nowhere on the asphalt. He ran with a dashing speed… it’s impossible.” You didn’t know if it was amazement or fear that was laced with the conductor’s voice, but his statement caught your attention nonetheless.

The nagging curiosity inside your chest spreads like wild fire. If ever your intuition is right, you have to find that person or whatever that is. A speed like that could only be achieved by one creature. Your brother might call you a freak or a delusional little girl again, but it might be the only way to get answers. Answers that he did not bother to find when your parents died.

The truth is, years ago, your parents had their inopportune death. But the authorities has not yet to find the murderer. How could they? When there was no DNA in the crime scene but your parents’. How could they? If the murderer was not even a person to begin with.

Deep in your heart, you know. You know the world is enfolded with mysteries that a human mind would not be able to perceive. Cloak-and-dagger as it is, you understood that reality the moment you saw the two dots that were obviously from a penetration of fangs embedded in your parents’ necks.

‘Vampire! Vampire!’ was your unending scream at the morgue. Since you were only a little girl back then, no one paid attention to you. Not the policemen, not even your brother.

It did not surprise you when everyone called it a hopeless case. In their eyes, it was. But in yours, it’s not. Ever since your parents were murdered, you have been drinking the myths and lore of vampires. Day and night you devoured books, watched vampire sightings, studied their strengths as well as their weaknesses. It simply was a thirst you could not quench.

It was like that until you started college. You could not simply search for a free time to indulge yourself about those undead, blood-sucking creatures any longer. But every articles, every information, were still plastered to a blackboard inside your bedroom. A reminder of what you have been sleuthing for all your life.

Yellow lights illuminated the pool of waters on the asphalt road. You tiptoed as to prevent your shoes from getting soaked. Plastics, styrofoams, as well as vegetables skins from the uncollected drenched trash bins littered all over the street.

At long last, the shadow of your apartment appeared. Darkness invaded the vicinity, a quiet reminder that there isn’t any person present inside. You pulled out your phone from the back pocket of your jeans, ten missed calls from Johnny were displayed in the notifications. Frustrated from what happened inside the bus, you continued to ignore his calls earlier, despite your phone vibrating continuously.

Your phone’s flashlight casted a white light upon the dimness. Keys in your left hand, and your phone in your right, you struggled to jam the keys into the hole. When the gates finally opened, you sent Johnny a text that says you’re already home.

“At long fucking last.”

Your phone went flying to the grass yet again as you saw a figure looming in the shadows. A silent curse slid past your lips as you hurriedly picked it up, dead and wet grass sticking onto the screen. Once again, you pressed the flashlight button to see through the darkness.

And there, in the corner near the door, a man with a bloodied face stares at you with a cigar in between his lips. Spontaneously, your heart thudded frantically in your chest. You wanted to shout, but the scream bubbled out in your mouth and then nothing came out.

“Who are you?” You managed to ask.

The man didn’t answer. He pulled something out of his pockets. You took a step back. Only when he struggled to light his cigarette you realized it was only a lighter. His hands continued to shake, and you have no idea why haven’t you screamed for help yet. They say curiosity killed the cat. Right now, you do not doubt the saying as your curiosity ascended your fear.

“Care to light this for me, kitten?” He stretched out his hand to offer you the lighter. His endearment catching you like a deer in the headlights.

“Who are you and what are you doing here? All bloodied?”

The man sighed and started to light his cigar again. “The name’s Jaehyun. I’m friends with your brother, Johnny.” He offered you the lighter once more, “Now, will you light this up for me? As you can see, I’m shaking and bleeding.”

After his last word, you glanced up and down his body, the light of your phone following your action. And then you saw as blood poured out from a wound on his side. You hadn’t noticed it earlier because of his black shirt.

“What— I don’t— are you alright?” What stupid, stupid question. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath. Is this why your brother were so eager to call you? Because apparently, his friend stands bloodied in front of your doorstep.

“I feel like shit but I’m alright.” Smoke puffed out of his lips as he succeeded in lighting his cigarette after numerous attempts. “Won’t you open the door?” He nudged his head to the direction of the door. You blinked and felt the keys in your palms again.

“Tell me what’s happening first.”

It’s cruel, but if he manages to stay alive while blood gushes out of his stomach, you believed he could concisely explain to you what’s going on.

“Women are so fucking difficult,” he mumbled. “I will tell you everything once we’re inside and you’re stitching up my goddamned wound.”

“What?!” It was a scream more than a word. “Listen, I don’t know how to stitch up—”

He cut you off, “Well that’s a pity.” Then he threw away the bud of the cigarette to the ground. “Listen, I’m going to pass out anytime soon,” then he licked his lips, “Better open this door so we could get to business.”

“Promise me you won’t do anything to me.” It’s childish and you feel pathetic, but you said it anyways. Perhaps this man in front of you has a bottle of conscience in his system despite his unkempt look.

Jaehyun only looked at you, face impassive. “You’re not my type.”

You choked on your own saliva. “You’re unbelievable.” You ignored his smirk as you sauntered up to the door. Both of you were enveloped in a silence, the only noise coming from the keys jamming into the keyhole.

Another darkness greeted you as you opened the door, you searched for the switch with your sweaty hand. The metal tang the keys left on your palm wafted your nose, making you feel gross and dirty.

You wrenched the keys out of the hole as the light finally infiltrated the living room. Your brow shot up when Jaehyun made no move to enter the house.

“Invite me first,” he stated.

If you could raise your brow higher, you would. His question was unexpected for someone itching to enter your house mere minutes earlier.

“Come… in?” You reluctantly offered.

There was mischief and bad news in his eyes as he stepped inside the house. “So the authorities would say that you invited me willingly.”

“What the fuck do you mean?” You demanded, gripping the doorknob tightly.

He only winked at you. But you are not having any of it. It was a bad idea inviting this stranger inside.

“Get out.” You ordered. Jaehyun attempted to say something but you repeated the words with enough ferocity. “Get out!”

He held up his hand, his right pulling out something from his pockets again. A paper.

“Here.”

You stared at the paper for a good two minutes before you snatched it away from his hand.

This is to certify that the apartment owned by Johnny and Y/N Y/L/N has been sold and therefore owned by Mr. Jung Jaehyun.

No. No, no, no. The paper must be a trick. It’s probably a forged paper made by this man in front of you to take his advantage and trick you.

“This is forged.” You balled the paper and threw it his way. Jaehyun picked it up with bloodied fingers. His shirt was now saturated with his blood. But you could not bring yourself to care now that he poses a threat to your safety.

“Forged? Do you not recognize the lawyer who signed this paper?” He started to flatten out the paper again. “The best in town. You could go to his office right now to inquire about this. But I won’t waste money if I were you.”

For the second time that night, you snatched away the paper from him. It was completely crumpled, but the texts printed out were still glaring at you. You skimmed the printed letters with your head spinning, eyes only stopping when you see three signatures below. One for your brother, one for Jaehyun, one for the attorney. It was signed by a pen, that much you’re sure of. Being an architecture student familiarized you to different type of pens. You’re certain they had used a ballpoint pen to sign the contract.

Still, you went dumbfounded as you let the realization hit you. Your brother, Johnny, just sold your apartment for this blood soaked guy in front of you.

“Since when?” You asked through gritted teeth, not looking up from the papers.

Jaehyun let out a frustrated sigh, his hand clamping his wound. “Since last week.”

“Will you…” You sighed, it was so difficult to get the words come out, “… will you let me stay the night? I promise I’ll go first thing in the morning.” Your hand which is holding the paper shook. Mixed feelings of anger, shame, and confusion swirled in your head.

Jaehyun waved his hand before sitting on the sofa, his bloodied hands imprinting the arms of it red. You bit back the anger as you realized that you have no rights to be angry.

“You could stay the night, of course.” He reclined his head, “But stitch me up first before you go packing.”

How had he managed to stay alive with the loss of too much blood, you have no idea. But you shook your head and declined him again, “I don’t know how. You might get an infection.”

“Needle… I need a needle,” He breathed and shut his eyes, you panicked as you thought he passed out already. But then he opened his one eye and fixed it to you, “I’ll do it myself.”

“Why don’t we just go to the hospital?”

It was embarrassing that you only thought of the idea now. But Jaehyun only snorted, “Trust me, that’s the last resort you’d think of if you truly knew me.”

There is no point talking to him. His mouth pours metaphors you could not be bothered to comprehend. So you trudged the distance to the small drawer laying just below the television and grabbed the sewing kit inside.

You laid it on the table. Jaehyun groaned before grabbing the needle and the thread. He does not look pained. He looks more tired. And only when you were sitting beside him you noticed how pale he appeared to be. His lips looked wan, his face pallid.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hos—”

“No,” was his monosyllabic reply. You didn’t press any further.

Jaehyun started to insert the thread through the needle, but like his dreaded attempts to lit his cigarette earlier, his aim to get the thread through the little hole went in complete vain. “Fuck,” he muttered as the pin dropped on the floors.

“Let me.” You finally offered before picking up the needle and seizing the thread from his grasp. With your one eye shut close, you dampened the needle with your tongue before thrusting it through the hole. In a blink, you succeeded.

“Here—” You were cut off once again when Jaehyun’s body fell back on the sofa. His eyes closed. The nervous and shock kicked in your stomach as you leaned closer to him but felt nothing in his chest. He doesn’t look like he is breathing, too.

“Oh my God, don’t fucking die.” You repeated the words as you grabbed your phone and dialed nine-one-one. Sweats started to form in your forehead, your own heart beating in a panic-stricken rhythm.

The ringing stopped, and the voice of the person from the other side greeted you calmly.

“I— there’s— I—” Your words are incoherent from the panic that is vibrating from your head to your toes. The person tried to calm you down but to no avail. You inhaled and exhaled, mind blank. “I—” Then a hand grabbed your wrist. You jumped in your seat, only to see Jaehyun, wide-eyed looking at you.

“I told you, no doctors.”

“But— how— what?” How is he alive?

“I am fine. Just really need to stitch this up so I could recover easily.” Then his eyes started to lose their life again.

“Don’t! Don’t sleep! Stay awake!” You screamed at him. Jaehyun began to lose consciousness again. The forgotten thread and needle was back on your hands in an instant. Loud sets of profanities reverberated from your mouth as you lifted his shirt. You exhaled as you saw the long laceration starting from beside his navel to his waist.

“I can’t do this alone, I just can’t.” You swallowed, praying that his innards won’t slide out of his stomach. Where did he get this wound?

“You have no other choice, have you?” He whispered, voice straining. “Just close it and stitch it. I won’t scream,” he expressed.

“That’s not my problem! What if.. what if I’ll make it worse?”

“You won’t.” Jaehyun looked at you with hooded eyes.

This is not what you’ve expected to come home to. The schedule was to go home, eat, shower, and start your plates. Stitching up a long god-forsaken wound wasn’t on your to-do list.

You closed your eyes, trying to inhale and exhale. When you felt like your mind was clear of worries, you finally opened your eyes and started to hold Jaehyun’s skin. The tang of blood filled the whole room, your fingers sliding as it touched his bloodied skin. You let out a breath before clamping the open wound with your fingers, your other hand working its way to pierce the needle into his skin.

Goosebumps ran down your spine as you felt the needle pierced his flesh. White thread came out red as you pulled it to fasten his skin back together. You wiped your forehead with the back of your hand as you pushed on with your work. With each pierce and puncture, your tension and the shaking of your hands lessened.

“Are you okay?” You asked Jaehyun when you were finally in the middle of the wound. He did not utter a word ever since you started; not a protest nor a painful scream.

“Yes… it does not hurt.” His voice came out as a whisper that you doubted his answer.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“If I am in your position right now, I would’ve screamed like hell. Imagine, we didn’t use any anesthesia, but you still managed to look comfortable and calm,” you mumbled, trying to keep Jaehyun awake.

“Do you wanna know why?”

“Why?” A small chuckle resonated from your throat then. Jaehyun popped an eye open, and you waited for some dramatic lines like ‘I’m used to the pain’ to escape his lips, but his answer drew you to a sudden halt instead.

“Because I am a vampire.”

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