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dollyyun · 5 months

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𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬' 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

SYNOPSIS: Final exams are approaching, and you have every intention to immerse yourself in studying for the next two weeks, but your best friends decide that it's a good idea to drag you out with them to attend an all-exclusive event called 'The Devil's Night' since it is Halloween week. Initially, you feel disgruntled and detested by such a social event, especially one that is hosted by specific delinquents, but eventually, you allow yourself to relax and enjoy the night. However, some the invited guests, including you, have no notion of what the devil's knights' goal is for this year's Halloween. From the moment you begrudgingly agreed to go to the event, you were fucked because you had no idea what truly awaited you ─ you had no idea how your life would take a drastic turn, especially when you had become their prey.

PAIRING: non!idols enha hyung line x fem!reader

GENRE: 18+ (mdni), college au, semi-adulthood, reverse harem, dark themes.

WORD COUNT: 18.8k

WARNINGS: mentions of christianity, dramas, profanities, degradation, slut-shaming, alcohol consumptions, groping, slapping, crying, sexual assault, explicit themes, one sex scene, voyeurism, coercion, blood, violence, murder, toxicity, perversion, corruption.

PLAYLIST: No Hands - Waka Flocka, Tonight - Big Bang, RUNRUNRUN - Dutch Melrose, Scream - Usher, Animals - Maroon 5, Disturbia - Rihanna, guilty conscience - Tate McRae.

NEXT (PART 2) ✘ SERIES MASTERLIST ✘

Standing in front of a full-length mirror, your reflection stares at you with an abundant clarity of irresolution, mirroring the inner turmoil within you. Your eyes begin to scan your appearance from head to toe in incredulity. Never in your twenty-one years of life have you ever dressed as provocatively as you are now. Heck, you don’t even recognise yourself.

The white cami bodycon corset dress feels tight as it accentuates your curves and has a designated contrast lace bustier that levitates your breasts and displays your cleavage, while a portion of your torso is conspicuously visible through the translucent material. The length of the dress reaches so far above your thighs that when you attempt to bend down ninety degrees, your white lace underwear peeks under.

You're not the type to critique people for how they dress, and you have nothing against people who wear revealing clothes, but right now? You practically look like a slut. A slutty angel, at that.

Your nose automatically scrunches up at the licentious thought. This is definitely not what you had in mind when your best friends, slash roommates, decided to buy you a ‘costume’ that fit the theme that they had also chosen for you ─ an angel. It is definitely ironic how the theme they chose for you supposedly requires you to dress decently.

When your gaze finally settles on the silver cross pendant that rests delicately on your chest, guilt coils in your stomach, and your moment of prior incertitude manages to render you completely disheartened while your eyes turn crestfallen.

What were you thinking? You’re supposed to live up to the code as expected of you, including to avoid dressing indecently and act with grace. But here you are, all dolled up with excessive skin revealing, and you still refuse to recognise that the person staring back at you is indeed you.

If your parents were here to see you now, they would have chastised and disowned you for dressing the way you are now.

Your parents, particularly your mother, are quite religious and strictly abide by the rules and codes of Christianity. However, your parents’ love and devotion to the religion were something you truly adored. Growing up, your parents often brought you to the church along with them, and you recall getting so excited at the sight of the familiar divine building situated in your neighbouring area that you even rushed to greet the priest eagerly. Every member of the church recognised you, and they would always warmly welcome you and your family, especially when your parents were regulars.

You were loved by them. As a matter of fact, you’ve been called ‘angel’ by them because of your kind and sweet disposition, how helpful you were whenever someone asked you for assistance, how obedient you were whenever you were told to do something, and how you resonated with people by how naturally sympathetic you were.

Everyone used to tell your parents how blessed they were to have you as their daughter. Your parents agreed and often thanked the Lord for blessing them with a daughter like you. Not only did you follow your parents’ example in the religion, but you had also been bestowed with the gift of being naturally smart since you were young until now. Truly, you were blessed, and each morning when you woke up, you didn’t forget to thank the Lord.

However, as you take in your appearance once more, your guilt becomes tenfold while disappointment creeps up on you. How dare you have the audacity to wear the necklace your father bought for you when you are dressed like this? You shake your head, taking a step back. This is not you. You should have never agreed to this in the first place.

Furthermore, final exams are approaching, and you had every intention to immerse yourself in studying for the next two weeks, but your best friends decided that it was a good idea to drag you out with them to attend an all-exclusive event called 'The Devil's Night' since it is Halloween week.

Initially, you felt disgruntled and detested by such a social event, especially one that is hosted by specific delinquents, but upon relentless pursuit of being coaxed by your best friends, you eventually found yourself caving in. Besides, you can’t deny that there is a small part of you that has always wanted to experience a college party since you have never been to one.

However, just because you have never been to one doesn’t mean that you have no idea what a college party entails. You have seen firsthand what happened to your roommates right after they came back from parties or even clubs, and it certainly wasn’t anything pleasant. Nonetheless, you offered to help them by assisting them in holding up their hair while they retched in the toilet bowl and getting them to bed, despite the grimace on your face.

A knock pulls you out of your thoughts, and your eyes remain on the mirror while they trail to a familiar face from behind. She looks absolutely striking with her overall fit, which matches her theme, which is that she is a cowgirl.

“Hey, Yunjin.” You greet her rather weakly.

Yunjin, as enthusiastic as ever, offers you a smile, displaying her pearly teeth. “Hey, gorgeous. Are you ready to go?”

Usually, you would reciprocate, as her smiles are infectious, but this time, with the doubts lingering in your head, you remain crestfallen. “No. I don’t think I’m up for it anymore.” You murmur, your eyes lowering, and that is also when Yunjin’s smile drops as she finally notices how crestfallen you look.

You don’t lift your head up, even as you hear her footsteps from behind. You feel her hands on your bare shoulders, turning you around and tilting your chin up with her fingers. Your eyes reluctantly meet her hazel-hued ones, which are tinged with resolution.

“I know that you are having doubts about this, but trust me when I say that just because you’re attending a party and dressing up like this, gorgeously at that, does not make you unworthy or any lesser in the eyes of our religion.” Her voice comes out strong yet tinges with gentleness, which you can’t help but acquiesce to.

Hun Yunjin, otherwise known as Jennifer, has been your childhood best friend, albeit not enrolled in the same elementary and high schools. She is an international business major. You met her when you first started to attend Sunday services at your neighbouring church. You recall sitting next to her and randomly engaging in a conversation with her, despite the fact that you two were not supposed to drift off to your own mini-world. You thought you would never see her again, but the next Sunday service proved you wrong. From there, you and Yunjin formed a newfound friendship, and you declared that she was your church buddy. That remained constant until you two hit sixteen, and you didn’t see her as regularly as before.

Just like that, you lost contact with her, and subsequently, you began to wonder what went wrong and questioned your friendship with her, which you cherished dearly. Not many years later, when you first stepped foot in this university, you met Yunjin again, and miraculously, she turned out to be one of your assigned roommates. You assumed that she would not recognise you or even brush you off coldly, but you were overjoyed when she welcomed you with a bear-crushed hug and told you how much she had missed you.

The thought of asking her what truly happened years ago did come to your mind, but for some reason, you were afraid and apprehensive of the outcome, and more importantly, you didn’t want to lose her again. So you chose to play safe. But what matters most is that you have reunited with her.

In return, you muster a faint smile on your pink, glossed lips. “You always have a way with words.” You say before releasing a soft sigh. “Fine, I’m ready.”

Yunjin’s firm exterior cracks, and her red lips curl into a grin. “That’s my girl.”

“Girls! Are we ready to go─” A gasp pulls you away from Yunjin’s eyes, and when you look at a familiar figure standing by the door to your room, you become in awe of how alluring she looks with her theme, dressed up as a catwoman.

“You look amazing, Karina.” You compliment her earnestly. Genuinely, she knocks the breath out of you, and despite being roommates for three and a half years, her striking beauty often makes you question yourself about whether she is indeed real.

Truth be told, you didn’t get along with Karina in the first few semesters. As she’s a fashion design major, it was inevitable that such a mess was expected from her, but you didn’t expect for her mess to scatter to the shared living room. You’re particular about cleanliness, so you disapprove of your roommate being blatantly inconsiderate, especially when you and your other roommates have had to clean up her mess. You recall when Karina overheard you delivering your complaints to your other two roommates, and she confronted you. From then on, she began nitpicking you, and you often found yourself in a dispute with her. You got upset whenever she pointed out the fact that you were plain and boring.

Precisely two years ago, you found her alone in the living room, at three a.m., as she was drinking her heart out with tears streaming down her cheeks and her eyes red. You wanted to mind your own business as usual, but it didn’t sit right with you to leave your roommate alone to reel in despair, so you cautiously approached her, and surprisingly, she confided in you. That was when you got to know that she had been cheated on by her boyfriend.

You listened attentively to her, and you even offered comforting words to her in which she thanked you by giving you a hug before falling asleep on you. Of course, you had tucked her in to sleep on the couch with a pillow for her head to rest on and a blanket to give her body some warmth.

You swore that Karina would return to her usual self, but she took you by surprise once more when she started to become amiable towards you. From then on, you two developed a newfound sense of camaraderie.

“Says you! You look drop-dead gorgeous!” Karina exclaims, her red lips outstretched into a wide smile, while you detect sincerity in her tone. “I’m proud to declare that my taste in fashion is impeccable.”

“I agree.” Yunjin chimes, casting you a smirk while your cheeks flush in pink from their fond gazes on you. “Our girl looks like a literal angel. If I were gay, I would have hit you up long ago.”

Before you can say anything, a new yet familiar voice joins in the conversation. “I know I agreed for Y/N to join us, but after some thought about it, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Your eyes shift from Karina to the tall, raven-haired beauty next to her. Once again, you are captivated by her beauty and how truly stunning her overall fit is, in which her theme is a mermaid, and you are not exaggerating when you say that she looks like a literal mermaid goddess.

“Why do you think so, Wonyoung?” Yunjin asks with a frown.

Jang Wonyoung, one of the university’s it girls and the girl whom you can call your soul sister. You recall the first time you met her when she opened the door to your dorm. You were captivated by her doll-like beauty and were so stunned that you stammered your words when you reciprocated her warm greeting. Wonyoung is in the same major as you, journalism.

Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that the two of you are in the same major and in the same classes, but you found it peculiar how fast you got along well with her during your first week as freshmen. Nonetheless, you were grateful to have found a friend like her.

Although you are close with Yunjin and Karina, you can’t deny the fact that you feel more comfortable and at ease with Wonyoung. The two of you understand each other, even without words. Both of you are kindred spirits; whenever you feel down, it affects her just the same, and you two often share your victories together without any hidden jealousy or ill-feelings. There is this special connection you have to Wonyoung that is indescribable. Even your other friends often joke that the two of you are long-lost twin sisters.

Wonyoung’s eyes flicker to yours fleetingly, but it is enough for her to affirm her prior intuition before she returns her gaze to Karina and Yunjin. “I just have a bad feeling about Y/N going, okay? You guys do know that my intuition has never failed me.” She tells them firmly. “Besides, it’s an all-exclusive event for invited guests only.”

“So? We can easily sneak Y/N in since there will be tons of guests.” Karina shrugs her shoulders. “Their bouncers are kind of sloppy anyway. Remember when some of the uninvited students sneaked in last year and the years before that?”

“And what did that lead to?” Wonyoung counters firmly with a single eyebrow arched. This time, silence befalls Karina while you notice Yunjin’s grim expression.

“What happened?” You ask, finally speaking up. There is no denying how intrigued you are by the sudden yet discernible change in the air between your best friends.

“There is nothing that you need to concern yourself with.” Yunjin is quick to recover herself as she shoots you a charming grin while nudging her elbow against yours. “Come on. At this rate, we’ll be the last ones to arrive.”

“Maybe. But at least we’ll arrive fashionably late.” Karina mirrors Yunjin's grin.

You decide to push aside your curiosity and proceed to grab your phone while Karina and Yunjin have already made their way out of your room. After adjusting your wavy locks in the mirror, you turn around to depart from your room. Your eyebrows jump when you see Wonyoung waiting for you just outside, and her face remains as serious as ever.

“Are you sure about this?” She asks you, and her voice has a touch of gentleness to it, which makes your eyes soften.

“Yes.” Although you sound sure, you can’t say the same for your churning stomach. Giving her a tight smile, you begin to loop your arm around hers. “If you’re too worried about me, rest assured that I won’t stray from you.”

“Good.” Wonyoung seems a tad satisfied with your statement. A small smile appears on her pink lips. “Maybe I am worrying about nothing. This is supposed to be your first ever Halloween party. We should be having fun! That is as long as we stick together.”

You smile wryly in return. She knows better than anyone that your idea of fun consists of rotting in bed and reading a few good books on a Friday night.

When you first heard of Devil’s Night, you had an inkling that the event, let alone the name itself, was undoubtedly not good news.

Devil’s Night is an annual Halloween event that is hosted by the notorious fraternity of devil’s knights, but according to your best friends, the overall in-charge of Devil’s Night are the four leaders. However, you see them all the same ─ just a bunch of delinquents who love to flaunt and assert dominance over Crestview Meadows University everywhere they go.

Naturally, you expected the location of the event to be a frat member’s backyard, but as soon as Karina, who volunteered to drive the three of you to Devil’s Night, presses on the pedal gas and prompts her vehicle to move forward after the golden gates opened, your jaw goes slightly unhinging at the sight of a divine modernization palace.

As Karina continues to drive, searching for an empty spot to pull over on the massive asphalt where different vehicles are arrayed, you are busily getting enthralled by the captivating structures of fountains in the front yard. The movement of people making their way to the entrance of the grand palace captures your attention, and your eyes sparkle in amazement at the diversity in their costume designs.

As soon as Karina manages to pull over at an empty spot and turns off the ignition, you step out of her vehicle with your eyes remaining fixated on the divine palace. You swear that it is nearly as massive as your campus. You begin to wonder who resides in the palace, and if so, has Devil’s Night always been hosted here?

“Y/N, don’t forget your mask.” Wonyoung’s voice from behind pulls your attention away from the palace. When you look at the white domino mask in her grasp, you gladly retrieve it from her and attempt to wear it, but Wonyoung and even Yunjin insist on assisting you, doing so with care.

Your cheeks flush pink once more. Despite being the same age as them, your best friends and your other friends often baby you, including protecting you from anyone who has ill-intent towards you, especially from some of the frat members who have tried to approach you in the past. Of course, you feel much gratitude for your friends, and you are blessed to be surrounded by feminine love and support. There are moments where you do feel overwhelmed by them, but according to their words, your innocence is highlighted as crucial and needs to be protected. Hence, they often shelter you from the cruelty of reality and want you to remain the way you are.

Pure, and a literal saint.

“There!” Yunjin gives you a grin as she pats your cheek affectionately. “With your mask, it’ll be hard for anyone outside of our circle to recognise you.”

As the four of you begin to make your way to the entrance of the grand palace, with Wonyoung interlocking her arm around yours, your fingers make their ascent to touch your mask. Your best friends have agreed that, in order to sneak in seamlessly, you needed a mask to conceal half of your identity. They wouldn’t want to risk anything. A part of you wonders what would happen to the uninvited guests crashing into the event, but another part of you retains your curiosity before it gets the best of you.

At the moment, as the bunch of you walk past the bouncers standing by the entrance, you hold your breath while your heart pounds against your chest, but when they allow you in, you release a relieved yet shaky breath. You feel Wonyoung’s arm squeezing around you in reassurance, and you voluntarily relax every tension in your body, but your heart remains pounding. You can’t ignore the turmoil within you, uncertain of what the night will entail.

“You guys made it!” A high-pitch squeal diverts your attention from admiring the opulence of the palace’s interior to the familiar blonde, who is dressed up as Annabelle from the famous conjuring film, but she manages to pull off the look rather gorgeously instead of terrifying. Her eyes instantly meet yours, and her face beams with a widening smile. “You came!”

You don’t have time to process when she crashes into you, her arms latching around your figure and steadying you while chuckles elicit from you as you reciprocate her eager hug. “You’ve just seen me yesterday, Winter.”

Winter, who also majors in journalism, is a part of the inner circle and your friend. She is like a bolt of lightning. Despite her ebullient disposition, she can be fierce and intimidating when needed.

“Yeah, but we can’t believe that you’re actually here!” This time, another voice causes you to look at the sight, and at once, the rest of the inner circle has gathered around you, giving you hugs and gushing over your look.

In your line of sight are Kazuha, Chaewon, Liz, Rei, Giselle, and Ningning. Whereas Kazuha and Chaewon are majoring in arts and entertainment management, Liz, Rei, and Ningning are majoring in economics. Giselle, on the other hand, is in the same major as you. Despite the fact that all of them are highly regarded as the it girls of the university, not once have they ever left you out and made you feel an outcast, especially considering that most of the student body dislikes you for reasons you deem ridiculous.

So what if they hate you just because you are not from an esteemed, affluent family? You managed to pass an entrance exam with a perfect score, and you even earned yourself scholarships. Frankly speaking, you are not bothered by the fact that there are students who dislike you for your status ranking, because in the end, your GPA remains a perfect 4.0 and your professors favour you most. Plus, your future is all set.

“Okay, ladies, gather around." Yunjin announces, and the group of you huddle in a circle, with giggles and banter emanating from you and your friends. “While we’re here to have fun, we must never forget to keep Y/N in our sight at all times, especially since this is her first time attending Devil’s Night.”

“Hey, I’m not a kid. I can take care of myself.” You insert yourself strongly, but your demur goes unheard by them as they continue to quickly run through what to look out for, mainly because your safety is highly regarded by them.

“It’s for your own good, Y/N.” Wonyoung tells you softly after noticing the expression on your face as soon as they begin to disperse while you remain by her side, dragging you with her. Wonyoung and your other best friends seem to know their way around the palace, pushing their way through the bustling crowd.

“You girls really don’t have to worry about me.” You remain adamant while reluctantly allowing yourself to be dragged by Wonyoung. Your eyebrows furrow, and your lips form a small pout. “I know how and when to steer clear of trouble.”

“I know, but you have to understand that this is different.” Wonyoung asserts firmly, to which you can’t help but resign.

Still, you mutter, but audible enough for Karina and Yunjin to hear, “What is so different about a mere Halloween party?”

“It is different because each Halloween hosted by the devil’s knights differs from the previous Halloween.” Karina answers, and when you look into her eyes, uncertainty shines through. “Really, we can never predict what they have up their sleeves. But one thing that remains constant is the fact that Devil’s Night is not meant for any faint of heart.”

“Ironic, because here we are, dragging Y/N with us.” There is a certain bite in Wonyoung’s tone.

“Nothing is going to happen to Y/N as long as she is in our sight.” Yunjin reassures Wonyoung once more, and your attention drifts to the scenery before you.

It appears that you haven’t been paying attention to your surroundings earlier, and now you find yourself entering what looks like a club. Incredulity buzzes through you. You definitely did not expect that there would be a club inside the palace. As a matter of fact, the club looks lavish, with a B-stage right at the very front and a bustling crowd enjoying and dancing to the music that has obscene lyrics, which makes your face twist in a grimace. You have no idea how enormous the venue is, but you can’t deny the fact that you find it impressive, and there are even two separate bars on each side of the venue.

Yunjin grabs you by your forearm and drags you with her and Karina to head over to the bar while Wonyoung trails behind you. Thankfully, there are not many people by the bar, but even so, you become conscious of how you look as eyes latch onto your form.

“Am I showing too much skin?” You ask Yunjin in a whisper as you settle next to her, seated on a high stool.

Yunjin’s eyes scan all over you before she gives you a smirk. “Yeah, but don’t worry. You look absolutely stunning. It’s a shame that you’ve been gatekeeping your beautiful complexion and your curves all this time.”

“Agreed!” Karina chimes next to Yunjin, casting you a mirthful grin. “You should be flaunting your curves and proving to those fuckers who insulted you for the way you looked that underneath your layer of clothes is the body of a model!”

You dismiss the profanity that left Karina’s mouth, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment. “You girls flatter me too much.”

“It isn’t flattery when it is true.” Yunjin flags down one of the bartenders to give him her order before she looks back at you. “Do you want a non-alcoholic beverage?”

“Actually, I’d like to try an alcoholic cocktail.” Your statement surprises your best friends as they look at you with wide eyes, knowing that you have never drunk any alcoholic beverages. After all, you are practically a saint.

“Are you sure?” As always, Wonyoung’s worry for you is evident. “You might get tipsy after a few sips since you have never drunk one before.”

“Don’t discourage her, Wony.” Karina says with a disapproving frown on her lips. “If Y/N says she wants one, she will have one.”

“A tequila sunrise for the angel here.” Yunjin chirps to the bartender, and being a natural flirt, she winks at the guy who, in return, blushes but quickly proceeds to make all of your orders.

As the three of your best friends are engaged in a conversation, you decide to look over your shoulder with your body tilting to watch the ongoing performance from a live band. You can’t deny that the music seems to be getting to you, and seeing the partygoers dancing and having fun tempts you to join them.

Unknowingly, your lips curve into a small smile. Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes have been watching you closely with a sharp gaze just near the bar, where there are velvet couches arrayed.

“Here, Y/N.” Yunjin pushes the glass of cocktail towards you as you look down at the liquid, which is a vibrant blue.

Your fingers latch onto the stem of the glass, raising it just slightly while hesitation touches your tongue. Your best friends watch in anticipation, and you don’t want to disappoint them. So you bring the edge of the glass closer until your lips touch.

You tip your head towards the back as you begin to take sips of the liquid. Surprisingly, the taste isn’t as bad, and neither is it too strong. It is rather addictive, so you eagerly drink the rest of the content until there is nothing left.

“How’s your first drink?” Wonyoung asks as she examines you carefully.

Maybe it’s the alcohol that is starting to affect your system, but you feel oddly elated. You give your best friend a grin, with your dimples appearing on your cheeks. “I think I would like to have another.” Of course, Karina and Yunjin are more than eager to indulge you, while Wonyoung remains neutral.

Once again, unbeknownst to you, the same pair of eyes that have been watching you closely are enthralled by the new sight of you.

Seated leisurely on the velvet couch with his legs spread, his lips tip up in a smirk as he takes sips of his vodka while his eyes remain fixated on your enticing figure and your angelic features.

You have no idea how things escalated. Just moments ago, you were having fun with your best friends by the bar, and even Wonyoung lowered her guards after seeing how genuinely carefree you looked. Now, you are among the bustling crowd. You lose sight of your best friends as you venture further. Instead of panicking, you find yourself enjoying it with your body instinctively moving to the infectious rhythm in which the DJ is currently playing Waka Flocka’s ‘No Hands’ as it reverberates throughout these walls.

Maybe it’s the alcohol in your system that has completely intoxicated you and renders you slightly tipsy, as evident by the way you emit giggles and how you’re dancing fluidly as though you are a natural at it, but not a single thought of regret appears in your mind.

Feeling a tad annoyed by your domino mask, you rashly remove it, not caring whether someone may or may not recognise you. Besides, the people in your vicinity seem too inebriated to care, as they dance and even make out lewdly in the open with their partners.

A part of you is berating you for losing yourself in the abysmal of this toxicity, but you shut down that part of you, giving into the whispers of the devils and succumbing to the addictive thrill by allowing yourself to flaunt your moves.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes have been watching you as he gradually makes his way to you despite the bustling crowd, and the moment they see him, they part and make way for him. The way you move got him in a trance, especially with each sway from your body. Your curves, which your skimpy dress accentuated, entice him to place his hands all over you.

Your giggles sound melodious to his ears as soon as he nearly reaches you from behind. His eyes darken with each passing second as your body sways with fluidity, and your back is arched with your head tilted up, immersing yourself in the music while a sultry smile smears across your glossed lips.

Fuck, he has no idea there is a side to you where he gets undoubtedly turned on by. Flashes of images of you being fucked relentlessly by him appear in his mind as he fantasises, and how he can already imagine your insatiable taste probably won’t satisfy him unless he has you locked in his possession.

Without thinking twice, he places both hands on your waist from behind, his fingers tingling with the sensation of your warmth. Instead of feeling alarmed, you remain relaxed and loose, dancing along to the supposedly stranger behind you.

You allow him to pull you closer until your buttcheek hits his hardness, causing your breath to hitch in your throat, yet you don’t stop dancing. You accidentally grind yourself against him, eliciting a low groan from him with his hot breath fanning the shell of your earlobe while his strong arms snake around your waist.

In your delirium, you tilt your head up and lean on his shoulder lazily, allowing him to guide your movements. His strong cologne is intoxicating as it infiltrates your senses. You hear his low, ragged breaths next to your ear before you feel him dipping his head to the curve of your neck, his nose burying in your skin as he inhales your sweet scent that he has engraved in his mind.

A soft gasp leaves your lips when you feel his warm lips touch your skin before he proceeds to kiss your neck sensually. You should be pushing this stranger away, but instead, you allow yourself to fall weak and succumb to the allure of his kisses on your neck. You blame it entirely on the alcohol.

“You taste exquisite, love.” You hear him murmur those words, or you assume he murmurs those words, since the music is overpowering. But you swear you recognise his voice. You feel his arms tighten around you, while the way he nips at your skin startles you.

In a blink of an eye, he spins you around, his hands remaining on your waist. The entire place is dim, but the LED red and purple lights allow you to catch a glimpse of his face. Recognition glimmers in your eyes.

“Jake.” You utter his name in a daze while your eyes begin to shamelessly scan his overall fit. You hate to admit it, but he nearly got you foaming in the mouth.

He looks extremely good in all denims with his chain necklace hooked around his neck, and his long raven strands have been styled impeccably, tempting you to run your fingers through them. Your eyes catch a sight of an inked tattoo on his collarbone area peeking due to his loose white tee that hangs a little low.

You don’t make any protests as you remain numb in his possession. Everything feels muddled in your mind, but you are conscious enough to continue dancing with him with a hint of sensualness.

Jake unfurls a soft smirk on his pink plump lips while he blatantly checks you out, appreciation and lust dancing in his handsome gaze. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Y/N.”

“Yeah? Surprised?” You feel oddly breathless, and you have no idea whether it’s from the dancing or the palpable tension between the two of you.

Jake hums attractively, his fingers tapping sensually on your waist to the beat of the ongoing music, and when you finally notice his gaze that settles on your cleavage, heat weaves across your cheeks.

“A lovely surprise at that.” Jake says in a murmur, dipping his head and leaning towards you while your pulses go erratic in anticipation, but he stops right next to your ear. The tip of his nose grazes lightly on your earlobe, sending you involuntary shivers down your spine. “But you shouldn’t have come here.” As he whispers lowly in your ear, you detect a hint of darkness in his tone.

“Why? Because I’m an uninvited guest?” You ask breathlessly, hating and loving how his intoxicating cologne tempts you to bury your nose into his chest.

Your breath hitches in your throat when he presses a deep, sensual kiss on your cheek before withdrawing from you to get a good look at your face. Upon seeing how dazed you truly look, he smirks once more and squeezes his hands on the flesh of your hips. “Cute.” He mumbles. His eyes flicker down to your glossed lips, which entice him to kiss you, but he holds himself back.

“You should leave while you still can, love.” He mutters, reluctantly releasing you from his possession and already yearning for your warmth.

“Y/N!” You hear voices that belong to your best friends calling for you from behind. You look over your shoulder just in time to catch glimpses of their faces amongst the dancing crowd.

When you turn back, Jake is nowhere in your line of sight, bringing a confused frown to your lips. Even as he has mysteriously disappeared, your skin remains tingling with the sensation of his lips and hands. Your mind is in a muddle, infused with the intoxication of the alcohol and his strong cologne that you will definitely remember.

“We’ve been trying to search for you everywhere!” Wonyoung exclaims, giving you no time to process when she lunges for a tight hug. She releases a relief sigh before pulling away and examining you. “Thank God you’re okay. But why are you not wearing your mask?” She asks, looking alarmed.

“I throw it elsewhere. I don’t know.” You mutter, blinking your eyes as you feel lightheaded. “Don’t worry. I’m not afraid of being recognised. They’re all preoccupied with partying and dancing anyway.” You provide some assurance to Wonyoung, while Karina and Yunjin seem relaxed.

“Let’s go. We can’t miss the second rave.” Karina tugs at your wrist, dragging you with her gingerly and guiding you through the crowd.

“Rave?” You ponder out loud, and your eyes dart between Yunjin and Wonyoung.

In response, Yunjin gives you a Cheshire smile. “Trust me. You are going to love it.”

“By the way, who were you dancing with?” Karina inquires as she busily guides you to a place, which you presume to be the backyard, while there are other guests along with your group heading to the same place.

“No one.” You answer curtly, giving her a tight smile. “I had fun dancing alone.”

You know better than to inform your friends that you were dancing intimately with Jake Sim, or else you’ll receive an earful from them, considering they detest the knight members. They even reminded you to stay away from any of the knight members, particularly the four leaders.

As soon as the thought of the four devil’s knights’ leaders comes to your mind, your eyes widen in dreadful realisation while your heart nearly lurches in your chest. Since you were too busy getting caught up in the heat of the moment, you failed to realise that Jake is one of the leaders, the one who had you in his possession with a scintilla of danger emanating from him.

The rowdy commotion from the partygoers sounds faint with each step he takes towards the meeting room on the second floor. Jake, who was previously in denims, has changed into practical attire for the upcoming section of the main event. He busily zips up his black bomber jacket while his face remains devoid of emotion, but his mind occasionally drifts off to you.

How tempted he was to snatch you away from the scenery and bring you to one of the rooms with the intention of giving you the best fuck of your life as well as leaving you with his marks on your porcelain skin. He quickly shakes away the thought of you, not wanting to get hard again, as it’ll only be a bother since he is already running late for the briefing.

Stopping in front of the door that is made out of steel, he punches the code onto the padlock keys before the door automatically opens. The familiar sight of a fairly lengthy corridor with separate entrances arrayed on each side of the walls greets him as he steps inside. Hearing the door behind him close with a thud, he begins to make his way to the meeting room, where multitudes of voices are teeming in the cold atmosphere as it gets louder.

Without announcing his arrival, he saunters into the massive meeting room with his hands tucked inside his pockets while his face remains neutral, ignoring the rest of the knight members of the lower rank as they are settled in their respective houses.

The devil’s knights fraternity consists of four houses─ North, South, East, and West.

Each house has its own respective leader. However, their goals are aligned. This has always been the system, as each year there are numerous new recruits, and they do have to dominate their respective territories on campus and even on the streets in town. Almost everyone is knowledgeable about and conscious of the renowned devil's knights. Crestview Meadows University favours the devil's knights fervently, especially considering the fraternity was founded many years ago by four particular individuals who are now affluent figures.

“There he is. The star of the night.” A snarky remark is made by one of the leaders, also known as Park Sunghoon. Jake’s gaze lands on him as he continues to saunter forward until he reaches the table where the other leaders are gathered as well.

“Spare me your sarcasm, Hoon.” Jake says in a monotone, throwing himself onto the swivel chair and making himself comfortable.

“You’re late.” Sunghoon shoots him a scowl as he is seated on the table. The table itself is scattered with a variety of knives.

“He was probably fucking around with the freshies. Can’t even keep up his pants for a minute.” This time, another voice makes a remark, prompting Jake to look at his fellow leader slash best friend. Jay Park.

Jake narrows his eyes at Jay’s smirk. “You’re lucky I'm in the mood to play nice.”

“Enough.” A firm voice is resonating enough for the other knight members in the room to quieten the volume of their chatter. Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon shift their attention to the figure seated by the window sill with his arms crossed over his chest, also known as Lee Heeseung.

Heeseung remains unmoving, but his gaze alone is enough to assert dominance over them, especially since he is the oldest out of the four of them by one year. “Now that everyone is here, we may begin our briefing. For those of you who were on bouncers’ duties, how many uninvited attendees were there?”

All of the knight members would usually gather in this meeting room for briefings and other important matters pertaining to the annual devil’s night planning, et cetera. However, there are some rooms that are restricted to them unless they are the leaders. Furthermore, this very palace is officially owned by the four devil’s knight leaders, considering that their fathers were the founders of the devil’s knights. As a matter of fact, this palace was previously owned by the same founders, but as many years passed and their sons followed in their footsteps in joining the renowned fraternity, the founders collectively agreed to bequeath the palace to their sons.

North: Jake

South: Heeseung

East: Sunghoon

West: Jay

These four delinquents have successfully led their respective houses for the past years with their skills, and they were impressively the youngest leaders to have been appointed when they were just freshmen. Though they have different personalities, they get along well, considering that their fathers are best friends as well.

“Approximately twenty.” One of the low-ranking members takes the initiative to answer, a sophomore, and he is from the West House.

However, his answer raises an eyebrow from his leader. The sophomore flinches at the way Jay directs his sharp gaze, which is penetrating enough. “Approximately?” Jay’s cold voice affects everyone except the other leaders.

“He meant to say that there are twenty-three uninvited attendees!” Another sophomore from the West House steps in to assist the other sophomore, who is shaking in his boots.

Before anyone can speak up, one of the windows swings open, allowing the gust of wind to enter. The four leaders watch, completely unfazed, as a familiar figure wholly in black, layered clothing emerges, climbing into the meeting room, followed by two figures.

The three of them stand tall in their line of sight as they remove their designated masks, now revealing their faces. Jake is the first person to greet the three of them with a lopsided grin. They are Devil’s Knights’ honorary members who are juniors and appointed to be leaders next year once the four current leaders graduate from university. Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki.

“The kid’s right.” Sunoo says, placing his mask down on the table. “There are a total of twenty-three uninvited attendees.”

“That’s a long list of people to hunt down compared to last year’s.” Riki’s deep voice echoes in the room, while his tall figure is intimidating enough for the other lower-ranking members.

“The more, the merrier.” A Cheshire grin smears across Jungwon’s lips while a familiar bloodlust gleamers in his eyes. “Oh, we’ve already covered all the perimeters. Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Felix, and Jeongin are on standby.”

“Good.” Heeseung nods his head firmly, feeling satisfied with how competent their future leaders are. Heeseung’s eyes glide across the fraternity present in the room. “All of you know what to do. Remember to only hunt down whoever’s name you were given, and most importantly, Namgil and his crew will meet their demise tonight.”

“Ah, Kim Namgil.” Sunghoon smirks, a wicked intent can be seen glinting in his eyes at the mention of the ex-member. “I can’t wait to crush that fucker’s skull.”

Jay scoffs out a deadly chuckle, his veins are brimming with vengeance. “Not until I get to him first.”

“Patience. We’ll be sticking strictly to the plan.” Heeseung tells them sternly before looking back at the rest of the fraternity. “Remember that our goal is to wreak havoc and terror, including mayhem. For those of you who are new recruits and this is your first Devil’s Night, you do not need to worry about the law enforcement, as they’ll only be here with the sole purpose of establishing the roadblocks to prevent our guests from escaping until Devil’s Night is over.”

To add on, Devil’s Night is a tradition that has been going on since their founders’ times and happens every Halloween. This tradition is also supported and endorsed by the mayor of Seoul and other influential figures that are highly regarded in the eyes of the government. There is no denying that by permitting Devil’s Night to be lawful on every Halloween, it proves that the government and its system have long since been corrupted.

“In short, you may also do what you please for the next twelve hours.” Jake grins deviously with his hands clasped together. “In other words, unleash your inner devils.”

At once, an uproar emanates from the fraternity before Jay begins to dismiss them. “Don’t forget your masks and weapons!” He reminds them as they proceed to make their way out of the meeting room rowdily, leaving the four leaders and the future three leaders alone in the room.

“There is another important thing you guys should know.” Sunoo speaks up, drawing their attention. Interest sparkles in Sunoo’s eyes. “Y/N is one of the uninvited attendees.”

“Y/N?” Sunghoon scoffs out in disbelief, refusing to take Sunoo’s words seriously. “You should really work on your humour if you plan to impress us.”

“Do I look like I’m laughing?” Sunoo deadpans before he motions to Riki and Jungwon. “Ask them if you still refuse to believe me. They saw her at the second rave.”

“Yup.” Jungwon toys around with one of the knives in his grasp leisurely while a smirk paints his canvas. “She looks pretty, though. It’s a shame to lose a pretty face like hers.”

“Her name is not in any of the lists.” Riki points out. “So who shall be hunting her?”

“Can I?” Sunoo asks with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “I’ve always wanted to scare her.”

“No.” Jake takes everyone by surprise as he nearly growls out. His eyes darkened at the thought of you. “No one touches her. No one except me.”

“Since when did you get to decide on this alone?” Jay raises a single eyebrow at his best friend. “To make it more interesting and thrilling, I say the four of us hunt her down.”

“And kill her afterwards?” Sunghoon’s face twists in a grimace. “Don’t get me wrong. It won’t affect me if we kill her, but I don’t want those pesky friends of hers to hunt my ass down.”

“What about you, Heeseung?” Jay asks as all heads turn to the silent male, who appears in deep thought. “How are we going to decide on what to do with Y/N? Rules are still rules. Uninvited attendees shall not make it out alive on Devil’s Night.”

“We hunt her down as well.” Heeseung states calmly. “But don’t kill her yet. We’ll decide what to do with her once we hunt her down.”

“Then we’ll make our way to our respective posts.” Jungwon offers the four leaders a salute before wearing his mask and making his way to the opened window, where he expertly jumps over while Sunoo and Riki follow suit.

“We have like thirty minutes left until the last segment.” Jay notes, staring down at his wristwatch before his gaze returns to the three of them. “I don’t know about you guys, but I, for one, am intrigued to see for myself if what Jungwon said was true about Y/N looking pretty.”

“She was.” Jake utters, his lips curving into a grin, while he recalls the gorgeous sight of you. “I was with her earlier.”

“How?” Sunghoon asks incredulously.

“She willingly danced with me. Oh, and she seemed rather tipsy, so it makes the hunt a whole lot fun.” Jake chuckles breathily.

“What did she dress up as?” Heeseung finds himself asking this, feeling almost compelled and intrigued to know about the theme you chose.

“An angel.” Jake is certain of his answer, and no, not because of the way you dressed, but because you are indeed an angel who is unfortunate enough to have stepped into their territory without knowing the consequences of your actions.

“How fitting.” Heeseung’s lips turn into a subtle smirk. “Well, gents, it looks like we have ourselves an angel to hunt down.”

You can definitely understand the rationale of those who have been to this event for the past few years and those who are invited behind their hype for Devil’s Night. The activities the knight members hosted are so diverse that no one can simply miss out on anything. Well, you did miss out on the famous cliché game of truth or dare, not that it bothered you.

Presently, you and your group of friends, including Winter, Kazuha, and the others, are making your way back to the backyard once more after getting some refreshments earlier when the second rave ends. Now all of you have decided to attend and participate in the third rave. The last rave of the night.

The B-stage at the backyard is bigger than the one inside the palace at the supposedly club room, and the crowd is tenfold compared to the previous rave, which enlivened the night even more while the ambience in the air is vibrantly teeming with the LED pink and purple lights flashing across the sea of crowds and into the skies. The bass-boosted music of ‘Tonight’ by Big Bang that the DJ is playing reverberates throughout the expanse of the palace and even further.

“Look at Y/N! Babygirl got moves!” Giselle’s remarks draw attention from your other friends to you, watching you in an effervescent element, which is undoubtedly a rare sight for you.

“I’m glad she’s having fun!” Kazuha exclaims cheerily, smiling widely at the sight of you giggling and dancing in your own world with Chaewon and Liz.

Wonyoung, who opts to take a short break from the dancing, watches you with a softened gaze while her hand is holding a red cup of vodka. Is she still worried for you? Yes, but right now, she is glad to see you having genuine fun.

“She needed this.” Yunjin speaks beside Wonyoung as she watches you as well. "Now, are you glad that we dragged her here?”

“Perhaps.” Wonyoung says. “As long as nothing happens to Y/N or any of us.” Yunjin nods in agreement.

“Okay! I need a break!” Chaewon laughs out, halting her movements, but you pout your lips at her, to which she giggles and pecks your cheek. “Sorry, babe, but you’re on your own now.”

Chaewon makes her way out of the crowd, excusing herself to head to the bathroom while your other friends immerse themselves in the music and separate themselves from you. Eventually, you blend into the crowd, causing Wonyoung and Yunjin to lose sight of you.

The thought of other sweaty bodies coming into contact with yours doesn’t bother you in the slightest. There is a wild glint in your eyes as you dance with a random couple, giggling and succumbing to the exhilaration brimming in your veins.

Unbeknownst to you, you accidentally bump into someone from behind, but just as you are about to apologise to the person, firm hands grip your waist as he pulls you back to him, allowing your back to hit his solid chest.

“Nice moves you got there.” His hot breath fans the shell of your earlobe, reminding you of Jake earlier, but this time, this person’s touch has a hint of roughness, whereas there was gentleness in Jake’s. “Why did you stop, baby?” He hums seductively.

“Jay.” You breathe out, going completely still. His hands remain on your waist, sending you goosebumps with the sensation of his warmth.

“Angel baby.” He lulls beside your ear before you feel him dipping his head down to press a sensual kiss on your shoulder blade. “Come on. Show me your moves.” It is a command.

Despite the trepidation coursing through your veins at the fact that one of the devil’s knights's leaders has you in his possession, you know better than to refuse him. So you begin to sway your body before you gradually pick up the rhythm.

Eventually, you lower your guard around him and dance willingly with him, occasionally grinding your body against his, to which he groans lowly at the sensation of your ass in contact with his dick.

A giggle leaves your lips upon feeling his breath tickling your skin when he buries his head into the curve of your neck. Instinctively, your hand ascends to brush your fingers through his soft raven locks while the two of you continue to sway in sync to the music.

“If I had known you were this fun, I would’ve brought you out with me to a nightclub sooner.” Jay murmurs near your ear before he places a sensual kiss on your pulse.

“You can’t kiss me whenever you want, you know?” You giggle once more, enjoying the way his strong arms are hugging your waist from behind. Perhaps the remnants of the alcohol persist in your system, but you have never been this playful and flirtatious around guys.

“Oh, but I can. I can do whatever the fuck I want with you.” Jay rasps against your skin on the cheek. You feel his fingers stroking your stomach in a sensual manner before they make their ascent to your chest. “Besides, you’re in our territory, angel baby.”

You gasp while your heart lurches in your chest when he gropes your breast, and a low groan leaves his lips next to your ear. Your cheeks flush with warmth at the newfound sensation that pools in your tummy.

“Fuck, baby.” He cusses lowly before pressing another kiss on your neck. “The things I want to do to you right now, but unfortunately, duty calls.”

You frown at the loss of his touch and warmth. “Jay─” But as you turn around, Jay disappears into the crowd, just like Jake did.

“Y/N, for the love of God, do not ever disappear like that again!” Wonyoung’s exclamation can easily be heard over the commotion as you spot her just a few metres away from you.

Your face twists into a grimace at how visible her annoyance and frustration are on her face. Soon, you spot your other friends as well in your vicinity. A part of you desires to find Jay and ask him to elaborate on what he meant by his statement earlier, but you know better than to further involve yourself with him. Just as you step forward, the music dies out, eliciting confusion and anger from the crowd.

“What’s happening?” “Hey, DJ! We weren’t finished raving!” You hear commotions around you, making your head spin lightly.

What happens next throws you completely off guard, and subsequently, you become fully sober miraculously.

The deafening sound of a siren rings through your ears, which is akin to the purge, shattering the night of riotous jollity instantaneously. Despite the perpetual blaring siren, you can discern a dissatisfactory chorus of groans and clamours amongst the crowd. The LED lights begin to dim, but you manage to catch glimpses of your friends' contortions with confusion and percipience.

Before you can open your mouth to speak with the intention to inquire, a stentorian voice that belongs to a female startles you, as it is resounding enough for you to absorb her emphatic words into your mind despite the ongoing siren in the background.

"Announcing the commencement of the annual devil's night sanctioned by the mayor of Seoul. Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorised for use during Devil's Night. All other weapons are restricted. Commencing at the siren, any and all crimes, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Blessed be the four leaders of the devil's knights."

At once, the tumultuous crowd begins to disperse in a haphazard manner, and some can be seen running as though they are being hunted down by unknown sources, or rather, delinquents. Despite the fear in their contortion, you can't help but notice the glimpses of excitement, and an eccentric ambience of thrill pervades in the haunting atmosphere.

Apprehension courses through your veins while your heart beats expeditiously. You swear you can hear your pulse drumming loudly in your ears. In the midst of the ambiguity, your intuition is sending you a message that what may escalate next is not something you expected on a purported Halloween night routine, or rather, assumed.

"Ouch! Hey!" Annoyance bubbles within you upon having been shoved roughly by some people, resulting in you nearly plummeting to the ground if it weren’t for your best friend, who swiftly and steadily supports you as she holds you against her.

"What is going on?" You ask in a demand, with pure confusion reflecting in your eyes. You notice how Yunjin looks oddly collected, but as soon as her gaze runs over you, her eyebrows pull together before a low cuss elicits from her.

"I told you that it was a bad idea to drag her here!" Wonyoung startles you greatly with how she sounds genuinely irate, but when you take a glance at your gorgeous raven-haired best friend, your stomach sinks at the apparent distress written across her delicate features. "We need to get her out of here before any of the knight members get to her, or any of us, for that matter!"

"Winter and Liz are with the others!" Karina informs in haste as she appears next to you, seeming to be running with how apparent she is panting lightly. "We have approximately five minutes to get the hell out of here!"

"It's no use even if we try to escape." Yunjin sighs, running her fingers through her red strands. "They're not letting us out until it's over."

"I don't care." Wonyoung snaps at Yunjin, taking you by surprise when she grabs your wrist tight. "We will find a way to get out of here, even if it means that I have to use violence to fight off the knight members."

"I don't get it!" You raise your voice as you dart your eyes between your best friends. "This was supposed to be a normal Halloween night, but now crimes are acceptable for the next 12 hours?! What sort of─"

The sound of a shotgun pierces through the air, shocking you greatly, and before you can even process anything, you find yourself being dragged by Wonyoung, with Yunjin and Karina following closely in haste.

By the time you have arrived at the parking lot, your eyes widen at the gruesome sight of two masked men displaying violence upon a student who, you presume, attends the same university as you, looking all bloodied with his face completely ruined.

"Come on!" Karina shouts, snapping you out of it before you are being thrust into her car by Wonyoung, who then proceeds to enter the backseat with you while Yunjin is in the shotgun.

As Karina switches the ignition of her vehicle, a shriek leaves your lips as soon as the window next to you shatters into pieces by a golf stick, prompting you to duck your head and move further from the masked man as he attempts to reach out for you, but Karina immediately slams her foot on the pedal gas and speeds off.

A loud gasp escapes from you while your heart is pounding hard against your chest. Wonyoung swiftly engulfs you in her warm embrace, in which you desperately seek comfort, even if it's just for a moment.

"What the fuck?! There are roadblocks everywhere!" Karina exclaims, and you sense a scowl in her tone.

"That's what I've been telling you! We can't escape anywhere until Devil's Night is over." Yunjin says exasperatedly before she looks over her shoulder at you, uncertainty and concern residing in her gaze upon seeing how visibly shaken you are as you cling onto Wonyoung's arms.

"Ah, fuck!" Karina curses once more before steering the wheel expertly, finding other possible solutions. Yunjin shoots her a withering glare, to which Karina retaliates. "Don't give me that look. I have totally forgotten what it was like on Devil's Night."

"Was that why a few students died last year?" You manage to speak through shaky breaths. "Because they were killed on Devil's Night."

Silence befalls your best friends, but as Wonyoung squeezes her arms around you, you know that your presumption is correct. You have finally connected the dots. Initially, you didn’t want to make the assumption that those students who died on Halloween were the same ones who attended Devil’s Night. But as their silence confirms that, your stomach sinks in dread, and you begin to pray silently.

Deciding to distract yourself, you notice some bikers are on the same run as they ride ahead of you, as well as two cars, to which you assume that they are the invited guests.

"We can hide at some place, maybe a building, where there is a high chance that they won't find us." Wonyoung tells Karina, while the latter nods her head and continues to drive with keen eyes.

The vehicle comes to an abrupt halt, sending both you and Wonyoung flying forward. A series of profanities emanate from your best friends.

"Damn it! The wheels got punctured!" Karina groans loudly as she hits her forehead on the steering wheel. "So what's the plan? Either way, we're probably going to get fucked."

"We run, duh." Yunjin pushes the door open, while Wonyoung seems reluctant but heeds her words.

"But we're wearing heels!" Karina's exclamation goes unheard by you as you attempt to catch up to Yunjin and Wonyoung. You wince as you soon begin to feel the aches. Tonight is the wrong night for you to be wearing heels.

You don't even know where you are at this moment, focusing solely on following your best friends from behind, until you hear a familiar voice calling for your group just a few metres away.

"Guys! Over here!" You recognise the guy, who is a junior from the business department. He is fairly famous among the ladies. With the motion of his hand, he is beckoning for your group to enter what looks like an abandoned, massive, three-story building.

"Ricky!" Wonyoung greets him with a friendly yet brief side-hug as soon as she reaches for him. "Are you sure this place is safe?"

"On Devil's Night? Nowhere is safe." Ricky shoots her a lopsided grin before his eyes settle on your face, and instantly, he blinks his eyes in surprise. "Y/N? You're here on Devil's Night?" He asks in dubiety.

In return, you give him an awkward smile. "It's kind of a long story."

"No time to explain. Thanks for helping us out, by the way." Yunjin pats his shoulder firmly before brushing past you.

"Come on." Ricky pulls you in and proceeds to close the fairly huge door with a loud thud.

A gust of wind hits your skin, sending you involuntary shivers as your arms latch around your body in an attempt to warm yourself while your eyes scan the interior of the building with no lights in sight. The only source of light is the moonlight, which streams through the broken window glasses.

You hear hushed yet noticeable voices belonging to unfamiliar and familiar people that go scattering across the floor. You keep wandering around, getting immersed in how hauntingly beautiful the interior building is, as though the previous owners were the royalties.

As you look away from the broken chandeliers above you, you notice that you are in a foyer with a massive flight of stairs in sight. That is also when you realise that you have gone astray from your best friends.

"Wonyoung?" You call out for her, your voice echoing throughout the dark, and your eyes have adapted to the setting. "Yunjin? Karina? Ricky?"

Your body jolts when you hear a piercing scream that belongs to Karina, although she sounds as though she is somewhere on the second floor. Your eyes widen in mortification at the thought of your best friend being gravely injured before you proceed to take hurried steps forward.

Just when your foot steps on a stair, a dark figure standing way above the second floor captures your attention. As you look up, your heart nearly lurches in your chest upon seeing the person with the physique of a man looming over you. He is wearing a black bomber jacket with the hoodie covering his head, and his red mask obscures his identity. His head is tilted to one side, and you would have found it cute if it weren’t for the fact that he is holding a literal metal baseball bat in his grasp.

At the moment he makes his first descent, you begin to make your retreat by undoing whatever you're about to do. You hear a breathy chuckle elicited from the red-masked man that you swear sounds familiar.

Your stomach churns with uneasiness as you continue to back away from him cautiously. Oddly, his movement seems deliberately slow, as though he is taking his time trying to scare you. Releasing a shaky breath, you turn around with the intention to run, but you bump into a solid chest.

Before you can fall, gloved hands latch on your waist, steadying you. As you slowly look up, colours drain from your face at the closed-up look of a designated black mask that he is wearing, and you have no idea who he is. He is also wearing similar attire as his fellow comrade.

"Look at what we have here." His voice sounds oddly deep, as though he is using some sort of advanced technology to conceal his real voice. Despite him wearing a mask, you swear you can feel his gaze raking all over you. "We're giving you ten seconds to run far, angel. Starting now."

Of course, you know better than to delay. So you run, ignoring the touch of his gloved hands on your skin that remains lingering. Your heels and thighs are hurting from all the running. Your chest is hurting with the way your heart pounds hard. Trepidation courses through you. You fear what is to happen next, and you hope to live to see the next sunrise.

It appears that luck is not on your side tonight, as you find yourself falling to the ground. Pain shoots up in your ankle, but thankfully, it is bearable. With a wince, you slowly lift your head up with your hair dishevelled, and when you do, you feel as though your heart drops to the pit of your stomach.

Fear resides in your gaze as you stare up at the figure looming over your fallen figure, his boots directly in front of your face. His head is tilted to one side as he stares down at you, and his face is obscured with a white mask that has a vertical red stripe on one side.

Your mind is screaming at you to run from him, but it is as though you have been rendered immobile, your body paralysed with petrification. Tears well up in your eyes as he bends down on one knee and uses his melee knife to slide under your chin, tilting your head up.

"Please don't kill me." You hold back a sob, attempting to stay strong, but a traitorous tear betrays you as it slides down your cheek.

"You should’ve thought about it twice when you decided to show up in the first place, sweetheart." His voice sounds akin to that of the previous masked man, but you can detect a gentleness in it. For a moment, he reminds you of a certain individual who has been your academic rival for the past few years.

In a blink of an eye, you gasp as he hauls you up with a strong grip and slams you against the wall without any thoughts of gentleness. Your heart continues to pound against your chest as he pins both your wrists above your head tightly while his other is occupied with his melee knife, the tip sliding down your cheek, but not enough to leave any traces of scars.

"Were you supposed to dress up as an angel?" He asks while leisurely trailing the tip of his melee knife against your throat and descending to the expanse of your chest, where your cleavage is enticing to him. "Yeah, you were. But a slutty angel at that."

The degradation in his soft tone throws you off guard. Before you can speak, he renders you speechless when he leans down to press his lips against yours, and you would have considered this your first kiss if it weren’t for the barrier of his mask.

Karina’s piercing scream shatters whatever trance you are in, prompting you to turn your head sideways where her screams are echoed. “Karina.” You utter her name worriedly before looking back at the mysterious masked man whom you will call White. “Please don’t let them hurt Karina or any of my friends.” You implore him rather meekly.

White chuckles, though you can easily detect his mockery. “You are so fucking adorable, sweetheart. Thinking that you can order me around just like that.” He leans away from you and releases you.

Just when you think you can make your escape, he proves you wrong when he grabs your arm firmly, pulling you to flush against his body warmth. “You’re not going anywhere until we’re done with what we need to do.”

“We?” You blurt out just as he drags you with him. It isn’t long until the previous masked men you saw greet you in your line of sight as they laze around by the foyer.

Their heads snap at you, and despite wearing those masks, you swear you can feel the intensity of their gaze on your figure. You decide to call them by the colour of their masks.

“Are we seriously bringing her with us?” Black asks, his tone tinged with annoyance. “She will only be a hindrance to our mission.”

This time, you decide to intervene. “Not to worry! I can just leave you guys to your mission while I see myself out.” You crack a nervous smile before attempting to run past White, but what happens next greatly shocks you.

With ease, White has thrown you over his shoulder, carrying you with his hand holding onto the back of your waist for security. White simply ignores your pathetic attempt to protest as he gives Black and Red a firm head nod before they proceed to make their ascent to the flight of stairs.

You continue to wiggle in his firm grip, and you are conscious of the fact that your weight might bother him, especially the weight in your thighs, as they are slightly thicker than your best friends’.

“Stop moving!” White grunts, getting annoyed at your antics. In an attempt to silence you, a slap echoes throughout while you feel a stinging pain on your buttcheek before your cheeks go flushed at the realisation that he has just smacked your ass without any hesitation whatsoever.

“Jungwon, Riki, what’s the status?” Your ears perk up at the familiar names, whom you recognise as the renowned juniors that are closer to the four devil's knights leaders compared to any frat member.

“Everything is ready. Just say the word, and we’ll blow the building up.” You hear Jungwon’s voice coming from someone’s phone, and you frown at his statement.

“Felix just informed me that Namgil and his crew took the bait and had just entered the building.” Red speaks to White and Black, whereas your stomach is starting to hurt from how sharp White’s shoulder blade is.

You poke at White’s back, earning his attention. “My stomach hurts. Can you let me down? I promise I won’t run away.”

Silence is all you receive from White, which disheartens you. So you close your eyes and try your utmost to withstand the pain while holding back whimpers. Just then, you feel yourself being settled down on a soft cushion before you open your eyes to see yourself seated on a worn-out couch.

You are about to thank White, who is looming over your figure, but you are rendered speechless when he ties your wrists together with a black cable tie.

“What are you doing?!” You raise your voice, the disbelief is evident in your tone. “You didn’t have to tie me! I gave you my word that I wouldn’t run away!”

“Just to be safe.” White tells you before taking a step back. “Stay put, sweetheart. We’ll be right back for you.”

With that, White, Red, and Black make their departure, leaving you alone in this dark room with the only source of light coming from the window, moonlight streaking in, and the faint screams of terror emanating from the outside tainting the night.

You did attempt calling for help or even your best friends, but to no avail. Your throat is starting to hurt, and you are in dire need of water to quench your thirst. To make matters worse, your ankle looks slightly swollen from falling earlier.

You refuse to obey White’s instructions, so you decide to venture out of the room, trying to find the way out. With each step you take, you limp slightly, wincing every now and then due to your throbbing ankle. You definitely need medical attention before it gets worse.

After what feels like forever, you finally manage to descend to the first floor in the foyer as you hold onto the railing. You heave a sigh, and a glimmer of hope shines in your eye at the thought of escaping from this place, from the three masked men.

But you should know better than to hope, especially when you have broken the rules that are expected of you as God’s blessed child.

Dread fills you when a group of five mask men are in your line of sight. However, these mask men look entirely different compared to the devil’s knights. They are wearing red bomber jackets instead of black.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” One of them, whom you presume is the leader, steps forward as he cackles wickedly. “Y/N. I never thought I’d see a day where the good girl dressed up like a slut.”

You recognise that voice. Kim Namgil. Apparently, he broke some sort of rule or whatever that got him dismissed from the fraternity club. You have heard that he was the worst of the worst of them.

Of course, desperate times call for desperate measures. So, with your slightly swollen ankle, you turn around with the intention to run away from them, and you are almost successful when you feel a painful impact on your back from getting hit by a wooden baseball bat, resulting in you falling to the ground on your knees. You don’t even have the time to attempt to defend yourself despite your wrists that are tied together when he flips you around and pins you to the ground with his fingers curled around your neck in a firm, threatening manner.

“I’ve always wondered what it feels like to fuck you and break you.” Namgil snarls coldly in your face behind his black mask. “After I’m done with you, I’ll let my crew have their turn in destroying your cunt, and then right after, I’ll tear your limbs one by one.”

The fear coursing through your veins is so intense, while tears spring from your eyes. But you remain resilient, still fighting and struggling in his firm grip. Raising your leg, you knee him hard in the sack, eliciting a pissed-off snarl from him.

Your head is turned sideways at the impact of his slap, and your tongue tastes the metallicity of your blood from the cut at the corner of your lips due to his ring. This time, you don’t hold back your sob, weeping helplessly underneath him, yet you keep praying to God that you will be saved.

“Namgil, I don’t think we have time to mess around with her.” One of his crew members tells him with a sense of urgency.

“Just a quick fuck.” Namgil tells him as he squeezes your throat tight, causing black dots to appear in your vision before he slaps your face again, and this time, your head starts to throb painfully.

“Damn, she looks like a fucking slut.” You hear one of them make derogatory remarks with chuckles. “Faster, Namgil. I can’t wait to fuck her pussy.”

At the moment you hear a zipper, more tears spill from your closed eyes as you give up hope and await the pain. But nothing happens next. Instead, you hear a commotion involving punches being thrown and a series of groans and cusses.

You no longer feel the weight of Namgil on top of you, as someone has pulled him away from you. You flutter your heavy eyelids open, and the gruesome sight of Kim Namgil being beaten to pulp by Red greets you just across from you.

“You fucking dared to touch her?!” Red growls out as he grasps his metal baseball bat and is tainted with Namgil’s blood. “You deserve to die a slow, painful death, Namgil.”

You look away with a wince as soon as Red brings down his metal baseball bat to Namgil’s ruined and bloodied face once more, diverting your attention to White, who plunges his knife into one of Namgil’s crew members, to which you gasp, startled upon witnessing the knight members displaying true violence in real time.

You hear a painful scream of a man before the sound of bones cracking makes you go flinching, but you find yourself looking at where the source of the sound comes from, staring at Black, who has broken the limbs of the one whom you recognised as the guy who made the last remark when he slutshamed you.

Then you see a new masked man, and you call him Silver, making his way over to Red, who is evidently berserk and is stopped by Silver. Red seems to breathe heavily and steps away from Namgil before he turns his head to you, but you are busy watching Silver, who appears to be saying something to Namgil tauntingly before the sound of bones crushing pierce through the air.

Upon having to witness such gruesome sights with blood splattering everywhere, tears are continuously streaming down your cheeks, but you have no strength to sob out. Fear and trepidation spread throughout your chest at the thought of you being their next victim.

You flinch as footsteps approach you while you remain on the floor, having no strength after being assaulted by Namgil and his crew. You hear low murmurs around you while your mind is in a haze.

You can barely comprehend anything when you feel someone cutting the cable tie that binds your wrists. A pair of strong arms lifts you and carries you with ease, prompting you to flutter your eyes open to see yourself in Silver’s arms.

“Jungwon, blow the building up.” You hear Black speak as soon as the five of you step out of the abandoned building.

“Wait.” You mumble groggily, wincing as your head throbs once more. “My best friends, they’re still inside─”

“The only ones who are inside are the dead bodies.” Silver says above you, his deep voice is akin to the other masked men’s, surprising you. “Your friends are still alive and have been brought to another place.”

You don’t say anything, too shocked to form coherent sentences upon witnessing the building blow up with a booming sound. You watch as the building is engulfed by the roaring, ferocious flames while the masked men continue to advance forward without a care for the burning building behind them.

A black van pulls over by the curb before the door slides open, revealing the familiar faces of your juniors. “Get in.” Riki tells them before his dark eyes land on you. His eyebrow is raised at you, but he doesn’t say anything as he scoots to the back when Silver steps forward to place you inside.

“Hey, Y/N.” Sunoo greets you with a grin as he is seated in the shotgun. “Fun times, ey?”

You don’t respond, resorting to silence as the rest climb into the van before the door closes. Jungwon, who is the driver, presses his foot on the pedal gas as he speeds away. You expect the four masked men to reveal their faces, but they don’t.

Silver, who is sitting next to you, turns his body to face you with his head tilted to one side. “Now, what shall we do with you?” He ponders out loud, and his statement sends shivers down your spine.

But you are too numb to make any protest or defend yourself from these masked men, as the gruesome images of blood and the sound of bones crushing that emanate from Namgil and his crew remain reeling in your mind. Despite the fact that you’ve always had complete distaste for Namgil, you know that he didn’t deserve to die.

The moment gloved fingers caress your cheek, you flinch away from Black, who is seated next to you. “Since the second part of the hunt is starting soon, why don’t we let angel here join the others instead?” He suggests to his fellow comrades.

You release a shaky breath as you stare at Black with visible fear and curiosity. “Second part of the hunt? You mean to tell me that earlier was just the first part?” Your tone is laced with disbelief.

“That’s right. The first hunt was to hunt and kill the victims on our list while the others spread horror and terror to those lucky ones who didn’t make it to the list.” This time, Jungwon tells you, meeting your eyes in the rearview mirror fleeting, yet you manage to catch his smirk that has obvious wicked intent.

Perturbation gnaws in your tummy as you lick your dry, quivering lips. “And what does the second hunt entail?” You manage to ask despite the shakiness in your voice.

“You’re about to find out, angel.” Black chuckles with a hint of darkness, and concurrently, the vehicle comes to an abrupt stop, nearly flinging you to the front, but Silver’s quick reflexes manage to prevent you from doing so with his arms shooting out to hold you.

The door automatically opens before Silver makes his exit first, he turns to you and holds his hand out for you, to which you hesitantly accept his assistance before you make your exit as well.

“Y/N!” Your girls, specifically Wonyoung’s voice that overpowers theirs, call for you as soon as the four masked men have brought you to where the other victims are gathered, as well as the other knight members with their masks and similar attire. You shudder upon seeing different types of weapons in their grasp.

All the while, you have been trying your utmost to ignore the throbbing pain in your ankle and walk as normally as you can. The sound of gates rattling closed from behind startles you, prompting you to look over your shoulder to see that the entrance is closed. You scan your surroundings briefly, noticing that they have brought you to a massive labyrinth garden, which appears to have a multitude of mazes that also seem endless. You spot the divine palace in the background, but it looks further away from you.

Once White releases his grip on your arm, you waste no time rushing for your awaiting friends and crash into the first person who has her arms outstretched for you. Your eyes water as you bury your head into her chest, and for once,you are glad that she’s taller than you by five centimetres. Wonyoung’s warmth shrouds your cold, trembling form while you feel relieved to see her and the others again, despite the fact that this comfort you desperately seek and bask in is only temporary.

You silently thank God for keeping your good friends safe and in one piece.

Just then, your eyes widen at the sudden realisation that hits you, prompting you to pull away from Wonyoung. “Karina!” The moment you utter her name, your gaze immediately settles on the familiar catwoman standing in between Winter and Kazuha. As your eyes rake all over her, confusion etches on your canvas. “You’re not hurt? But I thought I heard you scream earlier.”

Karina gives you a sheepish smile. “I got startled when a cobweb of spiders hit my face, and afterwards, one of the knight members scared the fuck out of me, but don’t worry, honey, I’m perfectly fine!” She reassures you once more, and you begin to relax, only for a while before the screeching sound of a speaker pierces in the air, causing all of you to wince.

“Congratulations for making it to this stage.” White speaks into the microphone, garnering everyone’s attention while you briefly look over to the numerous familiar faces of the other students amongst the crowd. “However, Devil’s Night is far from over, and unfortunately, whether you’ll survive this stage or not is all dependent on you.”

White passes the microphone to Silver. “Yes, we’re aware that this is new for those of you who have been to the previous annual Devil’s Nights.” Silver explains. “For this stage, all of you will be given seven minutes to run and find the exit of the labyrinth garden.”

“Seven minutes?!” A guy from your cohort barks out his discontent. “Seven minutes is impossible for us to make our escape! Look at this maze! It’s fucking massive!”

“Too fucking bad.” You hear a smirk in Silver’s tone. “So you better be running for your life once we hit the countdown.”

“And what happens if we don’t make it to the exit in time?” Liz asks loudly, and when you look at her, you frown at the discernible excitement in her eyes. Why is she excited when she should be apprehensive just as you are now?

It’s not just her, but you notice the palpable tension of excitement emanating from some of the victims. It is as if they have been expecting this adventurous thrill that may or may not cost their lives. Your face twists into a slight grimace, finding them odd.

Red snatches the microphone from Silver. “For those of you who successfully manage to find the exit on time, congratulations. You are free to leave and enjoy the rest of Devil’s Night with what we have to offer.” Black pauses before he elicits dark chuckles. “But for those who fail, you’re ours to kill, ours to toy, ours to torture, and ours to fuck once we find you. We’ll do whatever we want for you. So when we tell you to run, you run and don’t ever fucking stop.”

You see Black motioning for the microphone, which Red gives him. “As for our fellow knights, don’t forget to stake your claims if you haven’t. Remember to hunt down only what is yours.” As Black says this, you can feel his gaze behind his mask fixed intently on your face. “The second part of the hunt starts now.”

On his command, everyone, with the exception of the knight members, erupts into squeals and tumultuous commotion as they make their way to the multitude of mazes haphazardly. Wonyoung has already dragged you along with her, shoving her way through the crowd with profanities occasionally leaving her lips while her grip around your wrist tightens.

“This way!” Wonyoung barks over her shoulder to you before tugging you with her into one of the mazes.

“Yunjin! Chaewon! Girls!” You shout to your friends at the other side, who fail to hear your calling as they proceed to enter different mazes, followed by some other victims. You wince when Wonyoung adds more force as she drags you. “Wony! Slow down!”

“Are you crazy?!” Wonyoung raises her voice as she gives you a bewildered glare. “We only have seven minutes, and you’re telling me to slow down!?”

“But my ankle hurts.” You whimper as you finally allow yourself to limp, prompting Wonyoung to halt her steps while panic resides in her gaze.

“How did this happen?!” Wonyoung begins to fuss over you, bending down to touch your swollen ankle before returning her gaze to your face. “Never mind that. How bad does it hurt now?”

“Like an eight? I don’t know.” You grimace, putting more weight on your other perfectly fine ankle. Your eyes dart at your surroundings while you rub your arms in an attempt to provide some warmth due to the cold breeze that hallows as well. “How are we even supposed to find the exit in this massive labyrinth?” You ask, feeling disheartened. You yearn to return to the comfort of your bed and snuggle with your soft toys.

“Can you try to withstand the pain?” Wonyoung asks with a concerned frown, and you nod your head in response. “Okay. We’ll try to brisk-walk and search for the exit. We have about,” She pauses as she glances down at her phone screen. “Four minutes?! Shit!” She grabs your hand and wastes no time walking in haste.

You ignore your ankle, which is throbbing painfully now, as you follow her. Amidst the trepidation, determination sizzles through you, and you have every intention to escape from the knights’ grasps, specifically the four masked men from earlier. Your stomach churns while you have an inkling that they’ll be hunting you down.

Time seems to be passing by slowly as you are starting to feel the exertion dawning on your body from the events that happened since the moment you stepped foot into their territory. Wonyoung, too, looks exhausted as she has finally released your hand, but as always, she remains composed with her head held up high, and determination is like steel in her eyes.

The two of you turn to the right corner, and at once, groans are emitted from both of you. Greeted in your line of sight is a lengthy, narrow maze with different entrances on each side. “I swear we’re going in circles!” Wonyoung scowls indignantly, but nonetheless, she advances forward while you stop to take a breather.

You pant lightly, wiping the sweat above your brow. “Wait, Wony─”

But just as Wonyoung turns around, a figure decked out in familiar attire and a grey mask that obscures his identity emerges from the shadows of the entrance next to Wonyoung, who grabs her with his arm around her waist while the other has her wrists locked firmly.

“Hey! Get the hell away from me!” Wonyoung thrashes in his grasp as he drags her with him. She turns her head to glare at the man in the mask before recognition flickers in her gaze. “Jungwon! Please!”

A gasp leaves your lips at the name that leaves her mouth. You watch as Jungwon continues to drag Wonyoung with him while the latter continues to plead, though you can’t help but discern the softness in her tone towards him.

“Wonyoung!” You cry out for your soul sister as you step forward with the intention of getting her back, afraid of what might happen to her. But the moment you attempt to reach out for her, Jungwon turns to look at you and shakes his head.

“Don’t, Y/N. Unless you want to end up on the wrong side of my knife.” The wicked intent in his voice is resounding, rendering you frozen in your spot. “Luckily for you, you’re not mine to kill.”

“Y/N─'' Jungwon clamps his hand over Wonyoung’s mouth before they eventually disappear from your sight as they enter one of the entrances, leaving you alone and helpless.

Tears are welling in the rims of your eyes, while the trepidation that courses through your veins is starting to feel overwhelming. You sniffle as you quickly wipe away the fallen teardrop on your cheek before you force yourself to advance forward, mustering whatever courage and determination are left within you.

The shrill screams, which belong to different individuals, have been continuously pierced into the cold, foreboding atmosphere once more, startling you as you tighten your arms around your body in an attempt to seek some form of succour.

By now, you are numb to the pain in your swollen ankle and solely focused on surviving this hunt and making it out alive. You turn to a left corner and continue to venture forward until you hear a voice belonging to a familiar person that kindles hope in your chest.

“Yunjin?” You call for her, moving forward while your eyes dart everywhere as you walk past different entrances. You become startled when you spot one of the knights holding a chainsaw chasing after two girls who are screaming in terror before you quickly mind your own business and resume searching for your childhood best friend.

“Yunjin─” You immediately halt your steps as soon as you hear faint moans emitting from your very own childhood best friend. Your face contorts into confusion as you listen to how she is moaning pleasurably while there is a faint slapping sound of skins.

A part of you knows better than to indulge your curiosity, but you find yourself advancing forward once more. As soon as you turn your head, the obscenity sight greets you and renders you completely shocked to the point where your body feels paralysed, unable to move.

There is your childhood best friend on top of a masked man as he is seated on a wooden bench, and their lower regions are completely stripped off of any layer of garments. Her back is facing you as she bounces continuously on him with her hands draped over his shoulders lazily.

As your gaze falls down, that is when you finally notice that Yunjin is indeed fucking down on the masked man. You can see how lewd they are fucking into each other with a series of moans and groans emitting from them. You should feel disgusted, and you should be looking away from the obscenity, but you become enthralled by the sight of his cock disappearing into her pussy each time she bounces.

Oddly, your heart is racing at a foreign pace, and your throat becomes dry the longer you watch them get immersed in the fucking. You stagger a step back, panting lightly while feeling a foreign sensation pooling in your core. The warmth all over your body feels odd, bothering you greatly.

“Fuck, just like that.” The mask man throws his head to the back, holding Yunjin by her ass cheeks to assist her. “You’re doing so well, baby. Keep fucking on me like a desperate whore you are.”

You squeeze your thighs together to suppress the sensation that becomes oddly unbearable in your core. Just as you stagger a step back, your back hits a solid chest, causing your heart to drop.

Before you can run away, an arm slithers around your waist, locking you in place. A tut leaves his lips. “Naughty angel. Having fun watching your best friend fucking him like a whore?” It is Black.

“N-No.” You protest weakly, looking away from the sight, but he uses his gloved hand to grip your jaw and turn your head, forcing you to keep your eyes trained on your best friend.

“Don’t lie to me, baby.” Black speaks next to your ear while your breaths get heavier and your mind is tainted with forbidden thoughts the longer you watch them fuck. “I know you love it. You’re probably wishing that was you.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he gropes the flesh of your breast with earnestness, while his other hand trails downward on your stomach before his fingers go underneath the material of your dress. You gasp inaudibly at the sensation of his fingers teasingly grazing across your clothed pussy, and you swear you can feel some form of essence leaking between your folds.

“N-No.” Your weak protest does nothing to stop Black from his assault on you while you watch with hooded eyelids as your best friend continues to fuck the mask man vigorously while the sounds emanating from them become pornographic.

“Fuck, you’re nearly soaked, angel.” Black nearly growls as his chest vibrates against your back, sending you shivers down your spine.

Light pants leave your lips as your mind is infused with impure thoughts, and your hips buck, as though in an attempt to entice Black, but he continues to tease you by stroking the outer of your womanhood.

The sound of a feminine scream pulls you out of the lustrous trance as you blink your eyes. Mortification hits you like whiplash, while guilt shrouds you. Gritting your teeth, you muster courage before slamming your elbow into his stomach hard, resulting in him releasing you while a painful groan emits from him.

“Y/N!” You hear Black roaring from behind, the sheer anger is palpable in his tone while you run as if your life depends on it, despite your ankle sending you signals that it needs medical attention as soon as possible.

Your brunette waves flail behind you, soaring in the wind as you run while a few strands of your locks stick to your face. Your heart is pounding harder against your chest, and your chest begins to tighten with anxiety at the worst possible outcome.

A scream leaves your lips as soon as two lower-ranking knight members emerge from the bushes with different weapons in their grasp, bringing fright upon you. You run to the opposite side, and when you do, other knight members wreak terror upon you with their weapons, but they don’t do anything to you. It is also as though they are forcing you to go in the intended direction by scaring you relentlessly.

You choke back a sob, tears stinging in your eyes. You wish that this was all just a mere nightmare, but the exertion, the aches, and the pain all over your body say otherwise. You find yourself yearning to return to your beloved parents and the cosy ambience of your home, where you feel safe and loved.

A genuine scream of terror rips from your throat when Silver emerges from a shadow, holding an axe that is dripping with blood. “Where do you think you’re going, princess?” He asks mockingly, stalking towards you.

Tears stream down your cheeks, but you refuse to let out a cry. You back away from him quickly before turning around to run, but you crash into a solid chest and firm hands hold onto your waist, prompting you to look up and stare at Red with panicked eyes.

“Caught you, sweet angel.” You hear him purr with pleasure. You shove him in the chest, pushing him away from you. Facing your two predators, you back away in haste. Pure fear shines in your glistening eyes.

From your peripheral vision, you spot Black emerging from the tall bushes with a dagger in his grasp, and you can immediately discern his wrath, as evident in the way he trudges towards you.

“Stay away from me!” You begin to scream at them, tears are relentlessly streaming down your cheeks. “Leave me alone, you sick bastards!” You ignore the small voice in your mind that is berating you for saying a profanity.

“So the angel can scream.” Silver remarks with a cold chuckle. “Scream all you want, because no one will come to save you.”

Frantically, you grab a small rock at the side as you bend down before you throw it in the direction of Silver, who dodges in time. Silver scoffs out a chuckle. “You’re really starting to get on my nerves, princess.”

You yelp out as you trip over something, resulting in you falling backward with your bum hitting the hard ground. You wince before you attempt to get away from them, crawling backwards as your three predators are nearing.

But at the moment your hand touches a boot behind you, your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach before you force yourself to look up. Alas, White is staring down at you while in his grasp is a white handkerchief.

“You failed, sweetheart.” White says softly.

In an instant, Red hauls you up, forcing you to stand and holding you firmly by the arm. You whimper out a cry as you feel your hands being forced to the back as White has your forearms interlocked with one hand.

“Don’t worry, baby. We won’t be fucking you tonight.” Black chuckles darkly at the side, the anger that emanates from him is evident. “This is something to remember us by when you wake up, and when you do, remember our masks.”

Red grabs your chin, tilting your head up. “We’re not done with you yet, sweet angel.”

You open your mouth to speak, but White covers your mouth and nose with the white cloth, forcing you to inhale the substances that he had sprayed with. You struggle in their grasps with tears leaking from your eyes, but soon, you begin to lose strength while your mind becomes groggy.

Your hooded eyelids feel heavier with each passing second. Alas, you succumb to the darkness as it shrouds your whole being.

“Y/N? Y/N! Wake up!”

It feels as though your soul has been slammed down into your body as you jolt from your deep slumber. Fluttering your eyes open, you are greeted by the familiar sight of your bedroom ceiling before you finally realise that you are back in your dorm. The exertion dawning on your body renders you immobile as you remain in bed.

You feel soft fingers stroking your cheek, prompting you to look at your childhood best friend, whose face has a twist of concern and sympathy. “Babygirl, you’re fine now.”

That is also when you realise the dampness on your cheeks. With Yunjin’s assistance, you raise your body to be vertical and lean on the headboard. You glance down and notice that you are in your Hello Kitty pyjama set.

A relief sigh leaves your lips. So whatever happened last night was just a mere nightmare. Yet, it is a nightmare that you will probably remember for the next few days.

“Is she awake?” Wonyoung’s voice draws your attention to her as she barges into your room. As soon as your eyes meet hers, you notice the sheer relief in her eyes. “Y/N, thank God you’re fine. You’ve been asleep for so long.”

“It wasn’t that long.” Yunjin tells Wonyoung before taking a glance at her phone screen. “Oh, wait. You’re right. Y/N missed breakfast and lunch.”

“What time is it?” You ask, finding it odd that your throat is dry and scratchy.

“It’s four in the afternoon.” Yunjin replies as she gives you a sympathetic smile. “It’s understandable that you woke up this late.”

“I had a nightmare.” You mumble, your fingers tracing circles on your duvet that is covering your outstretched legs. “A really terrifying nightmare. I don’t think I ever want to experience that again.”

As Wonyoung sits on your other side, you immediately latch your arms around your best friends, bringing them into a hug while you sigh in contentment. “I’m glad it was just a nightmare.”

But they don’t reciprocate your hug, which brings a frown to your lips. You pull away from them and notice prudence in their heavenly features. “What?”

“Babygirl, what happened last night wasn’t a nightmare.” Yunjin tells you, her voice sounds quiet.

The relief you feel dissipates and is replaced by apprehension. Your chest feels constricted as fragments of the whole event that transpired last night coalesce into one. The last remark from Red remains vividly clear in your mind.

“It wasn’t?” You ask numbly, looking at Wonyoung for confirmation, and the latter nods her head. Your eyes trail down to her neck, noticing fresh purple and red hickeys on her porcelain skin.

“Hey, the other girls will be coming over─” Karina stops her sentence midway as she saunters into your room, her eyes meeting yours. “Y/N! You’re awake!” She grins at you, oblivious to your disheartened spirit. That is also when you notice bandages on her forehead and hands.

You uncover the duvet from your legs. The familiar throb in your swollen ankle serves as a reality that you did, in fact, attend Devil’s Night on your own accord, and you have no one else to blame but yourself.

“I helped to ice your ankle and apply some ointment.” Wonyoung tells you as she rubs your thigh soothingly. “It should heal in two or three days.”

You remain silent while your eyes turn crestfallen. Your three best friends exchange worried glances.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Yunjin asks gently, and when she touches your shoulder, you visibly flinch, bringing a frown to her lips.

The obscenity of your best friend willingly fucking herself onto one of the knight members is something you can’t erase, and you can’t help but feel sickened and disgusted. You're disgusted at her, and more importantly, you’re disgusted at yourself for bearing forbidden thoughts and for how you acted. You recoil from her touch, scooting slightly away from her before you return to lie on your bed with your back facing her.

“Yeah. I just want to be alone for now. Please.” You croak out pleadingly while tears spring from your eyes as you hug the duvet close to your chest.

“Fine, but don’t miss dinner, okay?” Wonyoung pats your arm gently before she proceeds to depart from your room alongside Karina and Yunjin. All the while, they become confused by your unusual behaviour.

“We’re not done with you yet, sweet angel.”

Red’s words remain lingering in your mind, taunting you and evoking the familiar fear within you while dread crawls onto your skin.

With a faint of heart, you release the sobs you have been holding back, weeping in the comfort of your bed that is surrounded by your soft toys. You will definitely remember your first Devil’s Night, and it will also be your last.

You fear that the events that transpired on Devil’s Night have been engraved in your mind as well as rendering you traumatised, and you have no idea if you will ever recover from them.

You didn’t leave your room for the next few hours. Your eccentric behaviour worried your best friends gravely, and they took turns knocking on your door to get you to come out and have dinner, but you didn’t respond to any of them, causing them to resign and finally leave you alone.

It is not that you hate your best friends, but the fact that they don’t seem to be bothered by whatever happened last night and their normalcy confounds you. At the same time, you can’t help but feel resentful towards them. Knowing that they have been attending Devil's Night since freshmen, how do they still not find any issues in the Halloween event that entail such heinous pursuits?

You love your best friends, you really do, but right now, as you have been reflecting deeply, you wonder if you truly know them.

“Mom.” You greet your mother on the line as you press speaker mode.

“Hey, sweetie. Aren’t you supposed to be asleep at this hour?” Your mother’s kind and gentle voice brings tears to your eyes while you try your best to hold back your sob. You yearn to be in her warm, comforting arms, where you feel undoubtedly safe.

“I slept more than enough earlier.” You force out a laugh, wiping the fallen teardrop from the corner of your eye. “Is Dad there?”

“He’s on a night shift.” Your mother informs you, but you sense a certain tone of knowingness in her tone as she continues to speak. “Tell me, what happened?”

“Nothing. What makes you think that?” You raise your body vertically, sitting on the bed, while one of your soft toys is in your lap as you toy with its arm mindlessly.

“I know my daughter, Y/N. You hardly called me at this hour. Did something happen to my sweetie?”

Alas, the tears brimming in your eyes cascade down your cheeks. “Am I still good, Momma?” Your voice cracks in between, allowing your true emotion to surface.

“Of course you are. You are always good, and goodness is always inside of you.” Your mother remains constant in the way she speaks to you in a soft lull.

“But what if I did something bad?” You say sullenly. “What if I sinned?”

There is a brief silence on the line, and you can’t discern whether your mother is mad at you or not. “Sweetie, there is no denying that you are God’s blessed child, and purity has always been a big part of you, but you are a human just like the rest. You’re bound to make mistakes. So if you have sinned, you should already know what to do next.”

“Are you mad at me?” You ask meekly, swallowing a lump in your throat. You hate disappointing your mother.

“No, I’m not.” Your mother reassures you. “Get some sleep, okay? It isn’t good to stay up too late. I love you, always. Remember that, sweetie.”

“I love you too, Mom.” You reciprocate as your voice comes out shaky before you end the call.

Your gaze settles on the familiar book of the Bible on your nightstand. With your trembling hand, you reach out for the book. Once you have it in your possession, you begin to flip over the pages before your fingers halt at a certain page. At once, you begin to read.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to come with you?” Kazuha asks as soon as you dismount from her Yamaha bike. You proceed to give her the helmet before you adjust your slightly tousled hair, making it neater.

“I’m sure.” You tell her, a tinge of resolution glimmers in your eye despite the guilt that has been churning in your tummy. You give her a smile of gratitude. “Thank you so much. I owe you one.”

“Nonsense. You’re my friend, aren’t you?” The leather-clad girl grins at you. “Call me when you’re done. I’ll fetch you. Besides, we’re long overdue for a date.”

You watch as Kazuha speeds off with the blaring noise from her engine, eliciting a chuckle from you as you know that your dear friend is simply flaunting her sleek black bike.

The smile on your lips flattens as soon as your gaze settles on the divine building. A gust of wind hits your skin, sending you shivers and prompting you to hug your white coat around your figure. It has been quite some time since you visited the church that is situated on the same street as the campus due to the heavy workload given by your professors for the past months that you didn’t even have the time to visit.

You find yourself stepping forward before picking up the pace and entering the building. Thankfully, there are not many people. You offer a polite smile to the sisters walking past you, as they also welcome you with warm smiles.

At once, you feel at ease, and the familiar tranquillity in the ambience feels like a gentle hug, assuring you that despite the sins on your shoulder and the guilt weighing on your conscience, you will be pardoned in the end. After all, you are God’s most loved child.

The priest, who appears to be speaking to one of the members of the church, directs his focus to you, and once he sees your face, a warm smile touches his lips. “It has been awhile, my child.”

You reciprocate his smile despite your nervousness. “School has been keeping me occupied.”

“What brings you here on a Sunday morning?” The priest asks.

You release a shaky breath while regret shines in your eyes and the guilt tightens around your heart. “I have a confession to make.”

His smile falters just slightly. He tips his head in the direction where the familiar booth of the sacrament of penance is, beckoning you to follow him. “Come, child.”

It isn’t long until you have finally reached it, now seated on the chair with your heart pounding against your chest.

“Whenever you are ready.” The priest says to you from the other side.

The events that transpired last night are like a film in your mind as you recall them. A tumultuous mixture of emotions is palpable within you while you attempt to remain collected.

With a shaky breath, you begin your confession, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned……”

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#the devil's knights' prey #enhypen #enhypen hyung line #heeseung #jake #sunghoon #jay #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen poly #reverse harem #halloween #thriller #enhypen smut #enhypen hyung line x reader

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lovethatlaiduslow · 2 years

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the difference bt researching my parents' family history is truly so wild bc my dad was a first generation high school and college/graduate student and his family was entirely farmers from the same three counties in southern redacted state and my mom’s side of the family is from the northeast and emigrated from scotland/ireland/germany and were all well educated and wealthier

#apparently one of my ancestors was a priest at the dutch reformed church in hanover #and another was a lawyer in rutherglen in like 1888. which i did not know! cool

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

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Hiiii I absolutely loved you Max fics I don’t know if you ever would want to do that but if your interested please do a mafia storyline with Max or Mick! ❤️

Little Lion Man || MV1 & CH16

Pairings: dark!Charles Leclerc x fem!reader, Max Verstappen x fem!reader Summary: you find yourself caught in a war between the mafia families that ruled Monaco. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, guns, murder, pregnancy, slight non con/reluctant vibes, forced marriage WC: 3.5k

For a nation so small it was hard to believe that Monaco could be home to not one but three mafia families. There was the Leclerc famile, Verstsppen familie and the Sainz familia. The Leclerc’s had always called Monaco home but the Dutch and Spanish families had made their arrival known in the 90’s, almost burning the city in the war that broke out.

Just over 30 years later, it looked like history was going to repeat itself as the prodigal sons took over the family businesses.

“You are my daughter, if I say you will marry Charles then you will marry him. End of argument.” You would hardly call it an argument when you weren’t even given an opportunity to say your piece but your father left no room for a rebuttal as he slammed the door closed behind him. There was a reason the Sainz’s called him the Peacemaker.

You were a bargaining chip, a pawn in your father’s arsenal to end the war between the Leclerc’s and the Sainz’s before it could spill out into the street and affect everyone’s bottom line. The last thing anyone wanted was to lose their men, their money and their product.

Two weeks later you were shoved into a wedding dress that could have been a film prop for any 80’s rom-com, puffy sleeves and all. It was hideous.

“You are quite beautiful,” Charles said as you reached the dais where the priest waited. “I suppose that will make this easier.”

By ‘this’ you assumed he meant the moment the reception was over and you found yourself stepping into his bedroom, your bedroom too now. Charles had been quiet for most of the evening, indulging in a handful of whiskeys over ice as he mulled over what his life had become, but he found his voice as he tugged his tie off. “On the bed.”

Your fingers tightened around your waist as you hugged yourself, trying to fight back the tears you thought you had finished shedding when you resigned yourself to your fate. “You don’t have to do this, we can come to an arrangement.”

Charles scoffed and continued to unbutton his dress shirt. “This is the arrangement.”

You swallowed as he shucked the shirt over a leather armrest and you saw the dark tattoos that curled over his biceps and down his forearms. A snake moved with his muscles and entwined around a gothic cross. Beneath it, thorny roses with blood drops splattered over the petals decorated the otherwise sun kissed skin.

“I don’t know what my father told you but I-”

“Your father said you would be an obedient wife,” he interrupted as he pointed a ringed finger to the bed. “I’m only as terrible as you make me.”

You took a step back as he stepped closer, his hand lifting to your face. It was reflex to flinch from his touch, knowing the violence his hands were capable of dealing to those who displeased him. You couldn’t help shivering as his cold wedding band touched your cheek and his other arm snaked around your waist, dragging the zip of your dress down your spine.

“What does that even mean?” you whispered. You took a breath and grew the courage to tip your head back and met his uniquely green eyes - the colour brighter than the soul behind them.

He pushed the puffed sleeves from your shoulders until the dress fell to the floor and inhaled at the sight of your body being bared to him. Biting his lip, he stepped back and ran a hand over his shadow of a beard. “Behave yourself, and I will too. Push me, and I’ll push you back harder.”

You felt the colour drain from your face at the threat and he chuckled as he closed the distance between you, forcing your lips apart with a demanding kiss. His palms ran down your spine and over the curve of your ass, pulling you flush against the hard expanse of his body.

“One other thing,” he murmured against your lips. “Disappoint me or my family and, well…it will be the last thing you do, chérie.”

You collapsed into Max’s arms the moment he opened the door, your fingers digging into the straps of muscle along his back as you clung to him like a lifeline. The penthouse apartment was quiet except for the tv playing in the master bedroom and your sobs filled the foyer before he could even close the door.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Max said, despite holding you just as tight. “He probably has Arthur or Lorenzo following you.”

You started to pull back but his arms caged you in his embrace so you settled for talking into his chest. “I know how to lose a tail. I was careful.”

He sighed and rested his cheek on your head, inhaling the floral scent of your shampoo he had missed. “I know, liefje. How long is he gone for?”

You screwed your eyes closed and wished he had never brought Charles up, but you knew Max wanted to know how long he could have with you. “He’s in Nice for a meeting. A few hours at least.”

The hatred for your husband had led you into the arms of Max, his rival and head of the Verstappen familie. The three families would meet each quarter for negotiations and settle disputes, or at least that was what it was meant for, but they just used it as a way to flaunt their wealth and success over each other.

It was after the wedding when you went to your first one that Max had caught your lifeless eyes as you sat beside Charles, decked out in a custom designer dress with diamonds strung around your neck, slowly choking you. He had been struck down by the vision before him and had never wanted something for himself so much in his life. He had been willing to go to war for you and he didn’t even know your name. He had learned it soon enough.

“Do you know who he’s meeting?” Max asked. Even when he wasn’t meaning to he was phishing for information, a reflex he couldn’t seem to stop with a mind as sharp as his.

“Please, mijn leeuw, not tonight,” you whined as you buried your face in his neck. (My lion)

“I’m sorry,” he said with a kiss to your forehead before he tipped your chin back to meet his ice-blue eyes. “What do you need from me, liefje?”

“I need to forget. Please, help me forget.”

Max closed his eyes as rage hardened his features and you knew he was rueing the day he let Charles live. The solution to your problem couldn’t be solved with a bullet and although Max knew that, it was still a bitter pill to swallow. He wanted nothing more than to bathe in Charles’ blood for what he had done to you, but the retaliation would be catastrophic. He had too many people relying on him, friends and family alike.

All Max could give you was a few short hours of his time to show you how he would treat you if the circumstances had been kinder. For a few short hours of stolen time he could erase the touch of Charles from your mind.

Max took your hand, his fingers easing your wedding ring off before placing it on the hall table with your handbag. You relished the freedom that came without the constricting band and flexed your fingers like it had been physically painful to wear the gold jewellery. In a way, it had.

Linking his fingers with yours, Max led the way through the apartment and into the bedroom you found comfort in. This should have been the place you called home, the solace you returned to at the day’s end. It was the one place you felt safe, even though just being here put your life in danger. If Charles ever found out you knew you would be dead, your body left somewhere it would never be found.

“Max…do you believe in God?” you asked in the quiet afterwards. Your arm was curled around his waist, fingers tracing the lion tattoo that covered his rib cage. You could feel the time ticking away with each heartbeat in his chest that you rested your head upon.

“No,” he said honestly, his accent thickening with his amusement. “Do you?”

You looked at the slight change in skin tone where your wedding band usually sat and slipped out of his embrace to find your clothes. “I have to,” you whispered as your throat began to tighten at the thought of returning to the cold mansion Charles owned. “There’s got to be something more than this hell. Maybe one day he will answer my prayers.”

Max could remember the feeling of taking over the family business, how he thought he was invincible - godlike even. Now he felt powerless to the situation. He didn’t like the feeling. He wanted to be the one to answer your prayer.

“One day…” he promised himself aloud, missing the way your spine stiffened at the words. There was no guarantee you would survive long enough for him to keep it.

You stared dumbly at the two pink lines and felt the walls of the bathroom constricting around you. You couldn’t imagine bringing a child into the world you were imprisoned in, it was unfair and deadly. What if the babe had dirty blond hair and ice blue eyes? A new fear sent a shudder down your body and you looked at your stomach, nothing to show - yet.

The door crashed off its hinges as Charles busted it in and you screamed at the surprise, cradling your abdomen on reflex.

“I called you ten fucking times!” Charles growled. His eyes narrowed as they scanned the room before settling on the pregnancy tests lined up. For the first time since you had wed him, Charles looked lost for words, and after a moment his hard stare softened. “We are having a baby?”

You couldn’t remember when he ever addressed anything as ‘we’, it was always you and him - separate, not together. You didn’t know how to react to the instant change in him but you nodded stiffly as he waited for an answer.

A smile grew on his face as he stepped forward and pulled your hands away from your stomach to place his own beneath your camisole. “My son, my heir,” he chuckled, the warmth of his palms almost blistering your skin.

“It might be a girl.” You flinch at the look he gave you and muttered an apology. Just because he was suddenly being gentle didn’t mean he would stay that way, especially if he ever found out the child wasn’t his. Nausea rolled through you and you pushed away to hurdle yourself at the toilet before you emptied your stomach.

It wasn’t morning sickness.

It was a sickness of the heart.

You knew if Max were to believe the child was his then he would have no choice but to go to war, it was a matter of pride and family. On the other hand, Charles would never let the child live if it wasn’t his and despite just learning of its existence, you were willing to do anything to protect it. You needed to tread carefully and that meant no more escaping your guards to see Max. It meant playing the good wife, at least for the next eight months.

You could feel his intense stare from across the table, willing you to meet his eyes. Too many times you felt them drifting up from your husband’s hand clasped on your lap only to snap them back down before you could give in. It would do no good to look at Max. You hadn’t seen him since the night before you took the pregnancy test and you had dreaded going to the quarterly meeting.

There was no hiding the bump in the tight dress Charles had chosen for you. There was no way that Max had missed it when you walked in on your husband’s arm. He had seen it and he had questions.

“I’m going to the ladies room,” you excused yourself after the meal, while the men talked business.

“Arthur will go with you,” Charles said with a nod to his younger brother sitting at his other side. “I don’t trust any of these assholes.”

His hand lingered on the small of your back as you stepped out and you glanced across to see Max’s eyes fixated on that touch. Though you did not welcome the hands of your husband, you no longer feared them the way you used to. Charles was far gentler now that you were, potentially, carrying his heir. It could also be Max’s.

A hand clasped over your mouth and silenced the scream that rose in your throat. “It’s me,” Max whispered, soothing your racing heart.

You looked around the powder room wondering how he had made it past Arthur and saw a narrow cleaner’s entrance left open a crack. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“You never came back, never answered my messages.” The hurt in Max’s voice made your chest ache and your hands dropped to the growing swell of your abdomen. He followed that movement, his chest filling with the deep breath he took and the pearl buttons on his shirt started to strain until he exhaled. “I didn’t believe the rumours.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked, the biting tone wanting detailed explanations like you were one of his men answering for your actions.

Your lips parted, ready to tell him exactly what you were sorry for, before they slammed shut. “I should go.”

He caught your arm as you moved past and he pulled you flush against his body to bury his face in your neck. “Tell me, please. I’ll make it happen, I’ll answer your prayers, I’ll go to war for you - for both of you. Just tell me, is it mine?”

The confession threatened to slip past your lips, the truth that you didn’t know, that he very likely could be. The confession threatened to eat you alive like it had done every time you saw one of Max’s men around Monaco. They always managed to get a message to you, but you never had a response to send.

“No,” you muttered as you pushed him away.

He rocked back on his heels but remained steady as he watched you retreat to the exit. “No, it isn’t mine or no, you won’t tell me?”

Your back hit the door and you blindly reached for the handle, sparing one last look at his shimmering eyes so you could remember them a little longer. “Whatever helps you to sleep at night.”

“Dammit, liefje, just tell me. I need to know.”

You broke away at the endearment that weakened your resolve and your shoulders curled in on themselves. “I can’t tell you, Max, because I don’t know. I. Don’t. Know.” Your voice cracked and the weight of those words fell tenfold on your shoulders as your hand slipped from the doorknob. “I don’t know who the father is, Max. I-I’m sorry.”

His strong arms grappled you into a tight embrace as you broke down in them, your knees giving out as you felt his lips on your forehead, smelt his cologne on his neck. “It’s okay, liefje, I'm going to fix this.”

You pulled back with eyes and blinked away the tears as you placed your hand on your belly. “How? What if it’s not yours?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything,” he promised as he tipped your chin back. “Mine or not, this baby is yours and that’s enough.”

A knock sounded at the door and you panicked as Arthur asked if everything was alright. Your reply was muffled as Max stole a kiss and quietly repeated his promise before disappearing back into the cleaner’s room. Wiping your eyes, you unlocked the door and met your brother-in-law’s narrowed eyes before they searched the room behind you. “You’ve been crying.”

“Pregnancy,” you said with a wave of your hand. “It’s called hormones, Tur. Happens all the time, just ask your brother.”

Max’s chair was still empty when you reached the table but he entered from the main door a few minutes later. The mask he often wore in front of those outside the familie was firmly in place as he unbuttoned his suit with one hand and dropped back into his seat, apologising for taking an important call.

“Your men can't handle one evening on their own?” Charles baited over the rim of his wine glass with an antagonising smile.

Max returned the grin with his own as he slipped his phone into his suit jacket. “You have no idea what my men are capable of.”

You could feel the ripples of those words across the table, the feel of a threat in the air. It not only set Charles on edge but Carlos too - the two sharing a look of concern before facing the Dutchman once more.

Max took a mouthful of his gin and tonic and bit into the lime wedge without reacting to the strong citrus taste. Taking his time, he picked up his napkin and cleaned the drops of juice from his fingers before laying it over his lap as everyone watched closely.

It looked as if he were nervously fiddling with his rings under the napkin and Carlos snickered, relaxing back into his chair until your lion spoke again. “But you will…”

The air stilled for a moment as the napkin drifted to the floor and warmth splattered your cheek. You couldn’t think fast enough to process what had happened or why the wetness on your cheek was red. It could have been minutes but it felt like hours before your brain connected the dots and you saw your husband's body slumped in his chair before you, his green eyes open but unseeing.

Across the table, Max had risen to his feet, the fidgeting revealing a silencer he had been screwing onto his gun. He was cold and precise as he took out Carlos next, his accuracy unmatched. Around the seats he went, faster than they could react as the doors were busted open and his second in command arrived. Danny was ready to die protecting Max’s back while you dropped to the floor and prayed for protection of your own.

“We have to get out of here,” Arthur growled as he caught your ankle and dragged you back where he was kneeling, his white chinos turning red as they absorbed his brother’s blood. “Stay low, protect my nephew.”

“Do you have a gun?” you asked with a shaking voice.

“Of course not,” he spat angrily. No one was meant to have weapons at these meetings and you were assuming Max had retrieved his from the reception area before returning.

“Then you’re fucked.” You kicked your Louboutin into his face and scrambled away as he howled in pain, reaching the edge of the table close to Max.

“Liefje, are you alright?”

“Arthur, under there,” you rushed as you pointed behind you, closing your eyes as he lifted the cloth and the muffled gunshot rang out.

“Not anymore.”

“Time to go,” Danny suggested, reloading his magazine and kicking a few bodies to check they were truly dead.

“Is that it?” You asked, hope filling your voice despite the devastation in the room surrounding you.

Daniel threw his head back and laughed but Max just shook his head and said, “This is just the beginning. We just declared war.”

“But they’re dead.”

“Someone will take over, and when they do - we will need to be ready.” Max reached out and wiped the blood from your cheek. “You’re free of him now, you both are.”

Your breath rattled out of you as you felt the weight lift from your shoulders and as the sirens grew in the distance you managed to smile, the first genuine smile in months. Your prayers had finally been answered. “Thank you, mijn leeuw.”

Five Months Later

Ice blue eyes met yours before a piercing cry erupted and Max’s laugh was one of pure joy. “Mijn zoon,” he cooed softly as he rested his cheek on your head and you watched the midwife gently bring your son to your waiting arms.

Tears blurred your vision at the warm comforting weight of his tiny body lying chest to chest with you. You had never felt anything more precious, never held anything more delicate. He was perfect.

“My little lion man,” you whispered, brushing a kiss over the tufts of dark hair he already had. “We love you so much.”

As if he knew what the words meant, his eyelashes fluttered and he peeked them open to bear twin green irises. He would be an heir. He could unite the families. Or, he could tear it all apart.

Only time would tell.

#max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #f #mafia au #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction

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radiofreederry · 1 year

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To the Salvadoran military the Americans were too good to be true. The Salvadorans quickly figured out that they could do anything, really anything, and the gringos would cover for them. If they raped and murdered US nuns, Secretary of State Alexander Haig would testify that perhaps there had been an "exchange of fire," that perhaps the nuns were armed. When six Jesuit priests were killed in 1989 on a university campus surrounded by the army, Ambassador Walker suggested to the press that they had been killed by guerrillas dressed as soldiers. After each massacre or assassination US officials swore that this time they were serious, the money was going to dry up, that continued funding depended on a full investigation and prosecution for - and here the phrase varied over the years - the killing of Archbishop Romero, the nuns, the Sheraton Hotel murders, the murder of four Dutch TV journalists, the murder of civilians in the village of Las Vueltas, the village of Los Llanitos, the village of Las Hojas, Armenia, [El] Mozote, or San Sebastian, the murder of the Jesuits... Fourteen of the military's fifteen top commanders had, during the course of the war, led troops responsible for illegal executions or disappearances. But by 1990 not a single officer had been convicted of a human rights violation, and the money kept coming. The gringos were bluffing. They were always bluffing.

Tina Rosenberg, Children of Cain

#history #latin america #el salvador #cold war #quotes

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 1 month

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Better Of Two Evils

Summary: After Damian’s flirty nature comes to life, you’re left to deal with its aftermath with no other than the Demon King and his Human vessel.

Pairings: Bálor x F!Reader x Finn

Warnings: +18, smut, slight heresy, mentions of worship, p in v, oral (f receiving), curse words, slight dom x sub.

A/N: This is my birthday gift for the amazing @theworldofotps , she wanted a sequel to Salome so I hope you like it, babe. I wish you nothing but the best in your new journey and I hope it’s filled with all good things one can have in life! I love you so much, thank you for being my friend, and for being one of the most amazing people I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet in my life. You truly deserve the world and I hope you have an amazing day love ya.

Tags: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @mjfass , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @moxkindagirl , @sunshinevirus , @im-just-a-mississippi-girl , @ripleyswhore

Of Damian’s flirty nature, you were already aware of, not only because of Finn’s endless warnings but also because you’ve witnessed the Puerto Rican man’s charm over women a handful of times now.

Damian flirts with everyone, literally everyone. No matter the age, gender, or ethnicity, he always found a way to captivate whomever he interacted with. And it was no different with you.

“Wow, mami” Damian whistled when you entered through the club’s back door. “You’re gonna give a man a heart attack”.

Your outfit was less than impressive, since it was a low night at the club you decided for a more casual look: a navy blue velvet tracksuit, along with a pair of black All Stars summed up your outfit for the night.

“Always a charmer, huh?” You chuckled, unaware that Finn was approaching you from behind.

“What can I say?” Damian smirked “A beautiful woman has the power to bring out the best in me”

“And your best is to be an ultimate flirt?” You narrowed your eyes playfully

“When it comes to you, yeah” the amused wide grin on Damian’s face was more than enough to make you giggle.

“You’re a menace, sir”

“Sir?” His eyes widened in surprise, not wasting the opportunity to tease you further. “Mami, if you’re gonna start calling me that then we just might have to go upstairs right now” Damian winked at you with a smirk plastered on his lips. “I’ll even rent the VIP room, just for you”.

Now you have to laugh. A little more than you should’ve, but who could blame you? The guy had great timing and impeccable humor.

“Wow, how could I say no to that” Your nonchalant tone left no room for doubt that you took his teasing in an amicable way, similar to two siblings poking fun at each other, you had no intentions of taking this to a more intimate level, and neither did Damian. It was all lighthearted. Everyone knew that, everyone could see that, except them. To them, this suddenly became a pissing contest, a dispute, a challenge. One they never lost and didn’t intend to lose.

“The shipping of new furniture arrived this morning, Priest”. The doubled voice resonated from your lover’s body, the tenor contrasting with the bass as both voices complimented each other with each word. “Go unpack it…now”.

“Isn’t that Dominik’s j-“

“I said NOW!” The bass voice screamed, settling its dominance. Finn’s eyes began to shift colors. One remained blue as the other turned a fierce shade of orange-red.

“Ok, Boss” Damian set his hands up as a sign of submission. “Chill out”.

Before Damian could even blink, Finn stood in front of him. His face got so close to Damian’s that they almost seemed the same height.

“If you ever dare to tell me to ‘chill out’ again, those will be your last words in this pitiful earth before you become hellhound’s breakfast!” The demon left no room for debate. Bálor learned how to tolerate humans after being in Finn’s body for over 40 years, that didn’t mean he liked them or that he wouldn’t kill one for fun. The only human Bálor seemed to truly like was you, but that could easily change if his pride is on the line.

“Bálor, he was just-“

“Silence!” He growled at you, voice bubbling with hatred, “If you dare to speak one word to defend him, little girl, you’ll know a side of me that you’ll wish you’d never met!” His fiery gaze fixed on you as he pointed to Finn’s room. “Go and wait for us there, and don’t make me repeat myself!”.

Reluctantly, you walked up the stairs, mouthing “I’m sorry” to Damian as you reached the top.

If there was a god, you were praying to him now, silently begging him not to let Bálor hurt Damian just because of a lighthearted teasing.

“He doesn’t listen to anyone’s prayers, why would he listen to yours?” Bálor’s voice rumbled in your ear, quickly making you turn around to face him at the foot of the bed.

“Do you think you’re that special, pet?”

Oh, he was mad.

At first, when you met him, Bálor called you “pet”, it was a deprecating term at the time, filled with disdain. But after a while, you became “little girl” when he was in a good mood, “my pet” when he was annoyed with you, and “pet” when he was mad at you.

“Are you God's precious little thing? That’s why you think He’ll hear you, huh?” When only silence answered him, Bálor growled loudly “Answer me!”

“No-“ Your voice was cut off by the sudden pressure of Finn’s hand amplified by Bálor’s strength around your neck.

“Good. Because HE won’t hear you! You belong to a demon and a human, the only god you should ever pray for is ME! I’m the only one who’ll hear you, and when you do pray, make sure to keep your eyes down on the earth where I am, because I’m not up in the sky, pet. Your help won’t come from up there, so stop searching in the clouds!” His hand abruptly left your neck, causing you to give two steps back due to the lack of force around your throat.

“Kneel”

Your brows furrowed at his statement, trying to understand the reason for that order.

“You were praying, weren’t you? Humans usually do that on their knees, no?! So go on, pet, kneel at your god’s feet and pray”.

“Bálor, please, let me-“

“I.said.kneel.and.pray”

Bálor pushed you down on the floor, making your knees hit the black hardwood floor with a thump. A small cry escaped your lips, your watery eyes looked up to stare at him, who had now taken full control of Finn’s body. His thick veins were black, red irises, canines sharp as razors, hair jet black, and nails tainted black at the edge.

You hoped to every sacred being that your next move wouldn’t anger him even more, but you remember when Finn once told you “Bálor is like an ice cube, cover him with some warmth and you’ll watch him melt”.

“Can I please touch you?” You asked with a meek voice, but he didn’t answer. You took this as a silent green light and pressed your palms against his torso.

“I didn’t mean to enrage you, my lord, I’m deeply sorry”. The correct word to use would be ‘upset’ instead of ‘enrage’, but Bálor didn’t deal with feelings and vulnerability well so you knew how to choose your words wisely by now.

“But trust me when I say that there was no ill intention on my part nor from Damian” You felt his abs harden at the mention of the name, the color of Bálor’s eyes began to dance like the most aggressive fire and your hands soon began to travel up and down his stomach, using touch to soothe his raw emotions.

“You’re the only one for me. You and Finn are the only men I’ll ever want, the only men I’ll ever need. I don’t want anyone else” Your hands began to travel down his abs, reaching his v-line that you traced with your nails. “Only you can satisfy me, only you can drive me insane with just a look”.

Your hands now stopped at his black jeans, one hand began massaging his crotch as the other caressed his lower belly - the most sensitive part of Bálor. “Only you can make me ache for you for days on end, only you know how to make me cum in mere seconds, only you can make me so hungry for your touch that I feel like I’m about to lose my mind if I don’t have you”.

“I don’t like when you respond to the flirtation of other men, pet”

“Damian flirts even with the walls, sir. He flirted with you, countless times” You tried to reason, feeling his cock begin to harden underneath the black jeans.

Bálor let out a small huff as you continued “Am I lying though? You know he did, with both you and Finn. And I always laughed at it because I knew there was no ill intention behind it. In the same way, there was none between him and me. You know that” You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss on his clothed erection, “You’re the only one for me, my king”.

“On the bed” Bálor lowly hummed, cupping his hard cock with his palm.

You felt someone pushing you onto the bed from behind, panic covered your features until you saw who it was.

“You’re gonna join us?” Your soft smile pressed against the bare skin of his abs. His hands gathered your hair, softly pulling your head down to rest on the mattress.

His hand pulled the zipper of your jacket down, humming in approval at the sight of your bare breast.

“Came prepared I see” Finn grinned, head leaning down to close his warm mouth around your nipple.

“My good little pet” Bálor spoke from your right, the bed dipped as he knelt on the mattress. His hand pressed your cheeks together, causing your lips to open in a partial pout. “Let’s see how much you can handle it” He chuckled, grabbing you by the hair to quickly turn you around to lay on your stomach.

Your vision was blurred, your voice hoarse from so much screaming and cursing. Two became one, same body, same face, different details. One was sweet and sensual, the other was rough and raw. They were the perfect match, both drove you crazy in their way. The sun and the moon, night and day, dark and light, good and evil, residing within the same man, one born in hell, the other, heaven sent. Either way, you loved the duality, loved the experience, and most importantly, loved them.

“Shit, shit, shit” You whispered in a hurry as Bálor rapidly moved behind you, his cock slipped in and out with such ease that made you wonder how long you could take this.

In the meantime, Finn watched you, his hand lazily stroking his cock beside you in bed, admiring every little frown, every gasp, every moan, every plea. Your eyes instantly closed when Bálor hit your sweet spot, but they instantly reopened at the prickling feeling on your cheek.

“I didn’t say you could stop looking at him!” Bálor stated, landing another burning slap against your cheek, “Don’t you dare close those beautiful eyes, my pet”.

Finn smirked, leaning forward, placing his flattened tongue against the burning skin of your cheek. He gave a few kitten licks until the skin lost its vibrant reddish color, “You taste so good”, he licked again, only changing the route of his tongue.

Finn danced the tip of his tongue across your skin, traveling down your belly, stopping right above your mound. Bálor grinned at the sight, pulling your leg to rest on his shoulder.

“Oh my fucking god” You moaned loudly, feeling the tip of Finn’s tongue circling your clit as Bálor’s cock grew harder inside you. “I’m gonna die, I can’t take it”.

“Of course you can, love” Finn’s muffled voice echoed between your legs.

“Not only you can but you will, my precious pet” Bálor snarled in your ear “Because we won’t be done with you until the sun rises”.

#finn bálor x reader #finn balor x reader #finn balor imagine #finn bálor imagine #the judgement day #the judgment day x reader #the judgement day image #fergal devitt #finn balor #finn bálor #masochist writes

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theworldofotps · 11 months

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Hand Necklace (Drabble Prompt)

Pairing: Damian Priest x FemReader Word Count: 738 Prompt: "You would look good with my hands around your throat."

Here you go anon thank you so much for requesting I hope you enjoy it and don't mind the little spin I put on it. ______ Tag list: @omg-im-such-a-masochist @melissahausen @new-zealand-chic @writtingrose @99hook @sjwrites22 @sassymox @mrsacklesevansmgk @xladyxfatex @biforrollynch @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @demonqueen29 @itsicantbelievethis666 @lilred9 @rebellious-desires @claymorexpunisher @letsgivethisonemoreshot @ava-valerie @shortyiceheart @serpantscorpio8497 @thatpanpal @thatnerdwriter @wrestlersownmyheart @vebner37 @auburnwrites @aews-four-pillars @seeingstarks @whenimakeitshine1234 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @blaquekitty @ironshamelessyouth @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @ripleyswhore @melblacc @alliwant456 @elevennbloom @xbreezymeadowsx @mcreignsera If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. _____

“I fucking hate him.”

Slamming your suitcase shut, you shook your head in frustration as Rhea packed up her toiletries bag. You know coming to Damian’s best friend about him probably wasn’t the best idea; but Rhea was your friend too and hopefully she’d be able to give some advice.

“You know I never did understand why you two don’t get along I mean I’ve seen people hate each other but you two are on a completely different level. What’s up with that?”

“He drives me crazy! Always with his little snide remarks, how he thinks I should be extra wrap yourself in bubble wrap careful because I’m smaller than him I may get hurt than where would I be. And it’s always remarks about how I annoy him plus the millions of other things.”

Rhea listened to you animatedly talking an amused smile crossing her face, she knew something that you and Damian probably didn’t yet. The two of you had some major sexual tension and she had even spoken with a Finn about it who readily agreed. The way you and Damian were constantly bickering and trying to one up the other with words. She truly believed deep down it was because you guys had some hidden feelings.

“I just really want to hit him, preferably over the head with a chair.”

“Maybe you both need to get laid, work off your frustration through sex not fighting each other.”

Hearing the words out of the Aussie woman’s mouth had you stopping in your tracks mouth agape as you looked at her.

“No way could I sleep with Damian are you kidding me? He’s so…well you know and just absolutely could never happen.”

“Babes, I never said sleep with Damian I just said the two of you need to get laid but it’s very interesting you automatically assume I meant sleep with him.”

She smirked causing your face to heat up as you zipped your case shut and pointed a finger at her.

“Don’t even think about spinning any narratives Ripley I mean it I will kick your ass.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

Rhea winked, walking over when a knock sounded on the locker room door. Stepping back, you frowned when Damian stepped past her his eyes zeroing in on you.”

“Sorry didn’t realize you were busy with..her I can just come back.”

“No, it’s fine I just need to get something from Becks why don’t you wait here and then we can head out.”

Without giving either of you a chance to respond Rhea quickly left slamming the door behind her. Huffing, you went about collecting the rest of your things, doing your best to ignore Damian which wasn’t an easy feat.

“Are you going to just stand in the way or sit the fuck down?”

You asked, trying to slip past him to grab your phone charger Damian continued to block your way and when you looked up you were startled to see his eyes were darker than normal.

“Why don’t you try asking nicer?”

“Why don’t you kiss my ass?”

Pushing past him you picked up your charger and freeze when he spoke again.

“Bend over and I will.”

The silence in the room was almost deafening as you slowly turned to look at him, a brow raised.

“Excuse me?”

Slowly he walked over to you and watched as you backed up right into the wall a smirk crossing his face as he leaned closer to you.

“I said, bend over and I will.”

Gulping you clear your throat avoiding his gaze.

“No thanks I’d rather be hit by a car.”

“How long are we going to play this game princesa?”

“What game?”

“The one where we pretend to hate each other when deep down I think we both know we want nothing more than to fuck each other.”

His voice had dropped to a low whisper that had your thighs clenching as he leaned close. He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder then pulled back tilting his head a few times.

“What?”

“Just thinking and you know what? You would look good with my hands around your throat."

Your eyes widen as his hand captured your neck and his lips crashed into yours a hot needy kiss that left you both panting for air and heated with desire.

“My hotel room, 208 soon as you get there.”

“Okay…I’ll be there.”

#damian priest #damian priest x reader #damian priest fanfic #prompt drabble #enemies to lovers

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fitz-higgins · 1 year

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LGBT literature of the 1860s–1910s. Part 5

After a long pause, the list is back! Here we have a couple of plays, accounts by two trans women, lesbian poetry, and more.

1. Despised and Rejected, by A.T. Fitzroy (Rose Allatini; 1918). A pacifist novel published during World War One? With gay and lesbian characters? Yes, that was sure to get people in trouble. Its publisher was fined and the judge called it “morally unhealthy and most pernicious”. So, Dennis is a young composer who hates violence and therefore refuses to go to war. He also suffers because he is a “musical man”, that is, gay, and loves Alan, art-loving son of a wealthy businessman. His friend Antoinette, meanwhile, is “strangely attracted” to a woman. Nevertheless, the two attempt to love each other. When the war begins, Alan appears in Dennis’ life again, and they try to avoid being sent to the front together. Alan also persuades Dennis to accept who he is. Edward Carpenter himself defended the novel, saying that “the book is also a plea for toleration of a very much misunderstood section of humanity”. Read online

2. Autobiography of an Androgyne, by Ralph Werther (1918). Ralph Werther, also known as Jennie June, wrote this autobiography for doctors, and it is very revealing. Being a New York fairy (male prostitute) and possibly a trans woman, they tell frankly about the city’s gay underworld of the early 20th century and their personal experience, which is sometimes too frank and dark perhaps, but all the more interesting. Read online

3. Poems by Mikhail Kuzmin. Kuzmin was not just the author of Russia’s first gay novel, but also a poet. Many of his works were dedicated to or mentioned his lovers. I’d recommend Where Will I Find Words (in English and Russian), Night Was Done (both in English and Russian), from the 1906-1907 collection Love of This Summer (available fully in Russian), mostly based on his love affair with Pavel Maslov in 1906. And also If They Say (in English and Russian), which is a great statement.

4. The Loom of Youth, by Alec Waugh (1917). A semi-biographical novel based on Evelyn Waugh’s older brother’s experience at Sherborne School in Dorset. It is a story of Gordon Caruthers’ school years, from the age of 13 to 19, and it is full of different stories typical for public schools, be it pranks and cheating exams or dorm life and sports. Although the homosexual subject was quite understated, the author implied that it was a tradition and open secret in public schools. The book became popular and soon caused a great scandal. Worth noting that before that Alec was expelled for flirting with a boy. Read online

5. Two Speak Together, by Amy Lowell (1919). Lowell was a famous American poet and lesbian. Many of her poems were dedicated to her lover, actress Ada Dwyer Russell, specifically the section Two Speak Together from Pictures of the Floating World. These poems are infused with flower imagery, which wasn’t uncommon for lesbian poetry of the time. Read online

6. De berg van licht/The Mountain of Light, by Louis Couperus (1905-1906). Couperus is called the Dutch Oscar Wilde for a reason: this is one of the first decadent novels in Dutch literature. It is also a historical one, telling about a young androgynous Syrian priest Heliogabalus who then becomes a Roman Emperor. Homoerotism, hedonism, aestheticism: Couperus creates a very vivid world of Ancient Rome. He also covered the topic of androgyny in his novel Noodlot, which was mentioned in Part 3 of this list. Read online in Dutch

7. Frühlings Erwachen/Spring Awakening/The Awakening of Spring, by Frank Wedekind (1891, first performed in 1906). This play criticized the sexually oppressive culture prevalent in Europe at the time through a collection of monologues and short scenes about several troubled teens. Each one of them struggles with their puberty, which often leads to a tragic end. Like in The Loom of Youth, homosexuality is not the central focus of the play, but one character, Hänschen, is homosexual and explores his sexuality through Shakespear and paintings. The play was later turned into a famous musical. Read online in German or in English

8. Twixt Earth and Stars, by Radclyffe Hall (1906). Though it wasn’t known to many at the time, these poems were dedicated to women, some to Hall’s actual lovers. Read online

9. The Secret Confessions of a Parisian: The Countess, 1850-1871, by Arthur Berloget (published in 1895). This account is similar to the Autobiography of an Androgyne, albeit shorter. The author nowadays is thought to be a trans woman. They describe their love for women’s dresses, the euphoria from wearing dresses, makeup and wigs, the life as a “female impersonator” in Parisian cafe-concerts, and their love affair with a fellow prisoner. The autobiography is not available online, but you can read it in Queer Lives: Men’s Autobiographies from Nineteenth-Century France by William Peniston and Nancy Erber.

10. At Saint Judas’s, by Henry Blake Fuller (1896). This is possibly the first American play about homosexuality. It is very short. An excited groom is waiting for his wedding ceremony in the company of his gloomy best man. They are former lovers, and this short scene is not going to end well… Read online

Previous part is here

#lgbt literature #lgbt fiction #queer history #queer fiction #lesbian literature #russian literature #gay literature #gay history #spring awakening #lesbian history #blog: history #blog: literature

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duckprintspress · 5 months

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Queer Book Recs for Speak Your Language Day!

Once a year on Tumblr on May 7th, the account @spyld organizes Speak Your Language Day, a day to encourage people on such an English-centric platform to speak their native languages instead. Duck Prints Press works with creators from over the world, many of whom speak languages other than English as their native tongues (French and German are most common among our folks, but they’re far from the only mother tongues) and so we wanted to join in the celebration for the day by highlighting some of our favorite queer works originally published in languages other than English. Six people contributed to this list (half themselves not native English speakers.). Original language blurbs used when possible!

Where We Go from Here (Você Tem a Vida Inteira) by Lucas Rocha. Original language: Brazilian Portuguese

As vidas de Ian, Victor e Henrique se encontram de uma forma inesperada. Ian conhece Victor no dia em que recebe o resultado de seu teste rápido de HIV. Os dois são universitários. Victor está envolvido com Henrique. Ian está solteiro. Os três são gays.

Dois deles têm a vida atingida pela notícia de um diagnóstico positivo para o HIV. Um não tem o vírus. Um está indetectável. Dois estão apaixonados. Henrique é mais velho e, depois de Victor, pensou que poderia acreditar de novo em alguém.

Victor têm medo do que o amor pode trazer para a sua vida.

Ian sequer sabe se será capaz de amar.

Os três são, ao mesmo tempo, heróis e vilões de uma história que não é sobre culpa, mas sim sobre amor, amigos e sobre como podemos formar nossas próprias famílias.

Guardian (镇魂/Zhen Hun) by priest. Original language: Chinese

Zhao Yunlan heads up a covert division of the Ministry of Public Security that deals with the strange and unusual, blurring the line between the mortal realm and the Netherworld. His cocky, casual attitude conceals both a sharp mind and an arsenal of mystical tools and arcane knowledge.

While investigating a gruesome death at a local university, Zhao Yunlan crosses paths with the reserved Professor Shen Wei. Zhao Yunlan is immediately intrigued by Shen Wei’s good looks and intense gaze, and the attraction between them is immediate and powerful, even as Shen Wei tries to keep his distance. Shen Wei and his secrets are a puzzle Zhao Yunlan feels compelled to solve as mysterious circumstances throw them together, and their connection becomes impossible to deny.

The Center of the World (Die Mitte der Welt) by Andreas Steinhöfel. Original language: German

Was immer ein normales Leben auch sein mag – der 17-jährige Phil hat es nie kennengelernt. Denn so ungewöhnlich wie das alte Haus ist, in dem er lebt, so ungewöhnlich sind auch die Menschen, die dort ein- und ausgehen – seine chaotische Mutter Glass, seine verschlossene Zwillingsschwester Dianne und all die anderen. Und dann ist da noch Nicholas, der Unerreichbare, in den Phil sich unsterblich verliebt.

Journey Home (A Caminho de Casa) by May Barros. Original language: Brazilian Portuguese

Amara e Luiza are two witches that live in a queerplatonic relationship. When Luiza decides to embark on a journey throught the galaxy in a quest for the lost fortress of Laura, the Dragon Queen, she ends up finding more than expected, while Amara follows her footsteps, hoping it’s not too late.

Roze Brieven by Splinter Chabot. Original language: Dutch

Op zijn verjaardag op 3 maart 2020 debuteerde Splinter Chabot met CONFETTIREGEN. Het boek werd al snel omarmd door de boekhandel en media. En daar bleef het niet bij. Sinds de verschijning krijgt Splinter dagelijks reacties op zijn openhartige verhaal over zijn coming-out. Reacties van ouders, van jongeren die met dezelfde worsteling kampen, van ouderen die zichzelf herkennen in het verhaal, van mensen uit de LGBTQ+-gemeenschap, van docenten en nog vele anderen. Ontroerende, grappige, gekke, treurige en hoopvolle reacties die Splinter stuk voor stuk beantwoordt.

In Roze brieven zijn de meest bijzondere brieven verzameld door Splinter zelf met daarbij de reacties die hij heeft gestuurd. Voor alle lezers van CONFETTIREGEN en voor iedereen die worstelt met zijn of haar identiteit zal Roze brieven een waardevolle bron van herkenning zal zijn. Een intieme en ontroerende bundeling waarin een belangrijke boodschap weerklinkt: Het wordt beter.

Silent Reading (默读/Mo Du) by priest. Original language: Chinese

Childhood, upbringing, family background, social relations, traumatic experiences…We keep reviewing and seeking out the motives of criminals, exploring the subtlest emotions driving them. It’s not to put ourselves in their shoes and sympathize, or even forgive them; it’s not to find some reasons to exculpate their crimes; it’s not to kneel down before the so-called “complexity of human nature”; nor to introspect social conflicts, much less to alienate ourselves into monsters.We just want to have a fair trial – for ourselves and for those who still have hope for the world.

Favorite (Preferida) by May Barros. Original language: Brazilian Portuguese

(no blurb available)

Amatka by Karin Tidbeck. Original language: Swedish

Av ren slump har människor hamnat i en parallell värld. Det är en instabil plats, där orden hela tiden formar verkligheten. Den dagliga kampen för att överleva har skapat ett samhälle fyllt av regler, där kollektivet alltid går före individen. Vanja skickas till det avlägsna samhället Amatka. De människor hon möter där ruskar om i hennes sorg och ensamhet. Hon gör häpnadsväckande upptäckter, som förändrar inte bara henne, personligen. I en instabil värld kan en förändring spridas hur långt som helst.

Thieves (Voleuse) by Lucie Bryon. Original language: French

Arriver à l’heure en cours et étudier ? Très peu pour Ella. Ce qu’elle aime ? Regarder à la dérobée la douce et mystérieuse Madeleine et, bien sûr, faire la fête. Un peu trop, même.

Un matin, elle se réveille avec une gueule de bois carabinée : c’est le blackout. Et la panique. Chez qui a-t-elle passé la soirée ? Et pourquoi son lit est jonché d’objets luxueux qui ne lui appartiennent absolument pas ?

Here the Whole Time (Quinze Dias) by Vitor Martins. Original language: Brazilian Portuguese

Felipe está esperando esse momento desde que as aulas começaram: o início das férias de julho. Finalmente ele vai poder passar alguns dias longe da escola e dos colegas que o maltratam. Os planos envolvem se afundar nos episódios atrasados de suas séries favoritas, colocar a leitura em dia e aprender com tutoriais no YouTube coisas novas que ele nunca vai colocar em prática.

Mas as coisas fogem um pouquinho do controle quando a mãe de Felipe informa que concordou em hospedar Caio, o vizinho do 57, por longos quinze dias, enquanto os pais dele não voltam de uma viagem. Felipe entra em desespero porque a) Caio foi sua primeira paixãozinha na infância (e existe uma grande possibilidade dessa paixão não ter passado até hoje) e b) Felipe coleciona uma lista infinita de inseguranças e não tem a menor ideia de como interagir com o vizinho.

Love Me for Who I Am (不可解なぼくのすべてを/Fukakai na Boku no Subete o) by Kata Konayama. Original language: Japanese

男の子？女の子？『ぼく』らの青春にはナゾがいっぱい!

女子の制服を着て学校に通う高校生、もぐもはある日、カフェのアルバイトに誘われる。可愛い制服を着て働ける仕事に、最初は喜ぶもぐもだったが、このカフェが『男の娘カフェ』であることを知って…。

This Is Our Place (Se a Casa 8 Falasse) by Vitor Martins. Original language: Brazilian Portuguese

O terceiro romance de Vitor Martins, autor de Quinze dias e Um milhão de finais felizes Ambientado e narrado pela mesma casa em três décadas diferentes, Se a casa 8 falasse é um romance sobre jovens lidando com mudanças drásticas, conflitos familiares e primeiros amores, que mostra que, apesar das gerações mudarem, algumas experiências são capazes de atravessar a barreira do tempo. Algumas casas guardam histórias especiais. A que fica no número 8 da rua Girassol tem muito para contar. 2000: Ana recebe a notícia de que vai se mudar e será obrigada a deixar para trás tudo o que conheceu até agora, inclusive a parte mais dolorida de todas: sua namorada. 2010: Enquanto os pais de Greg passam por um divórcio complicado, ele é enviado para a casa da tia, que é dona de uma locadora em tempos de internet e odeia companhia – e muitas outras coisas. 2020: Beto sempre quis se mudar e seguir o sonho de ser fotógrafo em São Paulo. Só que uma pandemia aparece para obrigá-lo a ficar trancado em casa com a mãe protetora e a irmã aparentemente perfeita. Esta é uma história sobre uma casa e seus moradores, incluindo um vira-lata de três patas chamado Keanu Reeves

Heaven Official’s Blessing (天官赐福/Tian Guan Ci Fu) by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu. Original language: Chinese

Born the crown prince of a prosperous kingdom, Xie Lian was renowned for his beauty, strength, and purity. His years of dedicated study and noble deeds allowed him to ascend to godhood. But those who rise may also fall, and fall he does–cast from the heavens and banished to the world below.

Eight hundred years after his mortal life, Xie Lian has ascended to godhood for the third time, angering most of the gods in the process. To repay his debts, he is sent to the Mortal Realm to hunt down violent ghosts and troublemaking spirits who prey on the living. Along his travels, he meets the fascinating and brilliant San Lang, a young man with whom he feels an instant connection. Yet San Lang is clearly more than he appears… What mysteries lie behind that carefree smile?

Golden Hue (Aura Dourada) by May Barros. Original language: Brazilian Portuguese

(no blurb available)

The Way Spring Arrives and Other Stories (no Chinese title) ed. by Regina Kanyu Wang & Yu Chen. Original language: Chinese

In The Way Spring Arrives and Other Stories, you can dine at a restaurant at the end of the universe, cultivate to immortality in the high mountains, watch roses perform Shakespeare, or arrive at the island of the gods on the backs of giant fish to ensure that the world can bloom.

Written, edited, and translated by a female and nonbinary team, these stories have never before been published in English and represent both the richly complicated past and the vivid future of Chinese science fiction and fantasy.

Time travel to a winter’s day on the West Lake, explore the very boundaries of death itself, and meet old gods and new heroes in this stunning new collection.

There are so many wonderful queer books being published in languages other than English. What are some of your favorites, available in translation or not?

View this list, and other books we’ve previously recommend that were originally published in languages other than English, on this Goodreads shelf!

#duck prints press #speak your language day #book recommendations #queer books

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immajustvibehere · 1 year

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Spark (6/8)

Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader - Enemies to Lovers

Chapter 6 summary: While still recovering from your wound, you get wind of a trap being layed out for Arthur. You might be the only one who can protect him from something bad happening...

link to my masterlist

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5

Warning: You have to live with my headcanon that Micah had something to do with Arthur getting kidnapped by the O'Driscolls.

3800 words, 18 minutes reading time

Your wound was healing agonisingly slow. Or at least, it seemed like that to you. Miss Grimshaw had sternly forbidden you to leave your bedroll for the first two days. Afterwards, she'd remain on high alert and snatch everything out of your hands that was even remotely heavy.

Grimshaw also urged you to take care of your wound, so it wouldn't get infected. She offered to have a look at it. Charles and Hosea also offered their expertise, showing that they meant well. Yet, you always refused. Though the sight wasn't a pretty one, you insisted on taking care of it yourself. Had Arthur offered...you might haven't refused. But only because he was the one who stitched you up in the first place. You knew he was capable and secretly, you longed for his gentle hands, but you’d never openly admit that.

The following week passed with a certain routine. You'd wake up early, often forced awake by the pain in your abdomen, and share a cigarette with Arthur. You never said much in the morning. The only thing he usually mentioned in a gruff and raspy morning voice what he'd do today and how the previous mission had gone. Then you'd do the chores that Grimshaw allowed you to do: cleaning weapons, washing the dishes and chopping vegetables. This aside, the days were marked by sitting by the fire and listening to whoever's story was being told at the moment.

Tonight, as it grew late and camp gradually emptied, with every person retiring to their designated bedroll one by one. Micah was the only one left. And while you had enough alcohol in your system to numb the occasional pain in your abdomen, Micah had decided to get absolute shit faced. If you understood correctly, it had something to do with losing some decent amount of money while gambling earlier. For the past half hour, your half-brother had been mumbling a bunch of nonsensical words, you had stopped bothering to listen. But suddenly, you perked up your ears.

"Ohh, I gotta tell you something", Micah rambled on, but he put such peculiar stress on the words, it made your stomach turn. "You know some people here...", he went on.

Micah paused and grumbled, opening his sixth bottle of beer. Honestly, not too much of an astonishing number, hadn't he already arrived drunk at camp a couple of hours earlier.

"Some people here ain't no good for the gang...just gonna make a lot of trouble down the line", he slurred.

Though your thoughts on "those people" had changed significantly in the last weeks, you knew better than to let Micah know that. So you answered with an air of nonchalance and a hint of mockery: "The women, you mean?"

"No, no", Micah chuckled darkly.

"The hophead of a priest?", you swallowed after delivering these words. Swanson was getting on your nerves daily, but he had proven to be a good listener.

"You ain't thinkin' big enough!", Micah gestured some huge motion with his hands, "Morgan's gone soft recently...Ain't no use for that. I'll just send him up the ridge and maybe they'll take care of it", he hiccupped. Your eyes searched the camp, you weren't sure why, but maybe you wanted to see if Arthur was still awake. At this very moment, you couldn't make any sense of Micah's words and when you looked at him again, his body was slumped over with soft snores escaping his open mouth.

The next day, lunch had barely passed when you heard the commotion, whose cause was a livid discussion between Dutch, Hosea, Pearson, Arthur and Micah. Something about Colm O'Driscoll and a parley. You hadn’t been properly introduced to the feud Dutch had with Colm, but you have had enough run-ins with his boys. After all, when you stole the bank stage with Micah and Arthur, they had almost managed to surprise you.

While you watched from a distance, the discussion seemed to have found an end. Dutch and Micah strolled off to their horses, followed by Arthur, who reluctantly trailed behind them. He wasn’t so happy about the conclusion of the conversation.

"Fuck", you mumbled. Is this what Micah had been talking about? You waited until the group had left, staring at the dust their horses had stirred up. You had to follow. This uneasy feeling in your stomach that Arthur was in danger wouldn't leave.

For a moment you took a deep breath and thought: "The heck? Why should I care?" Only to blink and admit to yourself, you cared a fucking lot. There was no way denying that. As Arthur stitched you up, his warm hands all over your body, that did something to you. You never thought anyone would ever treat you this kindly. And even though the circumstances had been...peculiar...you didn't care. If there was even the slightest chance....of chasing this feeling could pay off...

You strode towards your horse, aware that neither you, nor your horse, were carried any weapons. Grimshaw still had a stern look at you and when you tried to carry your guns yesterday, it was frowned upon with some demeaning remarks. You were still grounded to camp chores and resting your wound, though you were pretty sure it had beautifully healed the last couple of days. It didn't matter now. You sneaked to your horse and seized the opportunity to ride off before anyone could tell you not to.

Arthur was lying in the grass, the scope of his gun pressed to his eye. He didn't exactly know what the hell he was doing here. It hadn't sound like a good idea before, and it didn't feel right even now, though he had a good view of the surroundings and saw that the coast was clear. A sigh escaped Arthur’s lips when he suddenly heard grass behind him rustling. He was in the motion of turning around when the sound of a muffled groan came almost simultaneous to something warm splashing onto his exposed arm.

When Arthur looked up, he saw you slitting the throat of an O'Driscoll that had sneaked up right behind him. There was still some life in him when you whirled him around to bury your knife in his stomach. Once, twice,...

"God damn fucker!", you hissed, your knife about to stab him for a third time, when Arthur tackled you from behind and pulled you on the ground.

"Jesus, woman! What the hell are you doing here?", Arthur hissed.

"Saving your ass, you ungrateful bastard!", you yelled back. The adrenaline was rushing through your body and you feared your heart would jump out of your chest any second now. Your horse was at some distance, so nobody would hear you ride up and you had sprinted the last yards.

Arthur had to give you credit for staying almost clean after pretty much gutting the fellow, most of the blood had landed on him, anyways. When you opened your mouth again and sat up, angrily wrangling yourself out of Arthur's grip, you spoke more quietly, and yet not quietly enough for a mission where the job was to stay hidden: "This fucker was about to knock you out, Arthur! If I hadn't been-"

Before you could finish the sentence, Arthur's hand was slapped onto your mouth and he grabbed your collar, to pull you into a lower position again.

"Shhh! I hear you. Stay low, damnit", Arthur's eyes bore holes into you as he tried to get his point across. For some moments, neither of you said anything. Your heavy breathing, which you had trouble calming down, was the loudest noise. With his big hand pressed on your mouth, you feared you might suffocate if you didn't calm down. This man's blue eyes that looked you up and down did nothing to relax the situation, quite the opposite actually. The thought alone that they would be closed by now if you hadn't stepped in made you sob, muffled by Arthur's hand that was still covering your mouth.

It wasn't only that. Your suspicion had turned out to be true. Micah knew. He fucking knew. This whole thing was designed to get rid of Arthur, and aside from Micah himself, only you were in on that. Arthur too, was wrecking his brain right now. He quickly checked on Dutch and Colm before he lifted his hand off your mouth only to put his index finger onto his lips, indicating you to be quiet.

"We gotta get out of here. They know you're up here", you whispered. Your voice was shaky, which you found deeply embarrassing. But you were upset.

"M'kay darlin'. Come on", Arthur announced, gripping his rifle and crawling away from the edge before he stood up to go to his horse. You followed, flabbergasted. Darling? Where the fuck did that come from? He hadn't even given you time to react. You just hurried after him, catching up when he was mounting his horse.

"We gotta lay low for a while. I'm not supposed to be here and I dare say you aren't expected back either", you said as you pulled yourself onto your horse.

"I gotta tell Dutch that this was a set-up. I knew it was a bad idea to begin with", Arthur answered.

"No. Please", you almost whined. Arthur looked at you with knitted eyebrows. He did not understand why telling Dutch was bad idea, but he hadn't expected that tone from you either, so he decided to give in.

"Okay. I know a nice spot..."

You rode off, leaving the Heartlands behind. The next best creek you passed, you used to get some blood off of you. Despite stabbing the O'Driscoll from behind, you still had managed to get your arms dirty. Arthur watched you in silence. The last couple of questions he had asked had fallen on deaf ears, so he had given up poking for answers right now.

Later, you entered a wooded area. The sky had taken a mesmerizing shade of purple and the presence of some darker clouds in the South suggested that the drizzle that had just started was about to transform into a solid rain shower. It already smelled like damp earth. Guiding your horses with ease, you navigated through the light-filled gaps between the trees. They did a decent job of shielding you from the rain, except for the occasional drop that would land on your arm.

"I camped here a while ago", Arthur explained as he jumped off his horse when you reached a nice place, "'s a good spot."

"Yeah. I'll get a fire started", you said briefly, hitching your horse and walking off to quickly grab some dry twigs. Arthur was left behind at the spot he had picked and kept wondering at your behaviour. He noticed that you didn't have anything on your horse, no spare clothes, or a tent...So, instead of putting up his tent the normal way, he used every inch of the material, not fixing the corners in the dirt, but spanning it in between some trees.

You returned with wood and build a fire. Nothing was said until Arthur had warmed some beans and passed you the can before he had tried some. His eyes were begging for some explanations, but you sighed: "Please. Don't ask."

"I'm not", Arthur put his hands up in defence and though he remained silent, you felt his gaze on you. Trying your very best to ignore it, you gulped down the beans.

"Y/N...", Arthur started.

"Mh?", you replied, mouth full, starring into the flames. The fire had become strong enough to withstand the occasional raindrop, but the air around you had cooled significantly.

"Is your wound okay?", Arthur asked, "You have some blood on your shirt..."

You checked the brownish stain on your shirt, it was indeed at the same height as your wound should be. The wound which should have healed by now.

"Did ya take the stitches out already?", Arthur inquired when he saw your sceptical look.

"Planned on doing it today, but some things came up", you shot back.

"Want me to have a look at it?", Arthur now offered, already changing his sitting position to better accommodate you.

When Arthur caught the slight questioning gleam in your eyes, he smiled softly. You weren't someone to trust easily – he knew, because he's like that too. Yet, despite the wall you both harboured, Arthur couldn’t help but worry. He wasn't sure if you felt the same, but the events of the afternoon had surely left an impression on him. The fact that you had rushed to his side and stabbed a man a few seconds before his light would have gone out...You had been so calm the last two weeks, but today you were visibly shaken. Arthur wasn't sure if there was some deeper meaning behind this or if he let hope dictate his thoughts.

"I ain't gonna hurt you", Arthur said gently, when you didn't answer.

"I know", you shrugged, setting down the can of beans, "I just think that your reasons for getting me to take of my clothes are somewhat unimaginative." You gave a cocky smile when Arthur released a shaky breath. He mumbled a 'You're insane woman’ as you slipped one arm through your sleeve and therefor exposed your bare side.

In a moment, Arthur's hand was on you again. You flinched a bit as his thumb grazed the flesh near the wound.

"Looks good. Just a slight tear, should be all healed up again by tomorrow", Arthur assessed.

"Good", you replied briefly, getting into your shirt again quickly enough to not let Arthur notice the gooseflesh that had formed at his touch. He still saw the blush on your cheeks though.

In a tender moment, your eyes locked in a silent connection, and in that instant, you discovered that his hand hadn't budged. It remained steadfast, gently resting beneath the fabric of your shirt. It was as if an unspoken agreement held you both captive, unwilling to release the intensity of your gaze, except for Arthur's occasional stolen glances towards your lips.

The feeling of wanting nothing more than to protect you overwhelmed Arthur. He wanted to claim you as his, but not in a selfish, unreflective manner. More as a testament that he still could feel so strongly for someone. Arthur wanted to ensure that love was still possible for him. So he leaned in and in a moment, his lips met yours. The touch was so soft and loving that neither Arthur nor you would have expected that your body jerked away. The same moment, your hand met Arthur's cheek, slapping him. It wasn't meant to hurt, it was more your natural answer to this sudden invasion.

"What the hell?", you mouthed breathlessly.

Arthur's head remained frozen in the position your slap had left it in. His lips had curled into a sad smile, his eyes now avoiding yours. The slap had inflicted a sting, but it was a peculiar sensation, not one he was used to from other brawls and beatings.

"Sorry", Arthur mumbled in a soft whisper. The sad smile didn't leave his face, as if something else would surface if he dared to change his expression. "Might have gotten somethings wrong...", he added. Still looking down, he adjusted his hat, so it threw a darker shadow over his eyes.

You found yourself stumbling over your words, caught between the urge to apologize and swear at him at the same time. But your incapability to express your emotions frustrated you deeply. You managed a loud enough "excuse me" for him to hear before you stood up and walked off. Not too far, just a few feet into the shelter of forest where you thought the light of the fire couldn't reach. Arthur watched you walk off. He figured you thought yourself shielded from his gaze, but he saw as you leaned against a tree, lightly bumping your head into the wet bark.

Arthur couldn't bear watching you for long, so he took his journal out and quickly started to write. It was a momentary update of his state of mind and purposefully, he left some space before he started to sketch the outlines of the dark forest and the campfire in front of him, knowing that you would dictate how this evening turned out for both of you.

However, it wasn't long until he heard your boots rustling through the twigs and leaves. Arthur looked up and his eyes followed you, until you were seated right next to him. The closeness surprised him, but he took it as a promising sign. It was a flicker of hope that soothed the anxiety that he had felt at the thought of having offended you seriously. You had your words prepared, but Arthur was faster: "'M sorry, y/n. I should've asked."

Your eyebrows knit together in a sceptical look. You thought about snorting and and mocking him by saying 'Micah's right when he told me you had gone soft' but deep down you knew that this was just further proof that Arthur was more than what meets the eye.

After you had cleared your throat, you said: "It's okay. I didn't mean to slap you, I was just...surprised."

"Remind me to never surprise you again", Arthur joked, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. With light-hearted spirit, he continued the drawing in his journal. You caught a glimpse, but quickly averted your gaze and instead stared into the fire. You sat right next to Arthur, your arms occasionally brushed against each other, yet he didn't bother closing his journal - seemingly unaffected by your presence.

You couldn't help yourself. It was too impressive to see the drawing come together. When he sketched the shadows of the trees, you could make out the raindrops, though he hadn't specifically drawn them. Your eyes became fixated on the tip of his pencil, captivated by its movements, unwilling to tear your gaze away. But it didn't feel right, not after the last time.

Arthur noticed you were restless, so he said in an affirming voice: "I don't mind you watching, ya know?"

"All of a sudden?"

Arthur shrugged and continued to draw: "Not like you learned to read the last couple days, did ya?"

"Maybe I did. Didn't have much to do recently", you teased.

"Sure", Arthur replied, knowing you were bluffing, "So? Read it out then!"

You helplessly stared at the letters he had written, with not one clue in the world what was spelled out there. You tried to come up with something that could have been written there, but you weren't quick enough. Arthur interrupted your thinking process: "Knew it."

You sighed in defeat but lightened up when Arthur chuckled at your frustrated response. Both of you listened to the crackle of the fire. In a silent agreement, every passing moment saw you inching closer, gradually, you leaned against him. Astonishingly, Arthur showed no signs of discomfort, allowing the newfound proximity to exist, as if it were the most natural and cherished space between you.

"I like your drawings, you know", you whispered.

"They ain't special", Arthur replied. He was done with his little painting of the scenery and skipped back two pages to reveal a sketch of a squirrel.

"How can you even draw that thing with those little fuckers moving around all the time? Was it dead when you drew it?", you asked in awe at the level of detail.

"No", Arthur replied, "I jus' remember how it looks like."

Amidst the crackling of the fire, you uttered words that were almost indistinguishable, your voice muffled by your mouth pressed against Arthur's arm. Perceiving your intent, he instinctively adjusted his arm, skilfully manoeuvring it around you. Both of you were now enveloped in a half-embrace and you let it happen willingly. This was exactly what you had been craving the last couple of days. It was unusual, and yet so welcoming and soothing.

You sat like that for a while before Arthur stated his intent of laying down. You replied you'd still sit and tend the fire for a while.

Arthur lied down on his bedroll, staring at the canvas that obstructed his vision of the night sky...which probably was cloudy anyways. Aside from the usual forest noises, it was silent. About fifteen minutes had passed, but Arthur was still far from falling asleep.

"It just has never worked out for me...every time I tried the whole trusting thing...it ended badly", you explained. Your voice ended the silence and caught Arthur's attention. He sat up again.

"'m sorry to hear that", Arthur answered, "But yer still young. There are plenty people out there. I'm sure you'll find someone. If ya weren't so bad behaved-"

"Hey!", you turned towards him, to see a sarcastic smile back at you. You wondered why he’d just said that, when he kissed you earlier. When he clearly wanted you.

Arthur continued in a teasing manner: "I thought you were a nasty companion at first too, but you’re alright if ya calm down a bit and let yer guard down."

"Could say the same about you", you drew circles in the dirt.

After a while, in which you felt Arthurs eyes on you, he said: "You should try 'n rest. There's nobody around."

"Maybe a bear passes by and attacks us."

"Sure", Arthur readjusted his bedroll, "You ain't much to chew on, so ya gonna have plenty of time for running as long as it's busy with me."

Arthur had adjusted his bedroll vertically, so you could at least put your upper body on something softer.

"I bet ya taste like shit. It won't bother with you for long", you grinned at the teasing, surprised to see that Arthur had arranged a sleeping setup that would benefit you both.

"No doubt", Arthur chuckled.

You looked at the bedroll.

"If ya don't mind sharing with an old man that tastes like shit, it might be more comfortable for you like that", Arthur offered and lied down, his head now resting on one part of the soft material, while still leaving enough space between you. You joined him in the grass, turning your back towards him and fixating on random trees in the darkness. It was difficult to get those words out, but you had promised yourself to at least try expressing some of your emotions.

“I…I don’t really care if there’s plenty people out there. I think, I already found the one I’d like to trust...” You might have rushed the delivery of those words, but Arthur had understood them very well. There was a boyish smirk on his lips when he answered.

“I don’t mean to offend, miss, but you picked a real weird fella.”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Next chapter HERE

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#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption community #rdr2 #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr #rdr fanfiction

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akatharton · 3 months

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now that i've thought about it for a little bit, i think i can articulate why forsaken fell flat for me. major spoilers ahead, obviously.

i had a lot of issues with the way bowden characterized haytham, tbh. an advantage of writing in first person POV is that it allows you to really get into a character's head and dissect whatever it is that makes them tick, but haytham comes off like a disinterested bystander in his own life for much of this book. it's most apparent in the earlier parts--like, i really can't suspend my disbelief enough to buy that any child would be able to sit down and write a dispassionate play-by-play of their father's murder shortly after witnessing it. yes, haytham is emotionally closed-off even by 18th century british guy standards, but i didn't get the impression that bowden intentionally wrote him as a character who represses his emotions to avoid dealing with pain--honestly, he just seems kind of bored.

this is made worse by the fact that a lot of important character moments happen offscreen or are breezed through haphazardly. to give an example--around halfway through the book, haytham witnesses braddock's troops massacre a group of dutch civilians. this is presented as a major turning point for his character, as his disgust and horror at the experience prompt him to question his (up until that point) rather insouciant attitude towards violence. you would think that we, as the audience, would get to witness this scene and be privy to our protagonist's thoughts and reactions during what is ostensibly a very traumatic moment for him. yeah lol no. we only hear about it secondhand when haytham relays his falling-out with braddock to birch. but we do get around 50 pages of him chasing a bunch of mercenaries through the black forest in a plot thread that ends up leading nowhere and getting unceremoniously dropped.

to give bowden due credit, older haytham seems much more like a fully realized character than his younger self, though as a sad middle-aged man enjoyer i may be biased. i love how jaded and bitter he is, though it's frustrating how the story never really goes into why he no longer believes that any sort of detente between assassins and templars is possible. his reflections on his relationship with connor are probably the strongest part of the book, and some of their interactions--like the scene where he saves connor from execution--are, imo, better than what we got in the game. that said, i really cannot wrap my head around some of the retcons, with the most egregious being the scene in which haytham finds out about ziio's death from connor. in bowden's version, he already knows that washington murdered ziio and is faking his reaction for... gaslight girboss reasons, i guess? (side note: his dumb ass is not that good of an actor.) just a baffling authorial choice. that scene was hugely important for both characters and one of the few times in the game that we get to see haytham genuinely panicked and unguarded, but god forbid you ever include drama and emotional gravitas in your story, i guess? can't distract from the important stuff, like uh... *checks notes* haytham strangling a guy with his thighs and burning a bunch of coptic priests alive for chopping his valet's dick off.

#also the flippancy with which jenny's ordeal was treated pissed me off to no end but that's a whole nother post lol #assassin's creed forsaken #haytham kenway #long post

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ashs-cardboard-box · 3 months

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Undead Nightmare 2

~ Van Der Linde gang/Male!Reader

~ Platonic

~ 4k words

CW: Gore and disturbing imagery

I'm back !!!! I hope you enjoy :33 I have a few WIP fics I'm working on, along with the long awaited requests. I'm thinking abt making this a "series" of sorts (I <3 Undead Nightmare)

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In the ripe year of 1899, it was as if a new plague had just infected the entire nation– who knew how Nuevo Paraíso was doing. No one knew how it came about. One day, everything was completely fine. The sun rose and fell all the same. The people going about their normal lives without a care in the world. The next, everyone had some sort of illness, it seemed. The animals grew emaciated, more dead than alive, making it hard to find living food. Odd phenomena showed up, like THE walking sasquatch. Due to the rumors that they ate babies, you made sure to put them down before they could.

The dead were rising out of their graves, you were sure you saw your mama come back, right before she took another bullet to the back of her skull. People were killing one another left and right, fighting for their lives.

Dutch had kept everyone on their toes more than usual. Hardly even unpacking before trying to move to another camp. Everyone was scared shitless, as well as confused and partly upset. Surely, it was just mass hysteria. That was what you would assume, if you hadn’t just killed another walking corpse hobbling through the trees at the smell of human flesh.

“Well, what the hell’s wrong with ‘em?” You hear Dutch press gruffly, earning a confused sputter from the undoubtedly inebriated Reverend. Your eyes flick around the trees along the edge of camp warily, trying to find more of those undead freaks. Unable to find any, you shuffle a bit more inward to the center of camp, one rifle in hand, the other on your back.

“I thought you were supposed to be a priest.” Micah remarks sarcastically, as if he had any ground to stand on for morality’s sake, you roll your eyes. You weren’t too sure how it happened, you saw them die right after the Blackwater heist had failed.

Yet, here they were, young Jenny, Mac, and Davey. All tied together in the middle of camp, growling and hissing as Swanson attempts to anoint them with a flask, flicking whatever liquid happens to be inside that thing, but it’s definitely not Holy water.

“Damn, they stink..” Lenny grimaces. His eyes flick over to you as you approach the group before they return to the undead trio. “No better than you or the O’Driscoll.” Bill adds. Normally, it was a comment that would’ve gotten a chuckle, at the expense of the boy, Kieran, you learned, with whom had been practically kidnapped back in Colter.

Everyone was up to their ears in stress, really. The Pinkertons were less of a concern than the rotting bodies that piled in the streets. Add that to the list of trying to keep twenty people alive. It was pretty unanimously decided to send the women and Jack away, board them up someplace with one of the men to protect them. John just so happened to be that man..until he rotates responsibility to someone new, that is.

The gang was tighter than you’d ever seen before, despite joining not too long after Charles had. Trying to protect each other from the horrors that had become society. “Maybe we should just kill them. Get it over with.” Javier suggests, earning a side-eye from Dutch. “He’s right, Dutch. Keeping ‘em here won’t do any of us any good. They’ll only bring a horde.”

“No.” Dutch responds flatly, now outright glaring at you. “We need to stay loyal. Respect our brothers, and dear Jenny, who have fallen before us. If we merely slaughter them..like animals.. We would be no better than they themselves. Savages. Beasts. Faith, and a little redemption, is all they need, son.” You didn’t see Dutch’s point. Not in the slightest. But you didn’t push the issue, knowing chaos was unnecessary during the end of the world as you knew it.

Shuffling off, you spot Hosea sitting on a short stump, staring blankly at the crowd hovering over the trio of undead. “Any ideas?” you inquire, to which he shakes his head with a dissatisfied hum. “It just don’t make sense, Y/N. They aren’t supposed to… y’know.”

You nod as you kneel down next to him, feeling the pressure get taken off your aching feet and back, down onto your knees as they nestle into the grass. Resting one of your firearms on the ground next to you, the other remaining strapped to your back. Despite all the chaos amok, nature still felt the same as it was. You wondered if the trees would remember, only to be pulled out of your thoughts with a sigh from Hosea.

“I sent Sean out with Arthur to find information. Hunt down the nearest school or something..” He mutters, causing you to quirk an eyebrow in confusion. “Arthur and..Sean..? You know he can’t–” You start. “I know.” Hosea cuts in, his eyes flicking away from the crowd to look down at you instead. “Sean can’t read. But, Arthur is the best gun we have, even if he isn’t the most literate. Keeping Sean around camp is a death wish to us all. Like a hyena in a lion’s den.” He explains calmly, earning another curt nod from you. That was the best way to describe ol’ Sean MacGuire. A hyena.

“What’d you want me to do?” You ask, feeling a bit useless just standing around and pondering what to do with Jenny, Mac, and Davey. Hosea hums, reaching into the pocket on his vest and pulling out an old pocket watch. “Maybe you should check on the women with John.. Bring ‘em some food. Find game for Pearson while you’re at it.” He suggests, putting the watch back into its designated pocket.

The thought of leaving camp made you uneasy, but it had to be done. Pushing yourself to stand, you pick up your rifle. Silently dismissing yourself from camp, just as anyone had done before any of this started, you make your way over to the hitch rails and to your horse.

It whinnies as you approach, only growing more wary with the apocalypse, a sentiment you could understand. Holding your hand out in a placating gesture, a small ‘shh’ leaving your lips. The palm of your hand comes to rest on its nose, while the other moves to unwrap the reins from around the rotting wooden rail.

Just as you adjust to step up into the stirrup, you hear someone calling your name from behind you. Turning around quicker than you meant, you spot Charles approaching, Taima in tow. “You need help?” He asks. While you wouldn’t admit it, it’d be nice to have him around. Especially for Hosea’s request of finding game for Pearson, you were a lousy hunter. Ironically better at killing humans than animals. Maybe that was just empathy’s game.

“Sure.” You muse, pushing yourself to mount your horse, swinging your leg up and over the saddle and taking a seat. Slipping one of your rifles into the carbine scabbard on your saddle, the other remaining strapped to your back, not even daring to come down. You need to be ready at all costs, especially with such limited ammunition being passed around. Gunsmiths all got raided God knows when. “‘sea asked me to switch with John, check up on the women ‘n Jack. Bring ‘em a bit of food and bring game back to camp for Pearson.”

Charles merely gives a small hum in acknowledgement, silently mounting Taima alongside you before gently pushing his heels into her flanks, with you to follow suit, allowing Charles to lead you out of camp.

“How you feel ‘bout all this?” You ask, but it’s a bit of a stupid question. Of course Charles wouldn’t feel good about it. No one in their right mind would. “Terrible.” He replies monotonously without missing a beat. “Just feels cruel, I guess.”

“You wonder if they’re suffering?” You inquire. A quick snap of the reins and a small click of your tongue causes your horse to speed up with a small huff. You keep your eyes focused on surrounding land. Watching for both predators, live prey, and those damn freaks.

“Maybe.. But- I’m not them. Ain’t too sure.” Charles sighs, doing the same to be riding alongside you, just heading East and staying away from the streets. Who knew what kind of monstrosities could lie in the cities. You didn’t even want to imagine what Saint Denis was like or how bad it smelled..worse than usual.

It was simple idle conversation, which often happened out on the longer rides, but it made it that much easier to bear. Sometimes sitting for hours at a time, riding down from Annesburg, to Saint Denis, to the middle-of-nowhere New Hanover and back to camp..all in time to make it back for Pearson’s stew in the evening.

Yet, even so, the rides were often longer than you’d like. This one in particular just felt agonizingly slow. It was one of the only times you’d left camp since this whole debacle began and you hated it. Instead of being on edge for lawmen or rival gangs, you were on edge for the growling mob of the undead. Some were slow, some ran after you like their asses were on fire. Some were dumb and brutish, while others spat acidic bile. Truly terrible. Though, the plus side is that they made noise, unlike Pinkertons.

Currently making your way across the tracks separating New Hanover and the East Grizzlies, Ambarino. Out towards a little known cabin Arthur has dubbed ‘Martha’s Swain’. When he first showed it to you, in a desperate attempt for the gang to find some place to hide the women and little Jack, there was one of those rat bastard walking corpses inside. Though, you had little time to assume if she was Martha before she was shot in the face by Arthur. After burying her outside, the cabin was deemed safe and hidden.

As you and Charles approached the cabin, after a damn too long ride, the silence in the air was concerning. Normally, that would be a good thing. Finally a moment to stretch your legs and relax. But now, that was the last thing you wanted. It was suspicious. Charles gives you a side eye with a small nod, pulling his bow out from around his torso and carefully dismounting.

Not wanting to make a ruckus, nor waste ammo, you leave your longarm in its scabbard on your saddle. Instead, unsheathing your knife and hopping down onto the grass with a small huff, your rifle weighing heavy on your back.

You silently follow after Charles, the pair of you half crouch-walking to avoid being seen by anything in the probable vicinity. Your eyes blown wide with caution and your heart racing in your chest, you’re sure your ears are ringing. Rapidly scanning your surroundings as you approach the cabin door. No sign of any threats yet..except for a bear. Your mind flashes with a split image of getting mauled by it, only to shudder instinctively.

Turning your head back to the door as you hear it creak open. Your grip on your knife tightening as Charles pushes it open, bow drawn. The two of you don’t share a word as you follow Charles inside.

To your horror, there’s one of those undead freaks trapped inside the cabin, feasting on someone. A short gasp leaves your lips in surprise, causing it to raise its head just enough from the body, allowing Charles to let go of his bow string, sending an arrow through its deflated, maggot ridden, left eye. Due to the force, the zombie is knocked backwards, dead once again.

“Where the hell is everyone?” Charles asks gruffly, to which you shake your head in uncertainty, already making your way over to the body. You’ve seen a lot of fucked up things in your life, but this takes the cake. The poor sod was still breathing…barely. His blood seeped into the cracks of the cabin, his eyes were wide with terror.

“Help- ..me…” He chokes, and you wish there was something you could do. Several bite marks and infected scratches cover the man’s body, already flushing the skin an unsightly gray-blue, slowly clawing up the man’s insides as the infection travels through his blood stream, though his pulse is slow. Skin was missing from the man’s body, his abdomen punctured and organs ruptured, leaking blood, pus, bile, and, undoubtedly, his bowel contents all over his clothes and the floor underneath. It’s sad– revolting… but every man for himself.

You felt a hint of guilt, sure. Raising your knife above your head with both hands before plunging it down into the middle of the man’s dirty forehead. You can feel bile climbing your throat, forcing you to swallow to hold it back down. It wasn’t like anything you’d ever seen before; the man’s skull just split in half like a goddamn onion. Brain matter leaking out of the bowl-shaped-skull, barely getting snagged on the optic nerve before it paints your boots. But, at the end of the day, your conscience was eased. He was put out of his misery, and there’s less of the undead crawling around.

“Gross..” You mutter, your lip curling in disgust as you stand back up. Wiping off the flat of your knife onto your denim clad jeans. Your eyes linger on the man, a sick image burned into your retinas. But, upon further inspection, the man is wearing a green vest, hardly able to be seen underneath the blood. Torn up by the undead’s mangy claws.

“O’Driscoll.” You point out to Charles with a gesturing nod of your head. Charles, uninterested with the scene, steps past you and further into the cabin, searching for where John had taken the women and young Jack.

“Maybe he had something to do with it.” You mutter, sheathing your knife, heading into the opposite side of the cabin to do the same. “Maybe.” He muses flatly, rifling through the many different belongings atop Martha’s rotting wood table. Accidentally toppling over a vase, swiftly picking it up before it could create noise.

Turning the knob of one of the back doors, you use your shoulder to push it open, finding a nearly empty bedroom as well. Nothing of value to be taken. But, abandoning that thought, you move into the room. Your boots squelching against the unknown substance covering the floor. Pushing forward, you make your way to an end table. By the looks of it, it’s already been robbed. You could only guess it was the gang’s doing. Regardless, you pull open the drawer in search for a letter or a sign. Nothing.

Not bothering to close the drawer, you shift to check the mattress. Patting around the edges, feeling for a ripped seam, the wood slats inside creak in agony as a protest to the movements. You could only imagine how old they were. To your shock, you find a hidden letter inside one of the cracks. Internally groaning, you slip your hand inside the mattress, pulling it out, along with whatever insides the mattress had to spare.

Slipping the letter into your other hand, you shake your hand free of the yellow dust that coats it. “Dear Mr. Kilgore–” it starts, but you don’t get much further. Hearing a “you find anything?” from Charles in the other room.

“Yeah!” You call back, walking back through the door, your eyes briefly scanning over the letter. Charles rushes up to you, faster than he meant to. “What’s it say?” He inquires. “From the gang.” you mutter quietly, flipping the page over to check the back of it before turning it over again to read aloud.

“Dear, Mr. Kilgore. Your grand-nieces have just been lovely, it’s truly an honor to have met them. I appreciate you letting us borrow your cabin for the weekend, but I regret to inform you that we must be headed off now. There’s no shortage of adventures to find in the great state of New Hanover. I hear Flat Iron Lake is just lovely this time of year, lots of good fish to eat! Especially from that lovely dock you mentioned that is oh, so near Flatneck Station.

I do hope you would grace us with your presence once more, but we understand if it would be a burden to request such a thing so soon after your return home from France. Do wish your brothers the best from us, will you? Good health is always important to us, you know. Yours truly, Mr. and Mrs. Van Winkle.”

With a small click of your tongue, you hand off the letter to Charles, who accepts it without missing a beat. Even if you weren’t being actively chased by Pinkertons, it was still easier to lie about your identities. You watch his eyes reread everything before you walk right past him, headed for the door. It’s pretty damn clear where they went. Though, a thought lingers in the back of your mind. What chased them off? It had to have been something they couldn’t kill. John was a coward, but he was stupid enough to stand his ground when protecting the vulnerable..right?

“Back to New Hanover, then.” Charles remarks, following you to the door, slipping the letter into his pocket.Though, as soon as you reach the door, you pause. A familiar growling heard from the other side..just barely. Holding up one of your hands, you silently tell Charles to wait.

Leaning forward and pressing your ear to the wood to listen outside. Only for the door to swing open as someone, or something, forces its body weight against the wood, knocking you down in turn. Pinned underneath one of the heaviest undead you’ve come across, you struggle to reach your knife.

Several gunshots ring out inside the small cabin, making your ears ring. You hardly had time to register what just happened before it slumps forward with a hiss, oozing something akin to blood all over you. It smells foul. You could hardly keep yourself from vomiting, gagging and swallowing down the puke that manages to make its way into your mouth with a small shudder.

You completely forgot about Charles until he kicks the hefty zombie off of you, causing the twice now corpse to roll off and onto the floor. “You alright?” He asks, oddly calm as he extends a hand down to you, holstering his gun with his other hand. He hated using it, but sometimes it was more than necessary.

With a slow nod, you place your hand in his own, allowing yourself to be helped to your feet. Your legs feel foreign underneath you as you stare down at the dumb brute that had attacked you. But, you don’t have any time to process it. With a pat on your shoulder from Charles, he finally heads out the wide open door with you following close behind.

Letting out a loud whistle from between your teeth, not exactly wanting to stick your fingers in your mouth after wrestling with that undead brute. Your eyes flicking around your surroundings, hearing the sound of hooves approach. No doubt your horse and Taima got scared of the monster. That or something different.

“You’re quiet.” Charles states bluntly, looking you over, It’s not a judgmental comment– the opposite. He’s concerned. He’s used to your thoughts leaving your mouth before you had a chance to stop it. Though, he could understand. Naturally, anyone would be a bit shaken up. He was confident you would get through it. “Ain’t you always?” You retort without batting an eye, earning a dry chuckle from Charles. “You ain’t wrong.”

Your eyes dart over to movement in the treeline, growing a bit tense at first, only to relax at the sight of Taima’s nose, a hint of a smile crosses your lips at the sight. Nodding towards her as Charles approaches her, whispering a small praise under his breath. Walking past him, you spot your own horse just down the hill, slowly making your way down to it with Charles just on your tail.

Your horse whinnies as it sees you, it’s tail swishing back and forth. “Easy..” you coo, reaching up and gently petting its mane. Getting closer and stepping up into the stirrup, further heading down the hill, expecting Charles to follow suit, which he does.

“There was another letter inside.” Charles mumbles, riding alongside you. You glance over towards him, silently asking for an elaboration, before facing forward again. Both of you heading right back down from Ambarino and back into New Hanover. “From the owner’s husband. He was in the Confederacy.” He explains, a hint of distaste in his tone.

You nod silently in understanding, remembering the skeleton you and Arthur had buried not too long ago. You hardly even registered the sight of the setting sun until it shines right in your eyes, humming with discontent as you squint. Your posture straightens as you focus more and more on the sounds around you, until you follow Charles further into the woods, finally having a bit of respite.

It’s unfortunate, really. Not finding any sort of live animals..or any at all, really. The plains were oddly silent now, more than before. Undead animals haunted the fields, attacking anything in their sights with the intention to infect further. The remaining, living animals were all emaciated. The disruption to the food chain was detrimental to the entire ecosystem…clearly.

All seemed well on the long ride to Flatneck station, until you hear gunfire echoing loudly in the distance. Much to your dismay, Charles races forward, leaving you to follow behind in a huff. Coming across the small, abandoned trading post, you damn near sigh in relief. John is the one firing the gun, getting frustrated with Abigail and readjusting her hold on a rifle to properly aim a half broken beer bottle resting atop the railway tracks.

“John!” Charles calls with a hefty sigh of relief. John tears his gaze away from Abigail and over towards you and Charles. You were sure there was a small smile on his face out of relief. “Uncle Charles! Uncle Y/N!” You hear Jack call before the door to the small building flies open and the boy comes running out. You couldn’t imagine how scary it must be for him.

Both you and Charles dismount at the same time. Jack nearly tackles your leg into a hug, allowing you to ruffle his hair. “We didn’t find any food on our way.” Charles informs, to which John shakes his head with a heavy sigh. “We got a couple rabbits on our way out..ain’t much at all.” “Better than nothin’?” You offer, to which John offers a half-hearted shrug. As Jack lets go of you, you follow after him inside the small building, mostly to check up on the other women. It’s incredibly cramped as you step inside. Five women, excluding Abigail, with Jack and yourself. But beggars can’t be choosers.

Molly is staring at her reflection in the small mirror, gently pulling at her skin. Karen, Mary-Beth, and Tilly are quietly whispering amongst themselves. Though, Karen seems shaky and jittery. You can only imagine what her lack of alcohol is doing to her body.

“Y/N.” Susan greets with a curt nod, sitting just by the door, her shotgun laying over her lap. A terrifying sight on its own. “Miss.” You reply with a nod of your own. Gently nudging Jack away from you and further inside into protection.

“How y’all been holdin’ up?” You inquire. Stealing a wary glance over your shoulder to make sure Charles, John, and Abigail were fine just outside, before returning your gaze back down to Grimshaw.

“As good as we can be..” She sighs. Her weathered hands idly feeling over the metal firearm. “I imagine y’all saw the wreck the cabin was left in?” You nod, earning a pleased hum from Susan. “O’Driscoll showed up and tried to rob us when John went out for food. He brought a damn.. horde with him. We handled most of ‘em, had to leave when we started getting overrun. Barely had time for Mary-Beth to write that letter.” She explains.

It made sense. A bunch of kick-ass outlaws wouldn’t just..abandon their safehouse for no reason. Leaning back against the doorway, you let yourself slide down it until you’re finally sitting, just relaxing. Resting your eyes with a heavy sigh, you’ve had enough to do with today. Just in desperate need for a nap. Yet, you know you can’t sleep yet. Especially not here. But Gods.. you want to. You definitely need to. You’re not sure how long it’s been since you last slept.

“Y/N.” Charles calls. With a small hum of acknowledgement, you force your eyes open, looking up towards him. “You head back to camp.. I’ll stick around here.” Nodding along blankly, you force yourself to stand up again. Yawning widely as you step fully out of the trading post, passing John and Charles, giving each of them a pat on the shoulder and a small nod to Abigail, shuffling back to your horse and mounting up, setting off into the night.

The lingering burden of finding food for camp weighs on your mind. But, as you slowly trek through the dark forests, you find nothing. You could blame it on your exhaustion or the dark..or some sort of noise, but there’s nothing around. Not a soul except you. It nearly snaps you awake, feeling a chill creep down your spine and the feeling of eyes on you. Clicking your tongue off the roof of your mouth, commanding your horse to speed up. You don’t want to be out for any longer than you need to.

But, as you come back to camp, the ride feels shorter. Dismounting your horse with an exhausted sigh, hitching up the reins to one of the rails, right next to Gwydion, Trelawny’s horse. Not feeling like dealing with the magician at the moment, your eyes flick around camp until you spot Hosea on his bedroll. You offer him a shrug, signifying you didn’t find anything, earning a solemn nod in response.

Hearing the growls and hisses from young Jenny, Mac, and Davey, your day ends just as it started. Laying down on your bedroll, your muscles aching and your skin slick with sweat. Though, unlike last night, you allow sleep to claim you and hope that, at some point, things will be okay again.

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#rdr2 x reader #rdr2 x male reader #john marston x male reader #undead nightmare #undead nightmare 2

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