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viperify · 2 months ago

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AU | ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ!ᴛᴏᴍ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

˚.☾⋆✧ Blood Lust.

Short Summary: When you stir awake in the middle of the night, you notice Tom hasn’t come back home. Strange noises downstairs lead you to investigate, but what—or who—will you find as you do?

Warnings: 18+ only! Vampire!Tom, hunter and prey, biting, marking, blood play, nipple play, incredibly feral Tom Riddle, breeding kink, choking, praise, unprotected p in v, implied murder (side character).

A/N: FINALLY it’s out. Thank you so much for your patience, life’s a mess atm. Love you, always <3

wordcount: 3,2k

You wake.

Not by choice, but rather from the sound of a window shutting forcefully somewhere downstairs. You still, holding your breath as you listen intently, however, you are left waiting. All you can hear is complete silence. Silence that feels almost eerie now, in the dark. When you hear nothing suspicious for another minute, your focus shifts.

It must be around midnight, you think, and a quick look at the clock confirms your assumption.

It’s 23:50.

Then you hear it—the wind. You exhale sharply, closing your eyes again. It’s just the wind, you tell yourself. The wind must have shut a window downstairs. And just as you are about to drift off to sleep again—

Your eyes shoot open.

You had checked all the windows before going upstairs.

Your arm searches for something next to you—someone. However, a few taps later, and you realise the bed is cold and empty, sheets in the same place as they were when you went to bed.

He isn’t here.

Or better—he hasn’t come back.

You sigh in defeat, sitting upright on the soft mattress, the silky sheets crumpling under the shift of weight on them. Your palm covers your mouth as you yawn, slipping into your slippers you placed next to the bed. Your legs carry you towards the nearby window, and you rest your hands on the ledge as you glance into the starry night sky, which is clearer than usual today.

In that moment, realisation hits you.

It’s a full moon.

Another loud noise has your body tense involuntarily, tearing you from your thoughts—this time it’s something shattering on the ground, similar to a glass. You walk towards the door, about to turn the key when your arm drops again.

Every fiber in your body tells you no—stay in bed, don’t go and check. Why would you? Tom isn’t home, and if there really was someone, he wouldn’t want you to get yourself in danger. Right?

You shake your head. But there is another voice inside of you, clearer than your own, telling you to check—

So you do.

You turn the key in the lock, pushing the handle down before peering through the gap.

Darkness.

A sense of relief washes over you, and you step outside, a small candle in your left hand lighting your way. The wooden planks creak under your feet, and you stop every few steps to listen—but all that greets you is silence, silence that carries an intimidating undertone.

Even as you walk down the stairs, there is nothing too unusual. The dim glow of your candle does little to illuminate your surroundings, and it really does a better job exposing yourself to any possible intruder than the other way around, but it’s better than nothing. Finally, you reach the lowest level of your shared home, stepping onto the cold marble floor tiles.

Tick-tock.

A shiver runs down your spine as the ticking of the living room clock has you stop momentarily, an eerie tension forming in the air, growing thicker the closer you get to it. You have been wanting to get rid of the clock for a while, telling him how irritating the ticking is, especially when you pass it at night—but he is oddly attached to it.

So you kept it.

With the help of the flickering candlelight, you are able to make out an object on the floor near the living room—your favourite vase—that had dropped and shattered into a hundred small pieces. You sigh softly, crouching down to pick up the pieces, however, soon the inevitable happens—you cut yourself.

A sharp hiss spills over your lips as the porcelain breaks your skin, a drop of blood running down your finger. You curse yourself for not being more careful, looking around to find something you can wrap around the wound.

The emergency kit. In the kitchen.

Standing back up, you make your way, though you don’t get far before your breath catches in your throat and your body freezes in place. A pair of glowing, scarlet eyes advances towards you, their intensity burning through the night’s darkness better than any candle in your possession would.

You shouldn’t be scared. It’s Tom.

However, something about his presence feels different today. The energy he radiates seems stronger, needier. More feral, more unhinged. More dangerous.

Before you know it, he is there, right in front of you.

Though the light of your candle dims when he stands before you, it doesn’t take long for you to take in the state of him. Pupils dilated wide, intently focused on you, his breath coming out in short, ragged huffs. And there is blood. So much blood. The crimson color staining his lips and chin, seeping into the white cotton fabric of his robes. His eyes wander, stopping at the bleeding cut on your finger before they trail back up—slowly.

“Tom?” you whisper, eyebrows drawn together in confusion—and fear.

He doesn’t reply.

Instead, he reaches up to your cheek, brushing over the soft skin ever so lightly, barely even touching you at all. His thumb then wanders under your chin, slowly tilting your head up so you are met with his glowing red eyes. Still, he doesn’t speak—instead, he leans in, his lips meeting yours just to place a singular, feather-light kiss on them. Enough to make you taste what he’s been up to—although you’d rather not think about it. His hand leaves your cheek, grazing over your jaw and throat until he stops at your neck, pulling you in closer.

When his fingers press down on your pulse point softly, feeling your elevated, rushed heartbeat under his touch, a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. Tom’s head dips then, his hot breath skimming over your ear, the tension between the both of you building rapidly. And then, a small, an almost too silent huff leaves his lips—

“Run.”

Now, obviously, this isn’t meant to be a game for you to win. It has never been. With his heightened senses and supernatural strength, you cannot escape him, and you never will. Both of you are aware of that. But the thrill of it all—it is intoxicating for both of you. So whenever he does tell you to run—you are more than happy to obey.

So you take a step back, and his arm drops to his side. One more quick glance at him, how his chest rises and falls in anticipation, how his lips are slightly parted, revealing his sharp fangs—

And then you run, as fast as your legs carry you.

He gives you a head start, knowing you won’t make it far either way. It’s dark, but he doesn’t need light to find you. The smell of your fresh blood in the air is enough for him to locate you, even if you were a mile away. He could distinguish your blood from a thousand others, and God, he would always find you.

After all, you are still his favourite prey.

With that thought, he turns to leave the kitchen, following the soft sound of your heartbeat. He can feel how quick it beats, trying its hardest to supply your body with enough oxygen. The closer he gets to you—now walking up the stairs—the stronger the scent of your blood becomes. The more he craves you.

You shriek quietly as the door to your shared bedroom flies open, your breathing stilling in an attempt to keep him at bay for just a little longer. Though you know it’s over when you hear a low scoff from outside of your closet, the door opening as a strong hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you out.

“Too easy,” he growls, lips crashing onto yours, capturing you in a heated kiss. “Too fucking easy.” Suddenly his hands are all over your body, practically tearing your clothes off your body. The buttons of your blouse pop off the fabric, clattering as they hit the floor, rolling off. You barely have time to complain before you stand bare before him, and his hungry eyes are drinking you in.

Tom takes a step closer, and you squirm slightly as his cold hand softly trails over your delicate skin, pulling you in as he reaches your waist. “Been thinking about you all day. Now you are mine.” He purrs, smirking against your lips before he kisses you again, biting down on your lower lip, drawing a soft gasp from you.

“Who— who was it?” You breathe, gaze lowering to the bloodstains on his clothes, a sly grin forming on his face at your question.

“Remember Knockturn Alley? How his eyes lingered on you?” He answers, trailing kisses along your jaw.

Of course. What else.

You sigh. “Yes, I do.”

“Mhm.” He mumbles, lips back on yours, not giving you the chance to question him further.

Never breaking the kiss, he pushes you backwards until you are sprawled out on the now cool, silky sheets, not wasting another second before he joins you. One hand softly wrapped around your throat, he tilts your head to gain better access to your neck, his ragged breaths hot on your skin as his head dips, greedily trailing kisses along your jugular vein.

Your soft moans only seem to spur him on, sucking marks into your skin, your neck, collarbone, and breasts until you are nothing more than a whining mess beneath him. Only then does he pull back slightly, humming lowly in approval as his glowing eyes wander over the artwork of bruises he’s left behind on your skin.

He savours the way you melt under his touch, so good and pliant for him, anticipation building at the thought of finally tasting you. “Doing so well for me,” he mutters, brushing a strand of hair from your face, before dipping back down to continue his ministrations.

Then, for the first time that night, you feel his fangs on your skin, grazing over your neck ever so lightly—a gentle reminder of what’s to come, of the flaming hunger beneath his composure. Your body twitches at the contact, breath coming out shakily as you cling onto his shoulder, feeling his muscles under your touch.

A smirk creeps onto his face at your reaction, placing an open-mouthed kiss directly onto your pulse point. “So afraid,” he drawls, tilting your head just a tiny bit more, before you feel his pointed teeth again, not yet piercing your skin, but lingering, waiting.

“I am not—“ you try to defend yourself, however, his palm closes over your mouth, cutting you off.

“No more talking back.”

As his instinct takes over, you feel it. The familiar sting of his fangs sinking into the tender flesh of your neck, drawing the first drops of blood with a breathy groan as he tastes you on his tongue, some of it trickling down onto the sheets and your cleavage. A cozy warmth spreads through your body, easing the pain, intensifying the pleasure he is providing you with.

“Tom— oh God—“ you whimper, hands tangling in his brunette locks, softly tugging on his roots as he continues feeding on you, soft sucking noises filling your shared bedroom as he greedily drinks your blood, a tingling sensation spreading through your body.

But before he gets too lost in the ecstasy, he pulls back with a low growl, fangs forcefully retracting from your neck. For a moment he just glances down at you, chest heaving with ragged breaths. “Taste yourself,” he breathes, head dipping down until he’s a mere inch away from your lips. “I want you to taste yourself. How fucking sweet you taste for me.”

He doesn't give you much of a choice, because as soon as you open your mouth to voice your complaint, his lips are on yours, the metallic taste of your own blood flooding your senses. His hand tightens around your throat, cutting off just enough air to leave you dizzy, while the effects of his bite send your mind spiraling. Your knuckles turn white from how hard they are gripping the sheets, your body struggling to process the overwhelming sensations all at once.

But there is something you do notice. Very clearly even.

How painfully hard he is. How he can’t help but grind himself against you.

“T-Tom, please,” you whimper as he slowly pulls back, admiring the mess he’s left on your lips, thumb shakily swiping over them.

“You are ovulating.”

“I know, I—“

He groans. A low, almost desperate sound somewhere from the back of his throat. “Fuck, sweetheart. You know I can’t— fuck— hold back. Not when—“

Merlin help you.

Your hand is on his neck, never breaking eye contact as you pull him closer once more. Shaking your head, you place a kiss on his tensed jaw. “Don’t hold back.”

Another sharp inhale, and his hand is back around your throat, pressing down, not to restrict your airflow, because you can breathe very well—as well as you could breathe under the effect of your vampire’s bite—but rather your blood flow.

“Don’t wish for something you cannot handle,” he warns lowly, but you shake your head again. “God, Tom, please— I need you, just— take me.”

“Fuck—“

With your mind already blurry as a result of his bite, you only faintly notice the sound of his belt hitting the wooden planks of your floor with a thud, followed by the rest of his clothes. Before you realise it, he slips between your thighs, body pressing flush against yours. His lips wrap around your nipple, gently dragging his sharp teeth over the sensitive bud, drawing a sharp gasp from you at the intense sensation, which sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

It doesn’t take long until you feel him prodding at your soaked entrance, pressing another kiss to your lips before he pushes inside of you with a low groan, and it’s rough, it’s careless, mirroring his burning hunger for you. He doesn’t wait, no, he buries himself to the hilt with one singular, powerful thrust, tip brushing against your sensitive cervix, your brows drawing together at the sudden, sharp yet delicious stretch on your walls. A choked moan rips from your lips, body arching beneath him, which is apparently sign enough for him to pull back slightly, only to thrust back inside harder.

His head dips, breath hot against your neck as he continues sucking and biting marks into your skin before his fangs break through your flesh once more, a low, satisfied hum falling over his lips as he stills his hunger on his favourite human—you.

He soon sets a steady rhythm, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as his tip brushes over your most sensitive spot with every thrust. The flickering candlelight in the otherwise dark room illuminates the sharp features of his face each time he raises his head to take a breath, your blood dripping down his chin over the sides of his neck.

“Can’t get enough of you, fuck—“ he groans, picking up his pace when he hears your soft moans, his fingertips sinking into your waist, hard enough to leave bruises as he pulls you back into his thrusts, stopping your body from moving forwards with every snap of his hips.

Few things in this world can make Tom Riddle lose his self-restraint.

But the way you squeeze him so tight, walls fluttering as you try to accommodate his length, soft whimpers falling over your lips, all while the flavour of your blood has his mind spinning with pure ecstasy—certainly has him on the verge.

Because fuck—you are just so gorgeous, he thinks. Covered in his marks and his only, painting a canvas of his lust on your body, he just needs you to be his, forever. The bite would come, the bite to turn you into a vampire yourself, but for now—he’ll still savour the irreplaceable taste of your blood. Instead, he’ll make you his in other ways.

Tom’s eyes darken at the thought, lips slightly parted, and suddenly he has a desire other than satiating his primal hunger for your blood—he wants, no, needs to fill you—stake his claim on you.

You can practically feel the last bits of restraint he has left fading, messily feeding on you while he buries his cock deep within your walls with every sharp, perfectly angled snap of his hips into yours, deliciously dragging over all the right spots as he pounds into you relentlessly.

“Too much, Tom— please—“ you whimper, just as your consciousness threatens to slip, ears ringing and vision growing cloudy. He is barely able to stop himself in time from draining more of your precious blood, fangs tearing from your skin with a low, guttural groan. He tilts your head then, having you meet his strict, intense gaze. “Not yet, look at me. Fuck— look at me as I fill you up.”

Only with half-lidded eyes do you manage to do so, legs weakly wrapped around him as he takes what he needs, mercilessly slipping in and out of you, his brunette curls sticking to his damp forehead as he chases his release.

“You are going to be good for me and take it,” he pants, thrusts growing more erratic as you feel him twitch inside of you.

“Every.” thrust “Last.” thrust “Drop.” thrust

“Yes— fuck please, Tom.” You gasp, and with a few more sharp snaps of his hips, he spills his release deep inside of you, groaning lowly as he paints your walls with thick, white ropes of his cum.

You too come undone with a weak shudder of your body, your walls fluttering around his length, hands slipping from his shoulders. Pleasure and pain melt into one, stars dancing in front of your eyes as your vision grows blurrier with each passing second.

Tom lets you regain your consciousness, staying situated between your thighs, his cock still buried deep within your walls as he gently laps his tongue against the puncture wounds on your neck, cleaning most of the dried crimson liquid from your skin.

The next thing you remember is his fingertips tenderly massaging shampoo into your scalp, warm water surrounding your sore body as he has you resting against his chest in the bathtub. The scent of fresh rose petals and orchids fills your nostrils with a deep breath of yours. You hum softly, eyes fluttering closed again, letting him take care of you.

A flicker of satisfaction sparks in his eyes as he dries you off in front of a mirror, gently patting the towel over the bite marks and bruises he’s left all over your cleavage.

“So gorgeous, covered in my marks. And all mine.”

“All yours.”

tags: @belladonnaheartsthemoon, @riddlebella, @jo1818

—

thank you for reading! <3 feedback and reblogs are appreciated. 💜

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minniesmutt · 9 months ago

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☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝

☾ ━━━ GENRE: monster au, monster fucking, smut, 18+ MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

☾ ━━━ WEREWOLF!BANG CHAN x BUNNY! READER ⇥ CONTENT: WEREWOLF!CHAN, BUNNY!READER, MENTION OF HEAT/RUT CYCLES, BREEDING, MULTIPLE ROUNDS, PRAISE/DEGRADING, CREAMPIE, KNOTS, ETC... ⇥ WC: 2K

☾ ━━━ GRIM REAPER!LEE KNOW X READER ⇥ CONTENT: GRIM REAPER! LEE KNOW, HUMAN!READER, HEAVY TOPICS (DRUGS, DEATH, OD), UNPROTECTED SEX, FINGERING, HAND JOB, CREAMPIE, PET NAMES, ETC... ⇥ WC: 2.2K

☾ ━━━ INCUBUS!CHANGBIN X HUMAN!READER ⇥ CONTENT: INCUBUS!CHANGBIN, HUMAN!READER, BREEDING, MARKING, UNPROTECTED SEX, SPIT, MULTIPLE ROUNDS, ETC... ⇥ WC: 2.1K

☾ ━━━ ALIEN! HYUNJIN X HUMAN!READER ⇥ CONTENT: ALIEN! HYUNJIN, HUMAN!READER, PLANETARY SCIENTIST!READER, TENTACLES, BREEDING, SEMI-PUBLIC, PRAISE/DEGRADATION, ETC... ⇥ WC: 2.8K

☾ ━━━ GHOST!HAN X HUMAN!READER ⇥ CONTENT: GHOST!HAN, HUMAN!READER, MEDIUM!READER, MASTURBATION, EXHIBITIONISM/VOYEURISM, SEX TOY, MULTIPLE ROUNDS ⇥ WC: 1.8K

☾ ━━━ DEMON!FELIX X ANGEL!READER ⇥ CONTENT: DEMON!FELIX, ANGEL!READER, CORRUPTION, BONDAGE, UNPROTECTED SEX, CUM SHOT, ETC... ⇥ WC: 2.4K

☾ ━━━ VAMPIRE!SEUNGMIN X FAE!READER ⇥ CONTENT: VAMPIRE!SEUNGMIN, FAE!READER, FIRST TIME/VIRGINITY TAKING, BITING, BLOOD/BLOOD KINK, UNPROTECTED SEX ⇥ WC: 2.5K

☾ ━━━ SIREN!I.N X PIRATE! READER ⇥ CONTENT: SIREN!I.N, HUMAN!PIRATE!READER, MENTIONS OF MURDER BRAINWASHING, BREEDING, ETC... ⇥ WC: 2.1K

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vicorices · 23 days ago

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writting mostly about arcane atm. please only interact with my content if you're over 18+ since most of this is smut, dni if you're cismen or biphobic. my requests are open and i write about a lot so ask, just don't be weird on my mailbox.

please do not distribute my work without permission, do not repost in other websites or claim it as your own.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ cherry waves, soft!dom vi

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ pitfighter!vi fingering you after a fight

˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚ lazy fucking violet

ོ༘₊⁺ high sex w/dealer!vi pt.1 // pt.2

✧ ⋆｡˚ vampire!cait using you as a bloodbag...

‧₊˚♡ daywalker, vampire!cait x hunter!vi x reader

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ controversial collage gf! cait

⋅˚.⋆☾⁺ supercharged, amab sevika

⋆｡𖦹°‧ safe heaven, ex!girlfriend sevika

₊˚⊹♡ dive in, wife!vika

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚ roller baby!, roller!derby au sfw

˚ ༘ ♡ ambessa making you ride her... // amab

#arcane #arcane smut #arcane x reader #18+ mdni #arcane au #arcane drabbles #smut #masterlist

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moon-mage · 7 months ago

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So Jamil won and honestly, I agree. The concept of Jamil being the vampire slayer verses Leona and Vil as vampires would really align more with his character and be a fun crossover. I still had some ideas for Leona and Vil as slayers so I might blab about that some other time but Jamil the vampire slayer will get his own post and drabblings and art <3 I’m still super inspired so hopefully I’ll do that this weekend! It’ll be his late birthday gift :3

#twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #leona kingscholar #jamil viper #disney twisted wonderland #twst #n2 squad #leovil #villeo #jamivil #leojami #leona x jamil x vil #twst disney #disney twst #my art #twst fanart #twst wonderland #slayer!au #☾vampire!au

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hoo-n-i-ki · 2 months ago

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Cold One. (Fin)

A vampire’s love is eternal—it transcends lifetimes that others can’t live.

PAIRING - Volturi!Riki x Cullen!fem!reader

GENRE - Twilight AU

CHAPTER WC - 5886

WARNINGS - Vampires, shapeshifters, graphic violence, death, suggestive/fade to black. (This is a complete work of fiction and is in no way a representation of Riki/Enha).

☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾

Aro lifts you with ease, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement. Cruel, cruel amusement.

Riki jumps, escaping the two tigers he’s facing.

It’s pure instinct, pure desperation, but Caius intercepts him, blocking his path. Riki snarls, his muscles coiled like a spring ready to snap, but Aro only chuckles.

“How tragic, my dear Riki,” Aro muses, his voice velvety smooth despite the carnage surrounding him. “Look how far you’ve fallen. A heart where there should be none. You would betray your own for this girl and her accomplice? Pray tell, is she your mate?”

Riki struggles against Caius’s grip, his ruby eyes burning with an emotion you’ve never seen before.

Fear. For you.

“She’s not the one who needs to die.” His voice is low, trembling with rage. “You’re here to kill me.”

Through his distraction, he lets the tigers’ minds go.

No.

But the tigers stay where they are.

“Caius, Master Caius, kill me. Let her and the Cullens go.”

“Oh, we will in due time,” Caius growls.

“But it is only fair you witness me take someone from you, dear Riki, is it not?” Aro’s smile widens, his fingers twitching around your throat. “After all, when you left, you took my prized Jane and Alec with you, and she was meant to die long ago, regardless,” he tsks.

Jasper moves, a blur of motion as he crashes into Caius, tearing him away from Riki. A split second is all Riki needs to break free, rushing for you—

But Aro tightens his grip.

“I wouldn’t,” Aro hums, lifting you even higher, causing the stony skin of your throat to start cracking.

Crack. By crack. By crack.

Alice screams your name.

Carlisle and Esme move in tandem, flanking Aro from either side, but Marcus intercepts them, knocking them back with a thunderous blow.

Riki closes his eyes.

Aro stiffens. His grip on you falters—just barely.

“Get out,” he hisses at Riki.

But Riki doesn’t reply. He’s trying his hardest to focus.

You can see it in the tension of his shoulders, the way his fingers twitch. He’s reaching, pulling, fighting to invade Aro’s mind.

But it won’t work. You know it won’t, because this past week, you were told all there is to know about the Volturi.

Aro is over 3000 years old. If Riki had centuries to hone his skills, Aro had several millennia.

The moment Riki is lost in his concentration, Caius moves faster than a blur. His hand snaps around Riki’s throat, yanking him back with an unforgivable force.

Riki chokes. His eyes fly open—but it’s too late.

Caius snarls, his face twisted in pure fury. “Pathetic boy,” he seethes, tightening his grip. Riki claws at his wrist, struggling, but Caius is older. Stronger.

Riki is losing.

And you’re helpless.

Your knees buckle, and the world around you slows to a dull hum, the chaos fading as a sense of peace washes over you.

This is it—the end.

Goodbye to Misora, who stood by you and made your last couple of months enjoyable.

Goodbye to the Cullens, who saved you the first time, gave you shelter, and let you feel like you belonged even when you didn’t deserve it.

Goodbye to Riki.

Riki.

You wish you had more time.

A wish. A regret. A gradual fall never spoken aloud.

And finally, a hello.

Hello to the parents you haven’t seen in twenty years.

Hello to the light you pray will still be willing to take you in despite the darkness that temporarily washed over your soul.

“This is not what we agreed on!”

A blur of fur. Glowing streaks of amber eyes. The crackling of bones as four legs move upright, shifting to two legs and two arms, covered by light honey skin.

Where the tiger who goes by the name Jay once prowled at the edge of the battlefield, a black-haired human boy you’ve never seen before now stands, eyes burning with fury.

“But our agreement was to remove the threat from your little town, was it not?” Caius speaks. “The newborn might be in the Cullens’ coven, but she is just as dangerous as Riki and his sister. Look at her red eyes.”

Jay’s eyes flick from you, to your captor, to Riki and his, and to your family being held back behind you.

Please.

“You’re right. We see the red eyes.”

Jay shifts back. Heeseung growls—a deep, guttural sound that rumbles through the clearing. Behind them, the rest of the tigers step forward slowly. Deliberately.

Sunghoon’s lip curls over his teeth. Jungwon’s claws extend. Jake’s shoulders tense, fingers flexing.

“Finish the job,” Aro growls, his minor disorientation making him lose his decorum.

The tigers don’t need to be told twice—they’re already moving.

Jay lunges.

Straight for Caius.

Caius is fast, but Jay is unexpected. He slams into him, tearing Riki from his grasp, sending them both crashing into the dirt.

The Volturi are no longer the predators. And you are no longer the prey.

“Traitors!” Caius spits, dodging Jay’s next attack, but he’s outnumbered.

The six tigers are everywhere. And even better?

The Cullens who were out hunting return with an unmatched vigor.

A roar splits through the night as Emmett crashes through the trees, his massive frame barreling straight into Marcus, sending them both tumbling. Rosalie follows, her hands catching his throat before twisting—

A sickening crack.

Riki twists to face Caius, finishing the job on behalf of the Baekho clan. He paralyzes him, while Heeseung tears his throat out.

Edward and Bella collide with Aro. His grip on you weakens, so you move while you still can.

You run straight toward Riki.

He reaches for you, arms about to pull you close, but—

“You think I’d let you have all the fun?”

A blur of motion. A flash of familiar long black hair.

Misora.

She bursts into the clearing, her crimson eyes burning, her fangs bared.

Edward is fast. Bella is strong. And Misora is Aro’s downfall.

She strides forward, her eyes locked onto Aro as he fends off Edward’s blows.

“You know, Aro,” she purrs, “you’ve had a long reign. But even the greatest kings fall eventually.”

Aro snarls, dodging Edward’s next strike, but he hesitates. Just for a second.

And Misora smiles.

“Did you by any chance think I was powerless?” she taunts.

Aro’s body stiffens. His expression contorts.

Then—he staggers.

His red eyes dart around wildly, as if trying to see something that isn’t there.

“What are you doing, lowly nomad?” he hisses.

Misora tilts her head. “Shutting you up.”

Riki watches, frozen, as his former master stumbles.

His movements become sluggish, his expression turning from rage—to confusion.

Aro reaches for his head as if trying to grasp at something that isn’t there.

And Riki, beside you, is just as confused.

“What—” His voice is hoarse as he steps closer, gaze snapping between Misora and Aro. “What are you doing to him?”

Misora smiles. A slow, dangerous smile. “I’m stealing away every last bit of his mental fortitude.” She turns to her brother with a raised eyebrow. “You’re welcome.”

So Misora’s power… compliments her brother’s.

You see the moment the realization clicks into Riki’s head, in the way his eyes regain their fire, in the way he takes a deliberate step forward.

He takes his sister’s invitation.

Aro gasps.

His fingers twitch at his sides, his head jerking slightly—like his own body is no longer listening to him.

“You—” Aro chokes, but the rest of his words die in his throat.

Because without his centuries of control, Riki is inside his mind. It’s like he’s finally able to invade a kingdom without a king.

Aro’s body stiffens completely.

His own hands twitch at his sides.

Then—they rise.

His lips part in a silent scream as his fingers curl around his own throat, his grip tightening—

Harder.

Crack.

His head yanks violently to the side.

Crack.

His arms twist.

Crack.

With a sickening, final wrench, Aro’s own hands rip his head clean from his shoulders.

His red eyes—filled with terror—stare at Riki.

Finally, Aro falls.

Carlisle steps forward, his usually gentle face is hardened with resolve as he carries a torch in one hand. The flames flicker, casting an eerie light across the battlefield.

The Volturi’s bodies lay sprawled in unnatural angles, a testament to the brutality that just unfolded. Aro’s lifeless head is still locked in the wide-eyed expression of terror, his crimson eyes frozen in the moment of his demise. The others are equally still, their once-immense power now nothing more than lifeless husks.

Without hesitation, he lowers the torch to the first Volturi corpse—Caius’s body. The flame flickers and dances, igniting the exposed flesh, the smell of burning vampire flesh acrid in the air.

Riki watches, his eyes never leaving Aro’s head, his face a mask of quiet satisfaction, though his fists are still clenched. Misora stands nearby, her expression hardened, but there’s a flicker of something softer behind her gaze.

Carlisle moves methodically, his eyes sharp as he turns to Marcus’s body. Finally, Aro. As the final body catches fire and the flames roar louder, you stand there, surrounded by those who fought for you—those you care about most.

Riki turns to you, his gaze softer now, though his expression still carries the strain of everything that just happened. “We won,” he whispers, voice still hoarse from the struggle. “It’s over.”

Is this it? Is this the flicker of hope you’ve been longing for all these years? Beckoned by this beautiful’s man deep voice and carried by the scent of smoke engulfing the clearing?

You don’t need to inhale, none of you do, but it’s a smell that ensures that they’ll never rise again, so you savor it.

But then, breaking through the heavy stillness, comes a low, rumbling growl. It starts as a faint vibration in the ground, a guttural sound that seems to come from the depths of the forest. The tigers. Even they are inhaling the thick smoke, their animal instincts drawn to the scent of burning flesh.

For a brief moment, the tension is suffocating. Riki’s muscles stiffen, and his eyes dart toward the source of the rumbling. Misora’s posture shifts, a subtle but noticeable shift as she prepares herself for anything. A flicker of fear in her eyes betrays her calm exterior, but there’s also determination there. Your family have come so far, fought so hard, but it isn’t over yet, is it?

The growls grow louder, and you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as the tension in the air becomes palpable. You can sense the change in the atmosphere—another threat, still present, lurking. The tigers, the ones who’ve been an uneasy ally throughout this, are not actually on your side. They’ve been here with a mission of their own. They believe the treaty is forfeit by having Riki and Misora around…

But before any movement can be made, the heavily striped tiger—Jungwon—slowly steps forward. His powerful form shifts and cracks, bones realigning with a sickening sound. In an instant, he stands before you, human once again, dressed only in the shadows cast by the surrounding trees, and already perfectly healthy, perfectly healed like you didn’t manage to injure him to begin with. His sharp eyes scan the clearing, assessing the situation, his body still radiating a tense energy.

The other tigers, their eyes wary and calculating, tense up. Their movements are slow, deliberate, as if testing whether the situation will turn hostile once more. The clearing is once again on edge, the air crackling with the energy of lingering uncertainty.

Jungwon doesn’t speak at first, but his gaze flickers to the burning bodies of the Volturi, to the smoldering remains that still hiss and crackle in the fire. He looks from Riki to Misora, his expression dark.

“We came here for one reason.” His words are clipped, sharp. “To kill you.”

A quiet tension fills the air as his words land, but then, as if to dispel the weight of them, he adds, “But it seems… at our core, we’re more alike than we thought.”

With that, he steps back, signaling to the others. They turn, almost in unison, retreating into the shadows of the trees, their movements swift and fluid. For a moment, it feels as if nothing has changed, as if the battle is far from over.

But the retreat is final. The tigers vanish back into the forest, leaving behind only the fading rumble of their presence and the promise that this fight is done. For now.

☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾

Riki enters one of Cullen house’s various unused bathrooms, more than ready to wash away the last remnants of the battle. The proof that it happened. Proof that they survived.

His body aches, though not from injury—he heals too fast for that. It’s exhaustion, the kind that sinks into his bones, deeper than any wound. His mind replays the fight in sharp flashes: the Volturi’s lifeless bodies, the fire in Carlisle’s hands, the scent of burning vampire flesh. And then the tigers—the way their growls had rumbled through the clearing, how, for a second, it had felt like they weren’t done fighting after all.

And then her.

Through it all, she was there. (Y/N).

He turns on the hot water, and watches it cascade in steady streams. He presses his hands against the tile of the walls, head bowed as the steam curls. He tries to distract himself with the motions, but there’s no stopping his thoughts from drifting to her. The way she fought, despite her tangible terror. The way she ran to him. The way she looked at him when the flames consumed Aro’s body—like she wasn’t sure if she could let herself believe that it’s really over.

And maybe he wasn’t sure, either.

A sound. Faint, but distinct. Footsteps just outside the bathroom door.

His head lifts slightly, eyes narrowing. He knows her steps anywhere. They haven’t even known each other for two weeks, but all of his senses are now attuned to her, so even if her footsteps barely make a sound, even if her presence is subtle—he just knows.

And she stops. She just knows that he’s the one in there, too.

For a second, he wonders if she’ll knock. If she’ll say something first.

She doesn’t. But she doesn’t walk away, either.

So he walks up to the door and speaks. “You’re still wandering around.” His voice is rougher than he expected, still worn from the night.

A pause. Then, from the other side of the door, “I’m feeling restless.”

He huffs out something that isn’t quite a laugh. “I get that. I figured a shower might help.”

A beat of silence. He can picture her standing there, arms crossed, maybe leaning against the doorframe. Thinking. He wonders if she’s listening to the water running, if she’s imagining him like this—tired, drained, but somehow still wired.

Then, softly, she asks, “Would it?”

He exhales, watching the steam curl upward. “Not really.”

She doesn’t say anything at first, and for a moment, he wonders if she’ll leave. But then—

“I don’t think it ever will,” she admits. “Not completely.”

His fingers curl slightly against the tile near the door. “Yeah.” He swallows. “I keep thinking about it. How close it was. How easily it could’ve gone wrong.”

“We won,” she reminds him, her voice steady.

He closes his eyes. “I know. But that doesn’t make it stop.”

Another pause. Then, softer this time, “Make what stop?”

His grip tightens against the wall. He doesn’t want to say it. But for her, he’ll spill his truths. It’s some effect nobody but her has had on him.

“The feeling,” he murmurs. “That it’s not really over. That something else is coming.”

She’s quiet for a long time. Long enough that he almost opens the door, almost steps out to face her.

“Maybe it is,” she finally says. “For now, at least.”

For now.

He sighs and turns around to tilt his head back against the wall. He doesn’t know why those words make something settle in him, even just a little.

For now.

It’s not a promise. But maybe it’s enough.

Riki stays quiet for a moment, letting the sound of the still-flowing water fill the space between them. He feels her still standing there, a pure mind he simply brushed his power against.

Just to feel her. He’ll never use it on her, nor on anyone he cares about ever again.

Misora’s face of betrayal is still imprinted into his thoughts.

Then, her voice, quieter now. “Back there… when Aro looked at me. When he asked you if I was your mate.” A pause. “What did he mean?”

His fingers still.

The words didn’t register at the time, but now she reminded him.

Now, and for a solid minute, it’s all he can think about.

His mate… could she really be? Does he deserve to have one?

“You don’t know?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking.”

A small smirk tugs at his lips despite himself. That’s just like her. Finding ways to make him smile. Tearing down his brick wall of stoicism.

He leans forward, crossing his arms. “It’s… complicated.”

“I think I can handle complicated.”

He closes his eyes. “A mate is…” He exhales sharply, trying to find the right words. “You know vampires feel everything more strongly than humans. But vampires are also unchanging. So when we fall for someone? It’s more than love. It’s something deeper, something that gets ingrained into our very being. When we find our mate, that’s it. It’s irreversible. It’s…” He hesitates. “Forever.”

Silence.

Not for the first time around her, Riki wonders if he’s said too much. If he should’ve held back, softened it somehow. But then—

“Forever,” she repeats, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah.”

Another pause. Then, hesitantly, “Is that… could I be that to you?”

Riki’s heart—silent, still—somehow feels like it should be racing. He takes a second to look up at the ceiling, feeling something he hasn’t felt in centuries.

The urge to pray to Ebisu, the Shinto deity of fortune.

He doesn’t remember much from his old life, not even the language, but lately he’s been feeling more and more human.

Now, he could make this easier on himself and lie. He could deflect. But she’s standing on the other side of this door, asking him something real. Something she deserves an answer to.

So he gives it to her.

“I think you could be, yes.”

The words lingers in the air between them. Vague, but just as heavy.

He waits. A shift in her stance. And then, softly—

“Oh.”

Just that. Just oh.

Riki huffs out a quiet laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Not exactly the reaction I was expecting.”

She lets out something that sounds almost like a laugh. “I just… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

She’s quiet again. Then, barely audible, “How would you know?”

He shrugs even though she can’t see it. “It‘s supposed to be something you just feel. I guess I… felt something for you from the first time we spoke, but I never thought I would…. I didn’t put two and two together.”

A shaky inhale from the other side of the door. Then, after a long moment, “Okay.”

It’s not a rejection. It’s not disbelief. It’s just okay.

Riki lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He expected more—questions, hesitation, maybe even denial. But she’s still just standing there on the other side of this thin wall.

A smile tugs at his lips. “Just okay?” he murmurs, the words slipping past his lips like silk. “That’s all you have to say?”

She shifts on the other side, and he can almost picture her expression, the way her brows might furrow, the way she might chew on her bottom lip, thinking.

“Well,” she finally says, her voice quieter now, laced with something softer. “What else am I supposed to say?”

He shouldn’t push. He shouldn’t—

But what if he throws caution to the wind just once? See what happens if he chases happiness rather than duty?

“Come here, then,” he says, a hesitant invitation.

Silence.

“I—”

Riki reaches for the door handle, twisting it just enough to crack it open, enough to see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes—but also something else. Curiosity. Intrigue.

“Scared?” His voice dips lower, something between teasing and reserve so similar to her own it makes her comfortable.

She swallows, and he watches the movement of her throat, watches the way her fingers twitch at her sides.

But she steps forward.

It’s happening.

The second she’s within reach, he tugs her into the steam-filled space, but through their excitement, they tumble back together into the walk-in shower, the warmth of the water swallowing them both. The thin fabric of her shirt clings to her instantly, darkening as it absorbs the water, molding to the curves of her body. His eyes drop, flickering over her, taking in every inch, every tiny shift in her expression.

She shivers—not from cold, but from him.

Riki reaches out, trailing wet fingers over the line of her jaw, tilting her face up so she has no choice but to meet his gaze.

“You sure about this?”

She doesn’t hesitate this time. “Yes.”

That’s all he needs.

This is all he needs. Since the past couple of weeks.

Since the past couple hundred years.

He doesn’t want to waste another second before closing the space between them. But something tugs at him.

200 years of conditioning.

His fingers tense slightly against her skin—not because he doesn’t want to—fuck, he wants this more than anything—but because they’re still standing on the edge of something neither of them fully understand. Because this is new, because he’s spent centuries guarding himself against anything that could make him weak.

And he’s giving someone the power to break him.

His hands still. His jaw clenches, restraint warring with the part of him that just wants to feel.

She notices. Her brows furrow slightly, her fingers ghosting over his forearm. “Riki?”

Her voice is softer now, questioning. Searching.

He closes his eyes briefly, exhaling. If he stops now, she’ll understand. He knows she will.

But then she shifts closer, her body pressing against his, warmth meeting warmth. And it shatters him.

The restraint, the doubts—gone.

He opens his eyes, and before she can say anything, his lips finally find hers, slow at first, deliberate—like he’s giving her time to pull away, to rethink, to stop him. But she doesn’t. Instead, she presses closer, her fingers finding their way to his shoulders, gripping, grounding herself. She glides her lips against his full ones, teasing, tasting.

The water cascades over them, heat seeping into their skin, but it’s nothing compared to the fire burning between them.

Riki’s hands move, slowly sliding down her sides, memorizing. His fingers find the hem of her shirt, his touch featherlight against her skin. He tugs at it, just enough to test her reaction, to see if she’ll stop him.

She doesn’t.

The shirt is gone in a matter of seconds, discarded somewhere behind them, leaving her standing before him, glistening under the soft light filtering through the steam. Riki lets out a quiet curse, his eyes drinking her in, lingering on the way droplets of water trace paths down her skin.

“You’re—” He exhales sharply, like he’s struggling to find words, like for once, he’s at a loss. “So damn beautiful.”

Her blood orange eyes gleam, but she doesn’t shy away. If anything, she tilts her chin up slightly, as if daring him to keep going.

And so he does.

His lips find her neck, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses down the slope of her shoulder. His hands settle on her waist, strong and firm, holding her in place as he explores, as he takes his time.

She gasps when his teeth graze over a sensitive spot just below her ear, her fingers digging into his skin. He smirks against her neck. “That’s a nice sound,” he murmurs, his voice thick. “I think I wanna hear more of it.”

She barely has time to react before he’s backing her up against the cool tile, his body pressing into hers, leaving no space between them. The contrast of the heat from the water and the chill of the wall sends a shiver down her spine, but Riki is there, anchoring her, warming her, setting every inch of her alight.

And he’s not done yet. He doesn’t think he ever will be.

☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾

The sunlight barely peaks through the dense forest, the morning mist still lingering, as you hang around the spacious living room of the Cullen house. You stand by the window, watching the shifting shadows of the trees, lost in thought. Your mind is a tangled web of everything that’s happened in the past day. The Volturi. The tigers.

Riki.

Just then, a soft knock at the door makes you stiffen. Carlisle walks up to open it, and there he is—Dr. Park.

His eyes sweep the room, landing first on the Cullens, then on Riki and Misora, before finally resting on you. There’s no surprise in his eyes, just a quiet acknowledgement of the tension that lingers.

“I see the house is still… more crowded than I anticipated,” Dr. Park says awkwardly. His voice is calm, but there’s a hint of something else beneath it—something like resignation.

Edward stands by the fireplace, his hands clasped together, his face unreadable. “You’re not welcome here,” he says firmly, his voice lacking any warmth.

Dr. Park doesn’t seem bothered by the coldness. He just steps further into the room, uninvited but not deterred. His six tiger shifters follow behind him, their human forms nothing short of imposing, both the two you saw last night, and the four others. They stand in a loose formation, eyes narrowed, but they’re not hostile. They’re just… waiting.

Misora, standing by the back wall, crosses her arms. Her eyes stay cold, but there’s no aggression in her posture. She’s here to observe, just as much as the rest of you are. Dr. Park apparently wanted her dead just based on her eye color. But now, it seems, he’s learned how to differentiate between friend and foe.

At least, you hope so.

You can feel the tension in the room tightening, but Dr. Park seems determined to move past it. “I’m not here to make excuses. I did what I thought was necessary. I… miscalculated.”

Carlisle remains composed, but his gaze sharpens. “Miscalculated? You put all of us at risk, Dr. Park. You played your hand too long.”

There’s a long silence as Dr. Park looks at Carlisle, his eyes flicking to the six tigers, then to Riki and Misora. “I know. I can’t change the past. But I can try to make this right.

“We’re not used to letting vampires walk our territory.” A pause. “But I can see now that not all of you are the same.”

“We have no interest in staying where we aren’t welcome. Our family will be leaving soon,” Carlisle responds.

Dr. Park takes a deep breath, seemingly collecting his thoughts. “That will not be necessary.” He sighs. “The treaty Chief Black of the Quileutes forged between us was too limiting. Let us agree to a new treaty. So long as your matters do not concern our settlement, we will not interfere.”

Then, Jungwon steps forward, extending a hand toward Riki. “Apologies to you and your sister, and thank you for helping us kill the blonde one.”

You tense slightly, waiting for Riki’s reaction, but after a moment, he takes it. A handshake. A truce.

It’s not friendship, and it never will be, but it’s enough.

After Dr. Park’s visit, the tension in the Cullen house starts to settle, but an unsettling quiet remains.

Misora doesn’t move much from her spot by the wall, her arms still crossed as she watches the others, her expression unreadable. You know what she’s thinking—she’s never been the type to settle in one place for long. She’s a wanderer, always moving, always seeking the next challenge, the next horizon.

It’s something you both shared, for a while. You hunted together, finding moments of freedom that both of you crave so fiercely. You’ve seen each other at your best and your worst, and there’s a comfort in that unspoken understanding.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” you ask quietly, your voice breaking the silence.

Misora looks over at you, her gaze amused at first, but then softens just slightly. “I always leave,” she replies, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “You know me. I can’t stay in one place for too long. Not even for you.”

You let out a small, frustrated sigh. “I know. But it’s different now. You don’t have to run anymore.”

Her eyes flick to the others and then back to you. “I’m not running from anyone.” Her voice is firm, resolute. “I just don’t fit in here. I never have. And you? Are you going to stay with the Cullens?”

You hesitate, your gaze drifting towards them. You’ve felt the pull of belonging, of finding a place to settle, but you’re not sure you can embrace that life yet. “I don’t know yet. I think I’m still figuring that out.”

Misora steps closer to you, her presence grounding. “You don’t have to decide now. You’ve got time. But me? I know my path. I always have.”

You want to say something, to tell her to stay, but you can’t. You know better than anyone that she needs to go. Misora’s freedom is her own, and it’s not something she can easily give up.

She gives you a small nod, like she’s saying goodbye, but it’s not final. “Take care of yourself. Don’t let them tie you down. If you ever want to leave with me… you know where to find me.”

With that, she turns to walk toward the door, her movements smooth and sure. But just as her hand touches the doorknob, there’s a sudden shift in the air—an energy that only comes with Riki’s… your mate’s proximity.

Misora glances at you one last time, her lips twitching slightly in a way that could almost be mistaken for a smile, before she steps toward her brother. Getting through this last piece of unfinished business.

“Goodbye, onii-san.”

Riki pauses, his chin quivering. “Is that it?”

Misora shrugs. “We fought together, and we won together. That’s more than we can say for our previous life. I still don’t forgive you for the past 200 years or for you using your power on me. But… I might be ready to in a later lifetime. But for now? I’m not gonna pretend everything is fine when it’s not.”

Riki doesn’t reply right away. He stands there, his expression unreadable, the air heavy between them. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he exhales sharply and extends his hand.

Misora hesitates for only a beat before accepting the gesture. It’s not a friendly handshake, not a truce—just a silent acknowledgment of the past they share. And, perhaps, a quiet farewell.

“Goodbye, Misora,” he says softly.

With that, she steps past him and out the door, leaving behind a heavy silence in her wake. Riki watches her leave, his gaze lingering on the empty doorway for several beats.

Without thinking, you step closer.

He doesn’t look at you right away, but when he finally does, there’s something raw in his expression—something unguarded, vulnerable. And then, without a word, he leans into you.

Your arms wrap around him instinctively, grounding him. His body is tense at first, but eventually, his muscles relax. It’s quiet, but in that silence, so much is said.

After a while, you murmur, “What now?”

Riki doesn’t answer immediately. He stays where he is, as if he hasn’t quite decided if he’s ready to let go yet. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he says, “I don’t know.”

You pull back just enough to look at him. “Are you staying?”

His brows furrow slightly, and you know why.

He’s never been offered a safe, loving place before.

“If they’re okay with it…” he gestures to the Cullens. “Can I?”

But he isn’t seeing the way they’re already fondly smiling at the two of you.

“Of course,” you murmur.

He laughs awkwardly. “Maybe if I stay for long enough, my eyes will start to turn gold like yours are doing.”

You smile softly at his words, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “You don’t have to rush it,” you murmur. “You’re already starting to fit in.”

Riki exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “I feel like I’ve been fighting for so long, I don’t even know how to stop.”

“You don’t have to figure everything out right away.” Your fingers trail down to his wrist, a silent reassurance. “You’re allowed to just… be here.”

He looks at you then—really looks at you—and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the room fades away. The weight of everything he’s carried, everything you’ve both survived, lingers between you, but in this space, in this second, it’s just the two of you. No threats, no expectations. Just quiet understanding.

Riki shifts slightly, his forehead nearly resting against yours. “You make it sound so easy.”

You chuckle. “It’s not. But you don’t have to do it alone.”

A beat passes. Then another. Neither of you move to pull away just yet, as if breaking the moment would make it less real.

His fingers brush lightly against your waist, hesitant, testing, and you can feel the way his breath hitches. Your own hand lingers at his wrist, your thumb tracing soft circles against his skin. There’s something fragile yet certain between you.

Then, slowly, Riki leans in.

The kiss is soft—uncertain at first, like he’s still trying to convince himself this is real despite the ones you shared last night. But when you don’t pull away, when your fingers curl gently into the fabric of his shirt, he deepens it just slightly, exhaling against your lips. It’s slow, tender, a quiet promise exchanged between two souls who have spent far too long in limbo.

And it sets the tone for the rest of your day.

For the rest of your week, actually, as the two of your force yourselves to get used to the vegetarian diet under the supervision of the Cullens.

After a day trip with the wildlife, you follow Alice and her dainty, dainty footsteps back to the house.

She turns to you, halfway through your walk, gold eyes shimmering. “I saw you, you know.”

You blink. “What?”

Alice smiles, but there’s something wistful in it. “Nineteen years ago. When I first met Riki in Volterra. I had a vision,” she continues. “I saw him standing beside a girl with golden eyes. A girl who was part of our family.”

The words settle over you like a gentle weight. For a long moment, you can’t speak.

Alice’s smile widens, just a little. “I didn’t know who she was back then—but now I do.”

☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾

HOLY SHIT I JUST FINISHED MY FIRST FANFIC??? MEEE THAT QUITS EVERYTHING!!

Special thank you to everyone who actually liked it and was hyping me up throughout this novella-length journey yall have no idea how happy seeing the notifs made me😭😭

Deadass will miss Riki and (Y/N) sm

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Finale

@angelengene3011 @opheliaas-stuff @melzonly @meyinyin @nshmrarki @lizzygrantwrld @skyearby

126 notes · View notes

stllmnstr · 8 months ago

Text

masterlist

also mortaldreams (18+ blog)

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

YANG JUNGWON

sure thing part 1, part 2 — yang jungwon / 23.7k

An employee in the marketing department of a large company, your days are filled with poorly worded emails, unrealistic deadlines, and passive aggressive friendly reminders from your superiors. On a particularly awful afternoon, a chance encounter with a coworker from the programming department down the hall is the first thing to make you smile in weeks.

But the more you uncover about Yang Jungwon and his mysterious injuries, flimsy excuses, and always occupied Friday nights, the more you begin to realize that you really don’t know him at all.

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒

starlight — yang jungwon / 13.4k

There’s a word for it. Something that’s whispered behind closed doors, shunned like a bad omen you can’t quite shake.

Glitch. A cruel twist of fate. A failed soulmate match.

Something you’ve been marked as since the countdown on your wrist ticked to 00:00 two long years ago and left you lonelier than ever. Something you’ve been fighting since destiny carved itself into your skin with a dull, lifeless shade of gray.

But fate is a funny thing. And love, as you’ve learned, is often found in the most unexpected places.

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

LEE HEESEUNG

sacred monsters [ongoing] — lee heeseung / 70k +

A literature student in your third year of university, you’ve been dreaming of having your writing published for as long as you can remember. With a perfect opportunity dangling at your fingertips, the only obstacle that stands in your way comes in the form of a ridiculously tall, stupidly handsome, and unfortunately, very talented writer by the name of Lee Heeseung. Unwilling to let your dream slip out of reach, you commit to being better than the aforementioned pain in your ass at absolutely everything.

But when a string of vampire attacks strikes close to your city for the first time in nearly two hundred years, publishing is suddenly the last thing on your mind. And, as you soon begin to discover, Heeseung may not quite be the person you thought he was.

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒

all the things I never said — lee heeseung / 7.3k

Lee Heeseung has a secret.

It’s scribbled on a forgotten note, tucked away in a bottom drawer, carved with a shaky hand into the aging wood of his childhood treehouse.

But secrets have their way of coming out. And when Heeseung is forced to confront his long-hidden feelings for his best friend of ten years, things take an unexpected turn.

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒

easy mode — lee heeseung / 2.9k

brother’s best friend au / suggestive

breathing room — lee heeseung / 2.5k

enemies to lovers / YA fantasy vibes / suggestive

something old, something new — lee heeseung / 2.3k

exes to lovers / angsty / based on an anon drabble prompt

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

SIM JAEYUN

champagne problems part 1, part 2 — sim jake / 48k

The second son of a wealthy family, Jake Sim has gotten used to always standing in the shadow of his older brother. From grades to girls to talks of becoming future CEO of the Sim Corporation, he’s no stranger to coming in second place. So when an opportunity arises for Jake to finally have the one thing his brother can’t and best him once and for all, he knows he’d be a fool not to take it.

There are only two problems. The first is that the thing his brother wants so badly isn’t a thing at all. It’s you, semi-estranged daughter of the Sims’ closest and most long-standing business partner.

The second is that Jake Sim can’t fucking stand you.

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒

signed, sealed, delivered — sim jaeyun / 3k

royalty x commoner au / based on an anon drabble prompt

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

PARK SUNGHOON

every fragile thing — park sunghoon / 12.3k

After an ankle injury lands you in mandated physical therapy sessions instead of on the ice where you should be training for nationals, you’re absolutely certain you must be the most frustrated, emotionally volatile figure skater on the planet. Park Sunghoon proves you wrong.

or,

every fragile thing has one of two choices: become stronger or shatter into a million pieces.

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

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yelenaslyubov · 5 months ago

Text

Carmilla

main masterlist || requests || autumn fic list

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ pairing: vampire!yelena belova x fem!reader AU

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ warnings: almost smut (groping, kissing, everything but penetration/stimulation), sapphic yearning, sweet/dirty talk, mention of blood

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ description: based on the novel ‘carmilla,’ in the comfort of your family’s castle, a visitor shows up out of the blue. you are immediately intrigued, almost feeling as if you know her in some way. she entices you with her whole being and becomes the most fascinating thing you’ve ever come in contact with.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 3.3k

You woke abruptly to a loud crack of thunder. It could have been the nightmare that was keeping you from sleep, but you did not want to dwell on such devilish thoughts. You rose from your bed with a creak and fled to the window. The raindrops were pelting the glass like a stampede of cattle against cobblestone. It was almost too much for your ears to bear to be at such a distance.

You looked beyond the window of your own tower to the abyss below. Having powerful storms such as this one made the daunting castle so much more intimidating.

As you squinted your eyes, you could see the dim glow of the street lights lit up despite the storm. They flickered from a combination of rain and wind that threatened to destroy their luminescence.

You saw the poor innkeeper that fought the wind as he walked back inside from checking the stalls. It seemed as if he could almost be swept up in the wind.

Since sleep felt out of the question at this time, you made yourself comfortable against the inside of your window and waited. You hoped the rain would pass soon so the branches may stop their incessant tapping against your windows.

You felt your eyes go dark as your eyelids fluttered shut. The rain became a companion of comfort now as it steadied, as well as lulled you to sleep.

The feeling did not last long as you heard a crash from down below. It took you a moment to compose yourself and wake up again before you looked down to survey the damage. You waited a moment to see if anyone down below heard the crash and were running to help, but there was no such luck.

You pulled on your robe to cover your nightdress while you dashed down the hall to your father’s room. It turned out that he had heard the crash as well and was already on his way out of his quarters.

“Father, you heard it as well?” you asked him.

“I did, my dear! I will go down at once to see what’s the matter.”

“I will come with you!”

He must have not heard you completely or else he would have stopped you by now since you were half way down the stairwell. You fled from the front doors of the castle and you were met with immediate rainfall. Your nightgown was soaked within seconds, but you couldn’t stop now as this was turning out to be the most interesting event to happen in your recent memory.

The rain and fog was clouding your vision, so you were only able to see the scene before you once you were closer. “What is it, father?” you yelled over the rain.

“It seems to be a crashed carriage. I am going to see if anyone has been injured.”

As you approached the damage, you could make out the small carriage that had flipped over on its side. Oddly enough, there was no horse to be found that could be pulling the carriage, only the carriage itself. There seemed to be no trace of any evidence on how the carriage came to your front entrance.

“Come, quickly!” your father shouted. “There’s a woman here!”

You ran to your father’s aid and saw the woman in question. The door of the carriage was open to reveal a dark haired woman spilling out. Her dress was disheveled beyond imagination and she looked to be unresponsive.

Your father turned her over on your back and you were able to see the mystery woman’s face now. Your eyes widened and you took a step back in shock.

“What’s the trouble, dear?” father asked you.

You hesitated. “Nothing at all… just surprised.”

Surprised was not quite the word you would use. Unnerved was more fitting.

The woman’s face was something out of a dream, a dream that you had. She seemed so familiar yet so distant and new. Her face was angelic, but held a darkness that pulled you in deeper than you wanted. Even with her unconscious you could feel the mystery radiating from her skin.

“We need to get her inside, it’s much too cold to be out here,” your father instructed.

Your father did most of the work to lift her up. Once her figure was upright, you took her unoccupied arm and wrapped it around your shoulder to help her inside.

Once you were able to get her inside, you carried her up the stairs and into a guest suite. Your father rushed to the fireplace in order to get a proper fire going to heat the room as well as the mystery woman’s cold body.

You did the honors of resting the woman’s head against the chaise lounge that was placed by the fire for convenience sake. You assumed it would be best to be as close to the fire as possible granted her condition.

You stood back and watched the woman sleeping while the fire cast its warm and wavering reflection upon her. Seduction seemed to be the appropriate word to use as you stared at her. You wanted to be as close to her as possible, but also far away from her danger that you couldn’t help but feel.

“Let’s let her rest,” your father said while giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

You gave a small nod and walked out behind your father, but not before giving the woman one more peculiar look. You escorted yourself back to your room and shut the door tightly. You were sure by now that the sun would be coming up very soon.

The fire in your own room threatened to go out, so you decided to feed it more and add another log or two. Once the fire was properly maintained you found yourself in bed once again with a new change of sleeping clothes, ones that were not soaked by the storm.

You drifted off to sleep faster than you had anticipated which was a nice surprise. Your sleep did not feel entirely fulfilling as you jolted awake from a nightmare once again, but this time it was light outside. The storm seemed to be a figment of your imagination, as the sky was blue and birds were singing their morning songs. It was almost as if last night had not existed whatsoever.

The woman. You wondered where she had gone. Was she still in her room? Had she fled the castle after she had awoken? Could she be wandering the halls? The opportunities for her were endless.

You decided to try your hand at her room first. You creeped down the hallway in order to prevent the creaks in the floor from completely blowing your cover.

Your hand hovered over the door nervously. Unless the woman had run away, you knew you would run into her eventually so you tried to get it over with as you knocked lightly on the door.

“…Come in.”

A deep voice spoke from behind the door and you stepped back. You half thought that the woman would be gone, and the other part of you that believed she stayed had not realized you could be even more entranced by her.

You pushed on the door and hesitantly walked through to come face to face with the mysterious woman. Her once pleasant looking face turned even whiter when she met your eyes. She seemed to be the epitome of confusion.

“I apologize if it is too much of an intrusion, but have we met before?” she asked you.

You felt it could be an interesting question to ask if you had not felt the exact same the moment you laid your gaze upon her. “I do not believe so, but I cannot help to feel the same.”

The confusion quickly turned to realization. “Your dreams…”

“Pardon?”

“I have seen your face in your dreams. It sounds most strange, but what I say is true. I do not know how or why, but you have plagued every thought as I sleep and I have seen you just last night.”

The more she explained, the stranger it sounded. People cannot invade one another’s dreams as she says, that is preposterous.

“You have been suffering from nightmares, no?” she asked you. She snaked closer to you, almost as if she did not walk but was transported nearer.

You nodded your head reluctantly.

“How would I know that if what I said is but a lie?”

You felt like there was a point to be made with what she said, but you still were not convinced. Since you really did not want to debate the topic any further, you decided to change the subject.

“I’m sorry, but I haven’t asked your name?” you asked the woman.

“My name is Yelena, and yours?”

“My name is y/n, pleased to meet you.”

“And you as well. This situation seems quite odd indeed, so may I ask, what exactly happened?” You could not imagine how this lonely woman felt being in such an accident, so you were not sure exactly how to phrase such a story.

“Well, it was the middle of the night and there was a terrible storm that kept me awake. One minute I was asleep, and the next I heard a great noise coming from the entrance of the castle. My father and I ran outside to see what was the matter and found your carriage with no horses to be found. We felt it was in our best judgment to bring you inside and get you warm before sending you on your way to your destination.”

Yelena smiled faintly and looked towards the ground. “The thing is, I cannot remember what destination that may be.”

She had a way of looking past your eyes and directly into your soul. You were sure it would soon swallow you whole.

“Well, while you are busy thinking about that, I will have clothes for you to borrow until then. Hopefully that will be suitable?”

“Of course, of course. I appreciate your hospitality and openness to me.”

In all fairness, you didn’t have much of a choice but you did not mind either way. You hoped that someone would do the same for you. So, instead of answering, you gave one courteous nod of your head in reply.

“Would you… like a tour of our home?” You didn’t think it would hurt to ask, as you didn’t know how long her stay would turn into.

“That would be most pleasant if you don’t mind!”

“Not at all,” you smiled.

You straightened out your dress and gave her a look that insisted she follow you. She was like a quiet mouse creeping behind you, you only knew she was there occasionally when she made a peep, but her footsteps were silent.

You took her up and down the hallways and the stairs, directing her to the abundance of rooms that she could explore in her free time. You turned around often to look at her and each time you tried, it seemed as if she was looking at you all along.

It was starting to become strange the amount of times you caught her staring at you and not the architecture that was crafted inside the castle. The only thing infatuating to her was you.

The way she watched you like a predator watches its prey was something to be studied in itself. There wasn’t one move you made that she wasn’t watching. There was power in your every move and you were well aware.

You kept on the same as you began and led her to the library. “It’s not much, but this is where I spend much of my time,” you told her.

“It is the most grand thing I have ever seen. I’ve never seen so many books before!”

You watched her face light up and you felt a rush of both happiness and pity. There were plenty of places that had more books than your silly old castle, but you were happy that there was someone else to appreciate it as much as you.

She jogged along the side of the shelves and ran her fingers down each book spine. She took care in feeling each one with tender care.

“I can’t believe it! I may just have to stay here forever,” she exclaimed. You mustered a small laugh in exchange.

“You are welcome to use it during all hours.”

She walked over to you and grabbed your hands. You felt an uncomfortable surge of coldness run through your body that was triggered by her touch. You did not know something could be so cold. You tried to pull your hands away instinctually, but she held on tighter.

“Your hospitality means everything to me. Thank you so very much.” She sounded genuine, which was quite contrasting to her natural chill.

Then, leaning in close, she brought her frozen lips towards your cheek. Time seemed to stop as her lips made the journey near you.

They gently touched your cheek in a most affirmative movement that somehow still felt soft. They were just as expected; chilled to the bone. The longer she lingered close to you the less you felt like you could restrain yourself.

Her touch against you was like a siren whisper that grew stronger. In your mind, you could see her hands all over you in an unabashed manner. Those hands could trail over your bodice, down your neck, and may even try and sneak under your precisely placed gown.

In an instant, your thoughts left as soon as they appeared. It did not go unnoticed by Yelena apparently. You could see it written on her face that something bothered you, almost as if she had already read every thought that had just occurred.

“We-we must keep moving,” you instructed.

“Lead the way, y/n.” She said your name as if it commanded power, the complete opposite of what it was.

In the next few days that passed, you and Yelena grew quite close. You would find her in the library during the wee hours of the night, whether that was reading a book or simply sitting and staring out into the beyond. During the day, you found her sleeping, which was quite strange.

You couldn’t get over just how odd the woman was, regardless of your relationship with her now. She had her strange quirks, and the wild thoughts always occurred when she touched you, just like they did before. Sometimes they were stronger or weaker, but you were now convinced that Yelena could read your mind.

She wore a smirk after each moment of skin to skin that happened. This was always accompanied by your red face that took over after the thoughts had passed.

This was nothing like the thoughts that became real the night when Yelena left for good.

This particular night, she was nowhere to be found in her usual spots. You tried her room for a change, even if it was the middle of the night.

You could hear the fire crackling and the orange light glowing from the outside the door. Instead of knocking, something inside you decided to push the door open instead. You see Yelena sitting on the lounge near the fire with a book in hand.

“I was wondering when you would come and find me,” she smiled.

“I did not know I was supposed to.”

“Sure you didn’t.” She had a way of making every conversation into something quite sensual.

She patted the spot next to her, instructing you to come sit down. You anxiously walked over to her with the creaking floor below you as your guide. You plopped yourself down on the lounge with a bounce.

“What took you so long to find me, dear?” she asked, her voice dropping an octave lower. She quickly put the book down while her hand found your hair. Her fingers twirled through it so seductively, each fiber prickling against your skin and sending you shivering.

“Hmm?” she asked this time, feeling more like a demand as time went on.

“Uhm, I checked all your usual spots and did not seem to find you. I heard the crackling of the fire and it led me here.”

“Good thing you found me then hmm.”

She had moved from twirling your hair to almost petting it. Then, her hand brushed against your shoulder and that is when the thoughts found you once again, but they did not feel exactly like your imagination. The thoughts that impeded your mind felt more like a promise rather than a dream this time.

Her nails dragged up and down your arm which felt almost like lines of frozen crystals were left in its place. Her lips followed, their chilly touch exploring the bare parts of your shoulder. The closer they became to your neck, the more you wanted to give in. You were sure now that this was not a dream.

“Why would it be a dream?”

Your body was rigid after the question. She indeed knew every thought you had had about her and this was the finale.

“I waited so long to be able to touch you like this. Knowing it’s no longer living in your mind makes it so much sweeter,” she cooed.

You found yourself leaning against the side of the lounge while Yelena had her way with you. It was the same feeling as before, but this time it was more real. Because it was real. She was real.

She kissed on every untouched part of your neck as her long nails dug into the space behind your neck. It took everything in you not to scream from the pain and pleasure.

“It’s alright to feel it. I want you to feel everything,” she whispered, her voice once again resembling a siren call.

Her hands were everywhere she could reach before making it too risqué. You had never experienced anything quite this heavenly in your life. There was nothing that was stopping you to act on your feelings, but you were so distracted by Yelena that you felt paralyzed.

She soaked up the feeling and taste of your skin as she moved down your arms and your legs. Each brush of her lips and tongue make your hair stand on edge and your back arch.

“Almost done, sweet girl.”

Almost done? You did not know that there was an end you were waiting for.

Before reaching under your dress, Yelena stopped. She came up to you once again where you could see her dilated pupils, hungry for something you were uncertain of.

This time when she smiles, there was a mischievous flare that you did not miss. In addition, you did not miss the way that her teeth seemed to change before your eyes. Either way, you seemed stuck in a daze that did not quit.

She lowered her mouth down to the side of your neck and kissed and sucked. The action became stronger… and stronger. It reached its peak before a sting of pain.

“Ouch!” You were suddenly brought out of your trance and sat up. There was a trickle of blood that started at the top of your neck and ran down over the front of your dress.

You got up from the lounge and walked across the room to find something to dab the blood off. There was a sting when you placed the cloth over your injury.

You spend so much time caring for your wound that you had forgotten all about Yelena who was recently suffocating you with lust. You looked around the room and she was nowhere to be found.

To your surprise, it was light outside and you were not sure exactly how that happened so quickly. You went to search the castle looking for her. She was not in the library, her room, your room, or anywhere in between.

Yelena seemed to vanish before your very eyes, as there was no trace of the mysterious woman you had come to call a friend.

All that was left was the lust she had burned into you as her final goodbye.

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