#☾vampire!au

[moon-mage]

Still tired and exhausted this week but I finished this at least!! I'll write more stuff later but until then just enjoy the big bad Slayer running from some uber scary vampires.

[blondiexbiites]

In a fantasy au, Madison would be your typical vampire, a homeless drifter who lurks near the roads at night in search of travelers to prey on. She'll "accidentally" stumble out in the middle of the road and pose as a defenseless, hungry maiden needing assistance. The thing is, she is hungry...just not for your offered crusty bread.

[viperify]

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.

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. 💜

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 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

[vicorices]

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

[moon-mage]

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

[hoo-n-i-ki]

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.

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

[stllmnstr]

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.

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

[yelenaslyubov]

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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[hellbornsworld]

Jungkook Fanfic Recommendations(7)₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊

☆ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 | Tattoo artist/Piercer Jungkook X Pastel!Reader | @bonny-kookoo

☆ Mugs & Kisses | Jungkook x Reader | Barista Au | Oneshot | @minisugakoobies

☆ simply meant to be | pumpkin king!jungkook x fem reader | OneShot | @caelesjjk

☆ beside you | idol!jungkook x gf!reader | Oneshot | @nochukoo97

☆ Fragment of the Past | patient!jungkook x psychiatrist!reader | thriller & yandere au | Series | @ctrlsht

☆ burnout | basketball player!jungkook x student journalist!fem!reader | Yandere | @aikastales

☆ 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 | Vampire! Jeon Jungkook X Human! (F) Reader | OneShot | @angllicjk

☆ angel in the marble | michelangelo!jungkook x servant!reader | high renaissance au | OneShot | @venusjeon

☆ love à trois | jungkook x fem!reader x jimin | Side: Jimin X Reader | @letjungcoook7

☆ you're losing me | jungkook x reader | Married Couple | @sparklingchim

☆ part time lover | investigative journalist!jeongguk x daycare teacher!reader | Oneshot | @sketchguk

☆ STILL DON'T KNOW MY NAME | Jungkook x fem!reader | Series | @hoseokieswrld

☆ cherry bomb | jungkook x fem reader | Oneshot | @retrievablememories

☆ your cursed thoughts | jungkook x reader | Halloween AU | Series | @smaubts

☆ UNWANTED | King/brother Jungkook × slave/older sister YN | @kangmoon27

☆ the seventh life | vampire!Jungkook x female!reader | @folkookie97

☆ champagne confetti | heartthrob!jk x fashion employee f!reader | @pennyellee

☆ Horizon | Angel!Jungkook x Reader | Two shot | @sokooks

☆ Whose idea was it, though? | Jungkook X Reader | @astayinwonderland

☆ First Prize | Boxer!Jungkook X Reader | Oneshot | @tsukisrants

☆ TERRITORIAL | yandere!Jungkook x Yandere Yn | Oneshot | @kangmoon27

☆ Movie Night | Jungkook x fem!reader | Yandere!JK X Reader | OneShot | @taevbears

☆ tethered. | emo!jk x reader | Series | @13lov

☆ gotcha | jungkook x reader | ChildhoodFriend Au | Oneshot | @whatifyoulivelikethat

☆ mate | alpha!jungkook x omega!reader | Series | @7deadlysinsfics

☆ 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Aged up!Jungkook X Younger!Reader | Series | @bonny-kookoo

☆ Slithered | Mafia Jungkook x Fem!Reader | Series | @bts-0t-7

☆ Self-Care Sunday | NailTech!Jungkook x Fem!Reader | One-Shot | @shina913

☆ animal farm. | Jungkook X Reader | OneShot | @joonberriess

☆ November Sun | Jungkook x reader | OneShot | @oddinary4bts

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊

Jungkook Recommendation Masterlist

[viperify]

AU | ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ!ᴛᴏᴍ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𖤝 bite marks.

Vampire!Tom, who messily drinks from your thighs until you’re on the verge of passing out—just to reward you with the most mind-blowing, toe-curling orgasm you’ve ever had.

࣪ ִֶָ☾.

warnings: 18+, blood kink, biting, marking, oral f!receiving, fingering, slight dub con ig, vampire tommy who can’t get enough of ur soft thighs ;)

Tom is very serious about taking his time with his favourite meal—you.

Fangs lazily dragging over your already hypersensitive skin, drawing weak whimpers and whines from your bruised lips.

Bite marks here, bite marks there—you are certain both of your thighs are fucking covered in them. Small drops of blood trickle onto your once white bed sheets, staining them a crimson color—your beautiful, expensive satin bedsheets you spent a fortune on—and yet, the dizzying effect of his bite keeps you from complaining.

“Tom— no more, please, can’t— can’t take it,” you breathe shakily, palm half-heartedly trying to push him away.

But you aren’t there yet, and he knows it. He knows you can give him more, you can take more.

“Don’t lie to me, sweetheart.” He purrs, voice still thick with the same hunger as when you just started—and it’s then that you know you are in for a long night.

And so, he finds a spot that he hasn’t tried, hasn’t bitten.

Although they are getting rare.

A single tear falls down your cheek as his sharp teeth sink into your flesh once more, groaning as he tastes the coppery flavour of your sweet, sweet blood—his favourite.

Fingertips digging into your thigh, pinning it to the soft mattress beneath you as though you were his last meal—greedy gulps filling the air, tongue lapping over the fresh wound.

And you can do nothing but take it.

When he finally withdraws—blood staining his lips and chin crimson—his eyes meet yours.

Scarlet eyes, burning through the darkness of the room. You look back with half-lidded eyes, ears ringing, fingertips tingling, dizzy because of how much blood he’s taken from you. Your eyes blink slowly, vision blurry, almost too blurry to notice the satisfied smirk plastered on his face.

“Did so well for me,” he drawls, moving to lean over you—without ever breaking eye contact.

His lips brush against yours in a tender kiss, the metallic taste of your own blood flooding your senses as soon as his skin touches yours. And what he does to you—whether it’s a side effect of his many, many bites, or the sweet sting caused by them—you cannot deny the aching feeling building in your lower stomach.

Legilimens, vampire— you should know better than to think he isn’t aware. Almost ready to drift off to sleep, you don’t immediately notice him between your legs again. Tom offers a raspy hum against your thigh when he feels the wet patch on your panties, gently swiping over it with his thumb—and suddenly, reality crashes down onto you.

A soft mewl leaves your lips, instinctively pressing your thighs together—only for Tom to spread them further apart.

“Look at you, all needy for me.” He purrs, pushing your lace panties to the side, revealing your glistening cunt to his hungry eyes, flickering briefly. “You have done so well. Now let me give you something back, hm?”

A soft nod from your side is all it takes before his tongue delves between your folds, groaning as he tastes your arousal—a deep, low sound you usually only get to hear whenever he’s greedily gulping down your blood.

His hands are firmly wrapped around your thighs, keeping you all spread open for him while he takes his time with you.

No haste.

As if you haven’t already lain sprawled out in front of him for what must be hours.

When his lips finally wrap around your puffy clit, two of his fingers slipping inside of you, stretching you perfectly, curling just right—you feel like you might actually not fucking survive this.

Your hips involuntarily buck against his face, telling him even without words you need more, need to come.

“Greedy girl. Come on, do it. Break for me.”

Tom knows what you like, what you need. Pointy teeth gently brushing over your clit, fingers pressing against your most sensitive spot with each deep, rough thrust.

And then you do break.

Orgasm crashing over you in waves, walls clenching down tight around his digits. All the pent-up pressure releases at once, and for a moment you swear you see stars.

Even with your thighs shaking, broken moans spilling from your lips, he doesn’t stop—drawing out your high for as long as he can. It’s as though he enjoys this as much as you do.

Fuck, he probably does. At his complete mercy.

“That’s it— good girl.”

Only when you whimper in overstimulation does he slow down and finally sit back.

Looking at the mess he’s made of you.

Covered in his bite marks, blood mixing with the leaked arousal on your thighs, chest heaving as you lay boneless on the soft mattress—entirely spent.

“You are art like this, darling. My very own canvas—all for me, forever.”

He takes care of your wounds, cleans the dried blood on your thighs and the sheets, wiping a strand of hair from your face before he places a kiss on your forehead, finally laying down beside you.

“Forever, Tom.”

thank you for reading! feel free to reblog and leave feedback <3 — masterlist. | oneshots.

©2025 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own.

[lacedinweb22]

Miguel O'Hara Masterlist ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧ 🕸 ୨୧⋆｡˚⋆

taglist sign up turn notifs on --(tagging sometimes fails so turn on notifs to be safe >:D) 18+ Mature setting toggle on --to avoid missing the NSFW 18+ stuff 😼 Requests must be from 18+ AGE IN BIO 🤬 Wattpad- lacedinweb22 🏴‍☠️

Vampire Next Door- (Miguel O'Hara x fem reader) Your neighbor is strange, to say the least. Miguel O’Hara: Alchemax’s newest scientist, genius, most sought-after bachelor … and according to your wildest suspicions … a vampire?

Chapter 1: New Girl *✩ Chapter 2: Night Terror ✮༻ Chapter 3: and I remember her... ˚○◦˚. Chapter 4: Just a Dream °✥ Chapter 5: watching her sleep ❦︎ Chapter 6: Noise Complaints *ੈ‧ Chapter 7: Seven Minutes in Heaven ♱☽🦇☾♱ Chapter 8: About Last Night °✧*:･ Chapter 9: Beginnings of Someone Else ⋆｡𖦹 Chapter 10: Once Bitten, Twice Shy °❆˚₊⋆ Chapter 11: New Year, New Me ❅˚⋆୧ Chapter 12: ⊱From the Outside⊰ Chapter 13: A… vampire ♱❦︎₊°

Headcanons -

On Your Period nsfw 18+

Pudge and Cuddles nsfw 18+

Desperate to Breed, Desperate for Your Scent nsfw 18+

your neighbor, stoner Miguel nsfw 18+ ✥°o｡

Miguel babies you when you’re sick ⁺‧₊˚ nsfw 18+

Blurbs-

dirty, drunk blurb nsfw 18+

dirty, drunk blurb part two nsfw 18+

morning sex blurb ⋆:°* nsfw 18+

One-Shots -

Miguel talks you through it nsfw 18+

Miguel knows how to… nsfw 18+

Valentine’s Day ❦︎⋆˙ nsfw 18+

good kitty - Spidey catches Kitty. Miguel x Black Cat (reader) nsfw 18+

good girl - nsfw 18+ You're trying to study but Miguel has other plans. face r*iding included >:)

just a quick study break... - nsfw 18+ You've been studying for hours and decide it's time to rest your eyes and take a quick break. You're awaken to an even better study break.

daddy's coworker - nsfw 18+ Your father leaves you at home with his coworker (your little crush). He works in your father's office, and you... distract him.

clean me up - After your first time together, you and Miguel take a bath.

feeling guilty - pt.2 of ⬆️ Miguel feels guilty and cleans up your wounds.

rough night - nsfw 18+ Miguel comes home from work roughed up. You offer your care, but he really only needs one thing.

Entangled (university AU)- After years of friendship, Miguel's recent changes become increasingly noticeable and suspicious to Y/N, causing them to stumble upon the truth of Miguel's secret identity and the revealing of their feelings for each other.

Ch. 1 "are you... jealous?"

Ch. 2 "Drunk and Crushing" pt.1

Ch. 3 "New Ride" flashback

Ch. 4 "Knight in Glitching Armor" flashback

Ch. 5 "Drunk and Crushing" pt.2

Ch. 6 "Stung by Jealousy" flashback

Ch. 7 "Web of Lies"

Ch. 8 "You're... Spider-Man"

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍

Key: {☀︎} Fluff {⚰︎} Angst {☠︎} Smut

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐝 ↩︎ {☠︎ } {☀︎} ⇥ CONTENT: FEM!READER, ORAL (M. RECEIVING), PRAISE, SWITCH!CHAN(?), TEASING, BEGGING, IMPLIED SECOND ROUND, PET NAMES ⇥ WC: 0.8K

𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 ↩︎ {☠︎} ⇥ CONTENT: TEASING, HARD DOM!CHAN, BRAT!READER, FEM!READER, ORAL (M & F REC), FINGERING, UNPROTECTED SEX, IMPLIED SECOND ROUND, NIPPLE PLAY, CREAM PIE, CUM EATING (but not really? dont know what to call up?), ⇥ WC: 1.7k

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧 ↩︎ {☠︎} ⇥ CONTENT: ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, VAMPIRE!CHAN, VAMPIRE!SEUNGMIN, HUMAN!FEM!READER, ORAL SEX (F. RECIEVING), BLOOD, MENSTURAL CYCLE/PAIN, FOOD/SNACK MENTIONS, BOOB PLAY, HICKEYS, TEASING, FANG MENTIONS, AFTERCARE ⇥ WC: 1.2K

𝐨𝐡 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲... 𝐟𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 & 𝐡𝐚𝐧 ↩︎ {☠︎} ⇥ CONTENT: bimbo!reader, oral (f. + m. rec), d/s dynamics, sub!reader, sub!han, dom!chan, dom!lee know, pain kink (?), pet names (baby, bunny, brat), praise/degrading, sir kink, Daddy kink, spanking, dycryphillia, fingering, cum eating, cum sharing, orgasm denial, hand job, light bondage, unprotected sex, cream pies (2), aftercare, food mentions, some mxm ⇥ WC: 2.2K

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐲 ↩︎ {☠︎} ⇥ CONTENT: MORNING SEX, HAND JOB, FINGERING, CLIT PLAY, PET NAMES (BABE, BABY,), SWITCH!CHAN & READER, NO REAL D/S DYNAMIC, TEASING, PRAISE, RIDING, BOOB PLAY, UNPROTECTED SEX, BREEDING, CHAN CALLS READER ‘MUMMY’ ONCE, CREAMPIE, IMPLIED MORE ROUNDS ⇥ WC: 0.6K

𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐧 & 𝐡𝐚𝐧 ↩︎ {☠︎} ⇥ CONTENT: POLY!RELATIONSHIP, FOURSOME, FEM!READER, FOOD, PRINCESS TREATMENT, ORAL (F. REC), FINGERING, MARKING, UNPROTECTED SEX, MULTIPLE POSITIONS, CHANGBIN CARRIES READER WHILST FUCKING HER, PRAISE, DIRTY TALK, JEALOUSY, CLOTHED SEX, CREAMPIES, BITING, AFTERCARE ⇥ WC: 3.1K

𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐥𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐬 ↩︎ {☠︎} ⇥ CONTENT: SABRINA CARPENTERS JUNO LYRICS ⇥ SS: 3

𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐰 ft felix ↩︎ {☠︎} ⇥ CONTENT: ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP (READER AND CHAN), SWITCH!READER, DOM!CHAN, SUB!FELIX, THREESOME, MXM ACTION (forgive me if it’s terrible), TEASING, MOMMY/DADDY KINK, PRAISE, NIPPLE PLAY, MARKING, DRY HUMPING, TIT SUCKING. FINGERING (V. AND A.), FINGER SUCKING, ORAL SEX (F. & M. REC), FACE SITTING, HAND JOB, CUM EATING, OVERSTIM, PROTECTED SEX (V. AND A.), MULTIPLE ORGASMS, SUBSPACE (?), AFTERCARE ⇥ WC: 3.1K

𝐛𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐬 ↩︎ {☠︎} {☀︎} {⚰︎} ⇥ CONTENT: SMAU, ONLYFANS AU, FLUFF, SMUT, ANGST, COLLEGE AU, NON IDOL AU. ⇥ SS: 115 ⇥ WC: 2.1K

𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲: 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝 ↩︎ {☠︎} ⇥ CONTENT: WOLF!CHAN, BUNNY!READER, FEM!READER, RUT/HEAT, READER IS BASICALLY ALWAYS HORNY, IMPLIED THAT READER GET S3XUALLY HARRASED (NOT BY CHAN), MENTION POSSESSIVE CHAN, ORAL (F. RECEIVING), BOOB/NIPPLE PLAY, UNPROTECTED SEX (WRAP BEFORE YOU TAP!), DEGRADING/PRAISE, READER PERCIEVED TO BE ON BIRTH CONTROL, READER IS HYPER-FERTILE B/C BUNNY TRAIT, MULTIPLE ORGASMS, MULTIPLE ROUNDS, PREDATOR/PREY (IF YOU SQUINT), KNOT/RUT, IMPLIED MORE ROUNDS, UNREALISTIC STAMINA ⇥ WC: 2K

𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝟏𝟐 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ↩︎ {☠︎} ⇥ CONTENT: VIRGIN!FEM!READER, PERV!CHAN, BEST FRIENDS TO LOVERS, CORRUPTION, GROPING, BOOB + NIPPLE PLAY, MARKING, TEASING, ORAL (F. REC), VIRGINITY LOSS, PROTECTED SEX, IMPLIED MORE ROUNDS, BLOOD MENTIONS, ⇥ WC: 2.2K

𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐧: 𝟏𝟐 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ↩︎ {☠︎} ⇥ CONTENT: DOM!CHAN, DOM!CHANGBIN, SUB!READER, FREE USE, POLY RELATIONSHIP, MASTURBATION, FINGERING, UNPROTECTED SEX, CREAM PIES, DEGRADING, MANHANDLING, FILMING, CHOKING, DP, FINGER SUCKING, PET NAMES (BABY, DOLL, PRINCESS,), ALLUDES TO AFTERCARE ⇥ WC: 2K

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡: 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 ↩︎ {☠︎} ⇥ CONTENT: CNC, SEX FANTASY, ROLEPLAY (INTRUDER & VICTIM), SEXTING, DEGRADING, PRAISE, ORAL (M. REC), FACIAL, PUSSY SLAP, MIRROR SEX, DYCRYPHILIA, HAIR PULLING, MIRROR SEX, RECORDING, FINGERING, MANHANDLING, CHOKING, SPANKING, UNPROTECTED SEX, FEAR PLAY, “NO” IS SAID BUT IS NOT A SAFEWORD, CLIT PLAY, MULTIPLE ROUNDS, CREAMPIES (2), AFTERCARE ⇥ WC: 2.6K

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐎

[azsazz]

Timeline Masterlist

Hello hello. Here's all of my fics that happen on the same timelines. This is part of a second masterlist version that i am organizing by category (this one's for you anon). It's taking forever because tumblr wanna act up and won't allow me to link some things, but it will eventually be up.

Daddy!Azriel

One More [Smut] -> Family Dynamic -> Keep Me Satisfied [Pregnant!Reader] -> Hush Little Baby -> Here's to Tradition -> You Too -> Can't You See? -> Concord -> Come Back -> Burning Man -> Promises -> Summer Daze -> Two is Better Than One -> Taciturn -> In the House Love Built [Smut] -> The Calm Beneath the Storm -> Cuddle Me In -> The Rowdy Bunch -> The Honeycrisp Grove -> Winter Winds -> Sticking Together -> Snatched -> No Tricks, Just Treats -> In Ribbons [Smut, Sub!Az] -> Unwrapped -> Into the New -> Here for You -> Between Me and You -> The Safeguard -> Warrior Status -> About Last Night

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Daddy!Cassian

Terrible Twos -> Strips and Sutures

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Daddy!Eris

Due Time (Part 2) -> Sweater Weather -> Milk & Cream -> Late Nights in the Middle of June -> Cherries, Juniper, and Orange Slices

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Small Town!Cassian [Archeron Sister!Reader]

Break Up in a Small Town -> Dial Drunk

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Rhys' Sister's Best Friend!Reader

Clandestine Love

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Art School AU

Midnight Muse

Coal Lined Lens [Azriel]

Structure of the Gods [Cassian]

Dioxazine (Part 2) [Rhysand]

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Vampire Azriel

You Keep Me Sharp and Test My Worth in Blood -> (Blurb) -> Bleed for Me -> Body and Soul [Smut (read warnings)] -> (Blurb 2)

[moon-mage]

So I still wanna work on the N2 Squad Slayer AU thingy but right now my hyperfocus is on the horror story I can’t shut up about. This a doodle compilation centered around Slayer!Jamil that were originally in entirely separate canvases. @eeveelution4567 was like “brah you are so in love with Jamil” and I was like “whaaat” and they were like “nah you are obsessed with him rn” and I realized oh crap I am in Jamil Hell right now. I cannot get enough of this man lol.

I can’t help drawing him he’s so pretty and that deadpan face just is my favorite and his HAIR HIS HAIRRRRR. Oh featuring Kalim because he can’t escape him even in AU teehee. 🤭 The bloody art has a story and I actually drew this the same time I drew Leona and Vil double teaming to smooch him.

I imagine that happened not too long after word got out that Jamil was the chosen Slayer. Jamil gets attacked in his sleep by humans. Hired assassins that did not like the idea of the Slayer being so close to the Al-Asims AND the watchers council. This is the first experience of Jamil having to kill humans for his own survival and it stirs up the whole “are the vampires really the monsters here?” question. It shakes him more than he lets on…yeah poor bb. 😔

[hoo-n-i-ki]

Cold One. (Chapter 3)

Only when death looms do regrets surface.

PAIRING - Volturi!Riki x Cullen!fem!reader

GENRE - Twilight AU

CHAPTER WC - 7337

WARNINGS - Vampires, shapeshifters, graphic violence, cursing, plot heavy. Mentions of death + organized crime. Brief cameo of villain shapeshifter Enhypen. (This is a complete work of fiction and is in no way a representation of Riki or Enhypen).

☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾

Once the shock wears off, Misora lunges at her brother.

At the Mind Stealer. At the most devastating angel—despite the eyes of a demon.

You watch as your new best friend moves, driven by over a century of pain. She slams into him with all her inhuman strength, knocking him back, snarling like a feral creature.

And the Volturi guard? He stands as he is, and takes it, despite the likelihood that he could overpower her.

“You left us!” She roars, but her voice is ragged. “We thought you were dead! We thought the Yakuza killed you after you stole all that blood money and left it on our doorstep!”

“I’m sorry.” His apology drips with sincerity. But his words fall onto deaf ears.

“But in reality—this is where you were? Off playing assassin for those parasites? Do you know what you did to mom? If you thought she lost it when she lost her husband, you should’ve seen her when she lost her son.” She laughs bitterly, a cackle so loud it sends the birds flying off the treetops. “She used up part of the money you left us to throw you an elaborate sōshiki, to honor you, and even though there was no body, she cried at your memorial stone for weeks.

“Weeks, Puppeteer, weeks!”

Misora starts screaming. Actual, gut-wrenching screams.

And him? If vampires could cry…

“Jasper, how about you calm her down?” Carlisle whispers to him on your side of the clearing.

“Let them keep going,” Edward interrupts. “He deserves it for using his power against Bella 19 years ago. Any Volturi bastard deserves it.”

“But he’s with us, now.” Carlisle says.

“No he isn’t. He’s with Misora. And…” Edward throws a momentary glance at you, almost contemplative or confused. But he doesn’t finish his sentence.

“I only left to protect you from myself, I swear—“

She punches him, square in the stony jaw.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare swear a single thing to me, because I’ll never believe you, anymore.” Her chest heaves. “You swore that our family would always be together. But guess what? You left. You’re not even the son our parents raised, anymore. Mom, dad, Konon, they’re all gone.” She lifts her arms in exasperation. “I was almost gone, and I was excited to finally see my big brother again, but I got hit with the curse that you so openly embrace.”

He kneels.

“Miso, please, hear me out.”

“I will never,” her voice breaks, “ever be your Miso again!”

She starts shouting in Japanese, but he simply watches with furrowed brows.

It’s like he… forgot his mother tongue during his time with the Volturi.

He lost his identity.

She keeps going. He keeps kneeling. The Cullens keep curiously watching.

And you keep wishing to intervene. But it’s not your place.

Until Misora’s voice tires, and finally stops. She stares at him for a while, heartbreak radiating off of her skin. She recognizes her brother, but she doesn’t know him at all.

She turns to re-enter the Cullen house, you follow her, and the Cullens follow you.

You turn to the angel one last time, and he’s still on his knees with his eyes cast downwards.

The family tries to calm down Misora by giving her a bag of O-.

“(Y/N)?” Esme turns to you with the second blood bag in hand.

You shake your head. You haven’t drank in a week. You feel weak, but you don’t wanna give in—not to human blood, at least.

There’s nothing wrong with you that you’re so unable to ingest animal blood, whereas the Cullens are able to.

Right?

“No, thank you. I wanna give animal blood a try again.”

Esme nods with a sympathetic smile. “Just drink this so you can be strong enough to hunt with us next time, then?”

You sigh and take it with a grateful nod.

A couple sips. Just a couple sips.

Hm.

It’s not as warm as it is fresh—straight from the source—but it still has the sweetness no deer or mountain lion can replicate.

Your fingers tighten around the bag and your fangs ache the more it floods every single one of your senses.

It’s an addiction, but you can control it. You can. You have to—because you refuse to relive that shame.

You tell yourself that this is just closure. Just one last drink. You certainly need it in more ways than one.

It’s just so easy.

But you’re (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You’ve never chosen the easy way out—so when you’re done, you force yourself to pull it away for the final time, even as your throat burns as though it’s upset at saying goodbye.

Misora turns to you. “You’re sure you can do the deers with the sliminess in their blood?”

You trade a glance, and the two of you burst into miserable laughter.

“I’m not sure about anything, anymore,” you scoff.

The two of you sit in a distracted silence whilst the Cullens split off—washing away the remnants of the morning. So you take the opportunity to slip outside.

You weave your way through the trees, feet silent against the damp earth. Something in your gut tells you he’s still here. It’s not logic—it’s instinct. A quiet pull in your chest that you don’t quite understand. You don’t know why you’re doing this. You don’t know him. His scent isn’t familiar like the Cullens’ or Misora’s—it doesn’t pull at any memories or feelings of safety.

And yet, there’s something about him. Something magnetic. Something that urges you forward, despite every rational part of you telling you to turn back.

And then you see him.

Riki kneels at a small creek’s edge, staring into the water like it might hold all the answers he’s lost. His reflection wavers, distorted by the gentle current, but he doesn’t move. He’s unnervingly still—too still, even for a vampire. And his cloak is discarded on the ground, beside him.

For a moment, you just watch.

It’s strange, isn’t it? That you followed him here. That your feet carried you straight to him. You shouldn’t be here. He was sent to kill you, wasn’t he? And now, with Jane and Alec gone, the Volturi will come for him.

And that should scare you. It does scare you.

But you don’t turn away. Instead, you step closer.

“This place… it reminds me of home. There’s a creek behind our old neighborhood in Okayama. My sisters and I used to play there—before everything changed.”

He exhales sharply, gaze still fixed on the water.

He heard you… or maybe he felt your presence, the way you did his.

“Volterra isn’t like this. It’s stone and shadow. Cold. The only water runs through the underground tunnels, and it reeks of death.”

The sound of his voice settles into your bones the more he speaks—a deep, rich tenor that seems to hum through the air itself, and it lingers even after his words have faded.

Yet, when he speaks now, there’s a quietness to it, a vulnerability beneath the depth of his tone.

It shouldn’t be so mesmerizing. He shouldn’t be so mesmerizing.

But the way his voice brushes against your senses—it’s like gravity itself shifts, pulling you closer.

You smile softly as you near his side. “Misora never talked about her old life.”

He shrugs. “It was a tough life, I don’t blame her. And pretty sure I only ended up making it worse, no matter how much I thought I was doing good at the time.” He looks down for a couple of seconds, then back at the water. “I never spoke about it either.”

“Well, pretty sure the company you kept isn’t the type where you sit in a circle sharing secrets while you braid each other’s hair.”

He laughs.

It’s quiet at first—just a short exhale through his nose, like he’s caught off guard by the amusement creeping in. But then it deepens, a low, rich chuckle that rumbles from his chest and melts into the evening air. It’s unpolished, like he isn’t used to laughing anymore, like the sound itself has been buried beneath years of blood and duty.

And it’s… warm. Unexpectedly warm, considering everything about him should be cold. You shouldn’t be wondering how someone who has done such terrible things could sound so human when he laughs.

But you do.

He quiets down and continues. “Not just that. I didn’t want to remember, because I knew that the memories would never stop haunting me if I let myself dwell on the past. It worked… even though it was at the expense of everything I’d ever held dear to me. Until now.” He sticks a tongue in his cheek. “And now? It feels like I’m drowning in everything.”

You hesitate for a moment, studying him as he stares into the water, lost in something only he can see. His words hang between you, heavy and raw, like he’s only just realizing the weight of them himself.

And then, before you can stop yourself, you ask, “Why are you telling me this?”

His jaw flexes. For a second, you think he won’t answer. That maybe he regrets saying anything at all. But then, he exhales sharply through his nose and finally turns to look at you.

His eyes—so red, so beautiful, so unreadable—search yours like he’s trying to find the answer in them before he even speaks.

“I don’t know,” he admits, voice quieter now. “Maybe because you’re the only one who doesn’t look at me like I’m already damned.”

You nod thoughtfully, and turn to gaze at the waters, trying to see what he’s seeing.

If he was truly damned, he wouldn’t have betrayed the kings for the sake of love.

There’s humanity in there, somewhere. Perhaps you’ll be lucky enough to get to slowly uncover it as you uncover your own.

The silence you share is not awkward. It’s peace.

“You were right, by the way. I did hesitate. And maybe that cost me everything. But it feels like I gained something, instead.” He scoffs. “I definitely didn’t gain Misora back. Hell, I deserve everything she threw at me—because I don’t even know how to be a brother anymore. I just…”

You turn to face him fully, the weight of his words pressing into you. You can see the conflict in the tense set of his shoulders, the way his hands rest loosely at his sides, as if he’s unsure how to move forward.

“You got some closure?”

For a long moment, he doesn’t speak, doesn’t even move. His eyes flicker to yours, and when rubies meet bloodstains, there’s an intensity—something raw and searching.

His gaze holds you captive, and you’re not sure if you’re the one who’s getting pulled in or if it’s him. Maybe it’s both. It’s like the world itself has narrowed down to just the two of you.

“Maybe I’m just trying to figure out how to be someone who’s worth trusting again.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile. “She’ll come around. You just have to prove to her that she can trust you again. And hey, you have all the time in the world to do that, right?”

He chuckles dryly. “If Aro doesn’t kill me by tomorrow.” He shrugs. “I’m not sure she’ll be able to look past the past 200 years, though.”

“You might’ve known the Misora from back then, but I know the Misora now. I genuinely do believe she’ll forgive you one day. She might be cynical and great at holding a grudge, but she is crazy loyal. Just try to live long enough to see her loyalty, okay?” You try to laugh.

He smiles with those plump lips. “I was sent here to kill you. Why would you want me to live?”

You pause. Why indeed. “Because it would make my best friend happy, and you didn’t kill me, now did you?”

“Is that it?”

You both fall into a charged silence, and for a fleeting moment, the world feels like it’s holding its breath.

Something stirs inside you. Maybe it’s the lingering threat of danger, or maybe it’s the unspoken understanding between you two that you don’t know how to name.

You can’t hold his gaze for long. The intensity is too much, like it’s pulling you into some unknown abyss. Had you still had a beating heart, the pulse would thumping in your ears.

“I don’t know,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. The truth.

He nods slowly, eyes never leaving yours, and it’s as if he understands—like he knew you didn’t have an answer, but he needed to hear you say it. For a moment, there’s nothing but the rustling of leaves in the breeze and the soft gurgle of the creek before you.

Then, you both get the urge to move at the same time. As you do, your hand brushes against his, and it’s a fleeting touch, but it’s enough to send a jolt of electricity up your spine.

You don’t pull away immediately. Your eyes flicker down to where your fingers are lightly grazing against his skin. Riki’s eyes shift to your hand, then back to your face, his expression curious. But there’s something in the way his lips twitch upward, just slightly.

You pull your hand back, awkwardly, but it doesn’t seem to matter. The connection remains, thick in the air, heavy with unspoken words.

You both start walking, and you try to fill the silence, trying to let your mind wander away from the ending conversation you just had, but it keeps coming back.

“So,” you ask, breaking the quiet, “you planning to stick around at the Cullens’ place for a while?”

Riki scoffs, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he walks beside you. “Highly doubt Carlisle would let a Volturi into his home, even if his daughter does vouch for him.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m not his daughter.”

The words are out before you even think about them. But then they land heavier than you expect. You hadn’t really thought about what it meant to not have parents ever since you entered your… current state.

You slow your step, the sudden weight of the memory crashing into you. Your parents. Their deaths. The vampires who took them from you. What would they think of you now? What would they think of where you are, who you’ve become—who you’re standing next to?

The thought is suffocating, and it almost stops you in your tracks.

Riki’s footsteps falter slightly beside you, and when you glance at him, his gaze is far off, focused on nothing in particular. His brow furrows in quiet thought.

“You know,” he murmurs, “I can’t help but wonder what my parents would think of me. If they could see me now…” His voice trails off, and for a moment, it’s just the two of you once again. You’re sharing something, without ever having to say it.

You understand that neither of you can change the past, can undo what’s been done. But you both have to keep going.

You force yourself to shake off the dark thought and turn your attention back to Riki, the smile creeping back onto your lips. “Don’t worry about it. Carlisle’s good with lost causes. You’ll fit right in.”

He glances at you, that same quiet amusement flickering in his gaze.

But it falls once you step up to the edge of the property. You follow his gaze—to where his sister sits in the living room, exposed by the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“On second thought, I’ll go occupy myself with something else.” He gulps. “Thank you for your… kindness.”

☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾

Riki walks away, and he doesn’t stop until the lights of the Cullen house disappear behind the trees.

It’s better this way—that’s what he tells himself.

But the weight in his chest doesn’t agree.

He tells himself Misora is safer without him, that she’s better off not facing the repercussions of what he’s done. He tells himself he didn’t leave because he was afraid of her reaction to seeing him again.

But that’s a lie.

He is afraid.

He saw the way she looked at him. That uncertain betrayal, like she was trying to make sense of the person in front of her. Like she didn’t recognize him.

Maybe she doesn’t. Maybe she never will again.

Because the brother she remembers—the one who looked out for her, protected her, stayed by her side—he doesn’t exist anymore.

The person standing here now?

He’s a murderer.

The words taste like blood, metallic and bitter.

He doesn’t regret it. Alec and Jane deserved to die.

But the Volturi won’t see it that way, because they don’t care the way he does. The members of the Volturi all have their mates with them, and that’s all that matters to them.

He’s never had a mate… but today struck him with the loneliness and seclusion he’s been in for 200 years, and when faced with impending death, he wishes he went about everything differently.

They’ll come for him. That much is certain. Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not next week. But eventually.

No one kills the Guard and walks away unscathed. Not even the Volturi’s most prized possession. In fact, they’ll probably be more eager to kill him, considering his position.

He knows too much.

So why does he still feel like he lost something else, tonight, besides his life?

He exhales sharply, shaking his head.

Misora will be fine. The Cullens will protect her.

And (Y/N)…

His steps falter.

Her face flashes through his mind—eyes steady, voice unyielding. She spoke to him like he’s a person. Not just the boogie monster of vampires. He’s been somebody else for centuries, now, but for a moment… he felt like Riki Nishimura.

He laughed.

She looked at him like he was more than just his sins. Like there was still something left worth saving.

Stupid.

He scoffs under his breath, pressing forward. She’s just a reckless newborn. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. She doesn’t know him.

And yet, that brief moment with her is the only thing that doesn’t feel tainted by the rest of tonight.

His fingers twitch at his sides.

Stupid, reckless, exquisite newborn.

But none of it matters.

Not her. Not Misora. Not this useless ache in his chest.

Because soon, the Volturi will come for him.

And when they do, there won’t be anything left of him to mourn.

☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾

Morning light filters through the trees outside, casting soft, shifting patterns on the Cullen house’s pristine walls. The peace feels deceptive—something you haven’t had since turning.

And then Rosalie, standing by the door, lets out a sharp breath.

“You’re going to want to see this,” she says, unfolding a piece of parchment.

It’s the blood-red V emblem imprinted into the wax seal. It’s the same logo on the letter itself.

You’ve seen it before, months ago in Carlisle’s office.

Back then, it was a warning about the tiger shifters. A very vague warning, because there’s nothing actually in it for them. It wouldn’t have affected them or their authority if the Cullens were killed by the Baekho clan.

This letter, though, leaves no room for interpretation.

“To the Cullen Family,

It has come to our attention that one of our own has chosen to defy us. Riki, a member of the Volturi Guard, has committed an unforgivable transgression. The breach of our laws cannot go unpunished.

We understand that he may be under your protection, but we warn you—this is not a matter to be taken lightly. His actions will have consequences, and we demand that you return him to us.

Bring us the boy.

Failure to comply will result in actions that will not be limited to just the one who defies us. You may believe yourselves untouchable, but know this: the Volturi do not make threats. We make promises.

Consider your next steps carefully.”

You’ve barely read the words before Misora’s exhale, barely more than a whisper, breaks the silence. “Riki…”.

She’s already on her feet before anyone can react, moving toward the door like she’s running on instinct.

“Where are you going?” Jasper asks, stepping into her path.

“To find him.”

You speak before you even realize it. “I’ll go with you.”

Misora hesitates for only a second before nodding.

Once outside, the cold air bites at your skin—not that you mind. You don’t speak at first, just move quickly through the trees.

But where would he go? Misora seems to be as aimless as you are.

Then you remember him at the creek. Quiet, lost in thought. So water is nostalgic to him.

“Should we try the Goldstream River?”

Misora shakes her head. “No. That doesn’t make sense. Riki isn’t… he isn’t that person anymore.”

“Then where would we find him in this entire town?”

Misora doesn’t have an answer, but this is the only idea, the only lead you’ve got.

So you run.

The forest blurs around you as you race toward the river, branches whipping past, footsteps quiet against the undergrowth. And then, finally—

There he is, in all his shimmery glory.

Riki stands at the water’s edge, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the slow-moving current. His expression is unreadable, but something about the way he holds himself—shoulders stiff, jaw tight—tells you that brain of his has not quieted down.

Misora exhales sharply, and glances at you, then back to him.

You just watch him for a moment. Misora doesn’t think he’s the same person she used to know, the brother that played with her by the water. But this is where he always finds himself.

Misora freezes, and she can’t bring herself to move closer. He’s noticing, though. You can see the red of his irises in the corner of his eyes watching, waiting, hoping.

Well, you hope that you’re enough.

“Riki,” you start, stepping forward. “You need to hear this.”

He doesn’t turn, doesn’t shift from where he stands. But you see the way his fingers twitch at his sides. He’s listening.

“The Volturi sent a letter,” you continue. “They’re demanding that we hand you over.”

Misora flinches beside you, but Riki… he just smiles. It’s small, barely there. A resigned kind of thing.

“Of course they did.” He finally turns his head to glance at you. “It was only a matter of time.”

Something about how calm he is unsettles you. There’s no panic, no urgency—just this quiet acceptance, like he’s already laid himself at the Volturi’s feet in his mind. Like he’s been waiting for this moment all along.

“You don’t have to do this,” you tell him, stepping closer. “The Cullens—Misora and I—we’re not going to let them take you.”

His gaze flickers, but he shakes his head. “You don’t understand. This isn’t a fight you can win.”

“That’s not your decision to make.” Your voice is steady, firm, and that surprises even you.

He looks at you then—really looks at you. Eyes scanning, searching, trying to figure out what the hell you’re doing standing here, offering him something no one ever has.

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“Absolutely not.”

The words hit the air like a slap, and Riki flinches, though he doesn’t show it. Edward stands rigid, his gold eyes dark with what Riki knows is a mix of disbelief and fury.

“You can’t seriously think we’re going to risk everything for you,” Edward continues, voice low and harsh. “I don’t care how much we owe Misora or care about (Y/N). We’re not going to stand by you when you’ve already made it clear how little you think of us,” Edward spits out, the words laced with a sharp edge. “All you’ve done is hurt people, Riki. You were there when the Volturi wanted to kill Renesmee. You don’t get to walk in here and expect us to fight for you.”

Expect them?

He never expected a single thing. The only thing he’s expecting is death.

It’s just that (Y/N) let him hope. He really should’ve known better.

His guardian angel who for some reason decides to speak up. “If he dies, it doesn’t change what he did. It won’t undo the blood on his hands.” She narrows her red eyes at her gold-eyed family. Because the way they stand together? This really is a family—regardless of whether or she accepts it.

And he… is envious.

“But this isn’t about the past. It’s about the present,” she continues. “I thought you guys don’t leave someone behind, not someone who needs us!”

Carlisle, who had been quiet up until now, finally speaks. “The moment that letter arrived, we were already implicated. The Volturi made that clear—we’re in this, whether we like it or not.”

The words settle over the room like a cold realization.

Still, Misora doesn’t move. She hasn’t said a single word since they returned, standing with her arms crossed, watching it all unfold. But now, finally, she steps forward.

“Why should I fight for you?” Her voice is quiet, but the bitterness in it is unmistakable. “You never fought for me during this life.”

Riki exhales slowly, his expression unreadable. “Misora…”

“You stood by and let me believe I was abandoned,” she continues, the edge to her voice sharp. “I fought to keep myself alive. I’ve already done more than I needed to by deciding to warn you.”

She laughs bitterly, but there isn’t a single glint in those crimson eyes of hers. The eyes that used to hold nothing but mischief are now all sorrow, and it’s his fault.

But like she said, she did warn him. Does she want him to live long enough to make things right?

Carlisle exhales. “I understand why none of you want to fight, and I’m not asking anyone to put themselves in danger.” His gaze lingers on Riki before moving to the others. “But that doesn’t mean we do nothing.”

“So, what?” Rosalie crosses her arms. “We just watch from the sidelines?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

Silence stretches, thick with tension.

Alice shifts, arms wrapped around herself. She looks at Riki, then at Edward, then finally at Carlisle. “I’ll try to see what Aro’s planning,” she says, closing her eyes.

Riki watches the crease form between the psychic’s brows. Her fingers twitch at her sides. Seconds pass.

Then Alice’s entire body tenses.

“I… I don’t see anything.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. Her hands curl into fists as her golden eyes snap open, wide with disbelief. “It’s blank.”

The words freeze the room.

Riki stands with his body taut, trying to plaster on that mask of indifference he had screwed onto his face back in Volterra. It would be easier to block everything out—to feel nothing and not care that no one is willing to fight for him. He wishes his sister’s bitterness didn’t pierce so hard, and didn’t remind him of all the years he let slip away. The numbness was so much safer—it prevented him from disappointments. But now? With Alice’s vision going blank? He realizes that it’s all too late.

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A week passes. A whole week, and still—nothing.

The Volturi don’t come. There’s no sign of them, no whispers of their approach, no ominous figures in the distance. Just silence.

It’s like the entire purpose of the letter was to put everyone on edge. And it worked. Even Alice, who has spent the past few days trying and failing to see anything, looks unnerved. Every conversation in the Cullen house circles back to the same thing: Why haven’t they come yet?

You don’t have an answer. No one does.

But in the meantime, you force yourself to focus on something you can control.

The animal blood still doesn’t taste right. It never will. Even the hunt doesn’t fill you with the adrenaline rush you used to chase for three whole months. But you drink it anyway, pushing past the revulsion, the longing for something richer, warmer, stronger. Every time you force it down, you remind yourself why.

You lost your way and became the very creature you resented your entire life. You let yourself forget that when you woke up with red eyes, let yourself believe the hunger was all that mattered. Even now, part of you still wonders if it’s too late—if you’ve already crossed a line that no amount of restraint can erase.

But if you can’t bring back the lives you’ve stolen, then maybe this is the least you can do.

Still, you miss it. The chase, the thrill—the way Misora used to grin at you right before the hunt began, sharp and wicked. But you hunt with the Cullens now.

Misora still chooses human blood, but she doesn’t hunt here. The Cullens made their treaty with the tiger shifters clear: no human blood within Victoria. So she vanishes for hours at a time, returning only when the hunger is sated, and you don’t ask where she goes, so that it doesn’t trigger your cravings.

Riki, on the other hand, appears to be too… dejected to hunt. He’s only drank a single blood bag so far, courtesy of Carlisle, just enough for his eyes to not turn black. But he did try out a coyote that Emmett dragged back to the lot a couple of days ago, and he didn’t look as disgusted as you’re certain you still do.

You’re perched on the back steps of the Cullen house, staring at the trees beneath the grey clouds when you hear him approach.

“You’re changing,” Riki says. His voice is quiet, not quite neutral, but close.

You glance at him. He’s standing a few feet away, hands in his pockets, eyes unreadable as they flicker over your face.

“What?”

He gestures vaguely. “Your eyes. They’re not as red as before.”

You blink, momentarily thrown off, before realization settles in. He noticed something so little. You lower your gaze, staring at your hands.

“Well.” You shrug. “I never liked the red much, to begin with.”

Riki doesn’t respond right away, and for a moment, there’s only silence between you. It’s not uncomfortable, not really. It’s just how things have been. He doesn’t seek you out, but he doesn’t avoid you either. There’s a strange in-between that you’ve both settled into—where he doesn’t push, and you don’t pry.

But now, he stays.

You glance at him from the corner of your eye. He looks as beautiful as always—messy dark hair, sharp features. And yet, something is different. Maybe it’s the way his shoulders don’t hold the same rigid tension, or how his expression isn’t completely closed off.

He almost looks… lost.

You watch as he shifts his weight, debating sitting down next to you.

Until he does.

“Is it a you hating vampirism kind of situation?” He asks calmly.

“I hate… what it reminds me of.”

You tell him everything.

Your memory of your parents’ death. The rampage you went on up until a month ago. All the while, he doesn’t judge. Certainly not the way you’d expect red-eyed royalty to—or at least, the direct subordinate of royalty. He just takes in what you have to say, the red of his eyes warm.

After a moment, he runs a hand through his soft hair. “I get it,” he says, voice quieter than before. “The whole… hating what you are thing.”

You blink, caught off guard.

He doesn’t elaborate immediately. Instead, he leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees, gaze fixed on the woods ahead. “Back in Volterra, I used to tell myself it didn’t matter. That I’d already lost everything, so what was the point of feeling bad about it?” His jaw tightens. “But then, at some point, I stopped having to tell myself. It just… was.”

“So what changed?” you ask, because clearly, something did.

He hesitates. Then, his lips curve into something that isn’t quite a smirk, isn’t quite a frown. “I saw the very reason I begged to be turned, again. I was killed, and then I was almost drained, but I begged the vampire I woke up to to save me somehow. I just wasn’t aware that by being saved, I would end up having to leave everything behind.”

You look at him, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. It’s not avoidance, exactly—it’s something else. Like he’s letting you in, just a little, but not enough to be exposed.

Little does he know, you were in a very similar position. Except you didn’t have a family to leave behind, you just had to let your career go… but in turn, you gained a family.

“I don’t wanna leave people behind, anymore, as long as they’ll have me.”

Instead, you huff a soft breath, nudging his arm. “Careful, Riki. That almost sounded sentimental.”

That earns you a glance, a glimmer of amusement in his expression. “Guess your coven rubbing off on me.”

“You wish.”

The corners of his full mouth twitch, just slightly. And you notice. You always notice. And you can’t help but stare.

But your gaze drags his to your lips, as well.

Until the creak of the door breaks you apart, so you re-enter the house.

Carlisle steps in, his footsteps a lot more… guarded than usual.

And in behind him comes Dr. Park.

You haven’t seen him in months. Since that night.

“(Y/N),” Carlisle starts, his lifted eyebrows almost telling you to be wary. “Dr. Park here wanted to check on how you were doing.”

Riki gets the hint and walks away, away from the brown-eyed man.

“Dr. (Y/L/N), how lovely it is to see you!” His tone is cheerful, but his eyes flicking between your blood orange ones are uncomfortable. Assessing.

“How are you holding up?” he asks, in a tone that suggests he’s genuinely curious—but something about it feels calculated. He gives you a sympathetic smile, but you’re in no position to trust it. “I can only imagine what a change it’s been for you, adjusting to this… new lifestyle.”

You tense, but you force a smile. “I’m managing.”

Dr. Park shifts, and though he’s trying to act casual, his body remains rigid. “I must apologize again for what happened that night… with the tiger shifters.” He holds up a hand, as if to stop you from interrupting. “I know it wasn’t just a simple accident. It was my responsibility, and I—” He pauses, then looks at you like he’s about to offer a kind gesture. “I never intended for any human to be hurt.”

He doesn’t regret attempting to kill Carlisle. He regrets the outcome.

“I’m sure you’ve been through a lot, with… everything you’ve had to give up,” Dr. Park adds, his gaze flicking to your hands briefly. “Family, friends, everything that you once were.” His words are soft, almost too soft. “But you should know that as soon as you build up your self control , if you ever want to come back…” His voice trails off, leaving a silence in the air.

Riki, standing off to the side, frowns slightly. You catch the flash of annoyance in his expression, but he says nothing. Misora, too, watches from the living room—her similar expression making her appear more like Riki’s twin than just his sister.

Carlisle steps in. “She’s doing fine, Dr. Park.”

“Of course, of course.” His smile falters for just a moment before it returns to its practiced warmth. “I just thought I’d offer my assistance.”

He turns toward the door, clearly not wanting to overstay his welcome. But his gaze lingers near the living room for a second longer than necessary.

But you might have hallucinated it.

Just like how the next day, when night falls, you start hallucinating a tiger’s roar. Because there’s no way Dr. Park would violate the treaty for no reason, right? Right?

You, the Cullens who aren’t out hunting, and Riki all share curious glances.

They heard it too.

A low, rumbling growl that wouldn’t belong to any vampire or human. It carries through the trees, deep and guttural, setting every nerve in your body on edge.

Riki hears it too. You see it in the way he tilts his head slightly, listening—then in the sharp flicker of his gaze toward the door. The two of you move almost at the same time, stepping outside alongside Carlisle and the others.

And that’s when you see them.

The tigers.

Your entire body locks up before you can stop it. The world narrows, sharpens—too bright, too loud, too familiar. The way they stand, the way their muscles coil like they’re ready—

It’s just like that night.

Your fingers curl into fists at your sides, nails biting into your skin. You try to force yourself to stay still, to ignore the way your throat tightens—but then Riki shifts.

At first, you think it’s just him moving closer to get a better look. But then, without a word, he steps in front of you.

It’s subtle. Casual, even. He doesn’t bare his teeth, doesn’t snarl like he’s challenging them—he just exists between you and them, a silent blockade.

“What is this, James?” Carlisle calls out to the woods. The man isn’t actually around, but who else could be commanding the shifters?

The amber-eyed tiger steps forward. You remember him—Jay, Dr. Park’s son. The one with icy eyes, Sunghoon. The largest, Heeseung.

And the one who attacked you, the one currently standing at the back but is the fastest, regardless. Jake.

Then shadows shift behind the tigers.

“Ah, how lovely to see you all again. I do hope we aren’t intruding.”

A voice that’s all warmth and poison.

A man you’ve never seen before steps out, with his long, brown hair and black and red coat, followed by a taller man with similarly dark hair and a blonde man.

Gasps ring out near you. Riki tenses in front of you. And you know his name right away.

Aro.

The one Misora once told you is the worst of them all. Thank goodness for her that she’s currently away from Victoria, hunting.

Alice takes a hesitant step forward, flanked by Jasper, her anchor. “So that’s why I couldn’t see you coming,” her voice shakes. “You were hiding behind shifters.”

Aro’s smile widens at that, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Ah, dear Alice,” he muses, tilting his head slightly. “You always have been quite the gifted one. But yes, it seems our little allies here have provided quite the convenient cover.”

His gaze flickers toward the tigers, then back to you. His expression is unreadable, but the way he looks at Riki, and then you behind him—like he’s peeling back your layers, examining you from the inside out—makes your stomach churn.

The tigers remain silent, their eyes fixed on you. And you truly wish that Edward is here to read their thoughts. It’s clear they don’t like standing alongside the Volturi, but they’re tolerating it. A temporary truce.

“We have a truce with the Baekho clan.” Carlisle’s eyes flicker from the shifters to the Volturi.

“Your treaty was nullified the moment you allowed the boy and his sister to stay in your town,” Caius growls.

“And so,” Aro’s quietly delighted voice rings, “we formed our own treaty with them. Kill the red-eyed, and they’ll never have to see us in Victoria again.”

A slow, creeping chill settles into your bones.

Aro watches you carefully, but there’s something particularly pleased in the way his gaze drifts to Riki, his fascination clear.

“How curious,” Aro muses, almost to himself. “That the very one who was sent to eliminate you is now your shield.” His gaze flickers between the two of you, lingering on the way Riki’s posture remains stiff, unwavering.

Riki doesn’t move. He doesn’t react. But you can feel the tension rolling off him in waves.

Aro’s fingers twitch at his side, as if the urge to reach out and confirm what he’s seeing is almost unbearable. “Riki, Riki, Riki,” he sighs, tilting his head. “I must say, you continue to surprise me. First, you slaughter my dear Jane and Alec. Then, you desert us. And now?” His eyes gleam, lips curling upward. “You protect the very newborn you were sent to destroy.”

His voice is almost admiring, like Riki’s betrayal is nothing more than an interesting puzzle to solve.

Riki shifts slightly, but he still doesn’t move away from you. “Not my problem if you sent me on a job I didn’t finish,” he mutters. “Guess you should’ve picked someone else.”

Beside Aro, Caius stiffens, and Marcus—who has remained silent this entire time—finally lifts his gaze, watching with interest.

Aro, however, just laughs. Soft, entertained, yet there’s something razor-sharp underneath it.

“Oh, Riki,” he sighs, almost fondly. “You misunderstand.”

He takes a small step forward. Riki doesn’t back away, but you can feel the way his muscles tense.

“You didn’t just fail your assignment,” Aro continues, his voice dropping into something softer, silkier. “You abandoned your family—your true family that has been with you for centuries. You took the lives of our own.” He claps his hands together gently, though the sound is eerily hollow. “That is not something we can simply forgive.”

The threat lingers in the air like poison.

Riki still doesn’t move.

Aro hums, his gaze flickering back to you. But I must know—” His head tilts slightly, eyes narrowing in thought. “Where is your accomplice? His lovely sister?”

You keep your expression carefully neutral. You cannot let him see an ounce of concern.

Aro studies you for a moment longer, then sighs. “Ah, well. No matter. We’ll find her in time.”

His focus shifts back to Riki. And this time, the amusement slips, leaving something far colder in its place.

“You do understand, my dear boy,” Aro murmurs, voice quiet but unyielding, “that deserting the Volturi is a crime punishable by death?”

The moment Aro speaks, the air changes.

It’s subtle at first—a shift in the atmosphere, the way the trees seem to stand still, listening.

For the snarl. Low and rumbling.

The tigers move first.

Jay lunges, a blur of muscle and fur aimed straight for Riki. Thanks to his vampiric speed, he’s able to shift his weight, sending them both tumbling.

You stumble back just as Sunghoon and Jake launch forward. Jasper intercepts Sunghoon, the impact sending shockwaves through the ground, while Jake barrels toward you.

For half a second, you freeze.

Not again. Not again.

The memory punches through you—Jake lunging in the dark, his weight crushing you, claws digging in.

But then—

Riki.

He rips himself free from Jay’s grasp, and in a blink, he’s in front of you again. His fingers twitch at his sides, and the tiger freezes in the air, until he falls backwards. The massive body jerks like it’s being pulled by invisible strings, and Jake snarls, trying his hardest to to break free.

But the Puppeteer is far too practiced.

And then the Volturi join.

Caius moves first, aiming for Carlisle. He’s fast—but Carlisle sidesteps him, forcing him off balance just long enough for Alice to charge in. Jasper and Sunghoon are locked in a brutal exchange of claws and limbs, neither gaining the upper hand.

Riki is facing both Jay and Jake at once, switching between combat and his own power, since it appears two minds are his limit.

And you move.

The heavily striped one, Jungwon, comes at you, but this time, you react. He lunges, and you drop low at the last second, sweeping your leg out to knock his balance. He stumbles, and before he can recover, you slam your palm into his ribs, sending him skidding backwards.

Your hands shake, but you refuse to stop.

Until movement flickers in your periphery. Aro.

You whirl just in time to see him standing perfectly still amid the chaos, watching you, studying you.

Like he’s waiting.

You feel it before you see it. The shadow moving behind you. The air shifting.

You turn too late.

And cold fingers wrap around your throat.

☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾

Comment if you’d like to be tagged on the last chapter!:)

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

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