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kentopedia · 11 months

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♰ sent to destroy — dazai osamu

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ KINKTOBER NO. 5 - fallen angel!dazai

he promises he's not the devil, but he steals your soul with just a kiss.

contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, takes place in 1920s for fun ig, actress!reader, alcohol, one mention of suicidal ideation and prostitution by reader, blasphemy, sacrilege, pls don't read this if ur religious & will get offended LMAO, angel fucking (& he has wings), bondage (thru powers), unprotected sex, cunnilingus, corruption kink, possessive sex, softish dazai, mm idk what else — 6.1k

note: i didn't edit this as thoroughly as i normally do so plss ignore any mistakes and i'll love you forever

the speakeasy fills with a thin veil of smoke, coating the room with an intoxicating mix of alcohol and nicotine. it’s a lewd place, full of degenerates and failed actresses like yourself, a crowd of people who don’t belong, but try their best to find a way to keep living.

it’s a place where women pick up their clients, leading them to the hotel around the corner for a night they certainly won’t be paid enough for. it’s where people drown their miseries in alcohol and hope they won’t wake up in the morning.

it is, regrettably, the only place you can afford.

you sit alone at one of the tables, hands shaky from nerves as you smoke another cigarette, contributing just as much to the cloud that suffocates the small room.

hoards of people make their way downtown for a sip of alcohol, the drink that has so ridiculously been banned, but you are no exception, no angel amongst the sinful devils.

someone plays a saxophone at the front of the bar, spinning into a graceful melody of jazz that sings out to you, lulls you into an embrace that warms your core. it soothes the anxiety that has lingered with you throughout the day, the reminder that your life is tailspinning.

you’d failed at landing yet another role, and the acting career you’d packed your bags and moved out for was plummeting. who would accept you now, now that your hopes and dreams had been for naught, now that you’d created a shameful woman of yourself and your family?

the answer was clear; but you were too stubborn too accept it, too desperate to believe that you could be up in the glimmering lights, the brightest silver star the world had ever seen.

you lean back in your chair, stamping out the cigarette with a sigh as you stand to collect another drink. there’s not much left in your pockets, but you’ve made it work before, and you’ll keep making it work now, scrounging up coins for the relief that came with forgetting.

the only consolation is the line of women that stand alongside you at the bar, as dejected and miserable as yourself. all of you have been labeled the failures of your families, the ones that bet on a shot in the dark. none of you expected that the road would be easy, certainly not with the way the industry is hasty to pick up only the most beautiful faces… but your ambitions had led you to believe that you, of all people, had had a chance.

you know your beauty is endless, a sight to be admired, but even that had not been enough to secure your spot in the limelight.

you thank the bartender as he hands you a drink, and slump back to your table, waiting for the effects of the alcohol to kick in. yet, when you stand at the edge of the table, peer at the chair you’d once been seated in, there is already a man there.

he gazes at you with a crooked smile, eyes amused as he regards your beaten-down state.

you’ve seen him before—made every attempt not to see him again. you know what they say about him. he’s a wizard, he’s the devil, he’s a god that steals the body of a mortal, waiting to destroy the earth. all bad things, certainly, and with the way your life’s been going, you’d be a fool to get mixed up with someone like him.

still…you know of the things he’s done for people. that miracles have happened for those brave enough to ask for them.

perhaps, you’re in need of a miracle.

the dark-haired man leans forward, eyebrows raised as you gawk at him from the other side of the table. “no need to look so frightened,” he says, gesturing towards the other chair. “sit.”

“i don’t want any company,” you say, straightening, pulling your drink closer to your chest. “i came here to be alone.”

his eyes flash, predatory, as if seeing down through the depths of your soul, to the very desire that lingers within. all of your dreams, your ambitions, and your loneliness are displayed to him, a flashing banner that alerts him easily of everything that’s ever been wrong with you.

“is that so?” he asks, leaning forward, his voice deepening amongst the chaos of the speakeasy. “then, why have you been staring at me all evening?”

you can’t help the flush that rushes to your cheek, the heat that covers your entire body. with the crowd of men and women alike that are constantly at his arm, you’d hardly thought he’d notice you.

and though you know what they say about him, he is undeniably beautiful; you’re drawn to him. there is a dark and heavenly beauty about him, something that you fear is too angelic to be of this world. his eyes glimmer almost like diamonds in the candlelit room, skin so flawless that it is nearly luminescent.

it’s no wonder, really, that you haven’t been able to peel your eyes off of him.

you circle around his question, instead, and set your drink down on the table, lured in either by a false sense of safety, or the confidence of his grin. “i know what you are,” you say, swallowing back the fear that devils often prey on.

he smiles, indulging you, a lifelong game he has surely played. “and what is that, my dear?”

the mocking tone sends a cold wave down your spine, even though the sweet name seems to warm you. “i don’t believe i should say it out loud.” you’re not sure what kind of consequence that will bring you. perhaps you do not need to make a deal with him for your soul to be damned, straight to the fiery pits; maybe this conversation is enough, and already, you are on the long list of sinners that will be sent to burn.

“because you believe i am the devil? a demon sent to prey upon you and your soul, drag you down to hell once the contract you’ve made is over?”

you say nothing, but your silence speaks loudly.

he sighs, leans back in the chair and looks at you from under thick lashes. “i have no interest in the dealings of those fifty, lesser beings. i find that i can bargain for more enjoyable ventures.” two dark eyes trace over you, swallow you whole as he grazes your curves with his irises, the shape of your breasts under the tightness of your dress, the style shorter to match the current fashions. “so, i think we both may have something the other is interested in. please,” he gestures once more to the seat in front of him, addressing you by your first name—one you never even had to tell him. “sit.”

nervous, you take the chair, wondering why you aren’t running away, screaming at everyone that there is a monster in your midst, a being that hunts the weak to lure them away from their misery. no wonder he has made himself a frequent customer at this place—there are people drowning in sorrows. one deal with him, and they will wake up in the morning, drowning in riches instead.

“what do you want from me?” you ask, letting your hands fall to your sides.

“so eager to get to the best part of my bargain, silly girl. have some patience.” he takes a sip of his own drink, pinning you with his gaze, even above the rim. you squirm under the intensity, but you, even now, can’t look away. “i know you’re struggling to find work. you’ve been here for years, and made pennies to live off of.” he reaches across the table, spins a lock of hair around his finger as he sighs dramatically. “such a shame, really. they must fear the power of your perfection if they refuse to let you shine brighter than the rest of the dull creatures that they call starlets.”

your heart drops, stutters within the delicate bones of your skeleton before starting again, as you remember that this is how the devil would act, luring you in with sweetly poisoned words full of deceit. “they are talented—”

“they are nothing,” he snarls, banging his fist on the table so loudly that you jump, hands shaking against the beaded skirt of your dress. “you may claim to believe in your own talents, your appearance, but it is all a lie, a facade that you maintain to protect yourself. you are the one holding yourself back, and unless you let me help you, you’ll get nowhere.”

you feel tears burn. “you mean to lure me away from the path of god—”

his eyes narrow. “i mean to free the human race from the chains that religion has bound on them. there is nothing for you in the afterlife but an existence of slavery. one to a malicious devil who only wishes to torment, or one to a god who doesn’t love you.”

it confuses you, the way he speaks of these beings as if he is not on the side of heaven or hell. as if there could be another option. it seems surreal, a secret that you should not have been told; since the day you were born, you have learned of the path of righteousness, the will of god.

that is the only way you can obtain a life of peace… yet, there is a creature before you, claiming to offer you a third path, one that doesn’t have you bowing down for a god that won’t answer your prayers.

it may be foolish, the work of the devil, but you are willing to listen. you are already lured in by this graceful creature with a charming smile and a quick tongue, and you don’t know if it will take much more for you to succumb to him completely.

already, you have lost your way—you would do anything to escape your unhappiness.

“what is it you’re after, then?” you ask, your voice softer, weaker than you anticipated.

he laughs, and lets his head tilt sideways, studies you before answering. “my father has cast me out of heaven; i plan to build my own religion of followers, tearing them away from that idiot of a being they call their god. because i am much stronger, much wiser, and the only way that they can find peace after their death is by trusting that i will give it to them.”

you swallow, twining your fingers together, and think. “you’re… an angel?”

he waves his hand. “a fallen one.”

there are things about the world that you do not understand, but you know that god has not once help you when you were drowning without a savior. he did not guide a helping a hand when you contemplated dragging a knife across your wrists, and yet, here is something, someone wanting to save you from just that. how is it that god can be more benevolent than those he casts out, when you have seen nothing but the opposite?

“you want me to join you, then?” you ask, drawing your eyebrows together. “if i join you, you’ll give me what i desire?”

“well… that is usually the bargain i offer. however,” he hums, eyes flashing as they scour your body. he looks at you hungrily, like he has never seen a being like yourself. “it has been a while since i’ve seen a human as beautiful as you.”

you swallow, blinking at him with wide eyes as you grow hot all over. this would not be the first time you’ve sold your body for fame, but never has it been with a man as stunning as the angel before you. “you mean… if i fuck you, you’ll give me whatever i want?”

he sniffs, repulsed by your suggestion. “always so lewd, you mortals.”

your eyebrows knit together. “but you said—”

“i don’t want you for one night. i want you forever. i want you to swear your body over to me for the rest of your life, let me use it as i wish, bear my children.” he traces your features, grazes a thumb over your jaw, your lip. his eyes are hard, and you swallow, wondering why your stomach flips. “you are meant to be mine.” he smiles, and though you can see the mischief within it, for some reason, there is also softness there as he crosses his arms over the counter. “but if you aren’t interested, then the deal is off the table. i have no need for someone who doesn’t want me in return.”

you blink back at him, observing the seriousness of his expression, the softness lurking within the pools of his deep brown eyes. perhaps he is a vengeful angel… but he is offering you a life that is much more promising than the one you have now. would it really be so bad to give yourself to him, to spend the rest of your life in his arms, when he promises to give you everything you’ve ever wished for?

“i—” you hesitate, unsure how to even begin to answer the question, when you didn’t quite understand what it was that he needed from you.

“i’ll give you some time to think about it. after all, it is a decision that will affect the rest of your life.” he stands to his feet, and it is then that you notice there are some eyes on you, the women he typically has hanging off of him watching your interaction with bated breath. “when you have an answer, just call for me. i’ll be there.”

“wait,” you say, turning in your chair to face him. “i don’t even know your name.”

“you can call me osamu.” he smiles and winks at you, tucking his jacket closer as he begins to walk away. “we’ll be in touch."

three weeks pass before you see him again.

you’d decided quickly what you would say to him, and after two weeks worth of auditions that led to nothing, drinking without a friend in the world, alone to rot in your bedroom, you’d made up your mind.

osamu’s proposal, now, after everything you’d suffered, seemed too good to be true. how long had you wished for a companion, for money, for a steady job—and now, these were all things he promised to provide you, if only you’d stand by his side.

you’d called to him at the start of the week, said a prayer to any angel named osamu that was out there—but no one came.

night after night, you said the same prayer, wondering, if perhaps, you’d been made a fool of. that everything he had said was a lie, and you, truly, were doomed to live an unhappy life. maybe, he was mocking you for your misfortunes, for your weak heart.

though, on the twenty-first day after your discussion, you awaken to a figure standing in the corner of your room, watching you with hawklike eyes, the shadow of a wingspan shaped out behind him.

you gasp, nearly letting out a scream as you scramble to a seated position in your bed, bringing the sheets up to your chest. the man is nothing more than a silhouette, so dark in the moonlight, but you know, without seeing his face, that he is the one you’ve been searching for.

“osamu,” you say, trying to quell the fear that has made a home in your chest. you gawk at him as he uncrosses his arms, sauntering over like he owns the place, like he’s been here before, knows the shape of your body, even under the sheets you hide within. “you heard my prayers.”

“i apologize for not coming faster,” he smiles in the darkness, teeth glimmering under beams of starlight. his face becomes visible then, and it steals your breath away—he is more stunning than you remember, skin nearly glowing, golden. “you were beginning to sound desperate.” osamu watches as your breathing evens out, your eyes flicking over his features. “is that still the case?”

he is a sight to behold sitting before you, the very essence of power seeping off of him in waves. a creature crafted from the hands of god, shaped to be the very thing that would protect the weaker creations.

osamu’s skin, his hair, every inch of him is without flaws, while you are but a sinful human girl who succumbs to each of her urges.

“i want—” you stop, realizing that you’re not sure what you want. to be an actress, yes, a famous starlet that is cherished by the masses. but, when you look at osamu, the soft, plump shape of his lips, the lean limbs that hide under his tailored coat, you wonder if fame, security, comfort—perhaps, those aren’t the only things you desire from this exchange. “i accept—”

“you sound uncertain,” he interrupts, eyebrows drawing together in a scowl. “you called me here, begged me to come steal you away, and now, you change your mind?”

“no!” you say, scrambling to grab his wrist as he starts to stand from the bed, his eyes flashing as you reach for him on all fours. “i’m not changing my mind. i want to be famous, i want to be yours.” you swallow, choking out the word as it turns your cheeks warm, the heat making its way up from your toes.

it hit you harder that you anticipated, the taste of belonging to another. you aren’t sure if its because you’ve craved the connection for so long that it’s twisting your insides, turning you into something desperate, or if, already, you feel an invisible string tying you and this stranger together.

“but?” osamu asks, still seeming like he’s about to flee, his eyes hard, blinking back at you. there is something about you that he wants, but he won’t take it, not unless you crave him just as much. it muddles your mind, confuses you—he could have anyone, could take anything. yet—

“but why do you want me?” you ask, releasing him to curl your fingers around the blanket. “i don’t understand.”

osamu balks, then laughs, his eyes crinkling as he regards you with some sort of gentleness. “perhaps i have always loved humans a little too much, much more than i should, at least.” he curls a piece of your hair around his finger, hums to himself. “innocent creatures that my father cursed with misery, blaming their own sinfulness against them.” osamu licks his lips, hungry as dark eyes cover your face. “but it’s not entirely your fault that you must bear the torment of generations. just as it is not my fault that i was born with a lust for something much more delicate than the creatures of heaven.”

he strokes your cheek, fingers grazing you like you are nothing more than a piece of glass, that you might shatter under the force of his power. perhaps you would—with too much, he might break you, turn you into a pile of ash with a snap of his finger.

“but there are millions of us to choose from,” you say, sweating under the blanket as your heart pounds in your chest. the breadth of his power becomes more obvious with every passing second, and yet, you crave a taste of it. “what makes me so special?”

he wraps a large palm around your jaw, thumb pulling at your lower lip. the tip of it dips into your mouth as you watch him with wide eyes, frozen, but not from fear. “i was meant to be your guardian angel, to be the guide that leads you away from the devil until your dying breath.” he moves closer, dipping his head towards your lips, brown irises never leaving your own. “and yet, the moment i laid eyes on you, i had already broken the first rule.”

you stumble over your syllables, whispering them breathlessly. “and what’s that?”

osamu smiles, muttering the words against your mouth, his voice ghosting over your skin. “angels are wired to protect those that we are assigned to,” he says, swiping his tongue against your lip, just barely kissing you, the sounds low and breathy. “we’re not supposed to want to fuck them.” a finger drags slowly, sensuously up your arm, and you can’t move, can’t do anything but watch as he pushes you, sinks you slowly into the bed. “i have never wanted anything as badly as i want you.”

you breath, in and out, slow, as the heat settles in your stomach, a burning pool of need churning there. it’s been so long—so long—since anyone has touched you in a way that is kind, has wanted to please you, instead of steal from you. “all that, just for me?” you ask cheekily, though you’re still not sure that he is telling the truth.

maybe he is the devil, but you no longer care. his voice is so sweet with praise and affirmation, bleeding into the softness of your heart.

he shrugs. “perhaps i was always meant to fall.” your head hits the pillow. you aren’t sure when he got you pinned on the bed. osamu looms over you with wide, burning eyes, licking his lips with an ache he doesn’t bother to hide.

“osamu,” you shudder, grabbing his bicep to steady yourself. it is too much, suddenly, all at once. you are filled with need for him, clawing at his skin as he commands complete control over you with nothing but his words. “i—”

your sentence is stolen away by a kiss, one that burns from your mouth all the way down to your toes. it twists something within you, turns you into a monstrous being that you had not realized you were, longing so recklessly to be touched.

his hands roam over your body, touch featherlight as he removes your dress, drags it slowly off your body, eyes grazing over every inch of your skin like he wants to devour your whole.

he makes a low sound in the back of his throat, fingers lightly dipping down your chest, between the swell of your breast to your ribcage. “how cruel of our father to keep us from such divine creatures,” he says, leaning down to kiss up your stomach, lick the skin around your breasts. “perhaps we are the ones that are truly being punished.”

you writhe under him, hands curling in his hair as his own dips between your thighs. grabbing his scalp hard, you yank him back up to your lips, and your eyes meet, both dark and dangerous as you brush your nose against his own. “you are punishing me right now.”

“is that so?” he laughs, eyes flashing with humor. “such a greedy, impatient little thing.” osamu slips out of his coat, his shirt, revealing the tent that has already grown in his slacks. they are the next to go, and his golden skin is revealed, the perfection of every line and angle of his body heavenly and refined. he leans down to whisper in your ear, breath ghosting the shell of it. “act like such a princess, but i know you want to be fucked until you can’t form a single thought, don’t you?” he says, and the coolness of his voice has you squeezing his shoulders, gasping out his name.

your skin burns, your chest burns, an ache gathering and settling deep in your stomach. your cunt throbs as you look at the angel before you, and he kisses down your neck, bites a hard bruise into your collarbone.

you whimper, wondering why you ever questioned going with him, when he could make you feel this good from nothing more than his hands on your skin.

“such pretty fucking tits.” he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, teasing the bud as you cry out loudly in the silent room. far too loudly for the thin walls, the cheap apartment. yet, you wonder if you care that your neighbors can hear the noises that come with your pleasure.

“that’s it,” he purrs, kissing down your stomach before his lips reach your hipbone, smiling into the sensitive skin there. “so quiet before… thought i was doing something wrong.”

“n-no,” you say, chest rising quickly as you watch him hover above your soaked cunt with anticipation. “feels good.”

osamu smiles, spreads your legs farther, so your dripping, aching hole is on display, embarrassingly, every inch of you vulnerable to him. “look at you,” he says, eyes hazy as he holds you tight, digs his fingers in your skin. “so fucking perfect. bet you taste as good as you look.”

there isn’t a moment for you to say a word—his head is already between your thighs, kissing your clit before sweeping his tongue through your folds, gathering up the wetness. a moan leaves his lips, and the vibration sends a wave of need through you as you squeeze his hair, force him back down on your cunt, nose dragging against your clit. “osamu, please.”

“ah, ah, ah,” he stops, licking his lips that are moist from your juices as his head lifts from between your thighs. a dark smile stretches across his features, calculating and cruel. “where are your manners, sweetheart? i don’t want you to cum too quickly.”

you’re not sure what he means until you feel your hands pinned to the bed by an invisible force, the power of the angelic creature before you, finally obvious. you can’t move, can’t even writhe against him, even as you try to thrust your hips forward, gain any sort of relief from the position.

he laughs at you, so pitiful at your desperation to be touched. “much better,” he says, and returns to lap at your cunt, tongue already stretching you as his fingers graze your thigh.

“s-samu,” you say, feeling the heavy pressure build down in your stomach. “want,” your cheeks grow hot, and you’re tingling with a need to touch him, but you can’t move. his pace is too steady, too slow. you’ve never wanted to scream more. “want your fingers. please, please.”

“please? such a good girl.” osamu grins against your pussy. the sound of his tongue slurping at your arousal is loud in the darkened space, and you clench around him, burning with need and shame. “you taste so good, too. better than any of the fucking shit in heaven. fuck.” he slips a finger in then, working at your clenching hole as his tongue curls around your clit, rubbing at the sensitive bud.

your words leave you in a cry, every muscle in your body aching. “please, i want to move. let me touch you, i want to, i—”

“i’m not letting you go that easy,” osamu says, and he pulls his mouth away, his face glistening, soaked. his fingers curl into you and you squeeze your eyes tight as he reaches deeper, to the second knuckle. “you’re so fucking worked up. bet you could cum at the sound of my voice alone.”

“i wanna, please, i’m so close—"

he laughs, looking up at you from under dark lashes. “already?” the sound is mocking, nothing about it soft as he kisses your inner thigh. he sees the desperation in your irises as you can do nothing but stare, unable to twitch a single muscle. “gonna cum all over my face?” he asks, and he’s back between your legs, tongue diving into you. “make a mess on me, sweetheart, wanna see that pretty face of yours when you cum.”

you don’t think you’ve every felt like this before, basked in the moonlight as the angelic man soaks his face with your desire, smiling at the sight of you so sinful. your heart hammers in your chest as you remember what you’ve promised him—that you would be his forever and, perhaps, this is what forever entails.

breathy moans leave you, and with each thrust of his tongue, you’re left with less words on your lips, less thoughts in your mind. “feels so good, you’re so good, osamu,” you babble, over and over.

osamu reaches the deep spot inside of you, and you squeeze him, clenching as you come on his fingers, cry out in the space of black room, nothing but the stars to guide you. you’re not sure you’ve ever come this fast before, not without the help of your own hands, but osamu just continues to lap at your cunt, drinking the juices and making lewd noises of pleasure at the taste of you. “mm,” he hums, “so fucking perfect.”

he fists his cock, already hard as his tongue swirls inside of you, and you lose any train of thought, too focused on the way he’s making you feel.

osamu is hard, leaking before he shifts onto his knees, rubbing his cock between your folds, gathering slick at the tip. “want my cock, baby? such a pretty thing deserves it, don’t you think?”

you nod, muttering syllables you don’t even understand. osamu teases you, drags his cock against your hole as he kisses your lips.

“use your words, sweetheart,” he smiles. his soaked fingers leave patterns of your own slick on your stomach.

you groan, eyelashes wet. “want your cock, ‘samu, please, wanna be stuffed so full,” you babble, and you can’t do anything but lay there, even though you want to touch him, want so badly to shift your hips into him. “please, osamu, please,”

he makes a noise in the back of his throat, grinning as he plays with your nipple, lining himself against your dripping hole. “so fucking sweet for me, anyone would think you were the angel, wouldn’t they?” osamu asks, and then he sinks into you, slow, eyes careful as he searches for any pain in your features.

you blink up at him, making a soft noise as you writhe under your skin. “b-big,” you say, feeling him stretch your walls as he sinks further.

though his eyes are careful, he doesn’t bother to stop, each second dragging as he inches further into you. he laces his fingers with yours on the bed, grinning as dark hair falls into his eyes. “i think you can take it, can’t you? you’ve been sogood for me already.”

sucked into the coolness of his gaze, you don’t realize that he’s released you from whatever spell you’ve been trapped under, kept helpless on the bed. you gasp as he sinks into you completely, aching from a mix of discomfort and the deep need with you.

“too much,” you say, but he sinks further, deeper, and your walls clench around him, bringing a heavy groan out of both of you. “fuck, please, let me move, i—”

“i’m not stopping you,” he kisses you hard, sloppy as his saliva drags across your lips. there’s a possessiveness in the way he fucks you, dragging his mouth across your own, claiming you as his. “you take it so fucking well, angel, slipping right into this soaked pussy.”

his words take a moment to reach your disoriented mind, and when you try to move, you can, your hands flying to his shoulders to bring him closer. your whimpers are loud in the hollow room, and osamu loves the sound of you, drinking each little whisper in like a heavenly elixir.

“you’re so pretty,” he says, kissing across your forehead as you arch into him. “making you feel good, hm? so fucking innocent, and i’m ruining you.”

“mmm,” you force the sound out as osamu thrusts into you, hard against the mattress, his hips moving in a steady, fast rhythm. hair is sticking to his forehead with sweat, his brown eyes even darker in the midnight hour.

your fingers graze across his back, between his shoulder blades, and though your touch is featherlight, he freezes, stops immediately with a loud groan as he clamps his teeth down on your shoulder.

you breath in sync, your chests rising and falling together. “osamu?” you ask, staring up at him, his eyes pinched together tightly as he grits his teeth.

“sensitive,” he says, and his voice is hoarse. “fuck, i’ll cum on the spot if you touch me there.”

you blink, your haziness clearing as you let your hands fall to your sides. it takes you a moment to realize why he would curl away from your touch there, why he would—

“your wings?” you ask, and he drags his gaze back up to your’s, nodding, before dropping his head onto your collarbone. he exhales into your neck, resuming a slow, steady pace inside you. though, you place a hand on his chest, feel his erratic heartbeat. “can i see?”

“you don’t want to.”

you pinch your eyebrows together, but he shifts his hips, forces a cry out of you as you collapse back down against the mattress. “i do,” you argue, but he’s fucking you mercilessly, sensuous sounds echoing in the room as he attempts to distract you. “i want to.”

he’s about to deny your request, but you let out another soft please, batting your eyelashes so sweetly. your cheeks are flushed from the heat in the room, and, for some reason, he relents, bowing his head in some sort of remorse. slowly, his wings span out across the room.

you lose your breath for a moment as you stare at them, muddled from the feeling of him inside and the beautiful sight before you. the wings are thick, black and feathery, spanning the length of the room, casting a dark shadow over you. they’re strong and unwavering, with a sheen that could be seen only on a raven, the light turning the shades from a deep purple to green.

“oh,” you can’t mutter anything else as he drags his tip against the sensitive spot inside you. “oh, they’re so beautiful. fuck, osamu, i can’t—”

you can’t stop yourself from touching them, dragging a gentle touch against one of the feathers. osamu cries out, groans into your mouth as your walls clench around him, sweat dripping between you as your chest presses against his own.

“shit,” he says, forehead pressed to yours. “oh, i’m so close. gonna make me come, aren’t you, baby? squeezing me so fucking tight, touching me like that.”

his eyes are hazy, and, somehow, for some reason, he’s let you have control of the situation. he kisses your face, treats you with a gentleness you didn’t think he was capable of, his lips so warm against your skin.

the dark, heavy wings cage you in, falling over the two of you, and you run your fingers against them once more as you feel another orgasm creep upon you. your clit rubs against him, and your slick drips between the two of you, down your thighs as your breath catches in your throat.

for a moment, you revel in the feeling of him deep inside you, and you close your eyes, his feathered wings so soft under your palm, letting your pleasure overtake you.

though that is short-lived as osamu pinches your jaw.

“hey,” he says gruffly, “look at me. want to see those pretty eyes of yours when you cum.” and though his eyes are soft, delicate from the way you’re stroking his wings, he sounds so mean, so possessive. “gonna fuck all my cum inside you, cause you’re mine now.”

your fingers curl around the feathers, hard as you tug him down towards you. osamu moans deep into your mouth when you clench around him, your orgasm rolling over you again as you scream his name into the blackness of the room.

“such a good girl f’me, fuck, i—” he doesn’t finish his sentence, already filling your soaked pussy with his cum. it seeps deep inside of you, coating your walls white until he pulls out, lets his seed drip between the two of you.

osamu presses his fingers across your face, dragging the delicate touch around your jaw, your chin as you breath heavily, still awestruck by the creature before you. you’re exhausted, sleepy, eyes hazy as you regard him with stuttered breath.

but he doesn’t let you go, kissing you over and over again with flushed lips. “i know you can give me one more,” he says in a low voice, humming against your throat. “my perfect mortal girl. just one more, and i’ll give you whatever you want, got it, pretty?”

your body aches, sensitive and spent, but you don’t object when he slips another finger into, kissing you hard as he lets you touch his raven wingspan.

you’d always wanted to be an actress, anyways.

tags: @hannzai @cha0thicpisces @kissesmellow21 @sukiischaotic @hinata7346

OCTOBER MASTERLIST

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jasmines-library · 2 years

Text

Cry, Little Sister.

- - - - -☽───⛧ ༺♰༻ ⛧───☾ - - - -

“Drink it. Be one of us.”

———————————————————————

Summary: You’d lived in Santa Carla all your life and it was boring. That was until you and your brothers discovered that there might be vampires about. When an attempt to kill the lost boys goes awry, and you end up becoming a vampire yourself, things become very messy when you join your brothers -who are vampire hunters- in a second attempt to rid your town of killers where you sacrifice your secret to save your friends, your brothers are not forgiving.

Warnings: Near death experience, blood, violence, killing, vampires, staking.

Word Count: 6.1k

Note: It’s finally here! This was a result of my poll that I posted a few weeks back, I’m sorry it’s taken a while. This is a lot longer that I planned but overall I’m pretty proud of it. Apologies if there are any major mistakes, or the formatting is off, it i was doing this on my phone and it was playing up. I redid it a few times but by that point it was 1am and I couldn’t be asked. Please let me know. I hope you enjoy.

Santa Carla was odd. You’d lived there all your life and yet you still couldn’t shake the weirdness that clung to your skin as you roamed the streets or the strange smell that lingered in the humid summer air. The boardwalk was busy during the day, but it was Santa Carla’s night life that really captured your interest. Everywhere became filled with colourful lights and interesting people and the sound of engines revving that ricocheted down alleyways. They were all unique characters and they appeared to be around your age. They were spritely and even in the few times you’ve encountered them there never seemed to be a dull moment. You never seemed to see them anywhere other than the boardwalk; that was unless you were looking for them intentionally. You’d spoken to them a few times, you’d occasionally bump into them on your break, though not much was ever exchanged between you. It was a rare occasion for them to come into your store. It made sense though, you didn’t think that comic books would potentially interest someone of their physique, but nevertheless here they were, running their fingers across the rows of coloured paper. As they moved, others seemed to slink away; there was an unsaid air around these boys. Your brothers thought they were vampires. You could see their harsh gazes from the other side of the store: firm and unforgiving. They were both in their mid-teens and wore a constant expression of fatigue on their face; a result of staying up too late brainstorming stupid ideas to take the vampires down. You and your brothers spent a long time researching and planning. You knew there had to be an explanation to the hundreds of missing posters plastered on every nook and cranny of the boardwalk. It was fun, sure, but you seeked something else. Your body itched for something different. A release. You knew it wasn’t a waste of time though. Vampires were tricky, they struck when they wanted and when you least expect it. They’re difficult to survive, but not impossible. You just have to be smarter than them. As they crept around the store, you found your hand edging its way towards the vial of holy water you kept tucked in between your belt. One of them, who had wild blond hair and looked almost like Twisted Sister, chucked a handful of 25c comics into the counter. He leaned forwards onto the splintering wood with a grin on his face. As he pulled out a handful of coins and tossed them next to his comics, his friends sauntered over. They were all tall, wild and their eyes twinkled mischievously. You slipped the change into the register and began to package the handful of comics when Twisted Sister had begun to lose interest, and took to wrestling with another blonde who wore a bold patchwork jacket. One of them glanced at the others before taking a long drag from his cigarette. This one wasn’t as tall as some of the others. His hair was bleached to the point it was almost white and it was cut so that his mullet rested just above his shoulders and clung to his neck.

“So. What’s your name doll?” His voice was husky and something about it compelled you to answer.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He drawled, rolling your name around his mouth. “Hm.”

“You gonna tell me yours or…?”

“David.” He breathed, taking another drag. “That’s Paul. Marko. Dwayne.” He gestured to the other three. At the mention of his name, Paul rushed over and scooped up his comics, winking at you. Your fingers traced the rim of the holy water. It was cool to the touch and you could feel the individual rivets of the plastic lid as you circled it. Your hand slid back into your pocket.

“You free tonight?” David asked suddenly, cocking his head. He paused for a minute as though he was trying to find the right words. Or make up the right lie. “I only ask because we were thinking of having a little fun by the boardwalk. You look bored.”

Edgar and Alan edged closer, weaving between the boxes of comics, craning their heads to listen in. You smirked. “I get off at 10.”

“Perfect.” David said smugly. “We’ll see you at 10.” With that, the four of them turned and left, Paul swinging the plastic bag beside him. People scattered away to form a path out of the shop. The whole store seemed to sigh in relief once they were out of sight. It didn’t take long for your brothers to approach with volatile looks set firmly upon their faces.

“What the hell Y/N?!” Edgar slammed his palms on the counter, causing the wood to rattle on its uncertain frame. His face was set in a hard stare, his eyes bore into yours, covered slightly by a loose bunch of hair that spilled over the top of his bandana. “You’re not only conversing with the enemy now, but you’re partying with them too?”

A smile crept onto your face and you shook your head, pulling loose the clear vial and placing it in front of him. “Think smarter. Not harder, little brother. You doubt me too much.”

~~~

By the time you’d finished your shift, and you had managed to convince your brothers to go home, the crowds had died down slightly, though you could still feel the heavy rhythm of the bass that shook the ground coming from the concert on the boardwalk and the screams of thrillseekers on the roller coasters. The smell of food lingered in the air and the soft hues of cracking fires danced around the beach. You found the boys gathered around a fire just besides the pier. Rock music blared from the stereo half buried in the sand as you arrived. Paul and Marko were prancing around, banging their heads to the fast pace of the music, kicking sand around as they went, sometimes aiming it at each other if they felt spiteful. David stood, brooding in the corner, obscured by the light, he seemed deep in concentration. His blue eyes darkened when he saw you approaching. It was Dwayne who welcomed you, moving over from his perch on a log to make space from you. Marko slid in beside you, snatching a joint from Paul before offering it around. You took a drag and passed it on.

“So. Y/N.” Dwayne said. “How long have you been in Santa Carla?”

Someone's arm snaked around your waist, the leather was cool, but the hand that came from it was icy cold and caused your skin to prick up. “I’ve lived here all my life.” You told him simply.

“Uh-huh. And uh,” he furrowed his brow, turning to face you, “how long have you been hunting Vampires?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Marko removed his arm from behind you and pulled out the vial of holy water. “You really think this is gonna stop us?” He pouted mockingly before unscrewing the lid, tipping out the contents into the sand and throwing the bottle back at you with an unexpected force. It landed harshly in your lap. You scrambled back, reaching for the small pocket knife your brothers insisted you keep on you. It wouldn’t do much but maybe delay them for a couple of seconds. Your hands patted around aimlessly for it in your pocket, frantically searching for it until David dangled it in front of your face. Trying to turn and run, your body collided with Dwayne’s chest.

“Leaving so soon?” Looking up, you were met with his golden eyes and bared fangs. He gripped you by the arms tightly, whipping you round and pulling you close to him so you couldn’t move. You struggled pointlessly in his grasp, trying to get away from the wild faces that mocked you. David traced the knife along your jawline.

“Such a pity.”

“You’re such a babe Y/N. It’s a shame you’ll go to waste.” Paul said, circling round you, studying you closely. “I bet you would have fit right in.”

“It’s a shame you stuck with your brothers.” Marko said. “You would have made a powerful ally.”

Something in your mind clicked, and it was almost as though the world had suddenly become clear, as though this was the obvious answer to everything. “So make me.”

You shifted the bottle between the palms of your clammy hands. It felt foreign, yet so right at the same time. The jewels glistened in the light of the fire, distracting you from the crimson liquid that sloshed around inside. David's eyes bore into yours, it made your skin crawl and your body shift uncomfortably. You could feel the other three pairs of eyes on you, soaking in the anticipation of your next move.

“Drink it.” David urged. “Be one of us.”

You twisted the cork from the top of the bottle and watched as the people around you perked up at the smell of it. You placed the cold glass to your lips and without a second thought, took a swig from the bottle.

“Bravo!” David cheered, pulling the bottle away from your lips and taking a sip of it for himself. There was something about that moment that made you feel whole. The thrill you had been wanting, this was it. Your face lit up with a wild grin and Paul slung his arm around your shoulder.

“Welcome to the club.”

It was a strange feeling. The world seemed different, sharper like someone had begun to focus a camera. The rest of the night went by in a blur, you remember partying and music, but not much else besides that. You don’t know how, but soon you were wiped out in your bed.

~~~

“Get up.”

The sun that pierced through the window caused your head to throb and your eyes to burn as you struggled to adjust to it. Alan stood over your bed, a pillow raised in his hands as Edgar tugged open your curtains letting the remainder of the light flood into the room. You groaned and covered your eyes with your arm as the headache increased tenfold.

“Jesus, Y/N.” Alan complained as you sat up slowly. “What the hell were you doing last night?”

“Hmm?” you asked groggily. The light was messing with your head.

“Did you get them?” Edgar asked, rather excitedly.

“No.” You shook your head, fumbling towards your bathroom. Your brothers were close behind. “Give me time. I’ll get to know them.” You stood in the doorway to the bathroom, leaning against the frame. Edgar narrowed his eyes at you and watched you closely. “Can I go?”

His gaze lingered for a moment, but he grunted and turned away tugging his older brother with him. When you closed the bathroom door, turning the lock behind you, you splashed your face with water from the sink. It was cool against your skin and trailed off in little droplets. When you peered up at your face in the mirror, it was paler than usual as though it were winter and not the scolding summer Santa Carla was currently facing. Besides a slight paleness in your skin, you looked fine, though your head was pounding like a constant, droning beat of a drum. You squinted, trying to remember last night's events. Something about it made your skin crawl. You had this gut feeling that something wasn’t going to end well, that someone was going to get hurt. You swallowed thickly. Your brothers were safe. You could protect them if the time came. If you failed.

It took a while, but when you finally left the shelter of your house, the sun had long gone past its peak point in the sky and was dipping below the horizon. How long had you been asleep? It was Saturday, the peak of the summer and so the boardwalk was crammed. The shop was busy and the small fan at the back of the store did nothing against the sweltering heat. Your eyes kept dancing around the room in search of wild blond hair, or the sheen of leather but to your avail, they only glazed across mops of mousy hair and beach wear. One person did catch your eye however. He was young, perhaps your brothers’ age and was browsing the superman comics. His face was soft and adorned with freckles. It was his clothes however that struck you the most. They were sheek and brightly coloured, with odd patterns. Clearly not from around here. You watched as your brothers approached him closely, trying to engage him in conversation. Outside, a group had gathered, pushing and shoving each other wildly. Emerging from behind the desk, you made your way closer to them and the teenage boys.

“Where the hell are you from,” Edgar asked rather unenthusiastically. “Krypton?”

“Phoenix. Actually.” He replied. You stopped in your tracks near them, listening in discretely. Edgar moved, with his hands in his pockets, towards a row of comics. He plucked one from the rack and handed it to the boy. It was a pale blue edition of ‘Vampires Everywhere’.

The boy tutted and tried to hand it back to him. “I don’t like horror comics.”

“You’ll like this one, Mr Phoenix. It could save your life.”

Alan opened his mouth to speak, but the group outside noticed an opening and grabbed a handful of comics, taking off down the street. “Hey!” You cried, running after them. Edgar and Alan were right behind you, abandoning their new companion.

When the night had finally dulled down, you took a stroll along the beach. The sand shifted between your toes as you wandered. You weren’t entirely sure where you wanted to go, you were restless, wanting to be nowhere and everywhere all at once. When you saw the bikes knelt up against the railing however, you paused making your way over to the four boys. “Incoming.” Dwayne’s head snapped up as you approached, alerting everyone else to your presence. His eyes glistened under the moonlight. Paul and Marko were onto you within seconds, guiding you over to where they stood.

“Look who finally decided to show up.” David smirked. He seemed in a better mood tonight. Perhaps he felt less threatened now you were a half.

“I never received an invite.” You said, leaning against the cool metal of the railing.

“You’re welcome anytime, babe.” Paul smirked. You rolled your eyes.

“How you feelin’?” Marko chuffed, watching you closely.

Nodding, you smiled. “Ok.”

David swung his leg over his bike and took a seat. “You up for a ride?”

Out of all the places you expected David to take you, this was not it. It was an old hotel, sunken into the cliffs of Hudson's Bluff. It had clearly been like this for a while, you had heard the stories when you were younger, yet you had always heeded by the keep out signs posted out front. Clearly those didn’t interest the vampires as they whisked you straight down the narrow stairs, lighting barrels with a splint. When the fire cast a warm glow around the cave, you could really study its beauty. In the centre of the room was an old fountain, once a feature of the hotel. Though the room was messy, there was a sort of structure to it, with beams and tunnels leading off into the darkness. There were posters and cassettes strewn all over the room, likely Paul or Marko’s and the odd books neatly filed away. David took his perch on a wheelchair in the centre of the room. What surprised you the most about the space was the young, dark haired girl who made her way out from behind a lace curtain when she heard the rhythm of the guitar. An even smaller boy, no older than 10 clutched the ruffled of her purple skirt.

“Star.” David called out to the girl. She made her way into the room. “Come and join us. This is Y/N. The girl we told you about.”

She nodded at you bluntly, guiding the small boy into the room. His hair reminded you of your brothers, it was dark and fell over his face. To your surprise he came and sat down beside you. “Hi.” He grinned a toothy smile up at you.

You smiled back at him. “Hi.”

The boy cocked his head as though he were trying to purge you of your secrets. “They all seem to really like you.” He blurted. “David told me that-”

“Laddie.” Star interrupted, reprimanding him as you would either of your brothers. “Leave the poor girl alone. I’m sorry.”

“No, No. It’s okay.” You reached out a hand for her to shake. “I’m Y/N.”

“Star.”

There was an awkward silence that passed between you two, despite the fact that the room was filled with laughter and loud music. The small boy, Laddie, had stood up to prance around with Dwayne.

“Can I ask you something?” Star blurted out.

“Sure.”

“You’re a hunter, right?”

“I guess… I was.”

“Then why’d you drink it? Knowing what they are. What we are?”

“I wanted to protect my family, but…” You hesitated, unsure how to phrase how you felt. “When I'm around these people, I feel… whole. Like the excitement I've wanted my whole life has finally happened. When I’m around these people, I feel that.”

Star said nothing, just watched you close. She couldn’t understand why anyone would willingly put themselves through that, yet she seemed to soften a little at the thought that you wanted to protect your brothers. From across the room, David watched from his throne. He watched as you and Star exchanged stories, listening with his keen ears to the way your voice fluctuated when you got excited. He found a smile creeping onto his face. Perhaps you were more than they bargained for.

~~~

Tension was high in the air as the old blue Ford pulled up to the cliff. Sam and Michael had ‘borrowed’ it from their grandpa. The sun was high in the sky and your head was pounding. Your eyes drooped as you fought to keep them open beneath your sunglasses. Each day it grew harder and harder to fight the pull of the moon and the urge to slink away from the sun. Michael, who everyone knew was a half was struggling nearly as much as you. He slumped against the wheel slightly as he drove, his sunglasses firmly covering his eyes. Michael had been turned just after you. The boys had Star lure him in; orders from their sire. Though you weren’t there at the time, they were keen to tell you how he had drunk from the bottle and hung it from the train tracks. It had been a few weeks since Michael turned. And you had gotten to know him and the other vampires very well. A heavy weight sets itself upon your shoulders as you clambered out of the car. With your knowledge of the cave and closeness to the vampires, your brothers had relied on you to devise the ultimate plan. Ironically, they sat squashed in the back with you, refusing to ride next to Michael, claiming that ‘They didn’t ride with Vampires’. You were entirely unsure how your brothers hadn’t caught on. You’d passed your tiredness off as late nights getting to know them. Michael knew differently. Either he’d figured it out himself from the time you spent with the vampires, or your symptoms, or Star had caved and told him when she slipped away for help. As you watched your two brothers fumble away with Sam and their stakes, you slipped your arm under Michael, helping to support his weakened body. You had had the privilege of drinking blood from the bottle as much as you needed, or when the boys insisted. Surprisingly, they were relaxed on your resistance to turn fully. It came up occasionally in all of the time you spent with them; It still surprised them at the outcome of your impulse turning. As the pair of you hobbled after the younger boys, who were keen to threaten Michael, and up the stairs, you could feel the burning sun causing both of your heads to pound and muscles to ache. You could also hear the pounding of your heart and you were sure from how loud it was, your fellow vampire could hear it too. Michael glanced at you sideways. “Y/N?”

“Mmh?” You kept your head down, focusing on the steps in front of you, not daring to meet his eyes.

“They don’t know yet. Do they?”

“Know what?”

“Y/N,” He sighed, “Don’t play that game. You know what I mean. I can clearly see the sun’s effect on you”

You huffed, struggling up the stairs, “No. They don’t know yet,”

“How long?” Michael asked. How long since you were turned.

“Not long before you.” You reached the top and began to make your way through the cave’s entrance, “Don’t say anything.” You pleaded. “Please. They’re already mad enough that i’ve been hanging around with them. The only reason they let me do it was for this moment. They’ll be even madder when they realise that I turned wi-” You stopped yourself before you went too far. Michael already knew too much. “Don’t worry about me, okay? Just try not to get yourself killed,”

Michael nodded reluctantly and not another word was passed between you as you made your way down the narrow steps and into the darkness of the cave.

The younger boys were already inside, poking around in curtains and shifting items. Edgar tugged back a thin curtain to reveal Star. She was wrapped tightly in a thin sheet, burying her face in it.

“Here’s one!” Edgar cried excitedly, gesturing to you and Alan, grappling for one of the wooden stakes at the hilt of his belt. They were as thick and as long as your arm, carved half hastily. They would still do some nasty damage. “Come on, let’s stake her!”

“No!” Michael hurried down the last of the steps, gripping onto a loose vine to help keep himself upright. “Don’t you touch her! You stay away from her!” He lurched forwards out of your grasp, causing you to stumble, and skidded to a halt in front of her, forcing the Frog brother away. He dropped to his knees beside her, desperately trying to rouse her from the sun's pull.

“Come on, vampires have such a rotten temper.” Alan glowered, before retreating, slightly taken aback by the sudden outburst before heading off in the opposite direction. “Y/N!” Alan yelled when you continued to stand in your place. “Help us look, God damnit, you’re supposed to be the expert here.”

There was no need to look. You knew exactly where they were, and soon would your brothers. You headed off in the opposite direction, trying to divert their search to where you were. Your heart dropped when you heard Alan yell once again.

“I feel a draft! I think there’s something up here!”

“Let's check it out!” Edgar said running up the stairs, “ Y/N. Sam. Come on,”

Sam followed closely behind with you shortly after. As your brothers began pushing their way through thick layers of cobwebs, Sam called out something to Mike about being back soon.

The tunnel was claustrophobic. It barely stood over a metre in each direction. Roots and cobwebs dangled limply from the ceiling, and a rotten stench filled the air. The five of you continue to crawl down the tunnel, edging closer to uncertainty. The smell got worse and you knew you weren’t the only one who could smell it because Sam screwed up his face in disgust and asked the obvious question.

“What’s that smell?”

“Vampires, my friend. Vampires,”. Edgar patted him on the back. You dropped down off a ledge into a small, circular pit. It was colder there, and you knew that they were definitely in here somewhere. You all looked around, albeit found nothing. You released a breath you didn’t know you had been holding.

“Looks like a dead end. Let’s head back” you urged, trying to get them to leave before they found the vampires. Maybe if you left now, everyone would make it out alive… or as close to alive as a vampire can be. However, you knew how relentless your brothers were, especially when it came to vampires, so you weren’t surprised when Edgar wanted to keep looking.

“They must have hidden the coffins around here someplace.” Edgar persisted, hovering the lights across the walls.

“There’s nothing here, let’s go guys,” Sam tugged on Alan's sleeve and turned to shuffle back down the tunnel. Then the three boys looked up.

“Jesus!” one of them cried out. You weren’t sure who, you were too busy looking at the figures that hung no more than 10 feet above you, their hair dangling in ribbons by their ears. Sam screamed, only to have his mouth covered shut by one of his friends.

“I thought they were supposed to be in coffins!” Sam cried, clinging to the other two boys who were also cowering in fear.

“That’s what this cave is. It’s one giant coffin.” Edgar regained his composure and began hauling himself and his gear up a ladder, beckoning for you and Alan to follow. Sam stayed below, shining a torch on the vampires’ faces. “Right now they’re at their most vulnerable; easy pickings.”

“Remember, we just have to kill the leader,” Sam prompted. You could tell by the way the light wavered in his shaking hands that he was desperate to leave. You swallowed thickly as you placed your foot on the first rung of the ladder. The old wooden frame shifted under your weight. As the three of you climbed, it creaked and groaned softly.

“We don’t know who the easy one is,” Edgar shrugged, pulling himself onto the rocky platform in the cave. It was narrow, barely three feet wide and there was a fairly sheer drop below it. “I guess we’ll just have to kill them all,”

You climbed onto the platform next to Alan, who was wedging free a stake from his pack.

“We’ll start with the little one.” He smirked. “First come, first staked,”

“What was that?” Sam asked, shining the light on Marko’s face. “A little vampire humour? It wasn’t funny.”

The three of you stood face to face with Marko. His eyes were closed and his lips were puckered softly. He was still wearing his patchwork jacket. Like this he looked so peaceful. Your stomach tossed and turned and Edgar hefted the stake that your brother had passed to him between his sweaty palms. Everything moved slowly when he raised the stake aloft and reared his arm back. You could feel your blood pumping in your veins like an echoing alarm, you could hear your heartbeat pounding against your chest, so hard you thought it might burst.

“No!” You caved, rushing forwards and grabbing your brother’s arm, pulling him behind you, which caused the stake that was in mid pursuit to clutter to the ground. The sound echoed throughout the room.

“Y/N! What the hell are you doing?!” Alan hissed. He pulled Edgar beside him, trying to keep his distance from you. He held out one of his weapons. Your breath shuddered. Above you, the four vampires began to stir. Dwayne's eyelashes fluttered slightly. Despite being underground, you could still feel the pull of the sun. It made your whole body want to curl up and shut down on itself. You wondered how it felt for David and the others. You watched as Alan’s gaze flickered up to them and he squared his jaw.

“Leave them alone.” You told them.

“You’re one of them! Aren’t you?” Alan cried at you, once he had finished looking you up and down. He had finally pieced it together. When you failed to say something, he shook his head in disbelief, “My own sister is a shit-sucking vampire. And a Traitor.”

“Stay away from us,” Edgar said coldly, raising a stake towards you.

“Boys…please.” You took a step towards them, only to have Edgar shove his weapon closer to you. “Please. If we leave now, no one has to get hurt. Just..Just put the stake down. I’ll explain, I promise-”

“Okay.” He grunted. Edgar lowered his stake and you lowered your guard, relaxing just a little bit more. And that was all it took, one tiny moment of trust. Quickly, he spun around, Shoving you harshly towards the edge of the platform and raised his weapon once more.

“Goodnight bloodsucker”

A gut wrenching scream ricocheted across the stone walls.

You stumbled backwards, fingers trying in vain to find a grip on the uneven wall. Your footsteps were uneven; all out of beat and losing time. You slipped onto the ground. It was cold and damp beneath your body as you writhed in pain, Rouge tears pooled across your cheeks as you craned your head to spy the offending weapon. The motion made your head swim. It was square, barely as thick as your arm and carved from an aspen tree that once stood in your parents' garden. The four wooden sides sloped together to form a deadly point, now embedded in your stomach, a few inches across from your left hip. You screamed, an agonising, loney scream, but it got lost somewhere between the roaring of the vampires; descending quickly from where they hung, eyes wide and golden with fangs bared, and the screams of the three boys whose eyes were wide with a complexion of shock and terror as they scrambled back down the wooden framework to leave the cave. Your breathing came in quick, short pants as you struggled against the white-hot agony. A figure dropped down next to you as you writhed. A face that was usually so peaceful, hovered into view. His eyes were flecked with gold and were laced with concern and panic.

“Y/N…” Marko breathed, his voice cut clearly through the chaos. He dropped to his knees, hovering over your body, before pressing down onto the red slick that was blossoming between the stake and the threads of your shirt. You groaned in pain. “You’re okay. You’ll be fine. Just stay with me please.” He pleaded, easing you into his arms. When he lifted you, although cautiously, the stake shifted, tugging at your raw, torn skin. A strained whimper escaped your lips and you screwed your eyes up, trying to curl away. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” he hushed, dropping down to the ground of the cave. Paul and Dwayne were quick to rush over to their counterpart. Paul’s eyes were wild, wide and frantic as he reached you. Dwayne’s fangs were still barred, and his hair that was normally so well kept was a mess atop his head. They didn’t care at that moment, seeing you balled up weakly in Marko's arms, something inside of them shifted. The brunette's hands found their way into your hair as you were eased back to the ground, laying across Marko’s chest. When his hands left your hair, you felt them press firmly around the weapon, replacing Marko’s who were now painted with crimson. Although the stake hadn’t gone all the way through, it was close to it. The boys grimaced at your cries of discomfort, faces contorting as though they were the ones feeling your pain too. Paul knelt by your head. He was silent, but took your head gently in his hands, afraid that he might hurt you more. He turned it softly to face him. Your eyes were struggling to stay open as you fought your laboured breathing.

“Y/N?” He questioned. “Hey? Hey. look at me.”

You flitted your eyes up to meet him, They had shifted back to the deep blues of his irises, but the panic on his face still hadn’t melted away.

“Paul?” Your voice was a fraction above a whisper. Ragged and weak. “It hurts.” You whimpered.

“I know. It’s okay. We’ll fix this.”

Blinking slowly, you watched the blonde shift above you. Your eyes felt cumbersome and you suddenly became aware of how tired you were. When black spots began to obscure your vision, you let your eyes flutter shut to blink them away.

“No. No no no. Hey open your eyes, look at us.” Marko panicked.

When your eyes were closed, you felt like you were floating. When your eyes were closed there was no pain. But something was missing. They snapped back open and the whole room seemed to sigh with relief. Above you, someone new had entered the room, David’s face was distraught. And tear stained. His focus shifted from you to the offending stake that still protruded from your gut. His hand ghosted over the top of it.

“We need to take it out.” Paul said.

“No.” When David spoke, it was firm and calm. It mirrored nothing of his expression. “It’s the only thing keeping her from bleeding out. We take it out now and we kill her.”

“We have to do something!” Marko implored. He watched the way your chest staggered up and down. The room was uncomfortably silent for a moment, besides the harsh gasps of your lungs.

“She needs to kill.” Dwayne spoke up.

David nodded solemnly. “We know. But she can’t. We can’t go out there and she’s in no condition to go on her own.”

“Then what the hell are we going to do, David. Huh?” Paul asked. “She’s going to die if we don’t help her.”

They all watched you closely, Your eyes were drooping slowly closed, struggling to hold themselves up. Black spots filled your vision until you could no longer see the blurry shapes of people above you. Your eyes slipped closed again. There was the sound of shuffling and the nauseating smell of more blood mixing with yours. You felt the warm blood ooze down your throat and cool, smooth glass on your lips. When you found enough strength to pry your eyes open, you saw David with the bottle of his blood clutched in his grasp.

“We leave as soon as the sun goes down.”

David left the minute the sun had slipped beyond the horizon. He was bleary eyed and drowsy, but he pulled himself to the nearest part of town to find anyone. The other boys stayed crowded around you. You had gotten worse quickly. The bleeding from the stake had slowed down, however so had your breathing, and your body had paled. You lay limply on Marko’s lap as Paul and Dwayne traced soothing lazy circles on your skin. Their focus never left you. The three of them tried desperately to keep you talking, bringing the glass bottle upto your lips whenever your body wandered a little too far, though eventually the effect of David’s blood began to wear thin and your words turned into little hums and groans of pain. When David finally dragged the struggling man through the entrance to the cave, all bodies perked up. The four vampires helped ease you up, urging you towards the man. Your fingers found flesh.

“That’s it Y/N.” David spoke softly. “Come on, you know what to do.”

You had seen them do it plenary of times. You let your mouth sink into the man’s skin, your teeth piercing the flesh and drawing blood. You swallowed it thickly, it tasted sweeter than you expected. More addicting. As you drank, the fire in your stomach dwindled down to a throb. That was, untill it was forced from your body. Gasping in pain, your hands slipped from the still man in front of you and your body slumped to the ground.

Part 2 • Masterlist