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chaotic-fandom-writer · 4 months ago

Text

Adam x Reader P.6 (Hazbin Hotel)

Warnings: Heavy cursing, violence, adult themes

Chapters I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII

You

"Alright Adam, if you're coming in with me, you need to follow a couple of rules."

Adam rolls his eyes, letting out a long, dramatic sigh. "Rules? Aren't we supposed to be in Hell?"

"Yes, Adam, but you're notorious for trying to kill me and my friends, and for being a huge dick to them." He opens his mouth to reply, but you a finger up in his face, silencing him.

"Rule #1 - no trying to kill my friends. Or harm them in any way."

"Lame."

"Rule #2 - keep that fat fucking mouth of yours shut." Adam exaggerates a gasp at this. "Well aren't you a rude bitch?"

"Rule - #3," you continue on, ignoring him, "you do what I say, when I say it, nothing more, nothing less. Do you understand me?"

Adam chuckles. "What are you, my mom?" You glare at him.

"Adam. Do you understand me?"

He sighs again. "Fine, yes, whatever, can we just get a move on please?"

You stay still, looking him in the eyes. You can see him visibly soften. He reaches for your hand, but you flinch away. "I promise I'll behave. Okay?"

Put off by the sudden change in demeanor, you nod, the two of you walk up the steps, and you knock on the door.

It's answered by Angel Dust, who looks uninterested initally, but then he sees you, and then his eyes land on Adam. His jaw drops, and all he can manage to say is -

"Ho-ly shit-"

"What? What's wrong?" You can hear Charlie's voice call out from behind him. The doors swing fully open as the whole group crowds around, curious to know what Angel was yelling about.

Everyone's eyes go wide at the sight, and nobody speaks for a second.

You can see tears flooding in Charlie's eyes. "(Y/N)?"

You see the confusion flicker across Husk's face. "And.."

And the anger on Vaggie's. "Adam?"

Then you notice Alastor. He was standing behind the crowd a-ways at first, but at the mention of Adam's name, you see him perk up, his gaze snapping in your direction.

Suddenly, he's not behind the crowd anymore, but in front of them. Something dangerous flickers across his face, something violent.

"Alastor, wait, please let me-"

"Sorry dear, I'm not interested in chatter. I have unfinished business with Adam, here."

His eyes never leave Adam's, but Adam glaces at you, unsure of what to do at first.

He puts his hands up awkwardly. "Hey man, look, we aren't here for-"

Suddenly, a black tendril comes shooting from Alastor, knocking Adam several feet away. He lands on his back with a loud grunt.

You gasp. "Adam!"

Then you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn to see Charlie looking at you, her expression clearly conflicted, as she was happy to see you alive, but weary of Adam being with you.

"(Y/N).. I'm so happy you're okay, but.. why is he with you?"

"Charlie..." You trail off, glancing behind you at the sound of more crashing. You see Alastor throwing Adam around like a ragdoll, but Adam does nothing in retaliation.

You feel your body begin to surge forward, but the hand on your shoulder gives you a gentle, but firm tug.

"When we opened the door just now, my first thought was, maybe Adam brought you here against your will. Maybe he had you capitve, and he was using you to bring us down.

But then, watching you just now, seeing how you obviously want to protect him.."

Charlie closes her eyes and takes a shaky breath, pulling her hand away from you and standing taller.

She opens her eyes. "I can't allow you to be here if he's with you. He's a danger to us all, and you know I care about you so much, but I have so many others here to protect too."

"Charlie, listen to me, please. I know why you feel that way, and trust me, I absolutely despise him still. He isn't the one who killed me but he's the fucking reason I ended up in that damned place."

Vaggie is the one who steps forward next. "Then why did you bring him here?"

"Because we had no choice, okay? Heaven wanted to erase all of my memories, shortly before kicking me back down to Hell. They didn't want me spreading knowledge that sinners can be redeemed."

Charlie gasps, a hand covering her mouth.

Your conversation is cut short by Adam crashing into the building just above the door. He collapses on the pavement, and you rush to his side, dropping to your knees.

"Adam! Adam, are you okay?"

He coughs, giving his best sarcastic smirk. "Oh yeah, never better."

You look up to see Alastor looming over the two of you.

"Now, (Y/N), I'd rather I didn't have to hurt you, given your relationship with everyone at the hotel and all, but.."

His smile grows wider, saliva dripping down his chin and onto his suit jacket.

"I will if I have to."

Charlie and Vaggie come in between you two, facing Alastor. Charlie raises her hands. "Alastor, stop!"

"Why should I? I'm simply settling something I should have taken care of long ago."

"Because, dumbass," Vaggie speaks up, "They have some information from Heaven that you're going to want to hear."

Once everyone had managed to calm down, you all sat circled in the common area.

Everyone sat on one side of the room, clearly avoiding going near Adam. You and Adam sat together on a separate couch, and you worked on cleaning up his wounds. He looked uncomfortable with it, but nobody else was exactly volunteering to help him.

You had gone through the entire story with everybody from start to finish, explaining why the two of you had no choice but to flee to Hell together.

Finally, after a pause of silence, Adam speaks up.

"Guys.. that's not all I have to tell you."

You cock your head to the side, confused. "What else is there Adam?"

He swallows visibily, and you can suddenly feel the extra layer of tension pile on like a wool blanket in the winter snow.

"..Adam? What else?"

He avoids your gaze for a moment, staring down at his hands, fiddling with his fingers.

Finally, he looks up at you, and pulls a file from underneath his robe.

"I managed to take this before that meeting Sera had.. actually, stealing this was how I found out about that meeting in the first place.

You told me you wouldn't believe what I had to say without proof, and I told you I would prove it. So, here it is."

He shakily hands you the file. You furrow your brows and look up at him, but he refuses to make eye contact with you. You briefly glance around the room, and Charlie gives you a small, but encouraging nod.

You take the file, quickly opening it and scanning over it. The first thing you notice is Sera's official, magical seal stamped at the bottom of the page.

Okay.. so this is real.

You read over the contents of the page..

And your head snaps upwards, eyes going big, staring directly at Adam.

"I.. Adam.. you.."

He swallows again, nodding at you before turning to the rest of the room.

"It's true, (Y/N)..

Your name.. your real name, is Eve. You were my second wife."

Everyone in the room gasps. Charlie leaps to her feet. "(Y/N), please let me see that file."

You hand it to Charlie, your hand shaking violently, eyes still round with shock.

She scans over it herself before passing it to Vaggie, who then passes it around the room.

Another uncomfortable silence settles over the room after everybody finishes reading.

"So.." Angel speaks up, "You have the power of reincarnation, huh? That's pretty cool."

Adam replies for you. "She wasn't able to use it to it's full ability with her memory erased, but with the file we took, she can get that all back."

He picks the papers up, flipping through to the end. Fused to the page sits a small, round cracker. He picks it up and holds it out to you. "Eat this."

You raise an eyebrow. "A jesus cracker is the way to get my memories back?"

He rolls his eyes. "Don't be a sarcastic bitch okay? Just eat it."

You roll your eyes back, taking the cracker and placing it on your tongue. At first, you feel nothing, and start to get angry, thinking Adam must've pulled some shitty joke on you.

Then, all at once, it all floods back to you.

You feel your body fall back against your will, your limbs going numb, unable to move.

You can hear people shouting around you, the concerned cries of your friends, but all their voices fade to a blur as the memories come rushing in.

Suddenly, your ears begin to ring, and your vision goes black.

And then you lose total conciousness.

You wake a while later. When you first open your eyes, all you see is darkness. It takes a second to adjust, but you quickly realize you're in one of the hotel bedrooms.

You sit up fast, a little too fast, and your head throbs.

Your hand flies to your forehead, cradling it as you squeeze your eyes shut.

You take a moment to process all of the new information swimming around in your brain.

And once you remember, really remember..

You feel your blood boil.

Storming out of the room and down the stairs, you find everybody still lounging around, still awkwardly avoiding Adam, who sat in the center of the room.

Adam, you thought. My 'husband.'

You walk directly up to him.

Everyone turns to you, shocked to see you finally awake, but you completely tune them out. You march straight up to him, and he nervously looks up as you approach.

"(Y/N).. so.. you remember?" He asks quietly.

"Oh, I remember." You smile. "But hey, Adam. Could you do me a favor?"

"What is it?"

"Take off your mask."

His eyes go wide, looking around the room as everybody watches. "I'm not sure I feel comfortable right now, okay?"

"Adam.

Take off.

Your mask."

He looks around again, then slowly lifts his hands to his mask.

He removes it, and you see his face again.

That face you remember clear as day, now.

You smile again.

Then suddenly, you swing your right fist into his face as hard as you can fucking manage, your knuckles making direct contact with his jaw bone.

He flies backwards, falling flat on his ass.

"Ow. OW! What the fuck, (Y/N)?" He shouts, cradling his jaw. Then, more quietly, he whimpers, "Why does she keep punching my jaw?"

You feel hot tears building up in your eyes. "That's for letting them erase my memories, motherfucker!"

He blinks, his brows furrowing. "(Y/N), if you remember everything, then you remember I had no choice."

"Oh yeah, Adam. I definitely remember how hard you did not fight for me."

He scoffs. "What the fuck was I supposed to do? You accepted the forbidden fruit. That was you, not me."

"I was still your wife, Adam! You were still supposed to protect me."

A look of hurt crosses his face, before he quickly replaces it with anger. "Well, maybe, if my dear wife didn't decide to listen to fucking Lucifer, I would have been able to protect her!" He yells, his voice raising louder and louder.

Husk attempts to speak up. "Uh, hey guys.."

You ignore him, shouting louder than Adam. "Maybe I listened to Lucifer because maybe he treated me like a fucking person, and not some item to possess!"

Adam flinches. "I was proud to have you as my wife. That's a crime now?"

Your tears roll freely now, dripping down your chin and onto your clothes. You ignore them, you ignore everyone surrounding the two of you, your focus completely on Adam.

With your memories back, that also meant all the hurt was back. The pain, the betrayal you felt when you had your memories erased.

"I looked at you the entire time, Adam. I watched you the entire time they broke in. When they drug me out of our home. When they held me down, when Sera performed the ritual.

I watched you the entire time. I watched, because I believed my husband would save me. And if he couldn't I believed he'd fight."

Your words are cut off by the choked sobs that escape your throat. You swallow them down, willing yourself to continue.

"Instead of seeing you fight for me, I watched as my husband stood by and let them completely erase my mind. And then you stood by and watched as they sent me down to hell. Or, should I say what really happened?"

Adam shakes his head. "(Y/N).."

"No, they didn't send me to Hell on purpose." You continued. "Their ritual went wrong, and it fucking killed me, and you watched it happen."

Adam steps forward, trying to reach out for you, but you jump back as quickly as you can. "Don't fucking touch me Adam."

Brows knit together in frustration, he pulls back from you.

"I didn't want any of that to happen, (Y/N), but if I fought, what if they erased my memories too? Got me killed, too? I would've ended up in Hell with you."

You turn, suddenly unable to hold your anger down any longer. You scream at him.

"Then at least we would have still been together! We could've met again! I could have found you! But you fucking abandoned me, Adam."

He opens his mouth to respond, but Charlie steps in between you two, bringing you back to reality.

"You guys.. I'm sorry, but maybe this should wait until you're in private." She puts a hand on your shoulder, giving you a look of pity.

"We just, don't want to make any mistakes out of anger, right?"

You stare directly at Adam.

"The only mistake I ever made, was loving a man like you, and trusting you to protect me."

You turn away, not wanting to see the hurt in his eyes at this, and run up the stairs.

You slam your bedroom door, locking it, and collapse into your bed.

Exhausted, you cry until you fade into a deep slumber.

Part 7 out now!

Don't forget, I'm always accepting requests

Chapters I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII

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zer0brainc3lls · 2 months ago

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Pineapple Chapstick

masterlist

summary: usually Friday is Newt and Thomas's day off but Thomas's grouchy boss Janson called him into work so Newt spends the cold day alone, with the exception of their cat bubbles. and newt has also lost his favorite chapstick.

TWS: none! super fluffy <3 (not re read, we die like Newt)

word count: 1.1k

Friday is Newt and Thomas’s day off, but today Thomas’s grouchy boss Janson called him in to work so Newt woke up to a cold empty bed and a house lacking the scent of breakfast. He sighs sadly and rolls over, slams his hand down on the bedside and moves his hand across the wood to eventually find his phone. He sits up and switches on his phone.

9:36am

No Notifications

He pockets his phone before swinging his legs out of the bed, pulling the corner of the blanket away as he does so as to not get caught between the blanket. He claws around in his wardrobe grumbling to himself about Janson, quickly changing and popping his old clothes in the dirty laundry basket and walks over to the kitchen to make himself a small breakfast of jam on toast.

The day is agonizingly slow for a Friday, usually Fridays are for movie watching and silently getting work done on the couch and that is exactly what Newt does except Thomas’s absence makes the day seem duller. Newt absolutely hates Thomas’s boss, constantly berating him and yelling at him for almost no reason at all and he always comes home looking ready to collapse. Newt opens the drawer with the cutlery violently until he hears a soft purr and feels warm fur rub against his leg. Newt looks down to see a white ragdoll kitten with black ears, muzzle along with black legs and tail that slowly fade into gray and eventually white. Big blue eyes look up at Newt as bubbles (Thomas insisted on the name) meows loudly.

“Hey bubba!” Newt exclaims in a high pitched voice, crouching down to scratch the kittens head. Bubbles continues to meow impatiently. “Yes yes I know!” Newt babies as he goes to the cabinet to fetch Bubbles her food, Newt would never be caught dead using the tone he is using at the moment. One time Newt thought he was home alone so he used his usual baby talk with bubbles not noticing Thomas in their doorway RECORDING. (he still has not lived that down. Luckily only Thomas knows about that one) Newt quickly feeds bubbles and finishes making his own food.

Newt spends a few hours lounging around and getting some work done on his laptop, just answering emails and such. (it took so long admittedly because he was going down a youtube rabbit hole) eventually he goes to leave the house to run some errands, he throws on his coat before leaving. The cold in the air makes his lips more chapped than normal so as he walks down the street he reaches into his pocket for his pineapple chapstick to find his pocket empty. Must've left it in his dresser drawer.

An hour or two later he throws his front door open to find his apartment to be no warmer than the outside. Unfortunately Newt and Thomas rent and cannot afford to buy heaters so he jumps onto the couch and covers himself in the blanket they have draped across the couch, bubbles practically waddling over and paws at the couch, much too short to jump up. Newt picks her up and places her in his lap, cooing and petting her.

Newt turns on the TV and plays Brooklyn 99, attempting to snuggle into the blankets on the couch and rubbing his hands together. After 4 episodes of his favorite show Newts lips can no longer be kept at bay with just licking, where the hell did he put his chapstick?! Newt searches his dresser drawer, then Thomas's, then in between the couch, under the couch to no avail. “Did you take my chapstick bubbles?” He questions the cat sarcastically, hands on his hips and uses her proper name instead of calling her bubba, as if she's in trouble. Bubbles is sitting on the couch looking up at Newt quizzically, she tilts her head and meows as if replying back. Newt pretend gasps and says, “So you did take my chapstick! Well where did you put it?!” He walks off to the kitchen as he says the last sentence to look for his chapstick, talking more to himself instead of the innocent cat bubbles.

many , many episodes of brooklyn 99 and much increased chapped lips later it is now 5:42pm and newt listens to the sounds of heavy footsteps walking through the apartment building, he hears keys clashing against each other before dropping to the floor and a familiar voice in behind the front door going

“oh for fuck sake!” before picking up his keys and opening the door.

“Honey, I'm home!” Thomas announces in a sing-song voice as if in a 90s sitcom. He says that every single time he comes home, despite this the overused joke manages to get Newt to chuckle before swinging his legs off the couch to greet Thomas. He quickly walks over eager to embrace the shorter man.

“Hey tommy!” Newt says in a chirpy tone, he slows to a stop in front of the brunette before lifting his chin with the side of his index finger and kissing him softly. Thomas’s hums against his lips, Newt can feel his lips curve into a smile. Newt pulls away, a strange stickiness now on his lips. He goes to lick it off, as he does his eyes widen in shock.

“Thomas.” he questions, eyebrows raised. Thomas’s eyes widen in shock as if he's a child who got caught taking the last biscuit from the biscuit tin.

“Did you, or did you not, steal my chapstick!” Newt accuses him, the taste of pineapple still on his tongue. Newt takes a step back and gestures with his arms wide to the whole apartment, “I searched all day for that!” he groans, trying to sound harsh but instead only sounding mildly annoyed.

Thomas laughs saying with a grin “you want it back?” he takes a step towards Newt, closing the distance once more.

“Yes I would actually-” Newt is promptly silenced as Thomas cups his face, making him tilt his head down slightly before kissing him deeply. Chapstick entirely forgotten Newt closes his eyes and wraps his arms around the shorter’s waist, pressing Thomas's body against his own. Thomas’s hand moves from Newt's face up into his hair, Newt hums happily at the change and bites Thomas's bottom lip, gesturing for him to open his mouth. Usually, Thomas obliges with hesitation but today he takes one of Newt's hands around his waist, places the chapstick in Newt's hands and pulls away.

“There you go babe!” he says happily, kissing the corner of Newt's now agape, shocked mouth. Thomas’s walks away to the couch clearly fighting back a laugh, Newt stands there in shock for a moment before turning around, exclaiming “you're such a bloody tease, y’know that!!” Thomas finally breaks out into laughter, flopping down onto the couch.

Authors note!!: hehehehehe i came up with this idea yesterday when putting on pineapple chapstick, hence the name!! this is so stupid and random but i dont care lol and also I BET ON LOSING DOGS CHAPTER 4 IS ALMOST DONE!!! *silently cheers for myself because i have been struggling with it*

#bubbles the cat #bubbles is a fan made character me and a few mutuals came up with #JOIN US!! JOIN THE BUBBLES CULT!!#the maze runner #tmr #maze runner #newtmas #tmr newt #tmr thomas #tmr fandom #tmr bubbles

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thecrownedbeast · 6 months ago

Note

Kitten doesn't show up the next day, or the next. However, Papi does call Michael to let him know—in an immensely friendly voice—that he's working out the details with his lawyers and agents, preparing the contract for the bunker to be signed. He assures the strange man from Los Angeles that he doesn't anticipate any problems at all, but doesn't mention Kitten at all.

However, the second night finds Michael awakened in his bed by a loud crash downstairs, like something very expensive has been broken in a violent manner, hurled at someone. What follows is the sound of a scuffle between two people, four feet on the ground grinding into the expensive hardwood in their attempts to gain ground and four arms grappling and slapping to get the upper hand.

Finally, one of them does. Kitten snarls and runs up on the arm of a couch, leaping off the back and coming down hard on the other criminal. She drives her freckled knee into his throat before swinging around and wrapping her legs around his back like vice, her hard forearm over his throat, squeezing ruthlessly.

The little redhead hisses something angrily into his ear, baring her sharp teeth as he slowly suffocates and hits his knees amongst the broken pieces of the destroyed vase. He then collapses forward, dead.

She's left standing there, looking down at the body and panting, blood going down the backs of her bare legs where she'd been thrown unceremoniously on the shards of porcelain like a ragdoll. A large piece the size of her palm it is still jutting out of the side of her thigh, and she rips it out unceremoniously, tossing it to the ground with a sigh.

Kitten leans down, searches the man's pockets, and jerks a stolen tablet out from the inner pocket of his jacket. It's Michael's, and she sets it gingerly on a nearby table. It's covered in blood, but unharmed.

Michael is once again concerned by his own reaction to Kitten’s absence. It feels like a loss all on its own. A dull ache in the same place as that first stab so many years ago. He tries to get a hold of himself, remind himself that he’s here for business. Extremely important end of the world business. But Kitten has somehow found a little crevice in his mind to curl into and linger.

He’s instantly suspicious of Richard’s behavior. He didn’t expect him to mention Kitten, of course, but it was noted how pleasant he was and the mention of no problems being anticipated. When he hears the fight, he jumps from bed and without thinking, teleports to his living room. He witnesses the struggle, choosing not to interfere as Kitten was handling herself expertly. When she sets the tablet down is when he speaks up.

“Are you all right?” He steps closer, cautious for her sake.

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magickhajiit · 1 year ago

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Unwilling ally

Masterlist

The people who took them, plucked them one by one from their mission observing a Hydra cell in Alaska, may have been great kidnappers but they needed a little help on what to do with their victims once the deed had been done. Scott had been left on a gurney, a power dampener clamped around his wrist, in a damp room with a flickering light, sharp tools laid out beside him. Both his arms are strapped to the bed with thick ropes, the mission must not have been important enough to splash out on real handcuffs. Wiggling out of them is easy, and when he grabs his glasses, tucking them into his pocket and moves to the door he spares a moment to smile when it swings open, unlocked and without any alarms.

Bullets ricocheting down the corridor quickly stamp out any joy he has. Taking off down the corridor he has a few seconds to take in the sight of unfamiliar mutants and men fighting before he’s tackled to the ground, an inhuman noise ripping from his throat as pain erupts down his back. The clogging stench of wet dog assaulting him fills in the missing pieces of the situation.

Magneto’s new ‘brotherhood of evil mutants’ had been taking the headlines recently. Tales of their crimes reaching the press every other day. Whichever anti-mutant group had snagged Scott and the X-men had also caught the ire of the Master of Magnetism clearly. Bad for them, bad for Scott too. Though the X-men and Brotherhood hadn’t fought yet, his team had gone against Magneto dozens of times before.

---------------------

Which is why he’s surprised when the mutant atop of him, probably Sabretooth from the smell of dog breath, is yanked off him violently. Struggling till he’s able to prod at the scratches running down his back, he’s greeted with red when he pulls his hand back. The crimson of his blood surging out and now trailing down his wrist. Then the amber of Jean’s hair as, out of the corner of his eye, he sees her lifted like a ragdoll and thrown, Exodus hovering before her. The red of Magneto’s costume as he returns to the ground, making his way toward Scott. He let his eyes slip closed as the mutant gets closer, Exodus trailing behind. Faintly he can hear the order to get him into the jet, right before Exodus prods at his mind and darkness takes over.

When he wakes again he’s in a bed, soft blankets wrapped around him. Weariness has engulfed him, the type of exhaustion that comes from being held unconscious by a telepath rather than from the drugs slowly being pumped into his system. A woman’s hand gently stroking his face makes him force his eyes open. It’s Jean, perched on a chair by his bedside, green eyes crinkled with worry, red hair tangled, tendrils of it escaping.

It’s Jean until it’s not Jean. Scott watches as yellow is injected into green eyes, the colours swirling together until only gold remains. He watches her red hair darkening till it’s the shade of falling leaves in August, her opulent skin turning blue. Mystique.

Before he can yell, or reason his way out of this situation, whatever this situation is, he feels a psychic touch knock on the front door of his mind, letting itself in when he doesn’t answer. Before the red-skinned mutant slips into his view, Scott knows it's Exodus breaking down his mental barriers, tearing down walls and rooms as soon as he can construct them. In the back of his mind, he wonders why Magneto feels the need to keep cannon fodder like Toad around when he has soldiers like Exodus, mutants surely able to bring countries down to their knees with a bit of strategic planning.

‘That is what we need you for.’

The words don’t make sense to him at that moment, and when he’s dragged back to the waters of unconsciousness with a firm nudge of the telepath’s power it fades from memory. When he wakes up the next day, still in the med room but thankfully without company, the remnants of another memory linger, an alabaster face and cold red eyes greeting him when he closes his eyes. His throat feels dry and raw like he’d been screaming. A headache brews in his mind, he has the feeling his mind has been pilfered every memory having been plucked out before being shoved haphazardly back into its specific box.

There are two metal hoops around his wrists now, below the puncture marks where the inhibitor was clamped on. They’re tight enough not to be removed but loose enough not to be restrictive. Realistically he knows there’s little chance of escaping the Master of Magnitism’s base with a strip of steel on your person, not that that knowledge stops him from trying.

Surprisingly Magneto is the one to find him, Scott would have thought the man had something better to do than chase prisoners across his creepy metal base. Diving around the corner and stumbling straight into the man’s chest wasn’t what Scott had been expecting to happen. Magneto has lifted his hand, by the time Scott manages to spin around, one gesture clamping the metal bracelets together and raising them in the air, leaving Scott connected to the ground by the tips of his toes.

‘’Did you really think you were going to escape?’’ Magneto carries on with his tirade when Scott doesn’t bother to answer the question. ‘’We are currently miles from the nearest town. And if by some miracle you managed to get there, alone, without food or adequate clothing, it’s not a let’s say very progressive place in terms of mutant rights.’’ Another gesture and the cuffs are lowered to the ground, as they walk Magneto grips the back of Scott’s neck like he’s an unruly kitten rather than a mutant prisoner.

‘’I don’t look like a mutant right now.’’

‘’You were injected with a high dosage of a new mutant power dampener. Our best doctor believes you’ll have your optic beams back in a couple of days.’' After a multitude of lefts and rights, they arrive back at the med bay, the metal door swinging open for them.

‘’I need my glasses back. My powers... I can’t control them.’’

Without being asked Scott sits back on the bed, reluctantly raising his arm as the Magneto manipulates the needle back in. He wouldn’t admit it but the scratches on his back had started to prickle with pain, a burning sensation on his back.

‘’I’ll make sure you have them Cyclops. And don’t fret you will be home soon enough.’’ Settling down Scott just nods, suddenly too tired to form words.

------------------

Magneto wasn’t lying as it turned out. The next time he wakes it's due to the loud humming of a jet’s engines. Opening his eyes, the world is bathed in a familiar crimson, the weight of the glasses on his nose is a comfort. He’s sat on the floor, back resting against one of the chairs, hands pinned to the floor in front of him. The crick in his neck lets him know they’ve been flying for a few hours. Sabretooth is stood guarding him, amber eyes lazily watching him. He’s facing the wrong way but faintly Scott thinks he can hear Mystique and Magneto conversing in the cockpit.

A couple of hours later, long enough his wrists have gone numb and his limbs are begging to be stretched, the jet lands. He quickly rises to his feet when the cuffs linking him to the ground flow away, Magneto’s hand steadies him when his body jolts forward. Wrapping one arm around him Magneto walks him down the ramp, he sighs in relief when he sees the school. Jean’s at the front door, donning a cream dress rather than her latex suit, her mouth agape.

‘’You’ve served the cause well, child.’’ Scott flinches from the older mutant when he hears those words, making him sound like a loyal soldier rather than an unwilling prisoner. Without warning Magneto increases the pressure on his shoulder, encouraging him to his knees, on the soft, damp grass. The hand is gone quickly, the sound of a rustling cape marking his departure.

By the time Jean has made her way to him, the Brotherhood’s jet is in the air. The smell of coconuts fills his nose when she engulfs him in a hug, red hair in his face. It’s a welcome relief after the week of the wet dog odour of his guard and the stale, air of the medbay. Through Jean’s cries, he can feel a different mind touching his, with more care and delicacy than Exodus had shown. It stifles the pinpricks of pain lighting up now the pain meds were wearing off before it skims through his recent memories, opening them up with the care reserved for opening open a family scrapbook, taking time to look over each picture.

When he’s done Xavier opens the link a little wider, letting his care and worry bleed through the link. Burying his face into Jean’s shoulder Scott feels his eyes prickle, the relief to be home finally overwhelming him.

This was meant to be one of those 30 minute writing activities, ended up being an hour and a half and I'm not a big fan of most of it. But I thought I'd post it anyway. I've been a bit obssessed with brother of evil mutants fanfics recently. If anyone knows of or has written any I'd love to give them a read.

#my writing #x-men #marvel fanfiction #exodus #magneto #cyclops fanfiction #cyclops #jean grey x scott summers #brotherhood of evil mutants #kidnapping #double kidnapping #brother of evil mutants fanfic #scott summers fanfic #scott summers #x men fanfiction

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deadlydevotion · 1 year ago

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Vash yanks him off his feet and swings him around like a ragdoll and its only the Revenant's intimate knowledge of his- their body's lithe grace and range of movement that keeps him from tumbling entirely. He's moving again not of his own accord within a moment, yanked along like a puppet on their invisible strings.

He's not in control of anything here, he doesn't even have control of his own body and the thought is ice water in his veins, catches in his throat and makes him choke on his next breath. He's fought so hard for control over everything but the master he chose and now he's again no more then a doll for someone else to play with.

"Knives!" "Master!" Identical voices call as Knives descends, one cut off with the crack of metal to the side of his head while the other seizes the opportunity.

"I can't free more then one at a time," the living Legato shouts, explanation for his attack as quick as he can manage. A blow to the skull might rattle the Revenant but he doubts it will keep him down. He's proven right when he's yanked into motion again, darting between the blonde and the undead as Stampede finally moves. "Vash has a minute-!" He's cut off as his jaw snaps shut with an audible 'crack!' of teeth.

"You don't deserve to address our Master so intimately! You deserve nothing!" The Revenant shouts and grabs Legato by an arm, flinging him away-

Straight into the path of the cable attached to the Colt. Right arm outstretched, it snags and twists around his forearm with the force of the throw, digging in hard enough Legato winces even as he snatches the cable to reel in the gun. The Revenant turns and snarls, focusing on laying his threads thick in the air to catch at everyone, Knives now included.

Legato, still bound by the other's will, settles the Colt in his hand, pivots, brings the gun up and Vash is too close he's too close Legato hardly needs to aim and he can't even scream a warning with his jaw wired shut-

The gun fires, trigger pulled once, adjust for the kick, twice. Center of mass, lung shot, slow bleeding death, choking on blood, not quick, not instant, not clean. No no no nonono Vash he was trying to protect for once in his life he wanted to protect-!!

"Suffer! All of you suffer!! This is your fault Vash the Stampede!! Your doppelganger will die, this inferior reflection of me will never deserve my Master's name, Master will not choose you over me again!!" The Revenant shrieks wildly, yanking on threads to contort his victims violently.

@blankticket @plantfell @amoirsetpacis

It takes his brother's second attempt at contacting him for Knives to jump into action. Worrisome as it was to hear his brother call out, only to receive silence when he returned the call, there were plenty of ways to excuse the odd parts of Vash's first attempt at contact. Maybe he got distracted, maybe he misjudged how long he had to use his powers. His brother had his phone number, if it was important, there were ways to get in contact with him.

Excusing the strange distant quality of Vash's voice when he calls out wondering where Knives is the second time, is much harder to excuse. Within minutes, the plant is out the door and soaring through the skies above the wards looking for his brother. Periodically he calls out in hope of a response, but ultimately he finds Vash before he ever hears anything from him.

As high up as he is, it's difficult for Knives to fully discern what is going on. There's four figures surrounded by countless more figures. It's obvious that two of them are Vash and Little Vash, and Knives would recognize that blue hair anywhere. Except, there's two nearly identical heads of blue hair. The plant's heart sinks as he realizes what that must mean. It's a delicate situation, he needs time to think and come up with a plan-

Bang!

The skull on the shoulder of one of the Legato's shatters and he shouts something at the Vash that shot him. Then the other Legato lunges at Little Vash. For one short moment, Knives hopes it Legato coming to his brother's doppelganger's aid, but it's quickly apparent that's not the case. Damn it! There's no time to think, he has to act now.

Without another thought, Knives dives towards the ground and lands with a flourish of feathers which quickly dissipate as soon as his feet are back on the ground. Closer now, it's clearer that the situation is more dire than he knew. It's almost difficult to find one point to focus on. The gun pressed again Little Vash's chin, the state of his Vash, the state of the relevant Legato and his mutilated skull.

"What the hell is going on here?" Knives tries to find that part of him that found it so easy to berate Legato in their world. To project an aura of dominance and put an end to the conflict with his influence over the human alone. His words, however, lack bite. Oh, he still has a commanding, barking voice, but worry is the dominating emotion, not superiority. Still, Knives tries. "Stand down, Legato."

@blankticket @amoirsetpacis @deadlydevotion

#amoirsetpacis: giant challenge #amoirsetpacis #blankticket #plantfell #thr 2 amoirsetpacis #thr 3 blankticket #thr 7 plantfell #physical restraint cw #long post

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woeismywaffle · 2 years ago

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SCREAMED LIKE A FUCKING BANSHEE.

EARTHSPARK.

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jupitermelichios · 4 years ago

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So I’ve been playing a lot of skyrim lately, because it’s video game comfort food, and I decided it was time for my Redguard Dovahkiin to settle down. (Actually I specifically just wanted to be able to adopt some of the random orphans you meet because I felt guilty about them, but you need to be married before you can do that so that there’s someone at home to take care of the kids while you’re off galivanting).

So I travelled around a bit, chatting up likely looking npcs until I found one I both liked and didn’t feel guilty about marrying (I feel bad if I marry one of the warrior adventurer types, making them be a stay at home mum) and settled on an obnoxiously cheerful argonian called Shavee because her life was frankly shit, and I thought she’d probably be good with kids.

So off I go to Riften to the Temple of Mara to arrange the wedding. I book it in for the next day, realise I didn’t bring anything nice to wear, and spend the night before the wedding robbing every house in the city in the search for something to wear. Eventually decide everyone in Riften has terrible fashion sense and break down everything I stole into raw materials and use them to craft myself an outfit and some jewellery that i’m pretty happy with. I even carefully pick out my fanciest looking sword to wear.

(don’t know why I bothered, frankly, shavee turned up wearing a shirt covered in suspicious stains and weilding a pickaxe, it’s like she doesn’t even care about this marriage)

(also for comedy purposes, bear in mind I play with survival mods that mean my character needs to eat and sleep to live, and I literally spent the entire ingame night on this and forgot to eat and drink anything either and then just downed four bowls of wolf stew right before entering the temple so I didn’t starve during the ceremony. also I discovered during the wedding that I am dying of rockjoint, which I contracted from sleeping in a pile of hay on the floor of a skeever infested cave, so even being six foot tall and jacked can’t make up for the fact that I am exhausted, running a fever, and probably covered in wolf which I spilled because my joints are slowly atrophying, and even the fanciest clothes in the world aren’t going to cover that up)

so I enter the temple, and my finance is there, and Lydia my housecarl, and some random NPCs the game thinks are my friends because I did fetch quests for them

One of the random NPCs is Lisbet. Atfter I did her fetch quest, I then did another quest in which I discovered Lisbet is secretly a cannibal and part of a demonic cult that worships the daedric prince of decay by kidnapping priests, sacrificing them, and then eating their corpses. Raw. I think the raw meat is the sticking point for me here honestly.

I ultimately decided not to sacrifice the random priest to a daedric prince in exchange for one magic ring and all the raw human I could eat, because frankly, that doesn’t sound like much of a deal to me. I was expecting there to be some kind of dialogue choice where I could nope out at the last minute, but it turns out there isn’t one, so after they drugged the priest and tied him to the altar, I just got out my sword and started swinging.

I killed most of the cult (including the town butcher, because I had brought meat from him before and was extremely pissed off that he might have been secretly feeding me humans) but a couple of them got away, which I figured was fine because they weren’t trying to kill me.

Except it turns out, if any of them escape, then every time you see them in the future there’s a random chance that they’ll fly into a violent rage and try and murder you.

Lisbet is at my wedding. Lisbet decides that clearly me marrying this random argonian woman with two lines of dialogue is the happiest day of my life, and she cannot allow me that happiness, when I’ve taken so much from her.

So she tries to kill me. Only she can’t, because I’m stuck in a pre-rendered wedding animation, and also she’s sitting next to Lydia, my faithful retainer and owner of a really big axe.

It also turns out that Lisbet is essential, meaning she can be knocked unconcious but not actually killed because she’s needed for some quest or other. And the minute she wakes up from unconciousness, she tries to kill me again, so Lydia knocks her unconcious again, and I’m stuck, I can’t move, because I’m supposed to be in the wedding animation.

Except Shavee has, not unreasonably, see all this and decided that she doesn’t like me enough to risk getting murdered, and has done a runner, leaving me at the altar, but more importantly, leaving me trapped in a broken pre-rendered animation, so all I can do is stand there at the altar, staring at the space where my fiance was supposed to be, listening to the sounds of Lydia trying and failing to beat a cannibal to death behind me.

Okay, I think, clearly this wedding isn’t going to happen, I’m going to go for the registry office option and complete the wedding using the dev commands. I do this. The priest gives me a wedding ring, and I can finally move again. I chase after Shavee, who has an impressive turn of speed on her, and eventually catch up right by the city gates. I try to talk to her.

Apparently using the console has completed the wedding for me, but not for her, because she still only has the same 2 lines of dialogue she usually has.

Clearly this is working, I can’t leave my kids with someone who can only say 2 things and doesn’t even know she’s their mum, that’s irresponsible.

I try loading from inside the temple. I get the same problem.

Eventually I figure out that I need to use the dev controls to disable Lisbet’s entire existence in the universe.

Shavee and me get married. As the priest reads the vows, I stare at Shavee and wonder why she couldn’t even be bothered to put on a clean shirt. I wonder what kind of mother she’ll be.

Once the ceremony is over, and I’m happily married to the dirty green lizard of my dreams, and we’ve agreed that until I can make her recognise my extremely nice modded house exists I will share her single bed in the unheated flophouse in Windhelm she calls home, I re-enable Lisbet, because I’m worried I’ll forget if I leave it too long.

Fun fact about skyrim, it loads in quite a lot of npcs and objects by dropping them from the sky. I have no idea why this is the case, but it’s objectively the funniest way to load in objects.

I re-enable Lisbet. She falls from the sky, clips through the roof of the temple, and lands in the pew beside Lydia, stands up, draws a knife, and is immedately beaten unconcious.

I no longer care, because Shavee now has all the exciting new spouse-only romantic dialogue options like “Could you cook something for me” and “have you made any money lately”, and I know she’ll be a great mother.

I limp to the door of the temple, while around me the guests not involved in the Lydia-Lisbet murder cycle scream and duck for cover.

I open the door to the temple, immediately collapse and ragdoll down the steps, which is how I discover I am dying of rockjoint.

I limp to the orphanage down the street, adopt two kids, and then finally remember that I’m carrying garlic bread, which as we all know, cures all known illnesses.

When I emerge back into the street, full of the joys of motherhood and garlic bread, I find the town in disaray. Lydia is chasing Lisbet through the streets with an axe and a dragon is circling overhead, burning npcs to death. People are running for shelter, screaming, while the guards try to take down an entire dragon using only the worst bows and arrows in the game.

I decide that as a parent, I have to think of my own safety first and leave them to it.

I head out of the city, intent on returning home and figuring out why Shavee refuses to move in with me. A man hanging around the stables challenges me to a boxing match. For want of anything better to do, I agree.

Halfway through the fight he dodges at the wrong moment and I punch one of his horses in the head.

Two guards attack me while I desperately try to surrender. My kids will miss me, but I’m prepared to go to jail for my horse crimes, I’m an honest citizen. Also my horse crimes seem somewhat less important than the dragon.

The guards refuse to accept my surrender. I am stabbed to death. As I collapse in front of the indifferent horse, Lisbet exits the city, followed by Lydia. The last thing I see before I die is Lydia swinging her axe at Lisbet’s face.

#skyrim #spoilers #technically #although this game is a decade old and we all own at least two versions of it at this point #so i'm not sure it counts #long post

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mianavs · 3 years ago

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the assault

In Lima with You part 4

a/n: this marks the beginning of the end for this story. like previous parts in this story and it’s predecessor, there’s some messed up stuff going on in this part.

tw: non-con, dark content, nsfw, violence

wc: 1.7k+

In Lima with You

You had been scrubbing for a good thirty minutes, yet the bright red from the tomato sauce you’d spilled on your living room carpet was still there.

Glaring at you

Mocking you

Wiping off the beads of sweat that trickled down your brow with the back of your hand, you ran the scrubby through the bucket of soapy water that was now a milky salmon color. After wringing the scrubby of the excess liquid, you went back to scrubbing that spot while ignoring the growing ache in your fingers and the knot in your neck.

It’d been a careless mistake, spilling your spaghetti while your mind had been elsewhere—a common occurrence since the night your fragile world fell apart when Dabi walked out on you.

Almost as careless as the mistake of letting your captor into your heart where he left a mark that spread until it encompassed the entire thing.

A mistake you were now paying the price for, on your hands and knees trying to scrub the mark stain away only to realize it had spread in spite of your efforts.

You fell back on your haunches and threw the scrubby into the bucket. It had been five days since you’d last seen Dabi, and you were starting to lose it.

Every time you heard footsteps outside of your front door, you would rush over and swing it open only to face nothing or a bewildered stranger. The room that had once suffocated you with warmth was now frigid and made it difficult for you to fall asleep in. Your mornings started with you waking from a nightmare that almost always involved Dabi’s death. While at the beginning of his absence you could still go about your day cooking, cleaning, or engaging in a hobby, you eventually spiraled into a depression that made it hard for you to even get out of bed.

Not only was Dabi the death-sentenced protagonist of your nightmares but he was also on your mind all day. His face during your last argument was one that had been burned into your memory. You could still see the blank look that flashed in his cerulean eyes, the twitch of his mutilated mouth, and then the shock that seeped from every pore in his body as he staggered away from your enraged form.

You’d been the one wronged that day, yet Dabi was the one that fled, leaving you with an all-consuming guilt. It didn’t make sense but then again neither did the overwhelming pain festering away in your heart the more time passed without seeing him, touching him, loving him.

Love. It was a ridiculous notion when you thought about it.

Dabi had been the monster that kidnapped you. He’d broken you down physically and mentally to mold you into the obedient darling you now were, but even with the plethora of scars all over your body, you couldn’t help but feel empty without him. Even with the door unlocked and nothing chaining you down to your shared condo, you would leave only to roam around the city for a couple of minutes before a panic seized your entire body; It was that suffocating panic that forced you back home to the comfort of your bed that still smelled of Dabi’s musk and smoke.

You loved Dabi.

You needed Dabi.

So as you dumped the soapy water down the kitchen sink and washed out the bucket, you mulled over your options in tracking Dabi down to tell him how you felt. Then just as you were putting the bucket away, the muffled sound of footsteps captured your attention and you dashed to the front door on impulse.

Where a scarred face with a wicked grin should have greeted you, there was only a red winged man with astonished eyes.

“Y/N,” Keigo breathed. “You’re really here.”

You looked behind him, searching for the man you actually wanted to see. When it was clear he wasn’t there, you turned to your former friend.

“Where else would I be?” You asked before stepping aside to let him in.

“I assumed you’d be with the League,” He answered amusedly, walking in while you shut the door behind him. “But I guess this was a no ex-heroes type of mission.”

“Where’s Dabi?” The question burst from your lips before you could think it through.

Keigo’s smile faltered at your desperate inquiry, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Last I heard they were two cities away wreaking havoc in true League fashion.”

You raised an eyebrow at his mocking tone. “Sounds like you don’t approve of the mission.”

Keigo laughed at that and it left a bitter taste in your mouth. “How about we drop the act, Y/N. It’s just you and me. Dabi isn’t here to punish you.”

His eyes traveled to a fading scar on your forearm before returning to your face. “We both know that what they’re doing is wrong.”

A bitter laugh tore from your throat as you approached him. “So the HPSC selling me for some intel is right? Them drugging me and sending me off to an orphanage is right? How about them trying to sabotage my career? Does all of that seem right to you, Keigo?!”

You were now in front of him, and he had the decency to appear sheepish after your rant. He averted his gaze and said nothing while you let out an exasperated sigh and ran your fingers through your hair.

“Don’t give me that right or wrong crap.” You retorted when your anger simmered. “Hero society deemed me a villain before giving me a chance to prove myself. I won’t stand in the League’s way if they want to bring it down.”

Keigo’s hand shot out and wrapped around your elbow, fingers pressing into one of your scars. You tried shaking him off but Keigo didn’t relent.

“What about the thousands of innocent civilian lives that will be ruined because of them? Will you also stand aside when they’re screaming for their lives?”

His golden eyes bore into yours and memories of a certain mission hit you like a ton of bricks. You remembered the room full of children that you’d saved with Keigo, and for the first time in weeks, you hesitated in defending Dabi and the League’s actions.

“We’re targeting the heroes and the HPSC, not civilians.” You reasoned, wrenching your arm from his grasp.

“We’re?” Keigo sneered, backing you against a wall. “Are you serious?”

At his aggressiveness, the alarms in your head went off but indignation muffled them. You jutted out your chin defiantly. “Yeah, I am. As long as Dabi remains in the League, I will too because... I-I love him and tha—”

Keigo smashed his lips against yours and took hold of your hands before pinning them above your head. Unlike the first kiss he stole from you, this one was harsh and meant to punish. He claimed your mouth with his invading tongue while you wrestled against his bruising grip. It wasn’t until you realized he wouldn’t let up that you bit down on his tongue until he hissed in pain and released you with a curse.

With the metallic taste of Keigo’s blood in your mouth, you tried recovering your breath only to hear a harsh thump that was immediately followed by pulsating pain on the side of your head. You doubled over from the sheer force of Keigo’s blow that left you debilitated and vulnerable.

And that was exactly what Keigo wanted.

In your stupor, you were picked up like a ragdoll and thrown onto your bed, landing face down on a pillow. The sudden motion only worsened what you assumed was a concussion. As a sharp ringing assaulted your ears, all you could do was grip the sheets beneath you in a weak attempt to stop the room from turning.

So when rough hands pulled off your shorts and ripped off your flimsy lace panties, you were too busy burrowing your spinning head in a pillow and swallowing bile to put up a fight. The severity of the situation finally registered with you when you felt the bed dip and rough hands lift your waist until you were on your knees.

By the time your body reacted, it was too late. Keigo pressed you into the mattress with your hands pinned behind your back as he settled between your legs and spread them open with his body.

His cockhead prodded at your entrance a couple of times before he forced it into your dry cunt in one harsh thrust. Horrified and unprepared, you screamed into the pillow that still smelled of Dabi while Keigo violently took you from behind like an animal.

Pain was all you knew throughout Keigo’s assault. It pulsated in your head until it felt like your skull was being split in half. It coursed through your arms that were pushed together and pressed into your back. It ripped through your cunt as Keigo’s cock rammed into you without mercy.

Concussed, restrained, and without your quirk and voice, all you could do was lie there and wait for your body to produce the slick you oh-so desperately needed to ease the ache in your cunt.

Without changing the pace of his hips, Keigo leaned over you and grunted into your ear.

“Don’t you get it, Y/N? I’m doing this because I love you and right now you’re sick. That so-called love you feel for that bastard is a disease. You have Stockholm Syndrome and I’m gonna cure you with each load I shoot up your womb.”

He let out a chuckle and licked the shell of your earlobe, causing bile to surge up your throat. Unable to swallow it down any longer, you used all the strength you could muster to jerk your head over the bed’s edge.

As you regurgitated that day’s lunch, Keigo’s thrusts ceased and he released you with a disgusted grunt.

“Rude bitch,” he growled, pulling you by your hair and pressing his torso against your body. “I tell you I love you and that’s how you react?”

Keigo shoved your face into the mattress and you writhed beneath his weight and grip as your lungs were depleted of oxygen. When your limbs went limp against the bed and black specks stained your vision, the last thing you heard was Keigo’s honeyed words delivering your sentence for falling for your captor.

“Guess I’ll have to take you away from him for you to be cured.”

#hawks x reader #dabi x reader #hawks smut #mha smut #yandere hawks #yandere mha #dabi x reader x hawks #dabi fanfic #mha fanfic #tw noncon #tw dark content #tw violence #navs.mha #navs.ilwy

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fangirl--writes · 3 years ago

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Little Witch Valeska Twins x Reader Pt. 2 Teaser

You didn’t know what stirred over you as the words fell from your mouth.

“Mother- enough.”

The words were demanding, almost pleading.

Her head swiveled around to sneer at your defiance, her eyes were beady voids as she screamed-

“Ungrateful bitch- couldn’t just wait your turn.” The satin robe she wore swished behind her as she turned to you, head lowered like a predator her words dripping with spite. Your eyes went straight to Jerome who groaned in pain, his hands holding on the curve of his shoulder.

“You don’t need to do this-

“Ooh I but I DO.” She tsked… “How else will you fucking brats learn your respect? It’s obvious you haven’t learned your place here.” The handle of the pin was pointed right at you as she thrust her arm forward.

“No, you don’t” Your voice was soft as you shook your head the thoughts just pouring out like water from a faucet. “…we can try… just talk.” Your hands rose and fell swinging wildly with your words pleading.

Hopeful you could reason with her.

The lights flickered over head as the kitchen table shook violently behind you; the appliances clattered as the room tremored. A breath escaped you as you turned to see the cheap furniture drag on the cracked tile.

You mother’s eyes went wide as she took a step back. Her dainty hands wrapped around the rolling pin, holding in close to her chest as she hissed.

Her polished nail, a claw pointed her chest as she snorted. “I should ‘a left you to die that night you were born- I knew something was wrong with you... I didn’t want you; I didn’t want ANY of you ungrateful bastards.”

The lights flickered again as you shook your head, feeling your cheeks flush as emotion swelled in your chest. “I tried so hard to get you to love me to love us.”

“I could never love such a disobedient, ungrateful, freak-

She didn’t mean it.

She’s just angry.

Your hands surged forward.

A stuttered squeak choked from your mother’s throat as her head was thrown back, her body going ridged as her slippers dangled above the tiled floor. The rolling pin hitting the tile with a soft clutter.

You bit your lip at the sight, she was an inch of the floor. Her hands strained as if she was writhing in pain as her mouth hung open like a fish gasping for its last breath.

Your chest heaved as the emotion ripped through you; as quick as she rose, she fell to the floor limp like a ragdoll. A gasping ragged breath echoed through the kitchen as she scrambled to her feet, running to support herself on the counter opposite where Jerome laid slumped against a cabinet.

She shrunk watching you come forward, your eyes were watery as you shook your head voice shaking with pre-sobs. “I-I didn’t mean to. I-I’m sorry.” Your head buzzed as the lights flickers a soft hiss of pain leaving you as your hands went to cradle it.

“Mr. Cicero says it happens when I’m scared- “

“So that’s where you’ve been…” Her lip curled into a sneer as she stood tall against you. A snort left her. “Half the circus thinks you’ve gone to bed with that old weasel; was starting to believe it too, but I didn’t think you’d be into that sort of thing.”

“Stop it.” Your voice dropped; the trailer shook again rattling the appliances. “Mother please…He’s been helping me understand…” Your hands gestured vaguely to the space around you unaware of your mother’s movements slowly stepping back across the tile. “It’s not evil, it’s a gift.”

“A gift?” She mocked with a raspy chuckle stepping toward you now a flash of metal slipped from her hand.

A kitchen knife.

“It’s not a gift- “She sneered. “That. Is. A. Curse… like you... Her steps were quick as she advanced; your shoulders tensed rooting you to the floor as she spat seething- “like all of you.”

Your mother staggered forward her knife thrust forward to point at your chest- “You…you chased him away.” There was a waiver in her voice as she shook rage filling her speech. “You and that psycho tortured him together, tearing this family apart.” You yelped as your mother lunged, the knife raised to plunge into your chest as she screamed a high-pitched battle cry. “I should have killed the lot of you when I had the chance.”

No. Please-

Your heart was pounding, your arms flew up to shield her swing.

A guttural cry echoed through the beaten kitchen; it was a deep moaning pain that lingered in your ears and forced your eyes open.

The axe that had laid by the back door lodged in your mother’s chest- she stood frozen; the knife still raised overhead. Her eyes went white as her skin paled. Her mouth opens to another soft whine, you winced. Your hands trembled as the knife slipped from her grip hitting the tile with a sick ping.

She reached for you as she started to stumble back, your hands flew out to catch her but it was too late and she hit the floor with a heavy thud.

Your chest heaved as your fingers raked through your hair. Your legs went weak as you sank to the floor beside her…

What had you done...?

Gremlin Taglist: Wanna be added? Leave a comment down below ⬇️

@seldomabsent

@gabile18

@valeskaduh

@oreosplease

@theunquenchablethirst

@maria-akira

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@glowingatdawn

@mrsfullbuster500

@shxdowofdarkness

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#jeremiah x reader #jeremiah valeska #jerome valeska #jerome valeska imagine #valeska twins #valeska twin imagines #valeska twins x reader #jeremiah valeska x reader #jerome valeska x reader #valeska sibling #gotham x reader #gotham imagine

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dontf8arthereaper · 2 years ago

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All across the world where Demon doll radio can be heard, the song call Bright hope now amplifying the horror' s abilities and fighting spirit as well as their violent tendencies and it cause all the survivors, the variants even the hardest soldiers the nevermore to fall scattering and becoming more desperate as they' re all loosing, FAST, the war against all the unholy legions of makai is a loss as the horrors finally got more of the upper hand and the tables have turned. The horrors are now the apex predators, while a three sides of the war have reduced into fodder almost immediately, but some have chosen to not go down without a fight because as of now the last remaining survivor of the USAGI the patriarch, the variant Reisen now up against the horrors but mainly the kasha who those horrors let aside, not interfering as this is her fight.

" HAHA! TIME TO CRUSH YOU LIKE BEEHIVE! "

Orin shook her head, already unimpressed with the monster' s representation being all too weak. She pulled out a vial containing both koishi' s and horror' s blood now mixed together.

" Yeah, but here's the thing I sure hope you don't mind if I uh cheat right? Riiiight... " "

' PLLIIIICCCKK!! '

Upon injecting the vial into her entire body the kasha began to undergo a nightmarish transformation, her entire body bulked up to the extreme growing just as tall as the other in front of her, her clothes ripped apart from her now bulky and muscular body and now with Koishi's immense and raw strength and willpower and horror's violent tendencies along with the song bright hope amplifying the horror side of the kasha she had become a horrifying monster, dubbing herself as the monster cat letting out a howl into the dark sky.

" GROOOAAAAAAAULLLL!!!! "

The monster cat Orin now ready to crush as well as decimate the variant Reisen to bits and pieces she cracked her neck and both her fists as she walked towards her in a very menacingly manner.

" Now you are the fuckin' beehive bitch... ~ unyaa...~ "

Reisen immediately unloads every round all from her chaingun arm but the bullets didn't pierce into her body, nor does she inflicted so much damage into the now monstrous kasha in fact it tickled her showing no signs of pain whatsoever. Reisen couldn't believe what is going on, and now it's orin's turn to retaliate swinging her fist into the monster's face lunging her up into the air, where this monstrous kasha leaps in the air catching her slamming her body on the ground and now she crushes her under her feet.

' KROOOOOMMM!!! '

Orin looked down at the variant beneath her feet, flexing her muscles and licking her lips as she's about to give the variant Reisen the most brutal ass kicking of her life for being crush under her feet is just the beginning.

" Gods you' re so fucking pathetic come on! Get up and actually put up a actual fight you little bitch ass pussy! "

Orin grabbed the variant, slamming her and ragdolling her entire large body around with little effort what so ever severely injuring the monster, so bad that Reisen couldn't even fight. She lifts her body up again slamming her knee into her chest crushing her ribs to dust, a couple of times before slamming her head against her face cracking her skull and the crowd roared with cheer, laughter and praise clapping their hands cheering on for the kasha to break the monster more and more while the song bright hope continues playing, now on loop on purpose by Mary just so she can watch the whole show far from her post in washington. Now seeing Reisen all broken and decimated so easily by the monster cat Orin, she begins to start the finale already. She grabs her weapon arm forcibly ripping it off, causing the being to scream in state of agony tossing it away right before she begins opening her mouth wide bitting her in the neck devouring large chunks of her flesh killing her. The horrors all over the world cheered for the kasha kill one of the variant's very best at killing and this drastically decreased their chances of winning. Not even the knights couldn't even believe what just happen. The horrors now cheering began clearing out every variant as they now retreat, but in the end it was no used as they're consumed just like everyone else. Even in the land of makai none could not overcome the power of rock. For bright hope gives them, well...hope.

#muse: Orin Kaenbyou #||| dont fear the reaper |||#meow meow motherfucker #Bright hope!#kkhta vs touhou grotesque land #SoundCloud

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akiraidraws · 3 years ago

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The Storm

Thank you for 120+ followers!

(This fic takes place post-studio)

Summary: During a bad storm that rocks the Stein household, Bendy relives terrifying memories from his time in the studio. Seeking out Henry, Bendy is met with understanding and care as Henry calms the little demon. Comforting him with cuddles and a familiar tune. (Angst, fluff, comfort)

Trigger warning: fear, crying, PTSD, graphic depictions of bad weather

The night was alive with the sound of a particularly violent storm. Wind howled as rain, mighty and strong, pelted down from above. Beating against the windows and roof with purpose. But that was not the worst of it, was not the terror that had driven the little demon to cower under his sheets. Oh no, what frightened Bendy was the flashing lightning and the thunder. Thunder that roared loud and demanding above the Stein household. It was so loud. So very very loud.

Bendy jumped under his makeshift nest as lightning cracked once again, followed by a desperate boom as the sky raged on.

Lightning once again lit up his room so bright as it cracked seemingly right outside the little demons window. The sudden flashes fading away just as quickly as they come. Fleeting and momentary and oh so terrifying.

Bendy was suddenly back in the studio, alone and scared. The light of the Projectionist flashing from afar, hunting its prey as he sat hidden in the shadows behind a pile of old forgotten chairs. The only cover he had being an old, worn down and oddly red colored poncho and scrap of discarded brown cloth tied tightly around his face where a nose should be to cover his iconic features. The large monster was stalking ever closer. His blinding light growing brighter as it flashed, looking for his victim behind inky debris that littered the hall. Throwing aside a hefty desk like it was nothing more than a ragdoll, the Projectionist grew dangerously close to the little demon as he hid. His tail wrapped tightly around his body squeezing as he cowered.

He wrapped himself tighter in his sheets as he squeezed his eyes closed. The light couldn't hurt him. He wasn't in the studio anymore, it couldn't hurt him. It couldn't! It couldn't!

He screamed as the next round of thunder hit. Thunder so loud it shook the Stein house like it was made of cards.

Bendy ran from his bed and out of his room in his terror. He hiccuped as he tried to steady his breath, tears streaming down his yellowed face leaving behind inky black streaks. He made his way to Henry and Linda's room just across the hall from his own. He tried to slowly and quietly creak the door open as to not wake his parents. An attempt that was quickly abandoned as thunder continued to roar over head startling Bendy even further. He yelped and flung the door open running to the side of the bed were Henry was.

Woken from a restless sleep by his sons cries, Henry tiredly turned to face Bendy as the little demon grasped at the sheets and struggled to steady his breathing, burying his face in the comforter and hiccuping.

Gently petting Bendy between his horns Henry coaxed the little demon to look up at him with a tear stained face, still grasping a now inky black tear stained comforter like his little life depended on it.

Lightning cracked once more filling the room with its invasive light. Bendy squeaked and grabbed Henry's outstretched arm hugging onto it as thunder continued to boom over head.

With a tired sigh Henry scooped Bendy up hugging him to his chest as he lie back in bed. He continued gently petting the little demon as he hugged him close with the other arm. Bendy was a trembling, hiccuping mess as he curled up into a ball in Henry's arms pressing his face to the mans chest as he cried and shook.

"What's wrong kiddo?" Henry asked in a soft voice.

He hugged Bendy a little more "It's just a storm. It can't hurt you."

Bendy only curled up tighter in his father's arms as the next crack of lightning struck, engulfing the room once more in its light.

It was so bright in the darkness of night that Henry had to close his eyes. It reminded him of all the times he had fought off the Projectionist in the studio. How bright his lens had been in the darkness of the studio... oh. Oh! The realization of the true cause behind his sons fear hit him suddenly. How had he forgotten about that? Norman had been quite hostile towards Bendy in the studio, believing him to be the ink demon even after Sammy had talked him down and convinced him to join their group. It had taken a lot of convincing just to get Norman to calm down and not harm Bendy when he saw him.

Fully understanding now, Henry hugged Bendy closer.

"Is this about Norman?"

Bendy nodded as he sniffled, his face still buried in Henry's chest.

"Hmm. I thought so." Henry hummed in response.

"It's okay, kiddo. Norman won't hurt you anymore." He cooed softly.

"It's alright."

Linda was stirred from her sleep as Henry cooed reassurances to the little demon in his arms, petting between his horns gently.

She yawned as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Not knowing what was going on, she was rightfully concerned when she noticed the sniffling little demon curled up to Henry. Her voice sounding her concern as she asked what was wrong.

Henry tried his best to reassure Linda that everything was fine, Bendy had just gotten a little spooked by the storm. There was nothing to worry about. Naturally, Linda wasn't quick to set aside her concern for the toon as she gave her husband a look of 'I don't believe you' with a teasing "Sure" to boot.

Cracking a smile at his wife's warmhearted adoration for their son, Henry reached over running his fingers through her short fiery red hair assuring her that Bendy was alright. That he could calm the little demon down himself.

Content with her husbands assurances that he could handle the situation on his own, Linda planted a gentle kiss on Henry's cheek before settling back into bed.

Not wanting to disturb his wife's sleep further, Henry slowly sat up. Making sure Bendy was secure in his arms before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and rising to his feet. Bendy grasping tightly onto Henry's nightshirt as they quietly made their way out of the room and down the stairs to the living room.

Settling into his armchair with Bendy cradled in his arms, Henry gently caressed the little toon’s cheek, wiping away the inky black tears as they slipped down his yellowed face. Henry slowly rocking the chair as the storm raged on outside. Thunder continually roaring overhead as bright flashes fill the modest little house.

Bendy still clinging to his father as sudden flashes and demanding booms fill the empty air of the living room. His tail wrapped tightly around Henry's forearm like a lifeline.

Gazing down at the frightened toon nuzzling into his nightshirt, Henry sighs once more. He hated seeing his son like this. Hated knowing just how much Bendy suffered in the studio without him. It wasn't fair and Bendy never deserved it. No child deserves what he and the others had been through.

It broke his heart to see the sweet little toon he raised be so frightened.

Cradling Bendy closer, Henry gently kissed the little toon’s forehead. His efforts slowly but steadily calming the little demon. Hiccups dissolving into soft sniffles as Henry rocked him, softly humming him a familiar tune. One that Henry had hummed to the toon many a time in the studio. One that he had first heard in the archives.

A personal favorite of Bendy and himself.

The gentle melody partnered with the slow, steady rocking of the armchair gradually soothed the little demon into a sleepy haze. Drifting in and out of consciousness as his father holds him close.

Secure in his fathers caring embrace, sleep soon overtakes the little demon. Little white z's drifting over his head before dissipating into nothingness. A reassurance to Henry of pleasant dreams.

Tired himself, Henry gently reaches over the side of the chair to release the foot rest. Careful not to wake the sleeping bundle in his grasp.

Relaxing back into the chair with his toon son, Henry is quickly finding it hard to keep his own eyes open. Bendy's shallow sleeping breaths lulling him into a sleep of his own. The raging storm outside nothing more than white noise as he drifts off. Joining his son in a peaceful slumber.

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insaneinthepaingame · 3 years ago

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No. 2 - TALKING IS OVERRATED

garotte | choking | gagged

CW: choking, threats, conditioning, magic whump

~~~

Tristan lifted Matthias off the ground by a clawed hand around his neck, lifting him up so the shorter man was at the eye line of his superior. Eyes bugging out, Matthias kicked weakly, scrambling for purchase where there was none. He knew to hold his tongue when Tristan was like this. Talking would only make things so much worse.

The older man’s claws pierce into the skin at the column of Matthias’s neck, thick lines of ink-like blood trickling down his throat. Normally he loved the way the younger one would struggle in vain. But tonight, he was just pissed off with him.

Slamming him back against the unforgiving concrete wall, Matthias saw stars as his head took all too much of the impact. He could feel the hot breath against his neck, the low growl that caused him to tremble, and tried again to pry Tristan’s hands off him, but he was already growing weaker by the second. The hands dropped the second Tristan squeezed harder, and now Matthias was faintly aware of something sharp against the sensitive skin around his throat - fangs. Gasping desperately for air that was coming in all too infrequently, Matthias was really starting to panic now, whimpering raggedly. He wanted to fight back, but he knew it was futile - there was simply not enough strength in him to even try. But the flame of defiance burning inside him had not yet been completely quashed, and against his better judgement, he let out a low growl.

In response, Tristan pressed two fingers under his chin and tilted his head back painfully, making it even harder to get what precious air he was still trying to scrabble for. Tristan could feel him gulp against his palm. It made him shudder in delight. Matthias was the best type of drug.

He sneered all too close to his pet’s beet-red face. "Anything you want to get off your chest, Matthias?"

A loaded question if there ever was one. Matthias growled louder and showed his teeth.

To that, Tristan kneed him fiercely in the stomach and dropped him to the ground in a heap. Matthias crumpled with a yelp, coughing and spluttering and grabbing as much air into his deprived lungs as he possibly could. Snarling, he glared back up at Tristan, his ridges flared up all over. Oh, he knew all Tristan wanted was for him to submit. The pain always ended sooner when he did. But sometimes Matthias was foolish enough to push his luck. In a way, Tristan loved such moments. It was fun to watch how his pet’s defiance grew weaker and weaker every time he fought back. Day by day, he was breaking him. Soon, he wouldn’t even put up a fight. A part of Tristan would miss these moments, but the thought of having such a prideful creature completely under his heel spoke to his most twisted depths.

For good measure, he kicked Matthias square in the stomach, causing another fit of coughs and groans.

“Don’t look at me like that, pet, or I’ll claw the snarl off your face.”

Doubling over, Matthias weakly spluttered, “To the void with you…”

Rolling his eyes, Tristan reached out to grab him again, but Matthias slapped his hand away. The tiniest trace of a malicious smile danced across the corners of Tristan’s mouth, but he quickly masked it with a cold glare. “Hit me again and I’ll break one of your fingers.”

“Don’t touch me and I won’t have to hit you,” Matthias snapped back, regretting it almost the second he said it, but he was in too deep now.

“I will do as I please with you. Get up.”

Matthias gulped, glaring up at his tormentor, saying nothing, but not moving.

Clenching his fist, the tendrils of a charging smoke spell seeped out from his closed palm. He pulled back his lips to display the entirety of his razor-sharp fangs, looming over Matthias like a dark cloud. His booming voice echoed off the walls. “I SAID GET UP.”

The sheer intensity of the command caused Matthias to flinch back into the wall behind him, and damn he was so close to caving… but fuck Tristan. Fuck him ordering him around like the ‘pet’ he dared label him as. If his superior wanted to hurt him, he wasn’t going to roll over and take it.

“And I said to the void with you!” he roared back, baring his own fangs.

Before he could register what was happening, Tristan launched the smoke spell, engulfing him in a cloud of thick and dense smoke that sucked all the oxygen out from around him. The force of the spell lifted him back off his feet, dangling him limply in the air like a ragdoll as the life was choked out of him.

Immediately, Matthias’s hands shot to his throat, gasping for air. Out of instinct, he tried to summon a spell of his own to overpower Tristan’s, forgetting the bracelet cuffing his wrist blocked his magical abilities.

“Are you going to continue to be a problem?”

To Matthias, Tristan’s voice was faint and ethereal. With his vision starting to blackout, he struggled now to focus.

Tristan used some of the spell’s force to constrict his neck, causing the younger man to struggle wildly, swinging his arms in an attempt to swipe Tristan, but the older man was much too far out of reach.

“I said, are you going to continue to be a problem, Matthias?”

Matthias was terrified that this was it. That Tristan was finally going to go too far and actually kill him. He could barely hear what his superior was saying over the loud thrumming of his heartbeat in his own ears.

Realising Matthias couldn’t speak even if he wanted to, Tristan dissipated the smoke spell, letting Matthias fall to the ground again. The younger man was a coughing, shuddering mess, barely having the strength to move except for what his body violently convulsed with another coughing fit. His chest was burning so painfully it felt as if his lungs were on fire.

“I won’t ask you again. Are you going to be a problem for me, pet?” Smoke pooled around Tristan’s fingers in warning.

Through tear-filled bleary eyes, Matthias saw the smoke in his peripheral vision, his heart sinking with dread. Another onslaught would surely kill him. He could try and regain his pride with defiance tomorrow. Tonight, he would relent. “N-No…”

“No… what?” Tristan pressed, not bothering to hide the sadistic way his lips upturned in triumph.

Matthias’s ears drooped and his shoulders sank defeatedly. “No… master.”

~~~

Special thanks to @lxgatus for the ideas and helping me write this one! <3

#whump #whumptober2021 #no.2 #choking #oc #fic #threats #conditioning #defiant whumpee broken down #magic whump #insaneinthepaingame

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ghostofnibelheim · 3 years ago

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[Drabble] The Heart of a Mother

One-shot drabble for the Four Seasons Divergent Megaverse!

FFVII-DM: THE HEART OF A MOTHER

A reminiscence of Sephiroth during the Nibelheim Incident.

Involved Characters: Sephiroth, 22yo

References: Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core, Before Crisis

Settings: Nibelheim, εγλ October 1st 0002

The heart of a mother is a deep abyss, at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness.

He couldn’t remember where exactly he had read or heard that the first time, but as he sat there, alone on a chair in that dark house, Sephiroth found himself thinking about those very words.

What was he doing here…? Looking down on the sword that rested on his knees, the blade shining with crimson luster against the pale street light coming from outside the door wide open, he could see the faint reflection of his eyes on the sharp metal. His expression was hollow, emotionless.

He had just killed someone, hadn’t he? Not at all something new, given his job. His role. So why was his heart racing so madly inside his chest? Why could he feel the gelid sting of guilt and panic pushing, attempting to surface to the front of his mind? It was like he’d been burning, and a faint, cold breeze of clarity had blown over the flames of anger that had been consuming him.

What had he done out there? Whose blood was this?

The blood of a traitor…

Why was he in this house?

“Cloud!?” A voice intruded, hurried steps rushing down the short staircase on the immediate left. “Is that you!? What’s going on!? I’m co-!”

Her words were interrupted by a sharp cry of pain, the very tip of the long katana finding purchase across her chest, cutting a deep diagonal gash from the waist down to the shoulder. The power of the swing was enough to send the woman’s body flying, tossing it across the room. She hit the wall with her head and fell limp like a doll, with nothing but a pitiful gasp upon landing on the ground.

From her hand, an oil lamp fell and crashed on the floor, the fuel spreading aflame over the wooden boards, soon reaching the hand-woven carpets under the two beds in the corner and eating away at the blankets and frames with its heat.

Sephiroth didn’t mind the flames. Just as he did not mind the cries of panic and help coming from the outside. His mind had been pushed back again, to give control to something else, raw impulse and the mechanical method of a killer that had been instilled inside him from the very company he represented. A dangerous tool of war gone out of control.

“Hnn…”

The woman writhed in pain where she laid, powerless and trembling, her orange gown quickly staining with her own blood. As dark leather boots moved and stepped closer, she was still whispering few broken words, her head shaking weakly.

“Cloud… please don’t…. P-please… don’t hurt…. my Cloud… He’s all I….”

Her blond hair dragged against the wall when she leaned consciouslessly to the side, a red stain on the stones behind her where her skull had made violent contact. The silver-haired stopped before her, his head tilting slightly, following the ragdolling movement of her body, with the eerie, yet so empty, fascination of a child observing something new.

That’s right… he remembered now.

“I am going to see my mother.”

He had said that to somebody, and then, he had killed someone. A nameless, faceless person outside, one of the traitors. And then, he had come here.

But this woman wasn’t his mother, either. She was a traitor too. He could confirm this by kneeling over her, carrying her face closer to his, letting the blood from her concussion smear on his glove, observing her features.

She opened a pair of the bluest eyes he’d ever seen then, weakly, gazing upon him, the image of her killer framed in the flames that had already engulfed the rest of the house around them.

“Cloud…” She whispered then, incoherent. To Sephiroth’s unexpressed surprise, the woman was smiling up to him. “There you… are, C-Cloud… I’m so… glad…”

A pale hand rose, ghosting against the warrior’s cheek, a fleeting caress meant for somebody only she could see. A tired, fitful sigh gasped from her throat, eyes blinking just one last time, enough to squeeze a single tear which rolled to the side of her cheek.

“… you’re safe.”

Her last words came riding that final breath. Heavy eyelids hid those sapphires from him, this time forever. Regarding her solemnly, Sephiroth slowly let her rest on the ground, rising back to his feet.

He didn’t know who that message had been for, nor did he care to deliver it. But the warmth of that hand still lingered on his skin, and fueled him with crave. That was the touch of a mother, the love and care he’d been yearning to experience all of his life. That which these people had robbed from him…

He’d take it back. He would see that all that rightfully belonged to him would be returned today.

And somewhere in his heart, as he left the burning hell of that house behind him to eat and consume everything, along the nearby buildings and the rest of this wretched town, slaying all who dared to cross his path, Sephiroth prayed so desperately that his Mother too could forgive him for everything.

#01B || This goes on your permanent record. [IC: Sephiroth]#00I || Do you also enjoy reading? [Drabble]#04 || Four Seasons [Divergent Megaverse]

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cosmic-goddess-leo · 4 years ago

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Show Me Your Teeth

Vampire!Kuroo x Monster Hunter! Reader

Chapter 1

Summary: Kuroo Tetsuro finds himself in quite the predicament when an injured monster hunter stumbles into his castle seeking refuge.

Word Count: 5,762

Warnings: Violence, blood, smut in upcoming chapter

Author’s Note: Sooooo I’m rewatching Castlevania lmao

A cry of pain reverberated off the gargantuan trees and echoed into the night sky as monstrous claws tore through armor and flesh.

Taking on such a sizeable pack of werewolves was a calculated risk, but the rather large sum of money offered as reward for the alpha’s head was just enough for (Y/n) to throw logic and reason out the door and begin tracking the beasts.

Of course, the amount of villagers the pack had eaten or turned was taken into account as well. If no one stepped in, the village would surely be wiped out within the month. Innocent people, children, all suffering as their bodies were devoured by savage creatures of the night.

(Y/n) couldn’t allow it. The money was merely a perk. (Y/n) could rest well knowing she had done the right thing in helping the village as well as not have to starve while on her travels.

And that was the rough chain of events that led to this current shit show.

(Y/n) was now dodging attacks from the beasts left and right, which proved to be no easy task with her injured leg.

A displeased growl slipped through her gritted teeth as the huntress pulled her whip from her harness on her hip. “Since you want to play dirty...” She trailed off, cracking the whip once in the air, the moonlight catching on the bits of silver adorning the very tip of the popper.

This didn’t seem to intimidate the wolves as one lunged towards her. (Y/n) cracked the whip in his direction, the consecrated leather slashing at the beast while the silver carved into the werewolf’s skin.

Almost instantaneously, the wolf went up in wild blue flames and a horrendous cross between a scream and a howl ripped through its burning esophagus into the night.

(Y/n) smirked triumphantly, using the moment of temporary shock to put some distance between her and the pack. She broke off into a sprint, limping in a random direction away from the wolves.

She swore she could see a castle through the trees, and was relieved to find her vision hadn’t failed her once she exited the tree line.

The villagers at the tavern had spoken in hushed whispers about the abandoned castle past the great forest, how they wondered if anyone had taken up residence in the large structure.

Worst case scenario, a couple of vagrants had taken up residence in the place and would be displeased about a monster hunter bringing a pack of werewolves into their lodging.

(Y/n) grunted as she climbed the steps leading to the castle, the pain in her leg becoming increasingly evident as she put more weight on it. She attempted to heave the large wooden doors open, shakily exhaling as the doors refused to budge.

Whoever had left this castle locked it before they vacated.

The huntress cursed under her breath as she heard the wolves approaching, sparing a glance over her shoulder as she continued pulling on the large, metal ring handle on the door.

She was almost knocked off her feet when the locks clicked, the door finally swinging open towards her. Had (Y/n) not been running for her life, she would have thought to question how the doors suddenly unlocked.

(Y/n) clambered into the castle, shutting the large doors behind her and locking them in hopes of buying herself some time. She pulled a bottle from the pouch strapped onto her hip and poured the clear liquid onto her leg, the mixture numbing the pain enough for her to walk properly.

As she capped the bottle and began to place it back in her pouch, a dark figure at the corner of her eye caught her attention. She whipped her head in that direction, but the figure disappeared.

Her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness as she continued searching for the shape in that direction, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end as she swore she could feel something breathing down her back.

Before she could give it any more thought, the doors of the castle began to rattle and creak as the wolves attempted to get in.

(Y/n) got to work pouring holy water at the entrance and rubbing salt onto her silver sword, the mysterious presence now long forgotten as she prepared for battle. She then sheathed her sword and unfurled her whip, eyes glued to the door just as the wood began to crack.

The wolves burst through the door, the first to enter screeching as they stepped into the holy water. (Y/n) dispatched the immobilized wolves quickly with her whip, the room now illuminated by the blue fire burning through their flesh and fur.

The next wave of wolves leapt over the burning embers of their fallen pack members, only to be met with the crack of (Y/n)’s whip. She knew this plan wouldn’t stay viable for long, werewolves tended to be very craft creatures, their bloodlust only clouding their animal instincts for so long.

Just as she began to take a step back towards a nearby room, one of the large, stained glass windows beside her shattered. The biggest bastard of the pack, the alpha, came crashing through the glass right towards her.

(Y/n) raised her arm to shield herself on instinct, knowing the second the alpha had her head between his jaws this would all be over.

The beast took hold of her arm, its fangs clamping down on the limb and breaking through her chainmail like it was paper. (Y/n) screamed in anguish as her blood gushed from her arm and onto her body.

The alpha then tossed her body aside, as if she were nothing but a ragdoll, a ghastly laugh vibrating through its chest as it watched her body smack against the nearby wall.

(Y/n) struggled to pick herself up, arm limp at her side as she weakly gripped at her sword with her non-dominant hand. She whipped around to face the alpha, just as it began charging at her, unsheathing her sword weakly and holding it in front of her body at the last second.

The massive wolf pounced onto her, whimpering as the salted silver blade pierced its stomach. (Y/n) quickly pushed its limp body away, sending it to the floor with a loud thud.

(Y/n) looked down at her arm, a sense of dread filling the pit of her stomach as she examined the large bite. A bite from an alpha meant she would turn in only a matter of minutes if she didn’t treat it. She had no time to worry about the remainder of the pack as she pulled a pouch of salt from her hip and rubbed it onto the large wound.

She whimpered at the sting, knowing the worst was yet to come as she pulled a waterskin full of holy water from her belt. (Y/n) then doused her arm with the water, another violent scream erupting from her chest and echoing into the hall. The water bubbled against the wound, hissing quietly as it cleansed the torn flesh.

(Y/n) could feel her vision going blurry, her body beginning to wobble as her ears rang. She tried to will herself to snap out of it, tried to stand straight and prepare for the attack from the rest of the pack. But she couldn’t stop her body from collapsing onto the floor as she went into shock.

She could see the wolves slowly closing in on her, eyes practically glowing with hatred as they looked between the huntress and their slain alpha. (Y/n) never thought she would lose her life to a pack of werewolves, but at least it would be quick.

The blue fire began to dim as the burning bodies were now reduced to ash. Darkness consumed the room just as a large figure suddenly tackled the nearest werewolf away from (Y/n)’s limp form. (Y/n) fought to keep her eyes open so she could see who had saved her, eyes struggling to focus on the blur currently ripping apart what was left of the wolves.

The room was now silent, save for the click of her savior’s heels against the stone floors. (Y/n)’s eyes slowly fluttered closed as a pair of glowing gold eyes entered her field of vision. The last thing she felt was her body being lifted from the floor and into a pair of strong, firm arms.

———————————————————–

The first thing (Y/n) noticed about her new surroundings was the plush, comfortable bed she was currently laying in. She couldn’t remember the last time she slept in a feather bed... and one with silk sheets at that.

It was then that (Y/n) realized that she was, in fact, very naked. Save for the bandages wrapped around her injured arm and leg, her body was completely bare.

“What the fuck...” she croaked, her throat raw from her screaming the night before. She lightly rubbed at her neck, wishing she had some tea to soothe her worn vocal cords.

(Y/n) then caught a whiff of something delicious, turning to find a tray of cooked breakfast and tea resting on her bedside table. “... that’s oddly convenient.” She muttered.

Her body felt stiff and heavy as she pushed herself to sit up and take the tray of food. She set the tray in her lap and began eating. The bacon was a bit burned and the porridge was very soupy, but (Y/n) knew she was in no position to criticize the cooking of whoever was showing her all this hospitality.

“Good to see I didn’t poison you...”

(Y/n) practically choked on her eggs as she turned to the door of her room. Was the door cracked open like that the whole time? She could vaguely see a tall figure with its back to the door, a long, silk cloak hanging off his broad shoulders.

“Perhaps I spoke too soon?” he inquired, referring to her weak coughing.

“N-no... it’s very good. Thank you...” she said, throat still burning and prompting her to take another sip of her tea.

The man chuckled softly, the sound sending a chill up (Y/n)’s spine. “I am glad to hear it. I don’t host very often, so I am a bit out of practice when it comes to cooking for others.”

(Y/n) set the tea back on the tray, tugging the sheets to cover her chest despite the man’s back being turned to her. “Did you undress me...?”

He chuckled a bit awkwardly at that, “I had to dress your wounds properly... to do that I had to remove your armor and your clothing. I hope that’s alright.”

“I suppose I’d rather be naked and alive rather than clothed and dead,” she said, earning a rather loud laugh from the stranger. “Why won’t you come in?”

His laughter died down and he went silent as he seemed to ponder her question. “This is my home... am I not allowed to enter a room whenever I so choose?”

“I suppose that’s reasonable...” (Y/n) sighed, not wanting to press the issue further. It was quite possible he was disfigured, or burned horribly in some sort of accident, and didn’t want the random woman who had entered his home to see his face.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of hosting a huntress in my halls? I suppose you just wanted to use my home as some sort of stronghold against those werewolves last night...” He declared, clearly already knowing the answer to his own question.

(Y/n) set aside the tray before shrinking into the bedding. “I’m truly sorry. The villagers told me this castle was abandoned...”

The man chuckled once more, “They’d like to think so... This castle belonged to my family before the villagers drove them out long ago...” he admitted, “I am the only member of my bloodline left.”

(Y/n) frowned at that as she made a move to stand from her bed, only to be cut off by the sound of his voice.

“You shouldn’t be moving.” His tone was stern, like a father scolding his child, deepening the frown on (Y/n)’s face.

“Well I can’t just lay naked in this lovely bed all day. I may go mad.” she grunted, ignoring the pain in her leg as she attempted to stand. “I have to retrieve my reward for the dead alpha in your foyer... I’ll be damned if I almost got turned into a werewolf for nothing.”

Movement at the corner of her eye caused her to turn towards the door as she covered her chest once more. (Y/n) could just barely make out the man’s eyes in the dark hall, body shivering as his gaze remained fixed on hers.

“You’re very tired... you want to rest.”

A wave of fatigue suddenly rolled over (Y/n)’s body, causing her to lay back in bed despite her desire to get up. Her head weakly lulled to the side, eyes struggling to stay open as she watched him turn his back to her. “What... did you give me...?”

“I mixed poppy milk into your tea... to help with the pain.” He responded, listening closely as (Y/n)’s breathing began to soften.

“Your name...” she heaved, her drowsiness slowly getting the better of her and slurring her speech.

“Kuroo Tetsuro... I’ll take care of the alpha.”

Kuroo’s name lingered on the tip of (Y/n)’s tongue, something about it seemed familiar for some reason. But before she could further question it, she was drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

Kuroo turned and entered the room once he heard that her breathing had evened out. He pulled the sheets further up her body to cover her chest. His gold eyes lingered over her throat, now exposed to him due to the angle her head was tilted at.

His tongue dragged over his lips at the thought of latching onto her neck and taking a drink... just one drop couldn’t hurt. Maybe a bit more. It had been so long since he had a proper meal, limiting the amount of people he fed on to avoid suspicion had taken its toll on him.

At least he had enough energy to compel the huntress to sleep. Kuroo lightly brushed the tips of his fingers over her throat, feeling the delicious rhythm of her pulse under his touch.

Kuroo knew once he started he may not stop... so he pulled away from her, gathered the tray of dirty dishes and left the bedroom.

He didn’t know what compelled him to save the huntress in the first place. The bloodsucker was perfectly content enjoying the show, watching her absolutely decimate the pack of werewolves she had lured into his home.

Though Kuroo hadn’t asked her to formally introduce herself, he knew by the family seal engraved onto her armor that she was a (L/n), part of a long line of monster hunters whose names were renowned throughout the land... until the church branded them as witches and had them burned at the stake for their knowledge of the supernatural.

He could tell she was perfectly capable of handling herself against those wolves, and even if she didn’t, it would be one less human in the world willing to stake him without a second thought.

So why step in? Kuroo scoffed at himself, shaking his head to clear his thoughts as he continued making his way to the kitchens. In all his years he had never questioned himself, why start now? All because of some huntress?

He decided that he would allow her to heal, maybe let her leave if he found her too amusing to suck dry. Out of the kindness of his heart, of course. Not many vampires would ignore their hunger just to appear kind. But then again, he wasn’t like other vampires.

———————————————————–

(Y/n) awoke to the smell of cooked meat beside her bed. Her confusion about when she had fallen asleep quickly was replaced by hunger as she sat up, reaching for the tray until she saw a large shirt folded and placed beside her.

Right. She was still naked.

She quickly put the shirt on, eager to get to her dinner as she placed the tray in her lap and started eating. The meat was a bit dry and some of the vegetables undercooked and crunchy, but she wasn’t about to complain about getting treated to another free meal.

(Y/n) jumped at the sigh she heard from the doorway as she bit into a particularly crunchy carrot.

“Apologies... I told you I’m not much of a cook.” Kuroo said, the embarrassment in his tone almost humorous to his guest.

“I appreciate your hospitality nonetheless... Truly I do.” She said through a mouthful of meat, washing it down with a sip of tea. “Since you’re clearly intent on keeping me here till my wounds are fully healed, I suppose I should give you my name...”

His lips twitched into a small smile at that, one (Y/n) couldn’t see with his back to her as it was earlier. Kuroo knew the second he allowed the huntress to see him fully, she would probably rip off one of the bed posts and shove it through his chest.

“Judging from the seal on the armor I had to pry off you, you’re a (L/n)... Never thought I would see one in person. I heard they had all died off.” He declared, absentmindedly running a hand through his messy hair.

“That I am...” (Y/n) confessed, glancing at said armor in the far corner of the room. “My sister and I were the sole survivors of the siege on our house… now I am all that’s left...I’m surprised you’ve heard of us,” she continued. “Usually only clergymen and older people recognize my family name and seal.”

“And what makes you think I’m neither of those things, (L/n)?” he chuckled.

“It’s (Y/n).” she corrected.

“Any clergyman would have quite literally left me to the wolves the second he recognized my seal...” (Y/n) trailed off, eyeing his figure in the crack of the doorway carefully before she continued. “And I don’t think any old man could have taken on the remainder of the werewolf pack on his own the way you did... are you a trained hunter?”

Kuroo leaned against the doorframe, making sure not to push the door open any further and reveal more of himself to her. “I was trained in swordplay at a young age... Once I arrived in the foyer you had already fallen and your sword was tossed aside. I took it upon myself to defend you with it.”

(Y/n) couldn’t help but feel suspicious at that. Though her memory was fuzzy, she didn’t remember seeing him carrying a sword as he slayed the rest of the wolves. There were possible explanations for it: (Y/n) couldn’t see very clearly, the room was dark, etc.

“Well... thank you. Being ripped apart by a pack of werewolves isn’t exactly how I pictured my life ending.” She said, taking another bite of her carrot as she glanced around the room, eyes stopping on a stack of books placed on the bedside table she hadn’t even noticed. “And what are these?”

“Books? I thought that would be quite obvious.”

(Y/n) scoffed at his sarcastic tone. “I can see that. Why are they here?” She set the tray of food aside, replacing it with a rather hefty book that she patted some dust off of.

“Your wounds may take some time to heal... and I can’t have you wandering around the castle on that bum leg of yours. There are parts of this building that are dangerous...”

(Y/n) glanced up at him, quirking a brow at the back of his head. “Is that your friendly way of telling me I’m confined to this room for the duration of my stay?”

“That’s precisely what it is. Very perceptive of you.”

She almost choked at his bluntness, setting the book aside and resuming her meal. Kuroo technically wasn’t lying, there were parts of the castle that had been destroyed during the siege, leaving many staircases collapsed, bedrooms destroyed and floors unstable.

Plus it would be rather awkward if she ever stumbled upon him draining a squealing pig of its blood in the kitchen one day.

“I will ensure you have everything you need to heal... just please trust me, (Y/n).” He pleaded, hoping (Y/n) would agree to his terms. He imagined that this would be a rather lucrative deal. The only surviving child of an exiled and excommunicated family, loved by few and hated by many, being offered free lodgings while her wounds healed? How could she refuse.

He was pulled from his thoughts as (Y/n) heaved a sigh as she finished her dinner. “Fine... but I have some rules of my own.”

Kuroo couldn’t help but laugh at that, crossing his arms as he glanced at her over his shoulder, straightening out his posture once he remembered he was supposed to keep hidden. “And what are those?”

“Don’t undress me without my permission again. If you do I’ll bury you alive.”

‘Wouldn’t be the first time.’ he thought to himself.

“And cook your vegetables at least 10 minutes longer.” (Y/n) quipped. “Other than that, nothing else comes to mind...”

The vampire snorted through his nostrils, an amused smile on his face as he lightly shook his head. He was really going to take orders from a human? A huntress no less?

“You have a deal...”

———————————————————–

The next couple days consisted of (Y/n) waking up to her meals, exchanging short pleasantries with Kuroo until he eventually left to do... whatever it is he did. For the first couple days of her stay, (Y/n) made a game out of thinking up what he did when he wasn’t bringing her meals.

Maybe he crocheted. Or he painted. Or he ran a secret brothel in the bowels of this castle and that’s why (Y/n) wasn’t allowed to try and explore it. Once she reached that train of thought she quickly stopped playing that game.

She found herself going stir-crazy from the lack of interaction, and there was only so much the books Kuroo brought to her could do to entertain her.

(Y/n) was maybe a week into the healing process when she asked Kuroo to stay with her rather than leave. She couldn’t hold back her relieved sigh when he agreed to keep her company.

Kuroo figured if he humored her just once she would be satisfied. However, he himself had spent the past 60 years alone in that castle, no one to talk to. He had gotten used to the loneliness by now.

He didn’t count on actually enjoying their conversations they had that day, he especially didn’t expect to spend the night restlessly waiting for her to wake up in hopes of speaking with her again.

Sometimes they spoke about what random things they had on their mind, Kuroo had decades worth of unspoken thoughts he wanted to share, each one interesting, amusing, or bewildering her. If they weren’t going on tangents together, he would ask (Y/n) to read a passage of whatever book she was attempting to finish.

That would usually get her tired enough to nap and allow him to leave to make her next meal and place it beside her bed. He had gotten much better at cooking as well, but Kuroo dreaded the trips he would have to make to the market in the village, fearing he would be caught sooner or later by some nosey townsfolk.

It didn’t help that he had to make these trips during the day, when any clumsy child or old man could step on his cloak and expose him to the sunlight. But he very well couldn’t allow his guest to starve under his roof, so he continued his lowkey trips, satisfied that he had not been caught... at least so he thought.

Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, and soon (Y/n) was healed enough to walk on crutches. Kuroo knew he couldn’t keep his secret much longer with her on her feet, so he would have to send her on her way soon... a thought that filled his undead body with dread.

He could never admit it to himself, but he found his chest aching when he wasn’t with her, and when he sat at the door of her bedroom he only wished he could be closer to her. Kuroo hadn’t felt such an emotion in decades... but he recognized it almost instantly, making the subject of having to send her away even more painful.

The pain only festered when he wondered if she felt the same... this longing to be closer to him, and to be with him always. Longing to hold him to her, press her lips to his... He never asked. So he never knew that the answer was ‘yes.’

Kuroo gnawed on his lower lip, wondering how he would even go about mustering the strength to ask her to leave until her voice interrupted his thoughts.

“You never told me why your family was chased out of here...” she murmured just low enough for him to hear, trying to occupy herself with repairing her damaged armor.

The vampire was thoroughly caught off guard by the question, his fingers slipping on the pattern he was currently sewing by hand and pricking his pointer finger.

“Well you never told me why your family was excommunicated...” he replied, hoping that would change the subject and take the spotlight off of him.

“You know why my family was excommunicated... everybody does,” she sighed, glancing at the doorway sadly. “I’m curious... and you’ve never told me when I’ve answered practically every question about myself that you’ve asked...”

Kuroo took his lip between his teeth once again, huffing as he tried to think up a delicate way to put it without getting staked.

“Your family was accused of witchcraft for their knowledge of the supernatural... Mine was actually guilty of it.” He paused, listening as (Y/n)’s heart rate quickened.

“My father... he was a man of science. He studied the world as we know it and everything it had to offer. He became enraptured with studying the supernatural... creatures that went bump in the night, and tales we told children to scare them into behaving that had hints of truth to them.

Eventually... he got his wish of studying one of these creatures up close when a vampire came to our door one night. She seduced him... turned him... my mother and I didn’t learn this until the mob with torches and pitchforks arrived at the castle weeks later. He and my mother were killed... I was the sole survivor.”

He was met with silence, causing him to glance at (Y/n) through the crack in the door and quirk an eyebrow at her. “Not the answer you were expecting...?”

(Y/n) slowly shook her head, staring wordlessly at her damaged armor until clearing her throat. “No... I figured it had to be something major enough for the village to take action against you... but I thought it would have been a misunderstanding, as with my family...”

Kuroo slowly shook his head, eyes now cast down at the fur resting in his lap. “No... it was all true... So much suffering and for what... his foolish curiosity...”

(Y/n) could sense his sour tone, partially regretting that she had asked him about it in the first place. “I’m sorry... it wasn’t my place to ask such a question.”

“You were curious,” he responded, all too quick to feel the need to comfort her.

“Yes well curiosity killed the cat, didn’t it?” (Y/n) sighed, continuing to fiddle with her armor.

“Well you’re a rather tough cat, aren’t you? It would take a lot more than curiosity to kill you...” he teased, hoping to bring the mood back up. A smile tugged at his lips at the sound of (Y/n)’s light laughter.

“My sister used to say the same thing…” (Y/n) chuckled, a sad smile playing on her lips.

Kuroo tilted his head towards the door, sensing the sadness in her voice. “You never told me what happened to her…”

(Y/n) gnawed at her lip, her work on her armor long forgotten now. “Vampires…”

HIs undead heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. Fuck.

“We had never encountered them before… but she knew they were tailing us through a forest after we had been turned away from a village… She made me leave her behind as she attempted to fight them off…” (Y/n) explained.

Kuroo’s eyebrows knitted together as he processed her words, “Was that the only time you’ve encountered them…? Vampires, I mean…”

The huntress nodded. “Yes… I count myself grateful for that. I found her remains in the morning and- shit!” she hissed as the scent of blood filled the air. Kuroo froze in place already feeling his fangs growing at the mere smell of the blood dripping from her cut finger.

“Damn,” she hissed, taking her thumb between her lips and sucking at the small but deep cut in hopes of stopping the small beads of blood from staining the silk sheets.

One would think that would be enough to quell Kuroo’s hunger, but now he could practically taste the blood on her lips. He could feel himself aching, the need to feed overcoming his senses.

(Y/n) heard Kuroo scramble onto his feet before he abruptly left the doorway, his heeled boots echoing down the hall as he got further and further away. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, as she got up to retrieve an ointment for the cut.

(Y/n) didn’t see him the rest of the day, eventually falling asleep out of boredom and waking to find her dinner where it always was. But a note was placed beside her tea, directing her to open the parcel placed at the foot of her bed. She didn’t even notice it until then.

She tore at the parchment, smiling brightly as her hands ran over the large fur pelt. (Y/n) looked back at the note, chuckling softly as she read Kuroo’s complaints about having to skin the alpha after taking its head to the village for the reward. She then noticed the large bag of coins placed on the floor beside her armor.

But her attention was more focused on the pelt. No one had ever gotten her a gift before, and it was clear that Kuroo had put a lot of work into this given the intricate stitching and needlework. Perhaps her theories about him crocheting were correct...

(Y/n) happily ate her dinner with the pelt draped over her shoulders, protecting herself from the cold winter air that seeped through the walls and into her bedroom. She purposefully avoided the tea, knowing Kuroo always added poppy milk to the mixture to help her sleep through the pains her healing wounds brought her during the night.

Kuroo was a creature of habit... living with him for almost 3 months had made that very clear to her. It was obvious he came to take her dishes once she had fallen asleep, doing so to keep her from seeing his face.

Maybe it was that curiosity again, or her desire to look into the eyes of the man who had saved her and nursed her back to health. All (Y/n) knew was tonight was the night she would finally see his face.

She laid back in bed, getting comfortable once she had finished her dinner and waiting for him to enter her room. It was hard to stay awake with her belly full and her new fur pelt warming her, but somehow she managed it and a surge of excitement filled her body when she finally heard the bedroom door creak open.

Kuroo stepped towards the bed, overcome with relief that the smell of blood was completely purged from the room. The click of his heels came to a stop as he stood above (Y/n), admiring her peaceful expression as he gently brushed a strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear.

He glanced down at her throat, breath hitching for a moment before he forced his eyes onto the tray of food. He hadn’t processed the full cup of tea until he felt (Y/n)’s fingers graze his wrist, causing his body to jolt as he looked down at her in shock.

Kuroo didn’t know if he should be angry, mortified, ready for a fight, or all three. To his surprise, (Y/n) made no move to retrieve her sword from the other side of her bed. She didn’t even glance in the weapon’s direction. She only stared up at Kuroo almost in disbelief.

She really wasn’t lying when she said she had never encountered a vampire before. A (L/n) with no clue as to what a vampire looked like, possibly only hearing misleading tales about the creatures rather than facing one herself. Kuroo could have laughed at that, but he was too preoccupied with trying to read (Y/n)’s expression as she lightly gripped his shirt sleeve.

He was... the most beautiful thing (Y/n) had ever seen. Messy jet black hair, intense amber eyes and soft, pink lips, parted as he watched her with bated breath. Why had he kept hidden from her?

“I take it you weren’t in the mood for tea, tonight?” he gulped, watching as she slowly took his hand. If his appearance weren’t enough of a giveaway, his cold skin would be... right?

A quiet gasp escaped her lips as she felt his skin like ice against her touch. She slowly sat up on her knees, taking his hand and slowly cupping his cheek with the other. Kuroo shuddered at their close proximity, his undead heart hammering in his chest as (Y/n)’s thumb ran over his bottom lip.

“You’re so cold...” she whispered, sending another chill down his spine as her warmth seeped into him. “Let me warm you...”

———————————————————–

Tag list: @iwaxme @vventure @lydzisanerd @bb-noya @gemini-writes @ochacostrange @yams046 @tokyoghoose @madireyn @global---weaboo @achoohq @ardorwrites-hq-mha

#Vampire!au #Show Me Your Teeth #chapter fic #chapter series #Kuroo Tetsurou #Kuroo Tetsurō #Kuroo Tetsuro #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader

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vitani-blackwell · 3 years ago

Text

These Violent Deeds || Fated Ball

Vitani Blackwell was who she was until the end…[takes place: September 29, 2021]

tw – death, gore, blood, injuries

EILONWY

Eilonwy had been on edge all evening. Despite her best efforts, so many of the people she cared about were still here at the party, and there was no way for her to keep an eye on all of them. She did her best to fake a smile and a laugh whenever necessary, but the waiting only ratcheted the tension higher and higher. She knew something was going to happen. It would be soon.

But when people started to collapse around her, she froze. She watched as person after person crumbled to the ground, in the wrong position to get to any of them. But worse? She watched the Blackwells begin to move. And they were fast.

But so was she.

Twirling her right wrist, the bracelet transformed into the shimmering Elven blade, barely paying attention to the woman who took one look at her and began to scream as she ran away. Letting out a guttural scream, she rushed forward, trying desperately to get in between Vitani and the collapsed Errol on the ground before anything worse could happen to him.

VITANI

Vitani made a show of playing scared before laughing at the silly girl.

“Ooooh, like I’ve never seen a sword before!” She cackled, deftly dodging out of the way and grabbing the blonde by the wrist. She had half a mind to snap it in two but now wasn’t the time to let her little power trip get the best of her.

Mother gave them one mission and it was to be completed tonight. Tomorrow, Vitani could kill anybody who dared challenge her. Tonight, she was a loyal foot soldier.

Vitani threw the blonde aside like a ragdoll, sending her skidding across the ballroom tile.

EILONWY

Eilonwy was pulling back for her first swing when the woman darted forward and tossed her aside. She could feel something in her arm twinge as she slammed into the ground, but she ignored the pain as she had so often before. There were more important things to consider.

She was back on her feet in a moment, coming up behind and slashing the woman’s arm right as she turned away from Errol towards whoever her next victim would be.

Later, she would apologize to Errol for still not being fast enough. For now, she didn’t devote the brain power to it.

As the vampire turned to face her again, Eilonwy grinned. “You’ve never seen my sword.” She lunged forward again, striking towards her heart.

VITANI:

Vitani rolled her eyes and would’ve sighed had her lungs held breath. What a cheesy line. Did blondie think she was in some epic drama? This was real life sweaty! Puny humans weren’t heroes, they were pillbugs.

Vitani dodged her blade again, though she only managed to keep her dead heart from being stabbed. The Elven blade sliced her arm and she was loath to admit it, but that? That did hurt.

“We will not be thwarted by the likes of you!” Vitani spat, roundhouse kicking the girl square in the gut.

EILONWY

Eilonwy stumbled backwards, gasping for air but managing to keep her feet through sheer force of will.

“Hundreds of years to plan, and you’re going to fail anyway. How does that feel?” Because Eilonwy had no doubt they would succeed. Too many people were counting on them, so it was impossible for them to fail.

With her left hand, she grabbed hold of the flickering candlelight, brightening it and flinging the light up in Vitani’s face in an attempt to blind her as she rushed forward to send her sword biting into Vitani’s side.

VITANI

She was resourceful, Vitani would give her that.

But she was under the impression that vampires were just like humans. Slow, stupid, easily fooled. Vitani was able to see before more than a beat passed, sure, but she wasn’t quick enough to avoid the full force of the blade.

“Not sure, because we’re not going to. Look around, princess. We’re winning.” Vitani growled.

As much as she loved a good homoerotic battle, she was getting bored of this girl.

“Go back to the playground you crawled out of!” Vitani said, grabbing her arm and throwing her down onto the ground on top of her other arm. Hard.

A pleasant snap reached the vampire’s ears and she hid a giggle behind one hand. “Ta-ta, little girl.”

EILONWY

Eilonwy felt a dark glow of satisfaction at the blood beginning to slick the end of her blade, although the otherworldly silver shimmer could still be seen through it. Whatever Vitani had thought would happen, they weren’t going to go down easily.

It was the ‘princess’ comment that distracted her at the wrong moment. She couldn’t help that frozen wonder of how the woman had known that when she had worked so hard to keep it a secret?

In that flash, she could feel the cold claw, wrapping around the sword arm that was still close to her as Eilonwy had prepared to attack her again on the sword’s rebound, and then she was flying through the air again.

As she hit the ground, Eilonwy felt the sickeningly familiar feeling of bone breaking. Despite her best efforts, despite the training, that bright flash of pain overwhelmed her.

She screamed.

TOD

Tod was busy helping others, or doing what he could to find out how to do just that. He had his sword in hand, dashing to the bodies that dropped but what could he do? He was in a panic. But then that scream rang out. It shook him to his very core. He knew that voice. He knew that voice too well.

“Eilonwy?” He called, turning to find her on the ground, writhing in pain while her arm contorted in some strange direction. Broken. It was definitely broken. But he couldn’t even reason with what that meant as he ran in the direction of her, her scream, and the vampire that did it.

“Don’t touch her!” He said, standing right in front of her. She’d get up. She’d get up soon, he just had to fight alone until she did. “You and me. I won’t let you get away with this.” His sword was gripped right in his hands, pointed at Vitani. “Let’s go, coward!” His hands were shaking. But Galahad felt strong with him.

VITANI:

“You’ll be wise to sheath your puny sword, human!” Vitani snapped, gliding over to her final sacrifice, the unknowable knight, and drawing a thin line of blood from his arm. Mm, it did smell good. Perhaps a little taste-- she licked the point of her dagger, wrapping her tongue around it. So that’s what sweet victory tasted like. She’d have to call Shania and feed from her after this, perhaps she’d be kind enough to bed her first.

“Before you end up like your little girlfriend, I suggest you scurry off. Go find a rock to hide under or whatever worms like you do.”

TOD:

“Make me,” Tod began, but before he knew it, a sharp pain split his arm before the warmth of blood rolled down his bicep. He looked up in just enough time to watch her lick her blade clean and his stomach sank at the sight of it. She was fast. Almost too fast. He’d have to think ahead.

He chuckled, twirling his blade in his hand. “Is that really all you’ve got?” With that, he charged forward, acting as though he was going in for a swipe, but instead, attempting to hook her ankle with his foot and knock her down, then strike off her hand or at least damage her arm when she went down. “Come on, Eilonwy! Fight through the pain! I need you!”

VITANI:

“Aw, now I wanna get kinky.” Vitani whined at his ‘make me.’

How frustrating it’s a do-gooder man saying it to her.

His kick was successful, tripping her off her feet, and his blade caught her hand-- what? She was faster than this! He shouldn’t have gotten within two meters of her let alone caught her. Mother...why wasn’t Mother coming to help her, to put a stop to these humans?

Ugh, there was no well in hell, heaven, or earth she was going to let these mortals best her! They must die. Now.

“Apologize.” Vitani deadpanned. “Say sorry, and I’ll let you keep your head.”

EILONWY

Eilonwy knew she needed to get up, knew that any amount of time on the ground equalled her death, which she only cared about because she hadn’t taken down Vitani first which meant that more people would get hurt.

But just as she was trying to force herself up, taking a deep breath to push down the pain and compartmentalize until later, Tod was there. “Attaboy,” she said quietly, wheezing softly.

But she knew it wouldn’t be enough alone, so with a push, she was back on her feet, picking up her blade from the ground and tucking the broken arm in against her side out of the way. Tod had moved Vitani so she was facing away from Eilonwy, which gave her the perfect opening.

Lunging forward, she stabbed Vitani in the shoulder. “Pity. You won’t get the same offer from us.”

VITANI: At the same time the blonde’s Elven blade sank into her arm, Vitani realized why Zira wasn’t coming to put an end to all of this.

The younger vampire made the mistake of looking toward where her mother had been dueling with Arthur and found her form lying still on the ground. No. No, impossible. There was no way that King could’ve struck down Zira Blackwell, the most powerful vampire to have walked this sorry earth!

No trick could foil her mother!

Alas, when Vitani cried out in pain, Zira did not turn her head to her. She did not come to check on her loyal daughter. The footsoldier was without a commander, and thus without a handle on her rage.

“You killed her! You killed her! You will DIE!” Vitani shrieked, launching herself at the blonde and tackling her to the ballroom floor. Vitani’s hands wrapped around her neck to squeeze the life out of her. It was what she deserved. It was what they all deserved.

EILONWY

Eilonwy wasn’t ready for Vitani to turn abruptly and launch herself at her, and as they hit the ground, Eilonwy saw painful stars as her broken arm slammed into the ground at the same time.

Her sword was too long to be used here, she couldn’t make it to any of her other weapons, and she could feel Vitani’s hands tightening around her throat and stealing the last few seconds of air.

It wasn’t how she thought she’d go. She refused to go afraid.

She clawed viciously at the hands clutching at her, kicking furiously, anything to make this harder on the woman on top of her, but she knew her human strength was no match for the vampire. So when she saw Tod over her shoulder, she nodded. Whatever he needed to do. As long as this was over.

As she could feel the darkness closing in from lack of air, she gasped out, “Maybe. But you’ll die first.” And she spat at her.

TOD

The smile of pride that had been on Tod’s lips when Eilonwy stood and fought with him was quickly swiped away as she was tackled to the floor, Vitani’s hands around her neck. His blade was covered in the blood of her hand as he was forced back, watching his friend become choked to death. If he didn’t stop this soon, she’d die. Eilonwy. What was he supposed to do?

Then he watched her nod and he knew. He knew completely. Grasping his sword with both hands, he stood above her, behind her back, and aimed his sword right for her heart. “I told you not to touch her!” And with that, he thrusted his sword down, right through her heart, the blood rushing down onto Eilonwy and even himself before he shoved Vitani off her. Let her lay on her back with his sword pointed down for good measure.

VITANI:

The last thing Vitani felt wasn’t the man’s blade, but her hatred for Arthur for killing her mother. Fine, then. She’d just make sure to kill one of his precious knights in turn. As far as Vitani knew, she succeeded in claiming her final kill because by the time she was on her back on the ballroom floor even her undead second life was over.

Judith Lyons, Vitani Blackwell, and Victoria Boyce and all of the suffering the three women who wore the same face caused lay motionless, harmless, like a kitten declawed or a piranha without its teeth. She wasn’t like a jellyfish who could still sting in death.

Her final act was one of malice, it was an attempted murder to avenge her creator.

Vitani Blackwell died as she had lived -- her mother’s loyal servant, fulfilling her mission until the end.

Zira would have been so disappointed.

EILONWY

Air rushed back into her lungs as Vitani’s grip suddenly loosened and she was shoved off to the side. She gasped and then started to cough hard, curling up slightly at the way this felt against her abused throat and her starved lungs.

When she could breathe a little more easily, she looked up at Tod standing above her. “Thank you. I was trying, but - she was too much for me on my own.”

She glanced over to where the vampire was laying with the sword buried in her. She should probably feel bad. That was a life that had belonged to someone that Zira had stolen, and then she had helped to end the rest of it. But she didn’t. All Eilonwy cared about was that the harm she had caused had ended.

She pushed herself to her feet, swaying slightly as she did so before grabbing Tod’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

TOD:

For a moment, Tod was gone. Transported back to when he was a little boy, watching red grow near the heart of his grandmother. How she’d reached for him and begged him to take her closer to the flowers so she could die in peace. Only this time, he’d been the one that took a life. An immortal life, a dangerous one, but a life all the same. He reached up to his face, touching the blood on his cheek then staring at his fingertips. Blood on his hands. He would always have blood on his hands.

The only thing that had snapped him out of it was the small grip of Eilonwy on his hand. She was alive. He’d saved her. “Don’t ever do that again,” he said, pulling her into his embrace. And already he could feel the tears beginning in his eyes. The pain of it all. The memories. They were so heavy on his shoulders. “I told you, I’m not going to let— let you die.”

EILONWY

She gasped sharply as she was pulled in against him, pain flashing through her system as her arm banged into him. But that was fine. Pain meant she was alive, and she would always take pain over feeling nothing at all.

With her good arm, she wrapped him tightly in the hug and squeezed him back. “Yeah. You showed me. I’m ok being wrong this time.”

There was a part of her that wanted to stay here. Right here in this hug, in this moment, with this person who meant so much to her. She wanted to take a moment to process what it meant to be alive when moments ago, she had been so ready to die.

But she couldn’t. All around them were people who had collapsed, people who had been injured by the vampires, and scared people who didn’t know what was going on. There were the other knights to check on, the spell to foil, and Arthur to see. For some reason, she couldn’t see him, and she needed to know that he was ok too. That all of them were, and they had won.

“You’re going to be ok. We did what we had to do, and people are safe because of it. When this is all over, we can hang out and just talk, and it’ll be fine. Now, it’s time to go check on the others, ok?”

Even though it hurt, she pulled back out of the hug, reaching down to grab her sword. She would need to clean it soon. But she would need to make sure it wasn’t still necessary first.

“Do you want to take your sword? Or - I have a spare. If you’d rather not.”

TOD:

Tod nodded. He nodded because he knew just hanging out and talking would mean more lies he would have to say, more false trauma like he had never seen a dead body before or even been the one that caused that death. He wasn’t innocent and even now, knowing he saved Eilonwy and maybe many others, he didn’t feel all that proud.

“I’ll take it. I can take it,” he said, unsteady as he stepped forward and pulled his sword from Vitani’s back. “Go ahead. If Zira is really dead then Arthur had something to do with it.” He needed to process this guilt a little longer. To forgive himself and know she would make it. Hopefully many others would too. “I’ll be okay. Stay safe.”

And as soon as she was gone, he would lean down and cross her arms over her chest, being sure that he respected her body. Even if she was the enemy, even if she hurt others, at one time she was a person. And he had taken everything she had and would have from then on. “May you find peace wherever peace is.”

#tod #eilonwy #fated ball #THE END #RIP VITANI #EVIL QUEEN

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