#And he never signed on to beat strange creatures to death. He just wants to do his sport and have fun with his friends & family

[really-fanny-longbottom]

tears in pages

summary: because no matter how much time passes, cassian will never forget his first love.

warnings: angst/mentions of arranged marriage, smut, heartbreak, death, grieving and injuries

pairings: cassian x reader

words: 8k (i think?)

love. 

a word.

four letters. 

one feeling. 

infinite meanings. 

love is such a strange feeling that it can vary in so many ways. 

it can provoke so many emotions at the same time, both negative and positive. 

it can make us dream, smile, celebrate. 

it can make us suffer, cry, grieve. 

how can such a small word have such an impactful meaning? 

those who manage to have it once in their lives are considered lucky, those who find it more than once are considered blessed.

but that was not the case with cassian. 

having grown up as he did, in a place surrounded by mountains and by males who despised him, with the words 'bastard' and 'brute' used as greetings, he never imagined himself capable of witnessing such a feeling. 

how could he, when all his life he had to fight for everything, even for the bare minimum?

fortunately, cassian's life took a happy turn, when a few years later, the nose of a young heir with violet eyes and black hair met his fist. 

followed by a quiet and shy boy who had small shadows as companions. 

and a brown-eyed blonde with a great obsession for red clothes and an incredible sense of humor. 

ending with a silver-eyed creature with the age of a god and the feeding habits of a vampire. 

but that was never the kind of love that cassian felt unworthy of having. 

not the kind of love that is meant for family or that can be shared between friends. 

but the love that is reserved for that special person who appears in your life and makes you wonder how you could have lived until that moment without them. 

of the love that makes your stomach tingle with butterflies, of the blushing cheeks that make you look like a certain vegetable and of the smile that can light up the sky on the darkest night.

cassian, who thought he was nothing in life, had a big surprise when he discovered that he was actually blessed.

the question that many ask and few know the answer to: who was the lucky one to first occupy the heart of the general of the night court?

for those who don't know him, they say that nesta archeron is his first love — the mating bond that revealed itself between the two serving as proof of such a statement.

for those who know him a little better, their answers would be tanwyn — the fearless valkyrie who lost her life in the war.

both answers are incorrect.

cassian's journey in love did not begin with either of them.

with only his family as witnesses to the true answer, as they too were blessed to have cassian's first love as a friend — if not a family member.

the story begins with a human girl with a heart bigger than the world, a smile sweeter than honey and eyes so blue they could rival the sea. 

a human girl who was running away from a life she didn't want and whose escape led her to a certain general.

a human girl who stole everyone's heart, with her first victim being cassian's heart. 

her name was y/n. 

•••

he has a mate.

he had never imagined himself in this position.

cassian still didn't know how to process this new information.

he has another chance at love, but not with the person his heart still beats for.

the general found refuge in his room, where he could better organize his thoughts.

one thing he knew — he liked nesta. but loving her? that felt like a betrayal. 

cassian unrolled the paper he held in his hands. although the paper already showed signs of age, the drawing remained intact. 

cassian couldn't take his eyes off that beautiful face — the face he had been blessed to see, love, and caress. it felt like it was a lifetime ago.

"she's beautiful."

the voice startled him. he had been so focused that he hadn't even realized nesta had entered the bedroom.

"i'm sorry, i just wanted to see if you were okay," nesta moved a little closer to him, "you disappeared so quickly after the. . .the bond snapped, and i just want you to know that if you don't want me as your mate, i understand-" 

"sit down," cassian instructed, indicating the space next to him on the bed. "i have something to show you." 

nesta obeyed and watched as cassian fought a battle against himself. following his gaze, she saw what was bothering him so much. 

cassian's eyes were fixed on a small basket that was stored in the corner of the wall next to the bed.

cassian felt tears immediately invade him. 

that damn basket.

every time he looked at it, he was taken back to the past.

but he loved that basket. it was the only physical reminder of the best time of his life.

he painted it that way with his own hands after. . . it took him two weeks to finish.

that damn purple basket with white flowers. 

cassian cursed before getting up slightly from the bed and grabbing one of its handles, dragging it until it was at his feet. 

all the letters were still inside — all of them.

there were more than a hundred in all, some more intimate than others — that ones, cassian didn't dare to read again because he believed his heart couldn't handle going through it again. 

for that very reason, he grabbed his favorites and handed them to nesta.

"here," cassian's hand shook slightly, as did his voice, "read these and you'll understand everything."  

nesta leafed through all the letters in her hands, confusion showing in her furrowed brows. "what are these?"

cassian let out a deep sigh "read them. they'll explain everything." 

she nodded, and so she picked up the first letter and read it. 

•••

dear cassian, today is the third day since i've been back and i'm afraid i have to admit that i miss you already. everything remains the same around here, it feels like i never left. last night, i had an argument with my parents about what had happened. i was very vague about everything, but i did confess that there had been someone and i'm glad i did, because joffrey broke off the engagement this morning. apparently, he no longer has any interest in me now that i'm not 'pure' according to his words. he thinks he humiliated me but in fact he did me a big favor. i went for a walk in the forest this morning and it reminded me of the day we met. do you remember that day? little did we know the adventure that awaited us, and how wonderful it was, don't you agree? with love, y/n 

cassian hated patrol work. he always thought that, next to filling out reports, this was the worst.

normally, this task fell to the spymaster, but with azriel on a mission, the task fell to him.

cassian had already made several rounds and was doing the last border check at the spring court.

everything was fine, until something caught his attention. running through the trees, as if her life depended on it, was a young woman — human.

cassian was surprised. it was very rare for humans to come this far, what was she doing there?

the justification he was looking for appeared when a boy appeared through the trees.

at the speed she was running, it was impossible for this situation to be friendly.

cassian didn't know what to do — he knows he's not supposed to interact with humans, but he couldn't just leave knowing he would hurt her. 

so he did the unthinkable. 

with extreme precision, cassian landed on the ground and began searching for her, following the sound of her footsteps.

when the sound stopped, cassian did too. looking around, he couldn't find anything. his ears didn't prepare him for the body that collided with his chest, knocking the small human to the ground. 

cassian looked at her on the ground. he wonder how long it would take for her to scream and run away.

but that was forgotten when she raised her head.

your eyes, an immense blue, cast a spell over cassian, who found himself lost in them.

never had he seen such blue eyes, not even with the summer or winter fae.

cassian was lost for words and flustered. without even thinking, he reached out a hand and he had the surprise of his life when you placed your small hand in his too large one and allowed him to help you get up. 

"thank you."

cassian had to compose himself before saying, "are you okay?"

his question went unanswered as you were too busy admiring him to listen "wow, you look like a god."

"oh." cassian found himself caught off guard — again.

"so pretty."

cassian blushed. what was going on? he had never blushed before but then again no one had ever called him pretty.

before cassian could speak, several footsteps were heard before the man who was chasing you appeared before you.

you moved behind the general and grabbed his arm as a form of protection.

a human trusted him more — a fae she barely knew than the person in front of him?

cassian didn't like that. the guy paled in front of the general, his eyes widened and his mouth fell open.

"is there a problem?" cassian asked him.

the man began to stutter, unable to formulate a word.

"leave me alone, joffrey. i already told you i'm not going to marry you."

suddenly, joffrey looked at you and his face took on an angry look and when he took a step forward, cassian did too.

joffrey didn't have a chance to take another step, when at the general's movement, he fell to the ground before start running while shouting.

from behind him, laughter was heard. cassian turned to find you and saw you trying to hold back your laughter.

mimicking your smile, cassian pointed in the direction where the guy had been before asking, "your fiancé?"

"arranged marriage." you explained.

"um, aren't you happy?"

"joffrey is horrible. i'd be better off married to a horse than him."

a deep chuckle erupted from the male. you were undoubtedly an interesting human "you're not afraid of me."

"why would i be?" 

"because i'm a fae?" 

"i don't judge people based on their appearance."

that made him shut up and cassian realized it was true. everyone ran away when they saw a fae and here you were, sympathizing with one.

cassian watched you look around.

"i can't go back. if i do, i'll be forced to marry him."

when you reached up to brush your hair away from your face, you noticed the wound on your hand. "is. . .this. . .is this blo. . .blood?"

cassian didn't have time to respond before you passed out. he caught you and lifted you up in his arms, and that sight did something to him.

you did something to him.

and just like that, cassian did the unthinkable a second time that day and took you to velaris with him.

•••

dear cassian, i had an interesting week. i found an injured cat on my way back from the market. the poor thing had a hurt paw and was a little sick, so of course i took him home with me. i fed him, tended to his wound, kept him warm and clean, and made sure he got better. by the end of the week, he was as good as new. i don't know how, but i managed to convince my father to keep him, so now i have a new companion. i named him amren because he looks so much like her. you know what this reminded me of? when you got sick and i took care of you. it was a funny experience, wasn't it? with love, y/n

cassian felt terrible but not as terrible as he would make azriel feel after beating him in the ring for making him sick.

the shadowsinger had returned from his mission in windhaven where he had caught the illyrian flu and now all three brothers were sick.

he was going to make his brother pay, but before he had a chance to think how, his door was opened.

you walked in with a bowl of hot soup in one hand and a large box in the other.

"how is the sick boy?"

"horrible."

a chuckle ran through the room before cassian felt his mattress dip. you made him stand up a little before dipping the spoon into the soup and turning it to him.

"i can eat on my own, thank you." cassian knew how his brothers would tease him for the rest of his life if they saw him being fed by you.

"allow me," you insisted. "you took care of me when i first got here and the small lady said i couldn't get out of bed."

cassian laughed at your description of madja. when he brought you in, she had examined you and discovered that you were severely dehydrated and a little malnourished from the run in the forest and forced you to rest for a week.

cassian took care of you the entire time without ever complaining.

he pointed a finger at you before swallowing the soup. "this can never get out of here."

more giggles reached cassian's ears. how he loved that sound.

"yes, sir general."

cassian ate the soup and ended up repeating after praising your cooking skills one too many times.

board games and cards followed. when cassian's temperature rose, you placed a cold towel on his forehead and read him some poems to help him fall asleep.

a few hours later, rhys went to his brother's room to see how he was doing and was surprised when he saw the two of you.

cassian slept on your chest with his arm around your waist, and you slept with your head resting on his, one arm around his shoulders while the other still held the book.

rhys smiled, and left you two to dream.

•••

dear cassian, autumn is here. this morning, while i was in the garden reading, i had the opportunity to see the flocks of birds migrating. i spent a long time watching them and thinking how lucky they are. it reminded me of the day you took me flying for the first time and how incredible it was. what i would give to fly with you one more time. with love, y/n

"i won't let you fall."

your nervous look made cassian chuckle. the male stood in front of you as he watched you stare at the city below.

"don't you want to go see the city?" 

"of course i do!" you replied, "but humans don't fly."

a round of laughter invaded cassian, he loved the way you were so direct and straightforward. 

two weeks had passed since your arrival, and you kept talking about how you wanted to see the city.

even though it was night, cassian had told you how beautiful it is at night, leading the two of you to the balcony.

approaching you, cassian took your hand and when you looked away from him he placed a finger under your chin and forced you to look at him "you're safe with me, sweetheart."

your eyes acquired a shine that made cassian's heart skip a beat "promise?"

as he placed a light kiss on your hand, cassian promised you.

the general lifted you in his arms and took flight. your body was invaded by adrenaline, making you hide your head in the male's neck for the first few seconds. but with his encouragement, you opened your eyes.

the sparkle returned to your eyes and you felt like you were in a real fairy tale.

it seemed like a dream — the city lit up by stars, the rainbow bridge, the river under the moonlight, people dancing and singing in the streets.

you were so taken aback by everything that your eyes didn't even look away when cassian spoke. "i have an idea. do you trust me?"

"with my life."

cassian felt the weight of your words, but before he could think too much about them, he hugged you around your waist, making you fall into his embrace and stay underneath him.

cassian descended his flight and took you straight to the river where he lowered you until your hands could reach the water.

you stretched out your arms and felt the cold water tickle you making you laugh nonstop. you traveled the entire river, until cassian lifted you higher again, but you kept your arms open the whole time.

it seemed like you were really flying.

freedom and magic had never seemed more beautiful to you.

you smiled all night.

•••

dear cassian, today i was invaded by one of the best memories ever. my mother braided my hair for church and i couldn't help but blush and giggle almost the entire time. i was greeted by strange looks from her but it didn't bother me at all. how could it be when i was thinking about you? that night was special, wasn't it? i know it was for me. with love, y/n

today was one of those days.

the one that cassian just wanted to end. his mother's birthday was always a difficult day for him, and if he could, he would just skip it completely. 

in an attempt to feel better, cassian went in search of the only thing that offer him comfort these days. 

three knocks on the wooden door and a second later, cassian entered the room and upon seeing your smiling face, the tension that tormented him left his body.

you greeted him with a smile so big that it almost disarmed the general completely.

"hey, big boy." several giggles followed your greeting.

cassian couldn't help the giggles that also came out of him, as he closed the door and headed towards the bed where you were sitting.

"hey, little one." cassian was enjoying this new type of flirting — innocent and pure, true and funny, with no ulterior motives. 

you were already ready for bed. your nightgown was white and one of the straps was hanging down because you were finishing braiding your hair. 

his troat got a little dry.

"are you okay? you look a little sad." 

cassian's eyes shifted back to yours, and his heart warmed at your kindness. 

"i'm fine. it's just one of those days." 

understanding dawned on your face, "well, lucky for you, i have the best medicine for that." 

amusement filled cassian's face. raising an eyebrow, he asked "it's that so?" 

nodding your head, you grabbed his hand and led him to sit in front of you on the floor. 

cassian ignored the feeling of your bare legs on either side of his shoulders, your soft and smooth skin touching the skin of his arms. 

moments later, cassian felt his hair being combed on one side while the other was caressed by your fingers. 

the general immediately relaxed. closing his eyes, he let his back fall against the bed, filling all the space between you.

"my grandmother used to do this to me when i was little, especially when i was sad. it was impossible not to feel better after."

"were you close?" cassian found himself asking. 

"a lot, there were times when i considered her more my mother than my own mother." 

"you must have loved her very much."

several giggles came out of you. "i did, but we never used that expression." 

through the mirror, you watched cassian frown in confusion, causing you to laugh again "what do you mean?"

"my grandmother was a complicated woman. when she was younger, she didn't believe in love. she thought it was impossible to love someone more than anything." 

cassian listened attentively to every word you said.

"until she met my grandfather. she said that whenever she was with him, her heart beat faster, as if it was beating for him, and not for her. as if her heart belonged to him." 

cassian found your face in the mirror, and the smile you wore as you brushed his hair made him give a matching smile. 

you were talking with so much love, so much adoration.

"whenever she wanted to express her love for my grandfather, she would say 'my heart beats for you'. i've always loved that expression, i think it's much more sincere than the other one to be honest." 

your expression of adoration was replaced by one of surprise "i've never told anyone this before."  

cassian realized what you meant behind those words and before he could stop himself, he took a leap of confidence.

"today would be my mother's birthday." 

and so, the two of you talked all night long. 

cassian told you about his mother, about his  childhood, about the war, about everything.

you hugged him, wiped his tears, and kissed his cheeks — he blushed but you pretended you didn't notice.

you ended up braiding his hair while telling him how you wanted to be a teacher and open your own school for girls and boys because in your village only men could study.

how you wanted to help improve the future lives of those girls who were just as deserving of a good life as any boy. 

cassian found himself wondering how could you be this perfect and how lucky he felt that he was the one to find you.

in the future, when anyone asked him about the moment he fell in love with you, cassian would talk about this night. 

•••

dear cassian, i miss my days in prythian. i miss you. i don't want to be human anymore. i want you. y/n

the restaurants cassian took you to so you could sample the delicious food velaris offered, including the bakeries where cassian discovered you had a sweet tooth for chocolate cake. he found himself wiping chocolate off your chin several times.

the nights at rita's where you and rhysand did karaoke side by side, acting like superstars.

your chess battles with amren, and how she could never win a single game against you, always claiming that you were cheating.

the girls' nights with morrigan, and the shopping trips she took you on.

the reading time with azriel, where just the company of each other was enough for you.

the training sessions between azriel and cassian that brought your not-so-decent scenarios with the general to life in your mind.

the night flights in cassian's arms.

the nights when you always braided his hair so that it wouldn't get knotted while he slept.

your discovery of green herbal tea that helped cassian with his allergies.

the night you outlined cassian's tattoos as a way to help him relax after a hard day.

and your favorite. your birthday when the inner circle organized a surprise party for you and cassian gave you what become your favorite piece of clothing — a purple dress with white flowers.

•••

dear cassian, the first rain has come to my village and with it has brought back some memories. i spent most of the afternoon sitting by the window just to appreciate the view. when i was questioned from my mother about my doings, i gave her this same answer and she looked at me strangely, saying that there was nothing beautiful to appreciate. oh, cass, how wrong she is. i haven't been able to get you out of my head since the first drops touched the earth. what a special day that was for us. dare i say one of the best? i will cherish that day forever as long as my memory allows it, but i know that it will always remain in my heart. how could i forget, when that was the day i felt alive again in a long time? i just hope you felt the same way. with love, y/n

it was raining non-stop.

what had started out as a sunny day had quickly turned into a gray one.

you and cassian struggled not to slip on the wet dirt as you ran to the cabin.

the cabin by the lake that rhysand had lent you for a weekend together. you had gone to visit a fair that was taking place in a nearby village before the rain changed your plans.

cassian knew that your time together was coming to an end, and that this was rhys's way of letting you say goodbye to each other, and for that, he was grateful.

holding hands, only your laughter and the rain were audible.

looking at you, cassian saw your smile, the one he likes so much. a pang sounded in his heart and forced him to stop.

"what's wrong?" you asked when you noticed.

"i don't know what you're doing to me."

confusion fell over your face "what?"

"the things you're making me feel. i've never felt anything like this before."

the world stopped. suddenly, it was just you and him, him and you. the only audible sound was the beating of your hearts.

"my heart beats for you." he confessed, "he's been beating for you for some time now."

several tears ran down your face and your breath got caught in your throat.

this was really happening.

a big smile formed on your face "my heart beats for you, too."

a great sigh of relief left his mouth, with a smile that matched yours, the general didn't waste another moment to do what he had been dreaming of doing for weeks.

he kissed you with all his strength.

you who were stealing his heart since the day he saw you.

you returned the kiss immediately encouraging cassian to deepen the kiss, making you lean back a little.

taking advantage of this new change, cassian took the opportunity to wrap his hands around the back of your thighs, propelling you upwards, making you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

the male carried you to cabin, and then to the bedroom, whose door was opened with a kick without ever breaking the kiss.

cassian supported his knees on the mattress, lowering your bodies until your back rested gently on the surface of the bed.

his hands traveled your body, while your hands slid down the width of his back, feeling every muscle he had there under your palms.

your hands continued their path until they reached the hem of his shirt. when you showed your intention to lift it, your action was interrupted by cassian.

"wait." he asked, leaning on his knees and holding your small wrists in his too-large hands.

"is there a problem?"

your legs continued to rest on either side of cassian's legs, you showed no intention of moving.

"you're human."

your eyes dropped to the skirt of your dress, a pang of shame reaching your heart. you couldn't help but think that maybe he didn't want to do this because you would never be able to satisfy him like the females in his world.

after all, you are just a simple human while they look like goddesses compared to you.

"no, it's not that."

your eyes immediately flew to meet those brown ones. cassian approached and ran a hand over your face.

"trust me, it's not that. i've never wanted anyone like i want you, but. . . "

your hand rested on his, which was on your cheek, heating up with each movement of the male.

"i'm afraid i might hurt you. i'm much stronger than you and i don't want to hur-"

"you could never hurt me." you were quick to interrupt him and the feeling of relief that filled you was welcome.

he wants you, but he's just afraid of hurting you.

your heart skipped a beat at his kindness.

"i know you'd never hurt me, cass. it's okay, i want this." this time, you were the one caressing his face, "i trust you."

oh, if you only knew how much those three words had an effect on him.

never in his four hundred years had cassian ever felt this way about anyone.

someone who made him feel alive.

someone who gave him a purpose.

nodding, cassian was quick to kiss you again, and when you tried to take off his shirt again, he didn't stop you.

standing up, he undid his pants, button by button. you watched as his pants slid down his muscular thighs.

now in just his boxers, you took in the incredible sight of the warrior he was — his muscles, his tattoos, and those strands of hair tied in a bun while the rest remained loose.

an absolute god.

what an impossible mission it was to meet this male and not fall madly in love with him.

cassian broke the last step when his boxers joined the pile of his clothes on the floor.

you couldn't stop your gaze from lingering on his length for longer than it should have.

a chuckle from cassian broke your trance and you tried to hide your blushing cheeks as you stood up and stood in front of him with your back turned.

you felt the male's breathing get heavier as you gently slid your hair over one shoulder, giving him a view of the zipper of your dress.

cassian's hands were shaking slightly as the general began to slide the clasp all the way down, being greeted by your bare back.

a kiss was placed at the beginning of your spine, sending shivers down it, while two large hands slid the dress off your shoulders until it fell to the floor.

when you found cassian's face again, you watched as his eyes traveled over your body, memorizing every detail.

with your eyes still on his, you lay back down on the mattress. cassian followed you, resting his forearms on the sides of your head.

his fingers traveled through your hair while his lips were busy kissing you.

the kiss took another turn when the kisses strayed to your cheek, followed by your neck and down your chest until they reached your belly and stopped just below your belly button.

cassian lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours in a silent question.

"yes."

he placed one last kiss on your belly before his hands grabbed the fabric of your underwear and slid them down your legs.

several light kisses were placed on the inside of your thighs as the male made another round of kisses until he reached your lips.

when his hips aligned with yours, you felt a pressure at your entrance that caused a new sensation in your belly.

cassian grabbed one of your arms, lifting and bending it over your head before intertwining your fingers with his and holding it there.

his other hand slid down your thigh until he lifted it and held it higher on his hip.

"are you sure?"

a nod wasn't enough for the male who preferred words for what was about to happen.

"words, baby."

your heart skipped another beat. could this male be more perfect?

with a look of love written all over your face, you said "make me yours."

cassian fell apart at your words and as quick as a snap of his fingers, his heart surrendered to you completely.

lifting his hips slightly, cassian pushed inside and a strange sensation invaded you.

he made sure his movement was slow and gentle so as not to hurt you, until he was completely inside.

your heart was racing as was your breathing, as you tried to get used to this new sensation that could be described as strange, a little painful but at the same time pleasant.

cassian stood still for a few seconds, using his free hand to caress your hair "relax, baby."

following his advice, your muscles relaxed and the tension disappeared from your body, leaving only pleasure.

giving the male an indication to continue, cassian moved slowly and gently with each encounter of your hips.

as you got used to it, his thrusts became deeper and more precise.

your moans mixed with cassian's grunts, your bodies moving in harmony.

your body exploded and you found yourself sailing in a sea of pleasures where each sensation left you feeling incredible.

just when you thought it couldn't get any better, cassian wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing you closer, and held both of your hands above your head as he took a few minutes to explore your chest.

sucking and biting, you were left with love marks all over your skin.

this is where you wanted to be. in this bed, in the arms of this male.

you wanted to display all these marks of love so that everyone could know that the two of you belonged together.

you remained wrapped in each other until the next morning sun came to greet you.

•••

the day you and cassian had to say goodbye is not one he wants to remember.

it was months later, during one of the parties organized by the high lord in the hewn city.

after a night full of laughter, dancing and food, an attempt on rhys's life occurred. the inner circle was quick to act but not before one of the attackers hurt you.

madja was able to heal some of your injuries but due to your human nature, the others would take longer to heal.

guilt consumed cassian, reminding him how fragile you were compared to them.

cassian could not be selfish with you and make you stay in his world just so he could be with you.

he held you in his arms, kissing you and telling how much his heart beats for you.

the next morning, you woke up in your village with the a ghost feeling of strong arms around you as last memory.

•••

my love, i'm getting married. i understand that this may come as a big surprise but this time is different. i'm ready for a life beyond my parents' reach. his name is liam, we have known each other since we were children when he lived across the house from me. i met him again when i was returning from church, i learned that he recently lost his wife to a virus in a village in the north. he returned to his parents' house after his wife's funeral to start over. we have kept in touch ever since and life has led us to take the next step. we are not in love, not even close, but we are friends, we enjoy each other's company and we both want the same thing and guess what? liam loved my idea of being a teacher and opening a small school. he is a good man, he treats me very well and supports my dreams, i think everything will be fine. i bought my wedding dress the other day and i couldn't help but think about the beautiful dresses i would find in velaris and how pretty you would look in a suit at the altar. oh, cass, how i wish it was you. how i wish it was you to whom i would say those two little words. i still have some preparations to make until the wedding day, next friday. and i already know that if he ever goes off the rails, all i have to do is describe to him an illyrian general who would be happy to settle scores with him. i miss you, cass. my heart beats for you. forever yours, y/n

cassian was nervous.

he knew he shouldn't be here, but he couldn't stop himself from coming.

a part of him believed that you wanted him here, that the mention of your wedding day had been intentional so he could come.

at least, that's what he tried to convince his brothers when rhysand and azriel tried to stop him.

the sun had set long ago, but the party continued.

cassian watched the light emitted by the windows of the small church and the music that was playing inside.

several voices laughing and singing could be heard through the thin wood.

cassian paced back and forth, wondering what he should do.

the male walked a few steps towards the church only to walk back and find his brothers coming out of the trees.

a sigh of annoyance left the general's mouth, who received looks of understanding from his brothers.

"you can't be here, cass," rhysand told him for what seemed like the hundredth time since that letter had reached his brother's hands.

"what am i supposed to do, rhys?" pain showed in cassian's brown eyes, causing a pang of pain in his brothers hearts.

"my girl is in there getting married to a guy who isn't me."

azriel approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder and lightly squeezing him. "we know, but it's dangerous for you to be here, brother. what if someone sees you?"

"i'm not afraid of them, az." cassian gave him an incredulous look, as if the male didn't know what he was made of.

"i'm not talking about you," cassian's confusion was enough for him to continue. "y/n is in there. if someone sees you and tries to hurt you, she'll step in and stop it from happening. and then what? what do you think they'd do to her if they found out you were the person she was with while she was away?"

cassian's stomach turned at the mere thought of someone being capable of hurting you.

you who radiate kindness and gentleness.

"he's right, cass. not all humans are understanding, many of them would never accept the fact that y/n chose you over one of them." rhysand added.

cassian hung his head in defeat and with a simple nod, conveyed his understanding to his brothers.

just as they turned their backs on the church and prepared to leave, a honey-sweet voice stopped them.

"cass?"

a wave of electricity invaded the male's body and a sense of relief filled him.

he would recognize that voice anywhere. even if he was at the ends of the world, he would recognize you.

cassian's knees nearly gave out when he turned around and found the most beautiful bride he had ever seen.

you were on the church porch. your hair was tied up in a bun with a bridal pin on top holding a transparent, shiny veil.

you displayed a white shiny dress that started with a sweetheart neckline whose fabric hugged your form until your hips and then cascaded down to your feet.

you were mesmerizing with the starlight completing you.

cassian forgot how to breathe.

if his time came at that precise moment, he would die happy.

"cass!" your eyes lit up as your feet carried you to him.

cassian ran to you and when you threw yourself into his arms, he held you as if his life depended on it.

he inhaled your scent, memorized the softness of your skin and recorded the sound of your laughter.

cassian would stay in this position forever, with you in his arms, safe, happy and loved.

but that was interrupted when you ended the hug and pulled away just long enough to firmly grab his face and kiss him directly on his lips.

cassian kissed you back immediately. a kiss that told him so much even without words spoken in between.

how much you missed him, how much you loved him and how much to desire to be with him.

when the kiss ended, your foreheads remained together with your hands still on each other's cheeks, as you tried to calm your hearts and catch your breath.

a light laugh from you broke the silence "i missed you."

"i missed you too, baby."

"we missed you too, y/n" rhys's voice reached your ears, making you turn in the arms of your male and look in the direction of his brothers.

azriel and rhysand raised their hands together in greeting, goofy smiles on their faces.

"i missed you too, boys," your eyes redirected to those brown who invaded your dreams "but not as much as your pretty brother here."

cassian blushed, looking away from you and hiding his face in your neck, leaving his brothers giggling and mocking him.

the small moment of tenderness didn't last long when a pair of footsteps reached the ears of the illyrians, making them go into defense mode.

cassian quickly placed you behind him while rhysand and azriel joined his sides with weapons ready.

not far away, a sharp scream broke through the garden and a small 'pum' echoed beneath your feet.

before anything tragic could happen, you stepped in front of the males, trying to contain your laughter.

"it's okay! it's liam!"

liam — the human on the ground — was in a fetal position, with his head hidden in his knees and his arms wrapped around them.

"please, don't hurt me." he begged.

"liam," you tried to stifle your laughter but failed as you helped him up, "they're not going to hurt you, you idiot."

"oh," liam let out a small nervous laugh as he adjusted his coat and pants. "well, that's good. thank you."

the males put away their weapons as they observed what was your new husband.

the smile that adorned your face at the scene that had just taken place did not go unnoticed by them.

as you linked your arm with liam's, you approached the males and made the proper introductions.

"liam, this is rhysand and azriel." you paused briefly as the three shook hands.

a look of love took over your face "and this is cassian," a brief pause, enough for your eyes to regain that shine that was meant only for him "my cassian."

the male's heart skipped a beat and began beating so fast that he only realized it when his brothers' giggles started again.

clearing his throat and composing himself, cassian ignored the two idiots on the left and looked at liam.

he didn't know what to expect from the man's reaction but it was definitely not what displayed next.

"it's very nice to meet you, sir. i heard great things about you."

"you did?" cassian asked suprised.

you were the one to answer this time "i told liam about us. he's not like the others."

liam shook hands with cassian, before stepping back and exclaiming "i'll give you two a moment alone," looking at you he continued "i'll be inside when you're ready."

gratitude and joy filled your eyes bringing tears to the surface "thank you, liam."

"of course." liam replied as he took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

already heading towards the church, liam was stopped in his tracks, with a voice he knew belonged to a general without even looking back.

"yes?" he asked as he found cassian's face again.

cassian looked at you — at your eyes that shone every time you looked at him and as he ran a hand over your face, he placed his hand on the back of your neck bringing you into a hug.

as soon as your face touched his chest, you wrapped your arms around his waist, one of his hands remained on your neck while the other found your waist.

your body immediately relaxed against his and cassian had to look away from you as tears invaded his eyes.

he had to clear his throat before proceeding "take care of my girl."

liam gave him a genuine smile that showed cassian he could trust him. "i will. you have my word."

with a nod from the male, liam continued on his way until he entered the church.

a simple look at his brothers told them what cassian wanted.

a moment alone with you — the last one.

azriel and rhysand placed a kiss on the top of your head in turn before leaving.

there in the middle of a garden, in the moonlight, you and cassian danced.

"my heart beats for you." you said it one last time.

"my heart beats for you, baby."

you danced together for a long time.

the dance that was supposed to be witnessed by the whole world on your wedding day.

but instead, only the stars got to witnessed it.

•••

dear cassian, today marks two months since i started teaching. the renovations were finished a few weeks after the wedding and the school is finally up and running. the first few days were difficult, many girls didn't show up because some parents still believed that education is only for boys but i think the gods are on my side. by the fourth week there were so many girls and boys that there wasn't room for one more person. many of the children had to sit on the tables and windowsills, can you believe it? the children are contagious and have such a curiosity to learn that it fills my heart with joy. liam and i have been married for six months. we found a nice house near the lake and everything is going well. we are planning a trip to the mainland at the end of the year. it will be our honeymoon since we didn't have the chance after the wedding. i hope you are all well. with love, y/n

on top of a tree planted in a garden in front of a small school, a large illyrian general struggled with his weight to stay stable in the branches.

on the general's face was one of the biggest smiles he had ever shown.

his eyes were fixed on the scene that was unfolding a few feet away from him on the ground.

in the middle of the garden, in front of a small school, there was you. — his girl.

cassian watched as you stood in the middle of a circle, singing and clapping, while the children danced around you with smiles on their faces — faces full of a happiness caused by you.

the scene brought tears to his eyes.

you were happy.

your dream had come true.

and it was at that precise moment that he knew he had made the right decision in letting you go.

•••

dear cassian, i've been very busy with school and the children. it's been rewarding to be able to be a part of these little beings who grow more and more with each passing day. liam is doing well, we celebrated his birthday a few weeks ago. we're both very happy and our relationship gets better every day. this is a very special time for us, especially now that we've discovered that our family of two will soon become a family of three. who would have thought, me as a mom, can you imagine? my little bump is already noticeable and the baby kicked for the first time the other day. i already love this baby so much. i'm happy. with love, y/n

"where have you been?"

rhysand's voice attacked cassian's mind with a tone too loud.

cassian was sitting on the couch with several empty bottles of alcohol at his feet and tears streaming down his face.

rhys didn't need an answer from his brother to realize where he had gone.

"you went to see her."

more tears ran down cassian's face, and the male took another sip before speaking.

"they were building the crib."

rhysand let out a sigh and approached the male, taking the bottle from him and grabbing his shoulder. "you can't keep doing this to yourself, cassian. you have to let her go."

"i can't," cassian began to sob, "i don't want to."

without any way of predicting it, rhys rocked back as cassian hugged him.

the high lord's heart broke for his brother — his love for you was unquestionable.

"she looked so beautiful, rhys," the sobs grew louder, "she was wearing the purple dress with white flowers and . . . and her little bump was showing."

rhys hugged his brother tightly, showing him that he was there for him.

"i want her back. i want my girl back."

cassian fell asleep crying.

•••

dear cassian, my babygirl is here. on a summer night, cassie marie came into this world screaming and kicking. she is absolutely perfect. liam and i decided to name her after the loves we lost, i hope you like it. cassie has my hair and liam's nose but somehow she has your eyes and according to liam, marie's freckles. if this isn't a gift from the gods, then i don't know what is. cassie is now four months old, she's always smiling and communicating in her sweet way. you should see her, cassian, she's so beautiful. sometimes i let myself wonder what it would be like if she had little bat wings and black hair. even after all this, my heart still beats for you. with love, y/n

on the porch of a house by the lake, sitting in a rocking chair, a mother sang to her newborn daughter.

the beautiful girl listened attentively to her mother's voice, who looked at her with all the love in the world reflected in her blue eyes.

the baby smiled from time to time, babbling here and there, trying to join her mother.

cassian watched from the shadows.

the scene unfolding before his eyes brought him peace — a peace mixed with a certain kind of pain.

unable to help himself, he also imagined what it would be like if that little girl had small bat wings and black hair.

he imagined what it would be like to be able to hold those two precious things in his arms and be able to call them his own.

cassian couldn't hold back the tears.

that was the last time he ever saw you.

•••

dear cassian, it's been so long since my last letter. a lot has changed since then. liam and i have now been married for eight years, cassie is six, wren is three and lucy just turned one. liam and i moved to a bigger house about two years ago. our children are our greatest blessings, cassie loves to paint and read, wren has developed a new obsession with bugs and rocks, and lucy loves it when i sing to her. i wish i could slow down time so they wouldn't grow up so fast. my father passed away last year after catching a bad case of the flu, but don't worry, i'm better now. i'm glad father got to meet lucy before he left us. my birthday is coming up and I'll be thirty-two soon. it feels like a lifetime ago since i met you. every time i see cassie's eyes, i see you and my heart fills with love and good memories. my heart still beats for you, cass. with love, y/n

•••

dear cassian, how time flies. i can't remember the last letter i wrote you. cassie is twenty now and has a boyfriend who liam isn't very happy with. she wants to be a teacher like me and one day when she's ready, she'll take my place at school. wren is almost eighteen and has decided he wants to be a doctor like his dad. he's been helping liam at the clinic lately. the first few days were hard, he threw up a few times but he's getting the hang of it. lucy loves nature. flowers, animals, trees, anything that involves it. she doesn't know what she wants to be yet but she's still young and has a lot of time until then. everything is going well. with love, y/n

•••

dear cassian, i'm a grandmother. last week, my cassie gave birth to a beautiful boy. the boyfriend that liam didn't like ended up proving himself to us and three years later, he and my little girl tied the knot. my grandson is beautiful, just like his mother. cassie has already taken my place at school and can't stop talking about how excited she is to go back. in a few months, it will be my son's turn to marry with girl who used to be my student. they make a beautiful couple. lucy ended up opening a bookstore and she's so happy. liam and i retired about a year ago and with all our babies out of the house and their lives organized, our house has become emptier and quieter. i'm not a big fan of this, but it's been useful because we have been taking advantage of this time to travel more, like we always wanted to. life has been good to me. with love, y/n

•••

my love, i turned eighty-three today. my family threw me a big surprise party surrounded by family and friends, it was one of the best i've ever had. i already have five grandchildren, did you know? my lucy had her first a few months ago. lately, i've been thinking a lot about the life i've built, about everything i've experienced. time is starting to pass by me, cass, i can feel it in my bones. it hurts me to say that i don't remember you anymore. no matter how hard i try, i can't remember your face or your voice but do you know what i can still remember? that my heart beats for you just as it always has. live well, cass. be happy and when your time comes, look for me in the next life. my heart will forever belong to you. forever yours, your girl, y/n

•••

the letter arrived on a gray morning.

the sun was hidden behind the clouds as if it was too afraid to come say 'hi'.

it was a strange morning, cassian thought.

despite the fact that it was already the last days of summer, pryhtian was still a few weeks away from welcoming the next season.

the inner circle was in the living room having breakfast at the house of wind.

nuala entered the room with a letter sealed that was resting on a white porcelain platter.

a huge smile immediately spread across the general's face.

after all, it was the first thursday of the month and everyone knew what that meant — a letter from you.

cassian didn't wait for nuala to cross the room to him. standing up as quickly as possible, wiping his hands on the pants fabric, cassian walked over to her.

he thanked the half-wraith, still with his mouth full, as he hurried to take the letter out and open it.

a few steps away, sitting at the oak table, his family studied with amusement in their eyes and genuine smiles.

cassian wasn't the only one who looked forward to your letters and the words contained in them — the first thursday of the month was always a day of great excitement for everyone, even for your old chess partner.

but, unfortunately, this wasn't a normal thursday.

the members of the inner circle were quick to notice this when cassian's behavior changed.

how he remained with his back turned, instead of turning around ready to share the letter with them;

how his knees began to weaken, instead of running back to the table smiling;

how his breathing became rapid and strangled, instead of letting out several laughs;

how from one moment to the next, everything changed.

cassian fell to his knees.

a second — that was all it took for his heart to stop.

a strangled sound of pain woke azriel and rhysand from their trances and they ran to their brother's aid.

morrigan and amren followed them, staying just a few steps away from where the three brothers were now on the ground.

four strong arms wrapped around cassian's body, whose chest shook with pain as his tears fell onto the abandoned letter on the floor, blurring the various words written on it.

through their brother's tears, the two males could only make out one sentence that remained untouched.

their hearts were immediately struck, as if someone had ambushed them and stolen a part of them.

tears that matched cassian's gathered in his family's eyes.

grief invaded them in the worst possible way.

you had died in your sleep.

the sun did not shine that day.

•••

she was lost for words.

she would never have imagined the depth of your love story with cassian.

now it all made sense.

the fact that he was scared by the revelation of the bond — the fact that he was insecure and afraid to accept it.

"i need you to understand that a part of my heart will always belong to her."

cassian began by saying, his eyes never meeting nesta's.

"after y/n, i never went back to being with another woma-" clearing his throat, he adjusted his position on the bed "with another female."

"for decades i couldn't even look at another female with that intention. y/n completely disarmed me."

a hoarse laugh escaped his lips "she turned my world upside down. she changed me for the better and showed me a life i never thought i was worthy of. so i need you to understand this before you make a decision about the bond."

his eyes met nesta's face for the first time.

"no matter how many years, decades, centuries pass, i will never, ever stop loving her. she was the one who made my heart beat for the first time, and even after one hundred and seventy-two years since she left this world. . .my heart continues to beat for her and it always will."

for the second time that day, nesta was lost for words.

she couldn't comprehend that kind of love — a love so deep, so true, so powerful.

she hoped that one day she could be blessed and experience it.

even though she knew that cassian would never love her like he loved you — to her surprise, that didn't bother her.

"i understand," a soft smile appeared on her lips and nesta felt relieved when cassian mimicked her, "you really loved her, huh?"

the male nodded several times before confessing out loud "more than life itself."

a moment of silence followed before cassian got up from the bed and walked towards his dresser.

underneath a set of clothes, the male took out a parchment.

on his way to nesta, he held it against his chest as if he was assimilating everything that was happening before stopping in front of her.

"she left you a letter." cassian surprised her and handed her a parchment before retreating to the balcony.

nesta stared at the parchment in her hands for a while, trying to figure out the meaning behind those words.

clarity dawned on her — not for her, but for cassian's future wife.

your consideration warmed her heart. rhysand was right — you really did have a gift for stealing people's hearts.

nesta broke the seal and a sweet smell invaded her space.

honey — your scent, nesta realized. she unrolled the letter and read it.

hello, future lady general, my name is y/n and if you are reading this letter, then i assume that cass has already told you about me. i can see that we are both lucky to have such a male in our lives. i don't know how much about our story cass has already told you but by now you must be aware that i am human. or that i was, depending when you're reading this. even though my heart beats for him, we're not meant to be, so i'm writing this letter to tell you a little bit about this amazing male that rocked my world. he's kind, honest, loyal, loving, funny, and so pretty. even though he thinks 'pretty' is a cheesy word, believe me, he likes it when people call him that. he loves flying at night, especially on summer nights. he's a big fan of music. he loves to eat, but he hates eating alone. it reminds him of his childhood in windhaven, so even if you're not eating, sit with him. he had a rough childhood and sometimes he lets those memories get to him, so on those days don't talk to him, just hug him and show him that you're there for him. he has allergies, a lot of them, so in the spring, make him a green herbal tea, it always works. he loves having his hair brushed and braided (he'll never admit it), especially at night before going to bed, that way he won't wake up with knots in his hair. and he loves kisses. in his cheek, in his nose, in his forehead, in his lips, so whenever you get a chance kiss him. it may be a little difficult at first, he has some difficulty in opening up but don't give up on him, he's worth it. please take care of my cass, he can be a little grumpy sometimes, but he's an incredible male who deserves the stars and so much more. make him laugh, make him smile, make him cry, make him scream, make him feel, make him live. make him my cassian again, and not the cassian he will became when my time in this world comes to an end. love him, appreciate him, enjoy him, protect him, accept him. make him yours. i hope your heart beats for him, just like mine still does. thank you, y/n

tears filled nesta archeron's eyes.

the female needed to take a few deep breaths for her heart to recover from what she had just read.

this letter was the only thing she needed to realize how much you had loved cassian and how easy it had been for him to fall in love with you.

who wouldn't? you seemed perfect.

she found cassian on the balcony with his arms resting on the wall and his head down.

the older archeron sister didn't even want to imagine the pain that her mate had felt throughout these years for his late love.

in that moment, nesta knew that she could never replace you, and not even she wanted that, but she wanted to do exactly what you had left in the letter for her.

to do what, unfortunately, you were only able to do for a short period of time and somehow be able to bring comfort to your soul knowing that your cassian was in good hands.

her gray eyes drifted to the letters that remained on the bed.

her eyes traveled through them but the only thing she could focus on was those pages.

the pages that were proof of cassian's grieve.

the pages that were marked by tears.

a/n: thank you for reading! i fell in love with this story even if it hurt to write some of it.

general taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @lure-of-writing @pruvii @olive-main @mybestfriendmademe @anuttellaa @mrsjna @lively-potter @meul-a @avajustreads @littlelou22 @talesofadragon @circe143 @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @dark-chaos-314 @tequilya @scoliobean @saltedcoffeescotch @charlotteintumbleland @dark-chaos-314 @agirlwithwifiandalaptop

*if you asked to be tagged and you weren't, it's because I couldn't find your blog.

the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune

[anhed-nia]

BLOGTOBER 10/7/2024: TAROT (2024)

What would you guys call this subgenre? Where teenagers perform a youth ritual (fortune-telling, game-playing, Bloody Mary type rites, etc) and it systematically kills them in some ironic way? WISH UPON is a decent example, as I recall, and last year I puzzled over THE FRIENDSHIP GAME which I still do not understand a thing about and I double dog dare you to convincingly explain it to me. I found TAROT only moderately more explainable; I recognized the main elements and I understood what the message was supposed to be, but past that point I really could not wrap my head around this.

Haley (Harriet Slater) and her friends rent out a rural mansion to party in, and when they run out of booze they smash in a locked door (very strange behavior when you see how goofy and childlike they all are) only to find a mysterious tarot deck. Haley then reads everyone's...horoscopes. Some combination of the card representing the querent and the given astrological advice fuses into a supernatural event that kills that person; the deaths are enacted by freaky ghouls that resemble the cards, but sometimes they're peculiarly mundane. I mean, look, if you solve the lament configuration, groovy demons come and rip you apart with magic hooks and chains from Hell and they reconfigure your whole being. That tracks. In TAROT, on the other hand, one girl draws the High Priestess card and is told "You're a Libra and you want to climb the ladder of success" or something, and then a creature that looks like the High Priestess comes and just beats her to death with a ladder! I laughed and laughed.

I found some things about his movie funny-dumb, and other things confusing-dumb. I know about more woo-woo nonsense than I would prefer to admit here, and there are all sorts of things you can do with tarot decks, I'm sure there is an astrology-related technique--but in the movie this is just unnecessarily confusing. I don't know why it wasn't good enough to just base deaths on tarot cards...especially since a bunch of the astrological stereotypes are wrong here. Maybe I'm projecting but in my experience, everybody knows what their sign is and what the cliches are about it, even if they think astrology is total bullshit; not only are horoscopes popular enough to be in newspapers, but most people find it flattering and interesting to be assigned a personalized category, whether it's your personality test thingy or what animal goes with the year you were born in the Chinese system. So when I'm watching this tarot card movie that for some reason centers astrology, it's very distracting when they say "You're a Taurus, so you make rash decisions" when Tauruses are always called stubborn and lazy, and "Capricorns are rule-breakers" when Capricorns are always told that they're responsible to the point of being boring. Just look up some astro bullshit online if this is the story you're doing, if you don't have a flaky friend who always wants to tell you this shit, it's not hard!

But please don't think this is my biggest problem, that TAROT is not realistic about the pseudosciences. A lot of stuff about this movie made no sense to me, including just the casual banter. The comic relief character Paxton (Jacob Batalon) gets his cards read and asks if he'll marry someone hot or become rich, and his friend says, "She's not genie!", and I'm like...do kids not know what a genie does anymore? Or, we are constantly reminded that Paxton is into true crime--which doesn't affect anything at all, really--and when the gang decides to return to the mansion to look for clues, he goes, "This is True Crime 101, never go back to where it all began!" And I'm wondering...what does that mean? I mean, if you're researching a crime then you might go to the relevant sites, like a home town or a murder scene, but does this guy think that...I mean, what bad thing does he think happens, if you go back to where it all began? What the fuck is he talking about?

Even though I have a lot of questions about why TAROT has to be the way it is, it does have a point: the old "no fate but what we make" bit. Haley was convinced of the veracity of tarot cards when they predicted that her mother would die, and it turns out the cards have inspired some pretty bad decisions since then. But it's sort of weird to conclude that people should create their own futures when the movie's events are entirely motivated by someone making accurate predictions, and magic being real: Eventually the gang learns that the deck was cursed (apparently it killed a bunch of people at Woodstock, which I thought was funny) by the spirit of an angry astrologer with magic powers who was blamed when her grim prophecies came true. I'm just going to spoil the ending because I found it pretty hilarious: To get rid of the spirit, Haley has to read its horoscope. So you get this weird battle where the spirit is flailing around and freaking out while Haley reads its cards and gives it all this new age pop psychology advice about healing and shit. I love the idea that the same exact type of spiritual advice you would get out of your flakiest friend, who begged you to let them read your chart or your cards (or both!), is actually a legitimately powerful weapon against the forces of darkness. I was cracking up. Somebody tell these filmmakers to do crystals next!

[wouldyoustilllovemeifiwasawyrm]

Shattered Mirror

Linktober 2023 Day 30: Favorite Game Zelda wiped sweat off her brow, pausing their journey when she reached the center of the standing stones. “This is it.” She reached into her pocket, retrieving a small shard of dark glass. “Arbiter’s Grounds.” The shard of glass reflected Zelda’s troubled face. Tags: Twilight Princess References; Angst; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Post-Canon; Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD; Panic Attacks

Sand shifted under his feet, his boots sliding into the dunes as he trudged through the desert. Despite the sapphires embedded in his circlet, the midday sun burned down, reflected back up by amber sand like an oven. Their seals lounged and rolled nearby, tied up to the nearest stone pillar they could find.

Zelda wiped sweat off her brow, pausing their journey when she reached the center of the standing stones. “This is it.” She reached into her pocket, retrieving a small shard of dark glass. “Arbiter’s Grounds.” The shard of glass reflected Zelda’s troubled face.

In the Depths far below their feet, a graveyard stretched to the borders of this abandoned ground. Gibdos staggered around, their insectoid mandibles chittering and gnawing at whatever poor creature got too close. He’d never seen monsters like them before the Upheaval, and he wanted to exterminate them entirely, if he could. They reeked of decaying flesh. The clicking of their skeletal forms and the buzzing of their wings haunted his nightmares.

Not far from that graveyard, just north enough and high enough on a plateau that the gibdos didn’t bother them, the Yiga built another outpost. Like all the others, it didn’t last long before Link caught word of it and sacked the place. But instead of finding a charged crystal, as he had in every other camp, he found a strange mirror-like shard. The note that the Yiga had left offered very few clues as to its origin or purpose. ”Found above the wrath of the executed. Reacted to the talisman of detection, though faintly. Magic of some kind. Will send to Master Kogha when he returns. Glory to Master Kogha.”

The ”wrath of the executed” was clear enough. He’d heard the Yiga refer to the graveyard as such before, though he found the vortex a bit underwhelming. After calling on Riju’s power and shooting a few arrows, the monsters posed little threat. They were just creepy.

The Gerudo told legends about Arbiter’s Grounds. Their histories declared it an ancient prison for Hyrule’s worst criminals, those awaiting death. It was a site of justice. He wasn’t sure what all went on in that prison, but he was quite sure he didn’t want to know. He’d seen enough death in his time. If there were any place where the executed might be wrathful, it would be here.

Zelda held up the shard, turning it in her hands above her head so it caught the light. “What sort of magic do you think this shard possesses?”

The sand shifted with the wind, his boots sinking deeper into the dunes. He scrambled up onto the platform with her, then sat down to shake the sand out of his shoes. “No idea. But if the Yiga wanted it, probably nothing good.”

“The Yiga also wanted the Thunder Helm, and that does a lot of good.” Zelda reminded him. “There’s no telling where they got it from. Probably unearthed during a sandstorm.”

Link shrugged, putting his boots back on. The sun beat down on his back, and he felt the first signs of a proper burn on his exposed neck. The voe armor was supposed to prevent him from dying of heatstroke out here, but perhaps there was a limit to the craftswoman’s skills. He took his canteen off his hip, unscrewing the cap. There wasn’t much left. He took a few careful sips, not enough to satisfy, but enough to keep him going for another hour or two before they needed to head back to town.

Stone pillars and archways rose around him. A shrine had once graced this location, though it, like the others, faded with the Demon King’s death. Had the shrine still stood, they might have saved themselves the trouble of trekking across the desert. Now, the only travel points that remained were those maintained by the Sheikah, and even those had issues. Something changed when the last of the shrines vanished. The towers would go offline more frequently. But, as far as Link was concerned, that was a Purah problem.

Zelda peered into the sand around them, shading her eyes. “If there’s more of these, they’ll no doubt reflect the sun, and we’ll be able to spot them. I imagine that’s how the Yiga found this one.”

How the Yiga managed to do anything was beyond him. They didn’t take the time to really study anything. Link spent hours testing different tools and materials, creating dozens of useful devices. Bridges, carts, boats, gliders, his beloved HoverCycle, so named as the successor to the MasterCycle. That was one he hadn’t yet been able to recreate after losing Ultrahand. He couldn’t get the fans to attach at the right angle. But the Yiga? They had little interest in anything they couldn’t hurt someone with. And so, despite Zelda’s insistence that this shard wasn’t necessarily evil, Link couldn’t shake the feeling that they should be rid of it.

“Oh! Link! Look there!” Zelda exclaimed, pointing just below the nearest pillar. “What is that?”

Link squinted and shaded his eyes. A sparkle of light glinted at him. Dread filled his chest. “Princess-“

His princess, however, seemed not to hear him. She darted off the stone platform, trudging through the sand toward the sparkle. She reached down, digging her fingers into the sand before the shining object had a chance to sink back down. “Aha! Got it!” She announced triumphantly. She held up a second shard, smaller than the first, but undeniably of the same material. “This is exactly what we’re here for! Link, you must see this!”

Rather than waiting for Link to come to her (which he wasn’t going to do anyway), Zelda returned to him. She held the two shards in her hand, each piece no bigger than one of her fingers, the once-sharp edges dulled by countless years of being tossed about in the sand. Had Link not held the first shard himself and determined it smooth, he would have never let Zelda touch it. In her excitement to study something new, she wasn’t exactly the most careful. While he sustained a thousand scars all over, hers were mostly confined to her hands. She refused to wear gloves unless Purah or Robbie explicitly told her to, and even then, she would sneak them off to handle whatever she was working on with her bare hands.

Zelda nearly squealed in delight, pushing the two shards close to each other in her hand. “Oh, this is exciting! You can see a bit of etching here on this one! A bit of a line!” She showed the glass to Link for a moment before picking it up again to hold close to her face, trying to discern the finer details. “I’m quite sure this is a purposeful etching. It’s different than the rubbings along the edges.”

Another glinting in the distance caught Link’s eye. He deliberately turned away. “Zel.“

“Yes?” She blinked down at him, who was still sitting on the stone. “Oh! Oh, yes, my apologies. I didn’t give you a chance to hold them.” She squatted beside him, holding out her hand. “Go on, then!”

Oh, lucky him. Link tried not to grimace as he picked up the shards from her hand. When he brought the first to her, he thought she might know something about it already. She and Purah seemed to know everything about old lore and magic. But when their best surmises came up empty, even with Link’s clue about the Arbiter’s Grounds, Link felt a cold lump form in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t want to believe that anything like the gloom and Upheaval could happen again. He didn’t know if he had it in him to fight Ganon a third time. And though he agreed to accompany her out to Arbiter’s Grounds to continue their research, he couldn’t help but wish that she’d let it alone. He wished he’d never brought it up in the first place. The Yiga would know even less of what to do with the shards than she would.

As the two shards came together in Link’s hand, clinking against one another, a strange spark of pitch darkness flickered at the touch, only for half an instant. And while he may have imagined it, he hoped he imagined it, the strange square of night that sparked in his hand frightened him so much in the depths of his soul that he did the only thing his body could think to do: chuck it.

“Link!” Zelda shouted, jumping to her feet. The shards soared through the air, separating and falling away from each other, quickly covered up by the ever-shifting sands. “What did you do that for?! They’d just produced some kind of reaction! Didn’t you see the-?! The- Link?” Her voice softened, her attention again returning to her knight rather than the arcs of the tossed shards of dark mirror.

His heart slammed against the walls of his chest. His head ached. His breath was ragged. His stomach twisted in knots. Heatstroke. It must be. He was dying of heatstroke out here in the desert. He had to, to get his canteen. If only his fingers would stop fumbling around so much and his hands would stop shaking and he could undo the damn knot that tied his canteen onto his belt and dammit he was going to die out here if he couldn’t-!

Cool skin against his cheek nearly made him jump. Zelda held her canteen up to him, her emerald eyes swimming with worry. His hand met hers, letting her tip cool water into his mouth. He took only a sip. The trembling in his hands and the leadenness of his limbs refused to fade. Though she offered him more, he shook his head. She needed it more. She wasn’t used to traveling in such harsh conditions. He didn’t want her to die too.

“Link, can you look at me?” She asked, capping her canteen back after his third refusal. She set her hand on his cheek. It wasn’t as cool as before. She searched his eyes, his face, feeling his skin with the back of her hand. “The sapphires are working well enough. You’re not too hot.”

He wasn’t? That didn’t make any sense. It all pointed to heatstroke. The trembling, the nausea, the headache, the certainty that he was going to die immediately. Definitely heatstroke.

When Zelda pulled him close to her chest, that felt like the exact opposite treatment for heatstroke. And yet, as the seconds ticked on, and her hold on him grew tighter, his breath began to steady. His heart slowed. The impending doom felt…less certain. But the leadenness remained, as if he’d climbed a mountain in a rainstorm.

“You’re okay.” Zelda whispered, her voice soft against his ear. She rubbed his back slowly. “You’re okay.”

Link closed his eyes, letting his suddenly heavy head fall onto her shoulder. He could fall asleep here, in her arms. Dammit, why was he tired? He hadn’t done anything except chuck those pieces of glass to Goddess-knows-where! That must have been it. Something about the glass shards. Something about the weird darkness. That must have been it. An evil magic that sapped the life out of him and made him seize up and shake and feel like he was about to die. It was the only logical explanation.

Her hold on him didn’t release, still keeping a firm grip up until he started to wiggle free. Zelda held him by the shoulders, the corners of her mouth turned downward. “I am so sorry! I should have asked before giving you those shards.”

Link swallowed hard, shaking his head. “It’s fine. You couldn’t have known they were that powerful.”

Zelda’s brows turned inward. “Link, they weren’t. I saw the darkness too, in my own hand, when I picked them up. It didn’t do anything.” She brushed his bangs out of his face. “You had a panic attack.”

“What?” Link stared at her. “No, that’s impossible. I’m the hero. Heroes don’t panic.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, though she didn’t try to argue with him any further. Instead, she sat down across from him, taking his hands in hers. “You were trying to tell me something about the shards, and I wasn’t listening. What were you going to tell me?”

Alarm bells rang in his head. He wanted to jump up and go get the shards back for her just to escape this conversation, but the exhaustion in his legs refused to agree to such a course of action. The longer she stared at him, waited for him to speak, the guiltier he felt. At last, he forced out an explanation. “I didn’t…want to come here. I didn’t want to get involved with another mystery. I wish I had left the single shard with the Yiga and let them dig around in the sand forever trying to find all the pieces to…whatever that thing is that they all came from.” He paused, taking a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

Zelda squeezed his hands. “No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about the effect that this investigation might have on you. I suppose, from my perspective, the last time we’d gone looking for something evil, it hadn’t turned out too terribly for me. I got thrown into the past, true, but I was safe. It was months before anything scary happened to me. But you,” She rubbed her thumbs over his knuckles. “You had a much different experience, I would guess. I have no idea how you weren’t terrified following me below the castle.”

He swore she’d never know. He promised himself, as long as he lived, she never know when he was scared. But his own body betrayed him, throwing shards of mirror across the desert sands in a desperate effort to get away. He was far, far more than scared. He thought, at any moment, everything might be snatched away.

He squeezed her hands back, watching the shapes she traced on his skin. “I…I was scared. I was terrified, following you beneath the castle. I had all this dread in my gut telling me not to go there, to turn back, to run away. But you were there. I had to protect you and be strong for you. And when you fell-“ His voice cracked. Despite the dehydration, a lump formed in his throat. His headache returned with a vengeance, throbbing against the back of his eyes. “I thought I lost you forever. After having you again, I didn’t know what to do. All I knew was that I had to get you back. I had to go through everything that I did before fighting the Calamity and then some, and all the while, I had no idea if I’d see you again, and I-“ His words ran out, a choking sob cutting him off. He let his head fall against her shoulder again, hiding the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. “I can’t do it again, Zelda! I can’t! Please don’t make me do it again!”

Sobs wracked his body, his breath in heaving gasps as he held on to his princess. Pathetic, weak knight that he was, crying into her shoulder like a child. Shame mixed with fear, his chest shaking as tears streamed down his face, soaking into her blouse. He should apologize for acting this way, for being such a sorry excuse for a knight. A real hero would take on a thousand challenges, and would put his life on the line whenever duty called on him. A real hero wouldn’t cry and beg and plead not to go into battle again.

Zelda held him tight, her body solid, holding him together as he fell apart in her arms. “I had no idea.” She breathed, her lips brushing against his ear. “I’m sorry for bringing you here, Link. And I…I’ll leave the shards here. We can forget about them. Tell Purah we lost them.” She squeezed him as tight as she dared, pressing a kiss against the side of his head even as he cried. “We’ve had more than enough trouble for one lifetime.”

[sailor-toni]

Danny Fenton Football Captain and the East Coast Vampire

Chapter 10: The Obsessive Vampire

You can also read this on A03, FF.net, and Wattpad

The wind whipped around his head, blocking all noise but the hallowing of the wind, pressing itself against his ears. 

CRASH!

Wood shattered against his back like Styrofoam, sending soot and dust into the air around his body. His vision came slowly at first, and the rest of his body followed. His face winced as decay and rot filled the void around him. Grunting Danny twisted his body out of the crater and crawled through the train wreck mansion. His hands landed on a cracked black wooden floor, bearing his weight on the fragile material. His body heaved and throbbed around him. The pain spiking when he moved, his shaking arms pulled him forward on muscles that were as tight as the last threads on string before they broke. 

    His vision was invaded by a strange unearthly light. It blinded him, forcing him to cower under his arms, and wait for his eyes to adjust. Floating above him was the melted woman, the hem of her dress was only a few inches from his head. The threads and burnt ends floated around her legs with an unfeeling wind. The same wind moved her hair, hiding her eyes but revealing her candle-like skin. The bits of skin rolling down her body like melted candle wax.

Plasmius floated through the ceiling, and landed on the wood with a small crack. His whole cape floated around his body like a pair of wings.

“I see you didn’t heed my warning boy,” The melted woman spat at Danny. “I told you he was coming.”

“It is nice to see you too, Maria, are you here to welcome me back,” Plasmius mocked.   

“Yes little brother. I am here to welcome you back home,” Her voice was like an executioner's blade. 

Plasmius was silent. “We both know this hell was never my home.” 

Maria clenched her fist into tight balls, her body floated across the floor like sludge. “After everything you did, that is the first thing you say to me?”

“Yes Maria, because that is the truth,” She was within an arm’s reach of her brother now. “This house was not a home nor was it a sanctuary for me. It was a wooden decaying hell filled with selfish creatures that chose to refer to themselves as family,” 

“Selfish creatures? They were your parents! They were our parents!”

“Parents are supposed to love and support their children. Not use them as replaceable dolls or signs of wealth.” 

“Is that why you killed them?” the next part came out in a whisper. “Is that why you killed me?” 

“No Maria. I killed them because that man would never accept me, nor would he accept what I was becoming. He would rather lock away his own son and try to beat the sickness out of him. And I killed that woman because she cared more about what the neighbors would say than the health or well being of her children,” Maria was retreating. Every step she took he took two more, trapping her between him and Danny. 

“They were just trying to help, in their own way..” her voice was weak. 

“And I killed you because you always took their side. Even in death you protect their actions and pretend I don’t exist until you need something,” His body held no emotions, giving his voice the sharpness it needed to cut her down and the dullness he needed to make her wounds sting. 

“That doesn't mean you can kill them. You could’ve-” 

“No. I was a scapegoat. There was nothing I could've have done that would have let me fall into their good graces. Every time they saw me their faces would twist in disgust and pity, and the insults, the yelling, and the passive aggressive comments would begin. You should know. You were there.  But you didn’t want to admit it. Even when my skin was peeling off and I was begging for death, that man refused to listen to me.” 

“What were we supposed to do after you had the accident? Let you die? We took you back in and -” 

“And what? Took care of me? Save your excuses for the blind or the foolish. You saw your brother writhing in pain from the ecto-Acne, you saw the blood, the puss, and the layers of skin the doctors kept removing only for the boils to return again and again. And you saw how they sound proofed my room so they couldn’t hear my screams anymore. At any point you could’ve been a good sister but you would rather go out with your friends then stay at home.” 

“We didn’t know what to do and you were in pain all the time. For three years we hired maids to change your bed sheets and feed you. What more did you want?”

“I wanted my family to visit me without gagging or insulting how I let myself go . I was bedridden. Of course I gained weight, Maria. But did you care? No! It was just another dagger to twist in.”

“And then you killed everyone,”

“Yes. I killed everyone,” All emotion was gone from his voice. 

“Don’t you feel a little guilty? They raised you.” 

“Stop. This is an argument you can not win. I will not play this gaslighting game.”

“No. I will not let this go. I will never let this go!” Maria screamed. Hedr mouth opened like a hungry furnace. Pink flames build up in her chest like a balloon, the light in her chest bloomed like the center of a nuclear reactor about to blow. 

Plasmius grabbed the roof of her mouth and slammed her into the floorboard below, snuffing out the light a second time. He slammed her against the floorboards again, and again, and again. Her face falling below Danny’s line of sight. Then with little effort and no emotion, he raised her damaged form and threw her across the house. Her body crashed through wall after wall, until Danny could no longer see her. He can only hear the sound of her body crashing through the old master’s mansion. 

Plasmius ran a gloved hand through his hair. 

“Sorry about that Daniel. I would have rather you not seen any of that. But the past has a way of sneaking up on you,” Plasmius said. “I trust you will keep this between us?” 

“You killed your own family?” Danny stuttered the words out. 

“Don’t say it like that. Change the words around to be more positive. I got rid of my only obstacle between me and freedom.” 

“But-” 

Plasmius cut Danny off “I will consider it a blessing that you do not understand what it is like to be abused by your own flesh and blood. To be reduced to an over-emotional disappointment by those closest to you. I was held hostage for two years after your parents caused my accident. And for two years almost nobody but the maids would visit me. My family ran from me and I never saw your parents. I was alone in that room as I suffered a fate worse than death itself.” 

“I’m sorry. That’s horrible.” 

“Yes but after two years my transformation was complete. I could do more than cry and bemoan my existence. I could fly, go through walls, and I could control fire. It was a miracle. But to my family, I had become a monster. Not a son or a victim, but something to be destroyed. They weren’t the only ones. After the fire I tried to go to your parents but at the time I did not know how to return to my human form, and they attacked me. After that I left Amity Park. I mastered my powers, I built an empire up from nothing, and I found a woman who loved me. But no matter how high I climb, the world will never accept me for who we are. We are supermen in a world of paper and yet we are the ones who are punished at every turn.” Plamius’s voice was like a dry bitter cold. “Let me warn you. No matter how many times you save this town they will never accept you, nor will they celebrate what you’ve done for them. For the rest of your life you will be the other.” 

“No! I’m not like you. I have friends who accept me and have been helping me and -” Danny began to slowly push himself up. 

“But for how long? How long will they stand back and help out the social other? Will they still be there when your fangs grow in?” 

“Yes!”

“Will they still be there when the sun begins to burn your skin?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Will your friends still be there when you lose control of your powers and you accidentally injure them?”

“I-'' Danny stammered. “Yeah they-” 

“It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt. And when - not if but when, your powers overreact and your friends get burned by that power. Will they stay by your side or will you turn into another evil ghost?” 

Danny’s arms shook from under him as he pulled his body up. Each connecting muscle felt like lead grating against his skin. “No. My friends will be there for me every time. Even if my parents reject me, and the world turns against me, I will still have them. Because I’m not like you, we're not like you. I’m not alone and I have people who care about me.” Plasmius began to speak but Danny's voice increased in volume. “And I have proof. Because right now Star and Tucker are dismantling the bomb while Kwan and Sam are getting everyone out of the ball room. Safe and sound. Your plan didn’t work because of my friends.” 

“You sound so sure of that,” Plasmius replied, his voice low and hollow. Most of his blue skin and regal white clothing were hidden in the dark shadows of the mansion. The jagged walls from fights and fire split up the moonbeams into rays of light that laid itself upon the struggling teenager. As if it was watching him rise to his knees. 

Silence fell like fallen snow, as their breath was stolen by his small struggles. Rising to his feet the boy’s neon green eyes meet bright pupil-less red ones 

“That is because I am,” Danny said. 

Plasmius' face crackled and creased as his mouth formed a hard grimace. “You are both right and wrong. The person I see before me doesn't reflect a current me but one who was crushed long ago. When I heard there was a good ghost in Amity Park who was trying to save the heathens here I sent my hunter to get rid of someone who would involve themselves in my plans. Then the hunter came back with news of a halfa and I thought I had finally met someone who could understand. It seems I was only half right. This town has not broken you yet,” 

“I’m not like you.” 

“We will see. When they have deserted you, Desiree and I will be waiting.” 

“Hell will freeze over before I go to you.” 

“I will keep in touch Daniel.” Plasmius faded into the shadows, the sound of wings was heard faintly before he left. 

Within the destruction Danny took a deep breath. The late autumn air glazed over his bruised skin like winter’s warning call. Letting him know that a part of his life was over and his choices were made. 

“Maria? Maria, are you still here?” limping, he called to her. 

“I am here,” She responded. Her voice was of teetering glass. 

“Are you-” His question lingered in the still moment. 

“No. I do not think I will ever be okay.”

“I’m sorry” Danny heard a dry boney laugh in response. 

“Do not pity me. If you wish to show me kindness then leave me be.” 

“Okay, but I’ll be back.”

“Do what you must.”

. . . 

Chaos. The front lawn of the old ballroom was full of absolute chaos. Several of the upstairs windows were broken. Many of the evening gowns and dress shoes were stained green and covered in mud, and discarded masks and trash littered the street as the lights of police cars and fire trucks lit up the old glaring statues. 

Danny descended into a bush and allowed the white rings to travel over his body. Returning him to his crumpled up suit and human-like appearance. He crawled out of the bush and began to limp around the crowd, his head bobbing up and down looking for a familiar face amongst the sea of glitter and mud. Vlad and Desiree  stood above it all next to the police chief on the steps of the ballroom. Desiree’s face had a new black eye and sour expression, while Vlad looked tired. Danny ducked under the crowd and weaved himself around the bodies. The noise of angry and troubled phone calls echoed around him. Many complained about how the night had gone, others were trying to direct their ubers around law enforcement. All the noise was creating a sharp headache in Danny’s head. 

A strangled whisper passes by him before his arm is yanked behind a fountain, his body bouncing off the dirt. 

“Hey!” He yelled. 

“Shhh! It’s okay it’s just me Star,” Star’s hair was fastened into a messy bun on top of her head while oil stains covered her hands. 

“God, Star you scared the shit out of me,” Danny cursed. 

“Sorry! I just- where have you been?” 

“Long story. I’ll tell you guys later, but first, where is everyone else? And what happened to the bomb?”  

“Oh Tucker has the bomb. He’s taking it to the dump where he can detonate it under an old fridge. Kwan ran after him cuz, he didn’t want to miss an explosion. They should be back soon. Um I’m here as you can see, and -” 

“Tucker and Kwan are doing what? I thought he said he could turn the bomb off?”

“Oh no he did that. I used some acid I had been saving to melt the lid off and he managed to turn it off, but we couldn’t keep it here or else the cops would've known, so like he and Kwan took it to safety denote somewhere else. That way the evil dude's plan wouldn’t work? I don't really know, it was quite busy and Ticker just said that the evil dude was gonna frame ya parents or something. It wasn’t very clear.”

“Okay. I can explain everything later but where is Sam?” 

“With the cops.” 

“What did she do?!” 

“Don’t yell at me! She pulled the fire alarm and when that lady came to try and stop us, Sam punched her in the face. According to Kwan she was like an action hero. By the way did you know that the lady was a freakin ghost? Omg she turned green and made stuff float, Kwan and Sam did a great job keeping her away while Tucker and I took turns pulling at wires! By the way, I do not want to do that for a living. It was stressful.”

“Which lady?”

“The one that’s next to Mr. Masters. She really is a ghost! I mean she looks good for a ghost. I’m not saying being a ghost makes her ugly I just she turned green and started flying so I assume-”

“I get it Star.”

“But yeahhh- that’s what happened. Sam said not to worry that she had a solid story to back us up, so we should be okay! I don’t know about you though, god you look -” Star reached for Danny but he recoiled. “You don’t look okay.” 

“Um yes and no. I got my ass kicked but I’m not dead.” 

“Oh my god! Who did it! I’ll fight them!”

“Vlad Masters.”

“What? The rich guy? Is he a ghost too? These damn ghosts. No offense Danny but-”

“He’s not a ghost. He’s half ghost like me. Auh,” Danny held his side. 

“He's a what?!”

“Like I said, I'll explain later. Did Valerie make it out okay?” 

“Yes, her Dad picked her up when she couldn’t find you. And everyone one else is okay as well. Here let me get a first aid kit and fix you up,”

“I think I need more than a first aid kit. Here help me find my parents,” Star got up and helped Danny to his feet, letting him put an arm around her and walk him through the crowd. “At least everyone is safe,” Danny mumbled, relieved. 

“Everyone but you man. Oh! By the way, Dash got into a fight with Paulina, but besides that he’s fine.” 

“I’ll deal with that later,” Danny sighed. 

“Man you got a lot of troubles for someone who is half dead,” Star laughed. 

“This is just the tip of the iceberg Star,” 

“Knowing you, it probably is,” Star half joked. 

“Thank’s Star.”

“You’re welcome Danny. You know you can always count on me.” 

Danny’s parents were in the center of the chaos with their ghost equipment adding to the chaos. His wall of a father, was arguing with a firefighter, every work was punctuated with a shake of his Fenton Ghost vacuum. His Mom was the first to notice him, she rushed over and started to examine all of the cuts and bruises on his body. 

“Oh my goodness. Danny, what happened to you?”

“I went to get drinks for Valerie when the fire alarm went off and I got trampled,” 

“Oh no. Okay don’t worry Danny everything is going to be okay. JACK! Jack Fenton!” His mother started yelling. Vlad and Desiree heard the commotion and made their way down to him. 

“My goodness! What happened to you boy?’ Vlad asked. 

“It looks like you got roughed up. Maddie, I think he needs to go to the ambulance, his head is bleeding,” Desiree said, her voice was full of care and concern but at the same time it felt off. 

“Hun? Oh! Danny!” Jack gave the firefighter one last dirty look before running to his son. “What happened boy?”

“I fell over and I think I got trampled,” Danny said. 

“No one tramples Jack Fenton’s son!” His father yelled. 

“Jack! He needs to go to the hospital!” His mother said. 

“Oh yeah! I know that... Let’s go son, before these pigs try anything,” Jack lifted his son like a football and began to run to the nearest ambulance. His large body parted the crowd like the red sea. Inside the ambulance the lights increased his headache pain. Adding to the confusion of the paramedics rushing around him, asking him to squeeze their hands and prodding at his wounds. His Father shoved himself inside, and pressed himself against the back wall. His voice became softer as he tried to talk to his son. “Don’t worry, you got your old man here and I have had more concussions than I can remember. But look. I’m completely fine.”  

    “Sure Dad,” Danny said. 

    “Plus your mother says that I am an expert at keeping folks up at night,” The paramedics laughed at that one. “But I’m not sure if she meant that as a good thing. But, uh you know son.” 

    “Yeah Dad I know,” Danny said. His father continued to babble on, talking about everything and yet nothing at once. His Mother once told him that this was just another sign of his Father’s autism. When things become stressed or difficult his father would talk and talk to try and ease himself and others, and for once Danny didn’t find this to be annoying. He would rather listen to his father ramble on than listen to his own thoughts at the moment. 

[whirling-fangs]

et3rnal-paradise​:

Though he wasn’t going to argue calling their master a lord, especially since the man was pretty much the god of his temple, he found himself still to be dumbfounded by the boy’s ignorance. There was no such thing as a naturally born demon, every single one of them had been human once before the change including their master, but perhaps it was better not to tell the boy such a thing lest he remember his life as a human and destroy himself from the shame of it all.

There were of course some special cases, Douma being one, where knowledge of their humanity had no effect but the fact this boy was so defensive of the fact that Muzan had definitely sent him to Douma then obviously the demon king still wanted him around. If he hadn’t the boy would have been sent out like any other demon to seek out the flower and serve as a distraction for the slayers, Muzan was well aware that of all the demons in his claws Douma had the convenience factor by having his temple.

“You beat Kokushibo? I’d like to see that happen.” He mockingly laughed at the boy; Douma had doubts that even if he combined his powers with Akaza’s that they would get anywhere near upper one’s level. The man was on a totally separate plain than the rest of them and the only one who could so much as match Kokushibo’s strength was Muzan himself. “Asking to fight him is like signing a death sentence, it doesn’t surprise me that you wouldn’t know being a newborn and all but Koku has a habit of consuming the demons he defeats.” Aside from Akaza, but that was hardly necessary to verbalize. “Master doesn’t even care when Koku does that so being in his graces when your fighting Koku means absolutely nothing.” Perhaps he didn’t know all of Kokushibo’s skills, or all of what the man was capable of but even Douma was smart enough not to challenge the man without some sort of trump card.

“Not to mention that if master wanted me gone he would have done it himself or had Koku do it and not sent some scrawny newborn with a bad attitude to tend to me.” Even still he did have to admit to himself that this was a little strange, since when was the training of another demon a mission? Sure, he trained Daki and Gyutaro, but that was a choice of his own making.

Watching the boy’s arms move in odd ways he held his clearly unimpressed scowl, this was already becoming obnoxious to him he thought as he used his immense speed to appear directly behind the boy. “You’re rather slow to take on me, lacking speed doesn’t bode beneficial for you beating any of the kizuki you know.” He stated pressing his razor-sharp fan against the boys back.

“If you can’t even keep up with a hashira you’re nothing but another failure in the end. Just like those ridiculous lower six.”

It was a leitmotiv of this young creature’s life, to be unaware of where he really came from. History liked to repeat itself, and Kiba’s denial about his own origins was just another proof of it.

He took great pride in earning the Lord’s favors, though he would only boast about it to the right people. Lower demons didn’t need to know. If they trampled over his territory, they were going down. It was a simple law of nature.

“Koku this, Koku that... Enough about that guy already! You think I’ve never eaten another demon before? Think again, dumbass! Every weakling that’s tried to take me down has become a stepping stone for me! I’ve trampled all over their existences, and turned them into strength for me to use!”

Kiba did pick up on the demon’s sudden motion, but he was too slow to properly react. He swung his arm back, twisting it at an impossible angle, the serrated blade protruding from his forearm almost sinking into Douma’s side. Emerals eyes glared up at the demon, irises thin as slits, a wild beast’s anger.

“I can become faster. Every human I eat, every slayer I fight and devour makes me stronger. And if I fight you, I’ll improve even more! I’ll do more than keep up with the Hashira! I’ll destroy them!”

[ur-favorite-queer-queen]

Protect

For Maribat March day 18 theme protect 

Master List 

“DEAREST BIG BROTHER! I’M HOME!” A female shout came from the foyer of the manor. 

Dick, Jason, Tim, Babs, Steph, and Cass were hanging out in one of the many rooms the manor held. Alfred had just walked in with a tray of drinks but froze at the sound of the voice.

“THE HECK!” Was shouted by the same voice followed by Damian’s voice shouting, 

“WHO ARE YOU!?!?! HOW DID YOU GET IN!?!?!” 

Alfred was out of the room in an instant. He was not sprinting but he might as well be with how fast he was walking. The batkids immediately followed after him. 

They walked in on a sight none of them will ever forget. Literally, Jason had taken a picture. A strange woman who looked like a female, miniature version of Bruce had Damian’s precious katana and seemed to be taunting him with it. 

“Miss Marinette!” Alfred called and got both the woman’s and Damian’s attention. 

“Alfred!” The woman replied, running over and giving him a hug, katana still in her hand. 

“Wait, Aunt Nettie?” Dick spoke up, walking over to the pair. 

“Little Wing! Wow, you got so much bigger since the last time I saw you.” She responded, giving him a hug. 

“Wait, wait, your Aunt Nettie?” Jason asked, crossing his arms. 

“Aww, Little Blue Jay, you don’t remember me?” She shot back, crossing her arms as well. 

“Blue Jay, why is that familiar?” Jason muttered to himself, not quietly enough since everyone heard him. 

“Aunt Nettie, you only visited once when he was here.” Dick reminded her. 

“Oh, well that will explain that. Also how many more kids did Bruce adopt? I thought it was only the 2 of you, the Drake kid, and his bio kid.” She questioned, motioning to each child she remembered. 

“The only other kid he adopted is Cass, Steph and Babs are family friends.” Dick clarified. 

“Babs, the first Batgirl correct?” She asked, turning to the girl in question. Everyone froze at that, this girl who was apparently Bruce’s sister knew who they were.

“It’s fine guys, she’s known since the beginning of his time as Batman.” Dick assured. 

“Yep, speaking of my big brother, where is he?” 

“Master Bruce is currently at a WE meeting, but he will be back in time for dinner.” Alfred answered for her. 

“How come father never told us about you?” Damian voiced, glaring at her and looking like he wanted to attack her again. Probably because she still had his katana. 

“I rarely visit nowadays and he’s probably still upset after last time.” Marinette smirked, like she had won some sort of battle. Noticing she still had his katana, she handed the blade back to Damian. 

“Last time?” Tim hesitantly echoed. 

“How about Miss Marinette shares the story in the living room? I can bring snacks.” Alfred offered, Marinette looked like she was about to say something but Alfred beat her to it, “You bond with your nieces and nephews, I will be fine.” 

“Come on Marinette! You can tell them about how you helped train Bruce! Oh did you bring any kwamis with you?” Dick rambled, pulling Marinette with him into the room they were hanging out in before her appearance. 

Once they were all seated Tim started the conversation, “So I’m not hallucinating, you are actually Bruce’s sister.” 

“Yes, Bruce is 3 years older than me. I know that he is Batman and you guys are the bats and the birds.” She calmly responded. 

“What did Dick mean by you helped train Bruce? And what is a Kwami?” Babs continued. 

“Kwami are basically magical beings, kinda like gods, that are bound to jewels called miraculous. Since I’m the guardian I protect these jewels. I trained Bruce by helping my old mentor from Tibet train him.” Marinette explained. 

“What happened last time? And why don’t you visit often?” Damian asked, carefully hidden curiosity in his eyes. 

“Back in my first year of highschool, Bruce was very protective of me. Like very protective. No boy he didn’t approve of, which meant I could never talk to a single boy, could get within 10 feet of me without him present. Asking me out, out of the question. Pretty sure this one guy, Adam, wanted to ask me out but Bruce interrupted before he could. I never talked to him again after that. I got pretty tired of it so I signed up for the foreign exchange program and went to school in Paris.” 

“Wait,” Steph interrupted, “Bruce was an overprotective brother?” 

“One of the worst kinds. I’m sure if our parents were still alive he might’ve been worse than my dad.”

“What importance does this have to the questions?” Damian sneered, annoyed that he wasn’t getting any answers. 

“Hold on I’m getting there. So anyways it was in my sophomore year of highschool at Paris that a supervillain attacked. He called himself Hawkmoth, he used the butterfly miraculous to transform people into his puppets by using their emotions against them. I didn’t think much of it since it didn’t concern me, my host family agreed thinking it wouldn’t last long. But when I got to my room there was a little box sitting on my desk and that’s where I found the ladybug miraculous. The most powerful miraculous besides the cat miraculous. I told Bruce, he wasn’t too happy about it, but there wasn’t much he could do. So much happened in that amount of time that I don’t think I could summarize it all before Bruce gets back but just know that in that span of time I met the current guardian. Hawkmoth gained an ally who used the peacock miraculous, Mayura. Also a miraculous that could manipulate emotions. 

After I and my partner had defeated Hawkmoth and Mayura, sometime during my senior year, we revealed our identities, dated for a few months before I ended things. Then I went back home and Bruce was getting ready to go on his soul-searching journey to be trained by masters or whatever and I suggested he be trained by my mentor who was in Tibet. I went with him, we trained for a couple of months before he left. I decided to stay in Tibet to train to become the next guardian. Eventually my mentor died and gave me guardianship. 

Then I returned to Gotham and Bruce had adopted Little Wing over there. So I stayed here for a while before I decided to go around the world doing guardian things. Bruce didn’t like the idea but there wasn’t much he could do. I ended up catching up with an old friend of mine on one of my travels and we started dating before I came back here. That’s when I met Little Blue Jay for the first and last time.

Before you guys had gone on patrol I tried to ask Bruce to give my boyfriend a chance but he didn’t agree. I’ve always been his little sister in his eyes, I think he couldn’t handle the fact I had grown up. Nasty words were exchanged between us and I haven’t returned since. In the end me and him didn’t work out but I couldn’t bring myself to return, until now at least.” 

“Why now?” Damian immediately pressed once she finished her explanation. 

“Dusuu was missing Alfred. It has been like a decade or something.” She remarked, pulling out a peacock shaped brooch. 

“Didn’t you say that the peacock miraculous was evil?” Cass signed, raising an eyebrow at the brooch. 

“No, I said it was used for evil. The miraculous are technically neutral, can be used for good or evil. Depends on who is wielding them.” Marinette bit back, as a flash of light emitted from the brooch. Suddenly a small floating peacock creature stood in front of Marinette. 

“Is that a kwami?” Steph asked. 

“Yes, this is Dusuu, the peacock kwami of emotions.”

“Hello! It’s so nice to meet you!” Dusuu chirped, “Where’s Alfred?” 

“I am right here Dusuu. It is lovely to see you again.” Alfred spoke from the doorway, holding a tray of snacks and drinks. 

“Alfred!” Dusuu cheered before flying over and hugging the older man. 

“In all honesty Bruce doesn’t sound like the best brother.” Jason pointed out. 

“I know it may seem like he’s a shitty brother, and at the time I totally thought he was and still is, but I know where he’s coming from. Bruce was always the more reserved and protective out of the 2 of us even before what happened to our parents. I think our parents' death solidified his need to protect me from anything and anyone. And we all know how horrible Bruce is at showing his emotions so I know his heart was in the right place. Plus, we’ve had years to cool off, I’m sure we can have a mature conversation now.” Marinette explained, a fond smile gracing her lips. 

Faintly in the distance they heard Alfred say, “Welcome home, Master Bruce.” 

“That’s my cue!” Marinette said before bolting off in the direction of the foyer. 

“Alfred something’s off, what are you not telling me?” The second those words left his mouth a weight connected with his back, arms wrapped around his neck and a familiar, 

“HEY BIG BRO!” Was registered by his ears. 

The weight slipped off his back and as he turned around he was met with the familiar sight of his little sister. “Marinette.” 

“Bruce.”

“You’re here.” 

“I am.” 

“I thought-”

“That I was mad at you.”

“You didn’t visit for 10 years.” 

“Life got busy.” 

They stood in silence for a minute. 

“I missed you.” Marinette whispered, so much different from the girl that was telling them a brief summary of her life. She seemed so much more vulnerable uttering those words than when she had revealed why she hadn’t come back in the first place. 

Turns out that was the straw that broke the camel’s back as Bruce wrapped Marinette in a hug as tears slipped from his eyes. They could hear him whispering over and over again, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did all those years ago.” 

It was weird for them all to see, including Dick who knew how much Marinette meant to Bruce. Bruce kept his emotions so closed up, master of the stoic face, but here he was breaking down in front of the all. Here he was crying and apologizing. 

“I believe we should leave them alone for now.” Alfred spoke up heading for the dining room. They followed. Later Bruce and Marinette would join them, a little red-eyed with their cheeks tear-stained, but small smiles on their faces. 

It was then that all the batkids knew that they would be seeing this ‘Aunt Nettie’ much more often. 

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

Look at that, I’m super late again! Nothing new, I think day 14 was a one time thing unfortunately. 

I’ve seen a ton of fics where Marinette was Bruce’s older sister but what about where she’s his younger sister? Bruce would so be an overprotective older brother. 

I hoped you enjoyed this! I’m planning on making a part 2 of this for ‘contest’. So stay tuned!

@maribatmarch-2k21 

[giorno-plays-piano]

Superstitions and Curses

Pairing: mummy!Bucky Barnes x archaeologist!Reader

Warnings: slight dubcon, obsessive and soft!dark!Bucky, mentions of torture and being buried alive.

Words: 2163.

Summary: It wasn't your first expedition, but pretty much the first time when you had helped to bring an ancient being back from the dead.

P.S. Huge thanks to dear @navegandoaciegas who helped me get inspired again <3

_______________

"Please, let me in."

You clenched the amulet in your hands, nervously staring at the door of a hotel room and hoping he wouldn't enter. Despite the fact that you were an archeologist, a woman who believed in nothing but science, you were ready to pray to all the gods if it would help to keep this creature away.

"I mean no harm to you." His husky, dangerously low voice made you lick your lips as you thought of all the things he whispered in your ear the other night. "Didn't you like the way I treat you, love?"

"It was a spell you put on me!" You furrowed your brows, making a step away from the door and bumping into a nightstand with a loud thud - the bottle of water in top of it fell down to the floor.

"A spell?" The man behind the door chuckled, and you could hear him breathing out loudly as he peered through the crack in the door, his hands pressed against the dark wood. "You know I haven't done anything of this kind. What you felt was the chemistry between us, don't deny it."

It was true. That night when all you wanted was to forget the events of the last couple of days, forget all about the whole reason why you came to this ancient country, you rushed to a bar to get drunk like a fish, hoping the next morning once you'd wake up, it would all be a bad dream and nothing more. That's where you met him, the man who you had seen laying in his grave just a couple of hours before. Of course, you didn't know it was him - he looked like any other man, enough flesh on his bones not to cause any suspicion.

Oh, but it was him. He had followed you in that bar, pretending to be a stranger eager to know you; fooling you, he soon slipped into your room where he made love to you, completely drunk and fallen under his charms. How stupid you were, trusting a complete stranger after what had happened that day.

It was several hours after when you woke up in the night, and the moonlight coming from the window lit the room a little: as you stared at the man sleeping soundly next to you, you saw the ancient symbols on his chest.

The next minute you were out of your room, hoping he wouldn't wake up in the next hour. It would give you enough time to reach the railway station.

Why was he following you? You could understand his reasons since you had pretty much broken his tomb and opened his grave, but why on Earth did he sleep with you? Why didn't he kill you? Was it some kind of a ritual? Despite the fact that you were specializing on local customs and traditions, you have never heard of anything of that kind.

"You can't get rid of me." He murmured behind the door, and you sensed something wicked, resentful in his voice.

"Why can't I? What do you want from me?" You asked on the verge of tears, your arms trembling - you very much doubted the amulet you were holding was of any use to you.

"Shhhh." He cooed softly, feeling you fear and somewhat content with it. "I promise I won't hurt you. Let me in, love. Let me in."

For a couple of seconds you froze, listening to the man breathing softly behind the door. Strangely, you could almost hear his heart beating in his chest as if he really were human, not a rotten corpse you saw in the coffin a couple of days ago. The night you spent together you felt like he was the most tender and affectionate man you had ever met. Why did he do it? What was his purpose? Why were you opening the door for him when he ordered you to do it with that hypnotic voice of his?

You realized he had entered your room once he touched your cheek with his hand, rough fingers brushing against your wet skin. Oh, apparently, you were crying.

"I know it is beyond your comprehension, but please trust me, My Immortal Beloved." He made a step forward as you shriveled and slinked back, staring at his perfectly blue eyes adorned with black kohl. "Do not be scared. Even though it seems horrifyingly wrong to you, things are exactly as they were meant to be."

Despite the fact you had a thousand questions inside your head, the words were stuck in your throat. You couldn't even scream, asking for help. Besides, it would be pretty worthless, wouldn't it? No one could protect you from someone who rose from the dead.

"You were meant to open my tomb and set me free. You were meant to resurrect my body and let my soul return to it."

When you reached the wall, your back pressed to it as if you wanted to slip through the stone, the man had inched closer to you and lowered his hand on your chest, the other one right in front of your face as he moved his hand, drawing a circle in the air with his palm. I see you. You are important to me, a sign of both trust and affection - you had seen it so many times on ancient drawings it was imprinted on your brain.

What? Why was he doing it? Why it was you who set him free? You were just one of a whole team of archaeologists and wage earners. You did nothing special, nothing that differentiated you from others - you weren't the one who physically opened it nor did you read any ancient spells locals were so superstitious about. You were as much in shock as all others when the mummy had suddenly disappeared from the tomb.

At first, even though most of you were people of science, all of you thought of ancient curses and all those archaeologists who had supposedly died from it. Then, when you came to your senses, you thought of the thieves who might had taken the mummy. But then again, although it were the remains of someone very, very important, no treasures were buried with him - apparently, this person had done something terrible when he was alive, especially remembering the curses written on the walls. So why steal just the corpse, then? Without decent care, the bones would crack within minutes of carrying them. Why would thieves want the mummy?

"I want to come back home." You whispered, shivering and averting your eyes.

"I will bring you whenever you want once you swear loyalty to me, love."

You blinked as you stared at his tanned face, symbols painted with gold shining on his temples. It was getting more and more insane with every passing minute.

"Why would I swear loyalty to you?"

"Because I am your Sun, Moon and the Stars in between."

The silence felt heavy, suffocating as you kept looking at the man, not knowing what to say. He was right - you didn't understand a thing. You didn't even know who he was and why you swearing loyalty to him seemed so important so this stranger. The only thing you knew for sure was that he was dangerous, far more dangerous than any other human being - you felt it in your bones.

"Before I d-do that, may I know your name?" You wanted to add something like "Your Majesty", but you had no idea what kind of title the man once had - that is, if he had any at all.

He chuckled, "It would be hard for you to pronounce. But you can call me James, it is the closest you can get."

A part of you was offended - for heaven's sake, you were specializing on this exact area and surely knew how to pronounce ancient names - but the other part of you now wondered how come this being knew a real English name and could actually speak modern language. Surely, he was at least a thousand years old. How come?..

"Why were you buried so disrespectfully?" You started questioning him out loud, furrowing your brows. "This is not my first expedition, but I have never seen a tomb like yours before. No treasures, no name, nothing that could identify you at all."

"The Witch-king, that's how they called me." His handsome face darkened, and the man took a step away, turning his back to you. "The one who had surpassed his high priest and could read the Book of the Dead. Once my chancellors learnt about me practicing the magic of the ancient, they made my priests spread the word to my people, and I have been overthrown. They have tortured me, blinded me, cut off my limbs, and then sealed me away in the tomb when I was still alive. Because of their fear of me and my powers, they condemned me to the worst of fates, and broke the line of kings."

As he kept speaking, his dark long robe fell down to the floor, opening his half-naked tan body to you: you saw two deep scars on his shoulders that still looked raw, horrifying you - the man was telling you the truth. He had been dismembered.

"They have cursed me to stay neither truly dead nor alive till one day somebody would open my tomb and set me free. They have kept the location of my grave a secret, thinking no one would ever discover it in the sand, but they all were wrong. I will suffer no more in that place where not a single ray of light had shone over two thousands of years."

Your head was spinning from all this, and you quietly slid to the floor, your hands in your hair as you tugged on the roots in frustration and fear. For the love of God, was it all true? Did you help resurrect the ancient being that could use some scary black magic and probably kill lots of innocent people? Did he want to drag you along with him once you swear loyalty to him? If you didn't, would he actually murder you?

"But this is of no importance now." The man turned back to you and, suddenly seeing you on the floor, hurried to gently pick you up and place you on a spacious bed, watching you with worry. "I am sorry for I have frightened you, love. I swear this was not my intention."

You had troubles understanding what his intention was, but you kept silent, too scaried to say something to him. You had a dozen thoughts what a creature like him would want to do to people for all his suffering.

You should have left that damn tomb alone when your team found twice more death traps than in any other grave. You read the curses left on the walls, but they only fueled your interest. Of course, you had never been superstitious in your entire life, so you simply disregarded all the signs that now seemed so clear you were ready to slap yourself.

"Why am I important?" You asked in a shaky voice, your eyes trailing down his chest with ancient symbols tattooed on it. "Why spending a night with me? I am just a woman. I have opened the tomb, but I was one of many."

"No, you are special. You won't understand now, not yet, but think of it as your destiny. Your fate is bound to mine."

As he inched closer to you, you finally realized you were almost in bed with a half-naked handsome man resurrected from the dead. Immediately crawling back, your stared at him wide-eyed. No, no, no, whoever he was and whatever he thought your fate was, you didn't want him in your bed the second time! Well, almost. Maybe you wanted a little bit. Just a little.

"S-so, are you going to destroy the country and claim your kingdom again?"

Your words made him laugh as he bared his perfectly white teeth while touching the side of your face.

"Two thousand years were enough to change my priorities. Ruling the world of humans who know nothing of magic isn't interesting to me anymore."

"I see. That's a relief." You murmured, still very uncomfortable with him being so close to you. "Please, can I just leave? There are millions of women, I'm sure you'll find someone more attractive to be your... your concubine."

_____________

"Concubine? I did not have a concubine, and neither did my ancestors." The man tilted his head to the side, looking at you surprised as you were ready to bite yourself for your own stupidity: of course, the rulers of these lands only started having concubines in the fourth dynasty and onwards, James was definitely either from the first or second one. "I can't let you leave, love. You will have to come with me."

Part 2

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @iheartsebastianstan @ninefuckingoneone

[ashintheairlikesnow]

writing request for whenever: Laken and Chris go to a dinosaur museum/exhibit

CW: Referenced past pet whump, mentioned negative stimming resulting in self-injury, pet whump (different character) with intimate whumper, grief, referenced parental death, trauma response, brief reference to true crime

Timeline: Chris is 25 years old in this piece

Rafael (Raf) first appears, unnamed, in this drabble from Chris’s early college days

Laken’s hand is warm in his, their fingers intertwined, as they stand underneath the hanging bones of an enormous ancient thing like a whale but entirely unlike it, too. Chris closes his eyes, swaying lightly side to side, humming softly as he imagines it, rows of teeth with some as big as his hand, moving through oceans older than anything he can imagine, chasing down prey.

The sun shines in through the all-glass windows that make up the other side of the atrium, warming against his shirt without prickling his skin. The lights are far up and away, and the sunlight is stronger. 

“Wow,” Laken murmurs, and he glances over at them to see their chin tipped back, liquid dark eyes focused on the recreated bones not so far above their head. “I’ve never been here before. Have you?”

Chris feels the hint of pain at the question, and for once it’s not in his head from memories but simply the aftermath of what he knows. “Yeah,” He answers, voice low and soft. “With my, my dad and mom. Long, um, a, a long time ago.”

Laken’s expression shifts, too, and they wince. “Sorry. I didn’t think about-”

“No,” Chris says, insists really, giving their hand a squeeze. They squeeze back, looking him over with the face they make when they’re reading his expression. He knows it’s going to happen for a while - the cut across his forehead is still bright and obvious against pale skin, although the one on his cheek is nearly healed up and gone. They’re searching, now, for signs it’ll happen again - that he’ll pull back into his head again, maybe take longer to come back out this time.

It’s-... it’s funny, now that he has the memories, he can remember his mother worrying over it, too. And his father’s soft reminders that the worry wouldn’t fix him, because fixing wasn’t what needed done.

It’s funny. To have been told no one loved him, and that was why he had to be remade into a pet, a sort of breathing toy, only to have it all break through with the constant reminders of what a fucking lie that had been.

He’s been reading about people who were kidnapped, lately. Staying up with Wikipedia open on his phone finding names and faces. The girl in Utah, the ones in Ohio, the boy in Nevada, that guy from the famous billionaire logging family who disappeared in California... all of them say, they told us we weren’t wanted by anyone else, for anything else. After a while, we believed them. What else could we do?

It’s... soothing, almost. They weren’t drugged to make it happen, but it did, anyway. It wasn’t Chris’s fault - there was no way he could have kept himself. 

But getting all of it back came at the cost of scaring everyone who loves him now, leaving them all worried he’ll hurt himself again.

He doesn’t think there’s anything else in there that can hurt any more than what’s already come out from behind the flat, cold white light in his mind. But they’re not certain.

“Don’t worry,” Chris says, tilting his head and giving them a smile. “I’m, I’m, I’m okay, Laken. I promise. I, I, I, I-I-I like thinking ab, about them now.”

“Well... good. Okay. Just, let me know if I cross a line, okay?” 

“I, I will.” 

Laken gives his hand another squeeze and steps away to read a freestanding plaque below the bones of the belly of the creature over their heads. Chris picks up the feather necklace he’s always wearing, moving himself over to look outside, at the brilliant green lawn, the landscaping studded with blooming tulips along the walkway. There are plastic sculptures of dinosaurs out there, and Chris watches a little girl in a dinosaur-themed dress and leggings clamber up on one, giggling as she sits on the triceratops like she’s riding it and her father looks on, amused, nearby. 

The world feels strange and thin, for just a moment. He feels like he’s on the other side of a wall, and if he took a hammer to it he could step through and see himself, small and gangly and young, his mother nearby with a giant purse full of all the things he might need, her jaw set and ready to fight a battle on his behalf. One she didn’t always have to fight - but she was ready for it, anyway.

His eyes roam the green area outside, scanning, looking over every child, every parent, every friend. He’s looking for her, he realizes, his hand squeezing tight around the plastic feather, rubbing his thumb hard over the vanes. He’s looking to see if she’ll be there, ten years after she was gone. 

If all he’ll have to do is look hard enough, and she won’t be dead, she’ll be here, ready to load Tristan into the car to get his chicken nugget kids’ meal and go home.

If he only looks hard enough-

“What’s this one, sir?” The voice is soft, sweetly charming, and sends a chill up Chris’s spine with its perfect familiarity. Not that he’s ever heard this voice before - but he knows the tone, the way of rounding your mouth around each syllable, the subtle flirtation built into each word.

His heart stops beating - and then starts again, as he slowly turns to look over his shoulder.

Laken is across the room, now, off to one side. He can see their black hair, the way they stand with one hip slightly out is as familiar to him as his own skin. The soft blue sweater they’re wearing over black jeans and boots is his, they pulled it on this morning with a laugh when he said it looked better on them. He’s wearing one of their shirts over his compression shirt, fair’s fair, sweetheart, you get mine if I get yours. They’d laughed and said he looked so good in t-shirts for bands he never listened to. They’d both laughed.

Between him and his partner, though, is a couple - an older man with a much younger one. It’s the younger man who spoke.

The older man has a hand at the small of the younger man’s back, casually possessive, but it’s the black leather collar worn openly around the young man’s neck that catches Chris’s breath. He can almost feel the constriction around his own throat. Can almost feel the breath against the back of his neck as it’s buckled there, safe and sound, the collar means-

The collar-

The older man frowns, looking up at a large predator skeleton, then down at the plaque in front of it. “ Ac-... Arcanthosaurus,” He says, confidently mispronouncing the name. Chris knows how to say it. He knows exactly what it is. He could say everything on that plaque without looking. Therpopod, Early Cretaceous, fossils found primarily in Oklahoma, Texas, and... somewhere else, Colorado or Wyoming. He could describe its habitat, its likely diet, what its life looked like from birth to death.

The man says the name wrong, and his pretty pet, illiterate and dependent on him for every scrap of knowledge, doesn’t know any better. He only smiles and says, “That’s a pretty name.” He sounds satisfied.

But Chris sees his dark eyes flicker to the plaque and away, the curiosity quickly stifled and shoved down. He’s seen Kauri do the same thing, force himself into safe ignorance to avoid asking too many questions. He’s seen himself do it. He’s seen them all do it, if they weren’t allowed to read, to know, to ask, to think.

The younger man, Chris’s own age, has close-cropped black hair and wears a black shirt and pants clearly tailored to skim, to fit tightly without being indecent. To be a show of wealth without being ostentatious. That’s when it clicks - he’s seen the pet before, in a cafe with his friends. 

The younger man must feel someone looking at him, because for just a moment, his head turns and he looks right at Chris. Their eyes meet, and Chris knows the man recognizes - if not him, then what he was, what he used to be - in a second.

The pet mouths, hi, and tries for a slight smile. He lifts one hand, just a little, and his fingers move in a slight wave.

And Chris had pretended not to see, hunched down in his seat with his heart racing until the two were gone. What were the odds he’d see the same one again? What were the fucking odds, he’d get to be a coward again, to hide from his own life. What were he odds he’d see one here?

Chris had forgotten the museums are all pet-friendly if you call ahead. So many of the places he goes now aren’t. 

Suddenly, he wants to leave, to never come back, not to let the reality of his life intrude on the moment where he’d been so, so close to the memory of his mother, had nearly seen her on the grass. 

“Stay here, Raf, I’m going to step over to the water fountain.” The older man kisses the younger man’s cheek, and they smile at each other, but Chris knows a pet’s smile when he sees one. He’s made the same expression, again and again, felt the snap of white-hot pain on his back or his hands whenever it wasn’t believable enough for the handler staring down at him.

The older man walks away.

For the second time, Chris is faced with the same pet standing alone in a room of people, the two of them know each other in a way no one else here ever could, not really, not without losing it all, too.

He takes a breath.

Raf - the pet - turns to look out the window at the sunlight, and for the second time in his life, Chris meets eyes with a stranger who is, in many ways, exactly like him. 

The pet maybe doesn’t recognize him - without his long hair, and they only saw each other once - but he recognizes something, because his expression changes. Chris isn’t the only one staring - there are children asking soft questions in stage-whispers who are admonished by their parents, older kids staring openly in silence, two adults who see Raf and just as quickly leave the room. 

In a wide, round room full of people, Raf is utterly isolated from all of them, from anyone but the man who keeps him. Chris knows the feeling.

He tells himself to move. All that happens is that he pulls on the feather necklace so hard the cord snaps, comes free, and he stares down at it, before slowly raising his eyes again.

The pet gives him a faint, sad smile.

He mouths, hi.

It’s a circle. 

Somewhere just behind him, he feels the warmth of her, a hand around his shoulder. His eyes blur with tears. She’s so close, here. With the world she brought him out into comes all his memories of her, crowding in on him. Kisses to his forehead, a hand to check for a fever, arms around him to block out the heavy weight and shrieking noise of a hungry world with its jaws open to hurt him.

He can feel her hands on either side of his face, leaning her forehead to his, whispering, you’re okay, Tris, we’re going to get out of here and somewhere quiet, you’re okay. Just hold onto me. 

Just hold on.

She’s so close.

He can hear her, feel her. If he could just move the right way, she wouldn’t be dead at all. If he could just undo everything, if he could fix his mistakes, if he could stay still in the closet and hide just right, if he does it just right nobody has to die and he doesn’t have to lose them and no one has to die-

One step, and then another. His mother’s voice, not forgotten, although blurred by time and loss. That’s how we start, Tris. One step, and then another. You can do this. I’m right here if you need me, but listen - you won’t. You’ve got this, baby. They’re going to love you, all those kids in there.

How, how, how, how, how can you, what if they, they don’t-

They will. 

But-

One step, Tris, and then another. We’ve done it all that way, and we’ll do this that way, too.

He looks back at the green grass outside, the courtyard with the playing children and watching parents, the faint sounds of their happiness through the glass. Her hand is at his back, and Chris takes one step, and then another. His heart is in his throat, his hands shaking, his stomach is twisted in knots and a cold brick of ice inside him. 

One step, and then another. 

She’s so close, and if he does this just right, she’ll find him and take him home. 

No.

She’s already here, no matter where he goes. Home is Jake, and Laken, and Antoni, and Kauri, and Nat. Home isn’t a place, it’s people, and he’s his mother’s home, now, the place where she lives after she’s gone.

He closes the distance between them, and stops next to the pet, holding the broken feather necklace in his hand still. The weight of the sun on his back is warm, and not too heavy. 

They stand next to each other, and he looks just to the side of the pet’s eyes, focused on something else, to avoid the way looking right at him would overwhelm, be too much to take. 

“You were one,” Raf says, in a low voice, sounding stunned. “But you’re not... not now.” 

Chris inhales, slowly. His body screams at him to run, to move, and his mind demands he be silent, be still. Instead, he rocks, forward and back, feels the air move around him. Reminds himself he could do - could be - anything with his body that he wants to, now.

And maybe this pet can, too.

“I, I, I named myself, um, Chris,” He whispers, hoarsely. 

“He calls me Rafael,” The pet replies, and his eyes move over Chris’s face. There’s an expression Chris can’t read well there, a subtle desperate want, but expressions are hard for Chris and right now the static crackling in his mind, the trains of his thought careening wildly around each other, make it even harder. “I would have liked to name myself.”

One step, his mother says, urging him into the gym, where some other kids are already doing backflips and tumbling on mats. One step and then another.

“You can... can do that. If you, um, if, if, if you-you... run.”

“I-... I couldn’t do that.” The pet looks off to the side, but his owner is still in the bathroom. There’s fear in his voice - that Chris can read without trying. Fear, he knows so well. “Where would I go?”

Chris manages a faint, thin smile. He wants to shake apart. He settles for holding out the feather. “Home,” He whispers.

Come on, Tris. You can do this. I believe in you.

“Home is-”

“Home is, is, isn’t this. It isn’t-... it, it, it isn’t him. It’s not an, any of, of, of of of them.” 

“But-”

“5-5-5,” Chris says softly. Sweat sticks his compression shirt to his back, cold trickles down the back of his neck. His heart pounds so hard his lungs have no room for air, his voice is breathless, barely even a whisper, now. “7-2-3-3. They’ll, they’ll help you. Call them.”

Rafael looks down at the feather, and slowly takes the soft purple silicone into his hand, rubbing his fingers over the carved plastic, then looks back up. “I love him,” He says, softly. “I was-”

“Made for, for him,” Chris finishes, not wanting to hear it in the other pet’s voice. Hating the idea that they both know every single phrase by heart, forever, and they can’t undo that. “But... I was, was, was, too. And I’m not, now.”

Rafael slides the feather into his back pocket, looking to the side, at the pristine, cloudless blue sky visible above the courtyard through the thick glass. “5-5-5,” He says, softly, “7-2-3-3.”

“Call,” Chris says, his voice failing him as his fear keeps rising. He has to swallow and steady himself to speak again. “Someone... somebody, somebody l-loved you.”

“But-”

“They, they, they lied to us.” It feels so weird to say it out loud, but he does. He can’t stop himself. “They lie to, to, to to-... to-to... to us all. Someone, somebody loved you.”

He has to go, he can’t be still a second longer, and he walks away without waiting for a response. His timing is perfect - he steps up to Laken just as the pet’s owner comes back from the restroom, sweeping past Chris - pretty but scarred, nothing special, please god don’t look at me - and moving back to Rafael, who smiles up at him with the same perfect, pristine affection Chris has seen in himself and in Kauri and in every single one of the ones like them.

Practiced at the edge of a knife, the lash of a whip, the crack of a cane, until they can turn it on and off on command, at will, whenever they need the smile to keep themselves safe.

Laken turns to him as he stops next to them, looking him over, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “You okay? Oh, hey, your feather’s gone. What happened?”

He allows himself a glance over his shoulder, sees the pet and his owner moving to another room, walking together. The hand at the small of Rafael’s back.

The broken cords from the necklace just barely visible sticking out of his pocket before Chris watches him push them further in to hide them.

“I, I, I gave it to, um, to someone,” He says, turning back to them, leaning over to kiss their cheek, barely a brush. “I, I, I need to go outside. The, um, the everything... can, can we, um, can we go-”

“Yeah, sure. No problem. Do we need to, like, go go, or...”

“No.” Chris looks up at the dinosaur Rafael had been looking at. “Oh, I, I, forgot to tell him it’s acrocanthosaurus.”

“What?”

“Um, noth-... nothing. Let’s, um, let’s go outside for for for a while.” 

Laken hand slides back into his and they walk out the opposite door that Rafael went through, Chris’s hand moving to tap on his own hip as he walks, calming himself with each quick rush of sensation. 

“Hey, hey Laken?”

“Yeah?”

“Remind me, um, remind me to, to, to-to-to call Nat later. Okay?”

“Sure. Why?”

They walk down a set of stairs, people moving quickly past or around them. He misses the weight of the feather over his chest, but he has more at home. And now there’s a pet with proof, tangible and real, that there’s a life to be made by leaving. 

A life worth living.

A life worth running without looking back.

“I, I, I want to tell her to, um, to tell the groups to... to see if someone calls them. I want to, to, to... to know if he does.”

“Who?”

“Um, I’ll, I’ll tell you, you... out, out, outside, okay?”

Somewhere inside him, as his pounding heart calms, his mother says, I’m so proud of you when he tells her that he spoke up. 

He knows Nat will say it, too. 

They surprise a bird in a burst of red wings out of a bush as they move outside, and Chris watches it fly across the courtyard and disappear into the canopy of a tree. 

One step, and then another, to build the man he is out of the boy he was before.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump  , @oops-its-whump  @cubeswhump ,  @whump-tr0pes  @downriver914 @vickytokio @wildfaewhump

[loki-hargreeves]

Vampire!Loki x Reader [smut] ~ Bite me 🎃

Warnings: vampire x human sex, biting, blood play, unprotected sex, fucking a stranger // 18+ please

Word Count: 6,9K [nice]

Summary: You’re in the forest on what seems like a regular day, when suddenly everything changes. A werewolf chases you and you’re trapped, until Loki arrives and saves you. This handsome stranger takes you to his mansion where things evolve quickly and passionately. When you find out he’s a vampire, you have two choices. To run for your life, or get captured willingly...

Author’s Note: It’s Halloween and I made Y/N a little bit freaky when it comes to vampires. Enjoy! :)

Listen to: Flesh - Simon Curtis   or any Halloween playlist honestly 

YOUR POV

The weather wasn’t always predictable. On days that started with autumn sunshine and a lovely breeze, no one could really see the storm coming. Not even you, as you made your way deep into the forest to pick berries and herbs. You had only been surrounded by the tall trees for a few lonely hours, as the sunshine turned into darkness and rain began to pour from the skies. 

Birds flew away from the clouds, and you had to assume that a thunderstorm was coming, even though you saw the light from the full moon shine through the cracks in the clouds. The only thing you could do now was to seek shelter, which wasn’t easy when you were far away from the town and the safety of your own home.

“Fuck,” You cursed as you felt the rain soaking through your coat, cold droplets running down your spine, leaving shivers behind its trail. Moments later, you heard the first brawl of thunder, roaring loudly throughout the land. You didn’t see where the lightning struck, but based on the volume of it, you had to assume it was close -- too close. 

You had to push branches and twigs out of your way as you made your way through the narrow pathway. It was incredibly dark, so it was hard to see your surroundings. The rain and thunder were loud and it made your ears hurt. The weather had changed to fast that it was almost unreal, and now you were cold and wet which was beyond annoying. 

You would be lucky if you didn’t get struck by lightning. 

After a while, you heard a cracking sound, and you caught a shadowy figure in the corner of your eye. As if you met a brick wall, you stopped and held your breath. With narrowed eyes, you scanned the dark surroundings. 

“Hello?” You called out, hoping that your voice didn’t give away just how frightened you were. It was odd how meeting other people in the woods could be so scary. 

When you didn’t get an answer, you decided to take a few steps forward. That’s when you heard another pair of footsteps, coming closer to you. Whoever it was, they didn’t want to make their presence clear, and that was very suspicious to you.

Whoever it was must’ve had ill intentions, which became awfully clear when they ran towards you. You only saw it for a short moment and struggled to see any human signs. As if you weren’t terrified enough when you realized you were being chased, you now feared that it wasn’t even human.

Without any hesitation, you dropped your basket on the ground and took off into a sprint. Adrenaline kicked into your system and your only thought was to get away from that stranger as fast as you could. You didn’t even want to imagine what would happen if you slipped and fell right into their grasp. 

Was it an animal? Why did it run like a human?

“Help!” You cried out, hoping that perhaps someone could hear you. It was unlikely, but you were stranded and absolutely helpless.

The strange creature was coming closer and closer to you.

You didn’t know if it had only been a few seconds, or minutes, but you were exhausted. Your heart was beating all the way in your throat, and every breath you took of the cold rainy air made your throat hurt. Eventually, the worst thing that could’ve happened happened.

As you stared at each other, you couldn’t even breathe. For a moment, you were paralyzed by fear as you realized that whatever had caught you looked like a werewolf. It dug its sharp claws into your arms, which made you panic. You had to fight!

Your foot tangled with a plant on the ground, and you felt your balance go way off. Just like that, your body slammed against the muddy forest ground hard and painfully. Before you could even get a chance to get up, you were caught.

The creature leapt on top of you, and you could finally see what it was. Lightning illuminated the sky and you saw its face clearly. To your horror, it was hairy and beast-like. It had a snout, and rows of sharp and pointy teeth, coated with drool. What frightened you the most were the bright yellow eyes that bore holes into your skull.

With nothing to lose, you tried to kick it off you, but to no avail. The creature growled angrily and opened its mouth. You let out another horrified scream as you feared the worst. 

But it didn’t bite you. 

The creature froze as well and it was staring at something that you couldn’t see. Then as fast as it had appeared, it let go of you and ran off into the forest. Your body was shaking in terror and you couldn’t believe what had happened. What had possibly scared it away?

You sat up from the cold ground and looked around, hoping to see who had saved you. At first, you couldn’t see anything at all. Tears blurred your vision and it was dark. Then someone stepped out of the shadows, someone that at least resembled a human, to your luck. 

A tall, dark-haired man stood in front of you. He had pale skin, and that contrasted with his dark clothes. Something about him was very charming, welcoming. You felt safe in his presence.

“Thank you,” You barely got the words out of your mouth.

The stranger looked at the wounds on your arms. Even though your thick coat, he noticed the blood. “Come with me. I live nearby.”

He smiled ever so slightly as he walked closer to you, “We shouldn’t stick around. It might return,” He let you know and he was oddly calm about it. Almost like the sight of a werewolf was anything but strange.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” You remembered. The closest houses were far away, at least the ones that you knew of. 

Did he live in the middle of the deep and dark woods? 

You realized that you didn’t have any better options, so you decided to trust him. Just like that, the two of you were on your way. You stuck close to him because you were still terrified, and he was the only thing that made you feel even a little bit better.

It took you a while to calm down from it all. The initial shock faded and you could actually think about it. What you had seen was absurd it and made you sick to think how close to death you had been. How did this stranger make the creature run away? It was something you simply couldn’t understand. 

“What is your name?” He asked you, interrupting your thoughts. You didn’t mind it.

“I’m Y/N,” You answered him politely, wiping your face from tears and dirt, “and you?”

He didn’t look at you as he answered, “You can call me Loki.”

                  It turned out that Loki had told you the truth. As bizarre as it was, he had a house in the middle of nowhere. It looked like a mansion, with its black iron gates, impressive garden and the sheer size of the building. It even had a tower that seemed to have one floor more than the rest of the house. You wondered if he lived there all alone, and why. 

Kindly, he invited you inside where you could finally rest your tense body and feel safe from the monster that had tried to eat you earlier. You were certain of it.

The inside of the house was just as impressive as it was outside. You walked in to see a large spiral staircase to the upper floor, large paintings on the walls with golden frames and furniture that looked old yet fancy and expensive. Whoever this Loki was, he sure had a good taste in the finer things in life. 

He was lighting up the fireplace so you could warm yourself.

“Thank you, again,” You felt the need to thank him. He had to know how grateful you were. If it wasn’t for him, you’d be long gone already. And now he was treating you as a guest as if he hadn’t done enough already. 

As the two of you sat by the fireplace, he offered to take your coat off. He hung it by the fireplace so it would dry faster. That’s when you first saw your arm wounds. The blood had spread all over the sleeves of your white shirt, and you saw rips that were left by the massive claws. Loki stared at the wounds for a while, almost strangely. You brushed it off, thinking that he didn’t like the sight of blood too much.

“No worries, love. I couldn’t just leave you there by yourself, now could I?”

You had only just met him, but the pet name made your heart flutter. You got a better look at him and noticed how charming he really was. Not only was he the equivalent of a prince, but he was also incredibly nice to you. It was hard not to like him. 

He returned to the couch you were sat on and inspected the wounds. The blood certainly made it look worse than it really was. It didn’t hurt too much and you realized it was mostly a bunch of surface scratches. 

“Does it hurt?” Loki wondered, never taking his eyes off your bloody wound. 

“Not really. I’ll be fine,” You reassured him. The last thing you wanted was to bother him with your worries and pain right now. 

Nevertheless, Loki rolled up your sleeve to reveal the wound on your left arm. His cool finger traced your skin, and you had to be lying if you said you didn’t like his touch. Something about him was so captivating. You didn’t even know him but you felt like you could do anything for him. It was strange, and you didn’t understand it.

He pulled his finger back and stared at your blood that was on his skin. After a while, it got slightly stranger.

Loki seemed to realize that too as he stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

He walked away, leaving you alone to warm up by the fireplace. You didn’t think too much of it.

        As Loki returned, you felt much better already. He was holding a small box in his large hands. He opened it and you saw needles, cotton, and all things you would need to stitch someone up. “I am running you a bath. By the time I’m done with you, it should be ready.”

That’s what took him so long. Hearing that made your heart swell and you were moved by his kindness. “Thank you, that’s really nice of you.”

“Of course,” Loki smiled and looked right into your eyes. Those eyes of his were captivating. You looked into them and couldn’t look away, but you didn’t want to look away either. Why did he have such an effect on you? 

Before you got lost in his eyes, he looked away and began to attend to your wound. “This might sting a little bit,” He explained as he doused a cotton ball in a clear liquid. Next thing you knew, he pressed it on your wounds and it burned like fire. You bit your lips together and tried to ignore the pain. 

“Are you okay?” Loki wondered, sensing that you were in pain.

“I’m good,” You reassured him through gritted teeth. 

A few more seconds passed and he was done, throwing the bloody cotton ball into the fireplace. “You’re lucky, Y/N,” He explained mysteriously. 

“What do you mean?”

Loki was focused on fixing you up, but he continued speaking, “Do you know what attacked you?”

You had your suspicions, but you were afraid you’d sound stupid if you told him. “I’m not sure,” you had to tell him.

Loki moved onto your other arm and you knew he was going to clean the wound, which would hurt again. Just as he pressed the cotton ball against the wound and you hissed in pain, he continued, “That was a werewolf.”

Hearing him say that was almost relieving. Either both of you were mad, or you had seen right. The relief was quickly replaced by fear. It wasn’t very reassuring to know that they existed. 

“How did you make it run away?” You wanted to know. To you, Loki didn’t look like a threat. At least not to a strong beast like the werewolf. It just didn’t make sense to you how it ran away with its tail between its legs once Loki appeared -- seemingly out of nowhere.

He continued rubbing the cotton ball around your wound, cleaning up the dried blood. “I don’t think you would believe me if I told you.”

You just talked about the existence of werewolves, yet he didn’t think you would trust him? 

“Try me,” You encouraged him to tell you the truth. 

Silently, Loki finished his work and threw the other cotton ball into the fireplace as well, watching how it burned away. 

You were afraid you had been rude. Before you could try to apologize, he sighed, “I think the bath is ready. We can talk after you’re done.”

That was good enough for you.

                   During the time you were alone in the lavish bathroom, soaking in the warm bath that smelled like flowers, you couldn’t stop thinking about Loki. Why was he so mysterious? Why was he being so nice to you? It didn’t make sense. Many people would’ve stopped helping you after chasing the werewolf away. Just the thought of the werewolf made your head spin. 

It was much better to think about Loki. The tall, dark-haired stranger had certainly swept you off your feet. Each time you looked at him, you felt an invisible force trying to push you closer to him. It was absurd since you had met him that day. But somehow, it also made sense. 

You were done with your bath and you wrapped yourself in robes that he had given to you. Your clothes were drying and after all, wearing some silky robes in a beautiful mansion wasn’t so bad. 

But you didn’t see Loki’s reflection.

Someone was playing the piano, which was the first thing you noticed when you walked out of the bathroom. With quiet steps, you walked towards the staircase, and you saw Loki. He was playing the grand piano downstairs, by the staircase. It was a familiar tune, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Nevertheless, it was elegant and he played it beautifully. For a moment, you stood there and adored the music he created. It filled the otherwise silent mansion perfectly.

As you stood there and adored him, you saw a huge mirror on the wall, facing the piano. You saw the flames from the fireplace in the reflection, the beginning of the staircase and the piano.

At first, you thought it was the angle. But then you realized that you should’ve been able to see him. You blinked a few times and looked closer, but his reflection simply didn’t exist. By now, he had stopped playing the piano, and to your horror, he was looking at you. 

Suddenly, you didn’t feel safe anymore, and your poor heart sank to the bottom of your stomach. 

“Do not be afraid, pet. If I wanted to hurt you, you wouldn’t be standing there,” Loki broke the silence between the two of you. 

Although you were afraid, you realized that he had a good point. 

“What are you?” You had to know. You felt trapped as you stood upstairs. He blocked the way to the front door. Then you realized that if you would run, he would probably catch you nevertheless. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Loki wondered, standing up from the chair by the piano and spreading his arms in a dramatic gesture. 

You remembered how odd he was when he saw your blood, how he had just stared at it for a while. He didn’t have a reflection. He lived alone, in the middle of nowhere. His presence had scared the werewolf away. 

You put all the pieces together and it all made sense. Shivers ran down your spine like cold daggers against your skin, and your knees felt weak. “You’re a vampire,” You stated, but it sounded more like a question.

A proud smile decorated his face when he heard that. “Very good, Y/N.”

This couldn’t be happening.

First, a werewolf attacked you and now you were facing a vampire, in his own home. You were afraid, but another part of you...wasn’t. You felt slightly excited, as wrong as it was. 

“Are you afraid of me?” Loki wondered and slowly made his way up the stairs. 

Run! Run away! 

Your mind was screaming at you to run away from the blood-sucking creature, but you didn’t. You just stood there, trying to remain as calm as possible as he got closer and closer. By the time he reached the final step, you could hear your heartbeat ringing in your ears. 

“Answer me,” Loki wanted to know if you feared him. He stood right in front of you and took your shaking hand into his own. His skin was cool, like a window on a rainy day. It was oddly comforting.

“A little bit,” You were honest. You knew you were supposed to be terrified, but when you looked into his eyes, you felt an odd sense of calm. 

You were afraid, but you also enjoyed it. It didn’t make any sense to you, but you didn’t mind. Loki’s presence somehow made you feel alive, but you weren’t going to tell him that. Right?

It seemed like Loki already knew that. Judging by the smirk on his face, and the look in his pretty eyes, he knew. Could he read your mind or was he just that good at reading people?

“I don’t know,” You murmured. A part of you knew it already. You knew you couldn’t outrun him, but you also didn’t want to run. Even if you had decided to run, you knew that a part of you wanted to be caught. 

“Why didn’t you run?” Loki wondered.

He brushed his fingers against your cheek and instinctively your body leaned against his touch ever so slightly. It almost felt like you were in a trance, but you didn’t resist it at all. 

“I think you do,” Loki raised his eyebrows and traced his fingers along your jaw, then your neck. He could feel your racing pulse against his fingertips, feel the warm blood rushing in your veins. 

Having a vampire toy with your neck like that was intimidating. Was he going to bite you? 

“W-what are you going to do to me?” You dared to question him. 

Loki leaned closer to your body, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. He was so close that you could smell his cologne. His mouth was so close to your ear and you realized that he wasn’t breathing. “Nothing too bad, love. Nothing you wouldn’t want to be done to you,” He answered quietly. His voice was so smooth, it made your body weak. 

His other hand let go of your hand that was no longer shaking, and he grabbed you by your waist. Your body melted against his and your fear was quickly replaced by something much stronger, a desire you never knew you had before. Perhaps it was wicked, but you felt a burning need to be touched by him.

“You smell divine,” Loki purred against your skin, holding himself back so he wouldn’t bite you just yet. It was so tempting. If he wanted to, he could suck you dry right then and there, but he didn’t. Loki wanted to savour the moment, to play with you as a cat would play with is prey. “I bet you taste marvellous,” He continued. 

The tall double doors to the master bedroom opened loudly, slamming against the walls and the two of you made your way inside. Loki had a tight grip on you and he didn’t let go until you were on the huge king-sized bed, resting against the pillows. Loki stood by the edge of the bed and he looked at you, taking in the sight of your beauty. He adored the way you lied there, looking at him with a thrilled smile on your face. To him, you looked like a goddess and he couldn’t wait to break you, to taste you. 

His words made you feel warm inside. This much attention from someone you barely knew was fun. You knew this was dangerous, but you didn’t care. Right now, all that mattered was him and the way he made you feel. “Why don’t you have a taste?” You wondered, which was probably the last thing he had expected to hear. Most mortals were scared to death when they were faced with a vampire, but you weren’t.

And Loki relished that. He knew he had done the right thing when he saved you from the forest.

Your breath was heavy and you began to grow impatient. It felt like your body was on fire and only he could make it better. Hoping to lure him to you, you grabbed the tie around your waist that kept the robe around your otherwise naked body. Slowly, you tugged it and untied the loose knot, which didn’t go unseen by Loki. He watched your every move so intensely, surely not missing anything. 

“You’re much naughtier than I had anticipated, Y/N,” He admitted. You noticed that his voice was deeper now, and it made you tremble to your core.

Loki wasn’t any less excited than you were. He pushed his body closer to yours and then you felt it, his cock was hard and it was pushed right against your body. A moan escaped your lips, blending into your heated kiss. 

You opened the robe slowly, just enough to show the curve of your breasts, the skin on your stomach and your thigh. Just enough so he’d catch the bait.

To your luck, Loki joined you on the bed and he wasn’t shy about it. He yanked the robe away, exposing your body to him like a gift wrapped in wrapping paper. The weight of his body on yours trapped you, but in the very best way. Your eyes met and finally, his teasing touch turned into something more. Loki captured your lips into his, and at that moment, you almost forgot that he was a vampire. The kiss was passionate and harsh, but lovely nevertheless. You felt as if you could spend the rest of your days like this. 

You couldn’t help yourself when you bucked your hips against him, trying to gain some friction. Loki growled quietly, which was like music to your ears. How did he sound so hot when he did that? 

He moved his lips to your jaw, peppering kisses on your skin and slowly moving towards your neck. Another moan left your lips when he found your sweet spot. “You like that?” Loki chuckled darkly and kissed the same spot again, making you take a shaky breath to collect yourself.

“Yes..” You had to admit it, yearning for his touch again, and again, and again.

Loki’s cold hand had been tracing patterns on your skin, and now he cupped your breast. His thumb ran over your hardening nipple in a teasing manner and he didn’t hesitate to squeeze you properly. You arched your back and gave him better access to devour your neck. His lips felt like heaven against your needy body.

“Loki,” You mewled his name, needing him to do more. You held onto his broad shoulders with your trembling fingers. By now, you were so aroused and touch starved that your body was overwhelmed, which resulted in you shaking in anticipation. 

You wanted his touch, his lips, everything. It was a little embarrassing, but right now you didn’t care if you seemed desperate. “I want you!”

“What do you want, darling?” He wanted to hear you say it.

But when you felt his twitching cock against your wetness, his huge hands toying with your breasts and his oh so lovely lips nibbling on your neck, you struggled to think, let alone form a sentence. You let out a frustrated whine, which again made Loki laugh. “Words, love. Tell me what you want.” This time he sounded more demanding. 

“Mmhmm,” Loki moved his hand up your chest and around your neck, holding you a little tighter but not enough to choke you. “I might want something in return,” He reminded you. 

You looked into his eyes that were now darkened by lust. As scary as it seemed, you didn’t care. You were aware of what you were getting yourself into, with this vampire. 

“Bite me,” You told him boldly. 

Loki seemed pleasantly surprised by that. “It will hurt,” He let you know as he brushed your hair away from your neck. He was thirsty and he wanted to taste you already, but prolonging it made it more fun. 

You were far too eager to think about the consequences. 

“I don’t care,” You admitted shamelessly. A little pain here and there would only spice things up.

That was more than enough for Loki. He parted his lips and you finally saw them, his fangs. Two sharp teeth that looked like the ends of a pair of daggers. They were sharp and long. Oddly enough, you found him attractive with them.

Loki nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck and you wrapped your arms around his torso, for comfort but also to keep him close because it felt nice. By now, your heart was back in your throat, beating hard from both arousal and excitement, and a little bit of fear. 

As if to make you more comfortable, Loki pushed his hand between your legs and found your clit. He started rubbing circles on your little bundle of nerves which felt heavenly. His fingers were skilled, and he somehow knew exactly how to make you crumble beneath his touch. Instinctively you wrapped your leg around him, giving him better access to your dripping wet cunt.

Suddenly you felt a very sharp pain in your neck. His teeth pierced your skin and he bit you, surely hard enough to leave a prominent mark.

“Ohh,” You moaned in pain and squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to stay tough. It hurt more than you thought it would, but it wasn’t so bad that you had to push him off. Once his teeth had sunk deep enough, he closed his lips around the fresh wound and he sucked on your skin. It was a bizarre sensation when he drank your blood, not letting a single drop go to waste. Through all the pain it caused, it felt good. 

Loki pulled his sharp fangs out of your neck and you felt a hot stream of blood running down your skin, which he licked off immediately. “Gosh, you taste even better than I thought you would,” He let you know.

“Loki,” You moaned his name delightfully, feeling a new kind of high. He had just drunk your blood and now his fingers were giving you exactly what you needed. 

“You’re doing so good,” He praised you, which made you feel proud. You wanted to be good for him. For a moment, he let go of you, which made you whine impatiently. But he didn’t leave you in distress for long. You pushed yourself up by the elbows and watched how he crawled down your body, kissing you chest and stomach as he did so. Finally, he was between your legs and he had a tight grip on your body, keeping you locked on the spot so you couldn’t possibly escape the torture of pleasure he was going to put you through. 

“Let’s see how you can handle this,” You could barely hear it. The next thing you knew, his tongue licked your heat all the way to your clit. Then Loki captured it between his lips and began sucking on it, and nibbling it, whatever to make you writhe in both pleasure and pain.

You could hardly breathe when he had started. It happened so fast and you were suddenly indulged in the greatest pleasure you had ever felt in your life. Your body didn’t know how to react, and you were squirming which was out of your control. But Loki was strong and he kept you exactly where he wanted you.

“Oh my god!” You cried out and squeezed the sheets with your hands, having to hold onto something. Never before had you felt an orgasm forming faster. No one had ever touched you like this. It felt like you were being devoured by a god, and you loved every second of it. 

When Loki pushed two of his long fingers inside you, you lost your breath for a moment. The feeling of his fingers stretching your cunt as his mouth tortured your clit was too much. You felt warmth spread on your face from embarrassment when you knew you couldn’t hold it for much longer. 

“Loki...I’m going to come, I’m-”

“Do it,” he wanted you to come undone right before him. Knowing that you were close made him eager to push you even further. He thrusted his fingers inside you faster and curled them just perfectly. He kept doing that and he never took his eyes off of yours. 

Thankfully, he stopped -- for now. He kissed your inner thigh and then let go of you. As you stayed on the bed to catch your breath, Loki stood up. By now he wanted you so bad it was almost unbearable. His pants were tight to the point it almost hurt. He needed you, and he needed you fast. He rid himself of his clothes that were just in the way and then returned to the bed. 

You looked down and when you saw just how intensely he was watching you, you came. Your orgasm was powerful, and it felt like it knocked you out. It rippled through your body strongly and left you a puddle on the mattress. It didn’t stop Loki. He pulled his fingers out and licked your arousal, making sure to taste all of you.

“Loki! Fuck...I can’t,” You whimpered when it got too much. Although it felt amazing, you were sure that if he kept teasing your sensitive cunt, you’d pass out. 

“Are you alright, love?” He was full of lust, but he also had to know if you were up to it. 

“I’ve never been better,” You answered him joyously. It was true. You couldn’t recall ever feeling as good as you did now. It was like you were on cloud nine with him. Somehow the bite didn’t hurt. It felt like bliss had enveloped you entirely, and it wasn’t over yet.

Seeing all of him was impressive. His cock was huge, and the tip was red. You knew he was being extremely careful with you and he must’ve yearned for touch, some much needed friction. Before he could crawl on top of you, you grabbed him by his shoulders and pushed him on his back, crawling on his lap as you did so. He seemed surprised by this move, but he didn’t mind it. “Are you sure you can take it?” 

“Oh I can,” You were confident. By now, you had recovered from your first mind-blowing orgasm and you needed more. It had only taken one time and you felt addicted. The thought of feeling his cock inside you was like a dream and you needed it to come true now. 

Carefully, you grabbed his cock and rubbed your thumb over the tip, spreading his pre-cum. It was so big that you could hardly close your hand around it.

“Like what you see?” Loki had turned a little cocky by now, but you didn’t mind it at all. 

You looked into his eyes and nodded, “I certainly can’t complain.”

Loki grabbed your hips rather roughly, but you liked the dominance of it all. You leaned your body closer to his dick, but instead of riding him, you decided to tease him. You rubbed your clit against his tip, and then sat down so his cock was trapped between you and his stomach. Then slowly, you rubbed yourself off on his cock, feeling how it twitched by the teasing touch. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. He turned the two of you around coarsely so that he was on top. You barely had time to register what was happening when he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, with one hand.

“You’re certainly full of surprises,” Loki’s voice was raspy, and you could tell he felt good. Perhaps he was a little irritated by the teasing but in the very best way.

You rested your hands on his chest and picked up the pace, humping yourself on his cock which felt so good. By now, your clit was pulsing ever so eagerly and you were sure your arousal was dripping on the sheets. A little moan left your lips, and it was driving Loki wild.

Finally, he sank his cock into you. It was a little harsh, but it was incredibly satisfying. 

“Loki! Holy…” You panted, and didn’t finish the sentence. His body was heavy on yours and you felt trapped, and hugged. 

“Loki,” You tried to catch his attention in the middle of it all. He grabbed your jaw and looked into your eyes curiously, slowing down ever so slightly with his strong thrusts. He was listening. 

He had a good grip on you, which he used as he began pounding into you. He wasn’t careful anymore, not like he was before. His touch was strong and it would certainly leave bruises. The way he pushed himself deep inside your cunt was feral. It was driving you absolutely wild.

A set of moans and cries left your mouth uncontrollably. The way he reached that delightful spot within you every time was almost too much for you to handle. He fucked you unlike any other man before. Like a vampire. You were his prey.

Loki grabbed your ass and squeezed tightly, making you groan and hold onto him tighter. Your nails were digging into his skin, but he didn’t seem to mind it at all.

“You...feel...absolutely amazing, pet,” He growled to you, chasing his own high.

A warm feeling spread through your body. You were happy that he felt good too. Somehow, you wanted more. 

“Bite me,” You wanted him to do it again. You wanted to feel the adrenaline rush and the pain again, but now combined with his lovely pounding.

There was a gleam in his eyes now, and you didn’t have to tell him twice. He was quick to move your head and reveal the unbroken skin on the other side of your neck. He could see your pulse, and it was practically begging him to bite already. This time he went right for it. The sharp fangs stung madly and then sank deep into your flesh. At first, the pain made you freeze. You held onto him tighter, combing your fingers through his long, raven hair and holding onto his neck.

When he started sucking your precious blood, and he kept digging his cock into your wetness, you relaxed. A wave of pleasure crashed against you and somehow it felt euphoric how he was biting you. You couldn’t feel pain anymore; just a perfect bliss. 

You let out a throaty moan and closed your eyes, wanting to feel everything as intensely as you possibly could. He was so close, and you could’ve sworn you felt his cock all the way in your stomach. At first, it hurt how much he was stretching you, but now it was the best thing you had ever felt. 

There was a tingling sensation on your neck when he swallowed your blood. Loki craved more, but he also knew that if he took too much, you would suffer from it. 

With any other human, he wouldn’t have thought about it twice. He would’ve sucked them dry and left them to die. But he didn’t want to do that with you. No, you were special and now that he had you, he wasn’t going to let go.

So he abandoned your neck, and kissed the wound he made -- to make you feel better. He had a little bit of your blood left in his mouth, which he wanted to savour until he got an idea.

Once again, Loki grabbed your jaw forcefully, which caused you to open your mouth. Without hesitation, he spat the remaining blood right into your mouth. “Taste yourself,” He explained and closed your mouth so you couldn’t spit it out and waste the bloody nectar.

At first, you felt shocked that he did that. But you quickly learned that you enjoyed it. The way he just manhandled you with such care. The blood had a strong irony taste. At first, it was almost too much. But then you swallowed it, all of it while looking at Loki. Once he saw that you swallowed it, he was happy. 

“Good girl,” he praised you again. He kissed your lips, which took you by surprise but in a pleasant way. Then he picked up the pace, fucking you harder again, bringing the both of you closer to the edge. Another storm was brewing within you, and you were getting dangerously close. Your walls clenched around Loki, and he growled at the sensation. “You’re close, aren’t you?” He realized, and he sounded smug about it. 

You could only nod your head as an answer, along with an incompetent moan.

He wanted to watch you unfold, to be so full of pleasure that you wouldn’t know how to handle it. Torturing others with pleasure was one of the greatest things he knew of, and it was no different with you. Loki began to rub circles on your clit just to make it harder for you.

“Oh god!” You gasped at the sudden sensation. His cold fingers felt like a dream against your heat. Like water after a long, hot day. 

“Come for me! Come my little pet,” He wanted you to cum all over his cock. Loki was close too and he couldn’t wait to spill his seed inside your inviting body. It was incredibly tempting, and he wasn’t sure if he could stop now even if he wanted to. 

You felt like he pushed you over the edge and he did so hard. Your second orgasm approached fast and deeply, shaking you to the core. Your mind went blank and you were sure you cried out his name repeatedly like a prayer, but you weren’t aware of it. The mixture of feelings and desire had you overwhelmed, like in a dream-like state of mind.

Loki felt your walls tightening around him which pushed him to the edge too. He grabbed your hips and buried himself deep inside you as he finally came. A warm feeling spread through his entire body and he felt relieved.

His cum coated your walls, and you couldn’t help but to moan when you felt him filling you up. It was an incredibly satisfying feeling to know he came too.Loki didn’t pull out. He wanted to savour the moment for as long as he possibly could. He wanted to stay close to you like this and soak in the bliss.

And he knew that if you were up to it, he could do it again. After all, he was no ordinary man.

“That was incredible, Loki,” You whispered, afraid to break the comfortable silence that set around you.

Loki brushed his fingers over the bite-marks ever so gently. He knew that you, as a human, must’ve been exhausted after all that. He didn’t just bite you once, but twice, and he had handled you quite decently as well. He’d happily do it again, but he knew it could be too much for a mere mortal like you. 

For now. 

“You should rest,” He told you after a while. 

Sleep would top it all off nicely, you thought. “Can you stay?” You wondered. His presence was calming and you enjoyed it. Deep down, you wished that this wasn’t going to end already.

“Of course. I���ll go grab something and I will be right back by your side,” Loki promised you as he was brushing his fingers on your neck and shoulders.

He wasn’t going to throw you out now that he had gotten what he wanted. It made your heart swell warmly. Who would’ve guessed a vampire could be so sweet? 

As he pulled out of you, you felt empty and cold. You squeezed your weary legs together and tried to pull a blanket over your exposed body. He had been right. You needed to rest. All that had taken a toll on you. You were going to clean yourself up very soon, but your legs were jelly and you knew you wouldn’t be able to get up just yet. 

Loki grabbed the large blanket and spread it over you safely. Something inside of him told him to take care of you. He didn’t know why but he was protective over you. Perhaps it was because you were different.

Or because he hadn’t killed you, and you were now going to turn into a vampire -- just like him.

 He was the one who had started the process, infected you with the beginning of a new life. Loki felt responsible for your transformation and he was going to make sure it would happen smoothly.

You were his now, but you just didn’t know that yet.

A/N: You made it to the end! Great! I hope you liked it, and if you did I would really appreciate your feedback and/or a reblog <3 Thank you. 🎃

TAGS:  @iraniq @blackroseyaz @badass-psycho  @r-alexandra01  @your-pixels-are-showing @disasterren @iamsuperjenna  @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 [let me know if you want to be added/removed]

[thunderheadfred]

🤚The Second Worst (Pt. 2/?)🤚

Oh hey look it's more of that Shigaraki x Reader thing I don't have a name for yet but is definitely not just headcanons anymore oh god I have to admit this is some kind of fanfic now don't I??? HC's // The Second Worst: 1 - 2

Also on AO3. Set in a parallel AU where a quirkless reader meets Shigaraki before he forms the League. No specific warnings, but things get pretty errrm..... handsy. Minors do not interact.

- - - - -

He shows up in the afternoons, usually. Just enough time to mess you up before abandoning you to another night of yearning. Sometimes he reappears so early in the morning that you wonder if he’s been sleeping in your stairwell and listening to you masturbate.

The pretense of gaming or watching movies quickly falls away. All you care about is touching him. The moment Tenko walks through your door, you’re undressing him with your eyes. You undress him with your hands, too. Careful and slow, always watching his jittery face. He allows you to explore a little further every time… but it’s never enough.

Sometimes he goes completely still, locked somewhere deep within himself. At first you worry you’re taking advantage of him. But then he’ll blink and lunge for you. His half-gloved hands will grope over your clothes and fist your hair. He’ll kiss you like he needs you to breathe.

His lips are getting softer. Every kiss tastes fresher, and he smiles into your mouth. He’s getting healthier, you think. You’re startled; you’re proud. He’s actually taking care of himself. He’s changing.

But then his naked finger brushes your skin… and he jolts. In an instant, he shrinks back into that frail, angry creature you met in Akihabara. You tell him it’s okay, that you trust him. He shakes his head no, his whole body clenching. He paces. He fumes. Sometimes he runs out the door too fast to follow, like death is on his heels.

You realize: as much as he scared you in the beginning, he’s infinitely more terrified of himself.

Let him be afraid, you think. As long as he comes back.

- - -

He starts losing patience with himself, inventing his own loopholes. He finds ways to touch you without his hands. He likes to pull away while he kisses you and nuzzle his face into your palm. He breathes shakily and kisses your wrist, tonguing your life line and up between your fingers where you’re ticklish and vulnerable. His lips trace the bones of your arm to the curve of your ribs. He leaves bite marks on your chest and neck and belly and thighs.

The first time he noses up against your sex, he cums in his rumpled pants. You watch his narrow hips grind through empty air, and imagine him fucking you. You think about fucking a lot these days, and never more than when he’s on top you with his cloth-covered cock digging into all the wrong places.

When you moan and buck towards him, he almost laughs. It sounds so damn airy and sweet, like cotton candy. You throb all the way down to your toes. He licks his lips and kisses your thigh, his hot breath flickering exactly where you need him most, his breathing quick and ragged…

Yes, baby.

You can’t believe you just called him that out loud. Baby. It just tumbled out. But when he’s like this, half-naked and sweat-glittered, his fairy-soft hair pooled on your thighs and his eyes drinking you in, that’s all you can think of…

You feel his hot cheek burrow into you, trying to hide his blush. But the heat of his laugh, the curve of his shy, secret smile gives him away.

Baby. Your baby.

Fuck, you’re so close, and all you need is for him to touch you, just once…

His phone buzzes in his pocket. His blown-out pupils shrink down to nothing and he sits bolt upright.

No, no. Not again. Not now. Who could possibly be calling him? He doesn’t have any friends, he only has you. Only you, who still doesn’t have his god-damned phone number (and why is that?) so who the fuck could be more important?

Tenko doesn’t answer, but the phone doesn’t stop buzzing.

I have to go.

- - -

An insecure pang beats in your chest. Maybe he’s just using you.

No. You can’t really believe that. Not when he’s so frantic every time he comes to you. Not when his kisses scratch and burn like he wants to tattoo himself into your skin. Not when he’s barely through the door before he’s pushing his body against yours, his rough, thin voice whining into your neck.

Not when he finally makes you cum.

His dark eyes stare up at you. His long-fingered hands open your thighs, his gloved thumbs digging into the meat of you. A rare moment of fearlessness, maybe. Possibly he is awed by his power over you in this frozen, breathless moment. He whispers, Like this? as he lowers his unskilled mouth to your core. Tentatively, he learns how to please you.

Yes, Tenko. Like that. Please, baby. Just a little more…

You want his fingers inside you. His fingers and his cock. But you know better than to ask while his hands skitter like frightened moths across your thighs. Instead, you slide your fingers into his hair and die, just a little, in his mouth.

- - -

He’s paranoid about two things: touching you… and staying out too late.

You think you can understand the first fear well enough. He never comes near you without gloves on, and even after all this time, he still instinctively avoids touching your bare skin with his fingers. Once, you tried asking him directly about his quirk; that was a mistake.

As for the second fear: Tenko’s schedule is a strange, nonexistent thing. You know he doesn’t work or attend university; you suspect he never attended grade school either. He seems to have no social or familial attachments, no personal obligations of any kind. All bad signs.

Why aren’t you alarmed? You know—you know it deep down in your bones—Tenko can’t commit to you. You can’t commit to him, either, and you haven’t. Not really. This whole thing feels like a hallucination. No one in your life has any idea he exists. Because what the fuck would you tell them?

He seems to have no motivations in life other than video games and bottomless misanthropy. There’s no future with him the way he is now. And yet… you keep letting him in. You keep clinging to his sleeve, asking him to stay. You keep ignoring the gnawing, ever-expanding knot in your gut that tells you to run.

But why would you run? One look from him turns that knot to butterflies.

- - -

Eventually, you gather enough courage to ask why he lives somewhere with such a strict curfew.

You think it’s a tactful way of asking if he’s homeless and living in a shelter. Maybe there is no tactful way to ask that kind of thing, because he looks at you like you’re stupid. You try to explain yourself: he doesn’t have to stay anywhere he doesn’t like. It’s… it’s okay if he stays with you. For a little while. You wouldn’t mind. Until he can find his own place. At least that way you’d know he’s safe.

Father will keep me safe, he says. The wide, toothy certainty of his smile stops your blood.

Much, much worse; the way he looks around your apartment as if a burlap sack has been ripped off his head. When his eyes settle on you, he can’t leave fast enough.

- - - - -

[amphxtrite]

remus lupin x fem!reader

warning: Swearing, spelling/ grammar mistakes

summary: You and Remus have had a rivalry since the day you met, what happens when the two of you start to feel more?

word count: 3.1k

enjoy<3

__________________________________________

You and Remus Lupin had a… Complicated history, It wasn’t anything really bad, just a childhood nemesis, someone to always be better than. That was all it was for a couple years, a strange rivalry between two children. It all began back during first year, in your very first Defense Against the Dark Art class. You were ecstatic to begin your very first lesson. You sat right at the very front of the room and quickly brought out and organized all your parchment, quills and textbooks, patiently folding your hands onto your desk and waiting with a smile on your face for class to begin. You heard a snicker behind you, and turned to see four boys enter the class, all laughing and whispering behind their hands, you turn back around as the professor walks into the room to begin the lesson.

“Hey would you mind if I sat next to you?” you heard a small voice call from beside you as the professor scribbles something on the board. You look over to see one of the loud students who’d entered the class, a sandy-haired boy with scars littering his face. “Of course,” you say with a smile, thinking this was a chance to make a new friend, but you were proven wrong when the boy simply nodded, put his stuff down and turned to the table beside theirs, to talk to the boys from before. You hid your disappointment by turning back to the teacher.

“Welcome to your first Defense Against the Dark Arts class students!” Professor Sterling, as you learned his name was, called out, “In this class I will be teaching you about defensive spells and possible beasts you could face, to protect yourselves from the dangers of the dark arts, now!” He clapped his hands together. “Who can give me three examples of creatures that will be talked about in this class, hm?” He questions. Two hands shoot up. “Yes Miss L/n?” He points to your hand. “Boggarts, Vampires, and Werewolves.” You state confidently, “Good, 5 points to y/h. Now, what about three spells that will be used in this class?” He questions again. The same two hands shoot up. “Mr. Lupin?” He points to the boy next to you. “Flipendendo, Expelliarmus, and Verdimillious.” He replies, you drop your hand defeated. “Splendid! 5 points to gryffindor.” The boy smiles shyly. The class continues like this, the professor asking a question and the two of you racing to answer before the other. It was an unconscious thing, the two of you hadn’t realized you were competing until you felt your heart race, as a question was asked, and the feeling of anger replacing disappointment when your hand wasn’t picked. It was frustrating to say the least, you were so excited to show off your knowledge in this class and now here was this boy stealing your thunder. You could tell he felt the same though, the frustration in his face when Professor Sterling chose you gave it away.

By the end of the class you were almost seething, the only thing keeping you from hexing the boy was your common sense, and even that was running thin. You tried to keep your composure as you walked out of the class, but you were very obviously muttering curses under your breath. The only thing that got you to stop was the professor telling you on the way out of the class that you were a bright young witch, unfortunately followed by Lupin being complimented as well. You huffed.

That was how the rivalry between you and Remus began, you’d learned his name through Lily Evans, your first friend. She found it funny how competitive you were, not thinking you’d go this far on it. She spent a good chunk of her time prying books out of your hands or hearing you complain about Remus, and that happened a lot.

“I’m seriously starting to believe you fancy him, you speak about him so much!” She huffed out after a bad rant in your third year. “Me? And Lupin?” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “I have no idea what you’re going on about.” But Lily could swear she saw a pink blush coming about on your cheeks and she knew for a fact that the warm fall air wasn’t the cause, she smiled and decided to let this play out.

For four years, four fucking years, you’d been at it with Lupin and both of you showed no sign of stopping. At any time both you and Remus could be seen reading DADA textbooks, books, and journals of famous wizards, With one goal in your mind, to beat one another. The two of you both started strong in this competition, but you had to admit you were tired of this petty rivalry and really had no problem with Remus, but for some reason you just wouldn’t let up, your competitive demeanor taking over every time you tried to resolve something with him. You decided it would be best just to slowly ease out of your tense situation with the gryffindor and try to focus on your studies instead of just beating Remus. You didn’t raise your hand at every question, spent more time socializing over studying, and didn’t make any sarcastic comments when he got an answer right, just simply continued on with the class. At first Remus thought he was victorious, that he’d finally beaten the y/h witch, deemed one of the brightest students at Hogwarts, and he was happy about it, but he felt he didn’t really care. In fact he missed the constant banter with you. He didn’t like the rivalry between you two either, but he still enjoyed playfully arguing with you over small things and seeing the competitive look in your eyes.

“L/n’s been pretty quiet recently,” James remarks, “I think you did it mate, I think you finally outsmarted her!” He laughs, clapping Remus on the back. The rest of the group looked unsure, especially Remus. Peter pipes up quietly, “I don’t know James, I saw her notebook just yesterday and she already had everything about today's lesson written down, there’s no way she could’ve been stumped.” Sirius rolls his eyes, “You guys can’t be that confused right?, y/n probably just got tired of this petty battle, they’ve been at it almost, what? Four years now? You can’t say you’re not tired, can you Moony?” Sirius rolls his eyes. Remus remains quiet, thinking it over. “I guess not, but for some reason I almost miss it, at least she talked to me then.” Remus sighs leaning back onto the couch in the common room. It was no secret to the Marauders that the shy brunette had accumulated feelings for his little rival over the years, secretly looking forward to DADA classes for the soul purpose of seeing you.

“Well you could try talking to her, y’know, normally?” James suggests with a shrug. Remus sighs “I guess, but you guys know I couldn’t, I could possibly put her in danger, or, what if I lose control and hurt her or worse-”

Sirius scoffs, “Oh sod off Moony, if this is about your, furry little problem, the last person you’d need to worry about is y/n, she’s a master in Defense Against the Dark Arts, not only would she be fine with it, but she she probably knows all about werewolves! Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if she already knew.” Sirius finishes, avoiding his friend’s shocked eyes at his small outburst, but someone had to say it. “Well- you have to admit he has a point.” Peter says turning back to Remus. “I’ve worked with y/n before for a project on werewolves bites, and she actually finds werewolves are misunderstood.” He continues.

Remus looks between his friends, and sighs, “I don’t have a choice but to give this a go, do I?” James grins, “c’mon Moony, you know, you two are practically made for each other!” He nudges his best friend, wiggling his eyebrows knowingly. “James!” Remus shoves his head into hands, a red blush coating his cheeks. “W-what should I even talk about? What if she doesn’t want to talk? Maybe she still hates me and I’d mess this all up if I talk to her!” Remus begins to ramble.

“What are you twats going on about?” A voice calls out, Lily emerges from the portrait door, oh no. “Moony’s got a crush!” James calls out. Remus shoots James a death glare, cursing the fact he was head over heels for y/n’s best friend. “Oh really? Who’s the lucky girl?” Lily laughs, walking over to the other gryffindors. Remus speaks before James can say anything else. “It doesn’t matter! Haha, how are you Lily?” He tries to steer the conversation away from his love life, but is unsuccessful. “Good..? Remus, what’s got you so nervous? I won’t tell, you know that.”

Oh, I don’t know, she's your best friend that probably hates me, that I pretended to hate for 4 years, you know, just things I talk about on the daily. Remus thinks to himself sarcastically. Lily’s mouth drops open. Oh shit he said that out loud.

“You fancy y/n?” Lily’s mouth remains agape. Remus winces, “Maybe? Is that a bad thing?” He questions, crossing his fingers for a good answer. “Well bloody hell Lupin, I did not see this coming that’s for sure!” The red-head lets out a laugh. “y/n almost never talks about her love life though so I can’t say much, just know that she’s never hated you, just got caught up y’know.” She plops down on the sofa across from the boys, Remus nods. “So, when did this happen?” Lily questions fixing her eyes on the shy boy. “W-well it’s hard to say really,” Remus furrows his brows, in thought, one memory stands out.

“One day, while I was studying, in second year I think, I noticed y/n sitting at another table scanning a textbook, and well, I felt different, she didn’t seem like the annoying girl in Defence Against The Dark Arts anymore, she was beautiful, and from there it only got worse.” Remus feels himself think back to that day, how your hair cascaded perfectly down your face, and how your lips were slightly parted while you read. He remembered his heart speeding up before he dashed out of the library, very confused. “Aw, that’s so sweet Moony.” Sirius teases making kissy faces at his friend. Remus feels his face heat up again. “Sirius quit teasing him, it’s cute!” Lily scolds the dark-haired Marauder, when suddenly her face lights up. “You know, y/n’s in the library, right now, you should go down and talk to her!” Lily suggests. James stands up and tugs on Remus’s arm to pull him to his feet. “Excellent idea my Lily flower, let’s go now!” Sirius and Peter stand and follow behind, ignoring Remus’s small attempts at objection. Lily catches up to Remus and James as they make their way out of the portrait door.

“Just be casual Remus, everything will be okay.” She reassures. It didn’t help Remus’s racing heart.

The group steps into the library and spots you at a table by a window, slowly scratching a quill against parchment. They walk closer to you and poke their heads around to look at you. You glance up at the Marauders, “Um, hi guys?” you greet awkwardly. “Good to see you y/n, hate to interrupt, but Remus wanted to talk to you.” James pushes the adorable brunette forwards before rushing off followed by Sirius, Peter and… Lily, you narrowed your eyes, what was going on? Brushing it off you look up at the gryffindor boy. “You can take a seat if you want Lupin.” You offer, picking your quill up again. “Oh, thanks y/n.” He sits in the chair right beside you. “Now how can I help you? If you need help with anything you can just ask.” You state scribbling down some notes in your notebook. “A-actually, um, I’d just like to talk to you y/n, about… You.” Remus begins to panic, did that sound right? Oh Merlin he was an idiot. You turn to him with a shocked expression.

“Me? Um- sure Lupin, ask away I guess?” You give him a small smile, “as long as we can talk about you too.” You add, feeling bold. Remus lights up, “Yeah, yeah. That sounds great! Alright, where did your love for Defense Against the Dark Arts come from?” He asks, genuinely interested. “Oh,” Your eyes light up. “My father is an Auror and throughout my childhood he’d tell me all about his adventures, and his victories fighting dark wizards and all that sort. I thought it was amazing, so I started to read all about it, wanting to be just like him once I grew up.” You grin broadly.

Your conversation continues, you talk about your childhoods, dreams, goals, ambitions and your favourite books. You learn a lot about the shy brunette boy you never really gave a chance too. You learn he has a love for chocolate, every single kind. He also loves books, enjoying muggle literature in particular, and that he also wants to become an Auror, to protect people and to help the world from dark magic. You found this very admirable and saw that little boy from your first DADA class in a different light. He wasn’t the annoying boy who stole all your thunder anymore, he was the boy that was also just trying to follow his dreams and help the people he loved. You smiled as you listened to him go on about a book he was currently reading, watching his eyes sparkle and his smile widen, it was strange thinking of Remus this way, sure you’d thought the brunette gryffindor was cute, but you’d always tried to shut yourself down when you thought of anything more, so when you found yourself hanging onto his every word and glancing down to his soft pink lips every now and again, you knew something was up. Your past self would’ve kicked you for this, but you found yourself giving into those inevitable feelings for Remus Lupin, and it just felt… Right. This change of heart left no doubt in your mind, and a light flush made its way onto your cheeks.

Remus could’ve sworn he was on cloud nine when he saw the beautiful pink blush come onto your cheeks, was he right? Did you feel the same? He was so happy to be talking to you about anything and everything that he didn’t even realize the Saturday sun turned into night and soon Madam Pince was pushing them out the door. The two of you laughed, taking a walk around the castle, neither of you wanting the conversation to end. You decided to stay in the Clocktower Courtyard for a bit, sitting next to each other on a bench. Remus watches you stare into the night sky, he sees your face relax and he smiles when he sees you close your eyes and take a deep breath of the night air. He thanked his lucky stars there wasn’t a full moon soon, or he would’ve missed this magical day with you. He lets a couple words slip out of his mouth he didn’t intend to say today. “You’re so beautiful y/n.” He sees your eyes widen and your face go pink. “Thanks Remus.” You say smiling back. Godric, his heart swelled when he heard you say his name. Not Lupin anymore, Remus. He felt himself lean in, years of yearning getting the better of him, and felt his forehead touch yours. “I’ve fancied you since second year you know?” He confessed suddenly, “that day you saw me run out of the library was the day I knew.” He saw a smile spread across your face. “Oh Remus that’s so sweet.” suddenly your eyebrows furrow. “Listen, I’m sorry about my arrogance. I was annoyed that you were just as smart as I was and I let a kid’s jealousy get in the way of really getting to know you and I want to apologize for that-” Remus cuts you off. “Darling, it’s alright, we were children, what matters is how you feel now.” Remus cups your hand in one of his, searching your eyes for any sign he should stop, “I- like you too Remus, I think I have for a while, just been to dumb to notice it.” You giggle, looking down at your interlocked hand. Remus places his fingers on your chin and lifts your face so you’re eye to eye again. He pauses, silently asking if this is alright. You nod and he grins, pressing his lips to yours, a rush of heat flows through your body and you're overwhelmed with happiness. Remus can feel he’s practically beaming into the kiss, he can’t believe it, he’s kissing you, he’s actually kissing you! The kiss is chaste at first, but you soon cup his face and pull him closer to you, reaching behind his head to run a hand through his soft curls. Remus sighs at the feeling and you take the opportunity to explore his mouth with your tongue, taking in the taste of chocolate and minty toothpaste. You pull back after a couple seconds, taking steady breaths. “Wow.” You murmur smiling at the boy in front of you. “Can we do it again?” Remus asks, still in a daze with a stupid grin on his face. You lean in again and can feel his lips brush yours before you hear whispers.

“Move over Pads, I can’t see!”

“Shove off James.”

“Ow, Peter that’s my foot!”

“Oh My Godric they kissed!”

There’s a loud crash. You look over to see Sirius, James, Peter and Lily in a pile on the ground, all sporting guilty looks on their faces. “Um- Congrats you two! We were just heading back to the common rooms!” Lily stutters out, removing herself from the pile and quickly walking off with the rest of the group hot on her tail.

You and Remus look at one another before bursting into a fit of laughter, unable to get the look on the group’s faces when they were caught out of your heads. Remus slowly stands up, offering a hand to you, “We should probably get going, love. It’s getting real dark.” You nod and take his hand. Remus pulls you close to him and you stand there for a couple more seconds, “You know, I still don’t believe this is happening, that this isn’t a dream, you’re really here in my arms.” Remus confesses nuzzling his nose to yours. You smile gently and press a kiss to his lips. “Well, you better get used to it, cuz I’m not going anywhere.” You quip gently, wrapping your arms slightly tighter around the handsome gryffindor. You can feel him tighten his arms around you as well. “There’s nothing I’d love more.” he whispers into your ear.

[nafeary]

Cuddles and Snuggles with the Ikevamp Suitors

Anon asked:

Hello 👋, can I have some really short and maybe flowery scenarios of the Ikevamp suitors cuddling? Just some cute little paragraph (that can turn smutty but doesn’t have to be) I really really like your style of writing, you see. Thank you!!!!

Heya! I love love love requests like these, they really make my day. Considering I didn’t want to give everything the same plot, I figured I’d just allow my creative freedom to run rampage.

I’m sorry I haven’t been posting much, but school is keeping me pretty busy (a week of holidays are coming up tho hehehehe). This has been sitting in my WIPs for an eternity, and I finished the last five bois today (it’s Sunday/Monday midnight by the time I’m scheduling this YEET).

I hope you’ll all manage to find some comfort in this, and I hope you’ll all enjoy (and remember to drink water~)

Also, I don’t care what Cybird says; Theo is 186cm and I do not take criticism on this.

Warnings: implied sexual intercourse (only for Leo tho), otherwise only toothrottingly sweet fluff... maybe angst, too. Blame Aki)

Napoleon Bonaparte

『laying siege to your heart』

Laughter prompted your body to tremor in delight upon seeing the form of your lover snuggling his blanket, spilling into the room in coaction with the afternoon rays streaming in buoyant ribbons. Napoleon lethargically peeked past his lashes, grinning as he grasped your hand to pull you into his awaiting arms.

Your head fit perfectly underneath his chin, your bodies an amalgamation of puzzle pieces enjoying their reunion. You allowed a few teasing quips to spill from your lips, regretting to have done so tout de suite as your body writhed beneath his butterfly kisses tickling your nape. The most darling sounding giggles encompasses your ears, eliciting some of your own as you tried your best to escape his tight embrace.

Eventually, he stilled, burying his face into the crook of your neck, and holding you for what felt like an entire eternity—no ounce of egomania weighed upon you, the fierceness of it brought forth by his sheer adoration for yourself. And even if he were to lay siege for an eternity, you couldn’t see yourself caring if you were pledged with no disparate treatment.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

『moonlight tryst』

If there was one thing you’ve come to cherish, it would be the time of the moon, when it reigned the sky in its eerie glory. You’ve never been able to see the stars’ purity, constellations clearer than ever before. Perchance, the appreciation stemmed from the company the firmament would gift you with, when the other half of your bed was frozen and weeping alongside you in abandonment. Yet, as you mused your loneliness, approaching echoes of heels hitting the tiled floor incited your gaze to leave the stars, instead turning to embrace the sight of your lover coming to join you to your tryst.

Stars melted into fervid streams of gems, pouring upon Wolf’s skin, hair, and eyes, aiding his appearance to leave you blinded beneath its ethereal irradiance. You picked up a ribbon le Comte had gifted you long ago, jesting the embroidered amethysts would gracefully accompany the composer’s own set of eyes; but the juxtaposition left you disenchanted at the blunt and transparent crystals, opting to tie his alabaster strands with it, shivering slightly as you parted a curtain over his nape.

He enfolded your hands with his, hastily trying to get it off. However, his lips were quickly claimed by his muse, pouring every emotion and feeling you could gather into it. You were glad for the minuscule distraction, even more so as his arms fell limp, succumbing to your passion—nay, not without teasing remarks, leaving your pounding heart at the wolf’s mercy, and carrying your cries into the night in concordance with the owls’ song.

Leonardo da Vinci

『the gift of light』

At times, your relationship felt like stumbling through an obsidian forest, the only object not the plunged into abyssal realms a map to show you the right path. The map knew everything, could achieve anything, would create the unimaginable, while you were left impotently relying one its guidance.

Leonardo was aware of these clouds obscuring your emotions, hindering your felicity, and he was unsure whether he should act upon it. Perchance, it would leave you in deeper misery, but he’d take the chance to undress the light in your eyes.

You essentially knew that that was what a relationship with Leonardo da Vinci would result in; after all, no one could possibly match his genius. Natheless, the string pinioning your souls was stubborn, and it would be near impossible for anything to deter you from this love.

As you straddled him, panting in exhaustion with sweat glistening like deep sea pearls across your bodies, he slid his hands past your ears, tugging on the ribbon keeping your hair up. They ran past your bare shoulders, a cascade of bougainvillea shadowing the outside world from seeing your lover’s flushed expression. With his hands still resting on your cheeks, he pulled you toward himself, capturing your lips with raw ardour. A gossamer simper slumbered onto his face just as the sun announced the arrival of dayspring, enkindling the forest in the light of dawn.

Arthur Conan Doyle

『cosy and secluded dancing』

A myriad of candles appeared to dance within the salon, frolicking in the gentle zephyrs through the opened window. The lovers exuded the impression of pure serenity, swaying in each other’s clutches in synchronisation with the flames.

A saxophone urged your feet to tap along the tiled floor, the beat accompanying the agute anecdotes Arthur shared with you. A simper blossomed on your face as the topic of them always managed to include yourself in some way or another; you’d taken notice of this the further you relationship wrote itself. And just like his words filled the paper with ease under the influence of his fountain of delight, so did the words pertaining to your mutual ardour.

As you allowed your lips to meet his nose, perplexity pulled your brows into a furrow—how anyone could just accept all the malicious comments of “mongrel”, “bastard”, and other vile slurs without retaliating in defense was beyond you, especially when a simple action like yours dissolved him into a fumbling mess, his footing faltering to and fro akin to the rustling branches outside. It was nothing but a mystery, but he was your mystery. And you had more than enough time to solve him, buoyantly filling the paper with breathings of your love along the way.

Vincent Van Gogh

『picnic in a flower meadow』

There was nothing but warmth—the ground, the breeze, the sun’s ever so gentle embrace on this bright autumn’s day, creating an atmosphere of absolute serenity.

However, the sun wasn’t the only one to embrace you. You felt your lover’s breathing gently caressing your face, his heartbeat beneath your head the sole sound next to the sunflowers’ ever so tranquil rustling.

Another breeze ruffled his flaxen tufts of hair, eliciting the tiniest of giggles as they brushed against his nose. As his hands rose up to brush your hair, he gifted to with the most brilliant grin, the epitome of an angel walking amongst mortals.

It made you nuzzle closer into his chest, inhaling the wonted scent of paint and dried sunflowers. Opting to enjoy these last moments of your picnic with the artist, your eyes fluttered close to the most ethereal sight on earth.

Theodorus Van Gogh

『unfeigned aftermath of a fight』

Ire was not strange to him, acquaintances till death, for sure. Nevertheless, these kind of manners didn’t appeal to him, but charading as the scapegoat for his brother’s wealth has made him into the devil’s advocate—and old habits hardly perish.

His hands caught the last few droplets of despair running down your chin, stroking your own pair of hands as he held you from behind. A few moments prior, he had shown you his quiet, oftentimes guarded, ardour, carrying these words to your ear. It left you nearly broken, the brush having stumbled across the artwork, red marks littering the void. But as fast as the shade spread, so did the greens and blues, the yellows and whites; if someone knew how to fix these mistakes, it was Theo himself.

In favour of his height, he straightened to place his chin atop your head, allowing you to lean into him. You couldn’t even remember what miscellaneous things you’d been fighting about, rendering your throats hoarse and your hearts wound; alas, as perilous as his clamours were, he never failed to apologise, whispering adorations as sweet as the saccharine treats he enjoyed.

Truly, as painful as some words could be, he always committed to proving you his worth. He just didn’t realize that that was irrelevant; after all, your devotion for him ran deeper than any slash could ever reach.

Dazai Osamu

『tranquil lazing in the garden』

Amidst the most delicate petals and the green leaves, the pond’s reflection of two twirling birds was similar to the lovers leaning against an oak, intertwined branches unable to release their hold.

You were situated between his legs, his broad chest acting as your pillow of comfort. It was a serene kind of purity, the meadow’s song—flora and fauna uniting to create a serenade of peace—coaxing your pair into a state free of despair and ire. That is, until he let his lips flutter down your exposed neck, prompting you to grip the flesh of his thighs a bit tighter.

The butterfly kisses didn’t appear to end anytime soon, not that you payed it much negative mind. A simper danced across both of your faces as a butterfly, with gossamer wings fluttering gently, landed on your lover’s finger, drawing a titter to resound throughout the garden.

He beheld your reach for the lepidopteran creature, the flaxen colours scintillant in your orbs. Perchance this little guy was an omen of genuine ebullience. However, certainty belay onto his thoughts, knowing that you were nothing but a sign of fortune, even to someone as tainted as himself.

Isaac Newton

『snuggles to chase away self doubt』

Unrelentingly, you pushed chocolate into his calloused hands, pledging that the tryto-something—“it’s tryptophan, darling”—would surely lift his solemn mood, clouds of doubt and pressure weighing upon him. He’d been used to the wallowing forlorn, solus; he’d been used to secluding himself apart from any comfort helping hands could give.

But now, now he’d been exposed to a star, more lucent than the North Star could ever dream to be, which shared its balmy rays with him, never imploring for anything in return.

As the slightly bitter treat melted in his mouth, he pulled the almost oneiric appearance of his sweetheart closer to him, your foreheads colliding together to display the sanguine shade of his fiery cheeks. Both of you chortled at his endearing ardency, finding yourself neglecting the light mound rising from the top of your head as you beheld his cherry blossom orbs.

He wasn’t a man of many words, his thoughts the stars he couldn’t fathom into constellations; and while all he could manage were the faintest pleas of gratitude, you knew that that was his crisp layer masking the dispatch of genuineness. Underneath, he was just as sweet and fulfilling as the fruit he so hastily denied. These obstinate and vexing thoughts pulled at the corners of his mouth, but you were swift in your endeavor to diminish them, letting your fingers glissade like zephyrs through the wild locks of salmon and ever so gently massaging him with their tips.

Jean d’Arc

『eskimo kisses and pep talks』

Jean oftentimes felt as if the world was weighing upon his lungs, threatening to suffocate him from the inside out. With his wings clipped and feet bound, all be could was sing in fear and cry for help, knowing he was undeserving of such feat. And yet, you were holding him closer than he’d ever been held before, kissing every scar, every painful remainder of his past, with the force of what could only be described as love.

He’d call himself vile names, thinking nothing much of it, and you’d never grasped what he meant. Moronic? His gentleness spoke of wisdom that many men could only dream of owning. Appalling? You would incessantly reassure him that his arms were your favorite place to while in, and that you wanted to feel his pulse through your veins. Ugly? His eyes met the moon and became almost prismatic as he claimed so, releasing that inhumanly beautiful hue of disenthralled, limitless amethysts, his skin reflecting the pale alabaster rays. How could a person so stunning and breathtaking be ugly? A person so kind and selfless?

Jean scoffed at your sentiment; withal, he allowed himself to succumb to his selfishness, brushing your nose with his own in an anguished assay to express his gratitude. You responded with a glee, succumbing to his endearing affection. He could only yearn for you to be able to withstand the barrel of infinity that he was bound to curse you with.

William Shakespeare

『interruptions ft puck』

You rose to the canorous breathing of your lover, nay, soulmate; that much was apparent judging by the euphoria encompassing your entire being at the sole mention of his name. It perplexed you how you were able to manage waking up to this empyrean sight without your heart granting the artist its last applause.

From his flushed checks, to his bare chest exposed to your own, to his lean arms reaching around yourself to tangle his fingers within your mane, more delicate and loving than the activities of the previous night required—you knew you were borne under a lucky star, whose only affiliation could possibly be be playwright claiming you his, cradling you with nothing but the zephyrs of a quiet twilight downpour.

You noticed a few candles he’d lit, most likely while you still rested, and they carried scents of raspberry sorbet, wafting around you in refreshing sprites. They were made my William himself, akin to the abundance of objects you’d sentimentally ramble about; and yet, he’d obstinately organise the most trivial things, no matter the obstacle of time and place.

Warmth engulfed your heart, your mind and being at how utterly cherished you were within his arms, and a few tears threatened their exeunt, but you suppressed your expression to the best of your ability, not wanting to worry him ignominiously. The fortunate appearance of your favourite character from the playwright’s own little story supported your despair de trop—even if he might not have intended to.

The little bunny hopped onto your lover’s head, staring down at you as if to mark his own territory. However, this attempt only prompted laughter to spill from your lips, and it amplified as William plucked Puck from his hair, placing him in midst of your tangled limps.

Comte de Saint-Germain

『napping in front of his fireplace』

The fireplace was ablaze, each scarlet flame radiating heat as the fumes frolicked in delight. With your legs angled to your lover’s lap and your fingers clutching his dress shirt, you were curled into the man’s side, the sofa cushioning your assay to sleep.

Your eyes fluttered open when you felt the snug quilt slide over your shoulders, meeting brilliant gold whose owner was busy with shielding you from the frigid cold. His hand released the fabric, instead opting to ever so carefully grasp your chin, as if frightened you were a withering rose.

Words of adoring troths danced on your lips, assuring him that you weren’t fragile, that he mustn’t fret upon your disappearance. He could only place a kiss between your brows, aware that silence weighed more than words ever could; his mirth was apparent as he pulled you closer to him, wanting nothing but to transcend time and space for his other half.

Sebastian

『oreos, milk, and ice cream』

There were certain difficulties when your heart belonged to two people, but even more so when it belonged to multiple places—or periods. Nevertheless, being employed to a time-traveling and immortal boss had its certain advantages.

You knew he longed for these items as much as you did, yet only organised them as you uttered these fantasies in a sleepy stupor. Enthusiasm spurring the atmosphere, you scooped the icy vanilla custard into crystalline bowls, improvident about the dampness coating your fingers. Before the fallen spoon could hit the ground, your lover caught it, trapping your back against his chest as he placed it back onto the counter.

His reverberating laughter prompted your own, enjoying the sensation of the flush body enbosoming your own. Arms winding across your chest, further strengthening the protective cocoon, a feather brushed your neck as he kissed with the ilk of cotton fields. You couldn’t halt the goosebumps from waltzing to the rhythm of his teasing, rather opting to stuff an Oreo past his appealing lips.

Tag list: @juminly @kisara-16 @sweetlittlemouse @thesirenwashere @nad-zeta @delicateikemenmemes

[fanfic-she-wrote]

Imagine being the reincarnation of Dracula's long lost love: Part 9

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

A couple hours later, the flames eventually died out, leaving the castle practically in ruins. You still hadn't moved and Dracula was beginning to lose hope that you would never move again. He picked you up and carried your limp body in his arms as he walked back to the castle. So much of it was burnt and fallen apart. There was a large gaping hole in the cieling where you could see into the sky above. Dracula noticed that it was nearly dawn. He just hoped that the dungeons were still in tact as they made their ways towards them with Henry and Van Helsing clearing the way, pushing aside the charred debris.

At this moment Dracula felt numb. His castle was a heap of burnt rubble and the love of his life was possibly dead forever. Luckily for him when he reached the dungeons it was untouched, not even by the mob. At least that was a good sign. He thought. But not much of one. In a room just off the staircase lay his coffin, it black with plush red lining, and inscribed on the top was his family crest. Henry lifted the lid and Dracula placed you gently inside.

"What do we do now?" Van Helsing asked.

"We wait." Dracula replied, looking down at your lifeless body.

He felt anger once again boiling over inside him. He clutched his fists so tight that his knuckles turned white and his nails cut into his palms.

The tension was so thick in the room you could cut it with a knife. The longer Dracula waited, the more he became angry. Angry that his love had been taken away from him again. Angry that no matter how much he wanted it, he would never find peace not from angry townsfolk, not from Van Helsing, and not even from himself.

Van Helsing watched him carefully, sensing his anger. This anger was different than before. For the first time, he actually felt a little frightened. Dracula could tear him apart like paper if he wanted to. It felt like waiting for a bomb to explode.

Finally it did and like a viper he grabbed Van Helsing by his collar, lifting him a couple inches off the ground. "This is all your fault!! " He growled.

"My fault?! I'm not a monster that goes around killing innocent townsfolk am I?! " Van Helsing choked, trying to pry himself lose, but to no avail.

"Get out before I kill you were you stand!" He hissed, releasing him.

"No, Im staying." Van Helsing refused, fixing his shirt. Dracula stepped toward him, baring his teeth, aiming to kill.

"If she wakes and finds me dead, she will never forgive you. You don't want to risk that do you?" He pointed out, trying to appear calmer than he felt.

Dracula hesitated for a moment. Why did she value his friendship so much? He wondered.

"If she wakes up I will let you go. If not, you better pray for a quick death." Dracula threatened, glaring at him.

"Master, where will you sleep?" Henry asked, changing the conversation.

"I can't sleep. Not now. I'll be fine as long as the sunlight can't find me." He answered.

Dracula bent down beside you and held your hand. It was so cold now. Only a couple hours ago it was warm and soft. It was almost hard to believe it had only been a couple hours, it felt much longer to him.

Henry yawned, unable to stay awake for another second. He took off his coat folding it into a makeshift pillow and rested his head on it against the cold floor. He missed his bed, but that went up in the fire. Stupid townspeople. He thought to himself as he fell asleep.

Van Helsing didn't sleep either, although he wanted to. He couldn't even remember the last time he actually had a good night's sleep. His thoughts kept him up most nights, mostly about creatures of the night, but sometimes his thoughts were of you. Like how cute you were when you crinkled your nose when you were thinking or how you used to laugh when he did something you deemed silly...the little things that made him fall in love with you. If only he had told you how he felt...at least you would have known. He forced tears back, but it was becoming extremely difficult as the hours passed and you didn't wake.

"I love her too you know." Van Helsing confessed.

"What?" Dracula sneered, glaring at him from over his shoulder, but Lawrence paid him no mind.

"Yes...for a long time. I never told her." He said his voice cracking.

"You're a fool!" Dracula scoffed. Van Helsing nodded in agreement.

"I suppose I am. Maybe if I had this never would have happened." He said with a sigh.

Dracula spun around to face him. "What do you mean by that?!" He snarled. Van Helsing got up off the floor where he sat and came face to face with him, staring into his cold, dark eyes.

"I think you know what I mean. If I told her than maybe she would be with me instead of being dead because she fell in love with you!" He accused, finally losing his temper.

"How dare you!" Dracula angrily spat, smacking Van Helsing hard into a wall. "She could never love someone like you!" Van Helsing rubbed his head, feeling dazed. "You're pathetic! Weak! A miserable excuse for a mortal!"

"Am I? I'm not the one that has to hide from the sun or cower in fear of the cross." Lawrence retorted, lifting himself back on his feet. He looked at you and took a deep breath, knowing that you wouldn't have wanted them to fight.

"So much blood has been spilled, Dracula. Haven't you had enough?" He asked, trying to reason with him.

"No. Not till I have spilled yours." He hissed.

"Then I guess we are destined to do this forever." Van Helsing sighed.

"Forever is short in the life of a vampire. But you will never see it. " He swore through gritted teeth.

"I don't want to see forever. I'm tired. I've seen enough death and despair to last several lifetimes. I will eventually die, but there are things that are worse than death." Van Helsing admitted. Dracula's face softened a little as he mulled over his enemy's words in his mind.

"Get. Out." Dracula said, turning away. He didn't want to admit it, but Van Helsing was right. Living forever did feel like a curse. There were many times he wondered what it was like to be really dead. It must be glorious...

"I would like to stay a little while longer..." Van Helsing started to ask, taking a small step toward Dracula.

"Don't push it Dr. Van Helsing. I'm letting you go alive. Don't make me change my mind." Dracula warned.

"May I have one last look at her then?" He asked. Dracula nodded stepping aside. Van Helsing slowly walked up to the coffin and reached inside to touch your hand. It was still cold as ice.

He felt tears well up in his eyes again. "I'm sorry Y/N...for everything. If only it were me in that coffin instead of you. You of all people on this Earth didn't deserve this." He whimpered before placing gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Goodbye."

As you lay there, you tried to call out to them to tell them that you weren't dead, but you couldnt. It felt like there was an invisible force controlling you, preventing you from moving at all. You couldn't even breathe, it was almost like you were drowning and your lungs were being filled to the brim with water. Everything hurt. Wherever you were it was pitch black. You were frightened. If only Vlad or Lawrence could help you, even Henry. You didn't even know why you were here...oh right you're dead. Is this what it was like to be dead?

From the darkness, a small voice said, "Go back."

"We must go back." It implored you, sounding desperate.

"We? Who is we?" You ask. Suddenly, a bright light appeared blinding you. Squinting, you could make out a strange, blurry figure and faint whispering could be heard emanating from within the light. As you looked closer, it became clearer and you realized who it was. It was Dracula. You tried calling out to him once more, but he couldn't hear you. His appearance was different. He looked younger and was significantly less pale. He had longer hair that fell to his shoulders, even his clothes were different. You saw behind him the castle the way it once was, like in your vision. Your heart skipped a beat when he turned to look at you, as though he just noticed you were there. Then you finally felt yourself move, but you weren't in control. It was like you were a puppet being pulled around on strings.

Dracula reached for you, pulling you into his warm embrace, which you gladly welcomed. "My dear Maria, how I've missed you." He said, kissing your cheek. Maria? Who's Maria? You wondered, feeling a twinge of jealousy.

"I've only been gone a few hours Vlad." You said to him.

"But to me it feels like an eternity." He told you, kissing you again. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Without warning, the light flashed again and you found yourself in a church. You did not recognize this place, yet it seemed to familar. Before you stood Vlad and behind him was...Lawrence? No it couldn't be?! It certainly looked like him. The face was the same, but the hair was different. It was only slightly shorter than Dracula's and he was sporting a goatee. He didn't look as happy as your beloved. In fact, he looked extremely bored. Was this a wedding?

You slowly walked up the isle towards them, feeling all eyes on you. You didn't even know who any of these people were. All you knew is that you wanted to get out of there. You glanced up at Vlad and saw how much love glimmered in his eyes and you felt your nerves instantly calm. The room just seemed to fade away and only he mattered. He held out his hand for you, helping you up the last remaining steps.

"You ready, my dear?" He whispered.

"Of course. I can't wait to start my new life with you. " You happily answered.

"As am I."

Then the scene disappeared again much to your disappointment, this time to something a little less happy...this time you found yourself in a duel against Van Helsing. At first you weren't sure if it was a friendly duel, but quickly realized that it very much wasn't. This was a duel that could only have one victor.

"It should have been me on the thrown! All of this should have been mine!" Van Helsing yelled, smashing his sword into yours with a loud clang that rung throughout the great hall. You parried and sent him flying backward with a hard kick.

"The thrown! The castle! You..." He lunged at you once more, but you blocked it and counter attacked. He twisted your blade around his and pulled you close, your faces inches apart.

"You could never have me." You spat, pulling away.

"You wouldn't have had a choice." He retorted with a sickening grin. You could feel the anger building up inside you. With a swift flick of your sword you slashed him in the face, leaving a deep cut in his cheek. He chuckled. You were a fiesty one. Too fiesty for your own good, he thought.

"That's the difference between you and Vlad," You began. "He doesn't tell me what to do."  And with that you swung at him once more, this time breaking his sword in two. You held your sword to his neck.

You caught a glimpse of your reflection in the blade. That's when it dawned on you. You were Maria, Dracula's wife, and you remembered him telling you that you looked like her. It all made sense now. This is why you were having these visions. They are your own memories. Could it be that you and Maria are one in the same?

"Surrender traitor." You hissed, your blade mere inches away from his throat.

"I am no traitor." Van Helsing said.

"Fine then, a coward."

He rolled his eyes."At least I fight my own battles. Where's your beloved now?" He pointed out, looking smug.

"Fixing your mistake. Don't think I don't know what you've done. Vlad might trust you, but I sure as hell don't." You stated, inching your blade closer to his neck.

"And what will he say when he finds out that you've killed me?"

"The truth. He has no reason to doubt me." You answered confidently.

"Well, we'll find out sooner than you think." Confused you followed his eyes over to where Dracula now stood.

"What is this?!" He asked looking at the both of you.

"Vlad, he is a traitor. I caught him giving information to the Turks. He is league with the enemy." You explained. While you were distracted, Van Helsing quickly pulled a small dagger from within his sleeve and slammed it deep into your stomach. You dropped your sword falling to the floor alongside it writhing in pain. Dracula's heart stopped. It felt like time had slowed down as he ran to you and held you in his arms.

"Maria, no..." He let out a small cry, running his hand over your wound.

"I had to do something...I love you Vlad. I told you the day I married you that I would do anything for you." You told him, cupping his cheek.

"Then don't leave me...I can't live without you." He whimpered, sensing the end was coming for you.

"We will meet again, my love." You promised, sealing it with a quick kiss as the life faded from your body.

You could feel everything fading away again as you returned to the darkness. You mind was dizzy from everything you had just witnessed. It all felt so strange...

"Go back." The voice repeated again.

"He needs you. Go back!"

Suddenly, you felt whatever was holding you back had finally released you. Eager to get out of there you ran through the darkness hoping to find a way out. You didn't know where you were running, but you had to try. The darkness seemed endless and just as you were about to give up, the ground gave way below your feet and you finally woke up.

You gasped for air feeling as though you were drowning. You sat up clutching your throat, trying to catch your breath. Why was it so hard to breathe?

"Y/N?! Dracula gasped. He couldn't believe it. You were alive. It worked! It wasn't too late after all!

"Y/N! You're alright! Thank God." Van Helsing sighed in relief, smiling like he never smiled before.

"You!?" You exclaimed, backing away from him, your past memory still fresh in your mind. He looked at you feeling confused and hurt. Before Van Helsing could say anything, Dracula appeared at his side reaching out to you.

You looked over at him, eyes wide. "Vlad...I...I remember." You breathed.

"What?" He asked. "What do you remember?

"Everything."

[colehasapen]

(ONE SHOT) fit two people under your skin  STAR WARS

Febuwhump Day 1 - Brainwashing

A03

Alpha-17 doesn’t believe in monsters.

He’s lived through too much in his life to believe in the creatures under the bed, or those that creep through the dark hallways and eat unsuspecting cadets. He’s seen real monsters, he’s seen cruelty and violence. He’s seen real life, and nothing can scare him more than that, but he comforts himself with the knowledge that everything dies, that he can fight to the death if he has to. He knows the pain of being taken apart piece by piece, of being tortured past his limits, of watching so many vode marching off to the death. He knows the pain of losing good men that he trained personally, the pain of losing those he raised himself from childhood.

He knows the pain that comes from not having done enough.

Millions of vode are dead, millions more will die, and Alpha is almost numb to it. He’s lost enough that it no longer surprises him.

But he’s never had anyone come  back from the dead, and yet, here he is.

Months ago, Alpha had been brought back to the warfront by the death of his little brother, one of the boys he had trained and raised from childhood to be one of the best. He had been on Kamino when news had reached him that Marshal Commander Cody had died in the line of duty, and he had immediately felt the world drop out from beneath him. Cody -  Kote  - the youngest and smallest of Squad 17, his  vod’ika  ,  his ad’ika ; his pride and joy. Cody had been one of his, he had watched him grow into the man he was, and Alpha had thought, had hoped, that out of any of them, that Cody would make it to the end of this Manda-forsaken War. Cody had been a leader, a viciously competent warrior that put even other A-classers to shame. He may have only been a CC, but Alpha would bet anything that he’d be able to beat even a Null into the ground if given the chance.

He had never imagined Cody being just another name on a KIA list.

Cody could have been their leader, had the spirit needed to be Mand’alor. He had a natural charisma that made people  want to follow him, a strength to his soul that shone like fire in his eyes. He could be beaten, but he’d never break.

But he’d still died. He had died and left his 212th without a Commander.

Eventually, Alpha had managed to hunt down the troopers that had survived the mission that had killed one of his boys. Had tracked them down during shore leave and demanded to know what had happened. They couldn’t tell him much, because of the confidential status of the mission, but eventually a pale-faced and haunted Echo had spoken up, staring down at his alcohol like it could take the nightmares away.

“It should have been me.” The young ARC Trooper had whispered, looking close to tears, and Fives had gripped his brother’s hand like a lifeline. “I had gone for the shuttle - Cody - he saw what was about to happen before any of us. He saved me. He threw me out of the way and took the blast instead.”

Alpha had volunteered as soon as he could, had hunted General Kenobi down and put his name forward as his next Commander. He knew what his  ad’ika  would have wanted; he’d want Alpha to teach and protect his men where he couldn’t, to lead his Ghosts and 7th Sky. He’d trust Alpha-17 to watch his  Jetii’s back, to be at his side when he couldn’t, because Alpha wasn’t blind - he knew what his Kot’ika thought of General Kenobi, knew what he’d felt for him. He had seen the way Cody had looked at Kenobi, had known that they’d work well together when he’d suggested Cody as the Commander for Kenobi’s Battalion, even if he’d never imagined his little brother actually falling in love with the man.

Despite how much it hurt to stand in his place, Alpha had put himself forward, had painted his armour gold, and taken the title of Commander. It fits like an ill-fitting body glove, but Alpha wears it, because it’s what Cody would have wanted. He could keep up with Kenobi better than any shiny commander could, could call the Jedi out on his bullshit and keep him and his men safe. He knows it hurts Kenobi too. He knows that sometimes Kenobi turns to him expecting Cody to be there to a witty quip or a sarcastic smirk, and he sees the way he falters when it’s Alpha there instead.

The troopers are the same. Alpha knows they respect him, that they look up to him, but he’s not Cody, and they all know it. Over the months though, they’d learned how to work together; he’s glad it was him who had taken over for Cody, because he recognizes a lot of the signs of his own training in the way the 212th troopers move, no doubt passed on by Cody. They don’t move the way CTs are expected to move, instead Alpha can see his own personalized ARC training shining through in them, and he knows that any other commander wouldn’t have been able to keep up. As the months pass, he whips them into shape, distracts them from their grief, and keeps them moving.

And then rumours of the Seperatists’ newest asset reaches them. Until Umbara, no one sees it, but they hear the rumours spread by the small numbers of survivors left behind. Some sort of new droid made to look like a clone in black armour, that never speaks, never hesitates, and always wins. Until Umbara, its nothing more than a ghost story, a monster in the night, but Alpha had never believed in monsters, it was just another clanker that he’d destroy if he faced it on the field.

It was called many things; monster, assassin, dark trooper, but Alpha would know it as another target.

And then Umbara happened. The asset had killed Krell, had saved the lives of the 501st troopers that the  dar’jetii  was tormenting. It had killed  only  Krell, had torn the Besalisk apart, and then walked away; it hadn’t even  touched the clones, had barely even looked at them before leaving. Rex had come to him afterwards, baring footage of the fight between the asset and the General, an odd look on his face.

“It fights like a vod, Alpha.” Rex had said, sounding confused and lost as they’d watched the footage over and over again, looking to learn the clanker’s fighting style to better combat it in battle. “It fights like  you do.”

Watching the figure in black and gold armour, styled mockingly after his own, a kama swinging around it’s waist and a gold pauldron on it’s shoulder, Alpha couldn’t help but agree. It did fight like a clone; specifically, it fought like one of the cadets Alpha had trained personally. It was reckless, throwing itself into battle without a care, twisting into powerful kicks and using its blaster like a club in ways that Alpha specifically remembers one of his cadets doing, something that had driven Alpha to a frothing rage.

Cody.

It fights like  Cody.

He hadn’t voiced it at the time, had stewed in his rage at the insult aimed towards his dead  vod’ika. A droid that fought like Cody, a droid that had the exact same shade of orange-gold as his  vod’ika had chosen for his Battalion. It was an insult and an affront on everything Alpha stood for. He’d held on to that anger, had let it burn hot and harsh in his gut, knowing that the moment he faced the clanker on the battlefield, that he’d  destroy it.

He would tear it apart for the insult it symbolized. To know that the Seperatists were perverting his brother’s memory in such a way lights a fire in him that refuses to burn out.

And then he gets the chance to fight the asset. He fights it one on one, intent to destroy it and avenge his little brother, when the bucket comes off and Alpha’s heart stops. All he can think of, is that that’s a face glaring up at him, a familiar face with a familiar scar. He barely remembers the chaos that had followed.

Cody.

Somehow, the asset is Cody.

Somehow, they’d managed to get the asset -  Cody, his Kote - sedated and transferred onto the  Negotiator. It had hurt all of them to need to restrain him, to strip away black plastoid to reveal prosthetics and burns. They’d gotten him back to the ship, into the medbay and under the medics’ hands, and they’d found a  chip in his head.

And now, Alpha is staring down at the limp body strapped down to the biobed, ankles, hips, chest, and arms pinned to the bed by unforgiving metal, to make sure he wouldn’t attack again when he woke up. It’s still Cody. He’s missing both his legs at the thighs, there’s metal drilled into his spine and up the back of his skull. There’s a blinking monitor embedded into his chest, scarred skin growing around it, flashing with his heartbeat. They’d shaved him, put a cybernetic implant on the side of his head, over where his ear should be and stretching around his temple to interrupt the curving, hooked scar that had become his little brother’s visual marker of individuality, the one Alpha personally remembers tending to, right before pulling Cody into ARC training to ensure that Priest and Reau wouldn’t get their hands on him again. He’s covered in twisting, healing burn scars, left from the explosion they had all believed to have killed him, and there’s dark bruises standing stark against brown skin.

Bruises that Alpha had put there, when he’d nearly broken his brother’s neck while fighting him. When he had thought that Cody was a droid programmed to fight like him.

He'd nearly killed his little brother, the boy he'd raised, and he never would have known if he hadn't accidentally knocked his helmet off.

“Manda.” He breathes harshly, nostrils flaring, and he drops down into the chair Pace had put next to Cody’s bed. He ignores the medic’s eyes drilling into the side of his head, instead reaching out to gently squeeze Cody’s limp hand like he had when Cody had been a too-small child enduring too-cruel punishments in the place of more replaceable brothers. “What can you tell about the chip?”

Pace scowls, “It only showed up on a level five atomic scan.” He says, “We only found it because we were trying to find out the cause of the strange brain activity we were picking up - it showed up as a tumour, but once we removed it -” he gestures to the petri-dish next to the biobed, “- we found  that.”  ‘That’ being an ugly scrap of what looked like flesh, pink and pocketed and flecked with old blood. “Removing it from the frontal lobe stopped the strange brain signals we were picking up, and his waves went back to baseline - what you could expect from a regular clone.” Alpha tears his eyes away from Cody’s peaceful face to glower at the strange object. “We don’t have any proof, won’t until we can see how he acts when he wakes up, but Crys thinks it could have been controlling him.”

Alpha lets out a harsh curse, “Fucking seppies.”

“Yeah.” Pace murmurs, then shifts. “Commander,” he says slowly, enough of something odd in his tone that it makes Alpha look up to meet his gaze, to see them dark with anger, “whatever it is - that chip? It wasn’t made by the Seps.”

“What?” Alpha’s eyes narrow dangerously, and Pace nods, glowering at nothing as he rubs a hand aggressively against the gray fabric of his uniform.

“It gives off a different signal than the… prosthetics -” he says the words with furious contempt, like the sentence is rotten on his tongue, “- they drilled into him.”

Alpha snarls, baring his teeth like a cornered animal as he grips Cody’s clammy hand protectively, like he could destroy whatever did this to him with his will alone. “Who  do I need to kill for what they did to him?”

“Sir.” Pace’s voice is just as dangerous, “Whatever it is? It’s  Kaminoan.”

Taglist: @a-mediocre-succulent @yellowisharo @spoofymcgee @roseofalderaan @everything-or-anything @bellablue42

[basilisklist]

harry/voldemort (m/m)

“Haunted and Hunted” (2 part series) by ObsidianPen

-Mine (30,168 words) complete

-Hauntingly (162,488 words) in progress

harry/voldemort

Mine- “After the incident at the Department of Mysteries, Lord Voldemort discovers what Harry Potter is. He reaches out to his human horcrux through dreams, and the course of the Second Wizarding War is forever altered.”

“A dark fairy tale.”

Hauntingly- “What wouldn't I do to place my hand against your chest; to feel your heart beating strong, your breath is my soul, your pulse is my song.”

“A story of obsession.”

Haunted and Hunted - ObsidianPen - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Custos Vitae” by silver_Ivy

(55,814 words) in progress

harry/voldemort

“Harry can’t let his friends die like Sirius. Crushed under Voldemort’s war until everyone that he loves becomes mangled corpses. So, Harry casts a ritual that will slowly kill him in order to afford them safety. It doesn’t matter what happens after that, but being captured by Lord Voldemort wasn’t what he had in mind.”

Custos Vitae - Chapter 1 - Silver_Ivy - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Two Words in Green Ink” by Fluorescencx

(91,227 words) in progress

soulmate tattoos

harry/voldemort

“Eleven year old Harry didn't know how he knew--he didn't even know what it was he knew--but as he stood in Olivander's shop with Hagrid, he vowed that he would never tell a soul about the two words written on his wrist.”

“Avada Kedavra.”

“a story of souls told in three parts”

Two Words in Green Ink - Chapter 1 - Fluorescencx - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“The Fall” by Lostfadingthoughts

(67,457 words) in progress

harry/voldemort

harry/draco

“A last minute desperation causes the downfall and kidnapping of Harry Potter. Instead of killing him, Voldemort decides to keep him but why won't he talk to Harry? Why does that bother Harry at all? Alternate route from the Forbidden Forest scene.”

The Fall - Chapter 1 - Lostfadingthoughts - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“The Left Words” by authoresswithoutwords

(234,787 words) complete

soulmate tattoos

harry/voldemort

“Harry has some weird words on his left wrist. That must be one of those strange things that Aunt Petunia hates so much. But it's okay! He likes them. Then, it all turns even weirder. Hogwarts, magic, a Headmaster and a Dark Lord await Harry - he would prefer if they all just left him alone, thank you very much. But when has it ever mattered what Harry wants?”

The Left Words - Chapter 1- Authoresswithoutwords - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“But I Can Break You” (2 part series) by NeuroWriter14

-But I Can Break You (82,942 words) complete

-Nineteen Years Later (3,780 words) complete

harry/voldemort

But I Can Break You- “Voldemort figures out that Harry is his unintentional human horcrux and finds a way to infiltrate Hogwarts under Dumbledore's nose to try to get his hands on Harry Potter.”

Nineteen Years Later- “Nineteen years after the fall of Voldemort, Harry and Tom are living their best lives together.”

But I Can Break You - NeuroWriter14 - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Take me away” by selfproclaimed_princess

(56,501 words) in progress

harry/voldemort

“Giggling turns into a laugh as he goes ballistic, laughing so hard that he coughs up blood. ‘Just my luck, here i am lying on this fucking bed with blood loss and the great dark lord decides to pay me a visit!’ He says gleefully, voice raspy.”

“Voldemort sneers at Harry. ‘Potter. Have you truly lost your damn mind?’ He spits out.”

“‘Well, hello to you too. Here to kill me, Tom?’ He says, sitting and leaning his frail body on the wooden wall.”

Take me away - Chapter 1 - selfproclaimed_princess - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Elusion” by Quillbreaker

(175,405 words) in progress

harry/voldemort

“Harry knows that he is dying. He just wants to elude Voldemort until death catches up with him.”

Elusion - Chapter 1 - Quillbreaker - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Things I love in this World” by awesome122316

(131,741 words) complete

harry/voldemort

“Harry's life is hard, but when he suffers another loss, he is pushed to the edge and intends to be killed at Voldemort's hand to end everything he hates in the world, but something unexpected happens.”

Things I love in this World - Chapter 1 - awesome122316 - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“occulta proditione” by goldenhjp

(25,174 words) in progress

harry goes back in time to his past self

vampire harry

harry/voldemort

“Waking up in the past in his fourth year, Harry finally gets the chance to start his life over. His friends and everyone he knew betrayed him and he will get his revenge. Even a Dark Lord hanging around him won't dampen his mood.”

occulta proditione - Chapter 1 - harryxtomr - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Family Trait” by livanainen [archieved by HPFandom_archivist]

(159,571 words) complete

harry/voldemort

harry/draco

“Harry is alone at Privet Drive, doing practically nothing until Voldemort pops up in his head. Being lonely, and Voldemort insisting in not leaving, they talk. Harry finds out a few facts he didn’t know, leaving him both confused and crying, and excited. What will the Gryffindor Golden Boy do when he’s coming to stay at Riddle Manor for the summer, and learn exactly how far Dumbledore’s manipulations go?”

Family Trait - Chapter 1 - HPFandom_archivist - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“To Kill You With a Kiss” by Paimpoint

(88,791 words) complete

time travel

harry/voldemort

“After Dumbledore's death, Harry searches for answers in the Pensieve. But something goes wrong. Trapped inside a memory, Harry finds himself back at Hogwarts in 1945 where he meets an 18 year old Tom Riddle teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

To Kill You With a Kiss - Chapter 1 - Paimpont - Harry Potter - Fandom

“REST IN SILENCE” by RewriteParagraph

(168,854) words

harry/voldemort

“‘Oh, there are many things I could do with you Harry.’ The undertone of his words rang through the air like a crack of a whip and Harry flinched. ‘And with the Horcrux embedded within you.’”

“‘Try it. See what happens.’ Potter seethed.  Then Voldemort charged forward in a blink. After they both danced upon the bones of his father, Voldemort discovers Harry Potter is the seventh Horcrux he never intended to make. This changes everything.”

“A ceasefire is agreed, Harry Potter is collateral - the target of Voldemort's newest, most potent obsession and, Death has come knocking.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21020798/chapters/50246147?utf8=%E2%9C%93&selected_id=49996529&commit=Go

“Second Chances” by Slayer_of_Destiny

(100,607 words)

mpreg

harry/voldemort

“Fate decides to play with Harry's life again, giving him a chance at a family but with the most shocking father for his child. After the Order lock him up Harry flees to the father where they both may get a second chance.”

Second Chances - Chapter 1 - Slayer_of_Destiny - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Deadly Eyes of a Phoenix Reborn” by Watermelonsmellinfellon

(196,795 words) complete

harry/voldemort

harry/viktor krum

“In the summer after his second year, something unexpected happens to Harry. Changes are occurring, though he doesn't know it. What will he do when he realizes that the Basilisk venom and the Phoenix tears are turning him into something new entirely? How will this change the outcome against Voldemort? What will happen?”

Deadly Eyes of a Phoenix Reborn - Chapter 1 - Watermelonsmellinfellon - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“In Somno Veritas” by ansketil, ladyoflilacs

(158,090 words) complete

harry/voldemort

“‘Are you often in my dreams, Harry? I have not touched your mind since our little encounter at the Department of Mysteries...and yet here you are... saving me in my nightmares.’”

In Somno Veritas - Chapter 1 - ansketil, ladyoflilacs - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Silk Roads” by GenderlessPerson

(155,760 words)

harry/voldemort

“When the road you're on is already on the verge of crumbling, you could either choose to foolishly continue onward, or turn back and change paths. Harry decided on the latter.”

Silk Roads - Chapter 1 - GenderlessPerson - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“The Consequences of A Binding Ritual” by teacup_angel

(171,023 words)

harry/voldemort

“Forced to be the fourth champion in the Triwizard Tournament and shunned by Hogwarts and the rest of the Wizarding World, Harry finds comfort in the silence of the Chambers of Secrets. Explorations of the Chambers turns up more rooms and information than he expected. One of which is a ritual that is called 'Slytherin Binding Ritual'. Thinking it meant binding Salazar Slytherin's ghost to him and thinking 'meh, not like I'm gonna lose anything', Harry performs the ritual without even thinking of researching more about it. He forgot one of the most important thing in the world. He's Fate's personal chew toy.”

The Consequences of A Binding Ritual - Chapter 1 - teecup_angel - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Save Yourself” by sunshineglow118

(85,919 words)

harry/voldemort

“This summer was the breaking point for Harry Potter. On top of the verbal and physical abuse he went through, he now has to compete in a competition he did not sign up for. Harry's 'friends' have abandoned him, his teachers not believing him and he is left to fend for himself. Harry sneaks down to the Chamber of Secrets to release tension and panic in private but ends up discovering Slytherin's Personal Library. Armed with magic, shielded by a Horcrux he discovers inside himself, Harry vows to no longer become victim to manipulation. In doing so, Harry breaks the hold that was on his magic, discovers his creature inheritance and maybe ends up saving the world with his so thought enemy.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9710798

“Miracle of Deliverance” by Ellia Bronsky

(56,603 words)

mpreg

harry/voldemort

“Harry Potter gets captured by Death Eaters. An accidental encounter during his time in captivity leads to an unexpected outcome, as well as some shocking revelations turning Harry's world upside down.”

Miracle of Deliverance - Ellia Bronsky (Ellia_Bronsky) - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“The Definition of Insanity” by Anacharis

(56,887 words)

master of death

harry/voldemort

“An infinitesimal change at Malfoy Manor results in the early discovery that Harry has become Master of Death. What will the Boy Who Lived do with Death itself as an ally? Haunt the Dark Lord like a fucking ghost and cram humanity down his throat, of course. A sexy black comedy.”

The Definition of Insanity - Chapter 1 - Anacharis - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“The Snake in the Lion’s Den” by JasminSky

(95,720 words)

harry/voldemort

“‘Ah, Professor Quirrell…or should I say Lord Voldemort?’ One question with which one world ends while another begins. Harry Potter steps through the flames of the last obstacle on the way to the Philosopher's Stone in order to vanquish Voldemort as everyone thinks. On the other hand…does he?”

The Snake in the Lion's Den - Chapter 1 - JasminSky - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Kitten Troubles” by Ttiiggeerr

(40,814 words)

harry/voldemort

“During the Final Battle Voldemort is turned into a kitten and Harry takes him home thinking he's a homeless, motherless kitten. Will Voldemort stay like this forever? Will Harry figure out who it is? And what will happen when he finds himself caring about the one person he was supposed to hate?”

Fanfic: Kitten Troubles Ch 1, Harry Potter

“Chimera” by shadowscribe

(35,304 words)

harry/voldemort

chi·me·ra (noun): “a thing that is hoped or wished for but in fact is illusory or impossible to achieve; an impossible dream.”

“Harry Potter arrives at Hogwarts on September 1, 1991 and is everything the wizarding world expects. He is the Boy Who Lived: a brave, brash Gryffindor who will stand as a beacon for the Light. It's almost a pity that it's all a lie.”

“(OR: Harry is taken from the Dursely's by a resurrected Voldemort and raised by loyal Death Eaters. To the world he's the Light's Golden Boy but his true self exists beneath a delicate bone mask and stands as the Dark Lord's equal)”

Chimera - Chapter 1 - shadowscribe - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“on top of the world” by amillionhopes

(46,687 words)

harry/voldemort

“The moment when he appeared on that rooftop, the wind blowing in his hair, the people below him like ants… that was when he became different. or a Harry that has ambitions and refuses to settle for anything less than to be the best.”

on top of the world

“nevermind the end” by slexenskee

(76,754 words) complete

harry/voldemort

“Meanwhile, Harry and Voldemort have a lot of sex. This started out as serious non-con porn and then somehow ended up with hardcore feels and a possible existential crisis.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3099083

“Boredom and Secrets” by XxXxDarkVampirexXxX

(40,701 words)

harry/voldemort

“A very bored Harry Potter starts writing to the Dark Lord over the summer after his fifth year at Hogwarts. An equally bored Voldemort decides to write back. And thus, a summer of secrets is born, and the enemy named boredom is fended off.”

Boredom and Secrets - Chapter 1 - XxXxDarkVampirexXxX - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Embracing His True Self” by DebsTheSlytherinSnapefan

(503,597 words)

harry/voldemort (tom)

“What if Harry didn't want to fight Voldemort? What if he was fed up with the light side judging him constantly and wants to be his true self? The Slytherin side that he had squashed in a bid to fit in and be accepted? Realizing he never would...what of the prophecy? Could they overcome it? Will Voldemort even give him a chance?”

Embracing His True Self - Chapter 1 - DebsTheSlytherinSnapeFan - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“His Twenty-Eighth Life” by Lomonaaeren

(224,782 words)

harry/voldemort

“Harry Potter  has been reborn again and again into new bodies as the Master of Death, some of them not human, none of them exactly like his old one—but he has always helped to defeat Voldemort in each new world. Now he’s Harry Potter again, but his slightly older brother is the target of the prophecy, and Harry assumes his role is going to be to support Jonathan in his defeat of Voldemort. At least, that’s what he thinks until Voldemort comes that Halloween night, discovers what Harry is, and kidnaps him. The story of a long fight between Voldemort’s sadism and Harry’s generosity.”

His Twenty-Eighth Life - Chapter 1 - Lomonaaeren - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Surrender” by Paimpont

(66,670 words) complete

harry/voldemort

“Harry writes a letter of surrender to Voldemort. The Dark Lord is intrigued.”

Fanfic: Surrender Ch 1, Harry Potter

“Possession” by Jade Tatsu

(122,861 words) complete

harry/voldemort

“The Dark Lord has always known what belongs to him but claiming possession might take longer than he thought and lead to betrayal but with the power such as he wields who dares?”

Fanfic: Possession Ch 1, Harry Potter

“A Snake Named Voldemort” by estalita11

(173,220 words) complete

harry/voldemort

“After being turned into a snake and unable to change back, Lord Voldemort is forced to turn to the only other living Parselmouth, Harry Potter. After making a deal, Harry agrees to help the Dark Lord return to his human form.”

A Snake Named Voldemort - Chapter 1 - estalita11 - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Eye of the Beholder” by TheSecretUchiha

(65,683 words)

harry/voldemort

“For years it remained hidden behind a patch, his glimpse into another life. But when he reaches Hogwarts, this sight, and the mind it leads him to, will help him see the other side of the playing field.”

Fanfic: Eye of the Beholder Ch 1, Harry Potter

“Paradise Lost” by Neka-chan -Silvered Tongue

(96,214 words)

harry/voldemort

“With one question posed to the Sorting Hat, Harry Potter's life changes completely.”

Fanfic: Paradise Lost Ch 1, Harry Potter

“Either must die at the hand of the other” by Metalomagnetic

(89,431 words) in progress

harry/voldemort

“Voldemort survives the Battle of Hogwarts because Harry Potter had not been the one to kill him, as the prophecy demands.”

Either must die at the hand of the other - Chapter 1 - Metal Magnetic - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Butterfly” by AislingSiobhan

(201,697 words) complete

harry/voldemort

harry/lucius

“When Harry was 5 he had a pet butterfly. The butterfly could turn into a man who lived in Harry’s basement. That man killed Vernon when Harry turned 8. That man is a Death Eater who has been training Harry in how to be a proper Pureblood Heir. Harry was always told he was a bit like a Caterpillar and one day he’d be a Butterfly too. Sorted into Ravenclaw, when he starts Hogwarts, Harry learns that sometimes it’s much harder to keep secrets than it is to tell lies. But it could be worse: he could have been a Slytherin. As if enough people didn’t look at him funny already!”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/391351/chapters/642269

“An I for an I” by lordmarvoloriddle

(27,825 words) complete

harry/voldemort

“After the war, Harry learns there’s no such thing as a normal life. At least not for him.”

An I for an I - Chapter 1 - lordmarvoloriddle - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Contractual Obligations” by DobbyRocksSocks

(28k words)

harry/voldemort (tom)

“Voldemort proposes Marriage as a substitute to war. Yes, this story will be as ridiculous as it sounds.”

Fanfic: Contractual Obligations Ch 1, Harry Potter | FanFiction

“Balance” (3 part series)  by Drops_of_Nightshade

- The Courtesan (137,004 words) complete

- The Consort (101,321 words) complete

- Alternative Universe: The Consort (13,964 words) in progress

harry/voldemort

The Courtesan- “In the prejudiced world where the Dark Lord won, Harry Potter is part of the servile caste, the lowest caste in the new society. Resigned to a life of servitude as a Courtesan, Harry is instead drawn under the wing of the Dark Lord himself. Between the scheming Order and his powerful benefactor, Harry finds himself steadily drawn deeper into the growing conflict.”

The Consort- “Harry has embraced his position as the Dark Lord's future husband. Graduation from Hogwarts, his marriage, and political threats are on the horizon. Harry navigates the complex world of pureblood society and traditions while paving the way for change in a world where the Dark Lord reigns supreme.”

Alternative Universe: The Consort- “Leaning against his husband with a sigh, Harry rubbed his belly absently, imagining another child running through the corridors of the Citadel. He couldn’t help the warm, fluttery feeling in his chest, in spite of the fatigue his children sometimes brought him. Parenthood was challenging and at times unpleasant; that was the raw truth of it. Yet it was also rewarding, and Harry would not change a thing.”

Balance - Drops_of_Nightshade - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Dreams and Darkness Collide”  by Epic Solemnity

(215,747 words)

harry/voldemort

“Though he was raised without the expectation of saving the world, Harry still possesses a savior complex. Only, it's so dark and twistedly immoral, he created an alter ego to practice vigilantism. His second identity makes a name for himself and immediately ensnares Minister Riddle's complete and obsessive attention. A game of cat and mouse begins and morals are questioned.”

“JK Rowling’s once said: ‘That if Merope had lived and raised Voldemort, he would have turned out to be much different, probably a better person.’ But just how much different? And how much different would Harry be if he was given a life without the expectation of saving the world? How different would he be if his hero-complex was still intact, but so consuming, so twistedly dark, that he had to go through desperate means to hide it?”

Fanfic: Dreams and Darkness Collide Ch 1, Harry Potter

“How We Survive” series by twighlightshadow

- How We Survive: The Runaway (40,439 words) complete

- How We Survive: Winds of Change (31,544 words) complete

harry/voldemort

“An attack on the Dursleys left Harry to fend for himself. Years later, an overheard conversation results in new challenges which may prove impossible in the long run, such as remaining hidden in plain view, learning to trust again, and staying alive.”

Author: twighlightshadow

“Serpentine” by Steeltalon

(79,559 words abandoned

harry/voldemort

“Harry Potter was abandoned by his relatives the day they found him. He's raised on the streets and taught to distrust all adults. It's going to be a very different person than Dumbledore was expecting who shows up at Hogwarts…”

Fanfic: Serpentine Ch 1, Harry Potter

“A Life Alone” by Snuffdragon

(190,677 words) complete

harry/voldemort

“Harry learns of the prophecy from Petunia at the age of eight and escapes to the streets when the house is attacked. Trying to hide his true identity, can he live on his own? Full summary inside.”

Fanfic: A Life Alone Ch 1, Harry Potter

“Heathen Love” by SecretAnimosity

(40,149 words)

harry/voldemort

“When McGonagall sees the address on Harry's Hogwarts letter, she goes to Snape knowing he has far more experience with troubled homes than she does. But how does this change the story we all know and love?”

Fanfic: Heathen Love Ch 1, Harry Potter

“Take Me Away” by Zenro

(36,486 words)

harry/voldemort

“Harry, After years of abuse at the Dursley's and constantly being used by the light he turns to Voldemort. Though not in the way he had hoped... End of 4th year”

Fanfic: Take Me Away Ch 1, Harry Potter

“Jaded Eyes of a Prodigy” by wickedlfairy17

(216,842 words) complete

harry/voldemort

“DarkHarry snapped early on, follow his journey for revenge. Surprises at every turn and not everything is as it appears. His search for power will reshape the world by fire and the magical world will never know what hit them.”

Fanfic: Jaded Eyes of a Prodigy Ch 1, Harry Potter

“Taken by Surprise” by BabblingSquirrel

(67,879 words)

harry/voldemort

“Innocent and harmless as he appears, Harry Potter is anything but - and after years of sitting tight, on the move. Can the Dark Lord cope with the bombshell? Will the wizarding world ever be the same if he can?”

Taken by Surprise - Chapter 1 - BabblingSquirrel - Harry Potter - JK Rowling

“Broken” by Batsutousai

(48,432 words) complete

harry/voldemort

“Dumbledore knew before Harry Potter came to Hogwarts what he needed the boy to do, and he knew exactly how to make him do it.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/209535/chapters/313369

[littlefreya]

The Way to Hell - Part 11

Synopsis: Post Mi6, Alternate Canon. August escapes Ethan Hunt with his face intact and is currently the most dangerous man alive. Unwilling to back down from his murderous agenda, he plots to continue where he stopped, unaware of the trained assassin who is sent to bring him down.

Chapters:  Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10| Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Completed.

Pairing: August Walker x OFC (Ingvild)

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings:  Explicit smut, violence, gore, cutting, angst, manhandling, choking, foul language, bondage, breath play, unprotected sex. 

A/N: Assuming my usual panic attack positions! Ok, so there are about 2 chapters left and I fear this story is about to conclude... 😰 This chapter put me through an emotional turmoill! Many thanks for my editor and muse @agniavateira, @yespolkadotkitty for the cover art and @dancingwendigo and @wondersofdreaming who’re helping me through my panic attacks and providing tips

Please comment, review and reblog.  💖

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it or parts of the source material and claiming it as your own*

Title: Hold me, thrill me, kiss me, kill me

Pearly tendrils of light shine through the creases of his lids, waking him from a dreamless sleep. A mixture of iron and dream-like mellowness tugs at his nose, like death and fresh roses. It’s so close he can nearly taste it on his parched tongue. Swallowing the scorching dryness in his throat, the fallen man attempts to move but a leaden warmth defies him, hugging softly onto his upper torso and embracing him in the foreign fog of solace. 

A delicate heartbeat murmurs against his, so frail it virtually feels as if it melted into his own ribs. 

As if she dissolved into him.

Cold sweat layers his forehead. Snapping frantically he shoves the girl off of him, curling against the headboard with a crazed neurotic look on his face as if he was touched by a blaze of blistering fire. 

“What the fuck do you want!?” August yells, his voice hoarse and cracked. His glare shoots through her across the small bedroom, his mind rapidly trying to grasp any recollection of the messy chamber. This location is strange to him; the walls feel like they’re closing in, withdrawing the air from his lungs in a place that seems like a warzone. The light-carpeted floor is soiled by a long path of the darkest red, the trail leading back to them.  

The porcelain valkyrie is pushed to the edge of the bed, seemingly like a rare mythological creature. Her long hair drapes her face like a dark veil, pierced by two shiny diamonds that glimpse through, imbued with naivety. Still drowsy, she tries to collect her own senses, rubbing her heavy forehead and releasing a soft groan.

“Relax, stop shouting.” she pleads with lids half shut. Her slender arms spread in the air, suggesting a peace treaty. 

August scowls, his airflow becoming short and quickened. He lets a hand rave over his chest with panic, finding it bare and sticky with dry blood and sweat. A clean bandage is wrapped around his left pectoral and crossed tightly around one shoulder. While the aching sting still bites into the wounded muscle, his energy has slightly renewed, as well as his sanity. 

Or so he believes. 

Making another hasty survey of the room, he finds his belt and armed holster scattered on the floor. He makes a dash for it, immediately aiming the gun in Ingvild’s direction, refusing to fall to whatever game this may be.  

She stares at him motionless, remaining seated with her knees folded and her feet nestled below her behind. “Feels nice doesn’t it?” she provokes, her lips breaking into a faint grin as if the muscles of her face are still learning the concept of smiling. “To wake up with your tits out.”

Looking back at her unamused, his hand waves the gun. A glower shadows his face, painting deep lines in his forehead. The attempt to greet her with an onslaught of insults results in nothing but a painful wheeze as his throat sears. 

“Don’t move,” Ingvild commands lightly and climbs off the bed, completely ignoring the click of the gun and August’s arm that follows her every movement. Her legs nearly float through as she moves gracefully, rushing to the bathroom nearby. She grabs a glass and fills it from the tap before quickly returning to sit on the bed, offering the tall glass to August.

Wary of her peace offering, he hesitates, scanning her for any signs of wickedness and finding none. Something else glints through her big irises instead. The deep lines that dot those beautiful greys seem so brittle, immersed in emotion he can’t define or recognize at all. 

It makes him feel attacked.

Snatching the glass violently, he swallows its content in one gulp, feeling a thirst he never sensed in his entire existence. He places the glass on the nightstand, slamming it so harshly it shatters.  

Ingvild peers at the light sparkling onto the broken shards and averts her eyes back to August’s profoundly ragged face. He glares with blazes of fury, evidently less than inclined to trust her despite her efforts to make amends, and the fact that she nursed him through a stormy night. 

It pricks her heart, more than it ever did when she tried to gain Liam’s affection.

“I could have killed you at least three times in your sleep,” she murmurs and then pauses, attempting to smirk again. “You should really lay off the snacks, I nearly fainted trying to get you to the bed.”

Unphased, he carefully gauges her appearance. Soft, pale light shines through the window, showering her skin with a mellow haze as she sits holding a hand over her forearm, squeezing it nervously. Her glance is filled with rain clouds, the cynicism and the hatred he grew so accustomed to is untraceable. 

A piece inside her shifted, deeming her fragile all of the sudden. In his heart of tar and stone, he knows she speaks the truth, yet the spirit of vengeance won’t let go. Bile rises in his throat, fingers twitching as the constant hunger to touch her prickles his skin. The woman is a natural prey to him, making his mouth salivate. It’s enough to see her defenceless to make him want to gnaw fresh cavities in her flesh. 

But something else boils in his veins. More than just a primal need.

“Why can’t you just let me be?” he asks sharply, teeth gritted and jaw strained tightly. A slight tremor runs through his bones, his body dominated by anger and despair. 

“You came here,” she answers, staring fearlessly between the barrel and his furious gaze. A small frown forms between her eyebrows, the grey clouds inside her lustrous eyes beginning to take wind. “You wanted to retaliate.”

Fragments of the other night begin to slice into the black matter of his brain: her tears, her lips moving slowly, whispering his own words of a vendetta in her angelic voice. 

Like a dream, nebulous and virginal, how beautiful she was surrendering her will to his. 

‘Fight it! She betrayed you.’

“Oh trust me, princess, I still very much want to see you die.” he retorts, the gun beginning to feel heavy in his hand. He reaches to hold his own wrist, giving a fierce glare. “You should have ended it, darling.”

“Yes, I should’ve killed you,” she agrees, her lower lip slightly quivering as she looks at him with desperation. Her chest begins to heave through the cleavage of her top, the same tarnished one she wore that night. It still smells like his sweat. His musk is so stubborn it lingers. 

“I should be a good girl, for Liam, for Icarus. But I have so many thoughts going through my head over and over again, splitting my mind in half. I don’t want to do this anymore, I don’t want to kill for them, I don’t want to kill you. It hurts.”

Shuffling in a swift movement, she crawls toward him, her muscles flexing inward. Her slick manoeuvres remind him of a majestic feline. August’s pupils dilate as the lines of her face sharpen in his sight and the warmth of her body returns to caress him like a pleasant autumn breeze.

Ingvild reaches her slender arm for his wrist fearlessly before he can even muster any protest. Ignoring the gun aimed at her throat, she forces his palm flat onto her chest and inhales sharply. Her heart thunders against his touch, making his own beat accelerate.  

“Right here,” she says, gazing deeply into his eyes as if trying to enchant him. “I have killed close to 470 people since I was 14. I don’t remember their faces, but I do know I never felt this before, not for any of them.”

The azure ocean in August’s eyes gushes with alarming gusts. The scarce physical contact ignited a spark inside him, driving him to withdraw his hand aggressively, putting down the flame before it begins to spread again. 

“What do you want? What do you think this is?” he asks furiously, boring a frenzied look into her eyes. He feels a certain heat rising in his chest. He reasons with himself that it’s just the gunshot wound festering, burning his lungs to cinders.

“I want you,” she answers, her gaze dropping to his lips, admiring the fine shape. A sharp cupid’s bow hidden beneath the coarse hair of his thick moustache. Her hands dream of stroking his sculptured jaw and feel the bristle of his untamed stubble. 

“I want to follow you on your mission.”    

‘She is lying. Don’t trust her, remember what happened the last time you’ve placed your faith in a woman?’

August’s nostrils flare, his mind scouring frantically, bargaining for a reason why she would be different. Twice he spared her, his murderous will weakened by her manipulative spells, clawed by whatever it was she had on him. The voice in his head warns him gravely, yet the fact that here he is, still alive by her merciful hand spikes his doubts, meddling with his thoughts the way only she could do. 

Ever since she stepped into his life he’s been spiralling into a cataclysm. Something that he always gripped with zeal was no longer in his control.  

Leaning closer, he narrows his eyes with spite. The muscle of his jaw contracts, clenching tightly. He grazes the cold barrel of the gun against the supple skin of her cheek. “Why should I trust you?” he spits out, tracing her face further with the hard, crude metal.  “You think that because I broke you in, I actually care about you?”

Ingvild studies his face, not showing any sign of fear as she nods to herself. “You need proof.”

The young woman looks around her, searching for something in the room thoughtfully. Her eyes rest on the nightstand beside August and she leans to it, brushing her entire figure against his broad body for a split second as she reaches for the broken glass. 

“What do you think you’re doing, princess?” he asks cautiously, his eyes following her every move.  He crooks his eyebrow as she sits in front of him with her legs bunched beneath her bottom. Displaying her left arm with her elbow resting on one knee and her palm facing upward, she presses the shard against her wrist. 

August frowns in a mixture of confusion and agitation, alarm bells ringing at the back of his head. Yet no rational thought makes it to his mind as he watches the glass tear through her skin. 

Silence befalls the room. Abruptly so quiet he can hear the buzz of the electric cords running through the walls. Even her breath pauses as her right hand drops the shard on the bed, her eyes remaining poised, darting onto his. Overcome with disbelief he wonders if she actually did it, scrutinizing her flesh which seems intact.  

Suddenly, a spout of blood emerges through her open wrist. 

Dark red liquor licks down her arm, sensually dripping onto her worn jeans and pooling onto the blanket. August’s heart stirs with shock, yet he attempts to force his emotions away. 

“What the hell do you think you are doing?!” 

Keeping her sight on his, Ingvild remains still, not flinching a muscle as the blood pumps out of her severed artery. The pain is excruciating yet the chants in her mind continue to tell her to hold her groans inside. 

‘Show no weakness, prove your strength.’

“You want loyalty.”

“Won’t mean a thing if you’re dead,” he answers coldly, waiting for her to stop the blood, to show any fear or regret. The thick liquid continues to flow down her arm, tarnishing her porcelain skin that begins to turn paler as the blood drains from her body. He gathers the torture must be unbearable yet she won’t even make a whimper.

‘What is she waiting for?’

“I’m not going to save you,” August warns. 

Ingvild shrugs lightly, trying not to move her arm too much. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll die one way or another, by your hand or Icarus’. At least this gives me a choice.”

The drops staining the bed sound like rain tapping against a window ledge, heavy and dull.

August’s brows knit together, his eyes running back and forth between her arm and her face, watching her lips turning light blue, triggering disturbing memories in his mind. “What on earth does that mean?” Heavy frown lines paint his forehead as he recalls her words before she shot him. 

“I have to kill you.” 

“You’re a slave?” he reckons, looking at the colour vanishing from her face as she nods. “How very disappointing, Ingvild.”

“A tool, controlled by men whom I’ve never seen to manipulate the world and sustain the old order, as you wrote in your manifesto.” she shuts her eyes for a mere second, trying to push back the throbbing twinge in her vein as her body screams with panic. 

“They stole my freedom…” she pauses, finding it suddenly hard to speak. “They stole me... what did they take from you?”

“It’s none of your business,” he snaps, aware of how her voice slows down along with her breath. He swears he can hear her heartbeat getting louder as if begging to be rescued. 

“But I am bleeding for you.” she provokes, offering a small weak chuckle. Feeling the euphoria creeping to her mind. “You should tell me your plans like villains do in the movies. I’m dying anyway.”

August snarls. Shaking his head, his eyes hold a rageful ocean, washed with concern. The image of her dying corpse lying beneath him flashes into his memory. A dead angel in the snow, lips frozen in time. He should have left her there in the frozen lake. But for a split second, she was Lacey and then she wasn’t. 

As she slowly dives into her own death, he still wonders why he couldn’t let her drown.

‘For fuck’s sake.’

Ingvild closes her eyes accepting the shadows that seduce her to join them, the pain dwindling as her body gives in. But she’s quickly pulled back by August who holds her hand, covering the bleeding slit with his tattered shirt and pressing into it. His voice comes as distant thunder, vibrating gently in her ears before words begin to make sense again.  

“Hold it up, like this,” he commands her, folding her arm and fisting her wrist tightly. “Where are the bandages?”

Ingvild tilts her chin, her sleepy eyes gesturing onto her bag on the floor where a pristine white pack of badges lies. 

“Keep the pressure on,” he orders her again. His voice is calm as if once again he follows protocols. Yet something stirred, hiding within the silent sea of his eyes which snap at her for a split second. 

They’re tainted by fear. 

Ingvild watches with hushed admiration as he hurries to grab the bandage and returns to her. A small wrinkle rests between his brow, focusing intently on wrapping her open wound. He makes such a beautiful, neat work dressing her injury, she almost feels sorry for making a mess out of his.    

“Have I proved myself?” she taunts, peeking at him through her lashes while he makes work of tying the dressing tightly at her wrist. His elegant hands wrap a piece of medical duct tape around the bandages, twirling the long thick bands ceremonially as if they were silk ribbons.

His stern gaze rests upon her face, noting every flake of her long lashes, watching the different colours shift like thick liquid as daylight breaks onto her glassy irises. Awe plays with the strings in his chest, mesmerized by the innocence in her that refuses to die even after he desecrated her. 

The craving in him seethes. Like a thirsty man in the desert who stumbles onto an oasis.    

‘You can’t let her go, can’t let her slip between your fingers.’

With her wrist still in his grasp, he allows himself to stroke a thumb over the white cotton of the bandage, brushing the suppleness of her skin.

“This is not the devotion I need from you, princess.”

Ingvild flinches like a scared animal, shivering at the foreign tenderness of his touch. No one ever touched her with kindness. Soft, feather-like caresses embark further up her milky skin, making her moan at the pleasant new sensation. Light and careful, his fingers ascend to her neck and press around her chin.  

“Angel,” August murmurs, low and sonorous. His bulky body looms closer, whilst the grip around her jaw becomes tense, drawing her closer until his lips are a mere inch away from hers. “Do you want to be devoted to me?”

“Yes,” she answers, voice still lingering either by blood loss or the passion that begins to cloud her mind.

Consoled by her answer, a small growl builds in the pit of August’s diaphragm, accompanied by a lustful grin that edges his chiselled face. 

“Then show me your devotion.”

“No…” she protests lightly, finally breaking into a true little smile that glints brightly in her eyes. The radiance almost makes him want to take it from her by force. “I’m not a toy.” 

August smirk widens at her response, exposing his sharp fangs that beam at the faint hint of rosy hues that circles her cheeks. 

“Did I stutter?” Authority paints his voice, his grip putting pressure on her nape and pressing her chin up with the pad of his thumb. The patience in him wears thin, greed weaving in his gut yet he vows to hold back as much as possible, unwilling to tear down her wings. 

She must submit freely.

Fallen by his power, she watches the darkness pour into his eyes, his lips pulling apart slightly, anticipating the moment when he can steal the air from her lungs and nibble into the plumpness of her lips. Whatever strength in her wanes, bending to his will. She meekly takes his lips into hers, suckling him above and below, feeling the rough graze of his moustache. 

It’s nothing like the violent kiss they shared in the pit, yet something in her quickly awakens: a hunger like no other, turning the kiss more demanding. Like fire spreading, their tongues quickly engulf each other, dancing feverishly. August’s growl vibrates all the way down her sternum, his hands roaming down to grope every patch of skin. 

A mewl of protest breaks from her as he leaves her lips, followed by a deep sigh as he begins to kiss down her throat. The scruff of his coarse facial hair makes her blood rush and her heart pumps with exhilaration, nearly halting from the bliss of his touch.

“I want everything.” August blurts out, tugging her shirt over her head and then biting her breasts over her bra. The canvas of her skin is tainted by deep-grey and purple shades. Flicking the clasp of her bra, he wonders briefly which were from their fight and which formed as he fucked her so aggressively. He feels nothing but pride in knowing he will make new ones right now. Brand her as he claims her his own. 

Sharp teeth sink into her tender breasts, coaxing yips of pain, marking her with wet little cavities while his fingers fiddle with her jeans, urgently huddling it down her legs along with her underwear. Impassioned, she shifts from her position, kicking away the last remnants of her clothes. The chill air tickles her wet flesh, making her exhale with ghastly need. More wolf than a man, August leans back, his torso layered with sweat that glistens of the dark fur of his torso. The fabric of his trousers is stretched painfully over the massive bulge and mindlessly she reaches out to feel him, kneading the outlines of his erection through his pants. 

‘Fuck, her touch...’ 

Fervent groans tremor through his sinew as she squeezes him harder. She frees him from his trousers, running a hand up and down his shaft, astounded by his vastness and the correlation of smooth velvet skin over rock-hard muscle. 

Still sore, the pounding heat of need rocks at the centre of her cunt, possessing her into swaying her perky breasts against his cock. Pearly beads of precum exude from the tip, coating the erected peaks of her nipples.

“Fuck!” August pants and swallows hard, as the battle over his self-control drains him. Patience has always been his virtue in bed, his power over women. Release in control by sodomy that inflicted true pleasure. 

But not with her. She strings different tunes, singing seductive hymns to the animal in him. 

He wants her. He needs her. He must have all of her.  

‘I deserve her.’

Drawing back against the headboard, his hands snap at her hip, lifting her with ease to stand on her knees right above his cock. Ingvild nibbles at her bottom lip, her eyes falling onto his hardened shaft which lies heavily against his abs. 

If not for all the injuries she caused him, the large man’s Adonis-like form would have looked like a renaissance statue cut out of marble. 

“Come here,” he commands, removing one hand from her to seize the base of his huge cock which towers with glory amidst the dark bundles of curls. “Take me in”

A stream of arousal rushes inside her, making her quiver as she lowers her soaked crease onto his erection ever so gingerly. Cries of overwhelm break from her lips. His girth splits her apart, whilst his wolf-like glares bore into hers with the triumph of conquest. 

Every push stretches her wider, forcing her body to succumb and accept him despite the painful effort. August is too big, his vastness tears whatever innocence is left to her, and he is not even fully within.

Shivering, she halts, hearing August’s snarl of protest when realizing she has her nails cleaving crescent-marks on his pumped shoulders.  

“All the way in, angel,” he commands, and then bucks his hips into her and snaps her down onto his pulsating shaft, giving no notice to the scream she lets out as he sears her. 

He drives himself in until her ass slams onto his thick thighs. She can feel his hot flinching cock buried within the dark pit of her gut while his sack strains against her clenched cavern. 

“Good girl.” August praises, pressing her against his chest as they both pant and groan in harmony. Calls of pleasure and cries of pain mingle into a sinful symphony.

But suddenly he stills, and his hand snaps at her neck. Thumb pressing at her artery, he makes a small thrust, causing her to whine as little sparks kindle in her cunt. 

“August, please.” she whimpers, trying to ride him to ease the aching despair that boils in her cunt. He fills her to the hilt yet gives no friction but the thundering throb of his thick veins. 

“Devotion.” he replies, his free arm fishing for the leather belt perched on the floor. With one determined wring of his wrist,he wraps it around her neck, giving her a nice little collar with a leash made of the thick strap. 

His finger brushes up and down the leather erotically, staring at the girl’s hazy grey orbs to see if he can find a drop of protest.   

Instead, she presses her hands on his furry torso and desperately begins to mount him with teetering gasps. The noose tightens with the sway of her body yet the tension and the grind within is far too agonizing to stay still; the need to have him sunken in her depth of her soul defies any will to breathe.

August gapes his mouth with awe, groaning loudly as he feels her drenched cunt gripping around. She’s impossibly tight, his fresh little flower, crying out so hopelessly as if it hurts, as if being fucked by his large cock is so pleasurably unbearable yet her life depends on it.

“Poor little tight cunt,” he taunts, urging her to fall faster back on his thighs while bucking his hips into her with deep slams. “you missed this?” he asks with a groan, tying the strap around his fist and pulling her closer to meet his hooded gaze, “You missed me fucking you, angel?”

Unable to make more than strangled sobs, she nods with glassy eyes, feeling the squeeze around her arteries while her cunt convulses and blazes with ecstasy. Flames bloom in the pit of her womb, every assault of his cock inside her pushes the heat further through her nerves. Desperate, she is reduced to nothing but her pursuit of forgotten euphoria. 

The fervent flames lick up her spine, darkness whispering in her mind. Yet she leans back, letting the noose devoid the oxygen to her heart and brain as her body falls lost into a delirium.

August feels her pussy tensing around his cock as the belt halts her airflow; through the heated waves of pleasure, an alarm blares. “Careful,” he rasps, reaching his fist to her throat to replace the belt and pulling her until her chest grinds into his own. “Don’t damage what’s mine!”

Her reply is a cracked wheeze, her body jolting as he fucks her into a punishing rhythm. Hot and burning, stoking inside her, balls thudding and battering her hole, the chant of their wet skin colliding in a violent dance accompanies the chaotic symphony of their moans. His angel latches onto him, wrapping tighter and tighter as her body accepts his offering of rage, sucking and milking him dry.

August pulls her face against his, fingers flexing around her jugular, lips grazing her own and then hovering to rob her of her feeble exhales. 

“You want to breathe?” he snarls.

Ingvild nods, feeling the storm of fire about to erupt inside her. Her canal gripping him so tightly she can feel every tendon and ridges of him grazing her walls. Tears well in her raincloud eyes, her heart shrinking as she feels him, all of him, consuming her with his existence.

“Then come for me, angel.” 

With his words, she arches back, letting the fire implode in her loins and sweep her into a rapture so intense her entire body shakes around him. All she can feel is August, filing her soul, seeping in deeper than her thoughts. 

Tears spring down her cheeks, emotions and pleasure whirl at her heart at once.

“August!”

Hearing his name on her lips spikes the savage spirits within. Reduced to a beast, he takes hold of her hips, flipping her over and riding between her thighs. His hands pin her down by the neck and he ravages her through her climax. He can feel the flinch of his cock, swelling larger inside her narrow space. The innocence of her essence devours him. All the hate and pain diminishes and for a brief moment, he is allowed into heaven, feeling nothing but bliss in his chest. His shouts of pleasure echo into the room, his body jerking into her as the hot, white ribbons of his thick seed sprout into her womb.

Falling down to earth is always the hardest part.

Taking a hard swallow, he leans his sweaty forehead against hers, rolling it slowly and listening to the silent hisses from her mouth. Still basking in the afterglow of his orgasm, he pulls himself to his elbows fighting the spasm in his muscles and their will to collapse. His brow suddenly crumples at her sight: her eyes shine with a wide spectrum of emotions that glisten sadly down her temples. Shivering sobs escape from quivering lips, trying to find words that never make it to her tongue. 

August observes her carefully, removing his grip from her neck gingerly and reaching out a thumb to dry her tears. The crystals in her eyes were broken to dozens of many pieces that reflected the light back in various shades. A look of a lost child that carries an oddly familiar sensation, something that makes him cold and warm, as if Ingvild is inside his blood and he is inside hers. 

They had killed each other after all and then brought one another’s hearts to beat again. In his twisted mind, it made for a more profound intimacy than sex.

“Easy, babygirl.” he speaks unusually compassionate, dipping a finger in the wetness beneath her eyes and then slips it into his mouth, tasting the salt onto his tongue. “That was intense for you, wasn’t it?”

She nods silently, the emotional release tingling through her aortae, making her skin prickle with goosebumps. She never felt like this: whole, vulnerable, and belonging. She never felt anything at all, all her life. Her body tries to control the jitters in her muscles yet her body seems suddenly inexplicably cold.   

“Sh... it’s okay,” August whispers, capturing her lips into a chaste comforting kiss. “I’ve got you.” he murmurs and allows his lips to trail lower, pressing soft butterfly kisses over every patch of skin and bone, descending through the plains of her naked flesh, tasting the mixture of their sweat. His fingers find the large crescent scar in her lower abdomen, tracing the withering stitches in a sick memory of their first night together.

He feels no remorse. Had he changed his action, she wouldn’t have been his right now.  

Ingvild finally manages to release a sound, moaning with exhaustion as she eases into his care, her lungs and heart catching up when her body begins to float. With whatever strength left in him, August holds her the way a groom holds his bride, and carries her in his firm arms. 

~*~

The bath is filled hot near to the brim. Mountains of foam edge onto the water, looking like fluffy little clouds. This bathroom is not as nearly as luxurious as the one he had in Bergen. It’s painfully plain, like something out of an 80’s film, yet right now it looks like the most outrageous, spoiling delight. 

Sitting on the stone, his hand whirls the water, testing the heat before stepping in.   

“Come here,” he beckons, reaching toward Ingvild to join him as he sits down, releasing a deep sigh of relief as the hot water soothes the pain. The bath is hardly big enough for a man of his size, his knees buck up, peeking above the water. 

Ingvild takes his hand, stepping to sit at the spot between his thighs, making sure not to wet the bandages on her wrists. August’s arms guide her to melt back against his broad chest carefully, avoiding friction with the gunshot wound that begins to ache more and more as the last of the endorphins dwindle. He breaks into a small groan and lands his chin atop her head while glaring into the water with rising concern.  

“They will come for us.” Ingvild finally manages to find words, her voice still husky as her jugular strains. “Once they know you’re not dead, they’ll hunt us. We need to move, fast.”

August weighs her words. He muses over the sacrifice she made, and for whom? The man who stabbed her and nearly left her to float in a frozen lake? ‘She chose, you didn’t force her.’

 Indeed, it was her free will that brought her to him.  

“We should,” he answers, rinsing some water onto her torso and rubbing her forearms clean. “Just relax now, you won’t do me good all broken.”

“You care about me,” she teases, a small smile creeping on her lips.

“We will make for my safe house from here, and then we can take the train to Manchester,” he answers, ignoring her comment.

Ingvild catches some foam in her palm, squeezing the dissolving material between her fingers lightly and then blows it with the weak airflow that comes from her lungs. Little specks of bubbles fly into the bath. August watches them with her silently.    

“For the plutonium,” she utters.

“Yes.”

Tilting his head slightly, he looks down to see if there is any disgust or fear shadowing her face, yet finds none. The girl continues forming little abstract shapes in the dwindling white hills, twirling her fingernails on the tiny bubbles. The edge of her spine peeks between the thick strands of her hair, while hues of purple, nearly black, hug her nape. The girl is forbearing, enduring as she was taught; he wonders if it’s to please him, or if it pleases her as well.

Cupping water in his hands, he begins to wash her skin, pouring onto the back of her neck and her shoulders. He brushes his fingers through the brown waves of her hair while she leans her head back and closes her eyes.

It’s as if years of tension peel off from her, uncovering truths she fought to hide. August was right, and so was Liam; no one ever loved her. But now in the arms of a monster, she suddenly senses what she imagines would be care and affection. His touch is no longer clinical and it feels as if vines are growing onto her limbs, twirling around her and pulling her to become one with him. 

In her mind, she can’t help but start picking into the not-so-distant past, recalling being his hostage and the conversations they had when they still hated one another. The anguish that resonates in his eyes didn’t speak of hatred individually toward the world, the specks of brown held a fair amount toward himself as well.

“What did Sloane do?” she asks curiously. “In Bergen, you mentioned she did something to you.” 

She feels August’s sudden halt, his long digits entangled in her hair, pulling slightly while his chest sinks inward. His inhale takes into a heavy suction and his nostrils flare. He didn’t think of Lacey since he woke in Ingvild’s arms. 

“She tricked me.” his eyes focus onto nothing and his fingers resume their course through Ingvild’s wet strands. He becomes slightly agitated, unlacing the small knots that formed at the edge with force. “She suspected me and never liked me- for a reason, of course. She knew someone was distributing secrets and weapons beneath her nose, so she sent a spy. In my case, it was my partner.”

“A woman,” Ingvild continues, the realization hitting her softly. “Lacey.”

Her name on Ingvild’s tongue sends a shiver creeping from the base of his spine. 

“Yes,” he answers dryly and clenches his jaw. “We were partners for months. She got close. She... was loyal, she understood me or so I thought, but then I found out, she wasn’t.”

Ingvild hears the shift in his tone again, in their reflection on the water she sees him staring forward with grim shades painting his eyes. The corners of his lips tugged down as he broods.

“It sounds like you loved her.”

August remains silent, giving no answer. It resonates in her right away - betrayal burnt hotter than the wound itself. In their carnal twist, August burned her, but it wasn’t her carnal devotion he sought for. 

“Where is she now?” 

“Dead.” he answers, releasing a deep sigh of silent rage, not even bothering to shy from the truth this time. Ingvild was bred into a world of monsters; she breathed them, she killed them and he was just another beast for her to slay. Yet she chose to stroke her hand on his snout regardless of what she knew.

“I killed her.” 

In his mind Lacey walks away, her blue heels tapping on the floor, echoing before she gives him one last glance. She turns away, her golden curls dulled by the lack of light as she vanishes into a mist of smoke and shadow. 

Ingvild feels a slight relief at the thought of Lacey being dead, for some reason she can’t explain to herself.  August returns his gaze to her again, removing his hands from her hair. His hand wraps around her jaw, pressing her head to look into his piercing glare. He looks for fear but finds none.

“Try to rest,” he commands and then wraps his arms around her possessively. “Long days are ahead.”  

“Will you read me your manifesto?”

August looks down on her face once more, wondering for a moment if this is another hallucination. A terrible thought crosses his mind and his heart flinches; what if in these moments he’s actually bleeding to his death in the pit, his mind playing tricks as he breathes his last breath?

But the softness and warmth of her body feels more vivid than ever. Stronger than the doubt that creeps into his mind. 

“There has never been peace without first a great suffering. The greater the suffering, the greater the peace. As mankind is drawn to his self-destruction like a moth to the candle...” he chants, accompanied by Ingvild who also recites his words in her gentle voice. 

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disclaimer: I don’t own Mission Impossible and August Walker