#I wanted to make him really warm to contrast her vampiric appearance which is more or less what they do in the movie | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

injoontz · 9 months ago

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐝 ━ 𝐧.𝐣𝐦 & 𝐡.𝐫𝐣

pairing. na jaemin x fem!oc x huang renjun starring. na jaemin, seo iseol (oc) featuring. huang renjun genre. vampire au // love triangle warnings. alcohol, weed, smoking, making out, feeding (vampire drinking blood) word count. 1.9k

synopsis. in which iseul wants to get back at huang renjun ↳ jaemin!vampire x oc!human x renjun!vampire

Iseul leaned back onto the couch as her heavy body finally gave in to the weed. The couch sunk perfectly under her, easing her body and baiting her to close her eyes to sleep. Despite that, she wanted to stay awake and relish in the lightweight feeling she got from being high.

She felt like she was present at the party but also found herself staring off dreamily into the rowdy bodies. The music boomed through the whole house but it only added to the relaxing feeling Iseul felt.

The coach sunk as someone sat down next to her and she felt their arm drop over her shoulder.

Methodically, Iseul looked over with relaxed eyes to see Jaemin smiling brightly at her.

“You look high as fuck,” he laughed.

Iseul smiled gently, “How have you been?” she leaned in a bit, the soft feeling of his shirt contrasting with his hard body. She could feel his muscles tense and relax whenever he moved.

“I was just with Garam,” Jaemin said, pointing across the living room to a girl that was dancing freely. “She was nice, not really my type though.”

Iseul hummed, her eyes leaving Jaemin and drifting across the party.

“How so?” she asked as her eyes fell on a couple. She quickly forced her eyes to look away.

“She said that she likes me,” Jaemin replied easily, “But she said it was because I was attractive because I was a vampire,”

“And you didn’t like that,” Iseul finished for him, “Because Na Jaemin doesn’t care about silly things like appearance,” she turned and flashed a bright smile at him.

Jaemin’s eyes widened a bit at the pretty girl resting on him. He let out a light chuckle, “I care about appearances, but I don’t think that’s why you should like someone,”

“Ugh, you’re too sober,” Iseul complained and passed him the cup in her hand, “Here, I don’t feel like drinking tonight,”

Jaemin took her cup and tipped the content back. Immediately he grimaced as the bitter alcohol burned his throat, “Fucking hate alcohol,” he grumbled.

“You still drank it,” Iseul pointed out, her head suddenly feeling heavy and dropping onto Jaemin. The sedating feeling Iseul felt from being high took over her whole body. Jaemin’s warm body baited her in and she pushed her cheek into his chest.

“You’re warm,” she said, “It’s weird,”

“Why?” Jaemin asked.

“You’re usually cold,” Iseul replied.

“I’m hot because it’s hot in here,” Jaemin chuckled.

Iseul hummed but didn’t reply. Her eyes had landed on the couple from earlier. She felt bitterness toward the two but could only watch resentfully as Renjun’s hand snaked around Yihwa’s waist. Yihwa’s hand went up and gently rubbed Renjun’s shoulder and then rested on his chest.

“Hey,” Jaemin said sitting up a bit and making the girl adjust her position to sit properly.

Iseul stared down her nose at Renjun and Yihwa. Jaemin’s eyes drifted over as well and he couldn’t help but let out a scoff. Leaning closer to Iseul, his arm wrapped around her a bit tighter.

“Wanna leave?” he asked, a suggestive tone to his voice.

Iseul glanced sideways at Jaemin, a glimmer in his eyes as his lips turned up into a smirk. Iseul turned her gaze back to Renjun and found that he was staring right at her. Their eyes locked and Iseul refused to back down.

“What so you can feed on me?” Iseul asked in a soft voice to Jaemin.

Jaemin glanced at Renjun, noticing how his eyes bore into the two. Smirking, Jaemin leaned in closer to Iseul, his teeth nipping gently at her ear making a tingly feeling rush through Iseul. “If you let me,” Jaemin replied, his hot breath tickling Iseul’s ear.

With a final look at Renjun, Iseul turned to Jaemin and nodded. Wanting to get on Renjun’s nerves more, she leaned closer to Jaemin and gently placed a kiss on his lips. Jaemin stared back at her with calm eyes before they flashed red and he stood up.

Holding Iseul’s hand, the two left the living room of the party and made their way up the stairs of the house. Iseul followed Jaemin slipping through masses of sweaty bodies. She tried her best to walk in a straight line but the drugs she smoked earlier made her feel off balanced.

“Hold onto me,” Jaemin said when he noticed her stumble. Iseul nodded and wrapped an arm around Jaemin’s and continued to follow him until they finally found an empty room.

The moment the door closed behind them, his arms were around her. They wrapped around her body from the back, hard and strong yet they held her delicately. Iseul had never experienced anything like it before and she felt herself sink into his body wanting more.

Then his lips were on her neck. First gentle, light feathery kisses that trailed down to the base of her neck. His hands gently ran up her arms and then held firmly onto her waist. With his head still buried into her neck, he spun her around slowly.

Iseul immediately dropped her head into his hair, the fresh scent of his cologne and shampoo drowned out the smell of sweaty bodies and beer. Jaemin’s hand found the roots of her hair and gently pulled her head back across his arm.

When his eyes met hers, she found that they were glowing brilliantly red, like the color of rubies. His lips were gently parted as he stared at her fluttering eyes. Standing up fully, Jaemin towered over Iseul and only when she had her back pressed against the wall did she realize how her stomach swirled with butterflies.

Her eyes fluttered shut as Jaemin leaned down and connected their lips. He kissed softly at first like he was testing the waters. He would gently press into the kiss and then pull away.

Iseul’s hands ran up to his light brown hair, tugging gently which earned a gentle moan from Jaemin. Hearing the sound leave his lips, Iseul felt her knees go weak and she dropped one of her hands to brace against the wall.

Jaemin groaned and quickly hooked his arms around Iseul. Understanding, she gave a small jump and Jaemin quickly hoisted her up and against the wall. Iseul let out a gasp from the impact but it was cut short as Jaemin demanded for her lips.

The sudden intensity made Iseul’s stomach tense and cling to him as he suddenly became the only solid thing in her dizzy world. The lack of oxygen mixed with the light-headed high she felt made Iseul weak and give in to the kiss.

His insistent lips parted her lips sending wild tremors across her entire body. The taste of his lips was slightly sweet as he gently bit at her bottom lip. His hands ran up her shirt, grabbing at the back of her bra for support.

Without warning, Jaemin pulled Iseul from the wall and took a few stumbling steps back until his legs hit the bed. Iseul felt herself fall forward onto Jaemin as he landed on the bed, but she never broke away from their kiss.

Jaemin pulled back from Iseul and she leaned back trying to catch her breath. She licked her lips, staring down at Jaemin. From where he lay under her, Jaemin’s eyes traveled down her face to where her legs straddled his hips.

“Fuck it,” Iseul heard him mutter under his breath and if possible his red eyes flashed brightly in intensity.

His hands grabbed at her waist and yanked her off of him. Iseul’s back slammed back into the wall and she let out a pained gasp as Jaemin’s strong hands dug into her hips.

Iseul couldn’t help but let out a gentle laugh at Jaemin’s desperation. “You want it that badly?” she asked, her voice low.

Jaemin’s jaw clenched and his grip loosened on her. He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on the ground somewhere beside him. “Get on the bed,” his voice was demanding but also tender.

Iseul’s eyes didn’t leave Jaemin as she slowly made her way over. Climbing onto the bed on all fours, Iseul gasped as she suddenly felt Jaemin grab her. She felt herself get thrown and Iseul landed softly on the bed with Jaemin’s face hovering over hers. Iseul stared back at him, taking in the situation before a bright smirk appeared on her face.

“Am I that addictive?” Iseul asked.

“You have no idea,” Jaemin’s voice came out barely in a whisper. He dipped his head down, his lips against her cheeks. They barely brushed her cheek but the light touch was enough to send shivers that made her whole body tremble.

“If you want to back out, tell me now,” he whispered.

When Iseul said nothing, Jaemin gently placed a kiss against her jaw.

“Or now,” his breath tickled her neck.

He traced the line of her collarbone with his lips before moving back up to her face.

“Or–“

Iseul reached up and pulled him down to her. The rest of his words died on his lips as they locked with Iseul’s. He groaned softly, low in his throat before his lips left hers and drifted to her neck.

His lips found their spot on her neck and Iseul could only let out a soft gasp as he kissed her there. Her hands flew to his hair, holding tightly as he continued to kiss and bite at her exposed neck.

When Jaemin finally pulled away, his hot breath fanned against Iseul’s neck. She let out a soft whine at the sudden lack of his presence.

“Last chance,” he said leaning back, Iseul’s hands falling from his hair.

Instead of saying anything Iseul only tilted her head to the other side revealing the side of her neck that wasn’t marked with kisses. Jaemin’s hand gently brushed against her neck to move away any stray strands of hair.

Iseul watched as his half-lidded eyes stared down at her neck, his fangs poking out from his slightly parted lips. Jaemin dipped his head toward her neck and she felt him smirk against her.

The sudden wave of pain that came from Jaemin latching onto her neck made Iseul cry out in pain. Her hands grabbed at his back, her nails digging into his skin. Jaemin hissed at the pain but went right back to drinking Iseul’s blood moments later.

Iseul grimaced as she felt her energy start to diminish. Her eyes fluttered, fighting the urge to close her eyes to sleep as Jaemin continued to feed off of her. Iseul’s tight grip on Jaemin’s started to grow weak and Jaemin pulled away.

His lips were tinted red from her blood and his red eyes glowed brightly from drinking blood. Iseul grabbed Jaemin’s hand, suddenly panicked at how she felt herself slipping into black. Jaemin held her hand as well and gently pressed a kiss to it.

“You’re okay,” he said softly, leaning down and placing a kiss on Iseul’s temple, “I’ll be here to watch over you, just rest,”

Iseul let out a gentle whimper before she relaxed into the bed and drifted off to sleep.

©injoontz 2024

#najaemin #jaemin #na jaemin #renjun #huangrenjun #huang renjun #nct #nctdream #nct dream #nct127 #nct 127 #parkjisung #leejeno #marklee #leehaechan #leedonghyuck #zhongchenle

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superhero--imagines · 4 years ago

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Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here!

A/N: not superhero themed. I just read midnight sun and had this idea and I don’t feel like making another blog so.... hope you like twilight lol

There will be a part two, and just a reminder, I’m still looking for beta readers so DM if you’re interested!

* It probably starts with you reading midnight sun, you remember reading the books/watching the movies when you were younger.

* Man, you really forgot how bad this book was. The writing itself is good, but the plot...

* It’s like everything revolves around Bella, everything is created for her.

* You almost feel bad for the other characters

* Well, whatever, you’ll finish the rest of the book tomorrow and never think about that awful franchise again.

* When you wake up you feel an ache in your head. But you didn’t drink last night, maybe you’re dehydrated

* You shift, noting the smooth silk of the covers. Now you’re alarmed.

* You don’t have silk sheets

* You see a mirror in the corner of the room, and rush over

* The face that looks back at you is different then yours

* It’s the same in some ways, but different all the same

* The curve of your nose is slightly off, your lips are thinner, eyes a little closer together.

* The memories begin to flood in, in this world you were on a graduation trip with your parents, you got an all inclusive package. Three days of sightseeing in Volterra.

* You got sick on the last day, when you were signed for a tour of the castle, your parents went without you

* That was the last you saw of them

* You dumbly followed, asking question where you shouldn’t. And ended up at the volturi’s door

* Aro had grasped your hand to see how much you knew, only too see nothing. Likewise Jane’s powers did not work as well

* They were astounded by this, it appears this was several years before Bella was introduced to the story

* And so, you became a prisoner of the tower

* Your soul must have been in this body for quite some time, but you’ve only remembered now, that’s the only explanation for why their powers didn’t work on you. Your consciousness is not of this world.

* There’s a short knock on your door

* “Are you decent?”

* You call back and Alec pops his head in.

* “Ready to go to the library?”

* He looks so kind. The boyish grin that stretched across his face as you shook your head.

* It was in direct contrast to the sadistic personality you had become accustomed to in the books

* “I need a few more minutes”

* You half expect him to lash out at you for being slow. By he only nods, closing the door and waiting outside for you to finish.

* He was you friend. You realized

* He IS your friend

* You think back as you turn on the faucet. He didn’t like you at first, being assigned to guard a human was insulting

* But he started to warm up to you once he heard you play the piano

* This body was quite used to the ivory keys. And so you charmed him as best you could, half for your survival, because the happier you kept him the less likely he was to kill you.

* And half because- you were so lonely, the Loneliness echoed in this body like an ache. Suddenly an orphan, in a continent where you knew no one. All you had was this boy.

* How long have you been here? You kept a talley at one point, but abandoned it after the thirtieth day. What was the point? You would either die or become one of them

* A shiver erupts through at the thought, in your past life you were a vegetarian, you didn’t relish in the idea of killing something alive and moving.

* You pull on a sweatshirt, ripping of the chanel tag. They bought you the nicest things money could buy, the most lavish food you could have.

* They did the same thing with the tourists they lured, keeping them happy and well fed, the same way the cows that became wagyu beef might be cared for. That way when it came time to slaughter, the meal was that much more delicious.

* You suspected this was similar, that should you be an unnecessary addition, you would make a meal suitable for their palette

* Alec basically talks your ear off the entire way to the Volturi library, mostly about literature

* “What are your thoughts on Anna Kerenina?”

* “That the patriarchy needs to be burned to the ground.”

* “That is.... valid”

* He even talks when you’re at the library, much to the annoyance of a few of the other patrons

* “Which book are you looking for now?”

* You stop mid motion on the ladder and turn to look at him. His ruby eyes glowing, he looks bloated. Like he’s fed too much.

* “Alec, why are we friends?”

* You really should keep your mouth shut. Alec was the only real ally you had, you shouldn’t say anything that might put him off

* And yet, it unnerved you, because the Alec in front of you was a very different character then the one you had come to see.

* He looks at you like you hung the moon,

* “Because you’re the most interesting human in the world”

* You burst out laughing, earning several glares.

* “I-I’m sorry Alec, but I’m not, I’m just the most interesting human you KNOW, there’s way more people who are more interesting than me.”

* You expect to see him offended, and he does, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes

* “I’m not so sure about that”

* The days creep by, reading books, eating snacks, it’s nice

* You learn, that Alec hasn’t talked to a human in a very long time. Outside of the screams he heard after devouring one.

* He hasn’t been outside the castle walls in many years, possibly a century.

* “What’s the best part of the human world?” He asked you once

* It’s the 90’s, so smartphones haven’t been invented yet.

* “One tree hill and friends”

* “Well you have a friend right here”

* “No friends the show”

* “The what?”

* And that’s how you got Alec hooked onto cable television

* Who knew the cure to vampire- sadism was a healthy dose of Jennifer Aniston fumbling about on screen

* “Is this what life is like?”

* You shrug, it was what college had been like for you in your past life.

* “It’s kinda what schools like, but i never got to be on my own”

* This body was only 18 after all.

* Alec doesn’t say anything, but his expression falters

* Alec’s only now starting to understand the life you will be denied once Aro decides when to turn you

* Jane joins later

* One day when you and Alec are lazing around the library when she appears, she says nothing, just sits down next to Alec and reads a book

* You’re sure they hear the uneven thumping of your heart as you turn back to your book. Her power doesn’t work on you, you remind yourself

* Not that she even needs it, she could snap you apart like a Kit Kat bar

* And if it came down to it, you’re sure Alec would let her, he might like you but his loyalty’s always remained with his sister

* “So... you watch human television together?” Her bright red eyes flickered from Alec to you.

* You nodded, never sure what exactly it was that would set Jane off

* You had seen enough in the books to know her moods were compatible at best.

* “I would...like to join” she awkwardly looking away, and you were sure if she could, she would be blushing.

* Honestly it’s kind of cute.

* “Sure, the more the merrier”

* And that’s how you basically adopted the sadist twins

* It’s a little harder to get Jane to open up, but once you make a comment about how Phoebe was the best character in friends, she starts to open up

* “Humans are cruel, even when they’re kind it’s only because they want something from you.”

* “Is that what you think about me? That I’m only nice to you because I want something?” she meets your eyes for a few minutes before turning away

* “I’m not sure”

* You understand very gradually why they’re so twisted

* They’d been treated terribly during their human life, in every kind act lingered a dark shadow, in even minor misunderstanding the image of a monster

* Their centuries in the Volturi didn’t help. Under Aro’s ruthless tutelage, and Caius’s sadistic tendencies, They had no one they could trust but each other.

* They were only surviving just as you were

* “Sometimes I wonder how much of my loyalty is real, and how much of it is Chelsea.” She whispers one day, so quietly you barley hear it

* You rest your hand on hers, it’s the only comfort you could think to offer

* When Jane grasps your hand in hers, she breaks every bone in your hand

* She doesn’t understand the pained screams or your mangled hand fit a second, and then she realizes what she did

* Alarmed she carries you halfway around the castle screeching for someone to help

* You pass out from the pain, when you come to you’re in your bed, a very cold hand holding your own

* “How are you feeling?” You don’t recognize this vampire, but you don’t really know anyone outside of Alec and Jane.

* You feel light headed, a warm feeling washing over you, you must be on some strong drugs

* “My body’s still grieving, but my mind is sharp.”

* It’s incoherent at best, but there’s truth to it, your body is still grieving for your parents and the life you’ve lost, but your otherworldly mind is ten steps ahead, cross referencing every action.

* The man offers a short chuckle

* “You really did a number on your hand. I’ve done what I can but...”

* You look down to your hand, half surprised by the bright yellow cast encasing it

* You had figured you would wake up to be a vampire, it just made sense, these were unfamiliar human aches to them after all and vampirism was a simple and effective cure

* They must want something from you, if they’re keeping you human

* You suspect it’s something along the lines of how they waited until Jane and Alec were burning at the stake to save them, so their power would be that much more potent

* Maybe they’re doing the opposite with you, trying to make you as happy as possible to see what effect it has on your ability

* It’s too bad you don’t have one

* “Thank you for your hard work.” You mumble, being human for a little bit longer is well worth the pain.

* “How did you break your hand?”

* “I held Janes’ hand”

* Your doctor let’s out a short laugh

* “That sounds about right”

* You smile, it does sound right, of course you would break your hand that way

* The conversation flows naturally after that, you talk about all sorts of things

* “You think vampires have souls?” He quirks an eyebrow

* “I’m of the opinion that a soul is something you create through hardship and struggle, being able to live longer means that you have more opportunities to have the experiences that result in a soul”

* “That’s an intriguing notion, I wish I had brought my son with me.”

* You’re about to ask about his son, when you’re interrupted by the door swimming open

* “I heard you were awake, are you alright?” Alec rushes in, his eyes frantic

* “Yeah these drugs are top notch” you press the button that releases the pain killers and let out a giggle

* “Is that alright? Humans are awfully sensitive.” Jane pipes up from behind Alec, you hadn’t noticed her in your haze.

* Your doctor chuckles

* “I’m aware,” he’s smiling but it’s strained

* “What’s wrong?” You ask, he was so calm until a second ago, he doesn’t answer you

* “I’ll give you three a moment.”

* You only register he’s gone when you hear the door close

* The twins rush over to you, Jane is kneeled by your side, while Alec hovers over you

* “I-I’m sorry I hurt you, I forgot-I didn’t remember.” You we’re sure Jane would be crying if she could

* “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it.” You raise your cast encased hand and give her a gentle pat on the head. “From now on, physical signs of affection will just be one sided.” You joke, which makes Jane grin

* “I’ll practice with some animals before I try touching you again”

* The three of you chat for a bit, they’re both surprised by your cast and ask several questions about its “primary function”

* “I didn’t know there was a doctor here” you murmur, feeling drowsy

* “Carlisle’s not with the Volturi, he’s from another coven in the new world.”

* Your drowsiness flies away in a second

* “That was Carlisle?”

* Jane looks somewhat confused but nods.

* A flutter of hope erupts in your chest, it’s so strong even your grief stricken body feels it

* You might have a chance. It’s slim, Carlisle has a family he loves and needs to protect. But still, they were strangers once too. No different than you.

* It’s a way out of here

* The next few days follow in a drugged haze, Alec and Jane visit every so often, and Carlisle engages you in occasional conversation while checking progress on your hand

* “Why are your eyes gold?” You know, but well, you need him to believe the lie

* “It’s a bit of a long story” he says with a wary smile.

* “I’m not going anywhere”

* He sighs, a genuine smile encompassing his face as he recounts the tale.

* Even though you’ve already heard it all before, it still makes you cry

* Even in the haze, you know something’s.... off

* There’s something about the way Alec won’t meet your eyes when he talks to you, and the uneasy weight that lingers in the air whenever someone else is in the room

* On the third day, it’s Aro who visits you, Alec and Carlisle in tow behind him.

* “Oh my, all that internal bleeding, how awful”

* Even you can feel the insincerity, but it’s the first you heard about internal bleeding

* So that explains it, the drugs and the aches all along your body, it wasn’t just your hand, you were dying

* “Don’t worry, we’ll save you” Aro’s smile is cruel “won’t we Alec?”

* Alec looks afraid, almost pained, but he nods

* Ah, so this was punishment for Alec too. Until that moment, when Jane broke your hand, Aro must have been ignorant to how close the three of you had gotten.

* You close your eyes, you knew this would happen eventually. There were only two ending to this story, and it seemed one had finally been picked

* You feel a pinch on your neck, right above your collar bone, no worse than a flue shot.

* You wait for the pain, the vivid screams you remember from the books and movies, but it never comes.

* Instead it’s just a warm numbness that spreads across your neck and left shoulder.

* “It doesn’t hurt” you murmur, you feel a cold hand rest against your forehead, Alex’s hand.

* It’s so gentle, he must have practiced on some animals first, you think.

* “No the pain comes later.”

* And so you drift into inky black unconsciousness, the last sleep of your human life in this world.

* You dream that you’re sitting at the bottom of a tree, a fig tree, like the one Sylvia Plath wrote about

* Each fig a different path, half of them have already fallen off, dark, as they rot at your feet

* “How do you do it?”

* You look to your side and find the person who’s face you see in the mirror, they’re hugging their knees to their chest, dark circles under their eyes

* “How do I do what?” You ask, they bite their lip

* “How can you be so strong when you’ve just lost everything?”

* You see their eyes brim with tears, and you look away, to the tree that looks over you both

* “I don’t know” It’s the truth, you have an unfair advantage in this world, because you know all the secrets each person carries, while yours remain shrouded in darkness. And yet... it’s not why you persevere

* “All I do know, is that I want to give them hell”

* Your counterpart grins at that, and to your surprise, you feel a smile stretch out across your face

* Yeah, it’s not about power, you just want raise some hell in this backwards misogynistic world.

* “I guess that’s the one you’re picking then huh?” Your counterpart points to a fig, it’s on the tallest branch of the tree, so far out of reach it almost seems unobtainable

* But you only nod

* “Yeah, I think that’s the way I’m going to go”

* They look at you and smile.

* “If you ever get the chance, I hope you punch that jerk Aro right in the face”

* You laugh.

* When you finally awake, you’re still laughing. A smile etched onto your face.

* Everyone’s there, all looking at you with concerned glances.

* Yeah, you’re going to have a lot of fun in this world.

#twilight #twilight saga #twilight imagine #twilight headcanon #Volturi headcanon #Alec imagine #edward cullen imagine #carlisle cullen #superhero--imagines

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animeyanderelover · 4 years ago

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Whoo, requests are open! Can I get Azusa Mukami, Ash Launders, Lau, and Grell Sutcliff with a darling who's a ghost, or something akin to one? Thank you, please take your time with this and remember to take breaks when you need to!

I recently talked about this with my friend, but both of us are amazed with how popular Ash actually is. He suddenly became so beloved in here. Not that I complain😏.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, paranoia, self-harming behavior, kidnapping, killing

Ghost s/o

Grell Sutcliff

🟥Grell is a grim reaper and for that probably met ghosts quite a few times ago. Ghosts are souls from people who didn’t find peace yet and whilst humans can’t see ghosts most of the time, other supernatural creatures can. Grell feels sometimes a bit sorry for ghosts whose souls are tight to this world until whatever doesn’t allow them to Rest In Peace is solved. There are exceptions though, it isn’t unheard that even after the issue was solved, ghosts decided to stay, mainly because they started enjoying life as an undead once again. So at one point such examples were counted in the supernatural community as well.

🟥If her darling should be a pure ghost, it depends on whether they still try to find a way out of this world or are one of those who decided to live forever as a ghost. If it’s the first one, she would definitely try to make her darling enjoy life once again since she doesn’t want them to leave. She wants to give them happiness once again and would try about everything to make them feel joy again. If it’s the latter case, she would switch from a worried mother mode in a totally fascinated one. She did meet ghosts before, but normally they are more of loners since they grief over whatever they couldn’t finish during life. So having a darling as ghost makes her more interested since ghosts aren’t that known to other magical beings.

🟥Hopefully you know how to manifest yourself or else Grell will get really pouty since she’s clingy. A ghost can learn to materialize their body so others can touch them even though that takes practice. Girl loves you just very much to the extent where she often wants to jump on you and tackle you in a hug after a boring day of work...which ends with her being met with the ground of you don’t know how to control it or did it on purpose. It also tends to scare her a bit if you suddenly pop somewhere up without her knowing since you can just walk through objects. There was this one time where you were looking for her, ending with your head popping up through the ground right in front of her. And Grell might be able to handle, blood, zombies and other gore stuff, but not this. It ended with her screaming startled.

🟥If you’re not dead, but just possess the possibilities of a ghost, the whole walking through walls and turning invisible stuff, you’re most likely a hybrid because believe it or not, in materialized form ghosts can create or bear children too. And half breeds have been since the earliest days always been a more risky topic. Many creatures are still lacking the openness to accept persons from two different kinds since many are still in the classic belief that only the same species should have children together. It leads her to being more overprotective over you since she doesn’t want you to endure hatred and racism from others. She’s fiercely overprotective in that regard.

Lau

🚢He has a weird fascination with such things, at least in my opinion. He might only be human, but he has awareness of the more otherworldly creatures on this planet and his assistant, Ran Mao, herself appears to be some sort of superhuman as well. He has probably heard a lot of ghost stories before, either from his own country or here, in England. And he is somewhat good in telling when a story was just made up so the person could suddenly gain attention or if there is a spark of truth in it. He has a nose for stuff like this and actually likes listening to such stories.

🚢So expect his obsession to very quickly grow if his darling should be a ghost even though he would hold himself back if they are unhappy due to their unfinished business. He is manipulative and is also, despite being good in hiding it from his darling, very greedy and mercenary. He might not show it, but he has every intention to make his darling stay with him, even if that means ensuring that whatever they need to do in this world will never be finished. If you are that kind of ghost who’s happy with their new life, he would be much more open with his curiosity, expressing his interest in your abilities and also backstory. Especially if you should be a lot more older than your appearance gives away, he would be keen on your story. If it should happen that you were murdered and the killer is still alive, that guy will join your kind maybe very soon if they have regrets in their life.

🚢He’s also interested in how your anatomy works since he’s an expert in it. He of course wouldn’t use you like some test subject, but he is just kind of interested how you are able to turn your whole body in one moment in something thinner than air and in the next moment into something that appears to be flesh and blood again. He also kind of likes it to touch through you since your transparent body has a certain coldness around it which gives him goosebumps. It’s a great contrast to when you have materialized and are in possession of a warm body which leads him to being even more touchy than usual. Lau finds it also always very amusing whenever you suddenly appear out of thin air, your abilities are such a breath of fresh air for him. He tends to be a bit surprised, but is good in hiding it with his usual mysterious smile.

🚢He can only guess that a half-ghost like you are one isn’t very beloved in this world. Lau of course doesn’t think you, he finds it highly interesting that you are a mix from two different species, he never thought ghosts could actually create babies. If there’s the possibility, he would like to meet your parents and talk with them, especially the parent who’s the ghost. It kind of leads him to wanting to isolate you a bit since he doesn’t want some other creature trying to kill you since different from a normal ghost you can get hurt by weapons and die like a normal human even though it’s harder to do.

Ash Landers

▫️Whilst he definitely is informed about all the other magical beings existing in this world, he stays away from pretty much everyone, even his own kind. Ash is just embossed from his obsession with purity and doesn’t think of anyone as really worth living since everyone is tainted by greed, lust, sloth and other unspeakable sins. He even hates his own kind since many angels protect the exact lowlife he wants to get rid off, believing that every life deserves living and given a chance. He is somewhat alone with his crazy goals, but he doesn’t mind.

▫️I think Ash with a ghost darling isn’t a very good mix, a horrible if I’m being honest. For the simple reason that you already died and merely your soul remains on this planet, either because of your own free will or because you carry a burden with you. You’re dead. That should say everything to why Ash is experiencing the true deepness of madness and terror someone could never possibly begin to imagine. He failed, he pathetically and utterly failed to protect the only person who actually deserved a happy and good life. It makes his whole life shatter, next to his already screwed up sanity. It does not matter if you were killed, died in an accident or because of a deadly sickness. The village you lived in will be blamed and slaughtered by him.

▫️He’s horrible to act with this because I have this terrible thought that he will not only not allow you to leave, but also desperately try to search for ways to somehow get your soul back into your body or will find a vessel in which you can live. He does not care if you want it or not, he doesn’t even really care if you’re happy or not. Dead is dead and he wants you alive. He would get incredibly prone and torn apart if you yell and cry at him that you don’t want it, that you want to die finally in peace or like being a ghost. You just don’t understand!! HE HAS TO MAKE SURE YOU’RE ALIVE AGAIN!!!

▫️With you being only something akin to a ghost, a hybrid in here, the situation would still be very tangled, but a bit less than with you being an actual ghost. I see Ash as someone who usually despises hybrids, but you are made the only exception from this. It isn’t worth saying that he isolates you since he would do this in all scenarios, even though he also does it in here due to fearing that someone might talk down to you because of your unidentified species. He kind of thinks he’s the only one who can truly cherish you for your whole beauty. You might have an advantage since you can just sneak past him whilst invisible, question is if you’re heartless enough to let innocents suffer under this because Ash can and will burn whole cities down if it leads him to getting you back.

Azusa Mukami

🔪I don’t think he ever met ghosts or other otherworldly creatures before even though he lived a pretty long life. It stands even open to question if he is aware of the existence such other creatures. Whilst he does know that vampires exist, he himself is a half-blooded one, he is not really too informed about other creatures and might even not really cared about it anyways before meeting his s/o. His brothers on the other hand considered the fact of other magical beings on this planet.

🔪He is saddened that you are already dead, it doesn’t matter since how long you’ve already been. It’s still very upsetting for him, especially if you should be mourning over something you couldn’t do in your life as well. I do see him as someone who might actually possess the selflessness to let you go if you’re really desperate despite knowing he’ll die without you. So it’s up to his brothers to find ways to bind you to this earth because they’re scared what Azusa will do if you should ever disappear and leave him alone for eternity. With a darling who likes their current body and is satisfied with themselves, Azusa will be happy as well and be in love with you and your fascinating powers.

🔪But please let him touch you. He is clingy and likes having physical contact with you and if you aren’t able to manifest yourself and hurt him, he will become overtime more desperate. His brother also realize the problem with you being able to escape anytime you want from them except if you make this place your new place to haunt for eternity which all of them hope. Whilst he does like feeling your actual warmth and body, he still finds your ghostly form appearing, the feeling of cold and lingering touches everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time. I do not know if ghosts possess blood or anything like this, I doubt it. So that means at least you don’t have to worry about him eventually giving in to temptation.

🔪He will never be able to understand if someone should dislike his s/o if they should be somewhat of a half breed. As I mentioned, I don’t think he really cared much about the possibility of other beings existing and certainly not a mix made from more than one species. It does add up to his worshipper tendencies since apparently people like you are not very common. He thinks you’re wonderful. As a half-ghost you might have blood inside of you, if it’s from a human is another thing to discuss. But Azusa is from all vampires the one who wouldn’t want to suck your blood, even if it drives him crazy. And even if his brothers try to force him, you can abandon your materialized form anytime for your ghost body. You give Azusa’s brothers honestly a bit of a hard time with your abilities, it’s mocking for them in a way.

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere grell #yandere grell sutcliff #yandere lau #yandere ash #yandere ash landers #yandere diabolik lovers #yandere azusa #yandere azusa mukami

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

Text

you’re so creepy | part i | jjk ver

Every campus has one. You know - the resident campus creepy girl. This campus has seven. All from in the boys’ POV.

summary: There are two types of people in this world: those who want Jungkook and those who pretend they don’t want Jungkook. Oh, wait. A third type? A vampire??

warnings: non-idol!BTS - university!BTS; 18+ for (very crude) language; alcohol consumption; (borderline) sexual harassment; maknae line nonsense; ends with kiss; Jungkook’s POV

Jeon Jungkook went to parties to hang out with his friends, not necessarily to pick up girls. Inevitably, he always ended up being cornered and having to politely refuse them. It wasn't that he wasn't interested; it was more like the girls that cornered him were... not quite his type. Aggressively suggestive to put it lightly. The type of girl who thought ‘no’ meant playing hard to get, thus giving him a bad boy status that he never asked for.

He really just meant no, not interested.

That's how he ended up on the staircase at this house party, hands up and shaking his head, as two girls tried to butter him up and ask him for his number. It was honestly tiring and he wasn't even listening to what they were saying anymore. One of the girls looked over her shoulder and smacked the other girl, temporarily losing interest.

"She really came."

It was his moment to escape. He was about to bolt, but one of the girls threw themselves against the banister, shouting.

"Hey, this isn't witching hour! Get out!"

There was an audible hush over the party. Curious, he peeked over the banister to see who she was talking to.

It was a young woman. His eyes widened seeing the black mesh shirt and clearly visible black bra underneath. She wore tight black skinny jeans with rips at the knees and black combat boots. A giant silver bat ring on one hand glimmered in the party lights. But that wasn't what identified her. The black, wide-brimmed hat gave it away.

It was the creepy vampire girl.

The hat tipped upwards and her face came into view. A black choker with a gleaming silver pentagram decorated her neck. Her eyes were lined with black and red, jagged and unkempt. Lips painted a blood-red, accented with the silver lip ring on the left side of her lower lip. Upon seeing the girls, her lips curled into a sneer, her white teeth bared. And there it was. The slight point to her canines, the very sight of them making the girls flinch. Word was that she had them done because she was in some kind of vampire cult. Jungkook had seen her walking to class during the day though, so she wasn't actually a vampire.

Hopefully.

"Oh? It's not bitching hour either, but it looks like your dumb asses were invited."

Jungkook burst out laughing, unable to control himself. That seemed to be the cue for the party to continue - the music resumed, the chatter returned, and all was well in the world.

The two girls huffed at him, immediately turning their heels and running down the stairs. Relishing in his freedom, he hurried back to his friends. He hadn't counted on the appearance of creepy girl to clinch his escape but he couldn't deny her good timing.

Seeing Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin chatting next to the drinks, he bounced up to them, throwing a hand over Jimin's shoulder.

"Hey guys, I'm alive!"

Taehyung snickered. "I see you managed to come back in one piece," he drawled in his deep voice, handing him a beer.

"Thanks to creepy girl, I'm safe for about ten minutes."

Jimin chuckled, clinking his cup against his. "You think she's really part of a vampire cult?"

Jungkook took a sip, making a face. The beer tasted as cheap as it cost. "Eh, is there even such a thing?"

"Her choice in outfit is interesting," Taehyung mused, making gestures around his chest.

Jimin turned his head to look around. "I didn't see; I was getting drinks."

Taehyung snickered and nudged Jungkook with his elbow. "So... you going to thank creepy girl for saving you from the sharks?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Not understanding, Jungkook gave him a confused look. "Should I?"

"Of course," Taehyung said briskly, "You have to thank your protector."

"She's not my protector?" It sounded more like a question than a retort.

"Unless you're scared, that is," Jimin chimed in. Jungkook got the impression he was being ganged up on. "Which we understand if you're too scared. She is a girl and all."

"I'm not scared of girls," Jungkook muttered.

"Then it'll be fine. Takes two seconds, yah?" Taehyung smirked.

He clicked his tongue. Taehyung and Jimin were grinning at him. Creepy girl was still creepy. But these two stupid jeering faces were telling him that if he didn't do it, he was going to be relentlessly teased for the rest of the night.

"Hmph, I'll be back."

He stalked off, weaving though the throng of people. Finding someone in all black shouldn't be difficult. He turned back to see Taehyung and Jimin following him eagerly. Bastards. He turned his head back and almost ran into someone.

Uh oh. The same two girls from before.

"Oh, Jungkookie, did you come looking for us?"

The use of the nickname made him cringe. "Er, no, I–"

"Don't be shy, we'll take good care of you–"

Oh please, send help. "Actually, I–"

"Hey, laughing boy. Move."

The hoarse voice startled the three of them and he turned around to see exactly who he was looking for. She raised an eyebrow, red lips half-open in a sneer. She was holding an open beer bottle.

"Looks like you want an infection tonight, laughing boy," she cackled, pushing him aside to open the glass door to the patio. The girls snapped at her in response, but he didn't hear them.

"... Wait!"

He followed her to the wooden railing where she was resting her elbows. Upon seeing him, she tilted her head, looking amused.

"Oof, bad idea, you're not going to get that gaping pussy now," she said, taking a swig of her beer.

He made a disgusted face at her crude words. Now that he was in front of her, it suddenly became awkward. How had Taehyung and Jimin convinced him to do this? His cheeks felt hot, but she looked away from him, staring out to the backyard pool where drunk university students were throwing themselves in.

"I'm not interested in them," he mumbled, more to himself than her.

"I thought Jeon Jungkook loves to get around." She grinned, tapping the glass bottle against the wood railing. "Genius film major, taekwondo prodigy, mega-hot body with a big dick Jeon Jungkook will take anyone home, right?"

He almost choked on air. "What? I'm not like that."

She turned back to him, licking her lip ring. "Heh, your ears are red."

He covered his ears instinctively with his hands and she chuckled, deep and rich. There was an awkward silence.

"It's there something you want or did you come to stare at my tits?"

He looked away immediately even though he had been looking at her face the entire time. "I just... uh..."

"I was just kidding by the way," she interrupted his stuttering. "I don't actually think you're a hot, big-dicked idiot."

"Oh." He wasn't sure if he was offended or relieved.

"Thanks for laughing at my stupid comeback earlier."

He blinked. "Actually, I came to thank you," he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. "Pretty sure you saved me from sexual harassment back there. I actually don't like those types of girls. They keep annoying me."

"Is that so?"

He turned his head to face her and found their faces centimeters from each other. He jumped and she grinned devilishly, her eyes flashing. His heart was racing at their sudden closeness.

"How you going to keep them away?"

"I... I don't know," he replied truthfully.

Her lips parted, the pointed canines gleaming in the low light. Her eyes shifted and he followed her line of sight, seeing the two girls from earlier watching them through the glass door. A chill ran down his spine seeing their predatory faces.

"Hey, laughing boy."

His vision was suddenly covered by a black, wide-brimmed hat. He whipped his face back, her lips a hair’s breath away from his. He could smell the mix of beer and cherry perfume. Her eyes were half-open, orbs in a sea of black and red eyeshadow.

"You think they'll still want you after you kiss a vampire?"

"What?"

His eyes widened as he felt her warm lips on his, contrasting with the cold and unforgiving metal hoop of her lip ring. She tasted like alcohol. A sharp nip on his lower lip made him whimper and she instantly backed up. He opened his eyes at the sudden coldness, not realizing he had closed them. One side of her lips curled upwards into a half-smile.

"Too bad there's no such thing as vampires."

after the kiss.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts drabble #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff

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jawritter · 4 years ago

Text

Twelve Days Of Christmas

Chapter 6,

Summary: Dean never realized that Y/N missed Christmas until he turned off an annoying Christmas song on the radio on the way home from a hunt, now he will make it his personal mission to give her the Christmas he misses so much, and if he plays his cards right, maybe he will give her what he has wanted to give her for so many years, himself.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Written For: @spnchristmasbingo

Square Field: Christmas Tree

Word Count: 2024

Warnings: Fluff, brief mention of past trauma, light angst.

A/N: This is to help me catch up on my SPN Christmas Bingo card lol Chapter 7 will post tomorrow! I knew chapter will post every day until Christmas! I know I’m insane lol. This is a real time fic collection and all mistakes will be my own! Please do not copy my work! Hope you all enjoy these!!

**SERIES MASTERLIST** **MASTERLIST** **BECOME A PATREON**

Snow, you had seriously never seen this much snow in your life. You were starting to think it was never going to stop snowing. It snowed all night long, finally slowing to light dusting somewhere around daybreak, and by the time you and Dean had pulled yourselves out of bed, it was evident no one was going anywhere until the snowplows came through to clear the roads, which could take a few days.

You were totally fine with the idea of hanging around the cabin today. It had been a busy week already. Dean had gone above and beyond what anyone had ever done for you already, and if today was just a day where you hugged out and did nothing, that was okay. Not every day had to be some grand adventure for you.

Dean, on the other hand, had been eyeing the cluster of small Canaan Firs on the back corner of the property all day. They were just big and full enough to make a small Christmas tree for the two of you. So, without much explanation other than, “get your coat and boots,” you followed Dean towards the little cluster of trees. The small ax he’d found in Baby’s trunk was swung over his shoulder as he trudged ahead of you through the almost kneed deep snow, making a path for you to easier walk in as he paved the way forward to his destination.

From a few paces back you could see the white flurries land on his broad shoulders as well as the back of his jacket and sock hat as he went, his large silhouette standing out in stark contrast to the snow as he pushed on forward through the unforgiving cold.

You could hear him humming along to a tune that you didn’t recognize as he turned over his shoulder giving you a little smirk while he watched you struggle to keep up with him through the deep snow. Being short wasn’t exactly working in your favor at the moment, and he paused, turning to fully face you with the ax still slung lazily over his shoulder much like he did his vampire machetes after a hunt.

“Need me to carry you Y/N/N,” he called sarcastically, and you childishly stuck your tongue out at him before answering.

“I’m doing just fine on my own Winchester!”

“Okay, Sweetheart, I was just offering since the snow is almost as tall as you are. I was afraid you’d fall into a drift and I wouldn’t be able to find you until the snow melted,” he teased, and you rolled your eyes dramatically.

“You just worry about getting us a tree cut down and stop worrying about me,” you tell him, earning a deep chuckle from him as he turned and started to make his way toward the tree line again.

The sun was starting to go down, it was late but you and Dean both had been pretty lazy today. Doing nothing but watching Christmas movies, you pick this time, and eat as much artery-clogging food as you could manage since you didn’t have Sam the health nut breathing down your throat. The darkening sky overhead cast an almost postcard type feel to the scenery around you, but your gaze was on the back of Dean’s head as he hummed along his way.

He looked particularly smug with himself as he kept making his way towards his goal, still chuckling as your footsteps crunch along behind him. Your inner child was screaming at you to not let him get away with that. So reaching down as you went, you grabbed a handful of snow in your gloved hands and started to pound it into a ball.

Just as Dean turned to make another comment about you talking all day to catch up to him, you launched the snowball, hitting him squarely in his broad chest, laughing as he looked grumpily from you to the show that still clung to the outer layer of jacket that was on his body before a smile carved by the devil himself appeared on those pink, wind kissed lips of his.

“Oh Baby, it’s on now.”

Reaching down on the ground in front of him, Dean grabbed a handful of his own snow.

You turn to try and run back towards the house for safety, but it was no use, he was taller and faster than you were. Before you could even take three steps you were nailed in the back with a larger snowball, and Dean’s laugh echoed through the cold air around you as you staggered a little.

You quickly try to gather up another snowball, but Dean was faster, quickly launching another and barely missing you as you ducked lower to the ground.

Deciding to change your tactics a little, you charge at him, hurling two more snowballs in his directions. He rolled across the ground to escape them, laughing as you cursed and scrambled to gather up more snow.

“Oh, now you want to play dirty? Well, you shouldn’t write checks you can’t cash baby girl,” he growled playfully, looking up from his sprawled out position with his eyes almost glowing with a childlike excitement you had never seen in Dean before.

Without warning he jumped off the ground, running towards you at an impressive speed. The sudden change totally threw you, and all you could was stand there like an idiot for a moment before turning on your heels and bolting back in the opposite direction.

Unfortunately, your pause was going to be your demise. Dean’s long legs carried him to you faster than you would have guessed possible, one long arm wrapping around your torso as the other grabbed a handful of fresh powder, dumping it down the back of your shirt and jacket.

You twist and try to get away from the cold, screaming and laughing until your lungs hurt. If anyone was watching they were surely going to think he was killing you. Both of you were laughing so hard at this point that Dean lost his footing, falling down on his backside and pulling you down with him, both of you lying there in the snow as you tried to catch your breath from your little snowball fight.

“Okay, truce?” Dean asked breathlessly, still smiling widely. The dim light of the winter evening casting the most gorgeous glow over the exposed skin of his face that you suddenly realized was very, very close to yours, and that you were still sitting on top of him.

For just a moment you contemplated revenge, but decided better of it, knowing Dean could turn the tables on you in an instant and suddenly have the upper hand again.

“Truce,” you agreed, slowly climbing off of him and helping him stand to his feet.

Dean kept up with your pace this time as you made your way towards the tree line, looking at the trees there. While all of them were full and beautiful, they were all a little too big up close to bring into the cabin.

“You know, there’s a box out in the woodshop labeled Christmas Stuff, bet there’s an artificial tree out there too,” Dean said, looking towards the shed that felt like it was a thousand miles away from you in the dimming light that stretched across the snow-covered lawn.

“You know, I bet you’re right, cause even if we get one of these bad boys cut we’d have to drag it all the way back up there,” you point out in a huff of white fog, and Dean nodded in agreement.

“Come on, hop up on my back and I’ll carry you there,” he offered as you gave him a shocked look. “Come on don't be stubborn.”

“Okay,” you agreed reluctantly as Dean knelt down in front of you in the snow for you to wrap your arms around his neck while his gloved hands came to your thighs, hoisting you up as if you weighed nothing at all.

It didn’t take him nearly as long as it would have taken the both of you walking to reach the woodshop, and as you slipped down from his back and turned on the light, you noticed the welding torch Dean had been using when he planned on taking the “big splash” still laying on the workbench and froze.

Dean noticed your hesitation and followed your gaze with his own before pulling a heavy and on his shoulder.

“Come on baby girl, let’s not dwell on the past okay? That’s not why we’re here.”

You knew he was right, but the thought of him out in the middle of the ocean, buried in a metal coffin, trapped with Michael terrified you to this day. In fact, you still had nightmares about it even if you would never tell him that.

You let Dean guide you to the back of the shed, quickly finding boxes of decorations and Christmas lights of all sorts, and finally a tree.

“Got it!” Dean yelled excited, producing a box marked “Christmas Tree,” and adding it to the growing pile of decorations on the ground.

“Great, let’s get it to the cabin, I’m freezing,” you tell him. You weren’t really all that cold, but wanting to get away from this room where he’d almost literally created his sealed fate. Dean picked up on your hurry, and nodded, grabbing the boxes he could along with the Christmas tree and following you back into the warmth that awaited in the cabin. You didn’t really take a breath until you were back in its warm enclosure.

Dean dropped his boxes on the ground, coming up and taking yours from you before slipping his arms around your waist and hugging you tight into him.

“You okay Y/N,” he asked after you finally returned his hug, holding on to him like he might disappear in front of you if you let him go.

“I’m fine,” you lie, but Dean saw through it, he knew you all too well, he knew that seeing that had bothered you even though you were trying to hide it.

“Hey,” letting go of you he pulled a glove free of his hand with his teeth and placed it to the side of your face, making you look up into his astonishing green eyes. “I’m still here, and I don’t plan on going anywhere any time soon.”

You nod and lean your head into his chest as his fingers glide their way through your hair and calm your racing heart a little.

“Tell you what, that’s enough adventure for tonight. We can decorate tomorrow, right now I’m going to make you some Winchester Surprise for dinner and we can get drunk and prank call everyone that’s stone age enough to still have a number in the local phone book there.”

You hadn’t expected that, but the thought of Dean calling someone and asking them if their refrigerator was running had you cracking up in spite of yourself. Just like that, all the bad melted away as his lips pressed lightly to your forehead, and removed your jacket for you. Just like that, he chased away the bad memories again, leaving only a peace you had never felt until this moment in its wake.

Sure the two of you had both been through your share of hell, in Dean’s case literally, but you had never seen it until right then how much you needed him and how you weren’t willing to live without him. He was your person, and you just wished you could be his.

Even though the past tried to drag itself back up to haunt you, standing in the kitchen with Dean and helping him cook his favorite meal for the two of you felt so natural that you wouldn't have ended day 8 any other way. No matter what happened after Christmas was over, this memory would be your favorite of them all. Just you and Dean, being together in a rare slice of normal, what more could a hunter ask for?

Forever Tags:

@deandreamernp

@forgetthisbull

@miraclesoflove

@deanwanddamons

@rvgrsbrns

@chevyharvelle

@onethirstyunicorn

@i-love-superhero

@lyss-dw79

@magssteenkamp

@lemondropirwin

@squirrelnotsam

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@defenderrosetyler

@screechingartisancashbailiff

@thecreatiivecorner

@vicmc624

@busy-bee-angel-misska

@justanotherwinchester

@brilovesdeanwinchester

@idksupernatural

@lyarr24

@amandamdiehl

@miraclesoflove

@emoryhemsworth

@dean-winchesters-gardian-angel

@softsebastian

@tatted-trina6

@anaelsbrunette

@hayleeharling

@flamencodiva

@coldmuffinbanditshoe

@dirty-pan-goblin

@itmejado

@supernatural3002

@teresa-67

@thoughts-and-funnies

@hearteyes-j2

@miss-nerd95

@writers-whirlwind

@peaches007

@bobbie3939

@lunarmoon8

Jensen and Dean’s babes

@akshi8278

@love-jackles-37-blog

@supernatural-bellawinchester

@bobbie3939

Dean’s Babes

@forgetthisbull

Series Tag list:

@440mxs-wife

#dean winchester #spnchristmasbingo #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester series #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean x reader #dean x you #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn series #jawritter #twelve days of christmas

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roguemonsterfucker · 3 years ago

Note

How many OCs do you have in total? Please tell me a bit about them

In total???? 😨

Probably hundreds. I've been 'writing' my entire life. I still have OCs living in my head from when I was five years old (good ol' Mr. Lion).

The ones I've talked about here are my main ones at this time. So I guess maybe I have ten current OCs I'm actively thinking about/writing about.

Hmm I never know what to tell about my characters when not asked specific questions. I guess maybe just a short overview of each of my main active characters...

Damian: He/him pronouns for him. He's a pansexual trans vampire that's a thousand years old (more depending on which part of his story I'm writing lol). He's also polyamorous, so even though he's married to Vikram, he often has other relationships. And also just enjoys casual sex. He LOVES to cook for people he cares about. Actually, he just loves doing anything to benefit the people he loves. Giving gifts, cooking, doing anything he can to help them or make them happy. Sometimes he goes overboard with this and it actually isn't good. 😬 Like the one time he gifted someone a cat, not realizing they were allergic, because they had talked about how much they wanted a cat. Don't worry, he ended up keeping the cat so it all worked out! But still, he needs to give more thought to the things he does for people sometimes. He also can get really annoyingly pouty when someone refuses to accept his gifts. He's working on that, though.

Vikram: He/him pronouns. Also pansexual and polyamorous. He's over 15,000 years old and a werewolf. Vikram has a very calm and warm presence. You will rarely hear him raise his voice and when he smiles, you can't help but feel like everything's gonna be okay. Despite his imposing size (6'6 and a pretty big guy overall), he just puts people at ease. One of the reasons he is so chill is because he worked to become that way due to being a werewolf. During full moons when he loses control, the werewolf reflects his mood and behavior as a human: so if he were to be very angry all the time, the werewolf would be very aggressive. And so Vikram spent a lot of time and effort to become a very calm person so that he isn't dangerous to anyone on full moons. He can shift purposefully outside of full moons, but when he does that, he retains control of himself.

Kadan: He/him and She/Her pronouns. He's a hundred year old werewolf with a rough past. I won't go into detail here (I think I did in another post, but if anyone's interested feel free to ask). Kadan can shift his body to pass as a cis woman or cis man, depending on her mood. He discovered this ability accidentally and changed at first as a way to keep safe, as people assigned his gender at birth in his community are NOT treated well. But he gradually realized he liked being able to be whatever gender he wanted and so started IDing as bigender. Kadan can be hotheaded sometimes, a stark contrast to his twin brother, Kaegan, who always seems to keep his cool in stressful situations. But to be fair, Kadan hasn't had much time to actually be a person, due to being locked up in a cell for a hundred years in her werewolf form...

Orion: He/him but he isn't picky. He's an incubus that feeds on the energy released when a person experiences an orgasm. He's a new character, so I'm still working on him. He uh... has issues understanding boundaries.

Alex: He/him. Alex is a centaur, but not from a fantasy world. He was created Jurassic Park style. He comes from a facility where many fantasy creatures are brought to life. Since the human body wasn't actually meant to be attached to a horse body, he has a lot of chronic health issues and pain. I'm still working on his personality.

Tharzaroth: I use he/him for him but his kind doesn't define gender as humans do. He is species that lives in a dimension just next to ours. His kind often are summoned by humans to make deals/grant wishes and are called demons due to that and their appearance. They have seemingly magic powers in our world, but no such abilities in their own world. Tharzaroth is very calm and gentle, but still learning about humans so he sometimes says or does things that may upset or offend a human.

B.D: Any pronouns, but I use he/him for the character. He is a dragon with the ability to take on a more humanoid form. His family, for a while, ruled a human kingdom. Still working on his personality.

Rh'ex: He/him. My beloved nerd boy. 🥺 He is a yautja (the species from Predator). He's a scientist who specializes in the study of humans. He's very curious and loves learning about anything, but humans are his special interest. This can drive him to be a bit invasive with questions and other things sometimes. 😅 When he cares about someone, he can be a bit... overly protective. He tries to prevent any amount of stress or distress, even when maybe he shouldn't.

Talia: She/her. Talia's a bisexual human in her 20's. The star of my story The Strange Life of Talia MacDonald. Her main personality trait is that she's a doer. She's not gonna sit at home and wait for the story to come to her. She goes out and does whatever needs to be done, even if... she probably should let other folks take the reins.

Azalea: They/them. They are a nonbinary immortal witch, and they make an appearance in The Demon Possession. It's hard to pin down anything about them, but the characters that meet Azalea would say they're a trouble maker. It seems like they like to do things just for their amusement, like turning Damian into a vampire and Vikram into a werewolf. Yep, that was them! It makes you wonder, what is their true motivation?

Wow that's a lot. I don't know that that's everyone but my fingers hurt now lol

#rogue's original writing

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rockmiyabideusexmachina · 4 years ago

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2021 Megaman Valentine’s Day Contest Results

Among the many things this past year or so has tested us with is delays, and I apologize that this year’s Valentine’s Day contest results are included in that. I certainly did not plan on this taking until March to get completed, and I am sincerely sorry to have kept you all waiting. But hopefully it is all worth the wait!!

Thanks once again to every single one of you who participated! I will be contacting the winners soon enough. Work will probably keep me from replying to everyone immediately, but I will send a message about prizes hopefully within 24 hours.

Also, my thanks to @subzeroiceskater for helping out with judging this year. Not to mention the promo pic above and other assorted bonuses that always bring me a big smile. I might say this seemingly every year, but you all made judging this VERY hard. It might have something to do with the themes as well, but I think both of us flipped and rearranged our rankings repeatedly, and even then, it was hard to decide on who would place. XD Each one of you did an amazing job!

After the break, you’ll see the winners for both categories, along with all of the entries. Raffle prize winners will be noted below by their alias, as well.

Category 1: Kiss From a Rosered (Talent)

For our talent category this year, the theme focused on your favorite Megaman characters giving roses to their special someone, along with incorporating the symbolism of specific rose colors within the piece. That rose color was also to be the predominant color within the piece, to the best of your ability.

A grand total of 9 entries were submitted for this category. You can see the full gallery of all entries at full-size [HERE]. Each entrant’s name will also link to their individual pieces at full-size.

1.) Sapphire: *$100 prize*

Subzeroiceskater said:

Oooooh, this is so cute and pink! Piiink~ Ehem. I love the depth, angle, and color grading of these—notice how Roll’s black linework is at the forefront of the pic but colors mixes with the lights and colors from the sun further along the pic. There’s a lot to admire about how everything easy to read with so many competing elements like the similar hues and bright lighting.

Pink roses usually mean a gentler sort of love but did you know that different shades of pink could signify different things as well? A darker shade may mean gratitude; medium shade could be about a first love or congratulations while a light shade may mean admiration. Tron holding a singular pink rose with varying shades of pink while literally tripping over herself and a Servbot could only mean—that this is hilarious.

Miyabi said:

From a technical standpoint, I think your piece clearly felt the most polished, crisp and virtually professional of the bunch. But more than that, I felt it also best gave off the vibe of the rose color dominating the piece, but in very subtle, beautiful ways. Where as the pink sunset causes many of the normally white areas, like Roll’s collar/sleeves, parts of Gustaff, and more, to ooze that pink lighting. Even with her klutziness, you still also portrayed the feeling of sweetness, admiration and appreciation that a pink rose conveys. Just so pretty, calming, and joyful to look at!

2.) Forceway: *$75 prize*

Subzeroiceskater said:

There is a sort of gentle irony with how Skull Man and Shade Man are both robots modeled after horror symbols—skulls and vampires—but are here surrounded by a soft sea of pink roses. The dark night is often depicted as a primal fear because it hides our deepest fears but here—illuminated by the bright shining moon—the night is transformed into a scene of love—perhaps devotion, with how Shade is gently cradling Skull, as well with the church bell in the background. This is a very tender piece mixing the shadows and the sweet.

Miyabi said:

I know most digital art programs have the brushes and shortcuts to make detailing things like roses a lot easier, but your bed of roses certainly look all done by hand on your own, and that alone impressed me a ton! Based off of the Ariga Megamix tale of Skull Man not feeling appreciated or having a family after Cossack stored him away, I felt the pink roses and Shade showing him that he is actually appreciated here was a fantastic conceptual choice. Purples in the sky and Shade’s body split the canvas and contrast with the pink well, including how you used the pink for some of the stars in the sky. Beautiful job!

3.) DigitallyFanged: *$50 prize*

Subzeroiceskater said:

Yellow is a bright color, often evoking the sun, warmth, light, joy and hope. With roses, its positive connotations continue with possible meanings of friendship, care and remembrance. Tabby’s piece seems to evoke the last one the strongest—with Zero, broken and forgotten in a lab—but, not entirely, because of a bond that is stronger than apparent death lives on—even if in this moment, it’s only a memory. Even the roses are not real—just projections of what was once alive. This is fantastic use contrast with the dark, moody blues against the vivid, almost defiant yellows; and the repeated little motifs such as X crying and the water drops falling all over Zero. It stands out from the rest of happy entries with how sad it is but it still manages to be hopeful.

Miyabi said:

Zero’s blonde locks certainly are an iconic part of his design, so playing off of that and focusing on yellow as your rose color fit perfectly. You definitely made this a very emotive piece considering technically, neither of these two are even alive and moving here! As mentioned above, the little details like the water droplets balancing against Cyber Elf X’s tears, the digital lines to make it appear like X has created the cyber-roses for Zero, and Zero’s battle damage caught my eye immediately. You certainly captured the yellow rose symbolism of remembrance and friendly affection beautifully!!

And the rest of the wonderful entries, in alphabetical order by alias:

AbilityField: [Page 1] [Page 2] [Page 3] [Page 4]

*Raffle Prize Winner* Captain N Mega Man Cel

Subzeroiceskater said:

It’s so poetic about how this contest theme is about how the language of flowers is used to communicate feelings beyond just using words; and so, the comic is completely silent, relying on actions to convey its meaning. Yellow roses could mean friendship, care and affection; and it’s shown wonderfully with how Iris and Lan are so thoughtful with one another. It’s so cute how Iris missed Lan only because he was already out buying roses for her. Given how hard comics are to make and how this is fully colored, I really wanted to give this first place—however I felt the color usage of yellow could have been stronger, especially with the last page, where it would have had the most impact. I had to squint and zoom out to even see if the lighting had changed. Still, it’s such a very warm and lovely work.

Miyabi said:

I always appreciate the effort people put into making multiple-page comics for these contests, and this is no exception! Even without dialogue, you did a great job at conveying your story through your art in each panel and it was easily understandable. Another utilizing the yellow rose, I certainly felt the friendship and warmth in your tale. As Subzero mentioned, the only thing keeping it from placing was that the yellow colors weren’t as dominant in other areas of the pic, besides the panel by Sal. Still, your coloring was very crisp and vibrant throughout each page, and it was an awesome submission!

aw-colorcat:

Subzeroiceskater said:

With the red for Metal Man, orange for Cut Man and the explosion of yellow flowers, that’s the trifecta of warm colors. Yellow roses could mean delight and this pic is delightful in all ways. Cut looks so cute practically swimming in the sea of flowers and greenery, as does Metal’s adorable expression—which is a feat since he only shows his eyes. I also really like the juxtaposition and balance of this piece from: the rust-brown car against green-yellow nature running wild, and Metal holding a bouquet meanwhile Cut’s covered with plants. It makes me want to get some fresh air myself!

Miyabi said:

Cut Man looks grateful for being able to ride in that pickup bed of flowers, and I have a feeling the two of them had a wonderful time just snipping and sawing away at all the stems to gather them all. XD Love how the yellow and oranges play off of both character’s color schemes nicely. The subtlety of the yellow flowers in the foreground, along with the sun and tree in the background all play off each other well, too! Just an absolutely cute pic!

Dark-Dullahan:

Subzeroiceskater said:

What a fantastic composition. Dark-Dullahan does away with most color, leaving the colors of the mixed-bouquet roses as the main focal point. Classic red for romance, a gentler pink for affection, mixed yellow roses to signify caring and probably so much more—seems like Nana can’t contain her feelings for Massimo. I love how the close up of the bouquet doesn’t just form a kind of heart at the top but serves as the divider between the two, like a diptych. With such a wonderful offering, Massimo would surely accept her feelings.

Miyabi said:

As you brought to my attention, your mixed bouquet had a few different meanings, such as the dark pink representing thanks to Massimo for saving Nana from Silver Horn, and the red tips on the yellow roses to symbolize falling in love. Certainly got those vibes from her shy demeanor, as she sheepishly tries to hand them to him. Also agree with Subzero that the line from the bouquet nicely works as a way to separate them uniquely with the background. Sorry you weren’t able to complete it as fully as you had hoped, but the concept behind it certainly was strong!

Donnie:

Donnie also sent in an alternate version made during the creative process, in a different artistic style, that I still feel needs to be shared, as well. Fun to see the contrast, yet still have the same feeling and mood to the piece.

Subzeroiceskater said:

Oh, I adore this one. It reminds me of a movie poster with the tagline. I love the extra PINK flourishes of the letterings like with the Mega Man logo color change and cute pixelated font and heart. Both Rock and Roll’s expressions are so cute, too—with his more subdued smile contrasted with her exuberant grin. Much like how the pink rose could mean many things like thoughtfulness, cheer or as a show of appreciation, this piece is positively sparkling with affection, hearts and all. It’s clever how the sunset is giving the picture an overall pinkish-red hue while having the yellow light as an outline. A darling piece.

Miyabi said:

With pink roses again, I truly liked the additional hue adjustments where you can feel the warmth and see the lighter pink mixed into their skintone, or areas normally of white - from eyes to teeth to the Megaman logo - that have taken on the pink in it’s place. With the painterly watercolor style you used, it all blends in nicely. Even in your earlier version, I feel you brought a strong game with the hues, but toned down the red from that version to make it feel much stronger towards pink, with a tighter crop of your canvas. It was fun to see how it evolved, and strengthened your piece in doing so! Fabulous job!

DragonMarquise:

Subzeroiceskater said:

No better way to show how madly in love you are than a bouquet of roses that run the gamut of—I can’t call these warm colors because these passions are running hot. Orange seems to be the dominant color here—which in roses could symbolize a love that’s passionate, fierce and deep. It’s also expressed nicely with the two lovers embracing, engaged in mid kiss, their bodies also forming a subtle heart shape, to emphasize the flurry of hearts around them. The bouquet is not just orange roses, however, but a mixed bouquet of the classic romantic red and the more affectionate pink—it’s a piece that’s bursting with all degrees of love.

Miyabi said:

You also certainly mastered the limited color pallette challenge as you tackled this piece! Orange, the color of passion, is certainly felt in their deep kiss and embrace. I too caught the heart shape their heads essentially form, which is then further enforced with the heart of hearts behind them. I thought that concept was pulled off very well. Perfect for the fiery intensity of Match, this turned out to be a very hot pic!

Mattasaurs:

Subzeroiceskater said:

This one has a very clever framing (eh? EH?). The color white is often associated with purity, innocence and hope, and with white roses—weddings and marriage. Sonia dons the classic white wedding dress which has a très élégante design—and the little Lyra on her belt is very cute. The pink background is also very romantic and a nice way to tie in with her theme colors. I dig the lovey-dovey feel of Geo doing the classic bridal carry while clasping a single white rose...but seeing the thorns, I think he better watch his hand!

Miyabi said:

For a theme emphasizing color within the pic, I salute you for taking the biggest challenge in choosing white. In many ways, it could have been the hardest to keep as a predominant color, but still make the pic interesting and visually appealing. Choosing to have the petals all around the frame, with the bouquet nearby was a clever touch. With white often used for weddings and new beginnings, I think the concept of your piece worked just right, where it was subtle, but still incorporated enough other color to give the piece some life.

Category 2: Kawaii-rimi (Humor)

For our humor category this year, the theme focused on your favorite Megaman character gifting the plush form of another Megaman character to their crush, instantly created by a ninja-like character, to play off of the Kawarimi concept from the EXE series.

With just 3 entries in our humor category this time around, every entrant placed. You can see the full gallery of all entries at full-size [HERE]. Each entrant’s name will also link to their individual pieces at full-size.

1.) Mattasaurs: *$100 prize*

Subzeroiceskater said:

Y’know how blocks of wood are sometimes used by ninjas when they do that whole body switching thing? I think it’s clever how this pic has Sal—Woodman.exe’s operator—conjuring the doll. Everything about the pic is so fun and colorful: from Sal’s mischievous grin of accomplishment, Miyu being completely shocked by her chibi doppelganger (check out that body language!) and Masa’s confused expression.

Miyabi said:

Yes, while to some, Sal might not be the first one they think of when they think ninja in the Megaman Universe, but I certainly thought she still fits the bill in her design. Usually we don’t see this much emotion or shock out of Miyu, so seeing her torque her body, taken aback at a doll of herself, is amusing in it’s own right. Meanwhile, nothing fazes Masa. And a bit of randomness: oh man, seeing Masa’s head in profile, with his bandana...wow, I never realized how much his head shape with the bandana looks like a fish’s. I can’t unsee it now. Anyways, I also agree that the color, polish, and fun vibe made this a worthy winner!

2.) ColeManX: *$75 prize*

*Raffle Prize Winner* Captain N Cutsman Cel

Subzeroiceskater said:

E-Eyes? What did you mean by that, Mr. RT-55J? Although judging from the sparkle on those booblights… I understand, Cinnamon—if that happened to me, I’d be making asides to the camera, like I was in “The Office”, too. Cinnamon’s enthusiastic smile with this whole bizarre scene really sells it for me but shoutout to Marino’s smug satisfaction in the background.

Miyabi said:

🎵 I kind of liked it your way How you shyly placed your eyes on me Did you ever know That I had mine on you?🎵

RT says it only has eyes for Cinny right now, but it’s also known to be a little grabby hands, so I don’t know if I’d fully trust it...but good thing this is just a plush version. Time for the tables to be turned, and Cinnamon to get her claws and paws on it, instead. Very cute, although after the DiVE V-Day event, we all know this is a ruse and your pal boobeyes only belongs to the Ferham Fanclub. XD

3.) Ronin-Apprentice: *$50 prize*

Subzeroiceskater said:

This whole comic is so sweet and fluffy, nya! ~(=^‥^)ノ☆ It’s adorable how Proto brings up his gift first and the surprise is how Shadow handmade his gift. The little cat-eared Blues design is so darling--almost as cute as him fussing how totally NOT a cat he is. “Did you steal my cat.” had me snorting. Now I’m wondering where Tango went off to…

Miyabi said:

FU-SION-HA!

Aside from getting his own Super Adaptor, this is probably the closest we’ve got to seeing Tango and Blues merged as one. LOL I’m sure that plush would have a ton of fans wishing it actually existed. The panels where Blues embarrassingly hides behind his scarf and gets pet like a cat had me laughing! Very cute and adorable comic, that certainly had the most depth in terms of the theme of this category!

#Rockman #Megaman #Mega Man #Rock Miyabi's 2021 Megaman Valentine's Day Contest #Fanart Contest

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msmarvelouswinchester · 4 years ago

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The One Where Everything Goes Wrong - 1

Summary - Dean Winchester is the most charming man you have ever met so when he asks you out on a date, you say yes because what can be better than going on a date with Dean but sometimes somethings don't go the way you have planned them.

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader; Sam Winchester

Warning - Fluff, Angst-ish, mentions of hydrophobia, and fear of sharks, panic attack

Word Count - 2550

A/N - This is a collaboration with @miss-nerd95/. @bucky--barnes . It has been planned and written by both of us. This will be a two parter! Hope you like it.

Spn dividers by @talesmaniac89

You threw your head back, groaning in frustration. There wasn't a single piece of clothing that you felt was appropriate for your date. Skimming through the closet for the third time, you glared at all the different pieces of flannels, flip side of being a hunter, before you finally noticed the long floral dress at the back of your closet.

“This will work,” you muttered to yourself as you picked the dress, happy that you found something worthy.

Dean Winchester, a name that was enough to make the demons of hell and the angels of heaven tremble with fear but for you he was just Dean, the man who had successfully stolen your heart at the very first ‘hello’, so you needed the date to be perfect. Even though you were head over heels for him, you never uttered a single word about how you felt and neither did he. The fear of being rejected by him, hearing him say that he didn't feel the same kept your mouth sealed shut for a long time.

So it all came as a surprise when you were lying on the bed in a motel room with aching muscles because of a rough hunt and mind filled with the vicious words exchanged between you and Dean and the door to your room slightly opened, revealing the said man standing in the doorway with an unreadable look on his face. It all happened so quickly as Dean crossed the room in long strides to stand at the foot of your bed and confess his feelings for you, no longer wanting to hide it in case something bad happened.

After putting on your dress, as you touched up on your makeup, you smiled softly remembering the fond memory of his lips on yours for the first time that night before he asked you out on date. You looked at yourself in the mirror feeling content with how you looked.

Yet unbeknownst to you, Dean was running around in the bunker like a headless chicken trying to plan the perfect date.

“Will you sit down for a minute?” Sam rolled his eyes at his brother who was pacing across the war room, eyes focused on the floor, lost in thought.

“She loves junk food right?” Dean asked, at which all Sam wanted to do was punch him.

“You know her better than me, but to answer your question, yes, she loves all those greasy food items which increase your body cholesterol. No wonder you're made for each other, but I really feel sorry for when you'll have kids,” the younger Winchester smirked.

“Stop teasing, you don't get it! I love her, Sammy-”

“I don't get it? Dude, I was the one who was sick of both of you dancing around each other,” Sam grumbled, “if it wasn't for me pushing you out of that door back after that hunt, you wouldn't have asked her out. Now stop freaking out like a fifteen year old going on his first date!”

“I'm not freaking out. I'm just nervous,” Dean said.

“Wow, would you look at that? Dean Winchester, the ladies’ man, is nervous about a date,” Sam chuckled.

“Shut up.” Sam rolled his eyes at the green eyed hunter for the second time that morning, “She makes me nervous. What if I fuck up?”

“Don't worry. Everything will be fine. I just can't believe I'm the one giving you dating advice right now.”

“Shut. Up. And I know it's going to be fine. I have it all planned out. A visit to the aquarium and then a little picnic underneath the stars, she's going to fall in love with me,” Dean made a sound which resembled a giggling teenage boy.

Sam was grinning until he processed the words. “Wait. An aquarium?”

“Yeah, why are you saying it like that-”

“Dean,” you stepped into the war room, interrupting the brothers. Out of habit, you were about to bite your lip but you remembered the lipstick you had put on, so you just settled for playing with the ring on your finger, waiting for their reaction.

Both the Winchesters just stared at you, mouth opened which made you more anxious. Was there something on your face? Shit, you looked around the War Room where Dean had asked you to meet once you were ready, why didn't they have any mirrors in here?

Clearing your throat, you shifted your gaze on the man standing beside his brother, the latter sitting on one of the chairs of the table. He looked dapper in the dark jean jacket which he traded for his usual plaid and contrasted it with a plain white tee he wore underneath Although you loved seeing him wrapped in flannel,this new look of his made you go weak in the knees and you sure would have melted into a puddle on the spot had Sam not interrupted your thoughts.

"You look beautiful, Y/N." He harshly nudged Dean, at which the latter glared at him before looking back at you. Nodding, he almost sounded like he was in a daze. "Yeah, you look great, sweetheart."

You blushed, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, "Thank you, you don't look too bad yourself. Shall we go? You still haven't told me where we're going Dean."

Sam got up from his seat and spoke hurriedly, "Yeah about that, Dean, I don't think-"

Dean narrowed his eyes, "I'm telling you for the third time, shut up. Don't ruin the surprise."

"But-"

"Nope, we're going now. Sweetheart, are you comfortable in those heels? We may have to walk a bit."

You waved goodbye at Sam, who dejectedly sat back down, pinching the bridge of his nose once you were out of the door. This was going to end in a disaster.

“Milady.” Dean held Baby's door open for you, one hand on the handle and another on the window of the black impala. The tips of his ears turned red when your hand touched his as you slid into the passenger's seat.

You gave him a nervous smile, as he walked to the other side and got into the driver's side, pulling the Impala out of the Bunker’s garage

You looked out of the window as Baby’s engine purred, the scenery familiar as you drove out. Glancing at him, you prodded, "Can you please tell me where we're going? You know I don't like surprises."

Dean's tongue peeked out to sweep across his bottom lip, as he stole a glance your way. He chuckled before focusing back on the road.

"You'll find out when we get there." You huffed in annoyance, crossing your arms indignantly as you looked away.

"Aw, sweetheart don't be like that." Rolling your eyes, you held in a smile as you shook your head. "Not until you tell me where we're going."

Dean laughed at your pout, "I can just tell you that you're gonna love it.

You uncrossed your hands, your left tracing the outline of the almost rolled down window, the other on the seat beside you. A blush crept up your cheek when you felt his hand clasp yours, fingers entangling.

"I guess I'll let you off the hook just this once. But at least tell me how much time we need to get there."

He squeezed your hands in his as he beamed at you, eyes shining. "We're almost there. We ain't leaving Kansas City."

And so you relaxed as you moved closer to him, your head resting on his shoulder until a huge building with 'Sea Life' written on it with pictures of the habitats of the same appeared in front of you.You visibly paled as you realized that the Aquarium was where you were heading, thankful that Dean couldn't see your face.

"We're going in there?"

You felt him nod lightly. "Yup!"

Why he didn't notice the quiver in your voice you didn't know, but you surely heard the excitement in his as he parked the car. And that's when you decided, you were going to tough it out, everything else be damned.

After all, it wasn't everyday that you went on dates with Dean; if you could face the vampires that killed your parents, you could certainly walk through those rooms which had glass separating you from water and the creatures-

Nope, you weren't going to think about it.

But as he got out of the car and walked towards your side, offering his hand to you with a shy smile, you returned it. You climbed out of Baby, taking his hand into yours.

Well, this could work if you put all of your attention on Dean instead of, uh… your surroundings.

You could feel your heart beating loudly against your chest as you walked through the doors, Dean showing them the tickets and the hopeful look he sent your way made you swallow your apprehension and the request him to move your date someplace else. You nodded at him, somehow conjuring up a small smile for his sake.

Showing you the small catalogue, he started listing the types of the creatures that were in the aquarium, telling you that there was a special exhibit they had just built and couldn't wait to see it. You could tell that he had planned this out and you just couldn't mess it up. You knew he was loving the aquarium tour since you had seen him spending time in the Dean Cave - watching Shark week.

His hand was still in yours as he pulled you towards the first tank and you immediately closed your eyes when you saw that you were nearing the big blue filled with small blobs of other colors, not realizing that you had stopped until you felt a tug, opening them to see beautiful green orbs narrowed in concern.

"You okay, Y/N?"

You bit your bottom lip, a small "Yeah," coming out of your mouth, hoping he was convinced.

Well, as it turned out, he did. You shoved your face in his shoulder, thankful for the double layers on his skin because he couldn't feel your breaths becoming rapid as the room became colder the further you walked in, but at least you had Dean, a literal human furnace to distract you, his hand warm in yours.

"You're excited right?" His voice was giddy as he asked. "Of course," you answered, cringing at the high pitch of yours.

When you finally reached it, you left his side to go to the small metal plate at one end of the exhibit bearing the information as he looked at the fishes, "Hey Y/N, you gotta see this one, it's called an Angel fish. It looks awesome with streaks of brown and black. Don't you think it kinda looks like Cas?" You laughed at that, but you weren't going to look at the fish, not even if your life depended on it.

"Yeah! Click a picture to show Sam later. This is really interesting," you pointed at the small panel without turning your gaze.

Well that trick of yours worked for the rest of the tanks. At least for some time it worked.

Dean slipped his hand back into yours, squeezing it, "Now it's time for the special thing I told you about." You didn't know if you were feeling offended or worried that Dean didn't notice the way you were behaving.

A wry smile tugged at your lips as you saw what he was referring to. It was a dome, a tunnel you had to walk through while the water surrounded you from three sides, and you shook your head, pulling him away from the entrance of the tunnel.

"Hey, you know what Dean, we haven't kissed once during our date. It feels wrong, let's go make out in the washrooms or something." He was taken aback by your sudden brashness but he licked his lips, a smirk etching on his face, "I did think of it, but I wanna make this as cheesy as possible. I wanna kiss you on the second part of the date."

All colour drained from your skin as your eyes widened, "What second part?"

And for the first time that day, Dean frowned which made you feel bad. "I thought that this was going good. I had just planned a picnic after this. Don't worry, if you're not having fun, we can directly go home. The exit is at the end of the tunnel."

You groaned in frustration. "No, no! I'm having fun. Trust me, I am enjoying this! Now let's go." You had survived without any mishap till now and you could do this. All you had to do was walk. Or so you thought.

The moment you stepped in, Dean hurried to the glass, you decidedly not looking anywhere else but the light at the end of the tunnel.

"Y/N look, a shark!" He grabbed your face moving your head towards it and your breath caught in your throat and not in a good way.

You trembled, pushing Dean away to sit down, your head cradled in your hands as you pulled your knees closer, trying to think about something else but even with your eyes closed, the blue glow given off in the silent environment still seeped in through your eyelids and all you could think of was the big fish on the other side of the glass.

You didn't know what happened next, all you could feel was the rapid pounding of your heart, your sweaty hands and not being able to breathe.

Dean kneeled next to you, dumbstruck at how the date went sideways, unable to know what was happening or do anything, fear creeping in as he froze. Normally he was quick at thinking on gun point, but seeing you on the floor like that puzzled him. “Sweetheart, what is it?Please say something.”

You tried to talk but you couldn't. You were shaking and it was impossible for you to form any sort of coherent words. “I-out.” You choked out .And that was all it took for Dean to get into action, putting one arm under your knees and another on your back as he picked you up in bridal style, making sure that your dress was positioned properly before running out of the exit towards the Impala. He could feel you shiver in his arms, cursing under his breath as he quickly unlocked the car and sat you on the back seat.

He held your hands, rubbing your palms, blowing on them as he whispered, "Hey, look at me. You're okay. We're out of there. We're never going in again. Breathe. I'm here with you." Over and over again in your ears.

You tried matching your breath with his as you eventually calmed down. You took a few minutes as your breath evened out before you opened your eyes, only to see the worry in those beautiful green ones again.

The ride back to the Bunker was short and silent. You didn't say anything, you didn't know what to say, feeling that it was your fault as you looked at Dean's scrunched up eyebrows through your peripheral vision.

What you didn't know was that Dean felt the exact same.

Let us know if you want to be tagged in the next part (Part 2)

Feedback is highly appreciated!

#supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfic #dean #dean winchester x you #deanxreader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean fanfiction

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miss-kittys-magical-library · 4 years ago

Text

Last Christmas

Word Count: 2372

Warnings: Mild violence and blood some angst or is it whomp?

A/N: This one was a fun write. I need to thank @robertsheehanownsmyass for being my sounding-board, always, and for helping me with ideas! Chapter 1: God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman can be found here

Chapter 2: The Fairytale of New York

It's not that Violet meant to kill Nathan. Yet here she was, at 4:30 in the morning holding him on her apartment floor while he bled to death. Her lips brushed his freezing forehead as she adjusted his head in her lap.

Not very long before the murder, Violet woke with a start when she heard a door slam. She was drunk still from the never-ending fishbowl drinks bestowed upon her after the win. Brain fuzzy and the room spun as Violet got to her feet and rummaged through the nightstand.

She desperately searched for a missing piece and her kitchen knife. Was someone meant to be with her? Her body screamed with booze and adrenaline as she held the knife aloft venturing into the hallway.

Violet made her way to the living area. A throb grew in her ears that deafened the silence of her apartment. The night flashed before her eyes as her head swam.

How the liquor filled her goblet with just a point of his long finger. Which he told her wasn’t necessary. Just thinking about it often worked. Like how he thought the scantily clad shot girl could use bigger tits, so they inflated a size or two. The dude bro that wolf whistled at Violet and slapped her ass as she walked passed, his tongue literally fell out.

“It's MY job to sexually harass women, NOT yours!” he yelled over the techno. Then casually tossed the body part in the horrified man’s direction. “What's a matter,” he pouted his lips in a kiss, “Sexy bitch got your tongue?!”

Violet furrowed her brows now as she rubbed her pulsing temples. Had they danced? Out in the middle of the crowd, his hands on her waist as she leaned back into him. Both gyrating rhythmically to some rave remix of an 80s song.

“You are the weirdest shaped guy I've ever met!” Violet had shouted. “Like a muscular-armed stick bug”

The strobe lights flashed across his face as he strained to grasp this as an insult or compliment. Instead he took a chance and kissed Violet's neck. She let him.

There was, Violet remembered now, flirting in the back of a cab. She told him drunkenly he had Irish eyes and a green smile.

“No,” she shook her head and laughed. “Green eyes and an Irish smile?”

He laughed but smashed his face into Violet’s. His kisses were wet, sloppy. Too eager and childlike for someone in their twenties. Violet pointed that out as she wedged a hand between his face and her.

“Christ who taught you how to kiss?!” her hand squeezed his cheeks so that his mouth formed an O shape.

“M’maffs teach-a in yee-ah four,” he muffled.

“Your fourth grade teacher French kissed you?!”

“No!” he giggled “Year four, it’s. I was fifteen.”

“That's sexual assault!” Violet cried.

“Aww only if you don't want it to happen.” He tried to push his mouth into her again, but she literally ducked out of his way. Defeated, he gave up and the rest of the ride was silent.

Back in the present. Out of nowhere from behind, “Hey do you have any blank-”

It was quick. Shocking how easy it was to stab Nathan through the heart. How fate helped Violet sink the knife so deeply into him that her breasts met his bare chest before either understood what was going on.

Nathan’s lower jaw hung open as he started to grunt in pain. A dark pool of blood poured around the weapon. Stark contrast to his pale olive skin. He swayed but steadied himself on Violet’s arms. His demeanor changing instantly from panic to acceptance and his body relaxed.

Violet’s hand still around the knife as a lump formed in her throat. She scrambled out of his grip, sobs and pleas of forgiveness wracked her body as she struggled to find her phone.

“I've got.. to.. to.. to.. Call 9-1-1. It was an accident. Nathan. I'll get someone here-”

“NO!” he bellowed. “No, it'll be ok. I'll..” he winced. “Come back.”

“From what?! I STABBED YOU!”

“Death, sweetheart.” His Irish accent makes the A R sound like the word “Air.” “I've been stabbed in the heart (h-air-t) by women before, but I've never been..” Nathan gesticulated to the knife in his chest.

“ARE YOU MAKING A FUCKING JOKE?! YOU'RE DYING! Oh my God,” Violet’s knees began to buckle but she caught herself on the counter.

“I'm immortal. Christ t’is fucking hurts.” Nathan struggled to breathe. “Was impaled twice. Beat t’death once. I'll be good.”

He continued, “C’mon Vi, give us a hand,” he instructed. His shaking hand unable to grip the hilt of the knife protruding from his chest. “I'll die quicker this way. be back half past or so”

It was so matter of fact. “Pride goeth before the fall” Violet thought.

A cheeky grin deepened the dimples in Nathan’s cheeks as Violet took the carving knife out of his chest. Blood had spilled unexpectedly down the corners of his lips while he slid down the wall. Violet tried her best to catch him. To soften the blow between man and hardwood, but Nathan folded like the scarecrow coming off his pole.

Even more present:

“Joyeux Noël, Violet. You've Committed your first involuntary manslaughter.” Warm tears poured down her cheeks onto Nathan’s face.

Her legs were sticky with his coppery blood, but she kept marveling when her world soon grew quiet without his smart mouth and witty retorts. There was only a faint gurgle of blood that filled his mouth and lungs. How beautiful Nathan would always be to her in this moment because immortality was for vampires and mythology.

She would never forgive him either. It took longer than Nathan insisted, heart still pumped dark crimson into her hand used as a piss-poor tourniquet. But the beating slowed to a stop as Violet absently combed her fingers through his thick hair to soothe her exhausted body into a fitful sleep.

This time it was the heady smell of eggs and sausage that roused Violet from her sleep.

There was humming and singing in a language she didn't know as someone rattled about in the cupboards.

One hand over her eyes, head felt like someone bashed it repeatedly with a drumstick, she came to life. Her mind grabbed at flashes of kisses and a knife and Nathan being dead. The hallway, but this was her couch?

Suddenly she sat straight up, “OH MY GOD!! OH MY GOD!” Violet's hands and bare thighs were caked in dry blood. She flew off the couch and went to Make it down the hall to the guestroom. But instead she slipped and fell in the coagulated mess on the hardwood floor

“Aw yep,” a harsh Irish lilt quipped from the kitchen. “I meant t’clean that up before ya woke, but I wasn't sure where the supplies were.”

Violet simply laid down on her floor, defeated. “I killed you,” she whispered.

Nathan appeared above her. His shaggy hair fell across his forehead and the goatee and mustache Violet swore he had shaved was back. He consciously fumbled to button his dress shirt that she was certain he wasn't wearing as he lay in her arms.

“You were in your underwear. You were bleeding to death last night in your underwear only,” she sat up grimacing at her blood caked hair.

“I cleaned up the best I could. Told ye it would be half five when I came to. Didn't wanna leave ye on the floor, so I carried ye t’the sofa. Sorta did a bit o’the whore’s bath in your sink.” Nathan mimed washing his body, “Not really comfortable with the whole showering in a strange bird’s gaff without permission.”

Violet stumbled to her feet with Nathan’s help. His reflex to catch her as she slid again in the mess was quick. Their chests pressed together again. His skin against hers as she clung to the seams of his shirt to balance herself. Violet's face flushed. From a hangover or how warm Nathan was. Alive.

“I ran you through with a carving knife. You died in my lap. You turned ice cold and had purple lips and I thought to myself how many times I asked you if you ever shut up.”

“Only when I'm dead,” Nathan absently stroked her hair. Large hand gently rubbed her back and took a chance at getting a squeeze of her ass.

Violet ignored what Nathan did and refused to look at him. Not in those ever changing eyes anyway. Instead she placed her hand flat on Nathan's smooth, if not slightly stained, chest. No gaping wound, heartbeat steady.

Violet's own heart pounded in her ears as the adrenaline from touching him raced through her veins. There was no denying that he was just as beautiful alive.

And no denying that Nathan eagerly tried to crash his mouth into hers, but Violet swerved. “Are those my underwear!?”

Nathan stepped back to pop his shirt up and push his own backside in her direction. “Mine were ruined,” he rubbed himself and bit his entire bottom lip. “Oi they're soft and make my ass look great.” He slapped it for good measure.

“I like you better dead"

Nathan sneered sarcastically and rolled his eyes. His lips moved with no sound coming out but baby babble. "See if I make YOU breakfast again!”

A hot shower and clean clothes later, Violet climbed onto one of the stools at the kitchen island. Her houseguest sat a plate of food and a mug of tea in front of her

“Found some peppermint. Mum says that helps with a hangover.” Dimpled grin before he turned around to finish cleaning up her kitchen.

“Oh,” Violet was taken aback by his thoughtfulness. “Thank you,” she meant it. “Hey! You’re not using magic.”

“Nooo. I'll use it sparingly until I have to give it back. Been right fucking fun while it’s lasted.”

“You’re cleaning my kitchen.”

“Yeah? If you tell us where some brushes and such are, I'll clean the floor next.”

Violet felt a pleasure seep into her bones as she sipped the hot tea. It was nice to have someone to look after her for once. She had time to really watch as Nathan scrubbed the pans he used. She took notice of him biting a cuticle or chewing skin off his lip as he carefully searched her drawers for a towel. He flitted about kind of like a hummingbird; never staying still long enough between tasks.

“Nathan you don't have to do any of this. I know it's just a layover until you're back in London. I The situation isn't exactly ideal. Now that I murdered you, isn't it fucking weird?” Violet questioned around a mouthful of food.

He faced Violet while drying the dishes. “Nah. Been killed loads of times. Impaled twice. Sewer pipe. Metal picket fence. Then had my head bashed in. Stabbed in the heart by a beautiful girl who is a bit dodgy about me kissing her is tops now!” A bright smile crept across his face.

“why are you cleaning then?”

Nathan scratched the back of his head in thought, “Well, so ye don't have t’remember I was ever here.”

Violet’s mouth hung open but she closed it quickly. “Who the fuck would ever want to forget you?” She started to laugh, “I watched your anger literally explode in hundreds of rabbits. I probably drank a hundred bucks of liquor for free. You took a guy’s tongue out for slapping my ass. And you're..”

Nathan leaned on the island top with his chin in one hand, “Immortal?” He wiggled his eyebrows seductively.

“An Irish prick,” Violet cocked her own eyebrow in return. Nathan pouted.

“I've gotta go to the casino. I know someone in the back of the house who found all of your shit. Please just stay here. Can you do that?” She got up to get a bucket and cleaning supplies from the closet.

“Do you know how many movies start with someone saying don't move?!” There was a gleam in his bright green eyes.

“Nathan, I mean it!” she commanded from the bedroom. “I have to go Christmas shopping too. Jesus it's Christmas eve.” She hobbled back into the living room trying to pull a shoe on.

“Fine. But if I find porn anywhere and have a wank out of boredom, that's on you lady!” He mimicked masturbating in her direction.

Violet’s face contorted in disgust as she threw on a leather jacket. “Grow up.”

“Tried that. She ran away with all the money, and I went to prison. When do I meet mum and dad?” shit-eating grin

“They're dead.”

Nathan’s face fell. For once he was momentarily speechless. “My step-dad’s a dog.”

Violet's hand was on her doorknob, but she paused. “Wait.. Like cheats on your mom dog?”

“More like turns into a naked Jack Russell at night with his massive cock out all over town.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“So much. T’anks for asking!” Nathan grabbed Violet by the wrist. He spun his finger in a circle ever so slightly. “Just a bit o’ Christmas magic before you go?”

Violet gasped as a sprig of mistletoe manifested itself above them. A bough of pine spread on either side of the doorway wrapped in tinsel. Little white lights started to twinkle from inside.

“Nathan, it’s beau-” but Violet was interrupted by his mouth covering hers again.

He was softer this time as his hands gripped her waist. His tongue gently slid into her mouth and Violet accepted it. Her body relaxed into him as their lips moved on instinct. But she found herself as quickly as she had gotten lost. She managed to wedge her hands between their bodies so she could push herself away.

“No. Nope. We can't do this. You're leaving the day after tomorrow, and I'm not a fucking Hallmark Christmas movie.”

Nathan brushed his nose against Violet's forehead, “I think it's too late for that.” But she turned abruptly and left him cold by the front door.

“Make yourself at home, okay?” Was all she shouted from the other side of the door.

#robert sheehan #nathan young #nathan x violet #lord of chaos #robert sheehan character fic

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jungcity · 5 years ago

Text

bane of the devil. | v

genre: vampire!jaehyun [angst | fluff | smut]

pairings: jaehyun x female reader

note: bane of the devil deals with themes of physical, mental, and sexual abuse as well as toxic relationships. which may be upsetting for some readers. you are advised not to continue if you feel uncomfortable to these types of plots.

words: 5.2k

“father,

he smelled like

blood,

wrath,

and battlefield

father,

he could rival

the sun

by how bright he burns

but

sunlight is poison

in his veins

sunlight is death in

his eyes

every crevice

every corner

was made to be feared.

then he smiled,

oh, father, he smiled

and whispered

“i am scared of myself, too.”

and that’s when i realized

monsters are lonely too.”

— bane of the devil // v

The blood from your body cascaded down the tiled floors to the shower drain as you harshly rubbed your skin. You did not want to cry. But as you recalled the encounter with the unknown vampire, you could not help but sob in the bathroom.

Dread fired up in your chest. You were so close to being bitten. So close. And even the comfort of Jaehyun’s rescue could not rub off the fear. More so, it had only amplified your agitation. You closed your eyes, skin wrinkling like folded papers by how tight you had shut them close. Tears once again fell down your cheeks, the warmness of it contrasting the cold waters you splashed on your face from the faucet.

Your mind drew the vision of Jaehyun holding the vampire’s heart with his bare hand. A sudden jolt sent your stomach recoiling, causing you to drop on your knees and hurl all your guts out in the toilet bowl. You regurgitated for minutes, saliva tasting like vomit after you were finished. With your knees slightly shaking, you stood up and rinsed your mouth over and over again.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror. As expected, the reflection pitifully stared at you; eyes red rimmed, lips blanched, hair as messy as a bird’s nest with little amounts of blood on your neck. The echo of image triggered the fear, and before you knew it, you were crying again.

With shaky breaths, you sauntered up to the shower and discarded all your bloody clothes on the floor. You have no idea about what to do and what you need. A cold shower to wake you up, or a hot one to erase all the trace of vampire blood on your skin? You started to soap your body, the blood coating the white color of it red. With little sobs and hiccups, you tried to lather your hair with shampoo, the smell barely reaching your nostrils.

You only know one thing, you only feel one thing; fear. And the world feels like a blur. You never want to feel this fear again.

Yes, you have no idea how your parents spent their last minutes together. Did they cry? Did they beg? But one thing is for sure, no matter how terrifying vampires could be, no matter how much fear they could inflict to a human being, you will vow not to crumble like this— ever again.

Was this real? Was everything real? It feels like a nightmare. The one where you could truly feel every single thing; fear, paranoia, thrill.

Madame Juana’s voice rang in your mind. All her proposals, all her plans; they appeared to make sense right now.

Despite that, could you truly kill? You stared down at your hands. How could these parts of your body, so delicate looking, could hurt someone? But Jaehyun had done it himself. He pulled out the vampire’s heart with his bare hands only. However, you are not like him. You are a mortal. You are like Lucas.

And by that, you could not be a vampire. But you could be a vampire hunter.

You roughly wiped your tears and breathed deeply. You let the thoughts fade in your mind, until all was blank and you could think clearly again. That’s it. There is no more thinking about it, there is no more succumbing to fear. Tomorrow, you would exactly be how you wanted yourself to be the first time you saw your parents’ dead bodies; fearless.

—

Jaehyun zipped his pants closed, forcing his mind to wander off at some place except here. Except here in Alena’s bed, with her body sprawled naked in her red mattress.

“Leaving so soon?” she purred, crawling like a cat towards Jaehyun.

It had always made him uncomfortable; the naked body of Alena. She was too white, there was not a trace of veins in her body. She almost appeared like a blank white paper, without anything written on it. But unlike all vampires in the world, her skin does not feel chalky. Jaehyun supposed it’s because of his blood running in her system.

Her arms found their way around Jaehyun’s torso, her soft breasts pressing in on his back as she tightened her hold. “Let’s do it again,” she whispered in his ear.

Months ago, Jaehyun would have been salivating like a mad dog by that statement only. He would have been jumping on her bed, discarding all his clothes, to have sex with her over and over again. But times are different. He wasn’t that lucid and naïve vampire any more.

Jaehyun stood up, not caring whether Alena would fall from the bed. “I’m going,” was his impassive words.

“My love, please?” Alena pleaded.

A sudden thought came crashing back in his mind. Lucas’ words. She’s the most powerful vampire right now. Why would you do that? He said. But why is the most powerful vampire in this town begging for Jaehyun’s manhood like it is her lifeline? Why is she sprawled naked on her own bed, touching herself while pleading for Jaehyun to stay?

Sensual moans echoed from Alena’s mouth as she inserted her middle finger in her womanhood. Jaehyun stared at her, dead-panned. Then he walked, propped his knee on the bed, and leaned closer to Alena’s frame. When he was finally looking down straight at her eyes, she sucked her middle finger, tasting herself.

“Fuck yourself,” Jaehyun spat as if she wasn’t already doing that. But he wanted her to feel that he was— not even the slightest bit— interested in all her plays anymore.

In the blink of an eye, Alena was behind Jaehyun. When he turned around to face her, her fist had already collided against Jaehyun’s jaw.

“You were nothing, Jaehyun. I’ve created you,” she said through gritted teeth.

Jaehyun recollected himself from the blow, standing on his feet as proudly as he could muster. “Who gives a fuck, really? You are just a psychopathic bitch—” Then another blow. This time, she hit his stomach. Jaehyun doubled over and crashed against Alena’s vanity.

She sauntered up to him, all naked, and crouched in front of Jaehyun.

“What were you before? A piece-of-shit of a man, who makes a living by riding a motorbike. You are pathetic, Jaehyun. Utterly, hopelessly, pathetic.” Then she spat vampire venom on his face. “Your mother did not even weep when you died.” She almost sing-songed the sentence, tasting every drip of poison laced with it. Jaehyun tried to stand up, but Alena stood up first, pressing her soles against Jaehyun’s cheek. He felt as if his skull would burst open by how much force Alena had drawn out.

“Oh, what about your father? Who had literally thrown a party when he found out that his bastard died in an accident!” Alena laughed so joyously.

Jaehyun gritted his teeth, his anger would burn down this mansion. It would. But the consumption of his blood by Alena had rendered him weak. This is all happening because he foolishly let Alena consume his blood again.

“I am all that you have, Jaehyun.” She pressed her soles further down Jaehyun’s cheek, his head burrowing on her lush carpet.

Baby steps. He heard your voice.

“No.” Jaehyun had bitten his tongue as he tried to let the word fly from his mouth. It was hard to speak in his situation, but he did anyway.

“No?!” Alena snarled before withdrawing her soles from Jaehyun’s face and grabbing his back collar. “No?!” she screamed at his face again. Then she slackened her hold and started to caress Jaehyun’s cheeks. “My love, I am all that you have, right? You are all that I have, too. Remember our promise? My love!” Then she kissed Jaehyun. His mouth didn’t move, but the woman continued her penetration. She grabbed Jaehyun’s hands and used it to grope her own breasts. “Touch me, my love. Fuck me. I am yours.”

Her eyes are frantic as she led Jaehyun’s hands towards her womanhood. “Please!” Her pupils are dilating, fangs elongating.

“No,” Jaehyun uttered.

Alena’s face dropped instantly. Her eyes clear, mouth in a thin line before speaking again. “Get out of my mansion.”

Jaehyun, for the longest time in his life, felt relieved and ready to dash away from the wretched place Alena called home.

“Do whatever you like, Jaehyun. Mingle with all the girls in the world. But you know, we both know, it’s you and me even if the world crumbles to dust.”

Jaehyun did not answer. But he knows, in the deepest parts of his rotten soul, he’s doing everything he could to change that.

Your mother did not even weep when you died. A poisonous smile had spread on his lips as he remembered. Of course, everything Alena had spat out on his face was true. Who would have cried for Jaehyun? He was nothing. A bastard of a business-man. A son of a prostitute. No, he had never insulted his mother’s work. It was her life, it was her body. She could do anything with it. But what Jaehyun looked down at was her ability to love. She’d provided him a roof, food, a chance to study— but all of it was responsibility. It was not out of love.

Jaehyun remembered the times when she would literally sell her own son to her friends for money. Luckily, Jaehyun was old enough to understand everything. So he ran away from home, from everything related to her parents. And started out his own wicked life of chasing death.

His father? Oh, his father was a son-of-a-bitch. There’s no explanation for that character. Jaehyun believes his father’s soul is more vile than that of his. But who could really tell, right?

Jaehyun could sprint away from this mansion as far as he could. But he preferred to walk out of the vicinity. Inside the many rooms of this mansion, there lays his own bedroom, and Alena’s torture room. For him.

He could still feel everything as if it was yesterday. Vampires could not feel pain. Shoot them and they would feel the bullet penetrating their flesh, but the searing pain it brings would feel nothing against their power and immortality. However, Alena had her own ways to hurt Jaehyun. The memories were foggy, but he could make out two clear tube inserted on both his wrists. His blood flowing into a large bucket, with Alena grabbing a glass full of his blood, drinking it like it was the finest of wines.

After those agonizing moments of Alena squeezing him out of blood, he would sleep. For hours. Days. Only waking up to please Alena again. And then the same thing would happen. It went in circles. At first, Jaehyun welcomed it with open arms. In Alena’s embrace, he felt like a king. Sex with her made him feel powerful.

Or so he thought.

As time goes by, with the same scenario happening again and again, Jaehyun felt like a toy. He felt weak. He wanted more. He wanted to be the king. A real one. But that won’t happen if Alena’s alive and using him like a favorite doll.

All the wretchedness he had gone through Alena’s hands were nightmares that visits him whenever he closed his eyes. Then he does not want to be king anymore.

He only wanted to be free.

Alena did not allow that to happen. It was ignominious. But Jaehyun could still remember the way he begged for Alena not to cage him.

She kept him in a dungeon, refusing to give him blood. Jaehyun had reached the point where he had experienced the ‘bleeds’. An incident where a vampire bleeds from his ears and nose by blood abstinence.

After that, Jaehyun did everything to please Alena. He did not dare escape again. But he made himself powerful. He struggled to be strong. Strong enough for Alena to want him like her life depended on his blood. He’s strived and achieved his goal. Now, he was free.

Alena could not kill him— could not harm him. Jaehyun’s blood was powerful in its own eccentricities. He did not know what is it, he could not understand it himself. But ever since he became a vampire, he never felt more human. Vinegar, garlic, rosaries, prayers, silvers— they could not affect him at all. Sunlight could singed him, but not scorch him to death, just enough to enfeeble him. But he remains vulnerable to fire, a stake at the heart, decapitation, or to sangue debolezza which translates to ‘blood weakness’. It is a rare type of vampire disease with an unknown origin, but it is still a way to kill vampires nonetheless.

And consuming Jaehyun’s blood gives Alena the same power. She won’t dispose someone as precious as him. It won’t kill her if she ever did, but Alena has been a woman born with an intense penchant for power. Jaehyun provides her that ascendancy.

Jaehyun only needs to stay alive until someone, until you, kills Alena. With the thought of your fierceness and determination of finding the vampire who killed your parents, Jaehyun took a lingering glance at the moon, before sprinting towards home and towards you.

—

“Hey, Johnny.”

You sat on the bed, phone pressed against your ear. You heard the rummaging of Johnny’s things before he answered.

“Hi, Y/N!” He greeted.

The optimism in his voice made you uncertain for a moment. You have decided to tell— lie— to Johnny about your plans regarding Madame Juana’s offers. This is what you have been waiting for all your life. A chance to know what truly happened to your parents and avenge their deaths. Johnny need not bother himself about it. You do not have to tell him. To keep him safe. To keep him sane. He would never believe you, anyways.

After minutes of being unforthcoming, you finally told him about your plan.

“Is it really needed? Like… would you really fail if you don’t join that trip?”

You sighed, trying to muster indifference. “Yes, Johnny. You know how it’s done. I don’t even know why it’s a three-month long trip! Gosh!” Just right after the words slid out of your mouth, you bit your lower lip as hard as you can. They were right when they said lies slides easily and more smoothly than truths.

“Three-month trip?! Is that really necessary?”

You heard the apprehension coating Johnny’s question. This won’t be easy for him. Not when he took the mother and father figure ever since your parents had died. But you also know that he would let you go at the end of the discussion. You just need to convince him that you will be fine.

“According to my prof, yes.” You cleared your throat, preparing yourself to tell yet another lie. “Oh, and I’ve already asked Haechan’s mom to sign my parent’s consent.”

Johnny sighed from the other line, “Alright, then. I still don’t understand why it’s a three-month long trip, but keep me updated, m’kay? I want to know everything. The hotel, the details—”

“Copy that, John. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Okay…” Johnny wavered, “Do you need any money?”

A certain sadness enveloped you. You are absolutely aware of your tightness when it comes to financial matters, and you won’t squeeze Johnny’s pockets for this ‘trip’. You would have to rely on your and your parents’ fund for assistance.

“No, John. I’m okay. Just… keep the money for yourself.” You tried to sound positive as possible. “When are you coming back, though?”

“I still don’t know. And I won’t tell you the dates. It’s a surprise!”

You laughed. A big part of you has been missing your big brother’s goofy side. It’s been months since you last saw him. “Just keep safe, Johnny. That is all I want.”

“You too, little sis. Take care of yourself.”

For hours, you’ve talked. The fear that has been nagging on you seemed to vanish as Johnny threw banters from the other line. You miss having him around. You miss the normalcy of life before seeing a bloodied Jaehyun in your doorstep.

Johnny had bid you good night, reminding you to take care and inform him about the details of your educational trip.

Three months is a long time. Your professors, for sure, won’t give you that much of a consideration even if you make an excuse letter. Nevertheless, there was no harm in trying. So you sat on your bed, your laptop’s screen blinding you.

“Ma’am and Sir…”

You started to type in your excuse letter, squinting your eyes as you skimmed the words for any loopholes and grammatical errors. You’ve decided to tell your professors the same thing you told Johnny. A trip. Family trip. Reunion. Or… maybe you could just tell them that you are currently arranging your documents that you would need to migrate to a different country. Migrating is a hectic process, it’s more believable than a reunion. No family would reunite for three months.

As the printer did its job, you waited with a sweaty forehead. Am I really doing this? You bit your lip as you stared at the letter. This is insane. But life requires a little bit of insanity. After folding the letter inside an envelope, you decided to call your friends. Another lie for another person.

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Mark asked as you told him about the three-month trip that you’d also used as an excuse to obtain Johnny’s approval. Of course, you didn’t tell him about the real reasons. But Mark is a kind and respectful man, he won’t barge in your business especially when you make it clear that you won’t entertain questions.

“It’s not. I just really need to unwind. You know. Find myself.” You forced a chuckle. Losing yourself would have been the better description for your trip. But, of course, you didn’t tell Mark about that.

“I think that’s… cool. Three months is a long time, and I’m gonna miss you. But, you should go for it. I do hope you find whatever you’re looking for in your trip, Y/N.”

“Mark, you’re the sweetest.”

Of course, after talking to the kindest person you’ve ever met, you need to talk to the brat-est person God allowed you to meet in your lifetime— Haechan.

“I don’t believe this is a trip to unwind,” he said. And you could literally see his dead-panned expression from the other line. “Tell me, you’re running away with that Jaehyun guy.”

“Haechan! You’re ridiculous!” You hissed, but forcing yourself not to laugh nonetheless. “I’m serious, though. It really is a trip to unwind and find myself.” No, it’s not.

“Whatever you say. Just… take care, you bimbo.”

“Do not call me bimbo!”

“Bimbo!” he shouted. You winced and pulled the phone away. Too late for that. Then his tone changed to that of a serious one. “Call me, call us, whenever you need someone to talk to. Take care. And please! Return! I know Jaehyun’s— oh wait— who would take care of Jaehyun, then?”

Haechan’s question caught you off guard. No, no, no. Think, Y/N. Think. Sweats literally formed in your forehead as you think about whatever reason to tell Haechan.

“He’s… well… his relatives had known about his current situation. And they… they called me! Told me they’d pick up Jaehyun, then they did! It’s heart-wrenching to see them reunite after all these years.” You fake a sob.

“Wow, that’s amazing. I’m glad he’s found a family that would take care of him.”

“Yeah…” you played with your pillow. Not being able to see two of your most precious friends sent a sudden jolt of sadness to wash through you. Haechan, Mark, and Johnny are your tether to the real life. Turning your back against them means completely enveloping the mysteries laid for you by a witch, a vampire hunter, and a vampire.

“Y/N, I’m gonna miss you,” Haechan declared.

“I’m gonna miss you, too.” You nodded and wiped the sides of your eyes. Then Haechan dropped the phone call after saying good bye.

You stood up, the full moon hanging and glaring at you from the heavens. So beautiful. So captivating. Yet so portentous. You pursed your lips and shook your head before departing your room to the kitchen.

The cold water jug bit on your palms. It’s one a.m. and Jaehyun was still nowhere to be found. Where has he gone to? Yet you aren’t sure if you are ready to see his face after all that has happened.

You checked your social medias and scrolled down your feed. To be a reminder that you are still you. Normal. Somehow. When a loud bang of the door startled you from your seat. Before you could stand up, Jaehyun’s frame greeted you in the kitchen.

You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. He wasn’t looking bedraggled. He looked alive, and well. Despite the blood that still adorns his skin and clothes.

“We need to go.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Pack your things and let’s go to Juana.” He started to pace, hands on his waists.

“I don’t understand. Where have you been?”

He drew in a halt and stared at you, “None of your business.”

You raised a brow. “Well? After you left me in the middle of the street, bloody and sca—” You shut your mouth close. No, you won’t admit that you were scared. Jaehyun raised his own brow, waiting for your next words. “Bloody and alone— I, at least, have the rights to know where were you.” Then you straightened your back and pretended to tower him.

“Trust me, you won’t like the answer.”

“Am I in danger?” You fisted your palms and waited for his answer. Jaehyun, for a second, didn’t know what to say. It was clear by the way he opened and closed his mouth.

“No. It’s me. He was coming for me.”

“Why?”

Jaehyun sighed deeply. “No more questions, Y/N. Let’s just go!” He hissed.

No more questions? How could he? As far as you could remember, he was the one who practically told Madame Juana to give you enough time to decide. And now he’s here, all jumpy, asking you to pack your things, giving you no chance to ask why.

“You will explain to me everything once I’ve finished packing.” You clenched your jaw, pointing your forefinger at his face. Jaehyun attempted to speak, but you have already made your way to your own room.

Two luggages were what you pulled from your bedroom to the living room. It contains your clothes and necessities. Jaehyun was sitting, freshly bathed, on the sofa. He eyes your luggages and then you.

“Seriously? That many?” He quipped.

You frowned and stared at your luggages. “Do you have the slightest idea how many womanly necessities I have to bring?”

“No, I don’t.” He shrugged.

You ignored his scrutinizing. He is a man, a vampire one at that. He won’t ever understand how it is to be a woman. “Then stop your scrutiny and focused on your— wait a minute. Why haven’t you packed your things yet?” You raised a brow while locking your luggages. After that, you roamed your eyes inside the house and sauntered up to the windows to check the locks.

“I don’t have any clothes other than what you’ve bought for me.”

Oh, yes. Jaehyun is a homeless guy without any relatives. The sudden thought made you inquisitive. Where is his parents? Are they still alive? But you shook your head, erasing your questions.

“Well, that’s a problem.” As you finished checking the locks of every possible way for a robber to enter your house, you have finally focused on Jaehyun.

He leaned on the sofa, eyeing you. “I don’t think so. Remember our deal?”

“Oh, please! You didn’t even want to join us—”

“But I did. I would.”

You bit your lips, calculating the cost if you ever decide to buy Jaehyun his own necessities. It would surely take up a big chunk off your money.

“We won’t be able to eat at the villa if I dare buy you everything you need.”

“That’s your problem, not mine. I don’t eat, Y/N.” He had the audacity to roll his eyes at you then.

Right. Vampires do not eat.

You straightened your back and leaned on the window frame, ignoring Jaehyun’s snarky comments. “Where have you been, Jaehyun?” Then you crossed your arms to tell him you would not back down unless he tells you what really happened.

“Alena,” he replied incisively.

You gulped. You weren’t expecting that name to roll off his mouth. “That’s unexpected.” Trying to sound as apathetic as possible, you focused your attention in checking the locks again. “I thought you’d burn the—” You took a deep breath, “— the vampire’s body.”

“I dumped him exactly where he came from.”

Your brows knotted instantly, reckoning his words. “Are you saying Alena sent him? For you?” This time, you had stopped pretending to check the window locks, and faced Jaehyun with inquisitiveness etched on your face.

“Partially. He sent him for me… and for you.”

You sat down yourself to the nearest sofa and tried to recollect your thoughts. Why would she do that? “For me? I don’t understand.”

“She knows I’m living here, Y/N. And she’s not happy about it.” Jaehyun pursed his lips. You were absolutely certain that he was hiding something from you.

“Oh, heavens. I— I don’t know what to say… I… Jaehyun, she’s your fiancée, right? Perhaps she got it all wrong. We’re not doing something disgraceful!” You waved your hands to the air to shake off your trepidation. Well, that’s not exactly true. On his first night in your house, he’d already kissed you.

The look Jaehyun gave you told you he was thinking about the kiss too. But he shrugged and brushed it off. “Yeah, we’re not doing something.”

“I think you should explain it to her…?”

Jaehyun snorted, “Y/N, didn’t you hear me earlier? I’m trying to severe our betrothal. I don’t give two fucks about what she thinks.”

“And why is that?”

He went silent for a moment, his eyes clear. As if remembering some horrible scene in his mind. “Do you really think I’d tell you everything? C’mon. We’re on our what? One-half step of being friends.”

“I just want to understand why would she send a vampire to harm us. Especially, me.” You pointed at yourself. “Well… perhaps she’s known about our plan.” Heavens. The thought was too terrifying for you to bear.

“No. She didn’t tell me anything about that.” Jaehyun stood up then, “So we better get moving before she sends her vampires again to kill us. Earlier was already a warning.”

When you attempted to speak, Jaehyun raised a finger to stop you. “Please, baby. No more questions.”

So you shut your mouth with a hope that you could do the same with your thudding heart.

On the way to Madame Juana’s mansion, you have separated the money for Jaehyun’s needs. In the end, you have decided to buy him his necessities. You supposed it won’t be that costly, considering his nature. Clothes are all he needs.

“You’ve decided the right thing, Y/N.”

Even in the stark of dawn, Madame Juana was ready to accept you in her home. She looked immaculate as always, her silk robes hugging her frame as she greeted you.

“I… hope so.” You smiled at her, heart beating loudly for what lays behind all your decisions. Jaehyun remained leaning on one of the pillar inside Madame Juana’s hall, observing you and the witch.

“To be honest, some part of me didn’t expect to see you at all. That’s why I’m so glad to see you, darling.” She caressed your cheek like how mothers do to their children. You fought the urge to lean on her hand, suddenly remembering your mother with a twinge of pain in your chest.

“Well, this is my only chance to know who killed my parents. I couldn’t simply let this slip.”

Jaehyun had convinced you not to tell Madame Juana about your encounter with the vampire earlier. He nagged and reminded you to be more careful especially to friendly faces. And now that you are walking through a path cloaked with darkness. Those were his exact words. You would’ve laughed by the way he delivered it, but he was so serious that you resulted in gulping down your chuckles instead.

Madame smiled. In that moment, you wanted to ask her if she could enchant Hubert already. It’s not like you would run away from her and bail on your deal. But an uncertainty made its way on you. You still have no idea about her true nature; her patience and her attitude. It would be careless to ask such favors. Especially to a witch.

“Excellent, darling.” Then she pulled her hand away, “I’ll get ready. Mr. Jones will—”

“I… still wanna talk to you about some things.” You took a quick glance at Jaehyun, who raised his brow at you, “Privately.” Then he frowned and walked away, fishing something in his pockets. You could only pray that he won’t pry with his sharp hearing.

“Go on, Y/N. What is it?”

You hesitated for a moment, before sighing deeply and focusing your eyes at Madame’s own. “Can you… I mean, I want to block Jaehyun from reading my mind.”

Madame’s brow shot up to her forehead, the side of her mouth twitching upwards. “Interesting favor, darling. But understandable. I know how insufferable it is for someone to infiltrate your mind without permission.” She held the sides of your forehead with both her hands, “This might hurt a little. Like a migraine.”

You shut your eyes closed and readied yourself for the pain. Enchantments rolled off her tongue. It sounded like Latin mixed with a language you haven’t heard before. A grumble of pain echoed from you as you felt the ache of the magic. It was exactly like what she told you; a migraine, but a sharp one.

“Done,” Madame stated.

You felt the absence of her fingers, resulting on you clutching a handful of your hair to prevent the pulsating pain. As you grip your hair with your hand, you lifted the other one to tell Madame that you still have one remaining thing to say.

“One more thing, Madame.”

“Now, now. What is it, darling? Are you going to ask me to block your heart from falling in love with the vampire?”

At her bold statement, your eyes widened, heart somersaulting inside your chest. “No!” You shouted, voice bouncing off the walls of her mansion.

A low chuckle resonated from the Madame’s throat. “Don’t be so upset and defensive, little dove. It’s written all over you—”

It’s dangerous to cut off a witch’s sentence, but you could not bear to hear the end of her statement. “I actually wanted to tell you that I want to become a vampire hunter.”

Madame’s grinning face changed to that of a surprised one. But she quickly regained herself, her grin spreading wider than the last time. “Then I guess my villa isn’t the right place for you. But the Academy.”

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#jung jaehyun au #jung jaehyun imagines #neowritingsnet #jung jaehyun smut #jaehyun au #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun smut #nct 127 au #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 smut #nct au #nct imagines #jaehyun nct au #jaehyun #jung yuno imagines

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deepslateemeraldore · 5 years ago

Text

Peach (one shot)

Reddie

Inspired by “Peach” by The Front Bottoms and that one textpost that said “when someone writes Reddie shotgunning they’re not the only ones getting high” or something like that

3.4k words

E / fluff / drug and alcohol use (weed)

It’s the end of everyone’s first semester of college, and the Loser’s congregate at Mike’s to celebrate.

It was common for Eddie Kaspbrak to fall asleep on his friends shoulders during long car rides. And with his head on someone’s lap, legs sprawled out on a loser’s couch. And, on rare occasions, cuddled up to Richie in his bed after a long night. He’d wake up to tangled limbs and Richie’s warm breath tickling the back of his neck, an arm draped lazily around Eddie’s mid section. And if he were to be completely honest, Eddie was the happiest to feel the warmth radiating off of his best friend upon waking up.

On this particular night, the two boys had been at the Hanlon residence, partying with their friends to celebrate the end of their collective first semester of college (they had all decided to get general ed out of the way at Bangor CC, not ready to move away from their hometown just yet). Beverly and Bill supplied alcohol, Stan and Mike prepared dinner and snacks, and Ben, Richie, and Eddie himself were in charge of baking and dressing a cake for the celebration (Ben and Richie were great at eating baked goods, but needed Eddie’s guidance and direction for creating something edible). The night pulled on like any other of their parties, full of shrill shrieks and laughter, the sounds only amplifying with the added effects of rum and beer.

By ten PM, Ben had fallen asleep at the kitchen table, moments after the cake had been cut and served with seconds and thirds. Bill, Stan and Mike helped Ben to Mike’s room to sleep off the IPA’s Bill supplied (he’d only had four, but he was always a lightweight). Eddie poked at the crumbs of remaining cake on his and Richie’s shared plate.

“I tried to tell him to take it easy tonight,” Bev began to speak, eyes following Stan keeping Ben balanced out of the kitchen.

“But the boy just wants to party hard.” She smiled, turning her attention to Eddie.

“The cake was amazing, by the way. I’ve never had a peach pound cake,” Eddie blushed, dropping his fork on the plate. “I could eat that for the rest of my life.”

“Hey, I made the cake, too!” Richie chimed in, feigning hurt that Bev ignored his help in the production. Eddie gave him a poke in the ribs with his elbow, Bev chuckling at the interaction.

“Thank you, Bev. I can give you the recipe if you’d like. I made a few tweaks, but I can write those down, too.” Eddie smiled at Bev, pushing his chair back to stand up in search of a pen and paper. Richie followed suit behind him, the chairs legs scraping on the linoleum.

“Speaking of peaches,” Richie pointed to Eddie’s ass, smirking, earning a cheap snort from Bev. “This plum’s gonna have a smoke.” He announced, walking out of the kitchen and into the living room.

“If anyone cares to join their dear friend, I’ll be in the back.” Mike reappeared with Bill hot on his heels. Bev stood up to follow the boys, nudging Eddie as she passed behind him as a way of saying “join us”. He finished scribbling ingredients down and grabbed a bottle of water before rejoining with his friends outside.

The aroma of shitty weed made Eddie scrunch up his nose upon first contact, his lungs feeling a little heavy, too. He watch Bev hand Bill a lighter as he made his way over to stand next to Richie. He smiled up at his best friend, earning a smile and a wink back in return. Eddie was grateful that the backyard was dark and wouldn’t expose his flushed face and ears. He heard the click of the lighter and watched Bill take a long hit from the joint in between his lips. Bill smiled as he exhaled, passing it to Mike. Then Mike to Bev, then Stan came outside to join them and took two hits before passing it to Richie. Feeling like time was going by oddly fast, Eddie took a step back, watching as Richie held the blunt between his long, nimble fingers, taking the longest drag yet. However, as soon as Richie pulled it away from his lips, Eddie felt everything go in slow motion.

The cloud of smoke coming out from Richie’s nose, only to be sucked back in through pursed lips shouldn’t have made him appear more attractive to Eddie, but somehow it did. Butterflies wrestled through Eddie’s stomach and up to his chest, swarming around his heart before settling in his throat.

“Is today the day, Ed’s?” Richie asked, holding the damn thing out to Eddie. He shook his head and pushed it back towards Richie.

“Sorry, I don’t want your cooties.” Richie snorted at Eddie’s retort, passing it back to Bev. She took one last hit, motioning to Bill to come over to her. He obliged, and Eddie tried to look away as he parted his lips, close enougb to kiss Bev, as she blew the smoke into his mouth. The interaction made Eddie feel anxious but curious, having seen them do this a million times but still coming as a shock every time.

The night had winded down from there. Bill fell asleep on Mike’s couch as soon as his high kicked in, which was Mike’s cue to call it a night. Stan stayed up a while longer, chatting with Bev and Eddie (and ignoring Richie, who kept trying to get Stan to moon Ben and Mike, who were both asleep in Mike’s room, for a keepsake photo opportunity), before falling asleep himself on the couch next to Bill.

“Ready to make like a banana and split, my dear friend?” Richie asked Eddie as soon as Bev had joined Stan and Bill to make a trio of couch sleepers. Eddie had started to yawn, and nodded to Richie who was shaking Bill awake to let him know they were heading out. Bill planted a kiss on Richie’s cheek before erupting infinity quite giggles. He waved as they left the front door of the Hanlon residence.

Eddie wasn’t even close to being tipsy, a stark contrast to Richie who was crossfaded and giggly, and took on the role of navigator for their walk home. Eddie walked behind Richie, watching from the sidewalk as his friend tried and failed to walk a straight line in the gutter. The back of Richie’s head was bobbing up and down with his steps, curls bouncing with his body. It amazed Eddie that he hadn’t fallen down yet. He smiled as Richie tried to walk the line again, feeling grounded and warm that they got to share these moments together.

The walk wasn’t particularly long or far, but Eddie had lead them on the scenic route, trying to milk the amount of time he could have with Richie before they’d pass out from exhaustion. He was back to feeling like time was passing too quickly, although this time was due to being deep in thought about how much he cared about Richie, how much he loved him in every sense of the word.

The butterflies in his chest were gone, now replaced with angry wasps making a nest in his heart. He thought about college, how he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to try and attend a university because community college was pretty decent. But the loudest thought (pun intended) bubbling in his brain was that maybe he did want to get high tonight, and maybe he did want Richie’s cooties. But he also didn’t want to say this to Richie and make him think that Eddie only felt this way because of their friendship, that his feelings were a buffer to hold him over until he met someone who deserved him. Before he could expand the idea mentally, Richie spoke up, breaking Eddie’s train of thought.

“Hey, Ed’s,” Richie pulled Eddie’s sleeve, turning to face the smaller boy.

“Are you scared of vampires?” Richie asked, his tone so serious that Eddie couldn’t help but laugh. He kept walking, but Richie, anchored in the asphalt, held him back.

“I’m serious, are you?” He asked again, Eddie’s expression dropping from content to cross.

“No, Rich. I’m not scared of vampires. Why are you even thinking of th- OUCH!” Eddie cried out, confused because Richie had just lunged at him, sinking his teeth into Eddie’s neck. “What the fuck, Richie?!” Eddie shoved Richie’s hold on his arm off, staring at him in a jaded disbelief.

“You said you weren’t scared of vampires, and I may be a lil drunk, but I wanned to see if you were scared of me ’cause I’m a vampire now.” Richie’s words were slightly slurred, and his logic was flawed, but Eddie could see something in Richie’s eyes, an emotion that he couldn’t make out. They seemed to say “don’t be mad at me”, with a hint of “I need you to give me attention”, which in turn kick started the anxious feeling inside Eddie once again.

“Oh shit, you’re bleeding, oh shit,” Richie launched back at his friend, gently pressing two fingers to the small pool of blood above Eddie’s collarbone.

“WHAT?!?” Eddie panicked, pushing Richie away again, feeling his neck for himself to discover the tiniest wet spot. There couldn’t have been more than a pinhead of blood actually coming from the world's smallest cut. Relieved that he wasn’t bleeding bleeding, he picked up his pace, walking with a little more urgency, Richie following.

“I’m sorry, Ed’s. I’m really sorry, I was just trying to be funny,” Richie apologized from behind Eddie. Normally, when apologizing for “being funny”, Richie was not truly sorry. But his tone this time around sounded sincere. If Eddie could compare it to anything, it would be the tone a guilty dog would use if he could apologize to his owners for knocking over the fish tank if said dog could talk. It made his stomach tighten up.

“Rich, it’s okay. It’s a tiny cut, and I’m not really bleeding at all.” Eddie tried to sound soft, to show that he wasn’t angry, but his words came out more sad than anything. “I’m not mad at you, I think I’m just kind of… in shock, I guess, that you did that.” He sounded even more uncertain. He reached out to touch Richie’s shoulder as an act of forgiveness.

“Once I get it cleaned up I’ll be fine. I promise.” His smile matched his eyes, and Richie lit up a bit. Eddie beamed, earning a giggle from his friend, and in that moment Richie looked absolutely angelic to him. The street light illuminated the taller boys face, highlighting every imperfection that Eddie secretly loved looking at, and bringing a sparkle to Richie’s eyes. Eddie looked away when he felt blood rush to his cheeks, guiding them up the block silently.

Originally, Richie had planned on staying at Mike’s with the rest of the guys, but changed his mind after hearing Eddie mention that his mother didn’t want him to sleep over if there were going to be girls at the party. Somehow, he had convinced Eddie to come and stay at his house because there wouldn’t be girls and Sonia somehow agreed. It wasn’t until the two had made it to Richie’s house that it came up.

“I just realized, you could’ve lied all along and said that you were gonna stay at my place from the beginning. She’d be none the wiser.” Richie whispered as the two of them made their way up to his room. His parents were in bed and the lights were off. Eddie followed him up the stairs, not speaking until they were in his room.

“I guess.” Came Eddie’s response, quiet and soft.

“Here, let me get an alcohol wipe or something to clean your neck with.” Richie rushed to get the words out. Not waiting for a response from Eddie, he turned on his heel, back out the door and into the bathroom. Eddie had left an emergency first aid kit under the sink years ago, insisting that it was for Richie’s own good, that he’d be prepared if he fell off his bike.

Richie flipped the light switch on, glancing at himself in the mirror above the sink, taking in his appearance. Bags under his eyes, shaggy unkempt hair with a touch of fizz. He looked haggard from partying. He shook his head and opened the cabinet to get the first aid kit concluding that it didn’t matter if he looked like shit because Eddie was there to sleep, like he had time and time again in the past. This was no different. He flipped the light off before rounding the door and practically sprinting back to his room.

Eddie was standing in the same spot, still as a statue. Richie cleared his throat before closing the bedroom door behind him. Eddie jumped, startled, turning to face Richie.

“Rich, it’s fine. It doesn’t hurt, it stopped bleeding forever ago.” Eddie reached for the first aid kid despite his words. Richie opened it himself, grabbing an alcohol wipe and packet of hydrocortisone, holding them between his teeth as he set the small box down on his bedside table, out of the way.

“C’mon. I got it, it’s fine.” Eddie nodded at his friend, stepping closer to him, hoping that Richie wouldn’t notice his rapid heartbeat and breathing pattern.

Richie took the packages out from his teeth. Opening the wipe first, he lightly tugged Eddie closer to him, giving it a quick rub (a wince from Eddie at how cold the cloth felt on his skin) before doing the same with the cortisone. He swallowed hard, as did Eddie as he pulled his hand away from his neck, dropping the packets into a trashcan opposite his nightstand.

“All better.” Richie’s voice cracked. “Doctor Tozier completes another successful surgery!” His voice doesn’t recover, shame tugging at his tongue. Eddie cracked a toothless smile, more present in his eyes than lips.

“Thank you.” Eddie took a step back, cold air rushing around Richie as he moved. His voice was soft and silky and continued to ring in Richie’s ears as he walked to the far end of the room.

It made Richie’s stomach do weird things, his voice. The voice Eddie used when it was just the two of them wasn’t something new, he’d been using it forever. And it had tied Richie’s stomach in knots just as long.

Richie changed into pajamas after taking everything out of his pants pockets, back to Eddie as he did the same. They’d sit in Richie’s bed and talk about random shit, classes and stupid people they’ve met. It was routine. It all was, down to them laying down next to each other, back to back, waiting for alcohol tainted sleep to take over. He’d fall asleep after Eddie, feeling safe only when soft snores and deep breaths were the only sounds he could hear. He prides himself on this routine, keeping him safe from doing anything regrettable. They’d been in this situation time and time before, and every morning they’d wake up the same. Richie was on the brink of sleep when he felt Eddie roll over to face him. This isn’t routine.

“Rich, are you still awake?” Eddie’s voice was like silk, a little deeper than usual. Richie’s eyes shot open, while the rest of his body was frozen.

“I… I think I did want tonight to be the night.” Eddie whispered, lack of context making Richie shoot up.

“W-what?!” Was all he could muster out, blood rushing from his hands and legs, going tingly.

“The night I got high for the first time.” Eddie was even quieter, and Richie slid back down onto his pillows in relief (it was secretly disappointment). Ah.

“Oh. Okay.” Richie responded, a pregnant pause causing his nerves to act up again. He tried to level out his breathing as sly as possible.

“Richie,” Eddie spoke, breaking the silence. He shifted his position, leaning on his left arm and looking into Richie’s eyes. “Will you get me high?” The question sent shivers down Richie’s spine, and he couldn’t sit up fast enough (whether it be fear or excitement he couldn’t tell).

“How do you want to do this?” Richie croaked out, voice rough with sleep he hadn’t gotten. He pulled the shared blanket over his lap, bunching it up just in case his hormones betrayed him. There was another pause as Eddie thought it over.

“Do you want a bowl? A rip from the bong? A baby joint?” Richie offered what he had to Eddie, waiting for him to make a decision.

“Can you do what Bev did to Bill that one time?” Eddie asked meekly, his eyes traveling to a loose thread on the blanket. Richie blinked. And blinked again.

“You… you wanna shotgun?” He asked, not quite meek but not quite hopeful. Eddie kept his gaze down, nodding.

“Yeah, I guess. Bev said it’s not as bad.” Shyly, Eddie looked up at Richie, cheeks flushed and eyes dewy. Richie modded a few times to himself.

“Yeah. Okay. Yeah.” Richie leaned over to his nightstand, one foot on the floor for balance, opening the drawer and pulling out his rolling tray, papers, flower, and grinder neatly sitting on top of it. He could feel Eddie watch his every move, nose scrunching up at the smell as soon as Richie opened the dimebag of pot. Mindlessly, he put a little in the grinder, getting a paper when he was ready, and rolled (in Eddie’s mind) a perfect joint. He put everything back in its place on the tray before putting it back in the drawer, pulling out a lighter and old dirty ashtray. He looked at Eddie again, catching his eyes to ask “are you sure?”. Eddie nodded, and watched as Richie lit up with shaky hands taking the first hit for himself.

Eddie watched patiently as Richie inhaled deeply, shifting himself to lean against the backboard before exhaling, smoke drifting out his nose up into the room. He held the joint over the ashtray on his nightstand, ashing it. Eddie watched Richie’s Adam's Apple bob and he pulled the joint back to his lips, before inhaling whispering:

“Come here.”

Eddie scooted closer to Richie, heart racing not only because Eddie Kaspbrak was about do a drug (besides that placebo shit his mother had forced on him since his youth), but because he was going to have his lips mere millimeters away from Richie Tozier’s.

Richie took a long drag, holding the joint in between the fingers of his left hand, his right reaching to cup Eddie’s cheek. He rubbed Eddie’s bottom lip with his thumb and leaned in, blowing the smoke between Eddie’s partially opened lips. If I lean any closer, I’d be kissing him, Richie thought.

And as if Eddie was some sort of fucking mind reader, he leaned into Richie’s lips, kissing him. It felt natural, like he was meant to. He wrapped one arm around Richie’s neck, the other feeling around and grabbing hold in his hair. He could feel Richie smile into the kiss as he leaned over to put the joint out in the ashtray, pulling Eddie down with him, and back up. Richie pulled away for a moment smirking at Eddie.

“You’re not supposed to blow it back into my mouth, dumbass.” Richie joked, hooking his left arm around Eddie’s waist. He smiled, Eddie smiled back, and before they could get back to their previous position, Eddie laughed.

“Well maybe if you gave me instructions in the first place,” he started to poke, no malice behind his words. Richie laughed, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek, eyes heavy.

“Honey, I’m a little stoned, I’m not trying to start an argument with you. Shut up and kiss me.”

The next morning, Eddie woke up tangled in Richie's limbs, as he had numerous times before, but this was intentional. He felt lips on the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry that you’re a little…uh… y'know.” Richie struggled to say bruised, but Eddie already knew, and he didn’t care. He turned over to face him, planting a lazy kiss on his best friends lips to shut him up.

Richie rested his forehead against Eddie’s, reaching for a hand to intertwine his fingers with. Eddie opened his mouth to speak.

“As long as it’s you, I couldn’t be happier.”

#fanfic #fic #ficlet #oneshot #reddie #it (2017)#it (2019)#it #it (am)#it (film)#richie tozier #eddie kasprak #losers club #ship #richie x eddie #reddiecore #richie tozier x eddie kaspbrak

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punkandsnacks · 4 years ago

Text

Between Wolves & Doves, Chapter Two; Outsider.

Author: @punk-in-docs & @adamsnackdriver

Also on AO3-

Trigger Warnings: Implied violence, sexual thoughts and some emotional abuse.

Synopsis: Vampire!Kylo x OC love story. Inspired by BBC’s Dracula. Also inspired by Austen’s Pride & Prejudice.

He’s been stalking this earth long since civilizations can possibly fathom. Before records even began. He sneers at the fact that this pitiful young world has only just begun to see his reign of it.

He’s dined with moguls, emperors, princes. He’s consorted with bloodthirsty ruthless Queens in their courts, and whispered into the ears of powerful King’s, whose names still echo through millennia.

In his myriad of centuries gifted to his immortal self he’s been many many things. He’s been a lowly pauper. A crusading knight. An assassin. A sell sword. A soldier. A wanderer. A simpering suitor and a voracious unyielding lover. Aimlessly lost in time- besieging this earth. Ripping it apart and drinking what’s left.

He was made in the hinterland between snow and dirt and pine trees. Crusted with ash and blood and gouged from battle. Born anew. Sired from the hell-mouth of war. He was made in 789 AD.

He’ll come undone, one bitter winter night, in England, in 1816.

~ ~ 🥀 ~ ~

Night falls dark and still over the landscape brushed with snow. Westwell’s gardens seemed crushed under the icy weight.

It seemed the heavy blanketing of it muffled and blotted out all sound. But it’s a peaceful intrusion.

The huge square windows of Westwell Manor are flaked with frost and each square of glass glimmers gold with the tall candle holder placed in each one. A stick of fire and gold warding off that indigo night that shrouded heavy and deep in the sky above. Trying to spill into the window.

Iris is sat in her small bedroom. A tomb or a cell, really, was how it felt to her some days. Wall to wall draped in pretty Morris flowered wallpaper of white sprawling flowers with navy and blue birds and country vines.

Her double bed with twisting pillars of dark mahogany twine up to the wheat thick canopy that is draped over it. The mattress is layered in a fluffy champagne coloured eiderdown and white embroidered scalloped-lace pillows. The floors are dark walnut wood, and they creak wildly. Groaning. Cold and heat seeps easily through the cracks between them in winter. Chilling her toes. And in summer the warmth of the creaking cracking house bleeds upwards.

The walls of her bedroom are sparse but some have photo frames of embroidery or pressed flowers she’s collected over the years held neatly in small wooden frames. She has a small stool by her bed with the tapered candle lit on a brass holder. Apricot flame coming off the long drip of the Chantilly candle. Casting pools of orange up the warm-ivory-bone of the walls. A jug of dried wildflowers sat on that little stool spices up the air. Dried lavender and clary sage, wild shasta daisies and a green-pink hydrangea bulb. Her little stack of modestly worn books lay piled neatly on the floor next to her bed.

Iris is sat at her dresser, pulled near the window. With the roaring fireplace just to her left. Above the mantel hung a gilded mirror on the chain. Candlesticks alight, set on the dresser and on the alcove of the sash window. Two candles flank the oval of the mirror she’s sat looking into.

Mother is behind her, dressed and ready in her purple muslin gown and her white fichu. Stabbing pins into her daughters hair. Every time she sticks in another pin, Iris winces. Blinks through the stinging pain of it. She was attempting a more fashionable colonial coiffure. Easier to produce.

“Your hair is much too thick to curl properly.” Her mother addresses her idly. Snappily. Tugging back a section back behind her ear.

“Posy and Flora have much finer hair.” She offers.

As ever. Iris doesn’t know what to say to that. Should she offer an apology? Should she agree? Disagree? She fails to know how to be.

So she remains silent and watches her mother’s reflection in the looking glass as she almost crossly dresses her hair.

Caroline Ashton was maturely beautiful woman. With skin as clear as fine porcelain - like smooth cream. Even if sporting wrinkles by her mouth and eyes belying her later age. She had hair exactly the same as Iris’s. Except her mother’s was such an opulent shade of cinnamon-black. Stroked with streaks of silver like lightning bolts had struck through. Her eyes were clear silver. Two discs of shining moonstone. Very mysterious eyes, Iris had always thought.

Lately those eyes seemed permanently hardened over like rainstorms. Clouded over with disappointment at her eldest.

Always wishing she could do more to see more of the love that used to linger there. Nowadays it seemed like Caroline could only look at her and see the blemishes. Only see the wrongs.

The frown lines seemed deeper. The cutting remarks appeared more frequent. She was always telling her to sit up straighter, correcting her posture. Smoothing out the wrinkles in her dresses. Always picking. Forever finding something lacking.

Iris likes to think she was doing it out of an abundance of love. But it’s becoming clearer and clearer to her that it’s really about the opposite. It’s not about her wanting to provide for Posy or Flora or Father.

It’s purely selfish. It’s all about her ensuring they don’t lose any respect in the ever omnipotent eyes of society.

If her mother thought less about their image; perhaps Iris could love her more.

As it is. Coldness and distance lay weighty between them. Thicker and frostier than the snow outside. The ground between their geniality and affection lay strewn and twined with thick vines of barbed thorns. No way to tread such hallowed ground without drawing blood.

“Posy and Flora have had their hair in bows all day.” She points out. She shuts her eyes and grits her teeth as another pin slams into her skull. Yanking her hair right at the roots.

“And they’ve taken all week to fret over choosing their dresses.” Iris adds.

She looks up to see those steel swords of mama’s eyes cutting into her in the reflection. Mouth was a grim line.

“You should know by know what’s expected of you, Iris. And not take the matter so lightheartedly.” She warns.

“They can take balls seriously, as real chances of finding matrimony. Why can’t you?” She asks with a cruel tone.

“Mama. Flora and Posy haven’t taken anything seriously since they day they were born.” Iris insults plainly. Speaking truth.

“You know they only delight in attending ball’s and assemblies because they wish to make greater spectacles of themselves in front of soldiers from the militia, and get flirted with, by any creature sporting breeches.” She adds.

“Atleast they try.” Caroline cuts in.

“And I do not?” Iris asks. Flatly exasperated. She huffs.

“You only danced with three men at last months assembly. It’s simply not good enough. You must try harder. Your sisters may have prettiness and confidence in unholy abundance. And they apply it. You wither away and that will never gain you a husband. For heavens sake- What upstanding man wants to marry the silent wallflower?” She declares gruffly.

She fiddles with her new satin gloves sloped in her lap. Her dress was ivory silk printed with frail gold flowers and embroidered scalloping on the hem.

There’s Van Dyke pointed lacing around her neckline and the same embroidered trim on the three-quarter sleeves. White helped ‘lift’ her ash eyes apparantly. It was fresh out it’s box from the dressmakers, Madame Larousse, on Pembleton high street. Indian printed silk and Italian lace. The most expensive fabric in stock.

Their maid, Julia, had earlier laced her stays so tightly over her cotton chemise, Iris worried she broke several ribs. Her nails stung into the wood of her bed post.

Mother was stood getting her gown ready on the other side of the room. Watching her eldest have the breath thumped right out of her lungs. “Tighter.” She ordered. Iris clutched a hand at her stomach.

“A man could go a long way without seeing a bust like yours Iris. We must take advantage of it.” She comments wryly. Julia tugs tighter on the strings. Iris’s jaw clenched all the more.

By the time she’s finished her waist is tucked right in and her breasts clasped high on her chest, almost so high they hit her chin and there’s scant space between her cleavage and her areole tumbling free, this gown is so low cut.

She tugs it up higher when mother isn’t looking. Spectacles of her fertility not quite on such prominent display now.

She fancied this silk of it was so fine and thin - and clung so tight to her body, one breath of wind would closely reveal her wide hips. And doubtless her chemise and garters could be glimpsed through the thin sheer sheen of it.

And here she was now, submitting to her mothers inspection and brutal torture. Laced up in her silken gown. With her best stockings, and slippers. Earlobes dropping pearls, and a head full of silver decorative pins and an ivory comb.

Speaking of which, the latter is just being wrestled into the weave of her coiffured braided bun, at the back.

“There...” Her mother says. Fussing with a few strays. Tucking them in where they should belong. As she picks at Iris’s mud hued hair. She idly asks her questions.

“Will you be dancing with Armitage tonight?” She asks. Insinuated, more likely.

Iris averts her eyes and pats the back of her hair. Checking it in the glass.

“Will he be in attendance?” She asks offhand. As if she had no clue.

“Of course he will. Brendol knows the Hearst’s very intimately.” Her mother shrilled.

“You will dance the first minuet with him and I’ll hear no more fuss about the matter.” She orders. Cold eyes finding her daughters in the mirror.

Armitage Hux was the son of a strict local army colonel. Tall, dashing, hair as brilliant as copper and eyes as cool as teal sea-foam in contrast. He was lean and willowy in stature. Always bedecked finely in his uniform. Buttons gleaming, blushing blood of a red coat brushed and pressed to within an inch of it’s life.

He’s not a bad man - he doesn’t drink or laugh at her. Or try and fondle her in a darkened corner.

He just strikes Iris as being incredibly vain and undeniably haughty. He thinks all the world should be owed to him.

He only wanted to talk medals and glory and rank. How he was a model soldier. And so admired the bravery of gunfire and glory in battle. He’d never even seen battle - his father bought him a conscription and shook hands and pulled favours to get him a high rank in the military. Sergeant Hux, he now was.

He didn’t seem to be able to equate soldiers and uniforms and weapons with actual war or combat. But liked to boast about how deadly he was. His sharp reflexes. His skill as a swordsman and marksman. Iris felt like stuffing cotton in her ears - or sticking her eyes with pins all night - anything but listen to Armitage spew out his toy soldier reveries.

“He is a very agreeable man. You would do well to land him, Iris. He would make a most affable husband and a good match.”

“I barely know him, Mama.” Iris pointed out.

“You don’t need to know him. That is no hindrance to a proposal of marriage.” She says crossly. “You need not know your husband. You merely have to do your wifely duties by him.” She reminds.

My duty of keeping my mouth shut and my legs and womb wide open, Iris thinks.

“I thought I heard he was courting Mary Simpson?” Iris pipes up. Uncurling two tendrils of delicate hair from in front of her ears.

“She has barely a thousand pounds a year. Brendol would never stand for him marrying such a girl.” Caroline declares mightily. Speaking in derision of the girl who was beneath them in every sense.

“Besides. Lord Hearst says there will apparently be a very rich gentleman from the continent in attendance tonight too. A Lord Ren, from Bavaria. It would do well to seek him out.”

“Every matronly mama worth her salt will be throwing their daughters in his path. I do hope he doesn’t trip on the sheer number of them crushed underfoot.” Iris says lightly. Pulling on her gloves.

“And if he is a Lord, why has he deigned in all his lofty power to grace us with his presence, and to come to a small county rather than go to vastly over stocked marriage mart in London?” Iris questions.

“Don’t be so blockish, Iris. Maybe he has business here to attend. Mrs Wilson told me this morning that he’s bought Hellford Park out in its entirety. Now that takes an extraordinary fortune.” She corrects.

Iris looks directly at her mother. She spies the gleam of want in her eyes. The hunger that such a sum she could snatch up in her hands.

“Lord’s marry Heiresses to sugar mills who are poised for ten thousand pounds, or widowed old Duchesses with vast crumbling estates. Why would he in his lofty state and means, lower himself to wed a girl of simple country gentry, with a barely three thousand pound dowry?” Iris sarks.

Mama gives her a pointed look. Like a ream of needles pressing in her skin.

“Then you will make a even better spectacle in front of him. And show him how elegant and courteous country girls can be and see if you can’t win him over that way.” She insists direly. As if she were plotting a serious military offensive.

“If he is a Lord, he will be titled. Titled means landed money and dignity.” Her hair is yanked yet again. “He could well be the answer to all our prayers.”

Your prayers, Iris points out rudely inside her head.

“He could be a hideous old letch.” Iris says, rightly.

Mother stabs one final pin into her head. As if in revenge. “Looks aren’t everything- Money. Station, and respect? That is forever enduring.”

So are things like love, intimacy, friendship and happiness. Those things endure too. But Iris can’t imagine her acerbic mother has ever felt happy or loved a day in her life; she likes to think her marriage, when it comes, shall be different.

She ends the conversation on that dazzling note. Iris’s scalp is on sore-fire by now.

The door opposite them creaks as it’s burst open. Impending footsteps barrelling down the creaking floorboards of the corridor shortly before signalled their arrival. Flora and Posy.

Fully gowned and gloved and perfumed to high heaven, with their hair pulled in elaborate coiffures on their heads. They had perfect curls. Perfect flounces and ruffles on their dresses. Cheeks a healthy pink. Eyes wild bright with excitement.

They look like blooming silk roses in a summer garden. Iris feels more and more like a singed daisy in her own gown.

Flora was dressed in a cobalt muslin, with a roller print of dandelions laid in pinstripes down the fabric. Posy was in a demure blush pink cotton. With lace trim tumbling over the neckline. And Iris sees she wins the honour of wearing the rose silk slippers. Flora is in some ivory ones that have seen more mends and fixes than is earthly possible. For silk slippers didn’t come cheap.

Both her sisters have much lighter colouring; they both still have the chowder grey Ashton eyes.

Flora’s hair however, is darkly mousy brown. Golden like toffee leaves that come off the trees in autumn. Posy is far more chestnut red. Blazing bonfires and russet red embers. Overall more enchanting than that of Iris twigs and sticky-mud hued locks.

They are a barrage of noise and silliness as they barge into Iris’s room. Flora flops onto the end of the well made bed and Posy nosily inspects herself in the looking glass over the fireplace. Preening. Voices overlapping.

“Mama! Did I tell you what Fleur told me earlier today?” Posy insists. Flora speaks louder over her, in order to be heard.

“Mama....Have you seen my pink silk shawl for I’m sure I left it in the drawing room.”

“I haven’t seen your shawl, Flora. You should take better care. And what did Fleur say, my dear?” Caroline asks in a soft voice.

Whilst fixing strayed hairs at Iris’s nape. Pulling and pinching. She had no softness reserved in store for Iris. She rather wants to roll her eyes at that.

“There will be a gentleman of certain lordly magnificence at the ball tonight.” Posy sing-songs. Aiming her teasing words at Iris. Who gives her a cutting look at her bubbly behaviour. Steel daggers made of her grey eyes.

“He’s said to be most handsome, sable haired, and devilishly tall. And he’s single. And Lord Hearst says he’s a recluse who barely leaves his castle, so we’re very honoured he’s coming and he has eighty-thousand a year.” She awards with great enthusiasm. Flora giggles.

“Maybe you should set your cap at him, Iris.” Flora jabs teasingly. “We could all be vastly improved by such a match you know. I could finally stop wearing these hideous thin old slippers.”

Iris wished to point out that she wasn’t being induced into matrimony merely to vastly improve the quality and state of her siblings footwear.

And quite wondered if he sister knew all that she’d have to undertake in making such a match - all she’d have to give up to be some man’s wife. All she’d have to do-

“She won’t. For she’s already got a suitor whose madly in love with her.” Posy insists.

“Hux is not in love with me, Posy. Don’t be ridiculous.” Iris says. For starters she wasn’t his red uniform or his army commission. Those were the things he was resolutely enamoured with.

Standing from the dresser as she speaks, and going to where her new slippers were laid out by the maid on the bed. Flora eyes the silk things with jealous disdain. Iris fixes her satin gloves up over her elbows. Disappearing under her sleeves. Mother is too busy fussing with Posy’s neckline - tugging it up to cover more of her second youngest’s chest. She protested so at the action.

Iris took the opportunity to slide a small pearl hair comb into Flora’s hand. Her favourite one. The one with coral flowers and paste amber gems on it.

Iris flickers a look over the mother and a silent understanding passes between the sisters. ‘Put it in, in the coach in the dark. So she doesn’t see.’

Flora smiles awfully wide up at her sister. Grateful that she shared out her pretty things. Flora was the youngest - the youngest daughter deserved nice trinkets too.

“If you’re all ready we’d best be off soon. The roads are icy. It will take an age. I won’t have us be late.” Mama orders out to all her girls.

She turns her head to Iris “Fetch your things and the velvet cloak. And for heavens sake don’t be long. We don’t have all night.” She frets.

Marching out the room after rearranging some of Posy’s curls. Barking at Flora as she passed to fix the wrinkle in her gloves. The door grated and whines as she shuts it, lock rattling in the frame.

Iris savours the silence - the crackling of the fire. The owl hooting off in the tree tops outside her window. She lets it soothe her. Let’s out the deepest sigh as they’re now left alone.

She crosses to her wooden wardrobe cabinet by the door, and opens the door to search for her blue velvet cloak. She throws it around her shoulders and ties it up. Posy hands her sister her cream silk reticule.

“She just wants you to marry well.” Posy says with some attempt at comforting.

Iris nods, glumly stroking her sisters hand in thanks. Looking into her earnest young face. Still so full of innocence and hope.

Her heart shaped little face so full of impish naivety.

“She might do not to make me feel exclusively like a breeding mare to be sold to the highest bidder for marriage at every conceivable turn.” Iris says wryly.

Angrily shoving a meagre few possessions into her reticule from her dresser. She looks down at her empty dance card that mother would see absolutely filled with names by the end of the night.

She wipes away an angry tear from the corner of her eye with a handkerchief that Flora gives her. Her anger crowded and crackled the room. These two didn’t deserve her ire, after all.

She sighs yet again. Letting the churning anger eating at her bleed out. Frustration filtering away. She plasters on a smile. Posy steps forwards to her exasperated sister.

“Can I borrow your diamond droplet earrings? They’d go very well with my dress...” She asks coyly. With her hands behind her back.

Iris rolls her eyes. Maybe they did deserve just a little bit of ire after all-

“You are both enormous pests.” She says. Guiding them out her room.

“Come on. Lest we hold mother up and I don’t much fancy our chances then.”

She corrals her pests of sisters downstairs. Makes sure they too are cloaked and ready. They have their gloves and she does uncurl Posy’s palm as they’re heading out the door, dropping the diamond and earrings into them. They sparkle in the moonlight.

“Lose them and mother will have your head.” She whispers to her in caution as they alight the warmth of the house into the cold sting of the night air.

Snow crushed under their slippers as they make for the coach. Slipping to step up inside the cold wooden enclave of it. Rubbing their cold hands together to create some heat.

It was just the Ashton ladies in attendance tonight. Father cared little for balls. Something mother sniped at him for regularly. Ernest Ashton would far rather stay home of a night with his ledgers and his books and his brandy than subject himself to the silly gossip and frivolity of idiotic society people present at balls.

Her father was a tall, quiet man. Sturdy and aged as an old oak. Strong and strapping figure even in his later years. He quietly took interest in the world where her mothers inclination was to devour it.

He had an open broad face. With tame blue eyes and thick greying hair. He was a studious man. Often kept to his study or the gardens. He enjoyed his ornithology and his Entomology books. He collected butterflies. All pinned out in cases in his study. Lining the walls.

It was a place she found infinite comfort in. Wandering into her fathers study. His entomology collection like dots of silken colour in their cases. Old leather books and volumes and manuscripts. Edifying proud in their papery silence. The old wood of his desk worn by years and years. The smell of the study. Of old leather and pipe tobacco. And peppermints from the little jar he kept on his desk.

He didn’t press Iris in the same way her mother always prevails to do. But then she sees the frayed gems and worn and mended holes in his clothes. The faded material in his waistcoat. How he hasn’t bought himself new shoes in two years.

That’s how she can put up with every snipe and every cross word that spits out her mothers mouth.

Iris sometimes quite wondered how her parents ever stood each other for any length of time to bear any children. They were entirely separate people whose interests did not align. They agreed on very little. And settled for that.

It’s so cold in the coach they can see their breath as they bump and shift along the icy roads. Trees make terrible dark shapes in the near distance, beyond the frosted glass of the coach door window. Iris sits, peering out. Watching the full bowl of the moon slither white off the silver and black landscape. Off the snowy fields and perched on the roofs of the hamlet of houses they pass by.

The carriage crawls slow up the winding drive of the Hearst’s three acre estate. Horses hooves hitting the hard paved path. Clopping in the night air. Skipping over the frost. They’re but mere minutes from exiting the coach, when mother decides to speak up and issue a few last desperate words of strict orders upon her eldest;

“Take every opportunity Iris. I won’t have it said in the gossip sheets tomorrow that you didn’t even try.” Caroline insists. Fussing with her own thick muslin cloak draped over her lap.

Iris looked at her mother then. Across the dark carriage as she tuts at the specks of lint sullying Flora’s cloak where she’s sat next to her. Picking it away.

She strongly suspected Caroline Ashton could have the whole world in her palm or on a string; and even then she’d find fault in it. Pluck displeasing bits of it out like loose threads.

She has that irate frown darkening her features. Cloudy set in her eyes. Posy’s little gloved hand reached across and held her sisters tight. Squeezing it in comfort sat there in the dark. Iris turns and looks to see Posy’s heart shaped face beaming up at her.

“You should let us introduce you to Captain Clifford’s friends Iris. They really are the most splendid fun. I’ve heard many of them say they quite fancy you, you know.” Posy grins. Whispering hushed to her sister to keep her spirits buoyant.

Iris strokes her hand and she can’t help smiling. More at her always sunny hopes. How bright her outlook on life was. She saw ball’s for the fun they were meant to be.

A dance, a party, a celebration.

Posy wasn’t yet tarnished by the knowledge that her hopes for future happiness depended on her behaving well and taking things seriously. It stopped being fun and became a chore. Iris lost her starry eyed wonder about ball’s years ago.

She hoped she could help Posy keep her gleaming eyed wonder and fun for just that bit longer. She would suffer every second of misery to keep it that way if she must.

She squeezes her hand back. “Thankyou. That’s very sweet. But I fear I shall be otherwise engaged in dances.” She excuses.

Besides, most of the young Militia men she met were very wet behind the ears. And all madly enamoured with exhausting dances and infatuated with every beautiful young lady in attendance. Declaring they fell head over heels with every girl they so much as walk past. She finds their overeagerness and exuberance a little trying.

Before long, they draw up the grand old stone columns abutting the front of the huge house.

An immense hulking beast of a thing. Lit with autumn-blaze torches in the night. The coach lurches to a creaking uneven stop. Jolting. And a helpful gold liveried footman in a powdered wig steps to and opens the door to help the ladies out.

Caroline doesn’t even glance at the man. Looks right through him. Flora flutters a flirty smile. Posy and Iris offer a polite snippet of thanks.

The Ashton ladies make their way up the torch lit steps and into the greatly heaving bustling foyer of the Hearst’s grand house.

Renford Manor was one of the finest houses in the county. The gardens were splendid. There was a maze and a famed marble garden gazebo.

A great split imperial staircase opens into the large cool foyer. All ivory marble. Hues of Eggshell and ice. Imposing, echoing and cold. Footsteps rattle like claps up to the ceiling. Distant notes of the small orchestra float through the air like zipping flapping insects.

Everything glimmers. The chandeliers that drip with gold and crystal. The old pearl and sharp onyx pointed tiles on the floor look like they’ve been scrubbed raw. They gleam almost too brightly.

They hand over their cloaks to more footmen to be put away. Letting their ball gown splendour come forth. Iris is almost crushed by the amount of people there are in attendance here tonight. Lady Hearst was known to stuff her parties to the seams. The whole county, and all of the two neighbouring ones, had most likely been invited.

Mama encourages them all up the staircase. Idly smiling greetings in passing to her matrons of her acquaintance. Iris skims one hand along the smooth cold of the marble banister. Holding her skirts up as her slippered feet hit each step. Steps firm and steady.

They come to one of the big main ballrooms. Looking through the scope of many double doors, leading onto another room and the next and the next furniture pushed aside. There was such a crush of so many ladies and numerous gentlemen packed in. Coats of all colours on the men. The spectrum of silks and cotton dresses so vast, it quite made her head spin.

Flora excitedly giggles and slips away. A flurry of laughter erupts and she joins hands with a little gaggle of her more intimate friends.

Iris raises a brow at her behaviour, not surprised to see that she caught a glimpse of a fair few red coated members of the militia in that particular direction. Mother huffs and gruffly tells Flora, through gritted teeth, not to linger too long.

Iris and Posy linger by mother as they chat to an elderly companion. Mrs Bishop. An ever worrying woman, Who ventured the world was going to end if there was slightly too much rain. She was practically apoplectic about the snow. Iris shares a look of pain with Posy. Who excuses herself with a bob of a curtesy to go find Flora.

“Pest.” Iris smiles at her as she slips away from conversing will dull matrons about the impending end of civilisation and the earth as they knew it. Anymore and Iris will be forced to rush for a vinaigrette of smelling salts to revive the poor dear when she swoons.

Iris stands with her hands folded demurely in front of her. Her eyes wandering over the party in full swing behind her.

The crush of noise, music and heat and bodies. Candies flicker doomed shapes copper and black up the light walls. The tall windows are guarded with heavy emerald draperies. Cascading waterfalls of apple green. Spilling and tumbling like grassy hills.

The windows glimmer like yellow square gemstones from the candles in their stands dotted everywhere. The dark floorboards glow with it too. Patches of orange inbetween the shadows.

The ballrooms, of which there were three, all adjoined by French pocket doors, are kept fairly dark. Lit only by the honey slither of candles reaching apricot slithers of light at every corner. People chatter and laugh to the din of a faint violin chorus of Mozart.

Laughter, Baritone gruff and the sparkling light of ladies chuckling delight flutters up to the ceiling. The room seems to burst at the seams with it all. Like a room full of butterflies. The heat, the noise, the voices and music. It was almost too much. Everything is palpable and it stings and rips at her eyes and ears.

They eventually depart from the hysterical Mrs Bishop. Leaving her fanning herself on a settee. Trying not to succumb to a fit of the vapours.

They make their way through the ballroom. Chatting and conversing and being mangled in the almost too heaving crowds. She loses count of the amount of times her toes get stepped on. Or elbows sharply prodded into the soft of her back as people pass.

Eventually; much to her mother’s delight, Iris is propositioned by a young gentleman from the militia, into a dance. There seemed to be no sight of Hux yet. Much to Mama’s chagrin.

He’s very polite and puppyish, delivers her safely back to her mothers side when the polka dance is through. Kisses her hand, declares her daughter a fine dancer, then is off onto the next partner.

They are lingering on the far side of the dance floor, just idly watching. In full view of the doors and the adjacent ballroom. Through the two sets of double doors either side of a great roaring stone fireplace. It’s light casting copper over every dancer.

“We won’t waste our time on him.” Mother harrumphed when he leaves. Looking with disdain as they watched him ask Primrose Charleston to dance the next.

“Mama. It was merely a dance.” Iris points out with a futile smile. “Don’t tell me you were picking out wedding attire and embroidered initial pillowcases.” Iris mocks.

That earns her a sharp look. She smiles in forbearance right back at her mother.

Her cheeks now pinkened and her eyes bright from the exercise. She likes dancing. When her partner isn’t a clumsy one, or reeks of port or body odour, or wine, or has wandering letching hands. It’s actually rather enjoyable.

“We should be setting our sights rather more higher than some penniless officer.” She insists. Watching the couples twirl and sway in front of them.

“Heaven forfend I dance with a man sheerly for the joy of it.” Iris concludes.

Caroline tuts in exasperation. Mumbles under her breath. “You do so vex me greatly sometimes, Iris. Even worse than your sisters.” She grumps.

Deep down inside, Iris is a little proud of that accomplishment.

A flurry of footsteps and squeaking squeals and suddenly Flora and Posy burst into view where Iris and her mother are stood.

Their voices are high pitched and they’re panting with excitement. Flora slings her hands into Iris’s and twirls her around with elation. Iris stumbles in the circle Flora leads her in. Posy is stood by Caroline grinning up a storm.

“Mama, Iris. He’s here! He’s here and he’s coming this way!” Posy giggles. Iris and her mother remain perplexed.

“Who is, my dear?” Caroline seeks. Frowning a little.

“He is surely the most handsome man I ever seen. And so tall. Did you see him Flora? That chest...” Posy flatters.

“Taller than any man I’ve ever met. And so well built. Such stature.” Flora says back.

“And he has dark eyes, Did you notice?” Posy asks.

“Of course I noticed! Very dark eyes. They are positively enchanting.”

“Bewitching.” Posy giggles.

“And his shoulders in his coat. So large.”

“For goodness sake, lower your voice-“ Iris chides at the both of them, glancing around the ballroom. Trying to decipher who they were so flustered and flapping about.

Her eyes don’t make it past the door-

The room seems to have slowed. The dancers are distracted. People around the fringes of the ballroom chatter louder. Deafening din rising. Gossip flourishing.

For Lord Hearst is at the entrance of one of the double doors, conversing with someone, and that someone walking by his side, is one of the broadest and most strapping men Iris has ever seen in her whole life.

He wasn’t just a man.

He was entirely too much, man.

“That’s Lord Ren. The handsomely rich one all the way from Bavaria.” Flora hisses to them all. “I’ve never seen a gentleman more strongly built, or beautiful.” She giggles loudly.

“I beg of you, lower your voice.” Iris chides. Pearl earrings jitter as she moves her head. Ash eyes governed by lintels of her brows creased up in a light frown.

Everyone’s eyes in this small stale society, is fixed solid upon the sight of this newcomer. Hungrily devouring this unfamiliar brooding man.

Obsidian jacket. Snowy shirt. Scarlet cravat like a bloodied noose around his neck, with a seers eye of a winking diamond pin studded in the knot. He radiates charm and magnificence. And masculine appeal.

“He’s in mourning to be wearing such dark colours.” Mother presumes. “How unusual for a man.”

“Don’t fret, Mama. Lady Hearst assures me he’s most certainly single. Now, Iris might have her chance at him after all...” Posy cackles.

Iris rams an elbow into the bony cradle of her sisters petite hip.

“Do try and endeavour to behave.” She chides to Posy. Whispering harshly.

This mysterious Lord is unfashionably attired in all black. Perhaps he is in a state of mourning? Ink black breeches cling tight to his strong thighs and wide wide hips and shining boots come to his knees - the wrong sort of footwear for a ball but he doesn’t appear to notice. Or even care.

He had an air about him that couldn’t be ignored. The dark clothes. Sable hair. It was long too. Far too long by societal standards. It curled at his neck. Swept in tumbling waves back from his face.

He’s scanning the room like he hates everything and everyone in it. A soured scowl on his face. The softness of his full lips are pursed and there’s a predatory quality to the way his eyes flicker around the crowds. He seems above it all. Distant. Untouchable. He was a Lord - he held himself superior as one as if a different species.

“Fleur told me he’s quite the scandalous man....” Flora begins.

“I heard he was married. Once before, but she turned mad and killed several servants. So he locked her in the dungeons and she’s still here raking her fingers to the bone at the stone walls to get out.”

Iris wants to roll her eyes. Now it’s Posy’s turn for interjection;

“And I heard that his castle is haunted and full of ghosts. And he seduces young noble women and then sacrifices and feeds them to the devil. Maybe he’s prowling for next victim?” She gasps frenziedly.

“You two need to stay clear away from anymore novels.” Iris scoffs.

She lets her eyes slip back over this Lord’s frightening exterior. She focuses on the dark pits that were his eyes. They seemed oddly familiar. As if she’s glimpsed them before. In a fanciful daydream, maybe- or maybe it was a dreadful nightmare.

They’re too far away to make out their true colour. But it must be a truly dark for the way they eat up all the light and glitter like rough cut gemstones lost to shadow.

His arms folded behind his back pulls his coat right across his chest. Exposes the musculature of him: he is big and beastly. There was no denying; his figure is redoubtably masculine. Intimidating and strong- meaty arms, no tapering away at his waist. He was entirely built of great slabs of muscles.

A warriors figure through and through.

Iris thought that such a body frame belonged in a previous age. A more ravening one. A cutthroat one. That stature was suited to a gigantic rampaging viking or a crusading knight in steel armour.

Quite why she thought so she can’t fathom. That big shape of his seemed unsuited to the setting of a dainty English ballroom. It seemed more natural for him to be on a battlefield slicked up and splattered in the blood of his enemy’s.

She watches as he boredly sizes up the room before him. An arcing sweep of his eyes and he’s done with it. Thrown aside all interest. Devouring all pitiful excuses for life. As if he’s looking or searching for something...

Then he looks right at her-

His eyes spear directly into her. See’s her. Meets her grey gaze and keeps it. Steals it away beyond her reckoning.

One side of his lip curls up. His eyes churn to look nearly honey gold in the light. Trick of the mind. All in her head. It was surely just the candles malforming the shade-

But it seemed more than him just seeing her. It was as if he could gaze right through her. Pierce her skin. Puncturing her very soul - she’s sure.

Her whole body feels his looking at her. She thrashes and aches.

If she has one. Some flimsy scrap of quivering human spirit in her, it is quaking and trembling now, and very much intoxicated by this man.

Her cheeks flush and she feels that betraying annoying heat slither down her neck and flourish at her breast. She swallows and blinks and tears her eyes away. She looks at her shoes cause she’s suddenly got a spinning head and her mouth is woolly.

That look and those savage eyes had set a flame blazing right down to her bones. There’s something she feels deep down that almost seems strange. Uncertain yet resolute. A tug on her stomach. An unknown yearning.

She realises quickly that this was the same pair of eyes that stole her breath this very afternoon. The gentleman from the imposing black carriage. Twice now she’s locked eyes with him and stared.

He must think her either a raving simpleton or a gawping lunatic.

“Iris. I do believe he’s staring at you.” Posy hisses with a wide impressed smile.

“Oh he is! He’s definitely staring.” Flora squeals. Tugging and shaking her sisters hand.

“Iris. Stand straight. Stop stooping. Chin up for heavens sake- look decent.“ Mother shrills through a gritted smile. Smiling demurely in the intended direction of Lord Ren. Preening herself like a flustered hen.

Iris dares another look up. Clasping her hands together delicately in front of her. At the front of her skirts. Him and Lord Hearst are mere feet away now.

“He’s coming this way! Mama! He’s coming over...” Posy grins. Flora laughs with her.

By now, Iris’s heart resembles a mad creature clawing at its cage, desperate to be free. Thumping and thudding her neck. Quivering nervous breaths leave her lips. Heartbeat hammering and pulsing in her ears.

He’s looking at Posy or Flora, she thinks. He must be. They always draw men like magnets. He’s not looking at me- he’s not. Really. He’s not-

They are closer now. Lord Hearst and Lord Ren are mere metres away. The entire room seems to be holding its breath. Another dance starts up and she’s glad for that distraction.

Her cheeks remained flushed and she raises her eyes when the air shifts around them. She can scent the brandy and violet water coming off Lord Hearst. There is his stout waistcoat and his perfumed wig. Lord Ren appears unscented. But a fusion of aromas simply pour off his vast body.

Sandalwood oil. Probably used on that thick rakish mane of his. There’s something else too, something earthy darkly rich, that mingles with the musky new wool of his coat. Peppermint or spices. She can’t tell. It’s damnably distracting.

“Praise the lord in heaven. We are saved.” Her mother mumbles gladly under her breath. Smile wide and gentle. Artificial and superficial to hide her truer nature.

Lord Hearst and Lord Ren are right before them now. Right in front of them. “Mrs Ashton.” Lord Hearst begins in greeting. Iris watches her Mama curtesy politely to the old lord.

“Might I have the pleasure of introducing you to Lord Ren. An old acquaintance of mine...”

Iris looks from the doddery old form of the red faced Lord Hearst, up and up up, into the face of the dark stranger. The top of her head would barely come to brush at his collarbones. His eyes are still fixed on her face. A shock jolts through her like she’s been burned.

“Lord Ren, this is Mrs Caroline Ashton. And her daughters. Miss Posy Ashton. And Miss Flora Ashton...” Lord Hearst introduces. Flora and Posy bob demure little curtseys at him. Bowing their heads and smiling prettily like fools.

He barely glances toward them. His eyes were fixed on Iris.

“And this is her eldest daughter, Miss Iris Ashton.” Lord Hearst beckons to her. Stood back behind her two sisters, and almost guarded by her mother.

She curtseys. Chin to her chest and she bows her neck in a manner she hopes comes across as graceful.

Lord Ren smiles. It’s terrifying in its power and beauty.

It moves the corners of his lips. And he comes in a step closer. Advancing.

Posy and Flora flatten back a little. When one hand comes around from his back, Iris could see he had thick leather gloves on. As if entranced she reached out where his hand beckoned to hold hers.

She slipped her satin gloved hand into his big offered dark palm. It sits right in the middle of the wide thing. So dainty in comparison.

He brings her silken hand up. Bows down and lays a kind kiss to the back of it. His eyes hadn’t left her since he entered the room - they didn’t start shying away now.

This is a man who is not shy. Not any bit of him.

He draws her hand down, very slightly. Freeing his lips.

“Enchanting to meet you, Miss Ashton.” He says.

Iris never knew a voice could be so deep. His voice sunk right to the core of her. Right through flesh and bone. Sinking deep. She’d expected a Bavarian accent. Or a continental lilt. But his accent is precise, crystal-cut English.

She blinks. Remembering she had a verbose vocabulary to make use of.

“It’s an honour to make your acquaintance, Lord Ren.” She gasps out with some hint of strength in her voice. When she lets her hand slips from his, her body feels strange. Her whole arm is left tingling.

She finds herself sighing as she pulls her hand back. He straightens his back with ease. She knows her mothers eyes are looking sharply at her so she remembers her politesse.

She feels like the whole world is watching them converse.

“Are you, enjoying... your time in England?” She seeks. “I understand you are recently arrived.”

“Very much.” He looks amused. “I haven’t been on these shores in- quite an age.” He says. She can’t help but feel there is something cryptic to his meaning.

“Do you mean to stay long, in Hampshire, your lordship?” Flora asks. Batting her long lashes up at him so much she could fan out a chandelier of candles if she’s not careful.

His eyes calmly flick across to the smallest Ashton sister. But linger back on Iris.

“Not long. But after tonight I think I’ve found sufficient reason to extend my stay.” His smile twitches smoothly once again.

“Are you enjoying Hellford Park, your lordship? Surely it is the finest house in the county, is it not?” Posy enquires.

Another flicker of those charcoal eyes to the other little Ashton. Really, there were too deuced many of them, Kylo thinks.

“It is an immaculate house. The snowy woods are very pleasant this time of year.” He agrees.

“Of course. The climates in Bavaria are surely similar. I imagine there is much snow on your own estate, your lordship?” Iris asks.

He seems pleased with her interjection. As if she were the only soul whose voice he wished to hear.

When he looked at her, it was like they were the only two people in this room. The only two that mattered. It’s just them, in the candlelight, cast by flame. As if no pairs of eyes are watching - when in reality there are hundreds looking in.

“Indeed. The summers are short, and the winters are long and frigid. I am somewhat familiar with the clime of snow. It falls more gently here than in Bavaria.” His eyes glare warmly across at her. Increasing her blush.

Caroline steps in with a saccharine smile that showed far too much teeth. A leer it could rightly be called.

“You must come and dine with us at Westwell, Lord Ren. We would be honoured to receive you. We can promise you an elegant dinner service, and cards. Why we dine with six and twenty great and fine families around the county. We would be very much favoured with your visit. I wager you won’t get finer, prettier companions or better conversation elsewhere...” Mother boasts.

He smiles right at Iris and it spears into her hot chest like an iron poker stoked too long in the fire. Red hot.

“Indeed. I Thankyou greatly for the invitation. Madam.” Then his eyes grow blacker. “You have very fine daughters. God has blessed you three times over.”

Flora giggles a beaming smile. Posy bats her lashes and grins. Iris fiddles with her hands and examines the floorboards, reddening at his charm.

“I often think so, myself.” Mother preens.

“Of course all my girls are immensely beautiful. But, it is my Iris who is revered around these parts as a local beauty.” She lies.

“Mama.” Iris blushes crimson. Averting her eyes.

“A rumour well circulated indeed.” Kylo’s looking at her. And to her amazement. She bravely looks back.

“And she deserves every such compliment I can bestow.” Kylo adds.

“You are too kind, Lord Ren.” Iris smiles slightly at him. It makes his chest pound harder. Watching her bosom heave at the neckline of her dress.

His mouth waters. That same scent from this afternoon hits him square in the jaw like a rounded fist. He all but moans at the erotic pleasure of it. Of her sweet scent drifting up his nose. Stoking at his eager hunger.

He will tear something apart tonight, rip it limb from limb, and glut himself on that sweet penny-metal flush of blood spilling down his parched throat. And as he does- as he feasts and drinks and crimson drips from his maw, he will think of this moment; of her aroused scent tangled in his nose. Stirring his own lust to boiling point.

He bids the Misses and Mrs Ashton’s a goodnight.

Lord Hearst had more introductions for him to make. More simpering sickening people to meet. All the same. Savagely polite and viciously boring. Their superficial kindness and flattery turns his stomach.

A bevy of swans the lot of them. Preening and pathetic. He could barely hide his disgust at the stench of rotten perfume that beat off each one of their hot pulsing throats. All the vapid girls that desperate Mother’s shoved in his chest to make introductions.

It was like the sheep throwing their own sweet little lambs out into the slobbering wolves.

If this were a less guarded age he might have already slipped away under guise of a romantic tryst in the garden, to drink a few of them dry.

Posy and Flora squeak and shake Iris’s arm after he passes. He is led around the ballroom, that great vast man. Introduced to all the good and the great. They gabble and squawk at their sister about how she’ll be the next Lady of Hellford Park.

She shushes them and sees it makes Lord Ren lock eyes with her from over where he towered loftily across the ballroom crowds.

Her heart starts beating wild again. A demure smile and she takes her eyes away elsewhere. And that heartbeat calls out to him like the pound of a war drum. A bell summoning him to worship.

Oh yes. He thinks. She is the one.

And she’ll do splendidly.

~ ~ 🥀 ~ ~

#kylo ren #kylo ren x oc #vampire!kylo #vampire au #very wolves and doves #Iris vibes 🕊#Lord Ren vibes 🐺#Draegan vibes 🥀#vampirelovestory #vampire #demon #ao3 fanfic #lovestory #angst #smut #slow burn #regency era

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just-another-author-i-guess · 5 years ago

Text

The unholy

Warnings: she/her pronounced reader, mentions of blood and biting, some making out, but honestly there’s not much, I didn’t edit it through tho but what did you really expect

Pairing: bts ot7 x reader, nun! reader, princess! reader, vampire! Jin x reader, hybrid! Namjoon x reader, hybrid! Yoongi x reader, vampire! Hoseok x reader, vampire! Jimin x reader, hybrid! Taehyung x reader, hybrid! Jungkook x reader

Parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 -

Author’s note: so it’s currently really late and I’m just now finishing this, which I should have done yesterday but oh well. Anyways, since it’s so late and I’m so damn tired there’s probably a lot of mistakes and stuff and I’m really sorry, but it’s too late to edit it through and I’m sooo tired, and I have school tomorrow T.T damn this chapter just sucks. Anyways I hope you’ll still enjoy it, I would love to know if you did enjoy it!

(Updates; every Sunday!)

Summary:

The king and queen, your mother and father, rules the southern kingdom. The eastern and the western are ruled by kings and queens alike, but the northern are ruled by the most unholy of creatures. Or so you've been told.

Every citizen in the three kingdoms, have been warned about the creatures of the north, and it is with good reason they're all terrified. All your life, your parents have tried to keep the knowledge of the northern creatures from you, but that just made you more curious. Everyday, you would sneak down to the castle library, and read everything you could about the north, wanting to know the secret behind the unholy land.

That of course didn't go well with your parents, and when they found out they decided to send you to the most holy of places, to forget about everything you've read. One of the biggest church organizations in the south agreed to take you in, to rehabilitate you and learn you that you should never question such things as the northern creatures.

By day, you follow the strict prioress around as she lectures you about the holy and the unholy, and by night, you have to go on patrol alone through the church as a punishment for reading about the unholy. But one night, everything changes, when you find the prioress dead, with bite marks all over her body. Of course, you have read about this, and you know exactly what killed her.

But what happens when that exact creature you've read about, shows up right in front of you?

Taglist:

(Please let me know if you want to be tagged!)

@joonsroses @boononx @i-am-supermerwholoked221b @karissassirak @bvblackarmy @queenbianca-7 @someslightobsessions

It wasn’t the first time, you woke up in strange new surroundings, and it surely wouldn’t be the last, but this time it was neither the bathroom nor Seokjin’s bedroom, and you weren’t alone.

Slowly, you blinked your eyes open, definitely not missing the way your head instantly began to pound, as your eyes searched the foreign room.

Your eyes widened, and with a slight gasp and a startled expression, you met the scarlet eyes, of a girl dressed in a similar dress as yours, sitting on your bed and smiling down at you, pearly white fangs on display.

“Oh thank god!”

She exclaimed, and looked like she could jump on you and hug you at any moment, but she didn’t, she just kept smiling, and you were sure that her mouth would be aching by the time she stopped.

“Seokjin would just about have murdered Jeongguk, if you didnt wake up,”

She continued, never even giving the fact that you had no idea who she was a thought, as she continued to ramble on about Seokjin’s distress.

Carefully and with stiff limbs, you started to move up from under the covers, slowly sitting up and feeling you sore body as the girl looked at you with careful eyes.

Her smile was hypnotizing, your eyes seemed to be permanently glued to her pearly white fangs, as her mouth remained in the same wide smile.

Suddenly, a thought seemed to cross her mind, and her smile faded, but the gleam in her eyes remained the same, as she lowered the voice, and leaned closer into you, the smell of metal following her every breath.

“Is it true that Seokjin fed from you?”

The words were carefully punctuated, and just as quick as she leaned in did she pull away, leaving you with a rather confused expression.

“S-sorry?”

Your voice was hoarse, and your throat felt raw as you spoke, as if you hadn’t had water in days.

“You know, there’s a rumor going around, and it’s a great honor to have Seokjin drink from you, and even having fed from him,”

She continued, and your mind began to spin as you tried your best to remember, you tried so hard, but your memory was like a static tv. You furrowed your eyes brows, as the pounding behind your skull got worse, quick flashes of Jeongguk’s fangs flashed before your mind and you started to wonder if your whole interaction with Jeongguk actually happened.

“I-I can’t remember,”

You stuttered, as the intense pounding kept building up, making it hard to focus on the girls shiny fangs, as you shut your eyes hard and pressed your palms against your forehead, helplessly.

“But that’s what everyone is saying, that you’re Seokjin’s feeder, and he said himself that he gave you blood to keep you alive-“

“Aera, enough.”

Suddenly, the door was opened, almost violently, and Seokjin’s voice cut through the air like sharp knife, trying to cut into the girl, Aera as well.

Shocked almost, her eyes widened, and she stood up, head held low as she turned around to face Seokjin.

“I-I’m sorry your highness-“

She started, but only received a half threatening growl from Seokjin in response.

“Continue your chores for now, but don’t ever come in here unless you’re told to, understood?”

Seokjins voice was dripping with authority, the same voice he used to scold Taehyung, Hoseok and Jeongguk prior, and if it hadn’t been for the blinding headache a shiver would have run down your spine.

Aera merely whimpered in response, before scurrying out of the room, her quick footsteps could be heard down the hall long after she was gone.

“Drink some water,”

Suddenly, Seokjin was sitting were Aera had been sitting seconds ago, holding out a glass filled with icy water towards you, and with shaky hands you accepted, quickly gulping down the water like your life depended on it.

Slowly, the headache seemed to calm itself, and your brain was now only numbly bumping against your skull, easier to ignore.

Carefully you handed Seokjin the glass, arm tiredly lifting itself off the bed and reaching out to Seokjin.

“What happened?”

You demanded, as soon as the glass was set back on the table, searching Seokjin’s brilliant eyes for answers, but receiving nothing.

“What did Aera ask you?”

He shot back, and you shook your head, more careful than you normally would, as your eyes continued to search Seokjin’s.

“You didn’t answer my question, what happened with Jeongguk?”

You continued, not intending to give up. After coming here, you had gotten absolutely no answers from no one, and you were getting fed up.

Seokjin’s eyes seemed to harden, when you mentioned Jeongguk’s name and quick memories of the interaction with Jeongguk began to flash before you.

You remember how incredibly nice it felt, when you felt asleep against his chest, and how he didn’t feel cold and unwelcoming, unlike Seokjin and, what was the other boy called, Yoongi.

Both their eyes were cold and deep red, but Jeongguk’s was so much more human like, they were big, and brown and welcoming. They were everything Seokjin wasn’t, and you had to fight the shiver that went through you, when Seokjin leaned closer and you could feel the coolness emitting off of him.

Seokjin sighed, he sounded just as tired as he always did when you pried, and he looked the part too. He looked like he hadn’t fed in days; he looked like Jeongguk had before he fed on you.

Suddenly, the same strange sensation went through you. You wanted, no you needed to let Seokjin feed on you, you needed to feel his fangs sink into your skin and you needed to see how his cheeks would round and turn a more pinkish color than the pale white they were now.

“S-Seokjin, are you hungry?”

The question itself was an intruder in your mouth, but it escaped before you could even react, making Seokjin look at you with a shocked, almost worried expression.

“If you’re hungry, you should feed,”

You continued, the words escaping your lips without your consent, as you absentmindedly began to lift you tired arm, presenting your wrist to him, already with two, almost faded bike marks on it from Taehyung.

“(y/n), stop,”

Seokjin started, his eyes betraying him, as they followed the multiple bitemarks visible on you, and the tip of his pink tongue, coming out to wet his lips, fangs gently starting to protrude his botttom lip.

“You look hungry,”

You hummed, the idea of Seokjin sinking his fangs into your wrist, making you blood almost boil over with excitement and your body began feeling warm and fuzzy just at the thought, a weird contrast to Seokjin’s ice cold one.

“You lost a lot of blood already bunny,”

Despite his words, slender fingers began to gently curl around your wrist, making goosebumps appear as his cold digits met your skin.

Your eyes seemed lost in each other’s, as Seokjin gently brought your wrist to his mouth, furrowing his brows as the smell of blood started to take a hold of him, but still fighting against it with the little self control he had left.

Slowly, his tongue game out to taste your salty skin, and instantly a shudder ran through him, just at the thought of tasting your blood once more.

Truth be told, you were right; Seokjin was hungry. He hadn’t fed since the night in the church, afraid to take too much, and drain you too soon, but his brothers sure didn’t care for his worry. He had endured watching both Hoseok, Taehyung and Jeongguk drink from you, without ever having a taste himself, and he was getting fed up.

He brought you here to be his feeder, not theirs, his.

The thought made Seokjin growl against your skin, almost animalistic, as his fangs began to slightly poke at your wrist, without cutting into the skin.

His brothers weren’t supposed to drink from you, they should be drinking animal blood he gave them, the only exceptions being himself, Jeongguk and Yoongi.

The thought made him slightly retreat his fangs, it wouldn’t be safe for any of you if he drank from you now, you needed to have your bloodlevels up, and he should be in his right mindset, not just doing it out of raw jealousy.

“Bunny I can’t, it’s not safe,”

He let your wrist go, mourning the loss of the delicious smell emitting from you, as he watched your arm limply fall down on the sheets.

“But Jeongguk could-“

You started, feeling the unbearable loss when Seokjin let go, still desperate to see his cheeks full and well fed.

“Jeongguk doesn’t care about safety,”

Seokjin cut you off, voice sharp as his still protruding fangs, and you instantly quiet down, as he let out a long sigh.

“Besides, you don’t have to feed me, bunny, I’ll come to you when I need it,”

He spoke again, voice turning softer, as he looked at you with soft, caring eyes, fangs slowly disappearing.

“Jeongguk’s And Taehyung’s venom must still be messing with you, it’s never a good idea to combine it,”

Seokjin sighed, looking at you with worry in his eyes, as you let the past few days slowly weigh down on you. Some parts of your memory were still fuzzy, but slowly you were starting to vividly remember the way Hoseok and Taehyung had fed on you in the kitchen, and the way Jeongguk had growled when they had tried to pull him away from you.

You lightly cocked your head to the side, not completely getting what he was hinting at, but remembering him mentioning it when you were inside the lab room with Jeongguk.

“Don’t worry too much about it,”

He spoke again, voice a little more strained this time, and you noticed once again how tired he actually looked, you wanted nothing more than to offer him a space on the bed, cuddling up to him and sleeping until all your troubles went away, but before you could even open your mouth he spoke again.

“Namjoon will come in a bit, the two of you will go to the library so he can tell you a bit more about the different venoms,”

Seokjin sounded sounded so hollow, just as hollow as he looked, when he got up from the bed, making the wood under his feet slightly creek, and before you could even blink, he was long gone down the hall, and you were left all to yourself, to wonder who exactly Namjoon was.

Later that day, a tall boy, definitely taller than Seokjin and the rest, with a friendly smile and dimples, contrasting his pitch black hair and pale skin, knocked on your door.

“I’m Namjoon, Seokjin sent me to get you,”

He shortly explained, giving you another friendly smile, again making a big contrast to his icy cold skin.

You nodded once, and for up to follow him out the door, as you took in his attire from behind. He was dressed like Seokjin and the others, the only way you could describe it was prince-like.

He placed a protective hand on the small of your back, like Yoongi had done, but without pushing you, as he began to lead you to the library.

Walking down the many hallways, the castle was not nearly as empty as it had been the other multiple times you had been out in the halls. Now, the two of you would meet a servant almost at every corner, cleaning or doing other chores, and you couldn’t help but wonder if there were anyone down in the kitchens as well.

With the many new surroundings and people to look at, the walk didn’t seem to take long at all, and before you knew it, Namjoon had led you into a big, magnificent library, with books from all over the world.

He seemed pretty proud of the collection himself, as he went into explain about it, utterly mesmerized by the way your eyes would light up in excitement.

He let you to a group of comfortable looking, red chairs in a more secluded area of the library, and he gently patted one, indicating you to sit down.

“Here, Seokjin told me to give you this,”

Namjoon spoke, as he stood with his back to you, picking out books from the shelves. Suddenly he stopped, eyes focusing on a big, heavy book standing a little behind the others, and without the slightest struggle, did he pull it out and present it to you on the table.

‘The vampire anatomy’

Was written on it with big, bold, golden letters, and instantly your hands reached out to gently brush over the old looking book, afraid it might turn to dust in your grasp.

“You’ll need to know about us, if you’re going to stay here,”

Namjoon reasoned, taking a seat in a chair besides your, opening the book with less careful fingers, landing on a chapter about different venoms stored in a vampires fangs.

“Here, Seokjin wanted you to read this,”

You looked from the handwritten, cursive letters, to Namjoon with a curious expression, question after question just at the tip of your tongue.

“Seokjin mentioned something about Jeongguk and Taehyung’s venoms,”

You said absentmindedly, but Namjoon’s ears seemed to perk up, brilliant dark red orbs, searching yours.

“That would be because they’re fusing, when you’ve been bitten by different vampires in a small span of time, their venom’s will fuse and sometimes that can be very dangerous,”

He went onto explain, and you cocked your head.

“What about Hoseok then? Why didn’t he say anything about him?”

The questions came stumbling out of your mouth, but Namjoon didn’t seem to mind, happily lecturing you on what you needed to know.

“That’s because Hoseok’s venom is harmless, if you didn’t know about it’s existence it would be as if it was never even there, Taehyung and Jeongguk on the other hand both has dangerous venoms, and because they bit you in that short timespan they’re clashing, that is probably why you fainted when Jeongguk bit you,”

You hummed along, indicating you were listening, as you focused on Namjoon’s kind eyes, and the way his face lit up in a most endearing way when he was talking.

One thought was still bugging your mind though, you still couldn’t let go what the maid, Aera had said to your earlier.

It’s a great honor to have Seokjin bite you.

“Did Seokjin bite me while I was unconscious?”

The question slipped out of your mouth, surprising both yourself and Namjoon.

“Who told you that?”

His eyes narrowed slightly, and you sank the lump in your throat, slowly backing a little way when you realized you had leaned so much to the side that your head was practically leaning on Namjoon’s shoulder.

“A-a maid,”

You stuttered, and Namjoon just shook his head with a tired expression.

“Yes, yes Seokjin bit you, he didn’t feed off you though, he only bit you to balance out the fusion of Jeongguk and Taehyung’s venoms, and he also had to let you feed on him, but only to balance out your bloodlevels, Jeongguk almost killed you,”

Your eyes brows furrowed more with every new information, and you closed your eyes trying to grasp everything. Namjoon gently smiled at your confused expression, and handed the book back to you.

“Please read yourself,”

Carefully your hands grasped the book, lightly brushing Namjoon’s cold ones, and you placed the book in your lap.

Just half an hour into reading, did your mind start to get tired and the words you read were starting to make no sense.

From time to time, you would spare glances at Namjoon as he was deeply immersed in his own book, too immersed to really care about your boredroom, as you took in his sideprofile.

He was beautiful, there was no denying it, with his pitch black hair, slightly dipping down into his eyes, causing him to brush it away every few minutes, and his deep red, mesmerizing eyes as they scanned the book he was reading, along with his otherworldly proportions.

“Can I help you?”

A look, a little too cocky for his own good, adorned his features, and you realized in embarrassment that you had been caught, quickly looking up to meet his kind eyes, a subtle blush covering your face and ears.

“I-I’m sorry,”

You stuttered, as you began to realize just how close you were to him, noses almost brushing, when you turned your head.

Namjoon chuckled, voice noticeably lowering, making all sorts of emotions stir inside you. Long forgotten was the book, and whatever venom you were reading about, Namjoon being the only thing currently on your mind.

“No worries, bunny,”

He tilted his head a little, giving you a way too obvious invitation to his softlooking lips, and you couldn’t bring yourself to deny, slowly leaning forward again, lips carefully coliding.

Instantly, you sighed into the kiss, as his large hand came up to cup your rounded cheek, deepening the kiss, as you continued leaning forward, till you were almost halfway into his chair.

He felt like fire and ice, the kiss was soft and smooth, making your head spin, warm sensations shooting straight to your core as you felt his fangs slightly protruding, carefully poking at your bottom lip.

Testing out the waters, the tip of his pink tongue began to poke your bottom lip as well, carefully sliding into your mouth, dancing around your own tongue.

He tasted like metal and a certain sweetness that belonged to him, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, letting his tongue roam your mouth freely.

You did however need air, and sooner than you wanted to, you parted from him, a string of salvia connecting the both of you, making it clear how messy your kiss had actually been, and Namjoon looked at you with blown out pupils, fangs now fully on display for you and you felt your skin tingle.

He swallowed, hard.

“Can-can I have a taste?”

Without hesitation, you nodded, already offering him your wrist, like you did with Seokjin.

Instantly, his long fingers curlers around you, ice cold digits making contact with overheated skin, again feeling the wonderful feeling of fire and ice colliding.

First, his soft tongue came out to lap at your salty skin, followed by his nose, as he gently nosed around the area he intended to bite. He sucked and playfully nibbled at your skin, before finally biting down, sinking his teeth into the area he had already marked with a couple of hickies.

Your breathy moan escaped out into the empty library, as you felt his fangs sink in, instantly drawing moans and groans from him as well, as he slowly began to gulp down your sweet nectar.

You watched with hazy eyes as he drank, amazed by the way his Adam’s apple would bop up and down every time he sank another mouthful.

He was viciously licking at your bite marks the same time he was sucking, making sure no excess blood would go to waste as he fed.

Before long, he retreated with a satisfied groan, licking greedily around his mouth for any excess blood, two bite marks now permanently dug into your skin.

Your two wounds were still leaking the smallest amount of blood, but it was quickly fixed once Namjoon carefully dipped his thump into each wound, gathering whatever excess was left and greedily licking his fingers dry.

“Thank you, Bunny,”

He said, voice sincere as he gave your hand a squeeze, making your heart flutter when he didn’t let go, but only carefully intertwined your fingers, his big ones almost completely covering yours.

Much to your disappointment, Namjoon had to go sooner or later, leaving you to wonder around on your. You had just made your way out of the library, when a strange sensation filled you up.

It was the same feeling you had, before feeding Jeongguk, it was the same yearning to see his cheeks rounded and the happy satisfied look on his face, but he wasn’t there.

You could have sworn you were alone, except the couple servants walking around the castle cleaning and doing chores.

You felt restless, wondering around with the urge to find Jeongguk, but something told you that it was the last thing Seokjin would want you to.

You were torn, as you stood between the hallway that led to what you assumed must be a dining room, and the staircase you had talked earlier down to the kitchens.

“Bunny..”

A shiver ran down your spine, and you instantly turned around, upon hearing Jeongguk’s hoarse whisper in your ear, but nothing. The hallway couldn’t have been emptier.

“Bunny, I know you can hear me..”

Jeongguks voice continued, almost tauntingly as you stood there, confused in the hallway.

“Go to the dungeons, be a good girl and come down here for me, bunny,”

Your mind seemed to be made up, as you step by step, carefully began to walk down the stairs leading to the cellar and the kitchens.

“Come on Bunny, hurry up, I’m hungry..”

His raspy voice filled your senses, and instantly your only goal was to feed him, you wanted, no you needed to feed him, at the moment it was all your heart desired.

With your eagerness, it wasn’t long before you were stood before a big wooden door, looking like the kind of door you would never go through under any normal circumstances, but Jeongguk’s voice was egging you on.

“Come on Bunny, just open the door..”

He was persuasive, and you were sure you could feel him behind it, you knew he was there, and there was nothing you wanted more than to come to him, so it wasn’t long before your hands were gently placed against the wood of the door, and you pushed.

The door was heavy, but not so heavy you couldn’t open it, slowly you slid it open, revealing a dark room with multiple cages, all badly scratched up and clearly meant for something much stronger than a human.

Then you saw him, you gasped, and instantly forgot about the door as you ran to him, letting the door slam behind you.

“J-Jeongguk,”

The small amount of sunlight shining in through a tiny window, was just enough for you to see his state.

He was standing pressed up against the cage, looking paler than ever with hollowed our features and the most agonized look on his face.

Without even thinking, you instantly pressed yourself up against the cage as well, wanting to feel the small amount of warmth he emitted, and he instantly reached out through the bars, squeezing your hips trying to get your closer, closer, closer.

“Bunny..”

He rasped, looked down at you with dark eyes as he was towering over you.

“You found me,”

A cocky smirk crossed his features despite his state, and you instantly nodded, ready to do whatever he asked.

Gently, you let your fingers come up and hold his hollow cheeks, turning his face down so you could look into his brilliant eyes once more.

“What did they do to you?”

You whispered, worriedly stroking his cheekbones with your thumb, as you stood on your tiptoes, noses brushing as Jeongguk inhaled sharply.

“Nothing you cant fix,”

He reasoned, voice still raspy, boarding on a growl as he without warning leaned down and crashed his lips onto yours, almost violently, instantly igniting all sorts of flames in your lower stomach.

#i hope this is okay #bts fantasy au #bts x reader #bts prince au #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #min yoongi x reader #bts ot7 x reader #bts ot7 #bts vampire au #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader #kim taehyung x reader #jung hoseok x reader #park jimin x reader #bts vampire smut #bts v x reader

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