#Like I thought of it at some point but I was not expecting that shit
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goldsbitch · 2 days ago
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Blink Once
Lando thought taking care of his twin daughters would be the hard part. Turns out, he can manage. Now, figuring out which one is which - that's a whole different story.
2k word count warning: none - domestic, fluff, fun
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The room is in a state one could describe as a battlefield. Tiny clothes, diapers, creams, powders and God knows what scattered everywhere. There is also an intense stare down happening between the two pairs of blue eyes and one set of greenish. The latter belong to Lando, the former to his dearest offspring. The most adorable duo of little girls that he had ever seen. Every since they were born, he's been getting random streaks of immense pride throughout the day. That is until now, when he is staring at the two little grinning demons, holding a green sock in one hand a purple one in the other. Normally, he'd be overjoyed that he had managed to keep the two happy and not crying for so long. Y/N has gone out to much needed and postponed catch up with another adult, that's not Lando or anyone they're related to. It was his first time alone with the kids. He needed to prove it to her, and himself, that he can do it.
One of their daughters was expected, the other one was a happy surprise. To say taking care of two, instead of one, was a challenge for the new parents would be an understatement. Sleep deprived Lando was begging silently for his daughters to give him at least a clue to solving his latest fuck up. Identical twins. Y/N was so terrified of mixing them up, that the color designated socks and clothes were established right from the beginning. Olivia has green, Maya purple. Right?
He sighs dramatically, standing in the middle of the nursery and trying to recall which one had which pairs of socks on.
"Oh, how great of you that you can sit on your own now," he proclaims to the two, who keep beaming back at him, blabbering and apparently finding this very amusing. "If you could just magically learn how to talk now and tell me which one is which, that would be a-mazing!"
Nothing. Obviously. They have a long way to go to be able to do that. He tries to retrace his steps one more time. He put one on the changing dresser, that must have been the one with the green socks and went on to grab the other one to put her -on the left? Or was it right? He curses himself in creative swear words for taking the socks off so mindlessly.
It might be humiliating, but Lando is self-aware enough to have somewhat expected something like this to happen. He checks the shared note he and Y/N have. Ok - so it's right, Olivia is green and Maya purple. Great. Now which one is which?
He decides to sit them down in the living room - most likely mixing them once again, but what difference does that make now, he thinks.
He holds the two socks in front of their faces. This works with dogs, it must work with children too. He tries to brush over the fact he just compared his heirs to an animal.
"So, which one do you like better? Hm? You must have developed some sort of notion of which colour is yours at this point, right?" he speaks is sarcastic baby voice as the girls keep on laughing. Lando frowns. "This is not some sort of game, ladies. For all I know this might be the grounds for a divorce and your villain origin story." Nothing. No reaction to the socks, they just keep looking at him. Adorably.
He starts to properly panic now. Calls himself a shit parent, immature dad and just plain stupid idiot. Y/N is gonna kill him. He has to fix it somehow.
He tries different approach. "Olivia? Olivia, is it you? Blink twice if you’re Olivia. I’ll settle for a burp!" he speaks to the one on the left. It's like this child has stopped needing to blink completely. "So you're Maya?" he asks and figures the response of her hand reaching up must be enough to confirm her identity. He turns to the daughter on the right. "So, you're Olivia? Does that sound familiar?"
He is going to explain this to them one day, it's going to be a very funny story of how their father fucked up their whole life. Mixed them up so much that they end up becoming drug addicts. Oh, God. He is truly spiraling. Were they born with a destiny he’s now sabotaging by switching them? Or not switching them?
"Okay, Team Chaos. Maya, blink once. Or just scream, because that’s your go-to answer for everything anyway." He watches them intently and finally sees a blink! And immediately another one from the other child. He groans and puts his head in his hands. After a moment spent in a pit of despair, he comes back to reality with new found determination. He is a father, their father. His instincts must work. He picks one up and in the air and examines her intently. Turning her left, right and upside down. And then the second one. He's got nothing. These kids are point to point exact copies of each other.
As a typical young parent, he turns to internet for help. And as per usual, he finds zero reliable advice to go with. No - there is no secret birthmark on one of them. No, they both have identical eye color. No, there is no difference in their teeth. In amidst of all of this, he panic buys a fingerprint kit and full on plans on preventing this from happening in the future.
He comes back to stare at his kids, who are uncharacteriscally quiet, calm and content. As if they know that for the first time in weeks, he does not need their help to achieve chaos in his mind.
He calls the one person who is smart, won't probably laugh too much in his face, won't tell Y/N on him and might understand his parent panic.
Max Verstappen picks up after third dial.
"Lando!" he greets him cheerfully. At least someone is having a good time. "What's up? How's the new parent life looking out for you?"
Lando gets to the point straight. He is after all running out of time. "I've mixed up the twins. Don't laugh. I don't know what to do."
"What do you mean, you’ve ‘mixed up’ the twins?" the Dutchman asks.
Lando rolls his eyes, how does one not understand the simple premise. "I mean, I was changing their diapers, I took their socks off, and now I don’t know which one is Olivia and which one is Maya. I’ve stared at them for an hour, and they’re just...Point to point the same."
Max bursts out laughing on the other end of the line, a loud, unfiltered laugh that makes Lando cringe. He waits for the inevitable to end and lets him speaks first.
"So I assume you're alone with them? Is Y/N out of the house?" Why is that important, Lando does not understand.
"Yes. I’m serious, Max! They’re identical. Identical! It’s like trying to tell apart two...marshmallows. Two tiny, giggling, adorable and judgmental marshmallows who know I’m losing it and find it hilarious."
It seems that Max is finally somewhat on board with the seriousness of it all. "Right. So what’s the plan? Are you just gonna call them ‘Baby One’ and ‘Baby Two’ until Y/N gets home?"
Lando pinches the top of his nose in frustration. "Max, I need to solve this. If I don’t figure this out, Y/N will kill me. She was already paranoid about this happening, and now I’ve gone and done it. I mean, what if I ruin their entire lives, Max? What if they grow up thinking they’re each other-"
Max is solution oriented. So he jumps into interrupting the young father, because he might have just got on forever.
"Okay, okay, calm down. Let’s think this through. Did you check for a birthmark? Sometimes one of them will have a birthmark or something small that’s different."
Lando groans loudly. "No birthmark, no physical difference, Max, my kids look identical and I can't recognize them apart at all!"
"Hm," he stops to think, Lando stops to think and hopefully the whole world stops for a moment so he can fix his cardinal mistake. "What about… I don’t know, their personalities? Isn’t one supposed to be louder than the other?"
Lando appreciates the idea, first good one. Sadly, not a helpful one. He keeps staring at menace his children are. "They’re both loud. And they both cry at the exact same time, like they’ve rehearsed it. I think they’re doing this on purpose to mess with me."
"At least you can be sure you're the father," Max rhetors and laughs again.
"Not funny," Lando gritts his teeth.
"Well, I’d mess with you too if you were my dad."
"MAX."
"Okay, fine, fine. Why don’t you just pick one, call her Olivia, and call the other one Maya, and just stick with it? What’s the worst that could happen?" he tries to calm Lando, but it backfires masivelly.
Lando is now pissed at Max as well. The guy has kids far apart in age to obviously not understand the gravity of the situation. And he's more that willing to make him understand. "The worst? The worst! I’ll tell you the worst. What if they figure it out when they’re older and I’ve been calling Olivia ‘Maya’ for years? What if Maya’s like, ‘Wow, Dad, you didn’t even know who I was?’ And Olivia’s like, ‘I always knew I was the favorite.’ And then they hate me forever and end up in therapy, and the therapist is like, ‘Your father was a moron who couldn’t even tell you apart."
"That… sounds like a lot of "future you" problems."
Lando start to pray silently to all the gods he's aware of. "Future seems pretty damn close, given Y/N probably comes home any minute now."
And that's when he hears the door open. Fuck.
"Just wait when they're teenagers and start switching on purpose," is the last he hears from Max before hanging up indefinitely. Lando freezes, the phone slipping from his hand and landing on the carpet with a soft thud. His eyes dart between the door and the two grinning culprits, who have now decided to crawl toward each other and share in their apparent victory. He whispers under his breath, “Traitors. Both of you.”
He gets up automatically, the plan now being wooving Y/N, the mother of his devil children, out by his adorableness. It worked when he was trying to get to agree to go on a first date with him, it has to work now. He wonders into the kitchen, where he sees her putting some box of pastries onto the counter.
"Hello, my love," he attacks and immediately steps all over to her personal space. Hand on her cheek, the other one on her hips and he locks them in a kiss. He's not fully certain it works, but it earns him a pleased smile. Baby steps - no pun intended. "So, what did you do?" He know already, coffee date with a bestie, bla bla bla, but he needs to buy himself some time. She tells him anyway and he is pleased to her happy, for the last time in their lives probably. Oh, what a nice journey this has been. He gets lost in the love-filled thoughts that he temporarily forgets about his predicament.
She kisses him gently one more time and flashes a look into the living room. "Look at them, so happy." Fuck, that was quick. It was foolish of him to rely on the fact Y/N might just forget about their kids. "How’s everything going? Did the girls behave?"
Behave. Right. The girls behaved perfectly. It was him who had descended into chaos.
"Yeah! All good on that front. We're a great team!" he responds, maybe too enthusiastically. He is certain this was the last time she's left him alone with the them, until they're able to identify themselves on their own. It was fun while it lasted. The pit of despair in his stomach is growing.
"It makes me so happy to see you all having fun," she says and it's the kind of relaxed smile he hasn't seen on her face for weeks now.
"Honey, do you wanna take a nap or some alone time in the bedroom?," he asks sincerely, casually tangling their hands together. "Looks like some time off suits you." This is not said as a part of his salvage plan. It is actually really nice to see her rested for once. She looks at him sheepishly.
"You're amazing, you know that?" she whispers, several positive emotions written all over her face.
"Keep focused on that," he says before he can stop himself. Fuck once again. He freezes. She winces, her spidey senses on. He glance is averted to the children now.
"Lando, did something happen?" she asks, suddenly worried.
This time Lando looks over at the girls, who are still preocuppied by themselves. "No, all good. Look at them, all content." And mixed up, he thinks, but does not add that.
Y/N does not look conviced and goes over to check up on them herself. He does not stop her. It was bound to happen anyway.
He's an adult. Knows well enough from his high demanding job that fessing up to a mistake is ultimately better than have someone find out. Deep breath in. Here goes everything.
"I don't know which one is which," he says and lets the reality of it sink in. Y/N looks at him with eyes wide out. He continues. "I was changing their diapers, took the socks of and then forgot which one is which. I'm sorry."
She stares at him, then at the girls and right back at him. To add some gravitas to it all, the kids are now playing with both socks. Lando is pretty sure the blood stopped flowing in his veins. He tries to calculate how long it's going to take him to pack his stuff up. Y/N kneels down to level with the girls and smiles at them. Lando's fighting the urge to take a photo, so that he can remember what having a family felt like. Then she picks up the child sitting on her left.
"Hi, Olivia," he mumbles and puts the sock on accordingly. Lando does not compherend. "Hello, Maya," she continues and repeats her action. Has his wife just decided which one is which and moved on? He could have done that minutes ago! He stays silent as he takes careful steps toward his family. Y/N stands up as well and looks at her disheweled husband.
"Olivia's got little tiny dimples," she says simply to provide some explanation.
"What?" is the only response Lando is capable of giving her. She waits with a sneaky smile as he comes over to them and examines the girls one more time. After a moment, he speaks again. "You're lying."
She laughs and dismisses that. "No, I'm not, look." Lando still can't see a damn difference, but decides on believing Y/N. "How do you-"
She shrugs her shoulders. "I guess it's mom instincts." Lando is stunned at how casual she is about this all. Just like that, she goes back to unloading her back to the kitchen. Lando's heartbeat slowly goes down to the normal a human is suppose to have and turn to watch Y/N. When he's sure that she in fact not being sarcastic, does not seem to be mad at him and confirms that he might just have survived this all and gets to keep access to his family, he walks over her to cherish her once again.
"I'm so sorry, I was really trying to avoid doing that," he apologizes, still not quite done being guilty. "I know you were afraid of this."
She turns to him with a smile. "It was bound to happen eventually. I was really worried about that when we came back from the hospital," she glances at the little girls lovingly. "I'm with them so much that I guess I started to see the tiny, miniscule differences. Don't feel bad not doing so," she walks over to him to be the one doing the comforting.
"If you want me to keep them straight, we’re gonna have to tattoo their names on their foreheads. I’m kidding. Kind of."
She chuckles. "Yeah, do that and you are dead."
He shakes his head. "Always dismissing my genius ideas."
"And always will be, honey," she leans over and kisses him. Just like that, the perfect moment is over. Sounds of crying creeping in from the living room. Y/N sighs into their kiss.
Lando looks at his two identical, mischievous daughters, he can’t help but smile. He may not have a clue what he’s doing, but one thing’s for sure. Life with these two is going to be anything but boring.
"Go lie down, honey. I got this," he notes and this time Y/N nods back at him.
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notenoughdragons · 2 days ago
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okay so i actually wrote something for this bc the idea possessed me, please enjoy everyone :3
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The ruin’s… well, ruined. Half a cave, perhaps an underground temple, but the walls on the surface are mostly rubble. Still, beside the entrance looms a statue of a wolf, overgrown with moss and lichens and ivy, yet otherwise whole.
Solas sucks in a quiet breath. Saar gives him a look.
“You all right?” she asks quietly. Felassan is already climbing onto the statue’s back, egged on by Sera.
“I—yes. Of course.”
Saar watches him a moment longer, then pats his back. “All right. Tell me if that changes, will you?”
“Saar!” Sera yells. “Look! Does Fenny wanna play fetch?”
She’s holding up a big stick, pretending to throw it for the statue. Saar snorts out a giggle. Felassan, meanwhile, stands on the statue’s back and is resting his elbows on the wolf’s head, watching all of them.
“What is this, the tenth statue like this?” Saar muses as she approaches. “Someone either really wanted to make sure the Dread Wolf stays out, or they actually liked him.” She reaches out to pet the wolf’s snout. Felassan’s eyes follow the motion like wisp lights.
“There are stories of Fen’Harel where he—” he begins.
“Legends born from nothing but superstition, I'd wager,” Solas interrupts flatly from behind Saar.
Saar keeps her hand on the stone. Lets her magic seep through her skin. And from deep within the carved rock, a whisper responds…
“This isn’t superstition,” she says. “I think—someone tried to protect this place? There are, were wards woven into this. But they set them into a statue of Fen’Harel, like he’s… I don’t know, the guardian of this place?”
Felassan rests his cheek on one hand, eyes still lilac-bright. His gaze drifts somewhere past Saar.
“I wonder what he’d think of that,” he says. “Of you, calling him a guardian, I mean.”
“Well, I know what Keeper Deshanna would call me for it, and it’s a reckless fool.” Saar chuckles. “But she called me that for plenty of other reasons too.” Absently, she pats the wolf’s flank as she goes past it to the entrance of the underground area. “Let’s see what he’s protecting, huh?”
“Thank Andraste’s knickers and tits and ass,” Sera groans. “I thought you were gonna have another hour-long yapping about old elf shit.”
Saar grins. “Oh, I can do both, trust me.”
Halfway down the stairs, she turns around to see where in the blights Solas and Felassan have gotten to because neither of them made so much as a peep. They’re still standing before the entrance, staring at each other. Felassan’s leaning against the wolf statue’s chest, arms crossed, radiating belligerence. Solas’ knuckles are pale where they wrap around his staff, his spine a stiff line. Saar half expects them to start screaming at each other and is about to haul them down the stairs…
“Oi! You two’re gonna get grown over if you keep loiterin’ like that!”
Like a spell releasing, they relax, and turn to follow.
That’s gonna explode at some point, Saar is pretty sure. But for now, they’ve got a ruin to explore.
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Solas had to kill Felassan because Felassan would have heard that a man named Solas joined the Inquisition and signed up immediately just to follow the Inquisitor around and be like “you know this reminds me of a Dalish legend about Fen’Harel stop me if you’ve heard this one before have I told you about the time Andruil almost tricked him into being her lover for a year” while Solas sweats bullets in the background knowing he can’t interrupt or stop him without looking suspicious as hell
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spookyserenades · 3 days ago
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Sanctity - Chapter Two
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Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader
Genre/Themes; Vampire!AU, yandere!AU, horror, themes of the supernatural and mythology, historical topics, vampiric powers, religious themes, violence, romance
Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, toxic behavior including stalking, torture, and manipulation, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is strongly advised.
Word Count; 20.3k
Sanctity Masterlist
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WELCOME BACK! I love you all. I'd like to highlight some warnings here for this chapter straight off the bat: there are major dub-con moments in this chapter of sexual nature. Multiple character deaths, suicidal thoughts, abuse, and quite a bit of graphic gory scenes are included in this update. Please know this is a work of HORROR FICTION as well! This got especially macabre because it's like ice age in New England LMAO. I hope you all enjoy this update and kisses from yours truly, Dana <3
WARNING! There are instances of DEATH, gore and dubious consent. This work of fiction does not remotely reflect members of BTS in reality. The boys are written to be toxic in Sanctity (yandere). Please be warned if this is triggering to you.
Previous Chapter // Next Chapter
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How much time passed, Y/N did not, nor would she ever, know. Bit by bit, the first thing that returned to her was her sense of smell– something thick and smoky filling her nostrils, maybe an offertory incense blend from the chapel. The second sense was her hearing, and still expecting the Sanctuary’s bell tower to wake her up, her body went stiff when she heard old-timey music and several different male voices. Shit– the next thing she was aware of was her recent memories. 
Eyes flying open, she was laying down on some kind of upholstered settee, still wearing the velvet mini dress from dinner, which was almost hiked up around her hips. Horrified and woozy from both her blood being drained, multiple glasses of wine and liquor, and her state of exposure, she sat up abruptly. Staring down at her freshly polished toes, bare and lacking the fancy heels she was wearing earlier, Y/N froze at the sound of her name being called while she pulled her dress back down, her mind jumping to a conclusion that one of them actually touched her while she was unconscious. 
“Finally awake? You’d think after that meal, you’d at least be able to stand on your feet once Seokjin bit you. He hardly took anything,” Jeongguk approached her first, holding a cue stick and staring down at her with a smirk. He had ditched his sports jacket, the first few buttons on his white shirt pulled free and his tie hanging limply around his neck.
Scrambling to a fully seated position, Y/N saw that her shoes were nowhere to be seen, and she had been carried by someone into the billiard’s room adjoining the space where they had dinner. Perhaps one of the vampires removed her shoes so she couldn’t use the stilettos as a pointed weapon. Sick to the back teeth of being teased and manipulated, especially when she felt her neck and wrist throbbing and saw how perfectly healthy Jeongguk had become after drinking her blood, her eyes narrowed nearly shut. 
“I’m sure it was the fucking wine glass he slit my wrist into was what prevented me from having normal goddamn footing,” Y/N fumed as best she could with a completely dried-out throat, Jeongguk’s smirk widening and showing his teeth at the outburst. 
“What a filthy mouth you’ve got, ma chérie,” Hoseok teased through laughter, all while leaning over a massive pool table and aiming his cue at a white ball. The new nickname from the ex-pirate, whatever language it came from, had her feeling belittled and repulsed– even if Hoseok’s drawl was soulful and spellbinding. It was as if in her slumber, she had managed to grow an even stronger spine. 
“My name’s Y/N, not whatever you just called me. Not pet, not ‘little girl,’ not ‘dove’. If you’re all going to torture me, at least afford me the favor of not patronizing me,” Y/N stood, making sure to make pointed eye-contact with both Hoseok and Jimin; the latter of which was lazily draped on another settee across the room with a cordial glass and a lit cigar. 
“Ah, true colors. I hoped you were as meek as you pretended to be yesterday afternoon, but it seems my initial suspicions were correct. How tiring,” Seokjin was by the fireplace, not sparing her a glance as the flames illuminated his side profile. He appeared to be the only one with his suit still flawlessly intact, one of his hands buried in the pocket of his slacks while the other braced his weight on the marble mantle. 
“Who carried me in here?” Y/N ignored Seokjin, trying to find her shoes. For some reason, her bare feet on the marble had her feeling more vulnerable than her disheveled dress. 
“No one violated you, girl,” Seokjin snapped, all while ignoring her request to remove pet names from his vocabulary. The fog of Jeongguk entering her mind and offering up her secret thoughts to the eldest vampire made Y/N wince, spurring her foolish outburst to go beyond the reach of her control.
“That wasn’t my question,” Y/N’s hands balled into fists, so blind with rage and the instinct to battle for her life that she snapped. “Stay out of my head, you!” 
Y/N all but spat at Jeongguk while pointing at him, the young vampire still wearing that infuriating grin, Y/N storming past him with her feet slapping against the Italian marble to confront Seokjin. Again, a part of her was screaming that Jeongguk could be her kin as he watched, with his youthful appearance– the only thing that had her storming by was the demonic color of his irises. 
At first, she was blasting by the youngest vampire and barreling towards Seokjin, however, a palm covered in buttery leather wrapped around the base of her throat that stopped her in her tracks effectively, harshly. Met with cold, glowing red eyes, Y/N could hardly crane her neck up at Namjoon towering over her, Seokjin sighing from behind Namjoon. 
“If you must know, pest, I brought you in here. Watch your tongue and know your place,” Namjoon’s fingers flexed against the sides of her throat, dark hair in his eyes when Y/N felt the rush of blood in her arteries frantically trying to find a place to go. Paired with the sting of the leather rubbing against Seokjin’s earlier bite, Y/N heeded Namjoon’s warning and nodded as best she could just so he would let her go. 
“Did you not see what Namjoon-ah could do during dinner? If his power can affect Jimin that strongly, what do you think it can do to you?” Seokjin cut in softly, snapping his fingers once. With the sharp sound that contrasted the vampire’s dulcet tone, Namjoon released Y/N’s throat immediately, leaving her to double over and gasp for breath. “Let’s make one thing clear. You can curse at us as much as you please, but do not think you are above being punished for rash actions. I can promise you, I am not a merciful man– Namjoon-ah even less so.”
Y/N felt defeat again, the spark of rebellion in her extinguished thoroughly. The shiny black shoes and pressed pants in front of her seemed blurry, Namjoon towering over her like a steel wall. When she could straighten up again, Y/N flinched at the vampire’s expression: hateful, but the mean smile on his face created sweet little dimples on his cheeks, which contradicted just about everything else about the vampire. His expression, in the best translation Y/N could come up with, was someone contemplating just how to tear another piece by piece with relish.
“Will you drain me dry like your last acolyte?” ​​Y/N rasped, addressing Seokjin but still staring straight at Namjoon, as if one small movement from her would have him lunging. 
Hearing Jimin’s light snickering from across the room did nothing but heighten Y/N’s  humiliation about being put in her place once more. Glancing at him, she spotted Yoongi in the corner, a sketchbook in his lap and apparently not paying any attention to the spectacle. Also disinterested was Taehyung, leafing through a newspaper and puffing on a cigar he was sharing with Jimin. 
“Maybe,” Seokjin hummed, letting Namjoon fall back into the shadows beside an old phonograph still playing age-weathered music. “Maybe not. Behave, and there’s no reason to fear for your life.”
“She wants to shorten her sentence, Seokjin,” Yoongi finally interjected, fingertips covered in inky charcoal. Darkly, Y/N thought that perhaps Yoongi might be the one with the most sense, and that wasn’t saying much. 
“Ever play pool, Y/N?” Hoseok asked suddenly, injecting enough snark into the girl’s name rolling off of his tongue to have her grimacing. 
“Doubt she’s ever even played checkers, Hoseok,” Jeongguk replied, yanking his tie dangling over his shoulder and tossing it on the floor. While leaning over the table to take his own shot, Y/N’s vision focused on the lean, hard-muscled frame Jeongguk had: the thin button-down he had on strained against his toned arms and his sides as he lined up the pool cue between his index and middle fingers. Namjoon aside– there would be no way she could ever be a match to Jeongguk alone.  
“Is it permitted for me to retire now?” Y/N spoke through gritted teeth, muscles in her legs twitching when the petty side of her personality threatened to theatrically curtsy. Distantly, Jeongguk’s mouth corner curled up in amusement– catching the mental image she conjured.
“Say goodnight first, won’t you now?” Jimin trilled, voice curling seductively over the mosaic ceiling, and right when Y/N thought that she had recovered from Namjoon’s chokehold, Jimin was casting another deeply-rooted spell on her. “Taehyung has a question, don’t you?”
Taehyung. The one who so casually dared to impersonate someone close to her, to pretend to be Joseph. While she dreaded nothing more than even looking at the very vampire, Jimin’s roots were so quickly penetrating her bones she found with horror that she was no more than a puppet on a string for him. 
Not even seconds later, Y/N was stumbling over her own bare feet to get to the seating area where the two young vampires were– Yoongi still off to the side, Taehyung lowering his newspaper and passing the lit cigar to Jimin. While hyper aware of Jimin’s hold on her, Y/N’s attention was conquered by Taehyung’s intense, stony expression. Clearing his throat, the shiny gel that was previously taming his midnight waves during dinner was cracking, leaving piecey curls hanging in his face. 
“Tell me, now. Was my answer sufficient?” Taehyung began, tracing his pointer finger over his moistened lower lip, almost cherry red in color thanks to her blood affording him a complexion. 
Y/N’s eyebrows knit in confusion, every nerve in her body pulsing with a dim throb the longer Jimin kept her docile and hypnotized. 
“Huh?” Y/N’s eyelids were heavy, so she found herself batting her eyelashes more frequently than she normally did. “I didn’t ask you anything.”
“Master Taehyung was referring to his reply to you during dinner. Was his reply more or less something ‘Joseph’ would say? Was it enough, dove?”
 Jimin was staring at his nails, one of his trim shoulders slipping out from under his loose shirt collar, and Y/N– to her mortification– immediately thought that the garment had become quite useless, so why was Jimin even bothering to keep it on at all? To deepen her mortification, an amused snicker coming from Jeongguk had her wishing the stained glass lamp above him would come loose and sever his head from his shoulders. Jeongguk’s laughter only became louder when reading her murderous thoughts, the sound of it lively and boyish– not the laughter of a lethal creature. 
Y/N paused, rewinding her memory to dinner. At that time, she really believed that her friend Joseph had been permitted to visit her. Like a bucket of glacial water dumped over her head when realizing her own naivety, she also realized it wasn’t just Jeongguk who could reach into her mind– Jimin could do it, Seokjin could do it and share the way into her head with everyone else. Jeongguk wasn’t laughing anymore. 
“Joe– oh. You, I suppose. You said something about never forgetting me and writing frequently, no?” Y/N, under the puppet strings Jimin was using to keep her steady, was able to study Taehyung’s face with rapt interest; her rational self locked away in some dark corner of her mind. “I think that’s when the coherent part of me sensed something wrong. Joseph hates writing letters, and he’d never talk so sentimentally. Yeah, we were close, but like cat-and-mouse siblings.”
“Still, hyung. Jeongguk mentioned he could not accurately understand the girl’s thoughts at that moment. It seems… peculiar,” Namjoon’s voice, all velvet, filled the room, addressing the eldest vampire still watching the flames in the fireplace. 
“Peculiar? No. The most sound theory is that her thoughts were too animal and stupid for Jeongguk to hear, Namjoon-ah,” Seokjin wasn’t fond of entertaining mysteries or anything that required him to put time and energy into, particularly if the subject matter surrounded a human being. “Forget it. We always deal with issues promptly, and I’m not deeming the girl’s slow mind an issue yet.”
“I suppose I can’t blame myself for not knowing what your acquaintance would say word for word. Jeongguk only had time to go through a handful of memories.”
Y/N didn’t like Taehyung’s dry, holier-than-thou attitude. He had zero decency to look her in the eye, rather looking through her and down his nose. Y/N sensed he was the type of man who had never heard the word ‘no’ in regards to anything. 
“Things have to happen in a timely manner, Y/N, you see? Everything is about timing– that is something I’ve learned again and again– Jeongguk had about half a second to comb through your mind before you would dissolve into complete hysterics. Complete hysteria from you, you’d have a drunk pirate giving you something worse to cry about,” Taehyung continued, giving Hoseok a deliberate, uninterested look when mentioning the ‘drunk pirate’. Hoseok wasn’t paying attention, too busy chalking up his pool cue to bother participating in the conversation. 
For a moment, all that Y/N could hear was a whooshing in her ears as Jimin’s hypnosis began to withdraw, her body promptly trembling with exhaustion as she stood before Taehyung. His tan suit, perfectly pressed, complimented his skin tone now that it was darker, his complexion probably resembling the healthiest peak of his human life. The gray veins over his temples were gone, and there were moles here and there splattered across his face. 
“That’s all… hmm, Jimin. Why don’t you call up to the second floor to make sure the human’s chambers are prepared for the night,” Taehyung gave Y/N one last cursory glance before plucking up his newspaper again. 
Y/N didn’t even hear Jimin waltz his way to an old-fashioned intercom system, murmuring something seductive into the device while his shirt began to pool around his elbows and expose nearly his entire chest and back. She only tuned in when she felt bizarre about standing in front of Taehyung so clearly dismissing her, a spark of hope at the idea of the privacy of her bedroom making her abruptly turn on her bare heels. 
“Awww, Juliana. That won’t do. Make sure her sheets are heated, too,” Jimin purred, Y/N getting the feeling that he was purposefully trying to prolong her time spent in the billiard’s room. “There will be a frost, come morning…”
Y/N separated herself from Taehyung’s proximity, trying to edge her way to the closest door, but unfortunately it was the one that was being watched by Namjoon still cloaked in the shadows. As she tried to look for an escape while hoping Jeongguk was distracted to notice her plotting, Y/N silently began to shuffle sideways.
Not that she got very far– as soon as Y/N reached a leather ottoman halfway to an unguarded door, she yelped when she lost feeling in her legs and promptly crumpled onto the piece of furniture. Her arms tried to brace her fall, but those limbs, too, were limp and refusing her brain’s command to move herself. 
“Nngh, ow! W-what?! What’s happening to me?” Y/N panicked, voice shrill and bouncing around the lofty room. Her body was completely limp, unable to flinch away even when someone began to arrange her legs by parting them, her dress riding up the back of her thighs again. 
Ascertaining who was touching her sans-permission was impossible, due to the fact that her cheek was squished against the ottoman and her line of sight was limited to a glass case filled with cigars. Humiliation licked Y/N’s skin with white-hot heat, no doubt in her mind the scrap of lace covering her modesty was somewhat on display as she was shaped to be bent over the ottoman. 
“Stop, s-stop, please. I can’t move—”
“Silenzio,” a deep, gritty voice was mere inches from her ear, the foreign word close enough to silence for her to get the hint. The record that was playing on the gramophone began to crackle, the needle scratching the label and needing to be flipped. “Stay put.”
“Like she can help it. You’ve paralyzed her,” Hoseok scoffed, trying to hide the fact that he was getting off on beating Jeongguk at their game of pool. It was looking like Hoseok would be driving Jeongguk’s Mercedes around town come morning. 
Paralyzed. Y/N had not a semblance of an idea of what she had done to cause offense to Yoongi, who was carding her hair over her shoulders methodically, but all she could do was lay there helplessly. His fingertips were warm on her forearm when he draped tresses over her waist in a sensual position, even going as far as to adjust how her fingers were splayed over her hip. 
“Master… master Y-yoongi…?” Y/N’s breath came out choppy, her diaphragm somewhat crushed thanks to her awkward weight distribution against the ottoman. 
“Noisy,” Yoongi murmured to himself, detached. Rolling his eyes, Hoseok set his cue down, approaching Yoongi and his current model with his hands on his hips. 
“If she’s so noisy, paralyze her face. You’re a complainer who hates solutions,” Hoseok watched while Yoongi gingerly stretched one of the girl’s arms out so it was hanging off the furniture.
Yoongi would go on and on about how he was capturing ‘yearning’, but to a vampire (and former buccaneer) who stole art for value, the girl was being positioned to get fucked against the ottoman. Pushing a hand through his hair, Hoseok snorted to himself. Now that he had a sufficient, consistent nutrient source, he could visit the girls at the cabaret again. It had been far too long since a woman had been under him and his mercy. 
“To paralyze the face would make the subject unworthy of being painted,” Yoongi replied plainly, like it was a practiced response, and with emphasis on his words the artist ever so slightly turned the girl’s head with a loose grip on her jaw. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and pretty crystalline tears gathered in her eyelashes, eyeliner smudging perfectly. It was like Yoongi’s lucky day. 
“You’re an odd–”
“Hoseok. Let Yoongi be done with it so she can leave,” Seokjin cut Hoseok off before he could start a cock fight. Jimin was already shivering with excitement at the idea of a dramatic altercation, and Seokjin caught it before he’d have to discipline him again. 
“You’re an odd immortal,” Hoseok ignored Seokjin, though physically, he retreated. That was good enough for Seokjin, who kept one eye on the younger vampire returning to his rum and billiard’s game. 
All the while, Y/N locked herself away in her own head. Perhaps, if she could reach some kind of meditative state, she could compartmentalize. The best she could do was focus on keeping her eyes shut so she wouldn’t have to look at the vampires for a second longer, and the sensation of tears dripping down her cheeks. 
“Are you resurrecting your proclivity for lewd portraiture, Yoongi?” Namjoon commented, straightening up at the sweet scent of hopeless tears, greedily soaking up the sight across the room. “That original collection of yours remains your finest work.” 
From where he was, he could see the arch of the girl’s back jutting her hips backwards, and in consequence, and the fleshy curves of her ass cheeks were just exposed enough to reveal lace between her legs. Namjoon, with amusement, knew that if he got just a little closer, he’d be able to smell her. 
“I wouldn’t coin that as lewd, Namjoon, just sloppy and lacking all of Yoongi’s former risk. It must have been some time since you have lain with a woman,” Jeongguk disagreed, aware that he was toeing a very thin line between a cold scoff from the elder vampire or experiencing his molten wrath. 
Namjoon, in a rare moment of mercy, hardened his expression, tearing his gaze from the apex of the acolyte’s thighs. The leverage that Jeongguk caught a perverted thought coming from Namjoon was enough, apparently. On the other hand, the youngest vampire was enjoying a morsel of information he pried out of the girl’s mind seconds prior all to himself, just for that moment: the acolyte did not mirror dirty thoughts that the coven was having. In fact, the more Jeongguk sifted through her memories, he realized with delight that she didn’t know the feeling of her own arousal– yet. Maybe Yoongi had observed that, keenly taking it upon himself to milk her confused, humiliated response. 
“Give Yoongi a month. He’ll have that acolyte stripped down completely and posing face down, ass up by then.”
Electric, enticing fear zapped through Y/N at the blithe, unflinching prediction that came from Seokjin out of the blue, and the scent of it triggered a heavy spill of lust to settle over the room. Jeongguk could feel it, and he knew his elders did too– though Seokjin was the picture of nonchalance. Jeongguk couldn’t think of a time when Seokjin preoccupied himself with pursuits of the flesh over the last century, therefore hearing him speak with plain vulgarity was jarring. 
“I’ll have to sit in on that session,” Jimin purred, hanging up the intercom with a grin. By then, he was aggravated with his infernal top, letting it fall from his elbows and pool to the floor in a heap.
In a flash, he was behind Yoongi, eyes sweeping over the charcoal sketch the elder vampire was working on. Yoongi’s hand moved so quickly across the paper, it was almost impossible to track. In fact, Yoongi had already sketched four different versions of the scene in front of him and used up an entire box of charcoal. Yoongi, with aggravated sigh, set his sketchbook down and tossed the empty box of charcoal across the room and into the roaring fire. Jimin, slyly, leafed through the sketches, comparing each to the actual model, a flirtatious impressed hum leaving his chest. 
“You should see these, dove. If you had wings, they’d be broken…” Jimin caught her eye, his posture stiffening at the tear her teeth made into her lower lip. He knew she was incredibly frightened, though he couldn’t help it, he wanted to up the intensity; the reward was far too tempting. Turning on the charm again, Jimin started to stalk towards her with one hand on his belt. 
“N-no!” Y/N whimpered pathetically, immediately thinking the worst when Jimin began to get closer. No matter how hard she tried to squeeze her thighs together, she couldn’t curl in on herself like she wanted to. “Oh, please–”
“‘If you had wings, they’d be broken’. God, is that how you made your fortune in theater and movies?”
“Hoseok, you still haven’t read Jimin’s plays? Or seen one of his films at the cinema?” Jeongguk spoke through chortles, really starting to feel the nourishment of the acolyte’s blood in his body. He felt alive again. 
“Usually sleep through ‘em, or I’m getting blow–”
“Yoongi, release her from Paralysis if you’re finished. Hoseok, head to the cabaret if you wish to keep drinking and whoring,” Seokjin finally moved away from the fire, his expensive loafers clicking against the floors. 
Jimin was only a few feet from Y/N, the vampire half-clothed and eager to rile her up a bit more before Seokjin could spoil the fun. To Jimin’s surprise, however, Y/N’s fear spiked acutely when Seokjin appeared, the eldest vampire kneeling beside her and blocking her view of him. With Seokjin so close, so suddenly, and fearing his status, Y/N’s tears came faster. 
“Please, just please! I just want to go upstairs! I d-don’t– I don’t want to…” Y/N broke down, and with Seokjin’s request to lift Paralysis, Yoongi watched as his power left her and the girl began to shake like a newborn fawn. Seokjin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Master S-seokjin, please, I want mmph–!”
Seokjin pressed his palm over the young acolyte’s mouth, half to shut her up, half to somewhat cover up the scent of her bloody lip. It was a charged situation– one he had complete control over, of course– but keeping the peace was important to Seokjin. 
It was abhorrent to him that he needed that nuisance of a little girl, one causing so much unrest, as he scanned the ruined makeup running down her cheeks. Though, the vitality thrumming through him and the rest of the coven was undeniable, thanks to her. Seokjin was about to call for the acolyte’s maids, lips dropping open, when she made things infinitely more dangerous. 
Since she had never been paralyzed by Yoongi, her body didn’t know how to come down from his influence. With her desperate pent up energy, unable to engage in fight or flight, once her shivering dissolved, Y/N’s limbs began jerking. With Seokjin’s hand still over her mouth, her back arched in order to get air to her crushed diaphragm, and instinctively, her thighs snapped shut. 
However, something unexpected struck through her when her legs pressed together, something she could only describe as warm and aching, and it caught her so off-guard that a strangled, confused moan left her lips and was muffled against Seokjin’s palm. A primal and unfamiliar urge had her wanting to chase that feeling, Seokjin’s surprised, wide eyes in front of her had the throb return, if not for a second– her hips squirming against the ottoman eagerly.
Studying him through watery eyes, Y/N felt like she needed to light a candle to Seokjin’s beauty, the jitteriness that came with Yoongi releasing her from paralysis causing her to seek out stability. Her index finger curled around Seokjin’s blazer cuff as if to anchor herself. It felt like minutes, but it was likely seconds, where every vampire in the room froze completely, not a whisper of sound following her muffled mew.
“Astonishing,” Taehyung broke the silence, setting his newspaper down and getting to his feet. Things took an interesting turn, for once. 
“Do not,” Seokjin commanded, but a breath though still firm. Y/N fidgeted, attempting to moisten her dry lips but only managing to give Seokjin’s palm an embarrassing kitten lick– which had him recoiling and pressing his hand more harshly against her face. “Control yourself, acolyte.”
Y/N didn’t know what that meant. Sure, the raw fear was still there, vehement hate flooding her body when Taehyung entered her line of sight, but the seductive drag of his fingertip tracing over her fragile shoulder blade elicited another unsure whimper.
“P-puh-mm,” Y/N switched to pleading again, wanting to jump off the great cliff where the mansion was settled beside more than ever. Seokjin’s gaze hardened, his throat bobbing. 
“Seokjin, come on. Look at her!” Hoseok was positively delighted, spotting arousal pulsing between her legs from miles away– not to mention smelling it. “Moaning and crying like a bitch in heat.”
“Enough,” Seokjin barked, though the demand was strangled.
Do not speak a word.
The eldest vampire’s voice cut through the fog in Y/N’s head urgently, and at once, he removed his hand from her face. With absence, he wiped the blood from her torn lip on his pristine pant leg, Y/N breathing heavily from her mouth now that it was free.
One word from you and I’ll leave you here with the young ones.
That was a dark enough threat from Y/N, though with mortification, she thinly whined at the thought of Seokjin making good on his promise– mistake. Bonelessly, she started to lift her torso from the ottoman, her skin hot and tacky, all while each vampire in the room tracked her every movement.
“Is she going to get sick?” Yoongi remarked with disgust, tucking his sketchbook away. He was decidedly ready to paint; and yes, it would be something to toy with the flustered acolyte, but capturing her misery would end up being more erotic to him.
“She doesn’t know what she’s feeling,” Jeongguk revealed blandly, smugly, leaning one of his trim hips against the billiards table. “She wants– probably you, Seokjin, to touch her, but she’s too dim to know that.”
“So all of that ‘purity’ propaganda about Sanctuary acolytes is true? They’re clueless virgins?” Hoseok had to swallow a great laugh, almost pitying the mortals.
“Just like the old days… Most girls had not the slightest idea what happened in the bedroom,” Jimin contributed to the conversation, an unsettling edge to his voice that had Y/N sniffling. 
Jeongguk began to fish around in her head more intensely, but Y/N felt her cheeks grow hot while her thighs squeezed together in pulses. Reading the acolyte’s thoughts, he hummed wickedly at the girl wondering what was so bad about being compared to the Virgin– the revered mother the Sanctuary worshipped. 
“She’s untouched,” Jeongguk revealed, Hoseok’s interest piquing sevenfold. Eyes glowing, Hoseok was standing beside Taehyung in a flash, a forearm resting on the younger vampire’s shoulder. Venom was flooding Hoseok’s mouth as soon as he caught a whiff of the wetness beginning to seep into the acolyte’s underwear, and Taehyung was thinking about all of the ways he could break her. 
Again, Y/N had no idea what the vampires were talking about. Nor did she know what was happening to her body, her skin sweaty and hyper-sensitive, and she couldn’t bear to look away from Seokjin. He looked like he was thinking very hard, red eyes sweeping over her body struggling to release what was building up inside of her. It took every ounce of strength she had left, but Y/N managed to struggle off of the ottoman, rocking backwards on her bare heels to a kneeling position. All the while, the finger curled around Seokjin’s jacket turned into a fistful of desperate fabric, the eldest vampire’s breath catching in shock over her sheer audacity.
“Help, it h-hurts,” Y/N whispered, throat dry. Beginning to come to the conclusion that coming down from Yoongi’s paralysis was what was making her feel so raw with nerves, she tried to plead with Seokjin despite his threat to leave her with the young vampires– the ones looking at her like she was dessert. “Master Seokj-jin, please, I want to–”
“Fuck?” Hoseok cut the acolyte off helpfully, filling in the blank that she was unaware existed. Things were spiraling out of control, and Hoseok was so entertained by Seokjin’s patience hanging by a thread that he decided to take things up a notch– perhaps finding out if he could elicit more of her slick to ruin her underwear. “A virgin begging for cock like a slut. Soaked pussy just from a few simple touches and words.”
The foreign, husky words from Hoseok had Y/N’s pulse quickening, humiliation licking her skin. To add to her mortification, she felt something wet rolling down one of her thighs, and when she looked down between her legs, she squeaked in alarm. With her free hand, shakily, her fingers swiped through the slick thinking it was sweat, but when she brought her hand up to take a closer look at filmy strings coating her digits, all hell broke loose. Seokjin cursed, sending out seven different mental commands– with additional forceful suggestions for staff that was still working– but even that wasn’t enough, so with a borderline bone-crushing embrace, Y/N was caged in his arms and as far away from the youngest vampires as possible. Jeongguk, Taehyung, and Jimin stared hungrily at the girl, trembling like a lamb, edible. 
“Hoseok, I told you if you wanted to fuck like a rutting animal, go see your whores,” Seokjin’s voice was loud, furious, and Y/N couldn’t breathe in his arms. Despite her acute fear and dislike for Seokjin, Y/N’s body reacted on its own, pressing backwards against his strong chest for protection. “Leave, Hoseok. Yoongi, this is your doing and there will be consequences. Remove the fledglings from the room. Go.”
There was no space to argue with Seokjin. His covenmates hadn’t seen Seokjin so enraged, not for decades, and before Jimin could pout and add fuel to the flames (or sink his teeth into the delicious acolyte), he was torn from the room with Yoongi’s grip around his wrist. One by one, in a split second, Yoongi collected the youngest vampires, and Hoseok was long out the door with the cabaret set as his destination. 
Once the immediate threats were gone, Seokjin all but shoved Y/N out of his reach, the girl caught by someone else before she could hit the floor. Nearly collapsing into his weight completely, leather gloves slipping over her dewy shoulders, Y/N at least knew who was touching her this time. That time, too, she realized she didn’t mind Namjoon touching her. After a prolonged period of time absorbed with Seokjin’s presence, Y/N was ashamed to admit that Namjoon could steal it effortlessly. Namjoon, like Seokjin, was infuriated; Y/N could tell by the way his jaw clenched dangerously. 
“Get her out of my sight before I do something I’ll regret,” Seokjin spoke through his teeth, but the volume of his demand was deadly quiet. The sound of it had a tingle rolling down Y/N’s spine, her skull still throbbing from Jeongguk sifting through her past, and Y/N thought that she might faint again. “Exercise restraint, Namjoon-ah.”
Surprise flickered in Namjoon’s eyes. Seokjin, normally, would have had him using Pain Illusion on the acolyte for her little stunt– even if she couldn’t help it. 
“Hyung?”
“I have calls to make. Take her upstairs,” Seokjin pushed a hand through his short choppy bangs, and he disappeared like he never was there in the first place.
Y/N winced when Namjoon tightened his hold on her with purpose, his expression turning rock-solid. The throb between her legs didn’t grow any weaker. Namjoon’s nostrils flaring, Y/N’s fear returned when a cold grin spread across the vampire’s face, his sharp fangs on display. However, if it weren’t for the fangs, Namjoon had one of the loveliest smiles in the world, and that broke Y/N’s heart, distantly. The vampire cocked his head and misread her train of thought.
“You’re absolutely terrified of me, aren’t you?”
Y/N’s head snapped up to make eye contact when Namjoon spoke, realizing her attention was lingering on the shape of his lips. Going rigid when the vampire stooped low, he got a firm hold of her naked calves. With one swift movement, Y/N was hoisted into the air and slung over Namjoon’s bulky shoulder. The immortal speed made her nauseous, a strangled sound coming from the back of her throat, one gloved hand squeezing the arm slung over his opposite shoulder, and the other cupped over the sensitive backs of her knees. Not allowing her to recover at all, Namjoon had the girl inside of her bedroom before she could take a breath. 
“Do not make me ask again, woman,” Namjoon cruelly dropped the girl from his hold only to pin her to a nearby wall by her hip. She groaned, Namjoon noting that if he applied just the slightest additional force, he could shatter her hip bone. 
“I need to s-sit down… where is N-nadia?” Y/N managed to get out, at war with how to answer him and praying furiously for someone to save her. She was having a primordial reaction to everything that had happened, and it was sapping the energy out of her. Namjoon snatched up one of her forearms in annoyance, the limb like a twig under his leather gloves. “No! Ow, no, I mean y-yes!”
Y/N could not take it anymore. She was hot, cold, contorting in pain and shivering with something else. She offered the truth. Sure, she was scared, but there was something else that was nameless to her. Was it… curiosity she felt?
“No? Let me offer you some advice,” Namjoon tsked, briefly wishing he could look into her mind like Jeongguk. “Don’t lie like that to Seokjin. Next time, he’ll have me skewer you.”
Y/N flinched, remembering the sword Namjoon had strapped to his back, and the fact that he was once commissioned to cut people down. His smile returned, scenting the dread pressing down on her. 
“See? Though, didn’t the butler tell you not to reveal your fear?” Namjoon ignored the venom that was pooling on his tongue, swallowing it quickly so he could keep up the taunts. Seokjin didn’t want to punish the human, but Namjoon wanted to. “Now we know what fear does to you.”
The girl was blinking at him, which had the immortal pausing. She was fixated on his mouth again, which caused a snarl to rip from behind his teeth. 
“What are you looking at? Are you so consumed by lust that your brain has melted?” Namjoon paired his words with a vicious yank of her arm, the hand on her hip moving to pinch her jaw. The back of her head hit the wall, Y/N crying out and completely powerless to self-preserve. “Tell me what you were staring at.”
“I don’t want to.”
Namjoon, in all his years of dealing with acolytes, had never encountered such a stubborn one. It had something dark possessing him, the thrum of her frightened pulse a stark contrast to the song her body was singing. Then, when he realized how close he had brought her wrist to his face, Namjoon caught the acolyte’s arousal still clinging to her fingers and acted on a baser desire that he hadn’t experienced in centuries. With one last pull, the acolyte’s fingers were in Namjoon’s mouth, the girl squealing in surprise.
“What are you doing?! That’s d-dirty,” Y/N cried, Namjoon’s wet tongue curling around her digits, his gaze still menacing and unfeeling. She dissolved on his palate, and with a quiet groan, Namjoon realized that her arousal tasted just as good as her blood. “I, hngh–”
Y/N focused back on Namjoon’s lips, which is what got her in that situation in the first place. Pursed around her soaked digits, she felt one of his fangs scrape against her index finger, and she pictured his smile in her mind again; the polar opposite to the demonic expression he was wearing at that moment. Perhaps, if she told him what she was looking at, he’d finally leave her alone. 
“Please! I was just admiring your smile!”
Whatever Namjoon was expecting the acolyte to say with her fingers nearly down his throat, it wasn’t that. Almost as if she dumped water over him, Namjoon’s eyes glazed over, his grip growing just weak enough for Y/N to pull her hand away from his mouth and fangs. Catching her breath, Y/N used his distraction to slip away, ducking under his arm. She knew that she wouldn’t get very far; indeed, Namjoon was quick to grab her by the back of her dress, the material tearing slightly with the force. 
“What did you just say to me?” Namjoon, for the first time to Y/N’s ears, spoke softly. The vampire, appearing to be unseeing, scanned her face, and Y/N almost got the feeling that he was seeing someone else in front of him. 
“I-I mean, you scare me, but when you, um. Your smile? It’s–” Y/N gulped, relieved that whatever was making her body produce what Namjoon had sucked off of her fingers was beginning to subside, pure exhaustion and defeat gripping her instead. “Beautiful. It’s beautiful, makes you less s-scary. I’m sorry if that offends you! Master Namjoon, but please, can you let me go?”
Y/N’s pleas barely had effort behind them. Bone-deep fatigue and confusion had her bedroom fading in and out of view, and all she desired was the down quilt on her bed to sink into. Soaking in her response, Namjoon released the girl, ancient memories coming back to him and making him promptly turn on his heel. He needed to come to his senses– the dim acolyte was not the woman in those memories, no matter that those precise words had only been spoken to him only once before, under very different circumstances. He was at the door before the human could collapse onto her bed, still aroused and uncertain. 
“One more piece of advice, acolyte,” Namjoon, still in the same, low tone, spoke. “Rather, a warning.”
A muffled, sad little moan came from Y/N, who was turned away on her side. She hadn’t even bothered to clean herself up, ignoring the uncomfortable sensation of the air hitting the damper areas of her body and the dull agony of her fresh wounds. 
“Innocence is a dangerous thing to possess around a vampire. Wise up, or you’ll be swallowed whole.”
Y/N was sick of hearing things she didn’t understand paired with threats, so she offered no verbal acknowledgement to his stupid advice. Not that Namjoon stuck around, the door shutting and leaving Y/N finally, finally alone. 
Her elation over that fact was temporary. A metal tinkling sound coming from where Namjoon was just standing had her eyebrows furrowing, something heavy sliding into place resolutely. That was when Y/N bolted upright with horror, the movement opening the punctures created by Seokjin’s earlier bite. 
Namjoon had locked her into the bedroom from the outside. 
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“You reek of cum,” Taehyung, irritated that the elder strolling into the office was late, unbathed, and had a lace bralette hanging out of his suit pants. Taehyung, bitter venom filling his mouth, stuffed his pocket watch back into the pocket of his suit vest. “Abhorrent.”
“No showers at the cabaret. Let’s get this over with,” Hoseok shrugged, not as eager to prolong a dramatic meeting of the minds after he had fucked his way through the showgirls all night. 
“Sit down. I’ll make this brief,” Seokjin was all business. He spent the better part of his morning jumping down Yoongi’s throat, the artist still literally licking his wounds– tongue swiping over a bloodied– thanks to the acolyte– and torn lip. 
“Where’s Namjoon?” Hoseok interrupted Seokjin, realizing the immortal that filled any room with negative energy was absent. “You’re agonizing over my lateness, Taehyung, but not his?”
“Namjoon-ah and I will talk after,” Seokjin’s temple throbbed, using a handkerchief to clean the blood from one of his rings that cut into Yoongi’s lip. 
It was a gloomy, dark morning. The sun had barely even risen, so the low sources of lighting in the already moody office came from lit sconces and the fireplace. Jeongguk, by the window, tracked droplets of water coasting down the glass plane. With immortal eyes, he could detect the warps and imperfections in the hundred year old glass. It was far more entertaining than getting chewed up by Seokjin. Absently, the youngest vampire rolled up the sleeves of his cream colored sweater, caught off guard by the healthy caramel glow to his skin in contrast. He must have been walking around like a specter for too long, without a good donor. 
“Yoongi has been told to keep his work to his bedroom. From now on, if he wishes to have the acolyte model, it will be contained to that space,” Seokjin began, giving Yoongi a scathing glare. Yoongi’s mind was elsewhere, the front of his button down stained with blood and muted pigments of paint. 
“Well, that doesn’t seem so bad, hm? You aren’t going soft, are you, Seokjin?” Jimin, a touch tipsy from the night before and dressed in nothing but a patterned silk robe, was leafing through a first-edition copy of one of his early plays– something Hoseok collected years ago, apparently. “Hoseok! Where did you get this? You don’t even have the decency to read my tragedies, but you are comfortable stealing valuable copies?”
“Ah. That was from some gout-ridden aristocrat’s collection when we docked in Jamaica–”
“Last night will not be repeated,” Seokjin cut through the idle, infuriating chit-chat, Taehyung appearing just as relieved that the eldest was moving things along in a timely manner. “I will not allow this coven to be reduced to a pack of animals simply because of a human. I do not care if she is a tempting muse to you, an entertaining plaything, or a virgin to defile. No one is to touch the girl unless to feed.”
The silence would be considered unsettling by anybody, mortal or otherwise. Yoongi was the only one who wasn’t absolutely bewildered by the strictness of Seokjin’s order, considering he had already been briefed during his beat down. Normally, the head of the coven would let the six younger vampires toy with their acolytes as they pleased, indifferent– but not that time around.
“How are we to feed without touching her, Seokjin? Are we koi in your royal garden, waiting for you to decide when our next meal is? You had the first bite. Before now, you didn’t take issue with us having our share of fun with the acolytes,” Taehyung frowned, hands in the pockets of his suit curling into fists. “Perhaps Seokjin has decided to return to how we fed when I first joined the coven,” Jeongguk offered softly, Seokjin nodding in the slightest. A dismayed harrumph came from Jimin, who was rolling his eyes and pulling a mother-of-pearl comb through his raven hair. 
 Jeongguk began to remember his early days as an immortal, head tilted, and tried to flick through Seokjin’s head in curiosity. He was met with the usual iron wall that surrounded it. Seokjin raised a manicured brow, Jeongguk’s gaze returning to the window. 
“So… That’s all well and good. But why are there layers to this? Yoongi can arrange her into Kama Sutra positions but we aren’t to touch her point blank?” Hoseok wasn’t exactly broken up over the fact that he wasn’t to touch the acolyte, just annoyed with the special exceptions. 
“You are being dull on purpose,” Seokjin sang blandly, leaning back in his leather chair. “I meant none of you are to engage in anything sexual with her. Fledglings– and immortals with no self control, such as yourself, Hoseok– do not do well entangling themselves with acolytes such as… Y/N.”
“Such as ‘Y/N’? Elaborate?” Taehyung politely requested, leaning against the door of the office. His office, really, the one he built for his summer holidays a century ago, he noted with mild bitterness, smoothing out his tweed suit with precise pats. At wit’s end, Seokjin put his head in his hands, so exasperated he cursed in his ancient native tongue. 
“Her innocence and purity draws you in like a moth to a flame, I realize that, but I’m tired of applying for new acolytes. Two things are of greater importance that deserve my attention. First, I refuse to let you all revert yourselves into baser creatures thus tarnishing our reputation, which directly affects the second pressing matter. This week, the gala we are hosting with Berwind. Everything has to go smoothly.”
“... So, we can touch her. Just not–”
“Spare me, Hoseok,” Seokjin’s voice was hoarse, strained, and he had dealt with more tumor-inducing conversations in the past 24 hours than he had in decades. “Push her around if you want, I don’t give a shit. Do not try to seduce her.”
“But she thinks we’re all so handsome,” Jeongguk murmured, half amused, half kicking the hornet’s nest. “That’s like asking us to walk around with satchels over our heads.”
“All humans think we’re handsome,” Jimin countered, bored. He’d find it an insult worthy of death if the girl didn’t revere his beauty. 
“Stop whining and do as I say. You all have work to do before the gala. Taehyung, have Edmund fetch Namjoon-ah,” Seokjin snapped, the scent of mortals filling the room and making him cover his nose and mouth with a delicate palm to block it. 
“Alright, ‘boss’. Let’s see how long these new rules last,” Hoseok let his fangs drip with venom. He despised being ordered around, but the benefits of remaining in the coven and under Seokjin’s protection outweighed the cons. Seokjin usually came around, especially once the human would begin to get on Seokjin’s bad side. “I’m taking a bath until dinner.”
“That means he’ll be piss drunk again,” Jeongguk pointed out, once Hoseok had ditched the room, and Yoongi slowly rose from his seat. 
Yoongi had been fiddling with a filbert paint brush during the entire conversation, mind solely focused on the painting he had spent the whole night working on. As he began to excuse himself from the room, Jimin caught a hold of the tail of Yoongi’s untucked button down. Often, he’d let Jimin watch him paint; Jimin wrote screenplays while Yoongi would stretch canvases in peaceful silence. Yoongi, paying no mind to his younger covenmate, used the filbert brush to pin up his shoulder-length paint-caked locks with a fledgling anchored to the back of his shirt.
The artist was rather grateful Seokjin hadn’t torn into him as much as he could have– Yoongi chalked it up to good behavior and keeping to himself for the better half of the last century. Sure, he was agitated that Seokjin warned him to keep the Paralysis to a minimum, which was a nuisance, but perhaps it would be an artistic challenge for him. With a melodic hum, Yoongi licked the last of the blood off of his lips, eyes glowing when he and Jimin both left the office quietly. 
Though, Jimin was quiet for other reasons. Like Hoseok, Jimin was a spiteful vampire. The young acolyte already proved to be the brightest spark of entertainment he had seen from humanity since Old Hollywood, the excessive comparison floating around in Jimin’s lofty mind making Jeongguk dread the upcoming few days. With that, Taehyung and Jeongguk considered themselves dismissed, Seokjin only getting a moment to recover from the theatrics before launching into somewhat of a show himself. 
“Namjoon-ah, come in, please,” Seokjin, hand still dragging over his face, hadn’t the slightest explanation for Namjoon’s lapse in judgement the previous night. The sting of betrayal from somebody who quite literally died for loyalty, sacrificing his very soul, was so strong it had even Seokjin’s chest tightening. 
The doors swung open, Namjoon’s powerful strides bringing him into the office in less than three steps. Unfortunately, the human girl that was ushered into the room behind her had Namjoon freezing, carmine eyes narrowing. 
Y/N, who had been scrubbed utterly raw by her maids that morning as per Seokjin’s request, was currently entirely under Seokjin’s influence. From the moment her eyes opened at dawn, Seokjin could sense her panic from the bedroom above her– and to prevent any further nonsense, he mentally Compelled her to be nothing but his temporary puppet. Namjoon, as if he sensed he’d be in some hot water that morning, had his sword strapped to his broad back, his large gloved hands settling over the leather belt strapped around his hips. 
“Hyung. I felt you were too lenient on her,” Namjoon began, the picture of confidence. It elicited a low chuckle from Seokjin, torn between being too fond of Namjoon and ready to exact his punishment without mercy. 
“Okay, little acolyte. You can sit now,” Seokjin released Y/N from his spell only after she absently perched on a seat on the opposite side of the mahogany desk. Sucking in a deep breath, he waited for the girl to start babbling stupidly. 
“OH! You,” Y/N’s fingernails cut into the upholstered chair she sagged into, one hand shooting up to the back of her neck urgently, her outrage focused on her former mental captor. If Jeongguk’s power crushed her skull, and Jimin’s bruised her marrow; Seokjin melted her very spinal cord. 
“You too, Namjoon-ah, sit.”
Namjoon’s jaw worked, Seokjin staring at him through his dark curtain of eyelashes and waiting for him to ultimately obey. He always did. 
“I did what I thought had to be done. She’s completely unharmed,” Namjoon impulsively came up with a half-baked excuse, Seokjin pausing with a cocked head in his palms to remember that not so long ago, Namjoon was one of the fledglings too. 
“What!? Not true! Y-you! He! He locked me into the room!” Y/N exploded, pointing angrily at Namjoon like an unruly child. 
“I know.”
“You’re angry I locked her in? We do that to all of the acolytes,” Namjoon scoffed, suddenly wishing he had just shown the human to her early grave when she cursed at him under her breath. 
“I’m angry that you went over my head. This is unlike you, Namjoon-ah,” Seokjin projected the scene of Namjoon taking the acolyte’s soaked fingers into his mouth into his mind, from Namjoon’s very own perspective. Namjoon swore, thinking Jeongguk deserved his neck wrung for daring to use his maddening mind-reading on him. 
“Excuse me. Did you just say you lock in all of the acolytes?” Y/N spluttered, body sagging into the chair even further when she realized Seokjin didn’t care she was imprisoned overnight. She was ignored by both vampires coldly.
“You’re going to punish me.”
“No.”
“No?” Namjoon leaned back in his seat, settling an ankle over the opposite knee, again drilling holes into the side of the human woman’s face with a glare. None of the arousal that clung to her the night before was evident, just a cocktail of edginess and despair. “Then what, Seokjin? I’ve proved my loyalty. Perhaps I had too much to drink.”
“You’ve proved your loyalty,” Seokjin repeated in agreement, rising from his seat with his hands clasped behind his back. “Which is why I’m giving you a new task. Around the clock.”
“Okay,” Namjoon drew out the syllables of his response, Y/N wiggling in her seat like she wanted to bolt. Why was she even there? When Namjoon thought he knew Seokjin’s every move, he was proven otherwise time and time again. It must have been instinctual for an eternal crown prince to keep his subjects on their toes.
“The gala we’re hosting for Edmund Berwind is just the first of many this winter,” Seokjin began to slowly pace around the intimidatingly masculine office, Y/N comparing him to a lethal black snake circling its next meal. “Last night aside. Besides myself, Namjoon-ah, you hold the most power in the coven. This winter I have to play politics and I will not have time to make sure this acolyte stays alive in order to sustain us.”
Y/N shuddered, not needing to be a vampire to feel the electric tension steadily climbing to a fever pitch. Namjoon, pearly dust coating his tongue from grinding his teeth so intensely, fiddled with the hilt of his sword, eyes liquid red. 
“What do you need from me, hyung?” Namjoon stared at Seokjin’s back, turned to him and the acolyte by a large bay window. Namjoon wondered if Seokjin was taking any pleasure in drawing things out. 
“Namjoon-ah. Since you seem to take a particular interest in the little girl, I imagine that to a vampire with weaker restraint, she’s a duck sitting in a pot of potatoes and leeks,” Seokjin began, head turning slightly so Y/N could gape at his flawless side profile– his lips, nose, and long lashes were highlighted by early morning light. 
“Particular interest–?”
“You’re to be her bodyguard.”
Again, there was a ghostly silence, one that Seokjin relished in. The girl was still somewhat loopy from him controlling her all morning, but Namjoon’s outright shock had Seokjin humming. 
“Bodyguard? Seokjin hyung, you know I respect you. Jeongguk was a former bodyguard. He is more suited for the job. I do not want to be near this woman,” Namjoon protested sharply, unaware that that was the precise reason Seokjin selected playing bodyguard as punishment for Namjoon. Y/N, in similar fashion, recoiled and clutched her roiling gut. 
“Jeongguk is the youngest fledgling,” Seokjin quickly replied, as if Namjoon was daft to even suggest such a thing. “Jeongguk also has the mind of a stunted teenager. He has tenderness that lingers. He cannot be tasked with something like this, not yet. You are to watch the acolyte and make sure she is not only protected from our guests, but the rest of the coven as well.”
“This is a test.”
“This is a warning, Namjoon!” Seokjin hissed, spinning around. “Remember yourself. Wake up, and do your job. Give me her bedroom key.”
Seokjin, in a blur, was standing above Namjoon, a palm dangling in front of the younger’s face. Namjoon’s fangs flashed, digging around in the pocket of his slacks, and offered up a gilded skeleton key with grave reluctance– almost like it was his death sentence. Smart enough to realize that she had absolutely no irons in the fire to protest, Y/N numbly watched Seokjin fashion a necklace for Namjoon out of a fine spool of wire produced from the desk, one with the key to her bedroom dangling as its grand pendant. Namjoon, still as ever, held his breath when Seokjin dropped the necklace over his head. 
“Take her to the Sanctuary to pick out acolytes for Saturday evening. Bring Jeongguk to weed out the weak of mind,” Seokjin upped the ante by sending Namjoon on an errand with the acolyte, the addition of Jeongguk monitoring his thoughts no doubt sending Namjoon into murderous rage. “Keep your hands to yourself and your mouth shut, acolyte. Go.”
Dismissing the two, Namjoon’s power crackling like electricity over his knuckles, Seokjin leaned a hip on the desk, plucking up the landline receiver. Y/N’s mouth was agape at the mention of the Sanctuary– the run-down Gothic cathedral a place she never knew she could miss, but did, desperately. 
While processing the possibility that she might get to see her friends once more, even if it was just to give them a proper goodbye, Y/N was yanked upwards by the back of her sweater. Namjoon had a fistful of her wool collar in his glove-clad fist, the vampire so enraged by his newly appointed ‘job’ that he didn’t even have words of malice in his vocabulary to spit back at Seokjin that could encapsulate it. 
“I can walk,” Y/N righted herself with a scoff, shockingly cognizant despite everything that had already happened the first hour she was awake. Namjoon let go of her sweater, his striking face twisted up in disgust, tearing from the office like his heels were on fire. 
Y/N adjusted the fit of her sweater, swallowing down her trepidation. Many things became clear to her, as she eyed Seokjin speaking to someone on the phone in a lilting foreign language. First and foremost, she had just become the most well-protected acolyte in the nation with Namjoon as her bodyguard. Second, Seokjin had not only inadvertently confirmed how necessary her well-being and survival was to not only the entire coven, but to himself as well. Y/N accepted that fear would always be there, and she’d endure moments of humiliation like she had the night prior. She’d experience pain and psychological torment. But she’d survive. 
“아니, 창덕궁은 아니고–” Seokjin’s eyes flashed, angry that the acolyte was gawking at him like a dolt and not following her newly appointed bodyguard. He lowered the phone from his lips slightly, snarling a threat. “Get going, little girl, before I bite you again.”
Scowling, Y/N cupped a palm over the punctures he left in her neck, barely covered by the cut of her sweater’s collar. The vampire was still barking into the phone when one of the staff members began to shut the office doors behind Y/N, his voice carrying into the hall.
“내 생각에는 경복궁이 우리의 필요에 더 잘 맞을 것 같아요–”
The grand wooden doors cut off Seokjin’s dulcet tones effectively with a hollow clang, and paired with it, three maids surrounded her in a flurry of winter hats and coats to bundle her up. 
“Oh, Nadia–” Y/N gasped, a friendly face appearing before her at long last. Her maid fastened a pair of fur earmuffs over Y/N’s head securely. “Please tell me you’ll be coming along on this errand!”
“Afraid not, Miss. Typically, I would join you, but with the gala preparations this week, I must send you with a list to take to the market. The masters will accompany you on the way to the Sanctuary,” Nadia gestured to the large ballroom overlooking the sea, dozens of staff members on their hands and knees scrubbing the marble floors. “You’ll have a merry time at the market this time of year, Miss. I’m sure the masters will treat you to a hot drink.”
Y/N thought diamonds raining from the sky seemed more likely than Namjoon or Jeongguk willingly purchasing her a treat, the latter of the two vampires unfortunately coming into her view when Nadia led her to the mansion’s front door. Y/N hadn’t seen the youngest immortal since Yoongi escorted him from the billiard’s room the night prior. Y/N’s heart was doing something funny in her chest at the sight of him, like it was taking dips and tumbles in the cavity, Jeongguk’s cream-colored sweater giving the vampire an almost innocent appearance. 
“Nadia, don’t you have a scarf for the acolyte?” Jeongguk ignored the desperate desire to use Telepathy on Y/N, who was reluctantly waddling over to him with a pout on her small mouth. “It’s important for human women to keep their thyroid warm in the winter.”
Y/N coughed back an incredulous laugh, not believing for a single second that Jeongguk truly gave a rat’s ass about her thyroid. If anything, the comment gave her the creeps, shattering the angelic image he was falsely projecting. 
“Yes Master Jeongguk, I have this cashmere–”
“Give it to me, Nadia,” Jeongguk cut the maid off, crooking a finger at Y/N and beckoning her forward. He snatched an oversized scarf from Nadia with graceful finesse, wrapping the material around his palms.
Y/N was at the point, so early in the morning and already tired of games, that she simply slouched her way to the captor summoning her without putting up a fight. Besides, Namjoon was probably around the corner, and Y/N knew she was pretty much invincible with him as her ‘bodyguard’. She could endure some teasing from Jeongguk, she told herself, as she anxiously focused on the faint scar on one of his cheeks. 
“Here you go,” Jeongguk was murmuring pleasantly, beginning to wind the scarf around Y/N’s neck. While stiff, she maintained her composure, not wanting Jeongguk to get the best of her when he started tucking the ends of the scarf into her coat’s collar. “All bundled up, there you go.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
Y/N’s cheeks burned, sincere words coming from Jeongguk tainted by a condescending cadence. Without thinking, she brushed his knuckles away from her jawline, Jeongguk snickering and limply dropping his hand to his side. 
“Developing an attitude problem now that you’ve become Seokjin’s princess?” Jeongguk stooped, his large doe eyes sparkling with youthful mischief. It made Y/N’s heart act up again. “Even Namjoon’s to be waiting on your hand and foot. Pretty nice setup, huh?”
“Isn’t it too early for this?” Y/N squinted, backing up several paces so Jeongguk’s sweet breath wasn’t wafting over her face anymore. “Sure, I have an attitude. Wouldn’t you?”
“You know, you’d make a fairly interesting immortal,” Jeongguk crossed his arms over his chest, broad back resting against a solid pillar by the front door. Y/N couldn’t hear it, but Namjoon was tearing up a training room in the basement just below their feet, picturing the martial arts foam dummy down there was the acolyte he was eviscerating with his sword. 
“That… sounds like a threat. Or a death sentence,” Y/N squeaked, never considering the possibility that she herself could be turned. Jeongguk’s face split into a grin, picturing the girl frozen in time forever, pure and skittish, her eyes like rubies. 
“It’s two sides of the same coin, Y/N. It’s a threat, and it would be a death sentence,” Jeongguk, all but purring, watched the wheels turn in her head. She was confused once more, her weight shifting from foot to foot. While the fledgling enjoyed her nervous response to his presence, he realized, with a frown, that the acolyte seemed to find him the most approachable amongst the coven members. He’d have to change that, swiftly. “Don’t you know how vampires are made?”
“I don’t wish to know,” Y/N quickly shook her head, striding to the grand front door in order to get a move on with the dreaded errands. Besides, Jeongguk looked far too eager to describe something unpleasant.
“Well, to start. We’d have to drain you of almost all of your blood,” Jeongguk disregarded her, not that Y/N was surprised, her fingernails scraping against the front door when thunderous footsteps pounded up a stairwell just beyond Jeongguk’s shoulder. “You’d be dying. Before you’d take your last breath, however…”
“We’re going,” Namjoon stormed by Y/N and the taunting fledgling, Y/N gulping audibly when she saw the sweat rolling down his temples and the unsheathed sword in his grasp. 
Finding it the perfect opportunity to leave Jeongguk and his gory stories in the dust, Y/N made haste after Namjoon, the length of her coat’s skirt collecting dust and moisture from the previous night’s storm. 
“Get in the back,” Namjoon jutted his chin towards the cushy black sedan she remembered seeing the day she met the vampires, the car already running and filling the air with silky looking exhaust.
Clamming herself up, Y/N obediently slid into the back seat of the sedan when Namjoon yanked the door open for her, a mew of awe leaving her when she landed on the soft leather booth. Taking in the cabin, Y/N traced over the vents closest to her, the glossy wood buffed to a bright shine. 
“Oof–” Y/N grunted, a heavy object tossed over her lap. With a shriek, she shoved Namjoon’s sword off of her and onto the floor, relieved that it was sheathed but horrified that she was anywhere near it. Namjoon slammed the door shut, cutting the chill that was coming from outside, the sheer force of the action jolting the car around.
“Put that on the seat next to you. If you had any idea how much that was worth, you’d be kneeling on a chapel floor until you bled,” Namjoon was suddenly in the seat directly in front of her, not even turning to make eye contact when he addressed her. 
With trembling hands, she lifted the sword, the scabbard made of a black lacquered wood, urgently placing it as far away as she could. There was a blood red tassel hanging off it, the strings somewhat frayed with time, and engraved inscriptions along the sides of the scabbard that Y/N could not read. 
“Hoseok fucked with my seat again,” Jeongguk dropped into the driver’s seat, his fast movements a blur as he adjusted his mirrors. “You never let me finish, either, Y/N.”
Y/N wished she could go back in time and smack herself for insisting on the vampires calling her by her actual name. Something about a deadly creature knowing and using that particular intimacy felt wrong, Y/N nervously biting her lip as Jeongguk turned to pull out of the carport. Flashing his fangs at her, Jeongguk paid no attention to Namjoon burying himself in some boring book about martial arts to distract himself, the girl shrinking into her scarf for feeble protection.
“When you’re drained, taking your last breath… one of us could either kill you or wait for you to die,” Jeongguk switched the radio on, quiet hip-hop pulsing through the expensive speakers in the cabin. “Then you have to be fed.”
“What are you even talking about? How can you feed me if I’ve been murdered?” Y/N narrowed her eyes, wondering if Jeongguk thought she was slow. 
“One of us would feed you immortal blood, and it would revive you as an immortal yourself. A fledgling,” Jeongguk went on as if she hadn’t poked holes in his tale, the iron gates at the front of the property swinging open to a wintery, meticulously paved street. 
“Why on earth would we ever turn that pest?” Namjoon murmured blandly, the sound of his leather gloves rustling against the pages of a book again sparking Y/N’s interest. It appeared that Namjoon never actually took those gloves off, for some elusive reason. “Can’t we carry out this task in silence?”
Jeongguk chuckled, but knew not to push his luck. Namjoon was one toe out of line from taking his frustrations out on bystanders at the market, which would be a pain to clean up. He settled into his seat and rolled down the windows, his skin sensitive to the elements with the acolyte’s blood nourishing it. As cool rain ran over his forearm, Jeongguk smirked to himself– it was only a matter of time until Jimin would be requesting pints of the acolyte’s blood to dump in his nightly bath. He was ripped from his thoughts of Jimin bathing in a marble pool of crimson when the girl actually dared to speak, almost mocking Namjoon’s final comment.
“Why on earth would I ever want to be turned? I’m already chained to you for the rest of my human life. To be trapped with you in immortality would be an eternal hell that I would have no escape from. Not even death would be kind to me.”
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“Hosting parties here in the winter is something I never envisioned during construction,” Taehyung wound the silver chain to his pocket watch around his wrist, a line of maids brushing by with armfuls of holiday decorations. “It was intentionally designed for summer parties, keeping outsiders out.”
“You’ve mentioned that before, Master Taehyung. Especially during the winter holidays. You must detest them,” Edmund managed to keep up with his immortal employer by breaking into a near jog, scratching down a list of to-do’s as he went. The old butler had a weight lifted off his shoulder that morning, the acolyte off-property and out of the lion’s den, at least for a while. 
“The loggias open to the lawn and gardens. They’re useless in the winter. We should be hosting in the New York townhouses,” Taehyung continued to complain, using the butler as a sounding board. 
“Shall I order the evergreens today?”
Taehyung sighed, his delicate nose wrinkling up as he imagined the sappy, pungent smell of Christmas trees permeating through his estate. From where he was in the great hall, he could simply tilt his head just so, and with vampiric vision he could make out every brushstroke painted onto the ceiling fifty feet into the sky. Similarly, his hearing picked up every whisper from the servants in the hall, their heartbeats, and the continuous ticking of his pocket watch. Passing a hand over his gelled curls, Taehyung resumed his lap around the first floor. 
“I suppose. I cannot believe Seokjin put me on decorating duty. He can be such a… prince,” Taehyung frowned deeply, mulling over how he had managed to get himself in that spot. 
Sure, Taehyung was still a ‘fledgling’, but he was older than Jeongguk, who was actually permitted to take the acolyte on a trip to town with Namjoon. Classic Seokjin, showing favoritism for both the youngest vampire and the second-in-command. It made Taehyung want to spit venom onto the floor, but he always considered himself a gentleman, so he swallowed it down with a wince. 
“Like the holidays, Master, you seem to detest town, too,” Edmund, with mild amusement, made sure to prioritize Taehyung’s preferences for the decor– if he didn’t follow the businessman's directions to the letter, there would be cruel and unusual punishments. “Perhaps he was sparing you from the throngs of people asking for your audience.”
“Do not kiss my ass, Edmund,” Taehyung peered down through his thick lashes, hands stuffed in his pockets. There was no bite to his words, Taehyung actually appreciating Edmund’s discreet and meticulous work over the years, but he still had to maintain his immortal authority. “Seokjin picks punishments that create a slow torture, ones that unravel a person. I didn’t do too much to offend this time, but I still have to handle ‘festivities’ when I’d rather focus on the business.”
“I heard…” Edmund’s cerulean eyes darted around the hall before he and the fledgling reached the secluded grotto beneath the marble staircase. “Namjoon has been appointed as a sort of bodyguard to the acolyte.”
“Wherever did you hear that, old friend?” Taehyung grinned maliciously, stooping to get a good look at the elderly human. After years of being worn down without losing his mind, Taehyung didn’t mind that Edmund possessed an agenda, as long as it wasn’t conflicting with his own. “Eavesdropping again?”
“Simply trying to get up to speed on how things will be working from now on,” Edmund, even with his years of service, always preferred to deal with the vampires when they had recently fed, their appearances closer to humans than the ghoulish, starving versions of themselves. Presently, Taehyung appeared like a healthy young man that stepped forward in time from the Gilded Age. “You don’t mind filling me in, do you?”
“Namjoon cannot tolerate humans, especially ones that lack the intelligence of the world. Being a bodyguard to one is the ultimate punishment for him, so he must have royally fucked up somehow. Jeongguk is the only one who knows how Namjoon fucked up other than Seokjin, which is why he’s driving Namjoon around. Insult to injury. That, and Seokjin is testing Jeongguk’s self-control, which will wear thin quickly.”
 Taehyung knelt on one knee, dipping his hand into the chest pocket of his vest. Using a Prussian blue handkerchief, the silk slippery when he used it to polish a spot of marble making up the basin of the grotto beneath the main staircase.
“Forcing Yoongi to paint without Paralysis is torture for him. Being barred from playing his little games is no doubt leading up to a spell of hysteria from Jimin,” Taehyung folded the handkerchief with care, then tested the febrile water bubbling in the grotto with a satisfied hum. “As for Hoseok… Well, he escalated things with his vulgarities last night. Seokjin’s response was to send him to local churches to keep up on our donations.”
“Which leaves dealing with the cabaret to you,” Edmund, though considered to be ‘old’ for a human, was quite sharp. Taehyung hated many things: tardiness, interacting with extroverts, dealing with party planning, but most of all, Taehyung despised lowly human perversions. 
“Come sundown I’ll be at a cattle auction hosted in a brothel,” Taehyung grunted, straightening up and trying to hide his surprise that his limbs moved so fluidly. “No use in fighting it. Seokjin is manipulative, but it is how we have stayed powerful for so long.”
“Manipulative? That is one of the kindest ways you have described me in decades, Taehyung,” Seokjin, melting into the crooks and nannies of the vast estate, made his presence known, the head chef cowering behind the eldest vampire. “You’ve hardly finished coordinating decorations. You wouldn’t have to traipse around the red-light district after sundown if you lit a fire under your ass.”
“Are you implying that I’m lazy?” Taehyung scoffed incredulously, Edmund excusing himself to ‘order the evergreens’. “The greatest businessman in history. Lazy?”
“The greatest businessman in American history. You still brag about your achievements like a petulant child of nepotism,” Seokjin glanced at the clipboard the head chef was holding with trembling hands, pointing at something and clicking his tongue. Taehyung felt his skin rippling, like Glamor was trying to turn him into a demon with leathery skin. “Leave the rest to Edmund and just go to the cabaret now.”
“Hoseok usually handles the cabaret. What am I even supposed to be negotiating in that cesspool?” 
“You’re supposed to be picking out entertainment for the lecherous variety of guests that will be here this week. Must I spell it out for you?” Seokjin was out of sight as soon as he was in it, ordering the chef around again. “Has anyone unpacked the crates of liquor yet–”
Taehyung’s face split into a disbelieving grin, a rough chuckle tearing through his chest. There were days Taehyung longed for Seokjin’s power and influence, and moments where reality struck him. With his skin still threatening to take on the appearance of something otherworldly– beyond his control– could Taehyung even wield the power it took to head a vampiric coven properly? 
Glancing around the grand summer home he painstakingly designed for himself a lifetime ago, Taehyung sighed as he began to transform himself into a man who no one would recognize in the streets. Not only a widely known vampire in town, but the businessman who put Newport, Rhode Island on the map many years ago, Taehyung morphed into the perfect replica of the young man handing him his car keys– who stumbled sideways in shock when he saw a clone of himself staring back. 
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Gentle, fuzzy orchestral music played loudly enough to have bottles of turpentine rattling against each other, Yoongi groaning from behind the wet canvas he was agonizing over. A pile of discarded palettes sat at his feet, unsatisfactory swatches of colors smeared all over the plastic heightening his aggravation. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the shade of the acolyte’s hair just right. 
“On the average day, I admire your process. Judging by appearances, you’ve deviated from that process. Where am I to sit, your lap?” Jimin returned from his ‘break’ from writing in Yoongi’s bedroom to take a leisurely two-hour long bath, dressed in his typical satin attire. 
Yoongi, out of pure frustration, launched a palette knife across the room and out of the half-cracked bay window. It was true: at least fifteen canvases in various sizes were tossed about the room, paint still tacky and smudged, the fabric tarp protecting the Oriental carpets caked was in pigments, and not even Yoongi’s bed– where Jimin typically lounged to pen down his screenplays– had a free spot where a box of supplies didn’t occupy. Yoongi himself looked like a trainwreck, long glossy hair gathered into a ragged knot at the back of his head, reeking of paint thinner, and clothes basically destroyed by the mediums he was using. 
Jimin, slightly mournful that his silk pajamas were going to be ruined, dropped himself onto one of Yoongi’s thighs, raising an eyebrow at Yoongi’s agitated expression. Usually, he would have pushed Jimin off by then, too wrapped up in what he was painting to endure Jimin’s flirting. Blinking, Jimin turned his head, leaning forward on Yoongi’s thigh to get a look at the painting causing the older vampire so much grief. 
His work was as fine as ever. In fact, Jimin had half a mind to smack Yoongi across the face. Of course, the painting was of the acolyte, but it portrayed her taking a sip from a champagne flute during the previous night’s dinner. The colors were vibrant and lifelike, and the acolyte was so well depicted that Jimin could imagine the girl stepping out of the canvas. Yoongi even managed to capture how beautiful the ruby necklace Jimin picked out for the acolyte was, which made Jimin spring up from his perch and place his hands on his hips. 
“You’re being ridiculous. How could you possibly be unhappy with that portrait?” Jimin accused, the cloud over Yoongi’s head darkening. “The hair isn’t right,” Yoongi murmured, plucking up another tube of paint to lighten the tones on the top of the acolyte’s head, where the chandelier picked up on her natural highlights. “I can’t get it right without her here.”
“Well, she’s playing with others right now. It’s not your turn,” Jimin snarked, finding the notebook he was using for his latest screenplay under an old smock Yoongi only used to wipe paint from his hands. “Besides, is she Botticelli’s Venus? How complicated can her hair color possibly be?”
“You were too preoccupied with how her tits spilled out of the top of her dress to notice her hair,” Yoongi went for a petty low blow, which was unlike him. Jimin paused, clutching his notebook to his chest and studying his elder for a moment. 
Jimin always thought Yoongi was beautiful, but when Yoongi found a new muse, he glowed and took on something angelic. However, that particular time his glow was dimmed, thanks to Seokjin’s restrictions on Yoongi’s access to his newfound muse, and stress brought on by perfectionism was extinguishing the light almost completely. 
“You haven’t been this neurotic about details since the portraits you worked on for Marilyn Monroe, and that acolyte is nowhere near that level of femme fatale,” Jimin cocked his head, perturbed that Yoongi wasn’t giving him the time of day. He couldn’t have that. “Yoongi, put the blasted paint down.”
With practiced ease, Jimin used a stronger dose of Hypnosis on Yoongi than he did the acolyte. Yoongi, promptly, felt his filbert brush clatter to the ground, a gritty purr coming from the artist. He didn’t have the patience to entertain Jimin that day, but it seemed Jimin had other ideas, pushing the palette out of Yoongi’s grasp and using a crooked finger to tilt his chip up. 
“Release me, Jimin,” Yoongi narrowed his eyes, his ancient bones aching from Hypnosis wrapping around them. “You do not need to Hypnotize me to gain my attention.”
“Clearly that’s not the case,” Jimin snapped, letting go of his elder covenmate and withdrawing his power slowly. “You’re completely consumed. She’s your latest muse.”
Jimin watched, with an almost human interest, blood pool in Yoongi’s cheeks. When a vampire has fed, within moments the mortal blood revives the stagnant vampiric blood– black in color– and the immortal’s body is restored to its height of health. Essentially, the mortal and vampiric blood become one; the blush across Yoongi’s cheeks was something Jimin had not seen in at least fifteen years. It was worse than he thought. 
“I would not go that far… muse…” Yoongi looked away, out the window and towards the sea. “No. Just a new subject to paint.”
“Sure,” Jimin scoffed, bored suddenly. With a huff, he meanly pushed a stack of sketchbooks off of Yoongi’s bed with a bare foot, collapsing on his side and cracking open his leather bound manuscripts-in-progress. “I have no issues admitting the acolyte has inspired my work. You know I’ve suffered from a block lately. Your stubbornness vexes me.”
“If it ‘vexes’ you so much, go entertain yourself with the girl’s maids. Pick out her wardrobe for the week and leave me in peace,” Yoongi retrieved his paint brush from the floor, using featherlight pressure to diffuse the harsh lines making up a lock of hair on the acolyte’s head. “Turn down the music while you’re at it.”
“Cold,” Jimin grinned, one of his fangs piercing through the cap of his pen once he brought it to his mouth. “Turn the music down yourself. I’m comfortable now.”
It was diverting to bicker with Yoongi, who usually behaved like a mute hermit living in the mountains– the artist could stoop to a level of sarcasm that Jimin perfected before he even became immortal. Yoongi grunted noncommittally, only breaking away from his canvas for a moment in order to slam the radio off, built-up strength in his limbs due to Paralysis begging to be used. 
Yoongi couldn’t remember what it was like to work without Paralysis. In the beginning, when Yoongi was a young, human man, he took any menial job he could to keep him off the streets of Tuscany. Not once, prior to meeting his mentor, did Yoongi allow himself the luxury of dream of being a fine artist. He was too busy exterminating vermin that often holed up in his ramshackle one-room thatched-roof mud hut while he was selling fruits in an open air market to have dreams. Yoongi shook out his arms and legs, the sounds of Jimin scrawling his loopy cursive over parchment grating on his delicate ears.
“Are you writing a play or a movie script?” Yoongi mumbled, jealous that Jimin’s creativity seemed to be flowing like a babbling brook. The jealousy spiked when Jimin flipped through his notebook, revealing that he had written what seemed to be two different productions already– Paralysis started to stiffen Yoongi’s own body spitefully.
“Actually, I wrote a ballet and a short horror film. Working on something more classical now, a novel… think Mary Shelley…”
“You wrote a ballet,” Yoongi confirmed flatly, Jimin giggling and setting his pen down to tease an obviously envious Yoongi. “When was the last time you even danced ballet, let alone create a show?”
“Just because you’ve stopped dropping by during my practice times, doesn’t mean I’ve quit, Yoongi,” Jimin, in a singsong voice, rolled over on his stomach to kick his legs in the air, already envisioning complicated choreography and elaborate, decadent costumes gracing worldwide stages. “Enough of this. Take a walk, you’re distracting me.”
Jimin, with glee, returned to his manuscript, loving that he could gloat. Sure, a part of him– a part the size of perhaps a grain of rice– that felt bad for Yoongi, but it was so overshadowed by centuries of immortal narcissism that Jimin didn’t even realize that part of him still existed.
“You’re the eldest fledgling, but you behave like the youngest. Disgraceful. Messy,” Yoongi changed the subject, kneeling to the floor by the bed. Face level with Jimin, Yoongi tilted his head. “Hedonistic.”
“I’m a vampire, Yoongi,” Jimin didn’t spare his elder a glance, and even though he was writing at a nearly impossible to see speed, no ink stained his sturdy fingertips. “Maybe you should lean into your nature like you used to, and you’ll paint something actually worth viewing.”
“You’re suggesting I ignore Seokjin’s orders.”
“Since when have you obeyed them? Seokjin gives you a rather long leash because you’re boring. He gave you an out. He doesn’t care if you Paralyze the acolyte, he just wants it contained to this bedroom. If anything, that should excite you,” Jimin put down his pen, fangs on display when his mischievous smile returned. With a manicured nail, he scraped umber pigment off of Yoongi’s cheek, directly below one of his eyes. 
Yoongi considered this, letting the fledgling remove paint from his face and hair, something dark and twisted steeping into his system. Jimin was absolutely right, and it pained Yoongi to admit that to himself. Since when had he been so idle?
“Jeongguk accused me of lacking risk…”
“Normally, I’d tell you not to listen to that cretin. But the point remains,” Jimin curled his lip up in disgust, picturing the brute youngest fledgling, who had none of the artistic proclivities he and Yoongi shared. 
Yoongi seemed to be processing things, his eyes almost wine-colored as he stared at Jimin. At one point, there was a time Yoongi couldn’t stop painting him; the round false innocence of his cheeks and lips, his graceful dancer’s figure. It then dawned on him, his entire expression brightening, which had Jimin halting his task of removing Yoongi’s turpentine-soaked oxford shirt. 
“Sit in next time. Model with her,” Yoongi grasped onto one of Jimin’s wrists, his sharp nails cutting into the fledgling’s creamy skin. A trickle of blood, a shade of pinot noir, slid down his wrist bone: the shade of Jimin and the acolyte entwined. 
“Oh?” Jimin’s grin only widened seductively. “There’s the risk that made your fortune.”
Reinvigorated, Yoongi let Jimin shrug off his grip, the playwright dragging his tongue over the crescent-shaped cuts marring his perfect skin. As Yoongi stood, his shirt dropped to the floor, his chest the only part of his body spared from paint splatters. 
“After the gala, when Seokjin is less concerned with appearances to the outside world, we’ll see how a session goes,” Yoongi turned, raking a hand through his filthy hair. Under his nose, Jimin was slyly using the callbox to fetch a staff member to run another hot bath. “Just the three of us.”
Yoongi frowned at the idea of Jimin inviting Hoseok– who enjoyed partaking in some of Jimin’s twisted, sometimes perverted, games. Sniffing indignantly, Jimin got the message loud and clear. 
“Well, Hoseok can–”
Jimin was swiftly shut down when Yoongi was hovering over him again, his wrist recaptured. Body loosening deliciously when Paralysis washed over him, Jimin watched Yoongi plant a large palm beside him on the bed, trapping the fledgling in place. 
“Just the three of us.”
Yoongi repeated himself firmly, squeezing Jimin’s wrist enough to have his breath catch, and without a smart retort, Yoongi smirked at the blood flowing from his cuts. Almost like he was consummating a grave, corrupted promise, Yoongi wrapped his lips around the wounds he created, sampling both the fledgling and the human girl as if it was the fountain of youth. Outside, thunder cracked down over the glacial sea, disguising blissful, selfish sighs. 
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“Miss? You seem distracted this afternoon,” Juliana’s voice is what cut through the fog, Y/N absently gazing into the polished silver mirror. 
Her cheeks had filled out with the consistent rich foods she was being fed around the clock. There was no attention paid by her to the butterfly needle sticking out of her arm, drawings now a daily– sometimes twice daily– occurrence. Y/N suspected that the blood bags were delivered bedroom to bedroom like room service, and though she hated needles, her maids drawing her blood was much better than teeth in her neck.  
It had been a couple of days since her outing with the two vampires, and Y/N felt herself moving through her life like a mechanical part of something much larger. It was the afternoon of the great ‘gala’ that the coven was throwing, which meant Y/N was roused from her bed prior to sunrise for a hasty breakfast before being manicured to perfection. 
It was a miracle, but the vampires had mostly left her alone after she had returned from the Sanctuary with Namjoon and Jeongguk. With convenient bags of her blood for them to feed on, it really wasn’t necessary for the coven to interact with her. In fact, other than Namjoon’s constant presence lurking in her shadow, the only other vampire she had to speak with was Seokjin, who gave her a detailed list of how to behave at the gala. 
Y/N didn’t know why she even had to be present during the event. She would have much preferred holing up in her bedroom with perhaps a book all night. Wincing when Juliana pulled the needle from her arm, Y/N cleared her throat, eagerly spreading a soothing ointment over the injection site. 
“Miss?”
“Hm?” Y/N shivered, fingers twisting into the fur blanket draped over her lap. Y/N had become intimately familiar with the vanity she was sitting in front of; sometimes, she swore she saw spirits in the silver mirror. “Sorry?”
“I mentioned that you seem distracted. Perhaps anticipation for the gala? The decorations look glorious,” Juliana was merry, all of the staff was, but it hardly rubbed off on Y/N. She had never been to any kind of party, and not knowing what to expect had her stomach turning. 
“Oh… yes. Anticipation,” Y/N lied, drawing the corner of her mouth up into a half-smile. Dressed in only a silk nightgown, Y/N too consumed by her anxiety to bother covering up her nipples peeking through the fabric, she was spun around on her stool. Her bed was littered with gowns, all shades of cream or off-white. “What am I wearing?”
Another thing Y/N got used to, much like Namjoon keeping close tabs on her even if he wasn’t physically present, was Jimin picking out her clothes. Not just outfits for dinner, but her daily attire as well, down to the jewelry and shoes. Y/N no longer had much agency at all, and that was revealed to her when she was taken to the Sanctuary. 
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Two Days Prior to the Gala
Y/N had a lump forming in her throat when Jeongguk pulled his car into the Sanctuary’s gravel drive, the stone cathedral exactly how she remembered it just a week ago. Her legs were still cold from walking around the market, where she was treated like a ball-and-chain by the two vampires in the front seat. She was correct, earlier: there were several stands serving hot chocolate to the wealthy citizens of Newport, but neither Namjoon or Jeongguk offered to purchase one for her, even if it was to stop the chattering of her teeth. 
Jeongguk was sent into various shops by Namjoon, who remained by Y/N’s side on the cobblestone sidewalks. At one point, while Jeongguk was inside a flower shop ordering centerpieces, Y/N strayed all but three feet away from Namjoon to take a look at a stall selling roasted chestnuts. It had been a mistake: Y/N was yanked backwards promptly, and the rest of the time spent at the market involved her being led around like a dog on a leash– Namjoon dragging her by the scarf around her neck. 
In a blur she could hardly understand, Y/N was toted from the backseat and began to chase after Namjoon before he could choke her with her own scarf. The Sanctuary was unchanged, and though it had been just shy of a week, Y/N took in the sights of the front drive like it was brand new to her. Instinctively, when she spotted Mrs. Sloane at the entrance, Y/N flinched sharply into a solid body beside her– Jeongguk– and at that moment, she didn’t know who she’d rather be left alone with. 
“I–I thought vampires could not come onto Sanctuary grounds,” Y/N breathed, thinking of Meredith and how horrified she’d be to know that two wolves were amongst the lambs. 
“Quiet, AB-. I see you continue to flap your gums despite the honor you were bestowed,” Mrs. Sloane greeted Y/N in the only way the old woman probably knew how: nastily. While Namjoon simply copied the stone gargoyles beside the entrance, still, Jeongguk snickered at Y/N’s scolding. “Good day, Masters. It has been some time since we have had the pleasure.”
Y/N wanted to bust a gut like a rabid hyena. Jeongguk appeared increasingly smug, puffing out his chest importantly, while Namjoon simply adjusted the fit of his leather gloves. 
“We’ve gathered a group of acolytes for you to choose from for your gala.”
Y/N’s friends and acquaintances. With a wobbly lower lip, she and the two vampires were led to a detached office building beside the Sanctuary, where only wardens were permitted to enter. 
“You believe that moronic propaganda? Did you think we’d burst into flames stepping foot on sacred ground?” Jeongguk leaned forward, his voice floating over Y/N’s shoulder, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. Promptly ignoring him, Y/N edged closer to Mrs. Sloane of all people. Though Mrs. Sloane had treated her like livestock, she still had her humanity. 
The room the three of them were led to was quite large, perhaps the size of a gymnasium, and it was apparently treated like a storage room. There were boxes of incense and votive candles stacked everywhere, as well as phlebotomy equipment. Jeongguk, with amusement, rifled through a box of tourniquets. 
“Bring them in,” Mrs. Sloane barked towards an open door, the acid in Y/N’s stomach steadily climbing up her throat when she heard shuffling. 
A handful of acolytes, mostly from the AB+ group, were pushed into the room hastily in a rush of white linens. The sight of the bleached and starched clothing Y/N used to wear day in and day out had her feeling dizzy, and if things couldn’t get any worse, an acolyte no older than seven was part of the group as well. 
“The acolyte beside you is the only one in the area with AB- blood. We’ve brought in all of our AB+ and B- typed acolytes, for your choosing. The head of your coven requested how many–?”
“Fifteen.”
Just one word was the first thing Namjoon uttered since they arrived, and the sharpness of his tone had even Mrs. Sloane stiffening. Y/N, helpless, squirmed in place as the acolytes she had lived with for years stared at her like a Hollywood star. She must have been something to behold; dressed in a fine designer coat, matching cashmere mittens and scarf, and well groomed and fed. Y/N didn’t realize how starved for nutrients she truly was, as she noticed the lack of color in the other acolyte’s complexions, the thinness of their cheeks. 
“Remove the children from the room,” Namjoon crossed his arms over his chest, his sword tucked into the crook of his elbow. “Feeding on children is a waste of time and energy.”
“Yes, Master,” Mrs. Sloane snapped her fingers, and Y/N sagged in relief when four acolytes under the age of eighteen were escorted back to safety. “Now… how will you select the group of fifteen?”
Namjoon’s jaw clenched, lips pursing, as he scanned the line of humans cowering in fear and awe. None of them had the same perfume-scented blood Y/N had, but Namjoon was expecting that. He really didn’t care either way which acolytes were picked, it wasn’t like Namjoon himself was going to be feeding from them. 
“I have an idea,” Jeongguk, who Y/N temporarily forgot was even present, dropped a pack of blood tubes onto the concrete floor and stepped forward. Trying not to budge, Y/N’s breath caught when Jeongguk hummed and looked her way. “Y/N, you go ahead and pick them out of us.”
Y/N’s mouth fell open. Jeongguk wanted her to select people she grew up with for hordes of vampires to feed on at a party? Once aware that the coven she was placed with held little humanity, it was revealed that they had none. Jeongguk’s expression was positively delighted, taking in Y/N’s abject horror. 
“Go ahead, AB-,” Mrs. Sloane encouraged, her tone dripping with either jealousy or spite. Y/N thought if Mrs. Sloane wanted to serve vampires so badly, perhaps she should have taken her career to the cabaret. “Make haste. These acolytes have work to do, unlike yourself.”
“I cannot choose,” Y/N breathed, the twinkle in Jeongguk’s eyes brightening when she shrunk backwards. The acolytes in front of her began to murmur, as disobeying orders from a vampire was a serious offense. “Please, don’t make me…”
“Very well,” Jeongguk grabbed her by the shoulder, making her look directly into his soulless eyes. Y/N knew what was coming before Jeongguk even entered her mind, her skull starting to pound as he sorted through memories. “Warden. We’ll take the thirteen healthiest in this room.”
Y/N’s lower lip was wobbling again, noises all around of people being shuffled to and fro. 
“That’s two short–”
“Find me the acolyte Joseph. Y/N will be pleased to see him at the gala, no? And…” Jeongguk held up his hand to cut Mrs. Sloane off, eyes narrowing playfully when he found what he was looking for. Y/N frantically began to shake her head and chant ‘no’, but it was far too late. “The pretty blonde girl with the princess curls. Meredith.”
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The memory had Y/N’s anxiety spiking acutely. Agonizing for days over the fact that her inability to fulfill Jeongguk’s request resulted in putting her friends in danger, she hardly got much sleep. Juliana meticulously hid her dark circles behind a skin tone matched concealer, and despite the inner wars she was fighting, Y/N’s appearance was sparkly and flawless. 
Skimming a hand over one of the gossamer dresses laying on the bed, nausea reared its ugly head. The cream color of the garment had her thinking about the uniforms of the acolytes. While Juliana was busy comparing the gowns to one another, Y/N began to pace slowly, trying to come up with some elaborate scheme to save her friends. When contemplating escape routes and disguises, Y/N got a whiff of sea salt and cedarwood. A pleasant smell, yes, but one Y/N had just begun to associate with a particular immortal. 
“Are you trying to pace your way through the floor, ma chérie?” Hoseok was in her doorframe once more, and apparently Seokjin had managed to convince him to wear a suit. It was the most dressed up Y/N had ever seen him, and she hated to admit to herself that he looked good in pressed black pants. “Why aren’t you dressed?”
Y/N looked down, her silk nightgown skimming her thighs and hugging parts of her body too closely. Swiftly, she wrapped her arms around herself to shield from Hoseok’s greedy roaming eyes. Hoseok loved to act falsely concerned about Y/N and her well being, but Y/N quickly found out that all Hoseok was was a drunken lech. In fact, once Y/N got over the size of the watch on his slim wrist, she saw the bottle of rum he was taking swigs from. 
“Do you not like the dresses Jimin picked out for you? How rude,” Hoseok tore his gaze from the swell of the girl’s hips to get a look at the gaudy gowns littered around the room. Turning up his nose, he scoffed at the selection. “It’s like he’s trying to turn you into Dracula’s bride.”
“I hate the color white,” Y/N blurted out, her maids all stopping what they were doing to gape at her. During the handful of incidents when Y/N dared to complain to the vampires, staff was not around. “The acolytes. We always had to wear white linens. I never wish to wear the color again.”
“Do you?” Hoseok purred, setting his rum onto one of her nightstands. Running his tongue over his fangs, Hoseok found the human girl’s terrible filter entertaining. “Then don’t wear white. Simple as that.”
“What?” Y/N stopped pacing, gawking at Hoseok like he grew a second head. He couldn’t be serious, Y/N’s brief astonishment washing away into suspicion at a hat’s drop. 
“Don’t wear white, chérie. There’s a storage room in the basement stuffed with gowns flown in from every fashion capital in the world, all tailored to your size. What color do you want to wear?” Hoseok liked to play with his food, and the sickly-sweet tablespoon of hope directed towards him from the human girl was enough to keep up the ‘nice guy’ act. 
“Are you toying with me?” Y/N saw through the act, drinking in his sharp jawline and alcohol reddened cheeks. “Won’t… Master Jimin be upset?”
“Jimin will survive. He’ll pout, but he can’t help his melodramatic tendencies. So pick a color, Y/N,” Hoseok grew impatient, the friendly act starting to become forced.
Y/N, still processing the unnatural consideration from Hoseok, studied the vampire. He was just as handsome as all the others, in an almost elvish way, his features angular. Truly, he was a vision– even down to his sun-weathered hands. Her mind then went to colors, but all the vibrant hues dancing through her mind made her frown. 
“Black.”
“Fitting,” Hoseok shook his head, snapping his fingers. “Juliana, fetch the girl her black dresses. The rest of you, get rid of anything remotely off-white in her closet. Happy, chérie?”
“Why do you talk like that?” Y/N spoke through the flurry of her maids tripping over their feet to fulfill Hoseok’s request, the vampire’s drawl odd to Y/N’s ears. 
“Are you referring to my accent?” Hoseok raised a brow, plucking up his bottle of rum again. “I’ve spent centuries in New Orleans, pet. I believe humans call it a Southern drawl.”
Y/N nodded without understanding. The furthest south Y/N ever went was Little Compton, which was still in the state of Rhode Island. Taking a swig of his rum, Hoseok smirked as the beginnings of trust in him began to form in the acolyte’s head. Before she could go completely schoolgirl on him, Hoseok began to take his leave with a threat filling the air. 
“By the way, chérie. I believe you’ve forgotten I can predict your every move. You will not successfully take yourself and your friends away from here tonight. I can Track you to the ends of the Earth.”
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Despite the fact that it was November, Y/N ended up selecting a sleeveless, short floaty dress made of chiffon. The garment was unlike anything she had ever seen, rippled fabric attachments slipping over her elbows, and it displayed some of the parts of her body she was growing fond of: her legs and chest. After Hoseok’s reminder that she was trapped, instead of cowering in fear, Y/N decided to play the game. 
It was futile to try and escape. It was dangerous to try and help her friends. What Y/N could do was exploit some of the weaknesses of the coven– hence the sultry dress– and keep one eye on her friends during the gala, if possible. Wrapping her hand around the banister she was guided to by Juliana, Y/N took a moment to look down at the bustling, decked-out great hall. 
Pine trees studded with multicolored lights outlined the hall, and the empty room was transformed into a festive holiday party. Cocktail tables were placed, candles and trays of libations placed on top, and there was an orchestra clumped in one corner of the room playing lively music. The fires roaring had the room feeling quite toasty, but the sight of dozens of vampires milling around in finery has a shiver rolling down her spine. With the cursory glance, Y/N did not spot Sanctuary whites, which had her heart sinking. Clearing her throat, Y/N rolled her shoulders back and began her descent down the red carpeted staircase. 
Mingle, but do not say anything moronic. Eat, drink, dance. Do not cause any kind of scene. Do not let vampires touch you outside of the coven. You are here as an accessory. Do not embarrass us. 
Seokjin’s voice entered her mind, Y/N miraculously not tripping down the stairs in her stilettos, turning her chin to the side. Near the center of the room, Seokjin was speaking to a vampire that physically appeared to be in his late forties. His short hair was swept off his forehead, and he was in a fine tuxedo that Y/N had no doubt cost a small fortune. A strong hand pinching a champagne glass, Y/N watched him actually smile at the vampire he was talking to, but the grin never quite reached his carmine eyes. 
“Oh! Thank you,” Y/N was approached by a staff member almost as soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs, handing her a glass of bubbly. In one go, Y/N drained the flute, and it was replaced with a fresh one straight away. Glossed lips wrapping around the glass, her eyes narrowed when Jimin started slinking towards her. “Here we fucking go…”
“Dove, that’s not what I chose for you,” Jimin cocked his head, the buttons on his shirt loose and revealing his jutting collar bones. “Though… this is quite the choice, too.”
Jimin dragged his eyes up and down the girl’s figure, which was softer and curvier than it was just a week ago. Mouth filled with venom, Jimin giggled and threaded an arm through the girl’s, reveling in her stiffness when he started to pull her through the crowd. 
“That there is Sarah Berwind. She’s the guest of honor’s wife,” Jimin pointed to an elegant female vampire, dressed in a midnight blue gown. Her silvery blonde hair reminded her of Meredith, though when the vampire turned her head, there were kohl-lined red eyes giving her a reality check. “Over there, a few artists Yoongi invited. Yuki, the lovely woman in gold, she made her fortune in jewelry…”
Y/N didn’t particularly care about any of the vampires Jimin was pointing out. Her focus was solely on finding her friends, to somehow protect them from excessive harm. She knew Meredith was probably beside herself. Her attention was stolen when Jimin came to a stop, near the edge of the room. Jimin had led her straight to Yoongi at the edge of the cleared dancefloor. Y/N blamed Yoongi entirely for Seokjin assigning Namjoon to her as a bodyguard. The artist was listening to a gangly looking vampire, Yoongi’s long hair glossy under all of the lights. 
“So this is your newest source of inspiration. Bellissima,” the gangly vampire drank her in, Y/N’s skin crawling as his eyes lingered over her breasts. “I hear you are to begin modeling with Mr. Park here.”
Y/N was lucky she had been practicing her poker face all night. She had not a semblance of an idea of what the vampire was talking about, but the thought of sitting with Jimin for hours in various poses made her want to vomit into a passing by champagne bucket. Yoongi’s expression was stormy when she didn’t reply right away, Y/N translating the look into a warning. 
“Yes, sir. I can hardly wait,” Y/N lied, her voice high and sweet. Yoongi, stone faced, thought the girl was laying it on too thickly, but the dolt of an immortal beside him bought the lie instantly. Fledglings. “When are we to start modeling, again, Master Yoongi?”
“Wow. Your coven still has acolytes using titles?”
“Our coven is old-school, and that’s the way it should be. That’s all, Damien,” Yoongi waved a hand, the vampire Damien sucking his teeth but getting the hint. He disappeared into the crowd. “You do not have to be a sarcastic little bitch, acolyte.”
“Excuse me?” Y/N squeaked like she was slapped, Jimin laughing and stroking the back of her head. 
“Your behavior tonight is being watched. I suggest you hold your honeyed tongue,” Yoongi’s voice was gruff and low, and Y/N could feel it in her chest. Before she could respond, the music cut off, and someone was clinking a knife against a glass. 
“Welcome to The Breakers. The orchestra has composed a waltz for tonight, and I’d like to invite you all to the dance floor,” Seokjin, the perfect picture of geniality, addressed the partygoers. “As the designer of this estate, Taehyung Kim will be leading the dance, accompanied by our coven’s acolyte.”
Y/N’s head swiveled like a barn owl’s, dozens of pairs of vampiric eyes were on her. Seokjin’s wicked smile finally reached his eyes, knowing Y/N would be mortified by the spectacle. The silence deafening, Jimin’s arm was replaced, that time by an arm clad in familiar tweed. Taehyung, with his shiny gelled waves, peered down at her impassively. 
“I do not know how to dance the waltz,” Y/N panicked, knowing that every immortal in the room could hear her strained whisper into Taehyung’s ear. 
“You will,” Taehyung murmured darkly, and Y/N’s spine went rigid when a new skill was downloaded into her head from Seokjin. If Seokjin could simply Compell knowledge into her head on a moment’s notice, what else could he make her believe?
In the center of the dance floor, Y/N knew exactly how to stand, effortlessly collecting Taehyung’s broad palm, her free hand sliding up the lapel of his grey jacket and resting over his sluggishly beating heart. Like he had done thousands of times before, Taehyung slung his forearm around the small of Y/N’s back. Without further ado, the orchestra struck up a swelling, vibrant tune, and they were off. Y/N didn’t even have to think as her feet moved in time with her partner, maintaining eye-contact as they danced across the floor. In mere seconds, couples of vampires joined the two of them, so at the very least, Y/N wasn’t the complete center of attention. 
Taehyung was one of the most elusive vampires, aside from Yoongi. In fact, she had spoken to Taehyung the least during the week she had spent at The Breakers, mostly because he was often away on business or walking the grounds of the estate by himself. Though undead, his palm was warm against hers, and Y/N slotted her fingers between his just to feel how her blood brought him back to life. He moved gracefully, leading them around the dance floor, all while drinking in every inch of her face. 
“Where are my friends?” Y/N asked after a few moments, on edge that she hadn’t seen a single human aside from staff since the evening began. For all she knew, Meredith or Joseph could have four vampires latched onto them while she danced with the devil. 
“What’s the point in telling you? Nothing you do can change their fate,” Taehyung’s baritone voice was flat, punctuating his point by dipping Y/N low to the ground. He was so close to her face, Y/N could see that his eyelids were different from one another. 
“Then there’s no harm in telling me where they are. I simply want to say goodbye,” Y/N argued, slightly breathless when Taehyung pulled her back up. One of her long, pointed nails traced along the handkerchief tucked into his breast pocket. 
“I thought you were told not to weave fallacies. You continue to believe you can outsmart us,” Taehyung spat back quietly, the fact that they were quite close to the wind section of the orchestra disguising his words from other guests. The set of the human girl’s mouth was firm and unbudging, Taehyung somewhat respecting her for digging her heels in. She might look meek and mild, but the acolyte had a strong moral compass– a death sentence. He decided to throw her a bone. “The acolytes are in the library, the cabaret girls were placed in the music room. Seokjin doesn’t want you near either of those rooms tonight.”
“He seems preoccupied schmoozing with the ‘guest of honor’,” Y/N couldn’t even see Seokjin, but the last time she did, he was still chatting away with the graying vampire named ‘Berwind’. “If there’s nothing I can do to protect them, afford me the decency to apologize to them.”
“Apologize? Isn’t it a great honor for you holy rollers to even be in the presence of vampires? With that logic, they should be kissing your feet for the opportunity to be here.”
“Obviously, that’s not the case. While I might still hold onto the hope that I can outsmart one of you, you hold onto the belief that acolytes end up at Sanctuaries on their own volition.”
There was a count of eight where Taehyung and Y/N stared each other down, flawlessly in sync as they waltzed. She spoke no more, nor did Taehyung, for the remainder of the song, dewy sweat coating her skin from both the undivided attention and exertion from dancing. When a final note of a viola rang out into the air, Y/N held her breath as they bowed to each other, Taehyung brushing his lips over the back of the girl’s hand reluctantly. 
“Do what you want, but reap what you sow.”
Taehyung evaporated like smoke. His duties were carried out, he played the game. Decorated, played nice, and danced with the human girl. Whatever happened after that, Taehyung couldn’t find it in him to care. 
Meanwhile, arms still extended and molded to Taehyung’s shape, Y/N was left entirely by herself, by the grace of God. It was comical, really, how she was able to scamper from the dance floor, clinging to the walls and feeling her way to the library. Another song was already beginning, mortal vital fluid and liquor intoxicated vampires elegantly swaying in throngs. Peripheral vision caught Jeongguk pouring his champagne flute over the décolletage of a short, dark skinned vampire woman, his fingers tangled in her silken braids and his tongue dragging down the skin of her throat. 
Jittery, Y/N was halfway to the library when she heard something quite queer. A muffled, high-pitched sound coming from the front entrance of the mansion had her freezing. The foyer had twin doors on the right and left: the ladies’ reception room, and the male counterpart directly across. Ice crystals formed in her gut, the sounds growing more agonized. It was a chorus of voices wailing, Y/N ducking into a hallway that connected to the foyer in order to find the source of the sounds. Not a soul was in the foyer, not even the human boys that handled valet, Y/N’s knees knocking together when a particularly horrendous female scream pierced her ears. 
“HELP, PLEASE! OH GOD, PLEASE! DON’T KILL ME!” 
Y/N’s skin flashed ice cold. Of course, she stupidly sprung into action, her stilettos falling off in the process, darting towards the gentleman’s reception room. She was human, after all. A desperate cry for help could not be ignored. 
“N-NO! NO, NO, YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED T-TO, YOU! YOU, YOU–”
Y/N pushed the heavy door open, bewildered, not understanding the sight in front of her at all. It was like the most horrific nightmare her brain could conjure, but it was real, it had to be. Her subconscious never considered something so evil. 
There was a young woman dressed in a fringed flapper dress, crouched and cornered on the floor and trembling so hard Y/N thought she was seizing. That, and she was nearly doused in crimson blood, shielding herself from the vampire standing over her, his foot crushing her ankle bone with a sickening crunch. The woman shrieked horribly, the whole floor covered in streaks of crimson. That wasn’t even the worst of it. Not even three paces away was a messy heap of limbs, limp and useless. 
Delicate, white-blonde curls matted with blood. A dimpled smile ironed out into a slack-jawed scream of desperation. White linens now permanently stained with clots of gore, motionless and skin nearly blue. Tossed in a pile, mangled and drained, were Meredith and Joseph, open-eyed and dead. 
The scream that came from Y/N was molten core in origin. It pierced through the merriment of the holiday party like banshee’s wail, the last piece of Y/N’s heart exploding into pieces. Joseph’s beautiful amber eyes were glassy and unseeing. Meredith’s hand was weakly curled around Joseph’s stained shirt sleeve. Nothing but the sound of her own screams registered to Y/N. 
What happened next, Y/N would never be able to get out of her mind. By the time her howling brought the orchestra rooms over to a startling halt, the vampire tormenting the young cabaret worker had Y/N pinned to the wall by her throat. It was Edmund Berwind, the moustached ‘guest of honor’ who had drained her two closest friends dry, stinking of liquor and death. Crushing her vocal chords, Y/N’s screams turned into choked barks, her nails scraping fabric wallpaper from behind her. 
“Aren’t you sweet, honey? I’ve heard–”
Y/N didn’t get the chance to hear what else Berwind was about to taunt her with. While the cabaret girl sobbed in agony, cradling her flattened ankle, Berwin was torn from her and Y/N could only collapse beside the corpses of her friends. 
He entered the room like the Grim Reaper. Whooshing through the air with precision was a metallic sound followed by wet, repulsive squelching. Namjoon, in one fell swoop, unsheathed his sword and slashed forward, severing Berwind’s top half from the bottom. Arterial spurts of blackened immortal blood sprayed the entire reception room, as well as dowsing Y/N completely, the viscous hot fluid running down her face. 
The body fell directly next to Y/N. Desiccated intestines spilled from both cavities of the bodies, followed by other equally ancient organs, Y/N’s skin coated with the blood of her former friends and the gore of a slain vampire. Berwind’s body was still twitching, the severed lower half contorting grotesquely while the top gushed liters of blood, gore, and tissue. Y/N was still screaming, soaking in gore, waiting for the angel of death. She hadn’t been able to spare her friends in time, and she was sure to meet her end considering how furious her ‘bodyguard’ seemed. It was all over. 
Namjoon found a spare pillow set on a cushy chair, using it to mop the filthy mess Berwind made on his sword. With disgust, he used the wallpaper to clean his gloves, large streaky prints staining the walls. Weeping hollowly, Y/N stroked Meredith’s lifeless curls from her face, anticipating her momentary death. One hand slipping over one of Berwind’s eviscerated kidneys spilling onto the floor, Y/N glanced at Namjoon one last time. 
“I Compelled her to avoid being touched.”
Namjoon didn’t answer Seokjin, who promptly locked the door to the reception room. Namjoon kicked the top half of Berwind’s hemorrhaging corpse, fat with too much blood, off to the corner of the room. Using his jacket sleeve to remove eviscerated organs from his face, Namjoon sheathed his sword and laughed at his elder. 
“I’ll leave you to clean up the mess this time, hyung.”
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jayhyunglover · 20 hours ago
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Fill the void
Pairing : Caleb x non MC reader Content :rough sex , aphrodisiac sex , oral sex (fem receiving) , slight bondage, inappropriate use of evol , slight exhibitionism, unprotected sex, MC's cameo , reader evol is mentioned, porn with plot , creampie (use protection guys ) Wk: 6.9 k (MF *side eye* ) Synopsis : when you fled on that island to save your comrade you didn't expect it to turn into forced vacation with the very reason of your jealousy. Part 2 to Heartless A/N: this part 2 wasnt planned but Caleb got me feeling some type of way . I need this man to rail me on top of a desk with his uniform still on and Call out my name playing in repeat in the BG. (Zayne be filling papers divorce after he heard say that) Now playing: Fill the void by The weeknd and Lily Rose Depp.
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Fill the void.
Maybe that’s what you were desperately trying to do with Caleb’s presence in your life. Fill the enormous void in your heart and soul.
You didn’t know who avoided who at this point. Was it you or him? Who cared, anyway? He had his pipsqueak back. You just minded your own life and business now.
“It seems there isn’t anything wrong with that area,” you heard Commander Ash’s voice crackle through your headset.
“They must be hiding. Keep looking,” you replied, voice cool and controlled as your eyes scanned the real-time images from his UAV camera feed.
Usually, missions involving Protocurve anomalies fell under the Hunter Association’s jurisdiction, but the unusual readings near the Farspace Fleet-controlled zone warranted your team’s intervention. The fluctuations were too erratic, too dangerous to ignore.
A sudden crash broke through the static, followed by a sharp burst of white noise. Then, silence.
“Commander Ash! Can you hear me?” Your voice pitched higher as your fingers scrambled over the console. “Ash, respond!”
No answer.
Shit.
Ripping the headset off, you spun out of the command room, ignoring the shouts of other soldiers as they tried to stop you.
“Lieutenant General! Protocol requires—”
“I need Hershley 4543 prepped and ready for immediate departure!” you barked, cutting them off as you stormed into the hangar.
“Ma’am, that’s against—” the mechanic stammered, stepping forward.
“No buts! One of our own is out there, and I am not leaving him behind,” you snapped, your voice razor-sharp, thought your hands were trembling betraying the panic bubbling just beneath your façade.
The mechanic hesitated for a moment, then nodded, shrinking under your unwavering gaze. “Understood. We’ll have it ready in five.”
“Make it two.”
            …*...*...*...*...*...*...
You climbed into the cockpit of the Hershley 4543 -a sleek reconnaissance aircraft equipped with stealth capabilities and advanced tracking systems. The roar of the engines was deafening, but it grounded you. You went through the pre-flight checks with practiced efficiency, hands flying over the controls as the team cleared you for takeoff.
Rushing into danger like this was beyond reckless. You knew that. But Commander Ash was an ally -a friend even, though you’d never admit it aloud.
“Flight control to LTG,” a voice crackled in your ear. “Tracking a spike in Protocurve readings at your target location. You sure about this?”
You flicked the comm switch. “I’ll handle it. Just keep the airspace clear.”
               …*...*...*...*...*...
The flight to the designated zone was uneventful—eerily so. The clouds parted to reveal an expanse of barren terrain. From the air, everything seemed peaceful. Too peaceful.
You adjusted the thermal imaging on your monitor, scanning for any sign of Ash or the Wanderer he’d been tracking. The anomaly readings were spiking, but there was no visual confirmation.
“Come on, Ash. Where are you?” you muttered under your breath, gripping the controls tighter.
A loud thud made your ears perk up , your senses in high alert as you heard a faint curse.
What the actual fuck ? you quickly took off your headset ,shifting the commands on automatic pilot mode before standing up to explore what on earth was happening in the back of your plane. 
Your steps were as silent as the plane 2 minutes ago and you were starting to think the curse you heard earlier was just a trick of your imagination .As you approached the source of the noise , your right hand reached for your sidearm. 
You opened the curtain separating the rest of the plane from the cockpit  ,gun raised and ready only for your eyes to fall on that hunter girl 
What was Caleb's pipsqueak doing aboard an Airforce plane ? 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” You heard your voice said , your eyebrows furrowing in a confused frown that had the girl in front of you gasping. 
You didn't lower your gun even as she scrambled onto her feet,  her hands raised in surrender. 
“Don't shoot , I am not an enemy” her voice was a pitched squeal that had your irritated nerves fraying further. 
“This is an Air Force operation , why are you here?” You asked, finally lowering your gun , the sigh of relief that left her lips didn't escape you. 
“I heard there is a wanderer involved  and I happen to be a hunter so I thought I could help” 
You scoffed at her words before placing your gun back in the holster. 
“And you think boarding without permission  on an airplane in mission is helping” you hummed sarcastically as you made your way back to the cockpit 
her hands curled into fists at your blatant dismissal , a small frown etched on her features as she followed closely behind you . 
“I am here to help” she repeated, her voice edged with an hint of frustration “not to be a burden” 
“Just you standing there and breathing is already a burden for me” you bit back before placing your headset back on, though your tone was cool and controlled the venom dripping from your words  stung harder than she cared to admit 
Just her existence was already a burden you thought,  eyes fleeting back to the faint signal that appeared on your screen. 
If she was the least offended by your words,  she didn't show it . After all, you were known among the Farspace fleet for your temper and sharp tongue.  And despite being there only for  a short amount of time , she seemed to have already picked up that information. 
She leaned against your seat to peer up over your shoulder at the monitoring screen where you could see the faint signal of Ash's locator 
What does she think she's doing ? The poisonous look you gave her would have probably sent her 6ft deep underground if only looks could kill but it didn't even make her flinch.
“If you're planning to tag along stay out of my sight unless you want to find out what happens when you jump off a plane without  parachute” your icy tone and the not so subtle menace in your words made her gulp audibly  but she didn't leave as you hoped, instead to your growing irritation she plopped herself in the co-pilot seat beside you , her eyes scanning over the command board like a curious child 
Just what the heck is wrong with her ? 
Whatever you shook your head before focusing back on the beeping signal of Ash's locator on your screen 
As long as she kept her mouth shut , Everything would be fine . You'd just have to pretend she wasn't there. 
But of course she wouldn't keep her mouth shut .
“I can sense  something” she whispered mostly to herself as she stared at the beeping hunter watch on her wrist but it didn't escape your ears 
Your eyes flickered towards her for a fraction of second before refocusing back on the monitoring screen where you could see how much closer you were getting to Ash's location 
“Hold tight, hunter. We are about to land” you warned her before preparing for the descent. 
She scrambled onto her seat,  her hands gripping the armrest for dear life . The sight almost pulled a small smirk from you but you quickly schooled your features back in their usual stoic mask . 
            …*...*...*...*...*...
Even as you landed on the small island where Ash’s coordinates led you , everything was still peaceful,  way too peaceful.  Though that hunter girl insisted on the fact she could sense something,  your surroundings were nothing short but the  picture perfect of a small tropical paradise. 
“It must be here” you heard her whisper to herself,  her feet pacing back and forth on the shimmering white colored sand  as she stared at that damn watch. 
“Stop pacing around like that , it's making me dizzy” you finally snapped, making her freeze in her tracks to look at you . 
“The signal said that Ash is there” you pointed at the dense forest at the edge of the beach 
“But the fluctuations are coming from this wa-” 
“We don't give a fuck about the fluctuations” you cut her off ,your voice icy cold as you stepped closer to her “we are here to save my friend and  not to play hunter x hunter so either you stay here and get killed by whatever is lurking on this island or you come with me” 
She contemplated your words for a moment,  her teeth nibbling at the plush of her bottom  lip for a moment before she finally spoke 
“Go , I'll manage alone” not the answer you expected but if she seemed determined to find this wanderer 
“Very well” you let out a faint chuckle before turning on your heels to head towards the forest where you'll probably find Ash without sparing her a second glance 
What ? She thought you'd bring her by a leash after you . She's a grown ass woman and can perfectly manage herself. Well you hope
If anything happens to her , Caleb will be devastated though. That torturing voice muttered in your ear . 
Fuck no . 
You weren't her damn babysitter and you didn't give a fuck about what Caleb thought or how would  he feel if something happened to her . Hell you didn't even give a damn about Caleb anymore. 
But even as you told yourself that , your legs were already jogging back to where you left her 
“Damn hunter” you muttered as your searched frantically on the beach but she was nowhere to be found , only the clear blue seawater and dusty sand was looking back at you 
Sorry Ash but hunter first then I'll save your ass. 
           …*...*...*...*...*...
You didn't know for how long you've been roaming endlessly on that island , searching for Ash and that damn hunter. You could easily leave her to perish there . After all it would quite the sweet revenge and finally satisfy your petty jealousy but you weren't letting anyone die on your watch not today 
You can always look away that same persistent voice whispered but you quickly shook it off. 
The dead branches creaked beneath your feet as you walked further into the forest , the eerily silence almost suffocating.  It was too quiet to be normal.  Not even a bird chirping sound ,That was beyond odd. 
A faint rustling made your ears perk up , your hand already pointing the gun in whatever direction it came from but to your surprise and relief you found the hunter girl and Ash attached and suspended like sausages by the vines 
No they weren't vines 
“Lieutenant don't get any closer” Ash shouted,  his voice laced with concern while the hunter was trying hard kick off those viscous tentacles around her legs 
You raised your gun to shoot but she interrupted you . 
“This doesn't work on them, see” she gestured to her gun laying on the grassy ground “wasted my whole magazine while trying to hit it” she sighed , her hands hanging loosely beside her head. 
You cursed lowly under your breath before grabbing the blade hidden in your boot to attempt to cut off those damn tentacles like vines or whatever they were 
“Why are you here , Lieutenant?” Ash asked,  earning a dirty glare from you 
“Saving your ass, of course” you let through gritted teeth before slashing through the vines to free him. 
He fell on the ground with a loud thud , his gloved hand reaching out to massage his head that got hit at the fall. 
You stepped over his body to cut off the restraints still curled around the hunter girl. She fell flat on her ass with a small gasp before sitting up. 
“Let's not hang around for too long” you suggested already helping Ash standing to his feet 
But you knew by the way she was observing the weird vines like tentacles you would definitely hang around for a while. 
“I've never seen a wanderer like that” she whispered fascinately , her hands already reaching out to touch it but you stopped her halfway 
“So what?” You scowled,  grabbing her wrist to stop her from touching the weird object   “new kind of wanderers appears everyday it's not the moment to play mad scientist,  hunter” you tugged her along wanting to get out of this island as soon as possible 
“But shouldn't we kill it?” She asked while you dragged her the further away possible  from this wanderer .
“That wasn't our mission,  Commander Ash was sent in reconnaissance and I went out of my way to save him” you explained not sparing her a glance while you navigated through the dense foliage with Ash trailing behind you. 
She seemed to understand your point thought the unimpressed look she gave you made you want to abandon her in this wanderers infested island
Yeah maybe you should do that . 
But as you were  concocting a plan to secretly ditch her and fly away with Ash in your head , A shrieking sound made you grab your gun quickly,  eyes roaming around the tall trees as you and Ash almost sandwiched the hunter girl between your bodies , senses in high alert 
“Stay right behind me and don't move” you warned her , your voice low and controlled as your eyes scanned the surroundings area searching for any signs danger 
And then it came , from above a dragon-like wanderer surged from nowhere, his clawed limbs aiming straight toward the hunter girl behind you. 
You quickly spun her around to fire at the beast but it dodged your attack with maddening ease 
Fuck. 
“Another one!?” you heard her whisper in a ragged voice 
“An enormous one apparently” you spat before recharging your gun. 
The dragon wanderer roared again before surging forward,  his attack still aimed at the hunter girl 
Just what the fuck did it wanted from her ?
You and Ash continued to shoot at it but it seemed useless , the bullet ricocheted against his scales covered skin with ease 
Shit ,at this rate you'd have to use your evol. 
You pulled on the trigger only to realize you no longer had bullets.
Crap  
“Commander” you looked over Ash who was hiding behind a tree. 
He shook his head , his own magazine empty. 
Fuck what do we do ? You looked down at the grass covered ground your mind racing a mile per minutes 
“Maybe I can try to resonate with it” the hunter girl suggested making your gaze snap back at her 
“You have the resonance evol” you and Ash exclaimed at the same time making her look at you with a puzzled gaze 
“Yeah” she murmured, her head tilting slightly to the side in confusion 
You exchanged a knowing look with Ash , your mind conveying the same thoughts 
You'll have to use your evol . Unlike you two Ash wasnt an evolver and your evol , well you hated it or to be more franc you hated to use it because things always ended up spiralling out of control when you did. 
But this time you didn't have any other choice and even if you absolutely despised this hunter you couldn't let her die . 
Don't get you wrong , if she die it might look bad for your career.  
“I am not going to ask you to trust me because I know you don’t and to be honest I do not either so are you ready to risk your life to get out of here Miss hunter?” You asked with an outstretched hand 
An invitation,  a deal for the survival of you 3. 
She looked longly at  your hand before grasping it. 
“well ,it's not like I have another choice” she breathed out before squeezing your hand. 
You let an half hearted  achuckle before yanking her to her feet to step out from behind  the tree you were hiding behind . 
You heard the shrieking sound again before catching a glimpse of the dragon surging towards where you were standing . 
You can do this.  Don't think about the experiment , the thunder , the electroshocks. 
Your eyes closed as you felt the burst of energy ran through your body , images of a young girl that wasn't yours flashing through your eyes . 
Caleb ? Why was he in those memories that weren't yours? 
You heard the clap of thunder before the shrieking sound grew louder . Another clap , louder than the previous one . The shrieking sound turned into a faint howl. 
You heard a distant call of your name but you couldn't respond,  the image in front of you making your gut twist . 
Caleb was gently cradling her cheeks as he wiped her tears . So this was what love felt like  ?
You could feel everything: how his warm hands glided over her face , the faint words of reassurances he whispered to her , the light kisses he left against her temple . You could feel it all  and it hurts, it hurts so bad it had you sinking  on your knees 
So this is what it feels like to be loved ? 
The sting of a slap wrenched you out of this loop of torture. The heart wrenching images of Caleb consoling his pipsqueak shattering in your mind . 
You blinked your vision back only to see the hunter and Ash's concerned faces looking down at you . 
“What happened?” You heard yourself ask, your voice sounded hoarse as your eyes roamed around to take on your surroundings . What was once a lush land of tree and foliage was now burned down to ashes 
“Where's the wanderer?” You questioned them
“Dead,” the hunter girl replied in a small and distant voice ,her eyes looking down in a way you didn't like at all . 
“2 thunderclap was all it took” Ash added  while avoiding your gaze 
Why were they acting so strangely? 
You hummed in response before standing up . Half of the forest was burned down leaving the giant wanderer laying on the center of it.
You approached it slowly , your steps deliberate as Ash and the hunter observed you from behind , their mind still struggling to comprehend what just happened. 
When you were at the dead wanderer's level you crouched down to observe it more closely.  A disgusting smell of burnt flesh was coming out of it , the nauseating scent so strong it had you pinching your nose 
But as you observed it ,a glowing light caught your attention making You lean in to take a closer look.
Only when you reached to touch it ,it exploded in a cloud of pink smoke that surrounded you. 
You coughed out as you waved it off with your hands but only one whiff made your head spiral uncontrollably.  It smelled so addictively good , the piney scent reminding you of Caleb ? 
Huh? you quickly shook off your head ,hoping the smell would disappear but it persisted making your mind grow hazier by the seconds. 
“Lieutenant” you heard Ash shout making your eyes snap back to his form who was already jogging towards where you were standing 
“We need to leave” he breathed out making you nod in agreement 
“You are right let's go” 
“Are you alright?” He asked , eyes squinting to observe you more closely,  taking in the unusual flush of your cheeks. 
“Why  wouldn't I be?” You retorted ,voice tenser than you intended. You internally winced at how his face fell at your harsh tone, his eyes darting away awkwardly.  
“Let's just get the hell out of this island ” you added with a last glance at the wanderer’s corpse  before starting walking ahead . 
Ash followed closely behind you , often shooting concerned glances as you made your way back to the airplane. 
Once inside your case worsened further . You felt your body growing more heated by the seconds,  your tie feeling too tight around your neck. 
You loosened it before running an hand through your hair . Miss hunter (that was the new nickname you gave her) keep shooting you curious glances along with Ash , finding your  fidgeting unusual even for the short amount of time she has spent with you 
“Are we arriving soon?” You asked for the nth time, heavy pants leaving your parted lips as you leaned against your seat 
Why did it feel so hot in here? 
“We'll be landing in approximately 32 minutes” Ash responded to your question 
32 minutes . that was far too long 
You needed to breathe,  to drink water , to see Caleb 
Caleb ? no , not Caleb 
“Fuck” you breathed out before taking off your jacket . The heat too unbearable 
“Are you sure you're alright?” You heard the hunter ask ,a hint of  concern lacing  her tone as she watched you struggle with unbuttoning the top 2 buttons of your shirt. 
“I am fine” you replied but the way your head was spinning uncontrollably was clearly  proving you wrong. 
You brushed it off as a side effect of whatever that pink smoke was but when you landed it only  worsened to the point you were stumbling toward your office room, leaving the debriefing to Commander Ash . 
You closed the door shut before walking over your chair to plop yourself on it. 
You still felt like you were  burning up , every fiber of your being screaming for a man who didn't even want you -need you the way you did. 
“What have you done to me Caleb?” You sighed as you leaned your head against your chair , your eyes looking up at the white ceiling as if it had the answers of your questions but it didn't.  No one did . 
You let out another heavy sigh before discarding your tie on your desk to see if you'd finally breathe properly .
Just as you thought you might be getting some rest from this unbearable heat that have been creeping up on your body your door fled open revealing an angry Caleb 
The sight of him , especially mad made your whole body throb with an intensity that should be concerning but your mind was way too clouded to care. 
He stepped closer to your desk , the clicking sounds of his boots along with your thumping heartbeat the only sounds registering in your mind. 
“What makes you think taking her on such a dangerous mission was a good idea ?” You heard him say , his voice barely able to contain his anger. 
His words cut sharply through your daze , your eyes blinking back to focus on anything but the way his face looked so distractingly attractive 
“I didn't take her anywhere” you said,  your voice sounding way too calm and steady for someone who was literally burning in the inside “your pipsqueak boarded on that plane without permission like a grown up” you added earning a scoff from him 
“You expect me to believe she managed to pass all those security guards to board on a plane with you out of all people” he leaned in to rest his hands on your desk , his eyes shining with a possessive gleam that wasnt directed at you but got your heart rate spiking nonetheless 
“What ?” You tilted your head mockingly at him before raising from your seat to lean closer towards him “you expected me to put a gun on her temple to force her fly away with me on an wanderer infested island only to come back unscathed” you added in a heated whisper against his ear that had his jaw clenching 
“Think wisely Caleb” You scoffed before stepping away from him , attempting to put some distance between you , to quell down the hunger that stocked further  inside you the more you inhaled the addictive scent of his cologne 
But Caleb wouldn't let you off the hook this easily . As you walked beside him to head to your office door , he pulled you towards him by wrapping his hand around your wrist. 
An embarrassing squeal left your parted lips as you felt your back hit the wooden material of your desk .
“Have I ever told you that jealousy looks awful on you , Lieutenant?” You felt the ghost of his lips against your heated skin as he whispered the words against your neck 
“T-this has nothing to do with jealousy” you heaved out , already panting while he hasn't even touched you yet .
“It doesn't hm?” He purred against the soft flesh of your neck before biting on it hard enough to have you clawing at the edge of the desk “then why have you been avoiding me?” 
The question made your eyes widen the suddenness of it too abrupt for your scrambled mind to process . 
“Tell me , lieutenant” he pressed,  his lips leaving a gentle kiss on the bruised skin he bit earlier . 
“You have your pipsqueak back our deal is supposed to be over” you managed to get out between feverish pants. 
The flash of disappointment you saw through his eyes had your resolve faltering but the fragment of memories you saw when you resonated with the hunter earlier strengthened it further . 
Don't get caught up in illusions.  This man wasn't yours.  
The realization made a burst of anger spread throughout you , one that had you yanking his hair harshly until your lips crashed against his,  all teeth and tongue , drinking him in like a thirsty man in desert that finally found water. Because he was your water , your light , a light that was bound to leave you . 
Caleb kissed you back with the same fervor,  his gloved hand wrapping lightly around your throat as his mouth devoured yours with a feral intensity. It was messy ,depraved and desperate.  
A small hushed plea left your mouth as he parted his lips from  yours to trail kisses down on your neck. His hands were everywhere , caressing any inch of smooth skin he could reach 
Your own hands reached out to unbuckle his belt but he stopped you halfway , his hand moving swiftly to bound your wrists with your own discarded tie. 
“No touching this time Lieutenant” he taunted,  cupping your chin to make you look up at him , the feral gleam in his purple  eyes making your cunt throb harder. 
“Today you're all mine” he whispered before capturing your mouth in another heated kiss. 
How you wished you could be his but this would never happen. You were just a sinner and he was your worst sin. The one who will drag you through the pits of hell. 
The small kiss he left on your nose was the last thing you felt before he slid down to his knees in front of you , his large hands spreading your legs apart as you tried to steady yourself on top of the desk despite your bound wrists. 
His fingers unzipped your pants before sliding them off you , leaving your legs  bare for him to admire 
How he has missed this view . 
“Still as beautiful as ever , Lieutenant” you heard him whisper in awe,  the compliment making you feel even dizzier while your cunt fluttered uncontrollably at his praises 
“Look at her” he looked up at you as he ran a gloved  thumb along your covered slit “so wet for me already” 
You could feel his infuriating smirk against your plush fold through the flimsy material of your panties . He was so close but so far away at the same time, it drove you wild. 
“Caleb” you whimpered out , your pleading  eyes looking down at him in an half hearted glare that made his cock twitch 
“What?” He smirked before peeking the drenched material of your panties in a way that had you throwing your head back 
“What do you need , darling?” The sound of him calling you darling made your hips buck against his face , the sinful moan escaping your lips sounding like music to his ear. 
“I need you” the words felt more like a confession than anything and if it wasn't for that weird wanderer based substance in your system you'd probably felt pathetic for baring your soul to him  like this but right now as his face was resting between your legs seconds away from feasting ,you didn't give a damn.  
The regrets and sermons would come later when you were  no longer aching and panting from him . 
The heat of Caleb's mouth pulled you out of your musings,  the overwhelming sensation making you cry out loud . He hasn't even bothered to take off your ruined panties , his mouth latching onto the flimsy material like he was starving. 
He was merciless,  the relentless pace making you squeal.  
“Oh fuck just like that” you moaned,  not even ashamed of the sounds you were making.  His tongue rolled  over your swollen bud over and over until you were practically in tears .
When you felt like you'd finally reach heaven ,a knock to your door made him stop, his eyes looking up to take in your form. 
And shit. The sight of you spread out on your desk with your shirt half buttoned,  your skin flushed with heat , panting with tears clinging to your waterline almost had him cumming in his pants  
Such a sight to behold and all for him to see. 
Another knock on the door made him let out a small growl against you , clearly not pleased by being interrupted .
“Lieutenant” you heard a worried voice said from the other side “can I come in?” 
Commander Ash? Your ears perked up . 
Shit shit shit why is here ? 
You looked down at Caleb who  was already back to work , his fingers pulling your ruined panties to the side to suck , lick and nip at your sensitive flesh while you tried your best to stay quiet and gather your thoughts 
“Lieutenant” Ash knocked once again “are you alright in there?” his voice was growing somewhat more restless. 
“Respond darling” you felt Caleb's nip gently  at your clit before looking up at you from where he was kneeling “it's so rude to leave someone hanging hm?” He spat right on your entrance before slurping down the mess. 
“ngh_” the sight of him looking so devilishly at you nearly had you cumming right there on his face but he purposely slowed down his pace to maddening kitten licks so you would  focus on responding Ash. 
But that only made you more restless and frustrated . 
“I am fine” you snapped , voice laced with frustration while the man below faintly chuckled before rewarding you with a flick of his tongue that made you groan .
You fought against your restraints so at least you would cover your mouth to muffle your sounds but no matter how hard you tried the knot wouldn't loosen . 
Handsome bastard. 
“Are you sure?” you heard Ash said ,  the confusion note in his tone not escaping Caleb's ears. 
“You don't really sound well” the sound of the creaking handle made your heart rate pick up . your stomach curled into knots with a mixture of fear and arousal that has fresh waves of your beading juices gushing around Caleb's tongue 
You didn't lock the door and he could barge in at any moment 
“Dirty girl” he muttered faintly against your plush folds , sticking strands connecting his lips to your pussy . 
You bit down on your lips to not let out a loud moan , the squelching sounds of your cunt along with your barely concealed moans leaving no doubt of what was happening inside there . Thought one thing was clear , Ash was clearly wrestling with the handle that wouldn't budge Thanks to Caleb's evol. 
“I am fine truly” you attempted to spoke again but the way Caleb was making out with your lips below while his gloved hand rubbed tight circle around your clit made your words came out like breathy whimpers. “Just a bit busy” 
You really hoped Ash would get the memo and get the fuck out here before you combusted . 
“Ok then” he said, his tone sounding a tad disappointed “I'll see around then Lieutenant” 
Yeah you'll see her around now go . 
You felt a wave of relief wash over you as the sound of  Ash's eloigning footsteps finally disappeared leaving only you and the smirking man still buried nose deep between your thighs. 
“You're such a dirty little thing , Lieutenant” he rasped out , flicking your clit one last time before raising to his full height . 
“And you're such a tease” you scowled before feeling him unbound your wrists.
 As soon as they were free you tugged him by his tie to capture his lips in a messy kiss , your mouth sucking lewdly on his tongue , tasting yourself on him
“We both know you love that tease, darling” he mumbled out between kisses 
If only he knew how right he was 
“No I hate you” you denied ,your grip tightening hard enough on his tie to make him lightheaded and the fucked whimper that left his mouth as you did so made your cunt howl his name in morse code. 
“Biggest lies I've heard in a while Lieutenant” he panted out with a smirk, his hands gripping your hips so hard they'd probably leave marks. 
“guess we are both liars then, Colonel” you tugged at his tie again earning a breathy “fuck” from his slick glossed lips . 
Lying was all you ever did your whole life . You lied about your feelings,  your past , you even lied to yourself. You were a liar , a sinner and he was your biggest sin. 
The distant look that passed through his lust filled eyes didn't escape your attentive gaze  and it made you thought for a moment :
Was he thinking about her ? Did he has the same regrets you had? Did he feel the same burning hunger you felt ? The one that threatened to consume you.  
Alas you would never get the answer of those questions because next thing you knew is that he was kissing so hard you would have fell on the ground if it wasn't for his hands looped around your waist.
You could feel every hard planes of his body against yours ,even through the material of your half off uniform shirt , the intoxicating scent of his cologne making your head spin. 
Your reached for his belt once again and this time he let you had your way, too busy eating out your face to stop your wandering hands. 
Just this once . You heard this voice whisper again . 
Caleb's head fell against your shoulder when he felt your soft hand wrap around his shaft to pump it slowly.  
It was hot and heavy in your hand, the leaking precum coating your palm in a sticky mess.  
He bit down on the plush skin on your shoulder to muffle his sounds , his hips thrusting in time with your movements. 
Wanting to get your revenge on the stunt he pulled on you earlier , you slowed down your pace until you could hear his muffled whimpers against your shoulder 
“What's wrong?” You cooed , leaning your head back to stare at him , his cheeks were flushed the prettiest shade of pink , his hair tousled from your ministrations , his kiss bitten lips  parted open to let out the hottest sounds you’ve ever heard .
You must been smiling too widely for his taste because the feral glare he shot you made you anything but scared , it only had you more turned on than ever. 
But as always Caleb wouldn't let you savor your victory for too long , using his evol as the awful bastard he was to manipulate your hands until they were bound behind your back once again 
“Nothing's wrong Lieutenant” he rasped before pulling your legs to wrap tighter around his waist , his pinkish tip teasing your entrance. 
“Just thinking about how hard” he punctuated his words with a rough thrust that had you clawing at  his shoulders , the sensation of him stretching your insides too overwhelming. “I am going to take you” he added in a heated whisper before setting a brutal pace that had your desk shaking maddeningly , important papers scattering on the floor in  a mess you'd have to worry about later. 
Caleb's hips were merciless,  fucking up into you like he hated your gut (as if he wasn't deep in them) . You clung to his uniform jacket sleeve for dear life , afraid you might slip but with how sandwiched you were between the wooden desk and his body you shouldn't be worrying about that. 
“Oh fuck” you threw your head back when you felt him hit that exact spot that has you seeing stars , body arching into his to bring him closer. Your hand grabbed at his tie to pull him closer to you as his hips kept pistonning into yours . 
“Yeah let me hear you, darling” he placed one hand on the desk beside you while the other pulled your leg over his hip to reach even deeper into you. 
Every forceful thrust planted on the bulleyes of your G-spot has your grip tightening on his tie hard enough  he could now see white spots blurring his vision . 
You were gonna be the death of him , (literally) . 
The smell of sex and skin slapping sounds filled the room along with your scream of pleasure and his breathy groans as he literally wrecked you , molding your insides to his shaft until all you can think about was him and only him . 
“You squeeze me s’tight” he groaned against your neck , his hips not easing his pace for a second , not when your greedy pussy was sucking him back in so perfectly at every thrust . 
His hand that was planted beside you  , slid up to wrap around your neck , putting enough pressure on your throat to have your eyes roll in the back of your skull. 
“Come for me” he whispered before ducking his head down to bite  on the plush skin of your collarbone.  The action had you screaming loudly,  the waves of pleasure crashing you over you like a sea storm. It was violent,  leaving you shaking for several seconds as he continued to drive himself deeper into you , not even stopping when he reached his own high . Sensitive shaft twitching uncontrollably as he painted your insides white . 
“Take it all , darling” he whimpered in the crook of your neck , puncturing every words by a sharp bite of his canines. 
You sobbed in overstimulation. Your head resting against his chest as you murmured soft plead for him to stop. 
“Shh” he shushed you with a gentle kissing your tears on your cheek that contrasted his hips below “just take it” 
He licked your tears away before kissing you with an unusual tenderness while he continued to fuck you roughly.  
You cried out as your second orgasm washed over you ,your whole body convulsing against his as your hand practically tore his uniform jacket with how good it hurts. 
Caleb's body jerked against yours, his head dropping in the crook of your neck as he reached his peak for a second time , pace finally slowing down to let you breathe. 
You stayed  like this for several minutes, wrapped in each other's embrace as you desperately tried to catch your breath. 
As the fluffy cloud of pleasure dissipated the ungly truth came back to slap you right back on your face . 
You succumbed to the sweet temptation Caleb was  once again.  Even as you promised yourself you wouldn't get involved with him again , here you were half naked with him still buried deep inside of you. 
You attempted to  push him off you , the action making him raise his head from the crook of your neck to shoot you a confused look. 
The audacity to appear confused.  You scoffed internally. 
“You should go” you heard yourself say , your voice hoarse from screaming his name too loudly . 
His brow knitted together,   clearly struggling to understand your point . 
“It'll  be troublesome if someone find you here” you explained calmly , acting as if he wasnt ramming into you 5 minutes ago. 
“I am aware” he replied with that same confused note in his tone, still not making any moves to get the fuck off you. 
“Then get off” you glared at him causing him to sigh 
“You're trying to run away again” he caressed your legs softly with a pensive look in his eyes
“I am not trying to run away, you dirtied me with your seed and I just want yo go the bathroom so get the fuck off me” you scowled stil trying to push him away 
Your words earned a barely muffled laugh from him. His eyes gleaming with barely concealed amusement. 
“I am sorry” he left a small kiss on your nose that made your heart melt “I thought you'd enjoy the mess” 
“Well I don't,  so get off” you let out in a small grumble 
“You're always so bossy , Lieutenant” he chided softly before picking you up making you wrap your arm tightly around his neck 
“You should ease up a little” he added , carrying you towards your personal bathroom to clean you up. 
“And you should know by now that I don't take advices from you” you bit back . 
The only thing you should ease is probably a gun down his throat. 
“Sure you don't” he said with a small smirk  before pushing the bathroom door open with his feet to get you inside. 
After cleaning you up in a remotely peaceful silence , Caleb left you alone in your office to muse on your thoughts. 
Just when will this madness end? 
Just when will you stop being attached to him? The response was clear : never because no matter how much he hurt you? And how hard you tried to stay away from him.  You'll always find your way back . Like a drug addict , you were addicted to him. Addicted to his poison . A poison that will probably end up killing you 
BAM . 
The end (or no) 
Taglist : @cheezeandkrackers @dollyvheart @gazelover666 @miyuki-hanna @cordidy @full-sunnies @aise-30 @vvintqz @tavviet
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darknight3904 · 3 days ago
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All Too Well
Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
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Summary: You and Joel get revenge for your beloved pet cat.
Warnings: Violence, guns, death, non-described torture, mentions of scars, pet death, language.
Word Count: 2.1k
Previous Part / Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist
May 2024 
The pistol that was tucked into Red Laces’ pocket comes free easily. Joel turns to his right and shoots the one with bad breath first. He stands up, straightening to his full height, ready to kill Oliver but Brett has gotten there first. 
His companion has straddled Louis’ killer and his currently beating him bloody. Joel leaves him to it and sets his sights on the other two remaining men. One of them is fumbling with his gun which appears to be jammed. The other has begun to flee the camp, he must know he’s fucked. Joel fires before the gun can be unjammed and then turns to shoot the running one down. It’s easy, pulling the trigger and watching a man fall into the dirt, covered in his own blood. 
Joel could hear the leader cursing from that tent he’d disappeared into, surely he knew that his men were dead. He approaches the tent, his boots sinking into the mud as he goes.
“Stay the fuck back!” The man snarls. 
If he were smart, he’d have a gun pointed at the tent flap, that's what Joel would do if he were him. Of course, Joel would never let his men die like dogs while he hid in a tent. What a fucking-
“Joel!” 
Joel barely gets the chance to turn around before you’re slamming into him nearly knocking him off his feet like you’re some professional linebacker for the Dallas Cowboys. Your Python is dropping to the ground with a thump as your arms wrap around his torso. 
“You alright?” You bury your face into his shirt and mumble into his chest. 
“Been better.” He motions to his still-bleeding shoulder, “Where the hell did you run off to this morning?” 
You untangle yourself from him and fix your focus on his gunshot. Ignoring his question, your hands push his jacket off his shoulder and stare at the wounded flesh. It’s not bleeding so bad anymore, hurts like a bitch but the blood has trickled off into a thin stream.  
“We should get you back to Jackson. Dr. Hill can fix you up.” 
You take a step towards the tent and Joel catches you by the arm. 
“Sweetheart, there’s somethin’ you need to know.” Joel starts, “That man you mentioned he’s…” 
“He’s in the tent, Joel.” You say looking at the halfway unzipped flap, “That missing teeth, cat-killing motherfucker is going to die. Let me go.” 
You must’ve been hiding somewhere, watching this camp, no wonder he’d conveniently been saved when Laces tried killing him. You rip your arm out of Joel’s hand and take another step to the tent. 
“Alright, Alright,” Joel says, looking at Brett who has dragged an unconscious Oliver over, “Let us bring him out here.” 
You watch as Joel and Brett disappear into the tent, the sound of a punch being delivered followed by a couple of grunts fills the air and before you know it, they’re back, dragging The Walrus out by his arms towards you. Joel tosses a hunting knife at your feet before he and Brett drop The Walrus face-first into the ground. 
“Didn’t even have a gun. Guess he thought his men would do all the killing for him.” 
It seems that The Walrus has gotten lazy, years ago when you were the one tied to a tree he always had a gun tucked into a holster on his side. He’s gotten complacent, this good-for-nothing sack of shit was seriously expecting his little group of 20-somethings would be able to protect him from you and your wrath. 
You watch as he pulls himself up, sitting back on his knees it dawns on you that you don’t know this man’s name. He was responsible for the many scars that crisscrossed your back and sides, he haunted you in your dreams and you didn’t even know his fucking name. 
“Listen. I can pay you. I got another man who will be back in a few days. There’s this settlement a few miles north, you three can have your pick of the supplies, food, women, whatever you want. Just let me live.” 
He can’t be serious, trying to weasel his way out of death like this. Did he not recognize you? You’d know his face anywhere, even now covered in mud and a shaggier beard, you knew it was him. 
You glance over at Brett whose eyes are fixed on that beaten bloody body he’d dragged over. You realize Louis is missing and come to the conclusion that Brett was staring at his friend’s now-deceased killer. Joel gives you a pointed look, his pistol is shoved into the back of The Walrus’ head, all it would take is one pull of the trigger and he’d be dead.
“You said you have another man?” You say, your voice devoid of any emotion 
“Yes. He’s out scouting a community. We’re going down to Kansas and getting the rest of my men, then we’re taking it. Come with me, I’ll pay you all well.” 
You scoff at this, a small laugh escapes your lips, what the fuck was wrong with this man. You knew he was a psychopath but seriously actually asking you to work with him? One of his men had killed Louis, another was about to shoot Joel, and for crying out loud he had four people tied up just 4 yards away. He must be delusional if he thought you, Joel, and Brett would want to work with him. 
“What’s so funny, bitch?” 
Joel smacks him in the back of the head with the butt on his gun, “Watch your fucking mouth.” 
“Or what? Is she gonna order you to shoot me? That how you live your life? Dickless, commanded by some whore with big tits?”  
You watch as Joel grabs The Walrus by a fistful of his greasy hair before slamming him into the ground so hard you’re pretty sure you heard the crunch of bone. Joel’s voice is deadly as he speaks directly into your captor's ear. 
“You’ll hold your tongue around my woman or when she tells me to shoot ya’, I’ll make sure you’ll go out real slow.” 
Joel hauls The Walrus back up into his previous position on his knees. 
“S’ that we did to Adam isn’t it, sweetheart?” 
The Walrus’ eyes flick to yours, trying to discern if Joel is lying. You nod suddenly feeling a bit small. Joel was good at this, intimidation. The man kneeling in front of you doesn’t give a shit what you do, it’s Joel he’s worried about.
“We got your second in command. See, in Jackson, we ain’t stupid the way you think we are. Caught him and that girl he was with right away.” 
“You’re full of shit.” The Walrus says in disbelief that he’s truly alone, his allies thousands of miles away in Kansas. 
Joel shakes his head, “You see, I wanted to draw it out some more, got some good hits in, even ran a knife across his skin. That sound familiar to you? Well, Adam, he cried a lot, pissed himself too, begging for his life in the dirt, “Joel raises his free hand, the one that's not holding his gun, and taps The Walrus on the forehead three times, “She put a bullet in his head with the same gun that's sitting there at her hip now.”
“Fuck you, man. You didn’t know him, he was a good guy.” The Walrus fires back 
“See that’s where you’re wrong. Good men don’t rape women.” Joel says, “Another thing a good man doesn’t do is feed em’ their pets for fun.” 
The Walrus’ eyes flick to yours, and a beat of recognition flashes. Now, he knows who you are. 
“That was years ago…I shouldn’t have…” 
You feel your voice returning, you want to speak to this man to listen to him grovel. 
“But you did.” You say softly, “You made my only friend in the whole world into bowls of soup and a bag of jerky.” 
The Walrus shakes his head like he doesn’t quite believe he did that. 
“And then, whenever we were alone you cut me up for fun, just like my cat.” Your hands shake a bit as you push your long-sleeved shirt up off your right arm to the elbow. You point to the long scars that are nestled into your skin forever, “Remember these?” 
“I-I’m sorry…” He says plainly, staring down at your arm
“Sorry isn’t going to cut it.” Joel snarls 
Joel motions for Brett to take his gun before he takes a step to his left, scooping up a big roll of duct tape that’d been sitting on top of an open bag of one of the men. He walks to you and turns your focus to him, 
“I’ll kill him for ya, sweetheart.” Joel, “Let me question him first though, Jackson needs to know about these men he's got down in Kansas.” 
You nod and feel hot tears fill your waterline. Why were you crying? You should be jumping for joy that Joel was going to put him down. Joel takes a step back and tells Brett to tape The Walrus up and drag him off to another tree where he’ll meet his end. A warm hand comes up and Joel brushes a stray tear off your face and presses a warm kiss to your forehead before moving towards where Brett is dragging your tormenter off to. 
“Joel?” 
“Hm?” 
“Make it hurt, okay?” 
The screams go on for what seems like hours. You’ve tucked yourself away under the shade of a tree that's bigger than the rest. The four captives, sit a few feet away from you. You’d cut them all loose and let them devour the bits of food the men had stashed away in their bags. Now, they sit and listen to The Walrus beg for his life as Joel works his magic. You still don’t know his name but you don’t want to know it anyway. 
Brett came back about twenty minutes ago and offered you a sandwich from his bag before plunking down beside you. You don’t know him well but you can tell he’s freaked out whether it was Joel or whatever had happened to Louis you knew Brett was scared. 
“How long do you think it’s going to go on?” He asks quietly 
Hopefully forever. 
“I dunno.” 
Another twenty minutes go by before Joel returns. He’s wiping at the blade of the knife he had initially tossed onto the ground for you to pick up.
“Let’s get goin’. We’ll send some people out to pick this stuff over later.” 
Joel reaches down and offers you his hand, you take it and he pulls you to his feet with a grunt. 
“I want to bury Louis,” Brett says as you leave the raider's camp behind 
Doubled up on the horses Joel leads you and the newcomers back to where Louis’ dead body lies, an arrow in his face. Brett rigs something up to drag the body back to Jackson and you’re on your way again. 
You press your cheek against Joel’s back and let your eyes flutter shut. Joel had insisted that you ride with him, giving Pepper’s reins to the mother and daughter you had freed. They’re a few feet behind you, the woman struggling a bit to keep Pepper walking straight. 
By the time you reach the gates of Jackson, it’s late at night. The gates groan as they open and you let a woman named Joan take the horses and charge of the newcomers. You lead Joel off to the clinic and sit by his side while Dr. Hill works her magic on Joel’s shoulder. 
You rest your head on Joel’s good shoulder, listening to the way his breath hitches a bit when the bullet finally comes out. It has to hurt yet he makes no move to cry out, always acting so tough. 
A few stitches and clean gauze later, Joel is pulling what's left of his t-shirt back on while you try to focus on anything but the skin he’s got exposed to your greedy eyes. Shame on you for thinking like that right now. He’d just been shot and you were thinking about how his chest hair had started to gray.
“Can I stay at yours?” 
Fuck, you hadn’t meant to blurt that out, god you were pathetic, not even wanting to sleep in your own home. You were 44 years old, not some toddler who needed coddling! 
Joel lets out a warm hum, slipping his old tan coat under his arm for safekeeping, 
“Course ya’ can sweetheart.” 
Next Part
...And now we can commence the romance. Joel can you and Sweetheart just kiss already, gosh!!?
How I felt last night when Tiktok wouldn't work:
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Comment to be added to the tag list. This tag list is not chapter by chapter, I carry the tags over to each part.
Tags:
@lunaticgurly  @orcasoul  @snowlycanroc  @freythecrazyfae
@person-005 @greenwitchfromthewoods
@elli3williams @yawnzzzzzzzz @am-3-thyst  @concrete-jungleeee
@cherrypieyourface  @kanyewestest @bambisweethearts
@sarahhxx03 @loveisacowboyyy @amyispxnk @lou-la-lou @dancinglotusbud @superblyspeedydragon @heartpatch
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obsessedhoneycomb · 1 day ago
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Family
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George Russell x fem!reader
Summary: While you thought you're about to spend your perfect anniversary night with your boyfriend, life reminds you otherwise.
Warnings: sadness, depressive thoughts, infertility, pregnancy, endometriosis
Word count: 1k
A/N: What can I even say.. I've been at the doctor's today, for check up after my surgery, which was a year ago and I got confirmed that my endometriosis is growing back. Not that I wouldn't know, because I know my body, but being said the facts out loud is hard. I spent my afternoon crying, curled on the couch, questioning myself in case of being able to have a child one day. To get myself out of the misery, I wrote this, because I would like to have someone to come home to me and hold me in his arms, just giving me the support through all this shit. I already wrote a few pieces endometriosis related, so if you want, check it out too. Love you all. <3
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It was meant to be a perfect day, you had plans to cook some dinner and also had some spicy things in your mind for the night.
Getting through your doctors appointments was something you got used to in the last year, after you had a surgery for your endometriosis. You felt something was off for a few months, your cramps crawling, stabbing you in the back again, those flares being harsh to the point you couldn't even sit. But you held your optimism, trying not to scare George, because worrying him while he was at his prime perfomance during the season wasn't on the list.
Today was meant to be special because you had a two years anniversary.
"Can you see these lesions here? It's back again, I'm sorry."
The words you somehow expected, but didn’t want to hear. The same spiral of pain, hormone shots, nausea and... infertility.
Yeah, you discussed it with George, because everything seems so easy to talk about with him, the idea of having kids.
It gutted you deeply, that you might not be able to give him a child.
As you got home, the space was quiet, only the soft humming of aircondition was heard, making your heart clench, that he's not even there to embrace your mess, even though it's not his fault. George was meant to be home in the evening, but you had a message in your voicemail, that he can’t get home in time, because of the delayed flight. Okay, he'll be here in the morning.
But your sadness and depresive thoughts will be with you through the night. Torturing your mind, getting the best of you, making you feel worthless and weak.
---
"Baby...?"
The faint sound of the deep voice woke you from the nap. You cried yourself to sleep in the living room, still wearing your clothes you went to the doctors in. The coat scattered on the ground next to the couch, your shoes kicked in the hallway, tissues to which you drowned your tears everywhere around you.
George knew something happened, it tugged at his heartstrings, when he saw you like this. Sad, messy and depressed.
You groaned a little, disoriented, while he sat beside you, his gaze locked on your face.
"What happened?"
Softly, he took your hand into his, brushing over your knuckles, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.
Then it hit you again. "It's back again, I'm sorry."
Tears burning in your eyes, you avert them to the side, not able to look into his beautiful ocean blue eyes.
"Hey, love... Don't do this. I know, that something is wrong, but don't try to avoid me, I'm here for you, remember?"
The flicker of hope, that you’re not that worthless went through your mind, your gaze finally locking on his, pouring all your hurt into the pool of his positivity.
"I was at the doctor's today."
Oh no. There's was only one thing that was able to get this reaction out of you.
"How bad is it?"
His hand wander slowly to your cheek, brushing a thumb over it.
"It's not worse than last time, but still... It's there. Again. For fucks sake, again. I hate it so much. I hate myself."
The breaking point, your emotions flew out, your voice cracking and your tears staining your cheeks, your eyes red even more than before.
George pulled you closer to him, letting you lean against him, as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. The scent of him mixed with his cologne was enough to calm you down a little bit. He was your safe haven.
"Shhh... It's okay, just- just let it out. Be angry, scream and cry. Don't hold it in your mind. I'm here to hold you, to pick up your shattered pieces." his voice was soothing lullaby, when your cries got louder and more desperate. Brushing his fingers through your hair, he pressed the kiss on your temple, rocking you as his arms were wrapped around you tightly.
"I might not be able to have a child, George." you choked out between your sobs, and he looked down at your face with frown.
"Is that the thing that concern you the most?"
"Obviously. What a woman I am, to not give her man a child."
George felt partly offended by your words, but he kept his composure, because he was used to your hateful comments towards yourself, even, for the most of the time, you were a hell of a confident woman, loving yourself.
"Don't talk like this, please. You're much more than a baby machine." he tried to be funny and.. it worked. You smiled through your tears. He reached for your cheek, wiping off your emotions, smiling a little.
"You can't lose hope just like that. We can be lucky, you know. We just have to try, be patient and somewhere along the way, we're gonna be blessed. I don't care if it's gonna be in a month or in years. I'll be there for you along the way. As I always am. And even though we don't get lucky, I'm lucky to have you. And that's all that matters in my life, because you're my family."
And as ever, he managed to give you peace, calming warmth flooded your soul, making you sure in that George is the one.
---
Watching the screen of the ultrasound machine as you laid down on the examination table at your doctor’s, you couldn’t shake the excitement. George, holding your hand, standing beside you, was watching your expression, his chest fluttering at how happy you were.
"Ah, seems like you got very lucky." The doctor chuckled, pointing to the screen, showing two strong fetuses.
"What does it mean?" George asked first, clearly confused.
"That means that you're gonna have twins."
You nearly passed out while you gasped loudly.
"What?! Two of them?"
George only chuckled, kissing your forehead, nuzzling his nose to your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo.
"Guess we were pretty thorough with our trying." he whispered with teasing tone in his voice.
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dyli-dadi3 · 3 days ago
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Knotting
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Chris thought you two were the bestest of buds, two peas in a pod... Well, he isn't technically wrong... there is a p in a pod...
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Tags: smut (p in v), knotting, mating, riding, hybrid animals (both puppies), mounting, getting caught.
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Ever since that shit with Wesker and Jill back in Africa, Chris hasn’t been able to relax. He tosses and turns at night, plagued with the face of Jill, of all the citizens he had to kill just because they were robbed of their humanity. The whole debacle had left him feeling incredibly lonely and filled with the overwhelming sensation that he was never fully alone. Every time he closed his eyes, even for a second, it was like he was in Africa all over again. It got to the point where his coworkers had noticed.
“Hey, Chris, you’ve been acting off, lately. " One late night, a guy in HR spoke up when he decided to stay and mess with the thick stack of paperwork that was growing on his desk. 
“Really?” Chris mumbled the words, more interested in the hissing of the coffee machine that was currently spewing out the liquid gold he needed. The sound was familiar to him, something that wasn’t the screams of pain and despair that he also got familiar with.
“Yeah, it’s like you’ve been distancing yourself. It’s making your paperwork late.” The little shit huffed, crossing his arms. 
Of course, he didn’t care about him, he was just there to ensure his performance was running at full speed. Not like he expected anything else, that’s why he never really talked to the guy. He just partook in the mandatory check-ins to say what is going good and bad in management, only for nothing to be changed because it isn’t “important.” He learned pretty quickly that the BSAA was good for one thing and one thing only, fighting bioterrorism. As long as there was some new monstrosity to humans running amok, their agent’s mental health could wait. 
“I hadn’t noticed,” Chris muttered, grabbing the steaming pot of instant coffee and poring it into his mug that was printed with the BSAA logo. 
“You know, I think you’re due for some company,” The guy said thoughtfully. What was his actual name again? Todd? Tom? I think it was Tom…
“How I spend my very limited free time isn’t your problem,” Chris said flatly, finally looking up at Tom. “And besides, I don’t have time to foster a new relationship.”
“Oh, I’m not talking about that,” Tim said, smiling at him like it was some kind of joke. 
I don’t have the time or patience for this.
“I’m thinking like a pet or something. Animals have been used for therapy forever. I think you need something to soften up that rough exterior of yours.” Ted chuckled, bringing his hand up to shove Chris’ shoulder. He just took a step back.
“…”
“If I can’t deal with a relationship, what makes you think that I can take care of a whole other life?” Chris huffed to save the man some embarrassment. Man, this guy was denser than that loaf of banana bread he tried to make for Jill when she joined S.T.A.R.S. with him.
“Geez, man, are you dense? I swear you live under a rock…” Timmy sighed.
Are you serious…?
“Haven’t you heard? Those new ‘hybrid’ things are all the craze right now.” If they’re being described as things, it can’t be good. “They’re humans, but animals.”
Chris raised his eyebrow at this. “First of all, how is that even possible? And second, why hasn’t the BSAA or government in general shut that down?”
“Well, the guy who was originally splicing all that DNA was arrested, but they couldn’t just kill the little fellows he made, so they put them up for sale. Not everyone could care for their new pet slash human baby, so some got loose and bred like rabbits. They’re everywhere now. Are you seriously telling me you haven’t seen one yet? News? Alley? Other friends?” Billy said.
Chris paused. “You’re telling me that there’s half animal, half-human creatures walking around the city?” The image in his mind was horrific.
“Yeah, they’re kind of cute, cute like a kid and a puppy at the same time,” Ben said with a smile. “But anyways,  brought it up ‘cause I think you’d do good with one. They’re easier to train than animals and can do all the same things we can, so you won’t feel bad for leaving them when you’re out doing that bioterrorism stuff. Brady has one.” 
“Who?” He knew a Brad once.
“...Brady? He sits right across from you.” Oh right, toupe. “Right, it’s just late,” Chris said, taking a sip of his coffee so he could at least try to properly wrap his mind around the bombshell Bill just dropped on him.
“Yeah, he says she’s the best thing to ever happen to him. But don’t tell his wife he said that.” 
Chris let out a dry chuckle, his mind moving on from the papers he had to do. Maybe he could look up these ‘hybrids’ once he got off of work.
“I’ll think about it.” He said before leaving Ben at the coffee machine.
It took way less effort than he expected, the papers quickly being filled out since he was getting more and more eager to find out what these hybrids looked like. If Toupe and Bennie thought they were good, as well as everyone else, they couldn’t be that ugly.
Before he knew it, Chris was sitting at his desk, the word ‘Hybrid’ typed up on his monitor. His finger governs over the enter button. Despite all the admittedly cute descriptions, he still couldn’t shake off the fear that they were just the same as all the bioengineered organisms he fought against. He’s killed his fair share of zombie dogs.
Forgetting the zombie dogs, he had always wanted a regular dog. So he amended his search, changing it to ‘Dog Hybrid’ and hit enter. 
The results were instantaneous, and he had to admit, they were pretty cute. The ones on the top of Google had round faces, chubby cheeks, bright eyes, floppy ears, and bushy tails. He then looked at maintenance. There was already an abundance of forums describing how to take care of them, what to expect depending on the type of species they derived from, and just some silly stories people wanted to share.
He was sold, and before he knew it, he had made an appointment to a shelter that houses hybrids to see if he could find one.
Of course, he always thought of having a tough-looking dog, big and fluffy. What he didn’t expect was to walk up to the front door and be greeted with two pups playfighting in the small enclosure just past the glass display. When he walked in, they both turned to look at him, yipping with pure energy.
He turned his back to them to greet the front lady who had been looking at him. “I’m here for a consultation? Last name Redfield.” 
The lady smiled, walking to the little gate on the side of her to let him in. “Just go down the hall and to the left, there’s a lady there that will help you from there.”
The lady she talked about was very sweet. She didn’t stare at him too long, or ask about his dark eyebags, or even the fact that he didn’t have unstained clothes to wear. She just asked him how much maintenance he was willing to expend for caretaking, as well as some personality inquiries. She said it was to “match him to the perfect pup,” since they only housed dogs.
With that, he was led through so many isles of dog-human things that he didn’t know what to do with himself. Despite the tempting allure of a companion to have when he came back home, it was all a spur-of-the-moment thing. He had yet to accommodate another living being in his house, and the thought of leaving a senior hybrid or puppy alone for long periods was beginning to weigh on his heart all over again.
“He was cute!” You said happily, flopping onto Leon’s side. “Imagine what it would be like to be adopted by him.”
It was a pastime for the two of you to look at the people who walked past and theorize about their lives, about what it would be like to be chosen by them. 
“I don’t know, he looks like he could crush my head with his bicep.” Leon grimaced, holding his head.
“Oh, but that’s the fun part!” You giggled, pressing your face to his side as your tail wags behind you. 
“I guess he looked interested.” Leon smiled, pouncing on you to nip at your neck. You squealed, trying to kick him off of you as he tried to pin you down. “Leon, that tickles!” You tried to catch your breath when he finally pulled away to sit down on the padded floor of the display case. “But that’s the fun part!” He said with a mockingly high-pitched tone as he smirked.
You huffed, jumping on top of him as you tried to repay the favor.
“I’m sorry, none of them called out to me,” Chris said, walking back to the front as he tried to ignore the pitiful looks of the hybrids he left behind him. Man, this was a bad idea.
“No worries, I’m glad you don’t feel the need to force yourself, we get a lot of people who fold, only to return them weeks later saying that they couldn’t deal with it.” The lady smiled, waving goodbye as Chris entered the front of the shelter again. 
He tried to ignore the way the two of you immediately stopped playing to lean up against the barrier of your enclosure. Both of your tails wagged, and he tried to push out the sound of “He didn’t get anyone! Do you think he came back for us?” coming from your sweet mouth. 
God, this was a bad idea.
“Are the ones in the front available?” He found himself asking the first lady. “Those two?” He awkwardly pointed at the two pups that were climbing over each other now that he specifically pointed them out. 
“I knew it!”
“We’re free!”
“Of course! They sure are the energetic type… Are you sure you’ll be able to handle them?” The lady said softly. He couldn’t blame her, he had answered her caregiving question with low maintenance.
“Don’t listen to her! We’re well-behaved!”
“Yeah! We’re so good!”
“I’m positive that we’ll be fine.” Chris smiled. No, I’m not, but I can’t say no to those cute faces…
“Well then, just sign these papers right right here for adoption, and then they’re all yours.” The lady smiled, reaching underneath her desk to produce two packets of papers. On the top of each of them were your names. The handwriting was messy, but the glitter pen used on yours made him realize that the two of you signed your names yourselves. The realization was heartwarming, and with the revelation, he could see the personality woven into the childish signatures. This was going to end up great.
He couldn’t have been more wrong.
God, he couldn’t have been more wrong. The two of you were endless bounds of energy, like two Tasmanian devils living in his flat. He had thought that the two of you were more human than dog, able to have self-control and discipline like Benjamin had said, but he quickly realized that he adopted two puppies that took a liking to chewing up all the shit in his house no matter how many times he said no. 
But he was a man, a stubborn one at that, and he was determined to give the two of you a forever home.
He’s had to put child-proofing on almost all of his furniture and cabinets so that you two didn’t get into his stuff or shred the legs of all his furniture to shit. Eventually, he had to go back to work, where he’d look the two of you in the eye and say “Be good” like a disapproving father before leaving. No matter what was happening at work, his mind was preoccupied with all the things the two of you could be getting up to. He was starting to think of getting a sitter.
When he came home, his blood ran cold. Pained whimpering. Did somebody get hurt? Was someone in danger? 
He rushed into his house, finding the source of his sudden anxiety spark. You. His jaw grew slack as he saw you straddling Leon’s thigh, the poor pup fast asleep as you rutted against him. “Hey!” He gasped, grabbing your arm and pulling you off of him. “No! That’s bad!” He admonished you, his ears aflame as he watched you whine and squirm in his grasp. He didn’t know what to do, and he would rather go back to Africa than see that again.
“N-No, feels good! I feel funny, and it helps.” You huffed, kicking your legs. 
All the ruckus woke up Leon, his eyes fluttering open as his pupils focused on your whining form. “Huh?” He said softly, sniffing the air and leaning in closer. “Dad… She smells sweet, what’s wrong?” he said thoughtfully, bringing his nose to her crotch and sniffing. 
Oh god. “First of all, I told you, I’m not your Dad. Secondly, you need to back up. She’s…sick.” He said tentatively, not wanting to even think about what she’s feeling right now. “Sick?” You said softly, looking up at him with big eyes and a tail between your legs. 
“You’ll be fine; you just need to stay in your room for a bit to cool off; it’ll feel better.” Maybe if she stays alone for a bit, she won’t go into a full-blown heat… 
That didn’t work. 
You were fine for a bit, cooling down and reporting that the feeling in your tummy went away, but as soon as he brought you to the same room as Leon, you’d complain all over again. He didn’t know what to do, he read about this, but he supposed that it was his fault for not asking more questions about the… condition the two of you were in. Well, he guessed that he should have asked way more questions.
But these were the cards he was dealt, and he couldn’t keep an eye on you forever, so he left work today with a very serious talk to Leon. “Don’t let her touch you, no matter how much she begs. And if you want to nap, please sleep in your room. Alone.” 
Simple, precise, and direct. Of course, he had already told you about what was happening. That it was completely normal, but that it needed to be controlled. He just hoped that you wouldn’t have to suffer for so long. He was already looking up vets to have you spayed.
“Dad said we can’t!” Leon sighed, trying to keep his distance as your sickeningly sweet scent saturated the air around him. He could practically see the way it colored the atmosphere. All pink and flowery and like candy. It made his head spin and cock twitch. Wait, that was new. “But it hurts, Leon! I’m all hot and achey and it’s the only thing that makes me feel better. Don’t you wanna make me feel good?” You pouted, walking closer to him again. Only this time, he didn’t take a step back.
“We’ll be quick, he won’t even know! Dad said it’s normal!” You argued your case, coming in closer and closer. 
“I suppose… You do feel sick.” Leon sighed, sitting down on the couch. You immediately crawled into his lap, whimpering as you pressed your slicked-up pussy against his thigh, the wetness permeating through the pair of soft shorts you wore. Leon groaned, the smell of your arousal making him feel dizzy but good at the same time. “Maybe this isn’t so bad…” He said as you rutted against his thigh. “D-Do you need anything?” He asked, hands hovering over your hips. “You. Oh my god, you smell so good, Leon.” You groaned, burying your nose into his neck and inhaling. 
Leon had no idea what was going on, only that you were sick and maybe he was getting sick, too. His skin felt feverish, and now there was a throbbing in his pants that was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. He was drawn to the scent, not like he needed to be pulled, you were drowning him in it. Choking him with your intoxicating scent that made his hips buck and his mouth water. He knew he should be stopping this before it got too far, but the voice in his head was screaming more, more, more! He groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist in a tight hug, pulling you in closer to rut against his erection. 
“Oh god, yes, Leon!” You sobbed, unsure whether to continue indulging in the pleasure of the now or try and soothe the ache deep inside of you. But you had to, the throbbing was borderline painful.
You slipped out of your shorts, tugging his cock out of his sweats. You didn’t know how, but it was like you knew that this was what you needed, the voice in your head yipping in glee. You paused when Leon whimpered, his hips jerking, jolting you up with him. “That feels good, too?” You asked. 
“Yeah, feels good…” He whined, gripping the fat of your hips. Never in his life has he felt this good, like putting ice on a burn, eating watermelon in the hot summer heat, or eating a sandwich after getting out of the pool. All the static in his brain cleared, and all that was left was the overwhelming urge to do something with you. He didn’t know what, but he felt like this was as close as it was going to get.
God, was he wrong. There was something better, and it was called ‘being deep inside your best friend as she bounced on your lap like a professional pogo stick rider.’
He was cussing like a sailor as you engulfed him, everything coming full circle as he realized that this was what he was meant to do for the rest of his life. Nothing else he would ever do would compare. He was sure of it. Your pussy was like a godsend and he couldn’t get enough. He tightened his grip, snapping his hips up into your sopping heat as he pulled you down, trying to get as deep as possible. It wasn’t enough, there was a missing piece. 
You were a trembling mess, clenching around him and making him whine as he tried to go faster, feeling a ball of something wind up in his chest. “O-Oh my god, Leon, I-I feel something.” You gasped as he groaned, shoving the both of you to the ground as he mounted you. He pushed you into the ground as he arched your back, snapping his hips into you at a brutal pace as his voice grew higher and whinier. “M-Me, too. Wan’it.” He whimpered, moving faster, until he nearly screamed, your pussy clamping down on him as you came. He didn't stop, couldn't stop, the need to fuck you overwhelming. But he didn't last much longer. In just moments, he was cumming ropes and ropes of thick cum into your pussy. The whole thing was overstimulating and honestly a little terrifying. All of the dizziness went away, there wasn't a trace of static, nor was there a voice begging for more. He suddenly felt complete, and that was alarming, not to mention the fact that his dick was swelling inside of you. “H-Hey, are you okay?” He said in alarm. Despite your moans, the feeling of stretching your pussy like this made him nervous.
“So good… Feel so much better…” You mumbled into the hardwood, eyes droopy and body like putty. “That's good…” Leon murmured, finally relaxing with your confirmation and tugging you with him as he flopped to the side, spooning you. He stayed still, his body automatically knowing the process. It was as if he was on autopilot. The thought made him chuckle. He was made to please you.
Chris dropped all his things at the front door when he saw the two of you fast asleep.
“Shit!”
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I love puppy Leon so much it's not even funny. Trust that he will be back for more.
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secretlysamcro · 3 days ago
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CHERRY PIE PT. 1
Female reader x Jax Teller SMUT, explicit language, possible spoilers. if you’re under the age of 18, haven’t finished the show, or dislike any of said topics, please read no further.
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Jax takes a final drag of his cigarette, his whole demeanour radiating confidence. With a slight touch of cockiness, he turns to ask you, “you really don’t think I can do it, huh?” He flicks away the butt, turning his attention back to the fair game, ready to prove his skills.
You can’t help but smile at his confidence, also amused by his unwavering self assurance. It wasn’t the selfish kind, more of a charming quality that made him even more intriguing. “Just get on with it Teller” you teased, “and if you do, I want that one” you point to the giant sized brown bear hanging from the top of the stall.
Jax turns to you, grinning victoriously as he hands you the giant brown bear. His smirk growing larger as he comments “good thing I drove the car” he adds a playful wink at the end.
You let out a coy laugh, “I knew you’d win it, just needed to give you a little push” you joked, enjoying the sight of your new prize. With a thankful smile, you express your appreciation “thank you” you lean into Jax’s side lightheartedly, an embrace without actually wrapping your arms around him.
You stroll through the fairground alongside Jax, only a slight gap in between you both. The giant teddy bear clutched in your grasp. Jax observes you closely, noticing how you seem lost in your own little world, taking in the sights and the details of everything going on around you. As you approach a narrow section of the path, it’s packed tightly with people, Jax gently places his hand on your lower back, guiding you through the waves of bodies. A protective gesture that shows his concern for your safety, and it doesn’t go unnoticed.
He leads you to a less crowded spot, pulling softly on your arm as you escape the crush of the crowd. He leans against a wall, a serious expression now on his face. “I’ve been wanting to apologise to you…” he begins to admit “…I wanted to do something more, you know… conventional but I just have some shit going on with the club and-” you cut him off quickly with a reaussuring smile.
“Jax, this is perfect… honestly, I’m really enjoying myself” you assure him, with your angelic smile.
He releases a sigh of relief, nodding his head in agreement as he realises you are genuinely enjoying yourself. He was a little apprehensive bringing up the club, he thought that it might have bothered you, having been rejected several times in the past due to his involvement with it.
Jax observes your gaze lingering on the Ferris wheel, “You wanna go on it?” He asks quietly, a small smile forming on his face.
“You’ll come on it with me?” You question, with a hopeful tone.
Jax chuckles at your answer “Do I look like the kinda’ guy to make you ride solo?” he pushes himself off the wall now, “how about we put this guy in the car first” he says as he gestures towards the oversized teddy you still have in your arms.
The line for the Ferris wheel is a little long, but the wait doesn’t seem to bother either of you. Jax stands towering behind you, his hands gently resting on your hips, guiding you subtly as the line moves forward. In that moment, is when you become acutely aware of the effect that Jax’s gentle touch has on your entire body. You take note of the tiny hairs on the back of your neck, now raised. Your breathing becoming the tiniest bit laboured and a certain throbbing sensation that is hard to ignore. The intensity of your bodies reaction throws you off slightly, you hadn’t expected such a response from a touch so simple.
"You okay?" Jax murmurs, his breath warm as he leans in, his face nestled against the curve of your neck. What you don't realise is that Jax too, is experiencing the same intense sensations. His mind drifting to other scenarios, which may involve him having his hands on your waist.
You spin round, forcing a calm breath as you try to steady your over racing heart. "Yeah, all good" you smile, although its more of a nervous curve of the lip, your mind scrambling to find something, anything to say. "When's the last time you've been on one of these then?" you ask, hoping he doesn't notice the desire taking over your entire soul.
He chuckles, a knowing glint in his eyes. He can sense something is off with you, but he cant quite put his finger on what. "Its been a while" he responded, as he tries to recall the last time he stepped foot in a fair. As president of SAMCRO, these kinds of moments are fleeting. Jax is usually tangled up in the messier side of life. You laugh softly at his response, knowing full well this isn't his usual scene. "Thought so," you tease, the smirk on your lips clearly playful.
"What's that suppose to mean?" he leans into you mischievously.
"Nothing..." you push back against him softly, the sexual tension getting thicker. "...I just know you're obviously busy with your club...and everything that comes with it" you let him know.
He nods, an understanding smile tugging at the corner of his lips and lets out a easy laugh. "Yeah... well, it ain't easy being King" he lets you know, the humour in his voice masking the weight of everything that comes with the title of President.
You look up at him, your eyes wide and innocent, the flickering fairground lights causing a soft glow. "Maybe you need a Queen to ground you" Jax is momentarily taken back, his focus shifting between the warmth in your eyes and the subtle desire in your expression as he bites his lip, responding to the unspoken tension between the two of you.
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As you reached the peak of the wheel, the gentle sway of the ride somehow made the night feel more intimate. There was a warm glow highlighting the sharp features of Jax's face. His usual confidence was there, but something was different, something softer almost as if he was savouring this moment, away from the chaos of the club and simply existing in this moment, with you.
"Look at me" he says, his voice low and steady. The illuminations from below casting a warm halo around him. The intensity in his blue eyes is strong as they move between your gaze and your lips, lingering for a moment longer before meeting your eyes again. He locks eyes with you, the air thick with anticipation. He goes to close the distance between you both when the ferris wheel suddenly jolts, coming to a sudden stop and you’re both frozen in place as the first kiss you would have shared, slowly slips away.
Jax can sense your nerves, so does his best to reassure you. “Hey, look at me. It’s okay, it’ll start again in a second”. He watches as he notices the hint of panic creeping in. “Come closer” Jax says, pulling you closer and draping his arms around you in an attempt to calm your nerves. Your face is now buried against the patches of his kutte. The rough fabric scratching your skin just enough to feel it, but it doesn’t matter because you finally feel at ease.
“You good now?” He asks as you both make your way back to the car, you feel a tinge of embarrassment for how you reacted but grateful that Jax was there beside you.
You try to mask your embarrassment with a small laugh “I’m all good” you reassure him, though the stolen kiss keeps playing in your mind. As you get closer to the car, you slowly reach for his hand, a silent urge to let Jax know you wanted it too.
Jax opens the car door for you, giving you time to grab the huge Teddy and toss it into the backseat. He lights a cigarette as you’re doing so, the smoke disappearing into thin air as he watches you.
As Jax starts driving, a thought suddenly hits him, without contemplating he turns to you and asks “you wanna’ come see the clubhouse?” You laugh, glancing at him as he keeps his focus on the road, you can see the small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You gonna give me like a VIP tour or somethin’?” You tease.
The smirk on his lips deepens as he nods his head slowly, his fingers smoothing down his beard as if he was in thought. “If that’s what you want” he mumbles, the subtle heat obvious in his voice.
“So I’m just allowed to like…walk in?” You ask, your mind racing a little at the thought of stepping into the Sons Of Anarchy Clubhouse.
Jax can’t help but find your lack of biker knowledge a little charming. “It’s a clubhouse y/n, not a god damn cult” he laughs as he answers you. “Besides, it’s my clubhouse, anyone with my invite is good to go” he adds with a grin as his hand rubs over your leg in a soothing motion, the earlier sensations flooding back, literally.
You hadn’t felt nervous until now. A few days ago, being in the Teller-Morrow garage was the closest you’d ever been into the SAMCRO domain, and now, you were about to step right into the heart of it.
Jax turns left and pulls through the familiar gates. It’s quieter than you had expected, but then again it is nearly 9pm. “Only a few of the guys will be around” he says “it’s Friday, most of them will be at red Woody” he states, as if you’re familiar with their extra curricular activities.
“Red woody?” You question, completely clueless.
Jax shakes his head laughing, “trust me, you don’t wanna’ know” He starts walking towards the entrance, his hand gently guiding you once again.
Jax swings the door of the clubhouse open, gesturing for you to step inside first. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for a taste of a world you knew nothing about, a slice of life that is entirely foreign to you.
The moment your foot steps over the threshold, you’re hit with a thick haze of smoke and the sharp scent of liquor, wrapping you in an intoxicated embrace. You step to the side, waiting for Jax to enter, your nerves prickling against your skin as you feel the weight of the stares from wondering members and a few half-naked women drift past, their eyes lingering on you with a mix of curiosity and distrust. That is, until their eyes land on Jax, and the mood shifts instantly. The glares soften and are replaced by a hint of respect as they realise you’re with the President himself.
Jax picks up on your slight unease and without a word, reaches out. Taking your hand in his. The little gesture grounds you, his touch reassuring. “I feel a little underdressed” you joke, in a whispered tone, as Jax leads you towards the bar. He chuckles, leaning in so only you can hear “Don’t mind them, they’re just croweaters” he can tell from your facial expression that you have no idea what that means, so he adds “they’re just here to please the guys and drink the free booze” as soon as he finished speaking,he realised it came out sounding like he was one of those who actually enjoyed the company of the croweaters. “Not me though” he adds hastily, noticing you laughing as he scrambles to cover his back. “Hmm, how could I be so sure?” You retaliate, Jax takes not of your tone, certain that you’re only messing around.
“Jackie boy!” a voice echoes from around the corner, the accent is unfamiliar to you, but if you had to take a guess, you’d say Scottish. A tall man steps into view, dressed similarly to Jax, though instead of the pristine white trainers, he’s wearing rugged biker boots. His salt and pepper hair pushed back, away from his face, revealing a distinctive scar that stretches from one cheek to the other, almost like a smile.
The two of them collide into a hearty embrace, each giving the other a solid slap on the back, the sound echoing like an encore. As they pull away from the hug, his gaze shifts to you.
“And who’s this tantalising young lady?” He asks with a mischievous grin, waiting for Jax to offer an explanation.
“This is y/n” Jax says with a smile in your direction, and id you weren’t mistaken, there was a hint of pride in his tone. “And this…” he gestures towards the Scotts man “…is Chibs, my VP”
You return a friendly smile. “VP… Vice President” you say, nodding as you recall Jax explaining the title back when you came in to get your car done.
"The one and only" he chuckles, a rouge grin on his lips. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance" Chibs can feel the tension between you both and his instincts telling him that there's more to this than a one night fling. He knows its a rare thing for Jax to bring women to the clubhouse, so its clear he has more than just ill intensions.
A phone begins to ring, Chibs pulls it out, pressing it to his ear. "Yeah.." he rolls his eyes "Well, he's clearly been occupied" his tone shifts, becoming more sharper as he casts a glance towards Jax. "You might wanna take this Jackie" he says, handing the phone over to the President. Jax gives you an apologetic look, mouthing the words 'sorry' before stepping away to take the call.
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Chibs turns to you, checking to make sure you're comfortable. "Jax show you our wall of fame yet?" he asks, trying to fill the silence with something light.
"He hasn't" you reply with a laugh, raising an eyebrow "Do I even want to see what that is?" You already know to expect the unexpected in this place.
He chuckles along with you. "Lets get you a drink first, aye?" he suggests, leaning over the bar. "Anything in particular?"
You're not usually much of a drinker, but then again, you don't usually spend your free time in a notorious biker clubhouse, so why not? You scan the bar, searching for something of your taste. "I'll have a Cuba Libre" you let him know.
"What the hell is that?" he says, his Scottish accent thickening with each word.
You laugh, realising it’s probably just a clash of cultures. "A little bit of rum, a little bit of Coke," you say, still laughing as the words leave your lips, your hands gesturing the little bit you speak of.
His grin widens, as he begins to make your drink. "Well, why didn't you just say that" he cackles to himself. He hands you your drink with a grin "Not too strong, I hope?" he winks as he pops open his own bottle of beer.
"The stronger the better" you joke, lifting your glass and clinking it against his bottle. You take a sip, the drink burning with its strength, You force yourself not to react to the taste in your mouth "You gonna show me this wall then?" you look around, taking in the environment you're currently in.
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"Sorry about that" Jax says as he re joins you both, a beer in hand. "admiring our pretty faces huh?" he chuckles, noticing you and Chibs standing in front of the mugshots belonging to each of the members. Chibs gives you a playful wink, then pats Jax on the back before stepping away, leaving you two alone.
He watches as you take in each individual mug shot, your expression softening with recognition when you stop at a specific one. "That's Harry right?" you ask, your mind drifting back to high school, Jax and Harry being the inseparable two.
He laughs, amused at the fact you're still calling him Harry, even though he's been known as Opie for years. "Yeah, that's our Ope" he smiles, impressed by your memory.
The night continues to flow effortlessly, you and Jax are getting closer with every conversation, sharing looks and touches that linger a little longer than usual. Chibs moving in and out of discussions, always with a quick grin, making sure your glass is always full, and stronger than the last. The alcohol making you feel much more at ease now. You’ve had casual chats with the barely clothed women, met some of the other SAMCRO members, and even spent some time playing darts, loosing to Jax of course. The sense of being an outsider has faded, and you’re starting to feel like you could see yourself being here on the regular.
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Jax leans in closer, his hand resting lightly on your thigh. His ring covered fingers warm against your skin. The faint touch of alcohol and cigarette smoke clings to his breath as he exhales softly. “You Okay, do you need anything?” He asks, his voice low and concerned, a slight touch of protectiveness in his tone.
A soft laugh along with a smile escapes your lips as you lean back into him, his warmth grounding you. You start playing with the rings on his fingers, adjusting them and tracing patterns on his hand. Jax takes a quick glance around and notices the mood starting to fade. Some are too drunk whilst others are distracted with the women offering their advances.
You’ve both enjoyed the company of the others, but Jax feels it’s time for some alone time, just the two of you, and unknown to him, you’ve been thinking the same thing too. He gets up, extending his hand towards you, leading you to a quieter part of the clubhouse. At the end of the short hallway, there’s a blue bike that sits proudly on display. Jax presses three fingers to his lips before gently touching the bike, as if giving it a kiss. It doesn’t take long for your mind to quickly piece together that the bike likely belonged to his late Father.
You tighten your grip on his hand, a little gesture of affection. “Your dad’s?” You ask, curious if he’s willing to talk about him. He answers quickly, keeping it brief “Yeah, that’s JT’s bike” he squeezes your hand in return, a silent signal that he doesn’t want to dive into this topic at the moment. Respecting the unspoken boundary, you quickly shift the conversation “so where are you taking me?” You ask with a laugh.
Jax glances down at you, laughing quietly as he opens another door within the clubhouse. He leads you inside, his eyes locked on yours. Once the door is shut behind you both. He steps closer to you, using his body to gently push you against it. You look up at Jax lustfully waiting for him to make the first move. Your eyes reflecting that you want this just as much as he does.
Your lips crash together in an intense collision, his hands gradually trailing down your face towards your neck, holding you with a firm grip. The kisses begin soft and gentle before turning intense and desperate. Your hands glide smoothly to remove his kutte, as he rushes to take off his own t-shirt. You take in Jax’s half naked body in front of you, your eyes tracing over his tattoo, the scars, and the nearly healed bruises scattered along his rib cage.
He steps forward once again, closing the gap that remains between you, his hand reaching down to slowly pull the zipper on your shirt. He makes sudden eye contact with you, almost as if silently seeking your permission. “please” your voice strains, the desire so close to boiling over, you begin tugging lightly at the waistline of his jeans.
He laughs, a low almost amused sound. All those years ago, it was him pleading for your time, and now the tables have turned. You lean into him, feeling his hard cock rubbing against your thigh, which only serves to heighten your arousal even more. Your hands trail lower, grasping him in your hand, you can feel him twitching beneath the fabric. "you think I’m giving you my dick that easy?” He grins, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, reminding you of all the times you had previously let him down in the past. You bite your lip, realising he’s in it for the long game, you always had a feeling he was the type to tease. With a sudden surge of energy, he lifts you up effortlessly, one of his hands gripping onto to each ass cheek. He strides over to the bed behind him, where he lays you flat beneath the star speckled flag of the USA, a somewhat patriotic scene.
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he gently lifts your shirt over your head, his lips leaving a path of warm kisses down your neck, until they reach the top of your leather mini skirt. His touch against your bare skin sends shivers down your spine, and makes your needy pussy tremble.
as your heavy breathing increases, so does the blood flow to Jax’s cock. He removes your skirt, unveiling the dampness between your legs. Covered by just a small piece of black lace, the moisture clinging to the fabric making it shimmer and almost become translucent. You can feel his hot breath hovering over you, you raise your head slightly admiring what he’s up to. He’s off the bed now, on his knees bowed down in front of you, literally worshipping your cunt. He looks up, catching you watching him. His gaze now locked with yours in a dominant manner. Without breaking the eye contact, he pulls down the thin material of your underwear, your body instinctively submitting to his command. You arch your back slightly allowing him to remove them with ease. “do you know how long I’ve waited to taste your pussy?” He murmurs, practically salivating at the sight of you. The words almost magnetic as your body unconsciously lifts towards his mouth.
He swiftly pushes you back down, his large hand covering your mound with absolute dominance. He then pulls your body closer to the edge of the bed, before he effortlessly folds you into a pretzel like position. The moment his tongue meets your sensitive flesh, you throw your head back into the mattress, huffs and moans leaving your lips. Your unable to control the reaction of your body as your legs push back against his firm grip. His hold loosens as he continues delivering sweet little licks either side of your swollen clit. You feel the disappearance of one of his hands, raising your head slightly again you notice him fumbling with his belt buckle. Releasing his stiff length from the fabric. He begins stroking it, teasing you as he submerges his face back into you. You notice his beard, glistening with your desire whenever he comes up for air. As your neediness becomes more apparent, Jax responds by making his movements more aggressive, rougher and more urgent. He’s tongue fucking you now, teasing your hole with what’s more to come.
“How do I taste?” You ask, between breaths, fully aware you’ll get the exact response you’re hoping for. “So fucking good” he says, as he crawls back onto the bed, licking his moistened lips and hovering over you. “Let me show you” he whispers, kissing you slowly, giving you the chance to taste yourself on his lips.
You can feel the hardness of him grinding against you, knowing he’s doing it on purpose. Teasing you with the feel of blood filled veins, the throbbing making it hard to resist. “Are you gonna make me beg for your dick?” You whisper, your fingers tracing down his tattooed back. His signature grin spreads across his face as he reaches into the top draw. “nah I think we’ve both waited long enough” he mutters, you turn your head to see his hand rummaging through the belongings. His body falls flat on you in defeat, as he realise there isn’t any protection to be found. “Fuck” he says, frustrated, neither of you wanting this moment to slip away. You place your hand against Jax’s face, gently guiding him back to you. “Jax, I trust you” you assure him, your eyes locking with his. He looks back at you, fully understanding the undertone behind your message. “y/n I don’t know if I can trust myself” he admits, unsure if he could pull out in time. You repeat your previous words, “I trust you” with conviction, wanting to make sure he knows you’re equally dedicated to this as much as he is, despite the potential risks.
To be honest, he needed little convincing, as even before the words left your lips, he was already positioned at yours. His desire, as well as yours, had already reached a point of no return. He guides his tip tenderly between your soaked folds, the touch gentle yet deliberate, like an introduction before he proceeds any further. “You think you can handle me?” He asks, in a playful but challenging tone. The question was pointless, he doesn’t even allow you the chance to reply. He shoves himself inside of you with such a pleasurable force it causes your back to arch inches off the bed. Your mouth opens wide, gasping as if you’re trying to inhale all the available air, your chest rising and falling with each desperate breath. Jax is unable to form coherent words as he is consumed by pleasure, his grunts and moans blending together.
He hovers closely over you, but manages to maintain his balance, holding himself up on one elbow as the other holds your face firmly, tracing his thumb along your bottom lip, pushing it slowly into your mouth. It’s clear he’s struggling to form the sentence he’s trying to get out. He bites his bottom lip, snarling at you before saying through gritted teeth “so… fucking tight” he laughs lightly as he finally manages to get the words out, in disbelief he’s finally fucking you.
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It had been a while since you last had sex with someone, and even longer since it felt this fucking good. The connection with you both feels almost soul-tied but that just could be your pussy talking.
He changes position, now perpendicular to your body, holding your waist allowing him to go deeper into you. He watches as his two toned dick slides in and out of you, glistening from your wetness clinging to his body. His thumb is positioned just at the height of your hole, his thumb balanced on his hard piece, enjoying the way it feels as it ploughs into you. His stance is dominant, looking down at you smiling when you both make eye contact. He lowers himself down onto you again, grabbing your left tit, moulding it within his hands, he begins paying attention to your erect nipple, kissing it sloppily, spitting on it and lapping it back up again. Your hand lazily gripping his head, pulling him up towards you. “I only want you to fuck me from now on” you whisper in his ear, all it took was one fuck with Jax to never want to lie with another man again. “I’m only… fucking… you from now” he responds, now paying attention to your neck. He could have just said that because he’s in the heat of the moment, but either way you know you’ll hold it against him.
His thrusts become irregular now, both of you so close to reaching your peak. He pounds into to you, his sensitive tip recoiling off of your G spot. You’re both so in the moment, you don’t realise the voice echoing down the hall.
“JAAAAAX!” The Scottish voice rings out, booming through the thin walls, Chibs walks towards the dorm door, the unmistakable sound of skin meeting skin ringing in his ears. If it wasn’t important he would have let you both be but without hesitation, he knocks on the door. No answer of course - not that either of you would have heard, with Jax being balls deep inside of you. “Jesus Christ” he takes a deep breath, rolling his eyes, preparing for what he’s about to walk into.
“Pull ya dick out Jax! we gotta to go” Chibs looks up towards the ceiling whilst simultaneously banging his fist upon the desk next to the door, trying to avoid seeing anything he shouldn’t, but needing to get Jax’s attention, quickly. “Sorry y/n” he adds a small apology at the end.
The both of you fumble, thrown off by the interruption. Jax quickly moves to straighten the covers, in an attempt to preserve your dignity, he isn’t worried about his own. It wouldn’t be the first time his VP has seen is bare ass. “Chibs! What the hell brother” Jax shouts, pissed off is an understatement.
“I’m sorry, Jackie boy, but we’ve gotta move. Marks is at the warehouse…so is Alvarez” He shoots Jax a knowing look, clearly unable to share more details with you present. “Shit!” Jax retorts. You can tell from Jax’s reaction that this is serious. “Make it quick” Chibs instructs Jax, pointing directly at him, before slamming the door shut, waiting for the president on the other side.
Jax hurries off the bed, throwing his clothes back on. His boxers and jeans pulled on in a frantic rush. You watch from the bed as his messy hair - now tucked behind his ears, still clings to the clammy dew on his skin, some strands still poking out of place, adding to the chaos of the moment.
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For a split second, you almost expect Jax to tell Chibs to fuck off, so that he could get back into bed, back into you, finishing what you had both started. But as you see him yank the laces of his trainers tight, reality hits. “Wait… Jax, you’re really leaving me here… like this?” the surprise obvious in your tone.
Jax bites his lip in frustration, “y/n, babe, I’m so sorry… but this can’t wait… I have to go” he grabs his kutte from the floor, slipping it back on like a suit of armour. “Don’t leave though… please, stay here. I’ll be back… I don’t know when but just promise me you’ll stay” he bends down, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before grinning. He leans in a little closer, whispering into your ear “it was worth the wait” he gives you a subtle wink, before heading out after Chibs, leaving you in the quiet aftermath.
You lean back against the headboard, the covers tucked tightly underneath each arm, protecting your modesty. A nasal laugh escapes you as you shake your head, glancing around the room. One minute, Jax was right here with you, fucking you senseless and then the next minute, he was gone.
As you sit there, processing the madness of the night, a part of you wonders if this is just the start. The chaos, the uncertainty. If you and Jax were to ever become more serious, would this become your new routine?Jax disappearing at the most inconvenient times, off to protect his club as he leaves you behind to wonder when he’d be back.
Perhaps the more tempting road may lead to more heartache.
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photos, gifs & music do not belong to me. Apart from being edited slightly.
I hope I did part 1 justice lol, the amount of times I reread this back and changed 2625 things, would love to hear your feedback.
Please please please request some more Jax stuff!
Jax Teller Masterlist
xoxo secretly samcro
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curiosity-killed · 2 days ago
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curio's chaotic guide to corralling brain squirrels ✨for Capitalism✨
obligatory disclaimer: my only qualifications are having lived with Cocaine Squirrels In My Brain for my entire life and getting the fun experience of people regularly telling me "you can't have adhd, you're too organized/successful/put together" meanwhile i am regularly held captive by my brain zooming through deep dives on cicada facts at 1 AM on a work night
first off, the general overarching bits:
Come in at 70%. I tell this to literally everyone and am stealing it from my sister, but basically—don't come into your job at 100%. That 100% will be taken for granted by you and your coworkers and become the expectation, meaning when you have a day where the brain is holding you hostage or you're tired or hungover or for whatever other reason can only give 50%, it will be a crisis. Come in at 70%, so 50% isn't a huge deal and you can whip out the 100% for some special sparkle times.
Embrace the good bits. look, lbr. cocaine squirrels are not a great time, generally speaking, in a corporate 9-to-5 space. BUT sometimes there are perks. for instance, I am the person you want in a (corporate) emergency because the right pressure (and coffee and high BPM music) makes the squirrels band together and pull some damn good shit off in crunch time. whatever quirk you feel you can leverage, do it.
okay now more squirrel-corralling thoughts (am I doing this instead of my actual job? obviously.)
build a system of systems
okay i know if I say anything about a planner or to-do list, I will be shot on sight but. well. this is about planners and to do lists
I am a chronically aspirational planner user. I love the concept of planners. love to have such a tidy and organized way of going about life. And I can use planners—for about 1-3 months at a time, max.
what I've found works best for me is to have kind of a rotation of task tracking systems: sometimes my planner*, sometimes sticky notes plastered across my desk/wall, sometimes color-coded to do lists in an actual notebook, sometimes color-coded to do lists in my dry erase notebook, sometimes notes on my computer.
I don't think it super matters what you use so much as it matters to have things in place that you can swap to when your brain stops liking the one you're using
*this isn't an ad but I rlly like the Rocketbook planner specifically because it doesn't have a timeframe, so you don't have to worry about "wasting" it during the months you're not using it. just wipe it down and start fresh whenever it's back to being useful
agree to slightly more than you should (but watch out!)
if i have a normal workload, the effort it takes to make myself Do The Thing goes up by about 50% with a negative relationship to the quantity of work. ergo I am best off if I am just slightly overutilized—if I have about 9 hours of work to do rather than 8. That doesn't mean I always work a 9 hour day (because the squirrels and I fucking hate that) but it means there's just a little additional pressure to help make it easier for my brain to, y'know, execute.
THAT SAID, it is really easy to fuck this up. don't be like me and wind up basically doing an entire contract solo (that was supposed to be a 9-person team)!!! it's bad!
mostly i think this is trial and error, so figuring out the right balance for yourself will take getting it wrong some of the time.
the squirrels crave that novelty
this is also related to the first point, but I've found I get more done if I let myself bounce between projects/tasks more than probably makes sense to people who aren't possessed by manic rodents in their brain.
I try to break down tasks in a way that lets me cross something off (dopamine! or. something??) and lets me skip over to something different/novel as a break (e.g., today I need to copy edit a bunch, draft some appendices for a different project, and create an autopopulating tab for an internal project—so I copy edited one whole section, skipped over to the appendices to get a first pass down, hopped back to the next section of copy editing, and then switched to the internal project).
too much of this can feel like playing pinball with your brain, but giving myself the option to switch out into something different helps keep me from getting into the Dreaded Tedium Stage of things
flexibility and structure
this is going to depend some on your work structure, but use what flexibility you can. My work offers a flex schedule, meaning I can take a four hour break in the day as long as I make those hours up somewhere else. I don't. necessarily recommend?? taking a 4 hour break BUT sometimes the squirrels unionize and demand I vacuum the living room, and trying to ignore it and work will be infinitely slower and more exhausting than if I just get up and vacuum and then get back to work. other times, the squirrels stage a sit-in protest and i am stuck scrolling tumblr aimlessly or re-reading fanfic for no reason and then at 8 PM they decide they actually are willing to do The One Goddamn Task i absolutely must do.
it sucks and I genuinely really hate this part of ADHD, but the best option I've found is to sometimes let them win in the moment and come back to the challenge/ask at a better time (for instance, my energy/focus tends to be worst in the afternoon and much better in the evening, so it's easier for me to get something done in the evening than fighting squirrels all afternoon).
...and on the flipside, where you can impose some self-made structure, it can also help get the squirrels in line. calendar holds (i.e., putting an event on your calendar that's just for a task/project and turning on do not disturb for notifications) can help with this if you're able to stick with them (ime this is a skill that has to be built and practiced), organizing things by 'must do' vs 'quick wins' can help, etc. as with everything, it's a process, but finding a balance between where you can flex and where you can lean on structure to help you along has been beneficial to me
anyway idk if any of this is new or helpful but my personal squirrels have been sated and i do. unfortunately. actually need to work now kbye
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pleasantspark · 1 day ago
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HelluvaHazbin Selfaware AU Rewrite: Mammon Sticks It To Beezlebub.
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The room was silent as Mammon stood back, he seemed to be quiet, he tried to ask Leviathan (albeit awkwardly.) about catching up as they haven't been hanging out in awhile at all. But Levi mistook it as him trying to flirt with him.
That's when that fat shaming son of a bitch Beezlebub chimed in. "What's wrong, Mams? Mad because no one will fuck you? Look at how sloppy and disgusting you are."
Mammon's hold on the bucket of chicken he had tightened as his face turned a shade of red, he didn't let it bother him. No. He had better things to do instead of worry about what people said.
"Oh piss off you tosser!" He shouts back at Beezlebub, "Aren't ya the one who indulges in yerself? I thought the point of Gluttony was to pig out! Why are ya JUST now directing your disdain of me, a male indulging in my whims? I'd thought you of all people would be in support of it, or is it because rules of thee does not apply to me."
Silence.
It was far worse silence then Fizzarolli attempting one of the many, many, many tricks he had him perform only for the same imp to fail each and every time leaving Mammon to punish said imp for failure. Something he never liked to do, but had to do. Something he regretted.
The Silence dragged on until Asmodeus' smooth voice broke them from their respite.
"Actually, Mammon is, correct. Morally speaking why do you get to decide if what he was indulging in is gross? Come to think of it, aren't we all sins? Aren't we all just bad people?" Asmodeus asked.
"I have never thought to see the day where Asmodeus sees eye to eye with Mammon of all people." Satan rolled his eyes.
"Hey, we may have bad blood back from the days of the circus, and how he treated Fizz, but I won't hesitate to call out hypocrisy. I just don't get why it's okay for other people to do things that Mammon's doing, but when they do it, it's morally acceptable."
"Sometimes there's no real logic in way things work Asmodeus, sometimes you just have to accept that things are the way they are. This may be Hell, but that gives no excuse for people to be disrespectful to those without warning. Reminder, Hell doesn't give you the excuse to be far worse. You are your own person. You're not some person in a show that was centered around one point before turning into a literal fanfiction. Or written by someone who lacked basic actual context clues. You are a being that is in control of his own actions."
As Satan says this, the group looked towards the screen. Before turning back to their own works.
"It feels like I am written by someone who lacks basic understanding of nonce who thinks that all Aussie's are evil mustache twirling POS who are fat and unoriginal." Mammon said.
Before anyone can answer. The door opened, Satan expected Stolas to arrive but what he didn't expect was one of his kind, an imp.
"Who is this?" Satan asked, as the imp made her way up to Mammon and sat on his lap. She gave him a kiss on her cheek.
"Oh her?" Mammon smiled, "This is my wife, Seraphina."
Watching as Beezlebub's mouth drop open, and Mammon spoke again.
"Now, what was that about how, 'No one will fuck me' Bee?"
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A/N: I hope you liked it, if you are all aware, my AU (the self aware au) is supposedly gonna affect everyone BUT Stolas, as this is meant to be for shits and giggles. This is tied to my @seraphinacriticizes and @mammoncriticizes accounts, I generally wanna get into rewriting the series and redesigning them. So if anyone wanna work together feel free to ask me in inbox or dms! I wanna work on redesigning everyone and adding new characters + characters from Zoophobia! The Criticize Blogs are somewhat of a group effort, I know I left the critic community but I would be around somewhat to talk about critical stuff or even making rewrite/redesigns! Let me know how this was.
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kwamiwayzz · 3 days ago
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Class of '09 Fic Rec List
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(Art by Phrogpole on Twitter)
I created a doc sometime ago that included fic recs outside of Jecka/Nicole, but it ended up getting to a point where I started adding fics for pairings that I haven't read (or if I'll even read). It started feeling less honest, and I didn't want to bullshit it. So, now I'm creating this to include any fics I've read that I enjoyed or thought were good/well-written.
General:
Nicole-Fucking-Yu by VirginiaBurke - A fic that starts off similarly to the games, but Nicole is half-Asian. As someone who follows the Wasian Nicole headcanon pretty hard, this was such fun read. Unfortunately, it's incomplete, and I'm not sure if the author plans on updating it or finishing it. It's an interesting character study as well since Nicole's added minority status puts an extra layer to how she interacts with others and how others interact with her.
Solemates by Queen_Bae - Formatting issues aside, I think for the author’s first fic, this had some of the best characterization of Nicole that balances between maintaining her cluster B behavior with some of her more sympathetic traits. It also manages to merge two routes from Flip Side in a satisfying way that makes the canon version feel more like fanfiction than this one.
Life’s Like This by nutal - For people who just played Flip Side and were devastated by that one ending where Jecka left Nicole hanging, this is for you. The dialogue of Jecka trying to convince Nicole not to off herself was pretty funny and sweet. It's also considered a friendship fic which was why I didn't include this in my previous Jeckole fic rec lists.
Aricole:
I Won’t Lose (You) by ThaneOfVainglory - It's a Dead Dove fic in the sense that the themes and abuse are very heavy here. This is a canon divergent fic where Nicole tries to convince Ari to keep dating her after the counselor gave Ari the unintentional revelation that she was in an abusive relationship. Don't expect any happy endings for any character here, including Nicole, because the whole atmosphere of this fic hones in very closely on how vile Nicole can be. Personally, it may not be my favorite version of her, but reading the descent of their relationship was so interesting. If you're looking for a dark fic, especially an Aricole one, this one is for you.
Fishing For Love by ThaneOfVainglory - Ari and Nicole go on a fishing trip with Ari's dad. As usual, Nicole is an asshole here. What's new? But I think what I liked about this fic was how the codependency was written, even if it was only stated (not exactly shown) when Nicole was talking to Ari's dad. Despite Nicole being demeaning to Ari, Ari doesn't mind it (to an extent; or maybe she continues to gaslight herself, who knows). She's trying to work shit out in her fucked up brain, but the thought of being alone terrifies her to no end.
In Sickness And In Health by ThaneOfVainglory - I mostly thought the way the Aricole dynamic was written was pretty interesting. Ari falls ill, and it's the one time Nicole thinks to herself if she actually cares about her through all the abuse.
Off Target by Progman - The dynamic here is as fucked up and toxic as it gets for Aricole. Maybe not to the same degree as how ThaneOfVainglory writes them, but close enough.
Emicole:
Ecstasy by uxugxrl - As someone who doesn't really read a lot of Emily/Nicole, this fic captured Emily's unmedicated BPD brain pretty well (at least in my opinion). Emily worships the ground Nicole walks on, yet won't hesitate to slice her if she as so much seems to be looking down on her.
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xxelliewxx · 22 hours ago
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Fire and Frost {Ellie x Reader} Ch. 2
Pairings: loser!(AFAB)Reader x hockey player!Ellie
Synopsis: When y/n is requested to tutor Ellie Williams in organic chemistry, she expects arrogance and attitude from the hockey player. However, she discovers a different aspect of Ellie’s tough exterior, revealed through humor and fleeting glances. This raises the question: why does Ellie go to great lengths to embarrass and harass y/n whenever they are in the presence of others?
Warnings: Mentions of depression, anxiety, sexual/physical assault, alcohol, violence, trauma (if I miss any let me know!)
w/c: 2.4k
an: this is my first time ever posting fanfic on Tumblr, so feedback is completely welcome! this is not proofread and is a work in progress.
Ch 1: Iron Bonds
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Carbon Memory
The Chemistry Club frequently served as your refuge where you could momentarily escape your past and current traumas. Serving as the President of the club was something you took pride in, using your position to inspire a deeper love and understanding of such a complex topic. You excelled in event planning, frequently jotting down ideas on your iPad for potential projects to showcase throughout the campus, aimed at attracting new members to the club. With only 15 members to represent, the chemistry club lacked funding to continue its meetings.
Dr. M was confident that you would discover a means to secure additional funding to maintain operations, and her trust in your capabilities rendered failure an impossibility. This is why you found yourself scribbling idea after idea, hoping to promote them at tonight's meeting. Dina, your friend since Freshman year, hovered over your shoulder, providing unwanted commentary, and scoffing at some of your ideas.
"Wow, Y/N, I always knew you were a bit of a nerd, but I didn't realize it was to this level! A scavenger hunt based on the periodic table? Seriously?"
You let out an exasperated sigh at your friend, quickly grabbing your iPad from her grasp and shielding your work, desperate to put an end to the relentless chatter. "Just leave me alone, D. If you're not going to offer the support and ideas you promised, you might as well spend time with Jesse, which is clearly what you prefer."
Dina swatted your arm playfully before taking the seat next to you, glancing at the iPad once more. "Fine, Y/N, I'm just messing with you. Sheesh, what has your panties in a wad?"
You shot her a fierce look, placing the apple pencil aside with a thud. "Dina, I am really not up for this right now. Especially now that I will be losing my mornings to that insufferable Ellie. I can't believe Dr. M would do me dirty like that." You threw your hands up in frustration.
Dina's eyebrows arched high, nearly disappearing into her hair as she exclaimed, "She what?! Seriously, Ellie didn't say a word about this during morning skate yesterday. She always jumps at the opportunity to shit-talk you."
Your jaw dropped at her remark, "Fuck you, Dina." You smacked her shoulder, defensively, fully aware she was just trying to get a rise out of you. Yet, deep down, you knew there was a grain of truth in her jabs. It was no secret that the captain had a strong dislike for you, a mystery you had long since stopped trying to unravel.
Dina giggled, munching on some Twizzlers she produced from her backpack, using it to point at your face. "You know, sometimes I wonder if she just actually want's to fuck you. I mean, seriously, she brings you up far too often. Anytime she brings you up, Coach makes her do suicides in full gear."
You felt a warm flush creep up your cheeks at your friend's teasing remarks, a whirlwind of images flashing through your mind that you desperately tried to banish. "Oh, come on, D, I just want this semester to end. I seriously doubt she'll be in any of my classes again, she's barely passing this one."
The thought of never seeing the auburn haired girl again stirred a whirlwind of feelings within, with relief rising to the forefront. You could daydream. Huffing, you glanced at your watch seeing it was quarter to 8, your nose wrinkled. "Speaking of, I have to go meet Williams in the library in a few. Please text me some of your ideas, I really need your help."
Shoving your iPad into your backpack, you quickly grabbed the Twizzler from Dina's grasp, savoring the sweet, chewy treat. Dina shot you a fierce look, saying, "You're lucky you're my best friend. Have fun on your date." Her eyebrows danced playfully, hinting suggestively.
"Fuck you," You muttered under your breath, slinging your backpack over your shoulder as you left the dining hall. Each step toward the library felt heavy, a sense of dread creeping in with every footfall. This was far from the semester you had envisioned; you were determined to steer clear of the girl as best as you could.
As you checked the time on your watch, a wave of panic washed over you; you were already late for your first tutoring session, and you could already imagine the endless teasing that awaited you. With a swift motion, you pushed open the heavy oak doors and swept your gaze across the study hall. There she was, lounging in the far corner, her feet casually resting on the table as if she owned the place. You couldn't help but roll your eyes as you approached her, noticing her engrossed in scribbling doodles in her notebook.
"You sure know how to keep a girl waiting, don't you, geek?" Ellie kept her gaze fixed on her notebook, playfully teasing without even glancing your way. The nickname that was supposed to be sweet ignited a fire of anger within you, as it was evident that it was being wielded as a tool for mockery rather than affection.
Shoving her feet off the table, you brushed aside her piercing gaze, which was locked onto you with an intimidating animosity, as you began to arrange your study materials. "Not everyone can lounge around looking cool all day while Mommy and Daddy pay for everything, many of us are tied down with responsibilities and jobs."
As you dug into the depths of your backpack to retrieve your textbook, a heavily tattooed hand suddenly crashed down onto its cover, making you flinch in surprise. "Do not speak about me as if you fucking know me. Mention my parents one more time and I will fucking end you."
Your heart raced, and your eyes widened as you struggled to keep your gaze locked with the hockey player. After enduring months of torment, you had resolved long ago to hold your ground with her, and today was no exception. "You need me just as much as I need you so I suggest you get used to the idea of me."
Her hand rested on your textbook, veins pulsing with fury as it shook before she clenched it into a tight fist. "I have no desire to see you as anything other than the loser geek who assisted me in keeping my grades up. To me, that's all you will ever be—nothing beyond that."
You fumed, "I don't know what world you're living in where I have any intention of getting to know you, don't flatter yourself. You see, Ellie, this is your problem is that you have such an inflated ego, thinking that everyone and everything exists just to cater to you."
She leaned back in her chair, arms folded tightly, her fingers twitching as if battling the urge to punch you. With her teeth clenched, Ellie shot back, "Like you said, you need me just as much as I need you. So let's get this over with."
You flipped open your textbook, deliberately avoiding her piercing gaze, silently wishing for this session to pass in a blur. "What are you having trouble with in this class? It's been pretty straightforward until now."
Ellie exhaled loudly, reaching for your wrist that was currently flipping through the pages. "Seriously, dork, if you want this to be as painless as possible you'll cease to insult my intelligence. I get the fundamental ideas; I'm not a fucking moron. I bombed the last test because I struggle with equations, and those organic reactions totally tanked my score."
Throwing your hand out of her grasp, Ellie pulled out her notebook you had been admiring the other day, finding the doodles to be adorable. Adorning the tattered cover were whimsical illustrations inspired by the cosmos and clever wordplay. One particular pun caught your eye: an otter, fishing pole in hand, pulling in a fish with the playful phrase, "I'm Otterly Hooked." You couldn't help but giggle, stifling the sound with your hand.
Ellie quirked an eyebrow, the one with the slit in it that you found oddly appealing, her expression a mix of curiosity and confusion over the cause of your sudden outburst. "Is there something I am missing? What's so funny about me completely wrecking my GPA?"
You could feel her irritation rising as you hurriedly clarified your reasoning to diffuse the escalating tension. "Sorry, but I can't help it—your notebook is adorable! I really enjoy a twist on words."
The hockey player's shoulders visibly eased, the weight of her tension lifting with your confession. She massaged the back of her neck and said, "Yeah, me too," before clearing her throat. Turning her attention back to her test, she focused intently on the red marks scattered across her paper.
An unexpected ease settled in, almost like you guys finding a shared interest on such a mundane subject broke the ice just a little bit.  A grin spread across your face when you noticed the same spark of amusement in the girl with forest-green eyes. Inspiration struck as you hastily pulled out your iPad. The other girl raised an eyebrow at your actions, clearly curious about your next move.
Sticking your tongue out you scribbled out your own version of word-play, exhilaration surging through you. A soft giggle escaped your lips as you added the final details to your artwork, then, with a mix of excitement and nervousness, you placed the device down, eager for Ellie to admire your masterpiece. Leaning herself forward, Ellie chuckled. On your iPad was a shark giving a thumbs-up, bubbles spelling out "Fintastic".
"As much as I love punny jokes, I really need to get some studying done before morning practice," she sighed. "Coach is already breathing down my neck about how I'm 'not demonstrating leadership qualities with my poor grades,'" she said, deepening her voice to mimic her coach, complete with exaggerated air quotes.
You found yourself instinctively extending your arm across the table, taking her hand in yours, a wave of sympathy washing over you. "Even if you stumble on a few tests, it doesn't define your ability to lead. I can see, despite our differences, that you genuinely care for the people around you."
Ellie stopped breathing as she looked down at your hand, as fragrant tendrils of lavender rose to her nose in powerful bursts. You purchased a vial of lavender oil the very night following your encounter, discovering a deep sense of comfort in its soothing aroma. Ellie shook her head vigorously, pulling her hand away from yours with a huff. "Stop pretending you know me, you dork," she muttered, irritation lacing her words.
You couldn't help the hurt that flooded your chest at her actions, making it feel like for every stride you made, you were being pulled two steps back into the shadows. "Whatever, Ellie. Just give me your test packet, I can draw up some practice equations."
Taking the paper from her grasp, you found yourself pleasantly surprised by her handwriting, which you had anticipated to be a jumbled mess. Instead, it was surprisingly tidy and even quite lovely. As you scanned through her incorrect answers, the source of her errors started to become clear. She was neglecting the solvent reactions, a detail that could be easily adjusted.
You looked up at Ellie, noticing her fingers gently gliding over the tattoo on her forearm, which peeked out from under her hockey sweatshirt. The name "Ellie Williams" was elegantly inscribed in flowing cursive across her right chest, accompanied by the school mascot nestled beneath it, her muscles subtly flexing beneath the fabric. Ellie sensed the weight of gazes upon her and locked eyes with you, her expression devoid of any feeling, as if she possessed the power to erase all traces of emotion, making you shiver.
Clearing your throat, embarrassed at being caught staring you asked, "Ellie, do you remember SN1 vs. SN2 or E1 vs. E2?"
Ellie's brows knitted together in confusion as she shook her head. "No, I don't. Was that part of the test?" As she reached for her paper, her finger brushed against yours while she held onto the packet. She appeared completely unfazed by the contact, but you felt a rush of emotions from that fleeting touch, struggling to suppress the stir of feelings it ignited within you.
Ellie's confusion morphed into frustration as she flung the paper onto the table between you two, her arms crossing defiantly, a familiar gesture of hers. "When the fuck did we learn this? I feel like I would have remembered that shit."
Reflecting on the time when the hockey player was missing from the lecture hall, you pinpointed the date when this chapter was covered. "We went over this two weeks ago, right at the end of September. But you weren't around," you said softly, the last part slipping out almost shyly, not wanting to make her uncomfortable with how closely you had noticed her attendance. She had been absent for a whole week, and even her friends were left in the dark about the reasons for her disappearance.
You had failed to be discreet as she instantly caught on to your observation. "How do you remember when I was or wasn't in class," Ellie asked, her tone surprisingly warm rather than angry, as if she appreciated your attention. The flicker of warmth quickly vanished as she shook her head. "Whatever, it's not a big deal, I will just talk with Dr. M and this whole arrangement can be finished."
Ellie didn't pause for your response; she sprang to her feet, shoving her books and notes into her backpack with a sense of urgency. In a whirlwind of emotion, she dashed out of the library, leaving you in a state of turmoil. The air around you felt heavy with silence as you sat there, rooted to your chair, struggling to muster the strength to move. Confusion swirled in your mind, and it wasn't until you finally resolved to gather your belongings that you began to erase any trace of your encounter, clearing the table as if to wipe away the memory of her presence.
As you reached for your iPad to lock the screen, your gaze was caught by a whimsical illustration beside your shark. There, next to the fierce creature, was a cheerful seal donning a festive party hat, joyfully proclaiming "Sealebration." The image stirred a wave of melancholy within you, a reminder of the frustration you felt over her unwillingness to engage with you civilly, despite the undeniable connection that seemed to linger between you.
A message pinged, shattering your focus on the scene before you. You grabbed your phone, heart racing with the hope that it was from a particular athlete. Your enthusiasm fizzled out the moment you saw Dina's name flashing on your notifications.
Dina: How about a Periodic Table Fashion Show! We could call it "Atomic Fashion" or "Noble Gas Glam"
For once, you didn't find amusement in a pun.
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basicbats · 13 days ago
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the way I shrieked speedy just now
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rambles-about-minecraft-ocs · 10 months ago
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one of my favorite things about zedaph is that on a server full of people that find strange and oft-overlooked minecraft mechanics or rare events and then see just how far they can push them in the name of spectacle or efficiency or world-breaking, zed is over here finding these mechanics in order to do the weirdest things he can think of in as entertaining a manner as possible
like i 100% have faith in zedaph's theoretical ability to be just as efficient or spectacular or world-breaking. if he wanted to do that stuff, i trust that he absolutely could. but thats so far from being his priority. instead, hes going to spend around a week of irl time focused entirely on eventually having the good luck to spawn in something insanely rare so that he can convert it into something even rarer, the result of which being something that 99% of the server reacts with complete and utter shock that it even exists in the first place, just because its zany and funny and he wanted to. and i love that
#zedaph#hermitcraft#genuinely i adore the clucky few project im not even done watching the episode and i had to pause and make this post#i saw impulses video first and went ''that HAS to be some sort of datapack or something-''#only to immediately go ''no. no it cant be. because this is zed#and its practically a trademark of his to push the limits of the game as far as possible in the direction least expected#not for the purpose of efficiency or spectacle or intimidation or whatever like some players who push limits#but purely for the purpose of making something so funny you cant help but laugh at whats going on#and maybe being a bit impressed that he ever thought of it in the first place''#at which point i went ''holy shit. since its zed doing this. somehow he ACTUALLY got a villager on a chicken. with no cheats. thats INSANE'#i was relieved when i checked my subscriptions to see what the next video i had to watch was and saw he would be next in line#bc if i had to sit through 19 other hermits videos before i could watch his and find out what the fuck he was doing i would have been so sa#sidenote but i feel like a zed video where he interacts with this many other people all in the same video is so rare#idk i didnt watch season 9 and i know he started collabing a lot more w/ other hermits then#so maybe its not nearly as rare these days#but like the last one that *i* saw where he interacted with this many people at once was towards the end of season 8#when all the people he experimented on earlier in the season came back to experiment on him#and like i would like zeds videos with or without the collabs. but its a lot of fun to see him interact with people#so its very cool to me when he does it with a lot of people all in the same video
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jonahfisher · 2 days ago
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from what he saw earlier, judah was giving this man a run for his money but leave it to jonah to figure that would work itself out. he didn't join in unless he needed to and time and time again, who judah did or didn't like didn't necessarily translate to him and vice versa. they may have shared a womb, but everything else wasn't much different than regular siblings. hell, they didn't even share the same birthdate (only due to the late hour they were both born, but still). he had a different approach to some things, funny as it was though, jonah was usually the one to dislike most people over judah.
"good news does come out of manhatten after all then," he offered the man a crooked smile while he poured him his drink. a brow raised when ashton started to answer his question, he leaned forward after the start, waiting for him to finish his thought. jonah was shocked he was so invested and when the answer came he sulked his expression and shoulders with disappointment. "very descriptive, my dude. i often think of things too. but didn't this thing just get started. why would it end already?" unless these people were truly that lame and ended shit before ten. go figure grandpa wexley would be the type to go to bed and expect the same from everyone else. "yeah jonah, you spying on me or somethin'?" it was part a joke and part real. at that point he wasn't convinced this place had people watching everyone. he was still waiting for the brainwashing seminars to start. "nice to meet you. we're settling in okay, i guess. still not home if that's what you're asking but i think my brother is enjoying himself." he looked around in time to see judah duck under a table and rolled his eyes. "what do you do here, besides the bartending volunteer shit?" the drink wasn't bad, he'd had worse and wasn't sure he would've done better. beggars can't be choosers and all that.
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The Fisher twins had very different approaches to getting their drinks, that's probably how Ash was differentiating them tonight. Judah had been nothing but an annoyance at the bar constantly calling him blondie looking for a drink to fix. While Jonah.. has just been sitting by the bar, drinking one beer that came from the diner. Ash wouldn't blame him for not wanting to interact with Ash, with the first impression he made they day they arrived. It was hard to shake of the immediate suspicion, considering what they just came back from at the beach, Ash was thinking worst case scenario, the raiders would've infiltrated with their own, and the Fishers had impeccable timing. Though a week or so passed and they haven't proven to be anything but clueless of what transpired between them and the raiders. Still Ash can't help but have a guard up until he could be absolutely sure. Jer didn't seem to recognize them from the group he was with at least anyways.
Considering the other brother had been nothing but a nuisance, Ash gave Jonah the space to hang by the bar, as if existing separately in the same space while they both went about their business, and he was almost caught off guard once Jonah cleared his throat to catch his attention while he.. watched the night go by. "Of course, we got rum, we got coke." He looked through of the rum bottle before turning back to Jonah with a fresh glass between them. "Me? I.." Ashton didn't expect Jonah to ask further questions beyond getting his drink, catching Ash in an unknowingly vulnerable state in his own head moments ago and the walls were still building back up, Jer and Sada still visible out of the corner of his eyes. "I'm alright, just.. thinking. About things, and when the party would end," Ash focused on making the drink instead with a polite smile. He stirred within the glass before pushing it to him as the ice settled, "Jonah, right? Ashton," he took a guess at which twin it was, to properly introduce himself this time, "you settling in okay?"
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project-sekai-facts · 18 days ago
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do u think prsk writing is good?
it's inconsistent. sometimes it's pretty good, sometimes it's not so good. this is something i would like to go way more indepth on but i don't think i'll have the time for a while, but i'll outline a few things here.
honestly early events are much stronger than some more recent ones. partially this is preference on my part due to preferring more character driven stuff which most early events were, but also in general the writing was much higher quality.
most year one events had a very strong sense of flow between them that has been lost over time. while events usually revolved around one character's issues, they would introduce aspects of the other characters and their issues which would be focused on later. if you read wonder halloween you'll notice there's foreshadowing for emu's arc across smile of dreamer and wonder magical showtime. this is partially because of the fact the events were so early on. we weren't as familiar with the characters as we are now and we were also new to the plots. you can also see how much more cohesive stories were back then as well because of there being way more mixed events marked as key story, like twilight parade and sakura for ln and picnic for n25. while most events still pick up from where the previous left off the sense of flow for most units just isn't felt as strongly as it was going through, say, l/n arc 1.
it also in some ways feels like the writers had a much stronger vision for early events than they do now, though distribution meta may come into play a bit. first arcs were the ones planned from the getgo. this is what they had already planned ahead for by launch. pretty much everything past year 1 was written after the game launched. we know they have a clear end, and it's evident they also had a clear start. we're currently filling in the middle and some events really feel like there's a slight lack of vision for the middle. vbs is a good aversion what with rad weekend having happened (aside from arata and souma's arcs lmfao), but other units and characters feel shafted.
to add to that last point as well as distribution meta. tsukasa5 is arguably one of the hardest hit. what seems to have happened is that they needed a second wxs event to focus on daigo's troupe, and tsukasa is the character who is most fitting for that troupe's speciality. unfortunately in order to come up with the actual plot, they had to retcon elements of tsukasa's character. tsukasa5 overall is probably one of the worst written of the recent events. it's really rough and doesn't make sense in some parts. it truly just exists bc they needed a wxs event with daigo and a wxs event in that slot.
kanade is another character who got hit hard. while she had the white day event in 2024, she was heavily shafted in terms of n25's story due to the focus being on mizuki and ena for half the year. mafuyu and ena's events were also very focused on them as individuals, leading to kanade getting like no character development for a year.
for non-2024 examples the 2nd arc enders were a mixed bag. step by step is very clearly a shoe-in because they needed to pad for time. retie functions perfectly well as an arc ender and reads like one in a few places, especially near the end. while minori had some good moments in this event it honestly feels like a mixed event. hell look at the banner card. shizuku and airi are also only in this event for a few lines of dialogue it's really rough.
oyf is incredibly rushed and tries to wrap up way too many loose ends from lutf. it feels like this arc was cut short, and you can really feel it in arc 3 when all the loose ends that still existed after oyf get their proper conclusion. side characters barring kotaro excluded, tatsuya and gurney flap had the shittest resolutions ever (tatsuya is also. barely a character lol). kohane had some good moments here, but other than that it was a really weak event.
same can be said for ohe they really needed more time and it's painfully obvious considering how much foreshadowing they did with rui only for... him to get one chapter in an emu event. there's some other things that really make this feel like it was meant to be rui or be two events one rui one emu, like the travelling troupe show. remember when rui wrote that show about his life and wxs rewrote it to show him he had a place with them. clpl doesn't. obviously it's always been important to all of them but it's significance to rui specifically has always been highlighted for obvious reasons. hell it was even mentioned in wxs first live like a couple weeks before this event dropped. while again this has good emu moments and good wxs moments it's painfully obvious at points that this was either a rui focus at one point or they combined two events. i wonder if part of the reason for that is because they realised that rui graduates at the end of the next arc so "wxs disbandment arc 2" (tentative name) will probably be more centered around him, especially with asahi's return looming over the story, and they didn't wanna make it seem like they did the same character arc with him twice.
sayonara persona and starry song are fine.
clpl really fucked themselves over with wles and the event schedule lol.
another issue with the writing from a technical standpoint is that recent events have really obnoxious exposition. listen i know we all make fun of people who only read chapter 1 and 8 of an event but did you know that actually works. you can sometimes even just read chapter 8. there's this need to constantly remind the player of stuff that happened earlier on in the event, sometimes in gratuitous detail, and i can understand why this might be necessary for the really long events like lutf or curtain call, but most events since 3rd anni have been under 1hr 30, in most cases just over an hour. the player can retain significant events that happened in the previous chapter. we don't need it constantly explained and it can actually make the audience less engaged if you constantly treat them like they don't understand what's going on. even for a game aimed at the tween/teen demographic you don't need to handhold them through the story. while yes younger audiences won't have the same literacy as an adult you should also trust that they can follow the basic story and read into basic subtext (honestly prsk is usually fine with subtext this is just an example).
"outline a few things" my ass this is pretty much everything i wanted to say. i do games writing next year and i think we cover VNs so maybe i can provide more insight then if the blog isn't dead.
(obligatory i'm not saying you can't like the events i outlined here i'm just saying that from an objective standpoint they're not the best. doesn't mean you can't find enjoyment in them. like whatever you want i'm not here to dictate your opinions)
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