#and it was said that twilight consumed him

[natp20]

huh

[lookitsaworm]

I think everybody should put all of the characters from their favourite fandom into Tomodachi Life so they can see who everybody would end up with and so they can see their favourite characters do weird shit.

[stardusksx]

ೀ⋆｡ ˚ ALWAYS COME HOME. aaron hotchner x bau!reader

summary: hotch seems to be doing everything in his power to get hurt, and that scares you. ( takes places directly after the events of 5x02 )

not my gif! credits to creator <3

warnings: angst, fluff, bau!reader, established relationship, reader is a touch insecure in the relationship but hotch reassures, f*yet, no use of y/n, mentions of self-destructive/suicidal behaviour, arguments, happy ending because i’m not self-destructive :) ( word count: 1.85k )

You didn’t know how late it was, just that the sky had long since darkened and your body ached from the seemingly endless day. But it wasn’t the twilight hour that had drained you— it was watching your boyfriend carelessly stride into a hostage situation like he was simply going to get some groceries.

He hadn’t said anything to you about his plan. Hadn’t said anything to anyone. Instead, you had to stare at his back— devoid of a bullet vest— in disbelief as he disappeared into a house occupied by a child serial killer and his son, the unsub who had been profiled as mentally unwell and unstable. It had been too late to stop him, too late to ask him just what in the hell he was thinking.

You could ask him now. But you didn’t have the energy to argue, so instead you said nothing. You quietly shrugged off your coat as he followed you into the shared apartment, hanging it on one of the pegs.

“It’s a bit late to cook anything, do you want to order in?” he asks, lingering in the doorway.

You hummed noncommittally, placing your bag on the table and unpacking a few items you’d need to put back in the safe later.

He paused. You tried to act like there was nothing amiss. “Or we could get the lasagne out of the freezer that Jessica brought over last week?”

“Whatever you want.” You respond, and the silence lingers for a few contemplative beats. You don’t glance up at him.

“Are you angry at me?”

You inhale, hands halting in their movements. You hadn’t expect him to bring it up— he’d been one track minded lately, so consumed by foyet that you’d started to think something trivial like you giving him the cold shoulder would fly under his radar. And even if he had noticed it, you didn’t think he’d care. With losing his son, being taunted by a serial killer, you wouldn’t blame him for having little capacity for anything else.

You look at him. His brows are furrowed. You look away.

“I’m fine. ” You answer simply, going back to racking through your bag for something— what, you weren’t even sure now, but some insecure part of you didn’t want to have this conversation. Like he had bigger things to be concerned about than your feelings, and you could already see how it was going to go down. He was hard to reason with when he was like this.

But he also wasn’t one to let things go unresolved. He spoke your name pointedly. When you glanced at him, he hadn’t moved from his position near the door, briefcase discarded by his feet.

“Fine. Yes, i’m angry, Aaron.” You continue rooting around your bag, “What you did was reckless, and you could have been hurt or—” you could have been killed. It hangs in the air between you, unsaid but obvious. Over a month had elapsed since he’d been hospitalised after the foyet’s attack, and you hadn’t really had an outlet for all of the fear that had flooded you over those days. It hadn’t been about you— he was the one who needed the comfort, or, well, as close to comfort as Hotch would accept. In reality, he’d been so focused in on finding Foyet from the minute he woken up that you hadn’t even had a moment to express it to him. And that was okay. Really, it hadn’t been about you. But god, when there was a moment you didn’t know if he’d ever wake up, it was the worst you had ever felt in your life.

He was quiet for a moment before he said, in that blasé way of his, “But i wasn’t.”

The words infuriated you. A sharp burst of anger clawed it’s way through your veins, you whipped around to face him. And there he stood— arms folded, brows furrowed in that assessing way of his. Sometimes, just a little bit, you hated how stoic he could be.

“But you could have been!” You snapped, “Obviously, seeing you walk in there like you have nothing to loose is a fucking problem to me, Aaron. It's like you’re trying to get killed. So i’m not just angry, i’m terrified. As if worrying about Foyet being after you isn’t enough, you're purposely putting yourself in harm's way.”

He watched you for a moment, giving away nothing. But you’d learned him over the years, know the way that he thinks. Even when he isn’t talking, isn’t blinking, you could tell what was going on in his head. Yet, sometimes, you needed him to show you. It was exhausting always having to infer. “I made a call,” He spoke your name like he was reasoning with you, “It’s what i thought was best in the situation, and i’ll admit that the outcome wasn’t what i’d hoped for. But I stand by it— someone needed to try and get through to the unsub.”

“I don't think you gave it much thought at all, actually.” You bit back sharply, taking a step towards him, “No vest, no conferring with the team, no communication about your choice of actions. Tell me, what is best about that? Because i’m god damn sure that a couple of months ago you would have never done something so erratic.”

And there it was— the topic you’d been tiptoeing around, what this was really about. No one wanted to dictate how he was navigating everything with Foyet, but as time ticked by, his actions were starting to become more and more worrying. Of course, all of it was going to affect him. But this was a path of self destruction.

“Well a couple months ago I made calls that led to a bus full of people being murdered and Morgan knocked out cold while a psychopathic serial killer could have quite easily ended him. So, excuse me if I had to make some adjustments.”

“So that’s it? You expect me to just watch you put yourself in harm's way and pat you on the back afterwards? Great. That’s just perfect, Aaron. It’s not like I love you or anything. It’s not like it makes me physically sick at the thought of you…” Your hands fly up in exasperation. He watches and watches and watches. He’s always so, unbelievably, calm.

There’s one brief flicker, a barely noticeable swallow in his throat. But his stoicism does not fracture. “All of those lives are not worth the price of mine. If I have to put myself in harm's way, then so be it.”

You blink at him incredulously. He stares back.

“Unbelievable.” You mutter, a scoff leaving your lips. You step away, wishing to look at anything but him. “I’m going to get changed.”

You don’t wait for him to reply. He probably doesn't anyways. The bedroom door shuts behind you, frustrated tears that had been building up finally flowing freely. You kicked off shoes and items of clothing, stepping under the shower head and letting ribbons of hot water cascade down your skin. It felt, for a moment, like you could relax.

But then you remembered how he might not have come home. How he could have been in some morgue instead of the next room. The water became too hot, suffocating, and you hastily shut off the tap and stepped away from the lingering steam.

You’re exhausted, and part of you just wanted him to fold you into his arms and tell you that it would all be okay. But you couldn’t expect that of him now. It was Aaron who needed the support. And you could be that— tomorrow, when the freshness of your frustrations had time to dim and you could look at him without thinking about how close you’d been to losing him. Now, you need to sleep.

Stepping out into the bedroom, you expect it to be vacant. But instead he sits on the edge of the bed, quickly looking up when he hears the door crack open. You avoid his eyes as they watch you rummage through draws for your clothes.

He says your name. You pretend not to hear. He says it louder. You pause, but do not turn to him, and the soft sound of his feet against the carpet precedes the feeling of his presence behind you. His hands slide up your forearms, and suddenly a sob was trapping itself in your throat.

“Honey…” He whispers, willing you to face him. Reluctantly, you turn around, avoiding his gaze. His hands engulfed your face anyway and coaxed your eyes to his.

“You could be the only thing left in my life and that would be all the reasons in the world to make sure I came back home.” His thumbs wiped away tears you hadn’t realised had been shed, “I’m sorry that I scared you. If it was the other way around I'd—” He shook his head, “I don’t know what I'd do. If i’m honest, all i’ve been for the past month is afraid. Of losing Jack, of losing you. I don’t know which way is worse— that Jack is away from me and I can't be the one who protects him, or that you’re right here and I still might fail to protect you. I don’t know how to think about anything else.”

He pushed away damp strands of your hair, “I don’t want to die. I don’t. I just suppose that all I'm thinking about is catching Foyet that every second I spend away from searching for leads is another second I could be too late in saving someone I love. I think it’s why I rushed into that house, i just wanted the case over with so I could get back to Foyet. But I shouldn't have done it. You’re right.” He inhaled, “I want this all over with. I want us to be able to spend the weekend taking Jack to the park, and I want to tuck him into bed at night knowing I'll be making him pancakes in the morning. And I want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life knowing that nothing could take you away.“

“I want that too,” You said softly, “And we’ll get there, I know it. But please, I need you to take care of yourself. I can’t lose you, Aaron.”

“You won’t. I promise.” He assured, conviction laced in his words. Then, “I love you.”

One hand still on your face, the other reached down to pull you into him by the small of the back. It had been so long since your kisses had been anything but fleeting that the feverishness in which he pressed his lips to yours caught you by surprise for a moment. But, god, it was everything that you needed.

Arms wrapping around his neck, you melted into him like it was the easiest thing since the beginning of time. And even if he had doubts about his ability to protect you, there would never be a place in the world where you felt more safe than in his embrace.

[blackgirlsrxck]

Old Friends, New Dangers

a/n: Yall... I cooked with this one omg. Like as soon as it turns October, my urge to write Twilight fanfiction becomes so extreme. I used to write them all the time on another account, but I don't use it anymore. Anyways... Enjoy <3

summary: paul imprints on someone unexpected

word count: 4.1k

-

The air was thick with the mist of the Pacific Northwest as Y/n moved swiftly through the towering pines. Her heightened senses caught every rustle of leaves, every breath of the wind. Forks had always felt suffocating, even when she visited the Cullens long ago. Today, it was a reminder of the family she hadn’t stood with when they faced their greatest threat.

The guilt sat heavy in her chest like a stone. You should’ve been there, she thought. They needed you.

But her own crisis had been just as consuming. In truth, she had barely survived her encounter with the rogue coven that had hunted her for years. The Volturi battle hadn’t been the only war in the world, and Y/n had been fighting her own.

Y/n caught her reflection in a passing creek and paused, crouching by the water. Her deep brown skin glowed faintly in the dim light, and her eyes—still a vivid crimson—stared back at her. The Cullens had always been different, with their golden eyes that symbolized their vegetarian lifestyle. She couldn’t deny the hunger that burned in her throat. A hundred years of resisting temptation, and yet, she still wasn’t one of them.

Her long, layered silk press flowed around her like liquid ebony, even in the dampness of the forest air. She ran a hand through it absentmindedly as she sighed. She would never fit in perfectly with the Cullens. That’s why she left. That’s why she was a nomad.

But Carlisle had always been kind, and she owed him an explanation.

-

The Cullen mansion appeared like a shimmering beacon amidst the trees—modern, sleek, and yet hidden in the remote woods of Forks. Y/n approached cautiously. It had been too long, and while she trusted Carlisle, the others might not welcome her as easily.

As she neared the house, she slowed, her footsteps becoming light, barely touching the ground. Before she could reach the porch, a flash of movement caught her eye. Edward, unsurprisingly, was the first to appear. He stepped out of the shadows, his golden eyes scanning her with cautious intensity. Y/n could feel his mind brush against hers as he tried to read her thoughts.

Edward, she mentally projected, I'm not here to cause trouble.

His expression softened slightly, but not by much. Bella emerged from behind him, holding Renesmee close. Her face was stoic, protective.

Y/n gave them a small smile, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible, but the tension was unmistakable.

The front door opened, and Carlisle stepped out, his face breaking into a gentle, welcoming smile. "Y/n," he said warmly. "It’s been too long."

Y/n felt a wave of relief at his tone. “Carlisle,” she breathed, stepping forward. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed his calm, fatherly presence. She could feel the eyes of the rest of the family from the windows inside—Alice, Jasper, Emmett, Rosalie—all watching her, assessing the potential danger she posed.

Esme appeared beside Carlisle, her expression equally warm, though tinged with concern. “We’re glad to see you safe,” she said softly, her kind eyes studying Y/n’s features.

Y/n swallowed the knot in her throat. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” she started. “When the Volturi came. I should have been here, but…”

Carlisle shook his head, his smile never wavering. “You had your own battles to fight. I understand.”

“Still,” Y/n continued, “I should’ve done more. I let you all down.” She looked at him, guilt in her red eyes. She hadn’t even realized how heavy the burden was until she was standing before him.

“I’m just glad you’re here now,” Carlisle replied, putting a hand on her shoulder in that reassuring way he always had. "What matters is that you’re safe.”

Edward, still tense, stepped forward slightly, eyeing Y/n with suspicion. “It’s not just the past we need to worry about,” he said, his voice low. “You’re still hunting humans, aren’t you?”

The air froze around them. Y/n couldn’t deny it, even though the accusation stung. She had never fully embraced the vegetarian lifestyle the Cullens so strictly adhered to, and that was something she had wrestled with for years.

“I am,” she admitted, her voice steady but guarded. “But I’m not a threat to you. I’ve always respected your way of life, even if I can’t live it.”

Bella frowned slightly, her arms still wrapped protectively around Renesmee. "It's not just about us," she said. "The wolves...they’re still patrolling. You know how they feel about vampires who aren’t like us."

Y/n’s brows furrowed. She had almost forgotten about the Quileute wolves, the natural protectors of this land. They were bound to sense her presence soon, if they hadn’t already.

-

Moments later, as if on cue, the unmistakable sound of paws hitting the earth reverberated in the distance. Y/n’s sharp senses picked it up immediately, and she tensed. The wolves.

Jacob, accompanied by two others, was running toward the Cullen home, his expression as intense as ever. One of the wolves shifted mid-run, and a shirtless man stood before them in seconds. His dark eyes immediately locked onto Y/n, a defensive scowl crossing his features.

Paul.

He was as she remembered him—fierce, quick-tempered, and ever-ready for a fight. His muscled frame was tense, and even though he stood in human form now, the aggression in his posture was undeniable. Y/n’s presence alone was enough to set him off. She could sense it, the way his heartbeat quickened, his fists clenching at his sides.

“What’s she doing here?” Paul growled, his voice dripping with hostility.

Jacob stepped in front of Paul, placing a hand on his chest to calm him down. “She’s not a threat, Paul. Relax.”

But Y/n could see it wasn’t that simple. Paul’s eyes flickered between her and the Cullens, mistrust etched into every line of his face. She could feel the heat of his anger from where she stood, but something strange rippled through the air between them—an unfamiliar, electric pull.

For a moment, their eyes locked, and Y/n’s breath hitched. She had been around enough wolves to know their instincts were unpredictable, but this… this was different. She could feel Paul’s emotions crackling in the air, but underneath the aggression, there was something else. Something raw, primal, and entirely unexpected.

Paul took a step back, his expression shifting from anger to confusion, as though he were fighting something within himself. His jaw clenched, his fists tightening. “No… no way,” he muttered under his breath, his voice trembling with disbelief.

Y/n frowned, her brow furrowed. “What… what’s happening?”

Jacob’s eyes widened in realization, and he turned to Paul, his expression one of shock. “Paul… did you just imprint?”

Paul's face paled, and his body went rigid. The fury in his eyes had been replaced by sheer confusion, and for the first time since Y/n had met him, Paul looked… vulnerable.

Y/n felt her stomach drop, her vampire instincts screaming at her to run, but something deeper, something more human, rooted her to the spot. She didn’t understand what had just happened, but she knew it had changed everything.

-

The tension hung thick in the air, thicker than the mist swirling through the trees around the Cullen home. Y/n’s mind raced, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Imprinting—a bond she had heard of only in stories—had been something she never expected to encounter, let alone be the center of. But there was no mistaking it. The way Paul’s aggressive stance had melted into confusion, the raw emotions flickering in his dark eyes—it was undeniable.

But she was a vampire, and he was a wolf. This shouldn’t have been possible.

Paul stood frozen a few feet away, his broad chest heaving as he struggled with the same realization. Y/n could see the conflict written on his face, his entire being torn between his natural instinct to hate her and this newfound, overwhelming need to protect her. She didn’t know what to make of it, and judging by the way he was clenching and unclenching his fists, neither did he.

Jacob, standing off to the side, broke the silence first, his voice low but firm. “Paul, you need to calm down.”

“I—” Paul’s voice cracked, as though the words were stuck in his throat. He took another step back, shaking his head like he was trying to wake up from a bad dream. His gaze darted toward Y/n, then back to Jacob. “This can’t be happening.”

Y/n shifted uncomfortably, the weight of everyone’s eyes on her. The Cullens were watching with concern, and she could feel Bella’s protectiveness radiating toward Renesmee. Even Edward, though usually composed, had a look of uncertainty about him. Everyone was waiting to see what she would do next.

She was waiting to see what she would do next.

Her throat tightened, and she took a cautious step forward. “Paul... I don’t know what this means either. But I—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, his voice harsh as he glared at her. “Just… don’t.”

The sharpness in his tone stung, but Y/n understood. Paul had always been quick to anger, but this was different. He was terrified, and the idea of a connection to someone like her—a vampire, someone his kind was sworn to protect against—had to be shattering everything he thought he knew.

Carlisle, ever the diplomat, stepped between them, his voice calm and measured. “I think we should all take a moment to process this. This situation is… unprecedented.”

Paul let out a bitter laugh, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. “Unprecedented? Carlisle, she’s not supposed to be here! She’s dangerous!”

Y/n felt a flare of indignation rise in her chest, but she bit back her retort. Paul wasn’t entirely wrong. She wasn’t a vegetarian like the Cullens, and her bloodlust was a constant battle, especially around humans. The wolves had every reason to be wary of her.

“I’m not here to cause trouble,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm brewing inside her. “I came to apologize to Carlisle and the Cullens, not to be a threat to anyone.”

Paul’s jaw clenched as he stared at her, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “Then why does it feel like everything’s spiraling out of control the second you show up?”

-

Paul couldn’t breathe. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face—those vivid red eyes, her smooth dark skin, her presence that now felt like a gravitational pull he couldn’t escape. And he didn’t know if he wanted to.

He stormed through the trees, Jacob jogging behind him, trying to keep up. Paul could hear his thoughts, trying to calm him, trying to make sense of the situation, but it wasn’t working. Nothing made sense anymore. He had spent years hating vampires, especially ones like Y/n who fed on humans, and now, fate had decided to tether him to one?

“Paul, slow down!” Jacob finally called out, stopping a few feet behind him.

Paul stopped abruptly, his hands shaking as he ran them through his hair, tugging at it. “Why her?” he growled, his voice barely above a whisper. “Of all people—why a vampire?”

Jacob exhaled, walking over to him slowly. “Imprinting doesn’t care about stuff like that. You know that better than anyone.”

“Yeah, but this is different,” Paul snapped, turning to face his alpha. “This isn’t some random human girl. She’s a predator.”

Jacob crossed his arms, his gaze serious. “And yet, you can’t hurt her. You feel the need to protect her, right?”

Paul said nothing, but his silence was answer enough.

Jacob placed a hand on his shoulder, his voice softening. “I know this is a lot, Paul. But imprinting isn’t something you can fight. You know that.”

Paul clenched his fists. He didn’t want to protect Y/n. He wanted to push her away, to stay as far from her as possible. But every time he thought about leaving, something deep inside him rebelled against the idea. His instincts—the ones that had guided him as a wolf, that had kept him alive—now screamed at him to stay close to her, to make sure she was safe.

“How the hell am I supposed to deal with this?” Paul muttered, more to himself than Jacob.

Jacob sighed. “You’ll figure it out. But whatever happens, we’ve got your back. Just… don’t do anything stupid.”

-

Y/n had never felt so out of place in her life. She stood in the living room of the Cullen house, her back against the cool glass window as Alice sat perched on the edge of a couch, watching her with curious eyes.

“You okay?” Alice asked softly, breaking the silence that had settled between them.

Y/n sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Honestly? No. I have no idea what just happened out there.”

Alice gave her a knowing smile. “Imprinting is... complicated. Even for us, it’s hard to fully understand. But from what I can see, Paul’s entire world just got flipped upside down.”

Y/n couldn’t suppress the scoff that escaped her lips. “What about my world? I didn’t ask for this either.”

Alice’s smile faded slightly, and she stood up, moving to stand beside Y/n. “I know. But the imprint bond... it’s powerful. It’s not something that can be easily ignored. I think, deep down, you feel it too.”

Y/n glanced at her, frowning. “What are you saying?”

Alice’s eyes were gentle, but firm. “You feel it too, don’t you? That pull. Like something’s shifted inside you.”

Y/n opened her mouth to deny it, but the words wouldn’t come. She did feel something—something strange and new, a connection she didn’t understand. And that terrified her. She had spent years avoiding attachments, running from anything that could make her vulnerable. Now, she was bound to a man who was sworn to hate her.

“I can’t,” Y/n muttered, shaking her head. “This isn’t... I’m not someone who can just fit into this world. I’ve always been on my own.”

Alice touched her arm gently. “You don’t have to be. Not anymore.”

Y/n’s red eyes met Alice’s golden ones, searching for some kind of reassurance, some way to make sense of the chaos swirling inside her. But there was no easy answer.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Alice,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Alice smiled softly, her gaze understanding. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now. Just... take it one step at a time.”

-

Later that night, Y/n found herself wandering through the woods outside the Cullen house, her mind still spinning with the events of the day. The sound of footsteps behind her made her stop.

She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Paul,” she said, her voice quiet.

He stepped into view, his expression a mixture of anger and frustration, but something else simmered beneath the surface—something softer, more vulnerable.

“Why are you out here alone?” he asked, his voice low but intense.

Y/n crossed her arms, her eyes locking onto his. “I needed space. Everything’s… complicated.”

Paul let out a harsh laugh. “Yeah. No kidding.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the tension between them thick and unspoken. Finally, Paul broke the silence.

“I didn’t ask for this,” he said, his voice rough. “This... connection. I don’t understand it. I don’t want it.”

Y/n’s chest tightened. “You think I do? I never asked for any of this either. But it’s happening, and we have to deal with it.”

Paul looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time since the imprint. His eyes softened, and for a brief moment, the anger drained from his face. “I don’t know how to do that.”

Y/n took a deep breath, her heart racing in a way it hadn’t since she became a vampire. “Neither do I.”

They stood there, two enemies bound by fate, neither knowing what the future held. But one thing was clear: neither could walk away, no matter how hard they tried.

-

The silence between Y/n and Paul was thick with unsaid words, the night air around them charged with tension neither of them fully understood. They stood just inside the tree line, the Cullen house glowing softly in the distance, but it might as well have been a world away.

For the past few days, since their initial confrontation, Y/n had kept her distance from the Cullens and the wolves. She spent her nights wandering through the forest, wrestling with the unfamiliar pull of the imprint. Paul had been keeping his distance too, but she could feel him—his presence, his emotions—like an invisible tether, always pulling her back to him no matter how far she tried to run.

Now, here they were again. Neither able to stay away. Neither able to make sense of it all.

Paul’s dark eyes flicked up to meet hers, something raw and vulnerable in them that hadn’t been there before. He took a step closer, and she held her ground, though every instinct in her told her to back away.

“Why do I feel like this?” Paul muttered, his voice thick with frustration. “I can’t stop thinking about you, even though I don’t want to.”

Y/n’s chest tightened. She felt the same way—an inexplicable need to be near him, to protect him, to make sure he was safe, even if it made no sense. But she wasn’t about to admit that. Not yet.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “Maybe… maybe it’s the imprint. Maybe it’s messing with both of us.”

Paul’s jaw clenched. “It’s more than that. I can’t even think straight. All I know is I’m supposed to be near you, and it’s driving me insane.”

Y/n exhaled sharply, crossing her arms defensively. “I never asked for this, Paul. I didn’t ask for you to imprint on me. I’ve spent my entire life avoiding connections like this. I don’t do… attachment.”

His eyes darkened, his frustration shifting into something more intense. “Yeah, well, neither do I. I’ve spent my life hating vampires. And now I’m stuck feeling like I need to protect one.”

She felt the sting of his words, but she couldn’t blame him. He had every right to be angry, just as she did. But this was their reality now, and neither of them could escape it.

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their shared predicament pressing down on them like a suffocating blanket. Then, Paul’s voice broke through the stillness, softer this time.

“I don’t want to hate you.”

Y/n’s eyes snapped to his, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice. “What?”

Paul ran a hand through his hair, exhaling harshly. “I don’t want to hate you. I don’t know what the hell this is, but… I don’t want to fight it anymore.”

Her heart pounded in her chest, confusion swirling inside her. She had spent so long building walls around herself, protecting herself from feeling anything too deeply. But here was Paul, someone who should have been her natural enemy, standing in front of her, telling her he didn’t want to fight anymore.

The walls she had built felt fragile now, crumbling in the face of something neither of them could control.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Paul stepped closer, so close she could feel the heat radiating off him despite the cool night air. “Neither do I. But we’ll figure it out.”

-

The next day, Y/n found herself back at the Cullen house, standing in the middle of the living room, surrounded by the wary eyes of the pack. Jacob had called a meeting after Paul admitted to the imprint, hoping to ease the tension between the wolves and the vampires. But Y/n could feel the distrust thick in the air.

Sam stood at the front of the group, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He had been quiet since she arrived, listening to everything with a cold, calculating look. Y/n’s gaze flickered to Paul, who was standing off to the side, his eyes constantly darting between her and his packmates. He looked on edge, like he was waiting for something to snap.

“We can’t just ignore this,” Sam said, breaking the silence. His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of steel in it. “Paul’s imprinted on a vampire. A non-vegetarian vampire.”

Y/n stiffened, feeling the weight of their eyes on her, judging her. She wanted to defend herself, to argue that she wasn’t a threat, but the truth was more complicated. She wasn’t like the Cullens. She had fed on humans, and even though she had never hurt anyone near Forks, it was hard to deny what she was.

“I know what I am,” Y/n said, her voice steady. “I’m not like the Cullens. I’ve made mistakes. But I’m not here to cause trouble. I came here to apologize, and now I’m just trying to figure out how to deal with… this.”

She glanced at Paul, who met her eyes with a look that told her he was as confused as she was.

Jacob stepped forward, his voice more diplomatic. “Imprinting is out of anyone’s control. We’ve dealt with this before. You all know that.” He glanced meaningfully at Sam. “We’ve had other imprints that broke the rules, but we found a way to handle it.”

Sam’s expression didn’t soften. “This isn’t the same as imprinting on a human. She’s dangerous.”

Paul growled softly under his breath, his protectiveness flaring up. “She’s not dangerous to me.”

Sam’s eyes snapped to Paul, his expression hardening. “Are you willing to risk that?”

Y/n tensed. She had been around the pack long enough to know the importance of the alpha’s word, and Sam’s opinion carried a lot of weight. If he decided she was too much of a risk, it would put a strain on the tenuous peace between the wolves and the vampires.

“I won’t hurt him,” Y/n said quietly, her voice firm. “I don’t know what this imprinting thing means, but I know one thing—I don’t want to hurt anyone. Especially not Paul.”

The room fell silent, the weight of her words sinking in.

After what felt like an eternity, Sam finally nodded, though his expression remained guarded. “For now, we’ll keep an eye on the situation. But if anything changes, if you put anyone at risk—” He let the threat hang in the air.

Y/n didn’t need him to finish the sentence. She understood the stakes.

-

Later that evening, Y/n found herself standing at the edge of the woods again, staring out at the fading sunlight. She had always found comfort in the stillness of the forest, but tonight, her mind was restless.

Paul appeared beside her, silent as ever. She didn’t turn to face him, but she could feel his presence like a flame burning beside her.

“Are you okay?” he asked after a long pause.

Y/n shrugged, keeping her eyes on the trees. “I don’t know. Everything feels... different now. I don’t know how to be this person—the one who’s tied to someone else.”

Paul was quiet for a moment, then he let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, it’s weird for me too.”

Y/n glanced at him, surprised by the amusement in his tone. “What’s so funny?”

Paul shrugged, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “I guess I never imagined I’d be standing here talking about feelings with a vampire.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that, the tension easing between them. “I never imagined I’d be stuck with a wolf.”

They stood in comfortable silence for a few moments, both of them staring out at the forest as the night deepened.

Then, Paul spoke again, his voice softer this time. “I’m not good at this... at talking about stuff like this. But I know one thing—I can’t let anything happen to you.”

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat. The sincerity in his voice, the intensity of his gaze—it was overwhelming. She had spent so long running from attachments, pushing people away, but with Paul, it felt different. It felt inevitable.

“I don’t need protecting,” she said quietly, though her voice lacked conviction.

Paul’s eyes softened. “Maybe not. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to protect you.”

The weight of his words settled over her, and for the first time, Y/n didn’t feel the need to argue. She didn’t feel the need to run.

Maybe this was what the imprint was supposed to be. Maybe this connection between them was something she couldn’t fight anymore.

And for the first time in a long time, Y/n wasn’t sure she wanted to.

[misswynters]

Prophecy

[TAGS: sadness, soft aemond, angst

[notes | i need more soft aemond, not proofread

inspired by @demigoddessqueens <3

gif: @barbieaemond @peachysunrize

Aemond stood on the balcony of Maegor's Holdfast, staring out at the smoldering ruins of King's Landing. The twilight sky was heavy with smoke, the scent of ash and death permeating the air. Despair and anger twisted within him, threatening to consume him whole. His family was gone, scattered like leaves in a storm, leaving him to face the desolation alone.

The weeks leading up to this moment had been a nightmare. Aemond’s rage and fear had grown increasingly volatile, and you bore the brunt of his turmoil. Each time you tried to reach out to him, he shut you down with harsh words and cold stares, lashing out in fear and anger.

“Leave me be!” he had shouted one night, hurling a goblet across the room. It had narrowly missed your head, shattering against the wall behind you. You had flinched but stood your ground, refusing to be driven away by his outbursts.

“Aemond, I’m not your enemy,” you had said softly, your voice trembling. “I want to help you.”

He had turned on you then, his face a mask of fury. “Help me? How can you help me when you don’t understand? When you can’t possibly know what it’s like to have everyone you love ripped away from you?”

You had taken a step back, tears brimming in your eyes. “I understand more than you think. But you need to let me in, Aemond. You can’t keep pushing me away.”

His response had been to storm out, leaving you alone in the shattered remnants of his anger. It had been like this for weeks—moments of near-violence, followed by suffocating silence. Each time you approached him, he would lash out, his fear of losing you manifesting as uncontrollable rage.

Now, as he stood on the balcony, the weight of his grief pressing down on him, he felt a familiar dread. His grip on the stone railing tightened, his knuckles white. Memories of a childhood marked by doubt, insecurity, and fear surged to the surface. The tears that pooled in his eye were an unwelcome reminder of his vulnerability, and he despised himself for this perceived weakness.

Footsteps echoed softly behind him, but he didn't turn until he heard your voice. "Aemond?"

He turned slowly, his heart heavy. Your eyes, filled with worry and concern, met his. It was almost too much to bear.

"Would you leave me all the same, my love?" His voice was raw, laced with a bitterness that surprised even him. "Just like my family?"

Your eyes widened with hurt, and you stepped closer. "Aemond, no. I would never leave you. I'm here. I'm always here."

He scoffed, turning away from you. "That's what they all said. And look where I am now. Alone."

"Aemond," you pleaded, reaching out to touch his arm. "Please, look at me."

He remained rigid, the tears finally spilling over. "I don't know how to hold on anymore. Everyone I've ever loved is gone. How can I believe you'll stay?"

You moved in front of him, your frustration bubbling over. "You get like this when you're losing me or when you're being challenged. You shut down, lash out, and push everyone away. But I'm still here, Aemond, despite all of it. I’ve seen the worst of you, and I haven’t left."

He stared at you, anger and confusion warring in his eye. "How can you understand? You don’t know what it’s like."

"You’re right," you said, your voice firm. "I don’t but i can see how it’s affecting you. I don’t want you to end up in a place you aren’t meant for."

He looked away, the weight of your words sinking in. "But what if I can't protect you? What if I fail you like I've failed everyone else?"

"You haven't failed me," you whispered, your thumb brushing away his tears. "And you won't. We will face whatever comes."

Aemond's shoulders shook with silent sobs, and despite his initial resistance, he allowed himself to be pulled into your embrace. "I'm so scared," he admitted, his voice breaking. "I've lost so much...I can't lose you too."

You held him close, your own tears mingling with his. "You won't lose me, Aemond. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. We'll get through this. Together."

He clung to you, his walls crumbling in the face of your unwavering support. As he held you, he felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, amidst the ruins, there could be a new beginning.

But then he pulled back slightly, his expression shifting to one of deep worry. "Helaena," he whispered. "She told me something. She said I would die when I go harrenhal and fight a battle at the Gods Eye." Your heart clenched at his words but remained silent since you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t want aemond to die a brutal death, it can’t be true. However aemond pulled you out of your mind as he spoke.

"I've always trusted her visions," he continued, voice shaking. "If she's right...if I'm fated to die, how can I keep you safe? How can I protect you from what’s coming?"

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. "We can't live in fear of what might be. Helaena's visions may come true, but they don't define us. We face whatever comes, together. And if you go to the Gods Eye, then I'll be by your side, no matter what happens."

Aemond's eye searched yours, filled with uncertainty and fear. "I can't lose you," he repeated, voice barely above a whisper.

"You won't," you vowed. "Not now, not ever. We're stronger together, Aemond. And we'll face whatever comes, side by side."

In that moment, amidst the ruins and the smoke, Aemond found a glimmer of hope. With you by his side, he felt a strength he had thought lost forever. And though the future remained uncertain, he knew that, together, you could face whatever fate had in store.

tags: @benjicotblckwood @beebeechaos @spn-obession

banner by: @cafekitsune

[sophiamarieispinkbunny-chan]

Forger Fam and WISE Budget😅

Sylvia’s current concern according to Endo: Balancing WISE Budget

I mean how couldn’t she be concerned when maintaining Strix is so financially consuming.

I mean look at all the expenses the Forger family has made in less than a year:

1.Anya’s tuition that costs about $35,000 to $40,000, and that doesn’t include the uniform and school supplies.

2.Anya’s clothes and she seemed to have new clothes regularly and Endo said these are mostly bought by Loid/Twilight.

3.That castle rent that costs more than $77 000 and added the other check, I'm guessing for the furniture they used, that costs $17 600. (Yes, it costs more than Anya's tuition fee, I mean it's a castle 😂)

4.Loid could also not just be purchasing clothes for Anya. It looks like he also pays for Yor’s wardrobe and Yor mentioned that he got so many clothes for her in the boutique before the Eden Interview.

5.Loid is also the one who pays for their dates, seems like, and his dates with Yor doesn’t seem cheap at all, they seem to dine at fancy restaurants that require reservation.

6.The big heap of cash he pays Franky every time he babysits Anya and Bond.

And here it looks like the check his giving Franky costs 20,000 dalcs that is equivalent to $44,000 (one dalc is quivalent to $2.20). It's even more expensive than Anya's tuition, what?! 😂😂 (Twilight is literally willing to spend a lot money just to be sure that Anya won't be home alone ever again, he's not taking a chance on her being kidnapped again when he left her alone on ep1)

7.Loid didn’t seem to also hold back in spending a good amount of money for their apartments furniture and for Anya’s bedroom and even bought her a lot of toys and picture books.

8.And of course their out of town/out of the country family trips featured in the Code White movie. Those must’ve cost a lot considering they have to book a hotel and all. And according to a movie spoiler from tiktok, that wasn’t the last time they went on a family out of town trip.

Loid Forger does have a high paying profession. However, according to Endo, his earnings as a psychiatrist were only about $140,000 per year, not per month, PER YEAR. How could he cover that much expenses? Of course WISE covers the rest if it was crucial to the mission, or when Twilight insists it to be. I mean he always says that everything he does is for his mission so the one who has to pay was the one who gave him that mission.

(Most of these expenses didn't even contribute to the progress of Operation Strix. It just funds Twilight into sinking deeper into his fake fam and keeps the family even more attached to each other😂)

Endo said WISE is not really generous when it comes to paying their agents but they seem to be lenient on spending their money on the Forgers. I mean they have to invest for their Top Spy's family and World Peace do depend on them.

So Twilight, pile the bills and let Sylvia handle the rest😂

[harukamitsuki]

Ugghh been consuming some bnha stuff and I'm reminded of why I largely prefer fanfiction over the actual story. I have so much hate and pettiness within me. Even so, I am never going to change my mind on how much I hate how bnha is just an amalgamation of wasted potention. Search the definition of wasted potential up and there's just an image of bnha.

I remember watching it as the first season was coming about because it was made by Bones and I just have to watch it in that case. I watched episode one and was so excited.

We have our mc, Midoriya Izuku, being powerless in a world full of quirks.

His childhood friend turned bully, Bakugou Katsuki, is shown to be favoured by literally everyone and this feeds into his ego.

All Might, the number one hero, is jaded and powerless for 21 hours of the day because of a fight nobody knew existed. Izuku is attacked and helpless, but saved by All Might. All Might tells him he can't become a hero. A much needed reality check because Izuku didn't work out a single bit before then and it's so incredibly hard to fight someone who has something you lack.

Then Bakugou is attacked and helpless. Bakugou, who is so much stronger and who people love, is left useless, only able to make the situation worse with his explosions creating a fire hazard. The pro-heroes can't do anything. All Might and Izuku both hate themselves for the part they played and how useless they are. Then Izuku sees how scared Bakugou is. He runs in, inspiring All Might as he mocks himself for breaking Izuku's dream yet forgetting the core of heroism.

Then, after all is said and done, All Might goes back to Izuku. And he tells him he can become a hero.

...

Then he offers him One for All. Now, when I was watching this for the first time, I was so disappointed. You set up a powerless mc in a world full of powers and you just give him the power of the strongest hero? Great. But, I kept watching.

I watched Izuku work to get his power, struggle even after getting a quirk. I watched as Izuku finally stood up for himself and win against Bakugou. I watched as the series went on and I... I started noticing more and more missed opportunities.

See, bnha is supposed to be a zero to hero story. It's supposed to be about the mc going from powerless to powerful. But it does it so quickly. Suddenly, it's not about Izuku finding his own form of strength, or realising how being quirkless may not give any advantages but it also has no disadvantages, or even any commentary on quirk discrimination or fantastic racism or anything.

It turns into a story about controlling your power. It's not what I signed up for.

That's just one missed potential. There's so many more. Horikoshi clearly tries to make some commentary on quirk discrimination and female heroes/sexism in the workplace and entertainment over peace. There's some effort put into making a comment on how heroes are glorified and people don't see them as public workers, they see them as celebreties.

But it's never delved into. We don't see how bad people with mutant or 'villainous' quirks are treated, and we don't see how people with weak quirks are treated, or how the quirkless are treated (because the only reason Izuku was treated so horribly was because of Bakugou). We don't see how female heroes need to have a bit of allure in their personas to have any sort of support.

Yuuei is literally a camp for making child soldiers, yet there's no controversy over it? There's no such things as heroes having to take lethal action and no moral dilemmas over it? There's nobody speaking out about how Midnight flirts with students?

We have literally no information about how heroes work. We don't know how their salaries are decided, how they're ranked, how undergound heroes work. if twilight heroes are a thing, how anybody but Rock Lock feels about bringing children into adult matters, (seriously, why do people hate Rock Lock for being rightfully worried about having 15 year olds in a raid against the yakuza), we don't know how villains work and how to decide if one's a criminal or a villain.

Heck, the only laws we know of are fanon, and the canon stupid idea that you can't use your quirk in self-defense.

It's just. Incredibly infuriating.

Also, analysis as a whole is so under-utilised. Both Izuku and Shigaraki are deemed creepy for their analysis, which is such a useful tool. I mean, Izuku accurately guesses Stain's quirk, which is useful because, otherwise, they wouldn't be wary about Stain licking their blood or cutting them. Shigaraki accurately guesses the time intervals between Aizawa's blinks, which helps him a shit ton.

But is it ever used outside of these situations? No. The thing is, quirks are scientific in nature, not magic. Therefore, they're not restricted like magic is. Fire doesn't always have to be fire, it can be smoke or just heat. Ice can be water or steam. Acid can melt through anything or just be used as a mario kart banana peel.

There was so much missed potential and that's exactly why there's so much fan content.

Horikoshi leaves so much out, and everything he misses tends to be the interesting parts. He willfully explains Bakugou's quirk in detail, but everyone else? Nah. Fuck them.

I mean, let's look at Ochako's quirk.

Gravity negation. Or is it? See, if it were just gravity negation, then two things, in particular, would happen. First of all, Izuku would have fucking died when she saved him from falling. Second of all, she would not have been able to get infinity in the ball throw.

Negating gravity does not negate the forces. Therefore, when she saved Izuku from falling, he would have still been affected by the force of his fall. It would have been no different from hitting the concrete. Additionally, when she threw the ball, it kept going. Air drag would have made it so that she couldn't possibly get an infinity.

More accurately, rather than force negation as some fanfics suggests, she's telekinetically accelerating whatever she touches. She telekinetically accelerates Izuku's body to stop him falling, and does the reverse for the ball, making it so that it continues to accelerate after she throws it.

See what I mean? Because Horikoshi gave Bakugou's quirk a scientific explanation with him sweating a nitroglycerin-like substance and being able to spark it, you have to look at every quirk with scientific knowledge. He could have said 'oh, yeah, I store energy from my quirk in these gauntlets' but Hori just had to be a smartass.

By the way, because of Bakugou's explanation, it's possible that his quirk is not what is named. Yes, it's possible to have two sides of a quirk, as we see in Shouto, but Bakugou's quirk isn't explained in the same way.

Rather than his quirk being creating explosions, his quirk is more like creating sparks in his palms. Why? Well, you see. Bnha never delves into actual quirk theory, but there's more than enough canon evidence that you have one main quirk and then one or more quirk mutations. For example, Ashido Mina's quirk is secreting acid that she can manipulate the acidity and viscocity of. Her appearance is not related to her quirk at all, meaning it's a quirk mutation from her parents. Same with Tokoyami Fumikage. Quirk is Dark Shadow, so there's no need for the bird head.

Why does this relate to Bakugou? Let me explain: Bakugou explains that he recieved a mutation from his parents with his mother secreting glycerin and his father sweating acid with combustive properties. In other words, Bakugou inherited nitroglycerin-like sweat from his parents, but his actual quirk is being able to create sparks.

His quirk is 'Sparks'. Not Explosions.

Why am I ranting about this? Because bnha completely misses all of this! It makes no sense which is a shame because the concept is so interesting! But then it throws away any scraps of potential left when it becomes 'My Kacchan Academia'.

Seriously, why do people and why does Horikoshi love abusive pieces of shit so much? Why did he throw away the potential to look into Shouto and his siblings' feeling about Endeavour? Why did he make Dabi's plot all about Endeavour instead of Shouto?

It's so easy to compare the ways Dabi and Shouto handle their trauma and their ways of revenge. It's so easy to look at Dabi and think about how easy it would have been for Shouto to become like him.

Shouto was transfixed on Endeavour. Everything he did related back to his hate for Endeavour. Using his quirk, fighting, grades, social interaction, everything. His only reason for becoming a hero is to spite Endeavour. It's only because Izuku reaches out to him and saves him from his own toxic mindset that he's able to move one and do things for himself.

Dabi, or Touya, on the other hand, doesn't get that. He doesn't get that person who recognises how far he's gone, how, in trying to spite Enveavour, he's living a life centred on him. How he's jealous of his little brother for being abused and tormented.

While Shouto became a hero to spite Endeavour, Dabi became a villain.

They're both full of hatred at first, but Shouto is saved from that spiral. Izuku helps him. Dabi doesn't have that. It would have been so interesting to see these two face of as parellels, but nope. It's all about Endeavour. Shouto is nothing more than an accessory.

I understand Dabi being hung up on Endeavour, but to outright replace Shouto with the abusive flaming trashbag? No.

Also, if Horikoshi wanted Dabi to be seen as sympathetic or redeemable, don't make him kill innocent people. Don't make it so that he unlocks an ice aspect to his quirk in a life-or-death situation because all that means is that Endeavour was right to hurt Touya the way he did. All that says is Endeavour should have hurt him more.

AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON BAKUGOU.

This piece of shit bullied Izuku relentlessly for years, used his quirk on him (yes that is canon), told him to end his life, tried to assault him in Yuuei, tried to kill him, threw a tantrum at an abused kid for not being magically okay with using a quirk that reminded him of his abusive father, assaults Izuku when he tries to work together but still magically gets a pass for being carried out unconcious which Sero was failed for, and the list just keeps growing.

Oh, but my bad. He has a sad backstory. You see, he fell in a river.

[jasmineandcedar]

“You can sleep now”

An Elriel one shot (Azriel's POV)

In which Azriel finally falls asleep in Elain's arms.

Warning: There's sleep depravation and sadness, but it ends on a sweet note, and Azriel finally sleeping.

This one comes with a soundtrack:

----

Azriel didn't know what drew him to fly to the townhouse garden in the middle of the night. Perhaps it was because it was the only place where he had ever truly found rest. Perhaps it was the thought of the female that had brought him true peace for the first time in his life. Perhaps it was because that garden was the place where their quiet worlds had first collided, a sanctuary from a loud world that never understood.

All he knew was that tonight, like countless other nights, sleep eluded him. And he was searching for a peace he knew he had only ever found in her.

Heavy eyelids drooped under the weight of his exhaustion, but razor-sharp thoughts drifted untethered. Visions of her swirled through his mind, light as twilight’s mist and impossible to grasp. No matter how he fought to pull them with him into sleep, if only just to allow himself the dream of her, they slipped through his fingers and refused to settle.

He had spent so many nights wearing his body out on the training grounds at the House of Wind, but tonight, he had nothing left in him. Nothing but the racing thoughts that refused to free him of their clutches, consuming what little energy remained.

He landed heavily in the garden, feeling his knees buckle under the weight of that same exhaustion. Every muscle in his body aching, he didn’t bother tucking in his wings; he simply let them fall to the ground. Glancing up, he caught a glimpse of the ghost of himself reflected in one of the darkened windows of the townhouse. Shadows haunted his eyes. The dark circles beneath them betrayed his fatigue, but they had nothing on the bruises on his soul.

He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. A faint trace of jasmine clung to the crisp night air, putting pressure on that bruise on his soul. A heavy ache seeped into his bones, making every breath feel like an effort.

He wished more than anything to be numb. Regardless of what others said of him, Azriel's heart had always been bound to every emotion, leaving him raw and exposed. And now, the strength to keep it all hidden seemed to be fraying at the edges.

He breathed in that scent of jasmine once more.

He could never escape her, not even in the dead of night. The feel of her soft hand in his was imprinted on his skin. She lingered in his every breath. The echo of her laughter, soft like the chirping of a dove, was carried on every wind.

He inhaled deeply once more, heavy shoulders rising and falling, wings drooping behind him. There were traces of honey in the air too, mingling with jasmine.

He must truly be going mad.

He turned away from the window. And—as if conjured by the very thoughts that had led him to this sanctuary—there she was.

Elain was sitting on the chaise lounge where Azriel had once sunned his wings. Back when they could still sit beside one another without accusation. Before he had realized he desperately needed her like shadows need light. Before he was ordered to stay away from that light that truly made him feel seen. The light that was her.

The unearthly grace of her made her look as though she belonged to the garden itself. Illuminated by soft moonlight, her unbound golden-brown hair flowed like sweet honey over the pale blue coat that covered her white nightdress. Her pale cheeks and nose were stained pink, touched by the cool night air.

Azriel had always thought there was an ethereal beauty about Elain, as though she was not quite of this world. He stilled, afraid she might vanish if he so much as blinked.

She was watching him. A gentle serenity radiated from the warm embers of her chestnut eyes.

He ached to touch her. But he dared not cross the invisible line they—he—had been forced to draw between them.

He knew he ought to leave, that he should turn away before his need to stay close to her overtook him. But as he stood before her, as he could finally let his tired eyes rest upon that warm gaze of hers, Azriel realized he didn't have the strength to stay away any longer. Not tonight. Not even half a millennium of relentless suppression of his very being was enough to turn around and leave.

Or perhaps it was finally enough.

Perhaps he had finally tortured himself enough.

“Sometimes I come here when I can't sleep,” Elain whispered.

Azriel closed his eyes and let out a trembling breath, the sound of her voice washing over him like a gentle caress. He felt it soothe the tension in his muscles with bittersweet relief.

When he opened his eyes again, Elain glanced over at the empty space beside her in a silent invitation only he would recognize. Without a word, he slowly moved to sit next to her.

For a long moment, they simply sat there in silence, watching each other. No words cluttering the night air—only the still beating of their hearts, the reunion of two quiet souls that had been kept apart for too long.

Then, her head found its place on his shoulder. He surrendered, and gently lowered his head to rest against hers.

For a long while, it felt as though everything stilled—the faint rise and fall of Elain’s chest the only sign that time itself hadn’t stopped.

“I want to show you something,” she murmured at last.

With that ethereal grace, she rose to walk across the grass, then lowered herself to sprawl out upon it.

“The world looks so much more peaceful from the ground up,” She spoke softly, the calm of her voice carried to him on the cool breeze. “Especially in the dark”.

She turned to face him, eyes glowing with quiet invitation.

“The sky seems so much bigger and everything else just… fades away”.

Azriel watched her, wholly and utterly captivated.

“Don't you want to see?” she asked, patting a slender hand on the grass beside her.

He wanted to see what Elain saw. He wanted to be able to gaze upon the world with hope in warm eyes. Slowly he stood up and walked over to her.

As he lay down on his side to face her, and the world slanted around him, she was the only constant. She was a glade in the middle of a dark forest, grounded as an ancient oak.

Slowly their hands found each other, just like they had that first time when she had spoken of him with a word that had shattered something ancient and destructive within him.

Beautiful.

In that moment, Azriel knew, that his hand would always find hers.

Without hesitation, Elain laced her fingers with his, as though it were the most natural thing in the world—as though his hands weren’t abominations but something to be held.

He watched her intently, trying to imprint the vision of her like this in his mind and finally be allowed the dream of her. Elain glanced over at him, a gentle smile gracing her lips. She tilted her head up, gesturing to the night sky.

Azriel finally tore his gaze from her and lifted his tired eyes to the night sky to see what hidden knowledge she had found there.

The secret of the night sky stretched vast and endless above them, deep indigos and black woven together like an immense tapestry. Brilliant stars scattered across it, some glowing sharply, others pulsing as faintly as the quiet beating of his heart. His mouth felt open, and he let out a deep breath. The infinite reach of the night sky seemed to absorb the worst of his troubles and shrink the edges of his exhaustion.

As he lay there gazing up at the stars and holding the hand of the one who seemed to understand the depth with which he felt every emotion, peace wrapped around him. Elain didn’t ask him to explain himself, hadn’t needed him to reveal any of his scars or fears, and yet her eyes had seen his soul. With her hand in his, the darkness around him felt safe for the first time in his life.

“Do you see it?” she whispered after a long while.

Azriel swallowed thickly, trying to smooth out the crack in his voice. He wasn't sure he could speak.

“I see it,” he managed, voice catching in his throat. But lying next to Elain, being on the verge of tears was no source of shame. For some reason, in this moment, lying next to Elain on the brink of tears felt like the most natural thing in the world. He knew she was aware he felt things more deeply than most. So deeply it threatened to drown him if he lingered on any of it too long. So he hid it all.

And she saw it all.

His eyes fell on hers again.

“You’re cold,” she whispered.

He hadn’t noticed.

Perhaps he had been cold for so long that the ice in his veins had seemed like part of him.

“Let me...”

Elain didn’t need to finish the sentence; Azriel understood her as if the thought had been his own.  He tucked in his wings tightly and leaned over to gently rest his head against her chest.

“... hold you,” she finished.

His hand slipped around her waist. Her hand came to rest on his upper arm, the other on the nape of his neck.

As if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He felt her fingers gently caress the skin just under the neckline of his shirt. It sent a wave of warmth through his body. Jasmine, honey, and that warmth enveloped him. He felt it thaw his very bones, like the first sip of tea on a cold winter’s morning. Or the blanket of sunlight on a warm summer’s day.

Azriel closed his eyes and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, the chaos in his mind stilled entirely. The weight of his exhaustion lifted as the sound of her heartbeat calmed him.

They stayed in silence for a long while.

No words were needed to describe it, anyway, because the words to describe it simply didn’t exist.

“Azriel?” Elain whispered into his dark hair at last.

He hummed against her warm body, too tired to form words.

“You can sleep now,” she murmured softly.

And in that embrace of jasmine and honey and warmth, sleep finally took him, as if it had been waiting for her touch before it could claim him at last.

In the garden where it all began, with the Mother as their only witness, night’s embrace wrapped around them, as soft and quiet as the two of them. A stolen moment in the dead of night, and the shadowsinger and the seer were finally at peace.

As if it were the most natural thing in the world.

[zapreportsblog]

*ahem* Yandere Alec & Jane x Reader

Think about it,

When Bella goes to save Edward from the Volturi, Reader comes along to make sure their older sister Bella goes home alive only to make first contact with Jane.

Jane would be the quiet yet protective Yandere type, meaning when Jane first felt the bond she instantly wants the Reader close to her.

As Jane tells Bella, Edward, Alice and Reader to follow her with Felix and Demitri behind them(of course Jane makes sure to hold on to the Readers wrist lightly but strong enough)

Soon the group is in the throne room, Alec soon feels the same type of bond just like Jane and looks at Reader with hungry eyes.

Alex is the type of yandere that gets jealous easily and just wants to keep the reader locked up in a room.

Soon both siblings are on each of the readers side being protective and clingy, holding onto their hand and arms for recurrence and security.

Of course the reader is not used to it and gets freaked out and tries to get close to their older sister Bella, Bella doing the same thing by trying to reach out to the reader.

But the reader gets pulled back from Bella and has been forced to stay by the Volturi and the siblings FOREVER.

Ah yes now you’re talking my love language, who doesn’t just love them an unhinged partner

❝forced to stay❞

✭ pairing : yandere jane volturi x reader x yandere alec volturi

✭ fandom : twilight x reader

✭ summary : the moment she made a contact with the twins she should’ve known that her fate was sealed 

✭ authors note : I don’t know what it is about having a unhinged partner, but I find it oddly romantic . Like for an example I have been dating my current boyfriend for almost a year now and only recently I would say a couple of months back. He told me that he was going to look up my location and come to my house after I did not respond to him for the first few days of us talking, we were not dating in the beginning, obviously so the fact that this man was going to somehow get access to my location whew gurl, this man got me down bad 

✭ twilight masterlist

The evening had settled in, casting long shadows as Bella Swan sat in her room, her thoughts consumed by worry for Edward. She had barely spoken to him since he left, and the emptiness was overwhelming. Just then, a light knock on her window startled her, and she turned to find Alice Cullen perched on the windowsill, her golden eyes filled with urgency.

"Bella," Alice began, her voice laced with concern, "we need to talk."

Bella's heart raced as she sat up straighter. "What is it, Alice?"

"It's Edward," Alice said, her voice steady yet grave. "He's planning to expose himself to humans—to reveal his true nature—in order to provoke the Volturi into killing him."

The words struck Bella like a physical blow. Her mind raced, unable to comprehend what she had just heard. "No, he can't be serious," Bella whispered, her voice trembling.

Alice's expression was somber. "He believes it's the only way to keep you and your family safe from the Volturi's attention."

Tears welled in Bella's eyes as the gravity of the situation settled in. "I have to stop him," she said, her voice determined.

Alice nodded in agreement. "I'm coming with you."

As Bella stood, her gaze locked onto the window, and she realized that someone else was listening. Turning, she saw her younger sister, (y/n), standing at the door, her expression a mix of concern and determination.

"(Y/n), what are you doing here?" Bella asked, surprised yet touched by her sister's presence.

"I heard everything," (y/n) replied, her voice steady. "And I'm coming too."

Bella's heart swelled with a mixture of pride and worry. "(Y/n), this is dangerous. I can't let you get involved."

(Y/n) stepped forward, her eyes unwavering. "Bella, you're my sister. I can't just sit back while you face this alone."

Alice's lips curled into a small smile. "She's right, Bella. We're all in this together."

Bella hesitated, torn between her protective instincts and the realization that her family's bond was unbreakable. Finally, she nodded. "Fine, you can come. But promise me you'll stay close and follow my lead."

(Y/n) nodded, determination gleaming in her eyes. "I promise."

With the decision made, the three of them exchanged a look that held a mixture of worry and resolve. The bond between sisters ran deep, and their determination to protect each other was unyielding.

As they stepped out of the house, ready to face the perilous journey ahead, Bella knew that no matter what challenges they encountered, they would face them together. The unbreakable bond between sisters would guide them through the darkness, giving them the strength to save the ones they loved, even if it meant facing the Volturi themselves.

As Bella, Alice, and (y/n) approached the Volturi chamber, a tense atmosphere hung in the air. Shadows danced across the walls, and the weight of their purpose settled heavily upon them. Just as they were about to enter, a trio of figures appeared, drawing their attention.

Jane, Demetri, and Felix materialized before them, their presence both unsettling and foreboding. (Y/n) sensed the intensity of the situation, her instincts on high alert. Her gaze locked with Jane's, and a strange shiver ran down her spine. Unbeknownst to her, Jane's connection to (y/n) ran deep, fueled by the intense bond of mates.

Demetri's voice cut through the air, his tone respectful yet firm. "The kings are awaiting your presence. Follow us."

Bella exchanged a wary glance with Alice, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. With a nod, they followed Demetri and Felix, their steps echoing in the dimly lit corridor. The tension was palpable, and (y/n)'s heart raced as they moved closer to their destination.

As they entered the chamber, (y/n) felt a shiver run down her spine once more. The Volturi kings sat upon their thrones, exuding an air of authority and power. Aro, Caius, and Marcus regarded them with interest, their eyes glinting with curiosity as they took in the unexpected guests.

"(Y/n) Swan and Bella Swan," Aro's voice rang out, his tone laced with intrigue. "A pleasure to have you with us."

(Y/n)'s and her sister Bella’s eyes widened, taken aback by Aro's direct acknowledgment of her presence. They offered a tentative nod, voices momentarily caught in their throat.

“So tell me, why have you come here? Why do two humans and one vampire stand before us?” Aro questions obviously amused with the whole situation. 

As the conversation with the Volturi kings continued, (y/n) felt a strange sensation wash over her. The intensity of Alec's gaze upon her didn't go unnoticed. Unbeknownst to her, the same bond that had sparked between her and Jane had also formed with Alec, albeit with different implications.

Alec's eyes, hungry and possessive, trailed over (y/n) as if she were the only thing in the room. An invisible thread connected them, a connection that (y/n) couldn't comprehend. Her heart quickened under his gaze, an unfamiliar heat blooming within her.

As the conversation continued, (y/n) found herself shifting uncomfortably under the weight of Alec's gaze, a sense of unease settling in the pit of her stomach. Soon before she knew it Alec and Jane were standing before her, they clinged to her every being allowing no room for others to touch or even get near her.

Their presence was suffocating .

(Y/n)'s world had become a whirlwind of confusion and unease. She felt like a puppet, caught between the possessive affections of Alec and Jane on one side and the protective concern of Bella on the other. It was suffocating, overwhelming, and completely foreign to her.

As (y/n) attempted to navigate through the tense atmosphere, her heart rate quickened. Alec and Jane were by her side, their grip on her hand and arms feeling like a constant reminder of their presence. The clinginess and possessiveness made her uncomfortable, and she found herself longing for a moment of solitude.

Bella's attempts to reach out to her were a lifeline in this sea of intensity. She wanted to cling to her sister, the familiar bond between them offering a semblance of normalcy. But every time she tried to get closer to Bella, Alec and Jane would pull her back, their possessive gestures preventing her from seeking comfort in her older sister's arms.

Torn between the conflicting desires of those around her, (y/n) felt trapped. She wanted to be with Bella, to find solace in her sister's embrace, but Alec and Jane's hold on her was unyielding.

Then, the announcement from Marcus changed everything. His words echoed in the chamber, declaring that (y/n) was Alec and Jane's mate. The shock and realization of what that meant sent tremors through her. It was a bond she didn't understand, a connection that both terrified and intrigued her.

As the truth sank in, the weight of her circumstances settled on her shoulders. Aro, always the master manipulator, took advantage of the situation. He presented Bella and Alice with an unfair deal, Edward's life in exchange for (y/n)'s captivity among the Volturi.

The decision was left to (y/n), and despite the unease and discomfort, she found herself speaking up. "Agree to the deal," she told Bella and Alice, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. "I'll be fine. You have to save Edward."

It was a sacrifice that she never thought she would have to make, but (y/n) was determined to protect her loved ones, no matter the cost. As the deal was settled, (y/n) felt a mixture of fear and determination coursing through her veins. Her life had taken an unexpected turn, and now she had to face an uncertain future, bound to two yandere vampires who held an inexplicable claim over her heart and soul.

[yumeka-sxf]

After the excitement of the previous chapter, it's nice to be back to funny, wholesomeness~

I liked seeing that Handler genuinely cares about Nightfall (and Twilight, and I'm sure her other subordinates).

To me, she's always come off as being well balanced between the strict, stoic lead spy persona, but also not letting it consume her and not being afraid to show/admit that she really does care (unlike Twilight and Nightfall, who obsess about keeping up their facades). As much as she joked around with Nightfall, it's obvious she really does care. I have a feeling that whatever harsh decisions await Twilight in the future, she'll support him over WISE.

Meanwhile, it's so touching that Yor got better at cooking! Shows how much her heart-to-heart conversation with Loid in the previous chapter affected her 😊 How did she hurt her nose though? My guess is a splash from some boiling water in a pot 😯

But omg, so much wholesome Anya & Yor moments. I was reeling! 😍

And Bond was hilarious in this chapter! His animal impressions are 👌

The result of his elephant impression had me in stitches 🤣 He became Cubchoo!

Also his "don't I look fabulous?" pose when Franky comes in 😆

I especially loved this panel of Yor brushing Bond. Even though Yor is the one who bathes him, we've hardly seen them interact, and the impression we've been given is that Bond is kind of afraid of her. So seeing how relaxed he can be with her (and tail wagging!) is super sweet ❤

Also what she says to Bond here is similar to what she said to Loid previously 😁

Speaking of Loid, the poor man is so tired! He already experienced so many feelings the day before, so he had to quickly go back in his room before the wholesome atmosphere currently in the Forger house made him get more feelings!

Don't worry bro, one day the wholesome family feels will revitalize you instead of exhaust you! 👍

[nightghoul381]

Robin Doesn't Know the Evil Hiding in the Shadows ~ Ellis Twilight ~ Premium End

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

CW: Contains themes of suicide

Part 1 | Part 2 | Bitter End | Premium End | Epilogue

Ellis: “…There he is.”

I found the culprit in a corner of the event venue.

Haggard man: “Ah, it’s you…”

The man took out a bottle from his bag and showed it to me.

Haggard man: “This bottle contains a highly volatile and deadly poison.”

Haggard man: “If the bottle is dropped or broken, the poison will spread throughout the air…and everyone in this venue will die.”

(…If that’s the case, I can’t just grab him carelessly.)

(If I don’t take the bottle from the man’s hand…)

Ellis: “…Why are you doing this?”

Haggard man: “If you’re here, you probably know most of the situation.”

Ellis: “But I still want to hear it from you.”

Haggard man: “…”

Haggard man: “The motive for my crime was… to get revenge for the fact that they exhumed my wife’s body to use for anatomy classes.”

Haggard man: “My wife was supposed to finally be free from the pain of her illness and be able to rest in peace!”

Haggard man: “And then, she was exposed to the eyes of so many students…”

Haggard man: “Everyone was looking at her corpse as if she were a laboratory animal…”

Ellis: “But, you killed the medical students that hired the company, didn’t you?”

Ellis: “Your revenge has already been achieved…so why do you need to kill so many innocent people?”

Haggard man: “There’s a simple reason.”

Haggard man: “If there are no bodies to dissect and outlaws are robbing graves, then we should just make more bodies.”

Haggard man: “I want my wife’s resting place to never be disturbed again… I need a body.”

Ellis: “If you’re that determined…”

Ellis: “…Why did you leave a warning message after your last murder?”

Haggard man: “It was because of the piece of cake this morning.”

Haggard man: “You might be thinking ‘what’s the big deal?’ But to me, that piece of cake reminded me of the fun times I spend with my wife.”

Haggard man: “Since you gave me the cake, I thought I’d give you a hint if you were investigating the case.”

Ellis: “If that was the case…I don’t think…”

Ellis: “I believe that everyone lives with pain and joy that only they can understand.”

Ellis: “…I don’t want to say anything without knowing anything.”

(…I might feel similar.)

(The wishes of this man… and my own are surely very close.)

He wanted her to be happy, to be free from pain and suffering.

If reality was so harsh, He wished she would at least be sleeping peacefully with a smile on her face…

They had violated the sleep of his loved one.

(If the same thing happened to Kate…)

(I’d probably do the same thing as him.)

No matter how many times I was told it was wrong, no matter how many times Crown tried to stop me,

I would surely be consumed by rage and commit a heinous act to exact my revenge.

Haggard man: “…You’re trying to buy time with your conversation right now.”

Haggard man: “Is it because someone important to you is at the venue?”

Ellis: “…”

Haggard man: “In that case… let me show you how to protect the people at the venue.”

Without letting go of the bottle, the man used his other hand to pull out a powder from his pocket.

Haggard man: “This is the poison I was carrying with me to kill myself after I had completed my crime.”

Haggard man: “If you consume this… I will refrain from killing the people in the venue out of respect for your love.”

Haggard man: “You said you would protect her before she got hurt.”

Haggard man: “…Now, show me you can protect her.”

(If I take the powder, I’ll die.)

(If I don’t take it, the poison in the bottle will kill Kate.)

I suddenly shifted my gaze to the center of the venue and spotted Kate among the crowd of people.

Kate was so engrossed in the presentations at the venue, laughing, being surprised… her eyes lit up.

(If the only choice is between me dying and Kate dying…)

(…Obviously, I choose to die.)

Ellis: “…I’ll take the poison.”

Ellis: “My life and Kate’s are both precious, but…”

Ellis: “If it’s a matter of two dying or one dying, it’s better that only one dies.”

Haggard man: “…Two? Only one will die either way.”

Ellis: “I don’t think I can find happiness in a world without Kate.”

Ellis: “If Kate dies, I’ll definitely follow her.”

Ellis: “So it’s either two people who die, or one.”

Haggard man: “…Well, whatever. If you’re that determined, the go ahead and do what you want.”

The man tossed me the powder, which I picked up and, without hesitation, consumed in one gulp.

Ellis: “Ugh…! Gh, Aaah…ngh!!”

My knees buckled and I collapsed to the ground.

Haggard man: “You really would take poison.”

I heard a man’s voice, and the sound of something being placed next to me as I collapsed.

Haggard man: “In honor of your love, I will leave the bottle here, unused.”

Roger: “…Don’t move! That’s enough.”

Jude: “Just follow me obediently.”

Haggard man: “Yeah. I’ll follow you.”

Jude: “…Really, how long’re ya gonna sleep so carefree, Ellis?”

Ellis: “Mm…Sorry.”

When I sat up, the man Roger was restraining had a look of shock on his face.

Haggard man: “Wh-Why are you alive…!?”

Ellis: “I was learning some magic tricks. I’d pretend to consume things I shouldn’t, like poison…and then let it go down my sleeve.”

I flapped my sleeve and the powder I hadn’t taken flew into the air.

(I never thought the skills Victor taught me would come in handy in a situation like this.)

Roger: “Ellis, that’s important evidence you know?”

Ellis: “Ah…Sorry. I have some in my other sleeve too, so I thought that would be enough.”

Haggard man: “Were you deceiving me…? Was your love a lie…?”

Ellis: “My love for Kate is not a lie.”

Ellis: “I still haven’t made Kate happy enough… so I couldn’t let either of us die.”

(If only one of us can survive, me or Kate, then I want Kate to live,)

(…But, there’s no need to choose that option.)

Even if I reversed the options presented to me, I want to be happy tomorrow with Kate.

Ellis: “Besides—One day it will be me who kills Kate. Not you.”

Haggard man: “What the… you…”

Jude: “…Yer still crazy as ever.”

And so, before night fell—in the twilight, the incident came to an end.

Kate: “Ellis, I’m back!”

Ellis: “Welcome back, Kate.”

Ellis: “You must be tired after being out all day aren’t you? I’ll go make some tea, so wait for me in my room.”

Kate: “I’ll take you up on that offer, thank you.”

I prepared tea and cake and brought it to the room.

It’s late at night, but tonight is special.

Ellis: “So, how was your event?”

Kate: “It was awesome! At the end of the event, they announced something really big! It was—”

With sparkling eyes, Kate spoke with joy.

(…I’m glad I was able to protect Kate’s happy day.)

If even one thing about today’s events had gone wrong…

I might not have been able to exchange words with Kate tonight.

(I want to continue to protect this daily routine.)

(But… I wonder if ‘that’s all’ is enough.)

Kate: “Whew…. I’ve finished talking…! Ellis, you’re such a good listener.”

Ellis: “Really? Maybe it seems that way because listening to your stories is fun.”

Kate: “When someone says that to me, I get carried away and end up talking too much…”

Ellis: “Fufu…that’s good. I want to hear more about your day.”

Kate: “Enough about me! …Now can I hear about your day, Ellis?”

Ellis: “Mine…?”

Ellis: “My story is boring. I just did a little mission with Jude and Roger—”

Not wanting to ruin Kate’s fun, I tried to hide it.

Kate: “…Really? You look like something’s happened, so I’m curious…”

As she said this, Kate had a worried look on her face.

(…I can’t beat Kate.)

I told Kate everything that happened today.

Kate: “So that’s what happened…”

Kate: “Thank you, Ellis. For protecting my peace of mind.”

Ellis: “No, thank you.”

Ellis: “Hearing that you enjoyed the event today made me even happier that we were able to solve the problem.”

After I said that, Kate looked at me in silence for a moment.

Ellis: “…What’s wrong?”

Kate: “Ellis, you seem a bit depressed. Is it because of the grave robber?”

(Really… I can’t hide anything from Kate.)

Ellis: “…Yeah. This incident got me imagining things a little bit.”

Ellis: “Like, what if, after we fall asleep happily… someone hurts you?”

Ellis: “I was worried that our eternity would be shattered…”

Kate: “Hmm…”

Kate: “…Oh, I’ve got a great idea.”

Kate: “Maybe we should build a grave for both of us somewhere far out in the country?”

Ellis: “A grave… in the countryside?”

Kate: “Yes. With the sunlight shining down beautifully, and lots of flowers blooming…”

Kate: “…Let’s sleep together like we’re taking a nap in the countryside, surrounded by nature.”

Kate: “Grave robbers are only doing it for money, right?”

Kate: “If that’s the case, then why would they come all the way out there to dig up our graves?”

Ellis: “…That’s a great idea. I agree.”

Kate: “Really? Well then, let’s do it!”

Ellis: “Fufu, but… that’s a bit strange.”

Ellis: “We’re not married yet, we don’t have a house, we don’t have kids… we don’t have any plans for the rest of our lives.”

Ellis: “I can’t believe we’re thinking about the two of us being buried together.”

Kate: “Oh, that’s true… But if there’s a happy ending planned, doesn’t that make everything more fun?”

Ellis: “…Yeah it does.”

Ellis: “I’m looking forward to going to the grave with you more and more.”

And so, we continue to protect and accumulate happiness towards a happy ending.

Today, tomorrow, the day after, and every day after that—.

(…But, I still want something a little more reassuring.)

(If you were to ask me… ‘she’s’ the only one.)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Bitter End | Premium End | Epilogue

[reigns-devotee]

Part 2

Part 1 Here

Paring: Vamp!R.R, Vamp!J.U, Vamp!Fem Reader

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Kissing, Gore, Manipulation and Possession, MINORS DNI, try me....

Summary: You struggle to adjust to your new life as a vampire, guided by Roman, your maker, and Jey, Roman's cousin.As you grapple with your hunger, Roman teaches you the ways of vampirism while Jey reveals the dark family history of their bloodline.

“Oh, Roman... I’m soooo hungry,” you whimpered, your voice heavy with need, the thirst clawing at you from within. The hunger was unbearable, gnawing at your insides like an animal, demanding to be fed. Your lips trembled as you stared at him, your fangs aching with the intense desire to sink into something—anything.

Roman chuckled softly, a sound that was both soothing and chilling, like the whisper of the wind through the dead branches of an old, forgotten forest. He moved towards you with an easy grace, the floor creaking beneath his weight. His dark eyes flickered with amusement, and as he reached you, he gently swept a loose strand of hair away from your face, his touch colder than the night itself. 

“You’re always hungry, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice smooth, low, and rich, like velvet draped over stone. There was a tenderness in the way he spoke, yet an underlying command, as if he knew this hunger would never be satisfied—at least, not completely.  

His fingertips lingered on your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you forgot the hunger, lost in the steady rhythm of his presence. But only for a moment. The emptiness inside you, the constant aching need for blood, quickly returned, and your body trembled again, yearning.  

It was a good thing you inherited this gothic mansion, Roman had said, his voice carrying a hint of something almost... prideful.  

The mansion, once abandoned and decaying, now bore the marks of your shared influence. After two months of becoming a vampire, the two of you had transformed it into a sanctuary, a reflection of the darkness that now consumed your existence. The grand staircase, once dusty and cold, was now polished, the wood gleaming under the dim, flickering candlelight. 

Roman had guided you, showing you how to blend the macabre with the functional, how to make this mansion your own. The bed in the center of your bedroom—when lifted, revealed a hidden coffin beneath the surface, its cold embrace waiting for you whenever you desired to sleep, to rest, to escape from the world that no longer felt like your own. 

The windows were covered with thick, darkened curtains that blocked out every ray of sunlight, casting the room in eternal twilight. You could feel the weight of the dark, the suffocating sense of being trapped within your own domain, and yet, it felt safe—almost like the walls were closing in on you, but with a strange comfort. It was the only world you knew now. 

And then there was the fire pit. In the center of the grand parlor, the hearth was large enough to incinerate the bodies you had fed on, their blood drained, their life stolen. The bodies—those fleeting moments of your existence, now discarded, burned away in the flickering flames. It wasn’t as messy as the first few nights, when the bloodlust overtook you, leaving remnants you couldn’t quite hide, but Roman had shown you the way. You never left traces anymore.  

You were still a baby vamp, still learning the ways of the undead, still trying to reconcile the girl you once were with the monster you had become. Roman had become both your teacher and your lover, guiding you through the dark abyss of this new existence with a hand that was both gentle and firm. He was the one who had turned you, and in turn, he now owned you, in ways you weren’t yet fully sure of.  

Roman walked behind you, his presence looming like a shadow, always so close. He had a way of moving through the mansion with an elegance that made everything around him seem less real, less grounded. As he leaned over your shoulder, his lips brushing against your ear, you felt the cold breath of eternity against your skin. “You have to learn control, sweetheart,” he whispered. “The hunger is always there, always calling. But you mustn’t let it rule you.”  

You nodded, your eyes still glowing with the crimson thirst. You didn’t know if you could control it, though. You didn’t know if you ever would.  

As he walked away from you, disappearing into the shadows of the room, you felt the pull to follow him, the need for his guidance stronger than ever. But before you could move, you heard his voice, soft, but commanding from the darkness.  

“Tonight, you’ll learn just how much hunger can be controlled, sweetheart,” he said, his words tinged with something that made your stomach flip with excitement and dread. 

The knock at the mansion door echoed through the halls, loud and deliberate. You froze where you stood, the hunger momentarily eclipsed by unease. Roman’s expression darkened, his usual smirk replaced with a taut line.  

"Stay here," he commanded, his voice low but firm. He moved with purpose, his steps silent despite the weight of the moment. You wanted to protest, to follow him, but something in his tone stopped you.  

From your vantage point in the shadows, you watched Roman swing open the heavy oak door. On the other side stood a man you recognized immediately—Jey Uso, his cousin and partner at WWE.  

“Really, Uce? You couldn’t call first?” Roman’s voice was sharp, but there was no mistaking the flicker of relief that softened his features.  

Jey stepped inside, his movements just as fluid as Roman’s. He was dressed casually, but his presence carried an unshakable intensity. “And miss the look on yo’ face? Nah, I had to see it for myself.” His eyes shifted, scanning the room until they landed on you.  

Your breath caught. Jey’s gaze was sharp, assessing, but not unkind. “So, it’s true, huh” he said, addressing Roman but keeping his eyes on you. “You turned ‘er.”  

“She’s mine,” Roman replied, his tone both possessive and protective.  

Roman’s patience was wearing thin. “If you’ve got something to say, say it.”  

Jey turned his attention back to his cousin. “Chill, Uce. I’m not here to start nun. I just wanted to meet ‘er... properly.”  

He took a step closer to you, his movements careful but deliberate, as if he were approaching a wild animal. “You’ve knew us for years. You really think we were just your average samoan family?”  

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Your mind raced, piecing together memories that suddenly took on new meaning—their unyielding energy during grueling tours, their uncanny ability to recover from injuries, the way Roman’s cold touch had always felt just a little too unnatural.  

“Wait,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re saying... your whole family?”  

Jey nodded, his expression softening. “It’s in our bloodline. Been that way for centuries. Roman’s not the first, and he won’t be the last.”  

Roman cut in, his tone curt. “She doesn’t need a history lesson, Jey.”  

But Jey ignored him, his focus solely on you. “You got questions. I can see it in your eyes. Don’t worry—I aint here to judge. You aint a threat, Y/N. You family now, whether you like it or not.”  

“Family?” The word felt foreign on your tongue.  

Jey smiled, the sharpness of his fangs just barely visible. “That’s how we work. Roman might’ve brought you into this, but you not alone. Not anymore.”  

Roman stepped between you and Jey, his presence a shield. “Enough. She’s still adjusting. She doesn’t need your speeches right now.”  

Jey raised his hands in mock surrender. “Ight, Ight. But she deserves to know the truth, Uce. And she deserves to know there’s more to this life than just you.”  

The tension between them was palpable, a silent battle of wills that spoke to years of unspoken history. Finally, Jey turned back to you.  

“Listen, mama,” he said, his tone softer, hearing him in your mind now. “You new to this, and it’s gonna be rough. But you’re strong—you always been strong. Don’t let him boss you around too much.”  

You stared at Jey in disbelief, your thoughts swirling with questions you didn’t know how to voice. Could this really be happening? Jey’s wink and the casual way he confirmed your suspicions sent a shiver down your spine.

“How... how can you hear me?” you asked, your voice trembling as you stepped closer to him.

Jey tilted his head, his smirk widening into something more amused. “That’s just how it works with us, mama. Same bloodline, same wavelength.” He tapped his temple for emphasis. “Roman can’t tap into your mind like this—he’s yo maker, sure, but he doesn’t have the same... access.”

Roman’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he glanced between you and Jey. “What are you two whispering about?”

“Nothing important,” Jey said aloud, waving a hand dismissively as he leaned casually against the wall. “Just explaining a few things your baby vamp here oughta know.”

Roman’s glare intensified. “She doesn’t need you putting ideas in her head.”

“Relax, Uce,” Jey replied, shrugging. “I’m just giving her the 101. You know, what you probably should’ve done before turning her loose in this world.”

You couldn’t help but feel the tension thickening in the room, the unspoken history between the two men creating a rift that felt almost tangible. But more than that, your curiosity burned brighter.

Why can’t he hear me? you thought, testing the connection between yourself and Jey.

Jey’s chuckle was audible this time. “Like I said, he’s your maker. That bond’s different—it’s about control, not connection.” His gaze softened as he continued, his tone quieter now. “With me, it’s like we’re... equals, in a way. No strings attached.”

Roman stepped closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over both of you. “Enough.” His voice was low, commanding, and it sent a jolt through you. “She doesn’t need your distractions.”

“She doesn’t need your leash either,” Jey shot back, his calm demeanor slipping into something more dangerous. “You can’t just keep her locked up here like some kind of pet.”

“I’m protecting her,” Roman growled, his fangs glinting in the dim light.

“Protecting her?” Jey scoffed, pushing off the wall. “You mean isolating her. There’s a whole world out there, Uce—a world she’s gotta learn to navigate if she’s gonna survive. Or did you forget what happened the last time you tried to ‘protect’ someone?”

Roman’s eyes flashed with something dark and painful, and for a moment, he looked almost human. Almost.

You stepped between them, your voice shaky but firm. “Stop. Both of you.” You looked at Roman, then at Jey, your gaze lingering on the latter. “If there’s more I need to know, I want to hear it.”

Roman started to protest, but Jey cut him off, speaking directly to you. “You wanna know the truth? Then come with me. Just for a little while. Let me show you what it really means to be one of us.”

Roman’s hand shot out, gripping Jey’s arm with enough force to make the tension between them palpable. “She’s not going anywhere with you.”

Jey’s smile turned sharp, his fangs fully visible now. “That’s not your call, Uce. It’s hers.”

You felt the weight of both their stares on you, the choice looming heavy in the air. Your instincts screamed to stay with Roman, the one who turned you, your maker, your protector. But a part of you—an increasingly curious and rebellious part—wanted to follow Jey, to learn the truths Roman seemed so determined to keep hidden.

The silence stretched thick between the three of you, the tension practically humming in the air. Roman’s eyes burned into Jey’s, a silent battle of wills raging between the cousins. You stood frozen in the middle, feeling like a tether between two forces threatening to rip apart.  

Finally, Roman broke the silence, his voice low and measured, though it was clear he was reluctant. “Fine.”  

Your head snapped toward him in surprise, and even Jey looked taken aback for a moment before his signature smirk returned.  

“We’ll all go,” Roman said, his gaze locking onto yours. “But I lead. You follow my rules, and you stay close to me. No wandering off.” His tone left no room for argument.  

You nodded quickly, a nervous energy coursing through you. “I’ll do whatever you say.”  

Roman stepped closer to you, his towering frame radiating authority. His hand reached out, brushing a stray hair from your face as his piercing eyes held yours. “This isn’t a game, sweetheart. The hunger you feel—it’s a beast. You’re not ready to face it alone.”  

Jey chuckled, breaking the heavy moment. “Chill, Uce. She’s with both of us. Nothing’s gonna happen to her.”  

Roman shot him a glare but didn’t argue. “We stick together. The second things get out of hand, we leave. Got it?”  

Jey raised his hands in mock surrender. “Loud and clear, big dog. Now, let’s get this shit on the road. It’s been a while since I’ve hunted with company,” he winked at you.  

Roman’s jaw tightened, but he turned and headed for the door, motioning for you to follow. You fell into step behind him, with Jey trailing just a little too casually for Roman’s liking.  

The night outside was cold and crisp, the moon casting a silver glow over the sprawling woods that surrounded your mansion. The hunger clawed at you, sharp and relentless, as the three of you moved deeper into the forest.  

“Stay focused,” Roman instructed, his voice a low rumble. “Don’t let the hunger control you. You control it.”  

You nodded, trying to concentrate on his words even as the scent of something—someone—human reached your heightened senses.  

Jey leaned down, his voice a playful whisper in your ear. “First hunt’s always the hardest, mama. Just remember, it gets easier. And more fun.”  

Roman shot him a warning look over his shoulder. “Jey.”  

“What?” Jey asked innocently, shrugging. “She’s gotta learn sometime.”  

Roman didn’t reply, but his pace quickened, his focus sharp. You followed him through the trees, every nerve in your body alive with anticipation. The hunger was unbearable now, a gnawing, all-consuming need that made you feel like you were burning from the inside out.  

Then you saw them—a group of campers huddled around a fire, their laughter carrying through the crisp night air. You froze, your eyes locking onto the pulse in one man’s neck, the rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat drowning out everything else.  

Roman stepped in front of you, his hand on your shoulder grounding you. “Control,” he reminded you, his voice firm but steady. “Don’t strike until I say.”  

Jey grinned, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “Looks like dinner’s served.”  

Roman shot him another glare before turning back to you. “Watch me. Follow my lead. And when the time comes... don’t hesitate.”  

You nodded, swallowing hard as you tried to steady your breathing. The campers were oblivious, their laughter a cruel reminder of their innocence. But as Roman moved closer, his presence predatory yet graceful, you felt the shift in the air.  

This wasn’t just a hunt. It was a lesson. And tonight, you would either prove yourself or risk being consumed by the hunger entirely.

Roman moved like a shadow, silent and calculated, every step deliberate as he circled the unsuspecting campers. You could barely breathe, your senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating rhythm of their heartbeats, the scent of their blood mingling with the smoky air. Jey stayed a step behind you, his presence a strange comfort even as the hunger roared in your veins.  

“Wait here,” Roman whispered, his voice a low command that snapped you out of your daze. He crouched, his movements almost predatory, and you watched in awe as he approached the group, his figure blending into the darkness.  

The campers were laughing, blissfully unaware of the danger. Roman stopped just at the edge of the firelight, his towering figure suddenly visible as he stepped forward.  

“Evening,” he said, his voice smooth and disarming.  

The group startled, turning to look at him. One of the men stood up, trying to mask his unease with bravado. “You lost or something?”  

Roman chuckled softly, his smile sharp and knowing. “Something like that.”  

Before they could react, he struck. His hand shot out, grabbing the man by the throat and lifting him effortlessly off the ground. The others screamed, scrambling to their feet, but Jey was already there, his fangs bared as he lunged for the closest camper.  

“Stay here,” Roman had said, but the hunger inside you was unbearable now, a primal force that drowned out reason. You stepped forward, your vision tunneling as your instincts took over.  

The scent of blood was everywhere—warm, metallic, irresistible. You targeted a young woman who had fallen, her ankle twisted in her attempt to flee. Her terrified eyes met yours, and for a moment, you hesitated.  

“Do it,” Jey’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and encouraging. “It’s who you are now.”  

The hunger roared, and you lunged, your fangs piercing her neck with terrifying ease. The taste of her blood was unlike anything you could have imagined—hot and rich, filling the void inside you with an electric satisfaction.  

She struggled briefly, her pulse weakening as you drank, but Roman’s voice pulled you back. “That’s enough.”  

You pulled away, gasping, the world spinning as the woman’s lifeless body slumped to the ground. Your hands shook as you looked down at her, horror and euphoria warring inside you.  

Roman was suddenly by your side, his hand gripping your chin and forcing you to look at him. “Control,” he said firmly, his eyes boring into yours. “You stop when I tell you to stop.”  

You nodded, swallowing hard as the reality of what you’d just done sank in.  

Jey, meanwhile, was grinning, wiping blood from his lips as he surveyed the scene. “Not bad for a baby vamp,” he said, his tone teasing but impressed.  

Roman ignored him, his focus still on you. “How do you feel?”  

You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Like... like I’m alive. More alive than I’ve ever been.”  

Roman’s lips curled into a small, approving smile. “Good. That’s how it’s supposed to feel.”  

Jey clapped a hand on your shoulder. “Welcome to the family, mama. You’re one of us now.”  

The three of you stood there in the aftermath, the forest eerily silent except for the crackle of the dying campfire. You knew this was just the beginning. The hunger would return, stronger and more insistent. But for now, you felt a strange sense of belonging, standing between Roman and Jey in the darkness, your new reality taking shape with every passing moment.

The taste of blood still lingered on your tongue, a heady, intoxicating sweetness that left you both exhilarated and trembling. You could feel Roman’s presence beside you, the weight of his gaze drawing you in. 

The world seemed to slow as he stepped closer, his cold hand brushing against your cheek, his fingers delicate yet firm as they traced the line of your jaw. His eyes, darker now, held yours, pulling you into a trance-like state. The hunger was still there, pulsing under your skin, but his touch—the way he held you—felt like the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. 

Roman leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath warm and heavy against your skin. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice dark and possessive. 

And then, without warning, his lips crashed onto yours. The kiss was fierce, urgent, as if he was marking you in a way words never could. His coldness sent a shock through you, a sharp contrast to the warmth of your body, but it was an overwhelming sensation—something that stirred both fear and longing deep within you. The blood smeared between you, sticky and tangible, but it was nothing compared to the electricity sparking between you both.

As Roman pulled back, you gasped for air, your chest rising and falling rapidly. You could still taste him on your lips—the metallic tang of blood mingling with something darker, more primal. Before you could fully catch your breath, you felt Jey behind you, his presence looming like a shadow.

He walked toward you, his movements deliberate, and you shivered as his hands rested on your shoulders, his fingers brushing the back of your neck. You could feel the heat of his body pressing against your skin. He slowly tilted your head back by your hair, the grip of his fingers like a possessive whisper against you. His touch was different from Roman’s—softer, almost gentle, but with an underlying intensity that set your nerves alight.

“Relax, ma,” Jey’s voice echoed in your mind, as clear as if he were speaking directly into your ear. “We gon’ take care of you.” His words sent a thrill through you, part of you both afraid and completely entranced by the promise in his tone.

You could feel your neck pulse under his touch, the beat of your heart sending a rush of warmth to the surface. The invitation was clear, and before you could think twice, your body responded. You didn’t fight it. You couldn’t. 

Roman’s eyes darkened as he stood before you, taking in the change in your posture. He placed his hand gently on your shoulder, guiding you as he leaned down to your neck. His breath was cold against your skin, and you shuddered in anticipation, the world narrowing until it was just him and you. 

Without hesitation, Roman sank his teeth into your neck. The sharp sting of pain was quickly replaced by a wave of warmth, an overwhelming sensation that filled your entire being. The blood—the life—was exchanged, and it felt like you were both drowning in it and being reborn at the same time. 

But it wasn’t just him. The second your body tensed in response to Roman’s bite, you felt Jey’s cold fingers on your other side, his presence a shadow looming behind you. Slowly, almost reverently, Jey’s fangs pierced the opposite side of your neck. 

The world exploded around you in a rush of sensation, your pulse throbbing in your ears, your skin crawling with the overwhelming duality of their touches. The feeling was so intense, so foreign, that it was as if you were no longer entirely yourself. You were theirs—both of theirs—and in that moment, there was no room for fear, only hunger, desire, and the need to surrender. 

Your body went limp in their hands, the weight of the moment settling deep into your bones. Roman’s grip tightened as he drank deeply, and Jey did the same on the other side, their synchronized movements marking you as theirs. Each draw of blood felt like a pull toward them, and you found yourself lost in the rhythm of it all.

The world blurred, and you felt yourself slipping into a different kind of consciousness—one where nothing mattered but the hunger, the sensation of being consumed, and the deep bond forming between the three of you. There was no going back now. You had crossed over. And in their arms, in the darkness of the forest, you knew you would never be alone again.

[speechlessxx]

alluring. [vampire!aemond targaryen x reader]

this was a daydream i had. blame twilight.

this might possibly be a series? i dunno yet...

summary: she knew his secret...

warnings: vampires, twilight au, mentions of feeding, making out, outrageously short i apologize, bad writing.. oops.

She gasped as his cold lips pressed against her warm skin. He trailed kisses from her temple to her cheek just before he captured her lips in a searing kiss.

It was heated and passionate. It almost felt forbidden, which, in a way, made it, and him, all the more enticing… addicting.

She gasped his name against his lips as he used his strength to pull her onto his lap. Her thighs parted, capturing his waist between them and her hesitant hands reached for either side of his statuesque face.

Everything about him scared her but it allured her in a way that she couldn’t explain. His very being invited her. And though he had spent his existence ignoring each and every woman that threw themselves at him, it was only she who captured his attention, who drove him mad the way only she could.

He kissed her hungrily, but she felt as if he held back – as if he didn’t want to hurt her or lose control. And she understood why.

He tried to pull away, but with her hands cupping his sculpted cheeks, he didn’t get very far. He whispered her name against her lips, against her kiss. “Stop,” he said, but she was relentless.

He knew his strength and she felt it in his touch. But despite this, he didn’t push her away. He gently whispered her name again, this time pleading.

“It’s okay,” she said in a hushed tone, finally pulling away from his lips. With her hands still holding his head, she stared into his eye – the pupil swallowing the violet hue whole. He was holding his breath as he looked into hers. “It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t.

She saw him swallow and, in his eye, she saw the conflict. His desire for her and his need to protect her fought against each other, and she wasn’t sure which side would win.

“I’m not scared,” she told him though her trembling hands gave her away. “I know, okay? I know.”

He didn’t say anything as he fought his internal war. His hands sat at her waist, and he knew with a single move he could shatter her. He knew he was dangerous. He knew what he was… and so did she.

So why didn’t she care?

Why wasn’t she afraid?

She said his name again as she leaned in. He tilted his chin forward as if to capture her lips once more, but instead, she bared her neck to him. He said her name, sternly, angrily – as if he had been offended that she’d even consider this.

“I know,” she said again. “It’s okay.”

She shuddered as his cold lips pressed against the warm delicate skin of her neck. She felt his teeth graze the skin and she held her breath in anticipation.

“I can’t,” he told her.

“I trust you,” she said. Her tone more confident than before. “I’m not scared, Aemond.”

He could hear her heartbeat and see her pulse. His gentle hand cradled the side of her head as he felt a side of him subside as the other was victorious.

“You should be,” he answered, but he could no longer control himself as he sunk his fangs into her neck and allowed her warmth to consume him.

[rainforestakiie]

Yo! Follower/Stalker on Be Lonely with Me from AO3 and I have been infected by Tumblr outside of YouTube.

Was wondering if you'd ever update Vacation Away? Always wondered what happened to it.

hello! aw, i'm so happy you like my writing! it means so much to me! thank you for all the support!

yes, of course i will write another part for you! i hope you like it!

Vacation Away (Adam/Lucifer goes on vacation on Earth) = Part 01. Part 02. Part 03.

Half the week had drifted by like a lazy cloud since Adam had left Heaven, the bustling city that felt more like a gilded cage than a home. The town he now found himself in was quaint, nestled between rolling hills and kissed by the soft blush of early spring. Yet, his mind wasn’t on the picturesque charm or even the reason for his journey—the required vaccination that had dragged him here. No, his thoughts were consumed by Samuel.

The odd little man staying at the same inn had a way of commandeering Adam’s mind, unbidden and relentless. Samuel was peculiar in the most endearing way—a wiry frame that seemed too small to house the vibrant energy he carried, a goofy grin that crept up unprovoked, and eyes that gleamed with a mischievous sparkle, the colour of the clearest morning sky after a storm. Adam couldn’t help but smile faintly, a soft, wistful thing, as he thought of the way Samuel laughed—full-bodied and infectious, like music that lingered long after the song had ended.

It was strange, this pull he felt. Sweet. Unfamiliar. Adam didn’t think he’d ever looked at someone this way before, let alone a man. Not since… Eden.

His chest tightened, and his gaze drifted out the window. The world beyond blurred as his thoughts turned inward, his reflection ghosting on the glass. His eyes grew distant, soft, and shadowed with memories he couldn’t outrun.

Eden. The word alone was heavy, like honey laced with poison. Eden was where his heart had first learned to soar and where it had been shattered beyond recognition. He leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window, his breath fogging the pane. How he longed for Eden—its golden skies, the gentle hum of its rivers, the animals that knew him and trusted him. He would give anything, everything, to go back.

But alone.

Always alone.

Eden, his paradise, was haunted. Each perfect bloom, each serene vista, reminded him of what he had lost, what he had endured. The ache of betrayal, the weight of his choices—it was all tied to that sacred, cursed place. Returning would be a solace, yes, but one he could only bear in solitude.

And yet, as the thought of Samuel flitted through his mind again, it jarred something loose in him. Adam frowned slightly, his fingers tracing idle patterns against the window. Samuel’s presence, his laughter, his small kindnesses—they were all unbidden, disruptive, but… comforting in a way that Adam couldn’t explain.

What was it about that strange man with the sparky blue eyes that made the heaviness in his chest feel a little lighter? Could it be that Samuel was more than a passing curiosity? Adam wasn’t sure. All he knew was that the inn felt warmer when Samuel was near, and the nights didn’t seem as lonely.

Shaking his head, Adam turned his attention back to the view outside. The twilight was setting in, painting the town in hues of lavender and rose. A soft knock at the door startled him from his reverie.

“Adam?”

The voice was unmistakable, a bit hesitant but still carrying that distinct warmth that Samuel never seemed to lack. Adam’s heart stuttered, unprepared for the surge of emotions the sound evoked. He hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob before he opened it.

Samuel stood there, grinning sheepishly, his hair mussed as if he’d just rolled out of bed, though it was barely evening. He held out a steaming cup.

“Hot chocolate,” he said, a little too quickly. “I noticed you seemed… quiet at breakfast. Thought maybe you could use some.”

Adam blinked, caught off guard. “I—thank you.”

His voice softer than he intended. He took the cup, their fingers brushing briefly. The touch was fleeting, but it left his skin tingling.

Samuel lingered, rocking on his heels.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, his grin faltering slightly, as though unsure of his welcome.

Adam hesitated, his instincts urging him to retreat, to guard himself. But then he looked at Samuel—truly looked—and something inside him softened. The man’s vulnerability was palpable, and Adam found himself nodding before he could think better of it.

“Sure,” he said, stepping aside to let Samuel in.

The fire crackled gently in the hearth, casting flickering amber light across the room. Adam leaned back against the windowsill, the warmth of his cup seeping into his palms, grounding him. Samuel was sprawled on the worn-out rug near the fire, his head propped up on one hand, his other tracing absentminded patterns in the air as he spoke. He was telling a story about a mischievous duck he’d encountered during his travels, his voice animated, his blue eyes sparkling with delight.

Adam found himself watching more than listening, caught up in the way Samuel’s face lit up, the way his smile came so easily. It was magnetic, this energy Samuel carried, and Adam couldn’t help but be drawn to it, even as he tried to keep his feelings in check.

“And then, just as I thought I’d lost it for good,” Samuel said, gesturing dramatically, “The duck pops up behind me with the scarf in its mouth, looking all smug. I swear, it was laughing at me. You should’ve seen its face, Graham.”

Adam’s breath hitched. Graham. The name hung in the air like a bell, jolting him from his thoughts. He froze, the cup halfway to his lips, his heart skipping a beat as he processed the name. It wasn’t his, not really, but he’d used it so casually in this little town that hearing it felt… wrong. And yet, the way Samuel said it—with that warm, teasing lilt—made it sound right.

Realizing he hadn’t responded, Adam forced himself to move, lowering the cup slowly and plastering on a small smile.

“Oh? Did you ever get the scarf back?” he asked, his voice a touch higher than usual. He winced internally at how obvious he sounded.

Samuel chuckled, oblivious to Adam’s sudden tension. “Of course I did. I had to bribe it with half my lunch, though. Ducks are crafty little devils.”  

His gaze flicked to Adam, sharp and bright as always, and he grinned. “Why? You don’t strike me as a scarf person, Graham.”

There it was again. Graham. Adam’s stomach did a flip, and his blush deepened, creeping up his neck and to his cheeks. He cleared his throat, gripping the cup tighter to steady himself.

“I’m not, really,” he said, managing to keep his voice even. “But I think it’s nice that you made a friend, even if it was a duck.”

Samuel laughed, the sound rich and genuine, and it sent a shiver down Adam’s spine.

“You’re funny, you know that?” Samuel said, shifting to sit up straighter, his eyes locking onto Adam’s. “I mean, you’re quiet most of the time, but when you talk, it’s always something that sticks with me.”

Adam’s grip on the cup tightened. He could feel the intensity of Samuel’s gaze, those piercing blue eyes seeming to strip away every wall he’d built around himself. He fought the urge to look away, to hide, but instead, he met Samuel’s eyes, his blush betraying the calm facade he was trying so hard to maintain.

“Thanks,” Adam murmured, his voice softer than he intended. “I guess I don’t realize I do that.”

Samuel smiled, and it was different this time—gentler, more intimate.

“You do,” he said simply. “And it’s one of the reasons I like being around you.”

Adam’s heart stuttered, and he felt the blush spread further. He opened his mouth to respond but found he had no words. The room seemed to shrink, the firelight casting a cozy glow that wrapped around the two of them, isolating them from the rest of the world.

“Graham,” Samuel said again, the name rolling off his tongue like a soft caress. It wasn’t just a name—it was the way he said it, like it meant something, like he meant something. Adam forgot, for a fleeting moment, that it wasn’t really his name.

He smiled despite himself, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a shy but genuine way.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever said my name that much in one night,” he teased lightly, trying to deflect, to push away the weight of what he was feeling.

Samuel grinned, leaning forward just a bit, closing the distance between them.

“Maybe that’s because nobody else noticed how good it sounds,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, playful murmur. His eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was something sincere in the way he looked at Adam, something that made Adam’s breath hitch.

Laughing nervously, Adam shook his head as he tried to will the heat in his face to fade.

“You’re impossible,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Impossible and charming,” Samuel replied, echoing his earlier words. His hand moved, brushing lightly against Adam’s knee, a touch so casual yet so deliberate that it made Adam’s pulse quicken.

For a moment, they just sat there, the space between them charged but comfortable. Adam’s heart pounded in his chest, but he didn’t pull away. He couldn’t. There was something about Samuel’s presence that made him feel safe, like maybe it was okay to let his guard down, even if just for a little while.

“Graham,” Samuel said one last time, his voice softer now, almost reverent.

Breath caught, but this time, Adam didn’t freeze. He smiled, a real smile, and for once, he let himself be in the moment, even if he wasn’t sure what it all meant.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice steady, his shyness finally melting into the warmth between them.

Grin widening, and Lucifer’s blue eyes sparkled brighter than the firelight.

“Nothing,” he said, leaning back with a playful shrug. “Just wanted to say it again.”

And Adam, despite himself, laughed. It wasn’t a name he’d chosen for permanence, but in Samuel’s voice, it felt like something he could live with—something he could cherish.

The morning air in Keukenhof was crisp and carried the faintest hint of dew, mingling with the sweet perfume of tulips in full bloom. Adam and Samuel strolled through the gardens, the vibrant sea of colours stretching endlessly before them. Tulips of every hue—vivid reds, soft pastels, sunny yellows—danced in the gentle breeze, creating a tapestry of life and beauty. Samuel walked slightly ahead, turning every so often to point out a flower that caught his eye, his enthusiasm as boundless as the fields themselves.

“Look at that one, Graham!” Samuel exclaimed, crouching down by a patch of tulips with frilled edges that looked like flames frozen mid-dance. “I didn’t even know flowers could look like this!”

Chuckling softly, Adam’s hands tucked into his pockets as he followed.

“You’re acting like you’ve never seen a flower before,” he teased, his voice warm with affection.

Samuel glanced over his shoulder, grinning. “Not like this. It’s magical, don’t you think?”

Nodding, Adam’s gaze sweeping over the vibrant blooms.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice quieter. “It is.”

They wandered deeper into the gardens, stopping occasionally to admire the more intricate displays. At a small stand tucked among the trees, Samuel spotted trays of truffles arranged in neat rows, each piece adorned with delicate patterns. His eyes lit up.

“We have to get some,” he said, grabbing Adam’s hand and pulling him toward the stand. Adam let himself be dragged, laughing softly at Samuel’s childlike excitement.

The vendor offered them an assortment, and Samuel picked out a small box of truffles with vibrant designs—ones shaped like tulips, tiny hearts, and even one that resembled a bumblebee. They found a bench near a quiet patch of flowers to sit and share them, Samuel popping one into his mouth and humming dramatically.

“Delicious,” he declared, holding another up to Adam. “Try this one. It’s hazelnut.”

Adam hesitated but leaned forward, taking the offered truffle. Their fingers brushed briefly, and Adam’s heart skipped a beat. The truffle melted on his tongue, sweet and rich, but the real warmth came from the way Samuel watched him, a satisfied smile on his lips.

“Good, right?” Samuel asked.

Adam nodded, swallowing. “Yeah. Really good.”

As they continued walking, a burst of giggles and the twang of a guitar drew their attention to a small group of children gathered under a tree. One child held a guitar, plucking at the strings with little success, while the others clapped and cheered him on. The scene was charming, and both Adam and Samuel stopped to watch.

The child strummed the guitar again, the sound clunky and awkward.

“I can’t do it!” he huffed, pouting as his friend’s offered encouragement.

Without thinking, Adam murmured, “You need to relax your grip. Otherwise, the strings won’t sound right.”

Turning to Adam, Samuel’s eyes wide with curiosity. “Wait—you play the guitar?”

Blinking, realizing what he’d just admitted. Adam let out a sheepish sound.

“I used to,” he said carefully. “A long time ago.”

Samuel’s face lit up like the sun breaking through clouds. “That’s amazing! You should show them.”

Adam held up his hands, shaking his head. “No, no. I haven’t played in years. I’m probably terrible now.”

“Oh, come on,” Samuel said, nudging him playfully. “It’ll be fun. Look at them—they’d love it.”

Before Adam could protest further, Samuel was already talking to the children, convincing them to let Adam try. They handed over the guitar eagerly, their little faces lighting up with excitement.

The weight of Samuel’s hopeful gaze leaving him little choice. He sat down on the grass, adjusting the guitar in his lap. His fingers trembled slightly as they found the strings, memories of songs he hadn’t thought about in years flooding back. With a deep breath, he began to play.

The first few notes were hesitant, but soon the melody flowed smoothly. It was a gentle, lilting tune that carried through the garden like a soft breeze. The children clapped along, their giggles and cheers filling the air. Even the flowers seemed to sway to the rhythm.

When Adam glanced up, he saw Samuel standing a few steps away, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets. His blue eyes were fixed on Adam, warm and unwavering, his expression a mix of awe and something deeper—something that made Adam’s heart ache in the best possible way.

Adam’s fingers faltered slightly, and he quickly looked away, his cheeks burning. His heart thudded in his chest, loud enough that he was sure Samuel could hear it. He finished the song and handed the guitar back to the children, who thanked him enthusiastically before running off to try again.

Samuel crouched down beside him, his grin softer now.

“You’re incredible,” he said, his voice low but full of emotion.

Adam shook his head, his gaze fixed on the grass. “I’m not. I just… remembered a few things.”

Reaching out, Samuel brushed a stray curl from Adam’s forehead. The gesture was so casual yet so intimate that Adam’s blush deepened.

“You’re too modest, Graham,” Samuel said, his voice teasing but his eyes serious. “That was beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

Breath hitching, and for a moment, Adam didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t felt like this in so long—this vulnerable, this seen. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

“Thanks,” he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

He glanced at Samuel, then quickly looked away, the intensity of his gaze too much to bear. But even as he averted his eyes, a small, shy smile crept onto his lips.

And Samuel, ever patient, stayed by his side, the warmth between them growing like the tulips blooming all around.

The afternoon sunlight filtered through the floral shop's large windows, casting golden beams over the rows of tulips, roses, and lilies waiting to be arranged into beautiful bouquets. The air smelled sweet, thick with the scent of blossoms and freshly trimmed stems. Adam and Samuel worked side by side at the counter, their hands busy with ribbons, vases, and the delicate petals they handled with care.

“Well, Graham,” Samuel said, his voice lilting with mischief, “You’ve got quite the knack for this. You sure you’re not secretly a florist?”

Adam glanced at him, trying to suppress a smile. “Hardly. I’m just following your lead.”

Samuel smirked, nudging Adam’s elbow with his own. “Good answer. But I think you’re just being modest again.”

Adam rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped him. “You really love giving me a hard time, don’t you?”

“It’s my favourite pastime,” Samuel said, leaning closer as he reached for a spool of ribbon.

His shoulder brushed against Adam’s, lingering just a second too long. The touch sent a jolt through Adam, and he found himself hyper-aware of how close Samuel was—how he could feel the heat of his body even in the cool air of the shop.

They fell into an easy rhythm, assembling bouquets and chatting, their laughter filling the space. Samuel was relentless in his teasing, but it was gentle, laced with affection that Adam couldn’t help but respond to. At one point, Adam reached for a sprig of baby’s breath at the same time as Samuel, their fingers colliding.

“Careful,” Samuel murmured, his voice dropping a notch. His eyes met Adam’s, bright and teasing. “Don’t want to steal my thunder.”

“Maybe you’re the one stealing mine,” Adam countered, his voice steadier than he felt.

Samuel’s grin widened. “Touché.”

The playful banter continued, their touches growing more frequent—an accidental brush of fingers here, a nudge of hips there. Adam tried to focus on the flowers, the ribbons, anything but the growing tension between them. But Samuel made it impossible, his every movement deliberate, his every word dripping with charm.

“Graham,” Samuel said, his voice soft now, almost a purr.

Adam looked up from the bouquet he was working on, startled by the sudden shift in tone. Samuel was closer than before, his blue eyes fixed on Adam’s, a hint of something deeper swirling in their depths.

“Yes?” Adam asked, his voice catching slightly.

“You’ve got a little…” Samuel reached out, brushing a petal off Adam’s shoulder. His fingers lingered, grazing the fabric of Adam’s shirt. “There. All better.”

Adam swallowed hard, his heart thudding in his chest. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat as Samuel leaned in, his face inches away now. Adam’s breath hitched, his body frozen in place.

“Relax,” Samuel murmured, his voice low and teasing, but there was a tenderness in his gaze that made Adam’s heart ache.

And then Samuel kissed him.

It was soft, tentative—a gentle press of lips that sent a shockwave through Adam. His eyes widened, his body stiff as he processed what was happening. It was his first real kiss in over ten thousand centuries, and it felt as foreign as it did wonderful. He didn’t know what to do, how to react, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

Samuel pulled back, a teasing smile on his lips, his blue eyes bright and searching. “Not bad for someone who’s rusty, huh?” he said, his tone light but his gaze warm. He reached up, his fingers brushing Adam’s cheek, his touch gentle and lingering.

Adam’s face burned, his heart pounding so hard he was sure Samuel could hear it.

“I—um—I…” He stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, before finally managing, “Excuse me, I-I need to retire for the night.”

Without waiting for a response, Adam turned and hurried toward the door, his steps quick and uneven. He felt Samuel’s gaze on him, but he didn’t dare look back. The moment he was outside, he all but ran, the cool evening air doing little to cool the fire burning in his cheeks.

He reached his room and shut the door behind him, leaning against it as he tried to catch his breath. His face was hot, his heart still racing. He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the rapid thrum of his pulse. He had never felt this way before—so alive, so shaken, so… seen.

Sliding down to sit on the floor, Adam covered his face with his hands, a shy, disbelieving smile creeping onto his lips despite his embarrassment. Samuel had kissed him. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Adam let himself wonder—just for a moment—what it would feel like to kiss him back.

Adam sat alone in his room, the walls pressing in like a suffocating reminder of his isolation. His shoulders slumped as he leaned against the windowsill, the evening sky outside painted in soft hues of gold and lavender. But he couldn’t appreciate the beauty. Not tonight. Not when his heart was a chaotic storm of memories and feelings he thought he had buried deep, never to be unearthed.

Samuel’s kiss had stirred something in him—something Adam hadn’t felt in centuries. But it wasn’t just the flutter of warmth in his chest or the way his skin tingled where Samuel had touched him. No, it was the torrent of pain that came rushing back, a tidal wave dragging him under.

Eden.

Lucifer.

The names themselves felt like wounds that had never healed.

Adam closed his eyes, and his mind betrayed him, pulling him back to a time when the world was new, and he was blissfully ignorant of how cruel love could be. Lucifer had been his everything—his guide, his angel, his first friend. And later, Adam realized, his first love. Back then, he hadn’t had the words to describe what he felt when Lucifer smiled at him, his blue eyes alight with mischief and a depth of kindness that seemed boundless. He didn’t understand why his heart quickened whenever Lucifer was near, or why he felt so crushed when their time together ended, even for a moment.

But he knew now.

Adam had been hopelessly, irrevocably in love with the archangel.

It had all seemed so perfect in the beginning. Lucifer had been there for him, teaching him, guiding him through the garden, showing him the wonders of creation. Adam remembered their laughter, the shared glances, the way Lucifer had teased him, calling him "innocent" with a grin that made Adam’s knees weak. It was a love he hadn’t dared to voice, not even to himself, until Lilith was created.

Lilith. His "other half," the angels had said. His destined partner. Adam remembered the confusion, the ache of betrayal when they told him he was to love her. He cared for her, yes, but his heart wasn’t hers to take—it was Lucifer’s. Always Lucifer’s. But even Lucifer had pushed him toward her, encouraging him to embrace his “destiny.”

Adam had tried. He had tried so hard to do what was expected of him, to silence the feelings clawing at his heart. But how could he, when every glance, every thought, every beat of his heart whispered Lucifer’s name?

And then… the betrayal.

He could still see them in his mind’s eye—Lucifer and Lilith together. The memory tore through him like it had happened yesterday. He had stumbled upon them, their laughter mingling in the air like a cruel mockery of everything he had dreamed. Adam’s heart had shattered into pieces so small, he wondered if it would ever be whole again.

"Why can’t I marry you?" Adam had asked Lucifer once, desperation trembling in his voice. He’d been so young, so naive, still clinging to the hope that what he felt might somehow be returned.

Lucifer had laughed, a soft, almost apologetic sound.

"You can’t," he’d said simply. "Because I’m an angel, and you’re human. It would never work."

But it had worked with Lilith. And later, Eve.

Adam shook his head, the tears stinging his eyes blurring the pastel streaks of the sunset. Lilith had been his first taste of heartbreak, but she hadn’t been the last. Eve came next, and Adam had tried to love her too, tried to be the man the angels said he was meant to be. But Lucifer had ruined that, too.

Lucifer always came back. Always took what wasn’t his to take.

Adam had run from them both, from Eden itself. But unlike before, no one had followed. No one had tried to bring him back. Not Lucifer. Not Lilith. Not Eve. It was in that deafening silence that Adam learned his place in the grand design: nowhere. He was an afterthought, a vessel for a plan he had no part in shaping.

And so he had vowed never to love again. He had built walls so high and so strong that even he believed no one could ever break them down. But then came Samuel.

Samuel, with his goofy grin and sparkling blue eyes—so different from Lucifer’s yet so similar in the way they made Adam’s heart flutter. Samuel, who teased him, who touched him, who kissed him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He looked at Adam as if he wasn’t the first man, wasn’t the first human, wasn’t a pet or an insect. Samuel gazed at Adam…just Adam…

Adam’s chest tightened as he thought of Samuel. The way his lips had felt, soft and warm, lingering just long enough to make Adam’s breath catch. It had been the first time in eons that Adam had felt truly wanted.

But what was the point? Adam was dead—an angel of the Lord, his heart hollowed out and remade for duty, not love. Samuel was alive, vibrant, full of hope and dreams that belonged to the mortal realm. They were from different worlds, and their paths were never meant to cross. This couldn’t be anything more than a fleeting moment, a cruel reminder of everything Adam had lost and could never have again.

The thought broke him.

Pressing a hand to his chest, willing the ache to subside, but it only deepened. Adam had been so certain he could go through eternity without needing anyone, without wanting anyone. But now… now he wasn’t so sure. Samuel had slipped past his defences with ease, and Adam didn’t know how to stop him.

“I can’t do this,” Adam whispered to the empty room, his voice trembling.

But even as he said it, a small, traitorous part of him wondered—what if he could? What if, just this once, he let himself fall?

He was scared. So scared to fall again. After Lucifer…Adam never wanted to feel that way again.

Adam sat on the edge of his bed, the room dimly lit by the flickering glow of a single candle on the windowsill. The tulip fields that had earlier brought him so much joy now felt like a distant memory. His thoughts swirled, a storm of past regrets and present confusion. He traced his fingers along the edge of the blanket, trying to focus on the soft texture instead of the ache in his chest.

The kiss. Samuel’s kiss. It had unearthed feelings Adam hadn’t allowed himself to feel for eons, and now they were unravelling him. He had locked himself away to escape them, but they lingered, like shadows clinging to the corners of the room. He tried to bury his emotions under the weight of old wounds, but Samuel’s face, his bright eyes and gentle touch, kept flashing in his mind.

Then, a knock at the door startled him. Adam froze, his heart leaping to his throat. He considered ignoring it, but after a second knock, softer this time, curiosity and a flicker of hope got the better of him. Rising from the bed, he approached the door hesitantly, his fingers hovering over the handle before he finally opened it.

There stood Samuel, looking uncharacteristically nervous. He was holding a small bouquet of tulips in his hands, their colours a soft blend of pink and white, like a whisper of spring.

“Hi,” Samuel said quietly, offering the flowers with a sheepish smile. “I, uh… I’m sorry if I came on too strong earlier. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Face flushing as Adam accepted the bouquet, his fingers brushing Samuel’s briefly. The warmth of the touch sent a shiver down his spine. “You didn’t… scare me,” Adam said softly, looking down at the tulips. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“I just wanted to check on you,” Samuel added, scratching the back of his neck. “And maybe… talk? If you’re up for it?”

Adam hesitated, glancing at the tulips again before stepping aside. “Come in.”

Samuel entered cautiously; his usual confidence subdued. Adam placed the flowers gently on the small table by the window, arranging them absentmindedly before sitting back down on the bed. Samuel settled in the chair opposite him, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

“I’m sorry,” Samuel began again, his voice soft. “I didn’t realize you were carrying so much… stuff.”

Adam chuckled bitterly, shaking his head. “It’s not your fault. I’ve just… had a harsh past with love and emotions. Relationships haven’t exactly been kind to me.”

Gaze softening, Samuel’s head tilting slightly. “A bad breakup?”

Laughing, though the sound was hollow. Adam grimaced painfully. “Not even a breakup. More like… a first love that turned sour.”

Leaning back, a flicker of curiosity crossing Samuel’s face. “A first love?”

Gaze fixed on the tulips; Adam smiled softly. When he spoke, his voice was distant, filled with a quiet pain. “There was someone in my life once. We were best friends—always together, attached at the hip. I… I loved him. More than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

Samuel stayed silent, his blue eyes locked on Adam, his expression unreadable.

“I didn’t know it at the time,” Adam continued, his voice trembling slightly, “but I was in love with him. He was everything to me. I thought he held the sun and moon in his hands just for me. But…” Adam’s breath hitched, and he looked down at his lap. “I wasn’t enough for him.”

Jaw tightening, Samuel’s lips pressing into a thin line as Adam spoke.

“I was told I had to marry someone else,” Adam said, his voice growing quieter. “But how could I? My heart wasn’t mine to give—it was his. Still, I tried. I tried to be what everyone wanted me to be. And then… he chose her. He picked her over me. My friend—my best friend—said I wasn’t worth the trouble. But she was.”

Adam exhaled shakily, his fingers gripping the edge of the bed. “And it didn’t stop there. I was told to marry another woman, and he… he went after her too. It was like I was just some obstacle in his way. Someone to be discarded when I was no longer convenient.”

Swallowing hard, Samuel’s blue eyes glistening. “Your friend… doesn’t sound like much of a friend…”

Adam gave a pitiful smile. “In the end, I don’t think he ever really was. I think… I think I was just something to keep him entertained. Like a pet.”

Samuel opened his mouth to speak, but then stopped, biting his lip. He looked at Adam with a mixture of sorrow and anger, his hands clenching into fists before relaxing.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Laughing softly, Adam shook his head. “Why are you apologizing? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Samuel sniffed, shifting in his seat as he wiped at his eyes. “It’s just… it’s not fair. You deserve everything, Adam.”

Heart skipping a beat as Samuel reached out, his fingers brushing against Adam’s cheek. The touch was light, reverent, as if Samuel were afraid Adam might break under his hand.

“I’m sorry you went through that,” Samuel said, his voice trembling. “Your friend… he ruined everything for you, didn’t he? He turned love and relationships into something… painful.”

Adam looked down, shrugging shyly. “It was so long ago. I try not to see him if I can help it.”

Leaning closer, Samuel’s gaze unwavering. “You deserve so much more. You deserve someone who’ll fight for you. Someone who sees you for the incredible person you are.”

Breath hitching, Adam’s cheeks burning as he looked away. But Samuel’s hand remained on his cheek, grounding him, offering a comfort he hadn’t felt in centuries. And for the first time in eons, Adam wondered if it was possible to open his heart again.

“Please Graham…” Samuel whispered tenderly. He inched even closer to him, pressing his body against Adam’s. “Please Graham, let me show you how good it can me…”

Gulping, Adam’s body prickled with tingles all over his skin. Adam’s breath hitched as Samuel inched closer to him, he could feel Samuel’s body warmth spreading all over. Their hips pressed together, the intense look in Samuel’s blue eyes deepen as he rolled his hips, making Adam gasp.

“Please…” he whispered, pressing his lips to Adam’s. “Please…Adam…”

Inching forward, Adam meet’s Samuel halfway. Their lips touched, pushing together in a deep kiss. Adam sighed deeply, his heart fluttering even more as Samuel immediately began to rock his hips against Adam. He hooked a hand under Adam’s thigh, pulling it over his hip.

Hands pulled at clothes, the heat increasing within the room. They moved from the windowsill to the bed. They fell onto the blankets and quilts, beginning to touch one another in a way that Adam had never experienced before.

“S-Samuel.” Adam gasped.

The other froze for a second. Tensing up for just a few seconds before he relaxed again, running his hot mouth further down Adam’s chest. His lips touching Adam’s nipples, he licks and sucks on the soft flesh. The intensity of his blue eyes made Adam feel shy. He wanted to hide himself; to roll over but Samuel wouldn’t let him.

Adam let out another crying moan as Samuel travelled further down.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll never think of another man again,” Samuel growled possessively. He bites down on Adam’s thigh, marking him as his. “You’re mine, aren’t you Adam? You belong to me, don’t you?”

Rolling his head back, Adam whimpered and whined, “Yes. God yes, Samuel.”

“Good boy.”

The night had been an intoxicating blend of passion and vulnerability, leaving Adam reeling in sensations he hadn’t felt in millennia. As morning’s golden light spilled into the room, it illuminated the tulips resting on the bedside table, their vibrant hues glowing like tiny flames. Adam stirred first, his body both achingly sore and delightfully alive, a testament to the connection he had shared with Samuel.

A soft, contented groan escaped his lips as he blinked against the sunlight, his mind sluggishly catching up to his surroundings. Turning his head, he found Samuel beside him, deeply asleep, his features softened in repose. The quilt barely covered their entwined forms, and the room bore the chaotic evidence of their passion—clothes scattered like fallen leaves, shoes toppled, a chair askew.

Adam's breath hitched. He hadn't done this—felt this—in over ten thousand years. He let out a quiet laugh, equal parts disbelieving and giddy. This was so unlike him, so reckless, yet... so right. Eve had never made his heart race like this, never set his body alight with warmth and longing. But Samuel? Samuel made him feel like he was touching the divine again, even if only for a fleeting moment.

Shifting onto his side, Adam traced Samuel’s face with his eyes, his chest swelling with something he didn’t dare name. His fingers found their way to Samuel’s hair, threading through the soft strands. He twirled a lock between his fingers, noticing its shimmer in the sunlight. A curious frown tugged at his lips. Samuel’s hair had seemed more strawberry blonde before… hadn’t it? He shrugged the thought away, lowering his head onto the pillow as he inched closer, eager to snuggle against the man who had reignited his dormant heart.

But then he froze.

His mind reeled as fragments of the previous night flooded back. Samuel had called him Adam. Not Graham, the alias he’d carefully maintained since coming to Earth. No, Adam. Panic flared in his chest. How could Samuel have known? He couldn’t have.

Tentatively, Adam brushed Samuel’s hair back, his fingers trembling as they revealed a red mark on Samuel’s cheek—bright and unnatural, glowing faintly like a cherry ember. His heart began to pound violently. He stared at the mark, his breath coming in shallow gasps. No. No. No. This wasn’t right. This couldn’t be.

Stirring, a soft hum breaking the silence as Lucifer stretched lazily, his muscles rippling beneath the quilt. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, and Adam’s heart leapt into his throat. Samuel tilted his head, offering a warm, sleepy smile.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice deep and honeyed.

Adam couldn’t respond. His throat tightened as he stared into eyes that weren’t blue anymore but a swirling, unnerving mix of red and gold. His body went cold as he realized the nose that had once given Samuel’s face its charming profile was now… gone. Just smooth skin where it had once been.

Samuel’s—no, Lucifer’s—smile widened as he cocked his head. “Adam? Are you alright?”

Adam’s body locked up. His mind screamed in denial, but he couldn’t form words. Lucifer reached for him, his touch feather light as he cupped Adam’s cheek.

“Was I too rough last night?” Lucifer teased, leaning in for a kiss. “You seem shaken—”

The realization slammed into Adam like a tidal wave, nearly drowning him. Samuel wasn’t Samuel. Samuel was Lucifer.

He’d spent the night tangled in bed with the one being who had caused him the most pain, the most heartbreak, in his existence. This wasn’t a rekindled connection; this was another manipulation, another cruel game in Lucifer’s endless repertoire.

“No!” Adam choked, shoving Lucifer away. Scrambling backward, he tumbled off the bed, hitting the floor with a sharp thud. His vision swam, and his chest heaved with panicked breaths.

Gasping, Lucifer sat up abruptly. “Adam—”

“I mean, Graham—are you okay?” His brows knitted together as he knelt at Adam’s side, his concern almost convincing. “You hit your head,” he murmured, reaching for Adam’s face. “Let me—”

“Don’t touch me!” Adam slapped his hand away, his voice trembling with fury and fear. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing his discarded clothing in frantic handfuls. His mind raced, a cacophony of disbelief and betrayal threatening to overwhelm him.

Lucifer frowned, his golden eyes widening in what looked like genuine confusion. “Graham, what’s wrong? Did I—did I do something? Last night, I thought—”

“Last night was a lie!” Adam hissed, yanking on his clothes. He could barely breathe, his hands shaking violently as he buttoned his shirt. “You—you deceived me. Again! Samuel, or should I say Lucifer!”

Standing slowly, Lucifer’s bare form almost radiant in the sunlight, but Adam refused to look at him.

“I didn’t—Adam, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Lucifer said softly. “Please, let me—”

“Don’t call me that!” Adam shouted, his voice breaking as tears spilled from his eyes. “You don’t get to say my name. You don’t get to… to be here.”

Lucifer’s face fell, the mask of cocky confidence he so often wore slipping away. For a moment, he looked small. Vulnerable.

“Adam,” he whispered, his voice trembling, “I’m not your enemy—”

But Adam was already gone, bolting from the room as his sobs tore through the quiet morning air. He didn’t stop, didn’t look back, even as Lucifer’s voice echoed after him.

“Adam, wait!”

[skyloftian-nutcase]

for writing requests, the chain givin wars a big ol group hug and letting him cry cus let’s be honest bro is not holding up well

Sunsets were always Sky’s favorite.

It was strange, how much a moment in time could change something like that, though. A few evenings ago, the sunset was stained blood read, dripping with anguish and fear, held together by a firm hand and guidance. It hadn’t come from their leader, however - the Hero of Time had been completely consumed by worry over Twilight’s condition, and Sky hadn’t blamed him for it, particularly after finding out they had a blood connection.

But after that initial horrifying sunset, Sky found that the dusk brought only exhaustion and melancholy, a worry that there would be another sunset that would stain the sky with blood.

Sighing, the young knight glanced out his window and saw the person he’d been looking for. While Time had been by Twilight’s side that entire evening, there had been another Hero who everyone had heavily relied on. Sky had tried to mediate and help as best he could as well, but he paled in comparison, certainly in terms of leadership capabilities.

But everything had a toll. Sky could see it well enough.

Exiting the inn, Sky heard the gentle serenade of crickets filling the air as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. The town was not as peaceful and quiet as camping out in the woods, but it held a warm sense of safety that they usually didn’t have the luxury to enjoy. Any town gave Sky a small degree of anxiety, as they were all foreign to him, but settlements like this put the captain at ease far more than anyone else.

At least Sky knew Warriors could get some peace somewhere. It was obvious the man was trying to seek it.

Warriors heard Sky’s approach, turning his head slightly. His sharp eyes were analyzing him in an instant.

“Hey,” Sky greeted softly, trying to settle the man’s worries; he’d been on high alert ever since Twilight’s injury, and he’d yet to calm down. It had been three days since then. “I just wanted to check on you.”

Warriors blinked, baffled a moment, not expecting such a remark, and then he huffed out a small laugh. “Me? I’m alright. Are you?”

Him? Sky was fine. Sky was always fine. He honestly didn’t feel much of anything anymore, except that sunsets made him anxious. He hoped that would settle eventually, as he did love them. “I’m okay. But I just… you’ve been on edge, you know. Since everything. Do you… our Ordonian is going to be okay now. They said so. You know that, right?”

“Of course I know that,” Warriors replied, his smile fading, voice growing slightly snappish.

“It’s just… you’re not acting like you know that,” Sky continued carefully. “You’re… anything sets you off. Everything has to be in perfect order, everyone has to be on their best behavior. You know? I just… wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Warriors watched him for a long time, face blank. His eyes steadily moved downward until they were staring at nothing, boring a hole in the cobblestone beneath Sky’s feet. The Skyloftian waited patiently, knowing when to be silent and let someone else process. Eventually, the captain sighed heavily.

“You were a great help that night,” Warriors said softly. “I wanted to thank you.”

“It was nothing,” Sky brushed off. “That’s not answering my question.”

Warriors huffed ruefully in response. “You’re not usually this persistent.”

“No,” Sky admitted. “But I’m not usually this worried, either.”

The captain’s eyes finally snapped back up to meet Sky’s. His stony expression softened, and he smiled gently. “I said I’m alright.”

“You can be, yeah,” Sky commented. “Like… you don’t have to wrangle everyone in now, you know. I’m here. Our leader’s getting back into, well… leading. It’s okay to step back.”

Something in the captain’s expression wasn’t quite readable, a kind of strange gentle amusement and haunting sadness. Sky wasn’t sure what to do about it. So he just walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Warriors seemed both inquisitive and slightly apprehensive at the touch, so Sky asked to be sure, “Can I hug you?”

The captain looked as if he didn’t even know what to say with such a request. He blinked once, twice, before a breathy laugh escaped his lips, eyes holding a tenderness to them that Sky wasn’t sure he’d ever seen in them. “Yeah. Yeah, you can.”

Sky smiled in return, leaning in and letting the captain wrap his arms around him. Sky gave what he received, not squeezing too tightly when Warriors’ embrace was hesitantly gentle. As they stood there, though, it seemed like the older knight settled into his predicament a bit more, letting himself relax as Sky held him tighter. Being a little shorter, Sky settled his ear against Warriors’ shoulder, and the gesture made the captain shift a little, resting his own head against Sky’s. His breath was shaky a moment, and Sky heard him swallow thickly.

It only lasted a few moments, but it was enough. Sky ached for the contact, honestly, and wished he could hug him more, but he knew better than to push the matter. Slowly, the two pulled apart. If Warriors’ face was a little more flushed than before, neither of them commented on it.

“Thanks, Sky,” the captain said quietly.

Sky’s smile was brighter than the sunset. “Anytime.”

[luimagines]

*walks on in tiredly, waves, leaves a basket of baked goodies, refuses to elaborate as i promptly leave to pass out for sixteen hours* Well hello there, it’s been a while since I left an ask, life’s gotten busy lol.

Anyway! Once again thank you for all of your work in the fandom and for writing so much for the boys, it’s always a delight to curl up after a hard day with a warm drink and just read everything, it never fails to put a smile on my face and make my day a little brighter, so once again, thank you ^^.

(Also I know this is properly incredibly late but happy anniversary to the blog! I haven’t been able to sit down and just write much of anything for a while else I’d have probably said this sooner, sorry about that.)

Also, uh, beware a long ask ahead? This idea has been consuming me alongside Assassin Reader with Warriors and Lustrous Reader and it’s kind of been intruding in the space the fairy tale au should be at while I’m writing it + Linktober, hope you don’t mind me just sharing it here so it hopefully leaves my system lol.

So I don’t really expect many people in the LU fandom to know about Mili (who is a japanese indie band, really good songs), but I’ve been listening to Summoning 101 and then suddenly blacked out and woke up with the idea of Twilight with an au with Summoner Reader (or any of the boys really, I feel like it would work well for any of them, but especially so for Twi, Time and First).

-So the gist of it would be that Summoner Reader is probably from a world where both magic and modern technology exist (albeit with some challenges and friction between magic users and scientists), probably a little more advanced than Wild’s world. And that they themselves had a Link and a Zelda, a Link on his own journey and a Zelda who was incapacitated but probably trying to get back to them, Summoner Reader gets roped into the adventure because they were close to Link and was really knowledgeable of magic, making several attempts to mix it with science which got them mostly ostricized from society, and they know a lot of Hyrule’s history so he asked for their help in locating Zelda, Summoner Reader agreeing because it would allow them to keep an eye on Link and also gather ingredients to hopefully make a breakthrough that would guarantee many of Hyrule’s older enemies like say, Ganon or Vaati or the like would stay permanently down, even if it means shunting them off somewhere else before they could be sealed to try and break the cycle of reincarnation (I mean if the enemy can’t be killed but can be sealed, then surely there’s some way of sending them back to the netherworld where they came from and make sure they stayed there). Surely nothing could possibly go wrong in the middle of this adventure-

-So. 

Things go wrong in the middle of the adventure.

Link dies sort of things go wrong. 

(Either in battle trying to protect Summoner Reader or trying to get Zelda back, or because at some point Summoner Reader overextended themselves healing him and he was just like, ‘Yeah no I’m not dragging them down with me after this one, I can accept the cost of my wellbeing to save my homeland, I do not accept Summoner’s life being added to the cost.’ And ended up going off on his own, Summoner Reader catching up and, despite their best efforts, being unable to heal him, to the amusement of a certain Darknut shaped shadow.)

So Summoner Reader very clearly panics because none of the stories says there can’t be a hero, and there was no one who is capable enough to take up the mantle (I mean they’re a magician and they know for a fact they’re not hero material, and as far as they know there has only ever been one hero per generation/crisis, even if one crisis is mostly only put on hold until another one can come around and finish it), so they think and think and think, until finally they look at the Master Sword, dormant and silent in it’s scabbard that they had to pry off their Link’s long stiff hands hands, and have an idea.

It’s an insane, foolhardy, and incredibly selfish idea. 

But it can work. It can finish what their Link started, it can save their Zelda.

(It can help ease some of the guilt they feel at failing them both.)

So, they get to work, get some decomposing Wolfos fangs, a lot more powdered moonlight than is probably advised, the Master Sword (it could find things once upon a time couldn’t it? So what if it burns their hands, they will make this work, it will work with the last ingredient they’ll use, it will be worth it-), some of their own blood for the circle-

And half a Hylian.

Desperation drives one to do awful things. If they had enough time maybe they could perfect the spell, if they had enough time maybe Link would have still been there to talk them out of it, for finding a better way-

But their Link isn’t there anymore, is he? And they never had enough time.

(All the stories say is that there has to be a hero, never which one.)

(Summoner Reader was trying to pull literally anyone over that fit the bill,  but I like to think that they were specifically aiming for Fierce Deity while using the remaining power of the Master Sword  and well, since he’s sealed in a mask it kind of just targeted the next closest thing he’s related to, maybe he felt a tug in the mask and kept Time up about it and the poor guy is just very over it  lol)

-So now this can be pre-LU or during LU, but the gist of it, is that because Summoner Reader used decomposing Wolfos fangs, the one they end up pulling through the ritual is Twilight (who maybe was on a journey of his own looking for another way into the Twilight Realm like in the TP manga, maybe because Dusk cryptically informed him there were magical disturbances going on where the mirror once was during one of their weekly wine times or something and he immediately took up the quest).

Needless to say none of them trust one another and there’s a lot of complicated feelings going on there (with Twilight still holding some hope that maybe it was the Twili and promptly being smacked over the head with a brick that it wasn’t and Summoner Reader feeling bad they pulled him into all this and over the demise (hah) of their Link and promptly deciding they’re going to A: Not get attached and B: Not let it happen again so help them goddesses).

The plan is that things will be solved and then they’ll go their separate ways, surely it’s simple enough of a goal to achieve.

Right?

-Things do not, in fact, go according to plan, and these two end up catching feelings along the journey, but end up not saying anything to each other because they’re both terrified of trying to say anything and then immediately losing one another at the end of the journey. Except the choice ends up being robbed of them anyway because an enemy (Dark Link as a monster and already up to his shenanigans being the logical option, the funnier option {for me} being a version of Zant from Summoner Reader’s verse that Twi has already decided It’s On Sight on Principle) catching onto the fact that Twilight should not be there and targeting Summoner Reader and, since they used themselves as a tether to bring and keep Twilight there, immediately ends up opening a road to send him back where he should be. Summoner Reader trying their darnest to pull him back and keep him there and Twilight trying to hold onto them-

But they’re attacked a second time, it causes their hold to slip.

The last thing Twilight sees before he falls through is Summoner Reader crumble to the floor like a puppet with it’s strings cut, and next thing they both know-

He’s gone.

(As you may guess, neither side takes this turn of events well.)

-So! If this is pre-LU, Twilight is eventually called by Dusk again and meets the Chain and, remembering what Summoner Reader did, basically went “... Mysteriously opening portals you say?” and doesn’t ask further questions. If anyone notices he’s a little more aggressive to the Shadow than any of them, or that he always look a little disappointed after looking at the portals, well, they won’t ask the same way they don’t ask about Wolfie. Everyone of them has their secrets they’re not ready to share yet, it will come up in time when he’s ready. 

-Meanwhile Summoner Reader, who’s barely managed to escape alive, hastily gotten themselves healed, has way too much coffee and energy potions in their system and with zero sleep, just managed to break out Zelda on their own after a series of Shenanigans, hastily recreating the ritual on the ground while the Princess is trying her best to hold off Ganondorf on their own so they can finish it even as the Master Sword is quite literally trying to burn their hands off and sacrificing all of their years of research to make this work darn it: Surely it will work this time right? If it worked once then it can work again right? *trying to convince themselves and has been actively overextending themselves even more than they already are*

-Next thing they know the Chain is yanked through another portal, much more violently than the last few times, in the middle of a battle, is that Ganondorf?! Why is the Princess fighting alone? Wait why is Twilight rushing over to that fallen person- is that the Master Sword?!

After they’re done with the urgent matters they are definitely cornering the Rancher for answers.

(For context, Summoner Reader didn’t give up on trying to bring Twilight back, because again, they didn’t finish their quest, and he didn’t want to go, that’s reason enough to bring him back. But due to the Chain being all in one place it was harder to find him among them, so they got… creative, and paid a more extreme price for it in spite of Zelda trying to dissuade them because they were sacrificing all they had. It’s a grand ol’ time.)

Huh, in hindsight this could also connect nicely to a Ga1ahad and Scientific Witchery au. 

Anyway that’s all I’ll  elaborate on for now, because this is long enough as is and I’m tired, sorry for the sudden writing dump lol.

In any case, thank you so much for all of your work in the fandom, remember to take care and thank you so much for inspiring me to write more! I hope you’re having a good day/afternoon/night.

-From A Very Tired WintertimeStoryteller 🐚.

This took a while to get to but woah it was worth the wait.

Frist of all. How dare you? DX

Why must you hurt my boy, Twilight, like this again???

Also, Reader is like.... totally dead. ^.^*

They were being held together with bubble gum, duck tape, and sheer power of will. That last summons would have been enough to put them in a coma. Summoning that many people while being that weak would have definitely caused some organs to shut down. If not just have them drop dead entirely.

I wanna see Twilight see their body, attempt to get to them only to be blocked, and then absolutely lose his mind.

Forget turning into Wolfie. Twilight goes straight feral. Full barbarian- "I would like to Rage," sort of thing.