achitoir-blog

[seresinhangmanjake]

Hey! I saw you were accepting Feyd requests and I got so excited! Could you do something where Feyd and reader have been married for a little while, have been pretty stand-offish and just keeping up appearances. They get into a fight over something stupid, saying hurtful things because reader still believes Feyd is incapable of feelings. Turns out he’s really protective though and gets seriously injured saving her during an attack? Reader panics trying to help him and the feels super guilty, meanwhile Feyd is enjoying the attention.

Staining

Feyd-Rautha x reader

Notes/Warnings: It's slightly different, but I hope you like it anyway. Mentions of blood and death. Smut so 18+. I'm sure there's typos. I think that's it.

Words: 4100

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

“You’re heartless”—that’s what you spit at him after watching him rip apart another family right before your eyes. 

He slaughtered a man for a petty crime, and then you had to watch what would become of the wife and children. 

He gave them options, of course. He presents all of them with a choice: to be servants for his House or to fight for survival in the slums of Giedi Prime. For the mother, it likely means you’ll have a new handmaid. For the boys, they will be trained so they can one day face off in the arena. Either way, it's no life.

As he announced the options for their future, you couldn’t look away from her: the woman whose husband lay at her feet, the blood drained from his body as she attempted to shield her two young sons behind her small frame. You watched her kind eyes go permanently wide out of shock. She needed to answer your husband’s question, give a response to his merciful offer, but she couldn’t. Nothing on her moved save for the grip she had on her boys, which only tightened the longer she stared at her dead lover. 

You knew what would happen to them. Your husband found her silence and inability to snap out of her trace irritating. She would make a poor handmaid if she could not listen. The boys, however, could still make fine warriors—guaranteed entertainment a few years down the line. 

So he separated them. Allowed the guards to pry them away from their mother’s fingers—who left her state of shock behind only when she felt them being ripped from her hands—before dragging them to cells with tears streaming down their round cheeks. 

Their mother collapsed to the floor by her dead husband. His blood soaked her skirts. You didn’t know how a man could do this to his own people for something as simple as the theft of some food, but he does, and often. Then he had her thrown out, back to the slums where she came from. 

She’ll never see her boys again. If you know your husband, he will likely one day force the two to face off with each other in the arena. After all, that’s where his uncle finds entertainment, and your husband will do anything to please the old man. 

Long after his guards have departed with the woman, you’re still staring at the body on the floor. The red around him is congealing. If you run your finger through it, the digit will return sticky and thickly coated. He’ll stain your skin. He’ll stain through your skin onto your insides. He’ll never come off. 

He’s like your husband, you think. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen stained you, and impressively, he didn’t even have to touch you to achieve that. Simply being in his presence was enough to leave his mark, and you’re in his presence plenty, just not how you imagined you would be when you married him. You imagined being in his bed. You imagined kisses and loving caresses and sweet words—that kind of staining. But you were a naive girl when your parents dropped you off on this planet, and you quickly learned how to be a woman; a woman whose husband only uses her for formality’s sake. 

You don’t know why you have to be by his side for this, though, but he always ensures that you are. The two of you…a solidified front to the world, as if you agree with the choices he makes and the punishment he doles out to those who don’t deserve it.

So that’s why you say it. Because you’re tired of this, tired of being silent, hating the idea that your silence might lead him to think the two of you are on the same page; that you’re a team. 

“You’re heartless.”

His head whips to you. “Heartless…” His voice around the word is vile; thick and rich like the blood on the floor. With a few steps in your direction he is in your space and you clasp your hands in front of you, fingers squeezing tightly to keep yourself from running off. He stares down at you, a luminous blue that you found so stunningly gorgeous when you first met him now a pair of frozen icicles stabbing into your skull. “I’m heartless?”

Your swallow is rough. Dry and scratchy. 

“I’m not the one who steals from his neighbors. I’m not the one who risks leaving his wife alone for the rest of her life,” he says. “They know the laws. They know the consequences.”

“And the woman? She deserves to be alone, rotting away in poor living conditions because of his choice? Her children deserve to die for your entertainment?”

“You take issue with how I handle things?”

“Yes.”

Feyd’s back teeth clench. His jaw sets in a sharp line. “Another reason for you to hate me then,” he grits out.

You blink. Your lips part. Another reason? You don’t have multiple reasons, and there’s certainly nothing you’ve done to indicate that you do. You used to hate that he didn’t, and doesn’t, care about you, but you’ve never said a word about it. You’ve never bothered him about sleeping in separate rooms or asked him to give you anything of himself. This—his treatment of his people in situations like this one—isn’t another reason. It’s the reason. 

“You could deal with these matters differently,” you say.

His fingers form balls at his sides. His mouth opens. It closes. He shakes his head and walks past you but pauses before he is completely out of your peripherals. “This is how things are done here,” he says. “You’ve been my wife for five months now. You need to get used to it.”

—

You don’t get used to it. You don’t get used to it because he doesn’t demand you be by his side at his executions anymore. Not after that day. 

You’d never spoken up before that moment, and it cost you what little interaction you had with your husband, which you despise to say was precious. You may not love him, and at times hate him, but he is the only thing you have on this planet. Little as you spoke to one another before, you held onto it because no one else gives a damn about you. Not that he does either, but at least he would give you a word or two. His brother and the Baron don’t bother, leaving you to Feyd to decide what to do with and when to do it. 

However, you imagine they didn’t expect that he would never touch you, and based on the way they watch you and Feyd when you’re forced to join the Harkonnen’s for dinner, you imagine they’re now aware that whatever was between you—minute as it was—is gone. He doesn’t even call on you for formal events. He no longer cares about showing a unified front to the other Great Houses. But you do.

You know what reputation means to the Harkonnens, and regardless of how you feel about the history of Feyd’s choices, you’re not willing to present your life on Giedi Prime as a failure. The two of you are too young for whispers to spread among influential families of a tainted marriage, a crack in the system. You don’t need questions floating about in regards to a unification that will not result in an heir. The end of the Harkonnen line, they’ll say, as Rabban, much older than your husband, has yet to choose a wife. How unfortunate, they’ll slyly mutter around the rims of their champagne glasses. And you’re not ready for that. 

So, with the exception of executions, you attend the events your husband does not invite you to anymore. You make sure your face is seen, especially when most vital. At his meetings, at his fights in the arena, and at Harkonnen parties such as this one. 

People enjoy themselves here. Shockingly, a few strong drinks eases the tension between Houses, and Giedi Prime has the strongest drinks of them all. It’s a tactic. A genius one, if you’re honest. The Baron invites his guests and gets them in a good mood and strikes deals one cannot go back on. Brilliant. Something you might have thought of yourself if your husband let you share your thoughts; thoughts you have plenty of. But no one cares how you would rule this planet if you had a say in its future.

You watch the Houses mingle about. You watch them laugh and dance. You watch them watch your husband. You watch them watch you. You watch the wheels turn in their alcohol-addled brains. You roll your eyes at what he doesn’t see. 

Ungluing yourself from your designated spot, you step up the staircase that leads to the Harkonnen men, your husband and his brother flanking the throne the Baron sits upon. You don’t think to speak to any of them; you didn’t break away from your assigned location for words. Instead, for all to see, you reach up to cup Feyd’s cheek and turn his head toward you for the first kiss since the day of your wedding. A gentle brush of lips. A buzz more engulfing than any drink could offer.

He freezes, and when you pull back his lips are still parted. His eyes open slowly and he stares down at you in awed confusion. How he doesn’t understand why you’ve done what you’ve done is just short of bewildering, but it doesn’t seem to click. 

“You–”

“I’m going to retire for the night,” you tell him. You’ve been at this party long enough, and the guests have now seen what they needed to see. Not to mention, their tipsy state means they’ll soon forget any thoughts they have about you until morning. They’ll stop searching for your presence. 

You don’t wait for your husband’s nod of approval. You’re pretty sure he doesn’t care where you are at any given time anyway, so you descend the staircase and exit the grand room into the hall that leads to your bedroom.

The echo of footsteps follows and you’re bold enough to believe it could be Feyd before a blade is pressed against your throat from behind. For a moment, you think it still might be your husband—retaliation for the kiss that re-sparked a feeling you’ve been trying to ignore since you married him—but the voice in your ear is feminine. 

“He killed my husband, my Lady,” the voice says, and you instantly remember her. It’s been two months but nothing could make you forget the look in her eyes. “I want my sons.”

You swallow hard. The blade nicks your throat from the additional force. A droplet trickles down your neck. “I can’t return your sons to you,” you tell her, at the same time questioning how she infiltrated such a secure place. But you suppose with the number of guests, slipping in would not have been the most difficult of challenges. 

You wince at the deepening cut. Your heartbeat quickens, doing little to aid in stopping the blood seeping from your wound. “You’re the na-Baronness.”

“I have little power here.”

“I don’t care!” she shouts, her words bouncing off the walls. “I want my boys,” and you think now she’s crying. Her tone alters. Something catches in her throat. “What’s happened to them?”

You don't wish to tell her, but you’re in no position to deny her requests. “They’re alive and well,” you say, which isn’t a complete lie. The Baron prefers strong, well-fed fighters—the duels last longer that way. 

“I want them back!”

“As much as I would like to, I cannot give them back to you. It’s not my decision.”

“Then I’ll take you from him,” she spits. “The way he took mine.”

You must’ve put on a grander show than you expected with that kiss because she seems to fully believe that your death would matter to him. But you know he won’t blink an eye. He might even thank her. Reward her by reuniting her with her sons, though unlikely. 

“He won’t care,” you tell her. 

“I have seen him, my Lady. He will care,” she says, and you don’t know how she could possibly come to that conclusion or why. It’s not as if the people of Giedi Prime sense a kind capability from the Harkonnens. “He will–”

She chokes. The blade trembles then drops from your neck. You quickly glance down to find Feyd’s knife deep in her side. 

Many things are a mystery to you in that moment. Why he bothered to leave the party; why he came down this hall of all halls, especially when his room resides in another; and why he pierced her side rather than go for the neck, which would have instantly ended her. His mistake. An uncharacteristic mistake.

The woman whips around, freeing you, and you stumble out of reach. They’re a blur of battling bodies as you get your footing, but then it catches up with you—the pain. Your hand goes to your neck and you make a little noise at the sting of your fresh wound. Your mistake. 

Feyd looks away from her in search of you for a single second. Not even. A half-second. But the woman is smaller, quicker, and the distraction is enough. Her blade slides into his abdomen. He grunts. You gasp.

He regains his focus and, by her hair, he rips her head back to expose her throat and shoves the blade through her neck. Blood spurts across his chest as he removes the weapon, and she collapses to her knees before the rest of her body flops to the floor. 

Feyd takes a shaky step back, staring down at the blade in his torso. He drops his knife and his hand goes to the hilt of the other. 

“No, don’t!” you yell, but you’re too late. He jerks the blade out and it clatters on the ground. His palm does nothing to stop the flow of crimson. 

Rushing to him, you fall to the floor as he does. You press your hands on top of his to keep the pressure but it’s useless. “Don’t you know anything?” you mutter. “You should’ve kept the damn thing in.”

He chuckles. The bastard actually chuckles. Then his other hand raises and lands on top of yours. You think he’s trying to add more pressure, but his touch is gentle. His thumb runs over your knuckles. 

“It’s alright,” he says, and you’ve never heard his voice so devoid of depth and strength.

“No, it’s not,” you retort, irritated. 

“You still hate me?”

“Shut up!” you snap. “Help!” Yanking the black chiffon sleeve off your gown, it tears free and you ball the material to shove it against his wound. “Help!” 

Guards burst through the doors and run to you. You sigh with relief, but when you look down, your husband is paler than you’ve ever seen him. 

“Feyd…” 

You’re shoved out of the way in a second, flung to the side like a flicked-away ant, and then he’s taken from you. You watch them until he’s out of view. When you glance down at your hands, they’re stained with him. 

—

They bandaged your neck in mere minutes and you find it aggrivating that they couldn’t work as efficiently on him. You’ve been dead silent for hours now, expecting to hear screams of pain as they stitch him back together, but then you remember he’s a glutton for pain. He’s probably enjoying it, the sick bastard. But you’re not enjoying it—the waiting, the limbo. It’s torturous. 

You’ve never seen him hurt before. You’ve witnessed his skills in the arena, and not once in your seven months of marriage has someone gotten a decent slash on him. 

Guilt hits you hard as you recall that it’s your fault. That woman was skilled as well—you suppose she would be if she was raised to live where she did—but if you hadn’t made that noise, if you hadn’t distracted him, she would’ve been dead before she could do her damage. This wouldn’t have happened. 

Just then, a knock comes at your door. You speak for them to enter and a guard peeks into your room. “My Lady…” he says, and you pray you’re not about to be told your husband didn’t survive a single stab wound. “You can come with me.”

You don’t wait around for more. You hop to your feet and quickly follow through hall after hall until you’re at his room. 

“What will I see when I walk in there?” you ask. 

“He’s fine, my Lady,” he says, bowing his head to dismiss himself before returning to his post. 

Turning the knob, you edge the door open and step inside. The bed is in immediate view, but he’s not in it. He’s not in it and he should be. Not even the covers are pulled back. Maybe the guard misled you. If he were fine, surely he would be resting. 

You make your way in further. 

“You’re here.” 

Your head snaps to your right where he’s leaning against the lone table in his room, a lit orb on the wooden surface illuminating him from behind in a white glow. He’s less pale than he was; what little rosiness he once had returned to his skin. 

Clearing your throat, you say, “I was told to come.”

“Because I told them to bring you,” he says. 

Your heart pounds at the bareness of his torso, the thickness of his arms as they cross in front of his chest. It pounds in a different way, an off-kilter way, when you notice the dressings wrapped around his waist and the patch of blood that is seeping through three layers of it. 

He must see your distraction because he says, “It’s fine.” Your eyes flick back to his. A beat of silence passes between you. You’re unsure how to continue now that he’s seen the concern you have for him. “I suppose you’re disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” you repeat. “What for?”

“I’m alive.”

Your jaw drops ever so slightly. You recover as best you can before you say, “Feyd, I don’t want you to—I’ve never wanted you to–”

He holds up his hand, cutting you off. “I’m going to listen to you.”

Your brow pinches. Why did he silence you, then? “Listen to me about what?”

He takes a deep breath, an action that lifts his shoulders and has them falling heavily back down. His eyes penetrate you as they’ve always done, but the iciness is gone. “I don’t care if the people I hurt want to kill me,” he starts. “But she didn’t come to kill me; she came to hurt me by killing you. So I will listen to your thoughts when it comes to dealing with matters like that one.” He pauses, expecting a response, but you don’t quite know what to give him, so he continues. “Your voice will make fewer enemies.”

“You care about making enemies?” Since when would a Harkonnen ever care about such a thing? Especially when they are known for doing that thing so well.

“I care when they come after my wife,” he says. Pushing off the table, he leisurely steps toward you. You’re stuck to your spot. “The men of my House do not have a history of caring about their wives. They’ve never cared if their actions bring them harm, and yet, people have used our wives as pawns for revenge for centuries. Many have died to prove a point. I’m not going to let you be one of them.”

He stops only to not collide with your body. You have to look up to maintain eye contact, and when you do, his breath brushes over your lips. “Why didn’t you kill her when you could have? You stabbed her in the side. You avoided vital organs.”

“Because you wouldn’t have wanted me to kill her if I didn’t have to,” he says. “So I didn’t kill her…until I had to.”

You suck in a sharp breath. You didn’t know he was capable of such restraint. You didn’t know he had enough fragments of a heart to glue together to keep him from doing exactly as he pleases. 

His hand lands on your hip and his thumb begins to rub up and down over the curve of it. He hasn’t touched you…ever. In fact, he’s seemed over the months to deliberately avoid it. Like your skin would burn him even through the fabric of your gowns. Anytime it looked like he would try, he’d pull back before flesh grazed flesh. 

“You hadn’t kissed me since we married,” he says, so gentle in that low voice that it’s practically a whisper. It doesn’t make the heat of his breath any less intense against your skin. 

“People were watching too intensely,” you inform him. “They were thinking something was wrong between us, I could tell, and I didn’t want to give them that power over you.”

“So that was it, then?” he asks. “That’s the only reason you did it?”

“That’s–” you swallow, debating whether or not to say it, to give him more. 

“What?”

“That’s the reason I did it,” you decide to tell him, and his face shifts; his features alter in a manner you’ve never seen. He looks down to his feet. He nods and his touch disappears, and now you feel cold and you hate it. “But that’s not the only reason I wanted to do it.”

He freezes as he did before. For a moment, his chest stops rising and falling with expected breaths. When his tongue darts out to wet his lips, he raises his head. 

You can’t stop staring, even though your brain is telling you to get ahold of yourself. His mouth is so plush. You’ve always known it. It’s always done something to you. And whatever that something is, it’s more potent now that he’s so close and you can see his lips glistening in the low light. 

“Will you do it again?” he asks.

Again? You didn’t imagine he wanted you to do it the first time, or the second. The first was an obligation. The second was not exactly mutually agreed upon. But as he stands in front of you, asking, you can’t bring yourself to say no. You don’t want to say no. So you say yes, and you inch up on your toes until your lips meet his. 

Immediately, he’s yanking your body flush against his. His hand goes into your hair, and he parts his lips so they can better lock with yours. He’s good at this, and you don’t want to think about why, can’t think about why without a knot of jealousy settling in your gut that only dissipates when those hands travel down your body to the back of your thighs. You’re in the air, your legs wrapped around his waist, your lips still sealed for one second more before your back hits the mattress and he’s on top of you with his leg shoving between yours, nudging your thighs open for him. 

You don’t know the exact moment it happens, but your skirts are up to your waist and he’s inside of you, moving in and out, kissing your neck and pulling gasps from your throat, and it feels right, good, like pieces falling together. A bit of you feels guilty for that. That you can know what he’s done to people and still want to feel the pleasure of every inch that he’s giving you. You’re selfish, maybe that’s it. Maybe you’ve always been and you didn’t know it. You can’t bring yourself to care as he makes those deep noises in your ear and stains your insides.

After you’re sated, you lay there for a while with him in your arms and his arms wrapped around your waist. His head rests on your chest. You think about the things you’ve done to each other in the course of an hour and it brings a blush to your cheeks. You think about how you can’t go back and that you don’t want to. You’ve wanted this from the beginning, despite what he’s done. You expected it when you married him only to be sorely disappointed at his lack, or what appeared as a lack, of interest. You’re definitely selfish, at least when it comes to him. But you refuse to be when it comes to other matters.

“I want something from you,” you say. He hums, content. “I want us to take in that woman's boys.”

[pedroscurls]

Absolutely no obligation to answer if you aren't taking requests, but could I ask for Hugh x reader? Like Blake and Ryan trying hard to play wingman for them both at an event, only to find out the two have been quietly together/hooking up for a few weeks? Whether it be angsty or fluffy is your choice! 🙂

our little secret (one-shot)

summary: ryan and blake try to set you and hugh up, but little do they know, you've already been secretly seeing each other. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader content warnings: smut (18+, mdni) - unprotected p in v (creampie oops, be safe folks), fingering, oral - f receiving, hugh bends you over 🙂‍↕️, no use of y/n. word count: 2.7k a/n: i'm catching up to all the requests that have been sitting in my askbox, so thank you for waiting on this! i know you said it could be angsty or fluffy, but it actually instead became smutty lmao. i had a lot of fun writing this lol - love the sneaking around and eventually getting caught trope 🤭 as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman.

The entire night, you and Hugh steal glances from across the room. Either he’s with Ryan or some other group of people that he’s talking to and you’re either with Blake or on the dance floor dancing with her. You can feel the pull you have towards Hugh, yearning to be pulled into his arms but you have to refrain. You have to resist.

No one knows that you’re seeing each other, that you’ve been secretly having a very intimate relationship with him. Neither of you are ready for everyone else to know, so you try to keep your distance. Try not to make it so obvious that you just want him.

“I think you and Hugh should go talk,” Blake grins, nudging you with her arm.

You shrug nonchalantly, doing your best to look uninterested. “I don’t know, Blake.”

“Just one conversation,” she says. “You never know what can happen.”

Oh, you know exactly what would happen. If you and Hugh get a chance to speak tonight, you know that you wouldn’t be able to hide this secret any longer. Especially since the entire time so far, you’ve been trying to think of ways to sneak away from Blake and see Hugh. It’s such a busy event, such a huge party that even if you did try to sneak away with Hugh, someone would see the both of you.

And neither of you need that right now.

“If we somehow get to talking, then sure. Right now, I’m just focused on me.”

Blake narrows her eyes. “I can bring him over here and–”

“Blake,” you interrupt. “Seriously, I’m okay.”

Blake sighs. “Fine, okay. But if he comes up to you on his own, you’ll at least talk to him?”

“Sure. Would be rude of me to just leave if he tries to have a conversation with me,” you point out.

“Ryan and I just think you’d be so good together,” she replies.

“You think I’d be good with anyone,” you laugh.

“That’s because anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“Aw, Blake… It’s a bit early for all these compliments, don’t you think?” you tease.

Blake rolls her eyes. “You’re right. I usually need a couple of more drinks before I get to that point.”

“Okay, ha ha. Can we go back out there and dance?”

“Yes, baby, let’s go.” She takes your hand and leads you to the dancefloor, glancing over her shoulder to see Ryan and Hugh staring at the both of you.

—

“So…” Ryan smirks, watching the way Hugh’s eyes linger on your frame. “You obviously think she’s–”

“No,” he interrupts, pulling his eyes away from you. When Hugh saw you for the first time that night, he had realized just how difficult it would be to keep things a secret. You look so beautiful, the dress clinging to every curve, and he wanted nothing more than to just take you away from this party so that he could have you to himself.

But Hugh tries to remember the conversation you had with him. This has to be a secret for a little while longer, just to see if this is more than just physical attraction. Hugh agreed, but the more time he spent with you, the more he wanted to get to know you. The sex was amazing, but the conversations you had with each other afterwards were just as great.

“Oh come on!” Ryan chuckles. “You should at least talk to her.”

“Not interested,” Hugh lies. “Besides, I already talked to her at your dinner party. She’s nice, sweet, but that’s all it is.”

Ryan arches a brow. “Seemed like you two hit it off that night.”

“Just being polite,” Hugh replies.

“Well, I think you should go and talk to her. See what can happen.”

“Ryan, no.” His eyes deviate to you and he tries to keep his eyes above your shoulder, but he can��t help but let his eyes take in your frame, your hips swaying effortlessly to the rhythm of the song. Clearing his throat, Hugh shakes his head and instead turns his back to the dancefloor.

“Let me be your wingman, Hugh,” he says excitedly. “All we gotta do is walk over there, dance a bit, and then–”

“I’m gonna get some fresh air.” Hugh interjects with a sigh. He knows if he stands here another minute that he’s going to break and he’s going to give in to Ryan because he wants you so badly. Even as he’s walking away from Ryan, he turns to look over his shoulder to see your eyes glued onto him. He gives you a subtle nod and steps outside, glancing around to see that no one but him is there.

With a sigh, he runs a hand over his face and lets out a sigh. Hugh likes you a lot and he’s become tired of keeping this, keeping you a secret. His mind begins to drift when he feels a gentle hand on his back and he turns to look down at you, a smile immediately lining his lips.

“Hey there, stranger,” you say quietly.

Even under the moonlight, you look so beautiful. Hugh reaches out for your hand, yearning to pull you into him and give you a kiss. “You’re really killing me with that dress you got on.”

“You like?” you smile, twirling in front of him.

“Oh, I love it,” Hugh winks. “Would look better if it was on the floor.”

“Oh, you’re naughty tonight.” you let out a quiet giggle. “What would you do if I told you I wasn’t wearing any panties?”

Hugh’s eyes widen and his gaze darkens. “Are you?”

You shake your head slowly. “Nope.”

“And you’re calling me the naughty one,” Hugh whispers, taking a step closer to you as his other hand moves to your hip, bunching up your dress in a tight fist. “Ryan’s been trying to get me to talk to you.”

“Oh?” you ask quietly, hand moving up to rest on his chest. “Blake’s been doing the same. I think they’re trying to play matchmaker.”

“They don’t know we’ve been seeing each other for the last few weeks,” Hugh chuckles, eyes drifting to your lips. “But seeing you tonight… It’s been really difficult to keep this a secret.”

“I know,” you sigh. “I see how the other women are looking at you tonight and I can’t blame them.”

“Not looking at them though.”

“But if you want to, you know you can… We aren’t really exclusive and–”

“I want to be,” Hugh interrupts. “I know we’re still testing out the waters, seeing if this is only physical, but I like you.”

“You know, I didn’t expect to have this conversation tonight…” you say quietly.

“Am I misreading this?” Hugh sighs, pulling away from you but you pull him back to you.

“No, I like you too. I just didn’t–” you bite your lower lip. “I just didn’t want to scare you away if I told you that I want this. That I want you. Only you.”

Hugh tries to hide the smile from appearing on his lips. He looks into your eyes and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “You like me, huh?”

“I do…”

Hugh then steps closer, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you flush against him. “Good because I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Your hand moves up to gently grip the lapel of his jacket. “Please,” you whisper. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night and–”

Hugh leans down and presses his lips against yours, hand gripping your hip. He wastes no time in moving his lips with yours, hand slowly dipping lower and lower to your backside. You gasp against his lips, reaching behind you to grab his wrist.

“Mmm, not yet,” you whisper, pulling away slowly.

Hugh’s about to lean in to give you another kiss when you both hear Blake and Ryan’s voices.

“I fucking knew it!” Ryan quips, finger pointing in your direction.

“And here we were, trying to get you two together!” Blake laughs.

You lean against Hugh whose arm still remains wrapped around you. “Surprise?”

Blake rolls her eyes playfully and walks up to you, pulling you into a hug. “Surprise indeed.”

Ryan grins, clapping a hand on Hugh’s shoulder. “So, how long?”

“Since the night of your dinner party,” Hugh chuckles.

“You fucker,” Ryan laughs.

“We wanted to keep it a secret,” you say quietly, reaching out for Hugh’s hand. “But–”

“I like her a lot,” Hugh interrupts, lacing his hand with yours. “Didn’t want to hide this anymore.”

“We’re so happy for the both of you,” Blake smiles.

“Thanks, Blake.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, I owe my girl a dance,” Hugh winks. He leads you back inside of the party and wraps an arm around your waist, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

Blake and Ryan join the both of you and once on the dance floor, Hugh turns you around in his arms, hands moving to rest on your hips as your bodies begin to sway to the music. It’s dark and the music is blaring, but your sole focus is on Hugh who’s staring directly back at you.

He runs his hands along your sides and back down to your hips, bringing you flush against his front as you feel the length of manhood hardening beneath his pants. You bite your lower lip, arms coming up to snake around his shoulders and link at the base of his neck.

Hugh dips his head lower, capturing your lips in a slow kiss. He moves a hand to your lower back as the crowd of people surrounding the both of you fades into the background. He gently nips at your lower lip, hearing you quietly whimper. His lips move from your own to your jawline, coming up to gently nibble on your ear as he whispers huskily.

“I need you bad, baby.”

“But the party–”

“How about we leave early?” Hugh runs his hand up your back and down to rest above your backside.

“What about Blake and Ryan?”

Hugh looks over at the other couple who look to be in their own little world and he chuckles, turning his attention back to you. “I don’t think they’d mind one bit if we leave.”

You bite your lower lip and then nod, leaning up to peck his lips. “Take me home then, Hugh.”

“Yes,” he groans lowly. “I’ve been wanting to take you home the moment I saw you tonight. Let’s go.”

—

You don’t make it far once you and Hugh enter his place. He’s on you like a starved animal, hands running along your frame, lips lightly attacking your neck and shoulder. You can feel his length pressing into you from behind as he shrugs off his blazer.

“You make me crazy, baby,” Hugh growls, gently grazing the skin at your neck with his teeth. “Like a fucking teenager all over again.”

“Hugh, baby,” you whimper. “Wait, we should go upstairs and–”

“No,” he groans against you. “Right here.” Hugh bends you over the back of his large couch, immediately lifting the ends of your dress to your hips, giving him a clear view of your backside and your glistening slit. “You weren’t lying… no panties.”

“Have I ever lied to you?” You ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

Hugh glances up at you briefly before he drops to his knees in front of you. His large hands come up to spread your cheeks apart as he licks a strip along your sex, groaning against you.

“Hugh!” You exclaim, hand reaching back to curl into his hair.

“Mmm,” Hugh pulls back and looks at your sex, gaze darkening at the sight of you glistening for him. “Gonna have my taste now, baby.”

Before you could even answer, Hugh leans in and buries his face between your legs. He doesn’t bother to slow down, groaning against your sex as you feel his tongue in your most sensitive areas. You’re close, knowing that you aren’t going to last that long with the way Hugh’s going.

He pulls back momentarily, chin glistening with your arousal as he immediately slides two fingers into your tight heat. Hugh then leans back in and sucks your clit in time with pumping his fingers in and out of you and you’re so wet that the sounds mix in with your loud moans. It’s so lewd and obscene and it only spurs him on even further.

Your grip in his hair tightens as you feel your walls begin to tremble. When you feel a tightness begin to build in the pit of your stomach, you grip his hair even tighter, holding him firmly against you. Your eyes clamp shut as Hugh continues his assault on you, urging you through your orgasm.

Hugh then pulls back and stands up between your legs, his hands coming to undo his belt and zipper of his pants. His fingers are wet with your slick and he lifts to his mouth and sucks on it as his eyes stare directly at your throbbing heat.

Once he pulls his manhood out, he gives it a few strokes before notching his tip at your entrance. He feels you flinch at the sudden touch, smirking to himself.

“Hugh, wait. I need a minute.” You tell him, trying to turn around but Hugh keeps you firmly bent over the couch.

“Ah baby, you can handle it.” He grins, running his tip along the length of your sex, catching your hole repeatedly.

“Hugh,” you plead, reaching back for him but he just grabs your wrists and places them firmly against your lower back. With his free hand, he slowly slides into your tight heat, the slickness of your arousal immediately coating his length with each thrust forward.

He releases his hold on manhood and instead moves to place it on the couch, gripping it tightly. Hugh fills you to the brim, groaning to himself at the feeling of your walls wrapped tightly around him.

“See, told you,” he grins, pulling his hips back. Hugh pulls out to his tip, glancing down to see his length slick with your wetness. Then, he slowly slides back in and grips the couch even tighter, not wanting to leave any bruises on your wrists that remain firm in his grasp.

“Fuck!” You moan aloud. Your walls are already so sensitive and you know that you won’t last long with the way Hugh’s picking up his pace.

“God, you look good like this,” Hugh groans, thrusts moving faster as he repeatedly slams into you. You feel every inch, every throbbing vein and when he firmly slams into you, you move your ass back against him and feel the hair at his base provide the perfect friction against your clit.

He pulls back only enough to see you slide back into him, watching your ass shake and jiggle as you use him to reach yet another orgasm. Hugh knows that he’s getting closer, knows that he’s about to come but he tries to hold off because the sight of you using him like this for your own pleasure just turns him on even more.

“Baby,” Hugh groans. “I’m gonna come and I–”

“Inside,” you whimper.

Hugh feels a sudden rush overcome him at your confirmation and he releases his hold on your wrists to place both hands on your hips. He groans and begins to thrust back into you, his skin slapping loudly against yours as he chases his own release.

“Hugh, baby,” you moan, moving your own hands to rest over his as pleasure washes over you. Your body feels limp, feels like you can just fall asleep bent over this couch, but Hugh’s sharp thrusts work you through your own orgasm.

After a couple of thrusts, Hugh’s hips begin to stutter and you feel his warmth begin to fill you up. His grip on your hips tighten almost painfully as he empties himself into you, every last fucking drop.

When he pulls out, Hugh can’t help the sight of his release slowly begin to trickle out of you and down the inside of your leg. He smiles to himself, gently loosening his hold on you as he turns you around to face him.

“I don’t think I can walk upstairs,” you tease.

Hugh smirks proudly. “Good, because I don’t think I’m done with you yet, baby.”

—-

forever taglist: @haytchee @wolverigrl

[tarotbyjam24]

Collective messages from Lakshmi maa :

Celebrations\ good news\ positivity\blessings are coming on your way , it could be celebration about new house , marriage, or new family member coming to the family either by adoption or birth or you could also get new pets to your house .some people are coming back to their home land connecting with their ancestors , reunions\gatherings are also coming, you're advised to to your fav hobbies or just sing \dance your heart out ! Communicate with your family , friends 🎋

Some of you could also going through heartbreaks or you're not paying attention to you're health,you're not listening to your body's need . Please listen to your body's need Keep your heart protected treat yourself with a good hearty meal !

Some of you're super content in life feeling grateful for what you've in life and that the way how you live life ! Pure joy 🩷

Some of you are planning to go on trips near nature . This is your sign to go and heal ! I feel this trip will bring you creativity and happiness too

If some of you feeling like things aren't going your way they will soon start going your way you'll rise again ,old things will end and new beginnings will come , you might have feeling delusional but I see you're gaining clarity on things and not just following blind paths ,you're getting good at making decisions,some of you might have missed opportunities but you know that everything happens for good ✨

Don't feel bad about yourself don't feel guilty,sad release these emotions find some good ways to release them I reccomend meditation,dancing ,yoga, stretching or any physical activity that you love to do . There's light at the end of tunnel

Some of you need to move on it could be anything relationship,work etc any toxic situation you're not leaving it . Don't wait for right time , welcome the transition, take help from your surroundings if needed don't feel stuck.

Some of you aren't giving \pouring when you need to ? It's wrong guys please do your best everywhere, play your roles happily don't do it half a** . Be there for the people when they need you . Give your 100% . You're also lacking self care too . Please treat yourself as the king\queen like you're and treat others that way too because people project what they're shown \given

Some are overspending their money, focusing on showing off instead of stability,being selfish,not keeping their promises,taking advantage of their powers , lacking gratitude

Some of you are stuck in situations because you're choosing to be there , viewing situations from different pov , delaying things,having resistance . Please let it go .let it be . Care for yourself and for others too . Leave your ego

Some random advice 🌷: buy flowers, redecorate your place, go to catch sunrise , watch river\stream flow, work on your heart chakra, share your success with your loved ones , celebrate your Successes, don't be materialistic, do some self care ,fix your daily schedule, do some charity if you can , don't be too lazy guys new year's in 2 months get your life together 🩷 LASTLY BELEIVE IN YOURSELF! 🫶🏻

Note: this is collective reading,things may or may not resonate,take it all lightly nothing's set in stone until you believe so also please provide feedback if it resonated or not . This is my 1st time connecting with gods, goddesses and doing collective reading too 😊 so I'm grateful if you read it and resonate with it

bless you all have a great week ahead 🍁🎃 .oh yeah HAPPY DIWALI GUYS 🪔

[astrow1zar6]

Astro Observations- 38

Aries suns with Scorpio moons can be big adrenaline junkies. They need to do something dangerous that makes them feel alive. They can be extreme sometimes such as fast driving, mixing substances ect. They don’t feel like they’re living if they aren’t experiencing enough intensity. They should learn to focus this energy in healthier ways such as maybe exercising and sports.

Pisces Mercury’s often did art to express their emotions when younger. I’ve seen Pisces Mercurys who struggled to logically explain how they feel so they would draw or make crafts to show what they were feeling. Their emotions a lot of the times are too complex and intense to explain with only words. They work better with visuals. They could’ve also been better visual learners compared to people giving straightforward instructions when in a classroom setting (they are usually very imaginative).

Mars in Scorpios can have a hard time keeping friends and partners because of how intense they can be. When hurt they can say some really scary fucked up things that can make people want to distance themselves away. ESPECIALLY when they get jealous. They can be super cut throat with their words.

Taurus Venus’s usually came from households where they were exposed to really good food. Either they had enough money in their childhoods to afford high quality ingredients or they came from a family who cooked a lot. This can cause them to be natural cooks themselves. Usually indulged a lot as a child.

Aquarius suns either give IT girl/boy too cool for you vibes or they’re complete weirdos with a school shooter vibe no in between.

I believe Taurus suns are way more jealous than Scorpio suns

Leo moons tend to be the most awkward Leo placement. They have this dorkiness about them which most people don’t expect but I’ve seen it a lot. They can also be very childishly dramatic about very minor problems. Any little inconvenience is seen as a tragedy. However they usually are extremely talented in one area (usually art related) I’ve seen a lot of musicians and drama kids have this placement.

I’d love to have a Sagittarius moon yall seem like you generally don’t give a f*ck what people think and I’m here for it. Such a happy moon sign. However your good vibes 24/7 attitude can make others believe you’re insensitive or shallow.

I notice a lack of fire in the chart can cause a person to go into depression easier. It’s harder to be optimistic.

Venus in 2nd house isn’t just about being rich it also has to do with self esteem as well! When these people are really on the right path they can live such a favorable life! These are the girls you see on YouTube who’s morning routine is waking up at 6, eating a balanced breakfast, moisturize and exfoliate and exercise all before 8 lmao. Usually they don’t start making good money until they fix their self worth but once they do it’s like they flow with the universe without much obstacles. But when struggling with your self esteem you can become bad with your money and be very greedy and jealous of others success so be careful!

Venus in 7th house people are so lucky with relationships. It’s like they just slide into romantic relationships so easily & naturally. So many people want to cuff them up it’s insane. They tend to get along with a lot of different personalities. Very diverse people which attracts people to them like magnets. However, they can be very codependent and do poorly when alone.

Pisces suns are either extremely wise or super foolish and immature. They also always look like they don’t know what’s going on whether they actually do or really don’t😭 even if they are listening to everything your saying it looks like they have nothing going on in their minds like they got a lobotomy lmao (sometimes tho they really don’t know what’s going on, especially Pisces mercs)

Mercury in Capricorns are normally super smart. Street wise and book wise. They can come off as intimidating tho sometimes because of how intelligent they come off. They also have a vibe that can lowkey make people feel unwelcome like you’re too dumb to talk to them💀 (similar to cap risings). They tend to surround themselves with people older/more mature than them they can really get put off but younger acting energies.

Sag risings can be SOOO loud. Especially when they get excited or drunk.

Having a Sun in Aries and a Cancer moon seems like the most difficult sun/moon placements to have together. You have this tough exterior and such a vulnerable interior that no one knows about so people usually treat you harshly not knowing it’s really hard for you to take that☹️ also struggles a lot with being vulnerable to anyone.

Every Pisces Mars woman I’ve ever met was so dazzling to look at. They have such an ultra feminine nature that’s almost ethereal.

[shhrrroooommmmmyyyyyy]

HB Generational Trauma: Paimon → Stolas

→ Octavia

*Before I get attacked, nothing I say is to defend the actions described. I am simply trying to explain and make sense of it.*

Many fans approach the topic of Stolas being a good or bad father with either black and white-good or bad or completely gray answers. The black and white are pretty straightforward, usually going something like "he says this but does this anyway" or "he's neglectful", which are all valid opinions here. As well as the gray opinions, usually saying "he really tries, he just doesn't get it right".

Honesty, I can't say I disagree with any of these opinions honestly. I don't have evidence to back this up, but I have a feeling I know where the writers are going with this. I think they will, maybe sometime soon after hearing via's line in the trailer, have Stolas sort of "wake up" in a sense and realize what exactly he does. Get hit by the good ol' self awareness train, if you will. It's called character development.

I've seen many people call this bad writing but I disagree. I think that's the direction they're going for Stolas's character development. I think with the episodes so spread out, people forget we're only three episodes away from only being halfway through the series as a whole. There's still plenty of room for development.

Anyways, back on topic. Let's look at Paimon and Stolas from the Circus episode. I love the Loo Loo Land parallel with it.

Paimon enjoying himself from home while Stolas is miserable and clearly doesn't want to be there. The only thing that gets him through it without crashing out is Blitzø. Paimon seems to not notice he's even there at all until he starts enjoying himself watching Blitzø. And when he figures out what's making him so happy, he literally buys Blitzø later to keep himself from having to deal with him all day. Of course Stolas is too oblivious and distracted by Blitzø to realize, but that makes complete sense seeing how oblivious he is as an adult.

So now let's look at Stolas and Octavia in the Loo Loo Land episode.

Stolas is enjoying himself, but actually present. Him actually being there is an improvement; however, Octavia's not enjoying herself. She already didn't want to go because she was too old to enjoy it. And on top of that, Stolas flirting with Blitzø the whole time made her uncomfortable (which he was also too oblivious to realize).

I think the parallels here are interesting. Overall I think the writers ave done an excellent job of writing generational trauma, hence the title of this post. Now let's look at Stolas' line from Western Energy:

This line made a slight change in their dynamic from my perspective. It's clear he loves her and would do anything to protect her. Much different from Paimon. I think he tries so hard to be better than Paimon that he subconsciously ends up doing what Paimon does. This is called the ironic process theory or ironic rebound (psychology nerd here, as you can tell). However, the difference between him and Paimon is that he apologizes and recognizes that he made a mistake. He's trying. And even so, what examples of a good dad would he have had growing up that would've guided him in the right direction?

Although he keeps making mistakes, he is still trying. He's not prefect. I think Via knows this; nevertheless, it's hard for her not to get frustrated at him for making them sometimes. Especially when he promised he would do something with her and didn't in Seeing Stars.

No matter the extremity of the efforts made toward doing so, generational trauma will never be completely healed in one generation (look at me using smart words). While Stolas has made a pretty big dent in the healing process, it takes more than one person to erase the trauma. Although Via is as far as the line will go with her being confirmed asexual, I think Stolas has done a lot more for Via than people realize.

I have a few notes about Blitz and Loona on this topic as well. I might wait till after Ghostfuckers in case it gives more info to put in that post

[curtain-caller]

So I'm looking forward to seeing all the interpretations and headcanons people make for The Lucky Contestant (who I will also join in calling them "Lucky"), but I'm curious... Okay, raise of hands, who else here also pictures Lucky as a crafty, greedy, overconfident, sassy, morally bankrupt little shit (affectionate)? Or is that just me? Idk I just get those vibes from their choices in the game (elaboration below)

Like... the implications that they were combing through hundreds of boxes to get a tape to join the show??? That they were counting the boxes and keeping track??? The fact that the only way to escape at the start is to run PAST the giant fucking beast mauling another contestant instead of running AWAY from it??? Not to mention them leaving the other remaining contestants behind in doing so.

The fact they didn't hesitate when Deputy Duck pecked at them, fucking grabbing him by the neck and throwing him against the wall??? That screamed "I'm not fucking around, are you going to cooperate or not?" kind of energy. The way they barely move when they come across the Real Frankie in front of the monitors??? Like, I know you can't move during that segment probably so you don't just miss the cutscene, but in-universe, Lucky has ample opportunity to turn and fucking run, and we know damn well their fear response isn't freeze, it's flight.

Just. The entire noob noob section. I feel like they flinched one time during that and that was when they caught the first one, but only because the explosion caught them off guard. That slowed them down for 1 second, maximum. Hell, I've seen a few players laugh at that part, I feel like Lucky would too. The fact that there's no objectives to even try to escape Frankie's great value Parkour Civilization??? Like, in a game like this, I'd expect at one point for there to be an attempt to just escape the game entirely once shit hit the fan, only for the protagonist to realize the only way out is to begrudgingly play along and win. But nope. Lucky came here for the money, and they're getting that money. AND THE FACT THEY DO??? AND THEY'RE THE FIRST EVER ONE TO DO SO??? The way they just strut back into Frankie's office after their 57th near-death experience and look him right in the eye??? The whole ending segment where they go for another season??? It's not framed at all like they were forced to go again, because the Real Frankie just offered his hand out, and when we cut back, Lucky is casually looking at the ratings screen while standing on top of a pile of corpses. There are open gaps on the floor they can be standing on instead! But nope, just chilling on top of some dead bodies. Obviously we can't tell what their facial expressions are with the mask on, but they don't seem afraid or even all that tense about their situation either. To me, Lucky is the type of guy to go "I'm not gay, but 20 bucks is 20 bucks". Lucky is the type of guy to go "No, I'm taking the 5 million" only to sprint through that fucking door when Frankie whispers "Double or nothing". Lucky is the type of guy to walk past an old dead competitor and mutter "skill issue" under their breath. Lucky is the kind of guy to roll around in the glass money ball for enrichment like a hamster in a hamster ball. Lucky's the type of guy to keep going for season after season, for more and more money, until eventually they're not even doing it for the money anymore, relishing in the adrenaline rush and the glory instead. I just really love the idea that the reason why Lucky made it to the end so successfully was not only because of their skills and quick thinking, but because they also match Frankie's freak. Frankie was right: They need each other. They compliment each other. They enable each other in the worst ways possible. One wants to put the other through gradually more elaborate and deadly situations to increase ratings, and the other runs headfirst into those situations with the same energy as someone going cliff diving. It's like enrichment for them.

[rockwgooglyeyes]

A beloved mutual said something that very much tickled my noodle, making me think on it.

This was on the heels of a thing about ivantill not being romantically requited in canon (which I agree with) but the original post was mostly focused on the fact that, at least I believe, Till didn't reciprocate Ivan's feelings. Which, I mean, they loved each other, but not necessarily in the same way. Now, a friend and mutual of mine (@alien-til-i-stage) actually makes the argument that it doesn't *matter* whether or not either of their feelings were romantic or platonic or whatever, because they loved each other and they had a monumental connection and that's what matters. Now, I love that to bits, that's so incredibly real, but at the same time I am nothing if not a dog with a bone so I actually want to talk about my thoughts on this.

Now, I don't think it's at all bad or wrong or even controversial to say that Ivan might not have had romantic feelings for Till. I think it's really fair to question whether or not Ivan really loved Till romantically, especially given that they were never taught about relationships and undoubtedly, their only real example for "romance" was Mizi and Sua. I would argue that Ivan actually does have a little bit more probability to know about romance due to his background (growing up on the streets) as well as his knowledge background (enjoying literature. While literature doesn't necessarily have romance in it, a lot of dramas do depict some kind of romantic relationship) but that's really neither here nor there.

I'll get down to the real point of this post, which is my thoughts on whether or not Ivan actually had romantic feelings for Till in the main, canon universe/timeline of ALNST, and I would say yes. I admittedly haven't really questioned whether or not Ivan's feelings were romantic or something else but when I do think about it, I would say that my answer is "I believe Ivan." I believe it's romantic because that's what he says it is.

As much shit as I give him for being an unreliable narrator, one of the few things that we can trust Ivan's thoughts on? Himself. Obviously disregarding the way that he thinks of himself as someone horrible and shallow and monstrous but like, he's self aware. He's introspective. While he never explicitly says that his feelings for Till are romantic, it's heavily implied with both his behavior (sweats in looking at the birthday kiss comic and the fact that apparently his excuse for asking about that was "kissing is popular in the garden rn" which is pretty flagrant in it being about mizisua) as well as the symbolism/allusions around him, the fact that he directly compares himself and Till to Mizisua, it's heavily heavily implied that he believes his love towards Till to be romantic, at least, in part.

(two images with extremely different vibes but basically, example of the symbolism/comparison and example of the behavior) (also "thank you for being the victim of my shallow emotions" anybody??)

To give a little context, I am autistic and I'm on the aroace spectrum, two things I also headcanon Ivan to be, and so the fact that he believes his feelings to be romantic, if he thinks he knows what he's feeling, I am inclined very heavily to believe him. I find cataloguing and defining my feelings very difficult, especially in a way that allistic people understand, so I often end up using metaphors to communicate them because I am very rarely able to pinpoint my feelings and be like "oh yeah I am happy right now." This is especially true when it comes to my feelings about other people, because of how much I know about biases, perspective, first encounters, etc, I tend to get really, really in my head about stuff.

So basically, tl;dr, the reason I believe Ivan about his feelings for Till being romantic is that very rarely do I ever say "I have feelings for this person" without doubting myself and double checking and running it over in my mind for hours upon hours because I am neurotic as hell and I kind of feel like Ivan wouldn't be so certain on the Till thing if he hadn't thought about it a lot.

tagging @bluemoonscape per his request <3 love you pookie

[alieinthemorning]

No Tears for Traitors [Rafayel]

Content: Character Death, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

Born in the sea, return to the sea. Rafayel had learned this well after feeling Lumurian after Lumurian return to his sea. 

And now it was finally his turn. 

There was nothing left for him on land. 

Nothing but love, hurt

And betrayal.

“Rafayel, when are you going to clean this place?” You asked him with a frown, a clear sign of your displeasure.

“Haven’t you heard the saying: ‘Beauty in chaos.’”

You nodded, but there was still that pesky frown on your face. “Yes, but—”

“No buts! This is how it’s supposed to be.” He grabbed your hand, pulling you further into his chaos for the second time in your lifetimes.

“You can’t keep checking yourself into the hospital just because you want to see me, Rafayel.”

He looked away from your sharp gaze. “It works, doesn’t it?”

“At the cost of the nurses’ precious time.”

“Then what should I do?”

You smiled at him warmly. “Just be honest. Say that you just want to see me, and I'll come.”

He stopped abruptly, grimacing at the sudden intrusion that was you. Why were you plaguing him—after all these years… 

“I wasn’t expecting you to come and find me, Rafayel…” You didn’t look at him, your eyes were glued to the floor. Hell, you didn’t even open the door all the way, just enough that you could address him.

But that didn’t matter, because he had seen enough. “You’re hurt.” Your arms were wrapped in bandages, and with how bad the news said the battle was, he was sure other parts of you were covered in gauze.

“It’s not too bad, not the worse I’ve had.”

“You’ve had worse?!”

You shrugged, gaze finally reaching his.“…Well, of course, I’m a Hunter, after all.”

“I’m not gonna lie to you, Rafayel.” You paused, trying your damnedest not to cry. “I’m not going to make it.”

He didn’t say anything, however, the hand holding yours gripped it a little tighter.

“So, you’re going to have to take care of yourself from now on, okay? No more all-nighters, and make sure to eat something—”

“You’re dying, and all you can do is nag me. That’s so like you.”

It was quiet for a moment after that, then you placed your other hand on top of his, signaling him to look up at you. Once you had his attention, you spoke softly.

“I love you, Rafayel. So, even after I’m gone, please keep my love for you safe, okay?”

“…I will keep your love for me safe”

He didn’t need to look down to know that the vow had been blessed, and he’s glad he didn’t because he would have missed the warmest, brightest smile you had ever given him.

“thank you, my love…

…i’ll be going first.”

He angrily scrubbed his hands over his face, then let them rest on his chest.

He would not cry. In no way would he shed any more tears for traitors. 

Not for you, 

nor himself. 

Despite all that you did to you and his people, he still loved you.

And he hated that.

Hated that he loved you so much that he would still cup his hand over his mouth and—

“I love you, too, you know. And I swear…that I won’t let anything tarnish our love.” 

His love for you was true, but tarnished that of his people who had fallen that day.

Your love for him was true, but the actions of the past could never be rewritten.

No matter how hard either of you tried to look away, it was still there.

So, as selfish as he’d always been, he swallowed the vow.

A bright blue vow of love and betrayal.

I'm going to hurt you all so much worse once his story branch comes out.

Please be excited :)

Ko-Fi | Masterlist

[radical-boy-kisser]

TW: Endos, vent, syscourse

This is not an invitation to start syscourse.

Do not start syscourse over this. Anybody who does so will be blocked immediately. I do not care who you are, DNI. If you still do, you're only proving my point more.

This is also not a syscourse blog. This is just a vent, posts will continue like normal after this.

Endogenic systems are disgusting. They are nothing more than attention-seeking weirdos who mock trauma survivors. They can never respect boundaries and DNI either. God forbid someone doesn't like those who actively harm them and people like them, and they get harassed by endos for being a normal person.

You cannot be an endo without hating real trauma survivors.

There has never been, is not, will never be another form of system that doesn't come from DID. "Tulpas" are not systems nor do they claim to be. Any system who claims to be a "tulpa" is racist, full stop.

Trauma-endo is not real. You are either not a system, or your plurality was caused by trauma. Nothing else.

Willogenic is not real. You cannot just "make a system." You are disgusting if you think that's possible. Systems can only ever form out of repeated childhood trauma, which causes the brain to never form a full identity/"self."

You cannot have roles if you are endogenic.

Protectors? What is there to protect you from? You don't have trauma. Memory holders? What memories are there to withhold? You don't have trauma. Caretakers? What is there to take care of? You don't have trauma. Alters at all? Who has the brain created to protect itself/cope from traumatic memories? You don't have trauma.

Endos mock real trauma survivors who have to deal with this disabling disorder while they can turn it on and off as they please.

Traumagenic endo supporters are no better. You mock those in your own community and make fools out of them. You cannot love the system community if you support endos. You cannot love any system if you support endos.

I say systems here, and not traumagenic. Endos will never be real systems.

Being a system and supporting endos is incredibly ironic.

Gays for Trump!

Cows for slaughterhouse!

Misogynists for Kamala!

Rats for lab testing!

Bears for bear traps!

Billionaires for taxation!

It's stupid and nothing more.

I am so, so tired of syscord. I have never seen a server more full of pro-endo systems and endos than I have the Tupperbox Support server. It's so exhausting.

If I could magically become host, I would in a heartbeat so I could get everyone away from these idiots. Alas, he clings onto that tiny server full of pro-endos and a slightly lqbtqphobic guy.

Brb, gonna pull a neo/xeno prns-only user to front and see how he reacts.

[yannaryartside]

The importance of SydLuca for Sydcarmy

"This is what you wanted"

This may be a controversial one, I originally shipped MarcusxLuca more, but that may still be my OTP alongside Sydcarmy (both ships will happen at the show's end). This may be shipper delusions, but I have a narrative-based argument.

Let me explain why I think Luca and Sydney's dating, cooking, and working together, as well as their falling in love, are essential to the show's themes.

Character development for Carmy

Guys, the reason it would be so significant for Carmy’s character development (reality check) that Sydney develops feelings for Luca is because Luca has admitted Carmy is better than him in the kitchen.

Carmy made the menu, the restaurant, all about himself. He wants to be the hero to compensate his emotional absence and issues. It gives him validation, the toxic narrative that all abuse is worth if you become the best.

The meaning of “this is what you wanted”

He kept telling Syd: “this is what you wanted,” because that’s what he learned from his toxic chef. He may not be intentionally abusing Sydney as his boss abused him, but he is still prolonging the toxic dynamics he learned to survive in the Empire, thinking that if he can get a star, it will all be worth it in the end. The pain, the guilt, feeling lost. It would prove there is nothing wrong with him.

But it would also let him keep Sydney’s admiration (and her affection) he does what to be the best also because she came to his life saying “you are the best cdc in the best restaurant in the world” he thinks he needs to be the best in order for Sydney to ever want him in any way (friend/partner/romantic interest)

Which is obviously not true because Syd has stayed with Carmy while he has been anything but emotionally absent, a bad friend and ultimately a bad boss and even a bad chef, if we believe that last review calling him “uninspiring and chaotic”

Enters Luca

But then Luca will come in and steal his girl. A man with less awards, less known. Inferior in the culinary world. But Luca is (as far as we can see, specially in Forever) emotionally intelligent, present and kind. All the things Carmy could be if he deployed himself from his toxic narratives.

To be honest, the fact that Luca is physically everything that Carmy is insecure about himself (his height, face, being funny and intelligent) is kind of the cherry on top.

You can almost see his Pikachu face. "So you are telling me that I could have Syd if I was willing to be emotionally vulnerable and do the work?" (Carmy represents the whole male species right there.)

SYDNEY SIDE OF THE STREET.

The line "is scary to rely on someone" she told Marcus could be telling us two things:

1.Syd doesn't know how to be truly emotionally vulnerable, maybe because of previous (recent) heartbreak (the 3 swords tattoo).

2. Syd is scared to rely on Carmy

And next season, this man will probably be even less reliable; he spent this whole season fantasizing and thinking Claire was the solution to all his problems. And I don't have any reason to believe that pursuing her will not be his goal next season, either. Some people even speculate that the next season will end in a fake ending, with Claire and Carmy leaving for Copenhagen and all that. Then we could have a surprise 5th season to entail all the lies. (this show has bo be put on trial)

So, if Sydney is scared of being emotionally vulnerable, sadly, she cannot learn that with Carmy. Not with the present one.

She should go on her own and stop relying emotionally and financially on Carmy for a while to get to know herself and what she wants, build a career that doesn't depend on him, trust in her own strength, grow and be confident, learn to love and be loved, and live a love that is not based 50% on struggle and 50% on hope.

So, when they decide to be together, both can start from a healthy place. The connection is there, and they still have a date with destiny.

[paperstorm]

Can I check I'm not totally out here with my take on the therapy scene? Imo, it was fair for Carlos to push back on TK saying he wasn't present all nights. And TK kind of dismissed the dinner as a one off, and he was probably right, but imo it was still a super sweet thing to do that must have taken Carlos a huge amount of effort and it deserved to be acknowledged, even if TK wasn't happy with how the night ended. I know he fell asleep after, but making a brisket is hard! 😂

It seems like TK is kind of seen as being in the right in the therapy scene and Carlos as being in the wrong, whereas idk to me it feels more equal? Like they both made valid points? And of course it could just be that I have a different take from everyone else and if that's the case I'm fine with that, I just want to make sure I'm not going crazy and missing something! 😅

No I agree! the thing is we really don't have the complete history or context right, I mean is TK exaggerating that Carlos is *never* present because he's hurt and that's not actually a fair assessment? Or has Carlos literally been at work until midnight every single night for the last 6 months and brisket night was literally the single instance where he wasn't, and TK's valid in being like no that was one single time, you can't get off on that technicality. We don't know the answer to that question, so it's hard for us as uninformed outsiders to really determine who's right and who's wrong.

But I think the larger point is that when two people are having an issue like this, it's about how they each feel. It's about their perception of the event, it's not about assigning a winner and a loser. Making a brisket is a lengthy process so it was an incredibly sweet and loving thing to do, and Carlos absolutely deserves credit for that and the fact that hours later he was tired and fell asleep before they could be intimate doesn't erase the nice thing he did. TK is hurting but it isn't really fair to act like Carlos falling asleep meant the dinner he worked hard on meant nothing. But, what Carlos isn't yet understanding (and does understand by the end of the episode!), is that TK wants him. He doesn't want big romantic gestures, he doesn't want flowers and presents and fancy dinners, he just wants his husband. So while Carlos putting all that effort into the dinner is of course a sweet and lovely thing to do, if doing it zaps all his limited remaining energy to the point that they don't get that closeness and intimacy later, TK doesn't want the fancy dinner. He wants quality time, and that's not something Carlos can replace with a present.

I like how the scene was written in a way where you can see it from both of their sides, I like that it doesn't villainize either of them but just shows they are going through a hard time and haven't found their footing yet.

[nthspecialll]

What do you think would happen if Sean and Kieran were alive in chapter 6? Would they be in guarma in chapter five? And what sides would they take in the end?

Kieran would not be in Guarma, in chapter four they are just starting to trust him, they would not bring him to the bank robbery, he would have to step up and help keep the others safe. I think that would be very interesting to see though, we hear that Charles and Sadie had to clear Lakay from thugs and Kieran would probably help there. We only really see him stand up as the criminal he is in six point cabin.

Kieran would also absolutely be on Arthur's side, he cares more for people than he does money and loyalty. He is quite a loose soul and wouldn't struggle with "betraying" Dutch, he probably wouldn't be there in the complete end, he would run with Mary-Beth or something similar, he is not staying til that gun fight.

As for Sean, he would be in Guarma. They need every gun they can get in the bank robbery and he wouldn't "sacrifice" himself like Charles did and thus stay in Saint Denis, so yes he goes to Guarma. As for what side he would be on, I actually don't know. While he is alive he is fiercely loyal, we see him half doubt once, however it is nothing special and when Arthur talks about Dutch to him he says people should get off Dutch's back.

The thing is, we don't know how he will react to everything that happens, we don't really see him react to any kind of betrayal because none happens while he is alive. I can argue for him taking both sides, but I am not certian in either.

He is a person who doesn't show that much care in killing, he happily kills rich people and anyone who works for them, he doesn't even seem to care about Heidi, the innocent girl Dutch practically executed. So doubt would not come from the amount of people they kill or their morale, where I however can see him get cautious with Dutch is when he gets wreckless with the lives of the gang. Sean loves the gang, they are his family. He doesn't seem to think too deeply about it with the deaths of Mac, Davey and Jenny, but maybe with Hosea, Lenny, Molly and the others he would take a second to think.

[katuschka]

Touch Starved Pups – Three

Jake Kiszka x f!Reader x Josh Kiszka October Special (But only because there's a Halloween party in this one. Otherwise, just a continuation of the story.) 5.954 words

Anyway, it you're new to this, welcome to Part Three of the story about what happens to two well-behaved, bored and horny romantics when a new feisty, worldly and hot social media manager enters the building...

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings (are spoilers): expressive language, promiscuous behaviour, petting and fingering (f!receiving), some heavy fluff, kissing, sex toys and teasing in public, costumes, alcohol consumption, a very brief mention of marihuana, allusions to continuous online bullying, being in denial of one's feelings

Also, if you like the story and want to get notifications for future updates, you can join the Taglist or see the Masterlist.

Whoa, you like to think that you're immune to the stuff, oh yeah

It's closer to the truth to say you can't get enough

You know you're gonna have to face it, you're addicted to love

There are so many pleasurable things you can do on a rainy October day, instead of being stuck in a conference room. Sleeping comes to mind immediately. Or sleeping with someone. Sleeping after having slept with someone is definitely the best option. Best-served with champagne and strawberries and a Taurus on each side. Nudge nudge, wink wink.

Naughty, naughty thoughts. I promised myself to abstain from that…at least for a while, because two horny Tauruses dogging me all the time were exactly the reason why this couldn’t be just a lazy Saturday afternoon. Oh dog, how I hate conference rooms. 

But who doesn’t, right? Well, apart from the people who have a stick up their asses. And by that I don’t mean any funny silicone shit. I have yet to meet a sane person who doesn’t look either annoyed or miserable while sitting around the long table in a usually cold room. Doesn’t matter if it’s due to the air temperature or the sterile interior design. All those meetings, briefings and brainstorming sessions have nothing to do with creativity and real work. The only ones who enjoy it are those who love to listen to themselves talking, which is usually the only skill they possess. Everyone else is just waiting for it to be over so that they can go back to doing something that is actually productive. 

Like…fucking, preferably. Oh no, not again. Be for real, bitch! F-O-C-U-S. 

At least this was the GVF headquarters and not some fancy-schmancy glass tomb that reeks of Ivy League jizz. That’s why I prefer working with artists. Corporate marketing is boring and often borderline unethical. Here,we had beer. Both Sam and Jake already downed two cans each, which made it pretty obvious that they were just as happy to be there as I was. I took just a few tentative sips myself, as I had to keep in mind what was at stake. 

My job. 

Of all the reasons for summoning an “emergency” meeting, this one’s the worst. 

I tried to ease my mind a bit on my way there by blasting Lucille Bogan in my car, but as soon as that bitch started singing about enjoying two dicks the side of a baseball bat, I almost screamed with exasperation. During the past month, I had tried to avoid exactly that. And for what? I was still pretty much fucked, and not the way I wanted. Damn, how I missed those dicks. But I’m a professional, and even though both of them kept begging instead of just enjoying their much deserved break and time spent at home, I was adamant. 

See, it’s part of my job to make sure there’s no significant online drama. And I obviously failed. You can’t really avoid it, it often spreads like a virus and there’s something new every day, but just like with any other illness, there’s prevention and treatment. Anytime something lasts more than two weeks, I’m bound to report it to the management. And that’s exactly why I’d rather jump in the snake pit today, as it was me who caused the most recent major fuckup. It’s been more than a month. 

So, I submitted all the evidence a week prior and expected to be roasted. I’m no pounce pony though, and I knew very well that apart from the most recent mishap, I had done a really good job in the last six months. High on caffeine and adrenaline, I sat up straight, ready to defend my job. 

“... so, as you can see, that one-time drop on Instagram and Tiktok is counterbalanced by a steady increase of all numbers – not just followers, but also various interactions – on all the platforms except the X, which is fairly specific and…” I expected Melissa from management a.k.a “That Bitch” to interrupt me eventually, and yet I cringed when I finally heard her annoying voice coming out of the large screen in front of us. It matched the face perfectly.

“Well, that’s actually the only reason why we’re even having this conversation. Stella, you must understand that this is a problem. While we don’t believe in strict policies when it comes to mixing your personal and professional life…and you’re all adults…” She both looked and sounded quite unconvinced by her own words. “... this has gone a bit too far. We cannot really tolerate any further damage to the reputation of the band. That’s unacceptable. Thankfully for you, you have significant support who put in a good word for you.”

If clearing one’s throat was an olympic discipline, a few people, both in the room with me and on the big screen, would qualify. That offended me a bit. I’m a tolerant person, but my sex life is not a gob of phlegm, thank you very much. Fuckers.

Anyway, back to business.

“Yes, I understand that, Melissa, and I’ve already made amends.” By making amends I meant that there was currently no mixing going on and I was going to keep it that way in near future. And while I at least pretended to understand why it was “unacceptable”, I wasn’t sure about the other two whom it also concerned and who were sitting opposite to me. To be honest, I had absolutely no idea what was really going on behind Jake’s poker face and sunglasses combined. Josh, on the other hand, kept watching me sideways through his ridiculously long eyelashes while his tongue kept polishing his front teeth, which made him look like he was constantly pouting. I tried to ignore it. “The new strategic plan for the next few months before the scheduled releases is also ready. So, whenever the guys are too, we can start working on it. The three most successful recent posts both on Instagram and Tiktok proved that candid content really is...” Aaaand she interrupted me again.

“This is all very nice Stella, but I want to hear how you’re going to deal with the current issue first.”

I could feel my blood start to boil. I did all I could, even though I didn’t want to, but I just couldn’t fight the nightmare! The best thing to do now was to direct everyone’s attention somewhere else. “Unfortunately, certain things are beyond my control, and…” 

“I don’t think your reputation and your problematic past is entirely beyond your control, Stella.”

My past? MY problematic past? There it was again. It was just a pinkie at first, but I had to grab my right hand with the left one to stop it from shaking. 

“I think that’s enough, Melissa.” It was Jake. No longer leaning back against his chair and acting as if he was in the room entirely by mistake, he was now looking directly at the screen with his left hand placed menacingly on the table. I loved when he was glowering like that. Especially when… focus, you idiot! Meanwhile, he continued, only to be interrupted by Josh, as always. “We all know – including you, I hope – that you can’t really choose your parents. I mean…”

“Yeah, uh, and speaking about parents, I think that if my mother doesn’t see Stella as problematic, then you shouldn’t either.” 

Oh Joshy, baby, that isn’t really helping, and… your mother?! Well, that was a bit embarrassing, given the…well, all of it actually. I had met their mom twice, so I knew she was no prude, but still. Yikes! “Your mom knows about this?” I mewed. I certainly didn’t want to emit such a high-pitched, screechy sound, but as I said, certain things were beyond my control. 

“Well, of course, darling, she doesn’t live in a cave” he replied nonchalantly, before he turned back to Melissa. “But also because she was notified about it, no doubt by the same people who keep sending Stella hateful messages. THAT is unacceptable and problematic. And I think that, um, given wha…uh…given the band’s message and all, we shouldn’t really tolerate when our employees are being bullied, let alone participate in it.” 

The room fell quiet. Both rooms, to be more specific. I didn’t even realize I was gaping at Josh until Danny’s finger gently pushed my chip back up. I turned to my right to look at him and he smiled at me encouragingly. They were all unbelievable. Sometimes I felt like Alice in fucking wackoland. I didn’t even know why I kept denying to admit that they were actually pretty sweet. ‘People are cunts’, that was my favorite mantra and the armor I put on every morning. 

“Very well!” Melissa broke the silence at last. “But I hope we all agree that this must be sorted out. And all I want is Stella to…”

“Ok, let’s not delve into this any further, because it’s both inappropriate and irrelevant.” It was Jake again. While mixing business with bodily fluids wasn’t “exactly discouraged”, keeping anyone from finishing a sentence seemed like a cardinal rule here. Why didn’t anyone tell me before? I’m quite good at it too when needed.

Jake was still talking to Melissa when he turned to me. “... the main issue is with me and Josh having a row or something, that’s how it all started, correct?”

“Correct…,” both me and the Bitch answered in unison, albeit with uncertainty. 

“Cool, so let’s work on that.” And with that, he leaned back again, resuming his previous ‘fuck-this-shit’ posture. 

“Ok…please, do!” Melissa breathed out, pinching her brow.

“I got some ideas…” I added hopefully to break the tension, even though I had N-O-N-E at the moment, because I was very well aware that even if we posted a series of sickeningly sweet shutterstock-ish pictures of the two of them going fishing together, it wouldn’t change a thing. I was still THE problem. 

“Fine, you better make them work. I don’t care how, just fix it. You have one week to come up with a plan, because we need to start working on the RAH teasers well before Thanksgiving, and it would be fine if you managed to boost the numbers even more before that.” 

“Aaaactually, we already have a plan.” It was Sam this time. 

“We do?” I thought I only thought of the question, but apparently, I said it out loud, because Daniel gently stomped on my foot under the table in an obvious attempt to stop me from saying any more. “Yeah, Stella. That costume thing you told us right before the meeting. We actually quite like it. And pardon my amateur opinion, but I think it might work.”

“Oh yeah,” I chimed feebly. I honestly had no idea what was going on and I didn’t like it one bit, but I also wanted it to be over already and any straw I could catch was more than welcome. “Yeah, the costume thing… Ok, let’s try it.” 

 “So…can someone please explain to me what you meant by having a plan?”

We were no longer in that stifling room. Instead, Sam was playing some tune on the piano in the main room while the twins sat sprawled on the couch nearby and Daniel was helping himself to another beer. 

While still playing, Sam turned his head slightly towards me. “It’s top secret. I’ll just have to come to our Halloween party and see for yourself. Believe me, you’ll like it.”

“I really doubt it. I hate Halloween parties.” 

In fact, I hate Halloween parties, New Year’s Eve parties, birthday parties and all that shit. Parties with a small p are just fine, but these organized annual celebrations of infantility often turn to a shitshow, especially when family members are involved. I couldn’t see how replacing sleazy uncles with your actual bosses could be any different. And what was the plan, anyway?

“Told you…” Daniel called while still rummaging in the fridge. Meanwhile, Josh stood up and was now trying to dance with me to the music. Trying is really a very fitting word in his case, because it was like being thrown around the room by a drunk chimpanzee. 

„Dear sparrow, it won’t be just an ordinary Halloween party. I hereby invite you to our night of debauchery and incessant frolicking. Yeah, and the play, well…as Sam said, top secret.“ Josh chimed.

„Don’t you have your own acquaintances to keep you company now we’re back from tour?“ They kept informal, friendly relationships with most of the crew, and I was sure some other people from our team might be there as well, but I didn’t lie when I told That Bitch that I was trying to make amends. 

Josh finally let go of me and collapsed back on the couch. „Ah, no… sadly, there seems to be a dreadful shortage of pretty dicks that would be able to satisfy my refined taste and wild, wicked nature.“

Jake looked as if he would throw up soon. „Don’t listen to him, he’s just bluffing. He’s like a meek lamb when in a relationship.“

Yeah, Jakey, I know, but it’s cute how you both always try to convince me otherwise. 

The remark, however, didn’t throw Josh off the hinges AT ALL. hE kept the facade without even blinking. „…and while I’m still on the lookout for a daddy that would tame me, let’s have some fun in the meantime.“

„There’s no shortage of cunts, though,” I chimed in, trying not to look overly amused by his antiques. 

„Yeah, well, too bad. I’m quite picky,“ he winked at me. 

There was no point in trying to argue with him. “Ok, I’ll think about it.” I wasn’t going to. 

Until…

„You really should come.“

I thought I was the last person in the building, with all of them already gone. I was just collecting my stuff, ready to go home too, when Jake’s voice right behind my back made me jump.

„Jesus fuck! Alright. Convince me.“ I didn’t want him to.

But he did. „Ok, c’mon.“ He grabbed my hand and dragged me back to the now empty conference room, because as it turned out, we weren’t completely alone. One of the assistants just arrived to replenish the fridge. Once inside, he pinned me against the wall, grabbed my chin and skillfully proceeded to convince me with his tongue inside my mouth. And so we were mixing again! Oh well. 

„Ok, ok, I shall come,“ I said, breathless, when he finally released me. As I said, he had been hiding behind his shades most of the afternoon, so looking right into his eyes now was akin to electric shocks. Sometimes I really hate them, you know. 

„Good.“ He closed the gap between us once again and brushed his lips against mine, but much more gently this time.

No! Not good! This was exactly why I did NOT want to go! Oh well…

My initial plan was to go dressed as Mata Hari, because sometimes I enjoy being overly melodramatic AND I prefer to slut with class. I was also quite certain Josh would approve of the abundance of sparkly trinkets while Jake might appreciate the fact that they wouldn’t really cover much. 

The fuckers had other plans. Not only did Josh send a car for me, obviously to prevent me from leaving early as I had threatened to do, but the driver also handed me a box with another costume. Inside it was a rather hideous violet coverall, not much different from those Josh himself was sometimes wearing, and a pair of steampunk welding goggles. The fuck… I snatched my phone and quickly typed a message. 

S.: NO WAY!

Baggins: on comeon, its gonna be fun. and gregory is instructed to keep waiting until you get dressed. 

S: Well, in that case he’s gonna spend the night, because I’m not going anywhere wearing that.

Baggins: yes, you are. or else…

It was followed by a picture of him holding a huge hammer and standing menacingly next to a chair, to which he tied Jake’s Beloved. 

Ok, I have to admit: He made me laugh. But I wasn’t doing it. Having seen my vulnerable side made them bolder, but I’m no lily-of-the-valley. This blood red rose has thorns. While my therapist would tell you that it’s his fault, I see no fault in that. 

As if Josh was distance-reading my mind, the pic was quickly followed by another message. 

Baggins: im serious!

Yeah, he wasn’t, but I got the point. They’d do some other stupid shit eventually. To make me pay. So, 45 minutes later we arrived at the huge house which the guys were renting for the party. Previously notified by Gregory, Josh was already waiting at the door, wearing a red hawaiian shirt and a clown nose. 

“Sparrow! My dearest!” He greeted me dramatically with his arms outstretched. “You look absolutely fabulous…but where are your goggles? You totally need those!” he added after he smooched both sides of my face. The man was already high as a kite and the mixture of weed and tequila attacked my nostrils with brutal force. I wasn’t planning on drinking or smoking anything for my own sake, which only meant that they would appear even more insufferable than they usually do. It’s almost impossible to interact with inebriated Kiszkas while sober. I never understood how Danny could cope. Well, probably because he usually drank just as much. 

I took those goggles with me, just in case, but mainly to tell him that “I’m not putting those on my face, Josh!” 

“Oh no no no, these go on top of your beautiful head, darling.” He took them from me and carefully put them on. I secretly mourned the beautiful art deco headdress I left at home. Eyes or hair, I still looked like a fucking mechanic. 

“Hmmm, yes! Almost perfect. All you need is…” Without finishing the sentence, he started fumbling in his pocket until he pulled out a pink lipstick and smeared some on the top of my nose. I didn’t ask… Exasperated, I just rolled my eyes, as I was glad he finally ushered me inside because my teeth started to chatter. He didn’t even flinch, probably already too drunk to realize it was actually fucking cold outside. 

“So what’s this shit? You dressed as Sam this year? Oh-em-gee, don’t tell me I’m supposed to be you?!” I exclaimed, tugging at the hideous coverall. He just chuckled, snaked his arm around my shoulder and led me into a large living space already full of people whom I didn’t know and didn’t expect. Not your usual rock&roll party.   

“Oh no no no, nothing like that, darling. Ok, let me… where the hell is Jake…”

Yeah, speak of the devil, he just emerged from the adjoined kitchen, deep in conversation with some old geezer dressed as Charlie Chaplin. Seriously, these guys are unbelievable. You’d expect some hot bitches here. Instead, I ended up looking like Rosie the Riveter, in a room full of country crooners. However, my eyebrows shot up at the sight of Jake in an aviator jacket and a fedora hat. “Since when is your brother a fan of Indiana Jones?” Josh snickered again. I was getting really annoyed. The truth is, Indiana Jones was hardly ever completely bare chested and I don’t think his accessories ever included a red party balloon. Meanwhile, Jake spotted us and beelined towards us. He tried to appear serious, but couldn’t really fight off the cheeky smile that was creeping across his face. As he got closer, I could see that the tip of his nose was painted black. I smelled a rat. 

“You look wonderful, Bebe.” He gave me a toothy smile and tipped his head. 

“No, I don’t and you know it. I’m still waiting for an explanation, as your goofy brother refused to give me any. Why are we looking like…”. At that moment, I spotted Sam and Daniel, who looked like Belmondo in his prime except for the enormous, ginger, fake walrus mustache under his prominent nose.

However, my mouth fell open at the sight of Sam, sporting a red turtleneck, fairy wings between his shoulder blades and HUGE, yellow ski goggles, except – unlike me and mine – he really had them on. He looked like… and then it dawned on me… 

Jumping from behind Daniel, he also moved our way to greet me properly. He was literally buzzing. 

… and I ended up on the floor laughing my ass off. Not a rat. Fucking chipmunks! “Oh my god! We are! Oh god, this is fucking hilarious!” I couldn’t stop laughing, while pointing a finger at the two idiots grinning at me from above. “You’ve no idea how fucking accurate this is!” I howled while Jake took a swig of helium from the balloon he was holding. 

“Oh yes, we do!” he squeaked and held a hand for me to pull me back up. I landed right into his arms and collided with him, still wheezing, but as soon as I felt his heart beating against my boobs, the amusement was quickly replaced by another feeling – one which I wasn’t really keen on entertaining. 

I broke the embrace abruptly to say hi to the other two. 

I said I wouldn’t drink, but I really, really needed some whisky real quick. So, with Josh leading the way, we all moved our asses to the kitchen, where I could inquire a bit more about their real intentions. 

“OK baby, I admit that this is both funny and cute, but what exactly is that alleged plan of yours? Unless you enticed me here to fight against a fat tabby cat. I admit Mel looks like one, but… ” 

“We got a photobooth here, darling.” Josh explained, as if that was any explanation at all. He leaned playfully over the counter until he was mere inches away from my face and whispered: “We’re too cute. I think we need a group photo. You can even make a tiktok if you want!”

“And how is that supposed to make things better?” 

Leaning even further forward – literally splattering himself across the counter – he kissed and patted my head, making me feel like a dimwit for even asking. “Well, first, it will show that we’re not fighting. And second, it will make it pretty obvious that we do like you.” 

I let out an exasperated sigh. “Please don’t make me repeat my question.” 

The whisky was doing hardly anything for me. I needed more buzz. I raised my glass suggestively and Jake quickly got a grasp. Standing right next to me, he reached out for the bottle that stood on the counter to Josh’s right. While his pendants swung right in front of my eyes, there was that feeling again…oh dammit! Seemingly oblivious to my internal struggle, he answered while refilling my glass. 

“It’s not supposed to make things better for us, it should make things better for you.” 

Poor little chipmunks. So pretty and SO naive…More fuel to the fire. And I was sure Melissa was going to be absolutely delighted. But, against my better judgment, I let my bitchy, vengeful me take over my professional side momentarily and imagined the backlash with glee. It had a good potential to become viral and the idea filled me with malicious joy… 

Sam brought me back from my reverie… “Can you punks please hurry? I’ll need to change soon!”

“What is he changing into?” I asked Jake.

“Jesus,” he rolled his eyes. “Mary Magdalene will arrive at ten.”

The photo session turned out to be quite fun. True, it was like high school all over again, but this time with the people that I actually liked. And being too old to find the costumes cringy, we simply just enjoyed the moment. When Daniel shouted “cheese”, we all howled with laughter. Yeah, it was cool. Perhaps too cool. I was getting too drawn to them again. 

So, when it was over, I was ready to leave. When I found Josh in the kitchen to say bye, I tried to blame it on the lack of debauchery. Secretly, I was glad there was none. 

“Ok, Josh, thank you. Those photos will be perfect and it was fun and all, but you promised me some shameless shit, and all I’m getting is a kids' theme party, so unless you give me something to stay, I’m leaving.”

I expected him to be disappointed. I did not expect him to be able to do something about it. Actually, he wasn’t sad at all. There was this strange gleam in his eyes that I knew too well. 

“I was getting worried you’d never mention it. Here.” Reaching inside the same pocket in which he was hiding the lipstick, he pulled out a small, rounded remote and handed it to me. 

“What is that?”

“Just try it.” There was a sultry undertone in his voice all of the sudden, which got me intrigued. I pressed the biggest of the three buttons and watched how his lips parted just a tiny bit. Astonished, I watched his chest rise and fall as he kept looking at me intently. Oh god… Away from the music, I could hear something buzzing, although it was barely noticeable. My own eyes widened in realization. 

I pressed another button to increase the intensity and watched him squeeze his eyes shut and bite his lip to keep himself quiet, because we weren’t completely alone. What a sight. To help you imagine the whole picture, he still had the clown – I mean Dale’s – nose on. I took a step closer to whisper in his ear.

“You’re wicked, Joshua!”

Yeah…I stayed. 

“And it’s all for you…” I was sure he meant to sing it, but it came out as a strangled groan. I switched it off and took a step back, pondering over the power that I literally held in my hand.

Watching me examining the little pebble-like thing, he seemed to read my mind once again. “It’s your toy for the evening. But only if you stay, of course. It doesn’t really work long-distance.”

Can you blame me? 

I used it several times during the evening. It was fun watching him squirm during the most inconvenient moments. He even cursed me a few times, but I didn’t make the rules. It was his game and I just played it like a good girl. 

Lol, no. Not good at all. 

I must admit that despite my expectations, I was really having a good time. Sometime around midnight, Sam started absolving everyone from their sins, the Charlie Chaplin guy threw up in the ice bucket, Jake took off his aviator jacket and started jumping around the room while shouting “much better” over and over again, and unsurprisingly, Daniel really knows how to play the bongos. The rest is a blur, but nice. A few dances, a few stolen kisses from both of them, some touching…

Totally innocent, I swear. 

To tell the truth, I could feel my previous resolve crumbling with each new sip of the fiery golden liquid, and judging by how eager the two of them were to keep replenishing my glass, I think it was their mutual goal to keep me there. 

The huge main room got gradually quieter as the night grew thin, until it was just the three of us chilling on the huge couch at three-ish in the morning. Don’t ask me how that happened, because I’ve no idea. Everyone else had either gone back home or disappeared upstairs. I could feel the fatigue slowly taking over my body. I wasn’t exactly sleepy, I just felt like a rag doll. I should have been back home in my bed already, but I simply didn’t want it to end just yet. The place was now illuminated only by string lights, which only added to the tranquil atmosphere. Really festive too, almost christmasy. 

I closed my eyes for a sec, relishing in the moment of peace. My head was spinning just a bit after everything I had drunk that night (sometimes during the night, I switched to martinis), but it only added to the feeling. No one had ever done anything like that for me. 

“This is nice…”

‘This is nice’? OMG, stfu, bitch! This is not a tea party. 

But it WAS, even though neither of us could deny that there was a shitload of underlying tension in the air that made my skin prickle despite the serenity of the moment. Even that was nice. And I had missed it. 

“We were wondering…” 

“Which one of us is better?”

I slowly turned my head to the right to see Jake’s tilted profile. I expected him to continue and to kindly enlighten me what the hell they were wondering, but he kept staring at the ceiling as if he was looking out for God to materialize there.

“Uh huh, and what were you wondering, dear?”

Oh shit…

I took a deep breath first. “That’s almost impossible to tell, Jake. You’re different, each in its own specific way.”

“You sound like a kindergarten teacher.”

“Yeah, I guess, but it’s true.”

And it was. Jake seemed to have a degree in the she-comes-first studies, and by that I don’t mean just cumming. He wouldn’t be able to fall asleep without knowing that he absolutely aced it. Sometimes it turned into a game of dominance, but it almost always ended the same way. He can call you a “cock slut” or worse as part of the game, but you always know you’re being cherished. Almost as if he…no.

I think that deep down, he was a hopeless romantic. 

And Josh? He kept surprising me every day and ALWAYS made sure I was absolutely ok with everything he did, or wanted me to do. I never felt more safe in my whole life. It wasn’t always what I wanted, because I like surprises, but I knew it would make him feel bad. After a while I even realized that I needed it, which frightened me a bit.

Well, thinking about it, they actually had one thing in common. 

See, I was used to taking the things I wanted because no one ever gave me anything and I stopped expecting it a long time ago. And I just couldn’t stop thinking about all the things they had done for me recently, even though they absolutely didn’t have to. 

It made me feel things that I absolutely didn’t want to feel.

And yet it was nice…

“You know Jake, you both excel in one thing, and yet it somehow can’t be measured. Or compared.” 

“Sounds like a fucking oxymoron to me.” 

“Ok, lemme show you.”

I fumbled in my pocket for a few secs until I managed to press the right button without them knowing (ok, ok, without one of them knowing) what I was trying to do. 

The feeble buzzing sound echoed in the silence of the room – followed by a gasp on my left – and as expected, Josh automatically snuggled closer and started nuzzling my neck. 

“See?” I smiled wickedly and increased the intensity again. Josh moaned and his hand slid down to my left breast, kneading it gently. Like a good boy. Always giving back. 

“You didn’t!” Jake straightened up to get a better view of his twin.

“I absolutely did,” the said twin breathed out against my skin, giving me goosebumps.

“The whole night?”

“Focus Jake, not the point…”

“Ok, so what’s your point?”

I tilted my head a bit more to allow Josh a better access and I also cupped his growing bulge. He moaned and snuggled even closer. I turned my eyes on his brother. “What do you wanna do now, Jake?”

“Kill him, actually.” 

Josh chuckled and proceeded to attack my earlobe, nibbling at it and breathing in my ear sultrily. I kept my eyes on Jake the whole time. 

“And apart from that?” 

He moved closer without breaking eye contact and kissed me softly. I parted my lips to allow him to deepen it, but he didn’t. Just a few more teasing pecks before he whispered: “Depends on what you want?”

“Yeah, exactly,” I whispered back. “That is the point.” I had been distant since the end of the tour, and they noticed. And while they kept inquiring and teasing and flirting, they never said that they wanted anything from me. I let go of Josh completely and straightened up a bit. And I also broke the mood completely. 

“This. I want this. I really do. I missed it so much. But…the job…”

“That’s ok.”

“Are you sleepy, sparrow? We can just go to bed. I mean, there’s a separate room just for you.” Josh asked in a low voice while playing with a strand of my hair, before he stroked it in earnest. Goddamit. Seriously.

“No…I haven’t been sleeping well lately,” I answered with honesty. “I mean I am kinda tired, but not really sleepy, no.” 

Yeah, that’s right. I had the opportunity to say that we should call it a night, and I should have done that. But I didn’t want to. And they caught that. I could see them having that spooky, silent eye-to-eye dialogue again, and after a while, Josh continued. 

“You need to rest, you know. And you also told me what helps you the most. Didn’t she tell you as well, Jake?”

“Indeed, she did.”

Gulp…

“The job is fine. You’re doing a great job, actually. And Mel knows it too well. But you've been a bit stressed lately. May I?” Josh pulled at the zipper tap teasingly, just an inch, and I whimpered and nodded. Yeah… So he opened the zipper completely all the way down, with an agonizingly slow pull. 

“No bra…that’s not surprising.”

“But no panties either, Bebe? Tsk, tsk…”

I was completely sandwiched between them and once again it was making me feel dizzy. As I tilted my head back, they both attached themselves to my neck on each side. It was overwhelming in the best way possible, and a loud moan escaped my mouth and the fact that we weren’t really ‘somewhere private’ and anyone could walk in on us made it even more exhilarating. That’s what I had been dreaming of. When I actually got some sleep, that is. 

I expected them to tell me to undress, but they had other selfless plans. Jake’s hand slid down to where there were no panties while Josh set my left boob completely free and bent down to suck on my nipple. 

“Kiss me,” I whispered to Jake and he obliged with urgency and fierceness, swallowing my moans and biting my lip every time I had to catch a breath. 

But his attention was really somewhere else. Between my wet folds, to be more precise. He slid two fingers inside me and started working his magic, with his thumb running gentle circles around my clit. 

I kept my eyes closed and completely – selfishly – gave in to the feeling. 

I could feel Josh’s palm massaging my upper thigh. I could feel his mouth travel slowly up until he reached my jaw and as Jake finally broke the kiss, Josh swiftly took his place. 

I could feel Jake’s fingers curl up against my sensitive spot and I shivered. Lightheaded, as if I was high on oxygen, I felt like melting under their touch. Dripping on them. My breath hitched and I was barely aware of Jake whispering in my ear to let go. My back arched and my whole body convulsed when everything around Jake’s fingers exploded. I could feel them holding me. I could hear them praising me. I slept like a baby until lunch. But not in my room. And not alone. Oh well…

@thewritingbeforesunrise @fleet-of-fiction @writingcold @lvnterninthenight @its-interesting-van-kleep   @takenbythemadness   @edgingthedarkness @jazzyfigz @josh-iamyour-mama @sanguinebats @cheersdannyx2 @gvfstuddedmajesty @fleetingjake @lizzys-sunflower @hollyco @emojakekiszka @gvfmarge @Dayumclarizzel @lipstickitty @watchingover-hypegirl @clownstarr @peaceloveunitygvf @gretasfallingsky @gretnavannfleet @solanjjje @musicislove3389 @i-love-gvf @blankvz @psychedelectable

[pinkthick]

A Nocturne in Melody

Pairing: Viktor x Fem!Reader

Word Count:7976 (about 25 minutes reading time)

Summary: “You were extraordinary,” Viktor said softly, his voice tinged with awe. He pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with the same wonder he’d shown back when you’d played for him in your small, shared apartment for the first time. “I don’t think anyone could look away. You had the entire hall in the palm of your hand.”

Notes: Okay, I’m super nervous about how this turned out, but I really hope you guys enjoy it! Please keep in mind that English isn’t my first language, so if you spot any mistakes, I’m so sorry.😭 But you guys asked for a vampire AU so here it is.🦇

Warnings: Nonconsensual blood drinking, a little bit of violence

Masterlist: A Nocturne in Melody

Part 1

You stood in front of the mirror, hands pressed on either side of the little vanity, fingers just slightly trembling as you gazed at your reflection. The room was filled with a warm, golden glow from the single lamp on the dresser, casting soft light over your face. You were already dressed for the night in your performance outfit—a rich, dark fabric that felt both extravagant and grounding, hugging your form in just the right way. But looking at yourself now, it was hard to recognize the calm, confident person you had always hoped would stand here. Instead, nerves buzzed through you like electricity, racing in your veins and tugging at the edges of your thoughts.

Two hours until the performance.

Just as you took a deep breath, the familiar sound of Viktor’s footsteps creaked across the floorboards behind you. The comforting rhythm pulled a small, grateful smile from you. Viktor had always been able to ease your anxiety, even when you felt like your nerves were getting the best of you. He had been by your side through so much already—through every high and every low, through the days of playing in dimly lit bars where you’d strain to be heard over the clinking of glasses, and now, finally, for this night, the night you’d been dreaming of for so long.

“Are you alright?” His voice was soft, his accent a warm familiarity in a world that could often feel so overwhelming. Viktor moved to stand beside you, his gentle gaze studying you through the reflection. His eyes held that glimmer of quiet encouragement, the same look he’d given you so many times before, from when you’d first arrived in Piltover with him to those early, uncertain days at the Academy, to now.

You let out a shaky breath, glancing over at him in the mirror. “I’m… I don’t know, Vik. It just feels like… I don’t know if I can do this. What if I mess up? What if I don’t sound right? This is my one shot to actually play somewhere… somewhere important. I don’t want to ruin it.”

He reached out, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. His touch was warm, grounding. “You’ve played in more difficult places, with far worse distractions. This? This is just… a room filled with people who came to hear the music. Nothing else.”

You bit your lip, still unsure. “It’s different this time. This isn’t just any performance. This is… this is the performance, Vik. And what if—what if something goes wrong?”

He shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “You’re going to be brilliant. Like you always are. You have no idea how many people are about to be captivated by you.”

You chuckled, trying to dispel the nerves. “And how would you know?”

“Because I know you. And I know that when you play, you become someone… extraordinary.” His words were laced with the quiet confidence that only Viktor seemed to have when it came to you. You wondered how he always seemed to have so much faith in you, more than you often had in yourself. It was one of the things you loved most about him.

Just as you were beginning to feel that comfort settle, Viktor let out a cough—a deep, rattling cough that shook his frame. You turned to him immediately, worry flashing across your face.

“Viktor, are you okay?”

He waved a hand dismissively, his other still clutching at his chest. “Yes, yes—it’s more annoying than anything. Don’t worry.” He tried to smile through it, but you could see the faint shadows under his eyes, the slight way his shoulders drooped from fatigue. Viktor had always been frail, even when you were children, but it seemed that lately, his health had been getting worse.

“Are you sure?” You placed a hand over his, concern clear in your eyes.

“I’m alright,” he insisted softly, his fingers lacing through yours. “Tonight is about you, not me. Don’t worry about this. You should be focusing on… this big night of yours.” He gave you a reassuring squeeze, but you knew there was a truth to his weariness, one he rarely admitted aloud.

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, hands entwined, the weight of both your worries lingering in the air. You took a deep breath, letting his presence soothe you, even though you were still worried about him.

He could see the concern in your gaze, and he tilted his head, lips pulling into a gentle smile. “I told you,” he murmured, “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right there, watching you.”

You laughed softly. “You better. It would feel strange to be up there without knowing you’re out in the audience, ready to give me that silly thumbs-up you do.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “And don’t think I’ll let you worry about me instead of enjoying yourself tonight.”

“But I always worry about you, Vik. You’re—well, you’re my everything.” The words slipped out before you could catch them, and you felt a faint blush warm your cheeks.

He raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Everything?”

You laughed, swatting at his arm. “Don’t get all smug. You know exactly what I mean.”

“Oh, I do. And I’ll be reminding you of it every chance I get,” he teased, the corner of his mouth quirking into that familiar grin of his.

Rolling your eyes, you pulled away and tried to focus back on your reflection, adjusting your collar and smoothing out invisible wrinkles in your clothes. Viktor leaned against the doorframe, watching you quietly, the fondness in his gaze unmistakable.

“You know,” he said, after a moment of watching you fuss with your outfit, “I’ve always admired that about you. No matter how nervous you get, you never let it stop you. You go out there and do it anyway. It’s… inspiring.”

You turned to face him, struck by the sincerity in his voice. “Viktor…”

He smiled, that soft, quiet smile he wore just for you. “I mean it. You’re going to make an impact tonight, not just because of your music, but because of who you are. The world needs to hear what you have to offer. And tonight is just the beginning.”

Feeling a swell of emotion, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace. He held you close, his head resting above yours, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. This moment felt perfect, even with all your nerves, even with the worry gnawing at the back of your mind about Viktor’s health.

Finally, you pulled back, taking a deep breath. “Alright, okay. I think… I think I’m ready. At least, as ready as I’ll ever be.”

Viktor nodded, eyes twinkling with a mixture of pride and encouragement. “That’s my girl.”

Just as you were about to speak, he coughed again, the sound harsh and jarring in the quiet room. You reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder, your concern flaring up once more.

“Viktor, maybe you shouldn’t come tonight. I mean, I would love to have you there, but if you’re not feeling well…”

He shook his head firmly. “Absolutely not. There’s no way I’d miss this.” His voice was resolute, though you could hear the strain in it. He gave you a reassuring smile, even though you could see the exhaustion tugging at the edges of his expression.

After a long pause, he took your hand in his, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “Look… I know things have been hard. With my health, with… everything.” He hesitated, his gaze dropping for a moment. “But being with you, seeing you chase your dreams… it gives me hope. And tonight, you’re going to show the world who you really are. You’re going to shine brighter than anyone else in that room.”

Your heart tightened at his words, a mixture of love and sadness flooding through you. You knew he was fighting his own battles, battles he didn’t always share with you, but he was here, right beside you, lifting you up when you needed it most.

“Thank you, Viktor. For… for everything.” You whispered, your voice filled with emotion.

He gave a small nod, his eyes meeting yours with that unwavering warmth. “Anytime.”

Taking a final deep breath, you let his words ground you. You knew that no matter what happened tonight, Viktor would be there, your constant, your strength.

—

The energy backstage hummed with tension and excitement, performers and crew members rushing around in various states of preparation. You could feel the nervous buzz in your stomach intensify as the seconds ticked down, the final stretch before you would take the stage and pour yourself into the violin like never before.

You kept close to your crew, some of whom you’d been working with for months now, building camaraderie and trust through rehearsals, late nights, and shared dreams. Your ensemble would be joining you after the opening, but there was one critical difference tonight—a solo piece right in the beginning that would be yours alone, something you’d been working toward for as long as you could remember. And now, it was happening.

Trying to steady your breathing, you focused on the music, visualizing each note, each crescendo, letting it ground you. But even with that, the nerves remained, the weight of the night pressing down harder than ever.

Just then, one of your ensemble members, Claire, stepped beside you. She was tuning her violin, and the sound mingled with the other instruments tuning in the background. You’d never been particularly close with her; she was more reserved, almost aloof, often keeping to herself during practices. But she was talented—there was no denying that—and you’d always respected her for her skill.

“Are you doing okay, darling?”

Trying to make small talk to ease the tension, you murmured, “I’m just so nervous—”

“Why?” Claire’s tone was sharp, almost biting, and you looked up, surprised. “Because you know you don’t deserve it?”

You blinked, taken aback by her sudden hostility. “Excuse me?”

She didn’t bother to look at you as she continued tuning her instrument, her fingers moving with practiced ease. “Apparently, it helps to have a boyfriend who’s friends with one of the council’s members.” Her voice was laced with disdain, her words dripping with accusation.

You could feel your heart drop, a mixture of anger and hurt bubbling up in response. “What are you trying to say, Claire?”

She shrugged, casting a sidelong glance your way, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Just that some of us have been working our entire lives for a shot like this. And it’s a little convenient that you, of all people, suddenly get handed a solo spot. Especially when your… boyfriend has connections.” She said the word “boyfriend” like it left a sour taste in her mouth.

You felt your cheeks flush, both from embarrassment and frustration. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve worked just as hard as anyone here.”

“Maybe.” Claire gave a slight, dismissive tilt of her head. “But it’s just a little too easy, isn’t it? For you to show up here, playing in bars, and suddenly you’re front and center with a solo spot that should have gone to someone who’s actually earned it.”

You clenched your jaw, fighting to keep your voice steady. “I have earned it, Claire. Every step of the way. I practiced just as hard as you, worked just as long, and went through every audition like everyone else.”

Claire laughed softly, a sound that felt more like a slap in the face than anything else. “Keep telling yourself that. But you and I both know that without Viktor’s influence, you’d still be playing for drunks in some tavern on the outskirts.”

Anger flared in your chest, but more than that, her words cut deep. You had worked hard—endlessly, tirelessly, pushing yourself past your limits to reach this point. And yes, Viktor had been by your side, supporting you, encouraging you, but never once had he interfered in your career. He believed in you and wanted you to succeed, but he would never use his influence to sway things in your favor. And to hear Claire throw all that back in your face like this felt like a betrayal.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said, your voice firm, though your hands were still trembling. “This solo isn’t something Viktor handed to me. I got it because I deserved it.”

Claire finally looked at you fully, her eyes cold and challenging. “Deserved it? Really? That’s interesting, because a lot of us seem to think otherwise.” She leaned in, voice lowering to a hiss. “Enjoy the spotlight while you can, because people will see through you eventually.”

You bit your lip, resisting the urge to fire back. A scene backstage was the last thing you needed, especially tonight, of all nights. Instead, you forced yourself to turn away, ignoring the way Claire’s words lingered, gnawing at your thoughts.

You lifted your violin case onto a table and opened it, drawing out the familiar weight of the instrument. Just holding it in your hands eased some of the tension, grounding you. You adjusted the bow, glancing toward the stage door, where you’d soon step out and face the audience, every eye on you, waiting for the first note.

A soft voice beside you made you look up. It was one of the cellists, a quiet, kind man named Alain. He smiled gently, his gaze sympathetic. “Don’t let her get to you,” he murmured. “Anyone with any sense can see how talented you are. You’ve earned this.”

You gave him a grateful smile, warmth blooming in your chest. “Thanks, Alain. That… that means a lot.”

He nodded, patting your shoulder. “Just remember—you’ve got more people cheering for you than against you.”

The stage director waved you over, signaling that it was almost time. Alain gave you an encouraging nod before stepping back to let you focus. You took one last deep breath, then moved toward the stage door, positioning yourself for your entrance. The murmurs of the audience on the other side seemed to fade as you centered yourself, mentally running through the opening notes of your solo.

With a final look at the dim backstage area, you squared your shoulders, holding your violin and bow steady. You felt the soft pressure of the wood against your collarbone, grounding you, connecting you to the music you were about to play.

The lights dimmed, and a hush fell over the crowd. The world narrowed down to the single spotlight on the stage, waiting for you to step into it. You closed your eyes briefly, letting Viktor’s words settle in your mind one last time.

You’re going to shine.

With a final, calming breath, you stepped onto the stage, letting the applause wash over you as you took your position. You could barely make out the faces in the crowd, but you knew Viktor was there somewhere, watching you with that quiet pride. And for a moment, all the nerves melted away, replaced by the steady, familiar rhythm of your heartbeat.

You raised your bow, poised for the first note.

As your bow touched the strings, the first note pierced the silence, resonating through the hall. It felt like time slowed, the world narrowing down to the sound of your violin and the rhythm of your breath. The nerves, the doubts, the sting of Claire’s words—they all melted away, replaced by the sheer exhilaration of the music. Each note carried years of practice, of late nights, and of dreams you’d clung to when everything seemed too far away. This was everything you had worked for, and now it was happening.

As the solo flowed from your fingers, you opened your eyes for a fleeting moment and caught a glimpse of the audience. Row after row was filled, people rapt with attention. And there, nestled in the fourth row, was Viktor. His gaze was focused entirely on you, his expression proud and calm. For that brief moment, your eyes met, and you could feel his silent encouragement. It was as if he was right there beside you, grounding you, his unwavering support wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

That one look from Viktor renewed your confidence, and you poured yourself even more deeply into the music. The notes filled the hall, flowing effortlessly as you surrendered to the melody. The violin felt like an extension of yourself, every stroke of the bow an expression of everything you wanted to say but never could. By the time the orchestra joined in, the sound swelled around you, lifting the piece to new heights. You let yourself get lost in the harmony, the layers of instruments weaving together into a tapestry of sound. It was beautiful—something beyond what words could capture.

As the last note lingered, the hall fell silent, a charged, expectant pause hanging in the air before the applause erupted, thunderous and relentless. You lowered your violin, heart racing, the echoes of the performance still buzzing through you. You took a bow, your heart swelling at the standing ovation that met you. For a moment, you felt like you could hardly breathe, overcome by the sheer intensity of it all.

When you finally left the stage, the backstage was a mix of bustling musicians and congratulatory voices. You stood there, letting it all sink in, a quiet smile on your face as the reality of what had just happened settled over you. It was a strange, surreal feeling—one part triumph, one part relief. You closed your eyes for a moment, savoring it, before a familiar voice called out.

“Hey, over here!”

Opening your eyes, you saw Viktor waving you over, his face lit with a grin. Jayce stood beside him, clapping with a mischievous grin as if to add a little extra to the applause you’d just left behind on stage.

You made your way over, the excitement still bubbling in you as Viktor pulled you into a warm hug, his embrace gentle yet grounding. You could feel the pride radiating from him, and it filled you with a sense of warmth and fulfillment that only he could bring.

“You were extraordinary,” Viktor said softly, his voice tinged with awe. He pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with the same wonder he’d shown back when you’d played for him in your small, shared apartment for the first time. “I don’t think anyone could look away. You had the entire hall in the palm of your hand.”

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, a laugh escaping you as you shook your head. “I… thank you. But honestly, it was as much your belief in me as anything else.”

Jayce laughed, clapping you on the back with a wide grin. “Not just belief. Pure talent. I haven’t seen a performance like that in ages. Viktor wasn’t exaggerating when he told me how good you were.”

“Jayce, please, you’re embarrassing me,” Viktor teased, though his eyes sparkled with pride. He glanced at you, his expression softening. “It was… beyond words. You were more than I ever dreamed you could be up there.”

You reached for Viktor’s hand, giving it a small squeeze. “Thank you, Vik. For everything. I don’t think I could have gotten here without you.”

He shook his head, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You’ve always had this inside you. I just… helped you find a place to show it to the world.”

Just as you were about to respond, Jayce’s gaze wandered back toward the crowd exiting the theater, and his expression shifted to something a bit more serious. He leaned in, lowering his voice. “You know, you really should consider sharing your music more often. Maybe a few more performances? I think I might know some people who’d love to see you play again.”

You glanced at Viktor, who gave a small, encouraging nod. The idea of doing this more often, of finding more places to share your music, excited you. It was something you’d dreamed of, and now, it seemed more possible than ever.

“I… I’d love that,” you replied, smiling at Jayce. “Thank you.”

Jayce grinned, giving Viktor a nudge. “See, I told you she’d be a hit.”

Viktor laughed softly, his arm slipping around your shoulders as he turned back to you. “I think I already knew that. But I don’t mind hearing it again.”

You laughed with him, feeling a warmth settle over you as Viktor held you close, his gaze never leaving yours. The moment felt perfect, and you could feel the weight of everything you’d overcome to reach this point slipping away, replaced by a quiet, steady joy.

But just as you were beginning to feel fully at ease, a piercing scream split through the air, cutting through the celebratory buzz of the crowd. The sound was sharp, filled with terror, and it silenced the laughter and murmured conversations around you. Everyone froze, their eyes wide as they looked toward the source of the scream.

The smile faded from Viktor’s face, and he looked at you, a flicker of worry in his gaze. Jayce’s expression hardened, his body tense as he scanned the room, eyes narrowing.

Another scream followed, closer this time, echoing through the hallway leading to the entrance of the theater.

The scream echoed through the air, sharp and bone-chilling, freezing everyone in place. For a split second, everything felt suspended. Then the doors burst open, and chaos erupted.

In the dim lighting near the entrance, you caught a flash of something terrifying—a figure moving too fast for human eyes to follow, leaving a trail of bodies in its wake. People screamed, scrambling for any exit they could reach, some tripping over one another in the frenzy to escape. It was like watching a nightmare unfold in real time. You recognized it immediately: a rogue vampire, one of the few who’d abandoned the code that kept them integrated with human society, choosing violence and terror instead.

Viktor tightened his hold on you, his face a mix of shock and fear. He met your gaze, his eyes wide, but he managed to keep his voice steady. "Stay with me. We'll find a way out."

The crowd surged around you, pushing and pulling in every direction as the vampire tore through the panicked masses, relishing the fear and chaos it created. You clutched Viktor's arm, trying to keep your balance, but you could feel the force of the crowd pulling you both apart.

Viktor's grip on his cane tightened as he tried to keep up, his breathing ragged from the effort. But the throng of panicking people made every step more difficult, and you could see the strain in his face.

The surge of the crowd made it impossible to stay close, and you tried to hold onto his hand but it was useless. The crowd pushed you forward, separating you from Viktor as you were swept toward the exit. "Just go!" Viktor shouted, looking back at you with desperation. "I—I'll be fine! Just get out of here!" You turned back, searching the crowd for any glimpse of him, but it was impossible to see through the sea of bodies.

You pushed against the flow, desperately trying to get back to him, but the surge was too strong, and the fear in people’s faces reminded you of the danger closing in behind you. Then, just as you thought about trying to break through the throng again, you spotted a child—no more than six or seven—frozen in terror, her wide eyes fixed on the chaos around her. She stood alone, trembling, her face streaked with tears as she looked helplessly toward the exits that were now jammed with desperate people.

You could feel the panic gnawing at you, the need to find Viktor tugging at your heart, but you couldn’t leave the little girl alone in the midst of this horror. Her small frame was at risk of being trampled by the crowd, her frightened eyes darting from one screaming adult to another, unable to comprehend the danger around her.

Taking a deep breath, you fought against the tide of people, making your way toward the girl. "Hey!" you called, trying to get her attention. She turned, her tear-streaked face lighting up with a glimmer of hope as she saw you approaching.

You knelt down, forcing a calm smile despite the chaos around you. "It’s okay, sweetheart," you said softly, reaching out to her. "I’m going to get you out of here, all right? Can you take my hand?"

The girl nodded, her tiny hand slipping into yours, her grip surprisingly tight as she clung to you like a lifeline. You could feel her small fingers trembling, and you gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Stay close to me, and don’t let go," you told her, giving her a quick smile. "We’ll be safe soon. Just keep your eyes on me."

Together, you tried to navigate through the chaos, weaving between panicked people and dodging those who shoved their way to the exits. You cast a quick glance back, hoping for a glimpse of Viktor, but all you saw was the sea of terrified faces, all rushing toward any available way out.

Behind you, the rogue vampire continued its rampage, a blur of dark movement in the corner of your vision. You could hear the inhuman snarls and the horrific sounds of screams being cut short, sending fresh waves of panic through the crowd. You knew you had to keep moving, but part of you wanted nothing more than to find Viktor and get him to safety. However, the little girl’s hand in yours kept you grounded, her frightened gaze fixed on you as if you were her only anchor in the storm of chaos.

You guided her through the crowd, but the further you went, the harder it became to move forward. People were frantic, shoving past you in every direction, and each step felt like a battle to keep your balance. At one point, you stumbled, nearly losing your grip on the girl’s hand, but she clung to you with surprising strength.

A sudden crash echoed from behind, and you glanced back just in time to see a row of seats go flying, thrown aside like toys by the vampire’s inhuman strength. The creature’s eyes gleamed with a sick delight as it scanned the crowd, seeking out anyone unfortunate enough to cross its path. You swallowed hard, realizing that you and the girl were still too close to the center of the chaos. If you didn’t find an exit soon, there was a very real chance you wouldn’t make it out.

You spotted a small side door, partially hidden behind a curtain, and steered the girl toward it. She looked up at you, her wide eyes filled with a mix of fear and hope as she followed your lead. But just as you reached the door, another wave of panicked people crashed into you, separating you from the child. You stumbled, reaching out to grab her, but she was swept a few feet away, lost in the chaos.

Heart pounding, you fought against the crowd, calling out to her. "Wait! Don’t move! I’m coming to get you!"

The girl looked back at you, her face pale with fear, but she nodded, ducking down behind a row of seats in a desperate attempt to stay hidden. You took a shaky breath, determination surging within you as you pushed your way forward, dodging people and debris as you made your way toward her hiding spot.

As you drew closer, you saw her peeking out from behind the seats, her small form huddled down as if trying to make herself invisible. Her wide, fearful eyes met yours, and she gave a tiny, trembling nod, as if pleading with you to come and take her to safety.

—

The screams and pounding footsteps made it almost impossible to focus, but Viktor kept pushing forward. Each step was agony without his cane, but he couldn’t stop, not when he knew you were somewhere out there. The crowd jostled him from every side, and he had to brace himself against a wall, clutching at his leg to keep himself upright. His cane had been knocked from his grasp in the chaos, and he felt the sting of its absence, each step sending a sharp pain up his leg.

He looked around, desperation clawing at him as he scanned the sea of faces, trying to find you. All he could think of was getting to you, making sure you were safe. His heart hammered in his chest, fear twisting his insides as he forced himself forward, determined to reach you.

Then, above the chaotic din, there was a sudden, deafening crash. Viktor’s heart skipped a beat as he turned, his eyes widening in horror. A massive statue had toppled over, smashing into the crowd. People screamed, some scrambling away, others lying motionless beneath the heavy stone. Viktor’s breath caught as he recognized a familiar figure trapped beneath the rubble. It was you.

You were pinned beneath the statue, one of your legs crushed under the weight. Your face was pale, your breaths shallow as you struggled to keep your composure despite the agony written across your features. Beside you was the little girl, tears streaming down her face as she tried, in vain, to push at the stone.

Viktor’s heart shattered at the sight. He limped forward, shoving through the crowd with all the strength he could muster, ignoring the pain that throbbed with each step. He had to reach you. Nothing else mattered.

“Oh my—” Viktor gasped as he finally reached your side, kneeling down beside you, his hands hovering over the statue as if willing it to move by sheer force of will. His face was etched with worry, his brow furrowed as he took in the sight of your crushed leg, the blood pooling around you. “No, no, this—”

You managed a weak smile, trying to keep him calm despite the agony you were in. “Viktor, you can’t lift it. Please… take the little girl and go.”

Viktor’s eyes met yours, a mixture of panic and stubborn resolve in his gaze. “I can’t leave you. Not like this.”

“Vik…” you said, your voice barely a whisper as the pain threatened to consume you. “The enforcers will be here. They’ll help me. But the girl… she needs you. Please, get her to safety.”

He shook his head, reaching out to take your hand, his grip trembling. “I can’t just leave you here. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

You could feel yourself getting weaker, the edges of your vision blurring as the blood loss took its toll. But you squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him even as your strength faded. “I’ll be fine, I promise. Just… go.”

Viktor’s jaw clenched, his eyes shining with tears as he looked between you and the terrified little girl by your side. He knew he had to do something, but leaving you felt like an impossibility. His heart was breaking at the thought, and he could see the desperation in your eyes, urging him to save the child.

The girl looked up at Viktor, her small hand clutching his sleeve as she tried to hold back her tears. “Please… don’t leave her,” she whispered, her voice quivering with fear.

Just then, a dark figure appeared, closing in on Viktor from behind—the rogue vampire, its eyes gleaming with malicious glee as it prowled closer, reveling in the despair and fear surrounding it. In an instant, you realized what was about to happen.

“Viktor!” you shouted, panic lacing your voice. “Behind you!”

Before Viktor could react, the vampire lunged forward, knocking him to the ground with brutal force. His body hit the stone floor with a harsh thud, and a flash of agony contorted his features as his hand hit the ground, fingers splaying out as he tried to steady himself. But before he could even attempt to push himself up, the vampire’s claws sank into his shoulders, pinning him in place.

“No!” The word tore from your throat in a ragged gasp, but it was too late, and your voice was barely a whisper over the noise around you. You tried to sit up, to reach him, but pain seared through your leg, stealing the strength from your body. You watched helplessly as the vampire leaned down, its eyes gleaming with sadistic glee.

With a swift, calculated movement, the vampire sank its fangs into his neck. Viktor’s mouth opened in a scream, his body tensing as pain wracked through him. His eyes were wide, horrified, as he realized the horror unfolding around him. He thought he’d be killed, that the vampire would drain his blood and leave him here, another victim of this nightmare.

But then the vampire’s gaze shifted, its expression shifting into something far darker, more sinister. It straightened, its fangs stained with Viktor’s blood, and it lifted its wrist to its mouth, biting into its own flesh until dark, thick blood welled up, dripping from the wound. His eyes widened in horror as he realized what was about to happen, the cruel intention clear in the vampire’s eyes.

“No… no,” he whispered, his voice barely audible as he struggled against the vampire’s hold, his body weak and trembling from the blood loss. But the vampire only sneered, lowering its bleeding wrist toward Viktor’s mouth, the blood dripping onto his lips, staining them a deep, unnatural red.

Viktor clamped his mouth shut, desperately trying to resist, but the scent of the vampire’s blood was overwhelming, intoxicating. It was like a dark whisper, an ancient hunger clawing its way into his mind, demanding he surrender, that he let go of his humanity. His stomach twisted with revulsion, but the scent of the blood was everywhere, filling his senses, drowning him.

“Drink,” the vampire hissed, its voice a dark, hypnotic command. “You can’t resist it forever, human.”

Viktor clenched his jaw, trying to turn away, but the blood dripped past his lips, pooling on his tongue, and the taste… it was unlike anything he’d ever known. It was rich, powerful, and it filled him with a hunger so fierce it was like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. His resistance crumbled as the need, the burning desire for more, overtook him.

He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to become a monster, to lose himself to the darkness, but he was losing control, his mind slipping as the hunger grew, overpowering every thought, every reason. His body moved of its own accord, his teeth sinking into the vampire’s wrist as if he were nothing more than a starving animal.

The taste of the blood was electric, searing through him like fire, and he drank deeply, his mind consumed by a primal need he couldn’t understand, let alone fight. Part of him screamed, begging him to stop, but the hunger was too powerful, too consuming. He wanted to stop, but his body refused to listen, driven by a need that was no longer human.

The vampire laughed, watching with satisfaction as Viktor gave in, as the last shred of resistance faded from his eyes, replaced by a desperate, feral hunger. Viktor’s hands gripped the vampire’s arm, pulling it closer as he drank, his body trembling as the blood filled him with an unnatural strength, a power that felt foreign and wrong, but irresistible.

The world around him faded, his thoughts growing hazy as the blood coursed through him, reshaping him, changing him. He felt his humanity slipping away, piece by piece, swallowed by the darkness that consumed him. And yet, he couldn’t stop, couldn’t pull away, even as he felt the horror of what he was becoming.

You watched in horror, your vision blurring as you tried to hold on, your heart breaking as you saw the man you loved losing himself to the darkness. But you were too weak, too close to the edge, and your body was betraying you. The world around you grew dim, the sounds fading to a distant echo as you slipped into unconsciousness, the last thing you saw being Viktor, lost in the vampire’s hold, his humanity slipping away with each desperate gulp of blood.

Viktor drank until he could no longer think, until he was nothing but hunger and need, his mind a twisted, broken version of itself. Then, finally, the vampire pulled its wrist away, a satisfied smirk on its face as it watched Viktor collapse to the ground, his body shivering as the last drops of blood settled within him.

Viktor’s vision was spinning, the world around him a haze of colors and shadows. He could feel the blood in his veins, burning like fire, filling him with a strength he hadn’t known, a power that felt both thrilling and terrifying. He tried to move, to get up, but his body refused to obey, too overwhelmed by the transformation raging within him.

As he lay there, the vampire leaned over him, its cold fingers tracing along his jaw with a sickeningly affectionate touch. “There now,” it murmured, almost lovingly. “You’re one of us now. You’ll learn to love it in time.”

But before it could say more, there was a sudden burst of light, a blinding flash that filled the room, and the vampire hissed, recoiling as the enforcers burst through the doors, weapons raised. Their guns were loaded with hex crystals that glowed with a fierce, deadly energy.

The vampire turned, snarling, its eyes blazing with fury as it prepared to attack. But the enforcers were faster, their weapons firing in unison, beams of energy slicing through the air. The vampire let out a piercing scream as the bullets struck its body, tearing through its flesh, burning with a light that was anathema to its dark nature.

It tried to fight, lashing out with desperate, wild swings, but the enforcers pressed forward, their weapons relentless, each shot weakening the creature until it could barely stand. Finally, with one last, agonized scream, the vampire fell, its body disintegrating into ashes.

Viktor lay there, gasping, his body still trembling as he struggled to process what had happened. The enforcers moved quickly, securing the area, but he barely noticed them, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and fear. He could feel the changes within him, the lingering hunger, the strange, unnatural strength that pulsed through his veins.

And as he lay there, he looked at you and the little girl next to you.

—

Bright light pierced the darkness as you drifted back to consciousness. It was soft, filtered through closed curtains, but it was enough to make you squint. You could feel the sterile coolness of hospital sheets against your skin and hear the distant hum of machinery nearby. The dull ache in your leg quickly sharpened into an intense throb, pulsing in time with your heartbeat. You sucked in a breath, hissing through clenched teeth as pain clawed up from the injured limb.

“Easy now.” A familiar voice cut through the fog in your mind. Blinking against the light, you focused on the figure standing beside the bed—Jayce, looking tired and somewhat rumpled, as though he hadn’t slept well for days. Beside him was a doctor with a clipboard, whose serious gaze shifted between you and your chart.

“You’re… in the hospital,” Jayce explained, his voice softer than usual. “You’ve been here for a while, actually.”

You looked down, swallowing hard as your gaze settled on the cast covering most of your leg. The ache wasn’t going away anytime soon; it was sharp, almost burning, a reminder of the statue that had pinned you down in that nightmare. Trying to shift even a little was unbearable, so you stayed as still as possible, biting back the pain that flared with every tiny movement.

The doctor adjusted his glasses, looking at you with a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “It’s a miracle we even managed to… save it,” he said carefully. “We had to perform multiple surgeries to stabilize the bones and repair the damage. But I have to be honest: your leg won’t fully heal. The injury was extensive.”

You forced yourself to take a steadying breath, though the doctor’s words hung heavily in the air. You’d known, on some level, that things were bad—pain like this didn’t come from a minor injury. But hearing the confirmation, realizing that your leg would never be the same, was still a hard truth to swallow.

“How long?” you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor exchanged a quick glance with Jayce before replying. “You’ve been unconscious for about a week,” he said gently. “The trauma, combined with blood loss… it was touch and go for a while. But you’re here, and that’s what matters.”

You nodded numbly, too tired to process all of it at once. Instead, your mind latched onto the one thing that hadn’t left your thoughts since you’d woken up—the absence of a familiar voice, one you’d thought would be here with you.

��What happened to Viktor?” you asked, dread curling around each word as you forced yourself to look up at Jayce, searching his face for any hint of reassurance. “Is he… Is he all right?”

Jayce’s expression tightened, a flicker of something troubled passing over his face before he sighed, looking away as though gathering his thoughts. “Viktor’s… alive,” he said finally, his tone cautious. “But the situation is complicated.”

“What do you mean?” The pulse of worry surged into full-fledged fear, tightening your throat as you fought to keep your voice steady. “Where is he?”

Jayce hesitated before answering, his shoulders slumping slightly. “You know the protocols,” he said reluctantly. “After the attack, Viktor was transferred to a specialized facility—a containment unit. He’s being held there until they can determine… well, if he’ll be safe around humans.”

The words hit you like a blow, the sterile reality of it settling uncomfortably around you. A containment unit. As if Viktor were some kind of dangerous creature rather than the man you loved, the man who had been caught in the crossfire of that monstrous attack just as much as you had.

“But Viktor isn’t a threat,” you said, barely managing to keep your voice steady. “He didn’t ask for this. It was… forced on him.”

“I know,” Jayce replied, and there was genuine sympathy in his voice. “But the council, the enforcers—they have strict regulations. Anyone who’s been… transformed… has to be evaluated thoroughly to make sure they’re not a danger to society.”

You swallowed hard, the ache in your chest growing as Jayce’s words sank in. “So he’s… he’s being kept in isolation?”

Jayce nodded, his gaze softening. “He’s been asking about you nonstop, every time I visit him. He’s worried—but he’s making progress.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the weight of everything that had happened settled heavily on your shoulders. The image of Viktor, alone and isolated, torn between his humanity and the dark hunger forced upon him… it was more than you could bear. You wanted to be there with him, to reassure him, to tell him that none of this was his fault. But you were trapped here, bound by the limits of your own body and the damage that had been done.

“How long do they plan to keep him there?” you asked, desperation leaking into your voice.

Jayce rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze fixed on the floor. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It depends on the evaluations, how well he’s able to control himself. If there’s any risk of… him losing control, they’ll keep him longer.”

The thought was unbearable, but you forced yourself to press on, to get as much information as you could. “And if he passes? What then?”

Jayce met your gaze, his expression somber. “Then he’ll be allowed supervised release, possibly… eventually, back to his normal life. But they’re strict about monitoring anyone with vampiric tendencies. Especially ones that had been transformed. He’ll be under close watch, no matter what.”

You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath as you absorbed the reality of the situation. The council’s protocols were harsh, unyielding, and you could only imagine the toll they would take on Viktor, who had always prided himself on his control, his intellect. Now, he was facing something he couldn’t simply reason his way out of—a primal force inside him that threatened to consume everything he was.

“There was a little girl—is she alright?” you asked, struggling to keep your voice steady.

Jayce’s hand rested on the side of your bed, his grip tightening slightly as he met your gaze. “Yes, she’s okay. The enforcers responded quickly to the attack, and they managed to take down the rogue vampire, but… by the time they got to you, you’d lost a lot of blood. They had to act fast to save your leg and… well, to keep you here.”

A small, humorless laugh escaped you as you looked down at your leg encased in plaster. “Great. A constant reminder of all of this—but at least she’s okay.” You shook your head, bitterness tainting the edges of your words. The thought of Viktor, suffering alone in that containment facility, while you were here, struggling with your own pain and limitations, was almost too much to bear.

Jayce’s gaze softened as he reached out, gently squeezing your hand. “I know it’s hard, but you’re not alone in this. Viktor… he cares about you. I’ve seen it every time I visit. He doesn’t care about the pain or the changes; he only cares about knowing you’re safe.”

Tears slipped from the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as you clutched Jayce’s hand tightly. “He shouldn’t be in there. None of this should’ve happened,” you whispered, your voice breaking as the weight of the past week crashed over you.

Jayce gave your hand another reassuring squeeze, his expression pained. “You’re right. It’s unfair. But the best we can do now is help him get through it.”

The thought of Viktor, holding on to his humanity even in the face of such darkness, filled you with a fierce determination. You’d already come this far, survived this nightmare, and you weren’t going to let it end here. Somehow, you’d find a way to get him out, to bring him back. You’d be there for him, just as he’d been there for you all this time.

The doctor, who had been quietly observing, spoke up, his voice calm but firm. “For now, you need rest and recovery. The worst is behind you, but your body needs time to heal. Pushing yourself too soon will only worsen things.”

You nodded, though your mind was already racing, searching for any way to reach Viktor, to let him know you were there for him even if you couldn’t be by his side.

As the doctor left, Jayce lingered by your bedside, his expression thoughtful. “Once you’re well enough… I’ll see what I can do to get you in to see him,” he said quietly. “But for now… focus on healing. He’d want that.”

The promise in his words gave you a small glimmer of hope, a lifeline in the darkness that had consumed both you and Viktor. You squeezed Jayce’s hand in silent gratitude, the two of you sharing a quiet, unspoken understanding.

A/N: Hope you guys liked it. 🙏🏻 This will have around 4 parts and the 4th one will be smut. 😉

@thehistoriangirl

[ghouljams]

this is a sex ed question. feel free to ignore, i just feel more comfortable asking here.

i have a somewhat large skin tag on my anus.

i am a virgin, and more than that, i’ve yet to even have a first kiss, so i am about as inexperienced with relationships/sex as you can get. logically, an anal skin tag won’t effect my pleasure, or a hypothetical partners pleasure, but, to be blunt, is it weird? is it a turn off? i’m scared that one day ill eventually almost have sex with somebody and they’ll be all like “eww, what the hell?” realistically i know that wouldn’t happen, but still, how silly is my worry? would anyone even care that i have it?

i have the option to get surgery to remove it, but there’s no guarantee it won’t just grow back. i don’t wanna waste the money and all the time recovering if other people don’t even give a damn.

thank you

Oh lovely, I actually did some research on genital skin tags fairly recently because I was curious about them!

Anal skin tags are super duper common, so I'll just get that "is it weird" comment out of the way right now. Not weird, actually super normal.

As far as turning people off goes, I can only speak for myself and say it wouldn't turn me off. With how common it is there's a good chance it won't turn any partners off either. BUT This is why it's healthy to have a conversation about sex before having sex with someone!

Skin tags are nothing to be ashamed of, but if it's something you're worried about just bring it up with your partner, "Hey I wanted to run something by you real quick" is a good way to start, and I have a feeling anyone you tell will probably go "Can I see it?" which you can do what you want with, but will probably lead to sex if the answer is "yeah sure."

There are always assholes that care too much about how your body looks, but if someone does give you shit for it then they're not worth your time. If it's not giving you problems and is only a cosmetic issue then whether or not to remove it is entirely up to your personal comfort.

Truly my advice is to not count yourself out until it becomes a problem, and to not listen to anyone that finds cosmetic issue with it. Your body is your own, and no one else should tell you what to do with it. They're lucky to be having sex with you, remember that.

[auspicioustidings]

Soap, Gaz, you two better be advocating for keeeeping reader!! I eat your writing like the gods eats ambrosia. But one thing I love about The Kennel, and some of your other Kinktober posts, is that they are quite fitting for the horror genre if you choose to look at them as horror.

Like, The Kennel could be a true horror story if you were down on your luck in your career, trusted a higher up that there was an opportunity to improve things, and then that higher up handed over to literal war criminals to relieve their stress sexually for 30 days. And the psychological conflict of being roughened up and slightly scared of the soldiers, but also succumbing to Stockholm Syndrome when they give you the smallest bit of affection or care (because that smallest bit is literally all their traumatized selves can fork over right now). AND THEN the possibility that they ganged together and are conspiring to keep you beyond the 30 days, whether you are willing are not. I don’t know, I just feel like you would write a astounding psychological horror.

Have you ever considered authoring fictional novels?

I have a horror masterlist and I'd say the closest I've gotten to psychological horror is either Eyes of God or No Second Location! It's one of those genres I really love and want to learn to write well, and there is def an element to the Kennel that leans into both the horror of what war does to people and the horror of realising you might be one of the monsters war has made. Like I think I have alluded to it here and there but the reader character is special forces and had done some awful shit as part of her job.

In terms of original fiction, I'm toying with writing a dumb omegaverse novel. If I ever finished it, it would very much be a kindle unlimited type thing. I don't think I could ever write anything technically "good", I did an English lit degree and nothing kills your desire to ever read or write anything original with in depth themes and symbolism more than doing an English lit degree 🙃