#angst feeds my soul

[leos-loser-moments]

heheheh guess whos writing something based on this for their main blog...

or at least finished LMAO

I asked a similar question on STNAF recently, and I got to wondering...

Say someone downright murdered CM...

What happens when Harper catches the stupid, doomed person that did it? :)

TW: BLOOD GORE VIOLENCE DEATH SUICIDE

[wade-winston-wilson]

[mythandmagic]

please Please PLEASE everyone go read Like Every Tree Stands on Its Own by @mightybog it is phenomenal and has deliciously altered my brain chemistry. AND there's a sequel in the works which is sure to be just as marvelous and heartwrenching and beautiful as the first.

Seriously, I have been rotating this story for days, even made some picrews about it (courtesy of ElenaA's Kiss Crew, beloved).

Anyway, please go read and kudos and comment and show her some love because she deserves it.

[graysparrowao3]

WIP/Snippet Tag Game

Thank you so much @forget-me-maybe and @redroomroaving for the tags.

I was getting pulled back to Rolan, Cal, and Lia, but then I listened to Only Love Can Hurt Like This by Paloma Faith and the urge to do something terrible to Rugan and Aradin is strong.

Anyway. Can't remember if I ever shared this, but here's part of a WIP of me doing something terrible to Rolan, Cal, and Lia instead.

“Cal,” Rolan warned, “release me.” “Please, Rolan,” Cal’s cheeks were flush and damp, “I didn’t mean it. I know she always sounds like she does, but Lia didn’t mean it either.” “I command you to take your hands off me.” Rolan demanded, arms straining against Cal’s grasp on him, the desperateness of an embrace they’d never shared. “I know you didn’t mean it either, Rolan.” Cal gasped, “Any of it.” He held tightly onto Rolan’s robes, fabric almost tearing between his fingers. “Cal,” Rolan’s voice was sharp, broken, his fingers twitched, unwilling, “let go of me.” Cal watched the arcane energy crackle between Rolan’s hands and his chest. “It’s okay, Rolan,” Cal said, holding tighter, tears unashamed on his cheeks, “I know you don’t mean it.” He would always swear that in that moment he saw something in his big brother’s eyes. A raw horror howling in unheard resistance, violent agony of a soul violated, inconsolable. The spell unleashed. “Detono!”

No pressure tags should you like to share @astariondelulu @holyblackspear @my-favourite-zhent @orangekittyenergy @ladyofcrowsandcoffee

[justoneday-namjoonii]

It burns, doesn’t it? [Pt. 23] The Kiss of Death

genre/au: mafia!au, mature, fluff, angst, love triangle 

warnings: mature, mafia activity, illegal business activity, non-graphic sexual content, brief violence, toxic relationships, mentions of drugs, smoking, character d*ath, language, suggestive language, an attempt at a slow burn. If you’re easily triggered, please proceed with caution or do not proceed♥️

pairing: jungkook x reader ; yoongi x reader 

word count: 7k +

authors note: see m.list (pinned post) for other parts! enjoy <3 will edit later probably lol

summary: The mafia tore your life apart, if it wasn’t for your will to live, it would have taken you out a long time ago. After everything, the heartbreak, betrayal and lies, you’ve emerged with a purpose—you’re apart of a family now. They won’t let you lay down and die—no matter how much you want to.

Blood soaked the antique area rug. 

The meeting was long overdue, the high-ranking capos were looking for answers after the commotion died down. The discussion took place in the old lavish board room, his father used to have it polished and cleaned like clockwork.

At some point in the discussion, Jin came up. He always comes up.

“He’s got his own business going on in that old territory, my men don’t touch it, it used to be a hotspot too,” The capo said, a cigar between his fingers, “did they tell you, boss?”

“I figured as much,” Yoongi replies, “that’s a small loss in the grand scheme of things.”

“We don’t want it back?” Jimin speaks up, and Hoseok looks over at him.

“No,” Yoongi said plainly.

“What about our shipping docks? I think they’ve been sneaking around over there.”

“I want to get most of our product here by a private shipping company overseas,” Hoseok says, “Akane has a few options for us.”

“Boss,” Ryan, a trusted capo looked up from his phone, “Jungkook’s been released, our mole just sent the court ruling to me.”

“Hm, I wonder how he managed that,” Yoongi tilts his head in thought, “get some details and let me know.”

“That motherfucker,” Hoseok makes a low comment to Yoongi personally, “I don’t know who the fuck used their pull to save him.” 

“I don’t think we need to worry about him right now, whoever’s supporting him isn’t flashy.”

Hoseok scoffs, he has developed a strong disdain for Jungkook. Hell, he was happy when he was in prison, life seemed simpler.

“Sai,” Yoongi called the one who seemed to fidget constantly.

“Sir?” He peered up at Yoongi, and instantly lost a bit of light in his eyes.

“Are you fucking using? You haven’t been able to sit still since you walked in here,” Yoongi stood from his chair, calmly approaching the man while the others watched, “it’s distracting,”

“S- sorry boss, I guess it’s just been a while since I’ve seen you,�� He laughs, swallowing his nerves. 

“Cigarette?” 

Yoongi offers it with a cold tone, not getting one for himself. 

The man’s eyes widen at the gesture--he knew what it meant. Yoongi takes a seat in front of him and grabs the cigarette, the man assumes he’s meant to take it.

“No please,” He takes it between his lips and takes out his silver lighter, letting the flame dance to it, “allow me.” He takes a puff with closed eyes and blows the smoke into the man's face with a deep sigh.

“Here,” He pushes it in between the man's pursed lips, “this is the good stuff,” 

Tension hung in the air as the room fell silent. The men looked everywhere but the scene before them, they knew they were amid a farewell.

In this world, you can be punished for many things. But the most heinous of them all? Betrayal. You pay for that with your life. Yoongi grappled with that for a long time. He believed that some people were redeemable, worth a second chance, and deserving of mercy. He really used to believe that.

Yoongi rose from his seat once the cigarette was finished. “How was it?”

Sai pleaded for mercy, for the ruthless leader to spare some compassion. Yoongi simply leaned down, offering a gentle caress to his cheek in all his begging. “You know what you did, you knew this had to happen.”

“But- But you let that fucker walk Scott free, for years! He betrayed all of us but you wouldn’t let Joon touch him! You’re a hypocrite if you do this to me! You played dirty, getting his fucking little sister, how can you honor the code now? Betrayal punishable by death- What about ‘family is off-limits’ You did that shit!”

He had a point.

But alas, he and his chair crash to the ground by an abrupt contact of a fist in his face. One of the guards rushes over to hold him down and Yoongi gets down, eye-to-eye.

All that time when Jin was plotting his rise to power, not caring what bystanders suffered in his wake. Yoongi watched it happen. That was on him. As the boss, he was upholding a standard that even he made exceptions to. 

“Those your last words?”

A string of curses fell on deaf ears.

In that moment, all traces of his father, that he spent so much of his life running from came rushing into him like they had never left. It was hard to watch, even for the senior capos who had witnessed tradition unfold many times before. But to see Yoongi heartless, and brutal, was a reminder. He is capable of even the most despicable acts, it comes with the job. The sound of gunshots rang throughout the room, too many times.

“Consider this an act of repentance,” Yoongi stands to his feet, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe his bloody fingers. “have this cleaned up before the dinner,” 

Once Yoongi is out of sight, Hoseok can’t hide his disgust for the blood splatter over the floor. “Ugh, did he have to be so goddamn messy?” He muttered. “I haven’t had to call in the cleaners in a while.”

“I didn’t realize he would still…” Jimin speaks up from the chair, where he had been frozen for the entire act. "Do it."

“Yeah, to be honest,” Hoseok dials a number, “neither did I,”

Yoongi’s quick exit from the scene was all so he could get somewhere private and try not to vomit. 

“Fuck,” He unbuttoned a bit of his collar shirt and leaned against the sink to steady himself. When his eyes met the mirror, he looked away just as quickly. His disdain didn’t come from the blood on his hands, but the man in his reflection. 

.━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

“Is this too much?”

You stepped out of the dressing room in he third sundress, one a bit out of your comfort zone. It had bright colors and a flattering mermaid shape, something out of a fantasy novel at first glance. But Yaerim insisted, she said it was ‘trendy’ right now, and everyone should have one.

“It’s perfect! Not enough if you ask me,”

These days, you and Yaerim go out almost every day. Ayeong will ask you where you’d like to go if you want some new clothes or want to take up a hobby. At first, she claimed Yoongi had nothing to do with the unlimited shopping sprees, the drivers at your beck and call, but you knew the truth. You just let everyone think you were clueless. Shopping isn’t free, it’s definitely coming out of his pocket.

Over the past couple of weeks, Yoongi hasn’t wanted anyone at the estate during the day. Ayeong mentioned the risks of having meetings with different people going in and out, anyone could connect the dots and make your whereabouts public knowledge.

“Alright, if you say so,” 

With a shrug, you swipe the AMEX again, and again, and once more just for good measure. You buy a few things for Yaerim, you even get something for your aunt, something you thought she’d like. 

Just when you thought you couldn’t buy another thing, you pass a pet store. 

“Oh my goodness,” You gasped, “Yaerim, look at that kitten, isn’t it precious?”

In the window, the gray and white kitten naps peacefully against the glass. 

“Let’s go see! Oh my gosh, I’ve always wanted a cat, you should get her Y/n- oh, I don’t know if the boss likes animals, you think he would?”

“Who wouldn’t love that adorable face?” 

Now, along with a bag full of clothes and a couple of knickknacks, you have a kitten and everything you need to take care of her.

When Sal comes to pick you up, you show him your new prize possession. He smiles brightly and laughs, it’s been a while since he’s served someone so pleased by the little things in life.

Both you and Yaerim nap on the way back. Sal said no one needs to be home until 6, so you had no choice but to shop all day, you thought to yourself.

“Miss, I’ll take your bags up.” 

One of the faithful staff ushers you inside, not giving you a chance to get the bags yourself. This time you oblige, but you hold your kitten close in her carrier. Yaerim went to the laundry room to finish her shift, while you went upstairs to get your new companion acclimated.

“What should I call you?” You gently take her from the carrier and hold her in your hands. “How about Poppy? Do you like that?” She gives you a sleepy blink and you take it as a yes.

When you walked in, you couldn’t help but notice the cleaning van outside and the sound of a high-powered vacuum. It never pays to pry into their affairs, but to deny your curiosity is painstaking.

“Miss,” Ana appears in your doorway, “you should start getting ready for tonight,”

“What’s happening tonight?” 

“He didn’t tell you? The family dinner is tonight at the Min family restaurant,” She looks you up and down, “It’s formal, so I’ll help you get ready.”

“But I just got this kitten, I should probably stay and-”

“Yearim will take care of that, Min insists that you attend. It’s mandatory.” 

“Alright,”

With only an hour or so to get ready, you run through the shower, and all the while, you wonder what this dinner will be like. And why he wants you to attend. When you step out in your robe, you see a black dress and multiple sets of jewelry on the bed.

“Do you like this? Min said to put you in something that suited you best since it’s a special occasion.”

“This is beautiful…” You pick up the dress, “gorgeous, where’d it come from?”

“The vault, he said to bring it all so you could choose whatever you’d like,” She grins to herself, “he was adamant about letting you choose.”

“Oh, wow,” You begin to open up the jewlery boxes, “this is a lot, I’ll choose once I get dressed.”

“Alright, the car is out front when you’re ready,”

When you do get dressed, you’re brought back to those couple of nights in Japan. They dressed you up like a dime piece only for you to sit around quietly and obediently. Jungkook revealed a lot of himself, he gave background on why he lived the way he did. You did’t look back at that trip fondly anymore, it reminded you of how scared you were, how helpless. Now it’s different. Even though this isn’t optional, you’re still being forced to go to an event that has no personal ties to you, you don’t want to test Yoongi’s grace for you. Not yet.

“Knock knock,” The knock is accompanied by a sing-song voice, “It’s me,” You open the door and let Yaerim in, “I heard I’m taking the kitten for the night! Y/n, you look so nice,”

“Thank you,” You scrunch your nose at the compliment, “I don’t know why he wants me to wear this, and all this jewelry,”

“Well,” She begins, petting Poppy as she naps, “I heard some of the staff talking…”

“Yeah? What were they saying…” You put your earrings on, one by one. 

“He’s never brought a date to one of these before, it’s an important dinner, super traditional,”

“Really?” You look in the mirror, loving how Ana did your hair. “That’s interesting…”

When Yaerim puts your necklace on as a finishing touch, you step out of the room. The guard that had been waiting for you outside the door takes your hand and escorts you downstairs. Faithful Sal is waiting for you at the door, he gives you an endearing smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I take too long?” 

“Not at all,” He opens the door and helps you inside the car, “you look lovely.,”

“Wait!” All of a sudden, Ayeong is running up the stairs to meet you.

“Ayeong?” You gasp when she fully embraces you. “Oh, are you alright?” 

“I’m- I’m fine,” she says in the crook of your neck, “I’m just about to get off and I haven’t seen you since breakfast, so I just wanted to give you a hug,” She smiles, and you swore you saw her fighting back tears. “I guess I just, I missed it all sweetheart.”

“Oh, I missed you too,” You smiled brightly, “I’m running a bit late, so I’ll see you in the morning, alright?” 

“Okay, you have a goodnight Y/n, enjoy yourself!” 

As the sleek black car glided through the city streets, your mind swirled with thoughts.

The evening air was crisp, filtering through the cracked window, carrying the faint scent of distant street vendors and the hum of urban life. The city lights painted streaks of gold and amber against the darkening sky, casting an enchanting glow upon the streets below.

Glancing at your reflection in the window, you adjusted the delicate necklace Ana had chosen for you, its shimmering diamonds catching the soft glow of the passing streetlights. In the front seat, Sal wore a calm expression, his hands steady on the wheel as he navigated through the bustling traffic with ease.

Along with your nerves, underlying tension hung heavy in the air. You couldn't shake the feeling of unease, knowing that this dinner was more significant than the other events you'd attended.

As the car turned onto a quieter street, the towering skyscrapers gave way to elegant townhouses and cobblestone pathways. The road exuded an air of exclusivity, with ornate wrought-iron gates guarding the entrance to each luxurious estate.

As you approached the restaurant, a historical building adorned with delicate stone carvings and overgrown ivy, a sense of apprehension washed over you. 

But then you see Yoongi, walking in with the original entourage. Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung all follow Yoongi as he steps out of the car, each of them in perfectly tailored suits.

As the car came to a stop, Sal turned to face you, his expression unreadable. "We've arrived, miss," he announced, his voice tinged with a hint of concern.

Taking a deep breath, you gathered your composure. With a nod of gratitude to Sal, he helps you out of the car and Yoongi sees you from a mile away.

“Check her out,” Ryan nudges Jimin, “she cleans up nice,”

“I know,” He walkd over, assuming he’s on ‘Y/N duty’. But Yoongi tells all of them to head inside without him, and Jimin is left pondering thoughts over that.

That leaves you standing on the curb, waiting for the others to walk in. When the last member walked inside , he finally gave you his full attention. He eyes you like he wants to say something about your appearance, but he keeps it to himself for now.

“Stay with me tonight, okay? Don’t wander off with anyone,”

You nodded. Normally, you would inquire about his reasoning, but tonight, he seems a bit off, like one wrong word and you’re history.

Once you walked into the restaurant, you saw so many familiar faces. Some of these people worked at Namjoon’s base, particularly the women. Some you had seen working with Jungkook on those many nights out, making runs around the city. 

The night went on like a true family dinner. 

There was an undeniable buzz in the atmosphere, it was contagious. Laughing, and chatting about the past and the present. As you looked over the room, even the most stoic men were smiling at each other, enjoying the endless champagne and Hors d'oeuvres. Hoseok and Taehyung seemed to have mended the underlying strife between them, even for tonight. Jimin on the other hand seemed less than interested for the first half, but a couple of old fashions changed that.

Now it’s evident why is so important. 

It’s a time and place where the true colors of the mafia come to light. In the day-to-day, where crime and violence monopolize their time, they need gatherings like this to unify their spirits. To remind them that this is family, this is what they traded their souls for. 

Suddenly, you feel a warmth on your thigh. You glance over and see Yoongi’s free hand resting just above your knee, and he continues his conversation casually. 

The more you think about it, the less his request for you to join him makes sense. Why did he want you here? Nothing to say, you’re only here for arm candy and the wondering eye to gawk over. You can’t help but wonder if that was his intention, to show you off. 

“I’d like to make a toast,” 

A hush takes over the room in seconds. All eyes are on the respected leader. His hand leaves you when he stands up, stem glass in hand. 

“To Kim Namjoon,” He holds the glass high, and the room follows suit, including yourself. “May he rest in peace.”

The room followed his every command like a cult of loyal subjects, eager to please their king. 

When he got up, he said he’ll be right back. You thought, does he think you’re just gonna sit here? He should know you well enough by now, to know you don’t like to sit still for too long. 

“Hi,”

You look up at a towering figure in front of you.

“Hi,” You reply.

“I’m Jooyoung, I don’t know if you remember me but I remember you,” He gets cozy beside you, “you used to be the talk of the town, you know that?”

“I know,” You grit your teeth at that thought.

“It’s died down now, no one wants to get in hot water with the boss, he’s back to his old ways,” He sips from his nearly empty glass, “but I’m glad to see you’re doing well, really,”

“Uh, thanks,” You pause, finally processing his statement, “What do you mean his old ways?”

Just as he opens his mouth to answer, Yoongi begins to make his way back and he gets out of potential harm's way. 

“You okay?” Yoongi rests a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m fine,” You nodded.

“How’s the food?” He stayed hovering over you, gaze lingering on you longer than you expected.

“It’s- it’s good,” You peer up at him, his expression hard to read. It’s something in between curious and slightly agitated.

“Do you want another drink?” 

“I haven’t even finished this one-“

“I need another drink.” 

You follow behind him to the bar where he orders a shot of something dark and what he called, ‘an Irish bomb. You’re taken aback when you realize both were for him when he’s already throwing back the second one.

“Anything for you, miss?” The bartender smiles kindly.

“Oh um, I’ll have the shot he had,” You say, innocent of what was in those glasses. The bartender quickly, and as soon as you get a whiff, you regret your decision. Despite your displeasure: you down it anyway. Within seconds, you cough after the burn of it going down. 

“Ugh, that was bad,” You cringe, unable to hide your disgusted expression. Yoongi’s eyes linger on you momentarily and he flashes a knowing smile inwardly. With a firm touch at the small of your back, he leans closer to whisper in your ear. “How do you drink this stuff?”

“Come with me,”

You blink, “Oh, ok…” You exchange glances with the bartender who looks away. He grabs your arm and whisks you out of the restaurant's main haul and into a private room, likely meant for administrative purposes.

As soon as the door shuts behind him, he lets his guard down and relaxes. You observe quietly, folding your arms around yourself, as he takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over the office chair

“I meant to tell you about tonight,” He explains unprompted, “I’ve just been caught up,”

“Why did you want me to come?”

“I thought you’d enjoy a night out,” He walks up to you,“you don’t like it?” 

“You didn’t exactly give me a choice; the staff said I had to come.” You cross your arms.

“Do you like the dress?” He intentionally gets in your space, making you to take a step back.

You scoff, glancing down at the gown. “Why? did you pick it out?”

He gives you a sly smile that you take it as a yes. 

“It’s nice,” You feign being unimpressed, “but if you brought me here just to be an accessory, you could have just said that.” He steps forward, backing you against the wall

“Is that what you think this is?” He snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“Yeah,” You nod, “what else could it be? You want me to stay with you, not talk to anyone? I could have stayed back,” 

“No, that’s not,” He sighs, taking in how dolled up you are and how this could probably be the least interesting thing you’ve done this week. “Honestly, I wanted to be around you tonight, I had a rough day,”

You feel a blush rise to your cheeks, still not used to hearing things like that from him still not accustomed to hearing such sentiments from his mouth. 

Over the past few weeks, the space between you and Yoongi has become smaller. 

He steps forward, hands resting on your waist so he could kiss you. And just like that, you two stay quiet while indulging in your little secret. He cradles the back of your head, presenting the right angle as he searches for the perfect blend of softness and firm. He always sets the perfect pace, and you feel yourself become pliable like water, spilling through his fingers.

“I've been waiting all day for this," he murmurs, his lips lingering close to yours, reluctant to pull away. "We should get out of here; get some privacy," he adds, his tone betraying his reluctance to stop kissing you.

“You’re the boss, don’t you have to stay?”

“I’m the boss,” he smirks, “I can do whatever I want.”

True to his word, he called a car and you two snuck out through the back. He helped you into the vehicle, ensuring you were secure before getting in himself. He tells the driver a location unknown to you. Once it's confirmed that you're en route, Yoongi lowers the privacy screen, continuing to kiss you, as if he had been anxious to do so.

He picks you up to sit you across his lap, eliciting a gasp of utter shock from you. It makes him giggle, the way you react to him as if this were all new to you. 

When he finally pulls away from your lips, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. "You smell good, new perfume?" he murmurs between kisses on your chest, leaving damp imprints on your skin.

“Y- yeah.”

 "It’s nice," He's feeling the effects of those drinks now because he’s tempted to say anything that comes to mind.

“Are- are you okay?” You manage to pull away, looking into his half-lidded eyes and noticing the red glow on his cheeks. He stares back at you, taking in your flustered expression and rosy cheeks.

“I will be,” He deadpans, breathing in and out.

“But where-” You pull away again and Yoongi huffs in frustration,  “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere we can be alone, is that okay with you?” You nod, unsure if that's what you mean or if you’re afraid to say no.

“That’s- that’s okay with me…”

Unbeknownst to you, he made a hotel reservation just for the two of you. He planned to get you out of the house to bail on the oh-so-important family dinner. You would have never guessed that this was his cover-up plan. The thought alone made you feel all sorts of things—excited, anxious, confused. The idea that he wanted to be with you like this, so much so that he carved out a time and place just for you.

“I couldn’t be in that damn house tonight,” He said in the elevator, his hand resting in the small of your back, “My day has been too damn long just to have to sneak around for this,”

“This?" you questioned, urging him to expound. 

"You," he flashed a snarky smile. "Sneaking around at all hours of the night, in my own home? I’m pretty sure some staff are starting to catch on."

“I hope not,” You scrunch your nose at the thought. Ayeong seemed to have a chipper demeanor whenever you found yourself close to the mafia boss. 

"Do you think anyone is suspicious about us leaving together?" you asked, your curiosity veiled with unease.

"I’m sure," he answered honestly.

Eventually, you made it to the hotel room and everything was so grand and expensive. The bed seemed to have no end with pristine white linen, the bathroom was equipped with a large tub and walk-in shower. Yoongi discarded his jacket for the second time that night and gestured for you to sit wherever you’d like. You chose the chair near the French doors to the balcony, hands pressed to your lap. In Yoongi fashion, he had already ordered his alcohol of choice to the room and he went right for it.

"Are you trying to get drunk?" you asked the obvious question. 

"No," he took another shot. "just trying to unwind." With a chuckle, he stalked over and kneeled in front of you. "How was your day, by the way?"

You sat tensed, eyes darting from your feet to his face. He lifted your ankle to rest on his knee so he could remove your heels. He meticulously unbuckled the straps, one hand under your ankle while the other worked on the clasp. When you failed to reply, he asked again. 

"Well, how was it?"

"It was fine, I did a little shopping with Yearim," you swallowed, watching his fingertips linger on your skin despite your heels being long gone. "nothing too crazy."

He paused, staring up at you as if he was truly interested. He couldn’t be, he had to be humoring you. "You do a lot of shopping,”

"Yeah, is that okay?“ You laughed nervously. 

"It’s fine," he placed his palms on your knees. "No one else is using all this money, you seem to make good use of it, so I don’t mind."

"You're really, um," you paused, searching for the right word, "talkative."

"Yeah? I suppose I am, just trying to fill your awkward silence since you're so tense," he said softly, meeting your gaze with a glimmer of desire in his eyes. “You want another drink? To take the edge off,” 

You nod. “Sure…”

━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

“Sir, I lost all contact with him,” The agent paces in her office, “last time we spoke, we were supposed to arrange a meeting place for handoff tonight, I was sure we had this!-”

“You’re dealing with a criminal, Agent Ban. This may take longer than you think, I told you this wouldn’t be easy.”

“Okay, then what should I do now?”

“Get creative, that’s all you can do.”

━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

“Oh my God, they’re not letting this go.” 

Henry read through the contract for the second time, attempting to understand how she managed to file a lawsuit against the family. Melinda was not backing down. You won’t be snubbed out of the will, not if she can help it. And Jin, for some odd reason, seems to care about your claim to the fortune.

“We need to get the authorities involved in this,” He closed up the envelope the severance was packaged in, “if she is missing or dead, there’s no sense in waiting around for her to turn up, we need to close this up.”

Jin made a mental note—your maternal family members are all stuck-up pricks, no surprise your mother eloped. As a form of making amends with some of his only flesh and blood, he’s decided to support Melinda in this battle. He has the power he’s always wanted, and a bit more even. His only wish now is that he can safely hide away his flesh and blood like his father once had.

Today though, he’s off to address a burning question of his. How did Jungkook get out? 

Wei arrived with no information to report. All they know is that Jungkook left the courtroom a free man.

“Jin,” Melinda sits across from Jin at the upscale brunch spot, sipping a mimosa, “be honest, why did she choose not to come with you?”

“We weren’t on good terms, and a few people made it pretty difficult for me.”

“Can you find a way for me to talk to her?” She questions.

“Last night, there was an annual event within the organization,” He paused, “I had eyes in there, they saw her there, dressed up like a legitimate member. But I’ll have to see what I can do about contacting her,”

“So they make her attend events,” She shook her head in disbelief, “like a damn show pony.”

“She may have a choice.” 

“Jin, do you know anything about your sister? You talk about her like-“

Suddenly, she gets an unknown call on her phone. Jin takes a glance from past glass.

“Who’s that?”

 “Not sure,” She let it buzz a couple of times, before bringing it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Melinda West?”

“It is,” She glanced up at Jin with furrowed brows, “who is this?” 

“My name is Lisa Ban, I'm an agent with the FBI and I’ve been working on your niece's case for a few months now.” 

Melinda gasps, this is the first she’s heard of any law enforcement giving a damn about you. She puts the phone on speaker, giving Jin a look to start listening in.

“Why is this the first time I’m hearing from you? It’s been over a year since she was abducted.”

“I know Ms. West, and for that I’m so sorry. But the oversight of her case came from the sheer size of the organization she’s involved with. At first, she was a potential accomplice until I did some further digging. Now I’m using all of my resources to find her.”

Melinda lets out an exasperated sigh. “So why are you contacting me now?”

“Last night, the mafia boss who is holding her captive agreed to meet me and give her over-“

“You have her?!”

“No, not exactly. The meeting fell through, we had been contacting each other for weeks and confirmed that he would let her go. Last night he was supposed to give me a location to meet him early this morning, but he never did. In fact, he blocked my number and he likely used a burner phone, so I’m at square one.”

“Okay, what do you plan to do now?”

“I can’t say too much right, I want to meet you. I know it’s short notice, but can you meet me at Le Blanc Bistro at 7 tonight? Then, I can detail the entire case to you and maybe we can help each other.”

“Um,” Melinda looks to Jin who mouths for her to say yes, “Okay, yes, I’ll see you tonight.”

“Thank you, Ms. West. Take care.”

“When you go, don’t mention me but get as much information as you can,” Jin advises

━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

You thought this was all just to soothe the stress; that loomed over your head like a dark cloud. But when his voice broke against your neck, eyes focused but half-lidded in ecstasy, his grip tightenuntil his knuckles turned white. You had a front-row seat to his raw humanity, his soul bared in front of you.

When you opened your mouth to say something, you were silenced by a kiss. And it was his, not so subtle, way of telling you to shut up. But suddenly, you tasted something salty and warm hit your tongue—tears? That’s when you yanked your head away and touched your lips, to his displeasure.

"Y- Yoongi," you stalled all movement and his eyes shot open in surprise. "Are you okay?"

“Shit, Y/N,”  he cursed, trying to keep the moment from shattering. “Why are you stopping to ask me that? I’m doing fucking terrific, aren’t you?” He was exasperated, sweat beading on his furrowed brows. You inspected his face with concern, not saying a word.

“What’s wrong?” he touched his cheek to feel the warm liquid.

“Fuck, fuck,” he combed his hair back and took a moment to catch his breath. You tried to move away but he pulled you back, holding you so you couldn’t move not an inch.

“No, no, don’t,” he took both your hands and kissed them. “I’ve had a few too many, that’s all, it feels so good you brought me to tears,” He flashed a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m fine, please.. don’t stop.”

He’d never sounded like this before, so desperate. You chose continue as he watched intently, tonguing at his lips, taking it all in. And at some point, he ascended, went somewhere else, and dragged you there.

Once things settled, you lay on his chest and he resisted the temptation to smoke a cigarette, settling for combing a hand through your hair, delicately pinching the strands between his fingers. You peeked over at the gun on his nightstand; all these mafia boys were the same in the bedroom, vulnerable for a moment but forever guarded.

“Today, I had to do something I haven’t done in years,” he sighed, his voice rumbling in his chest under your ear. “And that shit has been haunting me, all fucking day…”

You glanced up at him, heart aching at his admission. “I’m sorry… what did you have to do?”

His sweet caresses came to a halt. It took him a while to open up, to say more than a couple of sentences. He felt a conflict; while he wanted to reveal his thoughts and feelings to you, he didn’t want you cursed with those images.

“I don’t want you to worry about that,” He pressed his lips to your brow, his breath warm and soothing, “I shouldn’t have to do it again for a long time.”

Little did he know, you saw the cleaning company come into the house…does what he did have anything to do with that? You choose not to pry despite your painful curiosity. Silence hung in the air for a good minute.

“Well,” you grappled for something to lighten the mood, “I bought a kitten today.”

He furrowed his brows, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, her name is Poppy, she’s cute,” you sat up on his chest, eyes brighter just at the mention of her. “Pretty quiet… from what I can tell.”

You sighed, absentmindedly tracing the tattoo peaking over his shoulder. In a moment like this, you can easily forget you’re an ex-prisoner, now a valuable collateral of the mafia. 

“That’s nice babe,” He groaned, eyes growing heavy with exhaustion, “now get some sleep, we have to get up early…”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He sighed, giving up on trying to get some shut-eye. “Go ahead,”

“What does your tattoo mean?” 

“I had to get branded when I joined the organization,” He answered plainly, “it’s a snake because my father had a code, the snake represents transformation. Snakes have to shed their skin to grow, to survive. If they don’t, they die.”

You continued tracing the intricate design, understanding dawning on you. “So, it’s about changing to survive?”

“It is,” he murmured, his voice a blend of bitterness and acceptance. “You have to shed who you are. The old you has to die so you can become who you need to be to survive in this world.”

“Wow, that's so symbolic,” You reply, “it’s big, it must have been painful…” You cooed, still tracing the small part you could see from his shoulder. “Was it?”

“It was,” He hums, “the healing process was the worst part, I couldn't lay on my back for weeks…” He took your hand, leading it to rest on his chest, where his heart beat steadily beneath your palm. “Now that I’ve answered your question, can we please go to sleep?”

“Yoongi…” You pursed your lips, feeling a surge of vulnerability. “How do you feel about me?...”

“Y/N, for the love of God,” His eyes flutter open, “let’s not get into that.”

“Why? Just tell me or I’m gonna think you hate me, that you’re just using me.” 

“I don’t hate you, and I’m not using you,” He yawns, his guard slipping, “trust me.”

“So it’s just the sex then,” You conclude, half-joking but very much serious, “you keep me around for that, is that all it is?”

“Oh, stop. If that’s all it was,” Yoongi sat up, causing you to lift yourself and look at him wide-eyed, “rest assured, we would have been doing this a long time ago,” He brushed your cheek tenderly, “It’s a plus, but it’s not just the sex.”

“Oh,” You blushed, a small smile breaking through. “So it sounds like you’ve always been attracted to me then?”

“Are you on a vanity kick right now?” He pulls you into his lap, hands under your thighs, and the idea of sleep is long gone from his mind.

“Please tell me,” You comb through his hair, massaging his scalp, “when did you start to see me like this? Fine, I’ll go first,” You give an anxious smile, “after you were shot, I helped you clean your wounds and we talked, we had a real conversation…I thought about that a lot, we had so much more in common than I imagined and I realized you weren’t so bad, I started to like you…a lot.“

“Okay,” His hands glide up and down your sides, “you really wanna know?” You nod.

“When I first officially met you, you were a bratty kid obsessed with Jeon Jungkook,” He begins, “You were angry, scared of everything, impulsive, difficult to deal with, you couldn’t fight, still can’t-”

“Damn,” You scoff, "maybe I shouldn’t have asked-”

“I’m not done,” He playfully clasps his hand over your mouth, “you were all those things to me for a long time, and not only that but you were my best friend’s little sister.” He removes his hand, watching you bite your lips. “I had every reason not to want you…But I don’t know, I don’t have an exact time or moment when it started, maybe when you went batshit crazy at the auction and then kissed me in the bathroom,” He snickers at your growing blush, “you shouldn’t have done that, after that kiss I had a hard time getting you off my mind, I couldn’t even make any more excuses after that.”

“Really?” You swallow your nerves. “I’m flattered.”

“Yes really, and I see that you aren’t some kid…there’s so much to you, more than I realized. I take care of you because you are my responsibility, but it’s more than that, I like to take care of you, I like getting to know you, being with you…I wanted to have you, just like this.” 

“What does all of that mean?” You press further, trying to pry out three words.

He presses his forehead against yours, knowing what you’re getting at. “I care about you Y/n,” He brushes your hair away from your face, just, “so much,” He presses his face into the crook of your neck. “

“Y-Yoongi,” You whispered, cupping his face to bring him eye-to-eye, your heart pounding in your chest. “You said we had to get up early, you shouldn’t be kissing anyone if you’re trying to go to sleep.”

He breathed in, his heartstrings giving way to any prior plans or limits he had for himself.

“Change of plans,” He placed his hand over the one you had on his cheek, his eyes locking onto yours. He smirked, “We’re sleeping in.”

Some people are true to the very end. Their path may change, their words may falter, but they remain true to their nature. Jungkook is like that. Amidst shifting dynamics and the ebb and flow of bonds, he stands resolute. He had no regrets from the moment he pledged his soul to this life, severing ties with his blood and swearing allegiance to an organization that masqueraded as family.

He would do it again and again, and again.

When he got a phone call from a man claiming to be his uncle, he understood more why he chose the mafia. After the smoke clears, someone will come to your rescue when you least expect it. 

The phone call from his ‘uncle’.

“Namjoon left specific instructions, if anything were to happen to him, I’d treat you like my own, and that’s what I plan to do.”

The retired mafia kingpin sent all his resources and pulled every string to honor his son's wish.

So after a few weeks, when he appeared in court dressed in guilty orange, he didn’t so much as bat an eye. 

His new legal team rallied around him, professing him as innocent and wrongfully prosecuted on baseless claims. And the judge? Somehow seen unfit to rule over this case, was replaced by a rookie, just barely out of law school. It all fell into place.

Junghyun sat in the courtroom, watching his brother sit back comfortably. It was a misuse of justice, a real shitshow if you ask him. 

“The court rules, not guilty.”

The court was adjourned. Jungkook was uncuffed and Junghyun was the first to approach him.

“What the hell did you do to pull this off?” He stands almost eye-to-eye with Jungkook, and the smirk on his face says it all, he’s gotten away with murder.

Before Jungkook could answer, from the crowd his mother ran up and embraced him.

“Jungkook,” She squeezed her eyes shut, savoring the moment, “come home with us, please-”

“I’m sorry…” His expression saddened, “You know I can’t.” He, for the first time in years, looked at her with love in his eyes.

“Excuse me, Mr. Jeon, after you get changed, we have a car ready for you,” The man positioned at the back of the courtroom with a pressed suit and manicured appearance stands in waiting, “We should get going.”

He hugs her one last time, and she knows he’s saying he loves her. But he has to go, he had to make that choice when he was just a teenager and he has to make it now. Soon, he is checked out and escorted into a luxury vehicle with dark tints, and in the seat beside him lies the items he was booked with.

“Where am I going?” 

“Master Kim’s residence.”

He doesn’t typically get anxious, but his nerves are getting to him today. Even though he’s out in the real world, feeling the sun on his skin and seeing the trees blow in the wind and the birds fly in the sky—there’s this eerie feeling. How did he manage this type of luck? What does he have to do in return for his freedom? There’s always a catch.

A butler of sorts opens the doors and leads Jungkook inside, calling him Mr. Jeon. 

“Please, make yourself comfortable,”

He directs Jungkook to sit in the formal living room in the grand home, he remembers this well. Namjoon brought him here a few times when he was just a boy, he could just taste the silver spoon Namjoon had in his mouth. Privilege, wealth, power—Namjoon was born with it. He always admired that, he wanted to be like him, more than anything.

“I’m glad to see you made it out, Jungkook” 

The elder Kim entered the room, commanding Jungkook’s full attention with just the sound of his voice.

“Sir,” Out of respect, Jungkook gets down on his knees in a full bow, “I’m in debt to you, thank you… This wouldn’t have been possible if it weren’t for you,’ He stays, headed fully facing the ground, “I don’t deserve this.”

“Favor isn’t deserved my child, it’s simply given,” He stood above Jungkook with a look of his endearment, “Have a seat, please.”

Jungkook does as he’s told. When he’s sat upright, he finally sees the mob veteran’s striking resemblance to his late son. He only recalls seeing him a couple of times in photos, but never in person like this. 

“You know, my son spoke very fondly of you,” 

Jungkook peeks up, resembling a timid little kid.

“He said you didn’t grow up with a lot, but had more potential and grit than anyone he’d ever met,” He continues, “I taught him to choose his family and regard them above anyone else, that’s the key to success in our line of work, you look out for your own,” He paused to sip his tea, “that’s why I chose to help you.”

“But I don’t understand,” He said, brows furrowed, “your son was killed because of me-’”

“Years ago, Namjoon asked me to do one thing for him, and that was to take you into the family,” He said sincerely, “he knew that if anything ever happened to him, he had to take care of you, even in death,”

“He…He arranged this?”

“Of course,” He laughs, “you were his favorite.”

Jungkook's mind raced as he processed the elder Kim’s words. The weight of Namjoon’s loyalty and sacrifice bore down on him, mingling with the relief of his newfound freedom.

“His favorite?” Jungkook repeated, still struggling to grasp the gravity of it all.

“Yes,” the elder Kim confirmed, his eyes softening. “He saw something in you, something worth protecting. That’s why I’ve pulled all the strings to keep you safe. Namjoon’s death was a tragedy, but his trust in you was unwavering.”

Jungkook looked down, the guilt gnawing at him. “I never meant for him to die, I don’t even know how it happened…”

The elder Kim shook his head. “In this world, things like that happen, Jungkook. But remember, Namjoon chose you. Honor his memory by living up to that belief.”

A heavy silence settled between them, broken only by the quiet ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner. “How do I do that?”

“Get some rest,” the elder Kim said, standing up. “Tomorrow, we’ll discuss your next steps.”

As Jungkook was led to his temporary quarters, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the test of his character was looming around the corner. The room he entered was lavish, a stark contrast to the cell he slept in the night prior. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

He saw the same face, but he knew he couldn’t be the same person. Not anymore.

[deepspacenova]

hello! hm, i hope this doesn't come off as weird (if you're uncomfortable or just not in the headspace please delete this, it's completely fine!) may i ask for sylus x reader angst? like reader d getting unalived idk just something BRUTAL please i just NEED someone to make this man fall on his knees and legitimately cry 😭.

Hiii oh my goodness not at all! If anything I'm absolutely honored you'd trust lil ol' me with such a beautiful prompt and you're also my first prompt request so thank you for reaching out! I'd love to do more of these (if I don't fail miserably here and people are interested haha).

I'd already started on this right before Sylus' myth was announced and after learning their story, what I'd written just played so perfectly into it that I had to weave some of those elements in there!

Soooo here's Sylus-on-his-knees angst specially for you xx

[angstitty]

I was not doing particularly good in February 2023

Lowkey wanna read some of these again MUHAHA

[just-sp-in-inginthevoid]

Analyzing volume covers

Number 20 & 17 – Kakucho and Izana

Kakucho’s volume cover was inspired by his name (鶴蝶; Kaku-cho, crane – butterfly). Cranes symbolize longevity, luck/good fortune, good health, loyalty (/fidelity. They’re monogamous and usually mate for life), peace and wisdom in Japan. Cranes are believed to live a thousand years (note : ‘a thousand’ doesn’t necesseraly means 1,000 but rather ‘a lot’ – it can more than that. Same for the ‘a thousand’ kanji in Senju, Haruchiyo and Chifuyu) and in China they even symbolize immortality. It seems they are also related to gratitude/returning favors. Butterflies symbolize beauty, transformation, resilience too (all because of how catterpillar change into butterfly ; that they overcome harships). They are close to the idea of life and death as butterflies are believed to be spirits from the deads coming on earth for the last time in the form of a butterfly. Other symbolism they carry are good luck/fortune and prosperity, as well as happiness

There are also waves/a bit of water in the clothes design. This carries the meaning of renewal, cleansing, the flow of life, power/resilience and luck as well.

As I see it, Izana’s clothes have peonies and clouds patterns.

Peonies are seen as the king/queen of flowers and also symbolize honor, bravery, courage, good fortune, wealth and prosperity. Clouds symbolize hope, change and proximity with the gods

[scraemoo]

I cannot stand the thought of a team dying I can't I can't I can't I

[ratt-king]

For me? 🥹🥹

April is the Cruelest Month Whump Event 2025!

Here we are again! The second year of AitCM!

It's a good month to whump our favorite characters!

In AitCM, to complete, you only have to write 15 days, and the other fifteen days you read & rec a fic that fits one the prompts for the day. (Feel free to create and promote art pieces as well!)

This not only makes it easier to fit into a busy schedule, but it helps promote your favorite writers!

You are more than welcome, of course, to write all thirty days or rec all thirty days—or both—but that is not necessary to complete the challenge.

Join us in filling the world with spectacular whump stories!

Tag us in your stories, recs, and art!

Choose one or more of the prompts daily (or use an alt prompt) and get to work!

The minimum requirement is 100 words. It's not terribly strict. If 100 words seems too daunting, try to get as close as you can. There is no maximum word count, though.

Post your stories to our Ao3 collection:

Do your best and get to whumping!

Special thanks to Lynn(justanotherinterneruser) for helping put this together. <3

[adventuretfox]

I caved and downloaded tiktok, and now I’m fucked in the head and sick to my stomach

[st-fanfic-bookclub]

Comment resources

Receiving comments means so much to fic authors so we’d love to encourage people to leave more. But we appreciate that leaving comments can be a bit daunting or draining, especially on days when we are tired or already stressed. So here are a few resources to hopefully encourage us all to leave more and to make doing so easier.

Archive of Our Own floating comment boxes

There are a couple of versions of these out there and they can be helpful. They are browser extensions that allow you to keep the comment box on the screen whenever you like so that you can easily comment as you read, rather than getting to the end and panicking about what to say.

Here are two different versions:

AO3 Floating Comment Box by ScriptMouse

Floaty Review Box by ravenel ← I use this one and think it’s great - Squid 💕

Feed The Fandom Fest

Have you heard of the @feedthefandomfest bingo cards? Because if you’re participating in these, maybe one of the recs on this blog could be the perfect way to tick off a square on these cards. Or, if you’ve not started one yet, why not pick one to encourage yourself to comment more and have some fun while doing so?

Here are the different cards:

Original Card

For Beginners

Fluff Edition

Angst Edition

Smut Edition

Old Fic Edition

Billy Hargrove Edition

Or put your own together!

I’d also just recommend having a look through the Feed The Fandom Fest blog in general, it’s such a wonderful resource 💖

Additional AO3 Kudos

Here’s some images of additional kudos for when you’re longing to mash that button again but all it greets you with is that mocking red smiley face. These are complete with the html to easily put them in!

AO3 Random Nice Comments

This browser extension will give you a short, nice comment from a list at the press of a button. It may be useful for beginner commenters who want to say something nice but are unsure what.

Comment prompts

If you want to craft your own comments but are unsure what to say, here’s a few starting points:

What is the first thing that comes to mind when you think back on the fic? I’m sure the author would love to know

Who was your favourite character in the fic? 

Where are you reading the fic?

Speculate on what could happen after the end of the fic

How did you react emotionally? Did you laugh? Cry? Smile? Scream?

Or there’s the simple but ever loved:

Keyboard smash

String of emojis

‘Loved this!’

Here’s some more lists of prompts:

Good and easy comment ideas by ao3-shenanigans

Some more easy comment suggestions by ao3-shenanigans

Unhinged fic comment ideas by magpie-murder 

Our comment stickers

Here’s a few stickers we made to use in place of comments if you want to leave something but still don’t know what to type out yourself:

html for the above, in order:

<img src="https://i.postimg.cc/yYRJxJ8C/readforbookclub-sticker.png" alt="sticker with stars and text reading: I READ THIS FIC FOR FANFIC BOOK CLUB AND LOVED IT" width=45% />

<img src="https://i.postimg.cc/yxgDFxh9/greatwork-sticker.png" alt="sticker with stars and text reading: I ADORE THIS FIC GREAT WORK" width=45% />

<img src="https://i.postimg.cc/c12gd7Zc/howtheactualheck-sticker.png" alt="sticker with stars and text reading: HOW THE ACTUAL HECK IS THIS SO GOOD?" width=45% />

<img src="https://i.postimg.cc/V6HSrntm/amazingwriting-star-sticker.png" alt="star-shaped sticker with text reading: AMAZING WRITING!" width=45% />

<img src="https://i.postimg.cc/RZzWHMW6/screamingcryingthrowingup-star-sticker.png" alt="star-shaped sticker with text reading: SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP" width=45% />

<img src="https://i.postimg.cc/1XkfMSMd/mayiofferyoumyfirstborn-star-sticker.png" alt="star-shaped sticker with text reading: MAY I OFFER YOU MY FIRSTBORN? OR PERHAPS MY SOUL?" width=45% />

[jacesvelaryons]

Can you write something about Jacaerys velaryon x targaryen wife reader

Where she gives birth to a baby that looks like jace and it bothered alicent but they don't care? :3

Saving Face (Jacaerys Velaryon x Targtower!Reader)

(a/n): i’m sorry this request took over a year but my, what a great idea! i hope you like it

word count: 3.0k

summary: with what was supposed to be a happy moment in the new chapter of your family with jacaerys, only wounds linger when your mother is unhappy with your child's appearance.

warnings: slight angst, family tensions, complicated family relationships, implied incest (the targaryen way), not alicent hightower friendly

request status: OPEN

The joy of his newborn child is nearly eclipsed by the fear that his beloved would be called to face the same humiliation his mother endured upon his birth.

Even in distress, his beautiful wife still looked otherworldly silver hair spun in gold, and with her pale lavender eyes, he would not have that ginger sucker of joy to rob him from this life changing celebration. His relief that his beloved survived the precarious birth, worried about her lithe frame and the prostration it weighed on her during the pregnancy.

His little boy, his beloved son, a fragment of the other half of soul and his own. He is perfect, with his ten little toes and fingers, and he is all his.

Jacaerys is thankful his mother was in the birthing room with him and his wife, breaking protocol (as always) to be with the mother as she went into labour. Without her, he thinks he would’ve been hysterical and lost his mind without her guiding hand and comforting presence in seeing Y/N in distress.

“Where is my mother?” Y/N cradles the babe to her breast, as he suckled in his mother’s warmth and he feels his heart drop to his stomach as her face contorted in disappointment.

The child yearned for nourishment, and the midwives guided the young mother so she could feed the child with her milk.

The Dowager Queen remained unyielding even as her step-daughter arose as Queen, and she was still given some privileges even with her dispute with his mother. The marriage of Jacaerys and Y/N, her youngest daughter, was made as a desperate attempt to patch the two sides together and make peace as his mother sat on the Iron Throne.

Her mother attended the wedding, wearing a dark muted forest green that still appeared obsidian in certain angles, but the flame patterns could not be missed on her gown.

A mockery indeed as if she did not accept his mother’s ascendance to the throne and wanted her small rebellions in forms of cloth, he would not grant her the satisfaction of his reaction, for the sake of the realm and his wife, her daughter. It would be too scandalous to do so.

When his beloved was called abed, all pretense of dignity and calm collapsed underneath him. Whatever confident front he had broke apart as fear consumed him, sweat dripping from his forehead, hands shaking, heart beating wildly as he realized his wife was to cross the barrier between life and death to birth their child.

Seeing Y/N’s clean white robes stained the bed in scarlet as she quickens and the pain increases as the babe nears reminds him of the chills whenever he walks the path from the princess’ chambers to the queen’s, the same path forged in blood when his mother then Princess Rhaenyra, the crown princess and heir to the Throne, had to face the humiliation called upon by her stepmother, now Queen Dowager Alicent.

His blood boils when he sees the auburn former queen walk that path meekly nowadays on her way to see her daughter, as if it was all an act when she had pulled rank and caused so much suffering to his beloved mother. Jacaerys fears his wife, now the Princess of Dragonstone will have to walk those same halls, perform the same walk of shame and mummery with all the courtiers of the Keep to bear witness.

There is no possibility he will allow her to endure the same, he would bring fire and blood to all of Westeros shall she have to face that, yet it brings him relief when he reminds himself that woman is no longer Queen but his mother is, Queen of her own right and first of her name, and yet all the same, that woman is also his mother-in-law, mother to his darling. And grandmother to the child that shares his blood.

Jacaerys never left the side of his wife even when her birth continued onto the hour of the wolf, his hands intertwined with her own, assuring kisses on her temple and cheek and encouraging her when she would cry she wanted to relent. Across from him stood his mother, whose locks resembled her half sister and his wife, an experienced mother who has felt such joy and such sorrow too, with a maternal comfort gained with experience.

He would not allow a woman filled with hate to the brim in her heart to rob him of the joys of fatherhood and the relief of his wife safe and sound after such birth to their babe. Jace felt relief like no other when he began to see the dark haired head of the child crowning, and the guttural, final scream she exerted as the child exited her womb.

Jacaerys comforted and whispered assurances of gratitude and encouragement to his lady wife, that she be reminded how grateful he was of her efforts to grow their family, of her devotion and love for him, and fulfilling her duty with nothing but grace, peppering kisses all over her flushed face.

As he caressed the fine hair of his child much like own while he fed from his mother’s breast, his elated expression dropped as if in a chilling reminder when she asked for her mother. As despicable as that woman was, he could not deny her wishes if it brought her reprieve. Jace smiled and promised her that she would be coming and has been informed of the birth of her new grandchild.

When Y/N was beyond earshot, he approached the young midwife with a hardened gait, grinding through his teeth. “If the Dowager Queen wishes to see the prince, she will make her way here herself. She can walk, can she not?!"

While his wife was preoccupied and in isolation during the last few months of the pregnancy, Jace had made efforts to convince his mother to move the Lady Alicent to the second floor below the palace where the current royal family lived. “To remind her of what she’s done to us and may feel the pain we have endured.” He told Queen Rhaenyra, who was hesitant but accepted afterwards.

Jacaerys marched his way outside the ornate doors where his wife and their babe rested, raising his chin and standing with his chest puffed out, a cold indifferent expression, back straightened and fists clenched white as his wife’s mother made her way up the stairs with difficulty.

In the years since her queenship, the then young queen had begun to develop striking pain all over her body, especially down her spine and legs no matter what the maesters or foreign healers would advise. Jacaerys thought it was fitting for when he would make his mother walk up with him and his newborn siblings, bleeding across the hallways and staircases due to the green queen’s attempt to humiliate them.

Perhaps he is his mother’s son, as diplomatic, gracious, intelligent and cunning as he may be, grudges linger.

He could hear a pin drop as the auburn haired woman nearly stumbled down the final stairs and tripped over her gown, with a few septas rushing over to assist her but he showed no commiseration.

The doors swung open as Alicent limped towards her daughter’s bedside, slightly softening in consolation her daughter was safe in childbirth and the child was kicking like a goat.

“Praise the Mother, my girl.” She brushed her blood-smeared fingers over her silver hair shakily, whispering. He did not miss the glimpse of disappointment when she noticed the dark brown hair of the child, even when the boy had her pale lavender eyes.

Alicent cleared her throat, avoiding the gaze of those around her. “I see that the prince strongly resembles his father.”

Jacaerys’ eyes narrowed in suspicion, instinctively reaching towards the pommel of his Valyrian steel sword. “Is that supposed to be a problem, Dowager?” He stomped forward, hovering above his wife and child.

“Not at all, my prince. He is a handsome boy-”

Queen Rhaenyra noticed the tension beginning to develop and interrupted with a smile. “She means no ill, Jacaerys. Merely an observation.”

“An observation?! She wished to have us named as bastards to replace you as heir with one of her spawns and humiliate you.” He raised his voice, accusatory at his mother’s former adversary, and he could feel Lucerys next to him, pulling him away to calm him.

His wife Y/N, exhausted and delirious from the birth, began to grow pale and overwhelmed from the commotion around her, just as her babe broke out in tears and wailed. The Queen ordered everyone but Jacaerys to exit the room and give the family their space. The door shut with a thunderous thud.

…

Hours later, the midwives finished cleaning up the afterbirth, bathed and cleaned the lady and the child before they both fell asleep in new linen sheets and fed.

Jacaerys never left his young family’s side, despondent he had lost his cool, distressing his family during a vulnerable moment, turning what should have been a celebration into an altercation.

He cringed as he could only imagine what the murmurs and whispers about his behaviour and the events that followed with his wife’s mother would share about him. He had brought this upon himself and his family.

AS Y/N began waking from her first rest since the labours, he turned to her as soon as he could hear her rise from her sheets, reaching for her hands in his.

“I have failed you, wife. I should have protected you but I have only raised in anger over old wounds and created altercations when I should have.” Jacaerys felt his tears brim, cheeks red with ignominy and shame.

Her eyes fluttered awake, still weary from the long delivery but visibly more rested already. She shook her head in understanding with an enervated sigh.

“I understand your relationship with my mother has been tense, for what she had done to Her Grace and your family. But I can assure her she has changed, if she is not with me, she is on the knees at the Sept begging for forgiveness and giving alms-”

“She looked at our son the same way she used to look at me and my brothers as children, when she would use her tongue to call us bastards! I fear she will do the same to you and the boy. What good will alms do if she still wishes to see me and our son six feet under ground for the colour of our hair!?” Jacaerys exclaimed, lips quivering in fear as he felt tears brim in his eyes.

Y/N brought their son closer to her arms, only comforted by the sight of her child and her beloved.

“I will handle her, trust me. She thinks I do not pay attention to these things, but I do.” She reaches her free hand to his, unmoving to not wake the babe and squeezes his larger palms into her own.

Jacaerys sniffles, wiping his tears with his sleeve. “I do not wish to drive you apart from your mother, my love. I only worry about you and our family’s safety, and the throne. That you and our son may not suffer on my behalf.”

Their son had just begun to fall asleep in her arms, and she began bouncing him instinctively, quickly gaining the ropes of what it took to be a good mother. Jacaerys knew she would be nothing like her own mother, eagerly learning from his mother Queen Rhaenyra, speaking with other royal and noble mothers and even listening to wet nurses and nannies on how to rear children best.

“Are you sure you can handle this conversation? Would you like me outside or in the room with you?” He asks with uncertainty, not entirely confident with his wife even with her own mother.

The wife of the heir to the Iron Throne and Princess of Dragonstone nods fiercely. “You forget I am a dragon too. We do not bow to these snakes that suck from their prey.”

…

In the overmorrow on the first day of spring, Y/N had just put her son in his cradle, handcrafted in limestone and marble with seahorses and dragons, lined with sheets of silk with pearls and aquamarines, befitting the future King, and the scion of Houses Targaryen and Velaryon.

She hummed as she watched him sleep, having gone through feeding him herself to the surprise of the wet nurses she had followed through, unlike most royalty. She swore she would leave nursing and care to others if she had no other choice.

Underneath sat the hearth of the magenta and mauve swirled dragon egg surrounded by pieces of coal, emitting whirls of smoke that signified the life alive in those eggs. The egg was special as it was the first from her young ride, a nervous flighty thing who only managed to hatch when she found out she was expecting herself, rarely only having one dragon when most on Dragonstone laid many.

As she hums old Valyrian nursery hymns from the crypts of ancient Valyrian text retrieved from the tombs of the Keep’s libraries, she recognizes the steps of her mother without a glimpse.

In her jade hued robes, Lady Alicent was quaint yet undaunted to remind the court of her former standing as once the queen who ruled these halls. A black veil hid part of her auburn hair that turned to flames in certain lighting.

Her mother grimaces with a smile that does not reach her eyes, but relief is painted all over her being. “You are well, daughter? I presume so is the babe.”

Y/N curtly interrupts her. “The babe is your grandson, my child when I am your flesh and blood, mother. Most importantly, he is the future heir to the throne, second in line to my husband.”

Alicent frantically fidgets with her fingers, tugging at her old emerald rings in consternation.

“Of course, yes. His name, Aemon, is fitting for a future monarch.” She could hear the strain in her mother’s words, laced with lies. All her life she had learned those sealed with malice and deceit.

“You forget yourself, mother. My husband and my children are of the blood of the dragon, as do I. You do not understand the ways of the dragon, in your jealousy of wanting to unseat my sister and put Aegon on the throne. Your attempts to disgrace and dispossess my future husband and his brothers has brought the Stranger hanging over mine and my own son’s head!” Y/N chides in betrayal, voice tinged with disbelief her mother would do such a thing.

“Y/N-”

“I could not believe you, mother, that you still harbour such ill will after many years. My marriage with Jacaerys should have buried whatever disagreements you may have had with Queen Rhaenyra, but you value imbuing hate and division on this house more than choosing the peace and stability of this kingdom!”

“Your husband and your son are unbecoming of what Targaryen princes are supposed to look like-” The Dowager attempted to reason, but was impeded as her daughter held an imposing hand towards her.

“Unbecoming? Have you not glimpsed into a mirror? You are nothing of what a Targaryen queen should be, a mere second son’s daughter who brought nothing of value to the throne, and only sought discord to advance her family. Who replaced the Targaryen tapestries with ones of the Seven in hopes of bringing your radicalism to the rest of the kingdom!”

Guards barge in the doors of the babe’s nursery, their armour and swords clattering loudly in the quiet hall.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Y/N coldly turns away from her mother, even as she frowned the same way she would. “By order of the Princess of Dragonstone with the seal of approval of the Prince of Dragonstone and the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms,

I order your arrest for treason, and insubordination not only for your past grievances but your efforts to call my son a bastard. You will be stripped of your privileges of Queen Dowager, and turned into a septa who will serve the Seven for all her days.”

The former queen is astonished, struggling among the grips of the soldiers who surround her. “Daughter, you are mistaken, please do not do this to me. For all I have sacrificed for this realm and for your father, you must understand why I am the way I am.” She pleaded on her knees, hands clasped as she cried for mercy.

“No, you have served your ambitions and my late grandsire’s treacherous longing for power and the throne, that you would put the Hightower banners and replace Targaryen customs with the Seven and southern ways, that you would tear the kingdom apart for it. I have given you too many chances, forgiving you and turning the cheek in hopes you have accepted it and at least been happy for me, but I am a fool. I am not as forgiving as my father was to your digressions!”

Y/N paced slowly around her mother, sorrow on her face, but no regret or forgiveness.

“You are lucky I will not be putting you in a cell, because for better or for worse, you are still the mother who birthed me. But you would understand, there is nothing a mother would do to grant protection to her children.”

The princess dazed into the window, grasping onto the rails as she heard her mother being dragged out the halls and stripped of her royal ordinances. She could feel herself biting into her nails nervously after years of no longer doing so.

Jacaerys sauntered carefully, approaching his wife with comfort, rubbing her shoulders and bringing her into his arms, looking down at their son as he slept.

“Was I not too cruel, Jace?” She whimpered, weeping into his arms as she was devastated at whether treating her own kin in such a way was a fatal mistake.

He rests his chin on the top of her head before pressing kisses on her temple. “I understand why this troubles you, wife. As abominable and misguided she was, you still are her blood, her daughter.”

She glimpsed at her son, cooing at him as he quietly sleeps. “As a mother, I want to be nothing like her. My son will never be safe while she is around.”

[kushinadragneel]

Sylus brainrot bcs I cannot stop it so

Dad! Sylus, dragon! Sylus (blame my friend and our rp, I adore them), king Sylus actually, twins (I love how the whole fandom seems to agree on that), headcanons, short

Genres: fluff, kind of hurt/comfort with a lil bit of angst/sad, very indulgent, might be a bit ooc, admittedly very influenced by my oc as the thoughts swirled with her in mind

Mentions: pregnancy, female anatomy, motherhood, post partum, insecurities, lactation (not the kinky kind)

Dragons were peculiar beings, you've found out as quite the only human in this weird, entirely draconic kingdom. Though, so to speak, you were the weird one here, lacking horns, scales, a tail…

To say you've had many to learn was an understatement. From heats to mating to their habits, everything had been new.

But there you were, mated to their very king and very much pregnant sooner than quite expected to Sylus's delight.

So here's how your pregnancy goes:

Sylus discovered you were pregnant before you even thought of it. He said your scent got sweeter

You were put on rest instantly. Wrapped in furs that deeply smelled of the both of you, with the finest of silk as clothes and constantly doted on

His habit of scenting you? Got even worse. He's constantly glued to your side. Claims he can't help it, it's in his very instinct to protect you.

He was constantly piling up food on your plate

One child was a blessing. Hearing two heartbeats? Unheard of. Unprecedented

He was glued constantly to your tummy so he heard them. He denies crying to this point, but his eyes had been watery

Carries you whenever for his own pleasure. Your feet have barely met the ground, even as you got fuller and heavier

Massages you when he feels you being restless or tired

Constantly caresses your tummy and talks to the babies

Guilty of taking naps with you, curled around you protectively

Also guilty about stirring the twins with his nips, licks and caresses (got decked one too many times by his babies)

You and him bickered on who the kids will resemble (they ended up mini carbon copies of him)

Dragons do start being more welcoming to you and you slowly start feeling included in the community you're very emotional about it

"One carries a child for 9 months and they end up looking like their father!" one of the dragons playfully complained, pretty much in a similar situation to you. "Doesn't it ever bother you?" she asked curiously

No, it doesn't. Sylus is the favorite parents and the twins have your temper. Bless his patience

Talking of patience, he's had plenty of it with you. Especially as you were pretty much glued to his side and snappy to everyone else your instincts craved your mate pretty heavily during the pregnancy. And after

Talking of after

The first two weeks had been so hectic you were more in and out of sleep, barely remembering anything

Sylus is the light sleeper between the two of you. Surprisingly attuned to the kids, considering they barely start squirming and he's already picking them up

He's constantly scenting them. Playing with them. Is a natural at holding them in the weirdest positions while they babble and laugh

Very protective and possessive of them. Nobody but you and the doctors are allowed to touch his precious treasures (even the doctors are constantly under his scrutinizing gaze)

He does so much it's quite making you feel bad. Especially as the twins seem to favor him right out the womb and seem to need you just for feeding

It's been two weeks and you barely even remember anything. It crushes your soul, especially as one of the babies starts getting fuzzy and he is again the one reaching out for them, soothing the precious chubby cub between his arms.

It makes you sniffle and you have quite the breakdown about not being a good enough mom, crying about how he's doing everything and you barely feel like you've done anything.

He soothes you by holding you closely and nuzzling your hair. "You deserve to rest. You're doing more than enough. Let yourself heal"

You get worried about how much time he actually spends glued to your side, simply because it feels like he's ignoring his duties as a king because of you

He does explain to you that dragons do understand and nobody would be insane enough to expect him to not be by your side constantly at first

Tender moments

He always makes sure to have a regular bath prepared for you and is keen on washing your hair

He truly is a fiend. A kiss stealing fiend

His hands are so gentle over your body, massaging oils and kissing every inch of you. God forbid you ever feel less than wanted, he would snap someone's neck

He's still a flirt with you, just softer

He's actually more worried than you, he just doesn't let it on

He has to stop himself from growling whenever his kids stumble or cry at anything they find scary

The twins are menaces. He spoils them too much

He plays fight with them in the way wolves and lions do. He fakes being tackled to the ground and everything. Barely has the heart to scold them when they nip a bit too seriously at his skin

Though, he does have the heart to scold them when they try the same with you. He's very stern about your safety

[eepy-cookies]

Characters: Shadow Milk Cookie x G/N! Reader Content Warning: Angst, Hurt/Comfort Spoilers for Beast-Yeast episode 8 of the finale Disclaimer: If the characters are ooc, remember that this is made for fun. (ngl its been a while since I type a fanfic, but I am still rusty on that so bear with me, plus I found a post on twitter that SMC could also be Blue Moon Cookie but its just a guess.)

After the defeat of the jester that got away...

There was a memory in the distant past, WAY before he himself was created. Surely you have heard the tale of the first five cookies that were made before they become the beast cookies, a cookie one of the beast fell in love but...

The witches had to hide a terrible secret that if a cookie has the most missing incomplete ingredients, that said cookie is sick and cannot live until old age.

??? Cookie: "Um... Are you sure that there is a way to create a cure?"

??? Cookie: "There is a possibility I believe, as a fount of knowledge I will find the cure. But if I kindly ask"

(I remember the first meeting we have (Y/N) Cookie, it pains me to know this...)

That unfortunate cookie named (Y/N) Cookie has an incurable illness, due to the Witch's mistake, The Fount of Knowledge was desperate to find the cure for (Y/N) Cookie, the very first friend who greeted the pre-corrupted beast in a kingdom that was now long gone. One of them falls for that unfortunate cookie, their kindness, patience, and confidence they had charmed him even if he was at his lowest. He knew the pain in the future and yet, he yearned for more.

They both get along well, it was peaceful for them. He never felt any happier just being by their side, but not all happiness last much longer.

One day he was about to give (Y/N) Cookie a gift, a love letter that will never be opened and read.

???: "(Y/N) COOKIE?!" ???: "PLEASE WAKE UP!"

He stood there shocked, (Y/N) Cookie was on the floor struggling to get up. He knew (Y/N) Cookie was sick and yet their own health is getting worse by the minute, in a act of desperation he decided to look further into knowledge casting a spell on (Y/N) Cookie to keep their health in check, but as the years go by madness took hold of him and decided to cast a spell on them.

???: "My love...I am sorry...."

Madness CLEARLY took a hold of him.

Shadow Milk Cookie: "I can't afford to lose you! So I will make you as one of my puppets! Hehehe... HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!"

And yet...

Tears fell from his face, he drops down to his knees leaning closer to them.

He can't do it.

He can't harm the one he love dearly.

Leaving only behind a kiss on the forehead, and the unread love letter in their hands. He casted the spell that would last much longer in hopes to find a cure while he is away. After all he will just lie to himself that he killed them, it's no big deal.

----

Pure Vanilla Cookie: This must be the place.

Wizard Cookie: A coffin? Why this place?

Gingerbrave Cookie: !!! Look a cookie is inside!

Strawberry Cookie: Are they...still breathing?!

Pure Vanilla Cookie watch as the sleeping (Y/N) remained in the coffin, sleeping peacefully. To which he now understands why Shadow Milk Cookie was trying to preserve some of his energy, casting a life lasting spell was taking a toll on him even if he was sealed.

Pure Vanilla Cookie: I hope this spell allowed you to wake up...

With no other explanation another spell was casted, pure healing magic was casting on (Y/N) Cookie. Pure Vanilla Cookie witnessed this tragic memory, and yet he had to secretly admit, he is evil but his capability of magic was greater far from what he had imagined.

But all that's left was silence, and yet...

Everyone: !!!

??? Cookie: ...W....Wh....

Gingerbrave Cookie: Look their awake!

Pure Vanilla Cookie: (Y/N) Cookie..... are you awake?

(Y/N) Cookie: ...H...hung.....r..y...

Strawberry Cookie quickly pull out an extra supply of royal bear jellies and gently feed (Y/N) Cookie as the others watch in concern. In the corner of Pure Vanilla Cookie's soul jam they aren't the only ones who witness a miracle that was tragic yet so real.

---

Arriving at a safe in (Y/N) Cookie was put on a wheel chair carefully eating the jelly soup one of the cookies made, they themselves were confused knowing that they would pass on and yet here they are somehow alive, still sick but still living, as if someone was carrying the burden off from their shoulders.

(Y/N) Cookie looked at the letter that they kept and had not opened and kept it close to them at all times. They need to know what happen, what year is it, and most importantly...where are their only friends?

...

..

.

That night when everyone is asleep, (Y/N) Cookie wheeled their way to the balcony watching the stars holding the letter close to their chest. Wondering where did their friend go, glancing at the letter that was remained fresh despite how many years has passed. They opened the letter carefully just to give it a read.

But before they can actually read it...

??? Cookie: ...(Y../N) Cookie?"

That recognizable voice from behind, (Y/N) Cookie looked to see that what was once the one they knew was in a different appearance of a jester. They were supposed to feel fear and yet...

(Y/N) Cookie: ...Are...you.... Blue Moon / Blueberry Milk Cookie?

He walked closer to see if they are actually alive, (Y/N) is still sick but cannot walk properly. Their hands reached out to him, gently touching his cheek. His face was unreadable and yet...

Shadow Milk Cookie: Are you....awake? (Y/N) Cookie?

There was no voice is mischief or anything, just pure vulnerable voice he has left of them. (Y/N) Cookie nodded as he kneel on the ground gently yet carefully hugging (Y/N) Cookie hiding his face to their chest. (Y/N) Cookie gently hugged him back remembering the usual scent that they personally love.

His own body shaking which (Y/N) was crying in turn, wondering to themselves what happened to him when they are asleep for SO very long?

[zorostitties]

Aurora; 1 (m)

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 5k

A/N: i made a post some days ago complaining that there weren't enough alucard fics on tumblr. because of that, a demon possessed me to write this story. i hope you'll like it so i can continue writing the next parts lmao ❤️ feedback is always MUCH appreciated! and, as usual, english is not my first language.

⤕  Chapters: check masterlist in bio! ⤕ Also on AO3

Before they gave you a name, they taught you the three simple rules for survival.

Don’t scream. Don’t cry. Don’t fight.

Those rules weren’t taught using words. You learned them as they were engraved on your skin, repeatedly. Night after night. Day after day. Teeth sinking on your neck sending shockwaves of pure pain through your body. Jaws so tight around your jugular that you couldn’t breathe anymore; made you desperately grasp for air in vain. The suction noise. You hated that noise. It was coming from you. The liquid dripping from your wound, warm and sticky, gluing your dress to your skin. The smell of iron. Pain pain pain pain pain. The intense headache that followed. The darkened vision, the dizziness. Your limbs losing all of their strength.

Then - pitch black unconsciousness.

You might’ve fought the first time it happened… or the first times. It is hard to remember. You struggled. You tried to push her away. You tried to punch her, claw her face, pull her hair. And that’s when you learned the don’t fight rule. Every time you put up some sort of resistance, she’d crush you with ten times more strength. You learned, very quickly, that having your blood sucked off wasn’t the worst she or her servants could do. You learned it after broken bones and pierced organs. You learned it after ripped teeth and hair.

You learned that she took pleasure in it.

She liked to see tears streaming down your face. She rejoiced every time you begged her to just let you die.

So, you learned. Don’t scream. Don’t cry.

If you stood still, if you offered no resistance, if you just let her have her way - it would be over quicker. You learned that your blood was valuable to her. You learned that not many things were valuable to her… but your blood, for some reason, was - even though you’d see her feeding from other girls as well.

However, you also learned that all these other victims would simply die after she fed off them. Not only her victims; the members of her entourage’s victims as well. They’d get pale and lifeless very quickly. They’d get thrown away after they stopped moving, their cheeks hollow and eyes rolled back.

You learned that you weren’t like them. For some reason, you always woke up the next day as if nothing happened. Cheeks still full. Skin still colored. Heart still beating.

Perhaps… perhaps that’s what made you valuable.

So you behaved.

They gave you a bed after a while. She realized that your blood tasted better if you were well fed, so the meals got more elaborate over time. She started complimenting you. She’d make you wear the most beautiful gowns. She’d make you sit by her side, silently, as she held her numerous balls. Her guests - her subjects - would bow after her, pledge loyalty, kiss her feet. Sometimes she accepted their words. Sometimes she killed them on the spot.

You’d sit there for hours, avoiding eye contact with anyone. Her abnormally tall figure projected a shadow over you. The sound of her voice made your skin crawl. Her smell made you want to vomit.

Still, you’d behave.

She’d turn to you after she was bored of talking or sick of feeding from other girls. Her hands were bigger than anyone you’ve ever seen; her claws, as sharp as an eagle’s. Her grip on you seemed to weigh tons.

With somewhat delicacy, she touched the necklace they made you wear that night. A huge ruby stone sitting over your collarbones.

“Ruby,” she said almost in a purr. “The same color of your delicious blood.”

A shiver ran down your spine.

“It sounds like a fitting name, My Queen.” The woman that never left her side commented. Her most loyal servant.

She chuckled, passing the tip of her tongue on her fangs.

“Indeed.”

That night, they gave you a name.

Jaw tightened around your jugular. No air. Pain pain pain pain pain. You didn’t fight back. You squeezed your eyes shut, tears falling silently down your cheeks. Headache. Dizziness.

And then - darkness.

“My sister, the moon, burns brightly tonight. She’s very excited, of course.”

The full moon, indeed, lightened the entire scenery, painting it in a gorgeous silver color. It reflected on Erszebet’s golden armor with a hauntingly beautiful glow. A soft breeze played with her white skirt as she gesticulated in her speech. She sounded tired, a calculated tone of hatred in her voice, as she explained in detail the revenge she’d take on her “father”, Amun-Ra.

You scanned the new place with your eyes. A vast garden expanded ahead. What did Drolta say…? Oh, yes. France was the name of the country you’ve arrived after weeks of travel. Although the night was chilly, it was still much warmer than Erzsebet’s home, which was always covered in meters of snow. At least thirty cloaked vampires waited in line for their Messiah’s arrival, being leaded by Drolta, of course.

In the moments your brain was working with somewhat lucidity, you heard conversations about some revolution. It was hard to make much sense of what they meant exactly, for anytime they had “important” conversations with you around, you’d be usually with an open wound on your neck trying to fight the overwhelming weakness and pain. They had the care to not let you be near while you were fully conscious. During the day as most of the Messiah’s court (and herself) slept, you were locked in your quarters. You were allowed to walk out only when Erzsebet needed to feed.

You didn’t understand exactly what they meant by that - in fact, you didn’t understand much of anything at all. You didn’t know why these vampires considered Erzsebet their queen; you didn’t understand why she considered herself a queen - no, she considered herself a goddess. You didn’t know what they meant by “crushing the revolution”, and you didn’t understand what you were doing in France.

Most importantly - you didn’t understand exactly what was their interest in you.

The obvious part: you seemed to be Erzsebet’s infinite source of blood and court jester, as the fact that she could break you in every way and you’d still wake up as if nothing happened the next morning entertained her. However… she didn’t need you. The Vampire Messiah had girls being fed to her daily. It’s not as if she was going through a blood shortage anytime soon. And… it seemed that she also had immense pleasure in simply killing - something she could not achieve with you.

So why keep you around? Why keep you locked with guards holding you at all times? Why drag you along anywhere she went?

There weren’t many moments in which your mind was clear - and in those small moments, such questions screamed in your mind relentlessly. Just… just why?

Why is any of this happening?

Your mind snapped back to reality the moment you heard a new strange sound. You lifted your head to see a big golden cage being brought closer to Erzsebet.

A frightened young girl locked inside it.

The sight didn’t shock you. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel a sting of sadness.

“Daughter of a revolutionary deputy. Member of the Jacobin club.” Drolta introduced maliciously as she opened the cage with the help of her clutch. A servant dragged the brown haired girl out of the cage. You watched in solemn silence as Erzsebet floated out of her chariot.

For a moment, the girl made eye contact with you. She immediately recognized your human features. Maybe, for a split second, she might’ve found some comfort in your image, finally seeing someone like her. Her eyes begged for an explanation; begged for help.

But there was nothing you could do.

You looked down again, not wanting to see Erzsebet sinking her fangs in the young girl’s neck. Silently, you apologized for being somewhat relieved that she was there. Erszebet would leave you alone until she got satisfied of her new victim.

As the sound of her strangled whimpers filled the area, Drolta approached you.

You never got used to it - how vampires could move unnervingly fast. You had barely realized she was standing by your side when you felt her hands hold your waist on both sides, taking you off the horse back as if you were a toddler, and putting you on your feet.

She smirked.

Goosebumps crawled your skin.

Erszebet was cruel, irritating, violent and loud. You knew that very well. Yet… perhaps the fact that you knew she was incapable of actually killing you made you somewhat anesthetized of her presence.

Drolta, however, actually scared you.

She wasn’t loud or reckless, she didn’t act on her instincts like her master. No… she was calculated. It seemed that her eyes were always over everything, like she knew what anyone would do before they even moved. There was something truly ominous deep within her pink eyes. Much smarter than Erszebet. In a way, much crueler.

She caressed your cheek with the back of her fingers.

“Rejoice, Ruby. You have a very important task ahead of you.” She said in what sounded like a purr before dragging you towards a carriage.

Oh.

You… actually knew what she meant already. A memory from not long ago - or was it long ago? - came; the last time you were required to do this… task. And once more, you hated the fact that your memory was so weak, how you couldn’t recall things that should be important, should be essential. Deep down, you knew your real name wasn’t “Ruby”. You knew you might’ve had a past… maybe even a family. Yet, any time you tried to tap on these memories, nothing came. Just frustrating emptiness.

There was actually a third reason for Erzsebet to keep you around and close. A valid reason.

And it filled you with unfathomable remorse.

The chateau was a magnificent place.

You didn’t have time to explore any of it, of course – you were immediately dragged into a room as soon as the entourage arrived, mere hours before sunrise. Still, you had time to see the exquisite gardens that decorated the entrance, the river that seemed to isolate it from the rest of the world. The interior of the chateau was just as mesmerizing. Opulence radiated from every corner, with golden arabesques and crystal chandeliers.

Your room was no less impressive. The bed, big and comfortable; it was a relief to sleep on a soft surface after weeks of uncomfortable travel. The towering windows faced the back gardens and the reflective pools of the water fountains. It was even equipped with a marble bathtub.

Nothing but a golden cage. You were locked in. Two guards stood outside the doors at all times. The door only opened to deliver food three times a day and to clean the latrine.

It was… tranquil.

It had been two… three…? days since you arrived. You couldn’t be sure. In the meantime, your presence was not requested – which made you question if that same poor girl was still alive or if they’d found someone else to entertain Erzsebet. It was a relief. Truly. You didn’t have many opportunities to stay awake and sane for such a long period.

You heard music and voices coming from downstairs, meaning they had a ball at some point. From the peek of the curtains, you saw that the chateau always very busy at night. Yes, it was tranquil – but all that movement filled you with constant apprehension. A strange heaviness in your gut that didn’t let you have a peaceful sleep. Something was going to happen. Something big.

The awful feeling in your gut only got worse when, in the middle of the night, a handful of maids entered your room without warning.

They washed you without any care. They perfumed your body. They brushed and styled your hair with intricate braids that curled at the top of your head in somewhat of a bun. They applied rouge to your lips. They dressed you in a jaw-dropping, beautiful blue gown; as dark as the night sky, embroidered with silver silk lines that seemed to imitate stars peppering around the skirt. The corset was tight but not uncomfortable. It was actually a much lighter dress than the ones you used to wear back at Erzsebet’s country, given how much more pleasant the temperature in France was.

Erzsebet loved luxury. She loved jewels, diamonds, gold, beautiful dresses; she did not allow anyone to appear anything but perfect anywhere near her, as ugliness displeased her eyes. She loved the theatrics of it. That is why, as you looked at the absolutely gorgeous image of yourself in the mirror, the only thing you felt was disgust. Perfectly well put, devoid of any personality trait. Just the way Her Magnificence liked it.

And that… that fucking ruby necklace sitting over your collarbones. It seemed to burn your skin. She demanded you to always wear it.

Your personal collar.

That morning, Drolta herself came to escort you.

The woman wore a black gown made of what looked like leather. You saw her reflection on the mirror and shivered, not having noticed she had entered the room at all.

That same vicious smile adorned her features. She stepped closer, putting her hands over your shoulders, and looked straight to your eyes through the mirror.

“Beautiful as always, Ruby.” You hated that name. You hated the way she said it. Almost a mockery. “You know what you have to do, right?”

You gulped and nodded as your suspicions were confirmed. Drolta rolled her eyes.

“Did you unlearn how to speak? It has been ages since I last heard the sound of your voice.” But she didn’t give you time to answer, dragging you out of the room by the arm instead. The two cloaked guards followed shortly. “You should be proud of yourself, Ruby. Being able to help Her Magnificence is the greatest honor of all. You do know you are the only human she allows in her court, right?”

Oh, what a great honor. You felt your fingers beginning to shake as you approached the ceremonies hall, hearing the sound of multiple voices fast approaching.

It was, indeed, crowded.

The curtains covered all of the windows, since it was early in the morning; the sun reigned in the sky. Some vampires wore the typical black cloaks and some wore aristocratic attires. Quiet conversation filled the great hall. There was an air of expectation and excitement. It only made your guts twist more.

Not many paid attention to your arrival – their queen kept their attention locked on her, standing near the guard rail on the double stairs. You recognized some faces from Erzsebet’s palace; some were completely new. A few sent you the usual looks of thirst upon the realization that you were human. You tried not to make eye contact with anyone.

However, your eyes locked with one of the new faces very briefly. A brown-skinned man, wearing a luxurious purple attire. His long black hair fell to right side of his face, adorning his beautiful features. His green eyes didn’t hold any thirst or malice like the others. He just looked… curious. Astute. You quickly averted your eyes somewhere else.

Just to spot another face – and this time, the sting of sadness in your heart came back.

It was… it was that girl from before.

She wore a white gown – but the collar of the corset was tainted with her own blood. She had very visible open wounds on both sides of her neck. Standing by the stairs, she barely had the strength to support her own weight; her once olive skin now looked unhealthily pale.

You gulped.

Watching her in that state was like seeing yourself. Except this girl was going to die. Very soon.

How was she still alive?

The vampire kept dragging you by the arm, seemingly not noticing your apparent shock. When you passed by the girl on your way up the stairs, she recognized you again – and, once more, sent you a gaze that seemed to scream for help.

That was worse than a punch in the gut.

Drolta made you stop some steps away from Erzsebet. The Vampire Messiah did not bother to look back at you; as you already knew, she was preparing herself to what was about to come. Behind you, an obelisk with inscriptions and engravings was placed. Another cloaked servant approached. He carried a heavy, ancient book on his hands; its cover was made of black old leather, and although it was fading away due to the book’s apparent antique, you could see the outline of an image of the moon on it.

Drolta took the book in her arms, opening it on a specific page, and handed it to you.

“It is time.” She said with a voice filled of pride. “Take your part on the rise of Her Magnificence, and you may have our eternal gratitude.”

You didn’t want their eternal gratitude.

But that’s not what made you hesitate.

After looking at the book, your fragile memories came back with more clarity. You… you did this ritual twice before. You couldn’t tell how long ago. After it was over, you were locked back to your cell as usual, you didn’t exactly see what happened next – but you didn’t really need to see anything to understand the gravity of what it caused.

Even inside your room, you remembered feeling the stench of rotten human flesh for days.

Just… how many people must’ve died?

At this point, you were resigned to being hurt. You didn’t really see any point in trying to escape the claws of those two supernaturally powerful vampires – it’d only bring you more pain. But one thing was getting hurt... another was getting others hurt because of you. You didn’t want to be the harbinger of death again. Whatever they were planning, you didn’t want to participate.

So you froze in place. Sweat dripped down your temples. Your heartbeat increased.

“What… what are you going to do?” you asked, mustering the courage to speak in a quiet voice.

Drolta wasn’t smiling anymore.

She stepped closer, towering over you. Her eyes burned with contempt and cruelty. She brought her lips close to your ear, not to draw unwanted attention.

“Horrible timing to decide to be brave, darling.” She hissed. “Do what you’re told or she’ll face the consequences.”

She grabbed your face by the cheeks and forced your head towards the stairs.

The girl in white stood there, watching everything with frightened eyes.

You gasped.

She had noticed.

Drolta chuckled.

“We know we can hurt you as we please, dear Ruby… but her? How much do you think she can handle?” You felt the warm press of her lips on your cheek. “Will you condemn her to a slow, horrid death in the name of your bravery?” She whispered, her voice dripping with mockery.

Your breath came shaky and difficult. The room seemed to blur for a second. You knew she wasn’t bluffing. She never did.

Slowly, you took the book from her hands.

Drolta released you with a satisfied grin. She patted the top of your head.

“Good girl.”

She stepped aside.

Your fingers were shaking. The book was heavy. It smelled of mold.

You sat down on the cool marble floor directly behind Erzsebet, the long skirt cascading around your body. You placed the book in front of you. The paper was yellowed and frail; it might rip off if you touched it. The pages had no images, only text handwritten in red ink.

You didn’t understand the words written. However, for some reason, you could read them clearly, although it sounded like nothing to you. You closed your eyes tightly, silently apologizing again for what you were about to do.

Erzsebet raised her head.

It was your sign.

You started to read the enchantment.

Your voice was nothing but a whisper. As the unknown words left your mouth, an already familiar feeling of disgust grew. You didn’t know what those words meant, but something deep within you – inside that darkened part of your brain where your memories must’ve been hidden – knew you were saying something blasphemous, hideous, something that went against your very nature.

Erzsebet seemed to fall into a trance when she heard those words. She inhaled them – the spell – as if they were smoke. Something as heavy as iron weighed over the hall, making all the spectators apprehensive. The tall, red-haired vampire started to gesticulate with wide, almost dance-like movements.

There was a crack in the air in front of her. Then, as she gesticulated, an orb of pure black and white energy materialized. The spectators gasped in awe.

Her movements became more frantic. The orb grew larger. You kept reading, feeling your throat going dry, your body getting weaker with each word. It’s as if Erzsebet was not only absorbing your words, but also your strength. Your eyes blurred with tears which you blinked rapidly to dissipate.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please, forgive me.

The eclipse started.

Slowly, a shadow made its way to cover the moon.

More gasps of awe.

Forgive me.

“Behold, the Devourer of Light!” Drolta announced with pride and admiration. Erzsebet laughed.

Please, forgive me. I’m sorry.

The curtains were dragged. The windows were opened with a gust of wind. The vampires rejoiced.

You gasped for air.

The enchantment was over. There was no more strength in your body.

You covered your face with your hand, not daring to raise your eyes and see the horde of vampires flying free through the windows. You didn’t pay attention to whomever took you back to your room and locked you there. You didn’t have enough energy to get up from the carpet.

For the first time in days, you closed your eyes and slept - hoping to never wake up again and face the horrors you helped unleash in the world.

There was something wrong.

You felt it in the air. A heavy tension. A strange silence.

That was not what you expected after the eclipse. Usually, what followed was a celebration of the conquer, a banquet filled with hundreds of victims upon whom the vampires feasted. Laughter, music, screams of agony, the horrible stench of blood and carcasses.

But now, it was… eerie.

With your body aching from sleeping on the floor, you glued your head to the door in hopes of getting a clue of what might’ve happened. All you heard were fast steps and shushed whispers. You noticed something was definitely wrong as hours went by and no one came to bring you breakfast.

Is it possible that Erzsebet’s plan – whatever it was – went wrong?

These thoughts churned in your mind as you took off the jewelry, undid the tight hairstyle and took off the under layers of skirt that made the dress puffier. Who could possibly go against Erzsebet or Drolta? At this point, your only memories were of being surrounded by vampires. The few humans you met didn’t last that long. You’ve been around them for long enough to understand that most vampires were only slightly stronger and faster than humans. It wasn’t easy or quick to become powerful – and the Vampire Messiah had some fairly powerful servants under her command. In fact, you didn’t think anyone could be more powerful than Drolta. Erzsebet could summon an eclipse, but she didn’t seem to be as experienced in battle as her right hand woman.

As far as your suspicions went, you could be sure that, unfortunately, the insufferable red-haired vampire wasn’t defeated. There were still guards outside your doors. Whatever happened, it wasn’t enough to stop her from accomplishing her… plan.

Sitting in front of the dressing table while you untied one of the braids in your head, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Without the rouge, the jewelry, the neat hairstyle. You were just a shell of a woman, really. Whenever you had enough time to really think about your life – in those brief moments when you weren’t in the brink of unconsciousness or fighting against the pain –, the only thing you could feel was… frustration. It wasn’t even sadness or hatred, only plain frustration. You knew there was something wrong with your head. You knew that immense void in your memory couldn’t be normal. Still, there was nothing you could do about it. They never gave you time to think, to maybe plan an escape strategy. But even if you did – how could you actually run away? You didn’t have the strength to face a vampire head on, even the “weak” ones. And you knew the types of punishment you’d be put through if you were caught.

You always healed, yes. But it didn’t make the pain less painful. Drolta could be very creative in her ways of ensuring your utter submission.

In the end, you were reminded of why you always chose to sleep through most of your sanity. While awake, you were constantly reminded of your current situation and your inability to change it. At least while you slept, you had… peace.

The clock on the wall hit noon. Your stomach was empty, yet you didn’t know if you wanted to eat.

That’s when you caught something with the corner of your eye.

It was quick and silent – barely a flap of wings. You turned your head in time to see a strange mass of black materializing in your room, passing through the breach of the window.

Your eyes widened. Your heart jumped.

That mass took the form of a man.

Your immediate feeling was fear. That was, very clearly, a vampire. His skin was pale as snow, just like his long hair, which cascaded over his broad shoulders. His eyes were hazel, almost golden; they seemed to glow faintly under the shadow cast over his face. He was tall. His attire was black from head to toe – boots, gloves, jacket, cape. He had a calm, yet ferocious expression – analytical, even – as his eyes locked onto yours. He held a long silver sword, its tip pointed directly at you.

The obvious threat in his position should frighten you even more. But that was not was you focused on.

Sunlight hit him through the windows, casting a halo on the back of his head. His hair shimmered with the glow of a million silver coins. It made him look… holy. Like the frescoes you had seen of the Christian God painted on the ceiling of a church Erzsebet once destroyed.

How… how could he…?

“You can come with me peacefully.” He said quietly. His voice was deep. Husky. He almost sounded… calm. But you wouldn’t let yourself be fooled by that; it was unyielding as stone. The stranger didn’t blink for a moment, his eyes tracking your every small movement like a tiger stalking its prey.

He was, in fact, not giving you a choice. The sword in his hand, unwavering and pointed at you, made that very clear.

Your breath got caught in your throat.

There were many things you could’ve said. You knew that man could and would hurt you if you moved too abruptly. Barely five seconds in his presence and you understood: like Drolta, he wasn’t one to bluff.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to feel more afraid, because as he spoke, you caught a glimpse of his fangs – and that other feeling grew stronger.

Curiosity.

“Y-You’re a vampire. How are you standing in the sunlight?” was all you could mutter in frightened amazement.

The stranger didn’t drop his threatening position, yet he tightened his eyes in a subtle sign of surprise. It seemed that your sudden question caught him off guard.

“Don’t you know who I am?” he asked, keeping the same tone. It was your turn to frown. You clasped your hands together, resting them over your legs, and shook your head. How and why would you know him?

“I’m afraid not, sir.”

He narrowed his eyes even more. It looked like he was searching for something, inspecting you with a new type of interest.

“I find it hard to believe that one of Erzsebet’s servants wouldn’t know of me by now.”

You gulped, tightening your own clasped hands.

“I… don’t know many things, sir.”

The stranger still watched you, in silence, for a few more seconds. It hit you in that moment the reason for his apparent confusion. He expected you to fight him.

Then, he straightened his position. You eyes widened with apprehension and shock when he let go of his long sword and it floated – the weapon stood with its hilt turned to the ceiling a few centimeters away from the floor, emitting an eerie metallic sound as it moved.

The man approached you. He was silent – so silent that, if you weren’t directly looking at him, you probably wouldn’t know someone was moving in the same room as you. As if he had dropped that ferocity, he sat down on the bed in front of you with a newly serene expression.

“I was rude in my approach. My apologies.” his voice mirrored the serenity of his face. “I am Alucard.”

Your breath got caught in your throat once more.

You didn’t know what was more shocking. His sudden change in behavior, his absolute calm while in enemy territory… or the fact that he was beautiful.

Again – you were more used to vampires than humans at this point. Every vampire had an uncanny beauty to them. They were attractive and scary at the same time. While you could see and sense very well that this man still represented danger… the “uncanny” aspect didn’t apply to him. He looked young (being a vampire, that didn’t mean much), a man of soft yet striking features.

Ethereal was the word you were looking for.

You noticed that he was paying attention if you were going to react to his name, which you didn’t. You also noticed that he was waiting for you to present yourself as well. Slow reactions. You weren’t used to talking.

“My name is…” your words trailed off.

For the first time, you averted your eyes from his, grabbing the blue fabric of your skirt in discomfort.

“They call me Ruby, sir.”

The man – Alucard – quirked one eyebrow slightly. “Is it not your real name?”

You sighed tiredly. “I don’t think so. No.”

Alucard hummed. His voice was so deep that it seemed to reverberate in your bones. He crossed his arms. “And do you have any idea of why I am here, Maybe-Ruby?”

The unexpected humorous way in which he called you caught you by surprise. Still, once more, you gulped, apprehension growing yet again.

“To… get revenge, I suppose?” The vampire looked genuinely confused for the first time. His quirked eyebrow was an unspoken question. It made you avoid his eyes once again, feeling a mix of anxiety and embarrassment. “For the eclipse.”

He went silent for some moments.

“Did you cause the eclipse?” You heard a sting of danger in his question that only made your heartbeat increase.

“I helped. Somehow.”

“Why?” He was growing more inquisitive.

“I didn’t have a choice, sir.” You blurted out nervously.

Alucard hummed yet again.

When he let out a tired sigh, you finally looked back at him.

“To answer my previous question,” he said as he got up from the bed. “I came here to kidnap you. But it looks like I’m saving you, as Erzsebet seems to be as much of a threat to you.”

You gasped, widened you eyes.

He… he wanted to take you out of here?

The anxiety made your fingers shake. You felt nervous, excited, hopeful… scared. Hell, were you scared. How in the world would this man take you out of here alive? Floating sword or not, did he even stand a chance against Drolta?

“However, I will need your help in return, Ruby,” Alucard continued, now looking back at the windows. “I see you don’t know many things, but I’d appreciate if you made some effort. Now, let’s go. I’m already abusing the opportunity my associate gave me…”

“Wait.”

You grabbed his wrist in a desperate move.

Alucard looked at your hands, then at you – once again, confused and shocked.

You were shaking.

“Thank you for your help, sir. You are very kind.” you managed to blurt out somehow. “B-But I don’t think Erzsebet will ever let me go. She… she has very powerful servants. One of them, Drolta… she will hunt me to the ends of the earth. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me, sir.”

You didn’t dare to look up at him.

Perhaps you were being too emotive. You barely knew this man at all; what proof did you have that he wasn’t as cruel as the vampires that were keeping you imprisoned? But at least – and for the first time you could remember – he was somewhat kind to you. He didn’t offend you, didn’t physically hurt you… and that alone was much more than anyone had offered for as long as you knew.

Maybe he could get out of here safely. He wouldn’t have Erzsebet and her entourage hunting him down. Maybe he still had a chance-

Your train of thought derailed the moment you heard his… chuckle.

Your heart jumped within your chest the moment he, with much delicacy, put his own gloved hand over yours and squeezed it reassuringly.

You finally looked up.

Alucard had a small smile on his lips. It wasn’t one of the mean, mocking smirks you were used to. The suspicion disappeared from his eyes, his eyebrows were not longer tense. He looked… gentle. More than that… there was a glint of humor in his eyes, as if he found the situation funny.

The sun that streamed through the windows seemed to shine even brighter, surrounding his entire figure in golden glow that matched his eyes. Yes, he looked holy. Otherworldly.

“I won’t get hurt,” he assured with tenderness. “And neither will you.”

Time itself seemed to stop at that moment.

He didn’t boast about being all-powerful. And you realized that he didn’t need to. Underneath his gentle eyes, you saw unwavering confidence; quiet, motionless and imposing like a mountain. In a way, it was much more menacing than any of Erzsebet’s scandalous actions or bloodbaths.

And for the first time, such menace wasn’t directed at you. It was on your favor.

That was your chance. The only real chance you ever got as far as your frail memory knew. A chance of living in a world where you didn’t have to follow the three survival rules.

Don’t fight. Don’t scream. Don’t cry.

But you wanted to fight. You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry.

You wanted to live.

So when Alucard offered his hand, you took it and got up from the chair.

You didn’t need to say anything. The silver-haired vampire nodded with satisfaction as his sword companion floated closer to him.

“Let’s go.”

Then, you followed Alucard towards the sun – towards the dawn of a new life.