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sucker4mafia · 4 months ago

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━━━ 'CHAPTER TWO' [ETERNAL NIGHT]

SYNOPSIS ➢ not every answer you seek will be in a book, you understand that now.

PAIRING ➢ poly!enhypen x male!reader, sim jaehyun x male! reader, park sunghoon x male!reader, yang jungwon x male!reader

AU ➢ strangers-to-lovers au! x enemies-to-lovers au! x vampire au!

CONTENT WARNING ➢ this chapter contains; some angst, men's wrongs, mentions of stealing, past trauma, sensual sprinkles, mentions of satanism, mentions of gore, blood, cannibalism [let me know if i missed any!]

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the night had went on for a few more hours, now you settled into a quiet corner of the library, surrounded by towering shelves of leather-bound books and the soft glow of table lamps. the air was thick with the scent of old paper and knowledge. pulling out your textbooks and notes, you began tackling the day's assignments. professor thackery's history essay required meticulous research, and you dove into the task, losing track of time.

as you worked, the library's gentle hum provided a soothing background noise. occasional whispers, rustling pages, and the creaking of wooden chairs created a symphony of studious activity. your focus wavered only once, when you stumbled upon an obscure text referencing the academy's founding. eternal academy's history was shrouded in mystery, and you couldn't resist exploring. "established in 1850 by silas eternalton, esq.," the text read. "a sanctuary for gifted individuals, providing refuge from the tumultuous world." you wondered what eternalton had envisioned for his academy. shaking off the distraction, you refocused on your essay. the words flowed effortlessly, your thoughts organized and coherent.

as the hours passed, the library's population thinned. moonlight streaming through the stained glass windows began to fade, casting a warm orange glow across the room from the candles flames. you packed up your belongings, satisfied with the day's progress. the librarian flew upwards and closed the curtains of all the windows, making sure no sun would come in. your essay was nearly complete, and you felt confident about meeting professor thackery’s expectations.

just as you stood to leave, a book slipped off the shelf nearby, its cover thudding against the floor. you turned to see a title embossed in gold lettering: "the art of control." curiosity piqued, you look around you before hesitating and walking backwards, you picked up the book, blowing off the dust. the pages yellowed with age, the text within promising secrets about mastering one's inner turmoil.

you carefully returned "the art of control" to its shelf, aligning it precisely with the adjacent books. your focus needed to remain on your assignments, not stray into intriguing but unnecessary reading. as you turned to leave, the library's silence was broken by a faint creaking sound. you spun around, watching in surprise as "the art of control" slid off the shelf once more. you narrowed your eyes and walked to the other side of the wall of books, ready to yell at whoever was behind the mysterious book falling. however, to your dismay, no one was to be seen. the feeling of unease was settling in your chest now, fumbling with your bag strap as you slowly walked over to the book that layed on the floor. this time, the book landed open-faced, its pages fluttering to a specific passage:

"to master the tempest within,

first acknowledge the depths of thy soul.

fear not the darkness, for it holds

the key to harnessing thy true potential."

the words seemed to leap off the page, resonating with an otherworldly intensity. you felt an inexplicable pull, as if the book was urging you to explore its secrets. "curiouser and curiouser," you muttered, quoting alice's adventures in wonderland. you just stood over the book and stared at it for a bit.

the librarian, mrs. jeong, looked up from her desk, her eyes narrowing. "everything alright, dear?" you hesitated, unsure how to explain the book's strange behavior. "oh um, yeah, sorry just dropped this." you awkwardly smile and nod. mrs. jeong’s gaze lingered, her expression knowing. "well make sure to pick it up." she chuckles before continuing to type something in her computer.

“right..” you whisper to yourself before kneeling and picking up the book in your hands. you sat back down, your curiosity getting the better of you. the book's words seemed to beckon, promising secrets and answers. as you delved into "the art of control," the library's sounds faded into the background. the words on the page became your sole focus:

"the mind is a maelstrom, a whirlpool of thoughts and emotions. to tame it, one must first understand its depths."

the author's prose was lyrical, weaving together philosophy, psychology, and mysticism. you felt like you were unraveling a puzzle, each page revealing a new piece. time lost all meaning as you read. the library's lamps seemed to burn brighter, casting a golden glow across the pages.

"the key to mastery lies not in suppression, but in balance. acknowledge the shadows within, and integrate them into your whole." the words resonated deeply, echoing your own struggles with your powers. you felt a sense of kinship with the author, as if they understood your inner turmoil. as you turned the page, a piece of paper slipped out, yellowed and worn. a handwritten note, tucked between the pages:

"for those who seek mastery. -s.e."

the initials seemed familiar, but you couldn't quite place them. suddenly, your gaze drifted toward the librarian, stationed behind the circulation desk, her eyes fixed intently on the screen of her computer. her expression remained impassive, oblivious to the internal struggle unfolding within you. as you pondered the significance of the initials, a spark of mischief ignited within. the allure of uncovering the secrets hidden within the pages proved too great to resist. you glanced around the library, taking in the scattered patrons, each engrossed in their own pursuits. the soft hum of fluorescent lights above and the muted rustle of pages turned by other readers created a soothing background melody. no one seemed to notice your fascination with the book, or the growing intent to possess it.

seizing the opportunity, you carefully closed the book, ensuring no markers or slips were displaced. your movements became deliberate, measured. with a deep breath, you slipped the volume into your backpack, the soft thud of its impact muffled by the bag's contents. you zipped the backpack shut, the sound barely audible over the library's ambient noise. a thrill coursed through your veins as you swung the pack over your shoulder, the weight of the book now yours to bear.

with a casual air, you stood up, smoothing your clothes. the librarian remained absorbed in her work, unaware of the valuable item now concealed. you began a leisurely stroll toward the exit, heart beating slightly faster with each step as you approached the door.

you stepped out into the dark, unlit hallway, the stark contrast to the library's muted tones momentarily dazzling. the sounds of the vampiric world – muffled conversations, footsteps echoing off of the marbled floors – enveloped you. as you adjusted to the different light, your gaze drifted ahead, scanning the slightly crowded corridor. suddenly, a figure emerged from the sea of faces, his eyes locking onto yours with an unnerving intensity. you froze, heart skipping a beat after the act you just committed, as sunoo's familiar features coalesced before you. his usually calm expression was replaced by a look of determined urgency.

"where have you been?" sunoo asked, his voice high and laced with a hint of frustration. "i've been looking everywhere for you." you felt a jolt of surprise, your mind racing to reconcile the tranquil library atmosphere with the sudden confrontation. your hand instinctively tightened around the backpack's strap, the weight of the stolen book pressing against your shoulder.

"i... was studying," you stammered, attempting to mask the guilt rising to the surface. sunoo's eyes narrowed, his gaze flicking to the backpack and back to your face. "what's going on? you've been ignoring my texts." the air seemed to thicken between you, heavy with unspoken questions and suspicions. you sensed the precarious balance of your secret teetering on the edge, threatened by sunoo's probing gaze.

sunoo's expression transformed in an instant, his serious demeanor shedding like a mask. a mischievous smirk spread across his face, and his eyes sparkled with amusement. "did you do something naughty?" he asked, his voice dripping with playful insinuation, as he raised an eyebrow. the evil grin spreading across his face made him look like a troublemaker. you rolled your eyes, a laugh escaping your lips despite the nervousness still lingering from the stolen book's weight in your backpack. "shut up, before one of the staff hears you," you whispered, playfully swatting at his arm as you walked past him. sunoo chuckled, falling into step beside you. "oh, now i'm intrigued. what's in the backpack?" he teased, his eyes glinting with curiosity.

you quickened your pace, sunoo matching your stride. the corridors seemed to blur together as you navigated through the crowd, the sounds of students and teachers fading into the background. "nothing," you insisted, attempting to sound nonchalant. "just some books for an exam." sunoo snorted. "are you really trying to lie to me?" his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "yah, what is it?" you felt a surge of hesitancy, your grip on the backpack tightening.

"let's head back to our room," you suggested, eager to divert sunoo's attention and escape the prying eyes of the corridor. the fluorescent lights overhead seemed to hum louder, amplifying your desire for solitude. sunoo nodded, still wearing a hint of mischief on his face. "devil, youre so secretive." he shouldered his own bag, a faded black canvas with frayed straps.

once inside your dorm room, you locked the door, the soft click echoing through the cozy space. sunoo flopped into his coffin, sending his pillow tumbling to the floor. he picked it up, fluffing it before settling in. "alright, spill," he said, his tone a mixture of curiosity and amusement, as he leaned back against the headboard. the afternoon sunlight streaming through the window highlighted the messy strands of his dark hair.

you hesitated, weighing the risks of sharing your secret. but something about sunoo's genuine interest put you at ease. you settled onto your own bed, the worn wooden frame creaking beneath you. "i found this book in the library," you began, pulling the volume from your backpack. the leather cover creaked as you handed it to sunoo. "it literally kept falling off the shelf. i’d put it back and then it would be on the floor again." sunoo's eyebrows shot up, his eyes widening. "okay, thats.. weird." he said, tracing the embossed letters on the cover. you watched as he examined the book, his fingers running over the gilt edges. "oh! and the initials on the inside," you continued, "they seemed familiar, but i..i dont know, i feel like i know it." sunoo opened the book, scanning the yellowed pages. "looks old. really old. and thats saying something," he breathed, his voice filled with reverence. a look of disgust as he saw his hand was full of some dust.

the room fell silent, the only sound the rustling of pages as sunoo delved deeper into the book. you leaned against the desk, eyes locked on your friend, the shared secret forging a different type of bond between you. sunoo's gaze drifted up, meeting yours. "you think it's connected to…you?" his voice was barely above a whisper, the suspicion noticeable. you nodded, a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. "i do. i mean, its gotta be, right? it would be a hell of a coincidence. theres gotta be some kinda old ritual on it-" you ask unsure with sunoo’s hesitant eyes.

the door to the room slammed open, startling you both. sunoo's eyes snapped up from the book, while you jerked upright, heart racing. woonggi burst into the room, his face alight with mischief. "surprise!" he exclaimed, giggles bubbling from his lips. attached to his neck, clinging like a limpet, was a boy with a mop of messy black hair and bright, sparkling eyes. the boy's cheeks flushed pink as he gazed up at woonggi, his arms wrapped tightly around woonggi's neck.

sunoo's eyebrows shot up. "woonggi, what—" woonggi chuckled, spinning around to display his human accessory. "meet jihan, my new friend!" he announced, beaming. jihan's gaze darted between you and sunoo, his smile faltering for an instant before he buried his face in woonggi's neck. "woonggi, what have you done now?" you asked, shaking your head.

woonggi grinned. "rescued jihan from the clutches of boredom! he was wandering the halls, looking lost." sunoo closed the book, setting it aside. "could you not bring back strays?" he asked sarcastically while he crossed his legs and watched as the boy was swaying a bit due to being ‘vital drunk’. you had read about it before, especially with headmaster banning it from happening in the academy’s walls, yet it somehow always happens. the definition was something along the lines of; in which drinking from another undead causes them to have the same symptoms as consuming too much alcohol. you've also heard one of the main symptoms is arousal.

you shared a look with sunoo, a silent understanding passing between you like a spark of electricity. sunoo's eyes crinkled at the corners as he sprang into action, grabbing woonggi's arm and pulling him away from jihan. "time for a timeout, woonggi," sunoo said, his voice low and playful, tinged with a hint of warning. you stepped forward, gently but firmly taking jihan's elbow. your fingers wrapped around his slender arm, guiding him toward the door. "sorry, it's almost midday. you should head to your coffin by now." your tone was polite, but firm, with a subtle edge.

jihan's eyes darted to woonggi, who was now engaged in a mock-struggle with sunoo, laughing and pretending to escape. the sound of their playful scuffle filled the room, a stark contrast to the tension building inside you. "but... i didn't mean to intrude..." jihan stammered, his cheeks flushing pink.

you offered a small, reassuring smile, softening your expression. "no intrusion. really. but we have... studying to catch up on." your gaze flicked to the book on sunoo's bed, its leather cover gleaming in the sunlight. with a gentle tug, you guided jihan toward the door, the wooden floor creaking beneath your feet. he hesitated, glancing back at woonggi, who was now grinning mischievously.

"thanks for understanding," you said, opening the door. the hallway outside seemed to stretch out like a vast, empty canvas. jihan nodded, stepping out into the corridor. "sorry again..." his voice trailed off as he disappeared into the river of students flowing through the hall. you shut the door behind him, locking it with a soft click. the sound echoed through the room, a signal that your private sanctuary was once again secure. the silence enveloped you, a welcome respite.

woonggi's giggles intensified, his eyes shining with mirth as he gazed at sunoo. "you're so cute, sunoo," he cooed, attempting to pinch sunoo's cheeks. his slender fingers danced through the air, only to be swatted away by sunoo's swift hand. sunoo's face flushed a deep pink, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. "cut it out, woonggi." you rolled your eyes, shaking your head. the soft creak of the wooden floorboards beneath your feet echoed through the room as you stepped forward. "woonggi, focus. if the headmaster hears about this, we’ll all get it." but woonggi's attention remained captivated by sunoo, his grin mischievous and childlike. "just one little pinch?" he pleaded, his voice tinged with a playful whine.

sunoo's scowl deepened, his lips pressing into a firm line. "no." you intervened, walking over to woonggi. the faint scent of sandalwood wafted from his hair, mingling with the sweet aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingering in the air.

"here, lay down," you suggested, guiding woonggi toward his own red wood coffin. the soft sheets enveloped him like a cocoon. woonggi's arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into a gentle hug. "mmm, thanks," he hummed, his breath tickling your ear. "i'm so happy we're all friends. oh my gosh, and we're all so good-looking." his voice dripped with sincerity, each word infused with genuine warmth. woonggi's face hovered mere inches from yours, his warm breath mingling with yours. you could smell the faint scent of blood on his teeth, a subtle reminder of his true nature. you turned your head away, attempting to distance yourself from woonggi's intoxicating scent. but his proximity made your skin prickle, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.

woonggi's pupils dilated, his eyes resembling polished onyx, dark and depthless. his gaze seemed to pull you in, hypnotic and unsettling. the room around you melted away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time. "you're so pretty, jihan" woonggi whispered, his lips grazing your earlobe. the gentle touch made you revolt back, “ew, stop it. jihan left already.”

sunoo cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "woonggi, stop flirting."

woonggi chuckled, nuzzling into his pillow. "can't help it.” his voice seemingly innocent. "just rest," you reminded him, attempting to steer the conversation back on track. woonggi pouted, but settled onto the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. the soft mattress creaked beneath his weight. sunoo watched, a mix of amusement and concern etched on his face. "keep an eye on him," he whispered, his voice barely audible. you nodded, aware of woonggi's unpredictable nature. the shadows in the room seemed to deepen. the room fell still, the tension dissipating like mist in the morning sun.

you slowly closed woonggi's coffin, the soft creak of the wood echoing through the room like a mournful sigh. the darkness seemed to swallow him whole, leaving you with an unsettling sense of unease, as if the shadows themselves were watching. your gaze drifted to sunoo's bed, where the mysterious book lay, its leather cover worn and creased. you retrieved it, feeling the weight of its secrets in your hands. walking over to your desk and sat down, next to you, you turned on the small lamp, its switch clicking softly. but a spark flew from your hand, like a tiny lightning bolt, and the light bulb burst, sending shards of glass scattering across the desk.

"fuck... not again," you groaned, frustration etched on your face. you buried your head in your hands, the darkness closing in like a suffocating shroud. the spark's aftermath lingered, a tingling sensation in your fingertips. your mind replayed the incident, searching for answers. sunoo's footsteps echoed through the room, his calm demeanor a balm to your growing anxiety. he flipped the switch on his vanity desk, illuminating the space before him. the massive victorian mirror above his desk reflected the room, casting an eerie glow. its intricately carved frame seemed to dance in the light.

sunoo settled into his chair, beginning his nighttime routine. he removed his makeup with gentle wipes, revealing his natural complexion. "it's fine," he told you softly, his voice a gentle breeze on a summer's day. "we can get a new one tomorrow."

you raised your head, watching sunoo wipe away the last of his makeup. his eyes met yours in the mirror, his expression empathetic. he began his skincare routine, each step meticulous. the soft lapping sound of the cleanser, the gentle patting of his face dry.

"we shouldn't have to keep buying new ones," you sighed, disappointment weighing heavy. your gaze drifted to your hands, as if searching for answers. sunoo's eyes never left yours, understanding reflected in their depths. "it's not your fault," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. but you knew better. the sparks, the shattered bulbs – it was all connected to your... condition. a curse, some might call it. a reminder of the fragile balance within.

sunoo finished his routine, patting his face dry. "just focus on the book," he suggested, his tone light. you nodded, though your mind lingered on the broken light, a symbol of your fragile control. the room fell silent, the only sound the creaking of the old wooden floorboards beneath your feet. the shadows seemed to deepen.

sunoo's words hung in the air, a gentle reminder of the mystery waiting to be unraveled. the book, with its worn leather cover and yellowed pages, beckoned like a siren's call, its secrets whispering your name.

you took a deep breath, shaking off the lingering frustration. the scent of old paper and forgotten knowledge wafted up, transporting you to a world of ancient secrets. your mind wandered to the countless hours spent poring over dusty tomes, searching for answers. "what secrets do you hold?" you whispered, tracing the book's intricate title page. sunoo nodded, continuing to change into his night-wear while you were at the desk. you delved into the book's secrets, poring over ancient texts and cryptic symbols etched into the margins. the hours ticked by, the day deepening outside. the sun cast its yellow glow but couldnt be seen through the window, protected by the sun resistant curtains.

"what am i missing?" you whispered to yourself, frustration simmering beneath the surface. as you read, the words began to blur, your eyes straining from the dim light. sunoo noticed, his gaze flicking to your face. you poured over the pages, scrutinizing every word, every symbol. your pen scratched across the paper, jotting down notes and insights that had eluded you before. but despite your diligence, a nagging sense of disappointment grew.

you had hoped for a revelation, a hidden key to tame the unpredictable sparks within. instead, the book offered only familiar platitudes: "take deep breaths" and "think before acting." advice that, though well-intentioned, missed the mark. it was easy for others to offer solutions, but they didn't grasp the primal urge that coursed through your veins. the sparks that ignited within you were a force of nature, impossible to contain. with a sigh, you leaned back in your chair, rubbing the tension from your neck. hours of studying had taken its toll, your muscles protesting the prolonged hunch. your gaze drifted to the coffins, now closed and shrouded in silence. woonggi's and sunoo's peaceful slumber seemed a world away from your own turmoil.

when had sunoo retired for the night? you hadn't noticed, lost in the labyrinthine pages. twilight's soft glow now filtered through the windows, casting the room in a muted, ethereal light. the shadows seemed to deepen, emphasizing the stillness. the grandfather clock's gentle tick-tock echoed through the hallway, a reminder of time's relentless passage. your thoughts swirled, a maelstrom of frustration and longing. the book, once a promise of answers, now lay closed, its secrets insufficient. in the silence, your mind began to wander, seeking solutions in the darkness.

you revisited the scribbled notes in your notebook, re-reading the details as your eyelids grew heavy. the words began to blur, your focus waning. despite your best efforts, exhaustion crept in, seeping into your bones. your head nodded forward, your chin dipping toward your chest. the notebook slid from your grasp, pages fluttering shut. the soft thud echoed through the room, a gentle surrender. sleep claimed you, a silent thief stealing away your consciousness. the world outside receded, leaving only the gentle hum of the room's silence.

then, without warning, the early night academy chime pierced the air, its melodic tones echoing through the speaker embedded in the high ceiling. the sudden sound jolted you awake. grogginess clung to you, a lingering haze. you blinked, disoriented, as the chime's final notes faded away. the room's shadows seemed to shift, adjusting to the new time. outside, the sky was a deep shade of indigo, stars twinkling like diamonds scattered across the velvet expanse. the moon cast its silvery glow, illuminating the darkness.

you rubbed your eyes, shaking off the remnants of sleep. your mind slowly cleared, memories of the previous night's studies resurfacing. the notebook lay open on your lap, pages rumpled. your gaze fell upon the scribbled notes, and with a sigh, you began to review them once more.

woonggi pushed open his coffin with a groan, the creaking wood echoing through the room. "ugh, that stupid melody," he complained, his voice laced with sleep-induced irritation. "who told someone to make that?" you turned to face him, a small smile playing on your lips. woonggi's hair was a tangled mess, his usually impeccable style now resembling a bird's nest. his face was pale, with a hint of fatigue etched into his features. sunoo's coffin opened with a smooth, silent glide, a stark contrast to woonggi's dramatic exit. sunoo yawned, stretching his lean frame as he sat up. he removed his blue sleep mask, revealing bright, alert eyes. with a casual gesture, sunoo used the mask to push his blonde hair out of his face, the strands falling into perfect, effortless waves. his gaze met yours, and he offered a warm, sleepy smile.

"morning," sunoo said, his voice low and soothing. woonggi, still grumbling, swung his legs over the side of the coffin, his bare feet dangling in the air. "can't they change that awful chime? it's torture." you chuckled, shaking your head. "it's just a school melody, woonggi." woonggi shot you a mock-glare. "easy for you to say. you're not the one with sensitive ears." sunoo chuckled, standing up and stretching. "you're just grumpy because you didn't sleep well."

woonggi's scowl deepened, but a hint of amusement danced in his eyes. "i slept fine. that chime just ruined my beauty sleep." the room filled with the gentle sounds of morning routines: sunoo humming as he began his stretches, woonggi's muttered grumblings, and the soft creaking of the old wooden floorboards beneath your feet. woonggi groaned, stumbling out of his coffin with a graceless awkwardness that belied his usual elegance. his bare feet tangled in the hem of his pants, threatening to send him tumbling.

sunoo winced, his gaze drawn to woonggi's neck. two puncture holes marred the pale skin, surrounded by a web of purple veins that seemed to pulse with a life of their own. "oh, that's gross," sunoo exclaimed, recoiling in mock horror. "woonggi, please cover your neck before i throw up." he clutched his stomach, pretending to gag. you turned to witness woonggi's inspection of his reflection in the vanity mirror. his eyes widened in dismay as he took in the unsightly marks.

"ugh, he said he wasn't going to drink a lot..." woonggi whined, his voice laced with frustration and embarrassment. without hesitation, woonggi spun around, pleading eyes fixed on sunoo. "sunoo, can you please cover this up? i don't want to look like a pure-blood's snack all day." sunoo rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "fine, but next time remind your 'donor' to be more careful." he strode over to his makeup station, expertly gathering concealer and foundation.

you stiffled a chuckle as sunoo began shooting woonggi a knowing glance. woonggi's face flushed, but he remained silent, aware that sunoo was right. as sunoo began to work his makeup magic, woonggi's gaze met yours in the mirror. his eyes sparkled with mischief, and he mouthed, "he was worth it." you raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the unspoken story behind woonggi's provocative statement. "and you know what? that's why you don't give it away so easily!" sunoo scolded, his voice firm but laced with concern. "especially to pure-bloods!" he added, shaking his head, his gaze piercing. woonggi attempted to deflect sunoo's reprimand with a charming smile, but sunoo remained unyielding.

you watched the exchange, recalling the complexities of vampire society. half-bloods, like yourselves, occupied a unique realm – vampires born from the union of human and vampire, never fully dead, yet not entirely alive. the distinction was crucial. your human ancestry, courtesy of one mortal parent, ensured a vestige of life's essence coursed through your veins. the ones who shared that genetic distinction was you, sunoo, woonggi, and heeseung.

this contrasted sharply with pure-bloods, vampires untainted by human lineage. born from the transformative bite of another pure-blood, they knew only the eternal realm. names flashed through your mind – jay, shiloh, hyunwoo, and jihan – pure-bloods who embodied the unyielding, ancient power. but with that power came a daunting reality. to many pure-bloods, half-bloods were viewed as prey, sustenance for their unrelenting hunger. eternal academy, your supposed sanctuary, was also a hub for young pure-bloods to hone their control, to learn the delicate art of feeding without succumbing to their primal nature. your existence, a mere convenience for those who craved the vitality that flowed through your veins. sunoo's warning took on a deeper significance. woonggi's carelessness could invite danger, jeopardizing the fragile balance between half-bloods and pure-bloods.

fortunately, it is against all vampiric commandments to murder another vampire, half or pure. the consequences you had heard of were so severe, no one actually knows what happens when you get caught. luckily, there hasn't been an attack on half-bloods for over a century.

the delicate dynamics between half-bloods and pure-bloods grew even more complex when intimacy was involved. few half-bloods chose to share their vitality with pure-bloods, reserving this ultimate trust for those with whom they shared a deep, soulful bond. such bonds transcended mere attraction, forged through shared experiences, vulnerability, and mutual understanding. only then would a half-blood permit a pure-blood to partake in the sacred ritual of blood-sharing. but woonggi and many other young adult vampires reveled in a different thrill. they indulged in the reckless abandon of sharing their vital blood with anyone, often pure-bloods, without the anchor of a meaningful connection.

the rush of adrenaline, the intoxicating allure of danger, and the fleeting sense of belonging drove this hedonistic pursuit. woonggi's latest encounter was a stark reminder of this perilous game. sunoo's censure was not merely about the risks of pure-blood manipulation but also about the inherent value of their half-blood existence. by treating their blood as a commodity, woonggi and others like him undermined the very essence of their heritage.

"you're not just giving away your blood, woonggi," sunoo's unspoken words seemed to say. "you're compromising our dignity, our autonomy, and our future." the weight of sunoo's concerns settled upon you, a sobering reminder of the responsibilities that came with your half-blood legacy.

"ugh, you guys are such prudes," woonggi declared, rolling his eyes as he gestured towards you and sunoo. his voice took on a sultry tone, dripping with indulgence, as he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together. "i'm telling you, the feeling is amazing," he purred, lost in reminiscence, his eyes drifting shut. the soft glow of the lamp beside him danced across his features, highlighting the curve of his lips.

“plus, only pure-bloods will make you finish-” but woonggi's words trailed off as you abruptly slammed the book shut, the sound echoing through the room like a crack of thunder. you stood up quickly, your movements sharp, sending your chair scraping against the floor. sunoo's gaze dropped, his eyes widening as he spotted small blue electric bolts crackling from your shaking palm. the air seemed to vibrate with your contained energy, the hairs on your arms standing on end.

woonggi's expression transformed from seductive to concerned, his eyes locking onto the back of your head. then, his gaze drifted to your ears, flushed and burning with embarrassment, the tips reddening. "awe, y/n-ah is so cute when he gets flustered!" woonggi teased, his voice laced with amusement, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. sunoo relaxed, a soft smile spreading across his face. “for being so old, he still tries to remain innocent.” he chuckles.

woonggi's jest broke the tension, and you felt your flush deepen, warmth spreading across your cheeks. but sunoo's calm demeanor helped ease your embarrassment. "well, i don't know about y/n-ie," sunoo began, his voice confident, "but i've already figured out who i'm going to let have me." he stated, his head held high, his shoulders squaring. as sunoo gathered his makeup to conceal woonggi's puncture wounds, his words hung in the air. a quiet declaration, hinting at secrets and unspoken understandings.

woonggi's gaze lingered on sunoo, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "what? tell me you whore!" he asked, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. sunoo's smile grew enigmatic, his focus on the makeup. "that's for me to know, and you to guess," he replied, a hint of mystery in his voice. the air was thick with unspoken tensions, desires, and allegiances. the dynamics between half-bloods and pure-bloods seemed to shift, ever complex, like the shadows cast by the flickering candles. “it better not be jihan! he’s mine,” woonggi playfully punched sunoo, who rolled his eyes in response. “arent they all?” he mutters to himself.

seeking escape from the flustering conversation, you hastily declared, "i'm going to go shower and brush my teeth." the words tumbled out, a convenient excuse to flee the charged atmosphere.

woonggi's knowing gaze followed you, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "running away, y/n-ah?" he teased, his voice low and playful. sunoo, however, offered a sympathetic smile. "go ahead, we'll finish up here," he said, nodding toward woonggi's neck, where the makeup concealment was underway.

you seized the opportunity, beating a swift retreat to the bathroom. the door creaked shut behind you, enveloping you in a sanctuary of silence. as you turned on the shower, the warm water pattered against the tiles, a soothing melody that calmed your frazzled nerves. you let out a deep breath, feeling the tension ease from your shoulders. but your mind lingered on the conversation, woonggi's provocative words and sunoo's enigmatic declaration swirling in your thoughts. the dynamics between half-bloods and pure-bloods, already complex, seemed to grow more intricate by the day. you stepped under the shower's warm cascade, letting the water wash away your embarrassment and confusion. but the thoughts lingered, refusing to be rinsed away.

memories long buried began to resurface, like whispers from a forgotten past. flashes of your parents' tumultuous arguments flickered through your mind, the echoes of their raised voices still haunting.

your mother, a pure-blood vampire, had been cruel and heartless, her words cutting deep into your father's soul. he, a young human, had loved her with every fiber of his being, and you, their precious child, had been the unintended consequence of their brief union. but to your mother, you were merely a mistake, a reminder of her momentary weakness. she had wanted nothing more than a fleeting indulgence, never intending to be tied down by the constraints of love or family. your father, however, had been different. his love was pure, unwavering, and eternal. he had dreamed of building a life together, of marrying and growing old with the woman he adored.

but your mother had shattered those dreams, abandoning him when she realized his intentions. she had left, leaving behind a heartbroken young man and a vulnerable child. you had stayed by your father's side until his final days, cherishing every moment, every laugh, and every tear. oh, how you had wished you could have saved him, transformed him into a vampire like yourself, but that gift was beyond your power. it required a pure-blood's bite, and your mother was the only one who could have granted that mercy. but she had been absent, indifferent to your father's suffering. only when your father's life had faded did your mother return, reclaiming you as her own. you had spent centuries by her side, struggling to reconcile the love you held for her with the pain she had inflicted.

yet, despite her cold-blooded nature, you refused to emulate her emotional numbness. you had vowed to retain your humanity, your capacity for love and compassion, no matter how much the world around you seemed to value the opposite. the memories still stung, but you held onto them, reminders of the love that had shaped you and the resilience that had carried you through the darkness.

you walked back into your shared room, the door creaking softly behind you. the atmosphere was alive with hushed conversation, sunoo and woonggi's whispers immediately silencing as you entered. their guilty gazes met yours, and you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "you think heeseung will try to get back together with y/n…?" woonggi's unfinished sentence hung in the air.

resplendent in your ruby red and white school uniform, its expensive old satin fabric gleaming in the soft light, you scoffed. "you know, you can talk about him; i told you i'm over him." your dismissive tone belied the faint irritation simmering beneath. sunoo and woonggi exchanged hesitant glances before breaking into warm smiles. "i think heeseung still has feelings for you, for sure," woonggi declared, his eyes locking onto yours through the mirror's reflection. "so my guess is he's gonna try to rekindle with you." you shook your head, a sigh escaping your lips. "well, i definitely don't plan to speak to him. especially after yesterday." the memory of heeseung's actions still rankled.

sunoo turned to you, his expression transforming into a warm, reassuring smile. "well, let me do your makeup today; i'll make you look even more desirable than usual." his offer was a gentle distraction from the tension. you settled into the chair sunoo ushered you toward. "uh, i'll take your offer of doing my makeup, but just something for my dark circles; i didn't sleep last day." the exhaustion still lingered, a reminder of the previous night's turmoil.

sunoo's skilled fingers began to work their magic, gently concealing the evidence of your sleepless night. woonggi, now reclining on his bed, observed the process with interest. "you know, y/n-ah, you're even more captivating when you're tired," woonggi teased, his voice low and smooth. sunoo playfully rolled his eyes. "woonggi, stop flirting; i'm trying to work here." you laugh. the banter was a comforting reprieve, easing the tension that had settled over the room.

the three of you strode through the halls, a vision of elegance in your matching ruby red satin uniforms. the expensive fabric gleamed in the soft light, accentuating your refined features. sunoo's expert makeup artistry had transformed your tired eyes, erasing the evidence of your sleepless night. woonggi's styling skills had tamed your hair, now perfectly coiffed to frame your face.

together, you exuded confidence, your poised strides echoing through the corridors. the atmosphere was alive with the murmur of students, their whispers and glances acknowledging your group's striking presence. as you approached the grand auditorium, the din of conversation grew louder. the eternal academy's student body was gathering, eager to hear the headmaster's daily announcement.

you exchanged assured glances with sunoo and woonggi, your unity and friendship palpable. the trio of half-blood vampires, renowned for your striking beauty and unyielding spirit, commanded attention. heads turned as you entered the auditorium, pure-bloods and half-bloods alike regarding you with interest. jay, shiloh, hyunwoo, and jihan, the esteemed pure-bloods, watched from their privileged seats, their gazes lingering on your group.

heeseung, seated among them, caught your eye, his expression indifferent. yesterday's events still weighed heavily on your mind, but you refused to let his presence unsettle you. with sunoo and woonggi by your side, you claimed your seats, poised and prepared to face whatever the day might bring. the headmaster's voice, low and authoritative, filled the auditorium, silencing the chatter. "welcome, gentlemen, to another day at eternal academy. today's announcement concerns something very special! we have the absolute honor of now having three eldest sons from each of the three founding mothers that built eternal academy, now attending it!" headmaster barnabus announced, his voice swelling with pride. sunoo and woonggi's eyes met, their faces mirroring each other's surprise. they straightened, their gazes scanning the stage to catch a glimpse of the esteemed newcomers.

you, still dozing against woonggi's shoulder, remained oblivious to the commotion. the three eldest sons stepped forward, flanking the headmaster. with synchronized movements, they bowed, their handshake with the headmaster exuding refinement and wealth. sunoo nudged woonggi, his voice barely above a whisper. "wake him up, now.” woonggi nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the trio. his gaze lingered, drinking in their chiseled features and impeccable attire.

reluctantly, woonggi turned to you, gently shaking your shoulder. "y/n-ah, wake up," he whispered, his voice laced with urgency. as you stirred, sunoo leaned in, his voice low. "you won't want to miss this." your eyelids fluttered open, and you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. your gaze followed sunoo's and woonggi's, locking onto the three newcomers.

time seemed to pause as you took in their majestic presence. each man embodied the essence of their respected pure-blood lines: elegance, power, and an aura of nobility. one’s piercing gaze, the other’s chiseled jawline, and lastly one’s captivating smile – each feature was etched into your mind. the auditorium's atmosphere shifted, the air thickening with anticipation. the arrival of these three eldest sons signaled a new era at eternal academy.

"oh yeah, they're definitely hot," you yawned, your voice languid, still shaking off the remnants of sleep. sunoo's eyes sparkled, his gaze fixed on the trio. "like, so hot," he breathed, his tone reverent.

woonggi nodded vigorously, his voice barely above a whisper. "like, really, really hot." his eyes shone with awe, as if royalty had indeed descended upon the academy. the two were starstruck, their usual composure abandoned in the face of these captivating newcomers. you, however, felt a different sentiment brewing. while acknowledging the trio's breathtaking beauty, your exhaustion reasserted itself. the dull fatigue that had been lingering since the previous night now threatened to overwhelm you.

as sunoo and woonggi continued to swoon, you leaned back in your seat, suppressing another yawn. the grandeur of the auditorium, the esteemed pure-bloods, and even the allure of the newcomers faded into the background. your mind began to wander, craving the solace of a quiet nap, or better still, a peaceful retreat to your dormitory. the blood moon ball, the founding mothers, and the academy's intrigue temporarily lost significance. sunoo's elbow nudged you, his voice whisper-soft. "y/n-ah, are you okay? you look...dazed." you forced a weak smile, attempting to reassure him. but your gaze drifted back to the trio, their presence now a blur of elegance and refinement. “just sleepy.” you yawn again, “ill be fine.” you gave a smile to reassure him.

your eyelids drooped once more, surrendering to exhaustion, as the dull murmur of the headmaster's voice faded into the background. but sunoo's gentle shaking roused you from your slumber, his hand wrapped around your wrist.

"come on, get up, sleepyhead," sunoo urged, his voice soft but insistent, his breath carrying the scent of mint and coffee. you blinked, disoriented, and took in your surroundings. The grand auditorium, once filled with the murmurs of students, was now emptying, its ornate chandeliers casting a dim glow on the departing crowd. "done already?" you asked, still sleepy, stretching your arms above your head, feeling the soft satin of your uniform pull across your chest.

sunoo grinned, his eyes sparkling like polished onyx. "yeah, but hey, today's our free day, so let's go eat at that new café in the east wing. i heard they serve the best blood-red velvet cake." his enthusiasm was infectious, a testament to his love for learning – and indulging in the finer things in life. “then we can finish any assignments we have for the week too!”

few knew that sunoo's passion for knowledge was matched only by his penchant for mischief. his inability to follow mundane laws had landed him at eternal academy, a school notorious for reforming wayward vampires. his parents had discovered his secret: sunoo had a fascination with stealing clothing, always justifying his actions with a charming smile. "it would look better on me," he'd say, his eyes gleaming with mischief. the habit had grown troublesome, attracting unwanted attention from the vampire authorities. and so, sunoo's parents had enrolled him in eternal academy, hoping the structured environment, strict rules, and watchful eyes of the faculty would reform their wayward son.

as you stood, woonggi fell into step beside you, adjusting his cufflinks. "sounds good. i need to finish that paper on ancient bloodlines and their influence on modern vampire society." sunoo nodded vigorously, his light hair bouncing with the motion. "i've already started outlining my essay on the history of vampire diplomacy and its impact on human-vampire relations." you said, nodding your head. together, the trio made their way out of the auditorium, into the vibrant hum of eternal academy's daily life. the corridors bustled with students, their laughter and conversations filling the air.

as you stepped into the east wing's newest café, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods enveloped you, instantly reviving your senses. the soft glow of pendant lights and plush furnishings created a cozy ambiance, a welcome respite from the academy's grandeur. "welcome to 'midnight bites'!" a charming barista, with piercing emerald eyes and raven-black hair, greeted you from behind the counter. "what can i get for you gentlemen today?" sunoo's eyes scanned the menu, his brow furrowed in concentration. "i'll have the blood-red velvet cake, please. and a café au lait."

woonggi ordered a cappuccino and a slice of lemon tart, while you opted for a simple espresso and a croissant. as they prepared your orders, you claimed a corner table, surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the academy's gardens. "this place is lovely," sunoo said, settling into his seat. "i can see why it's become so popular."

woonggi nodded, his gaze drifting toward the café's patrons. "it's definitely a hub for the academy's elite." your eyes followed woonggi's, taking in the familiar faces. heeseung sat nearby, engaged in a heated conversation with hyunwoo. "looks like the pure-bloods have claimed this spot as their own," you observed, a hint of amusement in your voice.

sunoo smirked. "well, we're certainly crashing their party." the barista returned with your orders, expertly balancing a tray laden with delicate china and steaming cups. "enjoy, gentlemen." as you indulged in the rich flavors and aromas, the café's atmosphere wrapped around you, a warm cocoon of comfort and camaraderie.

but your tranquility was short-lived. a commotion near the entrance caught your attention – jay, the pure-blood patriarch, stood at the doorway, his piercing gaze sweeping the room. you glance and see jay quickly walk over to hyunwoo and heeseung. they seem to be having a hushed argument and jay seems to be moderating it. "wonder what theyre talking about.." woonggi trails off as he stares as well.

to say you were suprised to see them sitting at the same table would be an understatement. "oh, did you wanna study for that exam in two weeks?" sunoo asked woonggi, his voice infused with a hint of responsibility, as he delicately balanced his fork and cake.

woonggi shook his head, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "no way, it's in two weeks; that's plenty of time." his nonchalance was a stark contrast to sunoo's studious nature.

you tore your gaze away from heeseung, who was still engrossed in his conversation with hyunwoo, and refocused on your friends. their carefree banter was a welcome distraction from the tension simmering between you and heeseung. "you're going to regret that attitude, woonggi," sunoo teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "i'm already halfway through the study guide."

woonggi chuckled, his shoulders shaking. "i'll be fine, sunoo. i've got this." you smiled, feeling a sense of normalcy wash over you. moments like these, surrounded by friends and laughter, made the complexities of eternal academy's social hierarchy fade into the background.

as you sipped your espresso, the rich flavor grounded you, reminding you that not everything revolved around heeseung and his mercurial nature. "besides," woonggi continued, "we have more pressing matters to attend to. like finishing our assignments and enjoying white day."

sunoo's eyes lit up. "ah, yes! the day of love. we need to make sure our outfits are impeccable." your thoughts drifted to the upcoming event, the intrigue and politics surrounding it. but with sunoo and woonggi by your side, you felt a sense of reassurance. together, you could navigate the treacherous waters of eternal academy's social scene. just as the conversation was flowing smoothly, a voice interrupted your tranquility. "mind if i join you?" heeseung asked, his tone neutral, but his gaze piercing.

heeseung's gaze locked onto yours, his eyes searching for a spark of acknowledgment. but you refused to indulge him, instead leaning back into your chair with a deliberate nonchalance. you ripped a piece of croissant off, the flaky pastry crumbling between your fingers, and popped it into your mouth, savoring the buttery flavor. your eyes never left your plate, your gaze drifting down as if fascinated by the cutlery.

woonggi seized the opportunity to intervene, his voice smooth. "sorry, we're actually busy with..." but heeseung didn't let him finish. with a fluid motion, he pulled up a chair and sat down, his presence suddenly intrusive. he dragged his chair closer to you, his knee almost touching yours.

you rolled your eyes, a subtle gesture, but one that conveyed your annoyance. sunoo and woonggi exchanged a knowing glance, their faces neutral. heeseung's expression turned contrite, his eyes locking onto yours with a sincere intensity. "listen, i wanted to apologize about what happened yesterday," he began, his voice low and measured.

"i realized i acted like a jerk, and i shouldn't have. i wanted to apologize in person." his words hung in the air, awaiting your response. woonggi leaned in, whisper-shouting to sunoo beside him, ensuring heeseung caught the comment. "usually when someone apologizes to me, they bring me a huge bouquet of flowers." sunoo's eyes sparkled with mischief as he chimed in, taking a sip of his drink. "or expensive makeup." his voice was laced with playful nonchalance.

heeseung's gaze flickered to woonggi and sunoo, a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "i, uh, didn't think of that." you observed the exchange, your expression neutral, but a hint of amusement dancing in your eyes. heeseung's apology, though genuine, seemed to falter under woonggi's and sunoo's playful jabs.

"flowers or makeup wouldn't have made a difference," you said finally, breaking the silence. your tone was even, neither accepting nor rejecting his apology. heeseung's eyes searched yours, seeking reassurance. "i just wanted to make things right between us."

the tension around the table remained, but woonggi and sunoo's banter had shifted the dynamics. heeseung's apology now seemed less about reconciliation and more about easing his own guilt. "so, what exactly are you apologizing for?" you asked, your voice tinged with curiosity. heeseung's expression faltered, his eyes darting to woonggi and sunoo before returning to yours.

"you know..." heeseung trailed off, his eyes darting to sunoo and woonggi for assistance. but they deliberately looked away, feigning interest in their drinks and pastry. heeseung's hesitation was palpable. "..for making you upset when i... was teasing you." his words hung in the air, uncertain. you raised an eyebrow, gesturing for him to continue with a languid motion of your hand. "and?" you prompted, taking a sip from your espresso.

heeseung's eyebrows furrowed, "there's more?" his tone questioned whether he'd omitted something.simultaneously, sunoo and woonggi groaned, their faces contorted in disgust. "oh no.." they whispered to each other, looking away from heeseung. "you know, i love men, but gosh, they make it so hard," woonggi whispered to sunoo, shaking his head. sunoo fanned his face with his hand, nodding vigorously. "you got that right."

your smile wavered between amusement and annoyance. "you were going to apologize for humiliating me and claiming me in front of hyunwoo," you reminded heeseung, your tone laced with expectation. but heeseung's expression transformed, his jaw setting in defiance. "look, y/n, i really was making sure you weren't getting yourself involved with someone like him. i'm not going to apologize for that." he stood up, his hands raised in a defensive gesture. your eyes narrowed, crossing your arms as you leaned back in your chair. an eyebrow arched, scrutinizing heeseung's sudden reversal. "so, you're saying your actions were justified?" you asked, your voice dripping with skepticism. heeseung's face reddened, his eyes flashing with indignation. "i'm saying i'd do it again if it meant protecting you."

sunoo and woonggi exchanged a disbelieving glance, their faces reflecting your incredulity. "protecting me?" you repeated, your tone laced with disdain. "from what? myself?" the air around your table grew heavy with tension, heeseung's words hanging like a challenge.

the silence between you and heeseung stretched, a palpable tension filling the space. then, after a mere two-second stare-down, heeseung's resolve crumbled. he sank back into his chair, his expression resigned. "alright, alright. i apologize for... that." his voice trailed off, the words hesitant, as if he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge his mistake fully.

the pause was telling, his inability to articulate his wrongdoing speaking volumes. sunoo and woonggi exchanged a skeptical glance, their faces reflecting your own doubts. "that?" you repeated, your tone laced with incredulity. "you can't even say it?"

heeseung's eyes dropped, his gaze fixed on the table. "i apologized, didn't i?" his defensiveness was tempered by a hint of shame. sunoo leaned in, his voice low. "apologies require specificity, heeseung. otherwise, they're just empty words." woonggi nodded in agreement. "yeah, own up to it." heeseung's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with frustration. but he knew he'd overstepped. "fine," heeseung muttered, his voice barely audible. "i apologize for humiliating you and claiming you in front of hyunwoo without your consent." the words hung in the air, a begrudging acknowledgment of his mistake. you studied heeseung's face, searching for sincerity. his expression was contrite, but his eyes still held a hint of defiance.

"well then," you began, prepared to address heeseung's apology, but your words were cut short as the café doors swung open. your gaze drifted toward the entrance, and your breath caught in your throat. the three new boys strode in, their presence commanding attention. now that they were closer, you could appreciate their features. all three were tall and well-built, their broad shoulders filling out the black academy blazers. but it was the blazers themselves that caught your notice. you'd never seen that particular design in your 9 1/2 years at the academy. the embroidered crest on the sleeve seemed to shimmer in the light, signifying nobility. your eyes roamed over the trio, taking in their distinct styles.

one had black hair with subtle blonde highlights, styled in a sleek, pushed-back look that accentuated his chiseled features and impressive shoulders.

another had jet-black hair that cascaded down his forehead, partially obscuring his eyes. but his wire-framed glasses added a touch of vulnerability to his intense gaze.

the last boy's hair was the longest, a rich, soft brown that framed his face and the rest tucked behind one ear. his dark eyebrows provided a striking contrast, balancing the softness of his features with a hint of ruggedness.

heeseung's apology was forgotten in the face of this new distraction. sunoo and woonggi followed your gaze, their interest piqued. "oh my gosh," sunoo whispered, his eyes locked on the trio. woonggi's brow furrowed. "i've never seen them so up close before. i mean no one has really, since ya know, theyre families are always secretive," heeseung's gaze turned cold, his expression guarded. "they're probably just like the rest of the pure-blooded-idiots." he says with spite.

you rolled your eyes at heeseung, but before you could retort, his attention shifted to jay, who was approaching their table. unaware of the tension, jay turned toward heeseung, and their eyes locked in a silent standoff. the air seemed to vibrate with unspoken words. you'd almost forgotten heeseung's telepathic abilities, but now it was painfully evident. the two engaged in a wordless conversation, their faces reflecting the intensity of their mental exchange.

jay's expression turned frustrated, his jaw clenched. heeseung's gaze remained steady, but a hint of submission crept into his posture. after a few tense seconds, heeseung stood up, his movements deliberate. a sigh escaped his lips before he bowed at your table, his voice laced with formality. "gentlemen," he said, straightening up, "i've had such a lovely time, but now i must go."

with a measured pace, heeseung walked away, leaving your table in an uncomfortable silence.

"please do," sunoo muttered under his breath, his eyes tracking heeseung's departure. you couldn't help but laugh at sunoo's dry comment, the tension broken. woonggi chuckled, shaking his head. "well, that was awkward."

"let's not stare," sunoo whispered, his eyes darting toward the three boys as they ordered their food and scanned the café for a table. you indulged in one last glance, your gaze lingering on the nobles' chiseled features. then, feigning nonchalance, you began smoothing your hair. "or drool," you added under your breath, earning a disgusted look from woonggi. "oh, shut it," you hissed at him, playfully. woonggi retaliated with a mock-offended hiss, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"back to our white day plans," you said, changing the subject as you ripped another piece of your croissant. "ah, yes!" sunoo exclaimed, his excitement palpable. "what should we wear? should we do a theme together or just color coordinate?" sunoo's eyes lit up, his passion for fashion igniting. he only ever displayed such unbridled enthusiasm when discussing style. "theme, definitely," woonggi said, his brow furrowed in thought. "but what kind?"

"i was thinking 'midnight bloom'," sunoo suggested, his voice animated. "dark florals, velvet accents... it'll be stunning." your imagination began to whirl with possibilities. "i love it. and we can coordinate our outfits without matching exactly." the ryker brothers chose a table nearby, their presence subtly influencing the café's atmosphere. but your focus remained on the fashion discussion, lost in the thrill of planning the perfect white day ensemble. "we need to make a statement," sunoo declared, his eyes shining with creative fervor.

“how about white instead?” you suggested, exhaling frustration. “i feel like i’ve been wearing too many dark clothes.” woonggi’s brow furrowed, lost in thought. “that’s true, and we also haven’t worn white all together since…” his voice trailed off, seconds ticking by before he shrugged. sunoo’s face fell, his creative vision crumbling. “ugh, you guys love to tear down my creativity,” he muttered, crossing his arms and eye-rolling dramatically.

you felt a pang of guilt for crashing sunoo’s plans and sought to make amends. “how about we wear white but with white floral prints and velvet accents still?” you proposed, rubbing sunoo’s arm to lift his spirits. sunoo pretended to ponder, his expression thoughtful. then, a sly grin spread across his face. “come on! we’ll look so innocent and hot. you know pure-bloods love that crap.”

woonggi seized the opportunity, shaking sunoo’s shoulder pleadingly. “think about it, sunoo – we’ll be the epitome of elegance, and they’ll be green with envy.” sunoo’s resistance crumbled, his excitement reigniting. “alright, alright! white with floral prints and velvet. but we’re doing it my way.” the tension dissipated, replaced by the thrill of planning the perfect white day outfits. as you delved into the details, the new boys nearby presence became a subtle backdrop, their quiet conversation weaving into the café’s ambient hum.

“we’ll need to coordinate accessories,” sunoo said, his mind already racing with design possibilities. “and hairstyles,” you added, your eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. your laughter intertwined with theirs, creating a joyful melody that lit up your table. the rest of the time was spent with studying and friendship bonding, the new boys can wait til tomorrow.

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lunarw0rks · 2 years ago

Text

Through The Ashes | Alternate Ending

Summary: You've been given an offer to join the 141 Task Force. Upon taking it, you find yourself ensnared with the mysterious masked man who won't take his eyes off you.

Warning(s): canon-typical violence, mild injuries/gore, gun mention, suggestive content (18+), fluff

A/N: for those of you who desired a sunnier ending, here you go! This was requested by @redhoodsupergirl. the bold text is a passage from the original. I apologize if this is Bestie!Soap erasure h/j (I didn't know how to fit him in)

❥ y'all should comment where you think y/n went during leave, and if you think she ever came back | Word Count: 2.4k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST ORIGINAL ENDING // requests | ao3 ver. | playlist

Alternate Ending

“Good to see you boys again.” The glitched voice emitting through your wire stops you dead in your tracks. You place a hand on Ghost’s shoulder, yanking him to a stop so you can hear it further.

When he does, he sprints to the other side of the large room, checking the entrance and windows for any sign of hostiles.

You look at him wide-eyed, as the line goes dead again. Graves had patched into your frequency and clogged it so you couldn’t reach your team. Whatever he was planning before, it’s here now and there’s no time to stop.

Your earpiece unexpectedly picks up the frequency again when you reach the middle of the dining hall. It gargles out a few words that you can’t understand, and then it emits a high-pitched shriek so boosted it makes you keel over and rip it out.

Ghost moves quicker than before, as your hurried steps try to catch up with him, your boots echoing with each careful stride—as if to not get your foot caught in any of the uneven patches of flooring.

The glass on the chandeliers began to rattle, as did the glassware packed away in boxes. You felt the floor vibrate, and the tarps over the exposed drywall began to whoosh. The electricity flickered as a loud whoosh of a jet passed overhead. The lights exploded into sparks, making you cover your ears for cover.

You had no time to get any closer to the door before the force of a nearby explosion knocked you to the hard ground. The world around feels like it’s been tilted on its axis, and your vision is doubled. You see Ghost already scrambled to his feet, and he’s outstretching his hand to help you up.

You reach for it and just barely brush against his fingertips. When you’re too sluggish, he clasps your upper arm and jerks you toward him, just barely getting you upright.

Another jet passes overhead, and the sound of the engine fills your ears once more. When another bomb drops, it’s closer than the last. You knock into one of the pillars, losing your balance again. A clamorous groan of the building causes him to lose his grip on you, and you’re knocked down again, fading in and out of consciousness.

Ghost comes to, and looks around at the rubble before him. The section you ended up on was completely blocked by walls and exposed cables that shot sparks every few seconds. Besides those, the night sky was his only guide, casting a blue tint on the hotel now in pieces.

“7-1, this is Ghost, how copy?” He spoke into his radio, hoping to hear yours going off in the distance.

“Frequency’s shot…” He growled under his breath, tightening his lip in concentration. Not only was he down his comms, you were on the other side of the rubble, or God forbid, already gone.

Wherever you were, he was going to find you. You weren’t going to fight this alone, no matter what ambush Graves had planned.

He raised his rifle, sweeping the remains for any signs of Graves’ men. His ears were trained on any sound of life, enemy or not.

The place was quiet—too quiet, for his liking. Either his entire team was dead, or another fiery pass was coming.

The only way to the other side of the dining hall was climbing through one of the vents he spotted by the stairs if there was one remaining after the blast. He crept through the doorway, keeping his strides near silent as he made it to the stairwell, which was missing its bottom half now, nearly disconnecting the entire upper level of the building.

He spotted the vent and hoisted himself up on it using the front desk. He felt around inside, making sure it was stable enough to let him crawl through. His rifle went in first, then his upper half.

He inched his way through the tight squeeze, grunting at the strain it was putting on his ribs. He knew that pinching pain, he’d cracked a rib when the second pass sent you both astray. There was no time to whine, he kept army crawling through the vent, finally seeing the literal light at the end of the tunnel.

He made it to the other side, finally around the large lumps of rubble. He slung his rifle back to its previous position as he crept through the dark space, dodging the broken furniture and turning to ash before his eyes.

Finally, he heard the faint gurgling of a radio in the distance, meaning you had to be nearby, or at least your radio was.

His rifle lowered when he saw an arm sticking through one of the chunks of concrete, your full frame covered by a china cabinet that luckily was being held up by one of the remaining pillars. He’d never moved faster, shoving the cabinet aside like it was nothing to him.

His sore ribs screamed as he tore through the decay, finally revealing you to him.

He let out an audible sigh, seeing that you didn’t end up in the gruesome state he was imagining you in when your hand left his. Besides being banged up, it seemed only your foot had been nailed by the wreckage.

He knelt beside you, pressing his two fingers to find a pulse. Faint, but there nonetheless.

“Ghost, what’s your status?” His radio chimed, forcing him to take his attention off you for a few moments. “Ghost, do you copy?” The voice repeated.

“This is 7-1 Ghost responding, solid copy. One injured, working towards an exit strategy now.”

He engaged back, only keeping himself composed because he knew he had a job to do. You. It was his job to get you out of here, and he’d be dead before he failed that job.

Your eyes opened only a small amount at the sound of his rough voice. You were too out of it to be of any assistance, or to figure out what the hell happened for that matter.

When you tried to move yourself out of the odd position you were in, he pinned you by the shoulders. “Don’t move your legs.” He muttered, scanning the situation around him for a way to jack the rubble up and free the foot.

You had no choice but to lay there, coming in and out of prudence. The only pain you felt besides a small headache, was a persistent compressing sensation in your right foot.

He managed to use one of the boards as a jack, hiking the block up enough to shove your foot out from under it.

You groaned at the sudden release of its pressure, which only unleashed the pain the lack of blood flow was preventing. At least you knew your foot still had some nerves left, if you were in a position to think of the silver lining.

“Lean on me, Sergeant.” He wrapped his arms around you, using all his strength to get you upright. There was no way you’d be putting weight on your leg, so he not only had to guide you out of here, but now he had to find an exit.

Your head fell forward as he practically dragged you along, unable to hold any part of yourself together.

“I got you…” He kept repeating it as if he was also comforting himself. He pulled out his sidearm, keeping it at the side with his free hand.

He squinted into the void, finding a patch of wall that had a hole big enough for the both of you. That was his best bet.

There was no guarantee this “convoy” would be out there waiting for you two, in position to neutralize the two of you the second he crawled through. That was the risk he was willing to take.

Worst case; you looked mangled enough, that if he needed to shield you while being pumped with bullets, there might be a chance of you passing for a dead body.

“7-1, approaching the South side. Is it clear?”

“All clear. No sign of hostiles since the blast.”

He threaded himself through first, scanning the hillside to be sure of its safety first just in case. He leaned through wrapping your arms around him first, then lifting you so you would have to put pressure on the leg.

When you’re both through, he slithers down the tattered village, looking for any sign of the team.

He spotted the emergency lights in the distance, finally finding the triage center Price set up. When the superior turns his head, seeing Ghost’s outline carrying your unconscious self, he runs over, helping to distribute some of your dead weight.

“Leg injury, concussion too,” Ghost spoke in a pressurized tone as you were passed along to the medics. Price watched Simon with concern, privy to his attempts at hiding his own injuries—he’d done it many a time before.

Captain Price replied sternly, making sure the entire Task Force was at his attention.

“I want us all out of here before Graves gets a hold of another bloody missile. We’re going to recover, and then come at him hard.”

—

The four hours it took for your surgery to finish, he spent pacing in his dorm, despite the nurse’s orders to stay off his feet. He did indeed have a rib fracture, and he was lucky that’s all had, according to the medics.

A soft knock at his door halted his anxious pacing, making him hastily open the door. He was greeted by Price, whose professional poker face wasn’t doing Simon’s unnerve any favors.

“Hospital called me. The surgery went just fine, but they’re keeping her for observation.”

If he wasn’t so experienced in keeping his composure, he would’ve jumped into his car and driven there that second. Price kept the announcement short, and continued on his way back to his office.

Despite whatever came of all of this, you were out. He’d gotten you out, and you were now free to get out of this hellhole before it swallowed you.

That look on your face when you asked him about the violence, and how everyone else carried on like it wasn’t making them sick to their stomach.

That look was the reason you needed out of this life. He wouldn’t deny your skills as an operator for a minute, but you weren’t broken like he was. Not yet. If you were to have second thoughts about stress leave, he’d push you out the door himself. Nearly losing you today was enough convincing.

—

Simon stared blankly out the window of the bar he’d picked out.

Every vehicle that pulled into the lot made him straighten his posture, hoping it would be you each time. Finally, a taxi pulled in, and he saw your familiar figure step out. The dim lights on the entrance didn’t do much to reveal your state to him as you passed the windows, making your way towards the entrance.

The ding of the bell above the door makes him set his bottle down and lift the scowl off his face.

“Thought you wouldn’t show.” He said as you approached the booth, a large cast on your right leg, and a few scrapes in the process of healing.

“Why not? You pulled me out of a burning building, L.T.” You carefully tucked your leg into the booth, shifting in the cushion to get comfortable. The limited movements were something you still needed to get used to, but you were glad to even have a leg.

“Simon.” He says, making you lift your eyes from the menu. “You’re not under me anymore.” The last sentence sounded like a justification as if that wasn’t his real reason for letting you use his name.

If you had told your past self, the newbie with a fresh hatred for him, that you’d be sitting in a bar having a civil conversation—you’d have thrown a fit.

The drink he ordered for you arrived; a stout, of course.

“How’s the pain?” He asked, attempting to mask his concern as he finished off his pint.

“Burns sometimes… but other than that, no nerve damage.” You responded, resting your chin on your fist.

“Shouldn’t put a damper on your vacation then, right?”

You chuckled at his attempt at humor. “Not on my watch. I’ll be relaxing with one leg up the entire time if I can help it.”

His eyes scanned you in an up-and-down fashion as you sneered—like you’d noticed him doing many times before. At least this time it wasn’t lustful or hateful, it was civility.

You both enjoyed a few drinks, keeping up the friendly banter through the entire evening. As the bartenders began wiping down tables and flipping chairs, he placed a bill on the table and walked you to the door.

You turned on your phone, checking the time. “I should get going. My flight was pushed to to tomorrow morning.”

“I can drive you, in the morning?” He proposed, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

You smirked and stepped a little closer. “I think we’re past sharing car rides with one another, Simon.” You had flashbacks to the last time he drove you somewhere, which only ended in a very risky hookup.

You could picture the reddened cheeks he had, even through the mask. His mouth said nothing in response, but his eyes had a way of uttering the words ‘Touché’ at your brazen remark.

He’d die at the chance of touching you again, but you weren’t in any position physically; emotionally, you were right about one thing—the impure mistakes you two made on your journey to this point.

You opened the taxi app you’d used previously and arranged your ride back to the hotel, exchanging glances with him as he watched you. You slid your phone into the pocket of your wallet, waiting patiently for your ride.

Like many times before, the silence between you two was more than enough conversation. Though there were thoughts racing through his head the entire time, he wasn’t sure where to start.

The crunch of the gravel under the taxi’s tires woke you both up, making you turn to one another for your farewell. A hug too innocent, a handshake too professional, and words unjust.

As you approached the car door, he cleared his throat to get your attention. He’d be damned if he didn’t get this out of his system before you leave the Task Force and possibly never see him again.

“Did you bring your files with you?” He asked, making you contort your brows in confusion. Files?

“The number listed on mine,” he began, shifting in his stance as he gathered the courage for his brave finish.

“You should call it.”

TAGLIST: @neoarchipelago @ghostlythots @gothgirl6-6-6 @cloudyyjanee @ladyelissarose @almightywdm @glitterypirateduck @brokenghostgirl1 @cheyenne-with-a-c @a-jupiter-n-mars-blog @liliumbosniacum (if you're not tagged it's not letting me)

#simon riley x reader #mw2 fanfic #mw2 #call of duty #ghost mw2 #task force 141 #simon riley #simon riley fluff #simon riley angst #task force 141 x reader

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aihoshiino · 9 months ago

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chapter 148 thoughts!

New chapter! New arc! New - Osh no Beach Episode?! Uh - sure, fuck it! Why not!

Chapters Since The 143 Kiss Happened And Went Completely Unacknowledged And Unaddressed Count: 5

It felt weirdly jarring to realize it was late summer in series for some reason lol… I think it's a combo of it still being pretty chilly here in the UK and me just having entirely lost track of the passage of time while we were in Movie Arc Purgatory.

I actually don't have a ton to say about this chapter as it's kind of just an echo of what we got with 138; a little breather beat between emotional upheavals that sets up the oncoming drama at the end. I definitely think it does so less gracefully than 138 and I ultimately enjoyed it less. That's not to say it's a bad chapter and watching everyone have goofy fun in the sun was cute - it just didn't quite Hit in the way I was itching for, especially after last chapter was… well, the way it was. There's some stuff I have to complain about which I think will make this post read as more negative than it maybe is, but it's one of those chapters where the good stuff doesn't really warrant a lot of comment other than 'i liked it'.

On that note, things I liked: everyone hanging out was really cute! I was honestly hoping we'd get more interactions like this during the Movie Arc with everyone scrunched together onto a single project but I'm happy to see it now.

Gotanda being being Dads With Cats this chapter was also really cute. It's a throwaway line but that little lore crumb of him having been looking forward to starting a family at some point is… honestly really sad and interesting? I think it adds a lot to the way he takes to Aqua and looks out for Kana, on top of the way he throws himself into his art.

frill taking a big ass break between projects is really good, too. i hope she has a very good time doing absolutely nothing.

that said. the fact that the only time we've gotten an acknowledgement of ruby and taiki's sibling relationship in the manga after like 80+ chapters is him making a comment about her tits makes me want to put aka akasaka through a pasta maker.

but no, for real. joking aside. Taiki and Aqua's relationship and Taiki going from being standoffish to accepting Aqua as his younger brother is one of the more understandably sweet relationship arcs in the series and it feels like a waste that we didn't get anything similar for him and Ruby. In general, Ruby is starting to feel very isolated from the rest of the cast which I'm not a fan of.

frill's full body wetsuit was a god tier joke though i gotta admit

Kana hyping herself up to flirt so overtly with Aqua was… funny, if a bit weird, especially given the note the chapter ends on. But Akane going right in and getting all over her thighs. holy shit, girl.

tsukuyomi at the beach what will she do

Akane's chat with Aqua also made my ears perk up in the way it continues a theme established by 143, of Aqua being challenged on his dedication to his self destruction by the people around him. Ruby and Kana were able to poke and prod at the issue but Akane, having the full picture as she does, is able to more directly shake Aqua and point out what he has to lose. In trying to self destruct, he will only end up destroying the thing he's trying to protect.

Also worth pointing out; Aqua is back to double black hoshigans as of this chapter which seems to line up with my thoughts on them representing his wavering dedication to his revenge play.

And then Kana….. whooooooooooo boy.

Like I said earlier, this ending feels super jarring off the back of both the last AQKN interaction and Kana's attempted flirting in this very chapter. As part of her overall arc, I think it makes sense but within the scope of this chapter it's too abrupt and lacks any real trigger. I can assume she saw AQAK talking to each other and made some assumptions but we don't actually see it. As it's presented in the comic, Akane basically walked up to her and triggered a cutscene lol

It is interesting to me that we're getting this overt push towards romantic resolution happening now given that… well, I'm not keeping that 'chapters since 143' count going just for goofs. I'm honestly torn between frustrated and darky amused at how much of a nothingburger 143 has turned out to be in the long run given that its only persistent status quo change (Aqua's white hoshigan) has fallen back by the wayside again. Neither Ruby or Aqua are acting like anything at all has happened. Literally right now it feels like you could skip 141-143 completely and not miss anything. It's baffling and it really does feel like that kiss was used as cynical reaction bait. Ruby's feelings are being treated with little to no respect and I'm honestly tired of it.

Obviously we're going to be getting some future resolution eventually because any Aqua-related romantic resolution is going to end up dragging Ruby into things but man. The fact that THIS is how Akasaka is choosing to drag it out is just insane to me. What was even the point of that kiss if it was going to have literally no impact on either character or the status quo whatsoever?

As for what this means for relationships… who even knows at this point. If you put a gun to my head and forced me to make a call, I'd say that in a romance manga, this would make me very confident in a Kana endgame. 'Girl tries to selflessly give up her love' is a pretty huge 'winning' flag in these kinds of situations. But Oshi no Ko is not strictly a romance manga and there's so much other relationship baggage floating around, who even knows what this is all going to mean. You could tell me this is the flag for an Aqua/Minami endgame or something and I wouldn't be surprised at this point.

At least we'll find out next week, assuming Akasaka doesn't offscreen the rest of this talk lol

#oshi no ko #oshi no posting #chapter reviews #onk spoilers

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inafieldofdaisies · 1 year ago

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WIP Whenever (since I'm way late for a Wednesday check-in)

Popping in with a new OC reveal this week, mwah. Meet Sébastien as he runs headfirst, or shall I say falls, into trouble.

"And above all, keep your feet and legs together.", the faint droning of the instructor rang in the background as Sébastien regarded the picturesque scenery below him through the opening of the small plane, "You listenin'?" He let out a chuckle before sending a smile the man's way, same one he would offer his father's investors anytime he'd be forced to sit into a meeting with them and pretend he knew all about running their family business. "Of course, m-", he racked his brain, trying to remember a name, first or last, anything, at the end coming up empty, "my dear newfound friend." The bored look he received as a reply wasn't promising, but he wasn't there to impress anyone, rather than seconds away from plummeting down from 10 000 feet up, if luck had it, gracefully and without a hitch. "You sighed the waiver.", the man muttered under his breath before continuing, "From your demeanor, I take it you're not worried?" "No.", Sébastien lied as he braced against the side of the plane, completely suited up, wondering if the truth would stop him from his most recent adrenaline seeking spontaneous trip. His forged license ensured him passage, a seat on the plane, almost making him forget he had to also act the part, doubting money would slay the person in front of him with how much weight he put on the rules even before take-off.

"Good.", a mumble sounded from the front, followed by a wave from their pilot aimed at the instructor. "-clearance.", he strained his ears, trying to catch whatever the two were hunkered down and whispering about. "Okay. Showtime, Mr. King.", it took him a lot of willpower to not instinctively correct the fake name he had given upon meeting the man and signing a stack of documents before his dive. His father would always talk about how much pride he had to have in the Gallagher-Kerring name, the legacy it carried, same one that gave people a pause and made it super easy for him to be tracked down. "I thought we weren't due for a couple of more minutes?", checking his watch was close to impossible, with all the gear he had on, but eventually he managed to confirm his suspicion. The scenery wasn't of much help location wise with the fields and various small structures scattered between winding roads signaling, he could have been anywhere over Montana. The body of water they passed reminded him he wasn't exactly listening to that part of the lecture. Just aim for anything that's not water. Easy. "Time flies.", was all the instructor offered before bracing his hands on his hips, "Usually we would need the equipment back by Friday, or else you lose the deposit, but seeing how you have your own and didn't request retrieval…" "That won't be an issue?" The plan was to skydive, land near Missoula, maybe hitchhike there if he felt extra adventurous. Everything he wore was practically brand new, purchased after he had stormed the closest specialized store he could find the moment he had left the most recent gathering Frank Gallagher-Kerring had bestowed upon him. The bright yellow and black piece covering his lean body wasn't exactly his first choice, but he was assured it was the best and most expensive one they had.

"Yeah. Any further questions, Mr. King?" "No. Thank you.", he paired the words with another grin while wishing for the man to already stop talking. With a final clearance and another quick whisper session with the pilot, Sébastien found himself threading air, all his instincts screaming at him he would die. Instead of listening to the pesky voice, he focused on his surroundings and how the small dots that were in reality trees and other buildings became large, closer as he spread his limbs face-to-earth to avoid spinning out and actually making true on that fear. "I'm alive!", he screamed on top of his lungs, absorbing as much of the giddy sensation as he could. There always came a time during whatever dangerous endeavor he partook where his mind would seem so much clearer, though usually he had others with him, drowning out the tranquility. "3000 feet.", the altimeter attached to his helmet announced, kicking him back into action as he recalled his instructor's word about the moment he needed to open his parachute. His right hand grasped the rip-cord while his left came to rest across his waist. A sudden jolt followed as the canopy unfolded, making his breath hitch. He pushed through the shock as a satisfied smile spead over his features. "Piece of cake.", he muttered while his eyes zeroed on a white shape speeding down one of the roads he could see from his position. He had no idea how much time passed where he descended towards the clearing he believed was good enough for a landing with the alternative of ending up in one of the trees nearby, slightly worrying him.

Then he felt it, trying to convince himself the adrenaline was playing tricks on him - something flying past him as smaller forms that looked almost like ants came into view. Whatever calm had taken over his body left him at once when the whoosh happened again, followed by another. A stinging sensation registered in his arm as he gripped his parachute risers tighter. His gaze widened in horror at the tear in his suit as another bullet flew past and missed him. The multiple holes marrying the previously intact material of the bright yellow and black canopy only fueled it. "No fucking waaaaay.", he let out a string of curses as panic swooped in together with the realization he was being shot at. That the shapes that previously looked like ants were people with guns and coming in closer as he descended down. In his attempts to avoid getting killed by something that had nothing to do with his questionable choices, he focused on the road next to the clearing, hoping the maniacs would let out if he landed outside of what he assumed was their private property they were so dead set on defending from an innocent skydiver. Their angry yells mixed until they were indistinguishable as he began plummeting down faster thanks to his parachute being turned into swiss cheese. The wind worked in his favor somewhat, granting him a lead on his pursuers. More bullets flew, all missing him by mere chance, making him glad whoever those men were they certainly had worse aim than him at his very first shooting lesson his father had dragged him to when he was but 10.

"Come on. Come on, baby.", he chanted as his luck ran out and his hopeful descent turned nightmarish, faster, out of control. It was becoming clear making it to the safety of the road wasn't in the cards for him when his trajectory shifted dramatically despite him trying his hardest to keep steady. "FUCCK.", ripped out of his throat as he calculated his chances of making it over the tree line separating the fields from the road. No way. It was going to take a miracle. All he could do was close his eyes while his elbows locked together to instinctively protect his face from the incoming collusion. A part of him wondered if he should pray, if anything would even consider saving him with his track record of mayhem. "I wanna live. I'd donate all my money if I have to.", spilled out as a promise, thought he meant just the first part, letting go of his usual lifestyle felt impossible, out of the question. It's all he had and considered deserving off after surviving being raised by a Gallagher-Kerring. Sébastien had no idea how his landing actually unfolded as he kept his eyes shut, chanting reassurances under his breath, all he knew was that one second he was facing certain death, the next he felt his parachute hook onto something. "What the-", he could still hear faint shouts behind him, as his harness pulled at his body, feet dangling uselessly midair instead of touching the ground below, "I'm alive? Fuck. Gotta move." His hands shook as he grasped at the buckles, willing for his fingers to cooperate and undo them before whatever advantage he had on his attackers would vanish entirely.

"It's not that high. Nope.", he lied to himself, feeling idiotic for fearing such small drop after having literally dove out from a plane and risked his life for thrills. He held his breath as the final straps keeping him suspended gave way and gravity brought him down, his not so graceful but loosened stance softening his fall to a degree. With racing heart he relaxed into the grass beneath him, his victory becoming shortlived as he looked up and met a pair of angry eyes, then his gaze lowered, stopping at the rifle cluthed in the bloody grip of the unkept man looming above him. "Friendly, kind sir.", he whispered and shimmied back until his helmet made contact with something solid. It's just a big stone. Yeah. Not a leg connected to a person. It's what went through his mind despite suspecting reality was different and granted, when his head twisted to glance at what he had run into in his attempt to retreat, another just as equally furious seeming man greeted him by sneering his way. He would have bet a good chunk of money they were brothers, with the one behind him looking like he had been eating his vegetables and then some. "Fried-", a hand pulled him to his feet like he weighted nothing and made the word die before it formed fully, especially with how the longhaired Berserker wanna-be was holding onto his helmet, making him wonder if his grip would squish his head if nothing stood in its path. The fact he was taller than Sébastien didn't help, either. "We should call this in. Otis, get me Brother John on the line.", the shorter brother barked an order, attention shifting past the two. And then there were three?

His captor let out a low grunt, "We should, Bo… but he said he is to not be bothered today. Under any circumstance." "With the exception of anything related to the Deputy.", a third voice presumably belonging to Otis added, or at least it's what he hoped - that he wasn't about to be surrounded by a whole gang of trigger happy locals that took trespassing way too seriously. I wasn't even touching the ground. His hand inched up to his face, aiming for the clasp under his chin while Bo rubbed his dark beard, contemplating their options. "This Sinner fell from the sky.", he pointed his rifle at Sébastien, making him hold his breath in anticipation of the worst, "What if this is part of the Father's prophecy? A sign?" Sinner? Father? WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING? Did I travel back in time? Sébastien forced a laugh, "It's called skydiving, have you people not heard of it? You know, plane, jumping, freefalling, then parachuting the rest of the-" The Berserker shook him in warning, its threatening tone not halting his concealed efforts at freeing himself, "SHUT UP." "Sorry. Just-" "I said shut your mouth, Sinner before you become an Angel.", the sentence was uttered through gritted teeth, before the man addressed his shorter look-alike, "Or the Sinners are sending in reinforcements, airdropping them, hoping we'd be caught off guard." Like I have a chance at taking you all out. I've been hitting the gym, but not that HARD. "Call this in, Otis. Brother John would like to know.", Bo concluded with a nod.

The second the command was spoken out loud, the clasp securing the helmet to Sébastien's head came undone. Before any of the three men could blink, he was making a run for it, discarding the piece of equipment as years of running track in highschool came back to him, but instead of running to impress his father, he was running for his life. "GRAB HIM.", the scream Bo released pushed him to speed up, his calves and whole body really aching from the fall while his eyes remained glued ahead, knowing glancing back would do him no good. Only add to his raising panic, feeding a different level of adrenaline. With the rustling behind him signaling the nearing recapture, he vaulted the fence that stood between him and freedom, leaping onto the road and almost getting ran over by a white truck in the process. His hands rose up as to shield him as Sébastien saw his life flash before him for a second time that day before whoever was behind the wheel hit the breaks hard, forcing the vehicle to an abrupt stop inches away from him. "I'M CROSSING HERE, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.", he yelled and hit the truck's hood for good measure, and he would have been embarrassed by how high pitched the words were, if he wasn't absolutely furious. I'm a Gallagher-Kerring. His brain didn't even fully register the strange cross painted on the vehicle or how it matched the one on his pursuers' sweaters. "Get down.", a deep voice responded before a shot rang out and he ducked without a second thought, scrambling towards the side of the truck as bullets began flying. A rumbling noise sounded from the treeline, followed by a red light exploding in the sky. A flare.

Sébastien watched in horror, suspecting more trouble was headed his way when the gunfire died down as fast as it had started. "Hey.", a door slammed shut, making him move further away from the passenger's side of the truck while the same voice from before added, "You alive, jaywalker?" Boots crunched against the gravel as he rounded the front of the vehicle, his determined approach and the fact he was armed activating Sébastien's fight or flight instincts. "Stay back.", he hollered as a blond man, who couldn't have been older than him, came into view. "Easy now.", a laughter escaped him when he shoved his gun in the waistband of his jeans, his palm circled his own face then pointed at him, "Did you fall into a bush?" "No." "Got caught in the cattle fence as little ducky was crossing the road? Where's your mama?", Sébastien eyed his outstretched arm with suspicious before reluctantly grabbing it so he can help him up. He shook of the man's hold, putting safe distance between them as he braced for another attack. "Skydiving into a tree.", he muttered under his breath and a realization dawned on him, "YOU- YOU- DUCKY?" The stranger shrugged as he regarded him from head to toe before swiveling on his heel, "Yellow. Duck. Wasn't me who picked that outfit, chief. Would you rather me call you baby chick? That was option B. Felt too on the nose."

His anger rose back to the surface as the man climbed back into his truck and he spun to stare at him through the rolled down window, "You have no idea who you're talking to!" All he got initially was a slow, unimpressed blink, "Do tell, your Majesty?", he tapped his watch, an old looking thing, "But make it quick." "I-", his mouth snapped shut. A smirk came over the man across him, "Well? You shy? I'd start first, name's Calahan. Calahan Hartley. Your turn." "Sébastien Theodore Phoenix Sawyer Thatcher Landon Nicholas Gallagher-Kerring.", his full name spilled out, making him feel like he was at the front of his class, confusing everyone and then himself by the reaction it always got out of people. Blond eyebrows twisted in confusion before Calahan released a chuckle, the usual of recognition upon speaking the Gallagher-Kerring name nowhere in sight, "Wait. Are you actually for real?" "It's my name." "Jesus. Your parents hate you or something, bud?", he leaned back into his seat, giving him a first look at the bodies laying on the road a few feet away from them, the pools of blood making him woozy. In turn, Hartley seemed completely at ease, like he hadn't just taken out three men and potentially saved his life. Sébastien frowned, "No." Silence took over before Calahan cleared his throat and nodded at the passenger's side, "You need a ride?" "I will pass." "Be my guest, your Majesty, just a friendly word of advice… that red flare? Means more of those fuckers are coming as reinforcements and I ain't sticking around to play your bodyguard, I'm on a tight schedule. When they roll up, just say you're ready for your Cleansing and praise the Father."

"You're not one of them?" "Hell no." A sigh left Sébastien before his fingers lowered to the door handle, "They shot at me." "Their usual modus operandi with all of us locals. Where?" He pulled at his sleeve until the place where one of the bullets had grazed his upper arm peeked through, crimson marrying the yellow material. "Have seen worse, far worse." "Are you serious?" Mischief shone in his eyes, "You're gonna live, bud, I promise, giving ya the word of a Hope County Deputy. Last chance, are you hitching a ride with me or going for a Peggie pick-up? John is going to have a field day with ya." As he said that, he stepped on the gas enough for the vehicle to inch forward, clearly enjoying the precicament Sébastien had found himself in and how riled up he got at his words. "Who's John?", he asked as he settled into the passenger seat. "It's a long story, short one is: someone you don't want to mess with. How about you start tellin' me how you ended up here and why these three were chasing you?" "It's a long story.", Sébastien parrotted back, finding himself unable to shake off the bitereness at the man's previous comments. "Cheer up, your Majesty. I should be sulking at you for almost denting my truck, after the hassle it was to steal." "I have a name. And you stole a truck?" Calahan rolled his eyes, "Among other things. So, what should I call you for short because I ain't reciting that long-ass name back to you…"

His hands crossed over his chest as Calahan put the truck into drive, "Nothing." "Rubber ducky it is, then." "Maurizio's fine.", he grumbled, causing the Deputy to laugh again. So happy to be providing entertainment for you. "That wasn't even among the names you listed, chief. I think." "It's what friends call me." "Uh-oh, did I get upgraded to a friend?" "Absolutely not." "Ouch.", Calahan rubbed his chest, "Hurts almost as a bullet. You part of a dynasty?" "Something like that. Why were they shooting at me?" "Cult took over after we tried to arrest their leader, has the whole county on lockdown and communications cut off, hence why I was askin' how you got here." "What, I don't look like a local?" He snorted, "Do I start with your outfit, posh accent, or long name that won't fit on a name tag?" "I'm regretting my choice to hitchhike already." "Hey, no offense. You asked. Plus, you need to flag me down first, not jump out in the middle of the road like you're trying to trap me into paying you damages." Sébastien ignored the apology, "How do I get to Missoula?" "You listening to anything I just said? Or did you hit your head as you fell down? Lockdown." Denial seeped into his system at the fact he was stranded in the wrong place, "I need a ride to Missoula." "Can't do."

"I will pay you.", he patted the inside pocket of his suit, the wad of cash he carried around for emergencies giving him a sense of comfort. "As tempting as that sounds, we're in a middle of a holy war, so I can't be your personal driver." "I need to make a call then. You got a cell?" He had left his own behind, knowing his father would immediately track him down otherwise, now he kind of wished he would have left a trail to follow. Certainly, would have solved his 'stuck in the middle of a hostile conflict' problem promptly. Calahan groaned, "You truly ain't listening." The truck drove past a sign announcing they're entering 'Fall's End.', and his attention drifted off again, forcing his reluctant driver to call out his nickname. "What?" "I asked if you're fine making a quick stop on the way to the doctor's. I know you have to get that fatal wound treated ASAP." "Stop where?" Various structures lined the road on both sides, some burned down, others appearing like they had housed a face-off or two. "Here.", the vehicle rolled to a stop in front of a relatively spared building, the neon sign of a woman in just her bikini and a set of wings drawing his gaze. "A bar? It's barely past noon." He had no idea why he had even muttered that, considering he himself had participated in far worse activities in his lifetime, ones that often created a media storm Frank Gallagher-Kerring paid a fortune to bury. "You can stay in the car, posh boy. I won't be long."

Calahan didn't wait for his reply, quickly exiting the car without sparing him a look as he strutted inside the bar. "Fuck this.", Sébastien slammed the door with way too much force, contemplating if he should try to track down a working phone line, no matter how much he dreaded crawling back to his father that soon. This is hardly a proper rebellion. At the end, he dragged himself towards the bar, the bell's jiggle cutting off whatever conversation Calahan was having with a woman and by the knowing look she gave him, he was most likely the subject of it. "Mary May, this is…", Hartley paused, expecting he would just introduce himself, then turned around to shoot him a glance, "Humor me. I saved your life." "Sébastien Gallagher-Kerring." "Hilarious. You forgot like 20 names." "Whatcha drinking?", the blonde nodded his way. "Organic tea?" Before he knew it, she was placing a quick kiss against Calahan's cheek before backing away with an annoyed expression, "I hate you, you know that, Rookie?" "The feeling of being right.", he sighed and locked his hands at the nape of his neck, leaning back in the chair he was occupying. "Sorry, I'm lost.", Sébastien uttered out as he slid into the seat next to his. "You're in a bar in Montana.", Mary May began and placed an empty glass in front of him, "Closest you'd get to me making you tea, even at lunch is serving you lukewarm water with some of my spit in it. Organic." Calahan leaned in, whispering loudly, "Also known as blatant disrespect. Which I would advise against." "Damn right. You order liquor.", she chimed in as she poured him a drink, "With how pale you are, it might even do you some good."

"Man went through his first Peggie encounter, Angel." "And then Zorro got to his face and bold choice of outfit, too?" It was the second time someone had commented on his face, making him wonder if he wanted to see the damage done by his landing while his hand ran across his clean-shaven cheek. "Skydiving." At the same moment Calahan said, "Maurizio hugged a tree… and it hugged him back." "No wonder he asked for organic tea." "He is also in the room.", Sébastien retorted back before he brought the glass to his lips, hoping the alcohol look make his situation seem less hopeless, or at least take care of the constant dull pain in his arm. The bell chimed behind him, and while he ignored the sound, choosing to wallow in his bad luck, Hartley spun around in his seat and let out a low whistle directed at whoever had arrived. "Chief! Come meet a noble." "Noble?", there was humor in the newcomer's voice as he slapped his back and leaned against the bar. Sébastien could feel him staring and he reluctantly lifted his gaze, meeting a pair of friendly blue eyes. "See this face, ducky? You see someone like him but covered in tattoos and rambling about sin and the Power of Yes,", Calahan waves his hand towards the man's face like he was giving a lesson, "you run the other way. Preferably not in front of my truck." "Very funny, Cal.", the dark haired man grumbled out, before reaching his arm across him for a handshake, "Leslie Parish. Don't mind him. I look nothing like John." "Still in denial." "Sébastien Gallagher-Kerring." "Well, now that you two are acquainted, Les, do you feel like givin' me a hand and taking this one to the doc? Peggies gave him a boo-boo." After blowing a kiss to Mary May Calahan jumped out of his chair, pushing the door open just as Leslie finally realized he was being entrusted to take care of a complete stranger, "Should I expect trouble?" He smirked at the question, "From me or him? Both debatable."

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space-mermaid-writing · 10 months ago

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The Vamp and the Were [IronStrange]

Summary: Tony would mark the day he met a vampire that did not immediately jump at his throat. Just for once – that would be a nice change.

Relationship: Werewolf!Tony Stark / Vampire!Stephen Strange

Tags: hurt/comfort, idiots in love, angst, fluff

Chapter 5: This didn’t go as planned

Every now and then they went on a mission together. It turned out each of them had a special skill set that proved to be useful in some cases. And the company was also nice.

Somehow Stark had managed to crawl into Strange's off-putting shell.

A few days ago, he had contacted the werewolf because several children had disappeared in the same area and he suspected an underground trafficking ring behind it. He had obtained some clothing and toys from those children, which he now handed to Stark in separate plastic bags.

"Can you pick up their trail? There's not enough DNA for a tracking spell."

"So I'm just your better tracking dog?" Tony snorted, without really being offended. "Yeah, sure, it's not like I have more important stuff to do."

Stephen raised his eyebrow. There was a small smirk on his lips. "More important than to possibly save five or more children from a cruel and painful fate?"

Tony was very unhappy about that comeback since it was very valid and he had nothing to counter. So he followed Strange through a portal to the place where one of the children had last been seen.

He took a plush bunny from one of the labeled bags and sniffed it.

Then he checked the surrounding air and concentrated.

When he was younger the many scents used to be overwhelming. But he became pretty good at filtering out what wasn’t of interest at the moment.

A few days ago the lawn had been mowed, and since these past few days had been really hot, the freshly cut grass was on the fast way to become straw. It carried a hint of the typical smell from stables.

Various cats and dogs were living in the area. Tony ignored those scents completely.

A car drove by, diesel engine. The brakes dragged a little and produced a fine abrasion.

Then he noticed something. It was faint, a few days old, and he followed the trail. An Iron Man suit, piloted by Jarvis, was sent to scan the area from there.

Stephen followed him without questioning him.

He knew from experience that if he was dragged out, something crucial would happen. Fortunately, they were in a quieter area of Queens. It was easier to pick out the older lead here than in midtown. And once picked up, he would hardly lose a trail. He didn't even need to shift for it.

Strange walked at his side, eyeing the surroundings. There was still no smell at all of the sorcerer. And that fact was still weird.

Tony was curious how he would smell. Probably something calm with a hint of herbs, like his teas. Something warm and inviting.

The Were shook his head.

He shouldn’t get distracted!

The path led them through a narrow passage between tall buildings. The area became poorer and poorer.

“You’re unusually quiet,” the Were noted after a while.

“I don’t want to distract you from your work.”

“I can track a smell and listen to you at the same time. It’s called multitasking and I’m an expert in it.”

Stephen scoffed. “Alright then. What do you want to talk about?”

Tony led them under a bridge. It smelled like pee. "Oh, nothing in particular. How was your weekend?" He stopped in front of a metal fence and rattled the gate. It was locked. So he tapped his wristwatch, but before he could weld it open, Strange did a swift motion with his fingers and the door magically swung open.

Stephen moved ahead past Tony. “My weekend was fine.”

Tony rolled his eyes and muttered, “Show off,” before he followed him suit. He waited a few more seconds, but Stephen offered nothing more. “Wow, don’t tell me more. I can already picture it as if I’ve been there myself.” His words were dripping with sarcasm. “Let me guess: you read an old book, drank some tea and argued with Wong about which of them was on dishwashing duty? Maybe you even washed the cloak.”

The cloak moved as if by wind when it was mentioned. Stephen stopped and turned to the engineer, looking into his eyes. “I went to a dimension that consists purely of energy and gaseous elements. The inhabitants have never seen a solid shape and I had to disguise myself as some kind of smoke. I chased an ill-mannered nebula through some kind of semi-liquid slime and prevented it from passing into our plane of existence.”

Tony blinked. “You’re making that up!” he accused the sorcerer.

There was the hint of a smile on Stephen’s lips. “I also did wash the cloak afterwards.” With that, he started moving again.

Tony followed him, still not sure if he was told the truth or just some nonsense.

Suddenly there was a noise above them. Something approached them through the air, then landed with a gentle ‘thump’.

“Hey Mister Stark, Hello Doctor Strange. I saw the armor nearby and thought you might need some backup with whatever it is you’re doing here.”

The teenager didn’t lift his mask but the men could hear the nervous smile under it.

Tony exchanged a quick glance with Stephen.

The sorcerer shrugged his shoulders. “It’s just a rescue mission,” he said lowly.

That was good enough for the Were. "Sure, but do as we say and stay behind us," he told Peter.

"Yes, totally!" He sounded thrilled to be included.

So the three of them continued on their way, and the men explained the situation to Peter in a few words along the way.

Between the three of them, with the help of Tony's suit in the air, it was easy to find the missing children's whereabouts. Either the kidnappers were not very smart, or they felt very safe.

It was a fucking cliché: an unused office building on a street with lots of warehouses, most of which were empty.

The kids seemed to be locked in a barely furnished room next to an empty open-plan office that covered almost the whole floor. All the doors were glass, but most were covered with newspapers. So were the windows, so they had no visual contact.

Tony had called his Iron Man back down and stepped in it to get a better read of the data.

There were five armed guys in the open office space and two more in another adjacent room.

Stephen, Tony, and Peter quickly came up with a plan: Stephen and Tony would take care of the armed guys, while Peter snuck to the kids. Once it was safe, he would get them out.

They had the element of surprise on their side and between the sorcerer’s magic and Iron Man’s blasting beams, they should make enough commotion to create a clear pathway for Peter.

But, somehow, everything went to shit.

Apparently, the guys had been prepared. Maybe they knew that human trafficking was prone to vampire attacks – or they had done business with them in the past and had taken precautions. Their weapons carried silver bullets and they were both good marksmen and skilled fighters.

They caught Peter on his way to the kids and engaged him in a fight as well.

The guys guarded their merchandise well.

One moment Stephen was dealing with two guys at the same time, only relying on his magic, while Peter dodged the swings of his opponent, and Tony engaged the boss of this little gang in a hand to hand fight, repulsor vs knife.

The next moment, Tony was suddenly in a headlock with a gun to his head. He was wearing his helmet, but he had never tested it if it would withstand a close-range shot. Or several of them at the same spot.

"Freeze or I'll shoot his head off!" the guy yelled at Tony's companions.

The Were growled and clawed his opponent's arm, but the grip around his neck did not loosen. He didn't dare to turn because the guy's finger twitched on the trigger.

Stephen and Peter stopped what they were doing – the sorcerer ever calm, but his gaze was dark and he seemed to be calculating his options in his head. He gave a secret signal to the cloak, which was currently not on his back, but was stealthily approaching Tony's attacker from behind.

Peter on the other hand was still a kid and seeing his mentor in this immediate danger made him go pale. "No, Mr. Stark!" He jerked on instinct as if he wanted to leap over to him and rush to help, but forced himself against it.

Still, it was one move to many.

Tony's attacker aimed his gun at the boy instead and pulled the trigger – one, two, three times.

The Were thrashed against his hold. “No!”

But it was too late. Nothing could beat a bullet.

Except maybe a very skilled vampire.

There was a blur. A flash of blue and red. In the same instant Stephen stood in front of Peter and threw his arms around him in protection.

He hissed in pain as the bullets hit his back. They were perfectly aimed, and they burned so badly that they must be spiked with silver. A metal that was bad for Were’s and Vamp’s alike.

These people certainly knew their stuff.

Peter shrieked, first of surprise at the sudden appearance of the sorcerer, then because Stephen’s protection hug grew very heavy as he slumped to his knees.

Tony went feral. He saw his pack threatened and retracted his faceplate to bite his opponent in his arm. Then he turned in his grip, his claws extended as he transformed.

The armor adapted to his four-legged body like the masterpiece of technology that it was. It no longer covered Tony's entire body. In this form, he preferred to keep his face and paws exposed while fighting.

It was easy to overpower the traffickers after that. Growling angrily, he barely cared about how much he hurt the people who dared to attack his pack. As long as one of them survived in case the authorities wanted to pry more information out of them.

One of them tried to crawl with a broken leg towards the door. A ridiculous attempt to escape. The Were grabbed his trouser leg with his jaw and yanked him back. The man gave a startled yelp as he was thrown ruggedly against a cabinet, where he remained motionless on the floor.

Tony looked around for the other two traffickers, but there was nothing more than a pathetic bunch left of them. That hardly calmed the Were down, even if the enemies were all neutralized. The smell of fear, sweat and adrenaline was still in the air and kept him on edge.

He whipped his head around when he heard Peter’s panicked voice. “Mr. Stark!”

The boy kneeled next to Strange, his eyes wide and worried. The sorcerer sat scrambled, his head hanging low. He was heavily breathing – and bleeding. Shit.

Tony rushed over to the two of them and ducked under Peter’s arms right into Strange’s personal space. Something wasn’t right.

Stephen turned away from him, hiding his face.

The Were was too big for this, needed too much space, so Tony shifted back into his human form, still wearing his armor, and laid his hand onto the other man’s shoulder.

“Doc?”

“I’m fine,” Stephen gritted through his teeth.

“Like hell you are!” The anger that hadn’t completely shifted into worry blazed back to life. “You got shot!”

Those bullets were meant for Peter. How the hell did he manage to get over there in time? Tony hadn’t seen his signature glow of magic.

“I just need to return to the Sanctum.” Stephen had trouble talking under the intensified burning in his back. He needed to get the bullets out of his body. The wounds would heal regardless on the outside. But his flesh would be burned alive from the inside. Like a slow and very painful poison.

The Vamp felt his control slipping. Not on his mind but his body. The urge for blood, for regeneration became stronger. His fangs were out and so were probably his claws, which was why he cradled his hands close to his chest.

It made reaching for his sling ring in his belt all the way harder.

Peter hadn’t left his side, the brave boy that he was.

And now Tony appeared right in front of him. Stephen tried to turn away again, to hide somewhere. Anywhere.

But Tony held him by his shoulders.

Why wouldn’t they leave him alone?

“Please,” Stephen tried again, his throat dry. “Just take the children home. I can manage.”

“You must have hit your head pretty hard if you think we would leave you like that.” Tony's voice softened with his next words. “Stephen, look at me.”

The Vamp shook his head, his eyes shut close and his lips tightly pressed together. That was difficult due to his heavy breathing.

He was a vampire. Undead. He didn’t have to breathe at all, but it helped with the pain and besides, it was a force of habit. He had gotten so used to blending in.

Tony's finger gently but forcefully pushed his chin up. “Stephen.” His voice was so very concerned.

The Were was too stubborn to let this one slide.

And Stephen couldn’t fight it anymore.

Finally, he looked at Tony. His eyes wide in anticipation of the man’s reaction. And glowing red. The open mouth allowed the heavy breathing to continue, his fangs now on display.

Tony needed a second to understand the meaning of what he saw. His eyes darted over the sorcerer’s face, down to his hands – still scarred – but also with long claws.

The fact that the man was still alive – ha – minutes after being shot in the back several times.

He let him go as if burned and stumbled back a few steps. His face is a mixture of betrayal, anger and disgust.

It couldn’t be.

He would have known it. He would have smelled it.

But sorcerers didn��t smell of anything.

“Peter,” Tony addressed the boy that was still crouching next to Strange and who watched the whole interaction concerned and confused. “Step away from him. Now!”

There was no room for arguing in the command.

For the split of a second Stephen’s face showed the hurt he felt. Not the pain from the bullets. Then a carefully put together neutral mask slid in the place.

The boy hesitated only a second before he finally obeyed. But it stung as bad as Tony’s change of behavior.

Stephen was still looking at the man, unsure what he would do next.

Tony seemed not sure himself. He raised his hand with the repulsor glove and it made this little noise signaling that it was active and ready to shoot. But he didn’t fire at the vampire.

Their eyes met. Stephen did not avoid his gaze, nor did he not look away. There was acceptance in his eyes – in those red glowing eyes that didn’t blink.

Tony wasn’t sure he had ever seen the guy blinking.

His ears twitched as his fine hearing picked up the sounds of the children that were still sitting frightened next door, still waiting to be rescued. They needed him. Maybe they even needed medical help.

He grabbed Peter - who had stepped next to him - by the arm and pulled him with him, walking backwards to the door. He kept his hand raised and the repulsor activated until they left the room. Only then he turned around and away from the vampire.

Peter looked at him with big eyes. “Mr. Stark…”

“We got a job to do, kiddo.” His voice was stern, cutting off any further objection from the boy.

Tony tried not to think about the fact he left the man he called friend – the man he probably had preferred to call other things too – behind, injured and bleeding.

That man was a Vamp – an enemy. He had lied to Tony, had deceived him.

Had everything been just pretended? An illusion?

Tony’s heart ached at the betrayal he felt.

He should have killed him immediately. But the sorcerer had saved Peter. And even if he hadn’t, Tony wasn’t sure if he could have killed Strange – even if he was a vampire. And that was alarming in a whole different way.

__________________

Tag list: @jekyllhydetrash @goopierthenyou Tell me if you wanna be added/removed

#ironstrange #doctor strange #tony stark #Vampire Stephen Strange #Werewolf Tony Stark #stephen strange #marvel #mcu #strangeiron #The Vamp and the Were #spacemermaid writes

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neonravengames · 4 months ago

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On Joining the Pack & the Spirit World

In werewolf society, the Pilgrimage is a sacred and deeply personal journey that every werewolf must undergo to formally join their pack and solidify their connection to their ancestors. The journey is not simply about physical prowess but also a test of spirit, cunning, and loyalty. To be accepted into the pack, one must be accepted by the ancestors, who reside in the mystical realm known as the Lupercal. This spiritual bond forms the foundation of pack life and culture.

The Pilgrimage

The Pilgrimage is the rite of passage for all werewolves, whether born into or joining a pack. It requires the werewolf to embark on a ritual hunt—a symbolic act that demonstrates their worth to the pack and, more importantly, to the ancestors. The hunt is not confined to a specific time frame and can take anywhere from weeks to years, depending on the individual and their journey.

The Hunt: The werewolf must hunt down a target that represents either a great enemy or prey of significant importance/boon. The choice of target is personal, but it must symbolize a challenge worthy of the pack’s respect. Some may choose to take down dangerous predators, such as a wild bear or a rival supernatural creature, while others may hunt a more metaphorical enemy, like tracking down a rogue wolf, securing a large monetary savings through mercenary work, or confronting a personal fear.

Presentation of the Offering: Once the hunt is completed, the werewolf must present their offering at a special ceremony in front of the entire pack. This offering is not merely a physical trophy but a symbol of the wolf’s growth, strength, and loyalty. Modern packs may have a formalized location for the ceremony, such as a grand room that houses the Pack Icon, where the walls are adorned with carvings of every successful member’s name. The most traditional packs, however, prefer to hold these ceremonies deep within enchanted forests near ancient Ancestor Groves.

The Pack Icon

The Pack Icon is the spiritual heart of the pack. It serves as a conduit between the living pack members and the Lupercal, the spiritual world where the ancestors dwell in the packs Hunting Grounds. Destroying a pack's icon severs this sacred connection, cutting off the living pack from their heritage, wisdom, and the spirit world.

Icons in Modern Packs: In larger, more modern packs, the Pack Icon may take the form of an elaborate sculpture, often within the pack’s territory or Alpha’s home. The room where it is housesd is filled with names of those who have completed their Pilgrimage, carved into walls or floors as permanent reminders of their worth. These icons may even include guardians or wards, imbued with magic to protect the spiritual link to the ancestors.

Traditional Pack Icons: Traditional packs, however, still follow ancient customs where the Icon is carved from stone by the packs first Alpha. The Icon is located in a forest, hidden by protective magic that confuses humans or non-pack members, making them lose their way and end up on the other side of the woods. In these groves, successful pack members carve their names into trees that encircle the Ancestor Grove, a sacred site where ceremonies are held on the bones of their ancestors. This grove is believed to be a direct link to the Lupercal, and it is where the most important rituals, like the Pilgrimage and the honoring of ancestors, are performed. Packs that do not have a traditional Icon may still have an Ancestor Grove, and this space may even serve for their rituals.

The Lupercal

The Lupercal is the werewolf afterlife, a spiritual realm where the souls of dead pack members reside. It is a sacred place, hidden deep within the spirit world, where all wolves take their full wolf form after death and join the great pack of their ancestors. The Lupercal is the eternal home of the ancestors, and it is to this place that all living pack members must stay connected through their rituals and spiritual visits, lest they loose themselves to Lunar Madness.

Connection to the Lupercal: Maintaining the connection to the Lupercal is vital for a pack’s spiritual health. Every month, the Speaker and the Alpha of the pack make a spiritual journey to the Lupercal, ensuring that the link between the physical world and the spirit world remains strong. The Speaker visits the Lupercal at the half-moon, communing with the ancestors and seeking their wisdom or assisting them in correcting spiritual imbalances, while the Alpha visits during the new moon, believed to “keep the signal lit” for the ancestors to continue watching over the pack even when the moon is hidden. During this time the Alpha often seeks wisdom and guidance from the previous Alphas.

Normal Pack Member Visits: While the Speaker and Alpha visit regularly, most pack members only journey to the Lupercal during special ceremonies or times of need. These ceremonies are held during significant moon phases or pivotal moments in the pack's life. During these rare moments, the pack collectively communes with their ancestors, seeking guidance or blessings for the future. However, any wolf can attempt to speak with their ancestors at any time with the guidance of the Speaker.

Consequences of Losing the Pack Icon

If the Pack Icon is destroyed, the pack loses its connection to the Lupercal, effectively cutting off their ability to commune with their ancestors. This is considered a devastating event in werewolf society, as it not only severs the pack’s access to ancestral wisdom but also risks losing their spiritual place in the afterlife. Packs that have lost their Icons are viewed with great sympathy and often treated with caution, as they may become desperate to restore their lost bond lest the entire pack fall to madness, potentially leading to dangerous or reckless behavior. To repair the connection, a pack must undergo a Rebirth Ritual, which is one of the most difficult and rare ceremonies in werewolf culture. The ritual requires the entire pack to unite in purpose and prove their worth anew to the ancestors, often requiring significant offerings or an extraordinary feat that re-establishes their link to the Lupercal.

#Lunarflatts #Lunarflatts Lore #neon writes #choice of games #choicescript #interactive fiction

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fl3shm4id3n · 2 years ago

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𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓽 𝓕𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐎𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐲𝐚 𝐍𝐚'𝐯𝐢 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐄𝐲𝐰𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɴᴇᴛᴇʏᴀᴍ ᴛᴇ ꜱᴜʟɪ ᴛꜱʏᴇʏᴋ'ɪᴛᴀɴ x ᴅᴇꜱᴇʀᴛ ɴᴀ'ᴠɪ! ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: Mentions of death, dehydration, reader had long hair, courting, hunting, heatstroke? sorry for any grammar mistakes.

Translations: lehrrapa ioang= Dangerous Beast (Armadillo Girdled Lizard), Smaoe= Thorned plant (Horned Lizard)

A/N: I know this was suppose to be a headcanon but I thought it would sound better as a fic. I hope you like this fic, also the clan has not name yet, but hopefully I'm able to come up with one later. I tried coming up with names for the creatures, sorry if they don't fit, I tried.

Masterlist

You were now of age, it all began a couple days ago. It all started when boys who already completed their Rite of Passage began to ask for your hand in mating, then came the small gifts such jewelry, their latest hunt and so on. When your three older brothers had heard about this, they began to tease you, their baby sister. You loved them, but they got on your nerves specially now that boys from the village had an interest in you.

Then your parents decided it was time, with the help of your brothers they were giving you tips of what and what not to do when out in the desert, they didn't want you to loose you too soon, so you listened to their instructions closely. When the first day came, your brothers and parents had given you materials for you to use. Before you were set off, the Tsahik had blessed you into leaving safe and return to them an adult. With all your materials gathered up and your Smaoe then you left.

You rode away from the village until you could no longer see it behind you. Half of the day had passed now, you had to be far away from the village as far as possible, once the creature how stopped on its tracks, you mounted off. You gave your companion one final look before you then sent the creature away, back to the village, your hunting had now officially started.

The first three days weren't easy, you had walked for hours and hours in search of the Lehrrapa Ioang, they normally moved in groups, but you did not find them at all. You'd stop every now and then to rest as much as possible then continued your search. You drank little water that you carried, and left on the search for the beasts. Your hair had been down before but you had braided it into two braids just for things to be easier.

You were used to the heat, but today it felt more aggressive then most days. While you walked, you had manage to find some fruits and Cataglyphis to eat. You began to get the hang on being out alone, sure back home you were independent like everyone else but this time, you slowly began to learn how to fend for your self. The good thing was that you had remembered the tips your brothers had told you on how to survive out here. They did not wish for you to die out in the desert, sure it'd be an honor to go with Eywa but they couldn't bare the thought in losing their baby sister too soon.

When the night would arrive, you had made a small fire since the desert nights were usually cold, you had to sleep on the sandy hard floor, using your buckskin dress as a pillow. You did wear clothes underneath but your dress protected you from the desert's aggressive heat.

Then finally on fourth day you had finally found a hoard of Lehrrapa Ioang, this was your lucky day. You had spend the beginning of the week searching but finally you had found one. You spotted a young looking creature, it looked around your age. You slowly approached the creature slowly, trying not to alarm and scare them away. You got a hold of your queue, your slow movement caused the creature to look at you, in the eyes. You stared into her eyes for a short while, until she charged for you, but you manage to move away as fast as possible. While her back was turned, you ran behind her and jumped onto back. This made the creature try and shake you off her, but you wrapped your arms around her neck while she continued to shake you off.

While one arm was wrapped around her neck, you got your queue and connect it to the back of hers which was on smaller horn behind her right ear. While you had bonded with the creature, she began to calm down more. It felt as if you were feeling what she was feeling. You felt her fear, anger, every emotion you could think off. She had stopped trying to get you off, and instead she calmly got up on all four legs. The first ride seals the bond, you remembered what your brother had told you. You then gave her the order to take off which she did, she took off running. It was hard since she didn't wear a saddle like but you had managed.

You had no idea how long you two had been riding for but you knew you had sealed your bond for sure, since you both had stopped for a break. Coming across a cactus filled with water, you had manage to cut it and gave your companion water to quench her thirst. You then named her Unyor, which meant flower. You still had three days, for the rest of those days you rode with Unyor, hunting and gathering until you had to return home.

The next day felt like any normal day of that week, last night was the first night you had spent it with someone, that someone bring Unyor. The night felt more comfortable and less lonely, even though you had bonded with her for a day you and her had already grown attached to one another. After you and Unyor had ate from dragon fruit you had found and drank water, you were both set off to hunt and gather, maybe today you'll be lucky and find some meat for the two of you.

Hours had passed and you had been riding for hours, no luck yet, you weren't going to give up easily, you were going to find something even if it kills you. The more you rode, the more the day went by, time felt as if it was slowing down, you were stop to let Unyor rest and then you'd get back to riding. More and more hours had passed, until you had spotted something in the distance.

You weren't sure what it was, was it an animal? The closer you got the more you saw of them, but this was no animal, but a na'vi? You stopped Unyor and got off of her, taking your Khopesh into your hand incase of anything. This na'vi had blue skin, you've never seen a blue skin na'vi, you've only heard of them. The close you got, the more you saw of him. He had black braided hair, some kind of a headpiece over his forehead, a leather like corset on her torso, and not to mention he was on the floor unconscious. No weapon or nothing on him.

You placed your weapon down and decided to touch him, you shook him a bit, feeling how hot he is. He must of had a heat stroke since he seemed as if he was not used to this kind of heat. Going over to Unyor you got the water battle to get him to drink some. You got on your knees next to his head, gently bringing his head up and tilted the water battle onto his lips, seen the clear liquid running his lips. You also made sure he swallowed it, so that he didn't choke.

What should you do? Should you leave him out here and let Eywa choose his fate? Or should you take him with you and bring him back to the village? You though for a moment, then finally decided to take him. You manage to pick him up bridal style, sure he was heavier and bigger due to being a male, but you got him to lay on Unyor's front. Then you mounted to her back, while holding the male close to you so that he didn't fall off. You then gave the order to your creature to move on and she did.

The it had turned dark, you had stopped at a spot. You had laid the boy down on the floor, using your dress as a pillow for him. The whole ride you had wondered where did he come from, how did a na'vi such as himself end up here? You did have other clans around the desert, but they did not have blue skin. While he was still asleep, you had had been pealing some prickly pears you had found, hopefully he'd wake up soon. As you continued to peal the fruit with a small knife, you saw him beginning to wake up.

He was groaning in pain and mumbling, wondering were he was at. Then he spotted you, sitting on the floor pealing fruit. "Where am I? Who are you?" he asked, holding his head in pain, he must have got a headache of some kind, must have been due to the heat. "Your in the Southwest Desert lands." You mentioned, while handing him a now pealed bear to him. He looked at it for a second, then he hesitantly took it from your hand, giving you a small thank you.

He looked around confused, seen that it was now dark and a bit cold. It had been silent for a couple minutes, then you broke it by asking. "How did you end up here?" you asked, taking a bite from your fruit, seen that he was trying to remember. "I was flying on my Ikran, we went farther then I should then something had happened, I don't know what, I just remember him acting strange then he knocked me off him then everything went black." He said, still trying to remember what had previously happened.

You nodded as you then handed him the water bottle which he took from you slowly. "Hm, that explains why you're here. I've never seen a someone like you in my life" you mentioned as you ate your fruit. While you ate, the other boy had been eyeing you as he ate his fruit and drank water, just like you had never seen a na'vi like you. You skin was the same color as the desert sand, your marking were of black spots instead of stripes, and how your eyes had slits for pupils. He also noticed your long hair styled into two longs braids and that colorful patterned headband. You looked beautiful in his eyes, sure he only just met you today, but he was enchanted by your beauty. "What are you called?" He asked, earning a response from you. "Y/n" you said, looking back into his sun colored eyes. "Neteyam." He said with a small shy smile, for some reason seen you made him smile a bit but he also began to feel his stomach doing little turns.

"You know, you won't really survive out here." You mentioned, making Neteyam return back to reality. "Oh, yeah... you're right." He said a bit embarrassed, he knew that since he was in a different environment, it'd be a bit harder to return home, but you had another idea. "I'll help you" you said, causing his face to turn one of surprise. "You will?" he asked "Yes, it'd be best you knew how to survive out here, I'll help you, then after we can return to my village" you mentioned, making you smile in relief. "Thank you! I'd really appreciate the help" he said smiling wider now. You finished your food, then you got comfortable o Unyor. "Get some sleep, we begin tomorrow" you said, closing your eyes. Neteyam just nodded and laid down on the makeshift pillow. As he fell a sleep, he continued to watch you, see how you began to slip into slumber. He was lucky that you had found him, if you haven't then who knows what could of happened.

The next day had arrived, you and Neteyam got up and ate whatever prickly fruit you had left. Afterwards you had mounted Unyor while Neteyam had hopped onto the back of the creature. He also tried returning your dress but you advised him to wear so that the heat doesn't kill him or cause another heat stroke.

Just like you had promised, you were teaching Neteyam everything about the desert, frrom animals, plants and everything it had to offer. While you'd explain things to him, he payed attention, but he'd also get distracted by looking at you, you'd notice but you ignored him wanting him to really pay attention to what you were saying. You also thought him how to wield and use a Khopesh, he had mentioned that he knew how to use a bow and arrow along with a spear. To your surprised Neteyam was a quick learner, he picked up on everything you had been telling him. You couldn't help but be impressed by this, everyone learned in different ways but he was fast.

Most of the day it was like this, the hours passed and he was getting better and better on these soft lessons you were giving him. You also learned more about him, learning that he was from the forest and the clan he was from. It was very interesting to learn about the Omaticaya people, how they had different morals and other things.

The more you learned about him, you began to grow an interest on the forest boy. Maybe it was wrong but you couldn't help it, he had this spark on his eye and personally that just drew you to him. You shouldn't feel this way though, you had to be with someone from the clan and not an outsider, so these feelings were set aside.

The final step was for him to bond with a Lehrrapa Ioang, good thing you had found the hoard that you had retrieved Unyor from. These creatures move around a lot. You and Neteyam had approached the group slowly, trying not to scare them off. You had explaining to him on what to do when it came to bonding. "But how do I know if it chooses me?" Neteyam asked, getting a hold of his queue. "Trust me you'll know" you comforted him, seen how nervous he was.

You had explain to him on how to tell a difference between a male and a female. From the height and the color patterns. He spotted a young male, he got ready to make his bond. You watched was he slowly approached the creature and just like you, the creature also launched at him, but he manage to dodge him. Good thing you had told him that the males were more aggressive then the females.

Finally after abit of horsing around, Neteyam manage to jump onto the creature's back. Holdinig on tightly onto the creature. "Make the bond!" you yelled for him to hear, seen how he then got his queue and attached it to the creature's. After a couple minutes the creature began to calm itself, seen that he had now been bonding with Neteyam. You went over to them, seen the creature now on its feet and Neteyam on his back. "I did it!" He said with a smile, but it was now over. "First ride makes the bond" you mentioned softly petting the Lehrrapa Ioang. Neteyam then looked at him, still trying to catch his breath. "Think! Ride!" You said, then before you know it. The beast took off with Neteyam on it's back. You ran over to Unyor, mounting her and going after them.

As you were now riding near Neteyam, you saw him struggling holding onto the creature, he was not bonding but just holding onto the creature for dear life. "Make the bond!" you shouted, getting his attention. Then he got the memo, he positioned himself in the proper position and began to calm himself, he held tightly onto the creature and continued to ride it more calmly then before. You watched as Neteyam was now calm and riding the creature the proper way. He was getting the hang of it quickly.

An hour or so had passed, you and Neteyam were riding your creatures at the same pace. You noticed how the creature and the forest na'vi had bonded for sure, since the creature seemed to follow his now rider's command. "You did it!" you shouted happily for him, making the boy also grow in a smile seen that he did as well. Neteyam then raised his fist into air while still holding onto the creature so he doesn't fall. "Hell Yeah!" he shouted proudly at himself. You weren't sure what he said but you also shouted what he did. "Hell yeah!" you laughed afterwards, learning his knew words which felt like victory, seen your so-called student had bonded with a Lehrrapa Ioang. You and Neteyam would be considered adult now.

ₙₑₓₜ ₚₐᵣₜ

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thevanillerose · 10 months ago

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LOYAL | YANDERE!EREN x READER | ATTACK ON TITAN

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

The walls of that grand building fell away like flimsy pieces of paper. The stage folded, and from the billowing smoke and flames, a figure like the devil rose.

The devil...

…

“GAH-!”

You shot up from your sheets like a bullet. Below you, the fabric was damp, hopelessly soaked through with sweat. Your heart was pounding ruthlessly inside your chest, relentless. You were always suffering the same nightmare every night, so why did it always feel just as bad every time?

Sometimes it honestly felt like you were just straight up losing it. The Marley incident was over, and Eren was currently situated behind solid iron bars.

So what were you still so worried about?

Why...why did you keep envisioning something awful whenever those sea green eyes came to mind? Were you crazy? Eren wasn't going to do anything, not when his friends were here.

Right?

“...”

Curiosity killed the cat, or in this case, the wannabe world-saving-soldier. Before you knew it, your own feet were making tracks down towards the basement, carrying you willingly or not towards the location where he was being held. Eren's form stood silent and eerie behind the metal bars as you approached, his face a mask you couldn't read anymore.

Back in the earlier days of training and naive missions outside the Walls, he'd seemed almost like a kid sometimes. Impassioned, and angry, yes, but still with those wide eyes that carried a hope, a wish for a better world.

Now though, when you looked at him, you saw a steely, rigid visage. His lips were like a line dug too deeply into his skull, his eyes heavy set and shadowed. He seemed weathered in a way that you wouldn't expect for someone who was only pushing twenty.

“Eren...”

You hesitated. It was hard to know what to say to him now. His motivations for attacking Marley were not necessarily all wrong, everything considered. Yet it was brutal enough to make you doubt his true convictions. Was he really doing this for the sake of world peace?

Or did he just like getting blood on his hands? Titan, Shifter or otherwise?

“...I'm not angry at you. I'm just confused. And you know, we have to keep you locked up for good reason, right?”

Eren still didn't seem eager to answer. His cold gaze made you uneasy.

“Eren I--”

“[Y/N].”

He finally spoke your name. His voice was low, ominous, and you flinched a little when he uttered it.

“...Yes?”

“...Stand back.” “Huh-?”

You'd never felt an impact like it.

The whole room exploded with a burst of searing light, steam rushing to your skin and toasting it a little as your body was flung backwards and into freshly formed rubble. You hit the stone with a wheeze and curled up slightly, coughing and spluttering, frantically swiping gray powder off your face.

When you were able to open your eyes through the grit, you looked up and felt your stomach plummet to your ankles.

His nightmarish face peeled back through the smoke and hung on his neck for a moment, before tilting, and allowing those piercing green orbs to strike into you instead. The jail that once held him prisoner was broken open like an eggshell, and it had given birth to the same monster that terrorized Marley days earlier.

Scrambling backwards frantically against the destroyed wall behind you, you choked out a sob as tears welled in your eyes.

He couldn't be doing this. He couldn't be serious.

Not here. Not you.

…

“Where the hell is [Y/N]!?”

Jean forced a chunk of rubble aside with a hefty heave and jammed his body through into the broken passage, Armin staggering after him, coughing and red-eyed. The entire prison portion of the building was completely reduced, and neither Eren nor you were anywhere to be found.

“Eren!? EREN!” Mikasa shouted desperately, throwing open the jail cell door and breaking it entirely off its already ruined hinges, stumbling forward into the center of the room, and staring upwards. The vast hole torn through the ceiling left the sky exposed, almost like some renaissance painting. Only that was where he must have carried you through, when he transformed and stole you away.

Unless he'd done something worse.

“H...he must have taken [Y/N] with him...they were the only ones down here when-” Armin grimaced. He'd been fearing this for a while. Eren had seemed less and less like the friend he knew as time went on, and this was enough to confirm it. He wasn't the same Eren Yeager anymore...

“FUCKING HELL!”

Jean screamed up at the stars.

…

“MMF-!!”

The gag in your mouth dried your tongue out. It left you feeling completely choked up, thickened from the inside. A tiny bit of nausea lingered from when Eren had flung you up from the ground and into his maw. You remembered little of the journey here except a damp darkness, and a petrifying fear that he was going to swallow you down.

He spat you out, but it was hardly more of a mercy. Here on the grounds of another ransacked and ruined village, he'd tied you up to the interior of a half-surviving house, binding your wrists behind you and against a rusted tap at your back. The grimy metal dug into your quivering spine.

Standing over you, he casually slipped off his coat and dropped it to the ground, revealing a shirt beneath that clung to his now chiseled body. Something about seeing how defined he'd become as he grew older only made this more terrifying for you. You remembered the days when Annie or Levi could flip him into the dirt instantly. Now you weren't so sure either of them would have it so easy.

“You look scared. Do you think I'm going to kill you?” Eren asked, walking through dappled beams of sunlight that shone past the rafters, pulling over a chair with a creak. He dusted it off with one swipe and sat himself down a little spread legged in front of you, folding his arms before his broad chest.

How were you meant to answer that? You had no idea what you thought. He'd broken out of jail, kidnapped you in the process, and forced you down on your knees like some leashed up puppy, so he could sit there like a king and scrutinize you. What were you supposed to think?

“Here. I can make it a little easier for you.” Eren got up from his chair just so he could rip away the gag, before sitting down in the same position again. You gasped and desperately wet your lips with your tongue, feeling how chapped they'd become. Slowly, you raised your head to look at him, gulping nervously.

“M...maybe?”

“Maybe...”

Eren sighed and tilted his head back somewhat, a strand from his dark brunette hair falling loose out of its tie, “That's what you think, huh? Well...it's kind of true...”

Your blood ran cold.

Eren tilted his head back downwards again, looking straight at you.

“Killing you is an option. And it might happen, but only if you refuse to cooperate.”

His hands loosened from where he'd tucked them under his arms, and he rested his palms against his knees, gripping them tightly,

“So just join me, [Y/N]. I don't want to waste any more time. Floch and the others agree with me, this world needs to be changed.”

“...Changed? Wh...what are you talking about?” you whimpered, and he cast his eyes down upon you, as if you were just the tiniest thing he'd ever seen.

“The only way that I can keep you safe is to keep Paradis safe. For that...I'll destroy whatever I have to...”

Your eyes widened.

“...Keep...me safe??”

“...Floch thinks you're just a nuisance that I should get rid of. That's a point we disagree on.”

Eren rose slowly from his chair, and started walking towards you.

“He doesn't understand that without you, all of this is pointless. You're the reason why...”

“No...no that can't be...”

You pressed up against the wall, shaking your head over and over,

“I-I'm just your friend--!”

“For now.”

He stood over you. From here, like this, he might as well have been a Titan. His eyes even glowed the same way.

“But if you swear loyalty to me and my cause...then I'll be able to protect you. I'll keep you by my side, and we'll face the world together. We can move forward as one-”

“NO! I don't want that, PLEASE!” you cried, “Please take it back! Just stop all of this, you can't be serious!!”

“...”

Eren's gaze turned down deeper. Any light in his eyes dwindled.

“Then...there's no point. If you're not willing to love me like I love you, I won't waste my time-”

He sharply nipped his thumb between his teeth. A fresh line of blood drew freely from the wound, and a golden spark flickered.

A droplet of scarlet plummeted down, splattering against your tear-stained cheek. You went silent, jaw agape, recoiling in horror.

“Goodbye [Y/N].”

…

“Looks like everything's going according to plan. You should be happy, considering that he's doing all of this for you. You don't want to come across as selfish, right?”

That twisted grin.

“He's almost at 80%. I don't know how he'll gauge it, but maybe when The Rumbling forces them all to fall into the ocean.”

Floch threw up his arms and smiled all the wider.

“Whatever his plan is, he's almost fulfilled it. And he'll be back to see you soon...so don't go anywhere~”

With a cackle and a mocking wink, he left the room.

You sat on the edge of the bed, quiet as a mouse. Trapped within the quarters that had become your prison. Waiting for the day he returned from targeting the world, and made you his victim instead.

Sworn loyal, just as he desired.

Like my writing? I can write for you! Check out my WRITING COMMISSIONS!

#attackontitan #shingekinokyojin #xreader #readerinsert #yandere #yanderexreader #eren #erenyeager #erenjaeger #yandereeren #horror #romance #oneshot #writingcommissions

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the-present-is-a-gift-au · 1 year ago

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Chapter 4: In Which the Past Comes Back to Haunt You

If Twig hadn’t glanced over her shoulder as she passed— if her unease hadn’t shot off the charts as she turned the corner— she wouldn’t have even caught a glimpse of the guy that had messed her life up even worse than the Dark Future. Her mind was going a mile a minute, wondering how Darkrai was still alive, why he was so close to Verdant Village, what nefarious plans he had for the world and all the people she loved within it— he knew she was alone, he had to, and he knew that she didn’t have any backup—

But all her thoughts ground to a stuttering halt when he rasped a quiet Hello.

“Uh.” She blinked. “Hi?”

Silence.

“What— what are you doing here?”

He tilted his head, looking up in consideration, and paused before he answered. “I’m not sure.”

More silence.

He eyed her bag for a moment, icy gaze slowly turning back to her face. “Could you spare some food?”

Mechanically, she reached into the satchel and held out an apple, fingers twitching with nerves as he came forward to accept it. Darkrai looked… different somehow, coming out of the ferns. There was something off about him that she couldn't place, but she also noticed he was scuffed up pretty bad and realized he was definitely at a disadvantage with the types of pokemon frequenting the mystery dungeon. She was still on autopilot when she reached into the bag with her other hand and held out an oran berry as well. He accepted them silently, moving back to lurk behind the ferns. Though with the way he held himself, it wasn't lurking, not really. More like waiting, or hiding. Cowering.

He swallowed the berry first and was slow in finishing the apple. He watched her as he ate. She watched him in return.

"Where are you going next?" She found herself asking.

"I do not have many plans as to my destination. I lack much direction, as of now."

That didn't match up with the master planner she was so terrified of. Was she imagining this? Had her janky little peabrain finally overclocked itself enough to start hallucinating things?

She grit her teeth. Summoning her courage, she intended to threaten him with something along the lines of 'Listen up, Darkrai, we beat you once and we'll do it again.' But she only got as far as the first three words when his response made everything fall into place.

"How—" He looked completely disoriented, shocked. "How do you know my name?"

… Oh.

Right. He went through a Passage of Time that was tampered with just like she had, didn't he? And now he had amnesia. Poetic justice, she supposed. A bit of tit for tat, eye for an eye, quid pro quo comeuppance for the sadistic dastard.

And yet.

Was the jolt of concern she felt something like Kip felt when he first found her, or was it fear that he was bluffing, and that this was another ruse like Cresselia was?

He was waiting for an answer.

"Lucky guess," she lied.

The look he gave her was less one of a monster relishing the way she squirmed and more one of confusion. “Hm. I have not encountered someone who recognized me enough to know my species name. Apologies for losing my composure, albeit briefly. It was not right.”

Was this the same darkrai? Were there multiple darkrai? Cresselia sure as heck never mentioned there being more than one member of the type of Legend she’d been tracking down across time and space, and she didn’t seem the type to let something so important go unsaid. But Twig could not wrap her head around the lord of nightmares apologizing for simply raising his voice in surprise. That jolt of concern had settled to wrap itself up around her ribcage now. She was definitely afraid of the possibility of this being another trick, but it was becoming clearer that she felt more pity for the person before her than terror.

She knew what it was like to be lost without knowing anything other than your name. She wouldn’t wish it on her worst enemy. And yet, here he was, having suffered the same fate as he had inflicted on her.

She spoke before she realized she’d opened her mouth. “Do you have somewhere to spend the night?”

He blinked, eyes widening in surprise. “No.”

“You can crash at my place tonight. You look… Well, you’ve looked better. I think some rest would do you a lot of favors.”

Darkrai followed her out of the mystery dungeon, noticeably wary whenever the pokemon within cast appraising glances their way. Twig hadn’t thought twice of the stares before that ominous paranoia flared up, and she was starting to realize why all of the dungeon’s inhabitants seemed so strangely on edge today. People didn’t have to be asleep to feel unsettled by Darkrai’s presence, and that was putting it lightly. She didn’t stop by Gardevoir’s place, only leaving the massive apple and a note for Lyra on their porch— the family was always out in town square by this time anyhow, and even if they weren’t, she wasn’t in a rush to expose them to the dread that was so painfully thick in the air thanks to the Legend trailing in her wake like a second shadow.

Darkrai took in the interior of Twig’s home with a scrutinizing eye similar to Gardevoir’s. She was starting to get the feeling her decor situation was more dire than she realized. She tucked the thought aside and went about her usual routine of unpacking her bag of wares to sell and goods to use herself, and was surprised to find that Darkrai’s presence was actually less noticeable than she expected. It was more like a bruise than a dagger between her shoulders. If she pressed on it, she would realize just who was standing in the corner of her kitchen and watching her prep sitrus berries for supper. But if she left it alone, it was only a dull ache at the back of her mind.

She wasn’t used to cooking for two anymore. It had taken her weeks to stop making meals like Kip was there to eat them with her, but she had finally adapted, and now she had to add in a second serving at the last minute when she remembered that was what you were supposed to do when someone was in your home.

Darkrai hadn’t spoken since he had passed over her doorstep. She dished a second bowl of simmered vegetables and savory berries and offered it to him, and he stared down at the bowl for several moments before accepting it. It was then that he broke the silence. “I appreciate your hospitality, Charmeleon.”

Somehow, Darkrai referring to her by her species name was the strangest part of this situation. It always weirded her out how Pokemon made such a big deal out of only using personal names when you were good friends with someone, or at least significantly older or of a higher rank than them, but it oddly managed to clash even harder against her upbringing as a human when Darkrai didn’t refer to her as Twig. She told him she didn’t mind it if he used her given name, introducing herself.

“... ‘Twig’ is your name?” He asked, a note of confusion in his level tone.

“Yeah. What about it?”

“It seems a peculiar monicker for one of your heritage.”

“What do you mean by h—?” Her tail twitched as she puzzled out his meaning, and the flame at its tip flickered a slight peach. “Oh. I, uh, I was named by a grass-type.”

Darkrai hummed in acknowledgment, then began to eat.

Twig realized that she must have had a human name once, and she didn’t know what it could have been. Did Grovyle know? Why did she feel such a need to learn a name that didn’t matter anymore? It stung at her heart, the idea of her forgetting a name given to her by a family she couldn’t recall the faces of.

And then she realized something horrible.

She had remembered her past. Yes, she had only recovered bits and pieces of it, but she had remembered them nonetheless. But if she had begun to remember who she was before her amnesia… couldn’t Darkrai do the same? Couldn’t the person sitting across the table from her remember whatever motive he had to shroud the world in darkness? Couldn’t he recover his cruelty, his sadistic cheer at others’ misery?

She’d been treating him as a charity case, but she should have been seeing him as a timebomb.

It was a struggle to sleep that night. She’d locked and barricaded the door of the guest room she retired in despite knowing it meant nothing— if Darkrai wanted her dead right now, she would die. She didn’t have Cresselia to guide her through a maze of terrifying shadows. She didn’t have Kip to back her up and keep her from breaking down. When she did manage to close her eyes and slip away into slumber, it was only to be greeted by nightmares. Dreams of being chased by monsters, of being crushed by walls that closed in further on her with every inhale, of being eaten alive or burned until her very bones were nothing but charred ash… When she woke in the morning, it was to an exhaustion that weighed her limbs down like lead and to a fear that made them buzz with anxiety.

What if Darkrai remembered? Was it even a matter of ‘if’, or was it a matter of ‘when’? Could she do anything to stop it? She had often reflected on how different her life would've been if she encountered someone other than Kip on the beach that fateful day. She had wondered if she had been picked up by Koffing and Zubat if she would have become just as vile as them, or if she had been taken in by Kanghaskan whether she would have ever become an explorer. She had wondered if she had wandered off on her own, alone, if she would have evaded Dusknoir’s initial discovery of her identity, if she would have never reunited with Grovyle, and if by the following chain of events Temporal Tower would have truly fallen and the Dark Future would have been guaranteed. If she had been taken in by someone who had told her they knew her before she lost her memory, though… If she had been given lies that seemed to click together well enough to be true…

She slid the lone piece of furniture that she’d placed in the guest room— a dresser that was scratched up and cheap as dirt when she bought it— out of the way. She unlocked the door. Darkrai was staring out the window when she entered the main room, watching the sliver of light on the horizon grow brighter as dawn broke.

Darkrai began to greet her when she cut him off. “Do you have somewhere to stay?”

He paused. “As I said yesterday, I do not have a designated residence at the moment. I—”

“Why not stay here? Indefinitely. I don’t— I don’t mind, and I’ve got the room. So it would work out great for us both!”

He watched her in silence.

She could feel herself breaking out in a cold sweat. Arceus, don’t let him see through this. Please, please—

“Very well,” Darkrai finally said. “If you do not mind my remaining here, I will not refuse your hospitality. Thank you, Twig.”

“Great! Great. Uh. Cool.” Her forced smile wavered. “I’m going to go, um… check my inventory for when I go to sell at the market.”

Darkrai watched her disappear into the hallway. She could feel those icy eyes picking her every move apart with surgical precision, analyzing the way she ducked into the guest room again to lock the door and get her hyperventilating back to a nigh-undetectable volume.

She couldn’t help but wonder just how much of a mess it was that she’d dived headfirst into.

#pmd2 #pmd eos #pmd sky #pmd explorers #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd fanfic #pmd fanfiction #pmd fic #the present is a gift au

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aguamarinee · 2 years ago

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➪ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Nicholas × reader

➪ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: action, slightly suggestive

➪ 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: reader is running down the streets because she's being chased. She goes into a club to avoid suspicion but quickly ends up in close connection with a mysterious resident. And later on, that makes her parting a bit harder... and longer. But at least no one is chasing her anymore by that time.

➪ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: ,,I might hate myself tomorrow but I'm on my way tonight, at the bottom of a bottle you're the poison in the wine."

➪ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4,4k

Damn. My shoes are killing me.

When will they lose chase?

I've been running nonstop for these past 20 minutes between crowded areas and dark alleys— I even ran through a short tunnel, but they're still hot on my heels! Literally!

I'm a good runner but in pumps, my chances of fleeing from two male police officers are significantly lowered.

Although it could be because my shoes keep clacking whenever I take a step... I can't help but make noises even if I don't want to.

It's either me lacking speed if I run carefully, or they hear my every step and know exactly where am I, even in some livelier areas.

Be chased or be caught I guess, no other way.

I'm also at disadvantage since I'm not familiar with this part of the district.

I didn't plan on letting them chase me into a nearly foreign area, but I lost track of every familiar surrounding miserably.

But I'm not panicking just yet, my situation is not crucial, I just need a distraction. Quickly.

They weren't particularly close to me, there was always a left or right turn where I tried to confuse them, but this part of the district is a long passage now... Packed with countless nightclubs, bars, and cafés, and a couple of restaurants at one corner.

This was never on my map, that's why it's unknown to me.

The said area wasn't strictly part of my destination, but it still seemed okay going in that way for a while— I mean if it makes the cops get off my tail...

However, by the time I realized this, I'd almost completely deviated from the original route.

I felt it the second I took the unexpected turn into that short tunnel, that's where I lost my lead.

Since then my phone was buzzing nonstop in the small back pocket of my short dress, which luckily my coat covered up well.

...It would surely alert the cops behind me more if they could see it, and I don't want to give them another reason to chase me eagerly.

But it could also alert the others as well, back at the base.

That would serve me even worse.

I would be lying if I'd say it wasn't getting on my nerves every 30 seconds when it buzzed, but it made me be on guard about my surroundings and I could keep track of my movements continuously.

Between my train of thought I was starting to get a bit cold since my coat was open in the front.

I should close it, but there's no way I can stop here, I need to find a quick hide-out to rearrange myself.

Its buttons were quietly clicking against each other, in the same rushed rhythm as my steps and it felt like these tiny things are trying to tell me... or more like they want to signal me about something.

Time was ticking like crazy; my fast steps were equal to a second, but it rather felt like a whole minute every time I moved my legs.

And this incredibly small amount of time that was given to me for this mission, as little as a grain of dust, there is only a very little left by now.

So little I can't even begin to try and think how long will it last.

Because... maybe by the time the thought is born in my head, it already passes on.

In a hurry I was swinging my head from left to right and right to left every second to seek an escape route; an alley, a corner, another passage — anything, just not this long street!

...Or I could dash into a club.

Actually, wait, I'm going to do that!

It might not be an open area, so I have limited room to flee completely, but at the same time it's easier for me to lose the cops and make them go away. Far away.

With the loud music, the dancing people, and the flickering lights I can blend in so they don't notice me, then get away safely!

I just need to find a simple nightclub where I can get in instantly without a security guard stopping me.

I sharpened my eyesight to seek out a smaller place and a couple of beats later I found the perfect club.

The Howling Club, looks lively and full, and it closes at 5 am, so I have plenty of time.

Wonderful.

Flickering and flimsy lights were poking my eyes, even if I closed them for short seconds.

Yet I still sensed the rainbow-colored refulgence behind my eyelids.

I tried blinking it out, so the glowing is less and my irises don't go crazy, getting drunk on the superflexing of luminosity, but I had to move fast at the same time.

The first couple of blinks were even slightly painful but I pushed through.

I'm going to need my eyes for a long time, so I'd rather not have them give up on me because of some club lighting.

The second I dashed into the building my hearing got messed up as well, and the outside world no longer existed.

Nonetheless, I'm sure that the two cops saw me get in here.

I had little to no idea how deep was the place, but I needed to go to the back — maybe there I'll have a chance to rest and wait for the events to unfold themselves.

I kept on pushing sweaty bodies away from me but the place was so packed that the second I moved one out of my way, another collided with my backside.

And this went back-to-back, literally.

It was definitely guiding me forward in a way but I was tottering and swaying beyond my own control.

...Wait, I'm starting to see the DJ counter!

Usually behind or beside the DJ area there are separate booths or VIP compartments, which should be useful for me later, to hide there.

Although, let's hope I'll be able to sneak in.

I still have a long way to go.

Far after the huge platform the DJ was standing on, there was an enormous, monumental ice sculpture of a wolf, ready to howl.

It was majestic, its pose and size were so mighty.

I started appreciating some of the rainbow lights which danced across the icy statue, reflecting on it in so many ways and forms it was truly magical and a sight for my sore eyes.

I was surprised I only noticed it now because this thing is surely visible from every corner of the spacious club.

It had to be, it was so beautiful.

Hypnotized by its sublime presence, now walking felt more like a harsh guiding or a way of attraction, as if I had found the hidden treasure that strongly magnetized my movements.

"—Woah, watch it."

Suddenly my hypnosis bubble burst and the colors weren't as vivid around me anymore as they were a second ago.

And the sculpture seemed even further away from me, compared to when I first laid my eyes on it, if that's possible.

But the bar counter was sure close; so close that I carelessly walked into it and now half of my hip was aching because of the sudden friction with the fine wood.

On the other hand, the opposite side of my hip was part of a rather soft encounter.

I looked up in a daze, at first I targeted the high ceiling where the lights were hanging from — maybe if I look into them harshly then I'll be finally free from this pishogue that clouded my mind for a good few minutes —, but before my sore irises could travel up until those mighty highnesses I spotted a more reachable, earth-bound source.

Him.

No doubt that his tall and lanky figure towered over me, casting my curious face in a shadow — momentarily blocking any light sources from me but they still peeked through his dark locks on the sides — and it was a pleasing sight for my tired eyes, almost as if I just looked upon the lunar eclipse.

His hair was dark, ebony, almost as the empty space itself, but his skin was light and shiny like the early night sky bathing in subtle silver moonglow.

Eyes piercing like the fresh Sun, and even if they tell you to look away for them, you can't, and you won't.

He caught me — not just his beauty and impeccable features... But he was the one who stopped me from walking into the bar counter or more like tried to.

One of his long, slender arms tucked into a simple black shirt with rolled-up sleeves was behind me, exposing a strong forearm and his large palm was facing the counter's smooth surface, but close to holding my back so that I don't crash into it and hurt myself even more.

His other hand was lightly holding my upper arm, or rather my coat that I put over my dress and exposed shoulders in the cool night air, but I was unable to miss the sudden burning of my skin.

He didn't even touch me directly but the surface felt like it was already breaking into flames and tiny cinders, embers were bouncing off of it swiftly under the plush-like material.

Who are you, child of Helios? The Guardian of the Sun?

Or a subordinate of Satan, perhaps the Devil?

...Why is it so hot in here suddenly?

"Are you okay, miss?"

Now he changed to formal, which immediately snapped me out of my staring.

"Yeah, just the crowd."

I kept my answer short, not knowing what else to do or say.

I will stay neutral, not that I shamelessly mapped out his whole face and build a minute ago.

A couple of seconds after my words he let go of my hand, but I was still somewhat up in his personal space, just as he was in mine, considering our hips were touching in a weird way and I was still in contact with the bar counter.

My other side still hurt but less by now, and I'm not ready to admit that it's mostly because of his tender gaze.

"Are you sure? They didn't drug you, did they?"

So much for the nice atmosphere...

My pulse immediately quickened and I started shaking my head vigorously.

I don't want him to think anything like that, it would be really embarrassing!

"Of course not! I'm just not that used to nightclubs, that's all." At the end of my sentence, I proceeded to give him a small smile, hoping it would reassure him enough.

Oh yeah, and if you didn't know, actually I've been running from the police for 20 minutes, so that's why I look like I'm out of it.

Okay, I'm not going to tell him that... Surely it would make the situation even worse.

Tears were glistening in my eyes because of how limp and tired I felt suddenly as I gazed at him endlessly... Also, the colorful lights made my vision run wild once again.

But right now only one thing circled in my head like a broken record, an imaginary feeling getting it's strong — almost choking — hold on me, captivating me, making my thoughts drunk on wanting it.

Those hands. I want them. On my waist. Now.

"—Hands up! This is the police!"

Oh, they did not just ruin this for me——

In a moment everything came to a stop and the packed place all of a sudden became so quiet it was almost suffocating.

Not just for my ears, but for my heart too.

Blood started pumping in my veins rapidly and I was taking quicker and shorter breaths.

Even the lights above me seemed like they were caught doing something bad and weren't shining now as much.

My knees became weak too, but it was good because it alerted me that I have to leave as soon as possible, before they spot me. Again.

I was at the back, close to an exit if my peripheral vision wasn't deceiving me earlier, and I was also short compared to the big crowd so it wasn't impossible.

But if I want to escape, then I have to get going right now.

"Hey, does that exit at the back work? Is it open?" I whispered sharply to the God-sculpted guy beside me — I noticed him already crouching too —, my words barely audible to my own hearing, just a smidge above minimal background noise.

If there's one thing I learned throughout my career is that whispering is an art in itself.

...And there are many things that you can cover or reveal with just a whisper.

"It's not open at the moment, but I have the key since—" Now it was me who shut him up mercilessly, pressing two of my fingers quite harshly to his plump, sinfully curved lips.

After a moment of hard glare that I made sure to pierce through his endless black irises, I swiftly turned around, almost crouching completely and carefully — so I don't put weight on the end of my heels — sprinted across the mass of statue-like people until I reached the desirable destination, the key to my freedom for tonight.

I hoped that the mysterious and handsome stranger will catch my drift and is willing to help me with opening the door.

I mean it's not like he has any excuse why he shouldn't, right?

It's not written on my forehead that I was running from these guys 10 minutes ago so I hope he comes after me...

I turned my head back at the crowd and I caught a glimpse of one of the officers sneaking through, giving unsatisfied looks to the clueless people around him.

With one hand he was also holding onto his belt, which further down was equipped with a pistol and even a taser.

The other one was slower and he requested an ID card from a couple of people he came across, to make it seem like they got a complaint or an alert, rather than freezing the whole facility just because of one suspicious person.

And that would be me, but they didn't see me yet.

And they shouldn't.

But where's this guy? I thought he followed me..?

Then I felt a small tap on my shoulder and I saw him still crouching, now beside me.

I immediately felt at ease seeing his dark locks and chiseled face.

I eagerly nodded my head at the door with a worried expression, and he finally realized my intentions when I saw him nodding back.

He gave me small smile and stood up, went to the door and quietly unlocked it, then opened it just a crack so I could slip outside.

My heart picked up the pace again because I knew that after this I'll have to resume my way of running through the night, but before I could do that, without thinking I put my palm on his hand that was clutching the key in it and took the taller with me outside the building.

The door closed behind us smoothly, with no loud impact luckily so it hopefully doesn't alert the cops, or anyone else.

"...Wow, you just snuck me out of my job." He laughed quietly after a moment of silence and when I looked at him he ran his hand through his silky, ebony hair.

He looked at me expectantly with his fingers still in his locks and I had to gather my thoughts for a second to give a proper answer.

"I work there, you know? I'm supposed to be one of the bartenders tonight." He insisted on and gestured to the fancy place behind him with mischief shining on his features.

"Well, do you want to get caught by the police?"

I stepped closer to him, raising one of my eyebrows and putting on a sly smile.

I got caught up in the small banter and my voice came out slightly louder than just a whisper.

Both of us silently acknowledged this and he stepped closer too, so we don't have to raise our voices.

I still have to be on guard about my surroundings and actions, I can't get caught now of all times.

"How do you know I would get caught?"

He narrowed his eyes with a cat-like grin and bowed a little bit in my direction so his head was exactly above mine in an intimidating way.

My brain didn't register his last words, only the sweet murmur of his deep voice, the sound pleasing to my ears like the silent waves of the ocean on the side of the shore.

I fell into a daze again, into his daze, and at this point, it felt like he was doing this exclusively for me... Or was he this pretty and breathtaking for everyone else too?

I both loved and hated the idea that I stare at him ever so often, when I just met him.

But he was watching me too like a hawk, constantly blinking as if his eyes needed to get used to some strong light or flash... Was he just as enticed as I was?

Sadly our moment was interrupted once again.

A quiet rattling sound alerted my ears and I quickly looked to the metal backdoor not far from us, where we made our discreet escape from the risky situation.

The doorknob moved, indicating that someone definitely pressed down on it, and like a switch; all the alarms went red inside my head, and before I could register some possible upcoming events I acted on raw instinct, reckless and impulsive.

I barely saw the door opening but I was already halfway in the arms of the gorgeous guy standing before me — I pulled him to the alleyway wall, my back hitting it quite harshly but I didn't care at the moment.

My hands found their way to his chest at first, I wanted to feel him up intentionally before I dive into his soft raven hair.

The first two buttons on his silky coal-black shirt were undone, allowing me a small peek at his exposed skin; his collarbones, the upper part of his chest that I was so keen to explore, and his slender but strong, spotless neck.

Shortly my hands ended up in the crook of his neck, feeling it up as well, and only after that I stretched my arms to hug around his shoulders.

Eventually, my palms rested on the back of his neck, fiddling with the few longer strands of his hair, enjoying the moment.

I barely saw his face as the hollow street lights were way behind his broad back, hardly giving his form any contour at this hour.

But this fact perhaps just made him even more mysterious and handsome... Made me want to spend more time with him, in close contact.

And to my surprise, he was the one who closed the distance between our lonely lips rather quickly.

Those strong hands that I was pining for held onto my waist like the last strands of precious breath, pushing me further to the wall.

He was holding me so eagerly I almost felt my feet dangling above the ground, I considered jumping and wrapping my legs around his torso so I can reach his height more.

But as quickly as the thought burned my head, I had to forget about it.

"Was she here? She could've escaped through that door..!" I heard sharp whispers the second I pulled the mysterious guy to me and I was sure that the cops caught on quickly about my situation.

They were not wrong about the backdoor, and they moved way faster than I anticipated.

I mostly acted by my gut when I harshly pulled him into me, but I needed a quick distraction so they don't see my face.

Although I was genuinely surprised that he initiated the passionate kiss we were sharing in this heated moment.

When he heard the two officers whisper, he held my waist even tighter and pulled me into him — my back became free from the wall and now my curves molded into his hard, straight torso.

Almost as if he's... trying to cover me?

...Maybe he realized that they're looking for me?

The feeling of our bodies colliding like this was so euphoric; I felt my pulse quicken yet again, my face and body were getting hotter and hotter and it was starting to get a bit too humid between us.

Our kiss was full of passion but the sweetness was present as well, and by now I'd completely hugged around his neck, trying to move even closer — which was impossible, but I tried anyway.

I couldn't get enough of him.

His lips on mine felt heavenly and refreshing, like ice cream on a hot summer day.

Except his effect was the exact opposite from the icy dessert; he was the one making me feel incredibly hot rather than the weather, but this time I did not mind the hotness.

Were the officers still here?

I had no idea, but I might as well enjoy the moment a little bit more... Maybe they didn't leave yet.

I hope they didn't leave yet.

...But if they walk off, then I will have to be careful about where to go next.

The nightclub is surely not an option anymore, especially now that this guy knows about me being chased.

I guess the cops could go back to the club once more for a safety check, but I don't see it happening.

Even though it would be fine for me — because I could escape for good —, they don't have any duty there to begin with, so it would be pointless and a waste of time.

But I'm getting real tired of their chase so I genuinely hope it ends here.

I got so lost in my thoughts that I completely stopped kissing back the handsome stranger who was still holding me with so much passion.

His hands woke me up from my daydream when they slid down to my hips, lightly squeezing them.

I unintentionally let out a small sound of surprise reacting to his actions, and he stopped kissing me.

His lips were millimeters away from mine, hovering close to my mouth and jaw, then he lowered his head a bit, and now his mouth was hovering above my neck.

I was breathless, I barely dared to breathe in and out, his slightly musty and spicy cologne sneaking up into my nostrils, intoxicating my thoughts.

"Are the cops gone?" He asked in a barely audible sweet, sensual whisper and moved his face closer to the crook of my neck.

After his question I immediately heard the backdoor close, signaling that the cops left; they went back into the club's building.

This is my chance!

"Yeah, they're gone. For good." I whispered back with a small smile, although I couldn't see his expression because his face was hiding in my neck.

He hummed in a low hushed tone acknowledging my answer, and nuzzled his nose into my neck and collarbones, sending a comfortable shiver down my spine.

Both of us relaxed against the wall, his tall frame weighing on mine in a comfortable silence.

"Why were they... looking for you?" He slowly raised his head and stared into my eyes with seriousness.

"Were you worried?" I asked back in a cheeky tone, my smile growing wider.

Now I felt safe — for the first time in this whole night — and knew that I succeeded in shaking them off, so I allowed myself a little teasing.

I have to get going soon anyway, so at least my goodbye will be memorable.

"I still work in this nightclub you know. I can't afford to lose my job." He stared at me sternly but there was a hint of mischief in his dark orbs. "Although, I must admit... This was my first time fending off cops and I highly enjoyed it." He gave me a subtle wink. "Is it always like this?"

"You wish." I retorted, bathing in his playful and challenging stare. "This is the first and last time." I showed him a grin and noticed how his hands sneaked back onto my waist.

"...Then I wish to meet you again for the first time. A million more times." He laughed silently at the end at his silly wording but his eyes told me he was very serious though.

I chuckled, shaking my head a little bit as if I was dissatisfied or unimpressed by his hidden confession.

But actually I was quite flattered by his smoldering words.

My hands slid down to his shoulders and with a stronger force, I pushed him away dramatically.

"I better go. Before they start chasing again." I walked away from him, out of the shadow of the wall and the club behind us, the streetlights coming into my vision and illuminating half of my figure.

My back was facing him but I turned my head back, to look at him once more... To try to memorize his spotless features.

He looked stunned; his lips somewhat open in a surprised expression, eyes curious and eyebrows raised in a vaguely worried manner.

His hair was a bit messy as well, probably because of me, but he pulled it off flawlessly — perhaps it just made him even more attractive in my eyes.

And as my eyes wandered to his neck in the dim blaze coming from my other side, the yellow streetlights highlighted his marked light-toned skin beautifully.

Lipgloss is a captivating look on him, I have to admit. Especially if it's my lipgloss.

His shirt seemed crumpled a bit, but the fine ebony silk managed to hide that fact. But it still filled me with pride.

As I gave him a last piercing and long look, I was planning on turning away and starting to jog down the streets to try to get back onto my original route and pick up contact with my mates.

But he suddenly caught my hand in his — just like the first time I bumped into him — and faintly dragged me backward.

"Wait— I didn't catch your name!" His words were rather desperate but his tone was low and steady, a bit demanding even.

His action caught me off-guard again, but I was pleased.

For the first time since I came in close contact with him, I could finally read his nameplate that was secured onto his fine shirt on the left side of his chest, thanks to the streetlights.

"Well then, Nicholas." I made sure to say his name slowly, savoring it carefully as if it were some kind of exquisite dessert; the sweetest and most delicious of them all. "Next time, when we meet again... I'll make sure to tell you, for the first time." Then it was my turn to wink.

After that I swiftly pulled out my hand from the grasp of his stronger ones, walking off at a fast pace, not sparing him another striking glance.

➪ 𝐀/𝐍.: Just me, simping and gushing over Nicholas (sometimes) in a poetic way basically lol.

➪ 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 【𝐌 𝐀 𝐒 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐋 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓】 !

#&team imagines #andteam #&team scenarios #&team x reader #&team #&team nicholas #wang yixiang #andteam nicholas #nicholas x reader #Spotify #&team oneshot #nicholas

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