#i am admittedly very nervous to take these books apart though at least not without more knowledge

[that-butch-archivist]

"The New York Femmes, 1991" by Morgan Gwenwald

source: The Persistent Desire: A Femme-Butch Reader, edited by Joan Nestle

[ancientechos]

Hallow’s Eve

Emet-Selch/Arianna ♡ 3281 words ♡ eldritch au [modern au]

Did I...write even more...for eldritch AU...? Yes, yes I did. Proper fic coming...who knows when. My superpower is to write a lot about nothing.

Random little Halloween-themed fic! And another example of how I cannot do titles.

Has an appearance from @windup-dragoon Kiri and Hien.

Despite herself she --

Admittedly, very often, wonders if she’s too boring for her...very strange and impromptu roommate. Lover...? She supposes they are technically thus, at this point...

Though that is besides the, well, point.

It’s not as if they’re always home, though she admits they are...more often than not. Thus Arianna has taken to worrying she’s exceptionally dull to the eldritch creature...he’s simply too polite to say it.

(There is, of course, inherently something wrong with this assumption, but alas.)

“H-have you ever been to a party...?” The second the question finishes making its way past her lips, she regrets it -- it’s banal, not specific enough, absurd. Her suspicions are confirmed as Hades fixes her with a quiet, unimpressed stare. He plucks a grape from the fruit bowl before answering.

“Depends what sort of party, I suppose.”

Absentmindedly, she wonders what sort of “parties” he might have been privy to in the past...the only thing her mind can conjure is strangely fantastical images of odd creatures, one less humanoid than the next, eerie music --

She has to stop her mind from running off into the imaginary. Perhaps she’ll ask him later.

“Um -- w-what I mean is -- a -- ” The woman finds herself growing ever more anxious when she realises she doesn’t -- really -- have any point of comparison for what she wants to ask. For a moment, she fidgets her fingers together, then brushes a hand through a few strands of her hair. Her green gaze glances from her companion, still leaning casually against her kitchen counter, to the calendar on the wall in the hopes it might give her answers.

Unfortunately, it does not.

Somewhat blessedly, he does not interrupt her nervous fumblings as she struggles for words.This does not, however, stop her mind from being dangerously on the edge of wondering just how exasperated he must be --

“A-a p-party...?” Almost desperate to say anything at all, she blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Yes?” She can practically see one of his eyebrows quirk without actually looking at him. “You mentioned a party already. I asked what kind.”

Never mind that the question had been decidedly implicit.

He sounds far more patient than she ever deserves, and she presses her palms to her face, hard enough that colours dance behind her eyelids. “Ah...” Why is she getting so worked up about this, in any case...?

“There’s nothing to be upset about.” Hades’ voice cuts through the fog and white noise threatening to overcome her. “We have all the time in the world. no?”

-- He’s completely right. She truly has not an inkling of an idea as to why this has made her so on edge. Is it the subject matter itself?

“Unless there was a party happening within the hour...”

“N-no, that’s not -- ” She’s responded before she can fully realise, with the wryness of his tone, that he’s being sarcastic. Of course she wouldn’t have asked him about something like this on such short notice. Slowly, she lets out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, her shoulders lowering from where they’d nearly surpassed the tips of her ears. What she wants to ask...

“What I mean is...a c-costume party...” She trails off as she pulls her thoughts together. “Some people...like to d-dress up as...strange creatures, o-or book characters...for parties. A-at this time of year.”

Not that she’s ever really gone to one. Twining a strand of curled hair about her right index finger, she finally turns to look at him curiously. Already, she can feel the strange, harsh energy from earlier dissipating simply from being able to speak properly.

“Mm. I suppose I’ve been to one of those before. Though not really any in the mortal realm, of course...” There’s a pause as he regards her. “I suppose that means there would be a great deal of people there...and you wanted to go regardless?”

She has to bite her lip before she can mumble a reflexive no. “I-I just thought...perhaps...you would be interested...”

“Hmm.” The sigh he exhales almost has her thinking he wants to reject her offer. But -- “You said people like to dress up? Maybe I could go as my true form...or something close to it.” There’s an almost malicious smirk that curls his lip, his head tilting slightly to the side. Arianna tries to ignore the way her heart thunders treacherously in her chest and absently prays the lighting is too dark to notice her nonsensical blush.

“I-I don’t think it would be a good idea to go in your...ah...o-other form...” She pauses, teeth sinking into her lower lip. “Wouldn’t you simply scare everyone away...?” She doesn’t need to be told twice to remember that...incident from before.

“That’s the point, is it not? You could enjoy yourself.”

She is not quite sure whether she’s meant to be touched or concerned, and thus settles for wavering uncertainly between the two.

“W-well, regardless...” She exhales nervously. “I think...if you wanted to go, it might be...best to go in...ah, c-costumes...?”

“Oh?” The smirk hasn’t faded for even a moment. “And what do you propose we’d go as?”

The we has her heart fluttering stupidly again, for no reason, as she brushes her fingers through her hair once more. “Um...that...” Blinking and shaking her head to try to clear it, she regards him with what is meant to be a critical eye, but simply gets caught up in his gaze again. “Ah...”

-- Now that she isn’t an anxiously flustered mess, he seems perfectly content with simply flustering her further. Pushing himself away from the counter, he approaches her to smirk fondly down at her. When she simply proves all the more wordless, he brushes a finger gently along her cheek.

“How about an angel and a demon?”

To say she would have expected a suggestion from him would be a lie...not to mention...the suggestion itself...? It’s enough to have her blinking up at him blankly, her nervousness for the moment forgotten.

“I-I suppose...but...h-how do you know what an angel looks like, anyway...?” Curiously, she eyes him. She can’t imagine he’s ever done much...mortal reading. Or maybe he has? Well, she isn’t home -- or even awake -- the entire time. She supposes it’s perfectly possible and within his abilities for him to have picked up any of the numerous books she has, or to even have perused the titles elsewhere. But something so specific as an angel and a demon? It’s an odd thing to think about...

“Hmm? Oh, that’s easy.” There’s a smirk on his lips as he casually slings an arm about her shoulders, leaning in close. Somehow, she manages not to turn away despite the blush threatening to overtake her yet again. “There’s one right in front of me, isn’t there?”

It takes a moment for the words to process, and even longer for the precise meaning to dawn upon her. But when they do --

She wouldn’t be surprised if the heat that radiates from her face could run a generator.

“Y-you -- !” she stammers uselessly, turning away from him and smacking a hand to her face. Her fingers feel cold. Though she attempts to pull from him entirely, he holds her fast against him, amused.

“Yes? What about me?”

She ducks underneath his arm to avoid answering him, rubbing her palms against her cheeks as if she could simply push the sensation out of them.

“Am I to take it that you agree with my idea, then?”

“N-no -- ! Definitely not!”

________

Well -- that was what she had said...

But clearly her conviction had not been strong enough, given her current...predicament.

It had taken a concerning amount of time to find an angel costume that simply...wasn’t too short, but finally she’d managed to find one with a skirt that went at the very least past her knees, while Hades had loitered about the rest of the costumes shop, occasionally remarking this or that or giving extraordinarily unhelpful advice.

“What about this one?”

He, of course, goes ignored.

The house they’re standing in front of now seems tall and imposing, though doubtless only to her. Various decorations and a myriad of lights are strung up about it. The owners had had no qualms to spare coin for making the place fit for Halloween. There’s even a fog machine, judging by the mist blowing across the front yard and obscuring the door.

She’s already not very enthused about entering. Alas, the same cannot be said for her companion.

Whilst Arianna is dressed mainly in white -- with gold accents and, of all things, gold glitter littering the skirt portion of her dress -- and a black headband to allow her halo to blend with her hair, her date (?) wears a mainly black suit with dark red horns. She can’t see his headband from this angle, which leads her to believe he must have simply...willed the outfit into existence, or something. She can’t remember him throwing any such thing into her cart, either.

-- She supposes he looks nice.

Apparently sensing whatever discomfort she exudes, Hades’ grip upon her hand tightens slightly, and he draws her closer to him.

“You are aware we don’t have to go, yes?”

“I am, but -- I thought...you might want to go, so...”

Certainly, as he’s fond of reminding her over their telepathic link, there’s no especial reason they need to be going. They could just as easily turn and go home...and yet she can’t shake off the feeling that she isn’t giving him enough of what he deserves. Surely he would like for more than to simply lounge about her apartment, or...whatever it is he does when she’s away.

And perhaps a part of her is curious if she truly can do this.

Arianna allows him to lead her past the gate, up into the odourless pale fog that masks the door, and then through it. The closer they get to the doorway, the more loudly the music reverberates against her ears. Ah -- her least favourite sort of “party”, then...

Not that she’s really been to many --

Inside are all sorts of people, most dressed in costumes with a few occasional individuals apparently left out, or simply not wishing to invest the time in their get up. There’s clearly food and drink available further within, and the decorations from without continue on in inside the house. Fake cobwebs with tiny plastic spiders, glowing pumpkins and skulls...and a bit of the fog from outside.

And of course there’s hardly any shortage of dramatic and multi-coloured lighting.

Most of the guests are milling about, some far too close for Arianna’s comfort Unfortunately, her already clear awkwardness isn’t especially evident to the more inebriated partygoers.

“Hey pretty lady.” A young man in a some sort of zombie mask apparently isn’t discouraged by the presence of the even taller man next to her. “Wanna go grab a drink?”

As soon as she focuses on him, her gaze snaps to his shoes, then away; he’s about to try to say something else, though with one derisive stare from Hades and he instantaneously shuts his mouth and slinks away like a defeated pup.

“Hmph. They’re like animals.”

Arianna doesn’t really want to ask him precisely what he means, focused on trying to regain her toppled equilibrium. The sudden approach and the already crowded atmosphere is doing little to quell her flickering anxiety. Perhaps it had been a mistake to come here after all.

Her other free hand lifts to grasp at his wrist, her gaze firmly upon the ground as she hunches in on herself, entire body tense.

“Are you sure you don’t want to leave? Perhaps -- ”

“Oh, Arianna! You came!”

The other masculine voice cuts through the white noise and Hades’ words; she recognises it immediately. She glances nervously at Hien’s boots as he comes to a halt a little ways away; there’s cloth beside his, like a robe, or -- 

“I didn’t expect -- I see Hades is here, as well...” Hien trails off a little, perhaps noticing the dire state of the dark-haired woman. “Shall we go somewhere a little quieter? I know a spot -- the hallway’s not as crowded.”

She doesn’t need any other amount of convincing; Hades leads her as Hien and Kirishimi direct the two of them into a darkly lit hallway. Whilst the music here is somewhat muted, the decorations continue along the ceiling, winding over the doors.

It feels far less claustrophobic, however. Perhaps most of it is to do with being surrounded by friends instead. Or Hades standing in the entranceway to the larger room, blocking out most of the rabble.

Leaning against the wall, her death grip upon him slowly lessens as she exhales. Her shoulders slump as some of the sickly tension evaporates. Whilst she’s not entirely in her element yet, things feel -- slightly better. At least better enough that she can try to look up.

She’s somewhat tempted to ask Hien if something is wrong with his eye, until she recalls that they’re all wearing costumes. His appears to be something of a pirate, complete with an eyepatch; though the lighting is dim if not entirely coloured, his outfit seems to be composed of yellows, or perhaps orange. As for Kirishimi --

The woman looks so natural in the -- kimono? -- that for a second it hadn’t even registered that she’s wearing a “costume” at all. She still isn’t really certain it looks like a costume --

And the tails are certainly not a fabrication. Though she supposes she can get away with it at a party.

Hades chooses that moment to gesture with a sigh.

“And you wouldn’t even let me come like that.”

“Your case is a little bit...different...”

Hien’s expression is friendly once he notices Arianna looking up at him.

“Feeling any better? I could get you a drink, if you like...?”

After a moment’s hesitation, the woman gives a small nod. Whilst she feels bad for monopolising the man’s time, her throat undeniably feels a little parched. Once he slips past Hades, the kitsune takes the opportunity to speak.

“Yer lookin’ cute, Ari!”

Feeling her face heat up, Arianna directs her gaze away, glancing toward the ground; after a few seconds, she takes a peek to the wider room, then the other side. With no one else -- really in earshot, perhaps she can manage --

“Ah...tha-thank you...you...too...”

Pressing her fingers to her cheek, she closes her eyes as she tries to calm herself, feeling stupidly childish for no real reason. Though she supposes, perhaps, this is childish; what sort of person can’t even converse...?

“But yer looking as slimy as ever.”

“And I can tell you hardly put any effort into your ‘costume’. You’ve just gone as yourself.”

“Ya tellin’ me yer not some kinda demon? As if I’d believe that. And that suit’s just what ya always wear.”

“Not at all, the cut and style are entirely different. But I wouldn’t expect anything more of a mutt.”

Paradoxically, their hissing argument somehow manages to put her at further ease. Perhaps because it’s a norm of what those two always do when they’re forced together in a single room; no matter the occasion or the reason, they’ve never seemed to be able to get along for longer than a few minutes at a time, and even that is being generous...

See? Everything is normal. That is what she tries to tell herself.

Except for, well, everything else about the situation, but if she just focuses on Hades’ shoulders, perhaps she can pretend nothing is too out of the ordinary about this.

Hien returns a few minutes later with a clear glass of water in his hand; he gives it to Arianna with an encouraging smile, and she takes it gratefully. The glass is cool in her hand, and for a moment she wishes she had something warmer, but it’ll do. Lifting it to her lips, she begins to sip as her companions break out into quiet conversation and half-hearted jabs --

A loud sound, like a foghorn, sheers through even the music; a few people scream. Arianna full-on nearly jumps in place, her vaguely settled nerves fraying like unravelling threads. The blood in her veins turns to ice along with the coldness of the water spilling down her front, and she lets go entirely of Hades’ hand to press her palm to her ear. It’s a wonder she doesn’t let go of the glass entirely -- or that her grip doesn’t simply break it. Instead, she presses it to her other ear as she curls away from the entranceway, her mind struggling at a mile a minute.

There’s few things she’s consciously afraid of. Loud, sudden noises are one such thing.

The tiny noise that had managed to spill from her lips earlier dies, her throat constricting painfully. The dimly lit hallway seems to flicker and swim before her eyes; she squeezes them shut as she tries to calm herself.

“Ari? You okay?”

Their voices sound far away, as if they speak to her from under water or glass. She can’t respond, not even with a movement; her head spins like a kaleidoscope and, dimly, she thinks to herself yet again how stupidly childlike she must look to them all. Especially...

“I am afraid everyone here has overstayed their welcome...”

If there’s one voice that cuts through the noise, it’s his, always his.

But what is he...?

“ -- Ha -- ” Her voice falters in her throat the moment she tries to speak out and grasp at his arm; he easily slips from her and into the crowd of giggling and chatting partygoers, their volume spiraling into a crescendo. She still feels ill, and his sudden disappearance does a poor job of calming her. Was he talking about her...?

There’s a sudden scream; the entire crowd stops stock still. Then pandemonium erupts as chaos consumes the whole house, a thundering of voices and footsteps as the guests throw themselves out whatever doors and windows they can reach.

It’s not difficult to see why. In the centre of the room -- and taking up more space with every second -- is...Hades, in his eldritch form of course, the same one she’d seen when she’d first met him.

The house is deserted in less than a minute; only Arianna, Kirishimi, and Hien remain. The kitsune’s ears are instinctively flattened to her head, tails stiff, her arms unconsciously thrown out in front of her companion. Arianna thinks she can hear something like a growl from within her throat. The devourer of souls seems to have no issue with his current appearance, arms spanning the whole living area.

“Will ya put that away already? Ya stink like the damn void.”

“And you smell like wet dog. Nothing new about that, however.”

With a sigh, the eldritch’s limbs and size retreats; shadows envelop him, and finally he stands in the middle of the abandoned glasses and shattered plates in his humanoid flesh.

“Much better now, eh? I said you’d finally be able to enjoy yourself.”

[veridium]

Commission: “The Quiet of The Comeback”

Admittedly I am very excited to share this, mostly because I always enjoy writing Ellinor and Cullen, and @bitchesofostwick is a dear friend (as if it weren’t obvious by now with all our yelling). Thank you so much, Isabella, for giving me the opportunity to write softness for the beautiful, dysfunctional earth sign power couple. I enjoyed every minute. Love you!

--

It had been an hour -- maybe two -- since she sat down to work on the last reports of the day that lingered stubbornly on her to-do list. The only thing Ellinor did to disrupt it was loosen her layered coat. Being stationed in the Basin for so long she had become used to going in no less than four layers no matter the destination. There, in the heart of Skyhold and a stone’s throw away from a lively fireplace, she nearly broke a sweat. Some habits hastily reinforced would have to be hastily overturned. One aspect that had not yet turned into habit was what it felt like to look up and see him there. Not someplace else, not across the fortress at work or worrying to himself. Over there, also a stone or two’s throw away, sat back on the couch with a boot up on the tea table, a book straddled on his thigh.

She did her best not to grant any clues that she was watching him, or worse, admiring him. Truth was she was still riding the high that began the moment she returned and saw him looking on, ready to embrace her in whatever way he could. They had experienced this multiple times now. Ellinor’s guarded nature lost resolve with them each and every time, as if the act of leaving him could become harder and harder. 

The cover couldn’t last forever, though. There came a point when she allowed her quill to stop writing just long enough during one of her peeks, that he noticed just in time. When their eyes met it was as if they had run into each other in a narrow hallway back in the beginning. Ellinor hurriedly pasted her eyes back on her work and dipped her quill.

Cullen’s remaining attention could be felt from across the room. As always. “Something on your mind?” he asked. 

Maybe a sound would be enough. “Mm.” 

He gave a tired but humorful chuckle, but she only kept writing. That is, she thought she would. Instead she straightened her posture and looked at him. He glanced all-too-readily.

“This work is on my mind,” she tried to reason. “My eyes are tired and get to wandering.”

“They wander with specificity,” he noted. 

“They wander with...with non-specificity.” Her confidence melted into fatigue as she leaned back into her chair. Her vision glazed as her fingers rubbed over her fatigued eyes.

“Ah. Right.” Cullen then closed his book and set it atop the table. 

“Look, I--”

“Lin, why don’t you...wander with specificity over here, for a moment. I promise to ensure it is worth your time.”

Ugh, what? And why? There was no issue. This was what she had longed for all those weeks in the Basin, just some sense of normalcy. She had committed to it in theory. Staring back at him her first thought was to protest. However, in the same way his chuckle proved her no match, she was moved again by the kindness of his gesture. Mouth pressed in a thin, straight line, she stood up from her seat and walked over. Nervousness embraced her with every step closer until she was beside him, legs tucked underneath her seat and an arm hooked over the top of the couch. 

“What is it?” 

Cullen, who had no right to criticize her for overworking -- if that was his intention -- did not answer immediately. He looked to her, and then to the table in front of them. 

“It is a blessing I do not take lightly to have you here, to have us be together with no pressing crisis to surely be there in the morning. That is all I wished to say.”

She softened even moreso, her chest caving a little. “Cullen, I…”

“I know it is not exactly what we have been used to.”

“...Well, you have a point.”

His chuckle returned, more heartily so. Wonderful. She sighed, perhaps the deepest exhale she had made since she rode in through the gates and saw him there on the other side. 

“I like it, too. I wanted nothing more than this...this…”

“Rest?”

“Hey, do not say it as if you understand the concept more than I do.”

His brow raised a bit, a grin playful to match. It made her blush with slight regret, but was she incorrect? No. Just nonplussed as to what the matter was, really, underneath the sentimentality. There was one, wasn’t there? But wait...

“This is not an argument or discussion,” she said, looking to the fire, “is it?”

“No, not ideally, anyway.”

“So we are just...talking. Observing how much we enjoy each other.”

His grin grew. “A strange idea, I know.”

She stifled a smile of her own and elbowed him in the shoulder. For as annoyed as she seemed, it was nice to look at him again and match smiles rather than self-conscious peeks of each other from across the room. As if there was any reason for them to be so far apart in this hour. Ellinor was reminded that she had gone too long in such a way, not just a room’s distance, but an entire mountain range between them. 

“We haven’t always been good at this,” she observed. It was real, then, once more: the new ‘normal.’ 

Cullen retorted, first blowing air through his nose. “In my view, we have improved leaps and bounds.”

“You think?”

“I know.” 

He looked to her, and the way he did invited her even more to come closer. Conceding only so much, she did just so, sitting with her side up against his nearly inch-for inch. She eased in, and he sent his arm around her. Her head fit nicely in the crook of his shoulder. It always did, she could never forget. The scene before them had grown that much warmer and softer. The book on the table, crookedly resting. The fire dwindled but not so much as to leave them in the dark. The need to fill the empty space with work was depleting before her very eyes.

“What else do you know, then?” 

Cullen didn’t move an inch. He felt perfectly comfortable, like every part of him was in the exact place it needed to be, no adjustment or flinching.

“I know that you could have taken this coat off hours ago.”

“I am not,” she chirped.

Silence. Knowing silence. It ended only to the sound of her sighing.

“A Ferelden seduction line. Thanks.”

His chest bubbled with his pleased chuckle. She could feel his mouth and chin anchor closer to the top of her head. He was right, and she knew he was right because the sensation of his warm breath, however slight, against her hair only invigorated the sweat she felt all evening. 

“Do you think it’ll always be this...difficult?”

“What will?”

Her eyes opened and closed slower than before, matching the more rested beat of her pulse. For a split second she wondered if she should say it, if doing so would expose the sentimentality she tried so hard to contain within herself. 

“Coming back. Knowing when to slow down, to...to not let it all pass by.”

“It is my belief...”

“I know, I know,” she said, and pulled herself up just so she could look at him at eye level. He was still. Steady.

“Do you, now?” 

“Yes. We are both bad at it. There will likely be mistakes, that is the nature of...” 

She was putting on her best impression of him. She wished to say more, assume more, but her fatigue had her end there. Cullen merely watched. In fact, he beckoned her closer into him, just enough that she felt its pull. Though she knew him better than most anyone, the look on his face was a mix she could not immediately decipher. Then he placed his hand on her face, thumb brushing against her cheek. There was a bit more nervous light in his eyes as if he were still getting used to the idea that she could do such a thing.

“I do not spend all of my time thinking of all of what we could be better at,” he said. “Though it is...compelling.”

She smirked. “So you admit it.”

“I do also, from time to time, think of all of what we are good at. All of what you are good at.”

Her lips parted. “And…? What are we...what am I good at?” They were closer now. So much so, she could feel the warmth of his breath again, this time upon her face. Only this time she could care less how feverish it made her. 

“So far, you have done well to come back to me. And for that, I worry little about what we look like when we are together again. But you are right, we could allow ourselves to relish it far more. Even if I find great comfort in being able to witness you work several feet from me.”

The mistakes and the imperfections of it all, however provoking, fell through her grip like water then. There was no argument or discussion worth having that was worth going a minute longer without being back in his hold. At least, not for that night. All she wanted was to say “enough” to the demands of the day and relish that he was right. He was right, and she loved him for it. 

Back in her place beside him she let herself melt into the moment. Hearing his breathing go slow along with the beat of his heart, she grinned soft and took hold of his hand.

“In my observations so far,” she said, “I find I enjoy you a lot, actually.”

A hum of gentle agreement. “And I, you.”

[inorganicone2230]

Divine Intervention (Part 3) Yandere!Erasermic x Fem!Reader

Part 2 Part 4

Summary: Sometimes a little divine intervention is necessary to take back the ones we love… whether they want it or not.

Warnings: Suicide, kidnapping, forced relationship, emotional and mental manipulation, typical Yandere behavior, possible non-con in future chapters

Side note: Holy shit! I certainly hope you guys have some time because this one is LONG! I’M TALKING 5K WORDS!!! Hopefully no one minds lol

Please enjoy!

“And was that the newest one?”

You laid back on the couch and sighed, “Yes. I just wish I knew what it meant. I mean, why bring up this supposedly dead woman?”

Doctor Kayama looked down at her notes in thought, “Perhaps it's simply your minds way of filling in the blanks. You've been having these dreams for quite some time now. And as an adolescent you didn't question the details and the facts near as often as you do now that you're an adult.”

You let another sigh fall from your lips. “Yeah, you're probably right, but there already was an explanation for her, she’s dead.”

You had been seeing Doctor Kayama, who specialized in sleep disorders -insomnia, sleep apnea, narcolepsy and in your case, reoccurring dreams/nightmares- since you were 16 and in a way it was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because you had someone unbiased to talk to about them who you felt wasn't going to judge you, and a curse because by constantly talking about them, you could never really forget them or put them out of your head. They were always there, right at the forefront of your mind, just waiting for something in your day-to-day life to trigger a memory of them.

Doctor Kayama pursed her plump lips into a thin line, “The mind is a tricky thing, and dreams are even trickier. I can see that we are not going to make anymore progress today, our time is almost up anyway. And if I'm not mistaken, you have to be to work in an hour.” She said, standing up to put her things away and walk you to the door.

You followed suit, “Yes, I think I’m hitting a blank on how to think about it further. Maybe next week I’ll have some answers… or some ideas at the very least.”

Nemuri smiled at you in response, “I agree. Some time to think more will do you some good.”

You shook her hand and as always, you felt just a little bit better after your session, even if you didn't make much progress. Anything was better than nothing. Wasn't it?

“I'll see you again next week, same time as usual.” With your confirmation to return next week you were out the door and on your way to work.

--------

You were fortunate enough to have found a nice apartment that was within walking distance to both your work and the doctor's office. Right in the middle actually! The only downside was that you had to go further into the city whenever you needed to do shopping. You made decent money at the bookstore/cafe that you worked at, but the area didn't really have any grocery stores, just a lot of restaurants and gas stations. And while that was fine every now and then, you would prefer not to waste all your hard earned money on expensive meals and unhealthy junk food.

You were about halfway home though when something caught your eye, or rather someone… and it made you freeze.

‘Was that? No… it couldn't be? Could it…?’

For just a moment you could have sworn you caught sight of a familiar head of golden hair. Long and soft looking, it caught the glare from the afternoon sun on the fresh snow in just a way that it seemed to make the strands glitter in the light.

Without a second thought you instinctively began to head in the same direction. Or you would have, if your phone hadn't rang. 

You scrambled to pull it from your purse. “Hello?” A brief pause, “No that's fine. I was going to stop at my apartment on the way but I can just head straight there, it's no trouble.” Another pause, “Sounds good. I’ll see you soon, bye bye.”

Hanging up and putting away your phone you took a look around, you had lost sight of whoever that was. “Oh who am I kidding, it was nothing! Just someone's regular blonde hair, my eyes and that appointment I just had are playing tricks on me.” You reassured yourself. It was a strange thing to see but there was no way it was real. With your pep talk over you began your trek to the bookstore.

In your haste you failed to notice the lime green eyes that watched you from the roof of the building beside you. Eyes that watched you with a predatory hunger. The bounce of your hair, the sway of your hips, the curves of you soft form. All of it was focused on you and you alone and the predator licked his lips in anticipation.

“Soon (Current Name), soon.”

--------

You made it to work with a few minutes to spare and after exchanging pleasantries with your coworker and going through the usual shift-change duties, you were ready to start your day.

It was a Saturday and with most people still in school or at work, plus the cafe being closed, it was proving to be a rather slow afternoon. You did the usual tasks of dusting the shelves, taking inventory and putting away new items, calling people to inform them of their special orders and just general basic things. You soon found yourself with nothing else to do. Not even a customer to hep out!

Luckily, the couple that owned the store didn't mind the employees reading on shift as long as everything else was done and no customers needed help. Taking a seat behind the counter you began to read your current book. A horror/mystery novel about a young girl who goes to sleep in her bed but wakes up in an old house with no windows or doors leading outside, she has to find a way out while being haunted by whispering voices and a tall pale figure with teeth for lips that watches her from the shadows.

You had only gotten a few chapters in when you heard a voice speak to you though. “Excuse me miss? Could you help us?”

Funny, you hadn't heard the bell go off when the door was opened, nor had you felt the draft from the chilly winter weather outside. But you simply wrote it off, thinking you were too engrossed in your book. None the less you mark your page and put the book down. “Of course! What can I do for y-...” You freeze mid sentence.

Standing in front of you are two very familiar looking men. Both tall and handsome in their own way, but as different as night and day. 

The tallest one had black hair that brushed his shoulders and a serious case of five o'clock shadow. His eyes were just as dark as his hair, though admittedly, that could have been because he looked like he hadn't slept in a week. He was dressed in black jeans, a gray t-shirt and a heavy black winter pea-coat.

The other man practically radiated sunshine with his rather long blonde hair and bright green eyes framed by simple square glasses. Multiple piercings adorned his ears along with other jewelry, a silver chain wrapped twice around his neck and a few rings to match. He was dressed rather similarly to his counterpart but in tans and whites.

It was THEM! The one’s from your dreams… or at least... two men who looked exactly like them. And it scared you…

It took you a second to realize that you must have zoned out when you froze because they were giving you odd looks and asking if you were okay. You managed to give them an admittedly half-assed response. “O-oh yes! I'm p-perfectly fine, you just startled me is all! What can I help you with today?”

Both men exchanged odd glances with each other, like they were having some silent conversation. “Are you sure miss?” The black haired one asked, “Your white as a sheet and look like you've seen a ghost.”

“Yes! Absolutely!” You replied with a forced kind of enthusiasm.

The blonde snickered and gave a feral grin, first to you and then to his companion, “Aww, she's blushing Shouta! Maybe she's just flustered, what with having such good looking guys come in her store!” His insinuation and the wink he throws your way make your eye twitch in irritation. But he’s not done running his mouth, “Well if it makes you feel any better Sweetling, I’d be tripping over myself to if a lovely little thing you walked in on me out of the blue.”

You weren't quite sure how to respond to that. Luckily for you the other one -Shouta, the blonde said?- seemed to know what to do about his friends behavior since he reached out to yank on some of his hair. “Cut it out Hizashi. Can't you see you're making the poor thing as nervous as a wet kitten.”

Hizashi at least had the decency to look apologetic as he rubbed the spot his hair was yanked. “Sorry hun, my mouth gets the better of me sometimes, especially around pretty girls.” He held out his hand to you and grinned again, “Let's start over! I’m Hizashi and this here is my friend Shouta!”

You were still really put off -terrified actually- by their resemblance to the men from your dreams but you had a job to do still. You swallowed your fear and plastered on your best ‘Fake as Shit Face’ Before quickly shaking both their hands. “It's nice to meet you, my names (Fake Name)! What can I do for you today?” You hoped you sounded convincing enough. Your work had a policy about not using real names on the name tags, just better for the employees safety, especially in this day and age. Can't be too careful.

“We were hoping to find some books on religion… reincarnation to be more precise. Possibly even mythology and folklore.” He said it in such a strange way, like he was trying to explain something without going into too much detail.

You thought it was an odd request for sure, but you weren't really one to judge other people's taste in literature since you yourself had some weird ones. Right now all you wanted to do was get them out of the store ASAP.

“Sure! Follow me right this way.”

You lead them to a small section near the back of the left end of the store, no more than three bookshelves. Both sections were right next to each other since more often than not, both genres got classified under the same banner these days. “I’m not to sure if we have anything on reincarnation specifically but if we do it's over here. Feel free to look as long as you want, we're still open for a few more hours so take your time!”

Both of them smiled at you warmly and thanked you profusely.

“It was no trouble, please let me know if I can help with anything else.” You were trying to make a speedy exit. You needed to think, and breath, and process what was going on. But you couldn't do that around their confusing and suffocating presence.

“Oh don't worry Sweets, we'll be sure to let you know when that happens.” Hizashi said in a rather provocative way, obviously trying to get a reaction out of you.

You didn't respond, simply gave a nod  and turned on your heel and began heading straight for the restroom.

Once inside with the door shut and locked tight, you suddenly felt the strangeness of this situation hit you all at once. You ran to the toilet and puked, small quiet tears running down your cheeks as you hyperventilate. ‘What the hell is going on here?!’ Why the fuck do those two look like them?!’

It wasn't just a passing resemblance either, it was like they stepped right out of your mind and into reality. You just couldn't handle this right now. “Maybe they'll have not found anything and left already.” You said to yourself hopefully and decided to give yourself a few more minutes of isolation before going back out there.

Your prayers went unanswered though as you stepped out to see them at the counter, one book in hand and warm smiles on their faces. “You okay there sweetling, you're looking a little pale?”

You waved off the concern and booked it to the register to ring up their purchase. The sooner they paid, the sooner they would leave. At least… you hoped they would.

“I hope you found everything you needed!” You sounded totally fake even to yourself.

Shouta gave a low chuckle, “No, not everything. But I’m sure we'll get what we need very soon.”

Something about the way he said that sent chills up your spine. It almost sounded like a warning. “W-well if you have something specific that you're looking for we can try and order it for you.” Your reply is automatic and as the men share a look, you feel like your being left out of an entire conversation that is taking place right in front of you.

“We’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

“Well I hope the two of you have a good evening, please come again!” You gave a short bow to them both.

“Come on! No need to be so formal! You seem like a real sweet girl, you should give us your digits so we can hang out sometime. We know some pretty awesome places to go have some fun.” The blonde suggests, leaning across the counter space and ever closer to you, a large toothy grin on his face.

Without thinking you reply, “Sorry, my boss's have a strict policy about employee/customer relations. Immediate termination if fraternization is found. I like my job so I’d rather keep it. Sorry again.” There was no such rule or policy enforced, but they didn't need to know that.

They give each other that same look again. “That's too bad. We're new to the area and were hoping to meet some new people to hang out with.” Shouta replied, both wore the same dejected look. It almost made you feel bad for fibbing. Almost…

“The folks around here are really great, I’m sure you guys won't have to hard of a time meeting some new people!” You really hoped they would leave or that another customer would come in. Anything to end this weird conversation!

For a moment, the two men frowned, like you said something awful.  But they quickly bounced back, “Well I’m sure we'll be seeing you around either way. We’ll be sure to come back here if we need anything else! Right Shouta!?”

Shouta gave a much quieter response then his friend, “Yes, I’m sure we're on the fast track to becoming regulars for you.”

‘I certainly hope not.’‘ You thought bitterly as you finished saying your goodbyes and watched them walk out the door. If you never saw these men again it would be far far to soon for your liking.

--------

Back in their home in the Heavens and laying in their bed, the two gods of Life and Death basked in the happiness they felt at being in your physical presence for the first time so long.

Hizashi himself was a literal walking bundle of sunshine. “Oh Shouta! I know we've been watching her all her life and sending her those dreams for years, but to be in her presence again after eons apart! The memories didn't do her justice, her voice alone was enough to make my mind go blank.”

Shouta also gave a lighthearted smile, “Yes, and the way she seemed so shy and nervous after she recognized us from the dreams. It really was so sweet and precious. She was such a raging spit viper in the past, I rather like this quiet, demure version of her. Almost seems a shame to waste it by giving her memories back.”

The God of Life nodded along with his opposites words. “Yes, she's going to be quite angry once she remembers everything. Why don't we just forget about the medicine and bring her here as is? Start over completely! New and fresh?”

“Do you truly want that? For her to not remember anything about our time together in the past? Because I don't, I want her to remember the day we met, the time we spent getting to know her, the first time we made love to her. I want her to be able to understand how hurt we were the day she took herself from us!” Shouta’s eyes were beginning to flash red as his hair moved in an unseen wind. “I want to know why she did it in the first place, so that we can do better for her, be better for her. And…” Shouta trailed off here as if he was unsure if he should continue or not.

Hizashi reached out to take his lovers face in his hands and promoted him to continue, “And?”

Shouta took a deep breath, “And perhaps I wish to punish her for it... we have suffered for five thousand years without her, and it just doesn't seem fair that she should get to live in blissful ignorance of what she has put us through. That's why I want her to remember Zashi.”

A mouth was on his as soon as he finished, a warm wet tongue tangled with his own as he readily responded. The kiss lasted a while longer before both deities reluctantly pulled back.

 A smug Hizashi stared down on his other half with lusty eyes, “Very well, I can see your point, we will give her the medicine. But what do we do now that we've made her aware of us outside of the dreams? Do we simply bring her home, or do we wait and play it by ear? I want her here with us, so that she can be safe and happy. It took all my willpower in that shop not to just grab her and bend her over the counter. I can't wait to much longer Shou! So what is the plan? I know you have one.”

Shouta's smile was positively feral, “This is what we will do,...”

--------

The rest of the night went smoothly -despite your nagging fear over the two lookalikes- and you tried your best to be as productive as possible until it was time to close up the shop for the night.

Since you got all your cleaning done so much sooner than usual, it was a relatively easy close. All you really had to do was count down the till and check to make sure all the doors and windows were locked. Easy peasy!

You were excited to get out the door so quickly after such a slow -and admittedly frightening- evening. All you wanted was to get to the comfort of your home where you could relax and breath easy. Tomorrow was the start of your weekend and you had every intention of staying home the entire time!

After checking that the place was locked up you headed for the door. You felt the bitter cold air as soon as you stepped outside, it was a clear night so it was much colder than the overcast day had been. And quiet too, you noted. Not unusual for you, all the other businesses closed at least an hour or two before you, and no bars or restaurants for a few blocks meant that you rarely saw a single soul this late at night. You still kept a switchblade in your coat pocket and pepper spray in your purse though, just in case…

You locked the door and had just started walking when you heard it, the telltale sound of snow and ice crunching under heavy footsteps, two sets. You had a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that you knew who was going to be there when you turned around. You wanted so bad to be proven wrong.

“Well look who it is! Our new favorite bookstore worker! Just closing up shop sweetling?”

Yup, you were right... unfortunately. You turned around and there they were, still dressed in the same clothes and with warm smiles adorning their handsome faces. “Y-Yes, I was just on my way home.” You said, not bothering to put on the fake customer service enthusiasm you had earlier. You hoped they would take the hint and let you go on your way.

They were much closer to you now, only a few feet away, when Shouta spoke next. “You seem awfully tired there Kitten, and it's quite the hour for a pretty young lady like you to be walking the streets so late at night. We'll walk you home.”

Your eye twitched at the use of that nickname, you didn't know these two well enough for them to act so familiar with you. And they never would if you had it your way. “That's not necessary, I live close by and I'm used to walking this la-”

You were cut off by Shouta’s firm voice, “We insist. We'll walk you.” It was practically an order. And it made you bristle. You were just about to tear into him when you were cut off again, this time by the blonde.

“Sorry, what Shouta means to say is that we live in the direction you were going. We have to walk the same way anyway and we just wouldn't feel right NOT walking you this late at night. Come on, don't make us go home worried sick about weather you made it home safely or not. Pretty please?”

You knew this wasn't normal. Meeting two guys -at the same time- who look identical to the men from your dreams, the way they just happen to run into you as your getting off work, that they live in the same direction as you. You wanted so badly to tell them to fuck off and leave you alone, to hightail it and run as far and as fast as you could away from them, but you didn't. You weren't that kind of person, you overthink and over analyze situations that make you feel uncomfortable. Just like now, you couldn't help but think that maybe they really were just trying to be nice, that it was just a coincidence they looked so similar. But another part of you thought that if you did tell them what you really wanted to say, it could backfire on you at work, they could come in and say something to your boss and coworkers. Make it sound like they were just trying to be Good Samaritans and you were being a self-righteous bitch. You needed this job more than you needed your backbone, you thought. So you caved…

“W-well if it's not out of your way, than sure. I could u-use the company.” You know you've made a mistake the second the words leave your mouth.

Both men beamed at your agreement. “Great! Then lead the way Sweetling!” They each took a stand on either side of you as you begin to walk.

Hizashi fills the silence with chatter and small talk while Shouta chimes in every now and then. They ask basic and harmless things, things like; “Do you enjoy working at the bookstore? Have you lived in the neighborhood long? What kinds of things are there to do?” You answer some of them honestly, but some you fib on or give vague nondescript answers. They don't seem to notice, and if they do they don't mention it.

Soon -but not soon enough- the three of you are standing outside your building. It's a modest three story complex, relatively new and decently maintained and you live on the third floor in a small one bedroom flat. You refrain from breathing a sigh of relief while still in their presence. “Well, this is me. Thanks again for walking me home.”

“It was no trouble. Me and Zashi are always happy to help. Especially when such a pretty face is involved.” If this was any other man flashing you that sexy smile you would have gone weak in the knees, all you felt right now was a desire to kick them both.

“Yeah! It was so nice meeting such a cutie right off the bat! And we got to run into you again, that's gotta be fate, right?!” Hizashi says dreamily. Was it just your imagination or had they moved closer to you.

You chuckled nervously, “W-who can s-say? M-maybe, I don't k-know.” They were definitely closer.

“ I'm positive it was! We couldn't stop thinking about you all night! We're so happy to see you again (Y/N)!” Hizashi kept gushing.

You froze in absolute terror. How did he know your real name!? They were still taking turns praising you when you spoke. “How do you know my name?”

Shouta was the first to take notice of your tense tone. “What was that Kitten?”

You didn't bother being polite this time, “I said how the hell do you know my name?! I never gave it to you!” You took a step back and freaked when you felt the brick wall of your building behind you instead of the door.

They looked at each other in that same way from earlier, speaking without words.

“Calm down, you gave us your name when we introduced ourselves in the shop.”

“Yeah, don't you remember? It was even on your name tag.”

If you hadn't heard it so clearly you might have believed them, but you had heard it and you weren't buying their bullshit excuse.

“No! I gave you a fake name in the store, the one you just said is my real birth name! How do you know it?!” Your breathing was labored and you felt lightheaded. A panic attack maybe? You needed to calm down and think straight.

They looked at you for a moment longer, faces blank of any emotion. And then Hizashi laughed, scratching the back of his head like he just made a simple mistake . “Whoops, guess I kind of blew our cover. Sorry Shou, I got carried away and wasn't thinking before I spoke.”

Shouta meanwhile simply shook his head and cuffed him in the arm. “Great job Loudmouth, now we have to move things along faster thanks to your carelessness.”

You were dumbfounded, completely lost as to what was going on in front of you. “What the hell do you two freaks think this is?! Some kind of sick joke?! Because I'm not laughing! What I’m doing is going straight to the cops.” You regretted that last line as soon as you said it because both men's eyes were instantly on you. Bad idea to admit you were going to go to the fuzz. Now you felt like a cornered animal. Like pray. And when your flight or fight response kicked in, you ran to the left, your switchblade and pepper spray completely forgotten in your panicked state. Or tried to anyway.

Two sets of impossibly strong arms grabbed you and shoved you back up against the cold brick wall, a hand covering your mouth to block your screams. Not enough to truly hurt or bruise, but just enough to knock the air from your lungs. Your eyes fell closed for just a second and when you opened them again you were greeted by a sight you only ever saw in your dreams.

They stood before you in ancient but elegant robes, radiating a strange and inhuman aura. Hizashi was dressed in green and emerald, ornate jewelry catching the light from the street lamps above. Shouta was in simple gray and black. Where as before they had only LOOKED like them now they WERE them. They were still smiling like nothing was wrong.

“Oh you won't be doing that Songbird, those pretty little lips aren't going to be singing for anyone but us ever again.” The blonde leaned in closer to whisper huskily in your ear, his warm breath fanning over your numb ear and making you shiver. “You have no idea how amazing it feels to be touching you like this again. You feel so soft Sweetling, I could just devour you right here and now.”

You had gone into shock for a few moments at the drastic change in them, both in physicality and in personality. But as soon as you felt the undeniable press of his hardening groin against your hip, you absolutely lost it. Thrashing, shaking your head, trying to scream through the hand that still covered your mouth and kicking out your legs, but it did you no favors as you soon found yourself too tired to move.

It only seemed to egg the blonde on further when you heard him groan -not in pain- but in pleasure. “Keep that shit up and I’m not gonna be able to hold back.” He said, grinding himself against you harder. You ceased all movement.

“Enough. It's far too cold to be doing that here Zashi. We can enjoy ourselves once we have her safe and sound at home, and warmed up.” Shouta said as casually as if he was ordering a pizza. You began to thrash again with renewed vigor, tears ran down your face and you felt his hand become slick with your drool from your muffled screams.

Hizashi pouted and rolled his eyes, “Fine fine, but it will be a lot easier to get everything ready if she was asleep.”

“I'm one step ahead of you. Do you want to or should I?

“You. I don't think I could hold myself back if I do it.”

“Alright, just take your hand off her mouth when I tell you too.”

This was your chance! As soon as your mouth was free you could scream for help! Even if it was only a second, you had to try! You closed your eyes and waited with bated breath for the pressure on your face to ease up.

“Now.”

The hand was gone. “SOMEONE HEL-” The Hand was replaced with a mouth. Shouta's mouth slammed against yours in a bruising kiss and you felt some kind of bitter tasting liquid slide down your throat. It took you a second to realize that he was still kissing you, sliding his tongue against yours and groaning into your mouth, probably in an effort to keep you quiet while whatever he forced you to drink kicked in. Which wasn't taking long as you felt your mind going hazy and your eyes getting heavy. Well, you weren't going to just take it without a fight, the moment you felt his tongue in your mouth again you bit down. Hard!

He pulled back with a curse shot you a disgruntled look as he spat blood onto the street. “That wasn't very nice. Maybe I was wrong and she dose still have some of that fire left.”

Your mind was foggy and your knees gave out on you, Hizashi caught you before you could hit the frozen ground. “G-go f-f-fuck y-yourselves!”

Both of them just grinned down at you and reached out to stroke your cheeks and hair. Your arms felt heavy, you couldn't even fight back at this point. You were slipping away fast.

“Don't worry Kitten, we'll explain everything once we get you home and you wake up. Things will all make sense soon, we promise.”

“We’ll do better this time. We won't let you get away from us, we've worked too hard to get you back. But we'll tell you all about that after you get some sleep. Just rest for now, your perfectly safe with us Sweetling. We love you so much!”

That was all you heard before sleep claimed you. Your last thought was that you hoped your sleep would be black. The last thing you wanted was to dream and have to see their faces again.

I hope everyone enjoys this extra long chapter, the next one will probably be about the same length, if not just a bit longer! If you have the time please let me know what you thought. I was incredibly worried about the pacing I set for it. I feel like it was too rushed.

As I said before, thank you again to @jadepillar18 for the inspiration on this story!

Enjoy!

[sluttyprincessinarizona]

Holy shit, alright.

So, first off, hi. I’ve been having a tough few days because of various reasons that I may or may not get into in this post. I’ve been bottling up all of my feelings for too long and writing things down has always been easier for me than talking about them. Basically, this is me spilling a lot of my secrets so I can get them out of my head. I’m sorry if this isn’t what you expected or wanted from me, please skip this if you’re not okay with a post like this. 

TW//: Talk of anxiety and depression, mental and emotion manipulation(?), mentions of death and suicide, and just dark shit in general. Proceed with a lot of caution.

Hello. My name is Malachi. That’s not my birth name but it is the name I choose to go by. I am a non-binary African American person that is trying their absolute best in the life I was given. Admittedly, I’m not fairing very well but I continue to try everyday.

I come from a fairly large family. 8 siblings in total, 1 on my moms side and 7 on my dads. My mom and dad never married, they broke up when I was five years old, and when my dad moved out, I stayed living with my mom. My mom is bipolar and manic depressant and my older sister, my moms daughter, was a spoiled brat until I was born. From very early on, my sister would constantly tell me that I ruined her life, that she wished I was never born, that she hated me, etc. Unfortunately for me, my mom wanted me and my sister to get along so I was always around her. She would read books to me and have me around all the time. Because of this, I’m pretty sure anyway, I grew up to be very gifted. I entered kindergarten a year early, and all of my school life felt easy. I was never challenged. Even the gifted classes I was out in were hardly anything to me. Now, I know this sounds like I’m bragging, but I take no pride in these words or my talents. I’ll tell you why later.

Growing up was surprisingly difficult for me. My mom was struggling to support both of us so we moved house a lot. We moved into our grandma’s house at one point. That was when it was the worst. My sister would constantly tell on me, but when I turned the tables on her, she’d beg me not to. She’d promise that she’d ever tell on me again, and then turned around and threw away said promise as soon as I let it go. I was the “problematic” child. My sister berated me constantly, telling me that I was bad at dancing and singing, which is still one of my passions to this day. It stuck with me. Everything does.

Fastforward to middle school. I had spent the last few years of my life with a less than agreeable sister and a difficult to approach mother. I’ll get into my father’s deal in a little bit. Elementary school hadn't been good either. I was at a higher level than lost of people, so I would occupy my free time with books. PE and outside activities never intrigued me as much as most kids, and so I was then deemed the class outcast all the way until about 7th grade. Up until 5th, I trusted others way too easily. Someone could walk up to me, tell me their name and say they wanted to be friends and within a week I'd be telling them all my secrets and family troubles. It was stupid really, but no one taught me any different. I was betrayed a lot, and everyone in our grade knew things about me that I'm embarrassed to admit. It was heartbreaking to 5th grade me. Why was everyone so mean?

I was always more of a tomboy, even as a child. The girls were too "girly" for me and the boys didn't converse with girls so I was, again, alone.

By the time I got to 6th grade, I had already adapted a system. Go to school, do well, read in your free time, go home. No friends, no acquaintances, nothing. It was how I kept my heart safe. And it worked for a while. Luckily, I moved schools when I came up with the system, so no one was too keen on approaching me in the first place. Then, 7th grade came around. And holy god, was it horrible. For some reason, I made a friend. Now, she was nice. Very nice. We bonded over Undertale, she was great. We're still friends to this day. But I kept her at arms length, cause I had just broken the system. That wasn't apart of the plan. Even worse, I made two more friends. And worse than that, I developed my first ever crush on someone. All of my plans were failing, my walls were crumbling. But when these walls fell, my heart grew weaker still, cause having friends isn't as great as it should be. Especially in middle school.

Our small group was riddled with mental illnesses, and we'd joke about wanting to die at least twice a day. It was how we coped, even though none of us made any effort to get better. It wasn't the best, but 8th grade was somehow worse.

Our group split right down the middle. Half of the group wanted nothing to do with the other half. And I was stuck in the middle. I liked everyone, they were all my friends. How could I possibly choose between them?

And then, as if things couldn't get worse, one of my closest friends in that group called me out. Apparently, I had become so dependent on them, on her, that I was becoming "too outgoing" and annoying, and she stopped responding to me. I had let her inside my walls and she still hurt me deeper than anyone else. I apologized profusely. I had gotten so used to not being a bother that losing her trust was one of my worst fears. It scarred me. I spent days sulking, just wanting to properly apologize to her. I wanted to hear from her, I needed to. Eventually she forgave me, but the damage had been done. That was when I had come up with a new idea. Another system. I didn't execute it, but the idea sprouted in the back of my mind.

8th grade was the year of my first panic attack. It was dumb, really. I woke up, got ready for school, and realized there was an assignment I forgot to do that was due later that day. I had had a perfect record. My homework was never late, and it terrified me to no end to think that my streak would end like that. I sat against the wall of my bedroom, covering my mouth and hoping that I was crying quietly, so I wouldn't wake my dad. No one to help me, no one to ground me. I was spiraling for too long. The only thing that snapped me out of it was myself. I had to go to school or I'd be late, that was how I got myself out of that darkness. Pathetic, I know.

High school was a different battle field in and of itself. Sophomore, Junior and Senior year were pretty good, so I'll only talk about Freshman year.

I was very scared of high school. All the middle school teachers said high school teachers were ruthless, mean and impatient. They kicked people out of class, out of the whole school. School had been easy but high school was different. The mere mention of it made me nervous. Oh yeah, I haven't mentioned it before, but I have pretty bad anxiety. It's primarily social anxiety, but it gets bad at the worst possible times. I think I might have depression but I'm too scared to bring it up with my therapist, so that'll probably stay unsolved.

Freshman year wasn't very bad. It wasn't worse than 8th grade at least. What really got me was the workload. Self discipline, time management, all the mature people things that I had to learn. It made my anxiety skyrocket. I would be finishing assignments during lunch, mere hours before they were due. I was a rightful mess, on all accounts.

I had a big fallout with my dad, and that just made all of my problems worse. I'll get into that another time, seeing as this post is already too long.

Finishing high school was a breeze compared to earlier years. I made a small group of friends, many of which are onto bigger adventures in life. I haven't started college yet, but I haven't talked about what it is that I really wanted to talk about. The thing that's really been on my mind.

I'm nobody. I'm not just a nobody. I'm nobody. I honestly don't know who I am. My entire life, I had forfeited finding myself in favor of catering to others. I relinquished my personal freedom to make others life easier. I listened to everything my parents told me to do. No question, no complaints. I bend and broke myself to make my sister happy. I gave her so much of myself that I didn't have any left for me, yet she's still not happy with me. My friends don't know who I am. My mind is constantly thinking, I'm constantly drowning in dark thoughts and harmful words but they don't know. I hide it from them, I hid everything from them. I told them not to worry about it. And eventually, they did. It hurt. It stung. But it was my fault entirely.

My dad called me a robot once. I followed orders with feeling or hesitance. He was right. My constant thought process is all of my responsibilities. All of the things I need to do for someone else. Taking a break is impossible. Mt family needs me to function properly so they can live freely and without regret. I can't do that.

I can't eat what I want without making my mom angry in some way. I can't say or do or buy or receive anything without getting into an argument with my sister about how I'm somehow the spoiled one. Hell, I take a nap for too long and my mom gets upset at me. My dad is another ball game all on his own, so I won't talk about him right now.

What I'm trying to say it that my life isn't mine. My life is spent caring for others. Listening to other people over myself.

I'm horrible at taking compliments. I brush them off, deny them, pretty much anything other than saying thank you. It's not that I'm not grateful. I'm just tired of them. I've been showered with praise all my life, but it's bittersweet when you're taken advantage of every day. Taken for granted endlessly. They start to fade together.

Generic, everyday praise infuriates me to the highest level. Don't you dare say that cookie cutter bullshit to me. You think I haven't heard "oh you're so smart" before?? You think I haven't heard "you're beautiful" before??? I understand that you're just trying to be nice, but fuck off with that run of the mill fuckery.

Compliment me

How about you say, thank you for trying so hard for us?

Or, I see you helping out. I appreciate it.

Or, god forbid, you cab relax for once, I can take care of it.

Because god knows that I need a fucking break sometimes!

Oh, take a day off? Unless you want to come over here and handle my 101 responsibilities for this day alone, I suggest you shut that shit up right now.

Telling to take it easy doesn't fix the fucking problem.

One thing I know I do have are some major anger issues. That's not easily solved. None of my problems are.

At this point, I feel like I am my problems. Without my anxiety and my anger, who am I?

Who would I be?

Would I be better? Worse? Who would I have become?

I don't want help because help would change me. Help would get rid of me.

Whoever that me may be.

[zenithlux]

Cadence Update - CH 13

SURPRISE

I know I said I was going to lower my updates, but then I went on a writing spree and my backlog is back up to a good level. So here we were! With a random Sunday update! Hope you enjoy  🥰 🥰

In which Nero and Vergil finally talk for longer than a minute and Roxy shows off a special talent.

Catch up on the story here!

------------

Ain’t nobody bring us down, down, down down, down, down They could try but we’re gonna wear the crown You could go another round Round, round, round, round, round, round Wish you luck, but you’re not bringing us down

POP/STARS - KDA

------------

Nero visited Devil May Cry two hours before Vergil planned to move out.

It was spectacular timing on his part for a multitude of reasons. Vergil had had every intention to leave that morning instead, but Dante had practically begged that Vergil stay one more day to “leave things in good shape”. Then, just a few hours after that, Vergil had unplugged the phone, ensuring no distractions that weren’t personal, and forwarded half a day's wages to Dante instead so his brother wouldn’t complain. (At least, not more than he was going to already). The only reason Vergil hadn’t left yet was because he was waiting on Roxy’s return message and had gotten distracted reorganizing the admittedly meager pile of books in Dante’s old duffel bag. 

So, when Nero walked in with the confidence of a skittish feline, Vergil assumed the best thing to do was get the disappointment out of the way first. “Dante’s not here.”

Nero’s eyes narrowed, but he did stand a little straighter. Vergil wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. “I’m not here for him, jackass.” 

That gave Vergil pause. And, for a long moment, he simply stared into the abyss of the half-empty bag before him, as it was marginally easier than meeting the eyes of his son. Thankfully, regaining his composure took only a few seconds, and he turned with his usual, indifferent grace. “Is that so?”

“Crazy ain’t it?” Nero muttered as he plopped down on the couch. “But I promised Kyrie I’d come, and I’ve been pummeled by Nico more than enough for the year.” He glanced at Vergil without really looking at him. “So let’s talk, old man.”

That was the closest thing to ‘father’ Vergil had ever gotten from Nero. He was also painfully aware of what that said about the current state of their relationship.  “What about?” Vergil said carefully. The last thing he wanted was for Nero to storm right back out the front door and proclaim him a lost cause (or something like that). Though, given the sound of the van that had to be lingering about a block away, he had a feeling that Nico would run Nero down before letting that happen. “We’ve attempted this before.”

“Yeah we have,” Nero said, his confidence returning as he stretched out on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. Except that only made Vergil tense up even more. This was the first time he had ever seen Nero in this relaxed state without Vergil himself being banished to another room. What did Nero want from him? What was he expecting him to do? It could be anything, really. Kyrie had mentioned the children at the orphanage. Nico had mentioned the influx of silly jobs that had kept Nero from the more important things. Dante had mentioned a potential clean up and rebuilding of Redgrave City. And while all of those things were important, Vergil knew he couldn’t agree to any of it. Not right now. Not when he finally had someone who needed him. Someone who wanted to rely on him. Not someone who felt obligated to.

So what would he do if Nero asked? If he said no… would things go back to the way they were?

“Nico told me you’ve got a new job.”

Vergil blinked, momentarily stunned before he caught himself. “And where did she hear that?” 

Nero snorted with a rather dramatic, Dante-esque eye roll. “Where do you think?”

“Dante had no right to…”

“It’s that woman, right?” Nero said. “Roxanna or something like that?”

Vergil resisted the urge to sigh. “Yes,” He admitted, impressed at how even his voice was. “I am assisting her for the time being.”

“That’s a whole lot of words for ‘babysitter’”. 

That time, Vergil didn’t bother hiding his annoyance. “Do not patronize her,” He said. “It was difficult enough for her to request anyone’s help. The last thing she needs is my family belittling her for her courage.”

At first, Nero said nothing, but Vergil didn’t miss the way his son’s jaw dropped before he thought to clench it. “I’ll admit,” Nero said, his voice as stiff as his posture. “I expected you to defend yourself.”

Perplexed, Vergil said, “for what, exactly?”

Nero shook his head. “Look,” He said as he practically jumped off the couch. “I know you and I started off on the wrong foot. Most dads don’t greet their sons with a sword to the gut.”

“Neither do most sons.”

Nero shrugged. “You deserved it.”

“And I knew you’d live.”

“Bullshit,” He snapped before taking a slow breath and continuing. “You’ve done a lot of pretty terrible stuff, and I ain’t quite ready to forgive ya.” He bounced a little from foot to foot but met Vergil’s gaze with perfect clarity. “But I’d be an idiot to wait for you to make up for all of that.” When Vergil didn’t respond (what did one say to such a statement?), Nero continued. “I came here to ask for a favor. Something you could do to prove that you really have changed or aren’t the bad guy or whatever.” Nero shrugged again; a nervous tick? Maybe. Vergil hadn’t observed him enough to know. “But then Dante mentioned that job, and Nico confirmed it and I just…” He sighed. “That’s proof enough, right?” 

“That isn’t for me to decide.”

“Course not,” Nero said. “But I need to stop being an ass about it and give you a chance.”

And of all the things Nero could have said, that shocked Vergil the most. And for the first time in as long as he could remember, he didn’t have a clue what to say. “You… what?”

Nero huffed. “You heard me.”

“Yes, but…”

“Look,” Nero said as he jabbed his finger into Vergil’s chest before Vergil realized his son had even crossed the room. “All I’m asking is that you prove to me and to everyone else that you’re serious about this. Got it? No more towers or giant trees or whatever it is that demons try to raise nowadays.” Vergil started to speak, but Nero cut him off. “Sure. You have that half-demon form of yours, and I’m sure as hell not telling you to stop using it. But for now, you’re human, just like the rest of us.”

Vergil felt numb. Yes was the obvious and easy answer. Yet his heart seized at the thought. Human. He was human… did he even know what that meant anymore?  He’d never had a chance to be human before. He’d never wanted to be.

But that’s what he was doing. These jobs. His friendship with Roxy. This entire conversation…

Slowly, he nodded. “That’s all I’m trying to do.”

That, at the very least, was the truth.

Nero sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Then I have one more request.”

“And that would be…”

A sudden HONK startled them both, followed by the screeching of tires. Dante’s voice echoed into the building, “are we going kid or not?”

Vergil’s eyes narrowed. “Going where?”

Nero chuckled sheepishly. “To see your new pad.”

“And why is Dante in the van?”

“Nico’s already there,” Nero said. “Dante had planned to go ahead of us but Nico wasn’t too keen on that so…”

“Why would Dante go first?”

Now, Nero’s face was scarlet. “Something about buttering her up or enjoying dinner or something. I’m not really…”

He trailed off as Vergil slung the bag over his shoulder, and grabbed a spare backpack as he stormed past Nero with murder in his eyes. 

-----------------

The van was the only reason all three of them got there in one piece, as Vergil had no interest in paying Nico to fix it. 

Dante’s jacket, however, wasn’t so lucky.

“That was my best one,” Dante sniffed as he shivered despite the almost sweltering heat. The jacket itself was in the van’s trash can, shredded to unwearable pieces. Of course, Vergil knew he had another one to replace it. He wasn’t that cruel. But his brother had to learn somehow.

Learn what exactly, Shakespeare? Griffon huffed.

Vergil didn’t have an answer to that.

“I didn’t even do anything wrong!” Dante said as his expression twisted into a goofy grin. “I was just going to be nice to Sunshine Verge! I’ve gotta cheer her up before she has to deal with you for the rest of however long.”

“Shut up,” Nero said as he kicked open the door of the complex and practically yanked Dante inside. “I have to clean up enough blood as it is.”

“At least you two are talking again,” Dante said. 

Both Nero and Vergil paused, exchanged glances, and looked away. “Guess you could say that,” Nero muttered.

We got it all in our hands now, So can you handle what we’re talking about?

All three of them paused as Vergil’s eyes drifted to Roxy’s doorway. “Is that music?” Dante said as his nose wrinkled. “Some pop nonsense.” 

We’re so tough Not scared to show you up Can you feel the rush now?

“The kids love this song,” Nero said with an odd sense of nostalgia. 

Dante snorted. “The kids, huh?”

Nico’s groan echoed down the hallway. “My word Rox, you’re way too good at this.”

When Roxy spoke, Vergil thought she sounded breathless. “Stop distracting me.”

“But I want to win!”

Wish ‘em luck but they’re not bringing us down…

“Well you’re not going to!” Roxy said. 

“I can see that!” A thud cut her short. “Did your dragon just throw a pillow at me?”

Dante snapped to the doorway and put a finger to his lips with a dramatic wink as he reached for the knob. He pushed it open with shocking tenderness as if he planned on sneaking up on a demon on the other side. Instead, he stepped far out of the way and gestured to Vergil, mouthing “come look.” And, for the briefest of moments, Vergil considered walking away. He knew where his apartment was. Roxy had given him a key a few days ago. He hadn’t seen it yet, and that sounded like a better idea than entertaining Dante. 

But then Nero peered in and gave a low whistle. “Damn,” He whispered. “She’s pretty good.”

So, Vergil stepped forward with a quiet huff, more than aware that Nero didn’t have a clue what Dante was trying to pull. 

And while Vergil didn’t know what to expect, Roxy swinging small, black devices of some kind around in the air in front of the television was not it. 

A part of him thought the scene should have been a lot funnier than he thought it was. Nico was sitting on the arm of the couch behind her, glaring at Kuro. And Kuro, a bit larger than his usual child form, was glaring right back, tail wrapped around a bright red pillow as a gray one lay discarded at Nico’s feet. Aki was sitting between them, head bobbing back and forth either confused or excited at the potential pillow war that was about to unfold.

Then there was Roxy herself. The device on her head was massive, pushing her ponytail up far higher than she usually put it. She was swinging into nothing, but he could hardly call it flailing. Her movements were strangely controlled, and it took Vergil another second to realize she was moving exactly on pace with the song that was playing. Then, he saw the katana like swords on the TV, swinging perfectly in time with her. Boxes shot forward from black nothingness, but she didn’t miss a single one. Her movements were fast. Controlled. Calculated. Precise.

Nero groaned beside him. “Holy shit,” He said as he glared at Dante. “You were actually serious.”

Dante snorted. “Of course I was. Your old man is…” 

A summoned sword appeared as Vergil glanced behind him. “I’m what, Dante?”

Dante grinned as he flicked the sword. It didn’t move, but he didn’t seem to care. “Infatuated.” 

Vergil scoffed. “I’m shocked you know what that word even means.”

“And you’re not denying it.”

“I am not…”

Only winning, winning now Ain’t nobody bring us Down, down, down, down.

With a final, clean slice, Roxy spun toward Nico, tore the headset off, and grinned triumphantly. Behind her, a series of numbers flashed on the screen: 733/733; 630,280 Points. Vergil assumed that score was adequate, as Roxy loudly proclaimed “Beat that, Nico!”

The younger woman burst into laughter. “A perfect score at that speed? You must have been practicing that for days!”

Roxy’s demeanor turned sheepish. “I have a lot of free time.”

“Clearly,” Nico hopped off the couch as she took the controllers. “Did you like what you saw, V-man?”

Roxy jumped, her face flushing in that way it always did when she was caught off guard. Though Vergil noted that she never blushed when the others surprised her. At least… not as far as he had seen. 

He found that oddly endearing. 

“Hello,” Roxy said with an awkward wave. “I forgot how quiet you are.” 

“Alright kiddos,” Dante said as he shoved his way through the front door. “Move aside.” He swung his arm in front of him and pointed his thumb dramatically at his chest. Then, after a quick wink, he said, “Uncle Dante is here.”

The awkward silence that fell at the proclamation was almost enough to steal Vergil’s composure. It didn’t help when Roxy and Kuro exchanged glances, as if uncertain whether to invite the younger twin in or kick him out. Aki was the only one who responded, chirping excitedly as he hopped up on his back paws and yanked one of his wings in toward his chest; an attempt at imitation. It was enough to make Roxy giggle before she could stop herself, and that alone opened the floodgates for everyone else. Vergil could only stare, perplexed, as the rest of his family nearly collapsed with laughter. 

“You’re…” Nico said as she tried to catch her breath. “The worst.”

“What is he even announcing himself for?” Nero said before forcing a long gasp to try and control himself. It didn’t work. “And the bird… what… why?”

“Imitation is the best form of flattery,” Dante said as he scratched the bird's head. Aki toppled with a startled cry, but rolled over and landed on his feet with astounding grace. He purred as he rubbed his face against Dante’s hand, and his tail flicked excitedly back and forth. “See?” Dante said as the room finally started to calm down. “He gets it.”

Roxy rolled her eyes as she dropped the headset into Nico’s lap. “He just likes to be pet.” She held her hand out with a quiet whistle. Aki’s head spun to her, startling Nico as he burst from the couch and landed on Roxy’s arm.

Dante coughed loudly as he brushed a pair of feathers out of his hair. “Alright Nico,” He said as he held his hand out. “Let the master show you how it’s done.”

“Hell no!” Nico snapped as she yanked the device away. “It’s my turn!”

“And you honestly think you’re better than both of us?” Nero said as he stormed his way past Vergil and stuck his finger into Dante’s chest. “You’ll trip over the cord sooner than you’ll beat that score.”

“Try me,”

“Vergil?” Roxy said.

Vergil twitched, eyes snapping downward. When did she get there? He hadn’t even seen her move. Yet there she was, standing right by his side as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “I finished up the apartment today,” She continued with a smile. “Wanna go see it while they’re distracted?”

“Are you not worried about your home?”

She shrugged. “Your brother wouldn’t risk losing his pizza money.”

“Money for the bills, you mean?”

She chuckled. “That’s what I said.” Aki chirped as she slid into the hallway. “I think you’re going to love the place, Vergil.”

After one last glance at his family, whose argument had turned into a literal pillow fight with Kuro tossing smaller pillows in pure amusement, Vergil moved to follow her. 

Nelo…

He jerked back as pain shot through his skull. That name… that voice… Why was it tormenting him so?

Open the portal.

His hand reached for Yamato before he jerked it away. 

Open. Open. Open.

“Vergil?” 

He blinked as the voice slipped away. Roxy’s hand hovered close to his chest, and he was certain she had barely stopped herself from touching him outright. Beside him, the apartment had gone silent, and Vergil didn’t dare look at any of his family lest he give it all away. 

“I’m fine,” He said. “I was just…” His mouth went dry at the impending lie. “I’m fine.”

She pulled her hand back to Aki’s head, but the concerned look on her face was almost too much to bear. Vergil hated it with every fiber of his being, especially when he knew it was all his fault. “If you need someone to talk to,” Roxy said. “I’m here.”

Vergil stared at her as she moved down the hallway. Slowly, the world went back to normal. Dante, who had rightfully decided to not ask Vergil what had happened, restarted the argument with the younger hunters, yanking all of their attention back to himself. Kuro, however, hopped off the couch and slid over Vergil’s feet. As his tail brushed Vergil’s ankle, the dragon glanced over his shoulder. “She cares for you, Son of Sparda,” He said with an irritated flick of his tongue. “Do not squander it.” 

Then he was gone. A dozen snowflakes lay in his wake before vanishing completely as if neither they nor the dragon had existed at all.

Ko-fi – Master List – AO3

[kingdombts]

Valiant | jjk [M]

Request: Hello Lexi! I've been dying to request something to you since forever! But my life is preventing me from doing so! Can I request a vampire Jeongguk that really really arrogant and cold meet with a girl that are really feisty and smut! I leave it to you... Thanks

Pairing: Jungook x Y/N

Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: dom!jungkook, cum play, blood play? I guess?, vamp!jungkook, smut (cause I’m sure that’s not obvious with these warnings—), pain kink

Summary: Things that go bump in the night are very real and recently exposed themselves to humans. If there is one quality that describes her, it’s her stubborn curiosity. So, when she happens to run into a rather cute looking vampire, she’s more driven to figure him out than she is to be afraid of him. Jungkook wants to show her that he is not someone to be messed with and the only time she seems to listen to him is when his fingers are knuckle-deep in her cunt.

A/N: big thanks to @cheekychim and @rachelisdun for their help to get this out! Also note this only has light editing so there might be a few errors I missed when I scanned through this. 

“— they have lived peacefully beside of us for a millennium without revealing their true identity. Recently deciding to step out of the shadows, the head of the vampires has announced that they are eager to live alongside us in the night. You won’t need to fear for your safety, there are blood banks being established where you can donate your blood! They say that they don’t drink live blood unless they have consent, but judging by the positive reactions across the rest of the world, many will be in line to get the first bite. I don’t know about you, but I am a little excited. It’s straight out of a book, almost. Join us tomorrow where we will be hosting a few local vampires. Send in your questions, comments, anything to our twitter page at—”

The television screen went blank and she sat in her apartment quietly for a moment, taking the information in. She almost wanted to laugh, ask which of her friends had thought this prank up because it was genius, but she would still murder them with her bare hands. Still, it had been plastered across multiple news stations, all over any sort of social media. She’d seen it earlier while working, but the idea of vampires being real hadn’t clicked in her mind yet. They were her favorite supernatural species, admittedly, but the thought of them leaving her imagination and the pages of books was absurd.

“Your life will stay the same. They’ve lived alongside of us for a fucking millennium. None of this will change. They have a strict code of honor that fucking keeps them from taking a bite of your delectable skin and sucking you dry. Promise,” she huffed sarcastically under her breath. It was one of her running mantras that often included cussing and looking down upon the race that had stepped out almost five years ago. “But nothing has stopped them from syphoning all of your money and rising to the top, especially now that they can threaten you and, fucking hell, and force you to live in an apartment complex that should have burned down years ago because of inflation rates and the shortage of money in your fucking pocket.”

Laws had been put in place since then, yet, all she saw around her was destruction. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad. Sure, her apartment leaked and the walls were paper thin and there were rats living under her kitchen sink, but everything was fine. Dandy. Peachy, even. At least she had heat to get her through the winter. Right? Right? No.

“Maybe if I burn the fucking apartment to the ground, I’ll finally unthaw,” she ranted, mostly to herself. When she spoke, a puff of white air came from her mouth and dispersed into the chilly air. She wrapped her arms around herself a little tighter, her teeth chattering together. Her old sneakers, the same pair she owned since her feet had stopped growing and were held together with old gum and thin pieces of string, kicked at rocks as she made her way down the sidewalk. Tucked safely into her left pocket was enough money for her to buy a blanket, maybe two if she found a good deal. She passed a few people on the way, but she figured she’d scared them off with her muttering and the angry scowl. Good. She didn’t want to talk to anyone.

She was doing her best to make sure her money lasted long enough to pay the rent and buy her necessary things, like food. That was about all she could afford, even though she worked extra shifts at the diner down the road. Vampires had all of the money, they owned everything these days, which left humans with very little unless they were pets to the vampires. A growing trend. She figured it was kind of like having a sugar daddy, but instead of sex, they wanted blood. Or blood and sex. In return, they’d pay for things like new shoes, food, a house, and maybe to make sure the heat fucking worked. That lifestyle was beginning to grow on her.

She’d bugged her landlord about it for the last two days ever since the blasted thing went out, but he’d just waved her off and told her to buy blankets. As if he wasn’t sitting on a pile of money that she paid him each month. It was over three-quarters of her monthly paycheck, for fuck's sake. He must have some sort of stash that he could draw from to pay someone to fix her fucking heat.

The store was warmer compared to the outside air and she was half tempted to hide behind one of the displays and sleep in the store, but she wasn’t very sneaky and she didn’t really want to test the patience of the local police. She grabbed one blanket and stopped on a whim to pick up a pair of fuzzy socks. Those always picked her mood up a little and her last pair had gotten rain on them and, behold, the laundry machines were broken, too! She stopped long enough to pay, watching the cashier, a skinny woman a few years older than her, stuff the blanket (it had large puppy across the front of it) and the blue and purple socks into a bag with the store’s logo on it. She handed her the crumpled money and took the bag and her change and, with one last embracing breath, stepped back out into the cold.

The sun had started setting behind her back on the way to the mall, so it didn’t really surprise her when she was met with the pinkish-orange sky on the way out. She could see bits of it between buildings, the main portion she saw above the road. She quickened her pace a little bit, pushing the sleeve of her jacket out of the way to peer at the cheap digital watch she’d picked up a few months ago. It wouldn’t be long until it was dark, dark enough for the vampires to wake up and explore the streets, and her apartment was a thirty-minute walk. She kept her head down and held tightly to the bag, her shoulders squared a little to attempt to protect her face from the wind and her teeth started knocking together again.

She lived just outside of the main city in apartments that were obviously run down, even from the outside. Gutters were only half attached to the roof and shingles laid out on the pavement around. There weren’t many cars in the parking lot if you could afford a care you could afford a better apartment. She was glad, though, when she saw the buildings, even in the distance. Her pace slowed down a little and she was less nervous about running into a vampire. It was dark outside, dark enough for them to roam, but street lights lit her way. She hurried between the darkness to the next patch of light, running her tongue across her lips again. They were already chapped and cracking, but she’d left her chapstick at home. She could almost smell the mildew of her apartment and taste the cheap bread that probably housed penicillin when she felt a cold hand grab her wrist and jerk her rather rudely into the gap between a different set of apartments. She didn’t cry out or shriek, her teeth were too busy chattering to scream out of surprise.

It wasn’t every day that he found a girl that made him eager to sink his teeth into her skin. After being around for a couple hundred years, Jungkook found that most females started looking the same. Faces would blend together in his memory and it boiled down to blood type and smell. He preferred females to males, they were sweeter and typically smelled better than the overdose of cologne and sweat that gathered on their counterparts. The girl he held in front of her was shaking, but not from fear. No, he could tell when humans were afraid of them. A glance down at her bag, he could read the logo on it and see the top of a pair of fuzzy socks and the corner of a dark blanket. Ah, she was cold. He couldn’t remember what it felt like to be warm. To be full of blood. He’d been changed, he wasn’t born a vampire, which discluded him from certain circles. He didn’t really mind, his life was good. He had a better apartment than the dingy houses around them and he didn’t have to worry about many trivial things.

The only thing he really found himself worrying about was where he would get his next meal. That was important. To him, anyways. He needed to eat, he wanted to eat. God, he’d never imagined blood being so delicious. Honestly, as a human, the sight had made him squeamish, but he could hear her blood moving through her veins and he was more than eager to sink his white, pointy teeth into the side of her neck.

“Um, excuse you,” she spoke, uncurling her fingers and pushing at the vampire’s chest too, hopefully, put space between him and where he had her pinned against the wall. “Look, I am really just not having it today. I am fucking cold. Find some other whore to get your blood from.”

A little taken back by her bluntness and her shove, he stared at her for a moment. Normally humans, especially the females, would be screaming and squirming, trying to get away and begging for their lives. “You shoved me.”

“Wow, captain obvious, I am so glad that your deductive skills are on par tonight. Really, you ought to try to play Sherlock in the next TV adaptation,” she snapped, rolling her eyes. She shook her head a little and tried to conceal the way she was shivering. She might have had a bit of a death wish, after all, not many people batted an eye if one went missing. Sure, there were laws in place, but that was about it. It was one thing to have laws and another to actively enforce them. Not many judges wanted to go head to head with a vampire, it was like signing your own death wish. “Seriously, though, I am on my way to put on fuzzy socks and drink cheap wine and continue having my mid-life crisis and I’m not even thirty, yet.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes at the girl, but his grip on her stayed the same. There was no chance in hell that he would let someone like her get away from him. It had been so long since he’d seen a pretty face and, dammit, he was going to drink from her. “Can you take being threatened a little more seriously? Most people would beg for their lives, cry some, actually act scared.”

“Scared? Of you? Have you looked in the mirror? Your cheeks are more full than a baby’s and you don’t even look like you’ve even reached the halfway point in puberty. You probably only have those muscles because you’re a vamp,” she snorted. “I’ve seen kids that are half your size and more intimidating than you.”

She could see the deep frown forming on his lips, but not only that, the almost childlike stubborn way his shoulders squared and how his lips formed a pout. God, was he knew to this whole vampire thing? She rolled her eyes and pushed at him again and this time he let her. She stood there for a moment, no longer trapped, but not really wanting to go, either. Something about vampires just got under her skin and made her hate them for making her be so curious. She snorted and started walking out of the alley that he’d trapped her in. “Come find me when you’re actually something to be scared about, kid.”

She didn’t look back on the rest of her walk and she didn’t give him much thought for the next few days either.

God, she was drunk. She didn’t get drunk often, but when she did, she did it well. No half-assing here, thank you very much. She didn’t have money for all the drinks she’d downed that night, but all she had to do was bat her eyes a little and lean forward just enough to give the man she was eyeing a glimpse of her cleavage and drinks would appear in front of her. Luckily, she knew the bartender, so the likelihood of her drink getting something extra slipped in was low. Yoongi was as observant as he was grumpy and she loved him for it. He had offered to walk her home after his shift ended, but waiting another thirty minutes seemed outrageous to her and she’d decided to brave the cold on her own.

It took her a moment to get her jacket on her shoulders and even longer to get both of her arms through it, but she’s stubborn and determined to do it on her own. She did manage it after Yoongi scoffed and called her a ‘fucking idiot’, but she got it, which was the important thing. She got out of the club easier than she got into her jacket and began her walk home. At least she thought about the walk between her apartment and the club, she’d worn comfortable shoes.

She’d just walked out of the main doors of the club, pushing through people that were heading into the club. She was a little on the short side, but she used her elbows to an advantage to get them to move, ignoring the curses that often followed. Her attention went away from the line and she began trudging back to her apartment on wobbly legs, but her eyes caught someone standing in the shadows.

It was him, the not-so-intimidating vampire. Giggling to herself, she decided against her more warning thoughts and, instead, walked (stumbled) boldly up to him. His attention turned away from the line of people talking and dancing to the loud music that could be heard from the club, even outside of the brick walls. She could tell when he noticed her, a scowl immediately lined his lips and his eyes narrowed.

“Are most humans this stupid, or is it just you?” he asked when she got a few more steps closer, and she rolled her eyes. Even drunk, she was going to defend her mind. There was nothing wrong with her approaching him, it certainly had nothing to do with how her thoughts had revolved around him ever since that first night.

“‘M not stupid, you are,” she snorted, “standin’ out here against the wall like some sorta stalker.”

“Ah, so you’re stupid and drunk,” he spoke, rolling his eyes. Even with the foot and a half between them, he could smell the bitter alcohol on her and it made him wrinkle his nose.

“I’m not that drunk! Just had a few shots, ‘s all,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning right back at him. “I came over here to tell you that you shouldn’t follow me, just cause I was the first human to stand up to you.”

“Following you? Darling, you wish. If I was following you, you’d know it. Unless that’s what you want, hmm? I bet you’re just dying to have my attention on you. Maybe you even want me to bite you, sink my teeth into your neck right here?” he asked, and in a flash, he was standing in front of her and brushing his fingers across the left side of her neck. She stayed silent, but she saw his lips twitch when she shivered. “Don’t worry, little one, you’re not the first one to pine after me. Maybe one day I’ll give in, but not tonight when you’re drunk off your ass, if I’m going to do that, I want you to remember it.”

She didn’t want to admit that his words were affecting her. She had a low pain tolerance, but it was then that she realized she’d be more than willing to let this stranger, this vampire, have his way with her. It was like a switch was flicked in her mind and she knew at that moment, she was fucked. She was as scared as she was excited.

“Let's get you home before you pass out,” he spoke after her silence stretched on. She wasn’t sure how he knew where she lived, but part of her was grateful. Sleep was extending its long fingers and beckoning her to join it. The weight of her eyes caused her to sway and stumble into him a few times on the way there and he practically carried her up the stairs.

“Keys?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“Doesn’t lock well, to begin with. Should just open,” she whispered, her voice sounded far away and muffled to her own ears, but the slur was still there. Sure enough, the door opened with a creek that made her grimace and he urged her into her home.

“Don’t vampires have to be invited in?” she yawned, but she didn’t pay attention to his eye roll or the fact he didn’t answer her. Instead, he asked where her bedroom was and she pointed it out with a heavy arm.

The next day, she was certain she’d be more alarmed that she’d shown a stranger her home, how the door didn’t lock, where she slept. Right now, though, he was sitting her on the edge of her bed and kneeling in front of her to untie her shoes and slip them off of her feet with his eyebrows furrowed and his lip caught between his teeth. The concentration lining his features made him even more endearing than he was before and she quickly memorized his expression. “Your shoes are falling apart.”

She nodded her head to answer him, at this point her throat felt like cotton and she was either going to throw up or pass out. She’d hope for the latter.

After her shoes were off, he stood up again and gently pushed her body until she was laying down, but he realizes the covers were still under her and she giggled. Amusement flashed across his own features, fast enough that she might have missed it if she wasn’t so focused on him. He pulled the covers out from under her and tucked them under her chin.

“You’re still not s’good at this intimidating thing,” she whispered, her eyes closing and her heavy limbs laying limp by her sides. She’d forget the way he chuckled by the time she woke up, or even his reply whispered to dead ears in the darkness of her room.

“Goodnight, little one.”

He was avoiding her, the stubborn human. Jungkook didn’t like getting attached and she was quickly becoming a recurring thought in his mind. He hated it. Course, he didn’t really do anything about it, either. He was sure that this was just a phase, that with every time he sipped from a human that wasn’t her, the memory of her would fade away, but instead, it was the opposite. He found himself yearning for her, imagining himself sinking his teeth into the place he’s touched. He was intoxicated by her smell, like sweet flowers and fresh rain that made his head spin and his gums hurt.

Which is why, whenever he got a whiff of her scent or spotted her ahead of him on the streets, he headed in the opposite direction. He did, however, drop off a new pair of shoes for her at her apartment.

It was his one good act of the year, he told himself. It didn’t even put a dent in his wallet and he could push off saving cats out of trees now. He wasn’t really concerned about her safety, he told himself. Which was why he didn’t go and put a new lock on her door (aside from the fact he had no idea how to do that—that had no reason as to why he didn’t).

Of course, he thought that she would be better now about her own safety and that she’d be avoiding him, too. Of course, he was too eager to settle for that thought that he didn’t realize he’d been spotted.

His nightly hangout had become the area around her apartment. Not because she was there, but because there were humans that mingled there that were, ah, kind enough to let him drink from them. Not because her apartment was easy to get into and she was the best meal on the menu. Certainly not because he wanted to protect a soft, weak human.

“Y/N.”

He turned towards the voice and cursed himself for not noticing her sooner. “What?”

“Y/N. That’s my name. You know, the thing that people go by, traditionally given to them at birth,” she answered dryly, shoving her fingers into her pockets. A glance down showed him she’d received his gift. “I figured if we were on gifting terms, you ought to know mine.”

She wasn’t surprised to see annoyance on his features, lit up by the streetlight a few feet away from them. “Well?”

“Well, what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Legend has it, you’re supposed to answer with your name when someone introduces theirs,” she answered and he snorted.

“Legend says a lot of things,” he answered, a sharp grin rising to pull at his lips, “like how vampires are supposed to be invited in before they can enter a house.”

He was surprised to hear her giggle, then her giggle turn into full-blown laughter that echoed in his ears and made his knees weaker than what he’d ever admit to. “Jungkook.”

“What?” she asked as her laughter died down and he wanted to hear it keep going. He frowned in annoyance, whether from her laughter dying or her lack of common sense, or maybe both.

“My name.”

“You’ve been avoiding me, Jungkook,” she said and, god, how sweet his name sounded on her lips. He wanted to hear her scream it and his cock twitched at the thought. He needed to keep it together, to act like the dignified vampire he was and not the rampant teenage girl that dropped her underwear for any hot guy with a car.

“Why does it matter?” he asked her, dark eyes finally turning away from staring at nothingness—anything but at her. His eyes searched her because he wanted her to say it, he wanted her to bring up what he said the other night because he wanted it. He wanted her so bad and he couldn’t smell the alcohol on her, just the petals and raindrops.

“Well, I just thought that after the other night, you’d, y’know, want to see me again,” she answered and he wanted to tell her just how right she was. That he had wanted to see her again, but he’s proud and he says nothing.

She shifted on her feet a little and looked down, hesitating for just a second before a fierce look took over her face. He could see her clenching her jaw and her eyes narrowed a little up at him. “I just wanted to say that I’ve been thinking about what you said that night, and you’re right.”

“Oh? About what?” he asked, though he knew damn well what she was talking about.

“About me wanting you.”

He didn’t expect her to come out and admit to it that bluntly, so he stayed quiet for a moment longer before he came back to the conversation at hand. “And what do you want me to do?”

He was acting as uninterested in the conversation as he could, but this was the best conversation he was having all year. In all of his years. Yet, his senses were more intune in hers than they’d ever been. He could hear her breathing, the way it caught in her throat and he could hear her faint heartbeat, racing out of her chest.

He could see the hesitation on her features as their eyes searched one another’s faces, but she seemed to give in and finally opened her mouth, “I want to have sex with you, and, well, it’d be okay if you bit me, so long as you don’t do something drastic like—”

“Kill you?” he interrupted, a toying smile on his lips and he walked forward a few more steps until she was pushing herself back into the wall of the alley they were in. They were fairly close to the entrance, but it was late and it would be stupid for any human to be out. Which, explained why she was out. Perhaps he should find out how to put a lock on the outside of the door, it’d be easier that way than trying to make sure she stayed safe—not that he cared about some weak, puny human girl just because she was pretty and he was determined to prove her wrong. “Don’t worry, darling, I have bigger plans for you than draining you.”

By this point, his fingers were digging into her hips and she was looking up at him with wide eyes that were much too trusting. His silly, fierce, naive little human. His fingers hooked through the loops of her jeans and he pulled her a little closer towards him, though a few more steps pushed her farther into the wall at the same time.

“You really should be scared of me, you know,” he told her, but while he spoke, his lips traced up her neck lightly, the vein pulsing under her skin calling out to him, begging for him to stick his teeth into it and taste how sweet she was.

“Give me a reason to be,” she snapped.

“You know what I like to do with challenges?” he asked her. His fingers had moved from her belt loops and to the waste of her jeans, slipping under her shirt and tracing across her hips and stomach. Her mind was racing with thoughts that were barely coherent and her whole body felt sensitive. Every touch of his fingers tracing across her skin, even just the slightest bit, made her legs quiver and her breath get caught in her throat.

“What?” she whispered hoarsely, but she cleared her throat afterward. She didn’t want to show him he was affecting her, but she was too late. If her breathing didn’t betray her, her shaking legs would. The way she was leaning against the wall, his body pressing into hers was the only reason she was still standing upright.

“Ruin them,” he told her, his lips finally pressing to her neck in a sweet kiss, his fingers slipping up her shirt to trace the bottom wire of her bra. If he had been anyone else, she would have been ashamed of the lewd whimper that came out of her mouth or the way she submissively tilted her head to the side and arched her back out for encouragement.

She almost whined again when he pulled off of her completely and she stumbled a little as she attempted to support herself. Her mouth was already open, about to ask him what the fuck he thought he was doing if he was just going to leave her like that, but he was already ahead of her.

“Ah, don’t worry. I’m not done with you yet, but unless you want me to fuck you against a cold brick wall, we should head back to your place,” he told her, his expression as arrogant as hers was needy.

She wasn’t sure if it was just her blank mind or if time sped up, but they were back in her apartment in no time. This time, he didn’t hesitate to open the door and lead her in with a steady grip on her waist. She barely made it into her small, leak-ridden living room before he was spinning around and crashing his lips against hers.

His lips were cool and soft and she could feel the peaks of his teeth against her bottom lip. His hands found her hips and he led her backwards until she was stumbling over the threshold between her bedroom and the main room, but his grip was steady and didn’t let her fall. She stopped just long enough to kick her shoes off, but then her arms went around his neck and he pushed her onto the bed, falling down on top of her.

The mattress that she’d had since she was 12 creaked underneath their sudden weight and she saw his arms tense on either side of her head with the muscles bulging as he caught himself. His eyes were dark and when he grinned down at her, she got the first real look at his teeth.

He pulled her shirt up over her head, supporting himself with his legs on either side of her rather than with his arms. “Maybe now I can teach you how to fucking behave.”

His words went straight to her core and she let out a needy whine. Her hips moved up in an attempt to grind against him, anything to help make him as impatient as she felt. Her fingers found his shirt, too, and almost copied his actions of pulling it off over his head, but his tight grip on her wrists stopped her. He pushed her arms up above her head and his eyes narrowed down at her in a way that should scare her more than it turned her on. “Keep your arms there, doll, or else I’ll stop and you want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?”

She numbly nodded her head and he was satisfied that she was being so obedient. Now only if she was that way when it came to more practical things like staying the fuck away from vampires. Though, he couldn’t bring himself to complain vocally. The needy look on her face and the way her breasts swelled in the confines of her bra alone were enough to keep his jaw clenched to keep his own noises from filling the air. His hand let go of her wrists with one last lingering glare to let her know that he was serious about her staying still. His fingers traced light shapes across the side of her neck, across her shoulders and down past the delicate peaks of her collarbones until she was whining for him. Her back arched off the bed and pushed her breasts closer to him and her legs were trembling slightly and he hadn’t even touched her yet.

“You need to be patient to get what you want, little one,” he hummed, though he didn’t cease his movements. He slipped her out of her bra and tossed it over the end of the bed with little worry for where it landed. His gaze was hungry on her and she was having a hard time doing as he asked.

He told her to be still and she wanted nothing more than to reach forward and run her nails down his skin, pulling him closer. She wanted to undress him and slip her hand between them and pull at his cock until he was whimpering and whining for her. She wanted to leave pretty marks on his skin that would warn anyone that he was already taken. But, she saw the haughtiness in his gaze and the pulsing between her legs warned her against making him angry. She wanted him to touch her, even if his nonchalant pace pissed her off.

His fingers continued their light torment until they reached her breasts. They pinched and pulled at her nipples in a way that hurt just as much as it brought her pleasure, but she was eagerly welcoming the pain. He looked up at her with a coy smirk and slowly moved down her body until he could wrap his pretty lips around her nipple and she whined. His tongue pressed flat against it and then he’d suck harshly and pull back with a pop that met her ears and only made her wetter.

With his heightened senses, he could hear her heart beating with how close he was to her and he could smell her, god he could smell her. He continued his descent down her body, but he was careful not to rush, even if that was what he wanted to do. This wasn’t about what he wanted, not entirely. This was about her getting punished and showing her that he was someone she would listen to.

He’d slept with countless girls before in his long life, but none of them had gotten him this eager. He wanted her to break, for her resolve to crumble until she was begging for his cock. After listening to her degrade him, compare him to a child, he wasn’t going to give in until he got exactly what he wanted.

“I can smell you, fuck, are you really that wet? I’ve hardly touched you. You’re such an eager little slut,” he told her, relishing in the way her whole body trembled. “Oh, you like that? You like it when I call you a slut?”

She didn’t answer him, but he didn’t need a vocalization to hear how her heart raced or the way her legs squeezed together. He continued moving down until he was pushing her legs apart and settling between them. When her legs spread, he could smell her even more. He moved forward until he was nuzzling his nose against the crotch of her jeans. Her cheeks flushed even darker and she started to squirm in his grip, but his fingers grabbed her hips and held her still so she couldn’t get away from him. He wasn’t sure if it was the obscurity of his actions or the feeling of his nose clumsily bumping into her clit, but the smell got even stronger.

He pulled back with a devilish smirk that twisted his features into an even darker look. His fingers hooked into her jeans again and, without bothering to unbutton them, he pulled them down over her ass and until he could push them off the bed.

His nose pressed into her again, but this time he let his mouth fall open and his tongue hang out. He pressed it firmly against her opening through her underwear, then licked firmly until he reached her clit. He could feel her hips straining against his arms, but he kept her still. He didn’t want her bucking into him, but he did want her to feel every movement of his tongue. The noises she was making above him were raunchy enough to make him blush, and he was a vampire for fuck's sake.

Her mind was battling itself to submit to him. She wasn’t a submissive person by nature, she always had an attitude about something. She wanted to submit to him, though, and as much as the thought surprised her, it also enthralled her. His tongue against her wasn’t enough, not through her underwear like this, but it was enough to drive her out of her mind. Or at least far enough that she begged for him. It was unusual and felt funny on her tongue, but it fueled a fire so hot in her stomach she felt like she could implode.

“Jungkook, fuck, please,” she whimpered, the muscles in her stomach quivering from how much she was straining against his arm, eager to chase his tongue down. He pulled away completely when she spoke and his eyes were even darker.

He pushed his own hips farther into the mattress, anything for a bit of relief. He was hoping for this, expecting this kind of reaction, but nothing could have prepared him for the real thing. Her voice was so broken, needy. She needed him to pleasure her and he was more than eager to at this point.

He let go of her hips and pulled back enough to pull her underwear down her legs, this time finishing what she’d started by pulling his shirt off over his head. The look she gave him was impatient and, after she finally begged for him, he was more than okay with rewarding her.

He went back to his original position between her legs with his hands on her hips and dived in. His mouth was hot against her clit, hot and wet and the sound of him sucking only made her roll her hips and groan his name. His tongue pressed against her clit before exploring her folds and lapping up the wetness he’d created. He let go of her hips with one hand and used that hand to drag a finger slowly around her opening until whines were echoing in the room. He’d pleasure her, but he sure as hell wasn’t done teasing her.

If her desire for him had been high before, she hated to think of a way to describe how much she wanted him now. She was clenching around nothing and she couldn’t think straight to form the words to tell him what she needed. She whined out of frustration and her fingers clenched into a tighter fist. She wanted to move her hands down, to grip his hair and pull him closer, or maybe to grab his arm and urge his fingers inside of her, but she knew that if she did either, it would take longer for her to get what she wanted. So, she stayed still and managed a breathy gasp of his name, instead.

His eyes moved up towards her and she might’ve lost it then had he not have pulled back right away. “Beg.”

“What?” she asked, though she knew damn well what he said, even though the blood rushing in her head might have rendered her a little deaf.

“If you want to cum,” he answered her patiently, though she could see the annoyance settling in his eyes. “then you’re gonna put that pretty mouth to use and beg.”

She could feel humiliation settling in her, she’d begged once, surely that was enough? God, the arrogant ass. He was going to get it later, but right now, she swallowed her pride. “Jungkook, please. I wanna cum so bad. I need your fingers and your mouth, please.”

He stayed still and raised an eyebrow, almost like a parent waiting for a child to finish getting the whole story out. She got the memo and her hips twisted under his while her mind raced to think of something that would help her get what she wanted. “Please, I need you so bad. I wanna cum, I want you to taste it. And I- and I—”

She broke off into a moan as he put his mouth back on her and slipped a finger inside of her. Once his first finger was moving in and out without any issues, he added a second one. She could feel them inside of her, stretching her and feeling so deliciously wonderful. Her legs were shaking and she threw her head back. His one hand was struggling to keep her hips still and she could feel the sting as bruises started introducing themselves to her skin.

Her mouth didn’t bother to close anymore with the rate of noises flowing from her lips that she might have scoffed at normally. From the build-up before and the pace he moved his fingers inside of her and the way his mouth was hot against her, it only took her a few more minutes to cum. A searing white-hot heat filled her body until she was no longer making any noise and she could only hear her heavy heart pumping in her chest. Her head felt light and heavy at the same time when she tried bringing it back up so she could look down at him.

He wasn’t looking at her, his gaze was focused more on her vagina and the way he just openly stared at her made her blush even more than from the exertion she’d just went through. He used his fingers, the ones that had been in her, to push apart her folds to give him a better view and he only looked away when she squirmed.

If she was only allowed to use one word to describe his expression, it would be hungry. She imagined that she’d wear the same expression on days that she was too busy working to eat and one of her coworkers brought in a five-star steak. He moved back up her body and pressed his lips to hers without any hesitance and she could tell that he was impatient, too.

When he pulled back, she almost held her breath as he started unbuttoning his pants and kicking them off, then his boxers. His cock was bigger than ones she’d taken before, but not by much. The tip was flushed and thick and already made her more slick with anticipation. Her eyes went back up to his and she almost expected him to wear a cocky smirk, but his expression was unchanging. He nudged her legs apart a little more and shifted until he was comfortably nestled between them.

“Condom?” she asked, but he shook his head.

“I’m dead, remember?” he snorted, his eyes trained on his hand around his cock as he lead it between her folds until he was teasingly pressing it against her opening. He looked back up at her then and flashed her the cocky smirk she’d expected earlier.

“Ready for all this?” he asked, and she rolled her eyes.

“All of what?” she snorted, “your dick? I’d be a little more intimidated if half of it wasn’t in your personality, sweetie.”

He just snorted arrogantly and pushed into her. She anticipated him to be a little rougher when he did it, especially after what she just said, but he was careful. He moved his hips into her slowly, not hesitating or stopping until he was snuggly inside of her. Her breath was shaky when she let it out and she squeezed her eyes shut and leaned her head farther into the pillow. She could practically hear how smug he was.

He stayed still then, just long enough until she let out another heavy breath and nodded her head. Then, he pulled his hips back until the head of his cock was barely in her and pushed back into her. The sting of him stretching her was still there, but it was more pleasurable to her than painful and at this point she welcomed it.

“You feel so nice and tight around my cock, little one,” he told her, his breath washing down her neck. “You tasted so good, too. Any time you want to spread those legs for me, I’ll gladly lick you clean.”

She let out a shaky whimper and tilted her head away from him so her neck was bared. He hummed in approval and kissed her skin there. “You can touch me now.”

Her hands flew down from where he’d pinned them earlier in a flash, one finding its way to his hair and the other wrapping around him until she was scratching his back. She shifted her hips a little, too, taking this as an okay to move her legs so they were wrapped around his waist and giving him better access to fuck her. She could hear the noises it made, the wet ones that made her blush as he thrusted into her and she used her legs as leverage to push him in even deeper when he moved his hips into hers.

They both let out moans at the new position and his hips moved with a faster urgency. With being able to hear how her body reacted to everything—every twitch of his cock and every movement of his hips—it encouraged him even more. His nose pressed into the skin of her neck, right above her jugular vein, and he could smell the sweetness of her blood. All of his senses were on high alert and he might have been able to cum from the smell of her cum and the smell of her blood alone.

“Touch yourself.”

She might have hesitated before, but at this point she was far too drunk on his cock to pass up much of anything he asked her to do. She’d never liked the feeling of herself, the wetness that came out of her made her stick her nose up a little. She’d always used toys when she was alone, it made it cleaner and she didn’t have to cringe whenever her fingers shined with her own juices. Eager to follow his orders and even more eager to get the pleasure quickly approaching, she removed her hand from his hand and removed the one from his back. One hand came in contact with her clit and she rubbed small, tight circles there. The other hand moved to her nipple. First, it cupped her breast but migrated upwards until she was pinching and pulling at her hardened nipple.

She was starting to clench around him again and he groaned, sucking on her skin until a bright red mark was left. His hand moved to trace circles around her other nipple, contrasting the attention she was giving to her other one and the stark difference was only helping to push her closer and closer.

Her mouth fell open again, but silent moans were the only thing to flow past her lips as her second orgasm filled her body then snapped. As soon as she felt it tumbling over, she felt his teeth in her neck. The pain of his bite and the pleasure between her legs balanced each other out in the best way possible. She was just as sweet as she smelled and he eagerly lapped up every drop that flowed out, encouraged by her orgasm. He moaned into her neck and pulled back, after all, he didn’t want to ruin this. He had plans of doing it again. He pressed his tongue against the small puncture wounds his sharp teeth had left, swiping it across the skin until the evidence of his bite was washed away and her smooth skin was left behind.

When she opened her eyes again, he’d pulled his mouth back from her neck and his lips were both a rosy red from her blood. His eyes were shut and his eyebrows were furrowed a little in concentration as he focused on using her to help him reach his orgasm.

“I’m gonna fill you so full with my cum,” he groaned above her, and even now after she’d orgasmed, she felt another shiver flow down her spine at his words. “Gonna make you smell just like me so everyone else knows you’re mine. Your blood is mine, your body is mine. This sweet little cunt is mine, isn’t it?”

“It’s yours, Jungkook, all yours,” she answered, almost in awe as his orgasm washed over him. His lips parted and his hips hesitated as they thrusted, the dull tremors of her pussy after her orgasm helping milk him dry until his cum was inside of her.

He leaned his head forward until it was resting on her shoulder. His skin was hot and sticky against her own and his breath was even hotter. Her room smelled like sex and blood and she felt even more lightheaded than she had earlier.

“I’ve figured it out,” he spoke, finally pulling back and peeling their sweaty skin apart.

“What?” she asked, clearing her throat afterwards when she heard how scratchy it sounded.

“Why you’re such a bitch.”

“Cause I realized at a young age that humans were inevitably doomed?”

“No. ‘Cause you taste so sweet everywhere else that you had to have a bitter personality,” he snorted, moving back down her body.

“Ha. Very funny,” she answered, though she did giggle. When he was back between her legs, she initially moved to pull back and push him away. She wasn’t going to be able to cum again and, quite honestly, she didn’t want to.  

“‘S okay. Not gonna make you cum again, not tonight. Maybe tomorrow morning,” he spoke, but his eyes were trained on her opening instead of looking back at her and it took her a moment to realize why. He was watching their cum drip out of her with the fascinated look of a five-year-old watching a remote-controlled airplane fly around in the air. “Gotta stuff you full of mine, so everyone knows.”

“Jungkook, you’re out of your fucking mind if you think I belong to you,” she retorted. 

“Ah, so you only belong to me when I’ve got my cock deep inside of you?” he asked, his eyes twinkling as he looked up at her. 

“For now,” she answered with a giggle. He moved back up her body and ghosted her stomach lightly, making her squirm.

“Then you better spread your legs again cause I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

[narashikari]

Kamen Rider Zi-O Episode 1

So... um, that happened.

Honestly... the season’s not off to a great start for me. I already got a lot of question marks just based off the spoilers I got, but watching the actual episode made me utterly confused. But it did have a lot of potential and I really hope it gets exploited throughout the series.

Anyways, onto the review.

1. First: the theme song. Admittedly I wasn’t too keen on it when I heard it first, but upon re-listening and watching the visuals, I like it better. It’s not quite as catchy as Be the One or Excite or even W-B-X ~W Boiled Extreme~ was for me so it might take a few episodes for it to make my toku playlist (and yes, I have one. I listen to it on my commute home!)

2. Our main characters:

Sougo... might get some getting used to.

As Cam Watanabe would say, “Ladies and gentlemen... the defender(s) of the universe.”

His apparently honest reply of wanting to be a king almost borders on megalomania, which makes it utterly hilarious but also a little grating when it got repetitive. Like, I get it kid, you’re basically a human Simba. You just can’t wait to be king.

He does seem to have good intentions though, and good-hearted like most of the other Riders. Which kinda made me scratch my head as to why anyone would think he’s possibly the demon king. Aside from the fact he’d be 68 by the the future character’s time and probs not in any condition to fight unless timey wimey shenanigans is involved?

There’s also this... kinda below-the-belt shot

It’s an in-your-face way to him apart from Sento, who’s a genius, albeit amnesiac, physicist (probably). It’s inevitable that we draw comparisons between them especially since Sento does appear in the episode... but it’s still a little too straightforward. 

Geitsu... is totally my type.

The first thing I said upon seeing him is “Wow, he’s cute!” 

I feel like he’s kinda like Takeru from Shinkenger- this totally intense, duty-driven guy who feels the weight of the world on his shoulders... but has a hidden side of him that’s a total dork and adorable. I mean, seriously. 

How subtle does he think he is, trying to hide a giant red robot ala Super Sentai out in the open like that? And looking around the corner like that kinda looks cute imo. I hope we get to see both sides of him equally!

Also, i love his last name. Myokoin. 明光. It means bright light. So poetic. 

Tsukuyomi... is fucking awesome!

HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN SINCE WE HAD A BADASS LADY COMPANION IN KAMEN RIDER? Like... Drive, maybe, with Kiriko, who totally should’ve been a Rider herself?

She catches SENTO AND RYUUGA off guard for fuck’s sake!

(Sento’s face is pure gold, btw. I wish I could’ve seen Ryuuga’s. Heh.)

I really hope she lives up to her potential and stay as badass as she is in this episode!

Woz... is he supposed to be an expy of Double’s Philip with a creepy servant vibe added?

Seriously. The hairdo, his clothes, the giant book he’s lugging around... that’s definitely a callback to Philip. Even his matter-of-fact way of speaking resembles Philip’s. Except when he goes into his creepy-servant-mode... then he kinda reminds me of Sebastian from Black Butler. The servant who’ll do anything for you... in exchange for your soul!!

And yeah, I also got some kicks out of that monologue he spouts when Sougo first henshins. Speaking of henshin...

3. 

So, this commander just chooses a random person fated to die to become an Another Rider? And one who couldn’t be more different from Sento, too. There goes my theory about the Another Riders being parallels to the actual Riders.

I get the feeling each of the commanders will have different reasons to choose specific people to become Another Riders, but it’s too early for me to really speculate.

(Also... does anyone else also feel a Philip vibe to this guy? Or maybe Micchy? Is it just me?)

4. Also speaking of henshin: The suits for this season... are a little meh for me. Their suits being based off metal watches are kind of a hit and miss for me. I don’t particularly enjoy wearing metal watches so seeing them on a Rider suit is a little jarring, but I see why they went with the aesthetic. That said, I like the kana on the visor and how it’s not as blatant as Shinkenger’s or Kingranger’s kanji was. And the actual henshin pose is pretty awesome and fun with how it incorporates the belt’s rotating mechanism.

5. I will say... It was NOT a good idea to go straight into the Build tribute right in the first episode.

Don’t get me wrong; it’s not that I didn’t want to see Sento and Ryuuga again. In fact my reaction to this scene...

...was basically to literally scream and joyfully squeal so hard the bed shook. (Yes, I am a shameless fangirl. Sue me. I love me some Best Match boys.)

But I think it would’ve been way better if they focused more on establishing Sougo, Geitsu and Tsukuyomi and showcase their dynamics for an episode or two prior to jumping into the tributes/cameos. Honestly I felt like Sento and Ryuuga’s cameos (brief as they are) kinda disrupted that.

However on the flip side...

6. SENTO AND RYUUGA ARE BACK (just for the first two weeks BUT STILL)

MY BABIES! MY ADORABLE BUNNY BOY AND MY TOUGH DRAGON DUDE! 

7. AND ALSO, THIS IMMENSELY CONFUSED ME

Like, isn’t Zi-O supposed to be in the post-Build finale, no-Sky-Wall world Sento created? So why does Sougo show up in the Buildverse pre-Build finale? Did Geitsu accidentally throw them into another timeline instead of just the past? Or, maybe... is it possible that the Zi-Overse is just the Buildverse’s distant future after Sento recreates the universe without Evolt*, and Sougo just travels that far back?

*I don’t really know how to explain this theory succinctly, I might make a separate post about it another day.

I suppose the weirdness might be because Zi-O probably started pre-production long before Build wrapped up, so the Zi-O crew didn’t really know how Build would’ve ended. Though with Build’s director involved in the episode, I’m not sure why it wasn’t discarded when he came on- he should’ve known that this would be very odd airing right after Build’s finale.

Also, the fact that Sougo travels to before the finale means that Sento and Ryuuga’s cameo is from before they eloped ran off together... in this ep at least, since we haven’t seen the bit where they were wearing Satou Tarou gear and handing the Build and Cross-Z Ride Watches in the previews. So maybe the next episode will explain all the timey wimey shenanigans. And maybe tell us what those two did after riding into the sunset together like a couple out of a shoujo manga 

8. All in all, I’d say I’m definitely apprehensive about continuing this season. The whole anniversary thing is already making me nervous since a) I’m only familiar with the post-Decade series and b) I have the tendency to compare such series to Gokaiger. Not to mention I’ll always compare it to the likes of Build and Double (the first season I watched and the first season i finished respectively). 

However, it is just the first episode and there are a year’s worth of episodes, tributes and Rider cameos to wait for so I’m also excited for the season! Hopefully Sougo and co. will live up to the hype and the legacy the other Heisei Riders left behind!

[peterjonesparker]

hello! i’ve briefly come up for air so that i could fill one prompt and write this! i’m sorry i’ve kinda fallen off the deep end but college is hard, yo. anyway, i hope you enjoy! don’t take this too seriously haha. have this fic in which mj accidentally gives peter a coupon book for sexual favors.

tagging: my wife @spideychelle-romanogers, a gem with a seasonal blog name @spookychelleblessup, the always hilarious @suplosers, someone i need to say hello to again @bellamywarriorblake, and i can’t remember if she wanted me to tag her in things but i’ll do it anyway because i love her @aqhrodites. if you asked me to tag you and i’ve forgotten, please let me know! i’ll actually make a list instead of me just being like oh wait i needed to do this!

this coupon is good for… (ao3 link)

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five

A List of Things Michelle Only Found Out About Peter After They Became Friends:

He doesn’t know how to use chopsticks properly. (Michelle’s had to show him several times and he’s still helpless.)

Peter isn’t the most well-read. He spends most of his time reading comics, graphic novels, books for class, books about physics, and books that in some way help him build tech for the spidey suit. (Michelle has thrown several books at his head. She’s seen a bookmark in one, so she’ll take what she can get.)

Perhaps most egregious, Peter Parker is, without a doubt, single-handedly, the best gift giver. And it’s infuriating.

See, the thing about being friends with someone who’s great at giving gifts is that you just suck at it. Michelle can spend hours thinking up something to get Peter for his birthday or Christmas or graduation and it will be like getting a rock compared to anything Peter gives her. A signed copy of her favorite book, an exclusive interview with Steve Rogers, a year-long subscription to a sock of the month club.

Michelle manages to get Peter this vintage comic book she happened upon once at an antique store and that was the greatest gift she got him. It wasn’t even a comic he’d read. But he still smiled and gasped and thanked her. Even though it was a really lame present. Michelle is determined to do better.

Yet, despite her sincerest desire to give Peter a good present to finally make up for the years and years of lame presents she’s given him, Michelle always forgets to plan. Which is how she ends up frantically looking through a Hallmark store on a Thursday night at eight pm, searching for a present to give Peter for his birthday tomorrow.

It’s sad, really. But she was busy! Classes have her swamped and it was her midterm week. She feels guilty, though. Because Peter also made her lunch for the entire week and packed it with a note telling her she’d do great. Which is why she wanted to make it up to him with a great present! But here she is, looking at sad, pseudo-edgy journal booklets.

She finally settles on a coupon book she sees offhand. She looks through it and it’s got lots of household chores, which Peter absolutely abhors doing so at least he’ll have use for them. (Peter is, on all accounts, a fantastic roommate. But his tolerance for basic household upkeep leaves something to be desired. She’s had to pick up the spider-man suit from the floor more times than she’d care to admit.) She grabs the red one as a joke (Spider-man!) and purchases it, hoping that the party she has planned for him tomorrow will at least make up for this lame gift.

Michelle makes him breakfast the next morning before his eleven am class. Chicken crumble and scrambled eggs over avocado toast. She also makes him coffee because she saw his light on at two thirty am when she went to use the restroom. He’s sleepy, but he thanks her, kissing her hair lightly on his way to the bar stool. They chat and eat before both of them leave for class. On her way out the door, she reminds him to be back by seven for her surprise.

Michelle thinks it’s very likely he knows it’s a party, but what he doesn’t know is that Tony is coming. It’s been a long time since Peter has seen him and, while she and Tony don’t always see eye-to-eye about everything, she’s excited that Peter will get to see him.

So, when seven pm rolls around and everyone’s waiting eagerly in their apartment, Michelle is, admittedly, a lot excited. May baked a beautiful cake. (Well, May’s girlfriend baked a beautiful cake. May isn’t the most adept baker. Or cook. But everyone really likes Shana and her cooking.) Ned’s flown in because it’s Peter’s twenty first. So did Liz. (Tony may have paid for their tickets, but he doesn’t really want that information spreading around. Doesn’t need anyone asking him to buy them plane tickets whenever they please.) Then the door lock starts rattling and everyone quiets, scrambling to hide.

As soon as Peter opens the door, everyone jumps and screams. “Surprise!”

Peter laughs. “You guys!” He’s smiling brightly in that dopey way he does, and Michelle feels her heart swell and her face heat up. So, she might be a little bit in love with Peter Parker. It doesn’t matter. It’s not important. We can just ignore it.

Tony walks over to Peter, and Peter chokes a bit. The two hug and it’s heartwarming. But then Ned is rushing over and tackling Peter and there’s laughter and smiling again. Michelle is happy that Peter is happy. So she lets Peter make his way around the party, talking to everyone and catching up. She’s content to stay on the sidelines, making sure everyone is happy. Most importantly, Peter.

But Tony Stark finds her halfway through the night. “Michelle, yes?” She nods her head, sipping from the specialty IPA that May brought. (If there’s one thing May does know, it’s beer.) “Thanks for doing this for him. For bringing me.” He looks down, smiling a bit. “He’s told me you don’t always think so highly of me. So, I appreciate you inviting me anyway.”

She doesn’t know how to respond. For one, she wants to punch Peter because she’d told Peter that, not Tony Stark. There’s no point in denying. So: “You mean a lot to Peter. You should get to be here, too.”

He smiles at her, nodding his head lightly. He taps his hand against his thigh and starts to walk away. He pauses for a moment, turns around, and says, as if he can’t decide if he should, “You mean the world to him. Please tell me you know that?”

She’s a bit stunned. She just nods and he seems to accept that because he walks away. She scans the room until she spots Peter. He’s in the middle of what appears to be an animated story because his arms are flying everywhere and he’s laughing and Ned and Liz are laughing into their hands and shaking their heads. Michelle has never loved him more.

She stares long enough that he finally looks at her. He gives her a crooked smile and her heart flutters. He waves her over, but she shakes her head and shoos him so he’ll go back into the conversation. He rolls his eyes and goes back to listening to Liz’s story.

The rest of the party is fairly lowkey. She catches up with Cindy, chats with May, talks to a few people from Peter’s lab. By around ten thirty, people start trickling out. Some people are going to other parties. Some are going home. By the time the last person leaves, there are cups and plates scattered all throughout the apartment for Peter and MJ to clean. (Most likely in the morning, if she’s being honest.)

He hugs her tightly. “Thank you, MJ. I had a great time.”

“I’m glad.” She chuckles, squeezing him a bit before pushing him away. She walks over to her backpack to grab her lame excuse of a gift. “I have a gift, but don’t get too excited.”

He smiles warmly, grabbing the paper bag wrapped book from her hands. When he opens the gift, he smiles and thanks her. He’s sincere and he likes the gift and he’s entirely too nice. She smiles and laughs a bit when he starts to look through the booklet. “You can redeem the coupons whenever.”

He looks at her warily and takes a large gulp. He appears to pale with each new coupon he reads and she’s honestly so confused. “I can redeem any of these coupons?”

She laughs, punching him lightly in the shoulder. “That’s the idea, dork.”

He closes the book and stares at her for a few moments. He manages, “So you’ll do any of these coupons?”

“Yes, Peter.” She chuckles, a bit exasperated. The concept really shouldn’t be this hard to grasp. She shakes her head and continues, “Just give me a little warning and yeah, of course. Any coupon.” She checks her watch and sighs. “On that note, let’s clean up tomorrow. Maybe you can redeem one of your coupons.”

Peter chokes and she looks at him quizzically. But she just shakes her head and walks to her room. She didn’t realize Peter would be so shook that she was offering to do his chores. She knew he didn’t like doing them, but honestly.

Surprisingly, however, Peter doesn’t use any of the coupons the next day. He just helps her clean and eyes her warily. Which, fine, if he doesn’t want to use her coupons, that’s on him. She won’t do his chores, then. She’s not upset that maybe he didn’t actually like the gift even though he seemed so excited about it. She’s not mad. She knows it was a silly gift. It’s all fine.

Until a Thursday night two weeks later when Peter is doing the dishes, which is his least favorite chore and Michelle knows that was one of the coupons, Michelle can’t take it. She snaps. Gently. “You know, if you don’t want to use the coupons, you can just throw them away or give them back.”

“What?” He whips around, mouth agape. “MJ, I-I, what-”

“You haven’t used any.” She pouts. She hates that she can never get him gifts he enjoys. “I can try to get you something else?”

“No!” He says a bit too quickly, taking a deep breath. “I mean.” He gulps. “Sorry. I just, got a little nervous about them.”

“Why?” MJ tilts her head, looking at him confused. “Peter, honestly, just use the coupons. Don’t worry about me. I gave them to you for a reason.” He’s far too noble.

“Just,” he holds up a hand, jumping a bit where he stands. “Give me one second and I’ll go get one.” So, Michelle waits. She walks over to the sink because she figures he’ll have her do the dishes. But, a few moments later, he comes running back with the whole booklet, flipping through. “Honestly, I’m still a little surprised so I’m not sure which one to use.”

She laughs. “Just choose the one you’d like to use, Parker. It’s not that hard.”

He gives her a meaningful look. “You’d be surprised.” He thumbs through the booklet. “You baffle me, honestly.” Then he blushes furiously and looks up at her, warily. “You’re sure about these coupons?”

“Yes, Peter!” She laughs, exasperated as she huffs a bit. He rips one of the coupons from the booklet and hands it to her nervously. She shakes her head but when she reads the coupon she does a double take. Oh. Oh. She’s gone and fucked it all up.

This coupon is good for a twenty minute make out session.

She fucking…why can’t she read? She glances at the booklet on the table and it’s decidedly…not a household chores coupon booklet. It’s got a couple on the front and lips and it’s titled Sexy Favors for Couples. Why is Peter’s costume the color of desire?

Now she gets his nerves. Why he was so confused. She’d be too. And her immediate thought is that she should tell him she made a mistake and she’s sorry and she’ll get him a new gift. But then she remembers that he, well, he wanted to use this coupon. He wants to make out with her for twenty minutes.

“Just to be sure,” she says quietly before finally meeting his eye again. “You want to use this coupon? Like, you don’t have to use it because I got you the gift.”

“Trust me.” He huffs. “I want to use it.” She doesn’t need any other go ahead so she rushes over to him and wraps her hands around his neck, pulling him forward so that their lips are locked.

It’s frantic and most likely reckless and a bad decision. But Michelle’s wanted to kiss Peter for the better part of five years now and God forbid she give up the opportunity now. Even if it’s not in the context she was hoping for. Even if she doesn’t know if Peter feels for her the way she feels for him. At least she can have this one thing.

She allows Peter to nudge her to their couch and they tumble on top of it. She opens her legs to cradle him between them and he moves his lips down to her neck. She gasps when he bites lightly, moving one hand from his back to his head so she can use his hair as an anchor. Her head is angled back so he can have easy access, and boy does he take advantage. He nips and sucks and laves, and MJ is in heaven.

But this is supposed to be for him. It was her gift to him. So, she flips them over as smoothly as she can (which isn’t all that smooth, but Peter still seems pleasantly surprised) and leans down to kiss him on the lips, filthy as she can. She even rolls her hips a little bit, which manages to make Peter gasp, so she’s pretty proud. She tries that one trick she learned from Harry in high school, and Peter loves it.

All in all, it’s a pretty successful make-out session. Especially given the fact that Michelle hasn’t made out with anyone in well over a year. (You can try to get her to admit it’s because of her feelings for Peter, but you’ll fail.) She doesn’t keep track, but she’s pretty sure they’ve been making out for more than twenty minutes. Not that either is complaining. But then MJ feels Peter’s excitement against her thigh and she figures that’s her cue to stop.

Peter’s face is slightly pink and he’s gasping for breath when she pulls away. He takes a few deep breaths and closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the couch and letting out a gentle and awed, “fuck.”

MJ laughs, kissing him lightly before she gets off of him. She doesn’t know how to react now that her crushing need to just kiss Peter Parker is gone. Well, at least for the time being. She doesn’t want to have to deal with a conversation right now because it’ll be complicated and he’ll tell her the coupons are fun but that’s all there is to it. She doesn’t want to deal with that right now.

She takes a deep breath and says, “Okay! I’ve got an early class tomorrow, so I’m going to head to bed. But let me know if you want to use another coupon.” Then she’s walking a little faster than natural to her room and closing the door quickly behind her, taking a deep breath as she leans her head against the wood. She tries to ignore the impending sense of doom that’s looming over her head.

What has she done?

[amourete-blog1]

(( hearts! hearts for the heartless!

tagging: @caedisetmare @valorousimperial

delphine lost her soul to her former eldritch patron, and has been living soulless for a while; feli and delphine make plans to meet in secret and try to get it back. this is sappy as fuck and an exercise in how many heart metaphors i can make in a single log.  

begin log:

amourete When you wake in the early hours, you spend a great deal of your time researching. Book after book that has laid on your shelf, relatively untouched, you've taken down to page through, searching for any information on what you're going to attempt to do. Despite your best attempts, your search yields nothing. At least you can't say you weren't expecting that. With only a short time before your guest is to arrive, you turn instead to meditation - and this is where Delphine would find you, sitting in your lawnring a short ways away from the transportalizer, centering yourself.

caedisetmare This is the first time you've met Felide in person, so you'd be lying if you said you weren't nervous - not that she was frightening, you've seen things that frankly made the word lose meaning - but because this was a whole other kind of first impression. When you step off of the transportalizer, she's not hard to find. For that much, you're grateful, as if you had to wander around a locked-down timeline in search of someone you've only seen pictures of, you're fairly certain you would die on the spot. You take a knee next to her and wait for a while before speaking. "... Thank you again, for proposing this. It means more than you know."

amourete Coming out of meditation is a bit like closing a book. Coming out of meditation when someone speaks to you is like closing a book quite suddenly without a bookmark, jumping up because you've just been asked to do something, then getting dizzy because you stood up too fast. It takes you a second to really come back to yourself, but after shaking your head and blinking a few times, you smile to Delphine, and just give her a hug - careful of the spines. "You're my friend," you tell her, grinning when you let go. "And even if it's not in the best of circumstances, I'm overjoyed we finally get to meet. How are you doing?"

caedisetmare There's a lot of spines! You have to be careful not to stick her, even while she's minding them. This is what you get for being a deepdweller. You get poison spines. You smile warmly at her when she lets go, fins visibly perking up. It IS very nice to finally meet her. You don't know why you were as worried as you were. "I'm... actually, I'm quite well! Things have been calm, and now I'm meeting a good friend of mine in person. How are /you/ doing, tonight?" There's the faintest undercurrent of concern there, hidden behind your expression. You know things have been somewhat complicated here, after all, perhaps even moreso than where you're staying.

amourete You laugh a little, rubbing the back of her neck. "Things could be better. I've had a lot of support from friends and family, so it isn't bad yet. Just hard. But struggle makes us stronger, in the end, doesn't it?" You pat the grass next to you, scooting over to make a space for her - which is really a pointless gesture, considering there's no lack of space in the lawnring. "Sit, get comfortable. This is not going to be a fun process, but I think we can manage it. Before we start, I need you to know that this will probably be very taxing. Are you mentally prepared for it? Do you have any hesitations, anything that needs to be addressed before we begin? I don't know if we can stop once we start, so... speak now."

caedisetmare You take a deep breath, and settle onto the grass, gills fluttering softly as you do so. This is it, the moment of truth. "... As you know, I run entirely on donated energy from my patron - I have a finite amount of my own life force to work with, but. It should be... I suppose what I'm asking is would it be easier for you if I... emptied myself out, so to speak." It's almost clinically asked. You've endured quite a bit in your time, whatever was ahead would simply be another taxing experience. You can handle that much. "I don't know precisely how your abilities work, and as such - if you believe it would help you, then I can do that." You don't think about what it might mean if you run out of your own sparing life energy during the process. You'd back out if you did.

amourete Your expression change is immediate. "I don't know if it would be safe to do that. Does your patron provide you with so much energy that there isn't room for other influence? I'm admittedly... not sure how this works." You will not allow Delphine to die. Not on your watch.

caedisetmare "It wouldn't be. She... essentially acts in the stead of what, in my timeline, are the basic functions of a soul." You furrow your brow. Trying to gauge where you're sitting, energy-wise, since you did request to be more or less running on a battery instead of tethered for this. "... Well. Let's give this a try. If it does interfere, we can just stall a little until there's space. I am on a more... set amount, tonight. Sound fair?"

amourete You nod, and give a little smile, resting your hands on your knees. "We'll do our best. "We'll start by first centering ourselves - both of us. Your soul is you. To access a soul, nevermind re-create one, we must be able to have a clear vision of ourselves, unclouded by extraneous thoughts and fears. Fear creates defenses around the heart - I can't break through those, so you have to choose to let them down." You laugh. "Then again, I don't need to tell you that. You're probably already a pro at this."

caedisetmare "I never worked with souls, admittedly - the body is actually my specialty, and Patrons usually want into your mind, not your heart," you admit, folding your taloned hands  together neatly. "but I see no harm in trying new things. Here goes everything." The thought strikes you, after a second. If your soul is you, what are you, without one? An extension of your Patron? Do you /have/ anything to get a clear view of? Fins twitching, you force the idea from your head, eyes half lidded as you attempt to do as you were told. Moving away from extra thought and fear is the easy part, of course. It's also the first step for allowing communication with Old Gods. You can manage that much.

amourete Part of the reason she was able to startle you when she arrived is that your sixth sense never picked her up. You've never felt anything this empty before: Even objects have faint traces of the people that made them. It's unnerving, but you've been trying your best not to show it - especially since you know this is a scary concept for her. You don't want to make it worse. "I want you to think about what makes up... you." You don't close your eyes: they're fixed on her, watching her face. "Think about all the parts that have come together to make you who you are - in body, perhaps, but in spirit too. I'll ask you some questions to prompt you, and we'll start simple: What is your favorite color? What is your favorite food?"

caedisetmare Are you anything, in spirit? You don't answer that. Instead, you focus your awareness to your own physical shell, and the questions you're being asked.  The small things that might help you get a look at what's left of yourself. "Colour... White. The colour of light - I didn't know true colour for most of my life." In the dark, all lights are blinding, after all. That is why you glow. The faintest smile tugs at your lips at the mention of favorite foods. "As for the other... anglerfish, I suppose." You hadn't given it much thought; everything tasted the same, with your tribe, and land food is still new and strange. So... something familiar will do.

amourete You start to smell something - or rather, a shadow of something. You "smell" it, but you know it isn't really there: The faintest scent of salt. It's only there for a moment before it slips out of your sense again. "Tell me more about anglerfish. Do you remember the first time you tried it?"

caedisetmare "I don't think I was even pupated, then. it was so long ago. But I do remember my mother bringing it in - I was convinced it was going to eat me." It's an old memory, faded and coming apart at the metaphorical edges like an old photograph. "It was alright, then. I appreciated them more when I was older."

amourete Whatever was there must have passed. You try not to let your worry show - you want to think this is still possible. There has to be *something* you can grab onto. "Tell me about your mother. What was she like?"

caedisetmare "She was a distant woman. A huntress. She was usually out defending us instead of raising us." A pause, trying to remember. It was so long ago, when you became an adult, stopped being a daughter and became a Priestess. But that much you can remember. "The Priestesses cared for us more often than she did. I don't resent her for it - the tribe had to eat, had to be safe. But it's fairly obvious who's values I absorbed more. None of us, my siblings... none of us were Hunters." Even away from her people, living on land... she still dresses like she used to. Still prays, though Isyv said it wasn't needed.

amourete Their system is strange to you, but you recognize parts of it from your own feral life: trolls caring for other trolls, protecting each other. It strikes you again that those things still feel odd to hear from other trolls, even though you yourself have lived them. "And the Priestess? What was she like?"

caedisetmare "There were many of them. They were kind, if... nervous, people. The High Priestess before me most of all. I didn't understand why until I was older, but. They raised us when my mother would not." You frown, still remembering how it was to spend all day in holy places, but return to a Hunter's home at the end of a waking period. In a place where trolls all cared for each other, your mother may as well have been a domesticated Alternian Citizen. She didn't care. "I came to understand how brave they were - and are, still - only as an adult, when I was among their number. They carried the pressure and pain of our profession without ever giving it away that either existed. I... if there is one thing I miss from my life in the dark, it is them."

amourete "Can you think of something about them that left an impact on you?" You lean forward, as if this would grant you some greater insight. "Specifics are good. Any specific things they said to you, anything you recall that stayed with you, inspired you... Anything like that?"

caedisetmare A moment of silence. You look back - there has to be something, in between the stolen memories and the dark. "... The Dark will take your mind, your will, your spirit. But it cannot take the blood, Latula. Trust in that." You smile. "I only realized it meant family and not literal blood long after I stopped going by Latula, but. Well. You know me. The blood is... everything."

amourete You give her a little smile. "Well, I think they'd have a hard time getting your blood too. Maybe not impossible, but, it will take some trial.

"Good - okay. So your family is important to you, your family being... the seadwellers? Deep dwellers? That feral group you're part of."

caedisetmare "Not as hard as you think. I bleed easy." The confession isn't hard at all.

"But... yes. Them, my feral group. They're... even after I've left, even  after finding out what I did.. I'd trade back every day in the light I've had if it meant they could have a minute under the moons."

amourete You consider this for a moment. "Can you go back now, or...? Are you stuck here somehow? I know when I left my group, it was a one-time thing, but that's because I chose to travel with an outlaw."

caedisetmare "... No. They're... the worship my old Patron, the one who took my soul in the first place." You try to stop it, but your face twists in obvious pain, a moment, before smoothing. No sense in mourning the past. "Until his influence is dealt with, I can't go home. Maybe after, but. Not now. Probably not for a long time."

amourete It was becoming more and more apparent that this task would be more difficult than it first appeared.

"Let's move on from your childhood then. Can you recall a formative part of your young adult life? Someone or something, an event or an object, that stayed with you?"

caedisetmare This one, you struggle with. Your youth is a patchy, blurred space, no doubt lovingly edited by your last patron. Brow furrowing, you reach back, trying to find something important, something...

There. Your eyes finally open, and slowly, you begin to describe the Deepest Temple, a holy site, and your first experience there. The black, the glowing paints on the walls, the blades on the altar, the way your skin prickled, feeling as if you were watched... despite yourself, you can't keep the reverent tone from your voice. "That's... it's when I knew. I'd never be a huntress, or a siren. I was meant to be there. It felt like... fate, I suppose. Inevitable that I'd end up in that space."

amourete Oh THAT'S something. Salt floods your senses, brine and sea air paired with a touch of vanilla. It's not necessarily sudden, no, rather like the lighting of a candle: Slow, then all at once, so very much alive.

"What were you doing there, then? Did you sneak in? Were you invited?"

caedisetmare "We were going to be entering the temple the next evening. But... when I was cleansing myself, preparing to be in such a sacred space... I thought I heard a voice. Calling me, from inside." The emotion is still there, the wonder, the awe of that moment.

"Of course, when I swam in, there wasn't any Troll there, only that... presence, watching me." You smile, faintly, taking a deep breath. "They never found out I snuck in, the others - but I felt those eyes on me for nights on end." You don't sound concerned about the last part. You weren't. You never were. It was... comforting, having something watching over you, then.

amourete "Hold still."

It's soft, but firm. You reach out to her, your hand hovering a couple inches away from her. The closer it gets, the more vividly you feel it.

"May I touch you? Here, in the center of your chest."

caedisetmare You stay perfectly still. That part is easy, at least, you're used to being Still.

"... Yes, you may."

For a moment, it's as if even your breath stills. Never been one for following orders halfway.

amourete Your palm presses against her sternum, your fingers splayed across her chest. The heartbeat under her skin feels so much more *alive*. Your senses pulse with the fading traces of her, gathered in the corners of your awareness, just barely out of reach.

You close your eyes, and you breathe.

"Tell me about the blades. Tell me about the altar."

caedisetmare You don't know why she's doing any of this. But you trust her. Breathing again, you picture that temple in your head again, crisp and clearer than any other memory of your youth.

And you start to describe them, the edges in white, glowing paint, the blades that glinted with even the faintest light around them with hilts that bit into your palms when you held them - a reminder, you explain, that bloodshed is not to be taken lightly. The altar, only defined when painted but you could just sense it, in the dark, old stone with the carvings worn out by time and tide. You tell her about the runes on the blades themselves, what they mean, what each one is used for.

You don't know how much, or how little, she wants. But you tell her as much as you can about this facet of the first place you belonged.

amourete The pulse gets clearer as she speaks, fading sometimes, but growing stronger with others. You continue to listen, as if with your ear against a radio, turning dials to hear a clear sound.

"And in your present... Tell me about the people closest to you. Moments that stand out, with them: First meetings, special meetings, special gifts from them."

caedisetmare She really wasn't pulling punches with these questions, was she?

You steady yourself, and yet again, begin. The people you care for wholeheartedly. Your children, of course, come first. There are hatchdays and coming of age ceremonies, gifts that meant the world to you even if it was just some old fish bones they thought you'd like. There's a moment of grief, but it fades, when you mention the son you lost and the dramatics he used when he presented the spoils of his first hunt. You talk about the first meeting with your new patron and how she was nothing like you expected, the day you met Val in person, the people you met through him and the events that made you love them as much as he did. You even touch on Felide, about the gift of clarity that was given so long ago, now.

It's... it's a lot of people, gods below. You didn't realize your heart was such a mosaic until you say it aloud. It's a pleasant sort of revelation, at least.

amourete It's as she finishes speaking that you catch a sense of something solid. Everything you felt before is only an echo in comparison: *This,* this is something. You fix your focus on it like a vice, snapping jaws shut and refusing to let go.

You don't want to risk losing this lead to tell her, but this process has caused pain before. Hearts hurt: It's what they do. In order to be healed, sometimes pain is required... but if she stops talking, if she hesitates for a second, you don't know how long you'd be able to keep this in your grasp.

So you grab onto it, and you *pull.*

It's more resistant than the souls you've handled before. You don't have the freedom to treat it with the reverence you'd treat other souls. It doesn't want to take shape, doesn't *want* to be pulled, and you understand the hesitance: Existing, feeling hurts. But there's so much good to feel too, and everything Delphine tells you proves it: There were good people that cared for her first soul, and those same good people would care for her second. Good things buried themselves deep within her, and they could again, given the chance.

And what you pull from her chest is a gossamer thread, taut from the moment you pull it out to the moment it snaps and falls into your hand, tumbling into a pool of softly-glowing, pulsing purple that could fit on the face of a caegar with room to spare, held in the palm of one hand.

caedisetmare You trust her. You tell yourself this as whatever she does starts a deepset pain to radiate from your chest, as you focus on continuing to let her in. As you bear this the same as so much else. This would be a lot of work just to damage whatever self you have-

The cord snaps, and you see it, this small, wisp of a thing that you know in an instant definitively belongs to you. Your eyes widen, slightly, and you look at her in awe.

You're not what to say. It's not a soul, you don't have one, but. She's done something incredible, to say the least. Even this much, seeing something that must be some part of you out in the open, is incredible.

"I..." Nope, there's no words coming together. Whoops.

amourete There's a green glow in your veins that only starts to fade as you catch your breath. And god... where *is* your breath? Not here, that's for sure. The moment that glowing purple settles in your hand, exhaustion like you've never known sinks into your bones, wraps itself around your heart and constricts around it. You feel drained: Completely, totally drained.

Worth it.

The liquid in your hand can hardly take a shape as it is. It's fragile and - dare you say it - it feels *afraid.* You close your other hand over top of it and take a breath.

"I just needed a start," you murmur, and your voice sounds surprisingly winded, considering you've been sitting down for this. Whoops. Steady yourself, Felide. "Just a start, but I think... I think this should be enough."

caedisetmare Just a start. A start for what, you wonder, because this much in itself is already *so much.* How can this just be the beginning? You already feel laid bare in front of her, having poured out things you hadn't even told Val, hadn't told anyone yet. She knew parts of you that you'd kept hidden for sweeps. Your chest still aches for what little has been torn out of it, a reopening of what was once insurmountable emptiness.

Just the start, you remind yourself. Perhaps laying it all on the table was a good place to start, that made sense.

"Don't... strain yourself," you whisper, concern for her overshadowing any worry you have about what's in her hand. You know she won't, not in a dangerous way, but it never hurts to remind her.

Her wellbeing is more important than this tiny wisp of self in her palm, no matter how hard it had fought to exist - or not exist, perhaps, considering the effort it took to find it. Maybe it would sooner stay a wisp, because negligible wisps don't get eaten or coveted; or, under normal circumstances, torn out of chests.  

... You've never been great at self preservation, so you take a deep breath, and let Felide do as she will with it. It's far too late to stop her now, anyway.

amourete You have to laugh. It's a wheezing sound, but it's joyous nonetheless, ringing in a warm tone. "Too late," you reply with a smile, "but if we're lucky, I won't ever have to do this again."

When you lift the hand on top, the purple hidden between your palms is still glowing a faint purple. You bow your head and whisper a little prayer to it, closing your eyes and summoning the last of what power you have to imbue it with all your hopes for the future: that it would grow, that she would heal, that she would learn how to be happy. All this you say in a soft voice, one she might only barely be able to hear, and you seal with a kiss to the fragile surface of the soul.

"You have a long road ahead of you. You need to nurture this if you want it to grow." You look up to meet Delphine's striking purple eyes, worry visible in yours. "It's so easy to lose yourself, to bury what you have and let it wither. This soul - this self - is small still, and it will die out again if you aren't careful."

caedisetmare Despite yourself, you feel your shoulders tighten. This is *you.* this is also the most delicate thing you've seen in your life. It's hard not to feel nervous, the bile rising in your throats and threatening the calm you'd crafted.

You swallow it. Be still. Settle. You have to.

"How... do I do that, Felide? This is awfully unlike what I tend to nurture..." Your voice doesn't waver when you meet her eyes, though your brow is furrowed. "You understand such things so much more than I. What does... I'll be careful, of course, but. What does it need?" Your fins lower again, lost. For your sake and hers, you can't let it die, you can't make her do this again.

No pressure or anything.

amourete None at all! It's not like a critical part of a self and soul was reconstructed through struggle and deeply personal details just now or anything. 100% simple and straightforward, this.

"Well, for starters, you need to mind it." You have a little smile on your face, and you hold your hands out to her. "Your heart knows things you don't. Listen to it. If it hurts, pay attention; if it sings, hear that too. Sometimes its hurt is necessary for it to grow, but sometimes it's truly harmful. Over time, if you listen, you'll learn the difference.

"You need to love, too: Love much, love without boundary. Using your heart will make it stronger, like a muscle, like your mind. Let yourself feel, even if you have to do it alone. Let others help you build up your soul, allow them in, let them help you grow."

You look down at the soul with a certain sort of admiration. "I'm sure a parable of pearls isn't lost on you, being what you are... how an oyster will coat a grain of sand in layer after layer of stunning color. This is your pearl. It's small now, but it will grow, by your hand or by someone else's. We are the sum of all our experiences and all the people in our lives, good, bad and bittersweet." Yesterday at 4:37 PM

caedisetmare "I understand."

As quickly and involuntarily as before, the knot of tension in you loosens. You can do this. It'll b harde, you know it will, but it's not insurmountable. Listen to your heart. Love all you can, openly, let others in. Let them help you. Feel. It's not impossible.

You smile. It is a a rare smile for you, a crooked, natural grin. Not composed or fashioned into something prettier, it just *is.*

"... Thank you, my friend," you say after a moment, "I didn't dare to hope this would work, but you did it. There's no way I can properly express how much this means to me, or how *grateful* I am." You blink a couple times, third eyelid swiping over before you can tear up. After everything, it's a chance to be whole again, literally in the palm of her hand.

It strikes you as incredibly Young Adult Novel, but. That doesn't bother you much.

amourete You smile right back. Even in your exhaustion, your cheery optimism about this soul thing hasn't left you one bit.

"Put out your hands," you ask, offering out the soul. "I want you to hold it. It's yours, after all... Just be gentle."

caedisetmare "Of course. It would probably be safer if you place it in my hands - claws, after all, even if I usually blunt them."

Carefully, you cup your hands, thumbs and claws all carefully far from your palms as you hold them out. You can be gentle, you've held delicate things before.

You hope you can be gentle *enough* for this.

amourete You do just that! As soon as she's cupped her hands, you delicately put the soul-matter into them, like pouring water. It rolls over your fingers and pools in her hand, a tiny amount of mercury-like fluid, glowing purple.

"That's you," you say with a little smile, putting your hands under hers as you look up.

caedisetmare "That's... me. Huh."

There's no way to properly explain how it feels to hold your soul in your hands. There's no good way to describe a lot of things regarding this, you'd wager, looking at the pooled substance in your hands with wonder.

She'd... made this, essentially. Felide had very much done the impossible.

You don't bother to hide how your fins perk up when she puts her hands under yours, reflecting her smile back at her when you look back up.

"This is..." you trail off, speechless, but the tone says it all. You are absolutely in awe of her.

amourete You're purring. It's a soft rumble in your chest, and your smile stays firmly on your face even as you look back at her soul. You lift it from her hands again, spinning it back into its long, silky thread, and then direct it back into her chest, where it collects around the place where her heart would be.

"I won't say anything," you promise. "This is something you have to decide for yourself, who you want to tell - if anyone at all right now. There's still a chance this won't work..."

caedisetmare Felide's discretion relieves you more than you expected it to. This is still new, and very fragile, after all. Carefully, you set your hands in your lap, relaxing, though you can't quite manage to stifle the smile on your face. That's there to stay, apparently.

"Thank you, again - I feel like I'll be thanking you a million times over. I don't... want to get anyone's hopes up, if it doesn't work. But you know, we made it this far, so. It seems the winds are favorable." Faintly, the lines on your skin are pulsing, speaking without thinking, some admittedly sappier things you are absolutely not going to translate, ever.

"Though, I will let you know when I decide to be public with the information; you should definitely be allowed to brag about creating a soul from nothing, after all!"

amourete It's a good thing you don't speak fish.

"Then I'll anxiously await the day you can say with assurety that you once again have your own heart," you say. You offer your arms for a hug, if she'll let you.

caedisetmare Oh, you will absolutely hug her, this is a big occasion - a hug is the least you can do.

You embrace her carefully, murmuring a quick warning about your spinal fin as you do so - the last thing anyone wants is dear Felide getting stung.

amourete You mind her warning as best you can, laughing as you do. What a wonderful woman.

"You should stay for tea," you say when you pull away. "I think I have at least that much in me, and then I'll likely need to rest for a good, long while."

caedisetmare "Well," you start, "If you want me to, I'll stay for tea - but don't you dare put off resting for my sake."

Despite your fussing, you still sound fond, goddamnit. Why is it so hard to just chide her like anyone else.

amourete "Women and cats will do as they please," you say without missing a beat, taking her hands in yours as you stand. "And I happen to be a little of both. Shall we?"

caedisetmare That's fair, honestly.

You stand shortly after her, not in any particular hurry to do so or to extricate your hands from hers.

"I can't argue with that. Lead the way, Miss Lejion."

[natthewriter]

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