#i want her to start killing and biting and ripping people apart with her teeth

[anachronistic-falsehood]

twirling my hair kicking my feet thinking about qbagi rn she’s so hot for threatening the federation <3

[dullgecko]

I realise I’ve been sending you a bunch of fig centric ones so have another that includes all the bad kids

Riz will eat anything and I mean anything like he’s eaten vegetables that were like 70% mould before and didn’t notice anything wrong. At worst he ate a rocks in a bet with Fabian and didn’t even have any adverse effects.

Gorgug can eat most things meat based as long as there not to out of date but when he ate raw chicken in front of the bad kids for the first time it gave all the bad kids a scare apart from Riz who thought it was completely normal.

Pre archdevil fig could eat more than the normal human but not by a huge amount but loved spicy things and you could not find a spice on the mortal plane that she could not tolerate.

Post archdevil is a different story all together now all mortal spices don’t even register as spicy and she has to start getting them from hell. Fig is altogether a good cook due to Sandra Lynn teaching her. So the first time she cooks with this new spices she literally nearly kills riz who’s nose is very sensitive to spices. she has since been banned from cooking spicy foods for other people as the stronger “hell spices” could knock out a normal human

Adaine and Fabian have mostly normal palettes but Fabian swears he can eat more spicy foods than fig and has had to have Kristen heal him on more than one occasion.

Kristen needs to be very careful when cooking because if she adds to much or corn a spiteful Helio will animate it. Though Helio also has issues if she puts not corn in her foods.

Riz and his mom both have mythril stomachs, and given how food-insecure they've been since his dad died he /hates/ wasting food. Goblins dont need to or even want to eat full meals every day but when they do they try to pack away as MUCH as possible. When he got really hungry as a kid he'd even dumpster dive outside their appartment because he didnt want to worry his mom by asking for more food and basically any food scraps he found in there were still good by goblin standards. Its also how he developed his crippling coffee habit, if he gets really hungry he's able to supress his appetite somewhat with it.

He can eat basically anything as long as its not poisonous, and has the jaw strength and tooth sharpness to grind down rocks into powder. Stale bread, bones, shells and even straight up wood don't stand a chance. He does have to be a little more careful about what plants he eats now though because he kept consuming things that he was allergic to and made his allergy reactions worse.

He's not eating random half-rotten or mouldy food as often now though because while at school he gets MOST of his meals from the caffeteria rather than at home because its free. He's less likely to injest something he shouldnt accidentally but just in case he does his whole party is primed and ready to dose him with his allergy meds if he starts developing hives.

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Gorgug and Riz sometimes have hangouts at the Thistlespring tree where they spend the whole time wilding out a little and ripping into raw meat with their bare hands and teeth (meat provided by Wilma and Digby after Lydia had a word with them about Gorgugs eating habits). Its fun and it satisfies a primal part of their brains to just go nuts on a fresh chunk of animal flesh. When with the other kids they'll, begrudgingly, eat their chicken and fish properly cooked though just because it makes some of them gag.

The other bad kids have caught both of them, on more than one occasion, licking blood off their hands after a particularly brutal fight. Gorgug slightly less often than Riz because he's using an ax, but the goblin if disarmed or unable to swing his sword will resort to biting and clawing. Everyone but Gorgug was initialy grossed out (What the FUCK the ball spit it out you dont know where they've been) but they got used to it eventually. They've started to develop a ranking system, based on taste, of the various creatures Riz has chomped on.

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Fig and Riz are spicy-food buddies, but ONLY if the spicyness itself is from chillis. Riz cant feel the heat from capsasium but he enjoys the taste, whereas Fig loves it for how hot it is so they'll often split some questionably edible mega-hot curries when they order takeaway. Fabian tried a bite once and was coughing and crying for hours afterwards (the second bite he took on a dare required healing afterwards).

Once she starts integrating more exotic spices into her meals is where the problem starts. Riz can finally TASTE the spicyness and he's of the opinion that she's insane if thats what she feels when she eats chilli. Fig accidentally tear-gassed him once by using a spice that, once she did some research, they worked out was a straight up goblin repellant. He walked into the kitchen as she took the lid off a pan full of chilli and immediatly had a coughing fit so bad they were worried they'd have to call an ambulance (he was fine after a while, he just had to sit outside on the lawn in the fresh air until his sinus stopped stinging and his eyes stopped watering... he may have also gotten Adaine to dump a full bottle of milk on his face).

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Its a delicate balancing act for Kristen trying to make things without what she's cooking become sentient and hostile. Luckily it seems to only be isolated to things that get heated up, so she's safe making sandwiches and salads, but anything that requires the use of the oven or pans needs a quick dusting of cornflower to appease Helio or there are consequences.

[imperator-titus]

Ghost from the Past [Part 12]

(Prev)[Part 11] (Next)[Part 13] [Master Post]

This one is for the horny fuckers reading this story. If you don't want to read smut (very valid of you), you can probably stop after Eletha and Astarion talk to the mirror image. If you want to read right up to the point of explicit descriptions of sex, stop after Gale gets Eletha to join them on the bed. You can come back after the last linebreak. (I tried to put in content warning tags and the post didn't show up in the tags, I apologize to people who have those tags blocked.)

Honestly, this might be my magnum opus of smut, I don't think I've ever written something this complex before. I even had a friend read it over to make sure it can be followed, which is not something I normally do.

Please enjoy!

“You good?” Eletha asked Gale as they sat around the fire the next morning. “You don’t have to come if you’re not feeling so hot.”

“With you, I feel most hot,” Gale responded, unknowingly smirking as he expertly flipped their morning sausage. Then it occurred to him what he just said. “I mean- That is to say- I feel fine. Thank you. I think it would be prudent of me to accompany you.”

She gave him a little smile. “I appreciate it.”

“You look like hell,” Astarion said to Gale as he walked up, taking the seat next to him opposite Eletha.

“Not as bad as you,” Eletha spat back defensively. Gale merely shook his head, not dignifying the insult with a response.

Astarion crossed his arms and pouted. “Well, there’s nothing to eat out here. And you have been stingy with your neck.”

A look crossed her face that said she didn’t think about that. Her demeanor became apologetic. “Oh. Right. I have some time.”

In the privacy of his tent, Eletha took off her shirt and neatly set it aside. 

The wind was knocked out of her chest as Astarion’s body collided with hers and slammed her forward onto the hard ground. She opened her mouth to complain, only to grunt as Astarion’s fangs sank into her neck. He wrestled her a bit, like an animal dominating a rival or immobilizing its prey.

It wasn’t the pain that surprised her, but the ferocity with which he feasted on her. The sounds echoing her ears weren’t his normal pleased sighs. When his teeth left her flesh, she half-expected them to come down somewhere else to rip her apart.

“Hells, I-” Astarion stammered, shaking with the realization of what he’d just done.

Eletha remained face-down, a soft sound escaping her lips as she tried to speak.

“Stop. Stop. Don’t try to talk,” he pleaded in a panicked whisper as he dug through his things for a potion. Potions he’d been stealing from her. Potions she’d let him take.

Astarion flipped her over, the sight of her blood tantalizing yet horrifying. The two large punctures on her neck were accompanied by two smaller ones where his lower canines had sunk in too, as well as indentations of his other teeth. Desperately, he pulled out the potion’s stopper with those same teeth and, holding her head up, he slowly tipped the contents into her mouth.

The bleeding stopped. The wounds started to knit back together. After a moment, her eyes fluttered open and she looked around, disoriented.

Holding her tightly to him, he cried into her hair, “I am so sorry.”

“Can’t breathe,” she mumbled into his shoulder. Quickly, he let go. Eletha rubbed the healing bite wound. “I’m fine. Just achy.”

“I… I don’t know what came over me…” Astarion tried to explain, distraught. “I couldn’t stop… I could have killed you.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I nearly did.”

Eletha leaned forward.

Astarion licked the blood off his lips.

Smack! Her head met his in a swift strike.

“Let’s get out of this fucking place so it doesn’t happen again,” Eletha grumbled as she put on her shirt and Astarion rubbed the pain out of his forehead.

“You okay?” Shadowheart asked, clearly spying all the dried blood stuck to Eletha’s neck and chest.

“He always was a messy eater.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

With Halsin’s little spirit friend taken care of and after Astarion’s slip of feral hunger, Eletha suggested that they split up to deal with things more quickly. The next morning, Eletha, Karlach, Gale, and Astarion would investigate Moonrise while the others tied up loose ends and investigated the Sharran Temple further for Shadowheart’s sake.

Eletha’s cold-hearted mask really helped them infiltrate the Absolute’s stronghold with little effort required.

After satisfying their curiosity and freeing the prisoners, Gale excused himself shortly after they arrived at Last Light Inn. While they made sure the Harpers would allow the freed prisoners to stay, he wanted to rush back to camp and make sure dinner would be ready for everyone. They would need their strength in the next few days if they were going to deal with Ketheric Thorm and the Absolute’s army.

“He’s been actin’ weird, yeah?” Karlach asked the others once he was out of earshot.

“Gale’s always been weird, no?” Astarion answered, hands on his hips.

“Mystra did tell him to find the heart of the Absolute and-” Eletha made a sound like a bomb detonating while making a hand gesture that simulated Gale’s magic orb exploding out of his chest.

“We’re not going to let him do that, right?” Karlach pleaded, her eyes big and wet, her hands clasped, her knees bent in supplication.

“Of course not. If we can help it.”

On the way back, Eletha and Astarion talked about the feelings the blood merchant dug up.

“If it makes you feel any better, refusing was pretty in-line with how you used to be,” she told him as he expressed a small amount of remorse for giving up power for just a moment of discomfort. “You’re much too precious to do such a thing.”

“Hm. I don’t always want to remember who I was. But I like the way you speak about it sometimes. Even when you’re angry with him, there is a fondness in your voice.” If only the sky was clear and there were stars in the sky. If only their surroundings weren’t so twisted and dreary. This would be a nice little walk together. “If I called you ‘Lori’, what did you call me?”

“Oh, silly things. Like ‘Princeling’ or ‘Your Highness.���” Astarion smiled to himself. “But you were always my ‘Star,’ even when we were small. It’s hard to say it angrily.”

“It’s odd, thinking you took care of me once.”

“Once? I took care of you for thirty years, now I’m taking care of you again. I used to pick you up and carry you across puddles. I had to be your sparring partner because I wouldn’t hit you too hard.”

“I get the idea.” A moment passed in silence as they walked. “I don’t want to go back. To the Dales, I mean. Not unless it’s to slaughter the lot of them.”

Eletha let out a big sigh. “It’s fine if you want to go back. I don’t have to see them, just find them.”

“They tortured you. Stop making excuses for them,” he growled at her. “Imagine if I said ‘let’s leave Cazador alone, he wasn’t that bad.’ You’d think I lost my mind!”

“I just don’t want you to regret passing up the chance because of me.”

“Our families imprisoned you in your own body and none of the others did anything about it. Good riddance.” More gently he added, “You are the only family I need now.”

“And Gale?”

“What about him?” Her knowing gaze made him roll his eyes. “Fine. I suppose we can have a pet.”

“Speaking of… Where is Gale?” Eletha asked, noting that he wasn’t by the fire with the others.

“Maybe he’s in his tent. Crying.” He said it flippantly, but Astarion immediately made a beeline for Gale’s tent. Not hungry, Eletha followed.

“Good evening! I am here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep. He wishes to extend you an invitation for a private conversation in a more suitable locale,” the projection outside the wizard’s tent told them genially.

“The hells is this?” Astarion asked Eletha, indicating the projection with a confused little sneer.

“You are speaking to a mere projection of Gale. His appearance, his voice, and a certain measure of his personality-” the projection did a little pose, crossing his body with one curled hand while raising up the elbow of the other, “reconstituted in this case to play as emissary and usher.

“Would you care to join him? What little I could glean from the portion of his mind that is open to me, it is a matter most urgent.”

“Both of us?” Eletha asked while Astarion held back giggles behind his hand.

“This message was meant for the both of you. I even have instructions for if only one of you was present,” the projection explained. “Simply follow yonder path and soon you will find him.”

“We shouldn’t keep him waiting,” Astarion told her with a cheeky little grin.

“Yes, Your Highness,” she answered with a good-natured shake of her head.

“I do like that. Could you do it some more?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

As they followed the glowing path, their surroundings changed into something much more pleasant.

“Someone fancies his illusions,” Eletha said quietly, admiring Gale’s handiwork. 

“I love this time of night,” Gale said wistfully as they approached, staring up at the sky. “There’s an almost reverent silence that accompanies the peak of darkness, when you’d almost believe the dawn will never break.

“The cradle of eternity. The timelessness of lovers. That most beautiful of fantasies.”

“Are you quite all right? Do you have a fever or something?” Astarion asked in annoyance, not really impressed with Gale’s undoubtedly carefully-chosen words. Eletha placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him before sitting down beside Gale.

“I will be, soon. I am perhaps just one hard day away from being without any troubles at all.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Astarion commanded, warning Gale with a stern finger and a furrowed brow.

“This may be my last night alive. I wanted it to be under a canopy of beauty and wonder…” Gale continued without dignifying Astarion’s threat with a response. His eyes, open and honest, regarded him and then Eletha in turn. “... And with company to match.”

“Stop talking like that!” Astarion’s voice had venom in it, but because they knew him so well, they could hear the emotional wobble in it. “Throwing your life away for Mystra is the daftest thing you’ve ever done. I won’t let you do it.”

Gale rose to his feet. “Death is assured. Mystra’s forgiveness is not.”

“Didn’t you hear her when Lae’zel was ready to die for a lie?” Astarion asked, waving a hand at Eletha, who stood again in case she needed to break the two apart. “Gods don’t care about us. Mystra threw you away, even before your little Karsite experiment. She should be asking for your forgiveness.”

“Astarion, leave him alone,” Eletha pleaded, touching him on the shoulder. He rolled it out of her touch and shot her a glare.

“Tell him. Tell him he shouldn’t do it!”

“I…” Eletha looked from Astarion to Gale, whose glower softened just a bit to meet her eyes. “I don’t want you to…”

“It wasn’t my intention to upset you,” Gale told them both quite earnestly, a self-chastising tone in his voice. Their reactions hurt. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

“Then what did you intend, Gale?” Astarion asked cattily, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“This is all so difficult to navigate… Harder than any game of chess…” Astarion stopped pouting and started nervously playing with his hands. His eyes went from angry to… scared. “If things were different, if we were home, I’d have taken the time to do things properly. And maybe I’d understand a little better what properly means, in this case…

“That is to say… I’ve grown very fond of you. Both of you. This has been so very complicated, but-”

Astarion grabbed Gale’s head and smashed their lips together. While they were in their heated kiss, Eletha tried to sneak away, a cheekily little smile on her face. Astarion’s hand shot out and grabbed her by the tip of her ear.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, Gale’s arms loosely wrapped around him.

“I really appreciate being a witness to your union, but maybe I don’t need to be here for the whole thing?”

“What part of both did you not understand?”

“No, I understood it.” Gale’s face fell and Eletha stammered, her cheeks turning red. “It’s just- I’m very fond of you too, sweetling, it’s just-”

“I understand,” Gale said, resigning himself to her answer. Astarion gave him an admonishing soft smack on the face.

“No,” he told him, like a master telling his dog to drop something disgusting. Then he turned to Eletha and jabbed a finger at her face. “No. We had this talk. You deserve this. Just say yes like you want to.”

“I…” Her eyes flicked between their faces and she had to look at her feet in embarrassment. “If this is going where I think it’s going…”

“A hedonistic pile of limbs, I’m hoping,” Astarion said devilishly, raising a leg coquettishly.

“Hush. Let her speak,” Gale admonished, sparing him a playful smirk. 

“It’s just that… The last time I crawled into bed with someone, I broke down crying in the middle and went on a three-month bender,” she eventually admitted. “You two should get to have fun. I’m fine. I promise.”

“If there’s any crying, we stop. At least, if that isn’t the game we’re playing. Right, darling?” Astarion looked to Gale, who was giving Eletha his sympathetic puppy eyes, and with a touch of his finger to his jaw, turned his face to him. 

“Of course,” Gale answered quizzically, as if the question was so ludicrous that the thought never entered his mind. Detaching himself from Astarion, Gale took Eletha’s hand in his and gazed deeply into her eyes. “I'm scared too. I don't really know how to do this. But I want to try. With you.”

How could she say no?

She could, of course. If she really wanted to, she could walk away. If it started to go poorly, she could stop.

“We deserve some fun,” Eletha said to herself as much as them. Gale leaned down and met her lips in a kiss, one hand supporting the small of her back. This time he was much more sure of himself.

Astarion huffed playfully. “Now, now, don't hog her all to yourself.”

“I'm afraid I got carried away,” Gale said with a blushing grin. “It's just as well. I wanted to change the illusion to something much more impressive.”

“Oh, Bhin, you don't need to impress us,” Eletha reassured him. Quietly Astarion disagreed with a little “yes he does.”

“We’re not gods.” Once more Astarion argued, muttering, “Speak for yourself.”

The way Gale looked at her made Eletha’s breath catch. Astarion just believed that finally, someone worshiped him the way he deserved. 

“I beg to differ.”

“So we’ve moved on to begging now? I can work with that.” Eletha glared at Astarion, willing him to shut up, but Gale only laughed.

“Maybe another time, when we’ve figured out how this works.”

“Don't encourage him,” she whispered.

“Just summon us a nice comfy bed.”

As Gale focused on setting the stage, Astarion sauntered up to Eletha with a thirsty smirk on his lips. Her heartbeat quickened as he started undoing her armor with expert dexterity. Needing something to do, she offered him the same help.

“Don't be shy,” he cooed, amused by her inability to look at him and the bright flush blooming on her cheeks.

“I'm not,” she insisted petulantly. He palmed the slight heft of her breast through her shirt. When she stepped away from his touch, he chuckled darkly. “You’re not a good liar.”

Annoyed with him, which wasn't new for her at all, Eletha approached Gale, who'd been watching them for a moment with keen interest. As if it was the most interesting thing she’d ever seen, she ran her hands over the sumptuous velvet of his shirt before trying to take it off. He laughed as their height difference became a problem and he had to remove it the rest of the way. 

“It's okay to be nervous. I’m nervous too,” Gale told her sweetly before leaning down for another kiss. 

Astarion came up behind her and placed kisses and playful bites on her shoulder and neck before pushing them both onto the bed. Eletha glared at him over her shoulder. “You're such a brat.”

As if to prove her point, he flicked her away so he could work on undoing Gale’s trousers. Gale rose up on his elbows and the two exchanged passionate kisses while Eletha removed the rest of her clothes by herself. 

Astarion moved from Gale’s lips to his neck, marking his way with kisses and nips while his hands combed through his chest hair, gently squeezing the plush swell of his pecs. Astarion traveled down the wizard’s torso, lavishing it with his mouth and fingers. 

Gale managed to come to his senses and held out a hand to Eletha, beckoning her onto the bed with a smile. “What are you doing over there by yourself?”

“Looked like you two were having fun, I didn’t want to interrupt.” Despite her protestations, she knelt on the edge of the bed within his reach. 

His fingers touched her skin softly, so softly she had to refrain from twitching away as it tickled. Tracing the scars that littered her body, he was enamored by her. In return, she ran her fingers all along his arm and through his hair, gazing into his eyes deeply.

A shocked little moan escaped his lips as Astarion stopped teasing him and finally wrapped his cold wet mouth around his cock. Under his tongue, he could feel a rush of blood make it that much harder.

Astarion had to find some way to not shut off, just like how Eletha had to find a way to not psyche herself out or Gale needed to figure out how to not treat them like Mystra. It would creep in from time to time, their little internal battles. 

Astarion pictured the look on Eletha’s face as she’d sucked the life out of him, how proud and interested she was in making him feel so good. So he focused on that. 

When Gale’s other hand tangled itself in his curls, he smirked around the hot throbbing cock in his mouth, knowing that he was doing a good job.

Of course, Astarion always took pride in his work. He was very good, after all. He readily boasted about it. But it would occur to him that he never really took pride in it as he was working. 

This was different. This was real. He wanted to do this over and over again, to learn exactly what drove them insane, how much he could tease before they had no choice but to cry out his name in ecstacy.

Red eyes flicked up to see if Gale was watching his performance, only to have Eletha’s ass take up most of the view as she straddled the wizard’s face.

“Come here,” he’d whispered without Astarion noticing, his voice husky with desire. A deft flick of his fingers summoned a mage hand that helped him guide her while his other hand was busy reassuring Astarion that he was appreciating his attention.

New to this sort of thing, even after all the years she’d lived, Eletha gingerly swung her leg over his body and knelt above him so she could see only his eyes when she looked down between her breasts and over the slight bump at the bottom of her stomach. 

As the mage hand caressed her neck, Gale placed his free hand on her thigh. It traveled up slowly, tracing the peak of her hip bone before rounding back to the curve of her backside. He gave it a few gentle squeezes while the mage hand came down over her breasts, mimicking the same motion.

Then he moved his hand so that he could lightly run a finger up the inside of her thigh, causing her to tremble. Delicately, he found the start of her slit and pressed his middle finger against it, not so insistent as to part it, but enough that he could feel her body react to his touch.

Gale’s mouth fell open in a soft moan and he could feel her shudder as his hot breath washed over her skin. His fingertip brushed up and down a few times. He watched as his mage hand ran trails down her stomach and when it paid special attention to her lower belly, she broke through the haze of pleasure his fingers were creating to smack the magical hand aside.

“Don’t be like that,” Astarion chided, his slicked hand giving Gale’s cock a few more languid strokes as he approached the head of the bed. “I think it’s delicious.”

Kneeling in front of her, he pulled her into a passionate kiss. Gale’s finger finally pressed into her folds and became slick as it tested how receptive she'd become from his light caresses. 

Eletha’s mouth opened with a surprised gasp and Astarion took this opportunity to slip in his tongue. The thought of mixing their spit and the taste of Gale’s cock sent a thrill up all their spines.

Eletha found balance by holding on to Astarion’s shoulder as her other hand trailed down his torso. He let out a soft little whimper of pleasure against her lips as her fingers wrapped around his half-hard cock.

Meanwhile, Gale slid his finger slowly in and out of her, pressing against different points to find the right spot to focus his attention. As a second finger joined the war effort, Eletha’s mouth pressed into a tight line against Astarion’s lips as she emitted a strained hum. He almost asked if she was okay when she rolled her hips down into the source of pleasure again. 

Using his nose to reveal her clit, Gale breathed in her scent with a satisfied groan before swiping the swollen bundle of nerves with his hot wet tongue. He knew that he was doing a good job as she tightened around his fingers and her juices filled his mouth. 

All the while, she stroked Astarion’s needy cock with one hand and clung to him with the other as his attention on her neck threatened to leave bruises. After a few minutes, Eletha had to lift herself up on shuddering thighs.

“Is he that good, my love?” Astarion asked her teasingly with a smug curl to his words, holding her up so Gale could slip out from underneath her. 

Eletha came back to her senses and pushed Astarion back to fall amongst the pillows that Gale had conjured. Eyes full of desire, voice hoarse from restraining her own pleasure, she said, “Why don't you try for yourself?”

“I would enjoy returning the favor.” Gale wiped his face clean with the back of his arm, gazing at Astarion with the same hungry longing that he offered Eletha.

“I wouldn't dream of saying no,” Astarion replied with a smirk, parting his knees as an invitation. 

Gale slid between his legs, crawling like a panther stalking its prey. Starting at the knee, he kissed and bit a trail up his inner thigh until he found his still-hard cock. 

Astarion’s spindly fingers wove into the gentle waves of Gale’s hair as his head bobbed up and down. Letting his own head fall back, giving his neck a chance to relax, he focused on the sensation of Gale’s masterful tongue swirling and flicking and swiping. 

His sensitive ears twitched at the guttural sounds of him throating his cock. Gale gasped for air and groaned hungrily as Eletha joined in the fun. 

Rolling his hips to be perpendicular to the bed, she enthusiastically lapped-up the mix of juices leaking from his cock. His tongue and fingers had pushed away her uncertainties and now she felt almost drunk. 

Every shift of her legs and every pulse of his cock in her mouth made her whine and shudder. Gale spared a hand to place on her head, play with her ears, while she clawed at his soft peachy ass.

Astarion lifted Gale’s head up with a gentle tug of his hair and the blissful look on the wizard’s face made his cock twitch with excitement. “You’re doing a marvelous job, beautiful, but I’d like to try something else.”

“Whatever you desire,” Gale responded in a husky voice.

Arranging them like furniture, Astarion set the next scene. 

Sitting up, Eletha was able to more easily swallow Gale’s cock. Kneeling in front of her, he had no choice but to cry out in a needy groan as he felt himself slide into her throat. His hands stroked her face, running along the line of her jaw, or holding the back of her head. Eventually, he was rolling his hips forward, very slightly at first and then picking up the pace, fucking her mouth.

Meanwhile, Astarion was between her legs, slipping two fingers into her greedy cunt without resistance while his tongue attacked her clit. He could feel her squeeze involuntarily as his lips sucked and his tongue lapped. 

When she spread her legs, giving him better access, he managed to add a third finger. Even in his position, even with the slutty sounds Gale was making, Astarion could hear Eletha moan. Gale’s legs shuddered as the sound undoubtedly sent pulses of pleasure up his cock, lodged in her throat.

Astarion was definitely excited, this was definitely fun, but he seemed to be the only one capable of a coherent thought at the moment. For now, this would have to be his show.

Ceasing his ministrations, he encouraged the two of them to decouple. “Sorry to ruin the mood, but this next bit is going to require some… consideration.”

“Y-yes… That is probably wise…” Gale agreed, trying to catch his breath. Eletha, collapsed into the pillows, only managed a weak nod.

“Being the god that I am, I could do this well into the morning. I am assuming you” he pointed to Gale with a finger after licking it clean “have some sort of magical stamina.”

“Oh yes.” Gale smirked confidently. “I built up a well of endurance that allows me to climax multiple times, with only a short refractory period, allowing me to-”

“Yes, yes, we get it,” Astarion interrupted hastily, even though that was some tantalizing information… “That leaves us with the princess over there.”

Eletha managed to open her eyes. Slightly embarrassed, she said, “I’ve always been sort of… one-and-done.”

“You poor thing,” Astarion cooed sympathetically, offering her a cheeky pout. Pretending to give it some thought, he asked, “So, why don’t you two have a little moment, hm?”

“I’m surprised, I assumed that you would want to go first…” Gale said, not exactly arguing, but he had thought about this at some length.

“I’m actually being very selfish. If this goes sideways, I don’t want to be the one to start it,” he explained flippantly, adding in a little shrug.

Actually, he was a bit scared, but he wouldn’t admit that. Scared of what it might do to him, or to her, to be wrapped around each other again.

Gale chuckled softly in the back of his throat, a knowing half-cocked smile on his lips as he looked from Astarion to Eletha. With gentle but strong hands, he grabbed her by the waist and brought her down out of the pillows so Astarion could have a better view.

Kneeling between her legs, he kissed his way up her body. Finding her breasts with his mouth, he gave a nipple a few experimenting sucks and flicks of his tongue. Her rough hands wandered over his sides, his back, his arms. 

Gale took a moment to gaze into her eyes, shrinking the world to just the two of them. Eletha’s breath hitched. To be looked at in such a way…

As if understanding her thoughts, he lightly kissed her lips. She responded with more insistence. Gale lowered himself so that his impatient cock could rest against her wet cunt. With gentle rolls of his hips, he rubbed against her clit while they kissed sloppily, slicking his cock in the process.

Cock poised to enter her, he broke away to gaze down at her once more. Clearly, but sweetly, he told her, “I love you.”

This seemed to shock her a little. Gale was thankful he said it, made it obvious, and that her response was, “I love you, too.”

Locking their lips together, Gale finally slid into her, interlocking their bodies. His moan intermingled with her gasp as he felt her tighten and she felt the sudden fullness that his cock brought her. They stayed like that for a few heartbeats, kissing passionately as they gave themselves and each other a moment for their hearts to calm down.

Astarion watched with an equal mix of curiosity, hunger, and jealousy. The sickly-sweet way Gale made sure his partner was ready, the longing looks in their eyes, the honesty of their words… It was more than he ever could have imagined for himself. Would they do that for him, when it was his turn? Was he truly more than just a thing to be used?

On the other hand… Despite the fact that he’d insisted Gale go first, Astarion still felt a flare of anger to see someone else enjoy and please his former love. Eletha belonged to him.

His hand slipped down to his cock and started stroking it with a languid pace, ghosting over the shaft and tightening his grip as he passed over the head. Self-pleasuring had never been of interest to him, he was always too busy pleasing others to keep them distracted. But watching the two created a rare mood in him. Speeding up to keep time with Gale’s thrusts, he imagined how it would feel when it was his turn. Gale certainly seemed to be enjoying himself.

Gale lifted his head and sat back on his haunches as Astarion approached. The vampire took hold of his bearded face by the chin and smashed their lips together in a mess of open-mouthed kisses. He pulled away with a hungry smirk on his face before leaning down to playfully bite at Eletha’s pale breast, leaving a slight mark that claimed her. 

“Perhaps we should give our princess a little rest?” he suggested, giving her clit a little stroke that made both Gale and Eletha shudder, thus proving his point.

Eletha sat up on one elbow to bring her mouth around Astarion’s cock. While she eagerly licked and swallowed, her other hand worked Gale’s shaft, slick and thick from pounding her throbbing cunt. 

Kneeling on either side of her, Gale and Astarion battled for dominance with their mouths. Gale intertwined their fingers, reassuring him with light strokes of his thumb. Eletha switched between their cocks, one gripped in each hand.

The two broke away, Gale panting. He smirked. “I would offer you my neck, but I’m afraid the taste of my blood would sour the mood.”

“I appreciate the sentiment.” Leaning back, Astarion released Eletha from her duties. He swept back what little hair she managed to let grow and with a gentle smile that would have surprised him if he could see it, he asked, “Would you like to be lost in one another again, my love?”

When this all started, Eletha was worried that just being around them would bring her to tears. She felt reassured when nervousness was replaced with elation, lust and desire warming her whole body. But the ultimate test was always this moment, when the really old memories would replay themselves in real time.

Eletha looked up at Astarion and, at the sound of his loving words so honest and open, she could feel her chest tighten.

“I want to be lost with you,” she answered, forcing back the involuntary rise of fear.

With him. Him, not the young man she lost.

Gale graciously sat back to observe, admiring the way the two looked at each other. He couldn’t decide if it was the unsureness of new love or the deep connection of something old and true. Either way, it was enviable in its beauty and passion.

Astarion first buried his face in her neck, taking in the scent of her sweat mixed with Gale’s. Feeling her quickened pulse just below the skin, he wanted to bite into her, not only to drink, but to make them as whole as possible.

Eletha wove her fingers into the hair at the back of his neck and whispered against his ear, “I love you, my precious Star.”

Astarion’s voice wavered as he whispered back, “I love you too.”

With one smooth stroke, he entered her, eliciting a small gasp from her lips. Despite just accommodating someone of Gale’s size, she felt like a perfect fit.

He expected to employ his usual suave moves. Instead, he rutted and groaned, clawing and clutching at her, desperate to crawl inside her and die all over again. The effort of resisting the urge to either sob or go blank almost drove him crazy. It finally hit him that this wasn’t about Cazador or survival. This was a give-and-take, not just give.

It was a little too much and, after a few minutes of kissing and thrusting, he had to remove himself. 

When he leaned back, Gale was behind him, his strong arms grabbing his waist before snaking up to his chest, peppering his neck with bites and kisses all the while. 

A light chuckle brushed against Astarion’s ear before the wizard asked, “Might I make a suggestion?”

“Do tell,” Astarion answered sumptuously, slipping his protective sex-god mask on for just a little bit. Just long enough to come down from the emotional overcharge. 

Gale offered the instructions with his deep resonant voice, his cock pressed into the cleft of Astarion’s ass. 

Astarion laughed suggestively, spying Eletha out of the corner of his eye as he stroked Gale’s beard idly. “Do you think our little pet can handle any more?”

“Surely she has more strength than that?” Gale answered, sending her a smoldering smirk as his hands wandered over Astarion’s pale, lean body.

Eletha looked to the sky like a dying man resigning himself to his fate before closing her eyes. After offering up a silent prayer and strengthening her resolve, she said, “I am yours.”

“Oooh,” Astarion purred. “Our fearless leader at our mercy? What a treat.”

With Eletha kneeling on the bed, her hands on its edge, Gale stood in front of her while Astarion took position behind her. 

Taking hold of her slim backside, Astarion spread her glistening cunt with his thumbs. Placing his cock in the space he made, he bucked his hips, rubbing against her and slicking himself again at the same time.

At the side of the bed, Eletha opened her mouth to accept Gale’s cock once more. With gentle strokes, he pet her head and offered her his admiration with his wide smile. “You’re doing a marvelous job. You look so beautiful.”

Gale slid a hand over her back towards Astarion. After slipping into her once more and giving her a few good thrusts to establish a rhythm, he held her ass with one hand while the other met Gale’s, the tips of their fingers playing with each other. If they could have managed to lean toward one another without awkwardness, they would’ve interlocked their lips instead.

Saliva coated Gale’s cock so thickly that it dripped down his balls only to be lapped up by her tongue when she took him down to the base. Being wedged between them, Gale’s reassuring words in her ears, Astarion’s hand occasionally giving her ass a light smack of encouragement, her cunt was so wet that it squelched and gushed with every thrust.

An unrestrained moan rose up from Astarion’s chest and out his throat as he desperately increased his pace. A similar sound, with a little more base, came from Gale. 

Later, Eletha would be impressed at their timing, but in the moment, all she felt was the pulse of their cocks as Astarion filled her cunt and Gale her throat. Her breath came out in ragged gasps as they pulled out. 

“Stay there,” Gale bid her. Astarion sat to the side, panting, and watched as Gale took his place behind her. Sitting with his knees pressed into the bed, he spread her open and watched, nearly breathless, as Astarion’s cum started to drip out. 

Not letting a drop go to waste, he wrapped his lips around the entire mess, fucking her with his tongue to lap up the precious liquid. Eletha shuddered and mewed and tried to get away, but his strong hands on her backside kept them connected. 

When he could find no more of his prize, he let her go, and she collapsed onto her side.

“You’re not done yet, are you, sweetheart?” Astarion asked, pulling playfully on her ankle.

“I need a minute,” she answered, breathless, closing her eyes to keep the world from spinning.

“I suppose I can allow you to rest a moment,” he said with a roll of his eyes and a little scoff. More devilishly, he added, “But don’t think you’re getting out of here before the grand finale.”

“Don’t tease her so much,” Gale chided him with a smile and a tap on the nose.

Eletha had to vacate the bed as the two started to play-wrestle and curled up on a comfortable sofa that Gale had, at some point, thought it prudent to summon out of thin air. There she watched them fight and bicker, all in good fun, until Gale was on his stomach and Astarion’s face was pressed in between the wizard’s plump ass-cheeks.

Kneading them like dough, he worked his tongue around the quivering ring of nerves nestled there and occasionally gave the sensitive skin behind his balls a firm, wet swipe. It wasn’t long before Gale was whimpering, hiding his face in a pillow and rutting a little into the bed.

“P-please,” he begged pathetically, his toes curling to ease some of the tension coursing through his body.

“If you insist.” Astarion stuck a finger in his mouth to coat it with his spit when a jar poofed into existence next to him. 

He picked it up and unscrewed the lid to find a semi-liquid substance. It was odorless, tasteless, and had a consistency much like the juices he’d just wiped off his cock. No matter how much he rubbed it between his finger and thumb, this lubricant kept its slick nature instead of becoming tacky and irritating. 

“Wizards. What else are they hiding?”

“Are you going to fuck me or not?” Gale called out in annoyance, wiggling his ass insistently, rubbing his impatient cock against the bed.. 

He was so fun when he was annoying. Probably how Eletha looked at him for all those years.

Astarion coated his fingers in the magical stuff and carefully pressed one into Gale’s needy hole. He watched as the wizard shuddered from his touch and his cock pulsed with a sudden orgasm. Gale was so lost in bliss that he didn’t care that he was rutting around in his own cum. Groaning with wild abandon, working on instinct, he came again as Astarion worked a second finger into his ass.

“What a delightful magic trick. Come for me some more, my sweet. You make such lovely sounds,” Astarion commanded sweetly, excited by Gale’s pliance under his touch. The poor man’s cock pumped out two more loads before he decided that he was ready for his turn.

While Astarion readied himself, Gale broke through the haze and reached out a bidding hand to Eletha. Astarion had assumed she was comatose on the sofa, exhausted from being worked by their tireless bodies. But she attentively got to her feet and approached the bed. 

Gently, Gale took hold of her wrist and tugged her forward. With a little guidance, and a magic word to clean up the mess he’d made, Gale had her lie underneath him in such a way that he could easily kiss her.

“I missed you,” he told her with a fond smile, his voice husky and deep.

“How could you miss me with everything going on over here?” Eletha asked, chuckling softly, shy from his little touches. Even Astarion getting her feet out of the way felt intimate. Gale lingered over her, like a brave protector shielding her from harm with his body.

“I’m quite capable of thinking of you both.”

Gale’s head snapped back with an animalistic growl of pleasure as Astarion’s cock finally slid into him. Even the rocking of their bodies from the vampire’s precise thrusts sent shivers of excitement up Eletha’s body.

Gale’s mouth attacked every part of her he could reach as if it might be the only thing standing between him and death. As he panted in ecstasy over her body, his saliva dripped down onto her face and into her awaiting mouth. 

She could feel his hot cum coat her stomach and before it could cool, Gale guided her hand to collect it on her fingers and then brought the hand to his mouth so he could clean it with his tongue. Eletha could feel her cunt throb at the sight and he didn’t need to ask her again to feed him his own cum.

Astarion grabbed Gale by his hair and pulled him back a little. Then he held him by the throat and pulled him back further, until Astarion could press his forehead into the wizard’s sweat-slicked back. Feeling his own intense climax approach, he took hold of Gale’s cock and stroked it in time to his thrusts. 

Gale placed a gentle hand on his forearm and the simple intimate touch drove Astarion over the edge. He groaned like a feral animal as he filled Gale’s ass with his cum. With an orgasm much more powerful than the last few, Gale released his own on Eletha’s stomach. Thick strings of hot white cum even made it as far as her breasts and throat. As soon as Astarion released him from his grip and cock, Gale got on his hands and knees once more to lick her skin clean. Cum-drunk, he collapsed on top of her, covering her with his sweaty bulk.

Astarion wanted to say something witty, but he was still coming down from a high he didn’t know he was capable of achieving. And after watching Gale work, he had to come to terms with the fact that maybe he did have some things to learn…

“I want you to ride me,” Gale told Eletha when he could manage the words. His hand slipped down between her legs and ran over her swollen clit before sinking into her sloppy cunt. In her ear, he explained the fantasy he’d been playing out in his head for a while now. “Use me. I want to see how beautiful you are when you come on my cock.”

She had to come up with an answer, but she was too distracted to come up with something a little sexier than just, “Okay.”

That was enough for Gale and with one deft movement, he swapped their positions. He teased her with the head of his cock, gathering her juices as he ran it through her slit, rubbing her clit, just barely pressing it into her waiting entrance. 

Feeling left out, Astarion knelt behind her. Having cleaned himself off, he pressed his chest against her back, his dexterous hands wandering her body. Her pulse thrummed like a war drum under the skin of her neck, calling out to him. With his nose behind her ear, he whispered, “May I taste you? Please?”

Eletha managed a hum and a nod, trying to fight back her orgasm just a little longer. Much more gently, more sensually, Astarion pierced the delicate flesh of her neck and let her blood flow into his mouth. Its vitalic zest washed over his tongue and he moaned in the back of his throat, making Eletha shudder. 

Finally lowering herself onto Gale’s eager cock, she whined as it spread her open. Appreciably thicker from his heightened excitement, it stretched her cunt even further than before. Ignoring his own instructions for just a moment, Gale thrust up into her, eliciting a cry of pleasure.

As she started fucking herself, bouncing on Gale’s lap and rolling her hips, Astarion settled one hand on her hip and the other over her clit. Once he understood her rhythm, he slipped his fingers to either side of the bundle of nerves, pressing it between them, and started stroking, fingers curling and straightening in time with her thrusts.

Eletha flung her head back, making beautiful music as her cunt squeezed Gale’s cock so hard that he was briefly concerned that she might actually do some damage. He groaned in abject pleasure anyway. 

After all the teasing, cock-sucking, and thrusting, she couldn’t last long. Astarion’s voice in her ear didn’t help one bit.

“Show us how much you love us. Come for us, my love,” he commanded her sweetly, eyeing Gale from over her shoulder.

Astarion’s hand slipped from her clit as she pitched forward. Hands clutching Gale’s strong shoulders, Eletha ground her hips into his with all her strength, rubbing her throbbing clit against him while his cock stroked a very sensitive spot inside her. Gale forced himself to keep his eyes open so he could watch her face as she climaxed and he filled her cunt with a seemingly endless supply of cum. There was so much of it that it gushed out with his thrusts, even with how closely they were joined.

On shaky legs, she let him slip out and rolled to the side, collapsing on her back, covered in sweat, unable to control her breathing. As Gale found her hand with his own, Astarion decided to take this opportunity to move between her legs. With a hungry look and a lick of his lips, he purred, “My, what a mess we’ve made of you, my sweet.”

Without further ado, he swiped his tongue through her cunt, catching the cum dripping out. She shuddered and whimpered as he feasted on the delicious stuff, fucking her with his skilled tongue in the process. With one last twitch, she pleaded, “I can’t take it anymore.”

“You did wonderfully,” Gale reassured her as Astarion honored her request and moved on to licking Gale’s cock clean. The wizard pressed a kiss to the back of her hand before sitting up. Running a dry hand through the vampire’s curls, he chided playfully, “Haven’t had enough, hm?”

“That looked fun. I want my turn,” Astarion replied, lips curled into a smirk as Gale’s cock managed to come to life in his lubricated hand once more.

Without any arguments, Astarion sat in Gale’s lap, draping his arms over each shoulder as he started a battle of lips and tongues. Feeling ready, Astarion lowered himself onto Gale’s slick cock and felt his own twitch as he moaned against the other’s mouth.

Gale wrapped one arm around Astarion’s waist and snaked the other up his back to hold on to his shoulder, helping set the pace. His ego set aside, Astarion buried his face in Gale’s shoulder as his hips bucked and rolled, finding the perfect stroke to hit just the right places.

“That’s right,” Gale whispered in his ear, so calm and collected for someone who just came so hard that, if Mystra hadn’t stabilized the magic bomb in his chest, they and everything within several miles would’ve been turned to dust. “That’s a good boy. You’re doing so well.”

“Mmm, Gale,” he whimpered, biting off the urge to tell him to shut up. His words of encouragement actually made him feel even better, despite thinking it would distract him. 

Mewling, he bounced on Gale’s cock harder, desperate for a final release. Tears slipped from his eyes as he cried out, clutching Gale for dear life as he painted his lover’s torso with cum. Gale grunted softly as he spent his final orgasm in the fluttering comfort of the vampire’s insides.

“Oh no,” Gale breathed in shock, suddenly aware that Astarion was trying to not outright weep. Then he noticed Eletha clutching a pillow over her face to muffle the sounds she was making. Gale made gentle shushing noises as he started to take charge of the situation. “It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re alright.”

With a flick of his hand and a few practiced words, everything and everyone was made clean and fresh. Lying between them on his back, Gale gathered Astarion to one side and Eletha to the other, cradling their heads in the dip between his shoulder and chest. A warm, soft blanket materialized and floated down, covering them with a reassuring weight.

“I’m sorry,” Eletha managed to say eventually. “I got overwhelmed.”

“You needn’t worry about that,” Gale told her gently, placing a kiss on top of her head. Astarion said nothing, but he could feel his cold hand rest on Eletha’s arm, both of them lying across Gale’s stomach. “What matters is that we all enjoyed ourselves.”

In response, the two of them nuzzled his chest.

That was good, because if either of them had expressed regret, it would be Gale’s turn to break down into tears. For now, smothered in their collective embrace, he could rest easy.

After a few minutes, Eletha’s stomach growled. It was honestly monstrous in its tone and intensity.

She flushed and buried her face in Gale’s armpit.

“You forgot to eat, didn’t you?” Gale asked with a chuckle, amused but a little annoyed, but only because he didn’t like it when people neglected their basic needs.

“How could I?” Eletha argued, removing herself from the pile of limbs so she could find her clothes. “With your cute little mirror image telling me you had something urgent to talk about.”

“I suppose I should have added an instruction to advise you to at least have a snack…” Gale scratched his beard, mulling the oversight.

Gale tried to sit up, only to be pressed back into the bed. Astarion put more of his body on top of Gale’s, trapping him. “Just a little longer.”

“If that’s what you want,” Gale answered, letting the tension out of his body. 

Eletha got dressed and gave them both a kiss before rushing off back towards camp. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

No one was around when she got there, so she settled by the fire and served herself. Ravenous, she took a few quick bites before slowing down to appreciate Gale’s good work.

“We were a little worried about you,” Halsin remarked with a smile as he approached. Eletha blushed and looked away, embarrassed. “I could not help but hear some of your more unrestrained sounds.”

“Corellon strike me dead, I don’t know if I can face the others if they heard. It’s one thing if they think they know what was going on…” She stuffed some of the stew in her mouth and regretted it as her sore throat had trouble swallowing it down.

“You were gone for quite a while, but you have returned alone…”

“I was starving.” Her voice was hoarse and she chuckled, which didn’t help. “I’m afraid of what tomorrow brings. I might not be able to walk.”

Halsin beamed, one of his genial laughs making her stomach flip. “Satisfaction suits you. You are practically glowing.”

“Satisfied? I suppose I am.”

“It is okay to admit that you are not, if that is the case.”

“It’s just… a lot. And I have a lot of questions. Like, will that ever happen again? How often can it happen without it killing me?” Halsin placed a hand on her shoulder and muttered some healing words. She sighed in relief.

“I can imagine that it’s a difficult situation, given your past and future. I regret to say that I do not have any good advice. My fancies have always been… fleeting.”

“It’s kind of you to try. I’m sure we’ll figure it out, if we don’t die in some spectacular fashion…”

“Oak Father preserve us.” Adding to his prayer, he said teasingly, “Including your poor insides.”

“Yeah. I think we might have to give ourselves tomorrow off.” 

She glanced up at the sky, considering its impenetrable darkness. 

“Besides, I’m feeling a little… hot under the collar, so to speak.”

[syntia13treeman]

Case files 12.01

what I think happened in:

Case 12.01, the case of "Stag Hunter" or "Mr. Bonzo's toothy maw"

We need to talk about Gwen.

Full name Gwendolyn Bouchard, child of a rich family, strangely fixated on making career at OIAR of all places.

On 9th of January, after several years of exemplary if a bit slow work, she looked her boss dead in the eye and stated she wanted her job.

On 29th of January she received an email with a video of attempted murder (Lena on Klaus gun violence).

On 12th of February, after doing some additional research, she confronted Lena with the video. She assumed that Lena's superiors* wouldn't be happy to know that the 'murder' was a failed one. She let it be known that her source (singular) confirms that said mysterious superiors believe Klaus to be dead. As payment for her silence, she demanded to be let in on whatever extra operations were going on here. Lena graciously 'promoted' her to "Externals Liaison."

On Friday (March 8) Gwen received her first 'assignment' – to deliver an envelope to one Nigel Dickerson and 'any companion' of his that might be present. (So, glorified postal service).

On Saturday, (March 9) she got to meet her first 'External'. She was NOT prepared for the experience. She handed off the envelope as instructed. It got chewed in teeth that weren't soft. Mr. Bonzo the External lumbered away into the night, while somewhat shaken Gwen returned home.

Let's take a break from Gwen for a moment, to meet Ms. Jordan Bennett (age: early 20s). She's acquired bartending skills in 2020, and got hired at "Soho Jack's" strip-club in spring of 2021. Her employment there ended rather abruptly on Saturday night, 9th of March 2024. On that fateful night she was tending bar in a private suite on the third floor, where a Bachelor party was in full swing. The party consisted of (presumably) former high-school or college sports team, now in their 30s/40s, celebrating upcoming nuptials of their bud, Baz (full name unknown). (For now).

The chain of events was thus:

Somebody(/something?) planted a box of Bonzo merchandise among the presents for the groom.

Baz the Groom, a faithful Bonzo-fanboy, delightedly asked for the planted CD to be played.

Bonzo's theme-song started playing from the room speakers, and continued to play, getting louder, even after Jordan turned off the CD-player and disconnected the cables. (Later on it not only got louder, but also changed – from 'he wants to stay' in kids' voices to 'he's here to stay' in… different voices).

Summoned signalled by the music, Mr. Bonzo killed the bouncer guarding the room, and entered.

The party-guys did not notice the fresh body and were happy to see their favourite monster TV-mascot.

Mr. Bonzo somehow realized that the bartender did notice the body, and shushed her with a finger to his mouth.

Still unaware of danger, the guys found it hilarious when Bonzo picked up the groom by the arms and twirled him around like a toddler. They didn't even notice when

Bonzo ripped the man's arms right off. They did notice when Jordan screamed, and Bonzo tore Baz's head apart, and then pulverized and ate his body.

After that the guys tried to attack, without any real effect, aside from a trickle of some kind of stinking liquid from a cut (if it bleeds… can we kill it?).

After obliterating the groom Bonzo struck a playful pose, unfolded his mouth into a bigger, toothier maw and proceeded to bite chunks out of remaining people. Those who survived all lost something (Jordan's hand being the smallest loss). Those who didn't make it were devoured whole.

Notably, it seems that none of the people in the room tried to leave it, and none of the crashes, screams, nor the loud distorted music, were noticed by anyone outside the room; the security cameras weren't working either.

After the fact the club got sued for recompense by Jordan (and possibly other survivors and families of the deceased) and tried to get their insurance to cover it. Their claim was denied as fraudulent.

With that bit of unpleasantness out of the way, let's go back to OIAR.

On Monday, March 11, a very disgruntled Gwen confronted Lena again, this time about the nature of her assignment. Lena cheerfully advised her that screaming is good for the soul, that externals may be grotesque, but are valued assets, and that sleep is important. Also that Gwen should have already figured out whose name was in the envelope she'd delivered.

On Wednesday, March 13, Gwen's caseload included a graphic description of events of last Saturday at Soho Jack’s. She had… some kind of reaction, before Alice cut it off with a 'joke.' (btw, Alice's jokes sound more and more like 'shut up about stuff that can get us killed you idiot!')

There's a lot to unpack here, and I'm not sure if I want to touch most of it.

WHOSE name was in the envelope and why? At one point I considered a theory that the intended target was actually the Bartender (not to be killed, but maimed and traumatized), but as she wasn't the only survivor, just the 'luckiest' one, and she was way too young and poor to be Gwen's associate, I have to go back to option nr 1: The groom. Bonzo did zero-in on him upon entry, and only after completely removing him from this world did he change to more casual look and leisurely eating mode. (Work before play; at least he has good work ethics?) (No! Kill it with fire!) So. Why did 'Baz' have to die? Lena expected Gwen to know. Originally I was sure it was Colin or Alice, who both know too much. Since it's not them, the only thing that comes to mind is the 'source' who told Gwen that Klaus is believed to be dead. If a scary shady spooky government branch learned that they had a leak, they absolutely would plug it with excessive force and no consideration for collateral damage. Imagine you're Gwen, and you had a friend tell you something as a favour, and then you listen to a tale of how that friend got eaten by a creature you personally sent after him. 😬 Slightly more fucked up though less likely option: the 'source' was actually the bride-not-to-be. The Stag Night Massacre was a punishment and warning for both her and Gwen.

*Who actually are Lena's masters superiors? The ministerial prick who keeps nagging Colin about the app just… doesn't sound like someone who'd order a supernatural hit on someone. I have some thoughts, but they're too muddy to articulate just yet, so I'm moving on to:

Bonzo music. What is up with that? Nigel turned it on to call Bonzo to the door, and at the club he didn't come into the room until it was playing. Is the music just a way to get his attention, or is it like his Manchurian Candidate trigger phrase, turning him from Mr. Bonzo to Bonzo Butcher? Or is it just … part of Bonzo himself? It was getting more distorted and unsettling just as Bonzo was getting more monstrous in action and appearance. What was the cause and what was the effect here? Or: the music had to play, because it was the music that kept people from trying to run, and kept other people (and cameras) from noticing what was going on in there. So many options, so little certainty. :(

Gwen is now an accessory to murder, most likely of somebody she knew. I wonder what she's gonna do with that knowledge. Will she double down on "I can do it and I'm cool with it actually", or will she try to opt-out? (it's too late, but she could try…)

Unrelated: if at any point we meet a very angry young woman sans one hand, I'm doing the DiCaprio me

[cherry-queens-blog]

(Minors DNI)

Note: in this story you start off a homeless kid, hungry and nowhere to go. You end up meeting Gyutaro and his sister Daki and get taken in by them. (There will be a part 2 to this, I got light headed while typing this story out but i should have it posted up soon).

Warning: Blood, and Cannibalism.

I WANT YOU

It was about 11:00 at night and everybody was out and about scrolling the streets buying food, clothes, going into the whore houses to get laid, spending time with friends and their families while you sat in a dark ally homeless, starving, no where to go. you began to hear a slight ruckus from further into the dark ally. the sound of two people fighting echoed through the dark abyss when one goes quiet but two more voices could still be heard chattering away from the black darkness.

"No way brother I want to eat it!" A female voice says as a male voice followed after hers.

"I killed him so he's mine!"

You get up to investigate it coming across a dead man laying on the ground his arm laying next to him detached from his body. Your stomach rumbled, you were so hungry you couldn't help it you wanted something to eat so bad and anything at this point will have to do. You walk over picking up the mans arm, sitting down next to his body and sank your teeth into the flesh tearing it off, chowing down on the fresh flesh in your little hands completely ignoring the two who had killed this man. It wasn't great but you were to hungry to care, this will have to do as it is better then having nothing to eat at all when the women spots you taking their meal.

"Brother look"

The women says pointing her finger at you as you take another bite of the flesh. He turns and sees you thinking you must be a demon like them but you didn't smell like one nor did you look it either, you seemed human, however you were taking their food and they were not entirely happy about it not in the slightest. The women brings out a long strand of her belt and send it your way cutting your shoulder pretty deep causing you to let out a light scream dropping the mans arm, placing your hand onto your shoulder as blood seeped out of the wound when you look up to see a thin man with spots decorating his pale rough skin now directly in your face.

"I believe you have what is ours"

he says as your heart basically dropped into your starving stomach seeing him and hearing his cackling voice, he wasn't human at all, his eyes a bight yellow color that felt as if they stared into your soul, smothering it in despair.

"I'm sorry, I was really hungry. I don't have any food"

you tell him now holding your little shaking hands to your chest looking down at the ground. You were kind of thin yourself, your stomach growling more as this thing stared at you for a moment with such a harsh gaze, a twisted smile that showed his sharp pointed teeth. His harsh gaze soon fading away his smile turning into a slight frown when you started to remind him of himself a little bit.

"HEY I HAVE AN IDEA! why don't you stay with us huh? my name is Gyutaro and that's Daki or... I could just kill you and rip you apart and devour you instead"

He says in a cackled tone. You agree to stay with them and as you agree to it Gyutaro gives you back the mans arm to feed on patting you on the head with his hand lightly as Daki disapproved of his words wondering why he is going to allow a useless human to stay with them? and what on earth he was going to do with you exactly she thinks to herself but there isn't much she can do to stop this from happening since you did agree to this and Gyutaro is the one that has the say in everything after all. Gyutaro stays with you for days soon turning into months in this underground area that had human bones laying all over the place. He wanted to get to know you better which is why he spent most of his time with you and taking care of you and daki, maybe even try to convince you to become a demon since you already had no issues eating another human already and he loved that, that's what caught his attention mostly and why he chose to allow you to stay with them if you wanted. He brings you parts from what's left over from his kills, taking off pieces of flesh handing it to you for you to feast on sharing his food with you while patting your head as you ate while daki came down with rice, soup, and a iced drink for you only to find you eating another humans body part with her brother.

"SHE NEEDS TO EAT REGULAR HUMAN FOOD NOT OUR FOOD BROTHER!"

She shouts but he just shrugs giving you another piece of flesh while ignoring her. Daki sets the food down on the small table then crosses her arms over her chest glaring at him for ignoring what she said and feeding you their food and not what you should be eating. Your little eyes caught sight of the food that daki brought down but you usually turned your head to it but maybe you should at least try it, you were just so used to eating what gyutaro gave you. You felt a little curious, getting up from the floor walking over to the food feeling unsure of it but you sit down at the table and daki sits next to you handing you chop sticks, helping you with them teaching you how to use them so you can eat heathier. You try it and the taste was absolutely amazing on your taste buds, this food was delicious and much better then what Gyutaro brought you for months. Chowing down on the food enjoying every tasty bite until all of it was gone along with the drink. You let out a small yawn getting back up and walking back over to Gyutaro sitting down in his lap cuddling up to him closing your little eyes shut as he holds you close to him setting a blanket over you so you didn't get cold while you took a nap. Daki takes the dishes back up giving them to those who are in charge of cleaning.

"Make sure these are spotless along with everything else!"

She yells at them before walking away. Gyutaro tells you stories as you fall asleep in his lap, you had really grew on him and he loved you just as much as his sister, the only difference is you were quiet and very mellow a lot of the times. Years soon pass by, you had become an adult now being 20 years old and training with gyutaro through out those years. When night hit you went out exploring a little in the woods looking for any small animals that would be out so you could practice your hunting skills that Gyutaro had taught you. Hopping from tree to tree until you spot one finally now chasing after it pulling a blade from your pocket and chucking it at the animal piercing it through the head killing it instantly, the excitement filled you as you couldn't wait to show Gyutaro what you managed to do. You down from the tree you were on running over to the animal picking it up off the ground when Gyutaro walks up behind you, little did you know he was following you this entire time watching you work on your hunting skills he taught you.

"well I guess I trained you well"

He says scratching deep wounds into his neck while making you jump. You had no idea he was with you this entire time. He chuckles a little as you turn around sharing a nice cute smile at him while showing him your kill. Gyutaro pulls the blade out handing it back to you, taking it from his hand and placing it back into your pocket. He felt proud of you for improving on your abilities when you look down to the ground.

"Can I ask you something Gyu?"

He looks at you knowing something was wrong.

"Of course, you can ask me anything Y/N"

You gulp down your spit making nervousness overly noticeable to him dropping your kill on the ground, your body started to shake a little as the nervousness made you feel like your stomach shifted it felt almost like you were being suffocated.

"Uh... Umm. I was wondering something really, I've been around you for like years now and I really want to stay with you for ever."

Gyutaro looks at you a bit confused, Like aren't you living with them already forever? Are you asking him to become a demon now? what are you trying to say exactly. You notice he's a bit confused by what you said when he breaks the silence.

"Are you wanting to become a demon now?"

He asks with a smile ready to slash your arm so he can spill his blood into your wound but his smile fades when you shake your head no to him before looking at him again.

"No Gyu, What I'm saying is, I wanna be with you, like I wanna be a couple, I would like to date you, if you don't mind"

His face lights up in absolute shock hearing each word spill from your lips like it was water running down a hill. He couldn't believe what he just heard from you and just didn't know how to respond to it but he really couldn't tell you no. His heart races when he feels your soft hands run across his face, watching you lean in close until he felt your soft lips meet his, eyes widened feeling completely stunned, your lips were like a dose of a drug to him as he places his hands on your hips pulling you closer as he shuts his eyes after the shock faded away. Sliding one hand up your back, his heart was still racing but it was a moment he won't forget now embracing this moment before the kiss ended.

[maria021015]

SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 9 AHEAD!

Zaida cried out as teeth broke through the barrier of her skin and the sharp pain caused her to jerk away. To her surprise, Peter’s bite loosened willingly. He pulled away enough to give her a long sniff.

“Interesting,” he muttered and narrowed his eyes at her, tongue licking her crimson blood that dripped from his mouth as if he was savouring the taste.

“What the fuck?” Zaida shoved him away from her, swinging the pair of heels clutched in her hand to hit him across the face - which did absolutely nothing. He just stared at her with an arched brow. She was both parts terrified and weirded out. “Did you just smell me?!”

Peter wasted no time in switching targets and grabbing Lydia, who was almost catatonic in shock, silent tears streaming down her face. The alpha held his claws to her neck, poised to attack. Meanwhile, Stiles finally reached them from his sprint across the field and gripped Zaida’s hand, pulling her behind him.

“Don't kill her. Please.” Stiles begged, his amber eyes trained on the scene unfolding before them.

“Of course not. Just tell me how to find Derek.” Peter tilted his head at them in a way that was borderline animalistic. He seemed more wolf than human at this stage.

“W-what?” Zaida stuttered. “That’s what this is about? Can’t you just give him a phone call? Find him by scent? You really had to attack high schoolers?”

“What’s going on?” Lydia sobbed as her whole body shook.

“It’s okay Lyds, we’re gonna get you out of here.” the brunette assured her friend, though she had no idea how she was going to follow through.

“Tell me how to find Derek Hale,” Peter repeated, enunciating his words clearer this time, directing them at Stiles.

“I don't know that. How would I know that?” Stiles’ tongue swiped over his dry lips nervously.

“Because you're the clever one, aren't you? And because deception has a particularly acrid scent, Stiles.” Peter’s agitation started to creep into his usually cool and calm voice. “Tell me the truth. Or I will rip her apart.”

“Just tell him where his fucking nephew is, Stiles!” Zaida’s voice was shrill as she watched the man’s teeth start to grow as he bared them threateningly.

“Look- Look, I don't know, okay? I sw- I swear to God, I have no idea.” Stiles promised, but Peter decided it wasn’t good enough. In one swift motion, he removed his claws from Lydia’s neck, tugged her towards him and took a bite into her side as she screamed. This time he didn’t let go, pushing his teeth deeper. Blood gushed from the wound as soon as he pulled away and she dropped to the ground, already starting to lose consciousness from the panic, shock and blood loss. Zaida whimpered and clutched Stiles’ hand tighter to steady herself.

“Tell me!” Peter growled loudly and the sound of it made both Zaida and Stiles jump. She didn’t dare to make a move towards Lydia with the way Peter now haunched over her body.

“Okay, okay, okay, look, I- I think he knew.” The words only now began to flow from the boy's mouth in his concern that Peter would take it further than his display of willingness to spill blood. “Derek, I think he- I think he knew he was gonna be caught.”

“By the Argents?” Peter clarified at the same time as Zaida questioned in confusion, “Derek’s been captured?”

“Yeah,” Stiles confirmed, ignoring Zaida’s question. The Argents took Derek? “When they were shot, he and Scott- I think he took Scott's Phone.”

Zaida’s heartbeat pounding in her ears drowned out the rest of the conversation. What was going on? Derek was missing - taken by the Argents - whilst more hunters were at the school trying to find the beta, and Peter was running around biting people until he could get what he wanted. Oh my God. Zaida realised with a start that Peter had bitten her. Actually bitten her. Would she start to turn into one of them? And Lydia, would she? And why did she feel dizzy all of a sudden?

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” she began to mumble unconsciously, her breathing becoming more and more uneven and shallow. “No, no, no. I didn’t want this.”

“Zaida!” Hey, Zaida!” Stiles caught her as she started to fall, gently aiding her descent to the ground where she crouched on her hands and knees. “Zaida count with me. Five things, right? The grass, the dirt, your dress…”

But she couldn’t count. She couldn’t focus. She was too far gone now. Her hands shook and her vision blurred with hot tears that fell and slid down her face. She shook her head, unable to speak through the panic attack. His cold hands grasped her face, pulling her gaze up to meet his worried eyes.

“Breath with me. In through your nose. Hold for five seconds. Out through your mouth. Do it with me, come on.” he prompted and began to demonstrate the technique. Zaida nodded and followed along. At first, her breathing was still shaky and shallow, but as they repeated the exercise she found it deepening and evening out.

“Thank you,” she whispered once she was stabilised. Her muscles still felt weak, but at least she was starting to find her mind again.

“Anytime.” he nodded and his hand slipped from cradling her cheek to brush her hair out of the way and examine the wound in her neck. “It doesn’t look too deep, and the bleeding is already slowing down. Does it hurt?”

“It’s not that bad.” she brushed it off. Truly, the pain was duller than she had expected. “But that might be the adrenaline talking.”

“That’s enough of that. We’re wasting time. You’re coming with me.” he pointed at Stiles, rising to stand.

“I’m not just letting you leave her here.” Stiles rushed to Lydia’s side once Peter moved away from her, taking a closer look at her side to see that blood was still spilling.

“You don't have a choice, Stiles. You're coming with me.” The alpha raised a brow, turning to glance at the shaken girl. “Zaida will take care of her.”

“No,” she struggled to put her own thoughts together at the moment, but she knew one thing for certain. “I’m not leaving you alone with him, Stiles.”

“Call your friend. Tell Jackson where she is. That's all you get.” Peter allowed, and Stiles pulled his phone out with fumbling fingers. Peter didn’t wait around for the call to even go through before he was stalking across the field towards the car park.

“You should stay here,” Stiles told her firmly, but she ignored him, following after Peter alongside the boy.

“Like it or not, Stiles, I’m helping you.” Zaida glanced back at Lydia’s limp form with guilt gnawing at her from the inside out. She sent out a silent prayer that Jackson would get there in time.

[atangledfate]

Listening to her speak, he rants and rambling it made him feel sick in his stomach. He didn't want this for her, he didn't want her to have to be something he knew she wasn't. No matter what she thought, or said to herself at night he didn't see her as some evil creature ready to kill because she could. There was this bright soul under all it all, hiding away beneath the green and black. He could see it, this beautiful person struggling to be free.

" Why does it have to be you!?! You have a chance to be free, to be happy! to be your own person, to choose your own path! this isn't fair to you or Kit! you made some bad choices but everyone does! I've made bad choices! Chaos i've made bad choices! people got hurt! "

he motioned with his hands toward the exit

" Amys folks are dead because of my bad choices! i don't want this to end like this! i refuse to let it end this way... I won't! you are better then this Surge! i know it, you can be so much better then this... "

For sonic it was admitting he couldn't save everyone and that tore him up inside. It was that desire to save people, that need to save everyone and yet bodies kept piling up around him! His emotions were a jumble and he couldn't do it. He couldn't just attack her, letting her fall down that well and embrace this destiny she believed she was stuck in being.

" And i'll prove it to you... because you'll have to make the right choice... one you'll have to live with. In the years to come, in the battles ahead i want you to look back and remember you did what was right... Villains, Heroes, that shits just a word... At the end of the day we are all just people struggling to survive in a shitty world that wants us gone... You and i are still standing because we are to damn stubborn to die. So i have faith you'll do what's right... "

Sonic made a choice he didn't know if it was good or bad, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't make Surge a Villain, he couldn't knock her out and let her take the fall. He couldn't condemn another soul to Prison it wasn't in him. He turned his back on Surge and walked away with his fists balled up and anger in his heart. He hated it, the thought that he failed her, that he let her fall into the darkness. That moment of vulnerability he felt and all that anger welling up inside.

People forgot, that being a hero was never a choice, its something thrust upon you.

For Sonic... he was starting to feel tired...

" Its time to choose surge... how will you be remembered... "

He said softly back at her before like thunder her ripped down the tunnel leaving Surge alone. He was forcing her to make the choice, to do what she said she would. But if she made that choice she'd do it alone, and she'd have to live with herself. He believed deep down she'd make the right choice. But to say he wasn't biting back tears at the thought of losing another friend would have been a lie.

================================================

Mimic had stopped fighting and was relying on his skill as a Thespian to get him through it. What choice did he have? He couldn't fight her directly even his SOCOM would have been useless in this situation. He'd need big guns to even hurt a wisp of this size. He knew short of Eggman's high tech scanners no one could tell him apart from those he mimic'd and this all came down to making him slip up.

" I know you just want to protect your loved ones! but that's why i'm doing this! I have to keep him away from my niece! he already hurt her... hurt my family! she's been through alot already... I refuse to let him near her! "

He bared his teeth at Rowan his tail thrashing angrily!

" Kill us both if you have to... as long as he doesn't get close to her! that's all that matters... please you have to believe me... if it was your family you'd do the same right? everything to protect them... and so will I... so please... you have to trust me... Restoration will know what o do..."

"Fucking finally, no more of that joking shit. I didn't keep hating you because of Starline, it's because I could tell you were always faking shit. And to be honest, I don't even hate you that much anymore, just strongly dislike you." Surge was already on the fence of letting her hated go of Sonic before getting her memories back. Getting them back just made it ten times easier. "Though you still don't know me. I'm done trying to act a hero or trying to be one."

"I've already screwed up too much, despite what you believe. Maybe you and your friends might give me another chance, though it's not just about you. Everyone's going to be looking for someone to blame, and I need to pay for what I've done." Surge then looked away from Sonic.

"So I'll be the bad guy. No matter how extreme the situation is, I can only say come on come on come on. I'll bear it all only so someone else doesn't have to. That's who I am, and that's the choice I'm making now. I don't expect you to understand or agree with it, though it's what I've chosen to do." The tenrec then turned back, only to lightly slap Sonic's hand away. "Can't be seen shaking hands with a villain Sonic. You're the hero, keep it that way." This was her choice, and hers alone as she turned her back away from Sonic once more. "Though it'd be a shame if I was knocked out with my back turned right now." Seemed this was her way to offer the hedgehog a way to 'stop' her.

"So, did they figure it out? I'll be honest, Mobians confuse me." The lightning Wisp was just watching, mainly out of curiosity how this would play out. "Makes me glad all us Wisp get along so well." It'd be hard to imagine Wisps fighting like Mobians do.

==========================================================

"Yeah, I'm going to vote no on the authorities until your restrained. I ain't letting you anywhere near my niece." Rowan would then laugh for a moment before the Wisp from the containers popped out of the big one. "A little warning next time. That felt weird." Guess that's one way to get the Wisp out without loosing her grip or setting him down.

"☠︎□︎ □︎■︎♏︎ ♓︎⬧︎ ♑︎□︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ♋︎■︎⍓︎⬥︎♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ◆︎■︎⧫︎♓︎●︎ ✋︎ ♐︎♓︎■︎♎︎ □︎◆︎⧫︎ ⬥︎♒︎□︎ ♒︎◆︎❒︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♍︎♒︎♓︎●︎♎︎❒︎♏︎■︎📬︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎⍓︎ ❍︎♋︎⍓︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ♌︎♏︎ ❍︎♓︎■︎♏︎📪︎ ⧫︎♒︎□︎◆︎♑︎♒︎ ✋︎ ⧫︎❒︎♏︎♋︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❍︎ ♋︎⬧︎ ⬧︎◆︎♍︎♒︎📬︎." She was only the mother of Shadow Wisps, though all mother Wisps saw all of them as their children. She didn't intend to risk the one hurting them getting away.

[house-of-slayterr]

Song Lyrics Prompts:

Am I just making this, so I have content in the future if I ever have writers block? Maybe, what about it?

"And I start to give into the sin."

"Mom, am I still young? Can I dream for a few months more?"

"Crimson and bare as I stand, yours completely."

"Miss your teeth dug in my shoulder as we rolled in early morning."

"Sweaty fingers push down on your throat. You say you like it rough, but it's hard to think I do this out of love."

"Why don't I do it for you?"

"How could a heart like yours ever love a heart like mine?"

"Can you break my legs tonight? Can you help me take away the pain?"

"I feel the way that you stare at the back of my neck, from the back of the porch while you're mowing your lawn."

"Twinkle twinkle little star, alcoholics don't get far. Unless they drink and drive, let's go for a ride!"

"My daddy's got a gun, you better run!"

"If I could begin to be half of what you think of me, I could do about anything! I could even learn how to love!"

"I always I might be bad, now I'm sure that its true. Cause I think you're so good, and I'm nothing like you."

"Look at you go! I just adore you; I wish that I knew what make you think I'm so special."

"Me and my husband, we're doing better."

"Awe home, let me come home. Home is wherever I'm with you."

"You call it crime; we call it smart family business."

"At first: when I see you cry, it makes me smile."

"You told me that you loved me by the water fountain."

"Now he's grabbing her hips, pulling her in. Kissing her lips and whispering in her ear, and she knows that she shouldn't listen."

"He talks like and angel, but he looks like me."

"Don't you know I'm a villain, every night I'm out killing. Sending everyone running like children."

"Bad little boy, that's what you're acting like. I really don't buy that you're that kind of guy. And if you are, why do you want to hang out with me?"

"So, you say, it's not ok to be gay, well I think you're just evil."

"Big girls you are beautiful."

"I don't think I can stand to be where you don't see me."

"Well, I don't want to eat the rich, I'd have to eat my hero's first."

"Some people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes."

"Closer to me baby I won't bite. You look so tasty, but I won't bite."

"I'll call you when the party's over."

"Don't let them fuck you honey, no, don't let them try."

"I'm the worst mistake your god has ever made."

"Mommy why do I feel sad? Should I give him away or feel this bad? No, don't you choke, Daddy chimed in go for the throat."

"Everything was so sweet, until you tried to kill me."

"My strait jackets custom made though!"

"Careful with me I'm volatile. Carful with me, I'm homicidal."

"Baby can you meet me tonight in detention? I can feel your blood pressure ride, fuck this tension."

"Blood still stains when the sheets are wash."

"All the good girls go to hell."

"Look at you, needing me. You know I'm not your friend without some greenery."

"You best promise to love me, and damn it you fuck me- over I will rip your fucking face apart!"

"Live fast, die young, bad girls do it well."

"Show and tell, I'm on display for all you fuckers to see!"

"Why is it so hard to see, if I cut myself, I would bleed?"

"You are my strange addiction."

"I love everything you do, when you call me fucking dumb for the stupid shit I do."

"Caught the teacher giving his eyes to a student. Pouty, pretty cute and she bit her lip back to him."

"Teacher's pet, if I'm so special why am I secret?"

"Please don't try to kiss me on the sidewalk on your cigarette break!"

"I'm not afraid anymore, what make you sure you're all I need? Forget about it!"

Might do a second part later lol, I listen to a lot of music, and this is kidna calming to make.

[chaoswithinstars]

fallen from grace [Tomioka G.]

CW: blood, biting, demon!reader, dom!reader

When you were turned into a demon, Giyuu was certain you would be like the rest of them. He had no hope and was fully prepared to take your life, to end your suffering as a bloodthirsty animal but you ran, faster and stronger because of your human blood still racing through your veins. He searched for you, interrogated other demons for years until he stopped seeing the point. Giyuu tried so hard not to think of you, pushing his memories of your time together into the furthest reaches of his mind until he met the siblings, seen the girl protect her human brother. That tiny flame of hope Giyuu tucked away in his soul became a wildfire and all thoughts of you came rushing back along with heartbreaking yearning for your gentle touch.

He started searching once again, efforts tripled until he finally found you. He found you at a lakeside, sitting on a mossy rock and humming a familiar tune. You looked like a goddess, framed by idyllic forest and the fireflies dancing in the night. You didn't change much. Your hair was longer, tips crimson, your eyes were no longer that brilliant shade you loved the most as a human but you were still all soft curves and gentle smiles. You looked at him as if he was all that you've been waiting for, like he was the one who ran away.

Giyuu has always been a good man. Silent, strong and smart, talented with a sword. He was admirable but somewhat oblivious to how other people perceived him. Not to you though. With you, he couldn't hide himself, shove back his desires and darkest thoughts. With you, Giyuu let himself sink into depravity. Maybe it was your demon nature or maybe it was because he remembered you from before- bright smiles, silver tongue and strength hidden beneath a fluffy exterior. Giyuu didn't know nor did he particularly care. Especially now that he has finally found you.

"You're beautiful." Giyuu didn't know what prompted him to break the silence nor why those were the first words to come from his mouth. He was enchanted by your appearance, by your graceful movements as you beckoned him closer. You were still humming that alluring tune, voice so lovely that it resonated somewhere deep in his soul, settling down what little urge to kill you he had.

Maybe it's your presence, that enchanting voice or the alluring scents of nature (of you) that made Giyuu drop all of his walls down. After all, most of his life has been spent in search of you and now that he found you… Why couldn't he let himself enjoy this moment of happiness, a moment so rare in the life of a demon slayer? Giyuu reached out towards you and you took Giyuu's hands in yours, pulling him closer and into your embrace. His lovely blue eyes traced each part of your face, memorizing that which he was already familiar with from a lifetime before. Giyuu was warm in your arms, sinking against your body like a doll whose strings were cut off. You smiled, lips framing your sharp teeth.

"And you're looking as tasty as ever, slayer." Your words made Giyuu's thoughts swim, disconnected. He could not think of anything else but you, making you happy, giving everything he is to you. "I've watched you, little mouse, seen you fight my kind and it made me ravenous."

Giyuu shuddered at your words and yet did nothing. He let you nuzzle his neck, lick a strip up to his jaw. You nibbled on his soft skin, tempting yourself with a taste of his flesh. And yet, Giyuu wasn't afraid. He yearned for more, for a revival of heated memories when you two were the same, when you were both human and weak, equal before the gods.

"It isn't often that a snack enters my den all by himself. Usually, there's more of you wretched humans disturbing my oasis." You speak, breath warm and tickling Giyuu's ear. Your hands pull him onto your lap, making him straddle you. Giyuu looks down at you, brain foggy from all sensations you brought on. "But you, little mouse, you're different. Makes me want to keep you like a good pet."

Giyuu allows you to pull him in for a kiss. It's hunger and fire, consuming him until he feels like nothing will be left of him. He grabs onto your shoulders, nails digging into your clothes as he struggles with himself, with the instincts urging him to rut against you, to moan and beg. Your claws slice through his clothes with ease, baring his skin to the cool air, to your own wandering hands. Giyuu gasps, ripping his mouth away from yours, out of breath. Your name echoes off the trees as you lavish his neck and chest with licks and bites, leaving marks on his pale skin. You break skin with your teeth on his chest, drawing blood. He whimpers as you lick it up then suck on the tiny wound. It's odd and dangerous but still a thrill Giyuu doesn't want to miss out on.

"What a good boy you are." It's a coo, a praise wrapped in a patronizing tone Giyuu usually hated but didn't mind now because it came from you. "Such a good snack, not struggling when I indulge a little taste."

You look into his eyes as your touches become more daring, lips still smiling even as your eyes devoured all of Giyuu's reactions. Giyuu's head fell back once you grasped his dick, fingers wrapping almost too hard around his length but a little pain was good as long as you were touching him.

"Look at me." You commanded and Giyuu obeyed immediately, eyes wide at your harsh tone. He didn't want you to be mad, to stop the movements of your hand. "What kind of a slayer are you? Wanting to fuck a demon of all things. You're messed up, aren't you? Don't worry, I won't tell, it's our little secret."

Giyuu felt his eyes tear up. It's been years since he last cried but your words struck a cord even as he felt pleasure from your hand and the tone of your voice. He felt so ashamed of himself. Indeed, what kind of a slayer was he?

"Are you going to cry, little mouse?" You laughed, hand moving faster over his dick. "I wonder what your friends would say if they could see you now. They'd probably laugh at you. Or maybe some would join me in my fun and we could all have a turn with you."

Giyuu whimpered, teeth clenched over his lips. The thoughts you put in his head were tempting, far too much for him.

"You're so close, aren't you?" You ask, knowing full well that it won't take long before Giyuu broke apart. "Don't worry, you can cum whenever you want."

Giyuu fucked into your fist, enjoying the squeeze of your fingers, every teasing pass over his leaking head, your demeaning yet arousing words. It didn't take that long for him to spill all over your hand, making a mess. A mess you happily fed to him until there was nothing left.

"On your knees, slayer." You ordered, pushing him out of your lap to his knees. Giyuu watched as you stripped, showing yourself off and he wondered what he did to deserve such a treat. Your body seemed to glow with some inner light, once again reminding Giyuu of a goddess. You were terrifying in your beauty and all Giyuu could think of was worshiping every inch of your being. "Good boy."

You sat back on your rock, straightening your left leg until your foot was on Giyuu's shoulder and he placed his trembling hand on your joint. He could feel your eyes on him as he kissed your leg, slowly moving upward until your knee was hooked over his shoulder. Giyuu looked up at you, eyes seeking permission to go further and a moan broke from him as you nodded. He dived in between your legs, arms over your thighs as he kissed then licked and sucked at all the right places of your pussy. Your taste was exquisite, like ambrosia sent down from heavens. Your scent was heady and your soft sighs like music to him.

You praised him, one hand gentle in his hair, pushing him further into you. Giyuu thought that he could die right now, with no regrets, just because he made you feel like this. You were so wet, so warm and sweet… Giyuu couldn't get enough. You cried out when his fingers, rough from sword handling, entered you, moving first slowly then faster until you were grinding against Giyuu's face, panting as you came closer to the edge. Giyuu looked up at you from between your legs, eyes focused on the ecstasy on your face. He curled his fingers inside of you, pressing against that spongy spot inside of you and your thighs locked around his head, keeping him still as you rode out your orgasm.

You hunch over him, pulling his head from between your legs, cradling his face in a gentle hold. Giyuu knows that he probably looks a mess from your arousal, face wet and red, but it was worth the sweet look in your eyes and hunger on your face. He'd let you devour him whole if only that was his last memory.

You push him down, sinking to your knees and straddling his hips. Your hands caress his chest, fingers curling and your claws leave red lines on his skin. Another mark Giyuu would be happy to carry on into his next life. He's out of words and breath when you sink onto him, taking him to the deepest reaches of your body and all he can do is hold onto your hips as you ride him hard and fast. Giyuu knows that you're just using him, that he should be happy that you gave him the honour of feeling your wet heat grip his dick, clench around him.

"Thank you, thank you…" The words tumble out of his mouth, unbidden but truthful. He cums when you laugh at him, when your clawed hand wraps around his throat, squeezing ever so lightly.

You continued riding him, drawing tears from his pretty eyes from overstimulation. You ride him until you've milked him dry and got your fill of ecstasy. A growl rips from somewhere deep in your chest as you cum, grinding down on him to get those little aftershocks of pleasure. Your hand moves from Giyuu's throat, fingers chasing sweat drops on his chest. You lie down on top of him, humming that same tune from before.

Giyuu doesn't particularly care that your teeth are close to his jugular, that you're splitting open his skin to lick up his blood. All he knows and wants is to stay with you, surrounded by your warmth.

"Poor little slayer." You murmur into Giyuu's ear, voice filled with pity and something else Giyuu cannot comprehend. "So many desires unspoken, so many wishes not coming through. Do not worry, I'll take care of you."

The slayer never noticed the miasma descending around you two, just closed his eyes as you sang him to sleep. He looked like a doll as you picked him up, body limp as you carried him up into the trees. You set him up among many other humans in your den but took special care to preserve him.

"My little mouse." You purred, caressing Giyuu's face, tracing his lips. "I'll be good to you, no one will ever find you or hurt you here."

[ghost-ghost-baby]

I’ll put a spell on you (Yandere!Omega!Izuku x alpha!Reader)

inspo was strange and beautiful (I’ll put a spell on you) by aqualung

a/n: boy oh boy,,,, this one is uh,,, 2k words,,,,

Summary: You were taking too long! What could Izuku do except find a spell to help speed things along? 

Or 

You and Izuku have been roommates for years, but you’re convinced he doesn’t like you and he’s determined to make you his.

warnings: big yandere themes,,, omegaverse obvi,,,, kinda drugging??? idk,,,, its a love spell but reader is already very in love w izuku just stupid aye,,,, very very mild nsfw themes,,,, cuts out b4 it gets too graphic, swearing, bonding, you get the picture,

“Seriously, Katsuki, you’ve gotten way too confident over the years. Was it because you needed a reminder of what it’s like to lose?” Your eyes scanned the blonde, eyebrow quirked as he struggled, “I can’t believe Shinso was right.” It was easy to block out the screams, your quirk always came in handy, even if it was just to shut him up, Rubbing your hands on your pants you turned around, eyes landing on the only other person. 

“Oh, good luck Midoriya!” You grinned, giving a small wave before you ran off.

You saw more of Izuku after that, the omega always seemed to be upgrading his costume, and Hatsume had almost killed you when he’d asked you to help with the designs. It was hard not to get close to the guy, and you’d tried your best! You didn’t have time for… for people! You needed to focus on your inventions. But Izuku was persistent, and you’d soon found yourself sitting with him and his friends at lunch. You weren’t the only alpha of the group, Iida and Todoroki shared your dynamic, a fact that didn’t seem to bother anyone. You were glad, you’d never really cared about dynamics, it was nice to be around people who shared that sentiment. You’d all graduated now, and surprisingly you and Izuku ended up sharing an apartment, you did work in the same area, it made sense at the time. 

“Are we still having dinner tonight?” Izuku peered into the bathroom, slight frown on his features as he observed you getting ready. 

“Yeah of course man, it’s just a lunch date so I’ll be back early.” You shrugged, using your quirk to bring your jacket over. 

“You could just ask me to get you your jacket.” Izuku shook his head, watching as the clothing floated over, bubble popping as your hand made contact.

“I know, it’s just a habit, I’ve always used it for little things.” You smiled as you put your jacket on, ruffling Izuku’s hair as you walked past. He was always fussing over you, or cooking, asking if you needed anything. It was cute, but you’d die before you admitted it. 

“I’ll be back before you know it, text me if you need anything.” You absentmindedly pressed a kiss to Izuku’s hair, waving before the door shut behind you.

“And you’re sure this’ll work?” Izuku frowned as he flipped the bottle in his fingers, it seemed too good to be true.

“Just like the label says, omega, it’ll make anyone fall in love with ya! As long as there’s already a spark, of course! And it could trigger… their time of the month. So watch out for that!” The lady smiled at him, dark purple hair framing her face. Her eyes matched, although the purple was much, much brighter, and almost seemed to glow. Izuku nodded, grabbing the cash out of his wallet and quickly passing it over before he said goodbye. He didn’t want to be caught there, what would the press say? What would you say? 

You ended up getting home late, much, much later than you planned. You’d run into friends on the way home, you hadn’t seen them in ages and well… you’d never been good at saying no. You’d texted Izuku, but he hadn’t responded, and maybe you’d stayed out later to avoid his wrath. 

“God, I’m gonna have to do something to make up for this… something good.” You mumbled as you walked into your apartment, hands running through your hair as you looked around. 

“Izuku? Honey I’m home!” You called, trying to lighten the tension you felt in the room. It didn’t work, and your heart was in your throat as you put your bag down. You hated disappointing people, and Izuku was always so good to you. 

“There’s leftovers in the fridge if you want anything.”

“”Oh actually I’m uh… not hungry…” You trailed off as you walked into the kitchen, Izuku turning around from making something to look at you. 

“Did you eat while you were out?” You must be crazy, there’s no way that was an edge to his voice.

“No actually! I just haven’t had any appetite lately.” 

“You know you need to try and eat even when you have no appetite. I made tea.” Just like that his voice was back to it’s usual tone, and he sat down in front of you, pushing a mug towards you. 

“Yeah I know. Thank you Izuku, you’re always so good to me. I’m so sorry about missing dinner but I ran into my friends coming home and they dragged me out and I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay Y/n, we can have dinner tomorrow, just finish your tea and we’ll get you into bed, okay?” 

You were too drunk to disagree. 

You felt weird when you woke up. You weren’t hungover, but something was wrong. Was Izuku okay? Wait, why were you- you should make sure he’s okay. You were only in a shirt, you didn't remember changing last night, did Izuku help you? You barely remembered anything after you’d come home, you’d just talked, drank the tea, and then it was blank. The tea had been really good, it was weirdly sweet though, you had to admit. 

“Izuku? Are you awake?” You padded into the kitchen, squinting at how bright it was. 

“Of course, it’s already two, I didn’t want to wake you up.” You sighed when Izuku was there, safe and happy as he always was. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m just… hungover or something.” You slid into a chair, eyes trained on the omega as he pushed a banana and some water in front of you. “They’re good for hangovers.” 

“Thanks ‘Zu” 

“You’re going out?” You couldn’t keep the surprise from your voice, Izuku rarely went out unless he was working. 

“Yeah just a work thing! I’ll be back in no time!” The omega came over to where you were on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket because you still felt off. “Unless you need me to stay?”

“No of course not! I’ll be fine, it’s probably just a bug.” You did your best to smile, letting your friend hug you. He was about to pull away when you let your cheek brush against his scent gland, the action making you blush while Izuku smiled.

“I’ll see you when I get back!” 

This was awful, you’d been tortured, kidnapped, forced to deal with Katsuki, but this was far worse. You couldn’t explain it, but as soon as Izuku was out of your sight your anxiety had skyrocketed, and as much as you tried to fight it, you were pacing in front of the door. He should be back by now, or he should have texted! What if he’d gotten hurt, he didn’t tell you who he was going out with, what if- 

“Yeah Todoroki I’m okay, he was worse off than me anyway!” Your heart soared at Izuku’s voice and you were wrenching the door open without a second thought. A snarl ripped out of you when you took in your omega, sporting a few grazes and a bruised jaw that had not been there when he left. 

“What the fuck happened?” Your tone didn’t even sound like you, you sounded feral. Your hands quickly reached out, pulling Izuku into a hug and growling when Todoroki tried to say something. “You can leave, I’ve got him now.” 

Straight to your room was where you headed, gently sitting Izuku on the bed before you grabbed your first aid kit. Thank god it was only light injuries, you didn’t know what you’d do if something worse had happened. 

“Who did this?” 

“Just some random alpha tryna get too handsy, he’s in far worse shape than- are you okay?” Izuku’s tone turned concerned as you let out another growl, halfway through bandaging his hand. You couldn’t speak, you just needed to focus on this and- huh? Izuku was running his fingers through your hair, the action almost made you purr, surprisingly calming you down enough to finish patching him up. 

“I should have gone with you, I should have-” “Hey, Y/n, you couldn’t have done anything, it’s okay.” Izuku pulled you up to his level and you nodded, unable to stop how your hands shook. Izuku was so close, and he smelled so good, you just wanted to-

“Did you just lick me?” Izuku looked at you with wide eyes, only now taking in how lidded your own eyes were. A low growl bubbled up before you could stop it, and you were pushing the omega down on the bed and straddling him without a second thought. This had happened because of you. If you’d claimed Izuku sooner people would know he was yours, and he wouldn’t have to defend himself. Your teeth were an inch from Izuku’s neck when you pulled back, hand coming up to cover your mouth.

“I-I’m so sorry, I don’t know what-” 

“I don’t want you to stop, please Y/n.” Izuku’s cheeks were tinged pink, and god why’d you have to sit right on his hips? You could already feel him getting hard.

“Oh god, did I send you into heat? Fuck I’m sorry, I’ve been on suppressants I didn’t real-” You started, it was taking everything you had not to lose it. Izuku looked so pretty, pupils blown out and cheeks already flushed. Why hadn’t you done this sooner? Fuck. You slowly leant down, willpower decreasing by the second, and then your lips were on his. A whimper left you at how good he tasted, you’d never tasted anything this good before! You wanted more! Izuku was made for you, this only proved it. You loved him so much. 

Why did your neck hurt so bad? The last thing you remembered was Izuku being injured and you patching him up. A whine made you open your eyes, disbelief shooting through you when you saw Izuku. He was covered in scratches and bites, only wearing your shirt, and sporting a bright red bite on his scent gland. Oh fuck, panic set in as you sat up. This was bad, even for you. You'd done it now, he'd want nothing to do with you. God what had happened to you last night? You were always in control, and as memories of how Izuku had sounded the night before wormed into your brain you couldn't stop your whole body flushing. The omega let out another whine, snuggling closer to your side as if he could sense how stressed you were. Well, he probably could now, the two of you were bonded. You'd completely ruined his life with your selfishness, bonds were incredibly hard to break and the pair would never be the same again. But you couldn't make him stay with you. Oh he'd want to move out wouldn't he? How could he not? You'd completely betrayed his trust and acted like every asshole alpha you hated so much. You should move too, maybe to America? Somewhere far away where you wouldn't bother anyone. Warmth stung your eyes and you realised you'd been crying, how much more pathetic could you get? Izuku was the one who should be upset! You'd ruined his life! Arms wrapped around you as you let out a sob, immediately trying to push the omega away, maybe you should just kill yourself and sever the bond like that- Then at least he’d be able to find someone he actually wanted to be with. 

“Alpha… why’re you upset…?” Izuku yawned as he sat up, and you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, or look at him. The worry you could sense through the bond made your stomach turn, you didn’t deserve his concern! You were horrible, you were-

“Alpha, c’mon, look at me… please?” Izuku’s voice broke and you turned to look at him, eyes zoning in on the mark you’d left on his neck. 

“I’m sorry- I triggered your heat and- and betrayed your-”

“Y/n, I love you, I wanted this, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Izuku cooed, pulling your head to his chest and running his hands through your hair like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was like a weight lifted off of your chest, like all the puzzle pieces fit together, he was all you’d ever need.

“I love you too, Izuku.”

[hxckedvxid]

Roxy hands over the baton, barely hearing Felix. His words are background noise, blending in with the sirens, the static hum in her head, the pulse of rage so thick it drowns out everything else. She's burning, shaking from it, every muscle coiled tight, teeth clenched like if she opens her mouth too wide she might start screaming. Her body is wound up, ready to go somewhere, to rip something apart, but there's nowhere to go. Nothing to rip.

The red and blue lights flash against her skin, a strobe of you need to run, but she doesn't care. Doesn't even register it. She just keeps walking, marching, a warpath with no end in sight. Her eyes flick to Felix, and she nods. Just once. "Sure." the word is clipped, tossed out like an afterthought. She's already picturing it, turning up on Rooks again. Digging her nails into his face. Biting down. Tearing off a piece of him with her fucking teeth if she has to. "If he doesn't know anything, I'm gonna fucking kill him." it's not an exaggeration, not an empty threat. It's a promise, a bone deep certainty, and she knows that even next week, even a month from now, she's still going to mean it.

But then Felix is pulling her, cutting her momentum off with a tug toward the smaller alleyway, and she goes easily, like some part of her wanted him to. And the second he's holding her face, thumb pressing near the cut on her jaw, everything in her locks up. A sharp inhale, teeth pressing into her tongue. The burn of the cut stings, but it's not the pain that gets her, it's him. Felix is cold water over third degree burns. Soothing something inside her that she refuses to acknowledge exists. She's still shaking, wired, ready to snap, but the second his thumb skims over the wound, it hits her like a reset button. Just enough. Just a breath.

She still remembers the first time he touched her like this. Not like she was fragile, not like she needed to be handled carefully, but with something like worship. Like he fucking knew, like he got it. Like he could look her in the face and say yeah, laugh at the blood, Roxy, but I won't let you fucking bleed out. Her Felix. She doesn't believe in overly sentimental shit. Would never say Felix sees her differently than anyone else. She thinks she makes it pretty fucking clear, what you see is what you get. And Felix sees the exact same thing as everyone else. He just loves it anyway.

Still, there's this part of her, deep and hidden and feral, that he can fucking see. Maybe even before she could. That part of her is what watches him now, watches him as he wipes away the blood, leans closer as his lips press to her forehead. The part that grips his arms, holds on, like he's the only thing keeping her upright. The anger doesn't go anywhere. It doesn't disappear, doesn't settle. It just twists into something hungrier, sharpens, focuses. Love, love, love, love. The kind that ruins. The kind that shreds. The kind that eats people whole. She used to think it was stupid. Before him.

Roxy nods at the reminder that this isn't the end, that she will get what she wants, Dom will get what they want. "It'll be so fucking slow, Felix." the words are low, quiet, but there's venom in them, a sharp, rattling promise. "Exactly the same fucking way he did it." an eye for a fucking eye. But not tonight. The sirens get closer, the voices in the distance sharpen. So she moves, fingers gripping through Felix's. Mine. Love. Love. Mine. Love. Love. Love. She yanks him with her toward the alley's edge. A quick scramble over the lower back wall and just like that they're gone like they were never even fucking there. But the anger always stays.

END.

There it was. The brick wall. Felix saw the moment of impact. The exact second Roxy slammed into it, full force. He saw that flicker of mayhem behind her eyes freeze over, the way it all crashed through her at once. Fury, rage, something seething, something vicious, something evil carving itself into the sharp edges of her features. Shit. And not shit for any reason other than this, he wanted to keep her dark thrill alive. That thing she fed off, the high she rode so fucking recklessly. He wanted to see her cackle with revenge, wanted to see her shine in it, howling at the night like she had finally, finally gotten what she fucking deserved. But that wasn't what happened.

So Felix just kept his grip tight on Rooks, fingers digging into fabric and skin, watching as Roxy snarled in his face and bounced back the best way she knew how. Not satisfied, but adapting. Pressuring him, scaring him, making sure this wasn't over. Clever. Clever enough to make Felix's smirk flicker with something close to pride for just a second. But it still wasn't what she really wanted.

The second she was done, Felix flung Rooks toward the opposite wall, just enough pressure on his already fucked shoulder to make the point clear. "Well, she didn't bite you." he muttered, watching him crumple. "So, you got lucky." he barely spared Rooks another look before he was already turning, following after Roxy because fuck, he could feel it. The rage rolling off her, heat boiling in her wake, doors kicked open as the cooler night air rushed in like the fucking universe itself was trying to soothe her.

Felix said nothing, just fell into step beside her, and before she could snap, his eyes flicked down, catching hers. He shook his head just once, cutting her off before she could even start. "I wasn't going to say anything." his hand moved without thinking, plucking the baton from her grip like it was his, because it was, collapsing it down with a quick flick and hooking it back onto his belt.

Sirens. Closer now. Red and blue flashing against the alley walls, painting everything in police lights. Felix wasn't worried. They were already halfway to being gone. Lost. Ghosts in the city again. "We can come back in a few weeks," he said, voice low. "He might've figured something out by then." but even as he spoke, Felix slowed his stride, his fingers curling gently around Roxy's arm, guiding them down a smaller alleyway, out of sight. His grip wasn't tight, it was just enough to let her know he wasn't done with her yet. He leaned in slightly, his head tilting just so, his gaze sweeping over the cut on her jaw. Small. Not deep. Roxy might not care about it. But he did.

Felix let out a quiet breath through his nose, hand on her chin, tilting her just slightly, thumb brushing the edge of the cut. He knew she was watching him, waiting for him to say something. But he didn't. Just a quiet huff as he wiped at the blood with his sleeve. Then, just as quickly, he tilted in. A firm kiss pressed to her forehead. Simple and quick. He wasn't stupid enough to ask if she was okay, so he didn't. He just met her gaze when he pulled back and he nodded slightly. "It'll happen. You'll get Grim." should he have been encouraging that hope? Maybe not. But what else was he going to do? Stare into those manic blue eyes and tell her she was chasing nothing? Fuck that.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

More Than Just Survive

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader

Word count: 1.2 K

Requested by @petrified-teeth : hey, i have a request if you’re still doing walking dead requests!! a daryl x reader set during either season one or two, hes pining after the reader and when he sees them playing with carl, maybe giving him a piggyback ride or something, he gets really flustered thinking about him and the reader raising their own kids??? only if you want to!!

Summary: Daryl sees you playing with Carl and he suddenly realizes he wants kids. With you.

{The Walking Dead Masterlist}

×

Daryl never thought he could fall in love. He didn't even know the feeling. But it hit him like a train the moment he saw her.

(Y/N) was flustered when he stumbled on her in the woods, running from the city. Ripped clothes, messy hair, and heart racing. Daryl was a bit rude at first, taken aback by how beautiful she was. He met many women, but nobody claimed he hears like this, from the very first moment. From the very first sight.

And he lost his mind from that moment on.

Her safety was his priority. Keeping her feed and warm and dressed. She became his whole world.

Daryl was happy to find the farm. He didn't agree with Hershel's methods, and he didn't like all the new people around him. But it was better than staying on the road, and when winter comes, she'll have a warm place to sleep. And that's what matters.

“Whoa. Nice hunt.” She says, eyes set on him. The deer he shot was heavy on his shoulders, but he was glad for the huge amount of meat he provided. That he provided to her. “What about some more lessons later today?”

“I'll teach ya ta’ clean it. C'mon.” He says, tilting his head to the open area East of the house where he set his camp. And where you set yours, despite the offer of a room in the house. Daryl tried to convince her, but she's too much of a hothead to accept it. He didn't want to admit it, and he never will, but he rather has her close by. Daryl sleeps better knowing she's in the tent right next to him, only a couple of feet away.

“I have to help Carl with homework. Give me ten minutes.” She says with a bright smile, and Daryl's heart starts beating so fast he thinks he might die.

Can someone die from love? Because if that's possible, Daryl knows he's damned.

“Fine. Hurry up.” He grunts, walking past her.

(Y/N) gives him an eye roll and a giggle. She sees right past him and he's fake anger. She knows him, maybe too well.

Daryl goes to his camp, dropping the deer and cleaning himself the best as he can. Everyone gets to shower once a day, and so does he. For her. He even cleans under his nails once a day.

Ten minutes pass by quickly, and then another ten, and (Y/N) still hasn't come. So Daryl makes his way to the wooden table under the three, where Carl usually sits to study. And there's where she is, but instead of peacefully sitting down, she's has Carl hanging on her back, a burst of laughter flowing out her lips.

“You're too heavy, kiddo!” She laughs, stumbling a little before standing up straight. “Jump off!”

“Let's see how many squats with me on your back!” Carl yells, swinging his legs. “C'mon!”

“I'm so gonna drop you off.” She says, grabbing his thighs and bouncing him up. “Ready?”

“Born ready.” He nods and she starts, crouching down over and over again, laughing, making silly comments with Carl.

(Y/N) would be a good mother. This thought comes to him suddenly, and at the same time, another acknowledgment.

Daryl Dixon never thought about having kids until this very moment. And it's a weird feeling. His father was a devil, but he will make it different. He will be different.

He and (Y/N) have this unlabeled relationship. Always around each other, talking, hugging. (Y/N) takes every chance she has to lay her head on his shoulder. At least once a day. And Daryl feels like his heart is trying to jump off his chest.

“Five! Six!” Carl counts as she laughs and squats.

“I can't anymore, kiddo. Drop off.” She complains, and Carl jumps to the ground. “My back hurts now.”

“(Y/N),” Daryl calls, gesturing for her to come when she looks at him. “C'mon.”

“Bye, kiddo.” She says, messing with Carl's hair.

Daryl patiently waits until she reaches him before he starts walking again. She smells good, like the strawberry shampoo he got her a while ago. She gives him a stare, a smile, and a wink, grabbing his arm and keeping the slow pace.

He doesn't care if the world ended. He knows he wants a family. And he wants it with her.

“I don't wanna do that!” You say the moment Daryl opens up the deer. “I can kill it but I can't do that.”

“Ya gotta learn. What if yer out there alone?”

“That's easy to fix.” Sitting on the three logs you keep near the tent you cross your legs, eyes set on Daryl despite the rather disgusting task he's into.

“How?” He grunts, blue eyes giving you a curious glance.

“We'll never be apart.” Shrugging your shoulders, you giggle at the eye roll. “What? We haven't been apart ever since we met, D. And I don't want to be apart from you. Never.”

“Did ya ever think about havin’ kids?” The question comes out of nowhere, and it takes you by surprise. “Ya get along with Carl jus’ fine. Thought ya'd be a good mom.”

Biting your lip, you silently stare at him for a while. “Yeah. I always wanted to have kids. I still do.” Blushing a little, you look down at your hands. “But it's... It's really hard to find a Daryl who could be the father.” The words come out a little too low, but by the awkward silence, you know he heard you. “I-I mean–”

“Nobody would want ta’ have a child with me, (Y/N).” He mutters, and when you look up at him again, he's focused on his task, peeling the skin off the deer.

“If you have the balls to propose, Daryl Dixon, we might start working on that right away.” You try to keep the sassy tone, but your whole body burns. It's not a secret you love Daryl. And it's not a secret he loves you.

“Yer jokin’.”

“M’ not.” Giggling, you put a strand of hair behind your ear. “I'm not.”

“Huh.” He mumbles, eyes burning through you. “We can talk about that when I'm done here.” Daryl's voice is low and raspy, and you can see a reddish color on his neck. “Gotta get this ready ta’ feed the group.”

“Mhmm.” You nod, smiling.

This wasn't how you expected your day to end, with talkings about kids and marriage. But the world ended, and the least you can do is try to be happy. Nothing is easy, nothing is simple, but you want more than just survive. You want to live.

And you want Daryl to be part of that.

[axwalker]

CREEP 4: I wish I was special

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC  (Lexie O’Brien) Book TRR

MASTERLIST

Synopsis: Drake is a hurt, angry teenager. After being rejected by Lexie, he spends two years bullying her until he discovers the horrible truth behind her rejection.

In this chapter: Lexie and Drake spend a lot of time together. I’ve have to be honest this is a filler chapter with a bit a lot of smut 🤷🏽‍♀️

A/N: Drake’s and Lexie’s POV. 

Words: 4,470

WARNINGS: SMUT! Parental abuse, domestic violence, toxic love, abuse, bullying.

THIS IS NOT YOUR USUAL MARSHMALLOW DRAKE. He was abandoned as a boy, he’s tortured and he doesn’t know how to express love.

This is a dark love story. If you think this might trigger you, PLEASE do not read it.  

ALL MY FICS ARE 18+

TAGS ON THE COMMENTS –As this is darker than usual; I’m only tagging the people who commented in the previous chapters. If you want to get on or off the list for this fic; please do not hesitate to ask!!

Drake 

I can’t believe I’m here. I can’t believe I’m holding Lexie in my arms, and this is happening. 

Damn. She tastes even better than I imagined. Soft lips, the flavor of cherries and mint and something singularly Lexie. So, fucking sweet. Her innocent tongue is hesitant at first to play with mine, making her surrender even more satisfying. She’s been the center of my world for years. She’s everything I crave, and I didn’t know how to handle the rejection of the only person who matters to me. I know that’s not an excuse; I know that I don’t fucking deserve her. Hell, if I were a better man, a man that wasn’t starving for her, I’d live her alone.  

She makes me stumble into the bed- when her thighs tighten around me, and she allows me inside her perfect little mouth with hot strokes of my tongue, my hands aching over the softness of her hair, her cheeks, absorbing her unique textures with my palms. 

Get yourself out of my system. My heart has just awakened again, and it breaks painfully; when I think about her words, I make a pitiful sound into the kiss. Ah God. The best night of my life could be the night Lexie cuts me off for good, and I don’t know how to stop it from happening. She’s attracted to me, but I’ve hurt her too badly to contemplate a future. A man with more self-control, maybe an older one, might stop this now. Demand to talk, to explain to her I’ve loved her for so long and so fucking deep that I can’t see straight. That I let my insecurity act on my name. But right now, I can do nothing but soak up every inch, take as much as I can before she wants me gone. I let her mouth go momentarily, kissing down her jawline to her neck, trying to memorize exactly how she smells, how she tastes in every single part of her. How she sounds when she moans brokenly when she shifts her pussy against my lap. Then does it again. 

“Feels good,” she whispers, her voice barely loud enough to hear above the storm. “Drake.” 

I want to give her a first time she’ll think about every hour for the rest of her life, but I’m… I’m quickly recognizing my inexperience. I’m not as practiced at sex as she thinks. Only one girl before I met her. After seeing those deep brown eyes, no one else would do it for me. But I have been fucking starving for it for years. With this girl. So when she rubs against my cock and whispers, “feels good,” I almost come against in my jeans. 

I have to force myself not to grip her butt cheeks and grind her down while I thrust up, giving myself enough friction to finish. Christ, don’t finish. Please. I’ve been blessed with an opportunity I don’t deserve. A night with Lexie. A chance to make her first time perfect—and that’s what I’m going to do, even if it kills me. 

A thunder rumbles in the sky outside as she makes urgent, breathy noises, her fingers grabbing my T-shirt. She strips it off over my head, her palms slowly brushing the shape of my chest up to my arms, leaning in to kiss the hollow of my throat, the underside of my chin. Heat burns me from the inside, growing hotter with every touch of those lips on my body—and no, no, no, I can never live without her. I’ll fade and die without her touch. Get into her system, not out of it. Get deeper. So deep she can’t take me out. As deep as she is inside me. I know she’ll never love me as I do her, but I need her anyway. With those directions clear and loud in the back of my head, I move toward the bed and drop down to my knees, gently laying Lexie on her back, kissing her incredible mouth while my fingers fumble with the button and zipper of her jeans. I’m touching Lexie’s pussy through denim, and again, I want her so fucking badly, I’m worried I’m going to ruin everything, but I grit my teeth and start to slide the jeans down her legs. As soon as the soft, soft flesh of her thighs is revealed, I tilt my face up and shut my eyes closed. God, oh God. 

“What’s wrong?” she whispers, lifting her hips so I can remove the pants. “You’re so beautiful; I’m trying not to come just looking at you,” I groan, tossing her jeans aside, taking several deep breaths to get myself under control, before giving in to the overwhelming temptation to see Lexie in panties. No amount of imagination could have done her justice. The shy inward turn of her left knee, the light blue panties that rapidly become see-through, thanks to how wet she is. The slit of her sex. My senses are overloaded, my breathing uneven.

Then she blushes and bites her lip, and I understand that she’s as nervous as I am. Probably more. Fuck, this is not about me. This is about the beautiful, sweet girl underneath me. I take a moment to look at her face; her eyes are shining, her cheeks pink, her mouth is swollen from being kissed. I’m an eighteen-year-old man who –for three years, has only climaxed from jerking off, and because of that, my instinct now is to take my cock out and come all over the goddess in front of me. I’ll come so hard. All over her. But this is more than sex. I’m being allowed sex with the girl of my dreams. My dick is in disbelief, painfully hard and dripping with pre-come in my boxers, begging to come inside of her, instead of out. And Lexie…her eyes are locked on it in wonder, lips in an O shape. I’m going to be looking at that beautiful face when she takes my cock inside of her, feeling me move, stealing her innocence. Jesus. How am I going to last? 

“Lexie,” I groan through my teeth, trying to explain with that single word how fucking horny she makes me. She’s still staring at the bulge in my jeans. 

“Am I…should I…” I’ve never heard her with that husky tone of voice before. “Does it go in my mouth first?” 

I shudder so hard, my jaw almost breaks. “Christ, don’t say that, baby. Fuck.” I’m a beast right now, ripping down my zipper and shoving my hand inside, beating off the raw length of my dick, my eyes traveling from her face, to her tits, to her pussy. Then circling back and starting at the beginning,  telling her how fucking gorgeous she is. A fucking goddess. And Lexie seems to sense my desperation and overcome her shyness because she takes down her panties and kicks them away, baring herself to me. Ironically, when I should ultimately explode because the vision she creates is such perfection, I’m determined with purpose instead. With responsibility. As soon as her pussy is out, all I can think about is tasting it, giving her an orgasm and my own sexual pain takes an immediate back seat, my jerking hand slowing in the lap of my jeans. The sight of Lexie’s body hypnotizes me. 

“Can I touch you?” She nods shyly but eagerly, holding her breath. I hold mine, too, my palms gently grazing up her inner thighs and pushing them apart, spreading the pink slit between her legs, revealing the secrets I need to learn or I’ll die unsatisfied. “Tell me when I do something that feels good.” 

Slowly, I trace a thumb down the split of her pussy and her back arches, her gasp is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. “There,” I say in a rush, finally exhaling, tracing the edges of the nub that made her eyes roll back in her head. “Can I lick you here, baby?” Her hands fly to the mattress, fingers digging into the blanket. 

“Yes.” 

Fuck. I get to give her head. I’m down on my stomach in a heartbeat, rubbing my nose through her slick folds, inhaling Lexie, something peachy, gently dragging my tongue side to side over that little button. The sight of it makes my cock pound, my tongue licking toward it automatically, on reflex…and Lexie loses her fucking mind. A sexy sound fills my ears, her fingers sinking into my hair, pulling me closer. It’s like winning a gold medal at the Olympics. Knowing I found the exact spot that could get that reaction out of my girl has almost made me come right then. My tongue is worshipping her until I’m devouring her, doubting between French kissing her wet little pussy and teasing that perfect spot, her cries making the sweetest music in my ears. 

“Drake. Drake. Don’t stop. Don’t. Please, please, please.”

 When she comes, I swear to God, the taste of her is so sweet, so incredible, I go a little insane.

“I-I’m ready, Drake. Please.”

Despite how fucking bad I want her, I must make sure she wants this. I take a deep breath to calm my fucking dick, then I bend down to kiss her cute little nose and ask her, “Are you sure about this?”

She nods “Yes. God, yes.” 

“I don’t have a condom. I don’t—” 

“I’m on the pill. I went to the doctor myself to regulate my periods. Are you --uhm clean?” 

I’ve only been with one girl three years ago, and we were safe. “I am.” 

“Then I’m sure, Drake. Please, I want you so badly.” 

With a choked sound, I take hold of my cock and press it to her center, my life flashing in front of my eyes when I slide in a single inch and her wet pussy clenches around me like a fist. “Oh. Fuck.” I drop my face into her neck, raking my teeth against it, my hips burning with the need to thrust. Claim. Pound her into the ground.

“Are you okay, baby?” Fuck, her eyes are shut, a painful expression in her innocent face.

“I just need a moment, Drake.”

“I’ll give you anything you need, baby.” I don’t need to think about anything to distract myself. The mere fact of knowing she’s hurting is more than enough to sober me up. I cage her head in my arms and kiss her softly. I look her in the eyes, and there’s something in her eyes I’ve never seen before. Trust. 

 “I lied to you, Lexie. I’ve only been with one person like this. But that was before you. Since then, I’ve never wanted to touch anyone but you. Never been hard for anything but this…” I feel her adjusting to me, so I force in another inch. It feels better than I could’ve ever imagined. “This sweet little pussy.” I search Lexie’s flushed face and find her looking at me in wonder, surprise. 

“You…waited for me.” she whispers. 

My nod is jerky, teeth clenched. “You really haven’t figured it out yet? You can’t tell I’m obsessed with you?” I drop hard kisses all over her face, her hair, her neck. “You can’t tell I would murder, lie and steal just to have you look at me?” Her breath comes in tight pants, brown eyes glazed. 

 “I need more. You’ve been hiding from me for two years, acting like someone else. But this…this is honest. I-I want to feel it.” 

“Soon. Soon. Just let me get myself under control.” 

“Please, Drake.” Her expression is enthralled, imploring. “Fall apart.” 

I “Lexie, please. I don’t want to hurt you, baby. I want to make it perfect for you.” 

She gives me one of those smiles I craved so much, and catching her bottom lip between her teeth, she reaches down and sinks her fingernails into my ass, yanking me close and impaling herself on my rigid cock. Fuck, I want to be gentle with her, I need to but damn if she’s not making it difficult. I bury myself to the hilt, and she gasps 

 “Hurts,” she says. “You’re too big. It’s too big.” 

“What?” I struggle for awareness, my eyes unfocused as I search her face. 

“Too big…” “It hurts.” Horror hits me. I’m hurting Lexie. My Lexie. Fuck no. “No, I’ll stop.” 

“No.” She tightens her legs around my hips. “Just go slow.” 

I kiss her front. “I’ll go as slow as you need me to.” My eyes focus on her pretty face. She’s so perfectly delicate. “You’re sure, baby?”

“Yes.” She kisses my mouth to reassure me, and I groan, melting at her touch, gently rolling in and out of her. It’s a painful effort to keep the slow pace, but I want her to enjoy this. I stop for a few seconds, and I search her face. If she’s still in pain, I’ll pull out of her no matter what she says. But her lips are parted, and she seems to be getting there with me, so I continue to thrust, rhythmic and measured, our eyes hot on one another.  Her tight little pussy is making me insane. 

 “You’ve been driving me crazy,” I growl, kissing her neck. “The smell of you in class. The shape of your neck and hips and that perfect hair moving in front of me. Perfect, so perfect, so mine. And you wouldn’t even give me your eyes. It broke me. But you’ve always been mine, no matter what, huh? Nothing can change that.” I lick her neck, her throat, her mouth. I move a little faster and she cries of pleasure. “Be mine, Lexie.” 

I put my hand between us and touched her at the same spot I did when I kissed her sex. Her reaction is immediate. 

“Oh god, Drake. Just there. This is—God.”

She cries one last time, and I can feel her pleasure squeezing my cock as she comes.

An invisible string is cut when I’m finally down the other side of my peak, my heaving body collapsing on top of Lexie’s. “Lexie?” I kiss her forehead, her cheeks. “I’m… God. Are you okay?” 

Her nod gets my blood running again. 

“It finally happened,” I say, almost hoping she didn’t hear me.

“What did?”

“My fantasy came true.”

The smile she gives me is almost shy. And somehow, that’s the best part of our perfect night. 

 Lexie 

Over the years, my mother’s voice has started to fade from my head, but I can remember her saying, “Santo Dios,” when something interested her. Or made her sit up and take notice. And watching the muscles of Drake’s back move in the darkness, I mouth those words to myself. Santo Dios. After we… After what happened … I don’t know what to call what we did. I’m scared to call it “making love.” “Sex” sounds too shallow for something so intense. “Fucking” sounds too crude, too impersonal, when what passed between us couldn’t have been more personal. 

All this time, I pictured Drake meeting girls on the weekends, forgetting all about me in a quest for momentary bliss. But that wasn’t the case at all. He’s been…he waited. He waited for me. When making that confession, the raw honesty in his eyes left absolutely no doubt that he…feels something for me. Quite a lot, if I can believe what a man says in the heat of the moment. None of what Drake said felt like bullshit, though. Or a man telling a woman what she wants to hear. It was as if he’d been holding it in and pleasure broke the dam of secrets, making his walls collapsed all around me.  Leaving me with the ruins of all this new knowledge. 

I sit on the back porch of the cabin, arms wrapped around my knees, watching Drake connect the generator so we can have light. Thanks to the storm, the electricity isn’t working. Now, shirtless, he works on his knees in front of the machine, a frown of focus between his dark brows. Every minute or so, he stops working to glance over at me, his throat bobbing, his eyes watchful and hungry, the outline of his erection back to pressing against the front of his jeans. My newfound feminine vibrates, demands attention. I was too tired to put my pants back on, so I’m dressed in panties and a T-shirt. My lack of clothing feels forbidden, as does being alone at a cabin with a boy. For the whole night. And I don’t know what to do about the desire he’s fueled inside of me. I don’t know what to do with the excitement of knowing we’re both new –or almost, at exploring the bodies of the opposite sex…and all the ways we could do it now. Inside the cabin. Alone. No one to hear us, judge us, see us. No getting in trouble. Nothing holding us back. Except for what he did to me for two bitterly long years. Except for the fact that I need to get far away from here, from my father, and it won’t do me any  good to get attached to this magnetic boy.

There can only be one night. I need to make a fresh start. I need to cut myself clean off from everything that has made me feel sad and broken in the past—and whether my heart likes it or not, Drake Walker is one of those things. 

He’s looking at me right now like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. And it’s that kind of intuition he seems to have about me that is going to get me into trouble. Going to make me second-guess my determination to leave him here along with everyone and everything else I’ve grown up with. 

Drake sets down the tool in his hand and flips a switch, lighting up the porch. “Looks like it’s working.” 

“Yeah.” 

He sends me a tight smile. “They don’t call me a handyman for nothing.” It occurs to me in that moment that I don’t know a lot about Drake’s private life. I know he lives in a trailer on the other side of town. And the horrible story he told me about his family, but not much more. 

 I want to escape this place. Does he? “Are you…planning on hanging around Portavira after graduation?” 

His movements pause ever so slightly, but I catch it. “Hadn’t thought too much about it.” 

“Really?” 

“No,” he sighs. “That’s a lie.” Kneeling in front of the toolbox, his jaw tightens, his gaze eventually making its way back to me. “And I don’t want to lie to you anymore, Lexie.” 

“Then don’t,” I say quickly, holding my breath. 

“I know you want to go to college and make something of yourself, but that -that’s not an option for me. I’m just going to stay here trying to fix this old house and honor my dad’s memory.”

He evades my gaze, and the reason why is painfully obvious. “You have nothing, nothing to be ashamed about, Drake. What you’re doing with this cabin is amazing; if this is what you want to do, you should”.

Even in the muted moonlight, I can see the reddening of his cheekbones. “Believe me, for the rest of my life, I’m going to hate myself for how I treated you. I thought…” 

“What?” 

He shakes his head, but answers anyway. “That night at your house, I thought when you found out I what I did for a living, that I was there to repair your roof…you remembered I wasn’t good enough for you. That you looked down on me. I thought you were ignoring me all this time because you regretted everything that happened, everything you said. You had a momentary lapse of judgement and went back onto your pedestal, out of reach of my filthy hands. It hurt to think I disgusted you. It hurt and I took it out on you.” At the end of his explanation, my mouth is hanging open. No wonder he was so mad, lashing out all the time. He thought I was ignoring him because I thought myself better. Above him. For a prideful person like Drake, being ignored because of his status would have stung worse than anything else. 

“Why are you only telling me this now?” 

“Because it sounds like an excuse—and I’m not making one. Ever.” 

“I didn’t think I was better than you. I missed you.” That strong chest of his starts to rise and fall quickly, his gaze penetrating me through the darkness. “I know that sounds silly. It was just one night.” 

“No. I missed you, too.” He takes a step in my direction. “Still do.” His eyes close and he releases a bumpy breath. “Brutally, baby. I’ve never stopped wanting—fuck-craving you like a madman. It just killed me to see how you were so gentle and kind to everyone but me. Even before I started -bullying you.” 

Nerve tingle everywhere on my body, the need to touch and be touched by Drake increasing the temperature of my skin rapidly, making my breasts feel full, my legs weak. I’ve never tried drugs, but I understand now what addiction must be like. Fighting a pull, battling a self-destructive urge, promises an incredible high before the inevitable downward spiral. If I give him the slightest encouragement, he’s going to bring me inside and…be with me again. 

Is that what I want? Yes. 

Will giving in to my physical urges make it much harder when I have to leave town for good? Yes. Yes. 

There isn’t anything casual about Drake and me. And how can I begin to rebuild my pride, my life, if my first act of independence is giving my body to the person who made me cry so many times since sophomore year, I’ve lost count? I search for a way to change the subject. To take the focus off the connection dragging us back together. 

“Well.” I dampen my lips. “I don’t think I’ll go to college anymore. My father hid all my acceptance letters. He was never really going to let me go.” I intertwine my fingers together and tighten them until they leach of color. “Tonight, was the first time I ever spoke back to him. I was just so angry.” Several beats pass. 

“Of course, you were.” He drops down onto the back porch, a couple of feet to my right, staring out into the trees. “Hell, Lexie. I’m sorry he did that.” 

I nod. “I did a lot of thinking on the back of your bike. It’s good for that. Thinking. Isn’t it?” 

“Yeah. When you don’t want to think… it’s good for that, too.” 

“Hmm.” 

He looks over at me; hands clasped loosely between his bent knees. “What did you think about?” 

“College. How to salvage the original plan.” I feel kind of jumpy, sharing my ideas with Drake, with anyone, I’ve kept things to myself for so long, not confiding in my classmates, not getting close to others, lest my father find a way to blacken the connection. To make people sorry for interacting with me. “I was thinking…maybe I could go and see the school guidance counselor. I need all my transcripts to apply to college here in Cordonia. Once I do that, things might get easier. There has to be a way to make it work. Even if it is a little late to apply.” 

Drake nods, frowning like he’s giving my plan some serious thought. “It’s not safe for you to go back to the school, Lexie. I’ll go. I’ll do whatever you need. Pick up your transcripts or anything else. We can find a library around here to fill out the applications online…” My heart thumps heavily. All that time spent with him, getting deeper and deeper. It wouldn’t be wise. “You don’t have to do all of that.” 

“I want to.” 

His eyes are hopeful. I shouldn’t allow that hope. Nor should I rely on him for things I need to do myself. Things that will be required to take control of my life. “It’s not safe for you at the school, either. What if my father presses assault charges?” As soon as I ask the question, I shake my head. “Never mind. He’d never do that. People would know you bested him. They’d know what he did to me, too—and he’d never, never allow that. There’s nothing more important to him than his reputation.” 

“So I’ll go to the school for you?” he asks, quietly, almost too casually, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the set of his jaw. It’s not a simple question. If I say yes to this favor, it means our…relationship will extend beyond one night. To include tomorrow—Sunday—plus Monday morning, before the school opens. It adds time to the us I know he still wants. Do I have a choice, though? My father could be there waiting for me, and that terrifies me more than my feelings for Drake do. What he’s willing to do could help me tremendously. Could start me on the path to a new beginning. “Yes,” I whisper. “You’ll go.” 

Drake swallows loudly, his eyelids closing. When he opens his eyes again, his gaze traces my bare thighs hungrily. We have until Monday now. What are we going to do with all that time? That question hangs in the air, unspoken, but louder than a shout. I can almost feel the binds tightening us together, strengthening until they become impossible to snap. And it scares me, but I need him too, even if it’s for a few days. Always loved being scared, electrified, by beautiful things, and bare-chested in the moonlight, Drake is by far the most beautiful of all. 

“Lexie…” he breathes, swallowing loudly. “I want to taste you again?” Heat envelops me, invades me. I’ve always worried I need to touch myself too often. That I have a more pronounced sexual appetite than I’m supposed to have at my age. But as Drake kneels on the lower stair in front of me and separates my thighs, kissing a path toward my apex, I know he’s the reason. Drake is the reason I’ve been riding the heel of my hand, crying frustration into my pillow, night after night after night. He’s the one that inspires the excruciating arousal—and I don’t have a shot in hell of saying no to him. Not when it comes to being physical. I just have to remember to say no to anything more. Anything beyond this. “Yes…” I lean back on my elbows. “Do it.” 

He does, and we spend the next hours lost on each other. 

[pleasantanathema]

Graves into Gardens | Reiner Braun x Reader | Chapter One

Chapter One: Living Ghosts

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Fem!Reader 

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: Modern AU, spoilers up to season four, slight manga spoilers (only by including characters met later), captivity, mentions of violence, enemies to lovers, angst, and eventual smut (don’t worry, it’ll come sooner than you think).

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Here’s chapter one of my multi-chapter series for Reiner— chapter two is already ready!

A very special thank you to @present-mel​ , and @whats-her-quirk​ for encouraging me to take the plunge and create this monster (I’ve got a lot planned for this fic and I’m so excited for it) 💕

Masterlist | Next Chapter

           You were having that same dream again, the one where you felt like you were dying. Your shoulder ached with the memory of bursting pain, but there were warm hands there, holding you, pressing down to keep the bleeding at bay. You could never recognize the face, never identify the voice, your ears still ringing from the sound of a piercing gunshot. It was always the same; a delirious memory warped into a nightmare. Sometimes the dream ended in the hospital, other times with you staring at the inside of a coffin, or in a shallow grave.

           But this time, you were waking up, eyes flickering open to meet harsh fluorescent lights and clinking, cold handcuffs around your wrists.

          A white-hot sense of dread pooled over your body.

          You knew where you were. You knew how you got here. And suddenly, you wished you were dreaming again.

          You could still see it all, still hear the deafening blades of the helicopter whirring above you. None of your team had expected the Marleyans to be in the warehouse; they hadn’t been on the soil of Paradis in years. They’d caught you off guard and sent your escape plan into action sooner than expected. You’d tried to follow Mikasa and Armin, but Jean was in your way. The lines of your vertical movement gear had tangled with his as you both hurriedly attempted to ascend and meet Levi in the aircraft, sending you spiraling back into the window, back into enemy territory.

          Someone kicked you in the skull when you landed, you could still feel your head throbbing with the soreness. That must’ve been what did you in, what made you easy pickings to become a captive to the Marleyan government.

          You sat up, taking note of your surroundings: of course, they’d put you in a cell, one void of a bed but thankfully containing a fucking bucket. How considerate. Just outside the iron bars was a table scattered with broken pieces of your gear, undoubtedly torn apart to be studied and to keep you from using it to escape.

          Anger brewed inside your chest, a familiar feeling of betrayal returning that you hadn’t felt in years. There were faces here you didn’t want to see, enemies with broken facades that still haunted your thoughts at night. People you’d trusted, people you’d loved.

          You knew they would show themselves soon. If you were still alive, it’s because there were questions that Zeke Yeagar wanted answers to, tendrils of doubt and duplicity that he wanted to sink into your mind.

━━━─── • ───━━━

          Reiner felt sick. He’d never wanted to see you again, yet he’d been the one to carry your unconscious body through the compound, to cuff you and leave you on the frigid concrete floor. He’d stood over your figure for a while, heart pounding his chest out of fear that you’d wake up and flash that scrutinizing gaze of yours toward him again. But you’d just laid there at his feet, small, vulnerable, like a lost memory washed back upon the shores of his life.

          And of course, now that you were awake, you weren’t talking, refusing to take Zeke’s bait.

          He watched the older man pace around the room, glasses glinting as he wrung his hands. Truly, Reiner had been surprised that Zeke didn’t kill you on the spot, instead opting to transport you all the way across the border to their headquarters, insistent that you be treated like precious cargo. Though, it had been hard to keep Porco from poking at your body in the floorboards of the armored truck. Reiner had tried to keep his gaze away from you, eyes glued to the dark horizon outside of the rain smeared window. Maybe if he had stopped looking at you, you would have disappeared.

          There was something pressing Zeke, something worrying him that he wasn’t sharing with the rest of the warriors. He thought you knew something, or perhaps that you could be valuable in some way.

          Reiner knew that if you were to live, you needed to speak, needed to give them a piece of information to work with. He placed his head in his hands at the table, palms rubbing at his eyes. He shouldn’t—he didn’t—care if you took your last breath here. You were the enemy, someone who’d once held a knife to his throat when his true intentions within the ranks of The Scouts were revealed. He almost wished you’d killed him then, that you’d ended all the years of misery and regret that still clung to his mind like a poisonous leech.

          “Maybe she’ll give in to someone she knows,” Zeke stopped his pacing, attention turning to Annie Leonhart who sat across from Reiner, “why don’t you give it a go?”

          “Absolutely not,” she rejected, long legs crossing at the ankles upon the table.

          “Bertholdt tells me that you two were quite the comrades during your reconnaissance mission.”

          “I wouldn’t say that. We just found each other tolerable. Bertie was always sweet on her, though.”

          Zeke sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Bertholdt is kind to everyone, he’s as soft as they come.”

          Bertholdt, per usual, stayed quiet in the face of Zeke’s remarks.

          Porco Galliard chuckled at that statement, straightening his shoulders before he spoke.

          “Which is exactly why you should’ve sent me to Paradis instead, Chief. I could give her a go. You were being too easy on her, anyways. Once you start ripping off fingernails people really start to give in, you know.”

          Reiner’s gut twisted at the thought.

          “You’re not allowed anywhere near her, Gailliard,” Zeke crossed his arms as a smirk settled into the lines of his beard, “she’s far too pretty, you’d break down and grovel to her before it was all over.”

          Galliard huffed, a pink tinge dusting his cheeks as he shrunk down in his seat.

          “Reiner—”

          He had an inkling that it would come down to this. There would be no point in disputing it, he’d have to come face to face with his past, with sins he thought he left behind four years ago.

          He stood before Zeke could complete his thought, heavy knuckles rapping at the wood of the table.

          “Well, looks like we finally have a volunteer.”

           Every inch of Reiner’s skin bristled as he marched down the corridor to the prison cells. His footsteps were jarring, heavy, like he was determined to leave prints in the floor to mark a final walk of shame. Some part of him hoped you’d be gone when he opened the door, that you would have used your wits and crawled through some air duct and run away from this, from him.

          He almost didn’t turn the door handle. He felt invisible, burdensome hands pulling at his shoulders, calling at him to run. He’d always been a coward, especially when it came to you. He hated you, loathed you because he knew you pegged him as fraud from the beginning. You never threw a kind word in his direction, always looked at him like he was below you, like his pride meant nothing to you.

          Reiner just wished that you had meant nothing to him. Even when the opportunity had presented itself, he couldn’t even find the strength to kill you like his orders demanded. He wondered if you remembered it at all, if your memories had finally flooded back after all this time. Something inside his heart wouldn’t let him that night, some unknown, egregious feeling that by some means overshadowed his hatred. 

          That feeling returned when he entered the room and found you sitting with your back to the wall, your tightly bound hands in your lap.

          He took in a deep breath as he averted his gaze, teeth gritting at the sight of you awake. Zeke was right, four years had done you justice; time had only made you more beautiful than before, and he worried he might fall to his knees before you.

          “Reiner.”

          Sometimes, he just really wished people would stop saying his name.

━━━─── • ───━━━

          A strange relief settled into your stomach at the sight of him. Reiner was as hulking as ever, broad shoulders stretching the threads of his shirt to their limits. But he was different, older…demure, in some ways. He didn’t hold his head as high anymore, didn’t immediately cross his arms across his barreled chest to appear larger. He took tired, golden eyes less intense than you last remembered. His fingers rubbed at his lips, at the facial hair that adorned more pronounced cheekbones.

          You hated to admit that he appeared even more handsome than you remembered.

           There was a red armband tied around his bicep, an insignia emblazoned on it that you’d never seen before.

          “Do I make you nervous, Braun?”

          You caught his attention then, made his eyes look at you as you leaned your head back against the stone wall.

          “Tough question from the one behind bars.”

          His voice had changed, too. He sounded more stoic, more serious. There used to be a hint of glee under that tongue of his.

          “Why am I here?”

          “I’m supposed to be the one asking you things.”

          You shrugged, biting at your cheek as you wiggled your toes to try to make them feel again. Your limbs were starting to ache, your head too, body feeling like it was starting to cement to the floor. You didn’t want to be Zeke Yeagar’s plaything, but you knew that if you were alive, there was something they wanted. There was some leverage you held, but you weren’t sure what it was just yet. You had hoped they would send Bertholdt in to talk to you, you always could get under his skin.

          Reiner was a more difficult case for you. He always coated himself in arrogance, made it harder for you to chip away at his armor. He never let anyone in, just always grinned, acted like he had everything under control. But before you was a man with cracks, a man that time and guilt had eroded. You almost felt sorry for him, almost. A man like him deserved to bear the weight of his burdens.

          “Listen, if you don’t start talking—”

          “You’ll what? Kill me?”

          “We’ll torture you.”

          He said the words with a weight that knocked you back a bit, stole the last breath of gusto you were holding onto. You expected as much, but hearing it said aloud made fear crawl up your spine, made the cuffs around your wrist feel even more strained against your skin.

          “What do you want to know? I could tell Yeagar was prodding for something tangible to use against Paradis.”

          “I just want to know what you know about us, if you know anything about what Marley has been doing in the last few years.”

          “You’ve been fighting a war, that much I know.”

          And he looked like he had been through battle, been through hell in trenches and gunfire. Your intelligence agents had reported that Braun had been promoted to be Vice Commander of the Warrior Unit, and the hardline of his frown told you he’d seen more horrors than you wanted to know about.

          “Tell me something you don’t know from news headlines.”

          Levi had trained all his scouts for this situation once upon a time ago. You could still hear his voice in your head, commanding you to give up as little as possible, learn what the enemy wanted and then give them something else to cling on to. You had a few things you knew you could feed to them, beneficial tidbits that would satiate their hunger and keep them from feasting upon your teammates. But relaying any kind of information was a death sentence within itself; give the dogs a treat and eventually they’ll want more.

          And you knew that Reiner, that Zeke Yeagar, was a very greedy host.

          You stood slowly, releasing the aching tension in your lower back. Reiner didn’t flinch away from his place beyond the rusting iron, instead eyeing you like you were some exotic thing in a cage.

          There was a nostalgia of being in his presence, even if the atmosphere around him was contrary to what you were used to perceiving. He still made your blood boil, still made your fighting instincts come alive in the back of your mind. You still felt small in his shadow, but there was still a lingering feeling, a fleeting memory, about how being around him once made you feel safe.

          Your bare feet moved toward him, toes stinging against the cold of the floor.

          One of your hands wrapped around a bar to your prison, the metal of your handcuffs clinking against the barrier.

          You could catch his scent from being this close, and at least that much stayed the same—he always smelled like cedarwood, earthy and sweet, like the spice of the forest floor after a fresh rain. It was almost funny how smell created memories more frequently than any other sense. 

          Suddenly, you felt like you were back home, like nothing had changed, as if his deceit had never been revealed. Your mind’s eye flashed images of your old training camp, of Reiner lifting Connie onto his shoulders after the small boy had successfully managed to triumph over Jean in his marksmanship practice. He’d used one of the tricks that Reiner had taught him. That once sweet memory turned sour as you remembered just why Reiner was always such a good shot.

          You tilted your chin up to look at him, to come face-to-face with the imposing penumbra you thought you’d warded off. He was a living ghost brought back to haunt you once again.

          “You seem pathetic, Braun, like you’ve lost all that bravado that made you so special.”

          He took your words, let them bounce off his chest like you hadn’t even spoken them.

          “Why did they send you in here? Did they really expect I’d crack under such pitiful pressure? You’re a deplorable, miserable—”

          His fist wrapped around your hand, crushing your fingers between his might and the metal bar you’d secured yourself to.

          You hissed at the pain, but…there was something you had missed in that touch of his; he felt warm, worn, like there were secrets being pressed into your skin.

          “Be. Quiet.”

          You expected his fingers to flex, waited for him to crack your fingers under his pressure. But he kept his strength at bay, electing to keep a steady, continuous tension against your knuckles.

          “Talk, or tomorrow will be your last day. You wouldn’t want to die at the hands of a pathetic, wretched man like me, would you? No, you’re too proud for that.”

          He took a step back, releasing his bruising grip before turning on his heels to leave.

          A string of panic began to uncoil inside you, snapping as his arm extended towards the exit.

           “Reiner,” you called, “tell me something. How much do you really know about Zeke Yeagar?”

           “I know enough.”

           “No, you don’t,” you were starting to sound worried, you could hear it, “there’s something I know that you don’t, and I’d be willing to give you information in return for you answering a question for me.”

           You could feel your heart beating in your chest, every pump within your ribs like the ticking of an oppressive clock. He was silent, steady, back still turned away from you. You noticed that his fists were clenched by his side, a vein starting to appear up the exposed length of his forearm.

           “I’ll consider it. Depends on what your question is.”

           He still didn’t turn to look at you.

           “Reiner…tell me what happened to Marco.”

           The door was slamming shut before the last syllable of the dead man’s name left your lips.

Next Chapter

[1engele]

daybreak | sal fisher x fem!reader - 8. solo

Previous | Next

[warnings: underage drinking, smoking, weed, near death experience?, crying]

"never have i dealt with anything more difficult than my own soul." — You leave the roof late in the night. Sal had gotten up and retreated into his apartment a little while earlier—but you'd decided to stay and make sure he didn't come back there.

Three days pass. They all consist of fleeting glances and irresolute tension. Things remain the same with the group dynamic, except for between you and Sal. Neither of you seem to know how to continue from that conversation on the roof. No one else notices, though. They'd never suspected anything from the beginning, it seems.

The beginning of your involvement with Sal involved a little bit of buildup and then a snap which resulted in a sexual encounter (or two).

Now it was a bit different. Now things were a little less lighthearted.

It's a Saturday—you'd planned to spend it inside as usual. That's until your phone starts ringing.

You flip your phone open, read over the contact, and answer the call.

"Hi, Ash."

"Y/N," she starts. You hear the excitement to continue in her voice. "There's a party tonight."

"Oh?" You get up from your seat on your bed.

"Some stoner Larry has connections with invited him and said to bring friends. He wants to bring us—save for Todd. He doesn't do parties."

"Wait," your eyebrows furrow. "Me?"

"Yeah!" She says from the other end of the line. "It'll be fun. Cmon."

You bite your lip nervously, anxiety knotting in your stomach. "I don't know. I've never really.."

Ashley is momentarily silent on the other line. She must be contemplating what to say to convince you. "Sal's coming too. Parties aren't necessarily his thing, either—so maybe you guys could try it out together?"

You open your mouth and then promptly close it. Something inside of you suddenly really wanted to go to this party. "Um... alright. Okay."

"Cool! What're you gonna wear?"

You look toward the drawer that contained your clothes and bit your lip. "Not sure yet. I'll update you on that."

"Okay, don't forget to text me! See you at eight."

The call declined from the other line. The phone that held the phone to your ear slipped into your lap. You pressed your lips together and tried to ignore the familiar feeling of sickening nausea and anxiety.

You don't rush yourself on getting ready for the party, because the time you're due to be done won't be for a while.

You take your time with the hours you have. You shower, take your time on eyeliner, mascara, and lipgloss—and finally decide on what you'll wear.

You decide on a square neck white cropped tank with short sleeves and your nicest pair of light blue, slightly washed out jeans. You slid on your favorite, sort of chunky white sneakers over white socks.

It isn't long after you finish when Ashley calls and informs you she's arrived at the apartments and Larry and Sal have already joined her out in the car. You give yourself a once-over in the mirror and then leave the apartment.

Your mother was nowhere to be found. She's either at work or drinking with her coworkers.

Once you've opened the door and climbed into the Ford Fiesta, you immediately realize your predicament—Sal is the only person in the backseat with you.

The drive there is decently long and painfully tense. Neither you nor Sal know how to speak to each other, so no words are exchanged beneath the heavy metal music emitting from the radio.

When you finally arrive at the party, it's recognizably crowded, drunken teenagers are flowing from the front door, in and out, and there's a good amount on the lawn. The newest radio hit is playing on a considerably loud speaker, and the vibrations are notable even from a distance.

"Woah," Larry says, staring at the house as Ashley pulls onto the side of the road. "Didn't realize he was so popular."

You all exit the Ford Fiesta and cross the road. You cringe as you watch someone vomit onto the grass, and another person ripping from a bong in the wide open.

Smoke flies into your face and your eyes as you enter the home. You cough, waving a hand as you blindly follow after your friends.

Eventually, the four of you find yourself on two couches directly facing each other. You on one, Larry and Ashley on the other. Sal is stood to the side.

Larry materializes a bottle of Fireball that you guessed he stole from someone on the way in, opens the cap with his teeth, and takes several gulps.

"Where did you get that?" Ashley laughs over the music, pulling the sleeves of her lavender sweater over her hands.

"Stole it," he looks to Sal and directs the bottle toward him. "Want some?"

"Sure," Sal replies, to your surprise—taking it from Larry's grasp and walking away and in your direction.

"You're drinking that?" You ask him, testing the waters.

"No, actually," you watch Sal round to the other side of the couch to linger behind you. "I'm limiting him. He'll thank me later."

Once he's out of your field of vision, you tip your head back and gaze up at him—your perspective on him being upside down. Your gaze zeroes in on the bottle of Fireball he's clutching in his hand.

"Hey," you say, meeting his eyes. "Give me some."

It was time to give him that excuse—the excuse to break the ice.

He leans in a bit, gesturing toward you with the bottle. "You want it?"

A grin pulls at your glossed lips. Instead of reaching for the bottle, you open your mouth and tilt your chin up.

Sal looks on for a moment but laughs once he realizes what you want. Everyone else at the couches seem decently distracted with each other and the overall environment—so he doesn't seem to worry about it too much.

He reaches his hand around and towards your neck, gripping your jaw in his fingers and holding you firmly. You feel his cold rings press into your skin when he tips your head further back just a bit—and then steadily pours a shot-amount of Fireball into your mouth with his other hand.

Sal stops at the right time, looks on as you pull back and sit up, and cautiously watches the back of your head as you assumedly swallow the whisky. But when you turn a bit in your seat to peer at him over your shoulder, you're holding your mouth closed and pressing a closed fist to your lips while soundlessly giggling.

"What?" He laughs, a hand moving to the top of the couch. He leans in a bit. "Can you not swallow it?"

Your shoulders shake slightly as you continue to laugh. You shake your head up and down.

"Do you need to spit it out?" Sal asks, his tone warming into concern.

You shake your head from side to side. You meet his eyes and swallow, gasping as the liquid slides down your throat and burns all the way down. You cough, the flavor of cinnamon and what tasted like Big Red gum overloaded your senses.

"God," you breathe out, giggling all the while. The alcohol is gross but you're feeling good. "It's not great."

"Yeah, that's why I'm holding Larry off, so he won't be puking his guts out later."

You look up to the boy, who's sat on the arm of the couch opposite to you. He's busy talking to some equally stoned guy, so you can't manage to catch his eye—but you catch Ashley's.

She had this look of astonishment on her face.

Had she been watching what happened? When Sal poured Fireball in your mouth?

Your face grew hot thinking about it.

Sal wanders away from you again, and you find yourself drinking more than you should. Eventually, your rationality disappears.

It's been a few hours and Sal hasn't seen you for a while. So when he hears about a girl wearing a white crop top walking across the roof of the house, he feels like he's going to vomit.

It takes him a record time of 6 seconds to get out of the door and onto the lawn. Upon looking up at the roof, his suspicions are confirmed. He shoulders past multiple people to place himself near the front of the crowd and gazes up in horror.

"Sal!" You yell, gesturing toward him with something between a wave and a point. "I'd recognize that hair anywhere!"

Multiple heads within the crowd turn away from you and towards him. He puts aside his social anxiety and the wave of unease that washes over his body and tries to focus on you. "Please come down," he rushes out, raising his voice just enough for it to be audible over the crowd.

You laugh like he's told a hilarious joke and he quickly realizes his mistake. That's the worst thing he could've told your intoxicated self. You move toward the edge of the roof, shaky and uncoordinated. "You want me to jump?"

"No!" He exclaims, his hands flying up, fingers splayed. "No. Don't do that!"

"Holy shit!" He hears Larry shout from somewhere closer to the front door of the house. Sal guesses he's just now catching wind of the current situation. Moments after, both of his brunette friends are at his side.

"What the hell is going on?!" Ashley yells, verdant eyes glued to the sight before them.

You lost your balance once again, but this time a bit worse—your foot catching on a shingle on the roof and effectively knocking the red solo cup out of your hand. It dropped onto the downward slope of the roof and the liquor inside of it spilled down the side.

Whenever Sal witnessed the toe of your white sneaker catch onto that shingle, he felt as though his very soul had been ripped from his body. Immediately after he watched you regain your footing and stable yourself, though—his heartbeat calmed to a steadier pace.

"I'm going up there," he stated beneath the chatter.

Both Ashley and Larry's heads whipped toward him.

"You'll kill yourself!" Larry exclaims incredulously. Ashley opens her mouth to assumedly second Larry's statement, but Sal cuts her off by walking away.

"Not before she does," he mutters, pushing his way through the density of bodies and forcing his way through the front door. His senses are disoriented like he's been submerged beneath water as the volume of the music scratched at his eardrums and pulsed the innards of his skull. Adrenaline courses through his blood like a drug whilst he shoulders past both mindlessly drunk and carelessly high teenagers.

Sal doesn't spare them a second glance, but their unconcern does remain in his mind. The fact that they're continuing their lives while he feels as though something that's growing into something of importance in his is about to be taken from him... it's mind-numbing.

He's never been an optimistic person, he's always tried to view things in the way they're most likely to happen—and all that's beneath that two-story house is a long drop and concrete. If you fall, you'll break your head open and you'll die.

He finally makes it to the stairs. He makes a break for it then, tripping over his own feet multiple times. Anything could happen in this amount of time, and he knew no one else was going to help him.

Sal's thoughts grow more and more disordered as he navigates the dark halls of the house. The music seems to have only grown louder, the deafening mixture of guitar and drums taunting him.

He remembers the window on the outside of the house. Sal estimates which room it would be, locates it, and approaches the door. He turns the knob, but it doesn't fully rotate.

The door is locked from the inside. Of course. Who would have a party and leave the bedroom unlocked so people could fuck all over your comforter?

He bites out a curse only he hears and prepares himself to force the door open.

Sal grabs the doorknob tightly, prepares himself, and rams the side of his body into the wood. He doesn't even feel the pain, just does it again, and again.

He goes until that half of his body is numb.

The door finally budges, and he wastes no time entering the room. He doesn't hesitate when he reaches the double-hung window he'd been seeking. He grips it at the bottom and pulls it up and open, clenching his teeth together painfully.

Sal stares out at the vastness of the night, the golden streetlights, and how they shine down on the crowd of people below him. They all seem to be looking at the same place, up, but not at him—and he can only swallow thickly.

Carefully, Sal moves to sit on the windowsill, gripping what was above him tightly, his legs outside. He then ducks to leave the room and shivers as cool air hits the front of his neck.

He starts walking the roof, steadily—like his life depends on it. Because.. it does.

Or yours. Yours depends on it.

"Y/N!" Sal calls as he finally reaches a point where you're in his line of sight. Momentarily, he's worried he'd scared you. But you turn your head, meet his eyes, and smile. Despite that, your face spells fear all over it. Something must have sobered you up a bit while he'd been inside.

"I'm going to come to you. Do not walk towards me!"

You blink lazily, because you were drunk, and nodded. You shivered, hugging yourself. It didn't seem to do much, though. Your arms were bare.

"Fuck," he breathes, gazing down at the fall that could await him if he misstepped and immediately reverted his gaze. Blood rushes between his ears as he steadily makes his way towards you.

"Please don't fall!" You suddenly exclaim, your hair tussling in the breeze. A strand blows over your face, so you quickly raise a hand to move it back in place.

He looks up from his feet and stares you in the eyes. "I won't," he affirms, you and himself, continuing across the roof. "Just stay put, okay?"

It doesn't take long to get over to you. He's mostly sober, so it isn't hard on that part. What's difficult is calming his steady heart.

He's not scared of falling. Not necessarily scared of injury or death. But he is scared of not making it to you.

Once he's at an arms reach of your shaking form, he reaches out a hand, palm facing the darkness of the sky.

You seem to read his mind, slowly grabbing his hand. Sal maneuvers your joint hands to where your palms press together and your fingers are interlaced. He doesn't know if it's the blood rushing through his ears or the distance from the ground, but it's as if everything below becomes very quiet.

You meet his gaze, your pretty eyes glossy with tears. The eyeliner you were wearing had just begun to collect beneath your lower lash line.

He squeezes your hand and leads you to be in front of him.

It's not long after that that he's gotten you off of the roof. Sal watches you slip through the open window before turning toward the density of people beneath him on the ground. He breathes in as he catches both Larry and Ashley's eyes—he can't read their expressions, but he wouldn't be surprised if there was shock written all over it—and then ducks back into the window.

As soon as the window is shut and it meets the windowsill once more, Sal whips his head toward you. "Y/N-"

Before he'd saw your face, and the language of your body as you were sat on the edge of the bed, he was going to scold you, and then go downstairs and find you some water and sober you up—all of that falls down the drain when he sees the stream of tears falling down your face. Every time you blink, more drop—quickly staining your cheeks with black makeup.

"Oh," he breathes, suddenly speechless. "Y/N-"

You attempt at taking a breath in, it seems—but it's a failure because it hitches and turns into a shoulder-shaking sob.

"I'm sorry," you cry, roughly dragging the tips of your fingers beneath your eyes. This only smears the running mascara further. "I'm just drunk."

Sal momentarily feels like breaking down in tears himself, that's how much this entire ordeal stressed him out. He approaches your trembling body and crouches down in front of you.

"Hey," he says, softly. "It doesn't matter whether or not you're intoxicated. Your feelings still matter, okay?"

You sniffle, still attempting to wipe your tears away, and reluctantly nod. "I'm sorry," you try again.

He places his hands on your knees and squeezes them firmly. "It's okay."

You jerk into a sob, leaning forward and pressing the side of your face on his shoulder. You slowly tuck your arms beneath his and cross them over the expanse of his back, palms flat on each shoulder blade. The convulsive gasps were hard to stop, making it hard to breathe.

Sal breathed out softly against the prosthetic, raising his arms and encasing them around your torso.

He didn't wonder about the reason for your tears. Assuming things wouldn't help you anymore.

"I don't know why I did that," you whisper, quieting yourself to swallow your saliva. "Maybe I do. I think I was trying to prove something to myself."

He finds himself holding you tighter, your chest pressed to his, feeling your heartbeat through the fabric that separated you both—oddly enough, even at this moment, it reminds him of that night in the car. You had been even closer to him then, though.

"It was stupid," you murmured. "Why would I do that, after what we had talked about last night?"

"What if we jumped together?" he remembers saying.

"Some things can't be explained," he replies earnestly. "You don't need to know why you did what you did. It was stupid, though. I'd probably walk across the roof of a two-story house for you again, but.."

You pull back and meet his eyes, your face wet. The majority of your makeup had been cried off and your lipgloss had been smudged.

You must've sensed his examination, breaking the visual contact and sniffling. "I know I look ridiculous right now."

Sal smiles. He knows she can't see it, but maybe she'll hear it. "I don't think so," he murmurs, looking off to the side. "I think that's a bathroom. You can clean up in there if you want."

You follow his gaze and then return your eyes to his and laugh a bit. You still sound drunk, he notes. Obviously. He'd poured a good amount of Fireball into your mouth and watched you drink plenty of other things.

"Feels kinda weird using a stranger's bathroom," you laugh, your breath hitching from the earlier crying.

Sal rolls his eyes humorously, gripping your knees tighter as he pulls himself off of the floor. "The guy who lives here is Larry's friend—and a stoner. I doubt he'd mind. And if he does get mad, I'll take responsibility for it. I forced that door through, anyway.."

Your gaze swivels toward the door, which is not shut but mostly closed. When he glances to where you're looking, he notices it seems a bit.. crooked.

He inwardly cringes. "I'll pay for it. Come on."

Sal follows you into the bathroom. You seem reluctant to enter first, so he does, opening the door and reaching to the side to turn the lights on. They do what they're supposed to—eventually. They're momentarily unresponsive before becoming alive—the illumination brightening the room with a dull yellow hue.

You step onto the tile and began to search for whatever it was you needed. You kneeled at one of the cabinets below the sink, opened it, and ducked your head lower.

"Oh!" You exclaim quietly, reaching in and pulling out two things. A bottle of half-empty makeup remover and a bag of some cotton rounds.

"Maybe he has a girlfriend?" He hears you say to yourself, standing up, nudging the cabinet closed with your foot, and placing the things you found beside the sink.

Sal reaches over and closes the door. He'd rather not have to witness the sight of some drunkards wandering in and fooling around on the bed.

"Lock it," you say. "I'd rather no one- no one see me like this."

His hand was already on the doorknob, so he just reaches down a bit and locks the door.

He watches you struggle a bit with the bag of cotton rounds, trying but failing to open it, so he reaches forward and delicately plucks it out of your grasp.

Sal slides the makeup remover over and pats the place on the counter it was previously. "Sit."

You peer into his eyes inquisitively but waste no time hoisting yourself up and onto the cold surface.

After that, he plucks the bottle of makeup remover off of the counter and douses the cotton round in the liquid. He reaches forward from the distance that your knees created between the both of you, but you spread your thighs and press the heel of your shoe into his lower back, pulling him in so he's between your legs.

Sal doesn't see it suggestively, because you're drunk—but he's glad you asked him to lock the door because, with his luck, Larry or Ashley would find their way into the bathroom and get all of the wrong ideas.

The firmness just beneath his navel presses into the edge of the counter as he cups one side of your face and began wiping away at the eyeliner and mascara and everything it messed up.

"Thank you," you say sweetly, blinking at him with appreciation in your eyes. "Where'd you learn how to do that?"

He remembers a silhouette. Her back was turned to him, golden hair cascading just past her shoulder blades. He remembers blue eyes that looked a lot like his own staring into a mirror, a hand which adorned a wedding ring wiping away makeup from the day.

"Read it on the label of the bottle," he replies, meeting your eyes and looking away.

As he's finishing up, he hears a rapping of knuckles against the locked door. He tosses the used cotton rounds into a trash bin in the corner and then locks eyes with you curiously.

"Occupied," he calls out, still looking at you. The knocking only gets louder, which makes you laugh.

"He said it's occupied!" You yell over the unintelligible music downstairs, your words breaking into a giggle. You press your knees against his waist, and he doesn't even realize it when his hands meet your thighs.

The knocking ceases, fading into a voice. "Is that you guys in there?"

Fucking Larry. Speak of the goddamn devil—that's what he would've said if he'd come knocking sooner.

The both of you seem to be thinking the same thing, locking eyes in terror. You quickly get off of the counter, and Sal unlocks the door and swings it open.

Sure enough, he's standing there—in all of his glory and highness. Larry blinks, the whites of his glossy eyes tinted red. He looks between the both of you before speaking. "Why were.."

"I had to pee," You choose to deadpan.

Sal feels himself grow even paler than he already is. "I came in.. after.. that."

Larry intakes a mouthful of whatever is in the red solo cup he's holding in his tan, lanky fingers, and swallows thickly. "Okay," he croaks, instinctively cringing as the alcohol passed through his chest. He gestured the cup toward you. "Uh..crazy stunt you pulled up there, huh?"

Sal saw your face shift in his peripheral vision. "Huge lapse of judgment," you reply.

"Nobody could tell who you were, so don't worry about that," the brunette smiles a bit. He returns his attention to Sal. "They've started playing country," sure enough, Sal hears the sound of a banjo from the speakers downstairs, effectively punctuating Larry's statement.

"Yeah.." Larry mumbles, sipping his drink and looking up and through his eyebrows. "Ash said to come find you guys so we can leave."

It doesn't take much, after that.

As you're leaving, Larry pulls the door open and furrows his brow at the condition of the hinges. "Wow. How old is this thing?" He mumbles.

Sal hears you snort.

The three of you descend the stairs, skirting past countless teenagers standing on the steps drinking or smoking. Sal makes the mistake of letting you fall behind and feels you stumble and smack him in the back. It's easy to steady himself, quickly gripping the railing—but he's concerned about you, so he turns around.

A guy with a cigarette balancing in his teeth is eying you with frustration pulling at his features. His gaze pulls from your face and down your body absentmindedly.

"Watch it," he murmurs.

"Sorry," you breathe, jerking your head away and meeting Sal's eyes worriedly. Keep walking, you express in the hues of your eyes.

Sal reaches forward and interlaces your fingers with his as he'd done on the roof. He makes a show of it, too—so the guy with the cigarette sees the rings on both of his hands. Sal gives him a distinct look when they lock eyes, rolls his jaw, and lets you lead him down the stairs, instead of the other way around.

By the time you're all nearly shot from weaving through the multitude of sweaty bodies and navigating through plumes of smoke thicker than fog, the three of you find Ashley petting what he'd assume is the host's dog.

No one questions it.

"You good to drive?" Larry asks, placing his cup on a nearby surface.

"Oh, yeah," she rises from her crouch beside the dog. The animal walks away, his golden tail wagging excitedly at the next person who would give him pets. "A gross sip of something put me off of drinking tonight a while earlier. And, uh.. the whole roof thing dried me out."

You sigh. "I'm sorry about that. It sobered me up, too."

She shakes her head, a wispy strand of light brown hair falling over her face. "It was stupid, yes, and I hope you don't do it again, but all that matters now is that you're safe."

Ashley blinks kind green eyes at you and smiles, reaching forward, taking your hand, and leading you away. Sal hears you laugh and follow after her as both of you head for the front door.

He turns to look at Larry once he loses sight of both of you in the crowd. He examines Sal with bleary dark eyes and looks as though he's about to say something, but he doesn't get to.

Even over the blaring country music, Sal hears a yell and then some fearful shouting. He whips around toward the sounds, which were toward the front of the house.

Red and blue flashing lights shine through the windows.

"Shit!"

"Ah, fuck," Larry groaned, nimbly wrapping his fingers around Sal's wrist and dragging him into the density of the panicked crowd. "Did you see where they went?"

Sal shakes his head. "No," he knows you're intoxicated. Panic settles in. He chews his lip, his eyes desperately scamming for a girl wearing a white top squared at the neck—you. "Y/N's had a lot to drink, Larry. If the police-"

"Don't worry about the Five-O, let's worry about the girls," Larry replies absentmindedly, keeping his firm hold on Sal.

"They must've gone to the Ford," Sal shouts over the music, which, for some reason, is still playing. "We were leaving anyway. I'm sure they're in the car."

Larry releases Sal and motions toward the back of the house. "There's a back door. I'll text Ashley and tell her to drive down the block and we can meet them on foot."

It was an agreeable plan. Waltzing out of the house and walking straight up to the car wouldn't be wise.

Larry does what he'd said he'd do. Turns out, Sal was right, they had made it to the car moments before the police had rolled up. Ashley informed him it was two squad cars and four officers. Seemed like overkill for a house party—but he wouldn't know. He didn't do this often.

When Larry was on the phone, Sal was very tempted to ask about Y/N, but refrained.

On the way to the back door, they crossed through the kitchen. Larry snatched an unopened bottle of alcohol of a brand Sal didn't recognize and carried it along with him for the road.

As soon as they made it out of the house, they both made a break for it, running between houses and into multiple different backyards on their way.

They slowed down once they were at a measurable distance from the party, gasping for air. Sal panted against the prosthetic, placing his hands on his knees and slowing his gasps into slow breaths, attempting to calm his racing heart.

They stood on the side of the road, the music in the distance (albeit a lot quieter) still pounding into the night.

Sal lowered himself down onto the curb. Larry joined him, raising the bottle he'd chose to bring with him to his mouth, and opened the steel cap with his teeth. He spits it onto the road and gestures it toward Sal.

"Bottoms up," he said, bringing it to his lips and taking several gulps.

Sal rolled his eyes playfully, eyebrows rising as Ashley's Ford Fiesta cruised down the road and slowed to a stop in front of them. He stood up from the curb and pulled Larry off of it as well.

They entered the car, sliding into the backseat. Larry continued to down the beer he'd found as Ashley turned around in her seat.

"The night's still young," she says. "Any ideas of what we could do?"

It's really not. Sal's a bit disoriented so he doesn't know what time it is but he wouldn't be surprised if it was 3 AM.

You then turn around in the passenger seat and grin mischievously. "Let's go to the lake."

Oh, great.

[mrs-hyperfixed-writes]

Are You Single - 2

Tag List: @becomeunsolved @ambiguous-g @favorite-slytherin-weirdo @a-weirdperson @artist-bby

The reader makes their way through Castle Dimitrescu, encountering the Lady and her daughters. Heisenberg might just have to re-evaluate his opinion of you when you're the unexpected victor of the battles with them.

You had ran through the glorified saw trap, avoiding Lycans and giants alike as you listened to Heisenberg’s taunting. Evidently he was an asshole, but that didn’t seem to be stopping the butterflies in your stomach going mad at the way he spoke to you. Fear had briefly crawled up your spine when he had dropped the spinning log of spikes, blocking your exit and apparently sealing your fate. Thankfully there had been a crevice in the wall, big enough to drop your backpack down by your side and protect yourself. The only thing that took damage was the handcuffs. It had briefly occurred to you that it seemed a very convenient hiding space in an otherwise foolproof killing room.

You ended up back at the gate that you had been captured at, looking over your shoulder this time as you pulled the lever up. Not that you could do anything if Heisenberg or his overgrown sister decided to double check. It seemed unlikely that either of them would treat you to a meal, but you could hope. If you were being honest with yourself though, Heisenberg hardly screamed refined dining.

No, he seemed more like a man who would order a McDonalds or a Burgerking after he’d been working tirelessly all day on a machine in a tank top. All sweaty. . . you smacked yourself in the face, snapping yourself out of your fantasy. You needed to get a grip. Preferably around his throat or his-

You slapped yourself again.

You left through the gate, coming out to an unpleasant looking vineyard. Of course, Dimitrescu was far too high and mighty to get her hands dirty doing manual labour, and any staff that she may of had to maintain the vineyard were probably dead. You shuddered at the thought of so many deaths. You didn’t know any of those people, didn’t know anyone in this godforsaken village that had been put in the middle of nowhere except for the few that had just survived long enough to be brutally killed in front of you. No one would remember any of the dead. It was as if they never existed. And if you died here - which you likely would - you would likely not be remembered. Not with fondness anyway.

You were brought out of your dark thoughts by the sound of a man groaning and wood creaking. You looked up, and to your surprise found an old-fashioned wagon settled in front of the entrance to Castle Dimitrescu. The doors swung open, and someone all but rolled out. The man was massive, both in height and weight.

“I’ve been waiting for you, my friend,” he said with the attitude of someone who was excited to get down to business.

You stopped a couple of metres away, taking it all in. How was this man even alive? Then again, Dimitrescu was nine feet tall and she seemed like she was functioning better than most people. Especially given that the tallest man in history was nearly nine foot and died super young. You could come to terms with this mans existence in no time.

“Who are you? How do you know me?” You let the uncertainty show in your voice.

“Me? I am but a humble merchant,” he said as he rubbed his hands together. “And you’ve been the talk of the town recently! An unknown human outsider making their way through hordes of creatures with nothing but an axe and some second hand guns? Remarkable.”

You hated yourself for the light blush that crept up your neck at the compliment. You never blushed.

“What can I call you?”

“Ah, forgive my manners. You can call me the Duke. Your name please?”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, I already know it, but some people prefer to tell others their name rather than have the introduction stolen from them.”

You chuckled, deciding to bridge the few metres of distance. “(Y/n).”

“Pleasure. Now, would you like to purchase anything for the journey ahead? Medicine? Ammunition?”

“Can you tell me what’s happened here?”

“Ah, information. All I can tell you now is that Mother Miranda has seemingly abandoned the village she has spent a century ruling. Slaughtered the villagers.” He took a long drag of a cigar he had lit before releasing the smoke into the air. “It seems she’s done it for her daughter.”

“Her daughter? Dimitrescu? Or the woman in the veil?”

“Ah, Lady Donna. But no, neither of those are her real daughters. It’s doubtful she even considers them such. The same for her sons.”

Your thoughts drifted back to Heisenberg. Did he hate her for that? For not considering him her child? Questions for later.

“Then who?”

The Duke regarded you for a second. “Sell me those crystal skulls you’ve collected, make a purchase and find me in the castle, and perhaps I’ll know more.”

You blinked in surprise, briefly wondering how he knew that you had been collecting the crystallised remains of those Lycans. Truthfully you just thought they were pretty.

After selling the remains and buying yourself some extra ammo, as well as some of the strange medicine the Duke advertised that was supposed to encourage cell division, you nodded to him in thanks and turned to face the castle.

“Although I must say,” The Duke called out before you could make much progress, “why do you wish to go into that castle? You are a stranger. There is no stake in this for you.”

You took a deep breath. Why were you doing this? That beast under your skin wanted to answer. To find and tear them apart. For revenge for all the dead. To satisfy my own need for blood and pain.

Instead you said, “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

You walked towards the doors.

***

The inside of the castle was. . . beautiful. Definitely a place a lady would live. Perhaps a place you would live in another life. It seemed as though everything was trimmed with gold, including the beautiful waist high vases decorated with beautiful women. The furniture was of the highest quality, the rugs and carpets plush enough to sleep comfortably on. They looked expensive enough to cost more money than you’d ever had in your entire life. You wiped your muddy boot on the rug you were standing on, leaving a dark smear.

The thing that drew your attention most of all was the portrait that dominated the opposite wall. Three women, admittedly indistinguishable from one another, sat in big dresses. The plaque identified them as the three daughters. Three daughters that loved entertaining foreigners.

A bad feeling overcame you, and you decided to tuck your handgun into your boot, regardless of the discomfort. You covered it with your jeans.

You pressed on until you came to a main chamber that had another set of double doors decorating the walls. A scream rang out, clear as day and stopping you in your tracks. The scream of a woman in terrible pain. Part of you thought that maybe you should try to find her, but something in you knew that it had been a death scream. The agonised scream of someone who wanted to live and was denied.

You swallowed, instead making your way to the double doors, wondering where they lead.

“Well, who’s this then?” an upbeat female voice asked.

You turned to look, and only found three swarms of flies buzzing closer. And right before your eyes, they materialised into three beautiful young women. The daughters. The first thought in your head was how the painting didn’t do any of them justice.

You didn’t even have time to take your gun out of your backpack before the woman on the left - a tall blonde with blood on her mouth - grabbed you by the throat and lifted you clean off the floor, slamming you against the door. She pressed her face closer to your shoulder and took a deep sniff. You shuddered against the feeling of her nose tickling your neck.

“Fresh blood,” she said, voice dripping with a desire that put you on edge.

“Mother says you have to share, sister,” said the redhead with a childish delight, the brunette nodding in agreement with a sadistic grin on her face.

That scream echoed through your head again. The blonde stared into your face, looking for the traces of fear that likely coated their usual victims. She was going to come up empty. You cleared your throat, looking down into beautiful but evil eyes that had probably been the last thing that so many had seen, and spit right in her face.

The grin on her face froze as the glob made contact with her cheek, and then dropped off altogether when her sisters roared in laughter, one of them doubling at the waist and clutching her stomach.

She threw you to the floor, tossing your backpack aside and growling at her sisters to silence them. You leaped towards it with the intention of pulling your shotgun out, deciding to keep the handgun a secret. But she grabbed a fistful of your hair, most of her materialising back into that swarm as she did so. She dragged you through the halls, her sisters flanking you. You clawed at her hand, but to no avail.

Another swarm got too close, a face materialising. The brunette. She ripped one of your arms off of where it was clawing at the hand that felt as if it was going to rip your scalp off. She held it up to her mouth and grinned. You didn’t even have the chance to scream as she sank her teeth into the side of your forearm, digging in deep. Then she pulled back, laughing. She hadn’t done it to feed, only to hurt you. The other sister came forward, her face materialising as well to lick up the blood that was leaking down your arm. She left little bites of her own up your arm. But these were more like love bites.

Suddenly they stopped, and the oldest released the grip on your hair, using her momentum to throw you into a wall.

“Mother,” she started, “I bring you fresh prey.”

Oh no.

You turned, out of breath from the hurt your body had suffered.

“You are so kind to me, daughters.” She took a deep drink of wine and rose from her chair. “Now, let's take a look at them.”

You didn’t get up from the floor, not having the energy or the stupidity to make a scene right now. Not as she fully turned and looked down at you.

“Well, well. A nobody with no name worth knowing or manners to speak of makes their way to my castle do they? Well, you escaped my little brother's idiot games did you? Let’s see how special you are.”

She beckoned to the blonde and the redhead. They each grabbed an arm, forcefully hoisting you to your feet. You squirmed a little, but their grip was like iron as they held up the arm with the bleeding bite mark. Lady Dimitrescu raised a brow and looked back at the remaining daughter.

“Cassandra? What did I say about waiting?”

Cassandra looked down at her feet, almost seeming to be ashamed. “Apologies Mother.”

Dimitrescu gripped you by the wrist and lifted you off the ground. You gritted your teeth. She closed her mouth over the wound and sucked. If you were being honest with yourself most of your blood at this point had either transferred to your face or. . .

It wasn’t important. But apparently you needed therapy.

She dropped you suddenly, and you couldn’t help the shout that escaped your lips when your knees made impact with the floor.

“Just as I thought, nothing special.”

“May we devour their flesh now Mother-”

“But I am the one who captured them-”

“Now, now girls. First I must inform Mother Miranda of Heisenberg’s failure. But soon there will be enough for everyone.” She turned to the blonde daughter. “Bela, take them to the dungeons and shove them in a cell.”

Bela grinned at you, seizing your hair again as she dragged you along, leaving the laughter of her mother and her sisters behind.

***

Heisenberg was fuming. Not that you had escaped his trap. To be perfectly honest there were several design flaws that he wasn’t going to admit to and he really couldn’t have cared less if you had exploited them to get away. If you were running through the village, then something was bound to get you eventually. That was what he had figured anyway.

No, Heisenberg was angry because that overgrown, egocentric, glorified vampire bitch had ratted him out to Mother Miranda. He could just imagine the smug way she had said it over the phone. That grin she would have. He wished he could have buried his hammer into her face.

Miranda had expressed her disappointment in him, not that he gave a shit. But it would likely mean that she would watch him for a while, at least while she had time to spare. Preparing that stupid ceremony would take her a few days at the very least. And in that time she could do anything.

He slammed his fist down on the table. With you in Castle Dimitrescu he couldn’t even entertain himself watching you scramble around the village. Couldn’t taunt you. And he didn’t want to risk working on his army, just on the off chance that Miranda caught wind.

He hadn’t even seen you before that confrontation in front of the castle gate, and he just assumed it was blind luck you’d made it that far.

He’d probably never know how you got on in the Castle, because there was no way you were leaving that place alive.

He looked at the yellow jar on his desk, tempted to just throw it and it’s contents into a pit of molten metal. It would be kinder to the kid than whatever Miranda had planned.

***

You had been shoved in the most stereotypical dungeon in the world. It was something straight out of some Frankenstein-ish novel. Bela had left, promising that she would come back soon to retrieve you for dinner. You had given her your most hate filled look, your eyes promising nothing but violence.

That must have been ten minutes ago, and you were furiously searching the cell. You had found a gap in the wall, and in it a crumpled sheet of paper. You straightened it out, beginning to read.

To whomever is trying to escape this place,

I hope this note will be of some assistance. You don’t know me but you will have to trust me if you want to survive.

First, you need to get out of this cell. Look around for the way, get on your hands and knees if you must.

Then, search for the thing you’ll need to

escape. It will be hidden where they’ll

least suspect, soaked in blood.

The rest of the note was illegible, at some point being soaked with dry blood. You hoped that whoever had written it had gotten out.

You took the notes' advice, getting on your hands and knees. There! Under the wooden board attached to the wall there was a hole that you could crawl through. You got on your belly and went through, ending up in the next cell. You tried the door, and to your relief it opened.

You took your gun out of your boot, preparing to go into the dungeon deeper for your way out.

***

Monsters had patrolled the dungeon. Horrible emaciated monsters that held swords. The first one you had encountered held a sword, and you shot it with glee, picking the sword up. A perfect chance to conserve ammo. It was in good condition too. You sliced and hacked your way through, making it to the second part of the dungeon. You could see the stairwell at the end. Your heart soared. At least until you had to wave a fly out of your face.

“I can’t believe Cassandra caused all this mess.”

Bela. Part of you wanted to turn around and fight her, but you were sadistic not stupid. Bullets against a swarm would be pointless. Instead you ran for the stairs, shooting up them until you came to an entrance that was boarded up. Because of course it was. You attempted to hack at the boards with the sword, but it was already too late.

“Where are you going little one?”

“Oh for fucks-”

You turned to be confronted by Bela, her white teeth stark against the drying blood coating the lower half of her face. She picked you up by the neck again, throwing you through the wooden boards. You lost the sword to the far wall, instead bringing out your handgun as she mounted you, desperately trying to inflict some damage on her even when you knew the bullets would be useless. She just laughed at you.

“Bullets cannot harm-”

CRACK.

You both looked off to the side, just in time to see a window shatter and let in all the cold air. She jumped off and you skittered back, getting to your feet. She was. . . solidifying, only a few lone flies breaking away from her before the cold killed them.

And she was angry.

“You stupid-”

You shot her.

She reeled back in pain, screeching. You smiled, and shot her again.

She charged at you, raising her sickle over her head to slice at you. You ducked away from her and grabbed your sword, swinging it to block her next swing. You kicked her in the stomach, putting some distance between the two of you. Then you shot her again. And again. You could tell that she was almost done. One more bullet or swing of the sword and she’d probably shatter.

You put your gun down on a table, the sword following it.

She was doubled over in agony for the moment, but she still managed to look at you with eyes filled with hatred. The perfect mirror of the look you had given her when she had tossed you in a cell. You laughed at her again, the sound ringing right through the room. You didn’t care if it could even be heard throughout the castle. The daughters had a weakness, and if they wanted to fuck around and find out how you could exploit it then that was their problem.

“It’s funny how things just switch around isn’t it?” You asked her between manic bursts of laughter.

You charged at her suddenly, tackling her to the ground. She wasn’t nearly as strong as she had been. She clawed desperately at your thighs, screaming again as the force she was using caused them to begin to crumble. It was childish, but you got a grip on her hair and pulled as hard as you could, laughing at the screams she made as cracks spiderwebbed down from her hairline down to her eyes. Then you reeled your fist back, gave her one final smirk, and punched her in the face. Her head practically exploded into pieces. You felt yourself drop to the floor as most of her crumbled. Except for one thing. The upper half of her torso had crystallized into something beautiful. You picked it up, wondering if the Duke would buy it.

***

As it turned out, the Duke had his own special room in the castle, and he did buy the torso and the sword. You also managed to retrieve your backpack. It turned out that that medicine was bordering on magical, as the only thing left of the horrible bite Cassandra had left was a scar. Even Daniela’s hickeys were gone.

To your chagrin, if you wanted to open those double doors in the hall you were going to need four masks. The Duke provided the first one, The Mask of Sorrow. He had winked at you, telling you that this would avoid another encounter with the Lady. But when you had asked for his explanation about the events in the village, he simply told you he didn’t have it all yet, but he would at your next encounter. You thought that was bullshit. But you gave him the benefit of the doubt.

And now here you were, reaching for the animal's skull off the wall, hoping that maybe it would have the solution to opening that grate without having to replace the mask.

“I was worried my sisters had gotten to you first.”

Fuck. You froze. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She was by the door. You looked around the room, desperate to find a solution. You had only narrowly escaped her getting into the room. Trying to get past her while stuck in here would be impossible. Then you felt it. A draft. There was a gap in the wall being concealed by a bookshelf. You moved it, looking around for Cassandra. She was still by the door, taking her sweet time getting to you. You examined the gap. There was no way this was going to be enough to petrify Cassandra. Then you remembered the weight in your pocket. You had picked it up in the dungeon. A pipe bomb.

You felt the air shift, and had just enough time to duck as Cassandra swung at you. Taking cover on the other side of the room, you threw the bomb and covered your ears. Cassandra screamed at the bite of the cold air, somehow being louder than the initial boom the bomb had made.

“You’ve ruined the hunt!”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you said happily. “I’m having tons of fun.”

You pointed the shotgun at her as she charged, unloading it into her face. She stumbled back. And you did it again, not giving her time to recover. The shotgun was much more powerful than the pistol had been taking care of Bela, so it wasn’t long before Cassandra was at the same stage Bela had been before you had killed her.

“I take it back. That was kind of disappointing. I thought you’d have more in ya.”

And you don’t know if she just realised she was dying, or if she just wanted to kill you so bad that she threw common sense out of the window, but she charged at you with her weapon raised. You didn’t even move out of the way, just caught he raised wrist and squeezed. It crumbled beneath your hands. She tried to hit you with her other wrist only for you to do the same thing.

“Mother!” She cried out with all the emotion of a scared little girl. “Mother!”

You grabbed her by the front of her dress, letting her see into your eyes. Letting her see the toothy grin you were giving her that was more like a snarl. The irony of the situation struck you. Whereas it would have been her eyes brimming with cruelty and madness before, now it was yours. But you had never been afraid. Not for one second. But she was. And it made you grin even wider.

She called out for her mother again as you dragged her to the wall. You kissed her on the nose, giving her a smile that someone might give a lover, and used all your innate anger and cruelty to shove the bitch against the wall.

She shattered, leaving behind only that crystallised torso.

***

His sister had said she would call Miranda when the outsider had been killed. Well, her words were dealt with properly. Emphasis on the properly apparently. Miranda was supposed to let the rest of them know when the outsider had decided to stop being a nuisance and finally bit the dust.

But no call came. From either of them. Hell, Heisenberg hadn’t heard a goddamn thing from anyone. So. . . was the outsider still alive?

He had to admit, he didn’t expect that.

Maybe he needed to change up his expectations.

***

“So you finally came to see me?”

The final daughter. Daniela. You would have preferred not to deal with her right now, given that her mother had just surprised you and evading her through her music hall had been no small task. She had been angry and seething with bloodlust. You supposed she had learned about the deaths of her older daughters. The fact that she had sent Daniela up against you after you had proved that they were practically useless against you wasn’t scoring Dimitrescu any good mother points.

You shot at the window above. But it refused to break, and the swarms had blocked the doors. You looked around, noting that on the other side, on one of the pillars was a handle.

“Everyone always falls for me.”

You ran around her, gripping the handle and swinging it down with all your might. She screamed in agony, running to get out of the direct frozen wind. To your dismay the handle slowly turned up. Who designed this?

She was running through the bookshelves, trying to hide from you. So deranged, but slightly smarter than her sisters it seemed.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why am I- Why are you doing this?!” you retorted.

You pumped the handle down again before chasing her, shooting her in the back. She darted around a bookcase, circling around you and trying to get the jump on you. But you were ready, giving her another one. You were beginning to get bored of these sisters.

“You three don’t really put up much of a fight do you?”

“I thought you loved me,” she snarled.

“What the fuck has that got to do with anything I just said?”

You shot her again. Then once more for good measure. You got up close and used the butt of your shotgun wo hit her in the stomach, forcing her back.

“I don’t wanna die,” she cried out, almost begging you not to go any further with the tone she was using.

“Well you know, neither did anyone in this village or this castle but shit happens I guess.”

You threw the gun down and got a grip on her throat, dragging her to the handle where you pumped it down again. Her attempts to get away from you and out of the cold were desperate, but you maintained that grip on her neck. Slowly, your grip tightened, and you thought you could see the beginning of tears in her eyes as cracks started to multiply on her throat. You did it slowly, savouring the way her throat gave under your hand. The window was nearly shut now. You blew her a kiss, then you balled your fist, crushing her throat completely.

The window shut.

***

“The entire bloodline of House Dimitrescu is done in by the likes of you?”

You smiled at her, even as she stalked you with her claws out. She had caught you while you were figuring out which mask went where. Luckily, being so big meant she was slow.

“Damn right it is.”

“Have much blood and sweat do you think it took to raise those daughter?” She swiped. “You have incurred an impossible debt!”

The genuine sadness and pain in her voice was something that might have swayed someone else, but not you. Not after the Duke had explained what those monsters in the dungeon had really been. Not when you knew the secret ingredient of that wine. Not when that scream rattled around inside your skull.

“What? You want me to feel sorry for you? Want me to get on my knees and beg for forgiveness while you slice me apart? How many daughters have you murdered and turned to slaves?” You slotted the third mask in before darting just out of her reach. “You didn’t consider how many fathers and husbands you bled dry in your dungeons. Your daughters deserved to die! You deserve to die! None of you get a free pass just because I’d have sex with you!”

She made a noise of disgust and sliced downwards, narrowly missing you. You darted to the last statue, putting the mask in. The door opened and you bolted.

***

You pushed open the coffin, finding an old corpse clutching a beautiful knife. You picked it up, testing the weight. That is, before you were spun around and lifted by the neck again. Evidently this family had a choking kink.

“You ruined everything!” She screamed.

She got ready to plunge her claws deep into your stomach, but you were faster, instead driving the knife into her chest. She screamed, throwing you through the window behind you. You accidentally let go of the knife, and it tumbled off the side of the building.

You looked back at Dimitrescu. She was in pain, and obviously weakening. But large, fleshy wings sprouted out from her back, a tail soon following.

And then she was crashing through the wall, nothing but a female torso and head on the back of what looked like a dragon straight out of one of your nightmares.

“Flesh! Bones! I will devour all of you!”

“Bring it on, bitch!”

***

“Curse you.”

And those were her last words. It hadn’t been easy, but you had done it. And you smiled at her as you did so. Given that same demented smile you’d given her daughters. You still wore it.

You looked around, still half mad from the bloodlust. The only thing of note was a yellow flask, so you snatched it up, grinning even wider as the wall opened into the outside.

***

Dimitrescu was dead. Heisenberg grinned. Well, he certainly didn’t expect to watch you walk out of the castle through the camera he’d placed in the area. He hadn’t even expected you to have lasted five minutes, but evidently you were made of sterner stuff. He was impressed.

You were covered in the dust of her dead daughters, as well as Dimitrescu's own blood. It made your damaged clothes cling to your form, and as you got closer he could see the grin you were wearing, could see that deranged look in your eye. And then you looked up at him. Not just at his camera, but at him. As if you knew he was watching. Your grin turned into something else, and you brought your palm to your mouth, kissed it, and then blew the kiss at him.

He didn’t expect that to get his blood pumping. Didn’t expect watching you walk away coated in blood get it pumping even harder. What was this feeling? It wasn’t fear. It was almost like adrenaline. Almost like-

He looked down at his lap. “Fuck.”

He needed to talk to you. He would talk to you.

Hopefully he could lick the blood off of you after.