#i woke up and this was the first coherent thought i had

[auriannaventiwithcaramel]

nerdy prudes are bi

nerdy prudes are bi

every nerdy prude's into girls and also guys

bisexuals arise

not really a surprise

nerdy prudes, whether king or queen

or in between

you're in their dating scene

[fanatic564]

Someone: I thought bats don't kill.

Alfred: I am not a bat. I am simply a friend with a shotgun.

[evevoli]

happy father's day to the dead dad in welly boots only tbh

[dragonartist56]

RIP 2020 DreamSMP you would’ve loved Karma by Jojo Siwa🫡

[thethingything]

we have an especially bad migraine where I noticed us getting aura (mostly being pissed off and upset in a specific way) for several hours before it started and we've taken pain meds but I'm not sure they've actually helped. they have definitely given us side effects though and I feel very spaced out and nauseous and generally shit.

we've also had way worse ADHD symptoms for the last few days to the point of being pretty much unable to focus on anything besides like 2 things we've hyperfixated on. we've had so much trouble starting tasks and keep struggling to hold a train of thought or focus long enough to even figure out what we need to do each day despite having all our Habitica dailies to tell us.

our brain is all over the place and I'm not really sure what to do with it or what would help but it's just occurred to me that sometimes our ADHD gets really bad in the buildup to some of our worst migraines and now I'm just hoping that both the migraine and other shit ease off soon because I'd like to be able to function

[emma-is-swaggy-and-epic]

So you know how she-ra and he-man are canonically siblings in the original cartoons? (Twins iirc)

Now i've never watched the original shera OR the reboot so as far as i'm concerned, they never bring up heman in the reboot

....do you think that somewhere in the reboot universe, there's just a version of heman and the gang just hanging around doing god knows what.....do you think they'd all be equally as gay as the shera cast????

[suksatoru]

it's half past midnight when you hear the first telltale sign that someone is trying to break into your apartment. the shifting footsteps outside the front door were too loud to ignore, there was the unmistakable sound of someone breathing, and then came the dreaded, incessant jingling of the door knob.

dabi kept an extra pair of his combat boots outside your apartment door to scare off anyone from even attempting to break in when he's not around—you'll be sure to tell him his little trick did in fact not work if you manage to survive this entire ordeal.

dabi was a pretty resourceful boyfriend. he had given you some... questionable self defense weapons. prioritizing your peace of mind, you didn't ask him where he got the illegal artillery from and simply tucked it into the back of your coat closet (the world was a scary place, you weren't an idiot who would turn down extra protection).

and thank the universe you didn't, because now you have a bat with a bunch of nails tacked onto every square inch of its surface to, hopefully, fight off your intruder. your fingers tremble as you dial dabi's number, hearing it ring before it goes straight to the automated voicemail—anxiety prickles in your stomach, and you flinch when you hear the door knob shake even harder than it was before.

just your luck. tightening your grip on the bat, you take a tentative step backwards to keep yourself out of sight in case the door does cave in and open.

"the one time he isn't home," you mutter wearily under your breath before quietly gasping when you hear something scratching against your doorknob���it takes you half a second to realize the perpetrator was picking the lock, because it suddenly snaps off its latch and opens with a horrifying clink!

the door doesn't open. not for a heartbeat, at least. but the moment it does, you swing the bat as hard as you possibly can—throwing all your body weight into the hit.

dabi had less than a second to duck out of the way.

you miss—or in other words, he avoids getting his face bashed in by a single millisecond as the nails slam against the doorframe behind him instead.

he's crouched on the floor, eyes wide and a little breathless while you stand above him, completely stupefied

"dabi?" you shriek, half relieved and half mortified as you let go of the bat still stuck in the wood, gently pushing his boot with your slipper clad foot in questioning

"at least i don't have to worry about leaving you alone on missions as much," he says, eyes simmering with amusement and fatigue as you sputter, trying to string together enough words to form a coherent sentence

"what the hell! wha—how—why would you scare me like that! you have a key, you asshole! use it! a-and i called you! why didn't you pick up?!" you snap, delivering a swift kick to his shin as he hisses through his teeth, grin wide and toothy as he stretches his legs out in front of him, making no move to get off the floor

"first of all, my phone got crushed in a fight. second, i accidentally melted the key—don't ask me how. and third, the reason i picked the lock was because i thought you were asleep. i just wanted to come in quietly without waking you up. what the hell are you doing awake, anyway?" he muses, slumping a bit against the wall as you stay quiet.

with a sigh, you close your front door shut and make sure to lock it properly before lowering yourself onto the ground beside him. he smells like smoke, and there's dried blood on his pants. it doesn't stop you from pressing yourself into his side and dropping your head onto his shoulder

"you woke me up," you murmur, and he scoffs

"as if. i was as quiet as a mouse. you just have freakishly good hearing senses," he says with a breathy chuckle as you frown

"i could've seriously hurt you with that bat. can you please try and give me some sort of a warning next time? i don't think i'd be able to live with myself if something happened to you."

dabi doesn't answer for a while. he's staring straight ahead to where your bedroom door is left ajar, the warm golden light of your lamp spills into the hallway and illuminates it in a soft glow that looks like sunshine

"it's gonna take a lot more than that to kill me."

silence settles over you two, and dabi takes a split second to glance at you through his peripheral vision—you have both of your arms wrapped around one of his, and your brows are furrowed as your eyes remain closed.

he glances up at the bat, still jammed into the door frame, thanks to the nails, before he grins.

"it's pretty sick, huh? that bat's gotta be one of my favorites. and you have good aim—pretty lethal combination, if you ask me.

"dabi," you scold tiredly, but he just brings a finger to your lips

"shh shh, don'cha think you've yelled enough? do you want another noise complaint from those nosy neighbors of yours? can't say i could fault them this time, though—it is pretty late."

your lips settle into a pout, and you grumble quietly under your breath as he tucks an arm under your knees and behind your back before standing up

"come on. i'm tired as shit—and bloody. i'll shower and join you in bed, all right?"

you don't say anything, simply nodding as he carries you to your room. he settles you onto the heap of blankets before heading to your shower.

normally, dabi would've just passed out the second he got home. but he didn't want you laying in filth. so, here he was—scrubbing himself down and hopping out of the shower after another ten minutes to see you curled up under the blankets.

it had been a horrible couple of weeks for him. fighting in terrible conditions and sleeping in even worse—but coming home to you was always something that made the torture bearable.

he slips into bed after turning off the lights, and you instinctively move to hold him. your arms wrap around his middle and your head falls on his chest. a warm palm slides under your shirt and settles onto the planes of your back a moment later

"next time, i'll sneak in through your balcony. be the perfect knight in shining armor for you—i don't think you'll have enough time to grab the bat by the time i get in."

you don't open your eyes, but your lips stretch into a small smile that has dabi grinning widely

"missed you," you murmur with a yawn as he hums, staring up at the ceiling

"go to sleep. i'll be right here when you wake up, promise."

once your breathing evens out, dabi peels himself out of your embrace as quietly as he possibly can. he takes a quick walk around you apartment—ensuring all the windows were closed, the front door was locked, and no one suspicious was lurking outside before he re-enters your room and slides back into bed.

he finally lets himself fall asleep, and it's the best sleep he's had since he left you.

it's not because of the air conditioning, it's not because of the bed, and it's not because he'd gotten to take a shower—really, the only reason he was able to fall asleep peacefully was because he had you with him, tucked into his side and in bed, right where both of you belonged.

[lightwing-s]

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x reader

It must’ve been early when the knocking woke you up. Rolling in the warmth of the bed, you struggled to get up and once you did, you walked towards the door on pure muscle memory, still too tired to proceed with any coherent thoughts.

You opened it automatically, rubbing your heavy eyes and letting out a yawn.

“Ghost, Price and I were thinking that maybe…” you heard a voice you faintly remembered blurt out words you vaguely put together. “Yn? What are you doing in Simon's room?”

Freezing at the spot, your eyes dart open, as wide as they could possibly be, and a burst of energy runs through your body, making your mind jolt alight, finally deciding to work.

“Fuck.” you whisper, as you could hear the sound of objects falling and stumbling steps rushing to your side. Simon, still shirtless, holding up his loose sweatpants and whose mask had been clumsy put on, only one of his eyes properly fitting through it’s proper hole, arrived beside you breathlessly, pulling Gaz into the room and closing the door immediately thereafter.

Pushing the Sergeant onto the unmade bed, it took him a moment to catch his breath, spinning around on the same spot on the floor. He had fixed his mask, and the moment his eyes caught yours you could clearly understand his message.

We’re fucked.

Your eyes were restless, moving from Simon and Gaz so quickly it was making you dizzy. Your hands tugged at Simon’s shirt, dressing you like a dress, but barely covering your legs, ones you were not used to exposing in front of your comrades.

It was awkward, this whole situation an awkward mess you had put you all in.

I’m sorry, you mouthed and pleaded with your eyes as Simon stopped in front of you, his hands reaching for your arm, rubbing it warm, consoling you as much as he could as you two sulked in unwanted company.

“Can you two explain what’s going on?” asked your “guest”. Exchanging glances once more, you two fought over who would break him the news. “Or am I supposed to make my own conclusions?”

“‘S pretty obvious, innit?” Simon replied, dryly.

“I wanted to hear it from you, it looks too surreal.” he said, leaning back and straightening his position, a smirk spreading on his face, amusement evident in his eyes. “The Lt and Yn shagging.”

You looked back at Simon once more, his arms crossed on his chest making his biceps look twice their size, and his clear crunched jawline, probably planning three hundred different ways to murder his teammate. Touching his shoulder, you asked for allowance, watching as he considered the options before nodding in return.

“Gaz.” you called, catching his attention. “We’re married.”

Gaz’s head bobbed forward as his eyes almost jumped out of its socket, questioning the shocking news and his own reality. To confirm your words, showed him your hands, more specifically your ring finger, where a pair of letters, ‘SR’, were tattooed secretly on its side. The Lieutenant followed suit, uncrossing his arms to expose your initials drawn on the same spot in his ring finger. 

You two were married. Married, and no one in the base knew it. Hell, they didn’t even know you two had a thing for each other, was going through Gaz’s mind.

“Married?” he repeated, more an affirmation than a question, trying to process it in his head. “I can’t wait till Johnny knows it.”

“Johnny can’t know it.” you immediately cut him. “Please, Gaz. I-it’s…” private, you wanted to add, our lives. But a lump in your throat caught you, feeling everything you’d build crumbling down. 

You’d been so careful. You and Simon had taken every possible precaution since the first night you hooked up, not wanting anyone to find out your silly “mistake”, to the day of your wedding two years ago, the most important day in your entire life. And now the secret was done for, days counted even if Gaz were kind enough to keep it to himself.

“Private.” Gaz completed your words after a brief minute of silence, and the hope in your chest grew. “I get it. You know I’m not a snitch.” Standing up, he continued. “Your secret is safe with me.” and extending his hand towards your husband he wished. “Congratulations, Simon.”

Your husband, after second thoughts, shook Gaz’s hand in his, evident force used to make sure a warning was heard: you say anything, you’re dead. However, knowing him like no one else, you notice signs no one would, and the slight drop in his shoulder lets you know he trusted his Sergeant.

“Congratulations you too, Yn.” he turned to you, giving you a tight hug instead, lifting you off your feet for a brief moment before returning you to the floor. “Does this make me the best man over Johnny?”

Fishing for a pillow, Simon threw it straight into Gaz’s head as he rushed out of your room, giggles heading out with him. You too stood laughing, enjoying knowing your secret paradise wasn’t done for yet, and trying to calm down your sulking and annoyed husband.

.

a/n: short drabble to announce i'm now taking simon and other cod men requests ♡

[tweetybaird]

JJ and John B have shared everything since they were 8

~~~

this is just a lil something i was thinking about this morning and figured i could write to ring in the new year. it’s kinda short sorry😭

Smut!!! MDNI

they’d figured it out very quickly - how to share things. john b shared with jj because he could, jj shared with john b because he had to. they both knew this and were perfectly fine with it.

the first time jj slept over at the chateau they shared the bed. jj was supposed to sleep on the couch but there was a thunderstorm roaring outside, and the noise terrified him. jj poked his head into john b’s room seeking comfort and before he knew it he was waking up, cuddled so closely to john b in his small twin bed that it was hard for them to decipher where one ended and the other began. it became instinct at that point. every morning that they woke up together (which was almost every morning, as long as jj snuck back into his home before his dad awoke) john b would give jj his clothes to wear, and jj would give john b a hat to borrow. they shared a plate at breakfast when food was low, shared toothpaste, and of course all of john bs toys were jjs as well. and as they grew older they shared bigger things, such as their vehicles, beers, their surf boards, girls.

so it should come as no surprise that they had to share you. john b never understood how jj bagged a girl as pretty as you, but he couldn’t think too much on it right now. couldn’t think at all really. your back was pressed against his chest, arm reached behind you to jerk him off. your legs were spread wide, jj’s strong hands pinning your thighs to the bed as he ate you like a man starved. you didn’t think he could get any deeper, but john b reached out anyways, placing a firm hand on the back of jjs head and pushing, forcing jj to press even further into you. you wanted to pull away, worried that the blonde couldn’t breathe, but by the time you could grasp a coherent thought you were cumming. your juices spilled all over jjs face, meanwhile john bs hand kept him pressed into you, giving the blonde no where to go, not that he would’ve pulled away if he could. your hand kept stroking john bs thick cock even as your orgasm rushed through you, and he soon was cumming too, release spilling over your back. it was lucky your long hair was pulled up into an updo, otherwise it would’ve been ruined by john bs massive load.

you were still awake, fighting the aftershocks of your orgasm, but your eyes were fluttering shut. jj took note of this once he was able to pull back from your center, reaching a hand up to swiftly but gently tap the side of your face. “hey,” he mumbled, “don’t forget about me sweet girl. papa j needs some loving too.” he sealed the deal with a kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue before he pulled away. you giggled at his words, body going lax as he picked you up, laying you back onto the bed on your stomach beside john b. jj spread your legs, squeezing your thighs as a silent way of saying keep them open. john b laid down beside you, hand gently caressing your cheek and murmuring words of praise as jj stripped out of his shorts. your eyes had closed once more, relaxing under john bs gentle touch and kind words, but abruptly snapped right back open. jj has his thick cock in his hand, smacking the heavy tip against your clit. you moaned out, making the blonde chuckle. “oh baby,” he began, “i haven’t even done anything yet.” but it didn’t matter. because then he was reaching up with his other hand to grab your hip, the hand on his cock pushing it forward, forcing his way into your gummy walls. “fuck mama,” jj panted out, clearly wanting to say more but being unable to after feeling your wetness around him. the blonde began moving immediately, heavy sack smacking against your clit with every thrust. you were soaked, arousal spilling out all over jjs cock. his eyes rolled back into his head, hips slamming harder into yours. john b reached out, grabbing onto jjs hand to pull the boy back into reality. the blonde smiled gratefully, looking at his best friend, before his head turned towards yours. “‘m gonna fucking ruin you.”

[zorostitties]

Aurora; 12 (m)

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

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

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

rating: 18+

word count: 8k

A/N: HELLO WORLD!! PHEW. It's been a while. I know I'm posting it at a random hour but I needed to get this chapter off my chest. I explained on tumblr why it took me so long to update. To be honest my cat is still in a bad shape and I'm still absurdly worried about her… but oh well, I needed to post this chapter to think of something else for a while, at least. So it'd be very kind of you to leave a comment to help me not freak out about my cat :)

⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist

You’re tired of fighting.

Your limbs are heavy, your throat burns, bruises cover your skin. Still, you try to run.

It’s useless. The two women dragging you inside the tomb are way stronger – unnaturally stronger than a human being should be. You growl like an animal, you kick and try to punch and claw anything on your reach. It’s still useless. The piece of cloth tightly wrapped around your mouth prevents you from speaking anything coherent.

The corridor opens to a big hall. The place is ancient, it is brightly illuminated by many torches. Strange paintings cover the walls and tall columns. There is a platform and something that looks like an altar ahead of you. On their sides, there are tall ceramic vases, five on each side. Sitting at the right side of the altar, there is a statue: the body of a female, the head of a lion, wielding a spear.

There is a woman standing on top of the platform.

A violent shiver runs down your spine. You know that woman… she was the first thing you saw when you woke up. If she didn’t exude cruelty and malice, maybe you would’ve thought she is beautiful: her tall stature, her long curly dark brown hair, her full lips and pink irises… but you know better. There is nothing good about that woman except her appearance.

She wears a similar white tunic as the other women in the hall, but is the only one wearing a golden headpiece, a thick necklace and many bracelets. Her expression isn’t cruel and mocking at the moment like you’ve seen her before. She just looks serious.

And there’s that other thing on the altar, too.

It… it resembles a woman, but you’re not sure: as pale as a cadaver, contrasting with the warmer skin tones of all the other women inside the tomb; its hair is long, straight and red, resembling a lion’s mane. The creature is… strangely tall, its arms and legs are disproportional to the rest of the body. It’s completely naked – you see the rags of what probably was its clothes scattered around the altar.

And it looks sick.

It’s way too skinny. Its ribs are very clearly outlined on the skin. Its cheeks are profound; its red eyes have heavy dark circles around them. Its whole body is trembling, its breathing is irregular. It drools like a sick dog.

And they are pulling you towards it.

After the initial shock, you begin to kick and scream again, but it’s still useless. You don’t want to be anywhere near that thing. It smells awful, it’s uncanny and scary and violently unnatural…

The other woman – who appears to be some sort of leader – grips you by the arm and drags you closer to that creature. She is even stronger than the other two who held you previously. She says something in a language you don’t understand.

You scream again. You try to pull your arm back, you try to claw her–

She squeezes your arm.

An agonizing yell erupts from your throat. Tears well up your eyes. Your legs fail.

You could hear the sound of your bones cracking under her grip.

That creature holds you this time. It pants like an animal. Even through the pain, you try to push it away – but it is useless.

Its long fingers entangle around the hair at the back of your head; it pushes it, forcing your head back and exposing your neck. It open its mouth wide, its horrible fangs approaching…

When it bites your neck, you can’t scream anymore; its jaws completely block your trachea. You gag, your eyes pop wide. There’s a suction noise… it is sucking your blood, you realize with horror. Your good hand still tries to pull its hair, but once again, it is useless… extreme weakness roams your body. The world twirls as every bit of strength disappears. Your head hurts as if someone had just hammered it.

Finally, it lets you go. You fall flat on the floor.

Your vision is blurred and darkening. You can’t move anymore. Your arm and your neck hurt so, so bad. And yet, you have time to see something before completely blacking out.

The creature doesn’t look like a creature anymore… its cheeks are not hollow, its limbs are no longer disproportional, body fat and muscles are visible again.

It is indeed a woman, not a thing.

She sighs contently and stretches her arms.

The world fades away.

Notre Dame’s high vaulted ceiling was indeed impressive.

How long did it take to build such a magnificent structure? How many workers were necessary? Who must’ve planned the building? How did they know that something so big wouldn’t crumble? Who must’ve crafted the beautiful stained glasses that colored the walls as sunshine touched them?

You had no idea.

You didn’t know why you were staring at it, either.

Your senses came back rather slowly. Voices… steps… everything echoed within the cathedral. The place you were laid at was uncomfortable… a wooden bench. One of the many you’d seen previously. Now that the place was properly lit by sunlight, it didn’t look as eerie as before.

Finally, you decided to sit up.

The great hall was full. The benches weren’t perfectly lined as before, which made you remember that Jules and the monks had used them to barricade the doors. You quickly realized that the injured in battle were brought inside the cathedral, where women priestesses wearing black tunics that covered their heads helped them (you heard two distinctive words: sister and nun. Was that the name of their position?). You saw them running from side to side, holding bloody pieces of cloth and water basins. Other civilian women were helping with medical aid as well.

No known face in sight.

Immediate nervousness set in your guts. Where was everybody? Why were you laying there?

This nervousness vanished in two seconds, however, when a familiar voice called.

You turned your head to see Charles, Jules and Henri rushing to where you were. You almost sighed in relief; Jules didn’t look seriously injured and Henri’s right shoulder was properly bandaged, though he still looked way too pale and tired. All of them looked worn out, in fact, with their uniforms ragged in some spots and blood stains here and there.

“Mademoiselle! You’re–“

“You’re awake! How are you feeling?”

“I’ll call for help! Sister! Please–“

You immediately raised your palm in Charle’s direction. “No, please. I am fine. I don’t need medical aid, thank you.”

The three boys sat down. They silently battled to see who would take their place by your side – Henri ended up winning. The other two sat on the bench in front of you, frowning at the ginger boy.

“What happened? Where is Alucard?” You asked.

“You passed out, Miss Ruby.” Charles explained. Jules elbowed him and angry whispered don’t call her by her name, you’re not her close friend!. “Mr. Alucard brought you down. After he checked that you weren’t hurt, he let you rest and left to care for the troops… he told us to take care of you–“

“He told me to take care of you.” Jules hissed again.

“He didn’t address you, we were all present at that moment…”

But their incessant arguing didn’t catch your attention, because you remembered someone and it immediately made your heart race.

“Mizrak!” You looked around, searching for his familiar face between the injured. “Where is Mizrak?!”

They eyed each other hesitantly.

“The monk, isn’t it?” Jules asked. You nodded. “He… he disappeared, Mademoiselle. He just weren’t there when we opened the doors again.”

“He might’ve crawled somewhere else,” Charles tried to calm you down. “There are other points in the city were the injured are being taken care of.”

“He’s a strong man, isn’t he? I-I’m sure he’s alright, somewhere…” Henri didn’t sound confident at all, however.

You instinctively gripped the fabric of your skirt. How could he just have disappeared? No one simply disappears. His wound was beyond serious, it needed immediate medical assistance. What if a vampire had dragged him away, fed from his corpse? What if he died because of you?

Which made you remember something else, for some reason. Your eyes popped wide once again.

“My scepter? Where is it?” Once again, you looked at your sides.

“My” scepter. Why did you claim it as yours so instinctively?

It just… felt right to do so.

“It’s under the bench, mademoiselle,” Henri pointed. You rushed to grab it, almost sighing in relief. Something so shiny would definitely attract thieves if you weren’t careful.

The three boys were engaged in some conversation. They were asking you questions, in fact, about what happened exactly at the top of the bell tower, where did that light come from, but you weren’t paying attention, focusing your eyes on the golden artifact instead.

You had already noticed it before – but the staff had a very subtle cone format. It got a bit thinner on the other end.

You brushed your fingers around it. The scepter… it didn’t look that unfamiliar anymore.

There was a small spot on the base of it, near the sun symbol. You pressed your thumb over it.

And then – the staff retracted.

It emitted a soft metallic sound as the entire length of the staff fit into itself. Now, you just held a disk – the sun symbol – that was a little larger than your hand, with ninety percent of the staff reduced to a small handle.

The four of you went immediately silent in shock.

“Wow.” Jules exclaimed. “How did you do this?”

“I don’t know.”

“It retracted perfectly,” Henri said in awe. “It’s an engineering masterpiece!”

They began to discuss between themselves again, and as much as you didn’t really mind their company, they were starting to bring you headaches. They reminded you a bit of a pack of turkeys – if one made a noise, all the others repeated.

“Gentlemen,” your voice immediately stopped their incessant talking. They looked at your with attention. You held the sun disk with both hands and rested them over your lap. “I didn’t have the opportunity to properly thank you all yet. Without your efforts, I would’ve never arrived here… and I don’t want to imagine what would’ve happened if I didn’t. All of you saved uncountable lives today.” You managed to open a small smile while passing your eyes by each of the three. “Thank you so much.”

They got speechless for once.

You watched as their lips curved up into grins. Jules massaged the back of his neck sheepishly, Charles stuffed his chest like a bird, Henri got redder than a tomato. It was funny how these three were only big in size; in your eyes, they weren’t much far from the other three little boys you met in Paris.

You were also a bit surprised at your own speech. A week ago, you would’ve never even imagined yourself speaking with quiet confidence like that… you didn’t stutter once, which honestly felt great.

Finally, you stood up, being followed by them.

“Do you know where Alucard and the others are?”

Of course they knew. Of course they wouldn’t let you make your way there on your own.

The three guided you outside of the cathedral once again talking incessantly. You resigned yourself to replying with short sentences anytime a question was asked, way too focused on analyzing the destruction of the city. There was blood everywhere. The area around Notre Dame specifically was full of night creature carcasses; volunteers worked on grabbing them to throw them in a bonfire nearby. The streets were crowded as citizens helped clean the city, bring down the rubble barricades, measure the damage, or simply went back to their homes and establishments.

It was strange to see everything under the sunshine… and to think that just one or two hours ago, you were running around these streets, trying to survive vampire attacks, feeling the deepest fear you’ve ever felt – and trying to brush it aside. You had managed to, somehow… something unthinkable for the person you were a week ago.

...Had you really changed this much in a few days, or you were simply allowed to be yourself for the first time in your life?

“...What I’m trying to say, Mademoiselle,” Henri’s nervous voice caught your attention for the first time. He sent an angry glance towards the other two before looking at you with expectation. “D-Do you have a house in Paris?”

“No.”

“Great! I-I mean–“ he cleaned his throat and put his hand over his chest. “If you need a place to stay – to spend the night, perhaps – you are more than welcome in my house. It’s not far from here. We have enough rooms and food for you. A-And Mr. Alucard, of course,” he giggled nervously.

You half expected the other two to offer their homes as well, but they didn’t, to your surprise. They just looked at him with what looked like jealousy.

Before you could answer, you arrived at a great square – and you forgot about the three.

“Excuse me,” you said before rushing towards Annette.

The square had many people walking from here to there, dragging rubble or just watching – but you didn’t care. Annette is alive! More than that, she looked fine. The dark haired girl spotted you as well and rushed, meeting you halfway.

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt? Where is Richter?” You blurted out, immediately searching for injuries with your eyes. Annette chuckled and held your arms delicately.

“I’m fine. We’re both fine. What about you?” She quirked one eyebrow up. “I heard you unleashed some terrifying magic.”

She lowered her eyes to the sun disk you held. You immediately avoided her gaze, feeling sheepish. “Well, I… I don’t really know how to explain what happened.”

Annette shrugged. “Neither do I.”

“Where’s Richter?” You repeated and started to turn around. Annette, for some reason, widened her eyes and was about to hold you back again…

“Wait–“

She tried, but it was already too late.

The first thing you saw was Alucard, standing at a good distance.

He was eyeing you intently. Juste Belmont was by his side – how and when did he arrive in Paris? – wearing an elegant long red coat.

When your eyes crossed his, your entire body froze.

What happened at the bell tower…

It felt as if your entire face was on fire. Heavens, you hugged him – you actually hugged him, you entangled your arms around his neck and cried like a child. You certainly were not in your right mind to do something so… so… so…!

But then, you looked at something else – the thing Annette was worried that you’d see – and all the other thoughts ceased.

Your stomach dropped.

A big bonfire was being formed by civilians bringing rubble; it was more than two meters tall, perhaps. In between the pieces of wood, there were corpses – the vampires that didn’t turn to ashes during the flash of sunlight.

And the biggest corpse of them all…

You instinctively stepped back.

Erzsebet Bathory.

She didn’t look like herself anymore. She was even taller than what you remembered, her red hair longer, her face distorted in animalistic traits… one arm had been chopped off. She had many bruises and injuries. Her cheeks were hollow, her mouth wide open in a perpetual expression of shock and pain.

Erzsebet Bathory was dead.

No mistakes this time, Alucard had said.

The sight of her destroyed, lifeless corpse made your stomach twirl. And once again, you hated the effect this woman had upon you even in death, even with you looking at her in that state. It felt like she would suddenly screech and launch herself at you like so many times before. You could almost feel her claws gnawing your skin, her fangs sinking in your neck…

She is dead. She is dead. She can’t hurt me anymore. She is dead.

Annette’s soft touch on your shoulder brought you back to reality. She looked at you with worry.

“Do you remember what I told you?” She asked quietly.

And when we defeat Erzsebet, justice will be done.

You closed your eyes for a moment and sighed.

“Yes. I’ll… I’ll be fine.” You reassured her. You weren’t fine at that moment, but you would be.

Finally, you spotted Richter walking towards you both. He looked very injured – he had multiple burns on both arms, the sleeves of his blue jacket had been ripped. He was limping and looked very tired, yet still managed to open a small smile to you.

He carried a long piece of wood. The tip had been draped with pieces of cloth.

His small smile vanished. He looked down at you with solemnity.

“You arrived at the right time, Ruby.” Richter looked down at the wood he held. “We believe… you deserve to be the one to do it.”

You finally understood.

That was a torch.

You gulped, your body got tense. Even so, you nodded accordingly. You wouldn’t be able to speak even if you tried.

Richter summoned a ball of blue fire in his hand and ignited the torch. You shoved the sun disk inside your vest and held the torch with both hands.

You took a deep breath before approaching the pyre.

The square stopped to watch the scene.

Erzsebet’s corpse was horrendous, disgusting. You decided to not avoid your gaze from it. You bent slightly, making the tip of the torch touch the wood at the base of the pyre. The fire spread rapidly.

You stepped away and watched.

The people at the square cheered at the sight of the so-called Vampire Messiah burning. Your world, however, was quiet. All you could hear were the sounds of the wood cackling, the flames increasing and consuming everything in the pyre. You watched with attention as the fire consumed Erzsebet’s corpse; it burned her skin, her hair, muscles and bones. And a part of you was grateful to be left alone – Alucard, Annette, Richter and the three boys decided to stand away.

Erzsebet was dead. Definitely.

She used to be your world merely a week ago. Everything revolved around her: your fear, your hopelessness, your hatred, your self-loathing, your confusion. You were just a shadow of a person, an empty fragile shell on the verge of breaking apart. She was your world – and your world was dark, cold, bloody and lonely.

Things were slowly changing now.

You learned that the real world also had place for colors. For kindness, friendship, perseverance and freedom. The real world was not a perfect place, but it was vast; and its vastness for sure should have a place for you somewhere – a place were you wouldn’t be hurt anymore.

At that moment, you decided that you would never cry for her again.

You had already cried enough. She had forced you to dedicate your entire existence for her. You knew that your wounds were way too deep to be forgotten, you knew that the scars that would come from them would be ugly and impossible to ignore. You knew that it wouldn’t be fast and easy to overcome your fears and all the disgusting memories she dug into your soul.

But even so, you decided not to cry.

She had taken enough from you.

When her skeleton was visible, you turned your back to the pyre.

Richter was leaning on Annette for support, his arm resting over her shoulders while she hugged him from the side. You approached them hesitantly.

Annette still looked worried.

“How are you feeling?” She asked.

You looked down at your bloody sleeve.

“Disgusting. I need a bath.” Finally, you lifted your gaze again. “A friend of mine can help us out.”

You quickly found out why the other two boys didn’t offer their houses as well.

Henri was the son of a judge, who was apparently intimately tied to the leaderships of the Revolutionaries. His house was far from being as luxurious as the chateau in Machecoul (you figured that if Henri’s father had a house like that, he’d be next in the guillotine line), but it was still bigger and more comfortable than the average home anyway, located at the heart of Paris.

Henri had offered you (and Alucard as an afterthought) a shelter… but you figured he wouldn’t mind if you brought other visitors as well.

Right?

Well, his father certainly didn’t mind. The middle-aged man thanked Alucard over a hundred times, his eyes gleaming as if he stood in front of a golden statue, babbling how he was thankful for his help. Alucard listened patiently, but you were around him for long enough to start noticing his very subtle expression changes.

You remembered his opinion about the leaders of the Revolutionaries…

Well.

The rest of the group was more than happy to have a place to stay for a while, so there wasn’t really what to argue here.

“Stay for as long as you like!” Henri’s father repeated for the hundredth time while guiding everyone inside. “We have enough bedrooms, enough food… well, perhaps not enough clothes, but I’ll figure it out in no time! Tell me whatever you need and I’ll have it ready. All I have to offer is little compared to what you did to save our nation today!”

Alucard resigned himself to offer him a nod.

Before the white-haired vampire could focus on you, you immediately accepted a maid’s offer to get upstairs and have a bath.

...You didn’t know why you were avoiding him. Not exactly. Perhaps embarrassment? You’d never been deliberately touchy with anyone like that before. Well, you weren’t in your right mind at that moment for whatever reason. Maybe you crossed a boundary? Maybe you went too far? Alucard didn’t push you away, however – but he wasn’t one to be rude anyway… at the same time, it’s not like Alucard wasn’t someone that didn’t know how to establish boundaries. The fact that he didn’t push you away had to mean something, right?

He hugged you back, in fact.

He rested his face on your shoulder and didn’t move.

You felt his hot breath on your neck and his large hand softly caressing your back.

For the second time, he held you until you fell asleep.

Your face was burning hot.

Suddenly, for unknown reasons, you felt as if you were exposed again, as if there was a crowd watching you with scrutiny even though there was no one else besides the maid in the room. You felt burning embarrassment crawl over your skin and it burnt almost as much as the strange magic of the scepter. For the first time in your life, you dismissed a maid’s offer to help you bathe and decided to do it yourself.

And then you were alone in the bedroom, but you still felt strange and exposed and oh heavens you were disgusting. Sweaty, dried blood covered your skin. You got rid of those layers of clothes and sat inside the wooden bathtub – it was smaller than what you were used to, the water wasn’t as warm, there weren’t bath salts, only a bar of soap.

Erzsebet chose the bath salts you’d bathe in. She liked flowery fragrances.

And then you remembered that you still smelled of her, that her disgustingly sweet smell was mixed with the smell of blood and sweat, and then you were scrubbing yourself with the sponge and soap vehemently.

You scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, watching the foam spread over your skin. You scrubbed your arms and chest and legs and stomach and feet. But the smell wouldn’t go away, so you scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. You scrubbed until your skin started to hurt. That pain made you remember the sight of Erzsebet burning in the pyre, the sight of her skin boiling and melting from her bones – which, for some reason, made you scrub harder. You weren’t planning to, but you ended up untying your hair and washing it too, scratching your scalp with soap in frenetic movements because that bad smell was probably in your hair, too.

You scrubbed your own body until you were tired, until the water became actually cold, until your arms hurt from the repetitive movements. You stood inside the tub with water on your knees, the naked upper part of your body shaking in cold, and watched as blood dripped from the scratches you had inflicted on your own thighs. Perhaps… perhaps too much scrubbing. How did that even happen?

You sniffed your hair. Your skin. It didn’t smell of flowers anymore.

Just soap.

So you finally got out of the tub and wrapped yourself in a towel.

When the maid entered the bedroom with a fresh change of clothes, you avoided eye contact with her. She explained that the dress was Henri’s sister’s and perhaps it wouldn’t fit, but she already had a box of threads and needles to make adjustments. It wasn’t an intricate ball gown, but it wasn’t a simple dress either. It had cream and light green tones with pink flowers peppered around the corset and skirt. The dress was light and comfortable. It didn’t require many adjustments.

The maid offered herself to brush and style your hair, to which you politely declined. She probably wouldn’t be aggressive the way you were used to, but… no. Not right now.

When the maid left, you sat in front of the dressing table… and stayed there for a while. Disheveled damp hair fell over your shoulders. It was probably wetting the back of the dress. You didn’t care.

You stared at your own reflection for the first time in days.

The morning Alucard appeared in your life, you were doing just that – watching your reflection. Scrutinizing yourself. You didn’t look different. But, at the same time, there was something different about you – and you couldn’t tell exactly what.

You still had no past or family or name… but you weren’t just a bird in a cage anymore either, nor a lamb obediently walking to its slaughter night after night.

You were free.

It was scary.

What were you going to do from now on? You were actually alone. You owned nothing, and it was pretty clear that in order to survive in this world, you’d need some gold or coins or… whatever the currency was. You couldn’t assume Henri would let you live under his shelter forever and you weren’t innocent enough to not understand what it meant to stay.

You were nobody.

The others? They accepted you because you were a link to Erzsebet’s powers, an upper hand. Now their enemies were dead. They had no responsibility over you… you shouldn’t assume that they would take care of you like you were a child.

As humiliating as it might be, you felt like a child.

What would be your place in this world? Was something expected of you? Would they expect you to get married and have children? Should you find some sort of work? Should you perform some sort of role?

The reflection in the mirror frowned back at you slowly.

A… role?

...

You learned that your blood was valuable to her.

...

“But I am no vampire.”

“No. However, you heal like one. And Erzsebet drank from your blood for a long time, apparently.”

Annette looked at Alucard. “Do you think this was also somehow empowering her?”

The vampire took some moments to answer. “Maybe. We can’t be sure.”

…

That creature doesn’t look like a creature anymore… its cheeks are not hollow, its limbs are no longer disproportional, body fat and muscles are visible again.

It is indeed a woman, not a thing.

…

It took you a long time to realize that there was someone knocking on the door. You got up in a jump and rushed towards it with your thoughts rushing faster than the currents of a river.

It was Henri. He had also taken a proper bath, changed his clothes, and blushed furiously when his eyes fell on your figure. Maybe because your hair was damp and not presentable? Not very lady-like. Perhaps inappropriate. But you didn’t care, the same way you didn’t really pay attention to anything he was saying; his words seemed muffled and distant within the cacophony of your own thoughts.

The bandages on his left shoulder were peeking from under his blouse.

“Henri, would you do something for me?” you interrupted whatever he was babbling before. “But you have to trust me.”

His eyes widened. “O-Of course! Anything for you, Mademoiselle.”

You opened the door wide and stepped aside, pointing towards the bed. “Please, have a seat.”

His face got even redder, if that was possible.

“B-B-But Mademoiselle– it would be inappropriate to enter your room like that, when we’re alone–“

“Please.”

“Of course!”

He rushed in awkwardly as if that wasn’t his own house. You didn’t bother to close the door again – if the idea of being alone with you made him so uncomfortable, it was best to leave it open. Henri sat on the edge of the bed while blinking rapidly for some reason. His breathing also looked irregular. Was he feeling unwell?

“Can you show me your wound?” You asked. Henri widened his eyes again.

“Mademoiselle… hm…”

“Trust me.” You were running impatient.

Henri hesitated, but ended up taking off his coat and pushing his blouse to expose the bandages. You turned around to take something from the dressing table. When you turned around holding a pair of scissors, Henri got pale.

He was a bit of a chameleon.

Henri was about to protest again, but the look you sent him made him gulp and go quiet. You stood in front of him to carefully cut the bandages away and expose the gashes on his shoulder. They were properly cleaned and stitched up, but even so you could still see how horribly that vampire hurt him. If Henri’s head was centimeters closer to the vampire’s claws… he wouldn’t be here right now to change colors anymore.

Henri gasped when you brought the blade of the scissors and cut your own palm.

“Mademoiselle–!”

“Shh.”

He swallowed his words.

You hoped to be right. That had to work.

Carefully, you pressed your bleeding palm over his wounds.

Henri hissed. Your hand moved slowly to spread the blood over the entire surface of the gashes. The sight was unpleasant, to say the least… but it was less disgusting than making him drink your blood.

Please, work. Please, work.

Nothing changed at first.

But then, Henri gasped – and you gasped, too.

Your palm pressed over his wounds – your blood started to glow faintly. It took a strange golden color, as if it became melted gold.

Both of you watched in awe as Henri’s wounds started to heal right in front of your eyes.

He seemed out of breath. He frowned and hissed and you knew he was probably hurting because you knew that feeling. You stood upright and stepped away from him in slight shock.

The threads that were used to stitch the gashes fell over his lap.

Henri touched his own shoulder hesitantly. He pressed his fingers over it, massaged it. There was no sign that it was previously hurt… not even a scar.

You learned that your blood was valuable to her.

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

That was the answer to one of the questions that plagued your existence.

Henri was healed.

Finally, he rose his amazed eyes towards you.

“Miss Ruby… h-how did…?”

Then, he looked at something behind you and got pale again.

You turned around.

Alucard stood by the door, watching the scene with an astonished expression.

You locked eyes. With that simple gaze, you saw that he understood the situation completely.

One piece of the puzzle that hid your mysterious past was solved.

“...Why is he talking funny?” You whispered in Annette’s ear.

She quirked one eyebrow up and looked towards Juste, who stood not far from where you were sitting.

A smirk crept up her lips. “He’s drunk.”

Juste Belmont, Richter’s grandfather who you only saw briefly at his destroyed cottage, swayed slightly as if he stood on water, though the ground at the sides of the Seinne were clearly cobblestones. His eyes were half lidded, his speech slower and a bit difficult to understand. He held a wooden cup full of beer and talked to some unknown men who seemed to be in a similar state as him.

At your obvious confusion, Annette frowned. “Have you never been drunk?”

“I don’t know what that is, I’m afraid.”

Annette looked more confused than you. She eyed the bottle of the (not very good) wine you’d been sharing for the past hour or so. “Well, I’m surprised… given how much you’ve been drinking. You don’t feel anything strange at all? A certain dizziness? A sudden happiness?”

You put your hand over your own stomach and frowned. “No. Was I supposed to?”

She rested her face on her palm. “A normal person would be supposed to… but I guess your healing ability doesn’t even let you get drunk.” A small chuckle went past her lips. “It’s what happens when someone drinks too much of an alcoholic beverage. They lose their senses, get dizzy, sometimes end up saying or doing things they wouldn’t do when they’re sane…”

“Oh.” Funnily enough, you knew how that felt – but it didn’t have anything to do with alcohol… just extreme levels of “sun magic”, apparently. “I didn’t know wine has alcohol. It doesn’t feel much different than juice to me.” You quirked one eyebrow up. “Does juice have alcohol?”

“No. Hopefully no.” She shook her head. It seemed that Annette thought your confusion over some things amused her, much like Alucard. She looked ahead again. “Getting drunk is not always bad, you know. Sometimes it helps you lift your spirits.”

You looked ahead too, back to where Juste and his new friends laughed at the top of their lungs at something you didn’t hear, and silently wished you could get drunk if it’d make you laugh like that.

It was… strange, to say the least, how the night in Paris was so lively. Streets were crowded and well lit, laughter and music filled the air as citizens celebrated. Men, women, young or old – the entire city decided to go outside and have a huge party. It didn’t even seem that a literal war broke out only a few hours ago. Most of the rubble hadn’t even been collected.

It was like no one cared. Which, in your opinion, was a bit heartless, given how many lives were lost. But it seems they were just happy that the person who threatened their freedom was dead.

Well. You should be happy too. More than anyone.

Why weren’t you celebrating with them?

You craved freedom for as long as you could remember. More than that… you craved relief. But turns out, deep down, you never thought that day would actually come, and now that it did, you just didn’t know how to react. So your body and feelings just decided to freeze in this strange state.

The others seemed happy – well, maybe except for Maria, the blonde girl in pink. She talked a bit with Annette and Juste, but resigned herself to be quiet most of the time with perpetual melancholy over her features. From what you knew, Maria had lost her mother the day you met Alucard, so her actions were understandable.

Richter bounced back between talking to Juste and Annette. The black haired girl still seemed a bit apprehensive about something, but other than that, she was much more relaxed than what you’d known of her. And Alucard… he was somewhere. He left the house with everyone, but quickly got caught up in conversation with some generals you’d seen before.

So there you were. Sitting on a bench with Annette by your side, watching Paris celebrate the death of the Vampire Messiah, while you felt that you couldn’t even move.

It was overwhelming. And a bit uncomfortable.

Turns out you hadn’t really gotten used to crowds… it seems it’s not something that would change over just a few days. Many men you met the day before came to greet you with wide smiles in their faces (now that Annette had explained, you figured most of them were probably drunk too). Of course, you were happy anytime you recognized a face – one more soldier that hadn’t fallen. But at at some point… you didn’t want to talk anymore, or force smiles, or try to pay attention to whatever they were trying to say.

So you decided to sit with Annette for a while in this somehow hidden spot. It seemed she didn’t want to mix with the people as well. You wondered if it had anything to do with what Alucard explained about her past and her homeland…

Which made you remember something else – something you’d been hesitating to ask.

You straightened your back and cleaned your throat. “Hm, Annette… can I ask you something?” She looked at you and nodded. “Do you remember what you said or did while… well… while Sekhmet possessed you?”

She narrowed her eyes and looked down, touching her temples with her fingertips. “Not exactly. I remember what happened while I was in the spirit world… but even these memories are a bit vague in some parts. Like the memories of a dream.” She rested her hand back over her lap. “It’s always like that when I wander there.”

“So you weren’t really here while Sekhmet had your body?” Annette shook her head. Your shoulders dropped in disappointment. “Oh. I understand.”

She tilted her head. “Why you ask?”

“Sekhmet said something strange about me.” You avoided her eyes. Although they shared the same face, Annette had nothing to do with Sekhmet and the feral glare she sent you at that moment. “She said I should not be close to her.”

“What? Why?”

“She didn’t explain. That’s why I hoped maybe you’d have a hint… since you shared a body.”

Annette held her chin in a pensive expression. “...I have no idea, I’m sorry. But if I remember something relevant from when I was in the spirit world, I’ll tell you right away.”

You thanked her quietly and looked ahead again. You couldn’t blame her. Annette had asked how that flash of sunlight happened, how the scepter worked – and similarly to her, you had no answers.

Richter was, once again, approaching with a smile on his face. Perhaps that was the little push you needed to move. Whenever he came around, you felt that you were… interrupting. It wasn’t the first time you felt like that around them, but the situation became a little bit more intense. Maybe you really were interrupting, maybe they wanted some time for themselves but didn’t want to be rude.

So you finally decided to get up.

“I’m tired... I’ll head back now.”

Annette seemed a bit worried. “Do you want me to walk back with you?”

Again, you couldn’t blame her for being worried, not after all she had seen of you – acting like a frightened little mouse all the time. You shook your head and managed to open a small (fake) smile. “No, thank you. The house is just two streets away… I promise to not get lost.”

Annette hesitated… but it seems she understood you wanted to be left alone.

“Okay. Take care.”

You nodded and turned around, not waiting to greet Richter. It also made you feel a bit like that frightened little mouse again, but there was another reason why you felt confident enough to walk these two streets alone. The red string around your right wrist. You decided to keep it there, the same way you decided to take the red disk – scepter – with you wherever you went. The idea of it being taken from you was enough to keep you on your toes at all times.

You walked past couples, families, friends, children – talking, drinking, dancing, running around. You wished you wouldn’t feel this disconnected from their reality. No… it was a bit more complicated than that. You wished you had a family, a real past, more good memories than bad ones. Perhaps if you had these things… you wouldn’t feel so distant or lost or empty.

As much as you’d been avoiding to sleep, you assumed that sleeping right now would ease your feelings a bit.

That was when something very subtle tingled on your wrist.

You looked down in time to see the red string untying itself and falling.

Frowning, you crouched and took it from the floor again. Had you accidentally brushed on someone–?

If anything happens, anything at all, untie this string. Mine will untie, too, and I will rush to you.

Your eyes widened.

You looked around frantically.

Finally – you found him.

Alucard stood alone on one of the many bridges over the Seinne not very far from where you were. He was difficult to find at first, but as soon as your eyes locked on him, everyone else became blurred. He leaned both forearms over the stone railing in a relaxed position; his face held the serenity you were already used to. It’s like he was deep in thought. The soft night breeze played with his white hair. He looked down at the river.

His red string swayed with the wind, too. Untied. He held it between his fingers.

Your heart stopped beating for a second.

You stood there, unable to move, as if your body finally remembered how to feel something, how to not be distant. You gulped, gripped the sun disk a little tighter.

Mine will untie, too, and I will rush to you.

Alucard noticed you were avoiding him. Well, it was quite impossible not to notice. He didn’t make any attempts to approach you (you quite literally ran away from him earlier after the new discovery about your blood). But that… that was a very clear message.

A quiet invitation.

So you took a deep breath, trying to calm your stupid racing heart. Why were you scared? That was Alucard. You knew Alucard. He was never mean to you, never made you feel bad intentionally. You had faced a city full of vampires earlier that day… talking to him was nothing compared to that.

To be truly freed is to not be afraid.

You walked towards him.

You didn’t rush. You held the disk tightly, keeping it close to your stomach, the red string tangled around your palm. It seemed that your heart thundered louder on your ears with every step. It was like the world got blurrier and blurrier except for him.

After what seemed like an eternity, you stood by his side.

Two steps away. You looked down at the river, too.

Silence.

You weren’t brave enough to look at him. Alucard didn’t move, didn’t say anything. But… just like before, his quiet serenity enveloped you, made the celebration noises a bit distant.

It didn’t calm your raging heart this time.

It took you a while to understand that Alucard was waiting for you to speak up first. But he called me here. Doesn’t he have anything to say? Why should I be the one to speak first?!

To be truly freed is to not be afraid.

You gulped.

“I…” Your voice cracked a bit. You felt the urge to jump in the river and drown. “I don’t know how they have the energy to celebrate. It… doesn’t feel appropriate.”

Alucard sighed.

“The grieving families for sure aren’t out here.” Goosebumps roamed your skin when his calm husky voice reached your ears. “France is far from reaching real peace in the next few years… let them celebrate for now.”

You nodded, keeping your eyes glued to the river down there. It reflected the golden lights of the lanterns on the margins beautifully.

Come on, don’t be scared. Don’t be embarrassed. Come on. Come on. Come on.

You took what you had kept inside the sleeve of your dress hesitantly.

“A-Actually, I… I wanted to give you this.”

You turned to Alucard for the first time. He was already looking at you.

He looked down at the carefully folded handkerchief you offered him with both hands.

His expressions changed subtly. At first, confusion; then, surprise.

Then… a small smile.

You cleared your throat. “G-Give it back, actually. Since I ruined yours… I don’t know if it’s the same fabric, but it looks similar to the one you had.”

Alucard chuckled and took the handkerchief with care. When his fingers brushed yours, you felt more goosebumps.

“There was no need… but thank you. It is very thoughtful.”

You managed to smile, but turned to the river again before your face started burning.

With the corner of your eyes, you saw him put the handkerchief inside his coat and lean over the railing again. He was not wearing his cape. There was something different about him… perhaps because immediate danger wasn’t lurking anymore, Alucard felt comfortable enough to actually relax, and it reflected on his body and face.

You taped your pointer finger over the sun disk nervously. “How’s your wound?” You blurted out, desperate to not fall in an awkward silence.

Alucard instinctively touched his left shoulder. “Healed.” He looked at you again. “What about you?”

Oh fuck. He was addressing the elephant in the room – your strange state that made you weirder and braver than usual. Please do not mention the hug. Please please please please.

Once more, you avoided his gaze. “...Back to normal, I believe.” I hope is what you wanted to say, but perhaps it would’ve been a little rude.

“Do you have any idea of why that happened to you?”

You tightened your lips and frowned a bit.

You will burn from inside out.

It’s what the unknown female voice told you.

“I believe… I was doing something wrong at first.” You started hesitantly. “The magic. I was conjuring it in an incorrect way. I think my mistake harmed me. Burning me from inside out.”

Alucard hummed and held his chin.

“So it backfires. Magic so powerful should have its side effects.” Alucard seemed hesitant. “If it harms you… you should consider not doing it unless absolutely necessary.”

“No! It was just at first. I… figured it out later.” The thought made you tighten your grip around the sun disk by instinct. “Though, to be honest, I feel that that specific ritual shouldn’t be used in excess.”

Alucard’s eyes followed your grip. He quirked one eyebrow up slightly.

“I was meaning to ask you about this, too.” You handed him the sun disk right away, to which he took and raised to his eye level. “So the staff retracts. How did you figure it out?”

You shrugged. “It just felt right.”

Alucard grinned while handing it back to you. “It seems you’re remembering a lot of things.”

“...I’m not sure. It’s like I told you before… knowledge. Not memories.”

The white-haired vampire leaned on the railing again and looked into the distance. His expression got a bit more serious.

“I was thinking of what you told me. It reminded me of something.” Alucard seemed to hesitate. “...My parents were doctors. Both of them. My father, specifically, had a bit of a fascination for the mysteries of the human brain. He dedicated many studies and experiments to it. Wrote entire books.” Whenever Alucard mentioned anything about his father, it was like nothing else in the world mattered. You were completely focused. “From his many theses… he got to the conclusion that memories and abilities are stored in different areas of the brain. That could be why when someone suffers from memory loss, they still know how to speak, read, write… they know how to function.”

Your eyes widened at each word that left his mouth. “...Just like me.” Alucard nodded. You instinctively touched your own head. “So maybe this part of my brain is damaged?”

“Could be.”

“But why isn’t it healing back?”

Alucard hesitated.

“I believe we’ll figure it out soon.” You wanted to ask what the hell he meant by that, but Alucard decided to change topics drastically. “Talking about healing… did you tell anyone about what happened?”

Oh.

The absolute shocking news you discovered earlier that day, but that seemed pale at that moment in comparison with your nervousness to speak with him.

“No.” You shook your head. “But I was thinking… Richter’s burns are pretty bad. Maybe I could help him… or maybe if I knew where Mizrak is, I could save him...”

“Ruby.”

He put his hand over your shoulder – which made you swallow your words.

Quiet worry coated his features.

“I understand you want to help. But you should also understand that the properties of your blood are extremely rare and extremely valuable. It will put a target on your head again. So… the less people know about it, the better.” He dropped his hand from your shoulder. “Also… if in order to heal someone you end up getting hurt, I don’t see why you should do it.”

“But I always–“

“I know.” He interrupted you softly. “I know you do. That doesn’t mean you should hurt yourself willingly.” Alucard pressed his lips. “...Blood is life, Ruby. Don’t give your life away so easily.”

You sighed heavily and crossed your arms. “I guess you’re right. Henri knows about it, though.”

“He won’t tell anyone.” Alucard sounded way too certain about that.

It was your turn to lean on the stone railing, You looked down at the river. The pacific sound of the non-stopping flowing waters muffled the other noises – uncountable voices and music. You wondered if Alucard attracted you here on purpose… a place where you could focus on a single calming sound.

And perhaps that calmness gave you courage to ask the question you wanted to ask the most.

“What are you going to do now, Alucard?” Your voice was hesitant. Fragile, even… “Erzsebet and Drolta are dead. Your five year mission is over…”

Of course, you knew he and the others had no responsibility over you. You were well aware. And yet, the simple thought of being left alone frightened you. The idea that Alucard would wake up tomorrow and simply go away, and the others would go back to Machecoul, and Annette would cross the ocean back to Saint-Domingue… all of that was frightening.

You wanted to be free, not alone.

And the thought that you might never see Alucard again was even more frightening.

Should you have been attached to him so easily after just a few days? Was that correct or normal? You had no idea. What you knew was that Alucard was the first person to offer kindness and protection and understanding, and you didn’t want him out of your life so soon.

But that was not up to you.

So all you could do was ask.

Alucard leaned on the railing too. He was closer this time. Just one step away, not two.

“I think I should be making this question.” He said softly. “What are you going to do now that you’re free?”

A dry, humorless chuckle escaped past your lips. That wasn’t funny, however.

“I don’t have a family. Or a past, or a name. I don’t know where I came from or where should I go next. I don’t know why my blood heals, why I can read this language, where did this scepter come from… I don’t know anything.” You hated how fragile and bitter your voice sounded, but that couldn’t be helped. “...Is this even freedom at all?”

Alucard kept silent for long, respectful moments.

Then, he sighed deeply.

“There is only one place in the world where we could decode this language.” He pointed towards the sun disk.

You looked at him with a frown.

“There is only one place in the world where we might find out why you heal… and where does your strange magic comes from.”

Expectation bubbled within your chest.

“What place is it?”

Alucard closed his eyes for a moment. It was just a glimpse, but you had the impression that he didn’t really like what he was about to say.

But then, he opened his eyes to look at you – and his golden irises had nothing but kindness and quiet care, and the lanterns cast a soft glow over his features and white hair, and truly – he was so beautiful that it was almost painful to look at.

“My home.” He tilted his head to the sides. “...What used to be my home, at least.” Alucard straightened his back. “I’m making you an invitation, Ruby.”

Your heart raced. Your mouth got dry. Your eyes widened slowly.

“Do you want to… help me?” You, for some reason, sounded amazed. Why is it? Has anyone been more willing to help you than Alucard?

Alucard smiled and nodded – and, at that moment, with that simple motion, he seemed to ease all the worries of your soul.

“I do. I will. Let’s find out who you really are, Ruby.” Alucard rested his hand over yours… and once again, it didn’t burn.

It warmed.

“Let’s go to Dracula’s castle.”

[novascharms]

teach please me — tutor!reader x soccer player!rafe

reader's life is meticulously planned, from high school to becoming president of the country—she knows exactly where she's headed and every step to get there. but her airtight plan hits a snag when the principal ropes her into tutoring rafe cameron, the school’s star soccer player, who’s failing algebra and at risk of being benched next season. the team needs him on the field, and reader needs the principal’s glowing recommendation to secure her spot at her dream school. balancing her ambitious goals with rafe’s chaotic charm might just throw her perfectly crafted plan off track.

word count — 4.9 chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. masterlist

twelve

tuesday, february 11th

being a good multitasker has always been one of those skills you prided yourself on. it was something you’d perfected over the years, something you needed in every facet of your life—being the responsible older sister, the student body president, the volunteer, the worker. juggling everything, keeping a hundred things on your mind, your to-do list, was second nature. it was just how you lived.

but all of that—every skill, every strategy, every ounce of focus—vanished the second rafe cameron kissed you 38 hours ago. you hadn’t been prepared for it, didn’t know it was possible for someone to completely scramble your mind, to set your body on fire with just the press of their lips. there are about 1,300 nerve endings per square inch of skin, and rafe had somehow activated every single one with that kiss. your brain chemistry had been rewritten, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t undo it.

it didn’t matter what you did, who you talked to, what you watched—you couldn’t escape him. his lips, his touch, haunted every thought, clung to every waking moment. he was embedded in your skin, in your mind, from the moment you woke up to the moment you closed your eyes. even then, your dreams had no mercy.

it only took a blink, and you were back in that room, rafe's arms around you, nipping your bottom lip, feeling his breathe mingle with yours, you could still feel how his chest felt whe you'd rested your hand on it, could still remember that little sound he'd made right before your mom burst into the room.

a little voice in the back of your head whispered the reason you were still thinking about it, why it was still playing on a loop in your head—you wanted more. you craved more, and it was consuming you, gnawing at the edges of every thought. more of rafe, more of that kiss, more of whatever this thing between you was.

"y/n," a sharp voice cut through your daydream, yanking you back to reality. startled, you blinked rapidly, your head jerking toward your english teacher. ivy, who had been carefully scribbling something in her notebook, glanced at you in confusion, noticing your delayed response to the question you hadn’t even heard.

"uh—yes?" you managed, trying to sound coherent despite the fog of your thoughts.

mrs. campbell raised a brow, her gaze expectant. "can you answer the question?" she asked, her tone firm but not unkind.

you cleared your throat, scrambling to pull yourself together. the quiet shuffle of ivy’s book caught your attention, and you glanced over, spotting a small note tucked in the corner. 'meaning quote,' it said, the words a subtle lifeline as your mind scrambled to catch up. your gaze flickered to the blackboard behind mrs. campbell, and there it was—‘so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.’

the words from the great gatsby stood out like a beacon. for a heartbeat, everything inside you went still. the weight of the room—the eyes on you, including mrs. campbell’s—felt like it was pressing down on your chest. but then, slowly, you straightened in your seat, drawing on a sliver of confidence, the reminder that you’d read this book twice now.

“i think…” you started, your voice shaky at first but growing steadier with each word. "he's saying that people are always fighting against things they can't control. like… no matter how hard we try to move forward, the past always pulls us back. our memories, our regrets, maybe even guilt—those are the currents he’s talking about."

there was a long pause as mrs. campbell studied you, her eyes sharp, weighing your answer. finally, she nodded, turning back to the class. "exactly. so what we can deduce from that is—" her voice trailed off as you tuned her out once again, giving a quiet nod of thanks to ivy.

"what's going on?" ivy whispered, her concern evident in the way she leaned in. it wasn’t like you to zone out like that, especially in class. "what did bootleg messi pull now?" she added, her voice light but teasing, and you smiled, turning back to the board but not before giving her a gentle shove. you heard her quiet giggle fill the space between you.

of course, you hadn’t told your friends about the kiss. that would’ve been like asking hazel to strangle you in front of everyone—which, knowing hazel, she’d probably do without hesitation.

you’d made it clear to them, especially to hazel, that you wouldn’t let him in, that you’d protect yourself from whatever this thing was. and yet, here you were—letting him all the way in. the situation would’ve been different if you had any plans to cut him off, but you didn’t. you wanted more. a lot more.

when class ended and you found yourself standing by devon's locker, waiting for her to dig around for her chemistry book, your mind drifted again. was this normal? did everyone feel this kind of almost desperate withdrawal after something as simple as a kiss? it felt ridiculous to admit, but you were completely disheveled by a boy. by a kiss. a damn good kiss.

"ready?" hazel's voice pulled you from your thoughts, her tone a little sharper now that devon had finally shoved her book into her backpack and nodded in agreement. without thinking, you looped your arm through hazel's as the four of you started walking out of school. "did you ever hear back from that angry customer?" you asked absently, your mind still somewhere else.

hazel hummed in acknowledgment, then chuckled, "yeah, she reached out to customer service, and guess what they told her?"

"the exact same thing you told her?" you guessed, grinning, and hazel gave a quick nod, her lips curling into a smirk. "yup," she said, popping the p in ‘yup’ like it was the final nail in the coffin.

your small smile faltered when you stepped outside the building and saw what was unfolding in front of you. "what is going on?" ivy's voice was filled with confusion, and you couldn’t help but feel the same.

rafe and topper were in the middle of what looked like a heated verbal argument. you and everyone else could see the anger between them, but the exact context was lost in the shuffle of their raised voices. their friends had formed a circle around them, trying desperately to intervene, but it was obvious nothing was getting through. rafe kept attempting to walk away, but topper blocked him each time.

on rafe's third attempt, he finally shoved topper, who stumbled but quickly regained his balance. before he could do anything else, kiara stepped in, her face furious as she shoved topper back, shouting ‘enough’ and ‘stop’ in his face with an intensity that made the entire scene feel dangerously close to something more.

rafe took the opportunity to break free, even though his friends were trying to stop him. it was clear where he was headed, though—straight toward you.

hazel's voice was low and confused. "is he coming over here?" she muttered, and you could see rafe’s friends trailing behind him, likely to make sure he was okay.

you started walking toward rafe to meet him halfway, your voice sharp with tension. "what are you doing?" you asked before he even reached you. there was no way he was about to start something in front of half the school.

"come with me," rafe said, his tone brokering no argument, the command obvious in his words. "i'm driving you home."

"rafe—" you tried to protest, but before you could finish, john b’s hand landed on rafe's shoulder, his voice urging him. "rafe, c'mon—"

rafe spun around to face his friend, irritation clear in his expression. "i’m not in the fucking mood to deal with him, alright?" he snapped, not bothering to wait for a reply before grabbing your wrist and tugging you along with him.

"rafe, slow down—" you tried to keep up, your steps faltering as you struggled to stay with him. "rafe, i came on my bike, i can’t just—"

"i'll pick you up in the morning," he interrupted, his voice as firm as steel, cutting off any further protests. before you could argue, he flung open the passenger door, blocking you in the small space between the car and the door. it was clear what he wanted: you had two choices—get in or physically fight this six-foot-tall athlete who wasn’t giving an inch.

his jaw was clenched tight, his posture rigid, and you felt an overwhelming urge to kiss the anger right off his face. you could feel the intensity building inside you, the heat of the moment becoming unbearable. it was that urge—raw and undeniable—that finally made you climb into the car. a few more seconds of standing there, and you knew you would’ve done it, would’ve kissed him and made everything even more complicated than it already was.

he doesn’t say a word as the car hums to life, just starts driving with a tense grip on the wheel, his jaw so tight it looks like it might snap. you're left staring at him in disbelief, the weight of what just happened sinking in. was that real?

you can tell something’s wrong when he moves his hand from the gear stick to the steering wheel, and you notice his hand trembling—just slightly, but enough to make your heart skip. “rafe,” you say softly, your voice almost a whisper as your hand moves toward his. the second your fingers brush his skin, his whole body tightens, and he pulls his hand away like you’ve burned him. “not when i’m driving,” he snaps, the coldness in his tone like a slap to your chest.

you watch him, sadness pulling at your chest, and slump back into the seat, the air between you two thick with tension. only then do you feel the sharp throb in your feet, the pain from the new shoes you’d barely managed to keep on all day. you shift your bag aside and carefully pop your heel out of your patent black ballet flats. they were new, from steve madden, whose shoes were designed with a particular vendetta against women’s feet. blisters were basically guaranteed.

you wince at the sight of the angry bubble forming on the back of your heel, and despite the sharp sting, you already find yourself daydreaming about soaking in a hot bath tonight, the relief already calling your name.

"what?" rafe’s voice breaks through your thoughts, and you look up at him, unsure what he’s seeing. "what? nothing." you frown, sitting up a little straighter.

his eyes flick back to the road, but his tone softens just a little. "you're in pain. you just winced. what's wrong?"

you shake your head, dismissing his concern as you try to shove the discomfort aside. "i have new shoes on. just a blister." you try to brush it off, but when the car stops at a red light, you notice rafe’s eyes flicking down to your feet.

"take them off," he says, almost like an order, but you hesitate. how were you supposed to relax your blistered feet in his car without feeling weird about it? and how was he not disgusted?

"no, that’s not proper. it's okay," you tell him, your voice a little shaky. he rolls his eyes, exasperated.

"you're gonna make me do it?" he mutters, but before you can answer, he’s already leaning across the seat, his hand reaching for your shoes, completely ignoring your protest.

"rafe!" you gasp, startled as you kick your feet, trying to push him away, but he grips your shoe like it’s his personal mission to take them off. the light turns green, and you panic, "rafe, stop, the light turned green!" you try to wriggle out of his grasp, but he’s relentless, fighting you for your second shoe even as the cars behind honk impatiently.

finally, he lets go, and with both of your shoes in hand, he tosses them casually into the backseat as if nothing had happened, his eyes back on the road like the whole scene had been completely normal.

"you know you’re insane?" you mutter after a beat, disbelief creeping into your voice. rafe’s lips press together, his eyes still focused ahead.

"i have very little patience today," he mutters under his breath as he pulls into your street. the reminder of his earlier anger stirs a knot in your stomach, and you hesitate, wondering if you should ask what happened. but you don’t—prodding him further would only make things worse.

he parks his car and you reach behind to find your shoes he carelessly threw to the back but before you can, he's opening the backdoor and grabbing them. you blink when he slams the door shut and leaves you with no shoes.

you're just about to open the door, ready to ask him for your shoes, when the door swings open and rafe scoops you up into his arms. "rafe, what are you doing?" you ask, your hands instinctively wrapping around his neck for support.

"i'm skydiving, obviously." he says flatly and with one swift kick, he shuts the door behind him, then presses the button on his car keys to lock it.

you can't help but grimace at his sarcasm. "you're just being so lovely today," you mutter, offering him a fake smile. he smirks in response, clearly enjoying this. before you know it, you're standing in front of his door, rummaging through your bag for the keys.

"i am, aren't i? and you really don't deserve it since you've been avoiding me," he says, a small edge to his voice, his tone playful but with something else lingering under the surface.

your cheeks flush, the heat creeping up as you finally manage to unlock the door. "i… h—"

"whenever you do that, that subtle hesitation," he interrupts, his voice suddenly serious, "you're about to lie. have you ever noticed that?"

your eyes widen as he gently sets you down on your feet, his words making you feel caught off guard.

"i mean, i'm saying it to help you," he continues, "when you become president, you can't be caught lying this easily."

you let out a soft sigh, the warmth of embarrassment spreading across your face. you cover your face for a moment, feeling exposed. "i'm sorry," you murmur, the sincerity in your voice not lost on him.

he shakes his head, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders, grounding you. "i looked it up. i think it's a defense mechanism."

your jaw drops just a little, surprised that rafe, of all people, has done research for you. research was your thing.

"you don't like confrontation," he continues, his voice calm, "and you don't like dealing with your emotions. you like things you can control and predict and feelings are probably the most unpredictable and uncontrollable things we experience. i think you're willing to do a lot to avoid those two things, including lying."

it’s a strange feeling, to be psychoanalyzed this way, the way you so often do to others. you’re not used to being the one on the receiving end of this kind of observation.

his hands shift from your shoulders to cradle your face gently, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks in a tender, almost reverent way. "i can feel that you're afraid."

"is it that obvious?" you whisper, your heart fluttering as your nose brushes against his, the proximity making your breath hitch.

he nods slowly, his lips just inches from yours. "just can't figure out why," he murmurs, his voice low and soft. then, with a gentle teasing bite, he nips at your bottom lip.

you want to tell him why, to explain the gnawing feeling in your gut that something is bound to go wrong, that eventually, he’s going to break your heart. but you don’t say that. because, well…

you're a liar.

"i've never done this," you begin, your words rushing out in a nervous ramble, "i… i avoided you because i didn’t even know how to look at you anymore after sunday."

your hands fidget nervously, eyes darting around as you feel the panic rise. "i watched…" you hesitate, unsure how to say it. "..adult content yesterday," you whisper it like it's a secret, "and it was so scary. i almost broke my laptop from how hard i tossed it off my bed." your voice is barely above a murmur, and rafe’s eyes widen in amusement.

he starts laughing, shaking his head as you quickly look around, despite knowing no one will be home for another hour.

"you watched po—"

"don't say it!" you hiss, your cheeks burning at the thought.

he’s still laughing, amusement dancing in his eyes as he pulls you close, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "c'mon," he says, his tone light but insistent as he takes your hand. "let’s go."

you let him lead you up the stairs, your nerves gnawing at you. you're unsure what’s next, what’s going to happen between the two of you. but that's what being with rafe always feels like—you never see anything coming with him.

you both settle on your bed, the quiet hum of the room filling the space between you. you sit cross-legged while he turns toward you, his gaze steady and soft, as though he’s trying to convey everything without saying a word. then, his voice breaks the silence, low and calm, like a soothing balm.

he looks at you and the distance you've put between the two of you. “firstly, you have nothing to be afraid of,” he says, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. with an easy pull, he brings you closer until your leg is draped over his, the warmth of his touch grounding you. “this doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to be. i just want you to feel good—feel okay. we’ll go at your pace, yeah? wherever you lead me.”

his words settle over you like a promise, steady and unyielding. you nod hesitantly, fingers nervously fidgeting in your lap. “i think… we can take it slow, right?” your voice is quiet, unsure, as you glance down.

he tilts his head forward, his forehead brushing against yours, forcing you to meet his eyes. “course,” he murmurs, the weight of his sincerity making you exhale softly.

with tentative fingers, you reach up, your thumb grazing over his lips in an almost reverent motion. “i don’t know anything,” you admit, the words slipping out like a secret.

his smile softens, a small, reassuring thing that makes your chest tighten. “m’ here,” he mutters, his hand resting gently on your waist. “i’ll help you, just like you help me.”

and what was the harm in this? something quiet and undefined, not quite a relationship, but not nothing either. it felt safe—like an agreement between the two of you, unspoken but understood.

“like… comparative advantage,” you murmur, your voice still soft but gaining a touch of animation.

he raises a brow, clearly unsure where you’re going with this.

“comparative advantage,” you repeat, lips brushing against his. “it’s when countries—or even people—specialize in what they’re relatively best at. it’s about focusing on what they can produce most efficiently, with fewer resources or less effort, instead of trying to do everything.”

he blinks, his head tilting slightly as he considers your explanation. “you know what i find fascinating?” he asks, his voice carrying a quiet, teasing warmth.

you hum, encouraging him to continue, a small smile already playing on your lips.

“the more you ramble about shit i don’t understand, the more attractive i find you,” he says, his tone light but earnest.

a laugh bubbles out of you, your heart racing as he dips his head, pressing playful kisses along your neck. “tell me more!” he demands, his hands sliding around your waist and tugging you closer.

you giggle, your arms looping around his neck as your mind scrambles to find something—anything—to say. “uhhh… oh! i was just reading about nuclear fusion!”

he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his brows raising in amused curiosity.

“it’s when two lighter atomic nuclei combine to form a heavier one,” you explain, your voice picking up speed. “and it releases a ton of energy in the process. that reaction—it’s the same one that powers the sun and stars. isn’t that wild?”

“so wild,” he hums thoughtfully, leaning in to press a soft kiss against your lips. the gentle contact almost derails your train of thought, but you push forward, determined to finish your point. “and what’s even more fascinating is that the ingredients—deuterium, which comes from seawater, and tritium, which can be bred from lithium—are virtually inexhaustible. it’s sustainable energy, rafe. the potential is endless.”

he hums again, his lips brushing along your jawline, the vibration of his voice sending shivers down your spine. “that’s very interesting. tell me something else,” he urges, pulling you fully into his lap, his hands steadying you like you belonged there.

you can’t stop smiling now, your head tipping back as his lips find the curve of your neck. “mmm… did you know that some theorists believe modern politics has moved beyond traditional ideologies like communism or liberalism?”

“had no idea,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice muffled but attentive, his focus clearly divided between your words and the way you react to his touch.

“they think political life is more about pragmatic management and technocratic governance now,” you continue, your voice gaining a touch of excitement. “and like, look at italy or greece. during their financial crises, they elected experts—economists, and engineers—as politicians. moving toward different kinds of ideologies has such detrimental changes for people like you and i so the fact that it's actually happening just blows my mind. isn’t it crazy?”

he pulls back just slightly, his lips quirking into a lopsided smile as he meets your eyes again. “crazy,” he agrees, though the glint in his gaze tells you he’s not entirely focused on the politics you’re rambling about.

but you don’t care. because in this moment, heaven looks like a boy who lets you ramble about the chaos in your mind while kissing you silly and what could possibly be better than this?

"how does your brain store so much?" he mutters, his voice low and laced with genuine curiosity. his fingers brush absently against your skin as he pulls back to look at you.

you grin, shrugging lightly. "i think it’s easy to remember things you find interesting. how many soccer players do you know by name?" you counter, raising a brow.

he nods with a lopsided smirk, conceding the point. "got me there," he murmurs, his gaze lingering on you. something shifts in the way he’s looking—soft but heated, like he’s cataloging every detail. his hair is tousled from your hands, his lips swollen from the past few minutes of losing himself in you, and those dark, dilated pupils seem to see through you entirely. he looks utterly undone and so painfully perfect that it makes your heart stutter.

you hesitate for a moment, nerves battling the growing pull toward him, before slowly shrugging off your knit cardigan. the weight of his eyes doesn’t falter as you tug the fabric from your shoulders. it’s not the cold air against your skin that makes you shiver—it’s him, the way his gaze turns unreadable, intense.

as your fingers reach for the hem of your shirt, you lift it inch by inch, exposing your tank top underneath. you tug it into place as the strap—too loose and stretched from wear—slips down your shoulder. his gaze snaps to that small sliver of bare skin, and you swear you see his jaw tighten.

your breaths come slower, more measured, as you reach up to push the other strap down, your fingers trembling slightly. just as it slips, his hand darts out, stopping you gently but firmly.

"you don’t want—" the words tumble out of you in a rush, panic and self-doubt crashing in like waves.

"of course, i do," he interrupts, his voice immediate, steady, grounding. "course, i want you. i want this." his thumb brushes featherlight over your shoulder as he leans in to pull the strap back into place. the gesture feels like both a reverence and a reassurance, and your chest tightens at the tenderness of it.

"but," he continues, his tone soft but deliberate, "ten minutes ago, you asked me to go slow. and just before that, you couldn’t even handle me saying the word 'porn' in your presence." the corner of his mouth quirks up in that teasing way that feels like it’s meant to defuse the tension.

you can’t help but let out a small laugh, one that eases some of the nerves still coiled in your chest. "mm, okay. true." you slide off his lap reluctantly, preparing to create some space, but he doesn’t let you go far. his hand catches yours, tugging you back into place.

"but," he says again, this time a whisper that dances between the two of you, heavy with promise, "we can do what we did last week…" his free hand trails up, his fingers brushing your hair back. his lips find yours, slow and deliberate, the heat of his touch setting your skin aflame. "and maybe a little more."

his words linger against your lips as he kisses you again, this time deeper, and you melt into him. your feel weak, and you’re grateful for his arms around you, steadying you, keeping you grounded. for now, you’re here, with him, the rest of the world fading into an unimportant blur.

your lips finally meet, and the sensation is overwhelming, a fever spreading through your body as heat blooms beneath your skin. every nerve feels alive, crackling with electricity as your fingers instinctively thread through his hair, your grip hesitant at first but growing firmer as his hands find your waist, pulling you closer like he can’t bear to let you slip away.

the kiss is everything—more than last week, deeper, more intense. his teeth graze your bottom lip, and your body arches toward him involuntarily, a soft whine escaping before you can stop it. he takes the opportunity to part your lips, his tongue sliding against yours with a confidence that makes you melt. you know he can tell you’re inexperienced, his movements deliberate, guiding you like he’s speaking a secret language through touch alone, teaching you how to follow his lead.

as the moments pass, you start to understand—how to move, how to meet his rhythm, how to make it good for him. the realization that you’re succeeding comes when he lets out a soft groan, the sound low and raw and entirely new. it’s exhilarating, uncovering pieces of him no one else has, learning what makes him tick.

you pull back just enough to breathe, gasping softly as his lips trail after yours, placing feather-light kisses that leave you dizzy. before you can steady yourself, he shifts his attention, lips brushing down your neck. at first, you think it’ll be sweet, the same soft kisses from earlier, but you couldn’t have been more wrong.

his mouth turns ravenous against your skin, nipping and sucking with a ferocity that leaves you reeling. your body tenses at the sudden intensity, a flood of pleasure replacing the brief surprise. soft moans spill from your lips, unbidden, and your hands tug at his hair, urging him closer as his mouth maps every inch of your neck.

"rafe…" you exhale, the name slipping out in a breathy whisper as he continues his assault, each kiss igniting something deeper inside you. he’s relentless, leaving no spot untouched, and while your brain tries to remind you to tell him not to leave marks, your body doesn’t care. you’re too far gone, too wrapped up in the moment to consider future consequences.

he has you completely undone, your body pliant under his touch, and when your hips buck against him without permission, he freezes. slowly, he pulls back, his breath heavy as his eyes meet yours. they’re dark, hazy with desire, yet tinged with restraint. "alright," he murmurs, his voice low and strained. "that’s good… think we’re getting a bit carried away."

the rational part of you knows he’s right, but the part of you currently tangled up with the most magnetic boy you’ve ever known? that part couldn’t care less.

"uh huh.." you're nodding as if you agree even though your lips are finding his again, hungrier this time, desperation spilling into every kiss. you can’t bear the thought of letting him go, the taste of him too intoxicating to resist. his hands come to your shoulders, trying to steady you, but the moment he pulls back, the beginnings of a warning on his lips, you silence him with another kiss, deeper this time, pouring everything you’re feeling into it. and for a moment, he lets go—he kisses back with a force that steals the air from your lungs. his resistance crumbles beneath the weight of his own desire, the kind of need that’s buried so deep it aches to surface. his lips move against yours, his hands trailing to your waist as if he’s forgotten why he should stop, as if it’s impossible for him to resist, and he doesn’t—at least, not right away.

you’re insatiable, your thoughts scattered, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. but rafe pulls back again, this time with a sharp, frustrated breath, and gently moves you from his lap onto the bed, standing so quickly it feels like he’s trying to physically distance himself from the tension.

he runs a hand through his tousled hair, pacing toward your desk. "slow," he says, his voice strained, almost pleading now. "we just said slow." the firmness in his tone doesn’t mask the desire still lingering in his eyes, a battle between restraint and something far more primal.

you’re left sitting there, panting softly, your body alight with sensations you’ve never felt before. your mind is racing, flickering like a switchboard as you replay every moment. how were you supposed to be patient now, knowing what his touch felt like, knowing how easily he could unravel you? waiting even a day, a moment longer, feels impossible.

chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap.

taglist — @rafeysworldim19 @my-name-is-baby @pogueprincesa @fveapplestall @chalametlover444 @slutglimreqpers @uarmyhopeworldwide @junxe3 @bakuhoethotski @wintercrows 

let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist & interact with post to remain tagged <3

[g00seg1rl]

Remain

Pairing: Azriel x Eris Vanserra

Summary: Haven’t we all wanted someone to just.. yanno.. sleep with It inside? Eris relates. Az and his large wingspan provide.

A/N: hi loveys, below the divider is 750 words and they are all horny (okay some of them are just bratty and it’s all Eris’s fault 😇)

Biceps strained as Azriel caged Eris’s head with his forearms, his fists dipping the mattress as he rammed his cock forward, hips pistoning powerfully. The angle tormented Eris’s prostate relentlessly. Eris’s unnaturally hot, clenching channel was milking Az for all he was worth, each stroke more pleasurable than the last.

Only a few more thrusts and they’d be wrecked. Four rounds would overwhelm the functions of even the most ethereal fae. He was currently having Eris in a somewhat lazy position, laying his damp ginger hair against silk pillowcase and doing all the work after his beloved had nearly done ballet on his dick for at least two of those undoings.

“Haa- fuck, Eris, coming,” he bit out against Eris’s glistening temple.

“Yes, yesss, come for me Az, give me, harder, more, so good,” Eris goaded Az’s orgasm as if his ass wasn’t heavenly enough to elicit it on its own. A bit overkill really. But eris had always been extraordinarily sensual.

“With me, come with me Eris- fuck, please,” he groaned, trying to prevent post-nut guilt of coming first– or fifth?

“Well, how can I say no? You sound so pretty begging, baby,” Eris praised far too coherently for the position he was in.

Azriel buried himself deep inside Eris’s fluttering hole, his balls slapping almost painfully against Eris’s. An anatomical inconvenience. Worth it.

He spilled, letting go and releasing with Eris’s name on his lips. Eris came with him, painting Azriel’s lower abs in sweltering cum, rarely following an order.

“Fuck- that was…” Az lost his vocabularic reach and began pulling back. The heavenly sight of watching his come drip from Eris’s ruined rim was robbed from him as Eris’s hands pulled on Az’s lower back, grounding him further inside.

“Don’t– don’t leave, not yet, please?” Eris asked, a bit shy.

He stopped his retreating hips, brows raising. “Why would I leave? I’m tired.”

“No you dunce, don’t pull out, I want you to stay inside,” Eris dumbed it down a bit.

Look, it wasn’t Az’s fault his brain was no more than a marsh.

Azriel felt his jaw go slack, huffed through his nose. They’d been doing the debaucherous tango for centuries, why the fuck was this the first time Eris had asked?

“What?” Eris complained, forcing an uncomfortable awareness of how long Azriel had been looking at him like he was crazy for not asking previously. How long had he wanted this?

“What happened to me feeling perfect? You were screaming that earlier–” Ah fuck, he should really say something already, but how could one phrase I want immortal lifetimes marinating inside you without sounding like a freak?

“Of fucking course.” He settled his weight down, melting contently and calling upon the shadows to soften his landing and provide a small cushion, even as he taunted, “But when you wake up to me fucking you, I want a thank you, no whining about being crushed all night.”

Shadows snickered at his posturing as they helped heft him slightly up, still sleek and thin enough for Azriel to feel Eris’s heart thump in time with his, their chests giving and taking space as they breathed each other’s air. Dizzyingly close, or maybe it was the sharing breath thing–

POV switch teehee

Eris woke to soft grunts and shallow thrusts, pleased that Az had stayed and also because he was being fucked. This was hardly the time for differentiating thoughts.

“I know you’re awake, can see you smiling,” the spy astutely observed. Eris beamed brighter as he opened his eyes to a pretty, haughtily grinning Shadowsinger.

“You caught me, spare me the handcuffs please, m’still rather tired.”

“I’ll have to save that for later then, but I was very much looking forward to a thank you after all those pleases last night.”

“You can have your thank you when you make me come again,” Eris reasoned, closing his eyes and giving in to the smile betraying his brattiness. It was quite difficult to seem nonchalant when he could practically hear Az’s eyes rolling. His hips rescinded before slamming back in, and Eris gasped, hands clinging around Az’s neck, bracing for more.

“Conditional politeness, how very you of you,” Az husked, setting a pace competing with a sexually frustrated sprinter.

“Hnmn, fuck fuck fuck, hng, earn it.”

And he did, fucking Eris into the headboard until they were both moaning hoarsely and Eris may or may not have screamed THANK YOU like a banshee.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed !! Thank you @the-darkestminds, I am so so grateful for you, love u mami 😘 and thank you @astro-h0e-4azris for sucking off my ego 😏

Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💗

My Azris babes, @nus4y @jules-writes-stories @fourteentrout @mudandmire @queercontrarian @mistandmemories @iftheshoef1tz @nightsandflamess @chunkypossum @brunetterebel010 @icey--stars @irithiadourden @3xolara @sunstar-drabbles @missblackstar @wovendreamscapes @neciebee @fingerpoppingood @wrraccountant @talibunny30 💗💗💗

[endereies]

BREAK UP DRUG - MS - PART 2

No Nut November - Day 23

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ When you stay over at the triplet's house, you confront Matt

Part 1

“He what.” You were sat down in between Nick and Chris, tears forming in your eyes anytime you uttered his name.

“He didn’t even say why! Just that he couldn’t tell me. Did I do something?” Solemn gasps pass your lips as you begin to sob once more. It didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. Skin had been scratched on your wrists, a sign of the failed grasp you had on him. It was just too much now.

The brothers gave a knowing glance to each other while you sniffled into your jumper. For the first time in months, it wasn’t Matt’s.

“D-do either of you know why…?” The look on your face shattered them, of course they knew why, but like Matt, they couldn’t tell you. “I’m sorry, we have no idea, we can try and talk with him?”

Nick’s voice was promising, a chance to get an explanation, anything. That was enough for now. Chris quickly got up to grab some tissues and chocolate he had stored in the fridge and handed it to you. With gratitude, you smiled up at him. Your voice couldn’t be trusted to be coherent.

Eventually, you fell silent, laying against the cushions of the couch. Sniffles grew quiet and you just stared at nothing. Chris and Nick were alongside you the entire time but they knew you needed space.

“Hey…kid? Do you want to sleep in my room tonight?” Soft eyes looked up to Nick as he offered you a safe space. “Shouldn’t I get home, what about Matt?”

“He said he was busy tonight, but it is up to you.”

The nails of your fingers protruded the underneath of others as you came to a decision. It was like part of you wanted to leave this place and never come back, but it was all you knew. Your home felt a little too empty, too quiet. “Yes please…”

“Alright, you know where everything is, I’ll see you in the morning.” The triplet just looked at you pitifully, not envying you situations.

Hours flew by and by surprise, you fell asleep. The comfort in familiarity brought you to ease. Until voices woke you up.

“Are you fucking serious, Matt! You love that girl. You didn’t think to talk to either of us about it?” It was Chris, angry. Matt’s name sobered your thoughts, and you sat up quickly. Surely you were still dreaming…

Nick lied peacefully beside you, his glasses shining against the hallway light. It fell silent until Matt spoke up.

“Of course I love her, do you think I fucking stopped? I was prepared to do anything for her, so I did.” He didn’t sound like himself, it was sharper.

“So, you thought that shoving her away and into the dark was the best choice?”

“It was either that or Arlo would do some shit, he knows about her Chris. I let the relationship get into my head and I’ve jeopardised her safety.” It was obvious it was about you, one thing that Matt wasn’t was disloyal.

“You chose your little drug group over her; do you know how pathetic that is.”

That made your chest ache. Drugs? He was always clean; he never gave you a reason to think otherwise. Matt was always so adamant about not letting you near them. Maybe it was because he knew what it did to people first hand.

“That is one of our only incomes, but that’s not the point.” The voices grew louder as you grew closer.

“Then what is! Tell me Matt, because I have spent the past three hours consoling her because of you.” Matt stammered before responding.

“She is! Y/n is the point, if she was kept near me, she’d become a target, you know what they are like. If they find out that she is the reason why I’ve fucked up so many times… I don’t want her hurt.”

You now stood at the entrance of the kitchen, staring at the two brothers. Chris was pissed, and disappointed. Although that was easy to tell by their voices. Matt had a stray tear fall down his cheek. You never saw him sad, not around you at least. Was there a reason?

“Matt?”

Both the boys perked up at your voice. Chris was more stunned than Matt was, he smiled at you before walking out the room, grabbing a stray can of Pepsi as he left. Matt just looked at you, so gently. Why did he have to look at you like that?

“Drugs? What is going on, am I finally going to get any information from you.” You didn’t want to cry, but his own tears made your body choke up.

“Baby… I-“ The nickname didn’t even shock you; you were too attached to throw that away.

“I don’t want lies, Matt”

“I ended things…to keep you safe, protected.” He watched your eyes, how they were expectant for more before he gave in and spoke again. “Yes, drugs. It’s so stupid, I know. But it’s income. I swear on my life I’ve never touched them, I don’t use, baby.” His voice quivered and it broke you, the tears visible on your faces from the light above.

“Protect me? Matt, you hurt me.”

“Y/n, let me explain. I sell drugs, with a few other people. I hadn’t meant to but my had revolved so much around you that I started fucking up my job. It was my last chance to pick between you or my work. I chose my work to keep you safe. They know all about you, they can hurt you, you don’t understand.” He rambled continuously, spewing words at me. Both his hands talked with him, and it was almost hard to keep up.

“You didn’t mean to revolve around me? What am I, some sort of side piece to you?” He hadn’t meant it that way, you both knew it but it was just so hard to understand each other.

“No wait- I didn’t mean it like tha-“

“Don’t Matt. I- I’m not in the mood.” Walking away felt the same as before, as cold at least. You left him again in the dark, alone.

Just as last time.

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @jassturn @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @ribread03 @slutf4rmatt @spaghetti835928383 @flouvela

© ENDEREIES 2024

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

*NSFW* I'll keep you warm (Yandere!Lynx Shifter X GN!Reader)

CW: Intense temperature exposure , Yandere behavior, dub-con, dead dove, imprisonment/abduction

Inspired by @lonelyafacy 's monster suggestion ❤️

Mother Nature was a cruel and indifferent witch, unforgiving towards those foolish enough to tread her wilderness. (Reader) smacked their dying flashlight, becoming numb to the harsh winter cold through their snowsuit.

The weather had turned for the worse, changing from a snowy winter's day into a blizzard that lasted into the night, separating (Reader) from their group. Their lips were stuck together with frozen blood, and their eyes could barley stay open. The snow coming down was deceptively sharp, nicking their cheeks above the slipping scarf and turning their skin into fragile paper.

Although they pushed on, trying to use the stars amongst the flurry of white as their guide, their limbs were losing their feeling, and (Reader) was beginning to wonder if it was worth the battle. The flashlight flickered again as though it could hear their thoughts. (Reader's) knees buckled, causing them to collapse by the base of a tree. They pulled their limbs in under their body, and fell unconscious, incapable of keeping themselves awake through the cold.

Am I dead?

(Reader) smelled something cooking before they realized they felt warmth. They hadn't been anywhere near civilization, so the first semi coherent thought they had was that they had died and this was heaven. Until their muscles began twitching in pain. A large hand pressed (Reader) back into a mound of furs when they forced themselves to move. The hand was warm and strong, even through the blankets (Reader) could feel it.

"Sleep." A gravelly voice commanded.

(Reader) kept their eyes closed, face mostly buried in the cloud like bedding. "Where am I?"

"My home. I found you outside." The unknown man responded while moving around the home, floorboards creaking under his weight. "Sleep more. It'll hurt less." His sentences were short and curt, but (Reader) didn't mind. Whoever he was had saved their life, so he couldn't be too bad of a person. (Reader) fell asleep again.

After thirteen hours (Reader) woke up and was able to sit up without pain, still feeling exhausted despite sleeping for such a long time. Their stomach hurt from hunger. "Hello?" They called out for whoever had rescued them.

A giant entered into view, wearing a hood that obscured his face from (Reader). He held out a wooden bowl filled with some kind of stew. "Can you eat?"

(Reader) reached out from the blankets, immediately going into shock when they saw their own naked arms. "Where are my clothes?"

"Drying. You think I'd put you sopping wet in my bed?"

Embarrassed, (Reader) turned red, ashamed for doubting their hero for even a second. They grabbed the bowl, thanking the man quietly.

"The blizzard has gotten worse. Even I can't leave right now. Once the storm has passed I'll point you in the direction you need to go. Until then, stay warm. Heal up."

"...Thank you."

"You already said that."

"That was for the food. Thank you for saving me."

Although he had his back turned to (Reader) they could see him tense under their words. (Reader) assumed he was uncomfortable with their presence, based on how he kept his face hidden. "My name is (Reader)."

"You don't need to know my name." The man's response was almost panicked, growling as he stormed out of the room.

(Reader) was left upset over the fact that they seemed to anger their savior. He must be anti social..

They finished the bowl of stew and waited under the fur blankets, unable to take care of their dish without walking around in the nude. After some time he returned, taking the bowl without a word, his hand seemed huge in comparison to (Reader's).

"Thank you." They smiled up politely, hoping he was looking. The man shuddered again, hurrying away with the bowl. (Reader) cleared their throat. "Are my clothes dry yet?"

"Your jacket was frozen solid when I found you. It took a few hours just to thaw. Everything is still damp."

"Why were you outside in this weather?"

"I was on my way back from some last minute hunting and gathering."

"Ah, I see. Thank you. Again."

"There is no need to thank me." His body seemed to relax. (Reader) smiled, hoping that this meant they were wearing him down.

"You saved my life. I got separated from my friends and couldn't find my way in the dark. I would have died out there if it wasn't for you." (Reader) spoke as sincerely as they could. "You're my hero."

He took a deep breath. "I have... lived alone for a very long time. No one knows that I am here. I almost... left you, when I found you."

(Reader's) heart grew heavy with guilt. "I promise I won't tell anyone about you." They briefly imagined that under his cloak was a kind of Quasimodo esque being, who risked his identity to save them.

Even without seeing his face the man seemed surprised, turning to (Reader) and staring from under his hood.

"Cain."

(Reader) gave a large toothy grin. "It's nice to meet you, Cain."

They sat together in a strangely comfortable silence, before a gurgle reminded (Reader) that, unfortunately, they were still human. "Do you have a restroom?"

His relaxed demeanor stiffened again. "It is.. down the hall." He quickly handed an oversized shirt to (Reader) before turning his back for privacy, and pointes in the direction of the facilities.

(Reader) threw the shirt on without thinking too much about it, and painfully hopped to the toilet. The building was a cozy little cabin, (Reader) was just now realizing, with pictures hung up on the wall of a family. They wondered if it was Cain's family. But the need to go was stronger than their curiosity.

They collapsed onto the toilet before realizing that there was an odd smell in the bathroom. It wasn't the normal bad stench of a toiletries, but it smelled rotten.

In the corner of the room was a pile of clothes, and other than that the restroom seemed to be empty, with nothing that could be causing such a smell standing out to (Reader). (Reader) didn't want to be snoopy, but... They finished hurriedly, praying that Cain couldn't hear them, and picked up the clothing. The clothes were heavy, torn into shreds and soaked in old, dried blood. A chill ran down (Reader's) spine. Cain didn't want anyone to know he was here. He considered leaving me to die to keep that secret.

How far could I make it in just a shirt?

They left the restroom, trying their best to appear normal. The family on the walls taunted them. Did the blood belong to one of them?

Cain sat by the fire, still hiding under his cloak. Next to him was (Reader's) clothes, hung up on the back of a chair. Maybe I'm just jumping to conclusions. (Reader) sighed, placing a hand on their heart to muffle it's pounding. He still saved me.

(Reader) touched their shirt, feeling the warm dampness and was relieved, because it meant Cain hadn't been lying about that at least. "How long do you think this storm will last?"

"Hopefully just the night. It could last up to a week though."

They shivered at the thought. "Do you have a couch I can sleep on? I wouldn't want to take your bed. Again."

"You can take the bed."

"I'm really fine-"

"Take the bed."

(Reader) could feel the adrenaline shoot to the tips of their toes. "O-okay." Although there was a smile on their face, the previous comfort they felt around Cain was dead. They had trusted him so much simply because he rescued them that they had forgotten that Cain was still a stranger.

Cain grabbed (Reader's) wrist as they passed, his hand engulfing their forearm with his inhumanly large mits. The air became heavy, and (Reader) could feel their arm sweating in his strong grasp.

"Your hand smells like blood."

Frightened, (Reader) smacked at Cain with their free hand, knocking his hood back. Although his face looked only a few years older than (Reader) his shaggy hair was a light grey, and atop his head were two pointed ears, pressed back against his scalp. If it weren't for the coloration, (Reader) CO m wouldn't have noticed the ears at all with how flatly they laid against his head. Shocked, he released (Reader's) arm, giving them enough time bolt out the front door, back into the blizzard.

Snowflakes pierced their skin as they ran, and the warmth they had gained in the cabin was gone the moment they left it's protective embrace, robbed by the harsh environment. Barefoot, (Reader) ran in a random direction, not capable of rational thought. With fight, flight, or freeze, they learned in that moment what kind of person they were.

Between the clouds masking the stars and the onslaught of snow, (Reader) was left completely blind. Without any clothes it felt like their muscles were shredding in their legs. (Reader's) legs gave out much more easily than they had the first time.

(Reader) could barely hear Cain's footsteps above the roar of the wind. Through the trees a large grey monster stalked into view, walking on its hind legs like a man, it's terrifying size was more reminiscent of a bear's. It's ears were flattened, and there was an almost human like expression of disappointment on its face.

"What were you thinking, running off into the woods?" It's voice was hoarse, but it was recognizably Cain's.

As he approached his fur receded, shrinking back down into his more human form, still with animal ears, now naked in the snow. He bent over (Reader's) violently shivering form as they crumbled.

"Did you forget that there was a storm?"

(Reader's) eyes stung as they tried to cry. "Please don't kill me." They weakly pleaded.

"Why would I save you, only to kill you later?" His warm breath thawed (Reader's) cheek. "You were unconscious for a long time when I found you. I thought you were dead. Unlike myself, you needed shelter suitable for a human. So I took one. I didn't have time to clean up everything. I needed to bring back everything I had caught to begin preparing a meal for when you awoke and making it comfortable for when I would eventually make you mine, so I was hoping that you would understand. That I killed them for you."

Cain's hot tongue licked (Reader's) cheek, the juxtaposition between the extreme cold and his sudden warmth made their skin feel like it was being torn off. (Reader) gasped out in pain, too cold to scream.

"I really did almost leave you in the snow. Because what if you left? Found out what I was and told the other humans? But look at you... Were you even conscious when you begged me to save you? Or was that your body acting on its own?" Cain got onto his knees, his skin searing (Reader's) flesh. His fingers digging into their shoulders felt like flames dancing across their body. Each touch from Cain burned. It was neither comforting nor pleasant.

"Ah, but now you're nearly frozen, yet again. Do you want me to warm you up?" Everytime Cain shifted his weight above (Reader), they were exposed to the blistering wind. As the parts of them hidden under Cain's body warmed up in his unnatural heat, the more excruciating the exposure to the outside was.

Tears melted (Reader's) fragile eyes. "Please, warm me up, Cain." Their primitive need for survival made (Reader) beg like a pathetic coward.

The loving smile on Cain's face was brief, before his face began shifting, becoming the humanoid monster he was moments earlier. Dwarfing the terrified human, he ran his rough tongue across their cold body, purposely allowing their body to freeze without his touch before warming (Reader) back up. He relished in the needy whimpers escaping (Reader's) lips as they suffered in the deadly temperature. (Reader) grasped at Cain's fur, trying to pull him in to steal his heat.

Clawed paws grabbed (Reader's) thighs, pressing their knees to their head uncomfortably. (Reader's) eyes widened in horror as Cain revealed his cock, resting it across their exposed bottom. They didn't have time to protest before their body was folded into a mating press, no preparation for their tightened hole, no warning to help them relax. Cain pressed his tip to the opening, and snapped his hips into (Reader's), thrusting in his entire member without lubricant.

Cain's dick was already hot, but with the added pain of the sudden insertion it was like being fucked by an iron poker. The scream (Reader) couldn't find earlier now ripped through their throat, the sound of their agony drowned out by the howling wind.

(Reader) pushed Cain away in surprise, but immediately regretted the action when he playfully leaned back, allowing (Reader's) chest to be assaulted by the snow and hail pelting them from all sides. They pulled him back, cringing at how Cain chuckled in their ear.

He fucked them in the snow, pressing deep into their gut painfully, and humiliating (Reader) further by licking away their tears as they sobbed under his body, incapable of pushing him away. Cain could stop at any moment, but the threat of frost bite kept (Reader) latching onto him, begging him not to let go. Their desperate cries only encouraged Cain to continue teasing them, watching with glee as their skin chapped and bled without his touch.

"It hurts..." (Reader) moaned as they pulled him in deeper.

"If you keep whining like that you'll only make me cum faster." Cain threatened, biting (Reader's) neck to hold in a gasp when they tightened around him. Their knees smacked into their temples as his pace sped up, his twitching cock threatening to release deep inside (Reader).

"No! Don't cum inside me!" (Reader) blubbered into the monster's fur.

(Reader) felt a wave of heat blast inside them as Cain pumped his thick load into their raw hole. As they wept loudly Cain continued happily smacking his wet pelvis into his beloved's, just the action of fucking his seed into them turning him on again.

Cain was already planning their futures together, as (Reader) imagined their death. This wouldn't be so bad, fucking (Reader) like this; purposefully keeping them needy so they clung to him like they wanted it.

Maybe one day, (Reader) would love him in the same way as Cain loved them, and would beg Cain to make love to them, but for now, he was content fucking them like a desperate, wild animal.

Blood from the wind burns and from the tearing from rough sex stained the white white under their bodies. Cain turned back into a human so he could kiss (Reader) passionately, taste their mouth salty from their tears.

"Let's go home, (Reader)."

[panerasbox]

—FLOUR,FIRE,&FEELINGS; 8 Days To Go

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x fem!Reader.

Genre: fluff with implied smut

Word count: 1k.

summary: you just wanted to cook something nice for Melissa. Instead, you nearly burned down the kitchen.

30 DAYS OF MELISSA SCHEMMENTI MASTERLIST

You spent the entire day preparing. Recipes printed, ingredients prepped, music on— Tori Amos, obviously, because you were feeling dramatic. Melissa deserved something special, and you were going to cook for her, even if your last attempt at pasta had ended in smoke. Literally.

You imagined her walking through the door, tired from work, smelling garlic and basil and immediately melting into a puddle of appreciation and passion. You wanted to be the romantic surprise. The domestic goddess.

Instead, the smoke alarm went off. Three times.

The pasta was stuck to the bottom of the pot. The sauce was watery but also somehow burnt. The garlic bread had gone full charcoal briquette. And there was flour in your hair.

Melissa opened the door, her expression shifting from confusion to suspicion the moment she smelled the air.

“You cookin’?” she asked, eyeing the kitchen like it owed her money.

“Surprise?” you said weakly, brandishing a wooden spoon like a white flag.

She blinked. “You tryin’ to kill me?”

“I was trying to make dinner!”

“You used the good olive oil for this?”

“…yes?”

Melissa sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose, and walked into the kitchen. “Move. I’m takin’ over before you burn the whole damn block down.”

You stood back, cheeks flushed, trying not to feel completely crushed.

Until she turned back to you, grinning.

“But points for effort, hon. You look real cute covered in disaster.”

Within ten minutes, your culinary crime scene was transformed into something that smelled edible. Delicious, even.

You sat on the counter, swinging your legs and sulking mildly, still dusted with flour.

“Stop pouting,” she said without looking at you. “You already did the hard part.”

“Which part was that?”

“Making me laugh. And letting me see you like this. You don’t gotta be perfect.”

You melted a little inside. Maybe a lot.

She handed you a spoon of sauce to taste.

“Be honest,” she said.

You tasted. Moaned. “God, marry me.”

Melissa smirked. “Cook first, propose later.”

You watched her, mesmerized. Her rolled-up sleeves. Her focused brow. The way she tasted the sauce off her finger like it was no big deal and completely ruined your ability to form coherent thoughts.

You hopped down and walked over to wrap your arms around her from behind. “You’re a kitchen witch.”

“I’ll put you in a pot and stir if you don’t sit back down.”

You stayed put. And fell even harder for her.

The dishes were technically done, though Melissa had rewashed everything you’d “cleaned” with a judgmental squint and a lot of muttering under her breath about soap actually being necessary.

You were now both curled on the couch, one blanket between you, Melissa’s hand lazily rubbing your thigh while your head rested on her shoulder.

“You do realize,” Melissa said, “you’re never allowed near my stove unsupervised again.”

“What if it’s for toast?”

“You almost set a bagel on fire in the microwave, babe.”

She chuckled and kissed your hair. “You’ve got other talents,” she added. “Better ones.”

“Like what?”

“You’re an excellent taste-tester. Very enthusiastic.”

“And you’re pretty damn cute when you’re trying to impress me.”

“I just love you, that’s all,” you said quietly.

Melissa reached up, cupped your face, and kissed you.

“You’re already somethin’ special,” she said. “Don’t gotta prove that to me.”

“…So no more surprise dinners?” you asked.

“We’ll compromise. You pick the wine. I’ll cook.”

“And dessert?”

“You can unwrap the cannoli box real dramatic-like.”

You laughed into her neck. You’d never be a good cook, but with Melissa, you didn’t need to be.

The next morning, you woke up determined to start the day right.

Which meant two things:

1. Make Melissa coffee.

2. Not set anything on fire.

You filled the compartment and pressed a button you hoped was the right one.

The machine groaned like it was dying.

Melissa walked in, hair mussed, voice gravelly. “You tryin’ to kill the Keurig?”

“I wanted to make you coffee! But I might’ve summoned a demon instead.”

Melissa nudged you aside. “You filled the water too high. Again.”

You leaned dramatically on the cabinet. “I swear I’m good at literally everything else.”

She smirked. “You’re just a public safety hazard around appliances.”

You wrapped your arms around her. “So I’m banned from the kitchen and the coffee station?”

“Only if you’re unsupervised. Which, lucky for you,” she whispered, “I got no plans to stop supervisin’.”

Six months later, you were back in Melissa’s kitchen—this time with full permission. Mostly.

“I just wanna help,” you said, dramatically tying on your apron.

“You can help. But if I see cinnamon near my sauce again, I’m throwin’ you out the window.”

“That was one time!”

Melissa handed you a grater. “Just the mozzarella. Don’t get ideas.”

You grated with wild enthusiasm. Cheese flew. Melissa hovered.

Eventually, she came up behind you, guiding your hands over the ricotta. “Now we layer.”

“Like… emotionally?”

“God help me,” she muttered, then kissed your neck.

Somehow, the lasagna made it into the oven. You leaned back, proud and cheesy.

“I think I deserve a kiss.”

Melissa kissed you. Then again. And again.

“Maybe I like you in my kitchen after all,” she said.

“Does this mean I’ve earned toaster privileges?”

She looked you dead in the eye.

“…No. You know what’d really impress me?” she murmured, lips brushing your ear. “You lettin’ me bend you over this counter.”

Your breath hitched. “In your kitchen?”

“In our kitchen,” she corrected, and then she was kissing you—slow, then fast.

You barely registered the stove cooling behind you before she spun you, your hands bracing on the marble. Her hands slid up your thighs, under your shirt. You whimpered when her fingers dug into your hips.

Clothes disappeared like they were never there. She was muttering in your ear, calling you her girl, so good for me—and you melted into the granite and her touch and the way she knew exactly where to press.

You moaned her name—desperate, drawn-out.

“Shhh,” she cooed. “You keep bein’ loud, the neighbors’ll think I murdered you in here.”

You turned your head to look at her, breathless. “What if I want them to know I died happy?”

Melissa grinned—dark, dangerous, and full of love. “Then I better finish the job.”

[moneyndior]

୧ ׅ𖥔you’ll never find nobody better than me.⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH; i have loser!luke x reader thoughts

tags/warnings: fem!reader, tooth rotting fluff, reader says something slightly suggestive twice at the end, small creepy comments mention, teasing!reader, whipped!luke, hints at aphrodite!reader, hints at reader being popular, separate blurbs/headcanons, LONG‼️

ೃauthor notes⁀➷: do not expect this to be coherent lmfao i just woke up from a 4 hour nap and had ideas. also shout out to artemis for telling me to write this ily oomf

—

—loser!Luke absolutely looks over to you before answering a question for your reassurance.

“can you help me, luke?” a younger hepaestus kid asked. you and luke finally had alone time—away from your friends and away from his siblings. a huff left your lips as you crossed your arms, a sassy expression sure, but that comes naturally to you.

luke opened his mouth, ready to agree. it was his calling, to keep up the golden child reputation he had at camp. but for some reason, he hesitated. luke’s eyes shifted toward yours, back to the kid, then back to you. like he was asking you if he could go—like all his free will was thrown out the window.

as much as you’d like to preach that you didn’t like it—that you’d much rather luke be his own person—you couldn’t. a snicker left your throat as you nodded. luke’s eyes shinned with appreciation, a small smile on his face as he turned his attention to the kid.

“yeah, sure. c’mon.” luke mumbled before kissing you on the cheek, following the kid as the 12 year old frantically explained the situation.

—loser!Luke who gets weak in the knees whenever you noticed him. even if you two just made eye contact.

“it’s getting to be painful to watch you looking at her, dude.” chris said from beside luke. they both watched as your sisters braided your hair. one put a flower in your hair, making luke’s heart race a little faster. the flower on your ear made you look even prettier. it’s no surprise every other guy at camp is fawning over you.

“will you shut up?” luke asked, his face scrunched up as he diverted his attention away from you for only a split second to look over to his friend. “it’s not that bad.”

all luke got in response was silence. he shifted his weight left to right, rolling his shoulders with his arms crossed. he waited very impatiently for chris to answer.

“did you come to your senses yet? is the realization hitting now?” his friend asked, eyebrows raised. he spoke with a chuckle and a mischievous look in his eyes. luke clenched his jaw as he blinked, looking away from him.

“look, she isn’t busy. she probably thinks you’re a creepy stalker.” chris added, rubbing salt onto the wound. maybe now realization would hit luke. and it did. hard.

he could be ruining his chances with you because he’s too much of a loser to muster up the courage to even say hi! goddamnit—what kind of demi-god is he?

chris nudged the curly haired boy before quickly pointing in your direction. luke followed his finger before your eyes locked with his.

he felt his knees slightly buckle, being the first out of the two of you to break eye contact. ‘shit,’ was the only think echoing in his mind. ‘way to go, luke. go on you for looking like the biggest loser in front of y/n. awesome.’ he thought, rubbing the back of his neck as he quickly fled the scene.

“he’s cute.” “who? luke? y’know—he’s like, totally in love with you, y/n.” “i know.”

—loser!Luke who takes the title of ‘y/n’s boyfriend.’ like seriously….he takes real pride in it.

“you’re y/n’s boyfriend, right?” damn fuckin’ right he is. forget luke castellan—that’s boring. y/n’s boyfriend has a much better ring to it. he’s yours before he’s human.

he felt a weird sense of pride wash over him whenever another camper asked him that. it doesn’t matter if he’s asked it once, twice, or even a thousand times. luke’ll always get a grin on his face as he nods.

getting a question like that just meant he gets to brag about how he’s dating the prettiest girl at camp—the prettiest girl to ever walk this planet.

“yeah. y’know it’s actually our anniversary soon and i was wondering-“ and there he goes, on another tangent about his plans to surprise you. because he only wants the best for you. blah, blah, blah. luke’s just so whipped it makes everyone sick.

percy literally fake gags anytime luke finishes a rant about how pretty you looked last night at the campfire and how gorgeous your eyes were then.

—loser!Luke who took one week and three days to finally talk to you.

he felt his sibling shove him in your direction when his back was turned, causing him to stumble toward you. luke’s head snapped back toward them, watching them laugh with a few other hermes kids.

“you alright?” your voice sounded sweet like honey to him. it wasn’t rough, it was possibly the smoothest, nicest voice he’d ever heard. and luke has spoken to a lot of people.

he tripped over his feet as he tried to straighten his back, rolling his shoulders before crossing his arms. luke cleared his throat, nodding. “yeah. ‘m alright.”

a giggle left your throat at his reaction. out of all the guys that you’ve flirted with—luke stuck out for some reason. maybe it was because he was genuinely flustered at the sight of you. that’s different than the usual corny pickup lines or the way-too-intimate complimenting.

“luke, right? it’s nice to finally put a face on a name.” you said, a chuckle in your voice as you smiled. your smile was so much brighter up close. luke was about to answer, until his words finally processed in his head.

you knew his name. you know who he was before this. did you hear good things about him? bad things? did you hear that he was the best swordsman here? did that impress you?

“uh, yeah. it’s nice to meet you too.” he managed to get out, his voice coming out a little quieter than he’d like.

“i love your hair, by the way.” you complimented him like it was nothing—like he wasn’t about to make it his whole personality. did you even know the hold you have on him?

“oh, thank you.” “you’re welcome.”

luke was ready to say something about your eyes, until your sibling cut him off.

“i have got to steal y/n. i am so sorry, luke!” “oh. that’s alright.”

it wasn’t alright, though. he wanted to keep talking to you—having your full attention on him was better than anything. luke just sighed before speaking to you once more, hoping to leave an impression.

“i’ll see you later, hopefully.”

“yeah, definitely.”

definitely. luke cannot wait for the time definitely comes around.

—loser!Luke who does anything and everything you ask of him.

“can you help me take off my shoes? my feet hurt!”

you whined, throwing yourself onto a log. luke furrowed his brows, more confused above all else. he snickered quietly as he seen you pout, sitting with a leg extended out toward him.

“can’t you do that yourself?” “can’t you do it f’me?”

luke shrugged, sarcastically rolling his eyes at your words. he kneeled down in front of you, beginning to untie the converse you had on.

“you look pretty like this, luke.”

he paused for a moment, his hands still gripping your shoe lace. luke’s lips tightened, his eyebrows twitching. he really didn’t know what to feel other than embarrassment.

“thank you.” he muttered before frantically trying to finish untying the shoe. luke quickly slipped it off, hearing you giggle at his expense.

“why’re you actin’ so shy? can i not compliment my boyfriend?” you teased further as he, once again, frantically tried to untie the other.

“stop it. ‘m tryna help you and this is how you reward me?” “i’ll reward you in a different way if you hurry.”

and goddamnit—hurry he did. even when you asked for him to carry you, he still did. luke is just some guy who’s madly in love with his girlfriend. even when he’s holding her shoes and carrying her bridal style to his cabin.