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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 9 months

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Is It Easier for You to Say You Never Loved Me Anyway?

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Commonwealth (Pre- France)

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Angst; Poorly Written Smut

Summary: “We were built to fall apart and fall back together.” - Taylor Swift

A/N: Requested by @unhingedbiatch I hope this is what you were envisioning! Also, Leah never happened. Nope.

*gif is not mine

It was two days before he was set to leave when he saw you walk through the gates of the Commonwealth. His heart roared, stomach flipping at the sight of you after so many years. He knew he couldn’t approach you until you had been processed into the community, encouraging him to find Mercer and put a word in to speed things up. He had to see you.

Your relationship began as reluctant friends during the time at the quarry but blossomed into so much more by the time your eyes fell onto the prison. When your family found Alexandria, he was your everything. And you were his. The openness between you was never guarded, a secret garden where you each could travel when the world threatened to tear you down.

But as they say, nothing lasts forever.

The two of you separated after Rick’s death, Daryl unable to live with himself if he didn’t put everything into finding a body to lay to rest; you unable to remain in Alexandria under the knowledge that he was leaving you and had refused your offer to come along. He had broken your heart but you loved him no less for it.

Now Daryl waited for you, a nervous energy culminating inside him. He still loved you. He had never stopped. He felt as if you had taken half his heart with you when you left for your own travels, never knowing where that precious piece of him had been taken or if you’d thrown it away once you realized that he was never good enough to trust with half of your own.

When you walked out of the processing center a day later, he was there, having waited all night. When your eyes met his, they softened, your arms open before you could even reach him for the embrace both of you had yearned to return to during an absence you couldn’t take back.

“I missed ya.” Daryl whispered into your hair, his voice a rasp. You held him tighter with a feeling of both your hearts becoming whole in the safety of one another’s arms.

“I missed you too.”

It was as if you’d never left.

Daryl showed you around, smiles abundant and given freely without a care of who saw him; a change you wished you’d been around to see manifest. Maybe you were seeing its birth, your unexpected return being the catalyst that gave him enough security for others to see him as you always had.

You reunited with Carol and Judith, while meeting RJ for the first time. He filled you in on losses Aaron hadn’t already told you about. Promised you’d have plenty of time to catch up with everyone after the next day. You didn’t know then what that had meant.

It wasn’t until later that night, you on his lap and curled into his chest while he stroked your hair, that the demons hovering unseen while the sun had lit the path outside clawed their way into the space between you.

“Where’d ya go?”

“West. Stayed a while in Missouri, then headed southeast. Tennessee was a train wreck but there were some good people there.” You drew your knees a little closer to your chest, making yourself appear smaller against him. “Did you find him?” Daryl dropped his gaze and shook his head. The knowledge that he had left you for something he had failed to achieve was almost too much to bear.

“Did ya—did ya find someone out there?” He muttered, not yet finding the courage to look you in the eye.

“No.” You leaned back your head to find him staring off the side. You knew that look. You knew him like the back of your hand. With a fingertip against the far side of his face, you encouraged him to turn toward you. “I wasn’t out there looking for a replacement for you, Daryl.” He dipped his chin in a quick nod. “Did you? Find someone, I mean?

“Nah.” You couldn’t lie: you felt like you had been holding your breath in wait for that single answer. “Weren’t lookin’ neither.” The smile you gave him was tender and reassuring, your fingertip still brushing his cheek. You had even missed the rough feel of the stubble he always seemed to keep. “M’leavin’ tomorrow.”

Your ministrations ceased. “What?”

“Maggie. She had some info; some leads for me ta follow.” The contrition you could hear in his tone was almost enough to stave off your anger. “S’somethin’ I hafta do.”

“Just like you had to leave me last time?” You swung your legs around to stand up. “Let me go with you this time.”

He was already shaking his head. “Don’t know what’s out there. You’re safer here.”

“That’s the same bullshit you fed me last time, Daryl.” You were fuming now, pacing the area in front of him while he wouldn’t even meet your eyes. “I’ve been out there! I’m not staying behind again!”

“Y/N—”

“No! I had no say in this last time and it’s kept us apart for too long. I won’t do it again! Do you hear me? I won’t!”

“Didn’t know ya were gonna be here. Didn’t know ya even knew where to find me.”

“Aaron told me. I went to Alexandria first.” You knelt in front of him, ducking your head to urge him to look at you. “Please, Daryl. Please don’t do this to me again.”

“M’sorry.” He whispered.

You remained there, staring at him in disbelief. You had just found one another only to be separated again. Using his knees to shove yourself to your feet, you grabbed your coat and the key to your temporary apartment. The door hit the wall from the force of you throwing it open.

“Fuck you, Daryl.” You hissed. You didn’t bother closing the door, leaving him alone to listen to your retreating footfalls move further and further away.

Late evening saw Daryl packing the last of the things he would be taking with him. He knew he wouldn’t sleep, so he allowed himself several breaks. He was leaning against the kitchen counter chastising himself for not following earlier when there came a soft knock on his door. He had no reluctance to answer and found you standing on the other side.

“Hey.” You attempted a smile that didn’t quite manage to form. “Can I come in?”

“O’course.” Daryl opened the door a little wider and stood back to allow you to pass him, closing it behind you. He wasn’t sure how to approach you or why you had come back in the first place. “Y/N, I—”

You held up a hand to request his silence. “I know you’re not going to let me go. And I know why. I won’t claim to understand it, but I have no choice but to respect it.” You watched his head drop, not in relief but guilt, despair. He just knew he was losing you again. It didn’t take long for you to cross the minuscule space that separated you from him. “I’ll wait for you this time. Here, in this apartment. I’ll wait.”

Those perfect blue eyes were wide with hope when he lifted his head; they searched you for any indication of a lie. When he found none, he nodded curtly. “Be nice to have ya here, knowin’ you’re waitin’ an’ mad at myself for makin’ ya.”

“Good.” You mused, stroking a stubbled cheek with your knuckles. When you kissed him, he froze, body rigid. You knew him well enough to press onward, your knowledge rewarded when he settled and his arms wound around you. Fingers found their way into your hair while the other hand drew you closer from the small of your back. You were breathless when you pulled back, rubbing your cheek against his. “I’ve missed that.” Daryl hummed, allowing you a brief reprieve before his mouth was on yours again.

He walked you back toward the couch until the bend of your knees hit and you unceremoniously fell onto the cushions. Daryl followed your descent, chasing your lips. Palms on his chest, you pushed him back to shed your coat, your shirt following as he pulled his own over his head. As he worked his belt buckle open, you grazed your fingertips over the scars you knew by heart. Each ridge, each pucker, all a part of him.

When he began to push his jeans toward the floor, underwear in tow, you sat back and raised your hips to rid yourself of your own, leaving your lower half bare, only a plain black bra shielding the last bit of skin. His hands were on your ribs, pulling you onto his lap while he simultaneously seated himself. He couldn’t stifle the groan when he felt the heat of your core over his erection, a feeling he had missed and never sought from anyone else.

When you reached behind you to work open the clasp of your bra, the feeling of his fingertips on your sternum gave you pause. A new scar began in the valley of your breasts and stretched to your collarbone. It was left unspoken where you received it; a story for another time. You guided his hand to your lips, kissing the tip of each finger before drawing the middle digit past your lips. You hummed and swirled your tongue around the skin while shrugging off your bra.

Daryl’s mouth was on you in an instant, his hand falling away from your lips when they parted with a drawn out moan. He licked the curve of each breast with practiced expertise, suckling at each nipple while your hands fisted into his mane; gentle tugs urging him onward.

You began to ache for him in a fresh rush of heat. His hips jerked upward, jostling a needy whine from you. “Please.” You whispered, guiding him away from your chest to slot your mouth over his, chaste but hard. You kept your lips close, brushing his while you rubbed your noses together to maintain that contact. “I've waited long enough.”

The archer made a sound in the back of his throat, a growl that vibrated all the way down to where your heat slid over his cock. He need not release his bruising hold on the soft skin of your hips. He simply lifted you, shifted until the tip of him caught on your entrance and lowered you onto him. You remembered the stretch instantly, how your body always willingly molded around him. You were made for him, just as he was made for you.

He panted against your lips, no doubt in restraint. It had been so long, he was shocked he didn’t spill inside you before you were fully seated. You, though; you were just grateful to feel him. You were both back where you belonged, however brief it may be.

You moved first, a gentle rocking that made him hiss between his teeth. You didn’t stop, even feeling him begin to twitch within you. You feared how soon it would be over yet how you yearned to watch him fall apart. Daryl, on the other hand, was not willing for things to end so quickly. He worked his hand to where the two of you were joined and squeezed the bottom of his shaft.

“Cheater.” You pouted, shivering when he chuckled against your neck. You felt his hand slide away, slick and warm, fingers wet when he pressed them into your hip again. He helped you sit higher on your knees only to drag you down, his hips thrusting up to meet you. The push and pull of him inside you, had your head falling back in a series of ah ah ah.

He suckled a bruise onto one breast sliding his tongue over to the pebbled nipple, grazing his teeth against the sensitive bud, pulling sound after sound from you while he helped you bounce on his lap.

“I missed you.” Distantly, you knew there were tears and your cheeks were damp, a sudden melancholy blending and twisting its way into the pleasure he was eager to give you. You dropped your head forward, smiling wetly when you spotted the moisture shining in his blue eyes as well. The kiss was hard, sloppy, full of need; it was a trade-off of years of absence and love and longing.

His movements had slowed, calloused hands guiding you in a slow rolling atop of him. “Missed ya too.” His voice cracked, try as he might to keep his composure. It seemed wrong to feel the heat in your belly. Such a moment should be savored. You wanted to stop, keep him there inside you past the morning, never letting him climb on that bike.

Your body disagreed, slowly but surely barreling you toward that precipice. You whined, burying your face into the crook of his neck. He wouldn’t allow your hips to stop moving, urging you toward release.

“Wait.” He whispered, so soft yet with an intensity like you’d never heard from him before.

“I—can’t. I’m so close, Daryl. I need—”

He gripped your flesh, bringing you to a halt, willing you to look at him. When you did, the naked plea in his gaze took your breath away, extinguishing the steady build of pleasure to an ache that would never again be sated until he returned you.

“Wait for me. Please.”

You nodded, drawing him against you to openly sob against his hair. “I will. I promise.” You held him there, the quiet shake of his shoulders against you; the hot moisture dripping onto your skin while your own tears fell into his hair.

Why did you choose to return now? Why couldn’t you have come back years ago? He had been back from his isolation for so long, fighting and protecting all the people you loved and he had done it all without you. Because you were selfish. You followed your wounded pride as far away from him as you could. And when you came back, expecting he had moved on, actually hoping he had, he was waiting for you.

And now you would watch him leave you again. On a mission that was not his to undertake. You would never be able to talk him out of it. Daryl had this drive, this desire to protect. He felt like he owed everyone to ensure their happiness. This was for Judith and RJ. They deserved their family to be whole. Daryl had raised those kids in your absence, the role of surrogate father taken on willingly. Now he would try to return to them what they had been missing.

And you knew you couldn’t sway him.

So you cried. He cried. And when your tears ran dry, still on his lap with him softening inside of you, you pulled back and cupped his face, red-rimmed blue eyes seeking comfort and reassurance. You smiled, a genuine small upturn of your lips, and kissed him.

“I’ll wait forever if that’s what it takes. You just come back to me, Daryl Dixon.”

With a sharp inhale, he nodded while whispering his knuckles across your jaw. He was committing you to memory. Every freckle, every scar, the twinkle in your eyes, every line, every curve. He’d take it all with him.

You didn’t even react when he lifted you and gently placed you on your back, slipping out of you in the process. It took three strokes to bring him back to hardness. He guided himself to your entrance and thrust inside in one fluid motion, dragging a moan from you with you arching into his chest.

There was only desperation now, each hard thrust begging you to fall apart. And you would oblige. The way he slammed into you, his tip angled to probe that spot inside of you, had you clawing for purchase on his back, his shoulders, his arms.

“Daryl—oh my god, Daryl—I’m gonna—”

“Please.” He whispered against your ear. You were a goner. The pleasure was so intense that your eyes rolled back, vision alight with stars and shapes as your body vibrated to ride each wave. When you began to come down, you were thankful. His thrusts were prolonging your orgasm, a gentle thrum of pleasure that kept going and going as he chased his high. With teeth clenched, he pulled from within you just in time to paint your belly with warm ropes. He groaned above you, body trembling with the struggle of holding himself up as he spilled. He was left a panting mess of tremors that somehow found the strength to pull away from you.

He reached for his discarded shirt to gently clean you, having absolutely no intention of allowing you away from him to take care of the mess yourself. The task complete, he tossed the article to who knows where and sat back, pulling you onto his lap. There was a mutual hum of contentment as you melted into him.

“I promise I’ll wait.”

Watching him ride away was probably the hardest thing you had ever done in your life. The last time had been filled with anger and a deep jab of betrayal. This time was different. You had conceded to watch this, made a promise to be there when he came back.

He had held you, whispering in your ear while he smiled. It brought tears to your eyes. You nodded vigorously while he kissed you, laughing against his mouth.

And then he was gone in a cloud of dust and the roar of an engine.

But you would wait.

You promised.

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wonusite · 10 months

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Sweet Dreams

❝ You dream about a beautiful man nearly every time you fall asleep. After getting to know him and everything about him, you see him outside of your dreams—in a museum painting. ❞

PAIRING: joshua hong x female reader

GENRE: vampire au, reincarnation au, angst, smut

WORD COUNT: 10.1k

WARNINGS: vampire!joshua, human!reader, lucid dreaming, reincarnation, so much yearning, mentions of death, joshua is a brooding mess, protective!minghao, unprotected sex, blood play, biting, creampies

A/N: this has been long overdue, and i hope you guys like it! loosely based off this ask. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Fate.

A simple word that holds more power and venerability than any ruler of the middle kingdom. It’s a mystifying concept that follows no rules and simply is; something that can actively be changed but not avoided. Joshua learns this late in his long life—a derailment of his own making. The lesson comes to him in the form of a fiery witch running from her death.

As a creature that’s lived in solitude since he became immortal, it’s not in his nature to be helpful. It’s why he has no interest in saving the witch from the demons that are hunting her. This, however, doesn’t stop the insolent little witch from forcing herself into his sanctuary. He fights her on it, baring his fangs while saying the most despicable and bone chilling threats to her. The young witch isn’t fazed and makes it clear that he doesn’t have a choice in the matter.

In the end, he concedes. Not because she’s powerful enough to make him obey her, but because she reminds Joshua of himself when he was desperately clinging to his own survival. Perhaps that’s the reason he becomes inexplicably drawn to her. Josh almost feels like she’s bewitched him, and the most unusual part of it all is that he doesn’t care even if that is the case.

He seeks her out after he helps her despite knowing that it can’t possibly end well. Their kinds don’t mix, and it’s doubtful that two abominations can share something as sacred and beautiful as love. Fate has never allowed it before, but Joshua is foolish enough to try to defy destiny.

Courting the witch isn’t easy. Then again, anything that involves her never is. The witch is a firm believer in being reverent to the same fates that gave her the powers she wields while Joshua couldn’t care less about the fates that turned him into a monstrosity. This creates a disconnect between them because the witch is firm that she could never love such an irreverent creature.

This hardly deters him. Joshua is relentless in his chase, and after the longest decade of his life he’s finally able to win the witch’s thorn-covered heart.

And so, even just for the briefest moments, they’re allowed to create their own destiny with each other.

Loving someone, loving her, is the most addicting feeling he’s ever felt. The love he feels for the witch surpasses even that of his first love who he was convinced he’d never forget. Being with her is the happiest Joshua has ever felt, and he naively thinks it’ll last forever.

This all comes to an abrupt end when the witch finds out that it’s his fault the demons eradicated her coven. Yes, it was before Josh had met and fell in love with her, but that doesn’t change anything. It was still him who had put her on the brink of death and gotten her family and friends killed. Twisted as it is, he doesn’t regret his actions nor would he change them if he had an opportunity to do so.

And so, the love of his life becomes his most dangerous enemy.

It hurts. More so because she discards him and his love like they never meant anything in the first place.

The witch is cutthroat in her hatred. It’s not long before the children of the moon find his sanctuary and nearly send him to meet his maker. Her hexes nearly incapacitate him, but even all her acts of revenge aren’t enough to satiate the vengeance she seeks.

Slowly, the love they grew to feel for each other becomes wilted and corroded beyond repair.

Years pass, yet the feud never dies. Joshua is almost impressed by her determination to destroy him the same way he almost destroyed her.

Hatred has replaced love by now, and it’s almost impossible for him to believe he ever loved the witch in the first place. A decade passes, then two and three until eventually an entire century goes by with the two of them feeling this burning loathing. Their detrimental feelings and behavior push both Joshua and the witch to make a vow never to love again.

But fate has other plans for them.

As time goes on, they find themselves backed into a corner—together this time. Death has returned for them in the form of faes. Neither one of them is willing to relent and give up their land to the insignificant creatures who claimed to have it first. And so, they help each other one last time.

Fighting against inferior creatures together has always been like dancing for them, and it’s easy to fall back into a love language they created. By the end of their battle, they come out victorious. The two are grateful to each other even if neither of them say it outright.

Joshua feels a familiar ache in his chest the longer he stares at the witch who was once his. Feelings he thought were long gone rush back to the surface as if they’d never left in the first place. Perhaps they never really had. He’s never been one to go against his own desires, and so he reaches out for her, craving her skin against his if even for the last time.

Their embrace is sweet, but the kiss that follows is full of passion, longing, and ardent love that seems to have been buried deep within them the entire time. It’s almost like a dream to have her like this again, and now Joshua doesn’t plan on letting her go.

But once again, fate doesn’t leave him with a choice.

Humans grow more wary of the creatures they share the world with. Many go into hiding, but Joshua makes the mistake of thinking he can blend in with his prey. A hunter of his kind has found him, and as a vampire with no coven, he’s left vulnerable. It’s even worse when the hunter and his clan discover his lover and what she is.

It was a peaceful night when they’re attacked. Escaping death doesn’t seem possible, but as always the witch assured him that she has a solution. His love makes him a promise as she casts a spell that will hide his presence. A promise that she’ll find him and reunite with him in every lifetime. He’s confused by her words, but has no time to question her as the spell takes over and dulls his senses until he’s unconscious.

If he’d known his love was going to sacrifice herself for him, he would’ve taken a million wooden stakes to the heart rather than continue existing in a world without her.

Centuries later, he’s never been able to forget her or what her presence had done to his life. Joshua is left alone in a world that now seems intolerable without his witch in it. Cruel irony reminds him that the solitude he once basked in feels suffocating now. All he’s left with is a gaping hole that constantly reminds him of how he lost his one true love.

Joshua eventually joins a coven, but they offer little comfort. At this point in his immortality, he only sticks around them out of habit. It’s not that he isn’t fond of them—he is, most of the time—but it’s not the same as having his lover by his side.

After going through the eternal test of time, Joshua still yearns for her; craves her as much as the blood that he feeds on. It’s the reason he’s spent the last two centuries looking for the one person who filled his heart with so much love.

And he’ll stop at nothing until he finds her.

The first time it happened, you thought it was nothing more than a dream.

Which it was, but it felt different—it was different. Never in your life had you dreamt such a beautiful dream that felt so real and almost indistinguishable from reality. The most memorable part was the euphoric feeling it evoked from you.

Well, that’s not exactly right. There was one single element that had left you unable to forget the lucid dream. One that you believed was responsible for your subconscious forcing you into those dreams every time you fell asleep.

Unhealthy as it is, you chase the lucid dreams. Every night, you look forward to your sleep with the hope of once again being wrapped up in one of those lovely dreams. Any free time you’re left with is used to sleep just so you can escape to the ethereal dreamland your mind has created.

The dreams have ensnared you and make you crave and long for them as if you’re under some sort of spell. It’s become a bit of an obsession because even when you’re with other people it’s all you can think about. And yet you’re unable to let go of your obsession in spite of how unhealthy and irrational it is.

The scene in front of you is familiar, but you can’t place where you’ve seen the old castle that looks like it’s straight out of the medieval times. You step forward, feet moving on their own as you walk past the large doors. Servants run along with their head down, and you’re not sure why it makes you feel satisfied that they seem to be terrified of you.

“Y/N.”

You turn at the sound of a mellifluous voice. Once again, it’s the beautiful man who’d been visiting you in your dreams.

“Shua.” You call affectionately, running to him as he opens his arms for you.

As always, he catches you easily. You wrap your arms around his neck, softly giggling into his hair as he spins you around. “Where have you brought me this time?”

“This is where I live.” He tells you as you pull back to look at his face. “Do you like it?”

You look around again. The feeling of familiarity doesn’t go away as you inspect your surroundings. Joshua gently puts you down, but doesn’t release you from his embrace. His stare is gentle and observant, curious on how you’re going to react to what he’s showing you.

“This is really where you live?” You wonder in awe. “Are you a king or something?”

His pretty laugh makes you look back at him. Your heart leaps up into your throat when you see the fond look he’s giving you. It’s been months of being on the receiving end of his affectionate stare, but you’re not sure you’ll stop feeling bashful when you catch it.

“I am not. Does that disappoint you?”

You shake your head. “No, but it does make me wonder how old you actually are. Older than Dracula?”

All Josh can do is laugh and laugh. You’re not sure what he finds so funny, but as usual you do not get the chance to ask. The familiar pressure on your bones gets more intense with every passing moment. It’s how you know you’re on the verge of being pulled out of your blissful dream. You can’t even open your mouth to say goodbye because you’re abruptly yanked out of your subconscious before you can.

It’s always hard to keep going on with your day normally after you dream about Josh. You can never really function afterwards, not how you usually would.

“—even listening to me?”

You snap back into reality, realizing that Jeonghan has been talking to you this entire time. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes and gives you an accusatory look that confuses you. His eyebrows are raised as he leans forward. “I was saying that Soonyoung thinks you’re fucking someone.”

“What?” You splutter, suddenly feeling extremely flustered.

“I told him there’s no way that’s true because lately you’ve been holed up in your room sleeping every chance you get!”

You manage to not choke on your spit and give your friend an indignant glare. “Both you and Soonyoung need to worry about your own sex lives.”

The gleam in his eye changes, and you realize too late that you’ve made a mistake. “Wait. Are you actually fucking someone?”

“You know I’m not!” You hiss, starting to feel embarrassed.

Clearly, Jeonghan doesn’t believe you. He stares at you before something seems to click in his head. Your nervous stare and angry pout are telltale signs of deceit. His jaw drops a bit as he lets out an affronted squeak.

“No way. That’s why you’ve been in such a good mood lately!” He says with a conniving laugh. “And here I thought that night cream I recommended is the reason you’ve been glowing lately.”

Maybe the most embarrassing part about this is not that he’s trying to discuss your sex life (or lack thereof) at the local cafe and not wine night, but the fact that this alleged glow has nothing to do with a man—not a real one, anyway. But Jeonghan doesn’t need to know that.

“You would’ve heard me if that was true.”

Jeonghan’s ears slowly turn red as he pouts in disappointment. He really hoped you’d managed to break your three month long dry spell, and he also wanted to be right. It’s almost suspicious that he isn’t because he usually is. You’ve been a little too smiley lately like you have some hidden lover.

“If you say so.” He mutters bitterly.

This would be the point where you’d usually panic since Yoon Jeonghan can never be one to let anything go if he feels like he’s right. You feel at ease though because there’s no way he could ever find out about Josh.

“By the way… you’re definitely going to be gone this weekend, right?” Jeonghan suddenly asks in a tone you recognize all too well.

You try not to gag as you nod. “Yes. I already bought the tickets and Hao is in the city setting up his apartment so I have a place to stay while I’m up there.”

Jeonghan smirks victoriously. He nods, not even trying to hide how pleased he is as he pulls out his phone. Suddenly, he’s very grateful that you and Minghao have such an interest in history. When he’s done sending a message you would definitely call sleazy, he just laughs at your disgusted expression.

“Don’t give me that look. Not all of us have to practice celibacy like you.”

“Whatever.” You scoff with a roll of your eyes. “Just keep it in your room this time. I better not find any stains on the couch when I get back.”

He only laughs at you with a promise that you can’t think of as sincere.

“Are you playing with your food again?”

The voice sounds distant as Joshua is gently pulled out of the trance he’s used to being in now. He slow blinks, remnants of the beautiful vision still clear in his mind. Junhui’s words don’t bother him like they usually would’ve. Not when he finally feels alive for the first time in centuries. Still, he can’t control the annoyance he feels that his brother thinks this subject is something that can be joked and talked about lightly.

“You and Soonyoung are the only heathens who play with food.” Joshua’s tone is clipped, bordering on that murderous one that pops up any time someone mentions his latest obsession.

Junhui only laughs, head cocking to the side in interest. “I’m curious. Did you really find the grand love of your life, or is it just some girl who happens to look like her?”

“His obsession wouldn’t be so profound if it was a girl who merely looks like her.” Comes a voice from the top of the grand stairs.

They look up to see the oldest and the youngest of the coven coming down the stairs. Soonyoung doesn’t bother to hide his amused smirk while Minghao wears the same impassive expression he had when Joshua met him. His lack of reaction is the reason why he’s often the voice of reason in the coven, but his callous way of speaking never offers any comfort.

“Our brother is looking for the soul of his beloved—a soul that cannot be replicated nor imitated. Even if he’s to find her doppelgänger, he will not love her completely or sincerely.” Minghao says he takes a seat near the burning fireplace.

Soonyoung sits on the other end of the couch before he raises an eyebrow at Josh. He lets out a mocking snicker. “It’s giving stalker.”

As the most recently turned, their youngest has developed a proclivity for imitating the current slang. Joshua understands it (to an extent), but finds it folly. Then again, he doesn’t think its ridiculous when that person uses it.

But of course, that’s different.

Josh doesn’t bother to sneer at him for his snide remark. As a creature who hasn’t found a mate in the entire century he’s been alive, Soonyoung couldn’t possibly understand the ardent need to be close to the person chosen to be your mate.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” Junhui points out, sounding almost bored now. “Have you found her? Your one true love?”

When Joshua smiles, it’s so pretty that even Minghao can’t help but stare. “I have.”

“Are you going to turn her?”

Soonyoung’s question hangs in the air, and as much as Josh wants to hiss at him to mind his own business, he sees how Junhui and Minghao are also looking at him. Turning someone isn’t as simple as it used to be—if it could ever be considered simple. Now there were too many factors and too many risks involved.

“I have to find her physically before I can think of anything else.” Josh sighs deeply.

“Brother.” Minghao says in his serious tone. “Think of your next moves carefully. You’ve found her reincarnation, but she doesn’t remember you, and there’s no guarantee that she ever will.”

For once, the younger ones don’t say anything teasing or goading. They look at him just as solemnly as Minghao is. It’s a harsh truth that Joshua had acknowledged long ago but not fully accepted.

His love doesn’t remember him. This is a fact.

But even if she never does, he doesn’t plan on letting her go. Not again.

“You’re unhappy.”

The observation is astute, and even though it’s been months, you can’t get used to how easily Josh can see through you. It shouldn’t have the affect on you that it does, but there’s just something about having someone know you so well that makes your heart jerk with emotion. Part of you feels insane for feeling this way because this man is just a figment of your imagination created by your subconscious.

Josh smiles placatingly when he sees your pout. He’s sure that you’re not aware that you do it, which makes it all the more cute in his eyes.

“Work hasn’t been great lately.” You say honestly, only hesitating a moment before telling him the rest. “Also... Jeonghan set me up on this blind date. Which wouldn’t be a big deal, but I haven’t been on a date in forever.”

You’re not sure why it feels like you’re saying something absolutely heart wrenching. If you had to describe it, it’s almost like you’re admitting to cheating or something similar which is fucking insane since Josh isn’t your boyfriend—or real, for that matter.

There’s a shift in his kind eyes. A cold rage settles in the depths of his dark irises that makes you feel like you’re staring an evil creature in the face. Before you can ponder it, the expression is is gone so fast that you almost think you imagined it.

“You don’t have to go.” He finally says, and you wonder if he actually sounds like he’s pleading or if it’s just something your subconscious is hoping for.

A teasing smile stretches your lips. “Yeah? Should I just stay here with you, instead?”

Joshua wishes he could say yes. Stay with me and never leave my side again. The words are on the tip of his tongue, and even though he’s dying to say them, he knows he shouldn’t. In this lifetime and your previous one, he had to be patient when courting you. Clearly some things never changed.

“Don’t look so excited.” You joke when you see him hesitate.

His laugh is pretty and soft. You’re not sure why the sound comforts you in a way that almost feels familiar. As if that’s the one sound that could take away any horrible feeling you’ve ever experienced. The longer you listen to the dulcet sound, the more it makes your heart ache for a reason you can’t understand. It’s a type of yearning that feels deeper than the normalcy of seeing him every day.

“I wish you weren’t a dream.”

Joshua’s laughter dies down and the smile slips off his face at hearing your words. You almost regret saying them, but it’s too late to take them back. Not that you would since they’re the absolute truth. He knows you better than most of your friends do, and it’s hard not to feel this intense affection for him. The crazy part of it all is that you can literally feel how much he adores you too.

“Maybe you’re my dream.” Josh’s smile is full of longing and sadness.

Before you can respond, you’re abruptly pulled out of the dream by the blaring sound of a car horn. You startle awake, bleary vision belatedly registering that you’re now in the city. Minghao looks at you with wide eyes, a startled laugh slipping past his lips. “Are you okay?”

You nod wearily, taking a moment to shake of the intense emotions your dream had left you with. It’s clear that Minghao doesn’t fully believe you, but he doesn’t press the subject and keeps driving toward museum.

Being at the museum doesn’t help you as much as you hope. The artifacts and paintings are intriguing, but your irritating mind only keeps associating everything with Josh. He’s always talked like someone from another time so looking at ancient items and old paintings naturally makes you keep picturing his face.

“For someone who kept begging me to clear my schedule so we could come here, you don’t look very excited.”

You give Minghao a guilty look because you know how busy he is. “Sorry. I’m just kind of distracted.”

“And why is that?”

It’s not that you don’t trust Minghao. You do, but you can’t tell him that you’re infatuated with a man who shows up in your dreams.

“I haven’t been sleeping well.”

Your friend raises an eyebrow at you. As usual Minghao sees right through your half-truth. “You’ve been having nightmares?”

“Not exactly.” You say. The resolve to keep your secret quickly dissolved when Minghao gives you a look that somehow always compels you to do what he wants. “I can’t sleep because I keep dreaming of a guy.”

“A guy?” Minghao raises his eyebrows in a way that reminds you of Jeonghan.

“It’s not like that.” You say, skin heating up in embarrassment. “I don’t even think he’s real. He just keeps appearing in my dreams, and I feel crazy every time I think about him.”

Minghao doesn’t laugh or tell you you’re crazy. Instead he looks at you with a sharpened gaze that looks like it holds a certain amount of concern and something else you can’t discern. If his heart was capable of beating, his heart rate would’ve spiked at the information you told him.

You’re vague in your description (which was impressive because his gift is powerful enough to get people to admit to murder), but it’s enough to have his mind reeling. Is it possible that you’d fallen into the clutches of an incubus? Minghao isn’t overly fond of humans, but you’re different. He can’t let you become the prey of such a lascivious creature.

“I have some tea that’s good for sleeping." He says as normally as he can as you two walk along the museum. “When we get back to my place, I’ll give you some.”

You nod silently, not entirely sure if his teas will help with your lucid dreaming. Even if they did, it’s not like you want to stop seeing this imaginary man that makes you feel more loved than you ever had. But there’s a part of you that knows you can’t keep sleeping with the hopes of seeing Josh again.

The inner turmoil you’re feeling is interrupted when Minghao pulls you to the section he’d been dying to see from the beginning. His laughter immediately makes you come back down to earth. It’s not like your friend never laughs, but this one is full and louder than you’ve ever heard it. You’re not sure why he finds the painting of a duke so funny. Just as you’re about to question him, you see the painting and feel the world around you come to a stop.

It feels like your heart stopped beating and dropped down to your stomach. Your usually quiet mind is reeling, trying to fathom what you’re seeing. There’s no way.

The painting is of a man, but not just any man.

It’s Josh.

Your Josh.

You keep blinking as if another face will appear in the very old painting. If you felt crazy before, the feeling worsens the longer you stare at the oils that form the face you’ve come to memorize and love. The description of the painting says the man born in 1714 was a famous duke notorious for starting a rebellion against the crown.

“So this is the only painting of the Hong Jisoo?” Your friend cackles, but you’re not sure what’s so funny.

It’s good that he’s so distracted by whatever it is he finds so funny because you’re about two seconds away from breaking down. How is it possible that some duke from centuries ago was appearing in your dreams? Is it possible that you’d somehow seen his image before and projected it into your dreams? You don’t remember even reading about him, and it only makes you feel more crazy.

Back at Minghao’s luxury apartment, you can’t stop thinking about that stupid painting of Hong Jisoo. How is it possible for you to dream about a person that was alive centuries ago? It doesn’t make sense, and the more you think about it, the more freaked out you feel.

“Here.” Hao says as he hands you a warm mug of tea. “Drink it to see if it helps. I’ll give you some to take home if you like it.”

You thank him, really hoping this puts an end to your unhealthy dreams.

“It’s not working!” Josh growls angrily. “There’s something blocking me from seeing her. I’m sure of it.”

Soonyoung and Junhui roll their eyes. Josh has been complaining about not being able to transcend into his true love’s subconscious for the last three hours, and it’s starting to drive them insane. It’s not that they’re not sympathetic, but it was quite literally the only thing the older vampire could talk about. Not to mention the fact that after months of visiting his mate every day, he did nothing to figure out where she was—a total waste in their opinion.

Before Josh can keep repeating the same frustrated things he’s been griping about all morning, they hear the door open and the familiar sound of boots clacking against the marble floor.

“Minghao!” Soonyoung cries when the oldest of the coven walks into the living room. “Finally, you’re back! Jisoo hasn’t stopped whining about his mate since you left! You need to put a stop to him!”

Minghao sets down his suitcases with an exhausted sigh. “What’s going on?”

“He claims there’s a barrier preventing him from entering his mate’s subconscious.” Junhui explains, sending a skeptical look Joshua’s way. “Which is impossible because a mere human isn’t capable of blocking his gift.”

While that is true, there are certain things humans have done for centuries to ward off creatures of the night. However, it is strange that there’s a sudden block to his mate’s subconscious after being left vulnerable for so many months.

“Perhaps your mate has realized that you’re a nefarious creature and not just a figment of her imagination.” Minghao muses as he goes to sit at his usual place by the fire. “If that’s the case, she may have sought out a witch to block her psyche from unsavory visitors.”

The dark look Josh sends his way is amusing to the rest. Maybe it’s cruel to disregard the anguish his brother clearly feels, but being empathetic has never been one of Minghao’s character traits. Even so, some of the humanity he once had still lingers within him.

“However, if you truly wish to find her I can contact Jihoon—”

“No.” Josh snaps immediately. The growl in his voice is menacing as his eyes darken. “I’ll find her on my own.”

The silence that follows is tense until Soonyoung breaks it by insisting on seeing pictures from Minghao’s trip. As always, he obliges to the youngest’s request, tossing his phone over without taking his eyes off Josh.

“If that were possible you would have already found her.”

It’s a frustrating truth. He hadn’t been able to figure out anything that would help him find you because he didn’t want to scare you off. Now he regrets playing the part of a gentleman because it feels like he’s lost you all over again.

“Is this the human you’re always talking about?”

Usually, Josh doesn’t take any interest in humans aside from his meals, but the way Minghao’s sharp gaze switches to an almost fond one intrigues him enough to look at the screen Soonyoung is holding out toward them.

It’s like his heartbeat comes back to life when he sees a video of a beautiful girl staring at one of his old swords.

“Yes. That’s—”

“Y/N.”

Minghao looks at Josh in surprise. He’s incredulous, but it’s soon replaced by horror when he realizes why his brother is looking at the phone with a predatory gaze.

“You…” Minghao’s icy tone makes the younger ones still. They recognize the murderous intent behind that tone instantly. “You’re the one who’s been invading her dreams.”

Josh snarls at his oldest friend. “You’re the one responsible for the barrier.”

It’s like watching two animals raising their hackles at one another. Except both of them are capable of destroying each other and everything around them without caring.

Junhui is quick to step in, holding a firm hand to Minghao’s chest. “She’s his mate.”

It’s meant to make him see reason, but all it does is anger Minghao.

“A mate that he betrayed time and time again!” His words make them all flinch. “You’re the reason those hunters found her and burned her alive!”

Never has a silence so thick and tense surrounded them before. It’s a low blow to bring up Josh’s greatest pain in such a way, but Minghao is beyond seeing reason at this point.

“Both of you need to calm down.” Soonyoung says as he stands in the middle.

“Do you have feelings for her?” Josh demands, not understanding why the person who had helped him search for his mate’s reincarnation for centuries was suddenly acting this way.

“She’s a pure soul.” Minghao says, sounding a little defeated. “One that doesn’t deserve to become a monster like us.”

It’s tense and silent again, but this time the air feels different. All four of them knew how painful and awful it was to turn. Back then, they had been the unlucky ones to survive an attack when they were meant to be someone’s food. Minghao wouldn’t wish that on anyone, least of all you.

“Let her decide.” Soonyoung breaks the silence, being reasonable for the first time in a long time. He looks to Josh, gaze as serious as ever. “If you really love her, tell her the truth and let her decide what to do.”

Minghao has always been an enigma. He’s private to the point where you sometimes feel like you don’t know him at all. It’s why you’re so surprised when he invites you over to his main house which is basically synonymous with prohibited. He never invites anyone there, not even Jeonghan who’s known him longer than you have.

Your friend’s home is expectedly opulent and beautiful, but there’s also this ominous air surrounding it. Minghao remains silent as he leads you to the entrance. His somber attitude isn’t exactly uncharacteristic. He’s naturally quiet and serious, but right now he almost seems angry. You can tell his mind is far away, light years away even.

Before you can think to question him, he leads you to the living room and sits you down on one of the couches. His cold hands don’t move from your shoulders even after you’re seated. You look up at him in curiosity because he seems to be contemplating something.

“Don’t be angry with me.” His tone is softer than you’ve ever heard it, and you have to wonder what he’s done for him to plead with you like this. (Xu Minghao does not beg.)

Hands fall from your shoulders as Minghao side steps out of the way. Everything goes in slow motion from then on. He’s stepped out of the way to reveal a man who you recognize very well. Your heart jumps and starts to beat erratically as you take in his ethereal features.

What’s happening feels like a more intense version of what happened at the museum. Minghao’s friend(?) looks exactly like Josh. He even looks at you like Josh does.

“Y/N.”

The organ in your chest throbs at the sound because it’s so soft and pretty, just like it is in your dreams. He sounds so similar to Josh that you feel insane for wanting to run into this man’s arms like you always do with Josh in your dreams.

Your mind is a beat behind, and it’s only after this stranger called your name that you realize Minghao had apologized to you before he appeared. When you look over to your friend, he’s observing you carefully in a way you can’t understand.

“What’s going on? What is this?” You ask, feeling like you’ve been set up.

There’s a thick silence, and just when you contemplate on getting up to leave, the unknown guy falls to his knees in front of you.

“Please forgive me.”

Your eyes practically pop out of your head at the unsolicited apology. “I– What?”

The silence is uncomfortable, and you can only look back to Minghao for an explanation.

“You’ve seen Jisoo before—in your dreams.” Minghao says slowly as if it pains him to tell you.

Jisoo?

“When you told me that a man kept reappearing in your dreams, I thought you were being preyed on by an incubus.” Minghao chuckles bitterly. “But I was a fool not to see that the truth was much worse.”

“Incubus?” You whisper incredulously. “You mean those demons that fuck people while they’re asleep?”

Neither men react to your crude words. They’re looking at you solemnly as if Minghao didn’t just say something completely insane. None of it makes sense nor does it provide you with the explanation you demanded.

“You can’t be serious! Incubuses—“

“Incubi.” Minghao corrects you. He regrets it as soon as he sees the dark look on your face.

“—don’t exist.” You finish through gritted teeth.

“They’re not the only demons running rampant on this earth.” Minghao says as he shares a look with the man who is still kneeling in front of you. “Just look at the monster in front of you and you’ll know what I’m saying is true.”

This Jisoo guy looks nothing like a monster. Not even as he’s giving your friend the most withering glare you’ve ever seen.

“Don’t give me that look. I brought her here so she can know the truth.”

At this point, you don’t know if they’re friends or enemies with the way they’re glowering at each other. And you still don’t know what truth they’re talking about, either.

“Jisoo has been trying to find you for centuries.” Minghao finally says, eyes softening just the tiniest bit when he looks back at you.

You don’t say anything because it all sounds like some crazy lie. Minghao isn’t the type to pull pranks, but there’s no other logical explanation for what’s happening. And yet, it also isn’t possible that he could know what the man from your dreams looked like and somehow find someone who looks exactly like him for his prank.

“We’re vampires.” Jisoo says, voice soft and comforting. “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true.”

“Prove it.”

Your words come out before you can stop them. It’s not what you meant to say (not right away, anyway), but you don’t try to backtrack. On the off chance that they’re not pulling some elaborate prank, you need to know that you’re not crazy for kind of believing what they’re saying.

Minghao and Jisoo are looking at you with wide eyes, but the challenging look on your face doesn’t waver. They both know you enough to realize you aren’t going to believe them until they prove that they’re not lying.

Jisoo grins, but it seems bitter in a way. “Okay. Just… don’t be scared.”

You raise an eyebrow when his smile stretches further. It’s not until you see four of his teeth elongating into literal fangs that you feel your pulse start to race. His eyes have darkened into an inhuman shade of black that reminds you of a demon. Now you understood what Minghao meant when he called Jisoo a monster.

But that also means…

In a panic, you look to your friend. Much to your horror, he too is bearing those monstrous characteristics now. Dark eyes and fangs that make them look like the monsters they claim to be. It feels like you’re in one of your lucid dreams, and in the back of your mind you hope that’s what this is.

“Did you bring me here to kill me?” You’re surprised that your voice comes out as calm as it does, and even though you’re terrified, you can’t react how you know you should be.

“We would never hurt you.” Jisoo says, features slowly reverting back to normal. “No matter what, I won’t let anyone or anything bring you harm.”

It’s crazy that he’s promising you this with what feels like genuine sincerity, and it’s even crazier that it makes your chest warm with affection. You press your lips together, trying to make sense of how any of this is actually possible.

“You’re the reincarnation of Jisoo’s true love.” Minghao breaks the heavy silence. “He’s been searching for your soul since your untimely death.”

“That’s why you came into my dreams.” You whisper, not sure how to feel about this alleged truth.

“Yes.” Jisoo says, voice soft as ever. “I called myself Josh since it’s a modern name. You can still call me that if you wish.”

You stay silent, trying to deal with the onslaught of emotions you’re feeling without revealing any on your face. It’s hard, but you manage as you look back at your friend. “And you knew about this the entire time?”

“I didn’t know he’d been invading your dreams.” Minghao says honestly. “If I had—”

Minghao cuts his sentence short, and you can tell he’s trying his best to keep his emotions in check. It’s clear that he doesn’t like the idea of you being the reincarnation of Josh’s true love. You don’t understand why he brought you to meet him if that’s the case.

“Minghao.” Josh’s tone takes a threatening tone that you never thought him capable of emitting.

“Tell her.” Minghao says, clearly unfazed by Joshua’s sudden malicious attitude. “She has a right to know the truth before you think you can spend the rest of eternity with her.”

It’s silent for a moment before you see Josh’s shoulders slump. He looks slightly defeated and nervous. Seeing him in distress makes you uncomfortable, and you have to wonder if these are your actual feelings or something beyond your control.

“I first met you five years after I was first turned.” He starts, eyes begging for understanding. “You were running from a clan of demons who murdered your coven.”

The air is tense. You can feel your heart start to throb with hurt that you can’t place. A familiar burning sensation starts to poke at the back of your eyes, but you can’t understand why. “You saved me?”

Minghao clears his throat, eyes threatening.

“Unwillingly.” He admits, head hanging a little lower. “I was content in my solitude, and helping a witch didn’t sound appealing to me.”

“He also didn’t want to help a witch that belonged to the coven he helped exterminate.”

Minghao’s blunt statement makes your blood run cold. There’s a strange feeling that manifests itself in your chest. It’s an odd mixture of resentment, anger, and heartbreak. The feelings are familiar yet foreign. You feel the tears fall from your eyes before you can even think to hold them back. It’s all new information, but something in your bones recognizes the hurt and devastation.

“You killed my family.” The words aren’t yours, but in a strange way it feels like they are. “You almost killed me.”

“It was before I fell in love with you.” Josh sounds defeated. “Back then I was only concerned with my own survival, and I was a fool to let it get in the way of my love for you.”

Again, the air becomes tense. It makes Minghao almost regret doing this, but you ultimately have to know the truth. All of it.

“Tell her how you got her killed.”

More tears keep spilling from your eyes, and you can’t fathom the fact that they don’t feel like yours. A gentle hand wipes them away. Through blurry vision you can see Josh looking pained as he gently cradles your face in his large hand.

“I refused to go into hiding after the humans started to become more wary of our existence. Because of that, you and I were attacked by a group of hunters.” Josh feels a pain he hasn’t in centuries just talking about this to you of all people. “You protected me with your magic. I don’t know why you saved a wicked creature like me instead of yourself, but I really wish you hadn’t.”

The tears have stopped now, but Josh’s thumb is still gently caressing your face. His touch is cold yet comforting. You let out a shaky sigh, not sure what to do with all the information you’ve been given.

“This is why Minghao feels that I don’t deserve you, and maybe he’s right. But I’ve always been a selfish creature which is why I can’t give you up. Not in this lifetime or any other.”

Josh says it tenderly, but somehow you feel like you’ve become his prey.

Sometimes you wonder if letting Josh get so close to you is a mistake. Minghao seems to think it is even if he doesn’t tell you outright. Still, at least he’s supportive of your decision (as much as he can be, anyway). In spite of the fact that you now know the man of your dreams is a dangerous predator, you don’t feel unsafe when you’re with him. There’s also the fact that you can literally see the love he has for you every time you look at him.

Giving into him is the easiest thing you’ve ever done. It feels natural and right, especially since he’s so sweet to you. You feel yourself fall harder every time you’re with him. He knows you better than anyone and treats you like you’re his everything.

Your relationship feels completely surreal and fast paced, but in an odd way it also feels like it’s not fast enough. The feeling has something to do with your past life you’re sure. After all, Josh had been waiting centuries for you to reincarnate.

He must’ve been so lonely.

You suck in a quiet breath as the thought comes to you, one that feels like it came from deep in your subconscious and is not entirely yours. Josh’s eyes snap open at the sound. He’s looking straight at you from where he has his head in your lap.

“What’s wrong, darling?”

Unlike Minghao, Josh doesn’t have the power of coercion, but you’re still unable to lie to him. (Unwilling is a better term, but, details.)

“Did you really not have another lover after I died?” Your question isn’t accusatory, and part of you hopes he says yes. “Like you never even hooked up with someone else in three centuries?”

Josh’s airy laughter makes your chest warm. He brings your intertwined hands to his lips, placing a tender kiss on the back of yours. “If you do not believe me, I shall bring Minghao and have him use his gift on me.”

He’s teasing you, but you also know he’s dead serious. It shouldn’t thrill you so much that he’s willing to do just about anything for you—even subject himself to Minghao who still harbors a bit of a grudge towards him.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, I just…” You let out a quiet sigh. “You must’ve been really lonely.”

The way you look heartbroken and guilty isn’t satisfying, but it is alleviating somehow. You truly haven’t changed. The beautiful, kind soul he fell in love with remains intact, and he can’t be more grateful for that.

“At first I was. Then I met Minghao and joined his coven. They made it more bearable.”

You bring the hand that’s not attached to Josh’s to his head and run a gentle hand through his hair. “It must’ve been hard.”

Josh only offers you a hum. He can’t deny that it was, but he also doesn’t want to keep making you feel bad with all the details. That would have to be for another time.

“How many dreams did you invade before you finally found me?” You suddenly ask, wondering just how many psyches he had to go through over the course of 300 years.

“None.” His smile is a little bitter. “I’m not a incubus, so I can only enter your subconscious.”

The confused look on your face makes him let out a quiet laugh. It’s so innocent that it’s hilarious. Especially because you don’t remember that the restriction to his gift was your doing.

“Every time I tried to use my gift, I couldn’t. That’s how I knew you hadn’t been reincarnated yet. As soon as you were born I was able to tell, but I still couldn’t get into your psyche until you were ready to let me in—this is all curtesy of you, of course.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” He laughs. “Because I can’t dream, you bestowed this gift on me so I would be able to experience a dreamlike state again. Since you didn’t want the bloodthirsty heathen that I was back then to invade the minds of unsuspecting humans, you put all these limitations on my gift.”

His laugh is cute as he reminisces. It makes you smile too until you think of something.

The other day, Josh had mentioned he used to feed off of you in his past life because it tasted different and apparently it was like a kink for both of you. It freaked you out at first, but lately you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. Honestly, the more the image plagued your mind, the harder it was not to feel turned on by it. You wonder if it would hurt and if you would like the hurt.

“Do you want to feed on me?”

If Josh’s heart was capable of beating, he has no doubt it would’ve been harshly pounding against his rib cage. He slowly gets up, feeling his cock throb and his throat itch.

“Darling—”

“You’ve never done it, and I was wondering if it was something you want to do.”

Of course he wanted to do it. Your scent is mouthwatering, and he just knows you taste divine. Up until now he hadn’t brought it up because he didn’t want you to think that’s all he wanted. All you two have done this past month is share some kisses, and that was perfectly fine. If that’s all you were willing to give him he’s gladly take it so long as you let him be part of your life.

Josh swallows thickly as he contemplates his answer. While it sort of sounds like you’re offering, he can’t assume anything. Plus he doesn’t want to seem like the monster Minghao told you he is.

When you see him hesitate, you make a decision that really isn’t all that hard for you. With an enticing smile, you tilt your head the slightest bit and offer your neck to him. “Bite me.”

In a split second, Josh pulls you on his lap so you’re straddling him. You gasp quietly when he sits you directly on his hardening cock. His eyes are dark like on the day he revealed himself to you. In the back of your mind, you know this is a dangerous game you’re playing, but you don’t feel one shred of regret or fear.

“I’ll be gentle.” He promises, voice breathy and needy.

Josh trails gentle kisses up and down your neck with patience that you find impressive. His fangs tease the tender skin as he opens his mouth slightly, and it’s almost like you can feel it throb in anticipation. With one last sweet kiss, Joshua sinks his teeth into your skin until you can feel a stabbing pain.

You gasp out a moan at the feeling. The pain lasts a second before you feel it rapidly fade. It’s replaced by images that invade the forefront of your mind. Memories that you don’t remember rush forward as if they were aching to be freed from the depths of your mind. There’s so many, and in spite of the fact that they pass through your mind quickly, you see every one of them.

When you come back down to reality, Josh is still drinking from you. He groans into your skin, reluctantly pulling away and licking the puncture wound he’s left behind. Josh continues to press kisses along your skin and whispered praises that you can’t help but melt into him.

“Jisoo.” You breathe out softly.

Joshua freezes when he hears what you’ve called him. He pulls back, eyes wide as he takes in the way you’re looking at him. Your gaze has always been full of affection, but now it’s full of ardent love that reminds him of the way you looked at him all those centuries ago.

“I’ve missed you.”

“Y/N…” Josh sounds breathless as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“I’m sorry it took me this long to remember.” You murmur as your bring a hand up to caress his cool cheek. “But I guess it’s only fair since you left me first.”

“It’s my biggest regret.” Josh says honestly, grip tightening on you.

You hum, trailing your thumb over his lips. He opens his mouth the slightest bit so you can touch his fangs just like you used to do once upon a time. Goosebumps cover your skin at the familiarity of it all. The feelings in your chest deepen impossibly as you replay all the memories that slowly keep coming to mind. You thought it would be impossible to love Josh any more than you already did, but once again you were proven wrong.

You let out a shocked squeak when he pulls you closer to him. His face is shoved into the side of your neck that he didn’t bite, breathing in your addicting scent. “I was so afraid that you wouldn’t remember.”

“If you wouldn’t have been such a gentleman and bitten me sooner it wouldn’t have taken me so long.” You laugh, hugging him tighter.

The two of you stay like that until you shift and realize you’re still sitting on his hard cock. In a flash, the hot memory of Josh ravishing you back then goes straight to your cunt. You lick your lips and decide that you both have been waiting long enough to be with each other again.

“I’m impressed you kept your chastity just for me.” You purr into his ear, gently grinding down on his cock. “Such a loyal lover until the end.”

Josh doesn’t hesitate to take you to bed, cock aching to be inside you once again. He’s gentle when he finally gets you naked, eyes full of desire and love. “So fucking pretty.”

A breathy moan escapes you when his cold hands start to caress your body. His lips trails your neck, gently teasing you with his sharp teeth. Your skin heats up at the attention, and you feel like your floating by the time Josh gets his dick out to finally give you what you’ve been wanting.

“I missed you so much.” He groans as his throbbing cock slowly eases past your wet folds.

You moan along with him, hands finding his to lace your fingers together. “Missed you too, my love.”

Josh’s cock twitches inside you when he hears the pet name come out of your pretty little mouth. His leaking tip brushes against your cervix as your legs wrap around his hips. His pace is slow at first, trying to savor the feeling of your hot, tight cunt wrapped around him. He buries his face into your neck, licking and biting at the skin as his thrusts start to get tougher and deeper.

Your moaning is loud, and you’re amazed that he still knows which angels to hit after so much time. It’s like you’re seeing stars when Josh gently bites at your skin. He does it teasingly until you’re begging him to bite you again.

“Stop teasing.” You whine wantonly, hips bucking up to meet his thrusts.

His chuckle is low and has your pussy clamping down on his cock, drenching it in your arousal. You can’t remember the last time you were so turned on. It hasn’t been long, but it already feels like you’re about to come.

“Seeing you fall apart like this is my favorite thing.” You can feel his sinister smirk against your neck. “It’s been too long since I last saw it.”

Josh lets go of one of your hands to bring a thumb to your clit. He starts to rub slow circles on the sensitive nub as his thrusts grow more ravenous. You cry out in pleasure when his thick cock hits your sweet spot roughly. Your back arches in pleasure as you feel your juices start to coat his heavy balls.

“Never letting you go again.” Joshua growls lowly, more to himself than you. “All mine.”

With his possessive declaration, he sinks his fangs into your neck for a second time. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you violently come all over his big cock.

“Fuck!” You cry out, hips moving against his arms he continues to fuck you through your high.

He’s licking at your open would now, sharp thrusts angled just right to have you on the cusp of another orgasm. Joshua pulls back, pink lips painted scarlet with your blood. He looks ravenous, and you think you might actually come again from how hot he looks.

“That’s it, darling.” Josh sounds insatiable. “Cream all over me.”

It’s not long before the sight of you completely fucked out triggers his own orgasm. Thick ropes of cum shoot inside your pulsing walls, painting them white with his seed. His moans are as pretty as you remember, and they mix in with your perfectly as he fucks his cum deeper inside you.

“Fuck me again.” You pant out, still longing for the second orgasm he was coaxing out of you.

Josh’s smirks as he flips you over on your front. “Still as insatiable as ever, darling.”

You look back at him with a laugh. “Like you’re any better. So hurry and fill me up again.”

You’ll never get sick of the feeling of his cold skin on yours as he grips your ass. Josh’s large hands rub and squeeze before you feel his throbbing cock tease your messy cunt. You let out a needy whine, tilting your hips up more to offer yourself to him.

“Such a needy little thing.” Joshua murmurs in that mean but sweet tone only he was capable of having.

“Only for you, my love.” You mewl, pussy throbbing at the thought of him splitting you open again.

As is his style, Josh slowly pushes his fat cock into your hot cunt, making you feel every inch of him. Then, in a split second he shoves the rest in like he can’t wait to be inside you any longer. The jolt of pleasure and slight sting of the stretch was enough to tip you over the edge for a second time.

You muffle your cry of pleasure in the sheets, fingers clinging to the soft cotton as your pussy clenches down on Josh’s cock, making him feel even bigger inside you. He groans from behind you, loving how your juices coat his cock as if you’re claiming it as yours.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Can you do that for me one more time?”

It’s more of a rhetorical question because in the next second his fingers are digging into your hips as he pulls his cock all the way out before shoving it back into your needy pussy with a sharp thrust. You can feel your body tremble as your pussy grips his cock like a vise.

“So fucking tight.” He groans, voice dripping with lust.

“Fuck me!” You moan, pushing back on his cock with insatiable need.

At your desperate demand, Josh sera a brutal pace. He fuck you hard and rough, leaking tip hitting your sweet spot over and over again until all he can hear is lewd squelching and skin slapping. His hips slam against your ass, obsessed with the way your sweet crema coats his cock. You cry out his name as his heavy balls slap against your throbbing clit.

Josh is pounding you into the mattress, cock splitting you open deliciously. You’re so addicted to the feeling that you can’t help but spur him on. “Don’t stop!”

You cry out in ecstasy when he does exactly as you ask. He pounds his cock against the spot inside you that has you seeing stars. Your fingers grips the sheets as you bounce your ass back to meet his thrusts desperately.

“You’re close again, right, baby?” Josh’s voice is teasing. He doesn’t need to ask, though. He knows you are because he knows your body.

You’re moaning and shaking with overwhelming pleasure. All you can do is nod as you bring your hand down between your bodies to rub your aching clit. With all the stimulation from your fingers and his cock, you fall over the edge once again. Your body tenses as you moan out Josh’s name with ecstasy. The excess of your orgasm drips down Josh’s cock, staining it and marking it as yours.

With one last thrust, he shoots his hot cum inside you, moaning your name like a mantra. He sloppily fuck it back into you before pulling you flush against his chest. You two collapse back on the bed with Josh holding you closely as if he thinks you might disappear.

Slowly, you turn around with his cock still inside you. Joshua’s eyes are sparkling as he looks at you. “How are you feeling?”

“Amazing.” You breathe out blissfully. “And not just because you’ve stuffed me full.”

His cock twitches inside of you, and you can’t help but let out an endeared laugh. Your chest is warm as he hugs you closer to him, lips gently skimming over your puncture wound.

“Jisoo.”

He hums against your neck, pulling back to look you in the eyes.

“I was so afraid when I first died.” You confess, feeling him tense. You’re quick to pull him closer and caress his cheek. “Afraid that I’d be reborn and you wouldn’t be there when I was.”

Josh swallows thickly and comes to cup the hand that’s still brushing over his cheek. “I’ll never leave you alone again.”

“I know. Once you turn me, we’ll have the rest of eternity together.”

It all feels too good to be true, but you know that this is reality and not just another one of your sweet dreams.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo

#joshua hong smut #svt smut #svthub #joshua hong x reader #svt x reader #seventeen smut #josh smut #josh x reader #svt imagines #joshua hong imagines #seventeen imagines

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sinnomel · 1 year

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Absolutely Peachy

Pairing: Gale x f!Tav

Summary: Tav and Gale's conversation after Elminster's visit goes great. Slight angst but it ends cute imo.

A/N: First post breaking my very long writing hiatus to write about Gale because there aren't enough fics. Let me know if you'd like more one shots cause I think the world needs more Gale ( ´ ▿ ` ) - Sin

There was nothing in this world that could’ve prepared Tav for the surprise encounter with Elminster. She was hoping that she could meet the esteemed wizard under happier circumstances, perhaps when this damned tadpole was out from between her eyes, attempting to command the helm that is her brain.

The wise old man was jolly at first, introducing himself to the rest of the group, reprimanding Gale for his lack of decorum and grace. Tav thought nothing of it, inviting the elder to their camp, despite Gale’s scowl, awaiting for Elminster’s true reason for appearing before them in the shadow lands.

However, after the food and wine, Elminster’s visage seemed less friendly, less warm. His words were cold, concise, and fatal. Gale was to gain Mystra’s forgiveness on one condition - he was to essentially explode, destroying the curse within him and everything in a large surrounding area. It could rid them of the Absolute, of course. It could bring death to a lot of people if he decided to do this in or near Baldur’s Gate. Usually, this would be a decision that the group would push past, finding the cure for the tadpoles being their priority as the clock was ticking on them becoming mindflayers. However, this revelation had Tav’s heart sinking to the ground below her.

Tav had become particularly close to Gale, finding her feeling solidified after spending time with him in between camping and the battlefield. A complete accident on her part. There was something charming about the man’s rants, how his eyes lit up explaining the Weave, talking about his cat and how he would spend his days rummaging through the literature that covered the walls of his tower in Waterdeep. Tav never intended to fall for Gale, yet here she was.

It was clear as day what her thoughts on the matter were, as Gale had asked if everything was alright once Elminster and everyone else had retired to their respective tents and bedrolls. Tav was beside herself, “Am I alright? Absolutely peachy Gale.” Gale’s eyes held a hint of sadness as she continued. “I’m definitely alright. I’m wonderful knowing that Mystra herself has offered you forgiveness but only under the guise of the afterlife,” she spat. “Tav. I understand your frustration. Trust me, I too am frustrated with Mystra. But I can no longer satiate the hunger of the Orb that rests inside of me. There is nothing that I can do. This is my fate,” he explained, his hand twitching, as if involuntarily reaching out for her hand but stopping himself because she’s upset. He can only assume that his touch would only lead to more anger and hurt. If only he knew how much Tav yearned for his touch, how much she would fantasize it under the stars, sometimes without her knowing how she got to that topic of thinking.

“Since when have we ever listened to fate?” Tav asked, her gaze off towards the right where the water seemed to stand still and the only sound accompanying them was the soft crackle of the makeshift fire off towards the center of camp. “We have tadpoles that threaten our very existence. Every hour that passes, we teeter on the brink of becoming mind flayers. How long have we traveled together and not a single tentacle has sprouted?” she asked. Tav was breathing heavy, the conversation weighing on her physically. She couldn’t comprehend why he was giving in to this demand - his life was on the line and would he so easily throw it away? However, in that instance, Tav realized that this is coming from a selfish place. In this moment, Tav realized that the reason she was so uncharacteristically upset about Gale throwing his life away for the sake of Mystra’s forgiveness and to satiate the Orb maintaining its nest in his chest is because she has grown to love the wizard of Waterdeep.

Perhaps her eyes had given Gale indication that she had realized something, as he asked “Tav, what’s-“ “Do not ask me what is wrong Gale. I fear I realized something a bit too late. I do not wish to talk about it right now…it isn’t appropriate.” “Is it about me?” He intercepted.

Tav stumbled and said nothing. Her gaze was now on the dirt ground, her heart pounding out of her rib cage. She was silent for a beat, but Gale was patient. If she was willing to speak, he was more than willing to listen - it would be ironic if she listened to his rambling and he couldn’t do the same. Tav, despite just saying that she didn’t wish to speak on the matter, could not stop herself.

“I’m acting out of emotion rather than logic, Gale,” Tav started. Her eyes slowly made her way up to his own brown ones, making this conversation harder. She could feel her heart changing rhythm upon meeting his gaze, how her body yearned to be held in his embrace in this moment, how she craved a chaste kiss.

Gale seemed to put two and two together, or rather, what he thought was two and two.

“I know this seems very obscene and I may never be granted forgiveness. Trust me, I don’t wish to die. But Mystra wants to rid the world of the Absolute. My demise might very well be the only thing that could stop-“

“I love you.”

Gale was taken aback and fell silent, completely off guard by the three sweet words he would often dream of hearing from Tav’s lips. Perhaps he had imagined it? He dared ask, hoping his imagination, or the amalgamation of his heart beating so thunderously in his chest wouldn’t disrupt the orb.

“Pardon?” Gale asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he took a step toward her. “I love you Gale. I don’t want you to succumb to that entitled goddess for my own selfish reasons,” Tav started, unable to stop her words from coming out. If not now, she felt, when? Who knew when Gale would just decide to commit to Mystra’s possible false promises.

“There is always another way. We’ve constantly found alternatives to problems. Please…don’t go through with this. Do you not wish to live?” the appointed leader of the group asked the man before her. She could feel the warm accumulation of tears threatening to pour over the edge of her tear ducts, the shakiness of her breath not helping her.

Gale was speechless. He didn’t know what to do. He always painted this picture of how he wanted to profess his love to Tav - a beautiful sunset in Waterdeep whilst both of them spent the hours in his tower, two glasses of wine served out for them and Tara, his cat in his company, along with the countless books he seems to have. The piano would play songs from their travels to incite conversation of nostalgia, how they felt in those moments, laughing about their perilous travels. And when the sun hit the golden hour, the sky would be adorned with pink, orange and purple clouds, he would place his forehead on hers, his gaze focused on her soft lips and utter…

“I love you.”

But they were here, in this camp, the conditions of his profession of love not met. Perhaps this was how it was supposed to be because he wouldn’t make it back to Waterdeep. Perhaps he won't live past a couple nights from now.

“Gale…Say something,” Tav said, her voice cracking, two tears escaping their captivity, trailing down her cheeks. Gale couldn’t think of any words. Instead he chose to react, slowly closing the space between them. His hands made their way up to her cheeks, softly wiping away the stray tears. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was torn. He very badly wanted to rid himself of the Orb and obtain Mystra’s forgiveness, but on the other, he had Tav, who had seemingly loved him unconditionally. None of his magic was necessary to woo her. Not his history of being a prodigy of magic, not his mastery of spells, not his conduction of the weave. Just him.

Gale couldn’t help but close the space between himself and Tav, placing a soft kiss upon her lips. In this moment, he forgot all about Mystra and her empty promises, the orb, all of it. All that occupied his mind was Tav and how soft her lips felt against his own. He pulled away, staying close.

“I love you too.”

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale x tav #gale bg3 #gale x reader #bg3 fanfiction #gale dekarios x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #Tav

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saudrag · 4 months

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i feel spock in such a specific way which a lot of fanfiction (almost none) does not capture.

i would like to read a fic about spock struggling with his feelings for jim, completely spock’s POV and spock-centred.

about spock feeling extreme shame each time his heart sings with love for jim, each time he is so close to expressing this emotion he hates. (which is illogical, and love too is illogical, and spock feels so helpless about the turmoil of his emotions he abandons food and sleep in order to meditate more). spock who does not act in any way on his feelings but who is not entirely in command of his body reactions to jim the first moments it sees him after another near-death experience. spock feeling, again, deep shame for his involuntary responses. spock trying to suppress his feelings, trying so hard to remain calm and failing. spock fluctuating between being in total control and indulging in his human side, between “vulcans do not feel” and “when i feel friendship for you i’m ashamed”.

not really angst, just a lot of… internal fighting and disappointment and shame and irrational anger and spock feeling not enough vulcan and not enough human. and when that cup spills it’s when the 5 year mission ends and spock decides that he had enough of his own inconclusiveness and indecisiveness and goes to vulcan to completely get rid of his emotions.

and he still failes.

spock, with his hair grown out, wearing ceremonial vulcanian robes (that he does not need no more), and with a heart that still feels, despite his every attempt, finds himself aching, wanting, needing to be near jim, finds himself belonging to him. belonging in a way he never belonged to the vulcan, much less to humans. in a way he never did belong to them. and that’s when he knows that this love is not a curse, but a fate, if there even is one. and he knows there is nothing he can do to suppress that love, that yearning (he tried), that both his logic and emotions tell him, for once, to do the same — to return to jim, to his side, and to belong to him fully in any way jim would want him, forever.

#spock #idk #star trek #spirk #thoughts #any recommendations chat?

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vanillasann · 7 months

Text

His World, Your World

Pairing: Venti x gn!reader

Genre: Angst <3

Summary: He loves his nation and you just almost as much. For Mondstadt is his world and he'd do everything he could to protect it. Even if it costs his life. So when you have to choose between his death or his nation's, he begs you to choose his. But will you?

TW: Major character death (u), but nothing too graphic. English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if there are many grammar errors! <//3

Note: I've been dying to write something since last, last, last year/? but my lazy ass is stronger than me. This draft has been in here for a year. But oh, well, at least I write something now. I've always loved 'Which would he choose? You or the world?' trope and also inspired by a fanart I saw months ago; Venti hates you because you chose him over Mondstadt, but sadly I forgot their username-.

It's not a secret for anyone to know the fact that Mondstadt is Venti's home. It won't even be an overstatement to say that Mondstadt is his world.

For him loving it oh so much; even greater than he value his own life. For it was what his friends had always been wanted. For it was what his friends had been fight for.

He loves it dearly with all of his heart. He loves the people in it; his people, his children. He loves the freedom his nation has. And for it, he'll do anything he could to protect it. Even if the cost that he must pay is his life.

What to lose? I am but an archon that has long ago left my nation anyway. They'll be just alright without me, he thinks.

There are so many words that could describe Venti. He is a God. An Archon. An immortal being. A cheerful person that is allergic to cats. A drunkard bard. But never even in his mind that he'd ever could be described as a lover.

A lover who loves his partner passionately. A lover who cares so much about his partner's well-being. A lover who will go out of his way to comfort and cheer them whenever the world gets too mean towards them. A lover who vows to his partner that he'll protect them with everything he has.

Venti knows that he's rather friendly with all his acquaintances. Yet he never thought about even the possibility of him falling in love with someone, let alone a mere mortal being, for he is an archon.

At least that's what he thought. Until he met you.

You, who make his heart thump like crazy, feels like knocking hazardly in his chest. You, who make his day a bit more brighter just by getting a thought of your voice calling his name. You, who make him smile like a drunk man even when he hasn't chugged any bottle of Diluc's dandelion wine. And you, who make him addicted of your all.

He tried to shrug it off as his form of interest towards you. Nothing big, just a little crush that will wilt over time, he thought back then. But that little crush was and is still growing wildly every time he spends his day with you. Making a flower garden that he himself can't seem to get rid of, for he has gotten fond of these feelings.

He cherished every moment he has with you, whether it's just strolling around Windrise or visiting Diluc with Kaeya. Whether it's mundane things like joking and making a fool of himself just so he can hear a chorus of your laughter he so adore or a pretty night when he asks you to join him to stargazing in Starsnatch Cliff.

He loves you so much that he even drinks wine less just so he can spend more time with you. He loves you so much that he writes songs about you so that the world knows how amazing you are that even an archon fell head over heels for you.

He loves you and his nation just almost as much; with all of his heart, with everything that he has. That he'd sacrifice anything else if it means he could keep his nation and you safe.

So when you are faced with a big choice that had to be made, he pleads- no. He begs you to choose his doom.

While Venti is a lover who yearns nothing but to spend a lifetime with you, his love, he also is Barbatos, an archon of a nation. He couldn't imagine his life if you'd choose him over his nation, his world.

He begs and cries and sobs to you while clings like you are his lifeline.

Who you are to decline his pleas?

But while you understand his position, you couldn't help but feels like he's selfish. Oh so selfish to sacrifice himself so no one would die. Because while yes, everyone might just be alright, but- what about you?

You who had loved him so much, too much in fact, that you'd choose his life over yours, even over the world, for he was yours. You who had given him everything you had and gave in to his every whim and plea every single day without fail. You, who can't even think about your life without him and his laughter.

And Mondstadt will not last that long without him anyway, you tried to justify yourself in front of a mirror silently. Blank stare at your broken state reflection.

But the flashes of his dying heart and broken scream and tear-stained face of sorrow, because he lost his nation, make your stomach churn and tighten your chest that you can't draw even shallow breath. A realization hit you; He couldn't live without his nation, and vice versa.

That much is what you need to know to make the decision. You clean yourself as much as you can and go to make it.

Underneath the sunset glow and under the tree in windrise you two stare at each other deeply with an empty smiles, trying to pretend everything is alright.

"Are you really sure about this?"

"You promise you're gonna be happy?"

"You promise you're gonna be fine without me?"

He nods at every question you throw at him, even with a trembling smile and tears that threaten to fall, he stands his ground. He answers your questions like he knows what you'll choose after his pleas and begs. Because you'd never say no to him, for you love him too much.

He'd accepted his doom. Anything for his nation to be safe and for you to continue your life, even without him.

But then why?

Why is your form slumping against him in his embrace as if you don't have any strength to even hold it anymore?

Why are you rubbing his back softly and whispering apologies for what you've done?

Why are your breathing and your heart slowly fading away despite him holding you so tight against him?

Why is he screaming your name repeatedly with uncontrollable tears that fall while he tries to shake you awake when it should have been him who won't respond to yours?

Why is he can't do anything despite him being a God, an archon, to bring you back by his side?

Why would you trade your place in his stead as a sacrifice?

Venti doesn't understand.

Or rather, he doesn't want to. For he forgot that he knows a fact.

That while Mondstadt is his world, Venti was yours.

#venti x reader #venti angst #genshin x reader #genshin x you #venti x y/n #genshin venti #genshin #genshin angst #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x reader angst #venti x you #venti x reader angst #genshin x y/n

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chocsra · 8 months

Note

yknow tht chuuyas friend got killed during the dragon head conflicts, right?(source dead apple) yea, wht if reader was one of them. letter fics reader confessing her love to chuuya and him finding it after she died.

"Tainted With Sin, Weakness Comes From Love."

16! Chuuya x implied fem! reader

summary: chuuya finds your letters to him after your death in the dragon head conflict

content: angst, heavy mentions of death, swearing

There, the boy remained victorious.

Others would furrow their brows, feel their heart clench into an impending drop. The utter and impeccable fear of such a small body, a young boy who yearned for nothing but a reason - a purpose, holding such power. He was as if he was sculpted by a passionate artist, a woman who presented herself as a 'mother' - soft orange locks, the ever glow of his skin that never left his face, and a harmonic assortment of features, those features that made him special. A child who was stringed together like a melodic harp by a mother is every child, and that was Nakahara Chuuya. He too, was a child.

At least, he felt like one.

"Chuuya," A tall, ginger woman speaks solemnly, clasping her hands together elegantly, as always. "here - [Y/N]'s stuff." Kouyou passes a large cardboard box to the boy; items like notebooks, pens, photos, and sticky notes. It had only been 14 days after the Dragon Head Conflict, and yet, the world's lost all sense of art: skies have been less blue, birds more or so melodically sing mantras of sorrow, rather than blissful chirps. Maybe it was because of his comrades who died, maybe it's because you were one of them, or maybe, it's his brain using his frustration with the world against him. In this box, consider it pandora's box of humanity - perhaps the sight alone brightened the sky, awakened the birds. You existed, and so, he longs to feel your existence once more. Be it through letters.

Chuuya runs his fingers along a folder of letters you've written. He'll close his eyes and pretend it's your skin - he'll close his eyes and make out each indent of each thought, each question you held for the universe on that paper.

Dear Chuuya,

Happy Birthday! You finally turned 16, loser. You're all over the Port Mafia, you know? Double Black is so goddamn popular I've been approached by people I don't know asking if we're friends. So ahem, here are my birthday wishes for my boy best friend - the only one I share my gossip to that isn't a girl.

You get taller.

You find out what the hell happened before you were 8.

A girl would finally like you or something - rare, I know.

You finally get a dog. PLEASE shut up about it :)

Thank you for being my friend, even though you lose your shit when we play UNO with Albatross. Get good, kid.

Sincerely,

- [Y/N].

The redhead can practically feel himself scoffing, even though it was more like a chuckle, before sealing the letter once again; a small smile tugging on his lips even though he finds himself wiping a bit of tears from his cheeks.

"Why did it have to be you?.." Chuuya chuckles, swallowing thickly to cover the strain of tears spilling out. Crystal tears were never a threat to the boy - once again, such things like a heart doesn't suit him - yet, he finds it ironic. Maybe you had it all along.

The boy, molded by the hands of divinity, stringed together by an otherworldly being, was nothing divine. Nakahara Chuuya reigned from torture, yearned for retribution, and became an artist - one acquired dazzlingly with revenge. He took the vessel of himself he loathed and despised it with his entire being. Arahabaki was no divine being, nor a mother who lovingly caressed and loved with dainty hands. He was a monster, Chuuya was too. But from the rippling shackles he's restrained himself to, there was an angel, sacred and divine, who chided him for his hatred, his sorrows, his regrets. You too, knew how it was like to lose, to betray and be betrayed, and yet, you would never bring those to him again, but it seems once again, you've failed.

You were an angel, his angel, a light in the sky that he never failed to follow. And yet, you too fell from heaven's gate. Chuuya, who has been by your side for years, never dare touch you - Nakahara Chuuya may taint you with his sin, ruin the wings that guide him through the light. But shit, as an artist of revenge - he'll repaint it with regret.

To grow from a child, child of hatred to man of soul, touch will remold him to his feet. Rebuke his despondency. Chuuya regrets, for his only reminder of your skin was your life slipping through his fingers like ash.

To be Chuuya's angel was to lace his hair in between your words.

To be Chuuya's angel meant you were going to be immortalized.

To be Chuuya's angel meant that was only going to happen once he's lost you.

Yet he still flips the page.

Dear Chuuya,

I like you.

I thought love was foolish. A four letter word, and one syllable of absolute bullshit. Love is only a fixation in TV shows and movies. Love is a weakness, and contrary to popular belief - love cannot save you.

But you saved me. Countless of times.

The first being when I botched an assignment miserably. I was about to sacrifice myself before you kicked all the enemies' asses! You even took the blame for me.

The second was when I ate too much during a celebration and you had to bring me home safely.

The third was when you didn't say anything after I farted in a closed elevator.

Maybe you're stronger than love, then. You're Chuuya Nakahara, the strongest ability user in the world. But, even if I fell for you - it's not because of your strength, or protection. I genuinely like you, Nakahara Chuuya, not the strongest ability user, but the boy who sought a past, the boy who longs for a wine collection, the boy who cries watching dog movies, the boy who thinks chokers are a fashion statement.

Don't think because you define yourself as Arahabaki I will too. You're so much more than that.

But eh, who cares anyway, its not like you know how to read or write.

Love,

- [Y/N].

The boy who sought a past, felt himself shatter, because now he actually he had one. A best friend of his memories. An angel only in his dreams. A desire he could only do so much but reminisce. But contradictory to your previous statement, Nakahara Chuuya could read, even write now.

All because you taught him.

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porcelainseashore · 3 months

Text

Into the Ether (13)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary: At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, alcohol, drug references, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, religious themes, minor character death, RE ensemble, VtM concepts.

Authors' Note: Suggestive themes ahead. I’m vacationing for a few weeks, so the next update will be on 24th July!

Taglist: @admirxation @angelstargel @miss-oranje-disco-dancer @delulusimps ❤️‍🔥

AO3 Link

Chapter 13: Hunting for Witches

A cool hand lay against your cheek, brushing away the loose strands of hair that had fallen across your face in your sleep. Rousing from your slumber, you snuggled up against Leon’s naked body in bed. It was cold as death, but you didn’t mind. Gradually, warmth radiated between the two of you like an exchange, almost on autopilot, as you transformed into something more human.

His cerulean eyes greeted you, crinkling at the sides as you pressed into his lips, sucking on the bottom sensuously, coaxing a soft moan from his throat. He took this as an invitation to pull you into his lap before pinning you underneath him, his mouth and tongue exploring every part of you that you had to offer. From your neck, your chest, to your stomach, he feasted on you, savoring your body and leaving a trail of electrifying kisses in its wake, just as he had done a thousand times the night before.

The apartment was still semi-trashed back then, but that didn’t stop you and Leon from continuing where you left off after the first round. On the couch, over the kitchen counter, on top of his desk, against a pillar, along the stairs, and finally, in bed. Sometimes you rode him, your breasts bouncing as he embedded his fangs into them, causing you to tug at his hair and cry out in wild ecstasy. Other times he flipped you over, thrusting into you as he held your hair, your wrists, or lifted your hips to stimulate you from different angles. You returned the favor in each position, digging your teeth into his shoulders or wherever you could have him. He groaned, gratuitously taking the Lord’s name in vain, his face contorting in delirious rapture. The Beast rattled the bars of your cage, its demands ever-present at the back of your mind, but you couldn’t care less, at least for the night. In the end, you were spent, laying on the crumpled sheets covered in blood, sweat and cum.

And now, here you were, reliving the memories of yesternight as you rocked against his hips like you couldn’t get enough of him.

“Mmm… angel,” he sighed lusciously into the shell of your ear, cheek-to-cheek, with your arms thrown around each other, and his gold cross necklace swinging and touching your skin. “You feel so good like this.”

“Can’t believe you’re all mine,” he whispered under his breath, grinding into you deeper.

Sex with him in this moment felt nice and pleasant, like being enveloped in a warm, cozy blanket, but the sensations were muted. Something was missing, and you yearned for more.

“Wanna feel even better?” you teased playfully, extending your canines as you moved your mouth towards his chest.

However, to your surprise, he stopped you gently, cupping the base of your neck with his hand, and breaking you out of the stupor of your lovemaking. “No, wait—” His eyes sparked with worry. “We shouldn’t do this.”

Your face was marred by confusion. “Huh, why?” you sputtered, racking your brain as to what you might have done wrong. “Our appointment with Rebecca isn’t until later in the night.”

He smiled melancholically at you, rubbing your neck tenderly as he kissed you. “I can’t let you be blood bonded to me,” he explained. “You’ll end up becoming my thrall if you drink from me so often. It only takes three nights over the course of a year, and then you’re hooked.”

You bit your lip, attempting to negotiate further, “But wouldn’t this only be our second time?”

Twirling your hair with his fingers, he emitted a quiet laugh and shook his head sadly. “You’ve already drunk from me twice. The first was when I Embraced you.”

You slumped back in dejection, letting out a heavy sigh.

He continued to caress you in devotion, as if to compensate for the disappointment. “You’re already showing signs of being attached to me,” he warned, noting your reaction to the news he had just delivered. “It’s too risky.”

Framing your face with his hands, he professed, “I love you with all my heart. And I will never, ever, take advantage of you like that.”

Even though the addictive desire still burned fiercely within you, there was an understanding that he was essentially looking out for your wellbeing, as opposed to his own selfish needs. Yet, you wanted to hear it from the horse’s mouth.

“What was it like… with Ada?” It puzzled you that merely uttering her name ignited a spark of jealousy within you. Was this one of the effects that Leon had talked about rearing its ugly head?

He shot you a grimace, his jaw clenching for a split second, but then he confided, “It was like being in a foggy dream. Sometimes it seemed as if my mind wasn’t my own. All I wanted to do was to please her; I lived for her praise, and even so, I was never worthy of her. When she was upset, I felt like I wanted to die.”

As he shifted himself in your arms, you held him like fragile glass. “Don’t get me wrong, I loved her before any of this happened. But with the bond, I wasn’t my own person, and that’s… not love.”

Pursing your lips, you accepted his answer. The words ‘abusive’ and ‘dysfunctional’ came up — terms you had been familiar with at some point and would rather forget. You imagined a couple in the most toxic, codependent relationship possible, ruled by jealousy and obsession. He never wanted that for you; your free will in whatever you had together mattered more to him than anything else.

Your hand flew to his, grasping it in appreciation as his lips met yours again. Settling into a cuddle, another topic crossed your mind.

“When I bit you, I saw things in your past, images of you like you were a ghost,” you confessed, your fingers tracing lazy figure eights along his chest.

“I know,” he replied, his eyes regarding you serenely. “I saw yours too.”

You inhaled sharply, anxious that he’d glimpsed into some of your most private memories.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he reassured you, running his fingers through your tousled tresses. “It reminded me of being human again.”

“Do you think it means anything?” you wondered.

“Perhaps an anomaly in the blood. I’m not an expert on this though, the Tremere are,” he offered, mildly frowning in thought. “I had planned to ask Rebecca about it too, if she’s willing to help.”

He peered at you as though something had struck him. “Do you mind?”

You beamed fondly at him, nudging your nose against his. He was seeking your permission. “No, go ahead. I’d like to find out for myself too.”

“I wanted to ask you—” he paused, deliberating on his next statement before he spoke. “Who was the one who broke your heart?”

Your lips curled into a bitter smile as you dodged his question with a joke, “Why? You’re gonna kill him for me?”

“Just say the word,” he quipped back, winking as he planted a quick kiss on the back of your hand.

Light laughter filled the room until it became silent again. “Someone who wanted to control me,” you mentioned casually with a shrug, trying to downplay its significance. It was a long time ago, but the experience still left a sour taste in your mouth. “I couldn’t question him; everything I did was wrong, and he was always right. When I wouldn’t give up everything for him, he left.”

Leon reflected on what you had said, noticing certain parallels between the guy’s behavior and his own. But unlike him, Leon wanted you as you were, not a puppet to be contained and gift wrapped in a box for his own enjoyment. You would always have a say in this relationship, and if the time came where you wanted to go, he was prepared to honor that.

Gazing resolutely at you, he concluded, “I would very much like us to be equals.”

Your eyes found his, connecting, searching, and feeling, as respect and adoration blossomed in your chest.

“So, no bonds, no more sire and childe bullshit?” you murmured, encircling your arms around his neck.

“Yes,” he breathed before sealing the pact with a kiss.

━━━━━━━━━━━

“Shame that we can’t call housekeeping,” you jested while helping Leon sweep up and vacuum the remaining pieces of broken glass from the floor.

“Thought you didn’t like being treated like a princess,” he smirked, loading up the laundry machine with stained and bloodied sheets. Emptying the rest of the detergent into the compartment, he pressed the cold wash button. Maybe he’d even need to bleach them afterwards.

Both of you had taken a much-needed shower earlier, rubbing soap off each other’s backs and grooming yourselves to an acceptable standard. Settling into your newly evolved relationship still took some time. You’d eyed each other bashfully under the running water, as if you hadn’t already been fucked within an inch of your unlife by the man before you.

When the final chores had been completed, you and Leon made your way over to the Spencer Mansion again. This time, you were greeted by the Tremere Primogen instead.

“Good evening.” She beckoned the two of you to follow her as she slipped into the shadows, heading towards the basement level of the compound.

“We’ve been busy dealing with an organizational restructuring, so unfortunately, we could not entertain you earlier,” she briefed as you descended with her into an underground tomb, which then led out into a grandiose courtyard. Thankfully, there were no weird sensorial perceptions or flashes of nefarious undertakings.

“As you can see, Mr. Arias has been relieved of his position, and we’re currently in the process of securing a suitable replacement,” she explained as you entered a hidden tunnel on the other side of a waterfall.

“So he’s still around?” you quizzed, wondering if you’d need to watch your back if you ever accidentally bumped into him in the future. He didn’t seem like the type who would take kindly to supposed traitors.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She turned back and flashed a wily, cunning smile. “Don’t worry, you won’t be seeing him anytime soon. He’s been put to other uses… that are more befitting.”

You didn’t want to imagine what had happened to him, but it was certainly a fate worse than death. Leon intertwined his fingers with yours, giving you a look of reassurance, as if to say, “We did the right thing.”

“Oh, you Toreadors,” the Tremere Primogen teased, her eagle eye picking up on even the most discreet actions. “How romantic.”

Your face burned with embarrassment, and you were about to tug your hand away when Leon held onto it firmly, unafraid to show his affection for you publicly.

The network of tunnels you went through were convoluted and winding, though the woman in front of you navigated them with ease. Torches along the walls ignited with blue flames as you passed, bathing the area in an enigmatic, mystical luminescence. Finally, you reached a metallic door which opened up into an underground vault.

“Welcome to Arklay Laboratory,” your guide said, gesturing around the room. It was lined with rows of incubation and cryogenic tanks, all fitted with state-of-the-art control panels. Various specimens in petri dishes fought for space alongside the computers and monitors set up to analyze them.

At the far end of the room was a young, petite woman with a brown pixie bob cut, wearing a lab coat. Repositioning her black, rectangular-framed glasses higher on her nose, she leaned in to take a closer look at various 3D diagrams on her screen. Her radiant blue eyes perked up as she enthusiastically scribbled something down on her clipboard.

As you waltzed over, she directed her attention towards you, her lips curving into a bright, cheerful smile.

“Rebecca,” she announced, sticking her hand out in warm welcome.

After a round of introductions, the Tremere Primogen took her leave, indicating that she would be back within the hour.

Sipping her drink from a takeaway coffee cup, Rebecca closed her eyes, pausing to let the flavors unfold on her tongue before nodding in appreciation.

“My concoction.” She extended it like an invitation to you. “Wanna try it?”

Leon looked extremely hesitant, but seemed to hold himself back to allow you to make your own decision.

“What kind of blood?” you questioned warily.

“Secret recipe.” She shrugged with a wink.

After a while of staring at her in suspicion with no answer, she gave in. “Alright, alright! It’s part of the Prince’s pet project, or at least one of them. I test and refine his herd purity and suitability, and then play bartender to find the perfect match for his tastes.”

The Prince’s herd. A bunch of humans who agreed to let Wesker feed on them. They were most likely addicted to ‘the Kiss’, which was another word for a vampire’s bite.

“Imagine a cocktail like, um, Bloody Mary!” she exclaimed, giggling at her own pun. “Get it? Right, well, take a shot!”

Gingerly, you brought the cup to your lips, ignoring the peach pink lipstick stain at the rim as you sampled the shimmering liquid. The flavor was rich and complex, and the more you tried to dissect it, the more notes you got.

“Mmm, not bad,” you remarked, impressed with her mixology skills as you handed the cup back to her.

Leon still refused the offer. “Someone’s gotta stay sober,” he rationalized, passing it off as one of his many quips.

“Ah hah, so you’re the designated driver!” Rebecca laughed, playing along to erase any remaining tension. “Anyway, you came to see me about memory stuff?”

“Yeah, the attacks,” he concurred. “The culprits had their memories wiped, but we need them back.”

Tilting her head, she curled her fingers under her chin and scrunched up her face, deep in thought. “No can do,” she finally replied, still maintaining a jovial tone despite the seriousness of the subject matter.

“Wait, what?” he coughed out. It was hard to tell whether he was astonished or seething, maybe a mixture of both.

“You’re talking about someone who probably used Forgetful Mind and Mass Manipulation to rewrite someone’s memories. Once they’re gone, they’re gone, buddy! Nada, zero,” she emphasized.

“So, you’re saying there’s no way of retrieving them? Like, at all?” you pressed, sensing that Leon was reaching his breaking point.

Humming to herself, she assumed her thinker’s pose once again. “Well, I suppose…” she paused, squinting at the two of you. “Do you have them on video? I need to see them with my own eyes.”

At this, Leon stepped forward, pulling out a battered, ancient-looking laptop from his satchel before setting it on her desk. Switching it on, he plugged in the thumb drive Hunnigan had given him and opened one of the files.

“These are the interrogation videos of the remaining three in custody.”

Rebecca scooted closer to the screen, cranked up the volume to the max, and scrutinized every single detail of the culprits’ expressions. You turned away, not wanting to witness such brutality again, though there was nothing you could do about their screams.

“This one!” She jabbed excitedly at the screen. “Look at his gait and the way he’s slurring!”

“Could you translate that into lay-Kindred’s terms?” he asked, a perplexed expression brewing across his face.

“All is not lost, we may have found our guy!” she stated, unable to contain her elation at the discovery. “His behavior is showing that something still lingers in that mind of his, possibly because someone experimented with using both Dominate and Dementation together. And on top of that, with an entire group.”

“Hm, looks like they did a shit job of covering their tracks then,” he mused. “So, where do we go from here?”

“There’s two ways, but I highly recommend the latter,” she began, pacing around the room and waving her hands animatedly as she spoke. “Of course, you can always take the longer but safer route and coax the Kindred to recover his memories naturally through therapy and treatment. However, something tells me you don’t have the luxury of time.”

“We don’t,” Leon confirmed.

“Then this calls for the more adventurous method, but we only have one shot at it. Or rather, I only have one shot at it,” she clarified. “There’s a ritual I can perform on him to piece back his memories like a puzzle, but there’s a catch.”

Making a rolling motion with his hand, he urged her to elaborate.

“He won’t survive at the end of it.”

“No,” you protested immediately, moving towards Rebecca. Leon accompanied you, but again, he remained true to his word and made no effort to restrain you. “There has to be another way.”

She peered at you sympathetically, her brows furrowing in contemplation. “I wish there was, but this is all I know,” she sighed. “If it’s any consolation, his Final Death will be relatively quick and painless.”

Placing his hands on your shoulders, Leon caressed them comfortingly, his eyes meeting your worried gaze. “These Kindred are going to die a slow, torturous death by Jill otherwise. It’s not ideal, but what Rebecca is offering here sounds like the most humane option.”

A mercy killing. You were torn between what to do, though you appreciated that while Leon offered his opinion, he respected you enough not to impose it on you. Covering his hands with yours, you gave them a soft squeeze, bringing them together in front of you. You brushed your lips against his knuckles in silent gratitude before addressing Rebecca, “Can you tell me how it’s done?”

A subtle smile graced her lips as she observed the tenderness and care you shared for each other. “Sure, I’ll keep it short,” she promised. “The Kindred needs to be doused in a special flame that will also destroy him. It should be over in a second though, not like the actual agony of burning to death. Then, I’ll need to eat his ashes to regain his memories.”

“You mean, you’ll need to enter into Memoriam?” Leon suggested as uneasiness crept into him and his expression darkened. This could either be your golden ticket in the investigation or lead to a complete disaster.

“Yes,” she admitted. “I’ll be incapacitated then, sorting through and mending the guy’s past. Therefore, I’ll need someone to keep watch and escort me back to the present, so to speak.”

Pursing your lips, you realized that this was the best chance you and Leon had at uncovering the truth. It was also the easiest compromise you had to make at the start of your unlife, but there was no better alternative presented. Yet, if you could alleviate someone’s suffering, why wouldn’t you do that? you reflected, taking your time to weigh out the pros and cons before casting your final vote.

Glancing over at Leon and then Rebecca, you nodded. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Before leaving, Leon made sure to follow up on the other topic that had been lingering on his mind. He had posited it as a theoretical question, wording his sentences carefully. What were the chances of experiencing each other's memories and even the future through the mutual drinking of blood?

However, Rebecca was no fool. She picked up on the hint right away. “Hmm, this is about you two, isn’t it?” she asked, despite already knowing the answer. Swiveling around on her office chair, she tapped the tip of her pen on her chin with a cheeky grin.

“Just answer the question, please,” he groaned.

“Talk about being a downer,” she huffed. “Anyway, that usually happens from diablerie, but since your auras are clean—”

“Hold on a sec,” you interrupted, frowning at a term you didn’t recognize. “Diablerie?”

“Yeah, when you literally eat another vampire,” she disclosed. “Like, drain them, steal their soul, that kinda thing.”

Raising a hand to her mouth, she whispered, “Also highly illegal!”

Leon cleared his throat, trying to get her back on track. He was determined to get an answer regardless. “Apart from that, no leads?”

“I may have heard of something similar,” she asserted, patting her thighs rhythmically. “But I’ll need to do more research on it. Very fascinating!”

Grabbing a sticky note, she wrote down an address and gave it to him. “I’m there most nights between three to four. If you want the report on my findings or need my help again after the ritual, we can meet. Saves having to go through Regents and whatnot.”

Taking a peek at the paper, you realized it was a location on the outskirts of Raccoon City, near Raccoon Bypass. Interesting. You wondered what she got up to there.

Leon appeared pleasantly surprised by her actions as he thanked her, stuffing the note, along with the laptop and thumb drive back into his satchel.

“By the way, I’d prefer if you kept the last part of our conversation to yourself,” he added.

“No problem, Detective!” she chirped, giving him her trademark thumbs-up sign.

He scoffed, shaking his head. “That’s P.I. for you.”

“Yeah, whatever!” She waved him off with a blasé attitude. “See you tomorrow at Elysium.”

You stifled a snicker as Leon shot you a withering glare. Guess you’ll be in trouble later.

━━━━━━━━━━━

“Why are you protecting them?” you asked after he’d told you about Claire’s findings.

Lying in Leon’s arms in bed, remnants of your kisses littered his body. Smeared lipstick on skin; you’d sucked hard, but not enough to bite. In turn, he’d grabbed you tight enough to bruise. Your presents to each other before dawn, and when nightfall came, these traces would disappear, reverting back to how you were, as if you’d never touched at all.

“The same reason you’re protecting Lucas,” he murmured into your hair, grazing his lips against the top of your head. “The Anarchs… they were my family.”

“Well, mostly the Redfields,” he corrected himself. “We’ve been through thick and thin together.”

You pulled him closer as he combed his fingers through your locks. “Then why did you leave?”

Sighing wearily, he paused, debating on how to proceed. “It was because of Sherry,” he divulged at last. “Wesker threatened to hurt her.”

"I tried to get her out of there, but she was too addicted,” he confessed, his voice cracking as the color drained from his face. “She didn’t want to go… and it’s all my fault.”

Too addicted to the Kiss. You’d been at Elysium twice by now, and seen a couple of these so-called ‘blood dolls’ scattered around with a docile, vacant look in their eyes, and that same haunting smile. They were like junkies waiting for their next fix, and there was usually a Kindred or two holding onto them possessively like predators who’d found their perfect meal. You shuddered at the thought.

It was true that Leon had been responsible for Sherry’s captivity. He was no saint, and neither was he pretending to be one. Like Patrick had said, what mattered to you was what Leon wanted to do next. He was trying to right his wrongs, and that had to stand for something.

Adjusting yourself to meet his eye level, you enveloped him in a comforting embrace, cradling his head against your chest. “However you plan to get her out of there, I will be right behind you.”

He peered up at your determined gaze without questioning it, feeling his adoration for you grow with each passing second. “I’ve been trying to figure out a way to reverse the effects of the addiction, but it’s not so easy.”

“Do you think someone like Rebecca could help?”

“Maybe, but one step at a time. We need to get through tomorrow night first,” he cautioned. “I’d like to see her in action before I place any further trust in her.”

“Okay.” You nodded, letting him take the lead on this case. “As for the Anarchs, I won’t say a word.”

“Thank you.” He brought your hand to his lips, kissing it intimately as he buried his face deeper between your breasts, treating them like a pillow.

You chuckled softly, allowing the rise and fall of your chest to mimic his breathing. “Leon?”

“Mmm?”

“I’m not sure if they’re any better than the Camarilla,” you admitted. “Heisenberg’s kind of a creep—”

“He’s a dickhead,” came his muffled reply.

You burst out laughing. “That’s what he called you.”

Leon snorted, and it felt like he was blowing raspberries on your skin. You squealed at the ticklish sensation and wriggled about as he came up for air, grinning from ear to ear.

“Of course he did.” His mouth twisted into a slanted smile. “Prick.”

Both of you exchanged smirks as you toyed with his necklace, twisting it around your index finger. “I don’t know if I want to take sides anymore.”

At this, his expression grew serious. “I’ve often wondered the same thing, but it’s dangerous not to,” he warned.

You locked eyes with him. Blonde over blue; blue into gold, like water and sand spilling onto the sheets. “Wouldn’t it be worth it though?”

For a moment, he nearly said yes. Instead, he answered, “It’s a dream I wish I could share with you.”

“A dream that could become reality,” you argued.

How could he forget your stubbornness? He loved you all the more for it. Cupping your cheek in his hand, he conceded, “I’m not saying no, but we should get some rest.”

A wave of drowsiness crept over you and your eyelids felt heavier after being reminded of it. You were in that strange state of waking and sleeping, like being in the twilight zone. Yet, you struggled to remain conscious, your vision fading in and out as you slowly sank into the mattress.

Leon was struggling similarly, though he managed to make out a promise to you. “We’ll talk more about it, I won’t forget…”

With his final gasp, he touched your lips, barely whispering, “Sweet dreams… angel…”

And then his breathing stilled. His heart stopped, just like yours. Bodies cooled, but the bed warm.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil #vampire au #vampire the masquerade #vtm #crossover #fic: into the ether #porcelainscribbles

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the-insomniac-emporium · 5 months

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Liminal (RL!Mia Winters x MC/Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil 8/Resident Lover Genre: Fluff and angst and fluff and angst Rating: Idk T? for blood. kind of. Warnings: Major character death, major spoilers (mainly implied) for Resident Lover, minor violence (not in detail) Summary: Mia's memories layer over each other, nineteen lives and hundreds of different loops, confusing and muddling her perception of the present. There is only one constant: Love. Notes: Less of a series of scenes and more like a lot of musing, with a tiny, tiny "scene" at the end. Most of the Mia/MC vibes are implied (referenced past fwb situation, but it's implied that they had feelings beyond that). References to the MC dating a few of the other characters because loops.

She doesn’t intentionally seek the memories out, doesn’t chase the heart-killer of nostalgia, the wretched thing hiding rot behind a shiny facade. But neither does she spend any effort to avoid the trappings of the past. When the moments come, when deja vu greets her, Mia only ever lets it wash over her. Peacefully. Hauntingly. After this many lives, it is the easiest lesson to heed.

Sometimes the memories come with a smile, a soft exhale that flows into a snicker. The first time she watches you on stage, pouring your heart out as Romeo, she can’t help but remember having to help you cram for your Language Arts final. Recalls the way your lips pouted after a particularly exasperated sigh; she can trace the mental image of the way those lips curled back into a smile at one of her dumb jokes. It’s the joke itself she can’t remember. A jab at Shakespeare, probably, the man an easy choice of target.

There’s a moment (it repeats, by God it repeats, a dozen times over the loops, every instance layered on top of the last) where she sits next to you on a couch meant for three. Instinct makes her legs twitch, yearning to prop her feet up on your lap, not letting anybody sit between you. Instead, she suppresses a smile, and watches as one of your roommates all but sits on top of you. It doesn’t matter which one; in Mia’s eyes, they’re both better than Miranda, if only in this moment, for this purpose.

Other memories make her breath hitch in her throat, words stuck to the sides of her mouth like cotton, another stone to sink in her stomach. These are the ones that blend together the most, twisting further with every loop, muddling her perception of which life she’s in. Most come by accident, echoing the way she’s met you before. A bump in the hallway, papers scattering, both crouching down to pick everything up. Sudden rainfall making you scramble to share an umbrella, going back and forth between who gets most of the cover. Teaming up to take down the reigning asshole at whatever drinking game the campus is currently obsessed with.

“You look familiar- have we met before?” You’ll ask, once in a blue moon of a loop, except this time it’s more than reuniting with a childhood friend. This time it’s reaching out to pluck the heartstrings of your soulmate. One of your soulmates, that is. Mia’s response only ever comes with unearned confidence, mirth dancing on her tongue, deflecting, deflecting, denying- a hint of flirting, maybe, when she can afford it. Getting you to blush had been a favorite pastime of hers, once, twice, many times. Even if it never extended into anything more official than sharing a bed.

Seeing you at parties makes her feel like so little has changed. Always the same drink of choice, always too readily egged on by friends. If she squinted, it would be easy to put herself in Daniela’s place at your side, and so Mia never lets her gaze linger for too long. When the cups get too deep for you, it’s far too easy to stop herself from intervening. She never did before. Even when she should have. Those are the timelines where Angie does more for you than Mia’s past self could ever dream of.

It almost makes up for the time she finds your body crumpled in front of the doll’s car, crimson splashed across the bumper. She stares, only for a moment, wondering when she stopped feeling anything at the sight of your corpse. Then she catches a glimpse of three familiar fanatics in the crowd, makes note of the way their horror differs from those around them. Figures their attempts at keeping you out of the spotlight would go too far, eventually. Figures that the real nostalgia greets her fingers as they wrap around the handle of her knife. Revenge was an old friend- just one rarely visited these days.

Hard for her to thrive on revenge when she’s got the bloodiest hands of them all. Strange how the feelings shifted over time, guilt warping into freeing comfort. The first time she killed you, the first time she brought on a new loop across a knife’s edge, she almost threw up. Stared at the deep cuts and lost herself in the memory of finding Miranda cradling your lifeless body, the end of your past incarnation. It made her stomach churn, made her heart drop, and fully solidified her need to make sure the loop would meet a perfect end (the only way to guarantee you’d never meet that fate again).

By now, the blood flows freely, remorse a trinket left forgotten on dusty shelves. It’s for the best. Better her than someone else, better for her to soak your bond in blood than to let it rot in the open. Ending the loop fills her with relief, with joy, as she invokes her promise to give you not just a happy ending, but the right one. She loses track of how many times she’s knocked you down or out, how many loops she’s filled with blood, how many times she’s allowed you the comfort of bleeding out in her arms.

Ironic, then, that you never accuse her of murdering you, only someone far less important. More ironic yet that the finger of blame forces her to recall the life that bound your souls together. But that memory doesn’t perfectly layer over the present, when she’s not burning by your side, dying with your name on her lips. The way you look at her almost makes her miss the flames (the next moment she focuses on has your hands touch in passing, knuckles brushing up against each other, and she feels an entirely different kind of fire).

There are times where she wonders how much you remember. Not consciously, not truly, but which memories are etched into your soul itself. Now those are the moments that test her resolve, that tempt her to chain herself to pursuing the past the same way that Miranda does. All it takes to make her heart stop is for you to tilt your head to the side, eyes not quite narrowed, a sly smile paired with a twinkle in your eye. Something about that expression always lets her know you’re on the verge of remembering something. Half of the time you’ll follow it up with a carefully worded question, never sure if Mia feels the same deja vu that you do.

Your timing isn’t always perfect; she can’t blame you, not with the way her memories layer over each other, fighting to see which controls her present.

One hand in her pocket, clutching her switchblade, the other placed gently on your shoulder. Now that the election is over (again. how many times have you won? why do you never walk away, even when Bela begs you?), she needs to remove you. But your eyes light up as soon as she touches you. Head tilt? Check. Sly smile? Check. You should be scared by the way she’s looking at you, by the way she has you cornered on the balcony, but somehow your mind has skipped past the familiar danger and right into the familiar flirting. Aren’t you supposed to be in love with Bela this time around?

“Care to dance?” You ask, offering your hand. How long has it been since the two of you danced?... Not since Miranda refused to go with you, a lifetime or two or five ago, long before the loop. Mia had been the one to ask you then. Her expression now must mirror what yours had been that day. Surprise, amusement, and adoration. Of course she agrees.

By the time Bela interrupts, the way she does in too many loops, Mia is grateful. It had been hard enough to avoid kissing you in that past life, it was almost impossible now. Still, the Dimitrescu stands frozen for a moment, her own layered memories not finding any match for the sight. She’s supposed to be tackling Mia, knocking her off the balcony, body breaking in the bushes below. Neither of them move, trying to calculate a route to familiar endings.

Mia misjudges her decision, ruins the feelings, guarantees that you’ll harbor a hesitance to dance with her for all loops and lives to follow. She holds your hand, she holds her knife. She holds your hand, she takes your life. For once, Bela is the one who’s two steps behind, her shove coming too late, even if it still carries Mia off of the ledge.

Death never takes either of you for terribly long. Miranda pulls back the fog of limbo, breaks the rules, makes the void spit you both back out, resetting the loop. One wakes up with memories of everything, the other with only impressions. Lingering pieces of nineteen strange dreams, and a hundred futures cycling over one another with interlocking grooves, the only set pattern being love and love and wretched, bloody love. Mia doesn’t chase the nostalgia, doesn’t seek out the ways she knows will lead to love, to the familiar warmth of your heart next to hers. Why would she? All roads lead back to you.

#it's messy it's lovable it's conceptual #but at least I finished it #mia winters x reader #mia winters x mc #mia x mc #resident lover #resident lover spoilers #mia winters #reader insert #there are a lot of tidbits that didn't make it in because they didn't match the vibes of memories well enough #but good insp for future stuff

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astarionancuntnin · 3 months

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Die For You (Chapter 7)

summary: you wake up to the harsh realities of your new life, and realize that your lover is terrible at keeping promises.

rating: E

word count: 5.9k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader, reader is tav)

cw: 18+. angst, abandonment issues, impulsive reader, alcohol abuse and using alcohol to take advantage of someone, visual depiction of violence, blood/vampire bites, smut, oral (f! and m! receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, praise kink, blood as an aphrodisiac, light choking. full list on ao3

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I was given a heart before I was given a mind

A thirst for pleasure and war, a hunger we keep inside

We fell from sky with grace, and life gave us a sweeter taste

You can drink, you can feast

There's beauty in your beast

Pain.

Raw, gut-wrenching, agonising pain.

Your awakening into your undead life is nothing like your last moments alive. Where your death had been bliss, lulled to eternal sleep as you were still basking in the aftermath of your climax, your rebirth is violent. Every bone in your body hurts as you suddenly regain consciousness, not with a new breath, but rather a monstrous hunger. Your vision is red, and there’s a faint metallic aftertaste in your mouth that you yearn for, as a churning in your stomach makes you twist in agony. It’s even worse than what you had gone through during the days spent in your cell; claws ripping you from within, an urge to devour anything and everything on your path, a never ending pit inside you, it’s–

“Shh, you’re alright my love. There, there, drink.”

Someone’s arm surrounds your shoulders, keeping you sat, as a cup is brought to your lips, and you do just as the voice commands; drink, until there's not one drop left. You go through its contents as if it was the air you needed to breathe. Whatever it is, you want more. You need more. It’s barely enough to keep the pain at bay, lest satisfy your hunger. The air around you is suffocating you; you need to get out, need to fix the pain. You fight through the hold the person has on you, as you muster a rough “more”.

“Aren't you a hungry little pet?” The voice speaks up again, less distant than it was before your first drink. “Hm, I suppose you deserve it for going through this. You've been so very brave.”

He turns around to fill the cup once more, and as you force yourself to take a deep breath, you smell the unmistakable scent of bergamot, rosemary, and brandy. The aroma brings you a familiar comfort, and you don’t know what it is about the voice, but it soothes you. Even though you can’t quite put a name on it yet, you feel secure, and you stop fighting the man’s embrace. When you’re finally calm, he brings another cup to your lips, only to pull it away when you try to grab it.

“Ah ah! Careful now, this is your last one for the time being. You'll have to learn to control yourself.”

You growl as you reach for the cup, violently gulping as you drain it dry and lick your lips for any remains of the cup’s content. Although the cup felt big in your hands, it also felt as if it was barely filled. You drank the liquid in mere seconds and, surprisingly enough, it was all you needed to ease the unbearable pain you woke up in. The world gets clearer, the ringing in your ears tones down; you’re finally able to make out where you are and who’s holding you.

Your beloved, your Lord, your creator.

You’re glad to see that, as promised, he stayed by your side, and he’s taken care of feeding you. With you calm at last, Astarion takes the empty cup from your hand to leave it on your nightstand, before bringing his attention back to you.

“How is my precious consort faring?”

“I… I’m fine now,” you clutch down at your stomach, noticing that the hunger was gone as fast as it appeared. “Thank you.”

“Of course, little love.” He smiles down at you. “And It’ll only get better, I promise.” He kisses the top of your head before you lay your head against his chest, still wrapped between his arms, as he strokes your hair. “Try to rest for now, you'll need all the strength you can get.” His voice sounds like a lullaby, a soft melody that brings you the warmth you had lost within.

Someone knocks at the door, and you can’t quite make out what they say in a rush – something about a shipment – or even who they are, but they sound alarmed. They didn’t even bother to wait for an answer before barging into your room. Whatever he says has Astarion pull away from you too soon, leaving you alone in bed in a disgruntled state; barely covered by the satin night dress you wore the night before, with your messy hair all over the place and blood tainting your chin.

“I need to attend to some matters that I’m afraid I can’t leave unchecked, I’ll do my best to take care of it as fast as possible.” He says, his tone back to its cold, methodical self, as he stands in front of your mirror, straightening his jacket and fixing his hair, making sure the reflection before him was the depiction of perfection, before turning to you. “Can I trust you to be on your best behaviour?”

You frown in disbelief before turning your gaze away from him, pensive.

He’s already leaving. He promised…

He walks back towards you, noticing your disappointment, and bends over the bed to take your chin between his fingers. He brings you closer to him once more and wipes away the blood remaining at the corner of your lips with his thumb.

“Come on now, my treasure. Don’t you want to be wonderfully obedient for me? I promise, I will be back before supper.”

There was something about the way he looked at you, the way his voice resonated in your mind long after he stopped talking, how he held you just right. Something about being his; body and soul. He knew just how to act towards you to make you surrender to him. Your walls break down and you nod, caving into his demands. You trusted him enough to take your life, you could extend your trust a bit more, he’s not going to abandon you now, right?

He licks his thumbs, tasting the leftover blood and hums. “That’s my girl.”

As his hand sneaks into the base of your hair to pull you into him, you part your lips to welcome his lips embracing yours. He lightly pulls at your hair to tilt your head, deepening the kiss, and you melt into his embrace. Should you still have the need to breathe, the air would’ve left your lungs in this instant. He parts from you, admiring the state he put you in one last time as a smirk appears on his lips, before leaving your room without another word. Supper was hours away still, so this would give you time to do anything you wanted, and you were free to roam the palace after all – it was as much his as it was yours now – and with your new nature, you couldn’t risk going outside with the blazing sun, unless you wanted an awfully painful death.

You quickly pick and put on a casual dress from your wardrobe for the day and start your research within the palace. As expected, the kitchen only has food meant for the living. All of it extorted disgust out of you now, the smell alone made you retch, putting an end to your search of this part of the building almost as soon as it started. You walk down the hallways, opening any door that wasn't locked to give it a peak, out of the mere chance that it contains anything remotely interesting for you to discover, only to be faced with empty rooms, for the most part. To your despair, all things that could’ve been worth your attention were locked and out of reach behind a single door that remained locked. When you ask Amedee about it, she only mentions that, “some places are only meant for the Master’s eyes''. You don't notice the day go by as you search every nook and cranny of the palace waiting for Astarion’s return; from the biggest room to the lowest dungeons. You have never been more frustrated as your search ended, tired and anxious, and with nothing to speak for it.

When you go back to your room, defeated, you notice the sun had set, and yet, Astarion was still nowhere to be seen. On your very first day as a vampire, in the very first instant of your transformation, he left you to fend for yourself, breaking one of the only three rules you had instated. A familiar impulsive idea crosses your mind, and without the Lord of the house to stop you, you pick a dark cape, along with some gold from his office and leave for the nearest tavern. This is where you would drink away your pain back in your living days, the thought of experiencing this again is comforting after the day you had.

“My Lady? Where are you going?”

As you make your way to the exit, your personal servant intercepts you.

“It would be better for you not to get involved, Amedee.” You keep walking until she moves in front of you, blocking your path.

“Far be it from me to contradict you, but the Master explicitly requested for you not to leave the palace!”

“I’ll follow the Master’s demands when he respects mine!” You push her aside to make it to the door when she grabs your wrist, stopping you right before the door.

“I would really advise you against it please–!”

When you look back at her, it’s with a boiling anger in your eyes, an anger that should be directed towards Astarion, you remind yourself, not her. She’s just following his orders, you tell yourself, preventing yourself from acting irrationally towards her.

“Amedee, I don't want to hurt you. Let me go, now.” Your words are gentle, but your voice sounds like a warning.

She looks at you with eyes pleading with you to stay, “I’m sorry my Lady, but I can’t let you go. He ordered it.” Her grip on you tightens and you understand the implication of her words. As much as you had appreciated her recent company, it was going to take you more to stop you from falling back into your old habits.

“I’m sorry too.”

Before she can react, you flip your arm around, making her twist in pain, before knocking the back of her head with your elbow, effectively knocking her unconscious. You look at Amedee with a pain in your chest, before walking out, slamming the door on your way out.

You had no intention of following anyone’s orders.

—

The tavern you reach is filled with mostly men, of all ages and all races, and in the past, chances are you would’ve bedded one – or a few – of them after a couple of drinks, but that wasn’t your goal this time. Your intention tonight is to get wasted, absolutely and utterly hammered, and you don't intend on leaving until you can’t walk properly; this was always your go-to to deal with high emotions, and it's not death that was going to change your ways. What you didn’t yet know was that your new vampiric powers made you unable to get inebriated. Not on alcohol, anyway. So you drink – for almost an hour – and the more you take, the worse it tastes, but you feel absolutely nothing. That’s until a charming, young tiefling approaches you.

“Let me offer you something more convenient for a lady like you.”

He smelled delicious.

Your bitter attitude quickly makes place for a pleasant smile, “What would you suggest?”

“How about some plum wine?” He orders two cups for the both of you and cheers before taking a first sip. You imitate the gesture only to grimace behind your cup. Just like the previous beers you’ve had, this drink is simply sour. Nothing would ever taste good anymore. Nothing, aside from whatever this tiefling had on him, Gods, the smell was simply intoxicating. It was almost unbearable to keep drinking this piss for wine when he was right there, hiding away that sweet nectar from you.

That’s when you get an idea. A terrible one.

“This is… nice, but I’m more the kind of girl who enjoys stronger drinks.”

“Oh? Is that so?” He leans closer to you. “Tell me, what’s your poison of choice?”

“Only if you promise to share a bottle with me.” Your voice is lustful and your hand easily finds its way on his thigh.

He smiles lustfully, “I think I might be tempted.”

You’re surprised by your ease to charm the man. You might’ve bedded countless strangers in the past, it usually took you at least two bottles of wine to get touchy with strangers, let alone get near them at all. This realisation gives you a sudden confidence boost and you find yourself getting closer to the tiefling, and open up your cape to reveal the plunging neckline of your dress which highlights your generous chest. You know your action has the desired effect when you notice him biting his lower lip at the sight of your breasts, unable to look elsewhere.

With the man now completely enchanted by you, you take a step further to secure your catch of the night. You order “the strongest drink you have” from the server, and you start drinking along. As the bottle gets close to empty, the tiefling grows more and more inebriated, while you are as fresh as the moment you stepped in. With the bottle almost empty, you throw some gold over the counter and whisper in his ear “let’s take this party somewhere else”, before grabbing him by the wrist to guide him out of the tavern. You don’t make it that far, as your thirst was guiding your every step and it was only growing stronger.

At the next corner, you pull him into an alley far from any scurrying eyes and abruptly pin him to the wall with your newfound strength.

His eyes widened in surprise, “Hells lady, I didn’t take you for a woman of experience.”

Poor guy, if only he knew.

He was barely able to hold his own weight, he looked downright pathetic next to a creature of such power as you. You take one, long sniff at him, taking in his aroma; he smells of plum, peaches, and bergamot, and unlike the food from earlier that reeked, the fruity notes he wore were as pleasant as you remember it from your living. Before long, you cover his mouth with one hand, tilting his head away, and dive your fangs into his neck in one swift movement. The moment his blood hits your mouth, relief overcomes you, finally indulging in the drink you didn’t know you had been waiting for all night. This man’s life be damned, you needed this, and you couldn’t handle any more teasing.

You feel him trying to scream and fight his way out of your hold, but it's no use; as every sip you take makes you stronger, and him weaker.

And you drink, and drink, and drink, until he's limp and you can't feel any more of the warm liquid coming from his neck.

You finally understand how Astarion felt that night he first drank from you. You're happy. Ecstatic, even, but a bit drunk. That was a lot of blood for your first time, but it was perfect to satisfy you. You feel as if you could take on an entire army by yourself, finally, strong once again, stronger than you’ve ever been.

It’s only as you pull back and the tiefling’s corpse falls to your feet that the weight of your actions dawns on you, taking you out of your blind confidence. A sudden panic rises in your chest when you realise what you’ve done, and you backtrack out of the alley, until you accidentally bump into someone.

“Hey, watch where you’re going!”

That’s when you recognize the familiar voice, and you freeze in place, hardly believing it at first. You wipe off your mouth with the back of your hand, hoping to get rid of any evident trace of your feeding before turning around to face the voice.

“Shadowheart?”

She steps back in shock when she recognizes you as well, choking back a sob as she smiles, before she rushes to embrace you tightly. You reach out slowly to hold her back, still processing the shock of her presence. You’re confused by your own reaction, shouldn’t you be happy to finally see her again? Why were you… afraid?

She finally pulls back, after what feels like an eternity, to take a look at you. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“I… sent you a letter,” your voice is quiet with hesitation.

She sighs, “Ah, I just got back to Baldur's Gate, I’m afraid I haven’t received it – where were you?!” She reaches out to cup your face when her smile is replaced by worry almost instantly. “By Selûne, you’re freezing.”

“I’m fine,” you try to brush it off, reaching out to pull her hand away from your face almost in disdain, when you see her eyes flash in horror.

“You’re hurt!” She exclaims as she grabs your bloodied hand to inspect it. “Who did this to you? Are you in danger?”

“I’m not hurt!” You raise your voice, snatching your hand away from her forcefully, and in the lighting of the full moon, that’s when she sees your eyes.

Your brand new, ruby red eyes.

She gasps, her hands flying to cover her mouth as she takes a step back, connecting the pieces together in horror.

“Gods, no… what did he do to you?…”

You pull your cape back over your head as you avoid her gaze. “He didn’t do anything… I did. I asked him to transform me.”

“But why would you?! After everything you told me… what could make you change your mind? What did he say that could possibly make you do…” She pauses, looking you up and down, “this?”

You shake your head, “I–” The words get stuck in your throat, unable to explain to her what had happened just the day before. “I don’t expect you to understand, but–”

“You’re right, I don’t.” She says, cutting you off. “You do realise that the last time we saw each other, you wanted to forget about him? You considered leaving the city, with me.” She reaches out for your hands and looks for your eyes. “Nothing is stopping you from doing it, you can still run away from this, from him–”

“I don’t need protection!” You growl, snatching your hand out of hers as you back away. ”He’s helping me.”

“Whatever for?!”

You pause just before the answer makes it to your lips, as you realise just what you’ve become, and your face softens as you speak up. Your voice is but a whisper as your eyes fall to the ground before you. “Revenge.”

She scoffs, “You really do make quite the pair.” She sighs heavily, now shaking her head. “You’ve made your choice, clearly there’s no stopping you, but… I won’t stand here and watch you go down that path.” She looks up to you with sad eyes as she backtracks. “I hope you find whatever it is that you're looking for, truly.”

With those last words, she turns and slowly walks into the noisy tavern without giving you another look, leaving you alone with your thoughts in this empty street.

You, your thoughts, and the body of the man you had just killed.

Shit. The body.

You suddenly remember your actions and go back into the alley to do your best attempt at hiding him away – which turned out to shove him inside a barrel that you hid behind more boxes – before running away to the Crimson palace.

—

As you step back into the palace, you’re instantly faced with Astarion who had seemingly been pacing around the entrance, belittling Amedee, who was awake once more, for what you assume was letting you get out of the palace. He becomes furious the second he sees you, speaking up as he rushes towards you.

“Where were you?”

“As if you cared.” You brush him off, walking past him as you make your way to your room, when he puts his arm in the way to stop you and lean over you.

“Believe it or not, I was extremely worried,” he says, his voice darkened.

“You don’t need to be! I’m stronger than I’ve ever been, all thanks to you.” You taunt him, trying to move away from his intimidating form, but he cages you under him.

“Do I need to remind you who is out there?” He almost shouts, lowering his voice to continue. “You were supposed to stay here, where you are safe, and you deliberately ignored my only command.”

“You can give orders to your other spawns, but don’t get to command me, remember?”

He growls under his breath, “You’re making this very difficult for me, pet.”

“I’m not your fucking pet!”

As you roar, Amedee and a tiefling spawn you recognize from your days in the dungeons move carefully towards you, with the intention to restrain you, but they stop in their tracks when Astarion raises his hand to them.

His attention remains on you, but something changes in his eyes, his tone becoming suddenly cold, “Don’t make me compel you now.”

“Why don’t you try.” You push him backwards as you say your last words, and he barely moves, only stepping back to keep his balance. “Go on! Break yet another one of your promises. Compel me.”

He looks up to the two spawns, commanding them. “Leave us.”

They look back at each other before the tiefling tries to speak up, “My Lord, are you sure–”

“Now!” He shouts.

They bow and quickly leave the hallways, leaving you both alone. When he looks back at you, he seems more composed, but just as stern as before. “As much as I want to, I won't control you.” He stands upright once again, taking a deep breath. “I will respect your wishes, as difficult as it may be.”

“It seemed rather easy for you to abandon me merely minutes after I awoke as a monster,” you spit out.

He sighs, “It hurts me so dearly when you see yourself as such. My darling, you are so much more than that, and so much greater than a mere spawn.” He pauses, his gaze piercing through you. “No, you are my consort.”

You get more frustrated by the mention of the title, as if being his most beloved spawn changed a thing. You continue, your voice slowly rising, “I am not your prized possession, and I will not let you treat me as such. I should be free to do as I wish.”

“We spoke about this, dear. Circumstances changed. Once that’s settled, I would gladly let you parade in the lively streets of Baldur’s Gate as much as your heart desires.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms. “It isn’t as much parading as it is haunting when night comes.” Your anger leaves room for despair. How you had gotten there, how you had let yourself be guided by the simple means of revenge… “I should’ve known better than to trust you.”

He leans over you, stopping barely inches apart from your face, his breath hot as he murmurs against your ear.

“I did exactly what I promised I would do; I shared my gifts with you.” He grabs you by your chin, pulling a gasp out of you as he forces you to look at him when he growls, “And I intend on showing you exactly what I mean.”

You don’t get to react as he grabs you by your wrist and walks away, pulling you along with him. When you walk past your room and approach the door to the dungeons, a dread starts to set in within you.

“Astarion, where are you taking me?” He ignores your question as he keeps walking, and you try to pull away only to feel his grip on you becoming tighter. “Astarion, answer me!”

Your fear is replaced by confusion, as you walk past the dungeons, and enter a room you’d never been in before: the only room you noticed was locked earlier. As he drags you inside, you observe that it highly resembles yours, aside from the gigantic mirror placed near the bed.

He slams the door shut behind you and locks it, before walking back to you, “I never, ever, want you to think of yourself as nothing less than a goddess. Do you hear me?” You back track until you hit the wall on the other end of his room and his arms fly to the side of your head, caging you under him. His aura is dark, possessive, and not a single coherent thought inhabits you when lowers himself, leaving but a breath between you two. “I said, do you hear me?”

“Y-yes.”

“You – are sublime.” You blink anxiously, and you swear you could feel your face grow warm from his words. They were said with such admiration, yet his tone was bordering on madness; you had never felt so incredibly small under him. “Let me show you how I mean to worship you.”

As soon as the last words leave his lips, he removes the cape from your shoulders, before ripping your dress open, completely ruining it. As you stand almost bare before him, he notices the blood on your pale skin, and he smiles as he reaches out for your hand.

“Oh? Did my little treat have a treat of her own?” he purrs, licking the blood from your hand, and a sinister chuckle escapes him. “Poor bastard probably had it coming. Tell me, dear, how did it feel?” His tongue trails from your hand, along your arm, up to your shoulder, leaving a faint kiss there before whispering. “To take a life?”

A short puff of air escapes you, before you manage to speak up. “It was… terrifying… and exhilarating… all at once.” You didn’t need to breathe anymore, but it didn’t stop your breathing to become fast paced as he continued to kiss your body, down to your navel.

“What about his blood? Tell me exactly how he tasted.” He pulls your panties down painfully slowly, as he sinks to his knees, while staring right into your eyes as he waits on you.

“He was… sweet. We had plum wine right before– ah–!” His hand finds its way between your legs, slipping right between your lips to find the accumulation of your desire. “Astarion…”

“Don’t let me stop you, dear. I want to know every sordid detail.” His fingers continue their rumination, encouraging you to retell your experience. “Go on.”

“We– we had wine, plum wine, and I could taste it in his blood.” You struggle to complete your sentences; between having Astarion on his knees before you and him fingering you, it was difficult not to. “He– Gods, he tasted like peaches, and– and bergamot–”

“Bergamot, huh?” He interrupts you. “Even when you’re looking to get away, it seems as if your senses bring you right back to me, don’t they?” A small cry escapes you as his fingers enter you, picking up a languid rhythm.

“I wasn’t– mmh– I… wasn’t looking to get away from y– you. I– ahh…” You try to grab onto the wall for support, as your legs start to give out while his fingers coax your inner walls, and his thumb teases ever so slightly your sensitive bud. ”I was mad at you.”

He removes his fingers, dipping them into his mouth to taste you, “Mhh, I suppose I deserve that. I promise, I will absolutely treat you with the utmost attention moving forward.” He places his face between your legs, and pushes your legs over his shoulders, his arms circling over your thighs, giving you the support you need to stay up. “Starting now.”

He dives right into your cunt, his skilled tongue lapping over the mess he made of you. He growls against your entrance, as he tongue-fucks you, and his nose provides a delicious friction over your clit. You reach out for his head, grabbing onto his silver curls for support, and you feel him roar between your legs, the vibration sending a delicious wave of electricity through you. You buck your hips against his face, chasing the relief his tongue was providing you, while your moans only grow louder and louder.

In this position, he couldn't say much, but you begged him nonetheless, “Astarion, please, don’t stop.”

There’s nothing but him in your mind, him and his devilish tongue working wonders.

“Believe me, I want nothing but to ravish you, my dear.”

You look down on him with a frown, not understanding how he was able to speak so clearly when he was very much drowning in your juices. Breathless, you ask, “What– How did you–”

“Our minds, little love.” He answers in your mind, without ever stopping his labour of love. “Our bond is stronger than the one of regular spawns. They can only receive commands, but you, as my dark consort, can communicate back and forth with me.”

You remain silent, processing this new information, when you see his eyes looking back at you, still ravishing you. “I told you you were special.”

“But how–”

“You’ve already opened yourself to me, now, reach out to my mind.”

You close your eyes, focusing on his presence; his hands firm over your thighs, his soft curls brushing against your skin, his tongue devouring you, his nose teasing your clit, pushing you towards the edge…

“Oh, Astarion…”

“There you are, my precious darling.” He pulls away and gets up just as you were getting to your peak, and you whine at the loss of his touch, as if he took away the very air you needed to breathe. The smile that appears on his lips as he caresses your cheek is devious, almost cruel.

“Tsk tsk, only good girls get their reward. You want to be very good for me, don't you?” You nod vigorously and he smiles, wickedly. “I thought so.”

He removes his trousers, finally freeing the raging erection he was keeping caged within, to sit just over the edge of the bed. He brings his thumb to his mouth and punctures it with his fang, before smearing his own blood all over his leaking cock.

“Time for your treat, darling.”

Your legs finally give out and you crawl your way to him, enchanted by the sight before you. You recognize the smell of his blood from earlier; that was the liquid you drank this morning. He had fed you his very own blood.

Had he made you…

A full vampire?

“Come, now. Aren't you eager to taste me?”

The sight of his cock brought water to your mouth; the way his precome mixed with his blood made it glint in the light of the fireplace, your hand barely circling around his impressive girth, and the veins adorning it made for a delicious treat. You open your mouth, with your tongue sticking out, and lick from the bottom of his shaft up to the head of it, closing your eyes as you taste the sinful mix of his fluids.

The blood from your earlier catch was good, but it was nowhere near comparable to the delectable nectar Astarion bestowed upon you. This was downright heavenly.

“Mmh, doing so well for me, pet. My sweet, sweet consort.”

You're not sure if it's because of the taste of his blood on your tongue, mixed along with his sweet praise, but you find yourself more lenient on the pet name you previously disliked. Somehow, it was growing on you, and you weren't sure how to feel about it, but in your lust-drunken state of mind, the name rolled beautifully on his tongue.

Softly, he pushes aside your hair falling over your face, holding it back as you finally take him in your mouth. When you look up to him, you find him admiring you with half-lidded eyes, and his mouth agape. The moans that leave his mouth encourages you to go further, and with each mouthful of him, you take him deeper down your throat, until your lips are flush against the base of his cock.

“Keep going,” he breathes out. “Gods, you feel, aah– amazing.” To know that you had reduced the mighty Vampire Lord to whimpers fueled a newfound confidence within you, and it pushes you to suck more fervently on his dick, “Yes, just like that, pet. Fuuuck, darling, I should've fucked your pretty little mouth earlier.”

You bring your hand to his shaft, twisting and sliding along its length with each thrust of your mouth, while your other hand cups his balls, softly squeezing them in your palm. His hips thrust upwards into your mouth, almost moving of their own accord as he was nearing his climax.

“Are you ready to taste me, love?” You look up to him, and using your bond you answer “yes, please”. The corner of his lips turn back into a smile. “That's my good little girl.”

It's not long before he groans as you feel his cock throbbing inside your mouth, releasing his hot, salty seed down your throat, and you swallow every single drop. Maybe if I'm really good, he'll let me taste his blood again, you think to yourself.

You suck on his hardness a few more times through his climax, making sure to clean it from any remaining blood or come. When he stills, taking a second only to catch his breath, you finally release his dick with a loud pop, looking up to him with pride and lust in your eyes.

He leans towards you, catching your face between his hands to crash your lips together, and you open your mouth, welcoming his tongue begging to taste himself on you. When he pulls back, a trail of your mixed saliva hangs between the two of you, and as he wipes it off from your lips with his thumb, he smears more of his blood on your face. You stick your tongue out trying to taste more, the scent alone driving you to the border of insanity.

“You've been so good to me, my sweet. Now,” he gets up, pulling you up on your feet again. “Let me show you what it means to be my consort. To be mine.”

You yelp as he takes you in his arms before throwing you on the bed, and climbs over you. Nothing could've prepared you for what came next, when he flipped you onto your belly, and pulled you back up by your throat.

“Look at yourself.”

Before you stood the large mirror you had ignored up until now, and in it, your very own reflection, along with Astarion's. You can't believe your eyes. Clearly you weren't a spawn, he told the truth all along, but then…

“What… am I?”

He leaves kisses over your shoulder, slowly making his way to your ear. “My beautiful consort. My precious little love. My greatest creation.” He leans over your shoulder, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he whispers.

“My bride.”

Come on, and feel alive, lover

Come on, and feel the love like a sinner

Shout it louder, shout it for the ones who could never say

I won't feel ashamed, mother

Can you break the chains off her?

Shout it louder, not a sinner, she's a lover

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

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