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moonchild9350 · 2 months ago

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Summary: In a world where vampires and humans coexist albiet not peacefully, you come to realize everything is not as it seems after meeting Hyunjin.

Pairing: Vampire Hyunjin x fab reader

Genre: thriller, fluff, smut 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: stalking, coercion (briefly), breaking and entering?, description of blood (obviously), blood tasting, nipple play, fingering, monster fucking, unprotected sex (don't), creampie, squirting.

Notes: This is my first fic for my spooktober event! Yes this is a vampire fic. I had fun with this and added my own twists to what we know as vampires hehe so don't come after me lol. I hope you like it and it gets you into the spooky mood hehe.

If you enjoyed this, likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated as they keep me motivated ♡

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

“Night is purer than day; it is better for thinking and loving and dreaming. At night everything is more intense, more true.” -Ellie Wiesel

You’ve never been afraid of the dark. You could sit in a dark space for hours, listening to the sounds around you, feeling the air move through your fingertips. No, the dark never bothered you. What you did fear was what is lurking in the shadows, creatures of your deepest nightmares watching your every move, waiting to pounce on you.

You felt like prey at night, always feeling like you were being hunted. You lived in a world that included vampires, creatures of the night mostly.

Growing up, you were told to avoid them at all costs, that they were dangerous, cunning, beings that shouldn’t walk the earth. Your mother instilled these thoughts into your head, making you promise to never associate with one of these beings.

Not wanting to upset your mother, you promised, the fear taking root deep in your core. Now as an adult, you still kept that promise. You never interacted with them, avoiding them at all costs if you could. You also made sure to be home before nightfall, afraid for what was lurking in the dark or who.

You were mindful of this fact as you prepped for the day. You needed to go to the library to work on a project for work, which would take up the majority of your day. Packing your bag, you grabbed a sweater and left, making your way to the town’s local library.

It was a cool day, autumn in full swing. The leaves were changing colors to vibrant shades of red, orange, and yellow. Some leaves already have fallen from the trees, landing on the sidewalk, the crunch echoing as you stepped on each one.

You hoped your friend had made it to the library first, making sure to get the good seats. You knew she would have a warm London fog with her, as she knew what your favorite drink was.

It didn’t take long for you to arrive, the old building looming in the center of town. You marched up the steps and opened the door, a burst of warm air enveloping you like a cozy blanket. You scanned the area, looking for your friend Aria, finding her at a desk next to one of the many windows.

She was engrossed in a book, her nose almost touching the pages. You chuckled and walked over before blowing on her face, startling her. She narrowed her eyes at you while clutching her chest, “that wasn’t very nice.”

You grinned, pulled out a chair and sat down.

“Is that for me?” You asked, hope in your eyes as you eyed the cup next to her.

“It is, although you don’t deserve it after the stunt you just pulled.”

You rolled your eyes and reached for the drink. “So dramatic. Thank you.”

Aria stuck her tongue out at you and then went back to her book, her nose once more barely touching the page.

You started to unpack and set up for the day, gazing through your list of things to do. Opening up one of the books you brought with you, you started to skim through it looking for information for your project.

You became lost in your work, the silence settling around you, the only sounds heard were the occasional rustle of paper. You were making progress, however, you needed more books as references. You signaled to Aria that you were going to go look for more books. She nodded her head and went back to reading as you got up and stretched your legs.

You walked over to the non-fiction section and started browsing the titles, looking for anything that may be useful for your project. You were so engrossed in searching that you didn’t see the man standing in the aisle, book in hand. You bumped into him causing him to drop his book, startling you.

“Oh, I’m so sor…” your words died off as you looked at the man before you.

Your breath caught as you eyed him, taking in his looks. He was tall, looming over your figure easily. His face was beautiful, reminding you of Adonis. His eyes were a dark, chocolate brown, the orbs piercing, but yet gentle. You felt lost in his gaze, as you forgot where you were, your mind going blank.

The man smiled at you, reaching out his hand to brush the hair from your face. The action made you snap out of your reverie, shaking your head to clear the fuzziness within your brain. You knew what he was, the very creature you vowed to stay away from.

“Are you ok?” The man spoke, his voice silky, smooth, and deep.

He peered down at you, holding your gaze as you tried to look anywhere but at his face. You didn’t want to engage with him and were looking for a way out. Before you could run away, the man brought his hand to your chin and had you look him in the eyes.

You tried to look away, but to no avail as he held your head steady. He looked deep into your eyes, his lips slightly parted, a grin forming on his face. You felt calm and less terrified, your body relaxing with each passing second.

“Are you ok?” The man asked again.

You shook your head as best as you could, “yes, I’m ok.”

The man smied, his dazzling teeth on display. “Good. My name is Hyunjin. What’s your name gorgeous?”

You intently listened as Hyunjin spoke to you, eager to hear more of his voice. Clearing your throat, you replied, “Y/n.”

Hyunjin hummed in acknowledgment. “Such a pretty name. Fitting for such a pretty girl.”

You leaned more into his touch, wanting to be as close as possible to this man. However, something felt off, but you couldn’t place your finger on what. With much difficulty, you searched your brain, trying to understand why the interaction felt off.

Hyunjin continued to look into your eyes, his face searching yours for any clue as to what you were thinking about. With sudden clarity, you understood why things felt off. He had you under his charm. Yes, that was it. You could vaguely sense a different scent than before, the smell of bergamot and patchouli gracing your senses.

You focused on this thought deep within, trying to break through his spell. It was difficult as he was a vampire so to say, their spells not easy to break for the average human. However, you fought hard, willing yourself to unleash yourself from his charm so you could run away.

Suddenly, you felt like yourself again and with a breath, slapped his hand away, shock gracing his beautiful features.

“Get your hands off me,” you said, your eyes laced with fear but also anger.

Hyunjin stared at you in shock and slight awe. You were actually able to break his charm. No one has ever done so, not in his hundreds of years roaming this earth. He already thought you were beautiful, your calm demeanor sparking a flame within him he hasn’t felt in centuries. But now? He was fascinated and he wasn’t going to forget you anytime soon.

He watched as you turned on your heels and quickly walked away back to your friend, your strong scent of lavender and honey lingering in your wake. He quickly said a quick spell, satisfied once he was done. Your paths would cross again, sooner rather than later if he had any say.

Adjusting the ring on his finger, he made to leave, slowly strolling out of the library into the night air.

You made it back to your table, pulling out your chair and sitting down. You tried to catch your breath as you held a hand to your chest, feeling the rapid pounding of your heart. What the hell just happened you wondered. Did you really just cross paths and actually interact with a vampire?

You were terrified. You hoped to never see him again. Surely you won’t right? You were lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear Aria call your name. Snapping your head up, you looked at your friend.

“Are you alright?” She asked as she looked at you anxiously. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

Close to it you thought. “I’m fine. Just…saw a rat and ran away.”

“Ewww, really?! I would have screamed.” Aria said, none the wiser to your lie.

She went back to her book, not paying you any more attention. You attempted to continue to work on your project, however, your mind was preoccupied. You couldn’t get Hyunjin out of your head.

You knew vampires were gorgeous, their beauty being one of the points that lured unsuspecting humans into their grasps, but you didn’t think they could look that beautiful. Your mind was all over the place, not able to focus on the task in front of you.

Finally givng up, you decided to pack up and go home. You explained to Aria that you were leaving. She merely waved you away.

“Text me when you get home,” she said, not looking up from her book.

Grabbing your bag, you made to leave. You cautiously walked into the night, the darkness settling in around you. You had stayed longer than you had liked. Not many people were out and about, as it was late. You listened to your surroundings, the occasional hoot from an owl reaching your ears.

The moon was bright, casting a glow to illuminate your way. You hummed a song as you continued to walk home, feeling at ease for the first time since you had that chance encounter, given the circumstances.

You were almost home when you felt odd, your senses tingling, as if someone was watching you. You looked around you, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Seeing nothing, you shrugged your shoulders and continued on your way. You did not see the figure lurking in the shadows, watching as you made your way home.

It didn’t take much longer to get home, your apartment being a short distance from the library. You walked up the steps to your door and stopped in your tracks. Lying delicately on your doormat was a kadupul flower, in full bloom.

You quickly looked around, looking to see who could have left such a flower at your door. You felt uneasy. Picking up the flower, you unlocked your door and quickly slipped inside, latching the deadbolt in place. You looked at the flower in your hand, the rich, white petals in full bloom.

You walked over to your sink, and found a vase, filling it with water and setting the flower inside. You made your way to your bathroom to shower, trying not to think about the odd events of the day. You walked through your night routine and once finished, slid into bed.

Turning off the lights, you laid underneath the covers, staring at the wall. You tried not to think of Hyunjin, as you willed sleep to come. It must have worked, because before you knew it, you dozed off, succumbing to sleep.

As you slumbered, a figure loomed over you, watching as you slept peacefully. Hyunjin was happy you accepted his flower, bidding him to come inside your house. After all, it was one of the ways vampires were granted entrance into someone’s home.

Now that he is able to come inside, he can watch over you more closely, get to know you, your routine, and if he plays his cards right, you’ll be his before the end of the fortnight. For now, however, he’ll watch over you tonight, and make sure you have sweet dreams.

The next morning, you awoke feeling oddly refreshed. The sun was shining, you could tell as the rays threatened to break through your curtains that you had closed. You stretched and got up to begin your morning routine. Your day wasn’t terribly busy, only having to go into the office briefly to meet with one of your colleagues regarding the project.

You happily sipped at your coffee as you read your book, the events of last night forgotten. Now that you think about it, you had pleasant dreams too, which was a nice change from the typical nightmares you usually get. You didn’t dwell on the thought too long however. You were just happy to finally get some sleep.

The time came when it was time for you to meet your colleague, so you fixed your hair and grabbed your bag, before making your way outdoors. The walk was pleasant, the warm sun gently warming your skin. You smiled, feeling truly happy.

Now that made you think, as you haven’t felt true happiness in a while. It was sad to even have to consider why you felt happy. Maybe you shared a funny joke with Aria or had a great conversation with your family on the phone that you can’t remember. Neither option seemed right however.

You felt confused, a frown slowly gracing your features. You felt like a part of your memory was gone and you weren’t sure why.

Hyunjin watched you from afar, the spell he placed on you yesterday at the library alerting him whenever you left the house. He followed you as you walked to your destination. You seemed happy enough. It didn’t seem like you remembered him or your encounter yesterday.

However, your demeanor changed, your stride slowing, a frown appearing on your beautiful face. You seemed lost in thought. He didn’t approve of your anxiety and confusion. He wanted you to be happy. The other spell he casted over you last night must already be wearing off sooner than usual.

Maybe he needs to back off a little, let you get back into your daily routine. Hyunjin did not want to mess this opportunity up. He’s already told the others about you. They are very eager to meet the mysterious human that has preoccupied their friend.

Yes, he will back off. He will let you go about your life and then when you least expect it, re-approach you. He is certain he will succeed at his next attempt to make you his.

Your days passed quietly, nothing out of the ordinary occurring. You filled your days by going to work and back home and occasionally going to the library to continue working on your project. You met with Aria a few more times, grabbing coffee or food depending on how much time you both had.

You had just arrived home after a long day at the office. You were more than ready to relax, ready to binge watch your favorite show while stuffing your face with pizza. Once you placed your order and changed into more comfortable clothes, you made up your home on the couch for the next few hours.

However, you happened to look over and notice the flower, still in its vase from a week ago. Who gave that to you again? You couldn’t remember. Shrugging, you decided to toss it, as the flower was shriveled up and appeared to be dead. Once you were done, you sat down and flipped the tv on, pulling up your show.

You were already an episode in when you heard a knock on the door. Thinking it was your pizza, you skipped happily to the door and swung it open, ready to greet the pizza delivery person.

Instead of pizza however, there was a dozen of the same flower that you just threw away. Startled, you looked up, looking this way and that to see if whoever left them were still around. Nightfall had fallen, quiet had descended upon your town.

A shiver went down your spine, unease settling in within you. You noticed a note on top of the flowers. Picking up the square piece of paper, you unfolded it and read what was written inside:

Time may pass but you become ever more beautiful. Await me my love for we shall be reunited soon.

Now you were scared. There was no signature indicating who left the note. It was handwritten in beautiful script, the words written carefully upon the piece of paper. You needed to get back into the comfort of your home and it needed to happen now.

Against better judgment, you picked up the flowers and brought them inside. You filled the vase with fresh water once more and set them inside. You stared at the flowers, not yet in bloom. You placed the note next to the vase.

You could feel your senses go into overdrive as your body went into fight or flight mode. You became aware of every sound around you, listening for a potential intruder after this strange event. You jumped when you heard another knock on your door, hearing the person on the other side say ‘delivery.’

Taking a few deep breaths, you made your way back to your door, unlocking it to take the pizza. You thanked the man and closed the door, once more in the safety of your home. You made sure the door was bolted before sitting down on your couch.

You weren’t really hungry anymore, too on edge after finding the bouquet of flowers. You turned to look at them, letting out a gasp as the flowers had since bloomed. They sat within the vase, an ethereal look to them as the petals lay spread out. You sat in shock, just staring at the flowers, not noticing there was another presence in the room.

Far too late, you turned your head to notice a man sitting next to you. You let out a scream, the color draining from your face. You cowered in the corner of the couch, your muscles tense and ready to run at moments notice. When did he get in here? Something about him seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place where you had first seen him.

“Hi angel,” the man said as he looked you in the eyes.

You let out the breath you were holding, your body relaxing little by little as you stared at the man in front of you, a feeling of calm spreading throughout your body.

“Do you remember me?”

You started at the man, your mind a jumbled mess as you tried to make out the situation. A strange man somehow broke into your house and is now sitting in front of you asking if you remember him. You felt strange on top of that, oddly calm given the situation.

“I see you got my flowers. They look beautiful just like you love.”

You struggled with your conscience, trying to overcome this fog that was placed over you. You looked in horror as the man scooted closer to you and gently grabbed your face. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your vision blurring as you felt tears prickle the corners of your eyes.

You fought internally with yourself, trying to break through the fog. As you struggled, the man was leaning closer and closer to you as though he was going to kiss you. You closed your eyes at the last second, squeezing them shut. You felt his soft and pillowy lips brush yours.

You needed to wake up now, or who knows what will happen. At this, you felt the fog lift, your mind clear once more. You screamed and scrambled back as far as you could go away from the man.

He stared back at you, his hand in midair as if he was still holding your face.

“Angel, don’t be afraid.” He said.

“Who are you? How’d you get in here? I didn’t give you permission to come in!” You all but screamed.

The man in front of you sighed. “Perhaps I left you alone for too long. My name is Hyunjin. We’ve met before.”

He stared at you long and hard as his words sank in. You looked terrified, your body shaking in fear. He didn’t want you to be afraid. He wanted you to feel at ease around him, he wanted you to want him, to be his.

“You brought the flowers inside your house. They have a spell on them, one that grants me entrance to wherever the flowers reside.”

You listened to every word he said, fear still coursing through your body.

“Why? Why me?” You said, your voice shaking with each word.

You tried to take deep breaths, as you felt dizzy, feeling like you were going to pass out.

“Please, angel. Don’t be afraid. We are meant to be. Let me show you. Please.”

Hyunjin had a pleading look on his face. He made no further move to get closer to you, respecting the distance placed between you two.

“You’re a vampire. How are we meant to be? I’m a human.” You said, rolling your eyes.

Hyunjin looked sad, his eyes falling at your denial of his advances.

“If I can show you how we were meant to be, will you accept me? One night, that’s all I ask angel.”

You looked at Hyunjin, really looked at him, searching his face for any deceit. He was a vampire after all. You thought long and hard, as the shock of a strange man in your home wore off. He’s a vampire, he can’t be trusted. He just wants to use you and once he’s done, he’ll kill you.

Why trust him? Yes he was staring at you with his beautiful eyes, but you didn’t want that to distract you from the fact that he just cannot be trusted.

“Please angel,” he pleaded once more.

You considered his plea once more. You were about to make a dumb mistake, but before you could change your mind, your mouth opened forming the words ‘yes.’

Hyunjin smiled at you, his brilliant teeth glowing in the low lighting. “Excellent! I will pick you up tomorrow night.”

He quickly got up and walked over to you. You tried to scoot back but found you had nowhere to go. You froze in place as Hyunjin approached you and grabbed your face once more. He slowly leaned down before pressing his lips to yours in a brief kiss. Before letting you go, he nipped at your lip, pulling at the flesh before standing up.

“Get some rest angel, you will need it.”

With that Hyunjin was gone, disappearing in thin air. You were shocked, your eyes never leaving the place where he was standing just moments before. You reached up and touched your lips. Did that really happen? Are you really going to give a vampire a chance?

You knew your mother would be disappointed if she were she alive. Oh well however, the deeds been done. Tomorrow your fate would be sealed.

The next day, you were anxious, your hands slightly trembling, your mind unfocused. You didn’t know what to expect tonight and that was driving you insane. You paced the floors, unable to sit still for too long.

What were you expected to wear? You didn’t think to ask that last night. On top of the anxiety, you were scared. What if he killed you once he was done showing you whatever he wanted to show you? Your mind was riddled with thoughts, none of them the typical thoughts you’d have before a date.

As dusk approached, the orange and pink sky showing through your windows, you decided to get ready. Somehow you knew exactly which outfit you wanted to wear. You chose a white dress with cross ties in the front. The hem of the dress had asymmetrical ruffles. You thought it would be a perfect contrast to going out with a creature of the night.

You did your makeup and lightly curled your hair. Spritzing some of your favorite perfume, you were ready for whatever the night brings.

You heard a soft ruffle behind you and you turned around in shock. Standing before you was Hyunjin. He was dressed nicely, making him look even more handsome. He eyed your outfit, a smile slowing forming on his face.

“You look gorgeous angel,” he purred reaching a hand out towards you.

You took his hand and watched as he placed a soft kiss on your hand, his lips lingering for a few moments. You felt yourself blush, the heat rising to your face.

“Ready?” He asked as he straightened up.

You shook your head yes, ready for whatever he had in store. Hyunjin smiled at you and took your hand, his fingers gently lacing with yours. He led the way, out the door, down the steps, and onto the sidewalk. The night air felt nice on your skin, feeling warm enough to where you didn’t need a sweater.

The moon was bright and hanging perfectly in the sky, no clouds around to dampen its light. Hyunjin led you along the streets, walking in stride with you. You were lost in thought, lost in the man next to you when you felt a squeeze of your hand.

You looked at Hyunjin before looking to where he was pointing to.

“Here we are,” he said as he stopped in front of a building.

It seemed old, the style outdated. There was a soft glow from within, seeming inviting. You swallowed nervously. This is it, you thought, this is where I die. You followed Hyunjin as he led you to the door. Grasping the handle, he twisted the knob before the door swung open.

He stepped inside, pulling you along. The interior of the building was breath taking. The architecture was old but warm, definitely from another time period. The furniture reminded you of the 1800s, screaming old money.

Hyunjin could see the curiosity and awe on your face. He smiled to himself, happy that you didn’t seem taken aback. This was to be your home shortly after all.

“This was my parents house,” he said, as he guided you through the house.

You were looking this way and that, taking in the various rooms that you passed by. His parent’s house? Where were they now you wondered. You knew vampires lived for a very long time. Would you get to meet them tonight?

Sensing your unease, Hyunjin squeezed your hand as he stopped before a door. “They died long ago, murdered by humans.”

You gasped, not knowing what to say. After a while you opened your mouth to speak, “I’m sorry.”

Hyunjin merely shook his head. “It was centuries ago.”

You nodded and held your breath as he opened the door. Inside the room was a dining table, set up for two. Candles lit the room, the shadows from the flames dancing along the walls.

Hyunjin walked you to a chair and pulled it out, gesturing for you to sit. You did as you were told, tucking your dress underneath you as you sat. He effortlessly tucked your chair in before rounding the corner and sitting down next to you.

He clapped his hands and food appeared, your plate piled high with delicate foods. You were shocked, your mouth hanging open. You looked up as you heard Hyunjin chuckle.

“Easy to do angel, with a spell.”

You simply nodded your head. Of course, he could do anything.

“Dig in angel. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

Hyunjin watched you as you cautiously took your fork and grabbed a piece of food. He watched as you brought the food to your succulent lips, the flesh wrapping around the utensil.

He smiled as you groaned, savoring the food on your tongue. You ate in fervor, not realizing how hungry you were. You looked up at Hyunjin and noticed he wasn’t eating.

“Are you not eating?” You asked, setting down your fork in embarrassment.

Hyunjin waved your concern away. “I cannot eat human food.”

As he said this, he looked at you, a smirk forming on his face.

You gulped. Of course vampires couldn’t eat human food. You didn’t want to think what this meant for you.

“Eat, it’s ok you eat,” Hyunjin said with a smile.

You nodded your head and picked up your fork once more. You finished off the rest of the food, your belly full and happy. Hyunjin nodded in satisfaction once you finished, snapping his fingers, the dishes clearing away immediately.

He got up and reached out to you, grasping your hand in his. You followed him as he led you out of the dining room and up the stairs. You held your breath as you ascended the beautiful staircase, unsure of what was to come. Where was Hyunjin leading you now?

“Here we are,” Hyunjin said as he led you to a room just off the stairs. He opened the door and allowed you to walk in first.

The room was beautiful, filled with ornate furniture. There was a little sitting area near the window, the night air filtering through the open window. In the center of the room there was a canopy bed that looked warm and inviting. You turned to Hyunjin, a questioning look in your eye.

He grinned and took your hand once more, guiding you to the sitting area. You sat on the couch, unsure of where to look, what to say. Hyunjin sat next to you and brushed the back of his hand across your cheek.

You blushed and shivered at his touch. You felt something stir within you. Yes, you knew Hyunjin was no good for you, a vampire, a creature you cannot trust, but your mind and body had other plans.

You looked into Hyunjin’s eyes, your heart rapidly beating within your chest. Hyunjin smiled at you before leaning forward, causing you to lay back on the couch. He brushed your hair to the side before placing his lips on yours.

You couldn’t help but sigh at the kiss, your hands reaching up hesitantly to wrap around his neck. Hyunjin continued to gently kiss you, his lips molding with yours with ease. His lips felt like heaven, nice and soft against yours.

You felt Hyunjin’s lips tip up in a smile. “Finally, you are mine angel,” he purred before kissing your jaw, the underside of your neck before he latched onto your sweet spot below your ear.

You let out a low moan as he nipped and sucked the area, his tongue lashing out to soothe the skin every now and then. You felt like you were floating, becoming lost in Hyunjin’s kisses. You closed your eyes and relaxed further into the couch, your fingers playing with the hair on the back of his neck.

Without warning, you felt a sharp prick, a yelp leaving your mouth as your eyes flew open. Hyunjin bit you, his teeth still lodged within your neck. He was going to feed from you, the shock from the realization causing your to panic. You tried to move away, but found you could not, your body paralyzed beneath the man above you.

However, before you could further protest, you felt a warm sensation travel throughout your body, down your arms, settling in your fingertips, down your legs settling in your toes, down your belly before settling in your core, arousal flooding your panties and soaking the material through.

You arched into Hyunjin, clinging onto him even tighter as he fed from you, the feeling of ecstasy becoming stronger with each passing moment. Hyunjin let out a growl before sitting up, blood smeared over his lips, his fangs still bared and bloody.

“You taste amazing angel, just like I thought. You felt good too? I know you did.” He cooed.

You did feel good, the feeling still lingering even after he detached himself from you. Your body felt like it was on autopilot, needing more from Hyunjin. You opened your legs more, allowing Hyunjin to slot himself more comfortably between your legs.

He grinned at your eagerness before he slid the straps of your dress down, your breasts on display. His fingers brushed lightly over your nipples, the buds instantly peaking between the cold air coming through the window and his touch. You mewled out as he leaned down to suckle your nipple, his tongue flicking against the nub.

Hyunjin loved your body, your beautiful breasts fitting perfectly in his mouth. He suckled your nipple, his hand massaging your other breast. He let out a groan at the sound of your voice, whimpering his name, telling him not to stop. He was ready to make you his.

With a pop, he let go of your nipple and sat up. With a snap of his fingers, his clothes disappeared, a chuckle leaving his lips at your shock.

Hyunjin’s body was beautiful. He was toned, his muscles flexing with every movement he made. Your eyes traveled down, down until they landed on the hard appendage between his thighs. His cock was pretty, the prettiest you’ve ever seen, the perfect length and girth, his tip leaking with precum.

You watched as he pushed up your dress, bunching the material at your waist, his eyes snapping to your dripping core. You heard him mutter something under his breath in a language you didn’t know, watching as he slid his finger between your folds. You moaned as he circled your clit, applying pressure to the bud occasionally.

“You’re soaking angel. All for me hmm? You’re mine right?” Hyunjin asked, his eyes searching yours for the answer.

“I’m yours Hyunjin,” you whimpered, finally succumbing to the man.

Hyunjin smiled, letting out a breath at the words he’s been waiting to hear since he met you. Grabbing his cock, he brought it to your folds, pressing the tip within your tiny hole. He watched your face, pleasure taking over as he pushed inch by inch in.

With one final push, he bottomed out, the stretch causing you to yelp from the pain. You reached out to push against him, silently begging him to stop. Hyunjin just grinned and took your hands in his, bringing them up and above your head. With a chaste kiss to your lips he thrusted his hips against yours, dragging his cock through your warm walls.

The pleasure was overwhelming, his cock hitting your spot just right. You loved his weight on top of you, cradling you beneath him as he rhythmically slid his cock in and out, in and out. You felt Hyunjin drop his head into the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin as he breathed.

You squeezed his hands and wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him ever closer to you. The new position allowed his cock to reach deeper within your walls, his tip kissing your cervix. You mewled out as you felt your high approaching.

Hyunjin groaned as he felt your pussy clench around him, keeping him within your walls. He fit perfectly within you, just as he thought. You were made for him. He felt the sweat off his forehead and land on you, his pleasure building with each stroke.

He needed you to cum with him, like he needed air to breathe. As he continued to thrust into you, he bared his fangs once more before sinking his teeth once more within your neck. You howled at the pain before succumbing to the pleasure as he fed from you.

He couldn’t get enough of you, as you were perfect. He felt you stiffen beneath him and with a cry, you squirted around his cock, your arousal coating his pelvis and dripping onto the couch below. The feeling of your pussy fluttering around him caused tip over the edge, spurt after spurt of his warm cum filling up walls.

You felt full and satisfied, as you came down from your high. You winced as you felt Hyunjin withdraw his teeth, before he pressed his lips against yours. You could taste the metallic taste of your blood, causing you to groan as you tightened your hold around him.

You felt like you could lay here and kiss him forever, your worries forgotten, the world forgotten as you laid in the little cocoon that was Hyunjin. Hyunjin gave you one more kiss before sitting up and slowly withdrawing his softening cock. He couldn’t help but watch his cum spill from your pussy, the sight beautiful to his eyes. It meant that you were his, finally his.

“Let me run a bath,” Hyunjin said, getting up from the couch.

You laid there beneath the windows, the moonlight shining through, awaiting Hyunjin to come back for you. It didn’t take him long as he was back within a few minutes. He carefully picked you up and carried you to the large in suite bathroom.

You felt sleepy as Hyunjin carefully washed your body, the scent of cherry blossoms filing in the air. You could hear him hum a song, the melody soft and sweet, almost like a lullaby. Once he was done washing you, he carefully brought you back to the bedroom, setting you down on the bed. He quickly dried you off and slipped a shirt over your head before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You grinned at the small sign of affection, reaching out to him with your arms, wanting to feel close. Hyunjin chuckled before picking you up once more. He placed you beneath the warm covers before sliding in next to you.

You snuggled up next to him, resting your head on his chest. There was no heartbeat, nothing present to let you know he was a human. You couldn’t help but feel attached, needing to be close to Hyunjin at all times. If this is what it felt like being with a vampire, then you didn’t mind, you actually wanted it, craved it.

He was yours, just as you were his. You snuggled closer as he whispered sweet nothings, his hands smoothing down your hair, his fingertips lightly brushing against your back.

“I love you angel.” Hyunjin whispered, kissing your hair as you drifted off to sleep.

You mumbled incoherent words, hoping the three little words were audible to Hyunjin.

You never were afraid of the dark, never fearing the darkness that covered the land each day. Maybe what lurked in the dark wasn’t so bad either. Maybe what lurked in the dark was what you were looking for all along.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @seungfl0wer

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saeyoungchoismaid · 7 months ago

Note

hi it's not seb Saturday yet but I just wanted to throw this idea down. Sebastian chilling outside in the rain in his usual spot before seeing the farmer trudge out from the mines all bloodied and bruised ("I'm alright, really—") and it's like an immediate panic switch is flipped for sebastian because yoba above they look like a vampire's wet dream out here. They either patch farmer up at their house or at Sebastian's room lol (could be funny if the farmer ends up crashing on his bed/couch for the night, then leaves quite early but not without leaving seb a gift they got from the mines.... : ,) anyway that's it)

Awe my first Sebastian Saturday ask yay! Bro this request is so juicy HEHE. (Side note: sorry if this isn't that good or feels rushed. I haven't wrote anything in months but I'm honestly proud of myself for cranking 2k words out)

gif originally uploaded by @starwberrymark

Sebastian listens to the rock music that’s softly coming from the garage as he works. He lets out another low curse when more oil leaks out of his motorcycle and gets on him. He should be used to it. His clothes are covered in it anyway. He sighs and sets down his wrench, taking a seat on the ground by the front tire as he snatches up his rag and wipes his hands clean. Well, as best as he could. He then takes a swig from his water bottle, eyeing the clouds forming above him. Looks like a storm is blowing in.

He keeps working for maybe another thirty minutes or so before he starts to feel the skies open up. The rain starts gentle, a few droplets starting to fall around him and onto his bike. “Welp…” he grumbles, grabbing his bike and starting to roll it back into the garage. Once secured, he shuts the radio off and closes the garage.

He places his hands onto his hips, surveying the rain. A ghost of a smile starts to appear on his face as the rain starts to fall harder. He steps back out into it and begins to head towards the lake. He takes his pack of cigs out and smacks them against his hand, inhaling deeply. He’s always loved the smell of rain.

Once at his usual spot, he takes a cigarette out and holds it up to his lips. He then slips his lighter out of his pocket and protects the end from the wind and rain to light it. Once the flame has caught the end of his cig, he inhales deeply, causing an orange hue to glow from the stick.

He stands there for a while, just admiring how the water falls onto the lake or how the forest begins to smell when it’s wet. His eyes move towards the entrance of the mines when he thinks he sees movement. Through the rain, that’s starting to come down harder, he can’t really see much. He squints his eyes and moves his head around, trying to get a better look at what was going on.

His eyes go wide when he sees you hobbling down the path. “(Y/n)!” he shouts in surprise, dropping his cig into a puddle and dashing over to you. Upon getting closer to you, he sees the bruises blooming on your skin and the cuts oozing blood. “Oh my god…” he mumbles, his heart breaking the longer he looks at you.

“Hey, Sebastian,” you greet him as cheerily as you can muster, trying to slap a smile on your face. The pain makes it a little hard to do though. “Don’t worry about all this. I’m fine, really. Just got a bit scraped up in the mines. Those monsters are-”

“You’re not fine! You’re bleeding!” he shouts, gesturing to you. Before you can respond, he’s wrapping one of your arms around his shoulders for you to lean against him. “C’mon, I’ll help you to my house.”

“Your house? But-”

“No but’s! You’re seriously hurt and Harvey’s clinic is already closed. You don’t seem too badly injured where we need to bother him, but I’m definitely not letting you go home without patching you up first,” Sebastian argues. You let out a sigh, realizing how serious he is about all of this.

“Okay…fine…” you grunt out, not having the energy to fight him on it anymore.

When you get to his place, no one seems to be home. At least, no one is in the front of the house. Sebastian leads you down the stairs and opens the door to his room. You’ve only been in his room a few times and never for long. Normally just when you have stuff for his commissions that he posts outside of Pierre’s store. He’s always very grateful, but he’s not much of a talker, so you just never end up staying around for too long. Besides, you have way too much shit going on in your day anyway.

He sets you down onto the black couch that’s right by his door and you’re happy to be off of your feet. “I’ll go grab the first aid kit,” he says right before dashing up the stairs to go do that. You grunt and lean back against the couch, the cool air of the house making you shiver in your wet clothes.

When he returns, he sees you shivering and bites his lip. “Here,” he says, setting down the first aid kit and going over to his dresser at the far end of the room. “Change into these,” he says, offering you a pair of pajamas. You shakily reach your hands out and take them, nodding your head as you stand up.

You two stare at each other for a moment, unmoving. Sebastian’s eyes go wide as he realizes what you’re waiting for. “Oh! Sorry! Um, I’ll just, uh-” he stutters out as he turns around, completely red in the face. With his back to you, you slowly start stripping out of your clothes, a shy smile on your face. You do your best to avoid getting any blood or dirt on his clothes. Thankfully, the shirt and pants he gave you are both black. Maybe that’s why he gave you that specific pair.

“Done,” you mumble before crashing back onto the dark cushions. He hesitates for a second before slowly turning around.

He’s then back in front of you in a second, kneeling on the floor and moving your limbs around to survey your wounds. Once getting an eyeful of them all, he grabs the first aid kit and starts patching you up. You remain silent as he works, even when it hurts, you keep your lips sealed.

After a while, a thought comes to you. “How are you so good at this?” you ask curiously. His eyes flicker up to yours before going back to your arm where he is currently rubbing in a cream on one of your darker bruises.

“Let’s just say I…wasn’t exactly always the best-behaving kid,” he replies with a shrug, a smirk starting to form on his lips.

“Oh?” you ask, looking down at him with your own smirk. Seeing your smirk, he huffs a laugh through his nose.

“Nothing interesting, I assure you. I just…I’m not the biggest people person…” he says softly, moving onto a cut that he’s cleaned up to bandage it.

“That’s okay,” you reassure, unsure of what else you could say in this moment.

“Yeah, I guess. I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, but I had Sammy, and later on Abigail. They introduced me to some more people, so I have more than enough friends to last me a lifetime now,” he replies with a light chuckle. You can’t help but smile at that. You’re happy to see that he’s, well, happy.

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” you ask after a few moments of silence, hesitating in asking. After doing a few commissions for him and hanging out with him and the others at festivals, you two slowly started getting closer. You typically end up hanging out after a long day at work and you head over to Gus’ only to find that Sebastian and the others are playing pool. At first, you’d only watch, but after warming up to them, you started playing.

The last time you played together, you two ended up staying until Gus closed the place down. You two were one of the few people left there, Sam and Abigail being long gone. Y’all ended up walking to the beach and sitting on the pier, sharing jokes and swapping stories. It was one of the best nights of your life. It’s definitely your favorite memory you’ve made since moving to Pelican Town.

“Yeah…of course we are…” he replies softly, almost sounding hesitant and not looking into your eyes.

“Good. I’m glad,” you say softly, giving him a sweet smile. He finally looks up at you and gives you a small smile in return.

He’s then clearing his throat and standing up. “Well, I’m all done,” he says, wiping his hands onto his damp jeans. He glances at his clock and grunts. “It’s pretty late and sounds like it’s still raining. So, if you want to stay…you can…” He starts off confidently but ends on a quiet, unsure note.

Heat rises to your face at that. “Oh, um, sure. Thank you…” you whisper, looking down at your hands.

“Don’t mention it. You can, uh, take the bed, if you want. I’ll take the couch,” he offers. He then walks over to his closet and opens it up, revealing extra pillows and blankets at the top of the closet.

“What? No, no! That’s okay! I’ll take the couch. I don’t want to inco-”

“I won’t take no for an answer,” he interrupts, pulling some blankets free from their tangled mess in his closet. You sigh and nod your head even though he’s not looking at you.

“Alright, fine,” you say as you stand up, limping over to the bed. You sit there and watch him make the couch comfy for himself.

As he moves around his room and goes to the bathroom to get ready for bed, you end up lying down at some point. You don’t remember falling asleep, but you do vaguely remember feeling something brush against your forehead and what sounded like someone wishing you a good night.

When you wake up, you feel well-rested and ready to take on the day. You sit up and rub the leftover sleep from your eyes and then stretch. You wince when the bruises on your ribs ache, reminding you of what happened yesterday. You turn towards the time and find it’s six in the morning. Ah, guess old habits die hard.

Hearing rustling and a deep sigh, you turn your attention now to the couch. Sebastian is still out cold, and probably will be for another four hours, at least. You smile and slip out of the bed, walking over to him. You smile at how peaceful he looks, his usual RBF nowhere to be seen.

Not wanting to disturb him, you leave him be as you gather up your still-wet clothes. You’ll return his pjs to him later, after you’ve cleaned them and made sure they’re free of blood. Feeling something hard in your pocket, you slip your hand inside and remember what you found yesterday. Glancing at Sebastian, you gently set it down onto the table beside his couch that’s missing his radio. You then hobble over to his desk and search for paper and something to write with. Upon finding what you’re looking for, you scribble down a little note and leave it there next to your gift. You give him one last look before starting to limp up the stairs. Because it’s so early, no one else is up yet, so you slip out unnoticed thankfully. You’re not sure how you’d explain yourself to Robin.

When Sebastian wakes up, the first thing he does is look over at his bed. He frowns when he finds you not there and he feels his heart sink a little. He sits up and runs his hands through his hair before scrubbing at his face. Upon dropping his hands, he notices two items resting before him. He practically has stars in his eyes as he picks the Obsidian up. He can’t believe what he’s seeing.

Noticing the paper next to it, he picks that up next. As he reads your note, he starts to smile harder and harder.

Dear Sebastian,

Thank you for patching me up. Don’t think I ever actually properly thanked you last night. It means a lot to me that you’d go through all the trouble. I want you to have this. A little birdy once told me that you’ve always wanted to see Obsidian. I hope you can mark this off your bucket list now. If there’s anything else you want to see, I’m sure I can make it happen ;) Text me :) xxx-xxx-xxxx

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

MASTERLISTS

More with Sebastian

Join my discord server: https://discord.gg/qnDxJ6rr67

Tag List: @katelynwithpaint, @babykirbysstuff ✦ if you would like to be added or removed, comment or send an ask. Also, remember to tell me if you ever change your username so I can continue to tag you :)

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

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danieyells · 5 months ago

Text

@2flowerz NOW I CAN POST THEM LOL HERE'S ED TO START WITH

PERVY OLD VAMPIRE IS AN ABSOLUTE GOOBER. . .he's also very very tired. But he has a very nice reaper taking care of him and a friendly dog that wants him to go outside more, so he has people who love and care for him even though he's. . .a little troublesome haha.

also I changed the format from previous posts and added the specific times and seasons and such for each dialogue! this should help lessen some confusion about how to get them.

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Ah, there you are. I've a favor to ask of you— come to my room and I'll explain."

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"Oh? It appears we have some letters. Alas, my eyesight is not what it used to be. Read them out to me, would you?"

well maybe if you didn't stare at your tablet all day. . . .

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"I have much to learn about the human world... Rui is teaching me a lot, but I cannot seem to divorce myself of careless blunders."

y'know, it's good he's trying to learn anyway. 400 years old is never too late.

"What did I do before Darkwick? I eked out a humble existence in Eastern Europe. Hm? The most powerful vampire? No, those are just rumors. "

didn't you confirm it yourself in the main story though--also if he was living in eastern europe for the past 400-ish years i wonder if he saw lyca when he was young, even if in passing? then again eastern europe isn't exactly small.

"I was taken by a sudden whim to travel abroad. I had heard good things about Japan so I came over to play, but alas, I was captured."

so he went to japan just to have a nice time for a while but the Institute decided to keep him trapped in Darkwick. . .and then they didn't listen to any warnings or concerns he had. . .no wonder he doesn't give a shit what's going on around here, why would he? They abducted him while he was on vacation--and for what?

"I have no interest in harming humans. After all, they die so quickly. They should enjoy their short lives while they can."

"(cough cough) Oh, it's you... I'm feeling worse than usual today. I don't suppose you could carry me to bed?"

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"(yawn) Good morning... What time is it? ...Still that early? Wake me up again at midday, would you?"

honestly Ed? Mood.

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"If this is about a mission, I can't help you, I'm afraid. I leave such day-to-day duties to Rui, so I suggest you ask him instead."

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm more or less confined to this house most days, for various reasons. I'm on my best behavior. But I'll do what I can to support you from the sidelines."

y'know, he's offering to help a little even at Affinity 3 and that counts for something in my book.

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"My favorite channel should be posting a new video at any moment... Sorry, but could we continue this tomorrow?"

you have not yet reached the stage of friendliness where you're more important than a youtube video lmao

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I don't suppose you know where Rui is? How troubling... My YouTube video has stopped playing..."

well at this hour i'd check either the bar or his room???

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Oh, it hurts... I cannot seem to shake this ache in the place Rui touched me earlier... I think I'll rest a while."

so it seems like either his limbs pop off/part of him breaks open when Rui touches him, or he suffers a great deal of pain for an extended period of time, maybe his body actively fighting extremely rapid necrosis? Rui did say that he basically insta-kills anyone who isn't super strong, so Ed being in excruciating pain instead of dying or losing a limb now and then makes sense.

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I can't survive much sunlight. Without my parasol, I can barely go outside... (sigh) It really is quite punishing..."

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Sounds like Lyca's having fun, from all that yapping. I think it's good for him to develop some temporary bonds with humans at this time in his life."

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I felt the urge to go stargazing, so I went to a hill nearby, but Towa was there already and he chased me away."

TOWA STOP BEING MEAN HE actually he probably would have bothered you and if he smells like a corpse to you that would have been annoying even if he didn't talk to you BUT STILL DON'T BE MEAN.

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"You ought to be getting ready for bed. Me? Oh, I'll turn in soon... Just one more YouTube video."

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"Are you going for a walk? Take care not to spend too long in the garden. Humans are rather susceptible to the miasma there."

WE NEVER DID LEARN ABOUT THE MIASMA. WHAT'S UP WITH THE MIASMA WHY'S THE AIR IN OBSCUARY FUNKY.

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Do you realize that human society is controlled by a shady cabal of elites? There are many videos about it on YouTube."

I AM ONCE AGAIN ASKING FOR HIS LAPTOP TO BE TAKEN AWAY OR TIME ON IT RESTRICTED. . .HE'S INTO CONSPIRACY THEORY YOUTUBERS HE'S GONE TOO FAR DOWN THE RABBITHOLE

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"The ghouls are rioting again? Ah ha ha ha, they certainly are full of energy. If you'll excuse me, I was in the middle of a YouTube video."

he simply does NOT GIVE A FUCK lmao the ghouls could be dying out there and he'd probably shrug it off. Maybe keep an eye on things with his sixth sense or have some bats watch. Maybe that's part of why so many ghouls dislike him? he doesn't have any concerns for their plights and problems?

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"How strange... I can't find my other sock. I could have sworn I put it here... Have you seen it?"

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"Lyca made a mess again? Ah ha ha ha. Try not to judge him too harshly—he's not human, after all."

i think even for non-humans there's some cleanliness to be strived for. . .even pigs are pretty clean animals from what I hear. . . .

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Rui? Is my lunch ready yet? ...Oh, it's you. You wouldn't happen to be feeling heartsore, would you?"

he's asking if you're sad because he feeds off of tears more than blood. . . . .he wanted to see if you'd cry for him. . . . . . .wait how does Rui usually go about doing this!? Does he cry every day for him???

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Rui has his tavern work at this hour. He made sure I had everything I needed before he left, though."

ed's all cozy in bed with a nice bottle of tears and his fully charged tablet, all the dirty laundry's off his floor and everything--and now you're here! everything is perfect.

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Has night fallen already? Do keep in mind that my vitality returns at this hour. You really should be more careful."

i'm kinda getting Taiga vibes here where as his affinity goes up he kind of clearly wants to eat you more, except where Taiga kinda tried to keep away from doing it until Affinity 24 where he snaps and ties you down and starts hurting you, Ed just starts warning you 'you're in danger being around me right now' lol. When he tells you to be careful he makes the sadist face, so he is telling you to be careful around him specifically. . . .

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"You can't sleep? Come, close your eyes. I'll hold you in my arms until you surrender yourself to the land of slumber."

isn't Ed's skin cold. . .I feel like it may be hard to sleep like that for most people lol then again maybe he'd be perfect for temperature regulation?

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"Ah, thank you for coming so early. I slept even worse than usual last night... The cleaning can wait. Let me rest my head on your lap, would you?"

'the cleaning can wait' huh. . .is this another Jin situation where he's started to expect you to clean up his room all the time lmao I MEAN RUI ONLY CLEANS IT ONCE A MONTH SO A LITTLE SUPPLEMENTARY CLEANING WOULDN'T HURT. . . .

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"How are you finding Obscuary? Anomalies live quite differently to humans, so you're adapting to it remarkably well... Perhaps you're predisposed?"

'hey i know you're probably scared about becoming an anomaly that will harm your loved ones and all but you may already be showing signs so you should just stop worrying and join us!' also do they really live so differently. . .so far the main difference is cleanliness lmao

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"My, where did the time go? Talking to you is just so relaxing. Why? Perhaps it's because I know I could feast upon you at any moment."

in Japanese he says something like "The sense of security of being able to strike at any moment"--he's saying he could bite you and you're so comfortable with him you wouldn't even put up a fight before he could do it. He's making his 'sadist' face, but I think he means it in a 'you're relaxed around me, and it makes me feel comfortable to' way. . . .or not. He could just mean that he appreciates you as easy prey 8D

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Really. You became embroiled in another petty human dispute? How absurd you humans are. Come here."

he feels so bad for you and always getting involved in some shit. . .you know you wouldn't have to do any of this if you abandoned your humanity and just became an anomaly?

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"So, you've come sneaking into my room in the middle of the night? You really are a wicked girl. What were you hoping for? Go on, say it."

Do you want him to feed off of you? Or do you want him to feast upon you? Or were you just that starved for his company? I feel like he's willing to put aside his tablet for you at this point, especially if you're coming into his window late at night for a little tryst.

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"Being with you brings up old, old memories... Perhaps it's because you remind me a little of her."

well he is hundreds of years old, so of course he had lovers in the past. . .I wonder if she was also mortal, and if he refuses to see humans and anomalies as compatible because of heartbreak. Or maybe he doesn't get heartbroken like some humans do, and it's just nostalgia. But for someone who struggles to remember things sometimes to have old memories stirred up, I think that's a good thing. He must feel quite old at this point, but having someone around who reminds him of being even a little younger must be nice, even if he doesn't think it will last. . .then again maybe that's part of why he seems like he encourages you to become an anomaly in his character stories. Because he'll get to have you around for longer.

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"The plants in our garden become rather lively in the spring. See? There's a little cannibalism going on over there."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"My favorite channels have been updating more frequently than usual of late. I suppose humans really do experience spring fever."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"(yawn) I look more tired than usual? Must be the spring weather... Goodnight."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Cherry blossoms are fascinating organisms. Born carrying the stench of death and falling all too soon... Just like humans, really."

i don't think most humans smell like death(unless we're referencing the poem about sakura trees having corpses beneath them to make the petals pink again) but go off i guess--also it makes it seem like he wishes humans lived longer? funny thing for a guy who thinks humans aren't compatible to say.

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Obscuary is lovely in summer. It's so dark and cool, with a lovely miasma breeze. I've no desire to step outside its confines."

honestly living in eternal night during the summer doesn't sound bad aside from all the bugs. but the tentacle plant in the garden probably keeps most of them away, so. . .obscuary in summer sounds lovely.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"How the sun mocks me... Vampires across the nation are advised to avoid going outdoors unless absolutely necessary."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"It was so hot this morning that Rui was walking around after his shower in just a towel. A sight for sore eyes, I must say."

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH HE IS BISEXUAL. in Japanese he says that Rui was walking around soaking wet and that he's incredibly handsome but doesn't mention the towel--so Rui may have been wet and bare naked walking around Obscuary. . . .

(between 8pm and 5am)

"My air-conditioner? I believe I have it set to 64 degrees. Hm? You're cold? Humans truly are such fragile creatures."

that is almost 18 degrees celcius for the non-americans! it's not that cold imo but it's definitely a little chillier than most people like their personal space.

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"Humans take extra delight in their meals during the harvest season, do they? Interesting. Perhaps I'll follow suit."

lap up your tears nice and slow and sensual--

(between 11am and 4pm)

"The stamina and physical strength of a vampire is dozens of times that of a human. We don't need to work ou— (cough) (wheeze)"

YOU GOOD BUDDY YOU STARTED COUGHING WITHOUT EVEN MOVING i mean i get it i have asthma but still--

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Ah, the curtain of night closes. Now that the days are becoming shorter, my physical and mental health have much improved."

does that mean you don't need help getting dressed for a while--

(between 8pm and 5am)

"How beautiful the moon looks tonight. Its light is such a comfort to us non-humans. You look rather lovely bathed in it too."

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"(sigh) Even in the dead of winter, Lyca is so full of energy in the mornings... Just try to imagine waking to him barking in your ear."

that explains why you lock him out of your room lmaoooo

(between 11am and 4pm)

"What do you think of my dressing gown? Rui made it for me. It's surprisingly warm."

MOM RUI STRIKES AGAIN MAKING HIS BOY COZY CLOTHES FOR THE WINTER

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"(cough cough) I only took a few steps outside, yet I felt as though my heart froze over... It's best not to leave one's room on days like this."

(between 8pm and 5am)

"They say that on cold nights like this, humans long for the warmth of another. Well? Shall I provide it for you?"

DO YOU POSSESS THE WARMTH OF ANOTHER SIR I RECALL YOUR SKIN BEING DESCRIBED AS COLD

His birthday: (November 10th)

"Having you celebrate my birthday makes all these long years of life worth it. How old am I? A gentleman doesn't tell."

given your estimate was 'idk 400 i stopped counting around 300' i think it's less you won't tell and more you can't tell lmaoooo

Your birthday:

"It's your birthday, is it? I'll have to give you a present. What do you want? Go on, tell me."

New Years: (January 1st)

"Happy New Year. I heard it's a tradition in this country to impart small monetary gifts. Here, for you."

OTOSHIDAMA GET!!!!

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"My, is this for me? I'm touched. I don't usually partake of human food, but I suppose I'll make an exception."

it's about the symbolism! it's the principle of the thing, even if the chocolate tastes bland to your vampire taste buds!

White Day: (March 14th)

"It seems that today those who received chocolates on Valentine's Day are supposed to return the favor. What a conscientious country this is..."

yeah but what'd you get them tho--

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Oh, I'm burning up... I'm not long for this world... Won't you grant me one last request? ...No need to make that face. I'm joking, of course."

Halloween: (October 31st)

"Trick or treat. I'm a real vampire, you know. Give me your blood, or I'll play a trick on you."

probably the only time he's directly stated wanting to drink your blood lol

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Merry Christmas. Rather amusing for a vampire to celebrate a holy day, don't you think? Let's fill tonight with magic and wonder."

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"I'm going to lie down a while. If you need something, ask Rui."

(13 affinity and above)

"Hello? Oh good, there you are. It would be troublesome for me if you were to disappear. Let me know next time you decide to wander off."

WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'D BE TROUBLESOME. I guess it's because you clean up after him and help him and stuff. . .and at higher affinities maybe he feeds off of your tears and/or blood. . . .

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"Well, hello there. It's been a while. Come over here—I've been looking forward to your return."

OUR SLOPPY LIL VAMPIRE BOY. Flirts, drinks tears, minds his own business, and is on his best behavior despite that he was abducted by Darkwick. They should be thankful he's not angrier, considering he's apparently strong enough to LEVEL A BUILDING ON HIS OWN. As his affinity goes up he seems to be more comfortable around you, although that comes with the concern that he expresses less human thoughts more openly. . .which isn't a bad thing, imo. He should be allowed to be an anomaly. He's not harming or preying on you, just saying he could and that he's dangerous. But he also just seems to like physical affection and flirting and having you do chores for him so he can be lazy. . . .

I love him lol he's stinky

#edward hart #datamining cw #tokyo debunker spoilers #danie yells at tokyo debunker #now i have to update the masterlist. . . .#tokyo debunker

157 notes · View notes

lemoncrushh · 1 year ago

Text

Kiss Me Deadly

SUMMARY: The annual Halloween party at the local pub has Y/N excited when she decides to invite her boss at the University, Mr. Styles. But she soon begins to second guess her decision when Harry starts acting odd. Is Harry Styles really who she thinks he is? Will this Halloween be a fantasy come true…or the kiss of death?

WARNINGS: mentions of blood (I mean, it's a vampire fic lol), smut (oral - female receiving).

WORD COUNT: 6.4k

A/N: Happy Halloween! Sorry for the delay of this story. I had hoped to get it out last week, but I had some weird life-altering things happen that have occupied my mind. Hope you enjoy. FEEDBACK IS LOVE.

Harry removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting the large book on his desk. Rising from his chair, he called out to his assistant.

“Time to lock up, Y/N. I wanna get out of here before eight o’clock.”

“No problem, Mr. Styles,” she said, closing her own book in front of her.

Pursing his lips, Harry shook his head. Y/N knew what the look was for. For weeks now he’d been insisting she call him by his first name. But being his assistant, it felt odd to her, unnatural.

Not to mention the horrible crush she had on him. Truth be told, Y/N had a massive crush on him long before she ever took the position as his assistant. But up until then, he’d only been Mr. Styles to her, the attractive English TA with a British accent.

When Mr. Styles and Dr. Osborne had initially told Y/N about the position and that she’d be perfect for it, she’d been completely surprised. Teacher’s Assistants didn’t usually have their own assistants. But the university had a large English department, and Dr. Osborne insisted that more help was needed. Therefore, Y/N had been spending Monday, Wednesday and Friday evenings this semester assisting Mr. Styles, and in turn, assisting Dr. Osborne.

“How many times is that now?” asked Harry, sliding his glasses back onto his face.

“Times?”

“Times I’ve told you to just call me Harry,” he commented with a frown. “Mr. Styles makes me feel so old.”

Y/N chuckled, “You’re not old.”

“‘Course not. I’ve barely got a few years on you.”

Trying not to blush, Y/N took the stack of books in her arms and turned toward the shelves to put them away.

“So why are you closing up early tonight? Hot date?” she joked.

Y/N heard Harry snort before she turned around and saw the strange look on his face. Embarrassment? Had she pried where she shouldn’t have?

“Not exactly.”

“Oh.”

“I have plans…but I wouldn’t exactly call it a date,” he added.

“Ah. I see.” Although she didn’t.

Y/N didn’t know much about Harry Styles outside of his job at the university. She always wondered who or what he went home to every night. Didn’t know if he had any social life, anything about his likes or dislikes that weren’t English related. He seemed to keep to himself, and Y/N respected that. But it didn’t mean she didn’t fantasize sometimes…

“Y/N,” she heard him say, breaking her from her reverie.

“Oh, um, yes?”

Harry chuckled. “Wow, you were zoned out. I asked if you were ready to go. I’ll walk you out.”

“Oh. Yeah!” Y/N stammered. “Hang on, just have two more books to put away.”

Shelving the last book in her hands, Y/N grabbed the two on her table and quickly put them in their places. Walking past Harry to the coat rack, she grabbed her jacket, getting a whiff of his delicious cologne. Y/N wasn’t sure what it was, and was always afraid to ask him. But every single day he smelled divine. Nothing like the boys in college.

“Ready,” she announced, slipping her arms into her sleeves and grabbing her shoulder bag.

Y/N followed Harry down the steps to the entrance of the English building. Spotting her friend Lauren across the pavement coming out of the library, she waved and called her name.

“Have a good night, Mr. Styles,” Y/N paused, “I mean, Harry.”

She caught the twitch of his lips underneath the dim campus light before he said, “You too, Y/N.”

“That guy you work with is so hot,” remarked Lauren after she and Y/N had both ordered drinks at their favorite local pub.

“Who?” Y/N asked, accepting her beer from the bartender, “Harry?”

“You call him Harry?”

“He asked me to,” she said. “But I still call him Mr. Styles.”

“Jesus, that’s even hotter!”

Y/N laughed, nearly knocking over her glass. “Well, you’re not wrong. He is hot. But he’s very reserved.”

“Ooh the nerdy, quiet type! I like! Maybe you need to pull him out of his shell.”

“I dunno,” Y/N smirked with a shrug.

“C’mon. I bet you’re just the girl to do it,” Lauren insisted.

“And how do I do that, pray tell?”

“Ask him out!”

“I can’t just ask out my boss! There has to be rules against that sort of thing, right?”

“Hmmm,” Lauren nodded, taking a sip from her own beer. “Maybe casually suggest something. Like coffee, or a drink after work. In a social gathering type place, like here. Oh my God!”

“What?”

“The Halloween party! He probably knows about it - he might even already have plans on coming!” squealed Lauren.

“I doubt it,” Y/N shook her head.

“You never know. It’s mostly a school event anyway. You don’t even have to ask him out on a date, just tell him you’ll be there and he should come.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Y/N muttered, chewing her lip.

“I know! I have brilliant ideas,” Lauren declared.

Despite the unusually warm night, Harry could see his breath in front of him, instantly dissipating into the air. He pulled the collar up on his black coat as he continued down the pavement. Stopping at the corner of the pub, he could hear the music and chatter from inside. But there was only one voice he wanted to hear. Only one person whose blood he could already hear pulsing through his eardrums.

The smell was intoxicating - her smell. His mouth began to water as he peeked through the blinds of the old family pub. He found her quickly, sat at the bar with that friend of hers, the one who’d ruined his plan.

He had hoped to follow Y/N home after leaving the English building. Watch her climb the steps to her flat and let herself in. He’d done it a few times before, but he wouldn’t call it stalking. He just enjoyed her aroma, the rushing of her blood through her veins. Then when he was sure she was home safely, he’d turn around and walk home.

This particular night, however, he had thought perhaps he’d get the courage to walk up to her. Maybe act as if it was a coincidence that he was in her part of town. He’d even conjured up a lie, saying his plans for the evening had gotten canceled, if she seemed happy to see him. Then he’d ask her to join him for a drink. A glass of wine perhaps. But not at this noisy pub, no. Somewhere secluded, more…romantic.

Blasted Lauren, or whatever her name was. He reckoned he’d have to wait for another night. But…time was running out…

Lauren and Y/N called it a night after only two beers. Y/N was tired and Lauren had an early shift at the shop where she worked. After giving her friend a farewell hug, Y/N crossed the street and headed for home. She noticed a bit of a fog, thinking it suitable for this time of year. Halloween was only a few days away. She hadn’t originally planned on going to the party at the pub, seeing as Lauren had a date and she didn’t want to be the third wheel. But now the prospect of asking Harry had made her change her mind.

Making a list of possible last-minute costumes in her head, she suddenly heard something behind her. Turning her head, however, she saw nothing but empty pavement. Continuing on her way, she’d almost reached her building when she heard something again. This time, she turned swifty, seeing only a cloud of pillowy smoke. Thinking it odd for the fog to circulate in that manner, she felt a chill run down her spine. Her eyes shifted from side to side as her body stood frozen.

“Hello?” she called out meekly.

When she got no response, she slowly turned back around, only to run into a tall frame of a man. She nearly screamed when two hands grabbed her shoulders, but her words stalled when she looked up into a pair of familiar green eyes.

“Oh! Mr. Sty- Harry,” she breathed. “What…what are you doing here?”

“I’m terribly sorry, Y/N,” he said, squeezing her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Still trembling, her heart beating loudly, Y/N blinked and nodded. “It’s…it’s okay. I thought someone was following me.”

“Oh, well now I do feel terrible.”

“No,” she swallowed, placing a hand over her chest. “Don’t, really. I was probably just paranoid. What with the fog and all.”

“Ah, yes. It is quite a foggy night, isn’t it?” Harry gazed around.

That was when Y/N noticed he wasn’t wearing his glasses. She chuckled nervously as she felt Harry’s hands leave her arms.

“So what are you doing here?” she asked, bracing herself to hear Harry reveal details of his evening.

“Well, I…” he echoed the nervous chuckle, scratching his forehead. “It’s rather embarrassing actually. My plans got canceled.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that,” Y/N remarked.

“I’m not,” Harry grinned.

Y/N felt the blood rush through her veins at the way he smiled at her. She’d seen him smile many times, but this was different. It was as though a sudden spark had ignited behind his eyes.

“I know there’s a popular pub nearby,” he added. “Fancy a drink?”

Y/N’s eyes widened. Was he seriously asking her? Now?

“Well, I…” she muttered, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “I um…actually just came from there. Had some drinks with a friend.”

Harry caught himself before saying, “Oh, right.” Don’t be daft, Harry. She can’t know. Not yet. Instead, he cleared his throat. “I see.”

God, you’re a moron, Y/N scolded herself. He’s asking you out and you’re saying no?

“But you know…” Y/N quickly thought on her feet, “I may have a bottle of wine at my place. It’s just up there.”

“Really?” Harry cocked a brow as he turned his head in the direction she pointed.

“Sure. That is, if you’d like to come up.”

Would I? “Um, yeah, that sounds…great,” Harry nodded.

Y/N tried to conceal her delight, giving only a casual grin as she turned toward her building. She could feel Harry’s presence behind her, his shadow taller than hers underneath the streetlamp. It made her feel safe, but at the same time a tiny bit apprehensive. She had never invited Harry - nor anyone from the university for that matter - up to her apartment. She didn’t even think he knew where she lived. And yet…here he was. Just when she’d been thinking of him.

When she reached her front door, she scrambled for her keys, dropping them on the ground.

“Shit,” she cursed, but before she could bend down to retrieve them, another hand held them out in front of her.

“Oh. Thanks,” she whispered, her eyes meeting Harry’s who was already standing beside her, his body so close that she almost gasped.

“You’re welcome.”

Y/N didn’t miss the way his tone was so incredibly low, she felt it vibrate in her chest. She also didn’t miss the way his gaze didn’t leave her face, even when she inserted the key in the door.

“I really need to use the restroom,” she announced as soon as they were inside. “I’m so sorry. That beer I had earlier went right through me.”

“No worries,” Harry chuckled.

“Have a seat,” Y/N gestured with a smile. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as she had shut the bathroom door, Harry slipped out of his coat, placing it on the armrest of a nearby chair. He then walked casually around the room, inspecting knick knacks and books on the shelves. Spotting a photo in a frame, he picked it up, Y/N’s smile gazing back at him as he felt a sudden rush. As though he’d been shocked with electricity, he quickly set it back on the shelf.

“Sorry about that!” he heard Y/N sing behind him.

He turned with a smile. Somehow in the few seconds she was gone, she had managed to make herself look even more…inviting. She wore an oversized jumper with the University logo on it and a pair of plaid flannel pajama pants. She couldn’t have looked cuter if she had been dolled up for a night out. But as she stepped closer to him, Harry got a massive whiff of her aroma and nearly stumbled backwards.

“So…wine!” she pointed at Harry with a giggle before turning for the kitchen.

“You know,” Harry swallowed, “we could take a raincheck if you like. I know you’re probably tired and…” His words stalled when he saw the disappointed look on her face.

“I just don’t want to put you out,” he finished.

“Oh, you’re not!” Y/N insisted. Then she reached for glasses in the cupboard, softly adding, “I’m actually glad you’re here.”

“You are?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, sucking in her lips. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Really?” Harry raised a brow.

Y/N felt the color rise on her face as she poured the wine. “I assume you’ve heard of the Halloween party?”

“I have. It’s at that pub, right?”

“Right. Are you going?” Y/N hesitantly handed Harry a glass.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a sip before making eye contact. “Um, hadn’t really thought about it, honestly.”

“Oh.”

“Why? Are you going?”

Y/N sighed as she leaned against the counter. “I wasn’t planning on it, but…my friend Lauren’s going, and her boyfriend Josh. A couple other people I know said they probably will…so…”

“You don’t have a date?”

Y/N stood up straight, her eyes wide. “Oh, it wouldn’t have to be like a date or anything,” she explained hastily. “Just…you know…thought you might like to go.”

“Ah,” a smirk grew on Harry’s handsome face. Damn it.

“I mean, I’ve never really seen you outside of school other than tonight, and…you totally don’t have to-”

“I’d love to,” he interrupted.

A loud exasperated breath blew from between Y/N’s lips. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Harry continued grinning as he walked around the kitchen counter to stand next to Y/N. “I like Halloween. And I like you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened as Harry came closer, his last words hanging in the air. She was almost unsure if she’d heard him correctly. But when he lifted his wine glass to his lips, took a sip and lowered it revealing another smirk, she knew she had.

“You-you do?”

“Of course. I thought I’d made that pretty clear, no?”

“No,” Y/N shook her head, “actually.”

“Shit. I must be terrible at this then.”

Y/N giggled, covering her mouth. “No. I’m horrible at reading signals, I think.”

Harry’s smirk grew into a wide smile. “Well, I reckon that’s out there now. Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Y/N echoed, lifting her glass. When she lowered it, she looked at Harry. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you without your glasses.”

“Yeah? Well, I…” he patted his chest, “have them in my pocket. I only really need them for reading.”

“Oh.”

“Of which we do a lot,” he added, wiggling his brows.

“Yeah,” Y/N chuckled through a sigh. “Well, you look nice. But you look nice with them, too.”

“Thank you.”

Y/N gestured toward the couch, and Harry followed, taking a seat next to her. As soon as he sat down, however, he got another intoxicating whiff of her aroma. He could tell she was nervous, her heart pumping fast. Closing his eyes, Harry took a moment to get his bearings.

No, not yet, he thought to himself. It’s not time yet.

“This is pretty good wine,” he heard Y/N say. Opening his eyes, he saw her gazing into her glass. “I’m not an expert, but I saw it at the liquor store and the guy there said it was good.”

“It’s delicious,” Harry agreed. “You made a good choice.”

“I have to watch myself though,” Y/N giggled, sitting back on the sofa. “I could easily get drunk on this.”

“Yeah?” Harry smirked.

“Mmm,” Y/N nodded as she took another sip. “I can already see myself going there, and I haven’t even finished one glass.”

Harry chuckled as he took his own sip, a rather larger one than hers. Then setting his empty glass on the coffee table, he scooted closer to Y/N. He could feel the heat radiating off of her, hear her pulse beating in his ears.

He watched her face as he reached for her wine glass and set it down next to his. Her beautiful, pouty lips matched the crimson shade of the wine, and his urge to taste them amplified. Lifting his hand, he ran his thumb across her bottom lip until she delicately opened her mouth, inviting his thumb to graze her tongue.

The contact nearly had him on his knees, his desire more than he could bear. Running his tongue along his teeth, he could feel his fangs emerging. He had to taste her. Now.

Now! Or get out!

The voice inside was getting louder. So much that he almost didn’t have the nerve to stop it. So he did the only thing he could do. The only thing that could possibly be done in that moment if he didn’t want to expose the truth.

No, not yet!

Snapping his hand back, Harry quickly rose from the sofa.

“I…I should go,” he said, his throat dry and harsh.

“Oh!” Y/N gasped as she looked up at him, ashamed and bewildered. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be,” Harry shook his head and grabbed his coat. “You did nothing. You’re…you’re enchanting. I just…I have to go. We’ll do this another time, yeah?”

“Okay.”

Y/N followed Harry to the door where he paused for only a moment to look back. She noticed his eyes were glassy, almost clear, bright. She took a step back, astonished.

“I’ll um…see you Monday,” Harry said, lowering his gaze. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

Before she could reply, he was gone, like a cloud of smoke in the night. With a sigh, Y/N shut the door.

What had she done wrong?

Monday afternoon was going by slowly. Y/N looked at the clock. It was barely after five. Harry hadn’t uttered a word about what had happened Friday night. In fact, he was being his old self, very cordial and professional. It was driving Y/N crazy. She snuck a look in his direction as he concentrated on his laptop.

Fuck, Y/N sighed to herself. He’s so sexy with those glasses. And the sweater vest? Kill me now!

Harry suddenly looked up from his computer, his eyes locking with hers as if he had heard her thoughts. His lips began to do that little twitch again as Y/N dropped her pen, an obtrusive clattering sound when it hit the floor.

“What?” Harry finally asked with a smirk.

“Um, nothing,” Y/N scrambled, reaching down for her pen.

God, just ask him! Y/N screamed inwardly. What are you waiting for?

Sitting up at her desk, she noticed Harry had resumed his work, typing on his keyboard. With a sigh, Y/N clicked her pen as she tried to concentrate on something else. Something other than the taste of his stupid thumb on her bottom lip and the way his eyes had gone bright as he’d looked into her soul.

Suddenly, Harry chuckled. The sound was low at first, and Y/N wondered if he was reading something humorous on his laptop. But then the sound grew, and he turned his head to look at her.

“What is it, Y/N?” he asked again.

“What do you mean?” she stared, startled.

“You’re clicking that pen like a mad woman. Something’s up.”

Sitting up straight, Y/N slapped the pen down on the desk. “Sorry. I was just…wondering if you’re okay.”

“Me? I’m not the one acting crazy,” Harry joked.

“I mean…after Friday…”

“Oh…” Harry sighed, sitting back in his chair. Then removing his glasses, he rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, about that, I-”

“It’s okay,” Y/N interrupted, clearing her throat. Though she’d asked the question, she wasn’t sure if she was prepared for an answer. At least not the answer she figured she was about to get. “That was probably a mistake. Mr. Styles.”

“Y/N, no,” he shook his head. Then rising from his chair, he walked toward her, stopping at her desk. “Don’t think that. I just…”

His words trailed off as he surprised Y/N by perching himself on the corner of her desk.

“I like you, Y/N,” he confirmed. “I wasn’t lying about that, and it wasn’t the wine. I just feel the need to…take things slow with you.”

Y/N smiled softly. “I understand.”

“I shouldn’t have run off like that though; that was unfair to you. And I apologize.”

“Apology accepted.”

“Good,” Harry beamed. “So we’re still on for tomorrow?”

“Mhm,” Y/N nodded, biting her lip. “I hope so.”

“Brilliant. I’ll meet you there, yeah?”

Before Y/N could nod again, Harry leaned forward and pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Then he placed a soft kiss on her lips.

“That’s to make up for Friday,” he remarked, his mouth only a whisper away from hers.

“Oh.” Y/N could barely breathe.

“Your lips are delicious. Like that wine.”

Pressing another kiss to her mouth, Harry let out a low, deep groan. Y/N’s chest shook as she was finally able to inhale. When he backed away, she opened her eyes to see his were still closed. She watched as he swallowed hard, his jaw set.

“Harry…” she managed to squeak.

He opened his eyes slowly, and that’s when she noticed. Instead of the glowing crystal shade they had been Friday, they were a deep, dark shade of midnight. Startled once again, she hastily scooted back, her chair scraping against the floor.

“Y/N,” he croaked, slowly blinking. “Please don’t be frightened of me.”

“Your-your eyes!” she gasped. “They k-keep changing.”

“Oh,” Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. They do that sometimes. When I get…excited.”

“Excited?”

“Nothing to worry about, darling,” he reassured her, rising from the desk. “I’m sort of a…freak of nature.”

Y/N could detect the humorous tone in his words. But still, she remained in her seat, a bit frazzled.

“C’mere,” he said, holding out his hand.

Y/N took it hesitantly, allowing Harry to pull her to her feet. Lifting a hand, he lightly brushed her hair from her shoulder. Then she felt him touch her neck, his large hand gliding across it.

“So lovely,” he cooed, his voice just above a whisper. “Delicate, like a China doll.”

When he pulled her closer, she could feel his breath on her cheek. Then he nibbled at her jaw, sending a wave of desire down to her core.

Holy fuck, what is happening?

She gasped when his tongue met her skin, his other hand gripping her waist. She dug her nails into the front of his sweater, not sure how or where to hold on. As he began to suck on her delicate flesh just beneath her ear, she cried out in pleasure.

“Harry…”

Almost instantaneously, Harry pushed her back against the bookshelves. The thud caused a couple of books to fall off and onto the floor, but Harry continued with his seduction. Y/N lifted her leg, wrapping it around Harry’s in order to feel the friction she now so needed. Running her hands through his hair, she heard him growl in her ear.

“Y/N…I need you.”

“Me too,” she gasped.

When she pulled him even closer, tugging on the waistband of his trousers, however, Harry froze. Then he let out a guttural cry, like a wounded animal.

“Aaauuuuggggghhhhhh!” he screamed. “No!”

Pushing himself away from the bookshelf, he stood before Y/N as she remained still, her eyes wide. Harry appeared to be shaking, as though he was willing himself not to go further.

“Harry?” Y/N whispered.

His eyes shut tight, Harry shook his head. Then gritting his teeth, he motioned toward the door. “Go.”

“What?” Y/N asked incredulously.

“Goooo!” Harry shouted.

“Harry, what’s wrong?”

Folded over at his waist, Harry looked like he was trying to catch his breath. Her fear magnified, thinking something was terribly wrong. Y/N stepped forward, reaching for him.

“No!” he cried.

“Harry, you’re scaring me…”

“Just go. Please. You’re dismissed.”

Quickly, Y/N grabbed her jacket and bag and ran for the door. Turning back, she saw Harry, his back to her as he gripped the edge of the bookshelf. She didn’t dare run back to him, though deep inside she wanted to. She was afraid, not for her own safety…but for his.

Y/N stepped out of the English building into the cool evening air. The sun was just beginning to descend. Before making her way to the parking lot, she looked up at the building, to the window she knew was occupied by Dr. Osborne’s department. She saw no sign of Harry. In fact, the lights had been turned off.

Crossing the street, she felt a cold chill down to her bones. What had just happened? Was Harry ill? Or was he really a ‘freak of nature’ like he’d said? Perhaps he was not the sweet, nerdy guy she’d pinned him to be. Maybe he had some serious demons. Though she felt concerned for him, she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.

Harry watched her through the pub window again. She was dressed as an angel, of all things. This was too easy, too perfect.

But he might as well have had his eyes closed. He could hear her blood pumping through the glass. Her pulse was so loud, he could barely contain his excitement.

This was it. This would be the night.

“So you’re sure he’s not coming?” asked Lauren as they sat at the bar.

Y/N wasn’t going to show up herself, but she’d already put together an angel costume that she didn’t want to see go to waste.

“I mean, would you?” Y/N raised a brow.

She’d told her friend about the two episodes with Harry, and how both times he’d backed off. She didn’t go into details, though. Nothing about the eye color changing, or how he’d told her to leave. Some things were better left unsaid.

Lauren shrugged. “You never know. He might still show up.”

Josh returned from playing darts with his friends, declaring a new round of drinks was required.

“I think I might sit this one out,” remarked Y/N.

“No, girl, c’mon!” whined Lauren. “We’re here to have fun tonight. No matter what.”

“Okay, fine,” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Two kamikazes over here!” her friend called out.

When Lauren swiveled around on her stool, Y/N caught the look of awe on her face. Then with a grin, she poked Y/N in the arm. Turning around, she spotted Harry entering the pub, dressed in black from head to toe.

“Yes, Daddy!” Lauren remarked under her breath.

“Harry!” exclaimed Y/N. “You came!”

“I told you I would,” he declared, stepping forward. “And I intend to keep my promises.”

“Look at you, man,” remarked Josh. “Great vampire costume.”

Harry looked down at his coat. He knew his fangs weren’t showing. Not yet. He checked his nails to be sure. Nope, clean and short. Raising his head, he heard Josh cackle.

“I mean, it’s subtle. But the eyeliner and clear eyes are effective.”

Ah. So it was the eyes. He couldn’t help that much. They had been glowing since he’d smelled Y/N’s blood. He’d let the lad think he was wearing makeup. It was Halloween after all.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” said Y/N, her sweet voice ringing out like the angel that she was.

Harry’s lips curled up in a smile. “Me too. Brilliant costume.”

The sound of Lauren clearing her throat cut through the moment before she handed Y/N her cocktail.

“What are you having, Mr. Styles?” she teased, giving Y/N a wink.

“Harry, please,” he insisted. “A glass of merlot would be divine.”

“Divine? Oooh, listen to this scholar!”

Y/N made a face, then turned back to Harry.

“I wasn’t sure you’d show up. After yesterday.”

“Yeah, I need to talk to you about that,” he said, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. “But later, okay? In private?”

“Okay.”

After Harry received his merlot, everyone made a toast. As soon as “Thriller” began to play, Lauren cheered, pulling Josh off his stool to dance with her.

“They had a head start,” Y/N commented with a giggle.

“No, I’m late, and I apologize. But I can catch up,” Harry winked.

The evening progressed, the foursome sharing laughs and cocktails. Some other people from the university recognized Harry and came over to say hello. As the clock ticked on, however, Harry knew his time was getting limited.

“I need to talk to you now,” he told Y/N. “Walk with me?”

“Oh. Okay,” she slipped down from her stool and announced her departure to her friends.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Lauren teased before waving goodbye.

“Are you okay to walk?” Harry asked once they were outside.

“I think so,” she smirked. “You may need to carry me.”

“I could probably manage that,” Harry chuckled.

The cool night air seemed to help, however, and by the time they rounded the corner of the pub, the couple was holding hands.

“I had a great time,” declared Y/N. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Me too.”

“So what did you want to tell me?”

“First, I wanna show you something.”

Harry squeezed her hand, guiding her to the left behind the pub. Y/N chuckled to herself as she heard the beat of “Time Warp”, the volume getting lower before she and Harry came to the local park.

Harry gestured toward a bench, taking a seat next to her. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself.

“Are you cold?” asked Harry.

“A little. I didn’t bother with a coat because…you know, wings.”

“You’ll be much warmer soon,” he commented.

Y/N turned to give Harry a look but noticed his eyes were focused on the sky.

“What is it?” Y/N inquired.

“Just looking at the moon,” Harry replied. “It’s mystifying, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…I guess.”

Harry could feel his eyes changing already, his teeth sharpening in his mouth. Running his tongue across them, he swallowed hard.

“Do you ever wonder if you’re destined to be something else?” he suddenly asked.

“Um…yeah,” Y/N blinked. “All the time.”

“What would you do if you were immortal?”

Harry turned his head then, and Y/N noticed his eyes were dark, like they had been in the English office. She instantly scooted back on the bench, nearly falling off.

“Please don’t be frightened, my angel. I mean no harm to you.”

“Harry, what’s….what’s going on?” she croaked, her own eyes unable to tear away from his.

Harry reached his hand out, his nails now long with pointed ends. Y/N gasped, her mouth wide open.

“Let me show you, Y/N,” he coaxed, grabbing her hand. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, my love. It’s our destiny.”

Before Y/N could reply, Harry’s mouth covered hers in a deep kiss. He could feel her struggle to break free for just a split second before she melted into the kiss with him. Cradling the back of her head, he deepened the kiss further, his tongue wrestling with hers. He felt her moan against him, and that pleased him.

She grabbed hold of the lapels on his coat, pulling him closer. Wrapping his other arm around her waist, he held her tight as his mouth continued to devour hers. He heard her start to whimper, and he couldn’t help but chuckle low. His angel. She needed him.

Y/N gasped as Harry’s mouth moved to her neck. She felt him nibble along the delicate flesh, her senses reeling. Suddenly, he groaned in her ear, his voice deep.

“It’s time, my angel.”

Time? Time for what?

Before the words could escape her lips, she felt a sharp sting followed by the most blissful, orgasmic sensation she’d ever experienced. The blood in her veins seemed to rush so rapidly, and so loudly that she could hear it, like waves crashing in her ears. She threw her head back as Harry held onto her, his mouth never leaving her neck.

She thought she called out in ecstasy, though she was unsure if it was only in her mind. She grasped at Harry’s arms, needing to feel him, to hold him for fear of falling.

The pleasure began to heighten even more, Y/N’s nails digging into Harry’s coat until she was suddenly cloaked in darkness, as though the world had gone black.

“Y/N…”

She heard the soft, low coo before she opened her eyes.

“Wake up, angel,” he said.

“Harry…” she whispered, her throat dry. “What…?”

Feeling her tremble, he pulled her close. “Shh, baby. Everything’s okay now. I’m right here.”

“Where are we?” she inquired, gazing around the dark room, filled with lit candles.

“My bed,” Harry grinned.

“Oh.”

And just like that, Y/N didn’t even question it. Being in Harry’s room, with him in his bed felt…natural. Almost like deja vu. Lush linens, the smell of plums and incense. Her warm, naked body next to his. It felt familiar. It was right.

Seeing that Y/N was now content, Harry smiled wide. Then sliding his hand up her side, he cupped her breast. Her eyelids fluttered as she let out a long moan.

“Ah, you’re ultra sensitive now, hmm?” Harry commented as he ran his thumb across her nipple.

“Harry…mmm…”

Rolling onto her side, she pulled him into a kiss, needing to feel him. She sucked on his tongue, grabbed his hard cock. She was hungry with lust.

“Easy, baby,” he panted. “We have all the time in the world.”

“But I need you now,” she explained with a pout.

With a raspy chuckle, Harry laid her back on the bed, hovering over her luscious body.

“I wanna taste you first,” he insisted.

Biting her lip, Y/N nodded. Yes, taste me.

His long body slithered down hers until he was facing her hips and thighs. Her scent permeated the sheets, and he found a moan rising from his throat.

My delicious angel.

Y/N let out a loud cackle when Harry lightly tickled her bare skin along her hips. Harry grinned, knowing her sensitivity was accelerated. But it was not just his touch that had her laughing. It was the mere awareness of everything. Being in the moment. The utter bliss and sexual desire was almost more than her senses could handle.

Harry could hardly contain his desire either. He needed to taste her, to feel her writhing underneath him. But he also wanted to take it slow.

He rutted his head against the inside of her legs, like a dog wanting to be petted. He felt her nails dig into his hair, grabbing his curls just before he began to nibble on her thigh. As her moans got louder, ringing in his ears and throughout the room, Harry wondered how long he could hold out - or better yet, how long she could hold out.

With wild abandon, he let himself be the freak of nature he claimed to be. He heard her squeal before her expletive.

“Holy shit, did you just bite me?”

“Maybe,” he chuckled low. “Did it hurt?”

“Actually…no. Do it again.”

With another grin, Harry ran his thumbs across her bare flesh along her inner thigh.

“I love your skin here,” he commented. “It’s so soft and supple.”

Then lowering his head again, he let his fangs graze down her leg and back up. He felt Y/N tremble beneath him, a small cry rising from her throat. Then very gently, he pressed a little harder, barely piercing the skin.

Y/N moaned in pleasure as Harry licked the area clean, tasting her sweet blood on his tongue. Then he moved his tongue to the task at hand - what he’d come for. Centering his mouth over her mound, he let out a cool breath, tickling her. She squirmed beneath him, her desire silent but apparent. She craved him just as much as he craved her. Then lifting her hips, he brought his tongue to her clit, giving it one quick flick before diving in.

If there was one thing Harry knew he was good at - other than his knowledge of English literature - it was eating pussy. And now that he was a creature of the night, he could do it for hours, for days. Of course, having a sweet angel like Y/N beneath him was all he needed now.

Y/N’s moans began to subside a bit, but Harry knew it was not because she wasn’t enjoying it. On the contrary. She was so enraptured by his talent, she could barely breathe.

Sweet little kitten. He almost felt sorry for her, but not really. He knew this was what she wanted, what she was destined for. He’d felt it the first time they’d met. Her wide-eyed stare when she thought he wasn’t looking. Her cute little shy giggles at every stupid joke he made. The intoxicating aroma of her blood rushing through her veins. And when she’d finally invited him up to her flat…

“Oh my God…” she panted, her nails digging into his head. “Oh!”

Harry hummed against her cunt, tasting her sweet juices. He knew she was close. He’d let her come this time. She needed it. Needed that release. Just this once. Next time he’d make her ride it out longer, because he knew she could.

As his lips took hold of her clit once more, sucking gently, Y/N gasped. Then crying his name, she gushed and came on his tongue, just like he’d wanted.

Her orgasm lasted longer than any she’d had before…not that she could recall even one in that moment. Her chest heaved with breaths as she tried to come down. She felt Harry’s body climb up before he laid down next to her.

“How do you feel, my angel?” Harry cooed.

With a deep, long sigh, Y/N gave a wide grin.

“Perfect. Absolutely perfect,” she replied, fluttering her eyelids open to reveal her crystal clear eyes.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! xo

taglist: @daydreaming-laur, @musicforastylesrestaurant, @lillefroe, @be-with-me-so-happily (so sorry if I forgot anyone!!)

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bless-my-demons · 1 year ago

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Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-One

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: More angst, but of the wolfy-variety!

Notes: I know I said two chapters before Jasper, but I had to fit this one in which is why I’m posting out of my normal window. Trust the process when it comes to why I did what I did this chapter lol and if you don’t spot it, everything will be fine (famous last words). Honestly I think I’m just healing inner me with how I wish conversations should’ve happened in the movie lol

Word Count: 2401

Series Masterlist

• March 8th, 2006 • Home •

Reader

Time starts to pass by a little easier with Quil, the quiet isn’t as deafening even when there’s a comfortable silence. I think the same could be said for Quil, since all of his Rez friends have gone AWOL.

Our days are usually spent under blankets on my couch, watching movies and just being present for each other. Plus, there’s not much to do in this tiny ass town anyways.

“Heard anything?” I ask him tentatively, hopefully.

He shakes his head solemnly in response, eyes never leaving the tv. The fact that he doesn’t even want to talk about Jake or Embry twists a new little knife in my gut.

“I’m okay, Y/n/n.” The grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes and I hate it.

“It’s okay to miss them, I know it’s hard to be stuck with just me now-”

“Don’t.” He reaches over to grab my ankle since I’m facing him on the couch and drags it to his lap, “You’re here and they’re not. I was friends with them longer and they ditched me for other dudes. I’m where I want to be.”

“You don’t have to hold it all in, I’m familiar with that feeling.” I nudge his hand with my socked foot to get him to look at me. “What good am I if I don’t therapize you too?”

“That would insinuate I do anything for you, you won’t talk about him.” His gaze levels on me and I’m caught red handed.

“There’s not much to it, I-I loved him and he’s gone. End of story.” I pick at the loose strings on my blanket, the topic hard for me to meet his eyes.

“There’s everything to it.” He squeezes my foot, “Not end of story, you deserve to vent just as much as I do. You don’t need to feel guilty for grieving him, heartache is a real bitch.”

“Heartache is a bitch, huh?” I huff a laugh as I try to breathe through the tears that want to spring up.

“Y/n, I’m the loneliest guy on the planet. In the male friends department and the girlfriend department, don’t make fun of me.” His lighthearted tone trying and failing to make light of his situation.

“We’re just fucked, aren’t we?” His brown eyes meet mine as we commiserate in our collective sadness.

His head drops back against the back of the couch, “Beyond comprehension, my dear Y/n/n.”

• March 11th, 2006 • Home •

Reader

My finger hovers over a text to Quil, asking him to come over, when I get a call from my other best friend.

“Bells, hey-”

“I need backup.” Her request draws me up short. “I’m going to the Rez-I need to see Jacob.”

“Bella, he’s with Sam now-”

“I don’t care anymore, you in?” She presses.

“I was in the second you called, I’ll be waiting outside.”

“Good, because I’m almost there.” Hanging up the phone, I grab a jacket and my shoes.

So much for the first day of Spring Break, might as well start it off with a bang.

•March 11th, 2006 • Quileute Indian Reservation•

Reader

Bella slid to a stop in Jacob’s driveway and both of us hopped out, memories of bike-building settling like a weight in my stomach. It wasn’t even that long ago and I miss it, I miss Jacob.

Bella knocks on the glass pane of his front door and Billy Black answers, “Bella?”

“I need to see him.”

“He-,” glancing between us briefly, “he’s not in.” The lie blatantly obvious.

“I’m sorry,” Bella pushes past his wheelchair and inside the house, “I really need to see him.”

I remain awkwardly on the front porch, torn between not wanting to intrude or following my friend.

“Bella!” Billy’s warning is ineffective as she storms to Jacob’s room.

Just when the situation couldn’t possibly get worse, I spot four shirtless figures emerging from the forest by the house, Sam’s group.

I hear the back door open and shut and I just know it’s Bella.

I sprint around the house to catch up to her, “Bella!” But my warning falls on deaf ears, she’s on a warpath for the boys. “Shit.” I mutter under my breath.

Stomping up to the tallest - Sam, “What did you do?” She pushes his chest, hard. “What did you do, huh? What did you do to him?!”

“Hey - watch it!” The other two guys plus Embry shout as they step up around their leader.

“Easy.” The word is more of a growl than anything and it causes the hair on the back of my neck to rise.

If this comes to a fight, we’re fucked.

“He didn’t want this!” Her desperation pulls at my heart.

“What did we do? What did he do? What did he tell you?” The questions from the guy to Sam’s right are rapid-fire, his anger clearly volatile.

“He tells me nothing, because he’s scared of you!”

The same guy barks out a laugh, clearly he finds her concern for Jacob silly.

“Bella, let’s go home-” but my plead immediately goes unheard because she throws a fucking right hook for the guys face, son of a bitch.

“Too late now.” Another guy jokes, clearly enjoying the situation.

“Bella, get back!” Sam orders, trying to diffuse the situation as this guy begins to shake.

I grab her arm and we slowly start to retreat for her truck, too scared to turn and take our eyes off of the angry male.

“Bella…” I whisper, unsure of what to do.

“Paul! Calm down now.” The authority in Sam’s voice rings through the backyard, but it’s too late somehow.

The shaking and heavy breathing from Paul leads to a transformation that snatches my breath from my body - a wolf. And not just any wolf, a wolf from the fucking meadow. A wolf that saved us from Laraunt, now standing before us where Paul was.

Where Paul was.

Paul is a wolf. A really big one at that - a really big angry one.

Anger directed at Bella and by association, me. The death grip I have on her fucking arm has to be painful, but the menacing look in his eyes shocks me to my bones.

Bella moves before I do, using my tight grip on her to yank me into action with her as she makes for Jacob’s house.

“Bella! Y/n!” Jake yells, clearing the back porch railing in one leap, sprinting for us.

“Run! Jake, run!” Bella screams back at him, but he charges towards us anyways.

He jumps last minute before he reaches us and I trip trying to follow his path with my eyes before-

Before he turns into a fucking wolf too.

Jacob Black, our best friend, is a wolf? I mean, vampires are definitely a thing, but wolves?

Squaring off with Paul, both the russet-colored wolf and the silver-grey wolf launch for each other. Snapping and snarling as they roll into the woods, my heart painfully thumps in my chest, Jacob.

“Hey, take the girls back to Emily’s place.” Sam orders Embry and the last remaining male, both of them jogging over to us.

“I guess the wolf’s out of the bag.” They joke, ushering us up and towards Bella’s truck.

They’re wolves, Sam’s gaggle of Rez boys are fucking wolves. Jacob is one of them and so is Embry, what about Quil? Is this why they’ve ditched him, ditched us? Wolves can’t be friends with humans? What do I even tell him, or should I tell him anything?

My mind is racing a million miles an hour in the span of seconds with questions I desperately need answers to.

Embry holds open the passenger side door to Bella’s truck with a smile and I walk right past his invitation to climb in the bed with the newly acquainted Jared.

“Y/n, that’s not safe-”

“I’ll be fine.” I don’t even spare a glance at him with my monotone answer, I’m mad at him for how he’s treating Quil.

Jared raises his eyebrows and quirks a grin. “Feisty, I like it.”

Embry huffs as he shuts the door behind Bella and rounds the truck for the driver’s side, “Don’t encourage her, man.”

• March 11th, 2006 • Uley Residence •

Reader

“Hey I think we should go back and see if Jacob’s okay.” Bella rolls down her window as the rest of us hop out of her truck.

“I hope Paul sinks some teeth in him, serves him right.” Jared quips to Embry.

“No way! Jacob’s a natural, you see him phase on the fly? I got five that says Paul doesn’t even touch him.” Embry argues, “C’mon in Bella! We won’t bite.”

“Speak for yourself.” Jared jokes and I shove him as we turn to walk inside.

“Oh hey, about Emily - Sam’s fiancé? Don’t stare, it bugs Sam.” Embry warns both of us before following Jared.

“Why would we stare?” Bella asks and I shrug, just as confused.

“You guys hungry? Like I have to ask.” The female in the kitchen asks the boys, laughing at what must be an inside joke. “Who’s this?” She asks after turning around, glancing between us.

“Bella Swan and Y/n Y/l/n.” Jared answers her.

“Hmm… So, you’re the vampire girl-well, girls.” I instantly admire her easy-going vibe, diving straight in to acknowledge the elephant in the room to get it over with.

“So you’re the wolf girl?” Bella asks in return, accepting her olive branch.

“Guess so,” smiling to herself, she picks up the largest platter I’ve ever seen of muffins, “Well, I’m engaged to one.” Snatching both Embry and Jared’s hands as they reach- “Save some for your brothers! And ladies first, muffin?” It’s comical, the way she mothers them.

“Thank you, Emily.” I smile at her and sit across from Jared, the muffin still warm from the oven.

“Leave it to Jacob to find a way around Sam’s gag order.” Emily scoffs, not surprised.

“Umm, he didn’t… Say anything to us.” Glancing at me, Bella explains.

“That’s a wolf thing, alpha’s orders get obeyed whether we want ‘em to or not. Oh and check it out - we can hear each other’s thoughts.” Embry brags and I gape, this is all fucking wild.

“Would you shut up! These are trade secrets - damnit, these chicks run with vampires!” Jared’s frustration is lighthearted as he admonishes Embry for giving away some of their abilities.

“Can’t really run with vampires,” Emily and I chuckle at the boys not quite catching on, “Because they’re fast.”

“Yeah? Well we’re faster. Freaked out yet?”

“You’re not the first monsters we’ve met.”

“Jake’s right, you’re good with weird.” Sam nods at us, beelining for Emily as soon as he steps in the door. He presses kisses to her lips and then all over her face, causing her to giggle. The obvious display of affection carving out my heart just a little bit more - looking away I set my muffin down, no longer hungry.

Pushing and shoving each other, Paul and Jacob finally show - unhurt and brotherly even. They just beat the shit out of each other and they’re tighter than ever? Boys.

“Sorry.” Paul apologizes and flashes what has to be his signature smile at both of us.

I catch Jacob jerking his head towards the door and Bella follows, probably off to explain this whole entire shit show. I turn my gaze to Embry and level a glare on my former friend, waiting for him to say something.

“You going to let me explain? Or are you going to look at me like you’d like to castrate me until Bella gets back?” Embry stares right back, munching on another muffin.

“Jared?” I look at him sweetly and he grins, “take me home?”

Embry stands so quick and his chair teeters dangerously on two legs for a moment. “Y/n.” His tone is hard, done with this game.

“Embry.” I match him back.

He walks out the front door and it drags me from my own chair, this blowout long overdue.

“You know now and you’re still fucking mad at me?” He turns, leaning against Bella’s truck and folding his arms.

“I don’t even know where to start, Embry!” I yell at him exasperated. “You ditched us, you ditched your longest running best friend-”

“I had no choice!”

“He’s struggling-”

“I’m struggling!” His eyes are wild and his hands have a slight shake, “Cutting everyone out has been the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done! I can’t tell anyone, can’t see anyone, can’t do what I want to do anymore! I belong to this Reservation, to this pack, to Sam now. He says jump, I ask how high. He says keep your mouth shut, I cut everyone out. It’s how it has to be.”

“Embry, that’s no way to live.” My heart breaks for his situation.

“It’s in my blood and not something I can opt out of, Y/n/n. Besides, they’re my brothers now and they need me as much as I need them.”

I surge forward to hug him, “I’m still mad at you for Quil.”

“I missed you too.” I hear his grin as I hug him tight. “You can’t tell him though.”

Immediately I retreat, “What?”

“It’s a tribe secret, the pack is sacred and must be protected.”

“He wouldn’t done anything to endanger-”

“It doesn’t matter, anyone on the outside has to stay on the outside. It’s not like I don’t want to, he’s my best fucking friend. But he doesn’t have a need-to-know.”

“Embry-”

“I can’t argue with you about this, please drop it.” His wide eyes plead with me and I surrender.

“Okay, okay. Consider it dropped.” I mime like I’m locking my lips closed and I toss the invisible key over my shoulder.

“Good,” throwing an arm over my shoulder, he leads me back inside, “Now you can hang with the big dogs.”

“Okay I’m going to need you to not make stupid jokes about this situation.” But I laugh anyways, I miss this - him.

I smile to myself, happy to finally have people back in my life that I thought were gone for good. I still feel the massive hole in my chest, but the pain is on the back burner for now.

At least until I’m alone again.

Taglist Part 1:

@aoi-targaryen @Min-jianhyung @pbbsl @timelordhunterandmysterysolver @sheerangermany @clearwater-hoe @Blackbluerose666 @ivy-plays @random-human02 @delightfulbluebirdstarlight @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gaymazinglula @l3ejm @angelfuzzy2 @losa12308 @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @flyawayprincess @ropickle @catbusloki @deviat3dsn0wf0x @lovesanimals0000 @unrevived @h-naec @cutesnakemum @zudooms @itsmytimetoodream @stinkii-boii @acoolnight @anothercoffeeblogx @irishblend10 @from-now-on-im-switzerland @kyraslife2 @naolvshan @kiiwiigii @rosedpetal @kiaraandrea @foolsgoldxo @heartfilia01 @azuredgalaxies @geekysimmerthings @graciereads @ramen-girl-2424 @0hmydekiru @creeqvealley @cherriebat @whichwitchisthebitch @dragon-rider-with-a-book @secretfairytailpetscookie @psychobitchsthings

#redamancy series #bless-my-demons #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper hale x female!reader #twilight fanfiction #jasper whitlock hale #twilight #jasper hale #female reader insert

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samfucker · 3 months ago

Text

more darlin hcs..... evil laugh

tw for mention of death and drugs

im gonna give u guys the family names cus itll get confusing w the siblings i think.

their oldest brother is called lucien, then its their sister camilla, then julius (darlin) then their little brother kenji (kenny) and then the youngest, aisha.

IM SORRY IF ITS CONFUSING!!!!

their dad is called ronan and their mom is called kalliyan

ronan was a vet! he lost his leg in an explosion and wears a prosthetic which julius helped him take off and put it on. he also would take his dad to the store in his wheelchair and stuff

julius used to also get into arguments w racist strangers who would insult his parents when they didn't even know enough english to understand what was going on.

despite his parents' abuse and neglect, julius loved them he saught out their approval a lot. he wanted to make them proud and happy even if it seemed impossible. he hated himself for it and tried to stop, but he always felt ashamed and guilty when his parents would be disappointed in him. he wished he didn't care like lucien and camilla.

he used to have a little brother who was aisha's twin, but he passed away from cancer when he and aisha were very young, around 4 years old. julius was 14 and he didn't get a chance to properly until he was nearing his adult years because of how much responsibilities he had

he blamed himself for a long time. he did everything he could to give his younger siblings a good life despite their parents and he felt very useless, like he should have been able to stop it even though he was literally unable to. he cried for hours when the family dog accidentally ruined one of his little brother's stuffed animals

one of his first tattoos was one for his little brother

julius was sent to an empowered tti (troubled teen industry)

he tries to come off as very cold and aloof, but he feels things deep

his dad pushed toxic masculinity onto him and his brothers, so he was convinced he was unable to cry until being with sam

rather than letting himself feel sadness, he often let it turn into anger. it was something he was more familiar with, something that felt more manly, which is why he was so reckless

he also threw himself into dangerous situations because he cared very little for himself. he felt like he deserved the consequences because he hurts people with his anger. it was like revenge to himself for hurting people he cares about

he had unhealthy coping mechanisms, often turning to drugs whenever things became too much. he used drugs more while dating quinn. (he went to rehab in washington)

julius never really got much sleep. as a teenager, he'd either be dealing with his parents during the night or working night shifts. when it'd be neither, he'd be woken by kenji because he often got night terrors. after breaking up with quinn, he slept even less. he felt extremely guilty for his unempowered friend, trevor, being attacked by quinn. he'd have nightmares and sleepless nights filled with guilt and regret. the first time he slept a full proper night was in the cuddles and confessions audio with sam.

the first time he was healed by marie, she was so gentle and talked to him softly, like a mother should, and it was something he had been longing for from his mother for so long that he cried when he got home

ON A MORE LIGHTER NOTE...

julius used to have a crush on milo. they like pretty boys with accents, its a given

julius had more muscle than quinn. quinn was just a vampire, so he was stronger

idk if this belongs in the angst section but he used to wear one of his dad's vet hats a lot. it's still in his closet somewhere

he and his siblings would have arguments over stupid shit then forgive each other in 5 seconds. like yelling at each other than a minute later julius is like hey do you wanna go to this restaurant with me lol...

when sam zipped away from him in their very first audio, julius was sooo giddy cus he loved sam's accent

HE LOVES LIZARDS!!!! he used to go around and look for them. one of his first times at david's house as a teen there was a tiny lizard on the wall nd he just picked it up and was just like "...lizard."

hes just an awkward little loser i lvoe him.

FNAF PHASE! CREEPYPASTA PHASE! NIGHTCORE PHASE!

he has a shirt that says "blowjobs are real jobs" and he wears it unironically

one of his first roommates ever had a whole room for her big ass iguana. to this day, julius is bitter that he never got to pet it

he need glasses but he never wears them outside. he's walked past the pack and the mates multiple times without even knowing, especially cause he goes into his own little world when he walks

one time he walked past lovely with his headphones on and he couldn't tell it was them. all he thought was "dude why is this stranger staring me down??"

he calls sam his bitch sometimes cause he thinks its so funny. sam stares at him with a deadpan expression

he has a metal plate in his eye socket that he needed to get when he was a baby. he sticks magnets to his face when he's bored but it gives him really bad headaches in the cold

loves side-eyeing

will talk about his trauma casually.

"that actually reminds me of the time my mom tried to shoot my dad! haha, oh that was so crazy. the cops came. :)"

also, leather jacket luvr

he has a motorcycle

tongue piercing (sam loves it)

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted darlin #redacted sam #redacted quinn #redacted tank #redacted headcanons

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a-sunset-outside-my-window · 2 months ago

Text

fic rec friday

I'm starving, darling.

by MarigoldWritesThings @marigold-hills on Ao3

“Dear gods you are gorgeous,” the man said before Remus could utter a sound. “I’m so sorry about this. Truly. I wouldn’t, but it’s a rather desperate situation you see.”

I’m going to get mugged, Remus realised. Here, under the sharp stars, in the soft snow, by the hands of the most beautiful man he had ever laid his eyes on.

And wasn’t that just his luck.“Trust me,” the man continued, “I am no more pleased about it than you are, but it’s a matter of life and death at this point, otherwise… well, sorry. Again.”

***

Remus is accosted by a vampire on his way home. Strange in itself. But when the vampire realises he has anaemia, he starts bringing him food. And medication. And nice little treats to make him feel better.

And - well. Remus never claimed to be a man of strong convictions.

Ahh! So lovely and silly and sweet! I'm actually not sure if I recommend this fic already but if I did... just read it again? It's genuinely so good!

Of Fright, Cold, and Cruel Memories

by MidnightStargazer on Ao3

The house is haunted. That much was obvious from day one. But as for the story behind how the ghost came to be there...Be careful.

There are some mysteries better left unsolved. The truth about this one just might break your heart.

This one broke my heart a little bit. Don't mind me, crying in the corner... we love some Black family angst!

Prior Incantato

by AuroraNova on Ao3

Dudley Dursley's life was perfectly normal - until his younger daughter's eleventh birthday, when a letter arrived which forced him to recall buried memories about wizards and magic. Now he has to navigate raising a witch, a complicated relationship with his famous cousin, and his mother's loathing of magic, all while coming to terms with his childhood. And he's still afraid of dementors.

I've been really in the mood for redemtion fics lately so here you go with that I guess ^^' I just love this!!

so... I don't really know what the vibe for this fic rec is supposed to be? It's kind of all over the place lol but I just read so many good fics this last week and wanted to share a few of those

As always leave lots of love and kudos to the authors and have an amazing rest of the week <3

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kenposting · 1 year ago

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Every Night is Ghoul's Night

Summary: Ken leads the way to the Real World to join Barbie for a new holiday he doesn't quite understand. Once he arrives, he learns that most things in this place are hard to understand.

WC: 1.4k + there's a few 4th wall breaks so if that is hard for u don't read this!! ken goes to the real world for a Halloween party and people there have seen the barbie movie

AN: i'm leaving town for like 9 days on the 18th and i just wanted to write something silly before i left!!! after seeing the movie my friend and i talked about being barbie and ken for halloween and it crossed my mind that that would probably confuse him lol. ps thank u for all ur kind words omg!!! i love ken so much and u guys make me want to just keep writing about him CRYING EMOJI!!! thank u seriously wtf u guys are so nice to me wtf .

Read other Ken stories here: Masterlist

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀ ⋆｡°✩ 🕸⋆｡°✩⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

He really was trying to understand it all. This felt like Patriarchy all over again. Turns out Halloween is not about tiny black sky dogs coming to bite you to assert their dominance (allegedly called “bats” like baseball), nor is it about evil vegetables that come to life and are filled with fire. Wild, I know.

“It’s okay you guys, I know what I’m doing, I’ve done this before.”

Ken stuck out a dismissive hand, reminding the rest of the Barbies (and the Kens and Allen) that he’s been to the Real World (and even found his way back all by himself!) as he led the way. He wanted them to feel at ease – he remembered how worried he was the first time he went to the Real World. It was not like he expected at all.

He reassured them he definitely knows what's up. Except that he doesn’t. And he didn’t last time either.

One (very long, as the passenger Barbies and Kens and Allen well exceeded the hundreds) car-rocket-boat-rv-bike-jetski-rollerblade trip later and Ken was met with Barbie in Venice Beach, just like last time.

“Hi Ken! Hi Barbie! Hi Ken! Hi Barbie! Hi Barbie! Hi Ken!”

He was so happy to see her and wanted to hear all about how she’d been and what she'd been up to (as well as thank her for inviting him and everyone over), but that must wait, lest he misunderstands Halloween any longer.

He was on a mission, that’s for sure.

All of the crew skated alongside Barbie, following her to her sorority house. Ken didn't know what that was, but he figured it didn't have to do with Halloween, so he wasn't interested. They were throwing a giant blowout party with all the students (and planned choreography, and a bespoke song) for 'Halloween', whatever that was.

His original costume was a vampire but he scared himself in the mirror and cried so he settled instead for a cowboy (not that that had to be a costume, he liked to look like that anyways).

It would’ve been more fitting to dress as a detective the way he wanted so desperately to know what all of this meant. The decorations were… so dark, literally zero sparkles, all of the people at the party looked badly injured, the music had words he’s never heard before, and the fruit punch tasted horrible – like a burning kind of horrible – none of it made any sense to Ken. And the girls were scary too.

They were all touching him and laughing. He couldn’t tell if they were laughing at his confusion or just having fun, but something about it felt weird. They were looking at him in a way he didn’t understand, and he very much sensed an undertone of violence.

“You were soo good in the movie, Ken!”

He couldn’t tell you how many times he’d heard that tonight because he had stopped counting after 20 (he can’t count higher than 20). All the girls saying that to him were wearing Barbie’s clothes, like they had borrowed them from her. He didn’t know why. Wasn’t tonight about dressing up? That’s just what Barbie wore everyday back home. Even the Palazzo pants!

And what movie? The God Father? Why did everyone keep bringing up The Movie™ like he was supposed to know what they were talking about?

He excused himself to further analyze the situation, his eyes squinting and shifting, taking in all the information. The books he read back home said a lot of stuff about magic and evil spirits, but all he knew about magic was from Magic Ken’s earring, let alone what an ‘evil spirit’ was. None of this was appealing, and if he was honest, it all sort of frightened him. Who wants to hang around waiting for Patriarchy guys to jump out and scare you all night?

Which they did. For who knows how many times (he stopped counting at 20). He knew this time they were definitely laughing at him, so excused himself.

The air was cold and the lull of the music and people talking from inside spilled everywhere he went. He couldn’t escape it. It hurt his ears, but at least it wasn’t as loud out here.

Sat on the front step outside under twinkling orange lights was a girl wearing nearly the same costume as him.

He noticed she looked like she wasn’t enjoying herself much either, her chin resting in her palms folded over her lap. The flowers embroidered on her Cowgirl shirt matched his. Even the pattern at the base of his bell-bottoms was the same on her suede skirt.

He stood beside her hesitantly, careful to not disturb her – and also worried she would try to scare him like everyone else had.

“Sorry, is it okay if I sit here? This isn’t going how I thought it would.”

“Oh, parties are for sure the worst part about Halloween.”

Ken’s head tilted to the side, curious.

“Worse than bat?”

You smiled at him, patting the porch next to you, gesturing for him to join.

“You mean bats? Like fruit bats? I think they’re cute.”

“Cute?! Bats are much more dangerous than people realize. Even I know that. You know, Zoologist is not even my job. And it is not Pumpkin Carver, which is a common misconception. Yeah – ‘cause actually my job? It’s just–”

“Beach? And what a good job you do at it? I saw the movie.”

You watched as his brow furrowed.

“What movie? Everyone keeps talking about some movie, did I miss something? All we have at home is The Wizard of Oz and The God Father and neither of those have beach.”

“Oh my gosh, you haven’t seen it? You don’t even know?”

“Know what?”

“Is that even legal? Can Mattel release this without, like, asking for your permission?”

“Permission for what?!”

You took his hand, standing up. He followed suit, proving to be much taller than you’d expected. He kind of towered over you – and you had boots on (to complete the Ken look, of course).

“C’mon, I’ll show you, but it’s going to be really weird to watch yourself and it will probably make you have some sort of existential crisis where you realize you were created by someone in the 60s.”

His face screamed confusion, but he followed you anyway, the two of you strolling through the damp rain-soaked streets from this afternoon’s storm. The theater was only a few blocks away so you didn't mind walking – and it was nice to see the decorations and lights through the windows from parties.

“Hey, did you notice we’re matching!”

“Yeah, Ken, I’m dressed as you.”

He stopped walking, his boot spurs scraping the pavement. You stopped too, turning to face him.

Tears were welling up in his eyes.

“You… You dressed up… as me?”

“Yeah. So did he. And him, and her, and them too.”

You pointed to some of the trick-or-treaters (and even their parents) that walked on the sidewalks beside you. He hadn’t noticed, but you were right. All of them… All of them were dressed as him. And even he knew choosing a costume was a very important – maybe the most important – part of Halloween.

“You mean… I’m cool enough that people here in the Real World want to look… like me?”

His eyes were shiny and huge like a cartoon character. He looked ridiculous, falling apart right here in the road, the glow of the streetlamps glittering around him, but it did pull at your heartstrings a little.

“Ken… You don’t get it. You’re an icon right now.”

“I don’t know what that word means.”

“Like… this movie. Everyone saw it to just have fun with their friends but you really changed a lot of people’s perspectives on some really important stuff. Mojo Dojo Casa Dreamhouses were flying off the shelves – gosh, you were even the most popular tattoo! You taught people something here – showed them a part of themselves they didn't know how to put words to.”

“What is a tattoo?”

You remembered it too, the first time you saw it and laughing before watching your friends bawl their eyes out towards the end. Here in The Real World you had heard about Skipper (although N-SYNC was a surprise…) so you knew it was possible, but it never dawned on you that the Barbies and Kens had no idea that you were all watching. Except Allen, for some reason.

You watched as he just got more and more confused, taking his hand once again and guiding him to the theater.

“Hey… is that a picture of me?”

“Yes, Ken, that’s an advertisement for the movie.”

He really didn’t have any idea.

“Two tickets for Barbie please!”

The guy in the booth was dressed as a vampire, Ken’s decidedly mortal enemy as of the last 24 hours. He looked awestruck.

“Is that Ryan Gosling?”

The two of you replied in unison;

“Who’s Ryan Gosling?”

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀ ⋆｡°✩ 🕸⋆｡°✩⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

#ken #kenergy #barbie #just ken #ken x reader #ken x you #ken x y/n #halloween #<3

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yomogi-mogi-mochi · 1 year ago

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Honey Lemon Crescendo

Pairings: Trey Clover/Vampire MC

Summary: The gods should have made you better, so that they could love you.

The days you pray for the abolishment of your abhorrent form are rare in the centuries you have lived since your family's death, and your turning. Sharpened claws and teeth, the hellfire of your gaze are concealed for your own convenience, you tell yourself, especially as you enroll into NRC. The tonic of human affairs rarely interested you, yet when you find the truly curious case of Trey Clover, someone who is made only of that plain sort, you cannot help but to promise yourself one conversation, some several hours of the thousand thousand you have lived to taste what it is like to be treated, and be human again. But you're a fool, and a hypocrite‒ you find yourself breaking that promise over, and over, and over. Your fragile resolve frays at every sunbeam smile, every ringing laughter of his.

MC is a vampire, unique magic is telepathy, being able to unconsciously hear everyone's thoughts

Notes: Once again I am alive lol. Barely. Just finished my first semester in my Master’s program so I’ve been experiencing a bit a burn out, so I apologize if this isn’t my best work. Also, every time I'm like "hm is this too much trauma?" But then I remember the child murder, kidnapping, and child endangerment that's canon in twst and I'm like ooh wait right nvm I’m good. Fits within the canon. Anyways, I would have liked to explore the concept of BPD and its allegorical connections to Vampirism more in depth, especially due to the social sigma associated with it‒ but I feel that it would be waaaay too long for a one-shot if I did so.

Also, all stand alone quotes that are in italics represent inner thoughts (with some exceptions depending on your personal interpretations)

TW: References to depression, references to religious trauma, exorcism, and cults; references to child abuse; survivors guilt; referenced to verbal abuse; anxiety; panic attacks; slight mentions of eating disorders/disordered eating (suppressing appetite); BPD

GN Terms for MC

AO3 Link Here

Masterlist

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

“There is no sin within this child. Only the devil which lives within them.”

Those were the words that had prevented your burning during the trial, among other things.

Perhaps it was also the way you would keep your claws obscured under thickset leather gloves, conceal your crimson gaze under obsidian shades, or the terror that seized you every night that left you so evidently unraveled in all of your unforgiving guilt and abhorrence for your new form. The pity that could be provoked by the wetness and flush of a child’s face was something many adults in the future instructed was a bias you should have been more grateful for‒ as it triumphed over whatever horrors people held when you spoke a decibel too loudly to show your sharpening fangs, moved too swiftly to confirm the power that swelled within you like simmering, spoiled blood‒ pungent, and nauseating.

It reminds you of the smell at the state of decomposition you found your family in when you returned home from a several day trip with your cello instructor‒ and the smell of its mouth when its sharpened teeth lurched towards your neck, before you felt the metallic taste drip cold into your gasping mouth.

It was first the elongated fangs. Then came the claws, the lack of reflection, the original color of your eyes draining, replaced with a bright vermillion. The enhanced senses and physical power were less noticeable‒ but the subtle power that swelled in your hands when you broke skin and meat with your own grip upon your arm did not go unnoticed by the Supreme Leader who examined your body and soul during your trial.

“This thing should be useful to me, I hope. I was right to send that “Cello Instructor” with them to take care of business here. I’ll continue my divine plan as usual.”

The words themselves terrified you. Should you run? Hide? Die? Where would you go‒ with your small feet and hands? What could you do? The more oppressive horror lay in the confirmation of the whorling suspicion inside of your small, ten-year old mind that your new form allowed for telepathy‒ the exact “usefulness” the Supreme Leader had suspected lapped inside of you. You were absolutely sure of it, days later, when you read the color of the townspeople faces‒ their leering eyes and curled lips, squeezing their children close behind them‒ back towards your home, set ablaze by their torches and oil. The scramble of noise wasn't needed to confirm their disgust of you, but it came anyway.

“Hideous.”

“Demon. Probably killed that poor family.”

“That disguising appearance‒ must be the child of the devil.”

“Murderer. Things like you deserved to be burned. Supreme leader is truly a blessing to take care of such vile things.”

You cowered at their stares‒ but you remember considering it distantly for a moment, even in the midst of your situation. That night you had been found by shaking candlelight, your mouth drenched with blood and fear, palming numbly at your family's cold bodies. You couldn't blame them, you supposed. The townspeople feared you. You feared you. Stay with me . The Supreme Leader told you. And you did.

He defended you during your trial with a kind smile, tying the rope around your wrists loosely with gentle hands, spoke softly of good deeds, good gods, all forgiving and loving. When he convinced the council to graciously join his family , you didn’t run.

“Don’t you want to be loved by god?”

You shakily rolled the breath that seized in your lungs, your small hands clutched in a prayer against the heartbeat that thundered against your bones.

“How pitiful child, that you choke on your sorrow. You, abhorrent creature, abomination of god‒ let me love you .”

“Let me be your god.”

He held a copy of Dissertations Upon the Apparitions of Angels, Daemons, and Vampires of Wonderland in his hands‒ he pressed a finger onto each part of your body, comparing it with his‒ what made him human, and what made you not. He gifted you your own room‒ different from all the other children, deep at the belly of the earth. The cobblestone walls reached high into the heavens where you could not see, even with your enhanced vision‒ the light falling just where your vision could reach. One of his attendants presented him with a pair of cuffs, made specially for your size. The ones they had did not yet fit you. However, he placed them on the ground‒ crescent smile and blackened eyes. You would not escape.

You kept your secrets for a while‒ despite the unquenchable jealousy, festering sin, and violence that sprouted abundantly in the minds of his chosen advisors, who pinched your skin and snaked their cold hands under your shirt. In your ever dwindling, coastal town‒ you'd seen denial was the first reaction to loss. You'd felt a modicum of humanity in your ruthless rejection, letting the inner noise of others curdle in your mind.

Their words on the surface stuck of cheap, saccharine perfume, ones you recognized in the town's alleys and such. Yet you swallowed your nausea down, digesting their words one by one. You still had faith then, capable of religion . So easy to fool back then‒ you think now‒ children rarely doubt the material world. Why would people hurt you on purpose?

You were still a child then‒ an infant in vampiric years.

“ Don’t you want to be loved by god?”

“To be useful to god?”

"Useful to me?"

“They’ve done so much for you.”

“I’ve done so much for you.”

“Don’t you want to repay that?”

You revealed it all, in your childish trust, and his soft hands. You thought perhaps, that adults, despite their true intentions, would help you somehow. Belief in good will. Faith. It grips you with force.

It wasn’t all violence at first. But you began to fear the day where their actions would finally twist into something reflective of their actual intentions. That day came rather quickly, or so you think. Time did not matter in the small confines of your chambers below ground. The bloodletting, lashings, the vivisections were then all to vanquish the spirits that germinated inside your sinking flesh, possessing you to reveal such “impure things” in front of the people. Purification , he called it, no matter how many times you dried your throat from apologies, or promised you would do better next time. Next time I will speak your truth. God’s truth . You say the way their desires for a monster began to shape every laceration, every break of the bone.

Still, you couldn’t be their monster, nor a human. It seemed that the seeds of sacrilege had been sown firmly into you, and flourished each passing decade in its grotesque power.

The gods should have made you better, so that they could love you.

You’d beg through a dried throat and spinning vision for forgiveness and to appeal your usefulness‒ you knew the moment the priest resumed his kind smile, gentle hands, and his flowery voice‒ that he had found a use for you. Work for me , he said‒ and you obliged. He held your hand again, with a firm grip, and brought you to trials, his grand meetings with thousands of his followers‒ and you’d do his bidding, pointing a shaking finger at “non-believers” and spies‒ watching closely, where the supreme leader’s eyes leered and narrowed in order to anticipate your next move of survival . By then, you had learned to tune out a significant portion of the noise of people, to live in ignorant bliss for the few hours he would spend mending your gashing wounds, let you fiddle around with your cello that had survived the angry mob that burned down your family’s bakery, and home. Soft touches, sweet voice, he spoke.

"Good child, one of god, of forgiveness, of love. "

And you could tell he had meant it‒ knowing that when he lied to you‒ he always clasped his hands unconsciously in prayer. If there were opposing intentions twisting below his perfumed words that you had somehow failed to pick up with your trained senses‒ you couldn’t be bothered to unravel them. It was just nice. To be held again‒ forgiven . By someone at least, if not yourself. You were good. You were good again.

Decades pass‒ the people and the landscape move and breathe. It was only a matter of time your hometown would dwindle into a ghost city, being built on scrappy mines and poor fishermen, controlled by a con-man and his desperate believers. Even with nothing to lose, the remaining residents exiled you. Perhaps it was their humanity that they grasped onto with that final action.

You stand against the passing aches after aches‒ drinking it all from your chalice‒ vessels gilded with gold and hammered with human desire, sitting high to the heavens on altars to hold the blood and wine offered to the gods. You’d been hollowed much like that grail, gouged from the sharpened image of your still, immutable face against the shifting harmony of the world you could not enter. You have no reflection, no face, no name people would call out to take shape as your own, no proof of your corporeal form but your own, cold touch. And the hunger. The hunger seized you at every moment‒ aching through the gums of your fangs, and pounding your heart with the lifeblood that chased it. You were at least alive in your

You'd fashion something from the use you'd have to other people. A frankenstein skin stretched over your bones. You still feel the Supreme Leader’s gaze hollowing your senses.

"It's like they're reading my thoughts."

"Those sunglasses and gloves, what are you trying to stand out? So annoying."

"Why don't you read the atmosphere for once?"

"Arrogant asshole."

"What are you, pretending to be all high and mighty."

"Liar."

The noise never stops completely. But you've learned to shut the world out, better now with the advancements on potions and ear plugs‒ courtesy of the Night Raven College’s curriculum‒ hands free to grasp at every opportunity to prove you had existed in some way‒ a being that was real enough to feel the light of gods' love and forgiveness. Useful. Good.

“How did you know I used browned butter?”

Light‒ feather soft, honey sweet music that streams into your mind.

You always sat alone in the end. There was a composition to everything, as you saw it. And you had perfected the score of distance‒ being able to orchestrate a friendly, carefree facade, an absolutely stupid and undoubtedly shallow passion, pruning the space between you and the world. A gothic mirror to parody themselves, so they could not truly look at your monstrous, yet absent form‒ something you were sure would absolutely rupture the thick skin you've fashioned together out of pieces of the real people unlike yourself. You'd break apart into nothing but dust.

It was like the volume, moods, and rhythms created in the scores you played‒ you charged the room with boisterous laughter and directed the eyes at that, instead of your fervent efforts in composing the most fantastic detachment. In the end, you were almost giddy to see that no one saved you a seat, or spared you a glance when you slipped outside for a cigarette wedged hungrily between your fingers. The nicotine was enough to starve off the ache beginning to turn swiftly to nausea between your wobbling footsteps, and you were glad, you think, to have served your use in the social spiral to be afforded a moment of peace.

Or, you thought.

“Huh?”

“You forgot your prize.” The boy in front of you thrusts a frosted cupcake towards you, prompting you to switch the cigarette to your other hand to receive it. In the subtle moonlight, you see the sugar melted into the cream glitter a bit when you inspect the pastry.

He adjusts the hat on top of his green head of hair as he continues. “The competition to see who could guess all the ingredients in the cake correctly‒ you won, it was perfect, actually.”

You stare at him dumbly and you find yourself scooting over to make space for him. His eyebrows are tilted in a way that made his face a little sorry, a little roguish‒ a combination you found curious raised above those soft honey lemon eyes that hung like that summer fruit above the lush curve of his lashes.

“So‒ how did you know? I’m curious.”

You exhale the rest of the smoke resting in your lungs. “I…used to know people who were bakers. Their secret ingredient in their famous brownies was browned butter. I’ve eaten so many trays I’ve come to know the taste. The rest is just luck.”

He laughs. Not like you had seen out of the corner of your eye when he had been talking to all those people, but a loose, genuine chuckle. “I’d hardly call it luck‒ you got the measurements down pretty close. Impressive, if you ask me. May I ask‒ are you a baker?”

“I…” You find yourself smiling through the cigarette pushed to your lips, careful not to show your teeth. “I used to be. I used to spend a lot of time there, they must have rubbed off me.”

How long has it been since you’ve thought about them? You could remember the distinct nutty smell from the pounds of brown butter your sister was in charge of making‒ the click click click of your mother’s footsteps as she worked from the counter to the rack of trays, preparing the bread dough for proofing. Your father in the background, fiddling with the radio, beaming when he heard a recording of your cello performance on the morning radio. Warmth, sunlight. The beat of your heart, and the heat of your blood.

“You’ll have to give me the recipe then. I’ve been looking for a good brownie recipe.”

A moment to contemplate if you should end this conversation here. Something switches inside of you, perhaps a remnant of that warmth you remembered.

“You have something to write with?”

His face flowers gently into a brightened expression before he pulls out a small notebook from his breast pocket.

“...Thank you.”

You hum apathetically to work through the dreadful loom of warmth you feel when you hand the paper back to him with the recipes you’ve committed to memory from your laborious days at your family’s seaside bakery. The smoke still hanging in the air shifts sharply when you stand, and you flick the cindering cigarette to the pavement to stomp it out. You can tell there is more he wants to say that sits bubbly on his tongue, but you turn towards the door leading back to the Heartslabyul dorm before the words can take form through his smile.

There’s a moment that you stand by the door where you reflect on what you saw of him while he was inside, mingling with other humans.

“You should loosen your shoulders more when you smile, like that." Under his hat, you see his eyebrows raise up in slight surprise. Surprise isn't enough, you decide, and add, "If you want to convince people."

You hope those words leave him a bit cold, a bit cruel that he doesn’t come seeking after you anytime soon, feeling the scramble of thoughts threatening to pool into your ears through the plugs. It’s all noise to you. You step inside once more‒ feeling a little less sick, a little less raw to be able to orchestrate again.

Trey finds your handwriting as pretty as you were in the noise of the room, inspecting all the curls and loops of each word. It takes him a moment before he notices what you left behind.

“They forgot their prize…”

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

The next time you meet him is during band practice. Or, more precisely, hear him would be a better descriptor.

"Have you seen (Name)?"

The thick walls of the storage room muffles his voice, but you still hear it loud and clear as you lean against the door, cello in hand.

"I just saw them a minute ago. I think they went to run a few errands or something since the school festival is soon." Carter replies.

"Ah it seems like I'm on a wild goose chase. I'm starting to wonder if such a person even exists…"

“They’re everywhere and nowhere all the time.” Carter chuckles. "I didn't even know you two were like that."

"Hm. I guess. We only really talked once." He hums.

"But I'd like to get to know them better ."

The sharp inhale you suck in makes an audible sound when you hear those words brush the back of your neck. You press the palm of your hands flat against your ears in panic to prevent any sound‒ voices, noise, the world‒ all of it, from entering your mind.

Quiet, quiet, quiet, quiet‒

You time his steps, the pleasantries he's likely throwing at the rest of the members, the time it takes for him to get far from your radius of power. Slowly, you release your hands from your head, and take a few moments to gather yourself before exiting the room.

Carter is the first to notice you. "Eh? (Name)? Since when were you there?"

"Since 10 minutes ago, dear. I told you we were going to take a break from group practice today and do individual practice today didn't I? We've been rehearsing so much for the festival I figured we could take a break for today."

"Really?? How did I miss this? I totally just sent Trey to the wrong place."

Lilia continues to tune his bass. "You were on your phone when (Name) briefed us on the schedule 3 weeks ago, Carter."

"I wanted to do a group rehearsal today! I feel like I finally got the hang of the last couple measures this time!" Kalim interjects.

"Don't pout, my dear president." The hand you place on his head is as gentle as ever. "You can practice without a vocalist for today, can't you? I have a lot to catch up on the Monstero Lounge gig I have coming up."

You bid your fellow members goodbye, dragging the instrument all the way to one of the empty classrooms.

Finally, a moment of peace.

You shuffle through your folder, fishing out the piece you had picked to play for a talent night that Azul had insisted you come and play at, excitedly chattering about how it was going to be brilliant for business.

Chopin's Cello Sonata in G Minor, Largo .

The cello sonata was one of the composer's last pieces. It was spectacular to you. A final, dazzling eruption before dwindling to the mere echoes of what had once been there‒ a fantastical piece with a pressure combed through every measure that would well an incomprehensible rawness that began at your chest, and would weave through the fibers of your throat that clenched in its emptiness.

But perhaps it was not so incomprehensible‒ humans in your life had been much the same. The ones you held dearly would rupture from this world, leaving you empty, aching with the sharpened, receding fragments.

When you slip off your gloves to press your bare fingers against the strings, you try not to let this thought consume you.

"But I'd like to get to know them better."

Bitterly, it seeps.

You know it's wrong‒ the piece is supposed to be for a simple, ten minute performance‒ a monotonous activity of human affairs that you would be pleased to check hastily off the list with a presentable smile and lightness. However, the decades you have lived until this day weigh upon you at once, spinning your hands in such a way that threads your grief heavily into the mellow air. The murky rust of the setting sun swells with the florid volume of your own misery, and the silence of the world that ripostes it.

The song falls softly, a slow stroke that gradually quiets until there is nothing. A diminuendo‒ to shatter, to finish. There's a small comfort, that unlike living things, the scores that stood on the iron music stand could be revived time after time, on trembling strings and resin scented maple. But, not much.

The flesh at the back of your eyelids are sparked with purple and blue stars as you squeeze your eyes shut, head leaning against the body of the cello to steady your breaths. It may have been the dizziness steadily climbing from the ache of your empty stomach to your head, but you felt like you were swaying in that concoction of color and bursting light.

"Don’t you want to be loved by god?”

You're afraid that if you open your eyes, the world may still be there. The noise, it will still exist, and reel you in‒ tangling you among its grotesque allure until the moment you reach towards it. Then, it will furl inwards, somewhere far from where you could detect it. The air feels sharp in your lungs‒ you feel like if you take too much in, you’d burst. The bow splinters in your hand, drawing blood.

"Pretty ."

A voice strikes through your bleakness, a gentle, but clear sound.

Trey stands at the center of your view. His face holds a glossy look for a moment, before he shakes his head and apologizes.

"Sorry‒ I just‒ I just heard you in the hallway, I thought you sounded really…" He laughs, shifting his gaze to the side. " Pretty ."

You look down at your instrument, and notice your bare hands, you remember you don't have your sunglasses on either. The cello echoes when you lean it against the desk, turn away from him to slip on your gloves and glasses.

You clear your throat, feeling each word stumble in staccato breaths. "Ah. Well. Um. Thank you. It's all, rather, very wrong though."

"Wrong? But it was incredible."

"Pretty."

The thoughts that enter his mind that churn into yours are ignored best you can before you swivel, veiling yourself in your disguise once more. "Perhaps wrong is not the best term. It's not tasteful for the audience, I suppose. There was no control."

"Control?" He parrots.

"Yes, you know." You wave your hand in flutter movements. "If someone like me performed like I just did‒ ha! I’d become the laughing stock of the entire school. " You clasp your hands together. "Now, darling. I must get going. Did you want to marvel at my music some more, or is there anything else you needed?"

You work quickly to gather your things, expecting Trey to leave after you've dismissed him. But when you drag your cello case around to leave, you see him still standing in the doorway, leaping towards your hand that rests on the cello case.

"Can I help you? It seems heavy."

"I'm alright. I've dragged this thing around this school, I am perfectly capable‒" When you go to lift the full weight of the instrument however, a dizziness digs into your temples, nausea quickly following suit.

"Oh‒ are you alright? Are you not feeling well? Let me at least help you with your instrument back to your dorm."

You stare at him, feeling your power rise within you, waiting for his thoughts to flood through your system‒ a confirmation to your suspicions you filter every person through, to pick them apart.

“You’re hurt.” He goes to examine your hand, you pull back.

"They don't look so well. Maybe they need something to eat? I should whip them up something after I help them carry this back to their dorm. Hm. Yeah. That sounds good. Something hearty."

Those words are inspected with great skepticism in your mind before the dizziness takes over, muddling your brain to a jumbled mess. Whatever, you think. He seems harmless enough.

“Fine” As soon as that curt response slips from your lips, you cringe internally. You clear your throat, attempting to redeem yourself. “I’ll take up your offer if that's alright with you. Pretty boy .”

He seems to hold the air in his throat when you give him that name, before he releases it in a puff of laughter. "Pft. Alright, yeah. Let's get you back to your room before you spout any more nonsense."

"Me?"

You're a bit taken back from his internal response. But you trail behind him, the weight of the nausea lifting slightly off your steps.

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

"What kind of cocoa powder did you use?"

"I think…just the regular brand stuff."

"Use Dutch processed next time. If you activate it correctly, the alkalizing process gives the batter a richer color and flavor."

He had somehow used his devilish charm to string you into this, you tell yourself, sipping on the tea you brewed for the both of you. But it would be rude to kick him out of your quarters without a proper thanks. You're no longer human, but you'd at least act civilized.

The tea has run a bit cold from the two whole hours he's managed to rope you into a conversation on baking techniques‒ slipping out the same notepad and pen he pulled out that night you met, and a box of various pastries and baked goods that he seemingly prepared out of nowhere. Truthfully, you weren't supposed to eat human food without proper sustenance from blood‒ however the look he gave you had absolutely pleaded that you do. So, how could you refuse?

You clear your throat to break through your endless flood of doubts and excuses. "I heard you were looking for me during band practice. Now that you've wormed your way into my life by bribing me with sweets‒ what did you want from me?"

"Oh!" He pulls another, smaller box from the bag you saw him rummaging through for the sweets laid out before the two of you. "Ah‒ I forgot about this. It might be a bit melted since there's ermine cream on the top."

The simple white box is opened, revealing a similar cupcake that you (purposefully) forgot the night you met him.

"It's not the same thing‒ it might be better actually‒ I used buttercream last time but it's pretty heavy so I substituted with ermine cream this time." He remains composed but you can tell something is bubbling below it. "Tell me what you think."

" I'm so excited to see what they think…I worked hard on this recipe since it seems it wasn't up to their tastes last time."

You make a face when you hear his thoughts, wondering how absolutely normal someone can be. “You mean to say you came all the way here to deliver me…this cup cake?”

"Yes I mean‒ I don't mean to pressure you into eating it, obviously." His eyebrows bunch upwards in his usual sorry expression. "I just. Wanted to hear your thoughts. Since I haven't met someone this knowledgeable on baking techniques at this school."

People usually had ulterior motives when approaching others with gifts, kindness, words slathered in polite niceties and compliments. You eye him suspiciously as he calmly sips his tea, scribbling away in his little notepad.

Drawing a little closer to him, you lean against the table, feeling the heat of your crimson eyes when you concentrate your magic to wade through the noise‒ pulling the thread of his thoughts from it all. It requires a bit of power through your ear plugs and rising nausea, but you manage to unravel it.

" I'd really like to get to know them better. Friends, maybe . Cater says I should get out there more, this is what he meant, right? "

It was impossible to ignore the truth of the matter‒ that the person sitting in front of you is so absolutely unbearably bare, plain. You'd thought you'd seen clarity before, in how salient the cruelty of people was, but you had been wrong. No doubt this was true clarity‒ the candor of normal, mundane life that you normally blocked out with the rest of the noise of the world. The tonic of human lives rarely interested you, but it seemed like all this person was, and it seeped deeply into his treatment of you. Normal, bare, plain.

Human .

It was so baffling you could not suppress the smile that spread on your lips.

Ah, maybe just for today, you think. Just this one conversation. Just one moment, and I'll forget the taste of human life again.

"Hm, alright. Just this once, pretty boy ."

The sugary cream melts instantly in your tongue, and the airy sponge is sweet when you swallow your determination to forget this honey sweetness he brings. A hint of vanilla, cinnamon, sugar, spice, and everything nice. You let it settle deep in the dark of your belly, feeling the warmth still lacing through your blood from the tea you've sipped with him slowly cool under your flesh. You devour it all, with his words and smile, hiding it deep inside so you can’t remember its sweetness.

But the honey you've added at his request still runs golden sweet on your tongue. You roll it through your mouth, trying to extinguish the taste, but it spreads further, coating your throat as you swallow it. Unlike the contents of the cupcake, it runs raw against your flesh, and you must wait until it seeps deeply into the fibers of your throat before it dissolves.

The hours pass as you talk with him, but the sweetness does not fade.

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

"You alright?"

The silvery tone of your voice breaks through Trey's thoughts. He had been lagging behind the Heartstlabyul group to take a break from all of the frenzy of today. The responsibility, the pressure. You'd been with them a moment ago, mingling as you always did, but now you've slowed your footsteps to match the slight drag of his own‒ something he's sure you've noticed. Heat tingles at his cheeks‒ he doesn't know whether it's from the way you've broken his image so swiftly with your keen eyes, or if it's from, simply, your thoughtfulness. For him, of all people. For him.

"Yeah, fine. Just tired. Today has been such a long day with these underclassmen."

His laughter rings clearly, even though the obstruction of your ear. With each note emanated from his lips, you feel it slipping through the cracks of the foundation of your feeble resolve, crumbling so endearingly that you smile sincerely when he speaks. It had been disgust, revolt at first, feeling the distance between your world and his inching closer and closer‒ but before you could notice the absence of nausea stinging through your chest and stomach, you felt the feather-lightness of your own smile chiming with his own, completely eclipsing the discomfort you had felt previously in the proximity to other lives. To him.

"You need to relax more. Stop fussing over these no good children." You massage his shoulders in a playful manner.

He feigns pain then quirks that smile on his face‒ you know the one, the one where he bunches his eyebrows and laughs with the back of his throat. In that moment, you're as confident as ever, charging him with laughter‒ letting your inhibitions lose. Control didn’t matter, for a moment. The world doesn’t seem so sharp at that moment, like you were going to tip over the edge.

When the pads of his fingers brush against your fingers, all that sense you had withers so easily in your chest. Through his shoulders, you can feel the vibration of the hum he emits in agreement, a musical accompaniment to the warmth that radiates from his hands.

"Maybe. They're good kids. You're right‒ maybe I do need to relax." You retract your hands from him, allowing him to toss his head over his shoulder. "Any tips?"

The seconds you weigh out whether to lie or not seem to shorten with every moment you spend with him. "I guess…music. I like to sing some of the warm-up pieces I used to know.”

"Warm up for what?"

"Ah for the…church choir."

Liar .

He makes a face, an airy laugh escapes your nose. "What?" You ask.

"...you just don’t look like a religious person.”

You look down at your feet, a slight smile as a comfort to him. “I haven’t been in a while. I don’t think I’ve had faith in anything in a long time.” A quiet lull in your words.

Your stomach turns. It's always a look of pity, or some casted look that drags you as some pathetic creature, cold and inhuman. The words die in your throat, you quiet your breaths, feeling then stick to the prickly flesh of your lungs and throat.

“I get it.”

But the look Trey gives you as he digests your words is a sadness as sincere and clear as water. It was not such a clawing, dried look that transformed you into something you didn't want to be. Instead, he swallows your words whole, as they were, his gaze reaching far beyond the pain. His sound‒ clear as a summer's day, dotted prettily with the honey lemon droplets of his gaze‒ finds you.

“I got you.”

A tranquil, silvery symphony‒ each sweetened thread weaving itself magnificent, deep within your nerves. It takes everything to pull yourself from it.

"Now, I have the perfect blend of tea for you then, darling. It goes wonderfully with those lemon shortbread cookies you made yesterday‒ absolutely divine."

Quick to shake the feeling off, you mask the dread of warmth with your usual stupid passion and fire that carves an expression of slight surprise into Trey's face, just for a moment. But it surprised you, instead, to see that it dissolved completely, and replaced with an elated burst of laughter. It takes him a moment to gather himself, and many more for you to do the same with the words he says.

"You're actually a really good person, (Name)."

The feeling returns, swiftly.

You don’t want to breach into the borders of his mind, but you found yourself reaching for the silvery thread of his sound from the noise, picking apart the gray mess of things to find that glimmering thing. Your mind had learned the scent, the exact hue and melody of his inner voice to be able to pluck it so naturally from everything else, and you were growing fearful that you had committed yet another thing to memory that would eventually be lost to time. But the words that you hear from him‒ you think it will consume you for the rest of your eternity.

"God. You're wonderful."

It nearly chokes you to hear such clarity in that declaration. Foolish . You think. Only a fool would say such a thing. You fix the shades slipping down your face, turning your energy to block out any sound and voice.

"You flatter me, my dearest."

Lucid, pure. His voice. His laughter. It wasn't just noise to you anymore. You think of what chord his voice would be, how it would sing against your fingers on your cello. Or perhaps a heavenly instrument would be more befitting.

"But you've got me all wrong."

You smile. Perhaps you were the fool.

A few weeks later, he admits: "Truthfully, I tried to avoid you best I could before we officially met. Because of your blase attitude and the rumors about you‒ I thought I wouldn't mesh well with people like you."

"Is that so?" A wolfish smile curves onto your lips, eyes turning crescent. You fiddle with the flier for the monstero lounge show coming up, debating whether or not you should have really accepted Azul’s request. "It seems most people think I'm that way."

"Yeah. But I'd like to think you opened up to me a bit, and I discovered something about you that made me want to talk to you. You're real strange, you know that?"

"Oh, I'm the weirdo? I'm not the one whose hobby is brushing their teeth."

"Dental health is important." He states matter-of-factly, before his hardened look is broken with a breathy laughter. "But really. I would have liked to be friends earlier in my life if I had just known you were the way you actually are."

You remember his words, turning your eyes downwards. "I'd really like to get to know them better."

Hesitation curdles in your mind, but the words come instantaneous, eager to his statement. "Which is?" Perhaps too eager, you shrink.

He hums, thinks for a minute. "Just‒ kind ." He says. "I never noticed before, but you're always making sure people are included, checking on people. It's like a sixth sense‒ you can easily pick up what people are thinking, but also feeling. Like a guardian angel or sorts."

You stare at him with a blank look, a breath in your lungs that doesn't make it past your parted lips. Then, gaze downwards, again.

"I wish more people would know how much good you have."

It takes great effort not letting his words sink deeply into your heart, constricting it. Sometimes, when you replay the scene in your head at night‒ an inevitable occurrence when he's on your mind‒ you try your hardest not to let it well something inside you so floridly that it bleeds heavily in your chest, and sprouts the salt in your eyes. But, it does. Idiot , you think, if only you knew what I really was.

You make a noise, unclear yourself as to your response to his statement, crushing the flier in your hand. Attempting to redeem yourself, you casually begin rolling the balled up paper in your hands, giving Trey an exasperated expression.

“What’s that?” He points to the paper.

“Oh‒ nothing. An Azul thing. Or a Monstero Lounge thing. Whatever, I’m probably going to bail on it anyways.”

“An Azul thing?” The hint of disappointment in his tone confuses you. “Oh! the Monstero Lounge show that’s coming up? I’ve been looking forward to it‒ you’re bailing? Don’t let Carter hear you say that‒ he’s been talking about wanting to be in it for weeks.”

A smile quirks on your face. “Has he now?”

Trey nods. “Why are you bailing? I thought you had a real passion for playing?”

“Performance is another matter. You know, the difference between baking for yourself, and baking for other people.” Trey nods in understanding. “Besides, what makes you say that?” You make a face which fails to fully contain the disgust towards yourself. Passion. It curdles on your tongue.

“How do I put it…You…” He pauses, thinking. In a moment, his words flood forth. “Your expression seems heavier when you’re playing. But, maybe a good kind of heavy. You always seem light and bubbly, but now that I think about it, you never talk about yourself.”

“I don’t.” You confirm, a sweet smile.

“You don’t.” An averted gaze. “I never asked.”

“How unusual of you‒ mother of Heartslabyul.”

“So,” His gaze pulls you in. “What’s your favorite color?”

You take a moment to reply, a bit surprised that he would actually follow through with his words. You’re reminded of the reason why you were so taken with him in the beginning‒ despite his sheepish deflection of compliments, despite the playful smirk that curved on his face‒ his words always matched his actions, his gaze, his expression.

“Yellow. A lemony, summery yellow. Reminds me of the flowers my sister used to grow.”

“You just have one sister?”

“One and only. My older sister.”

“I’m envious. I’ve always wondered what it was like being the younger sibling.”

You chuckle, searching the vast landscape of memories stored inside you. “You know‒ teasing, fighting, hand-me-down clothes, the like. But I love her, especially when she makes her brioche bread.”

“You’re close with her?”

Time, space‒ the difference between you and the world, him. It comes in waves as always, flooding you, and your hands which search for distant memories. You’re not sure if it was his ignorance towards your nature, or plainly his presence that seemed to pull your discorporated humanity closer to you once more.

“Very. She’s my rock. She was the first to encourage me to pursue music.”

“Do you play other instruments?”

“Of course. Cello, piano, guitar, accordion, harp, violin, flute…” You trail on.

The conversation goes on, until the two of you notice you’ve been walking around the campus, completely separated from the others. You laugh about it.

When you separate, you watch him walk across the hills, his form roaring against the sunset. There’s a twinge in your stomach, which you swallow with great effort. The distance between you and him seemed like it didn’t matter for the vivid moments you spent conversing with him‒ but now with his back towards you, as he headed towards the light‒ the feeling wades back. You search through the flood as you always do, but you cloud your own vision when you look back to the things you said, the faces you made, the memories you shared. Blackened, like yourself. The sun hisses against your skin. At times like this, you’re reminded of your stunted development‒ you had forgotten what the sun does to creatures of the night.

It scorches your retinas as you look at the heart of the sun, but you let it‒ reminded of the sweetness of his honey lemon eyes.

Bitterly, it seeps.

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

Every time Trey stands by your door, for some reason, his nerves rise to the surface, tingling at his feet and the hand that raps at wood. He doesn't understand why his body gets this fussy every time‒ he's seen you a dozen times before. That crooked, fanged smile; the delightful way your hands move in conversation, the charming little way you hum when pouring him tea (2 sugars, a touch of cinnamon, just the way he likes it)‒ these are all things he's almost gotten used to that he doesn't feel near faint when you grace him with such pleasures.

" Pretty boy ."

He remembers the nickname you call him, along the standard " darling "s and " my dear "s you seem to call everyone else. Just for him, you've fashioned something that can instantly unravel him, much like now, as he waits in front of your door with fresh pastries. He feels special when you call him that‒ but it feels good, unlike the times he tries to undermine himself under a barrage of flattening statements that stomp out every potential for expectations . Like he could make a difference, a change in anyone or anything. He’s just a normal guy. Nothing more. Riddle was a vivid reminder of that.

Except when he’s with you‒ it feels extraordinary.

The millions of things that seem to arise out of conversation‒ the sheer possibility of what wonderful things he can share with you beats like thunder in his chest, reaching the tips of his ears where they flush. That fullness he felt before returns‒ the only way to alleviate it it seems is to converse and spend time with you. He hopes the redness at least dies down when he's around you, all his senses seem to fly out the window when you're by his side.

We're just studying together. That's all. He tells himself.

He secretly holds his breath when you open the door with the creak‒ but he releases it when his lips part in surprise at your state.

"O-oh. Hello, Trey." Rather than your usual, slurry, elegant demeanor, your voice scrapes against your throat‒ the sound coming small and frail, something Trey had never associated with you before. Elegant, honey-like, and sure of yourself‒ it was never like this. Diminuendo , he remembers from you, and his favorite piece that you play. Like you'd depart from him, where he could not follow.

You fix your glasses, feeling them slipping on your nose, before you run your hand through your knotted hair. The cigarette wedged between your fingers weaves smoke between the two of you, mixing with the smell of alcohol on your breath. "I'm afraid something came up, darling. I have to cancel today, I'm sorry I didn't ring you in advance." You go to close the very small gap you've allowed yourself to open‒ Trey stops you before you can. The bold move surprises even himself.

"...You're sick? In that case I could‒"

" D-don't touch me." A crackle in your voice, fear striking your expression. "A-apologies. No. It's fine. You musnt do anything for me."

"But I want to?"

The prickly air that had been kindling on the inside of your lungs flares all at once at that moment, puncturing something inside.

"You don't know what you want." You spit.

" Oh‒ what?"

"I said you don't know what you want. But allow me to make it easier for you. You don't want this. So go away‒ get out of my sight ."

Hellfire. It stains you.

"I‒" He swallows the lump in his throat. "I-I don't understand?"

"I said . Get away from me, Trey ." His name comes cold on your tongue. He feels it coil around his spine.

What are you saying?

"But‒"

You launch the door open, almost breaking it off the hinges. The crimson of your eyes glow in your power as you bare your fangs, clawing the wood of the door with your sheer grip. A lurching feeling wells inside you, as you grow in size, in power, in sharpness. All the qualities that separate you, from him.

"I SAID GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME."

You don't recognize your voice. Trey's feet crumble from underneath him as you tower over his form. With the fear that seeps into his eyes, you decide it's enough, and shut the door with a slam.

You swallow the breaths that come faster than you can handle, looking down at the chips of wood that embed into your nails and fingers, beginning to bleed. You lean on your table, raising one hand to grasp at the root of your hair, catching a glimpse of the crimson glow that emanates off your eyes. The hair that falls in front of your face cages you in that bloody vision‒ red, and violent.

This is what you are, it's what you've always been and always will be. A monster . Fanged, clawed, hideous‒ thick, violent strokes of inky black on one of those books the priest used to carry around with him. Swirling into a void so corroded of color‒ the truest black‒ immortalizing your revolting form, permanently baring your fangs, carrying hellfire in your eyes and throat that you’d swing senseless with an animal violence. Fixed in that abstracted abyss, forever‒ eternal as you are. How pitiful that you choke on your own sorrow.

You fall into a rage, your body dragging itself by the spine‒ swinging your hands and legs throughout the room. A sound tears from your throat, far from a human cry. Music scores from missed practices fly, used plates and cups tumble to the ground, chipping. Your ashtray falls heavy on the grand piano that sits at the center of your room, slamming down the heavy lid, reverberating the strings, hammering into the air a chaotic symphony of ash and disorder.

For a moment you think to pick everything up, tidy yourself up and make amends with Trey‒ but you know the drill by now. In a week, you'd come to terms with yourself again‒ all the things you make and destroy‒ and sever yourself from this place, and its people. In just seven days you'd swallow the bitterness of your own self as you always had, clean your mess, throw the pieces you'd broken away. It ends all the same.

Before you know it, you have a half empty bottle in hand, the days old wine weighing heavily in your palm. You twist your body furiously in attempt to rupture the surfaces of rage you have rising like fire inside of you, to at least reach to the gnawing feeling inside your chest. But it grows even restless, even hungrier‒ eating away at the breath in your lungs and the beat of your heart when you come face to face with your reflection. Nothing.

What sort of monster doesn't have a face?

You couldn't have even be given that, to be remembered and touched‒ even if it was fear and abhorrence‒ to exist as a creature who is seen, and heard on their own. You were merely an image created by others.

Control‒ you never had any of it, ever since your mouth was held open by its hinges and forced to down that creature's blood. It was laughable to even call yourself a musician, a conductor, a person. There was not a moment in your life where you had genuinely orchestrated the fullness of musicality, or anything. When you plucked on the strings of your cello‒ it was always just that. Noise. There was nothing inside of you that could transfigure that dead noise from the strings into something meaningful, something that could exist in the realm of adoration. Loved .

Don't you want to be loved?

How could you be? You're just‒ this .

Crumbling to the ground, you sob, remembering the fear laid plain on Trey's face.

Surely‒ he’s gone. If you had ever held him in that way, at least. Arm’s length, prickled air‒ you had been weaving this inevitable goodbye yourself. Regret curdles heavily in your stomach as you bring your knees to your face on the floor.

I was doing so good. I was good again‒ I am good. You clench your jaw, imagining those portraits of violence from the Supreme Leader’s book. A realization‒ fuck . Nausea rises to your throat.

You want to sleep. Or drink. Or smoke. Something to sedate you out of this emptiness clawing itself all over your insides.

A knock startles you out of your daze. You assume the door is broken by the sound of the rusty hinges creaking open, the light of the hallway pouring behind you. A silhouette‒ but you don’t want to be found, or seen. You stay quiet, hoping he just leaves. Forever, maybe.

“(Name)?”

His footsteps creak against the floorboards, inching closer and closer. You wish you had the energy to tell him to leave again. Instead, you bury your face in your hands.

You hear him shuffle a bit, close to you on the floor.

His breath tickles the hairs on your arm, his voice reaching far into your head, the vibration from his throat rippling to your empty chest. “I’m not leaving.”

With some kind of divine courage, you speak. “Why won’t you?”

He shuffles closer, lacing his fingers through your tangled hair. “Because it seems I like you too much.”

“You’re a fool.”

You were the fool.

“Birds of a feather flock together.” He says, matter of factly. “Because you’re an idiot if you think I’m just going to leave you here. You…”

You feel him swallow, pausing his hands to hold your head at the crook of your neck. “You’re special to me.”

“I’ve got you.”

It feels like you're being enveloped completely by him‒ his smell, his sound. It smells faintly of candied violet, vanilla, and your honey lemon blend of tea. Trey thinks it complements well with your smell. Old books, and well-read letters tucked preciously into cookie tins. Faintly, iron.

In a shaky voice, you apologize. Over and over. "I-im so sorry.There's something wrong with me." He rubs your shoulder, measuring his movements carefully so as not to overwhelm you. "I'm sorry I'm this way. I-I didn't mean to yell. I didn't mean to send you away. I want you here. I-I'm sorry. I lied. I’m a liar.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s okay. We all have our things‒ we’re human, right?”

You cry harder. "No, you don't understand."

"Are you fae?" He asks, looking at your pointed ears and teeth he'd seen in the students in Diasmonia. "There's nothing wrong with that. You're still‒"

Wonderful .

He chooses his words with care in your state. “- my friend.”

You swallow the bitter taste in your mouth. "N-no. I'm nothing of the sort. I-I…" Everything is so unbearable‒ you're unbearable . Your fangs pierce into your lips when you bite down, suppressing the wailing pressure that threatens to leak from deep inside your throat. It burns all the way down when you swallow it, only leaving you with a portion of your dwindling volume.

" I'm a monster ." You spit, looking directly into Trey's eyes‒ like you did moments before‒ hellfire stirring within them. The palms of your hands face him, framed with the sharpened claws of your hands that spot with blood from the splitters still embedded within them. Slowly, you furl them onto yourself, drawing red upon your palms when they ball into fists. "A vampire‒ like the ones you know from books and stories. That's me ."

That is all I am.

Your vision blurs, and you tuck your limbs into yourself as if you brace for impact.

Instead, softness‒ honey lemon eyes, sweetness, golden.

"You're hurt."

You make a sound through your sobs when he takes your hands. Impossibly soft, feathery under your own, he picks the sharpness out of them. The blood is wiped away with his handkerchief, staining the light clover green fabric with blots of red. Now it's dirty , you think. I’ve poisoned it.

"You're not a monster." He says, unfurling your hand further, prying apart your sharpened fingers from your palm. They twitch at his words.

"I tried to hurt you‒ send you away.” You feel like your throat is going to collapse.

He’s quiet for a moment, you can see him roll his saliva through his mouth, and the doubt and anxiety which passes across the movements of his downwards eyes. A barbed look‒ you feel it prickle familiarly against yourself‒ so you ever so slightly inch your pinky towards his hand that rests near your own, making a small gesture with your pinky to intertwine it with his‒ I’ve got you .

A heavy breath pushes past his lips. “People do that all the time. I get it‒ I mean‒ I know how it feels to be anticipating the color and tone of people’s faces. I grew up doing the same. From a certain point‒ you can kind of sense when people begin to tear themselves away from you‒ like you thought they would do eventually‒ it’s kind of a relief, isn’t it? To confirm that the distance you were placing between people at least did something .”

You nod, giving him a small quirk on the lips to agree. He continues. “I’m really just a normal guy‒ you know? I don’t really have the power to change things, or have an effect on people. Like you do.”

“Me?”

He hums, rounding his expression with a small curve on his lips. “You light up the room. You charge everyone with a certain energy. A je ne sais quoi .” He jokes‒ you laugh. “It’s probably a lot of pressure, a lot of fear. But you face it. I like that about you.”

“ I’m not like you .” You hear from him. You want to remind him‒ you're a fool.

“You-” You gulp. “You do that for me too. You light up my day. But‒ I don’t know. I feel bad feeling these things. It’s like I can’t wait, you know?”

Trey scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. “Can’t wait for what?”

“I can’t wait. For the moment you‒ or people‒ leave, like you said. I’m always anticipating it. I digest people inside of me‒ pick them apart. I’m really not a good person. Sometimes there’s just something inside of me that switches when I’m faced with anything pointing to people confirming my suspicions‒ like I’m always tipping off the edge. I don’t know‒ people are…” A baited breath. “Bad. And I’m something a lot worse.”

Trey takes your hand again, drawing circles with his thumb.

“I don’t know who I am. I have no reflection, no substance, no form‒ nothing . All I know is that I’ve been emptied to carry this filth that terrorizes me‒ and whenever I lash out at it, I end up hurting other people.” The afternoon light that weaves in between the curtains illuminates a streak of dust and smoke in the room. “My story ends all the same. Like any good fabled monster.”

“What if this time it ends differently?”

A weary smile wobbles onto your lips. “That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” You stand, dust yourself off, and offer a hand to him. He accepts.

“It will.” His assertiveness almost surprises himself, but he reminds himself why‒ it’s you .

“Why‒ aren’t you certain?” Bitterness seeps your tongue.

“You’re the reason for it. You’re all that.”

There’s a feeling that wells inside you that replaces the tension that slips from your shoulders‒ something a tinge sour, sweet, and warm. You don’t search for the underlying tones and clandestine beats of his words. Clear as day‒ you accept this feeling. Hesitantly, you lean against him, soaking with the feeling that seems to also radiate from him.

“You’ll stay today?”

Trey feels you relax against him.

“For as long as you'll have me.”

He doesn’t let you go.

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

"I've never seen snow before I came here." You watch the soft speckles of white float gently down from the skies. "I'll never get tired of this scene."

Trey slows his pace a bit, so you can linger on the white landscape. "Really? Not even in the Queendom of Roses?"

You nod. "The island I lived on before I was exiled was exceptionally warm. I wasn’t allowed‒ ”

Quickly, you shift your words. Control.

“-I wasn’t much of an outside kid, on account of the whole sun thing before potions could handle it. And after I had left I hopped from one island to another‒ most of them were too warm to have snowy weather. And when I visited the main island it was always during the warmer seasons.”

You remember the supreme suggesting warm climates‒ quiet, sunny peaks in the outlands, away from people. Those suggestions grew on you with time. You liked warmer climates anyways, . The room you had at the temple had always been cold and damp, the only light that would peek through snuck in through the stone that had eroded over years of negligence. You shiver.

"I don't like the cold, too much. But the snow is beautiful."

You suddenly feel wool, warmth on your neck. Trey fixes his scarf on you, you almost jump away, but after the initial moment of surprise, you relax into his scent that has melted into the wool. Lavender . He always smells like sweet floral, you note. It reminds you of the patches of grass and wildflower that would sprout sparingly in the parts of your room where the sun would kiss‒ the dew that would form on them like opals would be sweet like the fragments of light that wove in soft petals on the hard stone flooring. When you touched that light refracting in honeyed rays in those small drops of water the morning chill brought, you could remember a fraction of your humanity. Summer like a warm blanket and the crickets that chirped outside while you and your sister sat beside the window sill, giggling at the lantern light. The verdant coolness that swept the bakery while you helped your papa prepare the bread rolls for proofing. Silly, small things. It could make you cry, even now, as Trey diligently wraps the scarf around your neck.

“...You were exiled?” He chooses his tone, his words very carefully, softness like velvet honey.

You smile, a shape meant to comfort him. “I was. My hometown was very poor. People needed something to believe in, and they already had their hero.” Supreme leader, in his gilded cloak. "You're going to catch a cold‒ and this scarf‒ it's from your siblings, is it not? I feel bad, you shouldn't give stuff so easily to people." Despite your words, dive your nose deeper into the yarn, threading your claws carefully within the chunky pattern.

"I’m warm enough‒ besides, you wear things like this well.” He finishes fussing with the scarf. The warmth that had welled into the wool from his skin melts into you like cotton candy‒ sweet and soft. “And you’re cold, aren’t you? If I catch a cold I’ll just have you take care of me.”

You press your cold fingers onto his bare neck to hide the rosy heat coloring your cheeks. With a shiver and a smile, he yells "Hey!" while laughing.

"Well I guess I have no choice then.”

A moment of silence after your laughter dies down‒ Trey hardens his expression. “You’re still shivering. The blood supplements haven’t helped?”

A sigh pushes through your nose. “Yeah. I guess. I don’t feel too keen on asking hospitals for donations either. I’ll be fine, pretty boy.” A curt smile curves onto your lips to reassure him.

Trey makes a face. “What if you get sick again?”

The smile you wear tightens. “I’ll be fine .”

“It’s worrying.”

“I don’t need it.”

The silence of the snowfall roars against your ears when he says‒ “What if you fed off of me?”

The dense crunch of your footsteps packing the snow stops as your chest rises and falls with a thickened rhythm.

“Don’t joke about such things.”

“I wasn’t.”

"Then don’t say stuff like that. I said I don’t need it."

"But you do! Look at you! You're emaciated‒ a few days ago you were barely standing!"

"That's‒"

"It’s not healthy, you know. You need blood to survive."

“It’s scary to see you like that.”

You’re genuinely taken back from his internal voice, a slight treble which rings against your ears. “I don’t understand. Why would you be scared?”

His answer is instantaneous, exasperated. “Because you’re my friend.”

You bite the words climbing your throat. As much as it pained you to see Trey like this, you could not swallow that thought threatening to simmer through your lips, a burning notion that had engraved itself into every piece of yourself.

I don't need you I don't need you I don't need you I don't need you I don't need I don't need‒

"Why won't you accept this offer? Accept me?" It chokes you to hear him like this‒ but the familiar nausea that seizes your throat overpowers it.

Because I could never make up for it. Make up for it being me that you choose.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“ Fuck‒ yes I will!” You hiss. Quieter, you muster. “I don’t want to hurt you. But I will. I’m made that way.”

His silence drives a hot coal down your throat‒ prompting you to push down that blackness that gnaws at you.

“Sorry‒ I‒” A release in the tension of your shoulders. “I apologize. I was just…overwhelmed. It’s a serious proposition‒ you really shouldn’t take it so lightly. I haven’t interacted so much with my own kind but from what I heard, it would be almost a lifelong commitment. At least for you that is. When you die, I will..." You attempt to swallow the tightness in your throat- a hunger. "I will not forgive myself."

“I’m sorry‒ I didn’t mean to overwhelm you. We should talk about it more‒ alright?” He rubs circles with his thumb across your skin, and you feel the ridges of his fingers drawing shapes. “But if it’s regret you worry about‒ know that I would never regret spending my life with you. At any capacity.”

There were stories you heard of centuries after you were reborn as a vampire about beautiful things spun by poets and artists. To reach to the monster‒ approaching it with gentle softness rather than stakes and silver. Risking sharpened teeth with lethal maws, defying the hardwired fear and repulsion against something that has tremendous capacity for violence. Saintly, divine touch. You had deemed it one of the most beautiful things‒ sublime, and completely unfathomable to you.

But when Trey reaches to you in that moment‒ in your moments‒ you think‒ this is what it is. This is what it must feel like to be touched by something beautiful. This is what it must feel like to be touched by god. You almost understand the Supreme Leader, in a way. You understand faith ‒ it’s a terrible thing.

He cools the tindering hellfire in yourself with his touch. It burns as a searing stake through your chest.

He doesn’t let go as you walk through the ashen landscape.

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

He makes you promise you’ll talk about it. And you do‒ hesitantly accepting his proposition with a box in hand.

“I think it’s a good time to give you this.”

The smell of oak flushes his nose when Trey draws closer to inspect the intricate honeysuckles that weave through the wood.

It’s an old, tattered thing‒ something given to you when you were young by your parents. The flowers were meant to be a gesture of nostalgia and deep affection‒ and you manage to remember the fragments of your mother’s many sayings‒ something about always been meant to be with you, how she felt a strange sense of reunification when she had bore you and your sister.

A bitter taste spreads on your tongue when you move the box towards Trey, and the contents inside clack against the wood. How furious she would be if she knew what you had done.

"What is it?"

“ Insurance .” you answer, quickly.

He gives you a confused look before taking the box into his hands, opening the rusted latch on it. You only hear the eroded hinges creak as he cracks open the chest, the speckles of rust falling onto the table.

You made sure there would be enough to pack the box‒ but it seems that there is still some air when they rattle against the walls of the box. Sharpened to perfection‒ you hope they won’t wear down too much from this motion.

After a minute, there’s the same sound again, then the closing of the box before it’s shoved towards you‒ back fully in your vision once more.

“I don’t need this.” Strained, his voice comes thickly between his constricting throat ‒ a similar feeling proceeding to his chest, flaring at the ends of his fingers which tuck tightly into his palms.

The face he makes worries you.

For him, of course, but for yourself as well. You're afraid you're going to break right then and there, throat etched in silent shame‒ but you pull yourself together with a sharp, willow breath sucked into your lungs. You feel the air settle cold on your tongue, and it almost shakes.

"It's just insurance ." You say, opening the box. A wooden stake is rolled across the table to him. He averts his eyes as if it burns him. "If the time ever comes‒"

"If it comes?" The voice pounding heavily at the back of his throat raised with his breaths. He parrots your words angrily. " If the time comes? Then what‒ I have to kill you? I have to be the one?"

"I would like it to be you, yes."

He gathered his eyebrows further into the center of his forehead. "Me?"

"Only you. It could only be."

You hear his shaky breath. No‒ you feel it press deeply into your bones, a vibration that makes its way from the tremble of his fingers, through the table, into your own flesh, far inside you that its precise throb stretches the growing cracks he's made in your resolve.

"I can't."

"You must ." You feel your claws scratching against the leather of your gloves. "To protect yourself."

He feels terribly selfish, childlike for the quiet volume of his voice. "From who?”

You feel the hungry thing inside of you flourish at your own words. “From me.”

He calls out to your name. “I don’t think I could ever be afraid of someone who is so afraid of themselves.”

You have no response to that.

An inhale‒ before he continues. “You’re the reason to the certainty in my words‒ that’s not really something I had before. Nothing feels normal with you‒ but it’s the good kind. You‒” despite the situation, he laughs, cracking the expression you love. “-you really don’t know what you do to me, do you?”

A sharp finger presses against your palm to confirm this is truly‒ really‒ actually real. You doubt yourself, telling yourself that you somehow tricked him into thinking you were this good. It must have been all those pet names‒ the saccharine composition that had somehow trapped him into your siren spell.

He faces you with all his sincerity‒ revealing the sharpened claws of your hands when he slips the leather off of them. He holds them softly, hoping if his words don’t reach you‒ at least this language that you had both curated against each other, might. You feel that it does, unable to find a trace of deceit, doubt, or anything besides the honey lemon hue that basks you in all its sweetness.

For the first time in centuries‒ you feel the blood inside you churn warmly in your cheeks, your eyes avoiding his gaze.

“I suppose I didn’t.”

So of course, when he first allows you access to his blood‒ the first action you do is to cover his eyes above all else. He makes a small noise when your cold fingers fall softly on his eyelids.

Without even thinking, he reaches towards your hand‒ he sees the crimson light that weaves through your hands that eclipse into pitch darkness when he lays his hand on top of yours. In the darkness, his voice seems louder when he calls out to you.

"Can you move your hand?"

The fibers of his neck tickle against your stiffened breath.

"Not yet."

He feels your teeth open his flesh, his skin parting like a ripened fruit. The curve of your soft lips that cup warmly around the wound, leaning deep into his scent‒ to dive further into the sweetness of his blood. He groans as a moment of pain passes, but his sound relaxes‒ slurry‒ in his throat when he feels sweet pleasure, thick as honey, feathering from where he feels you feeding. His breath quickens, and you feel the warmth of his exhales. As close as a lover’s breath.

He lets out a shameless sound of pleasure‒ a whisper you drink in with his sweet ambrosia.

"Ah, this isn't so bad."

He feels the fingers you keep firmly on top of his eyes twitch.

"Sorry. 'M sorry." You mumble against his skin. His senses feel so jumbled, flooding as thick and raw syrupy mountains. He blindly accepts them‒ unlike your words, which he makes sure to affirm should not be so. I am not sorry, he thinks. You do not have to be either . There’s a tremble in your lips when he slips those words into the air, humming sweetly against his skin.

He doesn't trust his voice, but the heaviness that clouds his mind barely filters his thoughts.

"A-are you done already?"

"Mhm. Sorry, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I just need a minute." His chest slowly rises and falls. He notices he's gripping your hand. "Can you move your hand now?"

"Let me see you. I want to see you."

"Just a moment." Even in the sensory deprivation, your voice feels particularly far off. "Not yet."

Trey closes his eyes, waiting for the tight pleasure that still prickles under his skin to pass. When he opens his eyes again, he finds your hand gone, the sun seeping through his fingers. You're facing away from him, sitting at the edge of the bed, bloody handkerchief in hand, unnervingly quiet.

"I'm sorry if I caused you any pain. I'll go get bandages and some pain killers for you."

You turn a bit towards him, but he doesn't see your face. He grabs your hand before you could walk away‒ calling your name.

A beat of silence. "Yes?"

"..."

It seems his senses have returned to him when he confirms the weight of your trembling hand‒ how it feels a fraction of a degree warmer than before.

"Why can't you look at me?"

" Why won’t you show me your face?

Your expression?

You?

Are you smiling? Are you mad?

Why can't you show me?

Am I‒ "

"No ." Your back gives out as you press all your force into that word, making the bed creak when you fall into it. "No. It's not you. It's not you. I just‒" A breath. "I don't want you to look at me. While I’m like this. It is a mercy. ”

Waves of scrambled noise crash through you. You want to squeeze your hands over your ears, shut your eyes until all you can feel is the vast darkness, and your fading form within it. You’d congeal with that void, rot until there is truly nothing left of anything you had‒ to to the dust as dead and far as the remains of your home.

"I don't want to just look at you. I want to see you."

You don't trust your voice, so you shake your head. When you swallow the lump lodged in your throat, it tangles in your shaky breath when you feel his hands wrap around yours.

"I want to see you." He repeats.

The noise parts with the lightness of his voice. Slowly, you turn towards him. Instantly, his hands are molded to the curve of your shape, as if they were forged by the decaying whispers of your labyrinth heart. In secret, they were cast by your hearth, and now they are cooled, and formed around the salt and tears that etch florid down your face. These hands are made for you, you think. Only the starlight has come this close to your monstrous form. Only the starlight.

"I'm sorry‒ I shouldn't be so‒ this right now. But I just can't‒ I'm so sorry." The apologies bubble from your trembling lips, as you try to form a coherent thought. But the softness of which he touches the cruel sharpness of your form‒ it wells a crescendo symphony of desire that you withheld, lurching upon you all at once.

He pulls you in, tighter.

This was home. You had always stood at the edge of it, drawing a line before the entrance to remind yourself‒ you had not been welcomed yet. But he had always welcomed you. It felt as if some speck of his soul had always done so, with the relief you feel when you step within it. The room inside your heart when you merge your warmth with his does not feel so full‒ nor so empty. It is filled with potential. Future. Something that had risen from him, infinitely.

"Don't‒" you place your fingers over your mouth. "Not while I taste like this."

He breaks your lips with his words. “Trust me?”

The warmth that folds over you feels like a prayer. Have faith . When you open your mouth, flesh is at your mercy, but you do not bite down as you expected the thirst inside you would have. Stars, the world stripped of its layers until it was only you, and him. For once infinity does not seem so much of a curse.

You must be intoxicated by the sweetness of his blood. Bittersweet‒ it seeps.

"I'm not…" You gulp down the swaying warmth. "I'm not supposed to like you."

"But…?" His smile curves so high the whites of his eyes are almost completely eclipsed by his honey lemon hue.

You intwine your hand with his. Another prayer. "Foolishly, I do."

“It isn’t foolish at the slightest.”

“It’s alright.” You smile. “I’d like to be the fool for once.”

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

You fidget with your suit steps away from the spotlight, holding your cello with your other hand.

“Stop fidgeting.” Trey instructs you, flattening the creases you’ve made to your suit jacket. He smiles. “It’s just nerves, they’ll pass when you get up there‒ you’ve told me so before..”

“I don’t‒ I don’t know if I’ll be able to play it right. I haven’t been this nervous in ages.” You still straighten the tie around your neck. “Maybe I should tell Azul‒”

The cloth is straightened again, before he glides his hands to your shoulders, bringing you an inch closer to feel the warmth that radiates off his skin. “You’re going to be amazing.”

Your eyebrows crease. “How can you be so certain?”

“You’re all that.”

His hand guides you towards the curtains, lingering when his fingers reach yours before you step into the spotlight. Azul finishes your introduction as you look towards the audience, searching for a familiar face. You find his eyes, and there is no need for any magic, any power‒ for you to find the faith in his eyes. You let it guide your bow, and the strings vibrate like golden hair gleaming in the sunlight, marrying sweetly‒ your internal harmony guided by his sweetness.

The music swells, breaks, heaves‒ before it dies out once more. The lounge fills with the sound of applause, and you sheepishly smile again the few whistles and whoops your club-mates send your way. Each and every thread of sound resonates within your body, vibrating with color.

Once you get off the stage into the crowd, you see Trey march towards you, before almost knocking you down with the force of his embrace. You allow a bit of your power to spin him off his feet, before you separate‒ wanting to see the look on his face.

"Will you come with me?" You pull his hand away from the crowd, breathless in your excitement.

"Where?" He asks, similar in his bursting fruition.

"Out there. Here. Over there. Wherever."

He smiles, the warmth moves the beat of your heart to the tip of your fingers, back into his palm when you lace your other hand with his. You think‒ I'd be a follower, a devotee, a dog for this. Have faith. I've got you. It’s terrifying, and it shakes you with excitement.

"I can't wait."

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

Notes:

The book I mentioned the priest had is based on the real Dissertations Upon the Apparitions of Angels, Daemons, and Ghosts, and Concerning the Vampires of Hungary, Bohemia, Moravia, and Silesia that 18th-century Benedictine monk and distinguished biblical scholar Antoine Augustin Calmet wrote. It was actually a large source of inspiration to Bram Stoker's dracula. Basically a collection of reports and examinations of vampire/monster attacks emerging in eastern Europe during the late 17th to early 18th century. The accounts of the undead rising and infecting whole villages, reaping of their health and blood that were recorded in this compendium of monster attacks formed a lot of the imagery and characterizations associated with vampires.

Historically, bloodletting was a popular method during the 19th century to cure medical conditions, especially psychological‒ as it was based on the concept of humors. Fun fact, this is why there is a distinction between surgeons (“barbers”) and physicians, and is why the striped barber sign is red and white‒ red symbolizing blood and white the bandages. This method was used from everything from hysteria, insanity, and heartbreak, to things like scurvy and epilepsy.

Bloodletting, transfusions, and vivisections (experimental surgery) both appear in Dracula because they were the hot new science of the Victorian era. Stoker's father was actually a physician so a lot the medical cures and information in the narrative frame the work very closely to the social, religious, and medical attitudes during the period.

Though Victorians still believed the world of humors (ie blood, yellow bile, black bile, and phlegm, or more commonly known by their four counterparts: sanguine, choleric, melancholic, and phlegmatic)- the era began to see a rise of Heroic medicine which sought to shock the body of its ills (ie bloodletting, drinking blood, etc etc)

During the New England vampire panic of the 19th century Victorian era, it was believed that consumption (Tuberculosis) had a strong connection with vampires and the “rise of the dead”, because of the seemingly unexplained rapid spread of this disease that would “consume” its victim and its family at an alarming rate (this was mostly just due to general hygiene issues and the cures for TB being syrups and elixirs of like literally just morphine and cocaine). TB victims usually had pale, emaciating skin, and in combination with how to identify a suspected vampiric corpse (ie grown fingernails = sharp claws; plump skin = immortality/fast healing); the common cures to TB other than those concoctions during the period such as bloodletting, blood drinking, and the “climate cure” (spending a lot of time outside in sunny, warm climates = aversion to the sun); as well as the spread of TB (highly infection, if one person got it in the home, it would spread rapidly to other members of the family = seems like that originally infected person was “consuming” the rest of the family members) kind of makeup the symptoms, physical aesthetic, and indicators of vampires we know today. Pre-Christian notions believed that a body could be “infected” by evil spirits, the concept of evil, etc.. if not buried properly, which translated into the Christian context as demonic or satanic influences entering the body. And because Churches were often the ones dealing with burials, and setting the precedent for burial rituals‒ they had a lot of influences in setting the precedent for burial rituals, how dead bodies should be handled, etc

Because of the strong religious influences during this Victorian romantic period, and the seeming “failings” of empirical science and thought‒ a lot of people turned to the church

Historically, during the New England vampire panic in the 19th century Victorian era, it was believed that consumption (Tuberculosis) had a strong connection with vampires and the “rise of the dead” because it would “consume” the entire family, beginning with one of the family members, then spreading to everyone else because it was highly infectious. This is why things like pale skin, and vampires needing to feed off of blood is a thing because it is connected to the symptoms and infection of TB (blood drinking was also a cure at some point??)

Everytime I'm like "should I add this ultra specific detail with an irl artist's name??? Does it make sense with the twst universe?? Ah whatever‒"

Anyway I choose Chopin for a lot of reasons. The primary reason was that his music moves me deeply (please listen to the piece if you haven't heard it before). He also suffered from TB (aka consumption), and most likely suffered through a chronic version of it his whole life, which caused a lot of suffering and medical complications through his youth, and into adulthood when rising to fame as a composer. This cello piece was the only sonata that wasn't on the piano, and was played at his very last public concert in Paris. He also had kind of a miserable love life because of his weak health (a condition he could not fix), I thought it would be an interesting connection with MC along with the emotional value the song has on its own.

BPD is very misrepresented and incredibly stigmatized in media especially but also the mental health and treatment spheres in general so I did a lot of not only personal introspection but also research on it as well. I thought vampirism would be a good metaphor for BPD because I imagine the concept of eternity and also having to physically drain someone of their life source would cause a lot of attachment and abandonment issues in addition to the feelings of shame and guilt that often come with having BPD (“why am I this way?”). The monstrous appearance described and often visualized in Dracula/vampire related films and media, as well as the myth that vampires don’t have a reflection also not only conceptualizes BPD and its affect on self image, but also visually narrates the aspects of mentioned shame, guilt, and self hatred that come with BPD and the emotional regulation issues that affect relationships. Anyways I not only wanted to do BPD justice because I feel like its very rarely represented in media accurately and with a happy ending, but I also wanted to explore

I didn’t want to go too in-depth with the cult stuff because I feel that could veer off track. I drew from my own experiences (I have a close family member in a cult), as well as some research + some inspiration from a game series called Faith: The Unholy Trinity. But of course the central ideas of isolation, salvation (under a specific pretense), and dependency are there.

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