#middle school me is clawing at the walls and ripping out his hair | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luminari-mc · 3 years ago

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(Mammon x MC/Reader)

Prompt: "She doesn't compare to you. No one does.”

Genre: Angst, hurt(emotional)/comfort.

Pairing: GN!MC/Reader x Mammon

Summary: You and Mammon finally get to enjoy a well-deserving shopping trip just between the two of you. Just as you are about to hit the next shop, your attention is caught by an image advertised in the street.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: I wanted to try my hands at a prompt that is tagged as "fluff", but of course I ended up turning it into something angsty instead. But I like sad stuff, so that still works for me.

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It wasn't often that you got to spend time with Mammon without having any of his brothers around to bother you. But you had made it very clear to them that these few hours after school would be spent with Mammon, and only him. And for today's trip, you two had decided to go shopping in one of the busiest streets in the Devildom.

Clothes and jewelry stores, malls- you had done them all. When most of this time had been spent doing window shopping, Mammon had still insisted on getting at least a few bags of purchased goods for each of you by the end of the day. After all, what was the point of going on a shopping trip, if you didn't end up emptying your bank account only to regret it later?

And so, thanks to the demon's wonderful influence, your arms had now several bags hanging off of them. There was a certain guilt still looming over your head as you realized way overboard you might have gotten with your purchases, but Mammon promised he would take care of any financial problems you could encounter in the near future because of that. You still wondered how he was going to manage it, him being Mammon and all...

"Damn, now THAT'S what I call a good haul! Look at ya!" The white-haired demon grinned as he watch you hop out of the store, the glass doors opening automatically at your presence to let you out. He placed his wrists on his hips as his own bags dangled in his hands. "What'cha got for yourself this time?"

"They actually had that jacket I saw in a magazine the other day!" The doors closed behind you as you showed the white bag which contained the jacket. "You were right, that store was amazing. I can't believe you never showed it to me before."

"Ha! Told ya the Great Mammon knew where the best treasures were! Consider it an exclusive info, because I ain't gonna share more if any of my brothers are around next time." Mammon turned around before flipping a few of his bags over his shoulder, as you instantly began to trot to get to his level.

"What? So all this time you knew about it and you didn't tell me? Just because Asmo comes with us sometimes?" You expressed shock, right before your eyebrows joined together. "Really, as if you couldn't have told me over text or something."

"And have you go without me?! Nah, ain't gonna happen- you'd just get lost and end up in the worst store possible." Mammon glanced your way, and you could only smirk at his poor excuse.

"Sure, you're right. I forgot that humans don't have the same flawless sense of orientation as demons do." Despite your obviously sarcastic tone, Mammon didn't seem to register it as he nodded at your words.

"Exactly! Even if I gave you the full address, who knows where you'd end up? I don't want ya to come and complain to me afterwards, so it's gotta be with me or nothin'."

Even as you rolled your eyes, you noticed Mammon's face slightly turning away from yours, probably to hide the extra shade of color that had appeared on his cheeks ever so discreetly. Even when he was in his usual tsundere mood, it was endearing to see how concerned he was for your safety. And just how badly he wanted to be alone with you.

"So, where to next?" You asked without really thinking, surprising yourself that even after your extensive purchasing, you still wanted to do more. Or maybe it was that you didn't want this date to end right away. The past few weeks had been nothing but the brothers interrupting each other when any of them found themselves alone with you, so getting to spend some alone time with one of them, especially with Mammon, deserved to be extended a bit more.

"Glad ya asked!" As if a battery had been plugged into him, the demon brandished his arm into the air, the bags swinging by his face and missing him by a few inches. "I got this whole place where they're sellin' tons of stuff for pretty cheap, but it's actually authentic branded things. See, they're actually sold to that one guy who then has to sell them to another guy, and..."

As you listened to Mammon explain how he was able to find "authentic stuff" (probably not that authentic, you were pretty sure about that) for less than a quarter of its original price, your eyes found themselves drifting to an impressive ad plastered on a building the two of you were walking by. Recognizing the habit of Majolish to put their models on display for everyone to see was pretty easy, but that wasn't what caught your eye in the moment.

What tuned Mammon down completely in your ears, were the models themselves. The second born, sitting on a stool with a ripped shirt and pants, a few accessories hanging off his neck and barely covering anything of his exposed chest. He looked serious, staring straight at the objective- and at you, while the light shined on him to completely capture his frame for the picture.

And sitting down in the middle of the shot, between his legs, was a female demon wearing a red leather dress, her head resting on top of Mammon's leg. The clawed hand dangling off his knee- covered in golden rings, seemed to taunt you, as well as the piercing yellow eyes she had. Saying she wasn't beautiful would be lying. In fact, she was absolutely stunning. A perfect model for a perfect shot. Just looking at her made you feel small, like a prey that was about to be devoured by a hungry beast, the longer you were looking at her.

But that's what demons were supposed to make you feel like, right?

"Hey!" Mammon called out from the distance he had put between the two of you since you had stopped walking beside him. "Yo, MC!"

Watching as you kept staring into nothing, Mammon rolled his shoulders with a furrowed brow before walking back toward you, his head tilting to the side as he noticed your dead expression.

"Huuh hello, Devildom to MC? In which realm did ya get lost this time?"

"They replaced it." The words that left your mouth were weak, almost too silent for him to hear. It's as if all of the energy you had had evaporated from your body in an instant.

"Huh?" Mammon grew a bit concerned at this sudden change. His eyes perked up at the ad you were looking at, as you continued.

"The shoot we did together." Finally, you spared yourself from the sight, your gaze dropping to the ground. "They already replaced it with another one."

As soon as Mammon understood why *this* ad in particular seemed to be upsetting you so much, his jaw was already clenching. He remembered the stars he had seen in your eyes the previous week when you saw yourself on the Majolish ad, posing beside him- a shoot opportunity you had gotten while accompanying him after RAD a few days prior. In the middle of his shoot, he practically didn't leave any choice to his agent and had insisted that you be included in the shots to promote one of the new pieces of jewelry the brand was planning to release in the upcoming months. Asmo, who was there to witness your reaction on that day the three of you went out, had even taken a hundred pictures or so of you posing in front of the ad.

Except that, the jewelry you had posed with, was now present on the new model posing alongside Mammon.

He had made sure to engrave that smile of yours in his head at the time, even going so far as to snap a picture of your face while you were too focused on Asmo to notice him. But now, there was absolutely no trace of that same happiness anymore.

"The fuck?" The snarl that left him shook the walls of his throat. "That wasn't supposed to be advertised before another month! Why'd they have to take ours so soon?!"

"It's okay, Mammon." The demon stopped growling as his eyes lowered on the hand that was clutching his arm. "I mean... I'm not a model. Figures they wouldn't put it up for long... I-I mean, look at me. Seriously, who would want to see my face being exposed for longer than they can bare? It's hard to imagine. I wouldn't probably have sold their product anyway, so... it's okay."

The look on your face was devastating. Despite trying your best to smile, the tears pricking in your eyes were threatening to roll down your cheeks at any second. Mammon felt his heart being stabbed with a thousand invisible daggers, he couldn't bear to watch you feeling insulted in such a way.

His bags were immediately dropped onto the floor, the demon no longer caring for any of the fragile items he may have bought. His hands swung forward to cup your cheeks, forcing your face up to look at him straight in the eyes.

"Hey hey, MC. C'mon, look at me."

You did your best not to let your vision turn blurry because of the upcoming tears, and stared back at Mammon, your bottom lip trembling weakly.

"I don't care what anyone, model agents or not, can say- you'd sell a thousand more times than any fuckin' models out there, okay? In fact, you're worth even more than their stupid jewelry!"

His thumb quickly brushed away a tear from the corner of your eye as his other hand came to rest on your temple.

"They just put that one up there because that model is famous. They don't care about what's really beautiful, they just want to boast their popularity to the rest of the world." The blue of his eyes seemed to radiate the closer he moved towards you. "But I know what's beautiful. And her? She doesn't compare to you. No one does."

You could only look down in shame as his hands never left you, closing your eyes shut to let a couple tears out before Mammon grabbed a tissue from his pocket to dry your face. He patiently waited a few seconds for you to calm down, soothing you with slow caresses of your hair until your shoulders stopped shaking.

"I'm sorry..." you muttered, sniffling as you passed a wrist over your eyes. "I don't know why that upset me so much..."

"Ya got nothing to be sorry about." Mammon retrieved his hands from your head, only to grab the bags that were hanging off of your arms. He somehow manages to hold them alongside his own behind him, before wrapping the other arm around your shoulder.

"Hey, I'd call this a day. How about I prepare ya a bath when we're home? Courtesy of the Great Mammon."

You nodded, your lips arching into a smile as you grabbed the hand hanging off your shoulder. The day was cut too short for your liking, but you didn't feel up for any additional purchases, or to properly enjoy your outing anymore.

"Will you wash my hair?" You entertwined your fingers with his as he gave them a gentle squeeze.

"Pah, of course! Who else but me could do that?" He huffed through his nose, shaking his head at such an obvious question. Your laugh ringing in his ears gave him a brief moment of respite.

But the demon furrowed his brows as he lead you into your walk back home, keeping you snuggled at his side. Holding the bags in his left hand, his white nails sharply digged into his palm the more steps he took alongside you.

Making them cry? Such a big, big mistake. One thing was sure, Mammon wasn't about to let that one pass.

"But before that..." The hiss that escaped his throat went unnoticed by the two of you as your head rested against his shoulder.

"I'll have a few calls to make."

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deejadabbles · 2 years ago

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The House of Anubis (Atem x Reader Halloween special)

Part Four: The Darkness

One //// Two //// Three //// Four //// (Five coming soon) ///

Summary: The house was large, a manor, really. Imposing, yet striking more aw with every turn of a corner. You had never thought you’d be dragged back into the family business, but your brother needed you, and so too did his latest project. It stood alone among the trees, yet, you never felt alone when inside. Hairs prickle on the back of the neck, shivers run down spines, and hands fidget with every unoccupied moment. And the thing- or rather, person, who simultaneously eases and worsens these feelings? Atem, a man who was just as mercurial as the house itself, all smirks and light comments one moment, then lingering stares and strange musings the next. So the real question remains, will you uncover the secrets both the man and the manor are harboring?(A Halloween mini-series inspired by the show ‘The Haunting of Hill House’ and the movie ‘The Frighteners’. The Reader x Atem themes are, admittedly, light as this mostly focuses on a spooky haunted house story, but the romantic undertones are there. Gender-neutral reader.)

A.N. Okay, how many of you wanna take bets on whether or not I'll actually finish this before Halloween of next year? I'll try my best, but for some reason, all I seem to get motivated to do is one chapter every Halloween -.- Maybe the next one being the last will motivate me! Either way, I hope you guys like the new chapter, and have a good Halloween!

...

The woods, seven years ago.

All the horror movies were true.

All the scenes of children tucked into bed, holding their breaths in fear at the shadows on their walls. All the images of branches reaching out like skeletal fingers, ready to rake and claw at unsuspecting victims who thought they were tucked away safe in their homes.

Those scary movies her older sister were obsessed with had perfectly captured the visage of old gnarled trees casting terrifying shadows. That was all Clare could think as they drove through the thick forest.

“You really think it’s a good idea to go out this far?” she asked, only now barely able to rip her gaze away from the barren branches reaching out for their car. “Haven’t you listened to those pod casts about people going missing on the backroads because of hill billy psychos?”

Jon, one hand on the steering wheel, one holding a contraband cigarette courtesy of his mother’s purse, actually scoffed. “There you go again, told ya she’d chicken out right before we got there!”

“I’m not-” Clare grit her teeth, “I’m just saying we should be careful! Heck, not even about axe murderers, you know how many people get into car wrecks from deer and shit jumping in front of them on roads like these?”

“Stop being an dick, Jon, she’s just worried your shitty driving is gonna to land us in a ditch,” came Dylan’s voice from the seat behind her. She heard a shift and his head came peeking between her and Jon. “Where are you even taking us?”

After taking another drag of the cig, and passing it to Dylan Jon said, “Let’s just say it’s not inbred machete maniacs that we have to worry about.” Taking his eyes off the road, he gave Clare that look. The look he got in their kindergarten class right before nap time, the look he used when their backyard bonfires lit up his face in an eerie glow, the look before he jumped out at an unsuspecting friend. “We’re going to an actual haunted mansion.”

Dylan groaned throwing himself back into his seat, “Yeah fucking right, there’s just a mansion sitting out in the middle of the woods? Come on, man, you spent all of middle school dragging us to cemeteries and abandoned buildings, I thought you were done with this.”

“This is for real, dude! It really is a creepy ass old mansion,” Jon started digging around in the small space between his seat and the center console, “and, get this, the old dude who owned it, died mysteriously a couple months ago.” He withdrew a piece of paper that Clare recognized as one of their town’s desperate attempts to cling to the past. “Read it yourself!”

After getting it shoved into her hands, Clare glared as she unwrinkled the newspaper clipping. The small article did indeed tell about some professor who died in his family home, but…

“A heart attack?” Clare rolled her eyes, “An elderly man dying of a heart attack is ‘mysterious’?”

“It says right there that he was in perfect health, though!” Jon insisted, but interrupted himself with an “oh shit” as he jerked his wheel to avoid missing a turn in the road.

Now with the trees more sparse than the dense decrepit woods from before, Clare felt a little more at ease. This was all just another one of Jon’s poor attempts to scare them, she hardly had to worry.

“Look,” Jon continued after straightening out his car, “my uncle says he knew the guy who died, and that he was starting to get all weird in the end. Talking nonsense, locking himself away in the mansion more than usual, and, warning people never to come visit him at his house. Dude went nuts like a professor in a Lovecraft story!”

Again Dylan’s head hovered between the front seats, “Doesn’t seem a little…you know, disrespectful or- or ghoulish to go through this dead guy’s house? He obviously had mental issues.”

“God damn, you two are no fun,” Jon accentuated his claim by blowing a raspberry.

And, given that he wasn’t careful to watch the road while he rambled about ghost hunting adventures, Clare took it upon herself to watch the road for him. The night sky was at least visible now, and the full moon overhead gave her some comfort. Ha, a full moon, that must have been why he chose tonight in particular to practically drag them out of bed with no warning just short of midnight.

She was just thinking about telling Jon to watch the road better when something made her stiffen. She saw it in the corner of her eye first, a flash, a spark, and she felt her chest hold back a gasp as her head whipped to the right. Clare leaned forward, trying to see past Jon’s head as she scanned the trees for, what, she wasn’t sure.

“Hey, what’s up?” Dylan nudged her arm, seeing her search through the darkness.

She swallowed. “I…I don’t know I think I saw something-”

A squeal of tires as she slid forward, her elbow making painful contact with the dashboard when the car came to a hard stop.

“Ow! What the hell, Jon!?” In a rare fit of anger, she punched Jon in the arm, before using the same hand to cradle her sore elbow.

To his credit, the driver actually did sound sincere when he said, “Sorry! Sorry, I think I missed the driveway, so I panicked.”

Dylan muttered “driveway?” under his breath as he twisted to look out the back window. “Holy shit, you’re right, I think it’s right there.”

Clare squinted her eyes at where he was pointing, though her view from the passenger front wasn’t great. In the moonlit dark, she thought she could just barely make out a mailbox on the roadside.

Before another word, Jon wrestled his junk-on-wheels car into reverse and veered into the opposite lane as he backed up. There it was, on the same side of the road where she thought she saw something in the trees: a long, unlit, winding driveway.

Jon had that look again, that smile, and he wiggled his eyebrows at them before turning into the driveway.

Despite herself, Clare swallowed hard. The twenty-year-old headlights of the rusted Toyota only cut through the shadows for a few feet, and again she felt like the darkness and trees were pressing in on them. Thankfully, the rocky path wasn’t as long as she had thought, because the woods soon broke into a clearing. There on the right, it stood, probably the biggest house she had ever seen in person, and that included the mayor’s place.

Towers, arching windows, vines woven over brick, it looked like it belonged on the cover of her sister’s old gothic romance books. Moonlight made some of the windows glint in the dark, and Clare realized that that must have been what she saw in the trees earlier.

“Hold shit,” Jon mumbled, “Uncle Tim wasn’t kidding, it’s fucking awsome!”

“And you’re sure no one still lives here? Like the dude's wife or something?” Dylan asked.

“Nope. My uncle said he just has a granddaughter left, and she lives in LA doing computer science shit.” With that, Jon killed the engine and popped open his door, leaving them both to do the same as he approached the house.

The front porch added to the spooky air, no doubt. Spiderwebs in every corner, wicker seats toppled over, and to top it all off: a rocking chair creaking in the night breeze. The old wood steps groaned and a blanket of leaves crunched underfoot as they walked up to the large front door. Immediately, Jon grabbed the handle and turned it hard.

Nothing happened, besides Jon banging his shoulder on the dark wood.

“Come on, you didn’t actually think they’d leave it unlocked, did you?” Clare teased as she turned to the arched, paned glass dotting the front of the house. “Maybe we could try a window?”

Jon gave one last annoyed look at the door before nodding. Dylan had already gone to the closest one, moving the broken wicker furniture to get close enough. A mighty lift, but the glass didn’t budge.

“Dude, give me a hand,” he waved at Jon and they were standing shoulder to shoulder, trying their damndest to slide it up.

While they heaved and pulled, Clare wandered back to the door. There was a fan-shaped pane of glass near the top, so she pressed herself against the wood and stood on her tiptoes. The view was hazy, dust or maybe the glass was simply warped from age, and the moonlight through the windows didn’t help too much. From what little she could see, the door opened into a large entry hall of sorts, and, if she squinted, she thought she could make out a large staircase.

A shadow in the darkness shifted. Clare felt her heart skip a beat, eye’s frozen on the spot where she swore the light from the window wasn’t shining. She made herself look behind her, at the trees surrounding the clearing, and gave a sigh of relief when she realized it must have been the branches swaying in the path of the moonlight.

She leaned back on her heels and turned towards the boys, who were still trying to open the same window. “Guys, I think you should try another-”

Click.

The creak of old wood filled her ears, as the door beside her opened.

It only stood ajar an inch or two, and she didn’t see anyone on the other side, but it still caused her to take a step back.

“Awesome! How’d you get it open?” Dylan asked as he and Jon came to her side.

Again, Jon wasted no time in taking the lead, he grabbed the edge of the door and pushed it open. They could practically hear his eyes go wide, “Holy shit!”

Clare tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat as Dylan crossed the threshold. It…it must have been unlocked the whole time, and just got stuck like old doors did. Yes, yes that had to be it. And it finally opened after she leaned on it for so long.

With that thought to calm her, she followed her friends. They took cautious steps inside, surrounded by old walls and creaking floorboards. She was right, it did open into an entry hall, with a grand staircase on the other side, but this wasn’t anything like the old houses they saw in movies.

“It looks like a set for The Mummy.” Dylan ran his hand over the thick layer of dust covering the sand-colored depictions of hieroglyphs and ancient gods.

“Yeah, Uncle Tim said the guy was some sort of Egyptologist. Guess he was waaaay obsessed with his job.”

Clare took her index finger and traced the face of a winged woman. “I thought you said he only passed away a couple months ago,” she asked, frowning at the dust coating her fingertip.

Jon shrugged, “Maybe he wasn’t big on dusting.” He turned and wandered to the doorway on the left side of the hall. “Man, he’s got even more Egypt stuff in here!”

Clare heard Dylan walking over to where Jon stood, but she was still transfixed by the wall. Something cold ran up her back like an icy spider, making her want to wrap her arms around herself. She turned to look behind but found nothing, just open, dusty space.

The chill didn’t stop at her spine though, it slithered down her arms till she started rubbing them through her hoodie.

Creak.

She heard it above her, and her eyes snapped to the ceiling.

Thud.

“Guys,” her call came out a hoarse cry, “Guys, I think someone’s upstairs!”

The boys, who had barely gotten to the next room, turned to face her again, “Huh?”

She was still watching the ceiling, listening, straining to see or hear any sign to tell her she wasn’t overreacting. The ceiling, web coated and peeling, was dark, and she blinked when she thought he saw a section of it…swelling.

No, her eyes weren’t seeing things in the dark, a tile in the bronze ceiling was swelling like a bubble. She watched as it got bigger and bigger- then screamed when it split open to reveal a large bloodshot eye.

Clare fell to the ground, still screaming as she crawled back backwards to the door, watching as the eye got bigger and the bulge in the ceiling slid like dripping ooze to the closest wall. The boy’s were calling her name, and just as they began pulling her to her feet something large on the stairs fell with a deafening bang.

Even with that and her screams, they still heard it.

“What are you doing here!?”

The deep, almost inhuman voice caused their heads to snap towards the staircase.

There, on the landing, back lit up by the marvelous stained glass, was a man with wild hair and eyes that seemed to pierce the darkness.

“Get. Out.” His voice was as deadly as a snake’s hiss, and even Jon gripped the doorway as he backed away. “Get Out! Now!” the figure roared.

They didn’t need to be told a third time. Dylan had a firm grip on Clare as they scrambled across the porch and down the stairs. An arm’s length from the car they heard that same baritone call out to them again: a warning.

“Never speak of what you saw here tonight.”

Jon didn’t even bother putting the car in reverse, and did the sharpest U turn of his life, peeling out of the driveway as if the devil himself were on their heels.

Atem watched them go, still standing sentinel at the top of the stairs.

Then his eyes snapped to the bubbling thing that had slid its way across the wall to the front door. The frame of a skeletal hand was visible under the wallpaper, reaching out in hunger at the meal that had gotten away.

Atem’s anger flared anew.

He was not a cruel man, even scaring those children hadn’t pleased him, but for that thing, he could find no mercy. Especially after Arther.

“If you think,” he took a step down the stairs, “that after everything you’ve put my friend through,” another step, “that I would ever let you harm another innocent,” his foot clicked against a hard floor, “then you are sorely mistaken.”

Atem was not a cruel man, but for the darkness infesting this house, he had no mercy.

The front door slammed shut on the creature's screams.

The manor, present day.

Music was never something that the old thief Alexander Hawkins had indulged in often, only when company graced his house did he allow his wife to fill their halls with the croon of a radio or record. Even his son Arther, who quite liked the birth of rock and roll, rarely turned the volume high. Today though, today a pair of siblings played a scratched up CD as loud as their old paint-stained stereo would allow.

Your head nodded along with your favorite track as the song blared against the tile walls. You remembered this setlist well, it was one of the first mixes your dad bad copied for you and your brother: a rite of passage in helping him with his work.

Laying tile was one of the few tasks you had struggled with when learning your family’s craft, making sure every square was ruler straight, pipping the grout just thick enough that there weren't layers and layers of clean up. It had taken many bathrooms and kitchens less grand than this to get proficient at all that.

So, the professional work you were doing now filled you with some pride.

The downstairs bath had been in desperate need of new tiles- both on the ground and the wall, and a road trip to some antique furniture stores in the area had yielded the perfect replacement pieces. The gold imitation of marble tied in well with the decor of the rest of the downstairs, lavish enough to not feel like an afterthought, but not so garish that the small space might make you cringe.

Unfortunately, your music was drowned out for a moment, the scream of a saw whirring down the hall as your brother finished cutting the tile needed for the edges of the room. When the sound died down again a new song was playing and at first you started humming along again; but when the lyrics started, the tune made you pause.

Usually, you paid no mind when this, one of your brother’s favorite songs, popped on, but today, in this particular house…

You flicked the little dial on the side of the radio, turning the volume down to a murmur as you turned back to your work.

In truth, the day spent shopping had been a much needed excuse. The last day you spent in this house, the day you had stayed till nightfall, had shaken you and your brother more than either of you wanted to admit. And the worst part was, looking back, you couldn’t even say why that night had scared you so much. Nothing had…happened, not really. Neither of you had said anything about the strange feeling of urgency felt when leaving the house, the sudden sensation that something was wrong.

Even still, the next morning your brother had suggested the shopping trip, as if the bathroom were some pressing issue that needed mending by the end of the week. Not that you complained, a day away from the House of Anubis was welcomed by that point. Something about this place just felt…heavy at times.

“Blasphemy, kiddo! One does not turn down the volume on Don't Fear the Reaper.”

Big brother had come back down the hall and set the bag of freshly cut tile by the door before he leaned down and turned the volume back up.

“I couldn’t hear it over the saw anyway,” you countered, and he put his hand over his heart dramatically.

“Well, see if I try to make myself useful again with that attitude!”

A playful roll of your eyes and you went back to your work. He did make himself useful again by refilling your drink from your stash in the kitchen, which was nice. It was almost completely drained again by the time you were finally done with the tile but at least the work was done.

Needing a break from the damp muddy smell of grout and that strange oppressive air of the house in general, you told him you were stepping outside while he mixed the paint for your next job.

Instead of going down the little hallway that led back to the entry hall, you took the door that opened into the study, then the next door that got you into the conservatory. Green was still bursting to life in every free space of the glass-domed room, and you made a mental note to double-check that there weren’t any vines digging into the rest of the house when you got the chance.

The glass doors at the front of the conservatory opened to a small side porch with a nice view of the woods. Said trees were beautiful this time of year, your view was an endless ombre of reds and oranges and yellows. The crisp autumn air filled your chest as you took in a deep, cleansing breath and closed your eyes.

After letting the cool breeze wash over your face for a while, you took a step out into the yard and looked up at the house, letting your gaze travel across it. There was a small balcony where the glass roof of the conservatory met the rest of the house, connected to the master suite.

As you gazed over the upstairs windows, you noticed that the outside walls had some strange angles to them, ones you hadn’t noticed when staying the night in the master room all that time ago. You found yourself tilting your head in confusion, no, that wall shouldn’t jut out like that. Maybe the room next door, but…hold on, that wasn’t right either…how could…

You were unceremoniously drawn out of your reverie by the sound of a car door slamming shut.

A blink as your mind traded one confused train of thought for another and you turned your head towards the sound. A car? Then the thought of Atem crossed your mind. Perhaps he had finally recovered from his mysterious illness and had come back to see you.

Though, you didn’t ever remember seeing him use a car.

The trek through the overgrown grass beside the house was a bit much, but you soon made your way to the side of the front porch, peering out at the driveway. There sat a nice-looking car, small, silver, and near it, stood a bespeckled blonde woman. She was staring up at the house, eyes a bit blank as she kept her arms folded tight over her chest.

You made sure to make your next steps out into the open a bit loud before you called out with a “Hello, can I help you with something?”

The effort not to spook her was in vain, and she jumped a little as she turned in your direction, “Oh!” a shake of her head, “Sorry- I didn’t mean to just stand here and stare.”

You had crossed the distance to her now, and up close, you could see that she looked to be in her late thirties, maybe early forties. Now at arm’s length, she finally untangled her limbs to hold out her hand.

“I’m Rebecca, Rebecca Hawkins, I think you bought this house from me.”

Ah, so this was the granddaughter. “Actually it was my brother who bought the place. I’m just here to help.”

She made a little ‘oh’ sound, her eyes darting back towards the house before quickly snapping to you again. “Well, I was passing through the state and I thought I’d come by and see the place one last time before it’s sold off to another family.”

You nodded, but didn’t miss the way she instantly folded her arms after shaking your hand. “He said that you lived in California, I guess you didn’t get much time to see it before you sold it, huh?” you pressed, remembering how odd it seemed to you, that she would leave behind so many things in the house.

The woman scoffed, digging her heel into the gravel as she gazed at the grand front door. “Honestly? I haven’t been here since I was a teenager. My parents moved to another state when they got married, so we only came back here every couple of years for the holidays. I don’t really have much attachment to this place so when I inherited it, figured I’d just let someone else deal with it.”

“Ah, so that’s why everything was left inside,” you mused out loud, “I understand, if you weren’t that close with your grandfather, it would be more a headache than anything.”

Rebecca’s head didn’t turn from the house, but her eyes did shift back to you out of the corner of her glasses. “Well, we were close, there for a while, but, towards the end he just…”

Her eyes had snapped to the manor once again as she trailed off, and the gaze stayed there for a moment, seemingly transfixed. Then she seemed to shiver from an imaginary breeze.

“Anyway, it took a few years to sell, but I think it's for the best.”

“Do you want to come inside? See what we’ve gotten done for the place?” you offered, before an awkward silence could settle.

The heel that had been worrying a spot in the gravel slid forward, towards the porch, but she quickly shook her head. “No, no, I think I should get going. I just wanted to see the old place with my own eyes before I moved on.” She gave you a smile that was a bit forced before shaking your hand again. “Thank you, I hope you and your brother can make some good money off it.”

And before you could insist she at least come in for some coffee, she was opening her car door. However, before she fully shut it, she apparently had one final thing to say.

“Oh! I also wanted to ask, has a man named Atem shown up at all? He lived in the area, so I thought he’d be curious about who finally got the manor.”

Your eyes went a bit wide at the mention, “Oh! Yes, he has, he actually told me all about the house's history.”

Rebecca smiled, “That sounds like Atem, he’s got to be, what, fifty by now?”

“He’s really inter-” You began, but then your mind froze when her words sank in. Fifty…what? “E-excuse me?”

She went on, not hearing your confusion, “Yeah, he was probably in his twenties last I saw him, though, I was a little girl at the time.” She shook her head as she closed the car door, and through the down window she said, “Well, tell him I said hi, grandpa always talked about him, so I hope he’s doing okay.”

And with that, she turned the car on and pulled out of the driveway leaving you standing frozen on the gravel path.

The drive to the hospital was unusually quiet on your end. Your brother talked, especially when you mentioned your morning visitor, but almost everything he was saying was nothing but a buzz in your head.

You couldn’t have heard Rebecca correctly. Atem had to be in his twenties now, not when she was a kid. Or- or maybe she was confusing Atem with someone else her grandfather knew. Or…

“Hey,” you started when there was a pause in whatever your brother was saying, “Do you know if Atem’s dad lived here too? …And if he’s maybe named after his dad?”

He let out a confused noise, but his mouth twisted in thought for a second, “I don’t know, I can’t remember him ever mentioning his parents. Why?”

You had to let out a sign before answering. “Oh, nothing. Just something weird Rebecca said before she left. I must have just misheard her though.”

Big brother hummed again, “Well, like I said a minute ago, everything about her visit was weird. I mean, who goes out of their way to come by this little town to see a house for less than five minutes?”

He had a point, her odd behavior should have been the most troubling thing about her visit. “She didn’t mention where she was going but, if it was any decent-sized city nearby she still would have had to drive, what, almost an hour off the major highway?”

Nodding his head, your brother added, “Not to mention when she sold me the place, her realtor said she’d had the place for years and specified that she had no interest in coming out to the house before the sale was final. Kinda weird to change her mind now.”

“Guess she just needed some last-minute closure,” you finished as you pulled into the hospital parking lot.

After dropping him off, you spent the drive back to the manor trying to get your mind off of the strange meeting. There was no use reading into something that, in the end, likely had nothing to do with you.

Still, you wished that Atem hadn’t been gone for so long, it could have taken your mind off of most of the things plaguing it once he gave you some simple answers. With that desire in mind, once you got back in the area, you actually spent some time going down several roads near the manor in a half-hearted attempt to find this little house Atem mentioned living in.

It was half-hearted because you didn’t actually go up to any of the houses to see if he lived in any of them. It felt too odd or random to just show up on someone’s doorstep asking about a strange man you didn’t even know the last name of.

So, in the end, after not seeing him on a front porch or driveway of the few houses you found, you turned the car around and went back to the manor. Work was sure to take your mind off things. You’d play some of the CDs you loved most in your brother’s collection and zone out on your next project.

Or at least, that had been the plan.

You spend no less than fifteen minutes sitting in the driveway, telling yourself to put the mystery away then dwelling on the thoughts once again in a vicious cycle.

Thankfully, as your eyes drifted over the house while you thought, you remembered another small mystery that had cropped up that morning. That’s right, you had been in the middle of figuring out why the walls of the upstairs didn’t match the inside when Rebecca showed up.

Figuring that solving one small mystery could help you forget another, you slammed the car door shut with determination set on your face.

You marched through the front door and didn’t waste any time grabbing the floor plans from the main workstation in the drawing room. With them rolled up in hand, you ran upstairs to the master suite and spread the papers on the lavish bed.

Even before you lifted the layer of clear plastic your brother used for notes, you could see that your suspicions were right. There, beside the balcony, the master bedroom was supposed to have an alcove about four feet deep.

“Okay,” you clapped your hands together, turning to the flat span of wall beside the balcony door, “according to the floor plans, you should not be here,” you said to the wall as you ran your hand over it. Now, what was the best reason to cover up a section of a room? Secret passages were a staple of old houses, after all.

It was all smooth planes, if they had covered up the alcove recently, they did a good job. No fancy bookcases to hide a door, no strange seam hidden by the pattern of the wallpaper, but… there was a walk-in closet beside the mysterious missing space.

Thankfully there were hardly any clothes left in it, so you only had to slide a few suit jackets aside as you crouched near the right wall inside the closet. If you were going to hide a secret door, this would be the spot you’d choose for sure.

Your heart was actually thudding a bit hard in your chest as you ran your hand along one edge of the wall, then up to the top and around the other side.

Then a breath caught in your throat as your finger caught on a very, very thin vertical line. Taking the light on your phone, you shone it over the spot and that’s when you saw it, barely perceivable: the outline of a small door.

With fumbling hands, you grabbed the keys from your pocket and carefully wiggled them into the seam, then pushed on them like a mini crowbar.

Pop!

The panel swung open just an inch or two and stale air met your senses, but you couldn’t care much as you tried to push the door open. Excitement made you give up halfway through, and you hurriedly shone your light into the hidden room.

The beam dragged across cobwebs and windowless walls that were a bit distorted from neglect. Then the light traveled across thick layers of dust, stained hardwood, and- and something sitting at the very center of the small space.

It was a pedestal.

Somehow you ignored the vague sound of something creaking inside the room as you squinted your eyes. A pedestal? You placed your hand on the doorframe as you started to lean forward, thinking that you saw something metallic glinting atop it when the light played across the space. Cramped and dark and tiny, you thought staring into that wrong-feeling void was the reason the hairs were standing up on your neck, until the door slammed shut on your hand.

A scream of pain tore your throat apart as something- something inside the room was pressing the door hard against your hand. You struggled, feeling the skin on your knuckles tear open as you tried to pull your hand free, even using your free one to push against the force behind the door.

Then, you heard a frantic call of your name, and someone was kneeling behind you.

A frantic cry trailed off in the air as you turned and saw Atem, glaring at the secret door as he put his hand next to yours, “Push!”

As if you had stopped trying. Together both of you pounded on the door and even over that noise and the pain, you could have sworn you heard something like claws scratching at the wood on the other side.

Whatever it was, it relented and you were sent falling back out of the closet and into Atem’s arms.

Still frantic and screaming and crying, you both scrambled to your feet, Atem practically dragging you out of the bedroom.

“Wh-what the hell!?” you were barely making sense, but when you both reached the stairs, Atem let you go.

He looked just as sick as the last time you saw him as he leaned against the railing, and waved a hand down the stairs, “Go-” he paused, seeming to catch his breath, “go downstairs. To the kitchen. I’ll get the first aid kit.”

Despite the million questions resting atop your near-panicked state, you couldn’t seem to find it in you to argue. You took the stairs two at a time, cradling your bloody hand gingerly the whole time. When you finally made it to the kitchen, you couldn’t calm down enough to sit, even as you tried to rationalize what just happened.

Maybe there was a shutting mechanism on the door that made sure it shut behind whoever entered? Or, maybe, maybe something inside the room fell and-

Or, maybe you were just going insane inside this house that caused mirrors to crack and brothers to have heart attacks and doors to slam shut on their own.

“Here.”

You hadn’t heard Atem come in, but there was a first aid kit on the kitchen counter now, and he looked up at you almost sheepishly.

“You need to take care of your hand, it could get-”

“What the hell just happened?” Your voice was more quiet than anything, but it was firm as you looked up at him, still cradling the hand he was so concerned with.

He looked away then. “I don’t know,” his back was actually turned to you as he said, “I came to visit like usual, and I heard your screams. I was just-”

“Cut the bullshit, Atem,” your voice was higher now, all your confusion and irritation and pain pouring out in your tone, “something insane is going on in this goddamn house, and I think you know all about- hey! Don’t walk away from me!”

He had started stepping towards the door, but in your anger you closed the distance between you both, reached out your hand, and-

And you fell through thin air the moment you touched his back.

The fall to the ground didn’t hurt much, but maybe your mind was just reeling too much to register it. In a scramble, you rolled onto your back and looked up at Atem. Or, at least the space he had been standing.

Something dark and smokey, like black mist curled and coiled in the air where you had fallen through Atem. Slowly, the shadow smoke merged back together, until it once again resemble the man. His face, slowly returning to a full, fleshy color, looked down at you with something like resignation in his eyes. You stared back at him for a long, silent moment.

Then, for the second time that night, the house filled with your scream.

#atem x reader #yami x reader #yami yugi x reader #yu-gi-oh reader insert #Atem #series: the house of anubis

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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years ago

Text

Potent

Alpha! Hanta Sero x Fem! Omega! Reader

***18+ Fic***

If you are under the age of 18 please vacate the premises.

Warnings: A/B/O, smut, knotting, marking, breeding kink (sorta? idk it comes with the A/B/O territory), a hint of pregnancy kink, a bit of blood

Word Count: 3.6 k

Author's Note: Ohhhhkaayyy so this has been sitting in my google doc for AGES. I think I started this in...October of last year? It's been sitting there for months and I've lacked the motivation to finish and post it but then I sent in an anon ask to @reinawritesbnha and, being the absolute queen she is, she became the little push I needed to do it. I DID IT FOR REINA!!

Also, this is some of my earliest writing and I only skimmed and edited a little bit of it so if there's a little bit of weird pacing or a strange cutoff where the writing styles clash it's because I haven't touched this piece in months.

Anywho, enjoy~

It had to happen when you were surrounded by alphas.

Your suppressants flaked out, again, and your scent wafted through the air on the street. Normally It’d be fine for an omega to let their scent float freely around them. But your scent is particularly...potent, even when you weren’t in heat. Not only that, but you weren’t mated yet, your scent glands still bare, and you still didn’t have a pack. To make matters worse, you’re quirkless.

You hadn’t realised what was happening until your path was blocked by an especially large male alpha. You turned around, and there were two more behind you. Fuck. This isn’t good. You took in your surroundings and searched for an exit, but you couldn’t find a way out. There's no way you’d be able to outrun the three very large male alphas.

Probably the worst part is that more alphas are turning their head toward you, taking notice of your lavender honey and rain scent that slowly began turning to a sour swamp. You dared to hope that change would ward off the three cornering you, but they’d already got a whiff of you. Several distressed chirps sounded from your chest, voicing your discomfort, and you glared pointedly at the three alphas as they edged closer to you.

You hate when this happened. Why’d you have to be cursed like this? Your growls only grew, baring your little omega fangs. There’s no way in hell you’d let some stranger scent you, let alone one of these creeps. They wouldn’t take the damn hint and just crept closer to you, calling out to the ‘pretty little omega’ to ‘come have some fun’.

You’re scared now, the involuntary chirps in your chest coming more frequently. None of the other alphas or betas on the street were big enough to face the three, making you a sitting duck and a ragdoll if they wanted you to be. Your claws are small, nowhere near ideal for this situation, but you’d use them if you needed to. With a final low defiant growl you dropped your bag against the wall behind you and readied yourself for a fight.

Suddenly a large body dropped in front of you, his back to you. His scent alone hit you like a freight train, orange zest, mint, tree bark and something earthy. It had your head spinning, nearly sending you into an early heat. He growled, low and powerful, the sound rattling in your chest and making you sink further into the wall behind you. The other three alpha’s scents together were still overpowered by the new alpha before you, and they vanished faster than they appeared.

He turned around and stepped away from you, giving you space to breathe. He kneeled down enough so he was eye level with you, his hands reaching out clearly in an attempt to comfort you, but kept from touching you.

“Are you okay?” The question barely registered, still delirious from his scent, and you’re having a hard time recovering. Large hands grip your shoulders and shake you lightly, your mind beginning to clear with the soothing pheromones he’s releasing.

“Omega.” The command snapped you to attention, your gaze fixated on his own dark irises.

“Are you okay, omega?” You blink, swallow down the lump in your throat, take a deep breath.

“Yeah...I’m okay. Thank you, alpha.” But you’re not quite okay. You need to get home. Fast. The alpha seemed to catch on, probably by your scent that still hadn’t returned to normal. He stands and slips off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders and wrapping you in his scent. It’s a comforting gesture.

“Let’s get you home.” With a nod you set off, the man walking next to you with a strong, warm hand on the middle of your back.

“What’s your name?” You introduce yourself, and he does the same. His name is Sero Hanta, and now that you’re calm again, you take in just how handsome he is.

Raven hair is pulled back into a small bun, showing off his undercut and strong, sharp jawline. Onyx eyes shine with kindness and playful mischief, and a beaming grin reveals pearly white teeth. He’s incredibly toned, his muscles calmly rippling under the t-shirt that stretched over his chest. You vaguely noticed the strange shape of his elbows, but disregarded it as his quirk. The omega in you is howling, begging for this alpha, his scent invading your senses. But you suppress it quickly, reminding yourself you’d only just met this man.

As you reach your apartment you exchange phone numbers, and he tells you to keep the jacket and use it when you go out to ward off any unwanted attention. You thank him again for helping you earlier, and he waves to you as he walks down the hall and enters the elevator, the doors closing in front of his handsome smiling face.

Despite meeting him only ten minutes earlier your instincts trust the alpha, and you hold the jacket close to your face, breathing in his scent. It’s wonderful, and your inner omega is in love. You find yourself wondering when you’d see him again.

The next few days are riddled with work and calls to your doctor about the strength of your suppressants. You work from home as a secretary for a small company. It’s a miracle you’d found it, too. Nobody wants an omega, let alone a potent one. It’s an alpha’s world, you guess. When this job opening popped up you were ecstatic, so you took it and have been working from home with decent pay for the last five years.

The calls to your doctor were not going as smoothly as your job, though. You leave a message every four hours until she finally calls you back. She was concerned since the suppressants she’d prescribed are the strongest out there, and if your scent was overpowering them they were either defective or your scent glands were overproducing. It wasn’t an immediate threat to your health, it only meant you’d be drawing more attention than you wanted to. Still, it’s annoying and makes life so much harder than it needs to be.

After she prescribed twice the amount, she said she’d look over your tests from the latest visit before she hung up the phone. You groaned once the call ended. You seriously needed a break from your second gender. Taking the prescribed double dose of suppressants, you got ready to go out to the corner cafe to read and drink coffee. Hopefully the new amount will keep steady. You really don’t want to deal with any more aggressive alphas this week. For good measure you pull on Sero’s jacket, allowing his scent to cover you, then grab your keys, phone, wallet and a book and begin the walk.

When you arrive at the cafe you order a hot mocha, curl into the small corner booth and crack open the book. You got lost in the ink and your mind floated along the adventure, putting yourself in the shoes of the main character and leading the mission to take down the corrupt queen who’d framed you for killing the prince of a neighboring kingdom. You were ripped from the fantasy world when a bright, enthusiastic blonde came up and tapped you on the shoulder, making you jump. His smile was as bright as his hair.

“Sorry to scare you cutie, but I couldn’t help but notice that jacket of yours smells an awful lot like my friend Sero!” You smile softly at the blonde.

“Well if we’re talking about the same Sero Hanta, then your nose would be correct. This is his jacket.” His eyes widen as he nods.

“Oh my gosh you must be the omega he keeps talk-” The blonde’s words became muffled by a large hand. A hand that belonged to the very man you were talking about. Sero smiles apologetically down at you as he shoves the blonde back to where you assume they’re sitting.

“Sorry about Kami, he’s… extroverted.” You smile back at him, mostly because you’re happy to see him again.

“It’s no problem at all. He recognized your scent on me.” He looked down and only then realized you’re wearing his jacket, and he beams at you. Then he takes a glance at the booth you’re sitting all alone at, his smile falling just a bit.

“Do you wanna come sit with us?” You take a moment to think about the offer, then agree with a nod. Your omega couldn’t pass up more time with him.

As you approach the booth you notice there are more people with Sero than you anticipated. There were four other people sitting there. Sero introduced all of them from left to right. Bakugo Katsuki, Kirishima Eijiro, Ashido Mina, and the happy blonde from earlier is Kaminari Denki. You introduce yourself and when Sero slid into the booth, you followed after him.

These five are a tight pack, and you learn they all met in high school. Bakugo’s brash personality made you wary at first, but it didn’t take long to realize he’s just like that with everyone. He makes a bit of a snippy remark, which you easily counter, and he smirks while the rest smile or snicker. It would seem they like you.

You can’t tell what their second genders are, and you mentally kick yourself for even wondering in the first place. Their genders are none of your concern, but you can’t blame yourself when you’re constantly alert because of your own stupid second gender. As it turns out, you don’t need to wait very long to find out.

This time you smell your own scent as it permeates the air around you. You swear under your breath at the stupid suppressants that obviously can’t so their job, and the others snap their gazes to you. You sigh.

“Yeah, that scent is me. My suppressants flaked again. Sorry about that.” They all nodded, seemingly understanding. Sero must have told them about the other day. Of course, it would soon repeat. It didn’t take long for an alpha to take notice of your scent. The man -- why is it always the largest males??? -- strides up to the booth with a cocksure grin and leans down to inhale your scent. You duck away from him, into Sero, and let out an albeit small warning growl that was drowned in Sero and Kirishima’s. He ignored them all the same.

“Hey there little omega, you smell real nice. You wanna come hang with me instead? We can have some fun together with my buddies, what do you say?” The others stayed quiet. They’re going to let you defend yourself before they do anything in case they end up escalating the situation. You turn your head and lift your shoulder, hiding your scent gland.

“I’m not interested, thank you. Please leave me alone.” You hoped to whatever deity watched over you that the man would leave. Before anyone could react the alpha grabbed your wrist in a vice grip, yanking you roughly from your seat. You chirp, your scent turning sour and the entire pack abruptly stands, baring their fangs at the man. It barely registered in your head that Kirishima and Bakugo are alphas, Mina is a beta, and Kaminari is an omega, their fangs giving them away.

The man tightens his grip on your wrist and you cry out, your bones creaking under the pressure. With no other options you did the one thing that would get him to let go, and sank your fangs into his wrist. You jump back into Sero, who wraps an arm around you protectively.

“You bit me, you bitch!” He raises an arm, clearly about to try and hit you, but a large hand grabs his wrist. Surprisingly enough it’s Bakugo, and his growl is laced into his words.

“Leave now, or you lose a hand.” Sero speaks up from above you.

“You might wanna listen, amigo. That’s Dynamight.” The alpha rips his arm from Bakugo’s hold and looks down at you, and you growl at him as he scoffs and walks away, apparently not ready to fight the #2 pro hero over an omega.

You all sit back down and you pull up the sleeve of the jacket to inspect the already forming bruise on your wrist. Your nose wrinkles with a half-angry half-pained snarl. Tenderly, Sero takes your wrist and lightly squeezes the sides of your forearm, against your bones, and your lack of reaction tells him nothing’s broken. Still, he growls at the offending bruise.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You shake your head and put a hand over his.

“It’s not worth it Sero. He’s probably long gone.” You turn to the rest of the pack.

“Thank you for protecting me.” Kirishima is the first to speak.

“Of course! That dude was a jerk. I just hope he doesn’t go around doing that to other omegas.” Bakugo, surprisingly, spoke next.

“Obviously we’d protect you. You’re a potent omega and quirkless, so you attract unwanted attention without even knowing or wanting to. Besides, if you’re gonna be Sero’s omega there’s no way in hell we’d let some extra handle you like that.” The implications make your face burn, and Kirishima smacks the blonde’s arm with a ‘Don’t just say that kind of thing, Katsuki.’

After an hour or two of talking, and shockingly no other aggressive alphas, they all walk you home to your apartment. Sero wanted to check on your wrist again, so you invited them all in, but they all had something else to do, so you were left alone with Sero. The fact that the one alpha you desperately wanted to be around is alone with you in your apartment is both great and terrible. Thankfully, you have self-control and his own suppressants are working perfectly fine.

He inspected the darkening bruise on your wrist, his large hands gripping your arm tenderly and turning it gently as he prods at the skin. It doesn’t hurt too bad, so you assure him you’ll be perfectly fine. Eventually he leaves with a hug and you sigh once the door is closed, relieved that you were able to keep your omega at bay and your hands to yourself.

A couple days later you get a text from him and the two of you text often, asking how each other’s day went, if anything interesting had happened. You didn’t leave your apartment unless you needed to, since your suppressants clearly weren’t working, so you made sure to cut grocery trips short and keep away from any alphas that seemed a bit aggressive. Sero invited you to hang out with the pack at their house, and you obliged.

They lived in a huge house all together. Most of the rooms were sealed so no scents or sounds could go in or out for ruts and heats, and there were several spare rooms that were empty and waiting for more pack members. It was a fun hangout, filled with video games and good conversation, and even better food which Bakugo cooked. Sero had an arm around you whenever he was close, and you definitely didn’t mind. Your suppressants flaked in the middle, again, and Sero insisted he walk you home. With him walking you home there weren’t any alphas trying to get you this time. You ended up going over to hang out with them a lot when you weren’t working, and eventually Sero began to court you.

Obviously, you accepted, and after a few months of dating and scenting, your overactive scent glands seemed to mellow out, Sero’s scent mixing with it. Your suppressants are lasting much longer now, which is a good sign. Now that you’re Sero’s omega, he often helped you with your heats and you’d help him with his ruts, and he was strong-willed enough that he hadn’t marked or knotted you in the middle of things.

About a year and a half into the relationship you realize you really love him. Sure you had arguments, but everything was settled through calmed discussions over coffee or tea, and you came to understand each other well enough that arguments became few and far between.

You’re happy with Sero, so when your heat came around early and he was there to help, you were going to let him know just how much you loved him.

You texted him once you felt it starting. He was there within half an hour, and you pounced on him once the font door closed, smothering him in hot, wet kisses, eager to feel him inside you. He carries you to the bedroom, and you two are quick in shedding all of your clothes. He lays you on your back with a hand on your throat as he growls into your ear, making a hot shudder roll down your spine.

“Are you ready for me omega?” You whine and nod, your slick already dripping down your folds. You want him so bad it hurts.

“Please alpha, I need your cock.” He growls again, satisfied with your answer, and he presses into you, bottoming out with one firm thrust. You chant his name like a mantra as he set a bruising pace, rutting into you recklessly, wet skin slapping on skin the only other sound beside your whimpers and his growls. His teeth nip at your shoulder, sharp fangs testing your skin and claws digging into the fat of your hips. His cock is so deep, hot swollen tip kissing your cervix with every full-bodied thrust and sending you into a euphoric haze. Your own claws are sinking into his back, leaving little trails of red and blood beading down the lines. It drives him wild every time.

“That’s right, little omega. Mark me up, I’m all yours. Fuck you’re so pretty underneath me like this.” His hands grip behind your knees and press them into your chest, folding you nearly in half as he plows into you further. The angle knocks the breath from your lungs and your eyes roll back. You can feel his knot beginning to swell, feel how his thrusts are getting more controlled and his grip on your thighs tighten from the sheer concentration it’s taking for him not to breed you. You have other plans. Between wheezed breaths you squeak out.

“H-hantaaa~” He slows to a near snail’s pace, grinding his slowly growing cock into your sweet spot, a smirk stretching across his face as you splutter from the sudden change. He’s enjoying making you squirm.

“What is it, sweetness? Tell your alpha what you need.” You pant, chest heaving as much as the position will allow.

“Want your mark, want your knot~ Wanna be bred Hanta! I want your pups!” He stills completely, claws digging into the fat of your thighs with enough force to have drops of blood falling to the sheets beneath you. You’d never said anything like that in the heat of the moment. He can’t have heard you correctly...right?

“Princesa, do you know what you just said?” The seriousness in his tone has you sobering, but even before you knew exactly what you were saying. You nod frantically, wiggling your hips to get him to move again.

“Yes! I know alpha! Please, give me your knot~” His growl makes your bones shake, and with no warning he drops your legs around his waist and leans down so his face is buried in your neck.

“Fuck, I’m gonna trust you with this baby girl. I’ll give you exactly what you want.” His fangs sink into your scent gland just as he picks up his brutal pace, and the euphoria makes you cum hard, your whole body locking up and mouth falling open in a silent scream. He plows into you as you regain your breath, and you bite down on his own scent gland as hard as you can, tearing into his skin with every intention of leaving a pretty scar for the world to see.

His knot swells more, and he’s pushing it into you with every ounce of power he can generate with that gorgeous body of his. With one final snap of his hips he locks his body to yours and cums hard, ropes of hot seed filling you to the brim. He collapses on top of you and laps at the wound on your neck and you do the same. After a few minutes he leans back and cups your face in his hand, gazing down at you like you hung the moon and the stars.

“Are you alright?” You nod, nuzzling into his palm.

“I’m sorry. I was gonna talk to you about it, but my heat came early.” He kisses your forehead gently, brushing the strands of hair from your face.

“It’s okay, pretty thing. I trust you know what you’re getting yourself into.” You giggle and wrap your arms around him.

“Of course I do. I love you, Hanta.”

“I love you too.” You lay there, tangled in each other’s arms until his knot goes down. You whine at the loss when his cock slips out of you, clawing at him to come back because you’re still in heat. His hand gently wraps around your neck, a low chuckle on his lips.

“Relax, we’re far from done.” His already hard erection rubs up and down your glistening folds, barely stimulating your clit, teasing you until tears prick your eyes and you’re beggin him to fuck you again.

“When I’m done you won’t be able to walk for days. I’m gonna breed you so well, You’re gonna look so pretty all big and round with my pups.” He groans at the image he’d conjured in his head and you squeal as he slams his hips into you.

You’re in for a wonderfully long night.

#sero hanta #sero hanta mha #sero hanta bnha #sero hanta x reader #sero hanta x fem reader #sero hanta smut #hanta sero #hanta sero mha #hanta sero bnha #hanta sero x reader #hanta sero x fem reader #hanta sero smut #omegaverse #tw: a/b/o

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prfctethereal · 3 years ago

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just another horror movie. | james potter

pairing: james potter x reader

chapter: prologue

warnings: NSFW smut, oral (female and male receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, talks of a killer, general horror themes

word count: 2.9k

summary: its been a week since you’ve last seen your boyfriend as there is a murderer out and about you spend the night together, not knowing that they aren’t safe themselves.

The power had long gone out, yet you couldn’t sleep, as the wind bashed against the side of your house. Home alone - your parents had gone away for the weekend - and the storm outside gave you the spooks. A faint candlelit light warmed the living room, silhouettes dancing across the walls, as you sat curled up on the couch, trying to get the noises out of your head.

A book lay open on your lap, a random page open, but your eyes couldn’t focus on the words. You were nervous - storms always made you like that - but there was nothing you could do. All you hoped was that the storm would blow over in the morning. All you hoped was that you would peacefully fall asleep and morning would come quickly.

A scratching at the door knocked you out of your trance. Your head flicked up, eyes glossing over the front door, as you listened out. You tried glancing out the window to see who it could be, but the outside was too foggy. You could barely make out the flickering street lamps.

Cautiously, you moved towards the front door, your book folded back neatly in your hand. Maybe you could use it as a battering ram if there was an attacker at the door.

In your left hand, you picked up a candle, shining it towards the door handle. Taking a deep breath in, you flung the door open. Well, you slowly opened it, but the howling wind opened the door further.

“Jesus sweetheart, you gon’ let me stay in this rain all evening, huh?”

It was only James Potter.

Giggling, you tugged on his shirt collar, pulling him into your house, dropping your book on the way. His shirt had been soaked by the rain, no doubt that he must’ve walked all the way here from his own house. His usually beat fluffy hair was sticking against his forehead, crystal droplets clinging against his face. He looked devilishly handsome from the weather.

Staring up at his hazel eyes, you bit your lip seductively, waiting for him to make a move. For a moment, it seemed like he was just going to stay there, peering down at you through his water clogged eyelashes. Eventually, a half smirk tugged on his cheeks, a gentle rouge returning to his skin as he warmed up against the candle.

You couldn’t handle the suspense much longer. You leaned upwards, pressing your lips against his hungrily. You drank him in momentarily, getting intoxicated on his flavour - something sweet and something bitter at once - until you pulled away, needing oxygen.

“That’s a lovely welcome wagon.” James said cheekily, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, his wet fingers brushing against your cheek bones. “I was starting to think you had forgotten me.”

“It’s only been a week.” You hummed, leaning your forehead against his, happy to be in his presence once again. “You know my parents don’t want me going out at the moment. They’re still so tense about the so-called killer roaming around.”

James pressed his lips to your cheek, calming your nervousness down with his touch. “I know darling. I wish they wouldn’t take it out on me though.” His soft voice vibrated against your skin. You hummed along to what he was saying.

“It’s not your fault.” You muttered. “I have you now.” You started kissing from his lips to his jawline. Your plush cushions left tiny marks on James’ skin as you nipped lightly. Listening to his light moans only spurred you on, tugging him from the entrance way to back into the living room.

Pushing him onto the couch, you straddled his lap, continuing your venture on his neck. Sucking and nibbling at the skin underneath James’ ear, your desire to see your marks on him grew. Pulling back, you admired the flush on his neck, the other warm scarlet hue already fading to a gentle violet. Underneath your heat, you could feel James’ growing bulge against you, making you groan with arousal.

You couldn’t help your excitement. Clawing at his chest, you tugged on his shirt some more, signalling that you wanted it off. In a frantic scramble of limbs, you both worked together to undo the buttons on James’ damp button-up. Pushing it off his shoulders and revealing his toned torso, you pressed your lips against his chest, smothering open mouth kisses across his pectorals, eliciting whimpers from the bespectacled man before you.

James bucked his hips against you, signalling that he was getting desperate. In an attempt to sooth his desires, you pulled yourself downwards onto your knees, looking up at him. “May I?” You asked for consent, resting your hand against his thighs, the pads of your fingers tracing delicate circles against the material of his jeans.

“Please.” James gulped, already breathing heavily. With a smirk, you hoisted yourself upwards again, hands fidgeting with the zipper on his jeans, undoing the top button. When the jeans would allow you, you pulled them down, revealing James’ girth, straining against his boxers. The sight alone made you grow wetter in your underwear.

With another nod of consent from James, you pulled down his boxers, his thick member slapping against his stomach, red and angry from the tensing beforehand. Lethargically, you stroked the palm of your hand against his skin, spreading the leaking precum from his tip all over his length, making it smoother to handle.

Quickening your pace, you looked up at the fine young man before you, whose eyes were squeezed right from the pleasure. Except, you wanted him to look at you. It had been over a week since you had last been intimate and you wanted the attention on yourself. You were the one pleasuring James, not the inside of his eyelids.

“Look at me,” you whispered against his cock, “I’m the one making you a whimpering mess.” In an attempt to please you, James looked down at you, fixing his eyes to the way you pressed gentle kisses to the underside of his cock, your lips rubbing across his sensitive veins.

“S-so good.” James whimpered, as you took the beginning of his length into your mouth, suckling on the head. “Please… I need more. Please give me more. I’ll be so good to you, please, just give me all of your mouth. I beg of you, give me more.”

Satisfied with James’ begging, you started downwards on his cock again, trying to fit as much as possible in your mouth. As you were entirely caught up in the way James was falling apart beneath you, you didn’t notice the scratching at your window, until the wind had entirely slammed against it, rain pelting the pane of glass. The swinging window had opened itself up from the ferociousness of the storm, a cool draft interrupting your intimate moment.

A chill ran up the back of your spine, and it wasn’t from arousal. You took yourself off of James’ cock, giggling as to disperse the tension. His thigh muscles were flexed and tense, sweating beading from his palms. Sitting up slightly, you placed your hand against his, a feeble attempt to calm his racing mind.

“It was just the wind, love.” You murmured, sitting back on your heels, making your way to the open window. The hissing rain coated you in a thin layer of ice cold water, as you poked your head outside, checking the yard to see if anyone was there. Exactly like you thought, no one was there, except for a stray rodent in the grass. Satisfied, you closed the window, double checking the lock to make sure it was locked tight.

Spinning around again, you noticed James’ attention wasn’t on you once again. A frown appeared on your lips as you followed James’ gaze outwards into the kitchen. “Babe..” He whimpered again.

“What’s wrong?”

“The lights.” James paused, turning his head back towards you once again. “They were flickering.”

“Impossible.” You scoffed, strutting back towards James, placing your hands on his shoulders lovingly. “The power went out hours ago.”

You could tell James was still nervous, and rightly so. For the past few weeks, it seemed like a serial killer had invited themself into the neighbourhood, slaughtering mischievous teenagers whenever they could. Luckily, it hasn’t affected your friend group much, but it has still rocked you and your community. Your parents even refused to send you back to school.

They were hesitant to even go out his weekend, but you convinced them it was a good idea, as to leave you alone from their constant pestering.

“Would you like to go upstairs to my bedroom, love?” That peaked James’ interest, who immediately started flashing puppy dog eyes, as if that would convince you further. Grinning sweetly, you took his hand in yours, pulling his pants up momentarily, as you grabbed a candle.

Hand in hand, you walked up your creaky stairs together, with you leading the way with your candle. When you reached the landing, you invited James into your bedroom, closing the door behind you to set the mood even more.

Gently placing the candle on your bedside table, you laid yourself against your plush comforter, spreading your clothed legs to tease James slightly. It was just then when James realised that you were fully clothed when he had already lost his shirt and some of his pants. Greedily, he lunged forward, nimble fingers working at the hem of your shirt.

“Please can I take this off?” James asked sweetly, meeting your eyes with his. Humming in affirmation, James ripped the top through the middle, receiving a chuckle from you. He plunged his face into your protruding breasts, inhaling the scent on your skin. His hands worked subconsciously against your arms, pushing the remains of your shirt off of your body. When the last of that flimsy material was off of you, you swung your hands behind you, unhooking your bra, revealing your perky tits fully to your boyfriend, who looked like he had just won the lottery.

“Go ahead darling.” You affirmed to the boy, who immediately latched his mouth onto your nipple, humming in delight at your taste. At that moment, you felt like heaven. The soft noises of James sucking against you brought you peace in this stressful time.

You felt James move across to your other tit as your eyes glossed over to your open curtains. In a flash, you saw a darting figure, something solid and dark standing within your tree. When you looked back, it was gone.

Must’ve been a trick of the light.

You were getting too worked up again. To move the thoughts out of your head, you gently reached underneath James’ chin, tilting his face upwards, stroking his cheek with your hand. You reattached your lips to his, pushing the anxious thoughts away, only focusing on the person giving you pleasure in the moment.

“May I?” James nosed at your jaw, taking in deep breaths, yet you were unsure of what exactly he wanted. Smirking, you cocked your head to the side, pouting ever so slightly.

“What do you want darling?” You teased, letting your finger wander across James’ skin. “If you want something, you have to ask.”

James was slowly turning into a whimpering mess as he continued nosing at your neck, placing gentle kisses to your sensitive skin when he felt like it, something you let him do lightly, as he was still a little spooked from the window situation.

Then, you felt James’ hands travel south, trying to connect to whatever skin was available. You understood in that moment what he wanted, grinning cheekily and tugging his face down. With your approval, James looked delighted, flipping your skirt upwards and pulling down your panties. Mesmerised by how your arousal had already soaked through the material, his jaw fell open slightly.

James dove in, kissing and nibbling at your quivering cunt. He licked a fast stripe up the entire length of your pussy, finishing at your throbbing clit. It was screaming to be touched from James’ accidental teasing. When he eventually attached his lips to your clit and sucked, you arched your back off of the bed in pleasure, blissful to finally be getting what you wanted.

His playful tongue teased your entrance, dipping in momentarily before completely pulling out. You hadn’t realised how much you needed him until now, but you let him have your fun. He was your good boy after all.

James continued his venture of your cunt, feasting upon it like a starving man. You tried to keep your eyes on him - to admire the sight and to not be a hypocrite - but your eyes wandered towards the window. You had the full view of the tree once again. You still couldn’t get that figure out of your head, as much as you would like to with the adoring man between your legs.

A crash rang out from downstairs.

In an instant, James shot up from between you, looking at your bedroom door that was pulled shut. You could’ve sworn that you had even heard James growl slightly. Reaching towards him, you carded your fingers in his hair, scratching at his scalp in an aid to sooth him.

“Shh- shh- shh, it will just be my cat darling, don’t fret.” You tilted his head back towards you, pulling him upwards so he was hovering over your naked body. You stretched upwards, connecting your lips with his, tasting yourself on his tongue. You moaned into his mouth, the feeling of his cock pressing against his lower stomach getting to you.

“I need you in me. Please, I want you.” You begged, showing a little submissive behaviour to redirect James’ attention. It worked. His eyes were fixed on you once again, his tongue darting out from his mouth to lick his lips.

“Okay love, just lie back.” James hummed to himself as he lined up his member with your entrance. Looking back at you for consent once again, which you granted with a nod, he entered your tight cunt, a moan escaping his lips.

It felt like ecstasy to be connected once again so intimately. You had forgotten how obsessed you were with the way he slotted into you. Bottoming out, he started thrusting with more effort, pushing himself along so you would fall apart. James’ favourite thing ever was the look you made when you came.

Trailing your fingers downwards, you played with your own clit, feeling your back arch from the bed. It was all too good. James was thrusting into you like it was your first time, and it almost made you forget about the storm outside.

Almost.

It seemed like your eyes were transfixed on your window. The rain was now peltering down ever harder, as if that was possible. As your own orgasm grew, it felt like the storm did too. Sweat was dripping down your face, but it felt like icy rain against your hot, flushed skin.

The lack of control was driving you mad. In a last attempt to clear your anxiety, you pushed James onto his back, his cock slipping out of you momentarily, until you straddled him once again.

Riding him made you feel better. James was back to moaning beneath you and you were calming down. The only sound that you were focused on was the sound of your skin slapping against each other and James’ heavy groans echoing off the walls.

“May I cum?” You had almost forgotten about James for a second. His eyes were screwed shut and it seemed like he had been asking for permission for a while, something that your senses must’ve skipped over. In a way to reassure your boyfriend, you ran your fingers over his chest, focusing attention on his tight nipples.

“Of course, such a good boy for me.” And with that, James came with a shout. You could feel the hot ribbons of his cum filling you up, as James toyed with your clit, desperate to make you cum against his cock before he softened. It didn’t take long as only seconds after James came, you came with him, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave, knocking over all of your senses.

When you came to, you noticed a scared look back on James’ face. Confused, you peered over to where he was looking, and heard it too. Banging against your bedroom door, someone was in your house and someone was trying to get into your room.

You screamed. It was the only thing you could do. Finding a rogue sweater off the ground, you struggled to push it over your head as James scrambled to pull his pants up. When you both felt like you were dressed enough, you rushed over to your bedroom window, opening it desperately.

A splatter of rain water hit your face, cooling you from your previous exhibitions. There was a tree right next to your window, which you reached out to, curling your fingers onto the branch. Looking back, you saw the door begin to open and panic settled in you.

You jumped. You jumped from a second story, landing not so ideally on your ankle. You hissed in pain and James followed suit, only he managed to land in a skilled way.

“Come on, hurry.” James pestered you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and hoisting you up. You began running away from your house together, your sprained ankle slowing you down more than you would’ve liked.

When you looked back, all you could see was a hollow figure standing on the footpath, watching you.

*** a/n: i wrote something again hell yeah

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter smut #james potter fluff #james potter angst #marauders era #marauders #harry potter #jahmfic

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traekenimagines · 4 years ago

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Hunting Season, Part Twelve: A Theo Raeken Imagine

Request from Anon: For Hunting season-Can I request one where Theo and his werewolf girlfriend are about to do it, like they're making out and it's gets heated but then they get interrupted. The pack needs them to do something and they're really frustrated until whatever the pack needs them to do is over and finally Theo pulls her away and they can continue. I hope that makes sense.

Obviously, this gets smutty. Hope this is okay for you lovely, and enjoy x

“Ignore it,” Theo spoke against Y/N’s lips, his hand working its way down her body towards her core. She moaned as he slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties, hovering over folds that were waiting for him. “Ignore it, and focus on me.”

But it was really difficult to ignore the constant ringing of the doorbell, no matter how much she wanted him. “I can’t, I’m sorry.”

Reluctantly, she moved Theo’s hand out of her panties, and pushed him off her. Her eyes lingered on the strain against his jeans, and her core only throbbed more. Now really wasn’t the time for visitors, and she was conscious of Theo’s eyes on her as he followed her to the door. As she made to open the door, she felt him behind her, pressing against her. “We’ll finish this later.” He nipped at her neck, and she resisted the urge not to groan.

Opening the door, she was thankful that Mason was standing there. He didn’t have any supernatural hearing, thank God, or she imagined he would have run a mile by now on hearing the filth that Theo had been spouting into her ear only moments ago. “Hey, Mason. What’s up?”

Mason didn’t seem to get the hint that he clearly wasn’t wanted. He didn’t seem to notice the flushed cheeks, the ruffled hair, Theo’s chin on her shoulder. He continued quite contentedly. “Scott needs you to come to the school. He wants you guys to keep watch on Nolan while we scope out the hunters’ base. “

“And won’t it be slightly weird that two people who don’t even go there anymore will be loitering in the corridors?” Y/N could feel the tension in Theo’s words, the irritation, the frustration. Or maybe that was just the hardness pressing against her back.

“It’s Beacon Hills. They’ll be expecting weirdness. And besides, having you two there will scare him.”

Mason had a good point. The new batch of hunters that had arrived in Beacon Hills had been educated on the chimera that had succeeded in killing Scott McCall, and his werewolf girlfriend. They knew not to cross them, and knew that if Scott was using them, he wasn’t playing games. As much as she wanted to get back to business with Theo, as much as she needed him inside her, she could see why she was needed elsewhere. “Okay, just give us a few secs and we’ll be out.”

Theo pressed against her in response, and she bit her lip trying not to moan, shutting the door on Mason as he agreed. Theo was quick to speak. “Are you serious? Right now?”

Y/N reached up and touched his face. “I’m sorry, baby. But I promise, I’ll make it worth your while once this is done.”

Theo’s eyes flashed golden, a sign of his approval.

A few moments later, and Y/N and Theo were in the corridors of Beacon Hills High School, eyes on Nolan and his friends. The human had seen them and swallowed, clearly scared, but that wasn’t what Y/N was really focused on.

Sexually frustrated was an understatement.

Theo Raeken had the nerve just to stand there, his arm wrapped around her waist, looking like he did. It was torture, complete torture. She could smell the sexual frustration on him too, the need for her, and she rubbed her thighs together, aching for him. The sooner Scott called, and told them they weren’t needed anymore, the better.

She rubbed her legs together again, trying to quell the wetness growing between her thighs. She noticed as Theo’s eyes flashed golden again, as he ground his teeth together. “Do you mind not doing that, sweetheart? The smell of you is making it really hard to concentrate.”

Y/N was about to come out with a witty remark when her phone buzzed. Scott, telling them they were no longer needed. Thank God. Theo read the message over her shoulder, and Y/N had just about put her phone back in her pocket before she was pulled into the nearest storage closet.

“Not waiting until we get home?”

“Oh definitely not,” Theo was already undoing the buttons on Y/N’s shirt, exposing her breasts. He crouched down and placed kisses down her stomach. She threaded her fingers through his hair as she reached the button on her jeans, undoing them before pressing his nose against soaked panties, inhaling her scent. “I believe I was about to do something here.”

Y/N moaned as Theo tore away her underwear with his teeth. Theo was quick to bury his face in her, his tongue lapping away at her folds. She didn’t care who heard as he pulled at her clit with his teeth, taking her into his mouth as if she were his own personal feast. His tongue scraped at her inner walls, already so tender, so wanting, and it wasn’t too long before she came, the product of her release spurting into his mouth.

She was shaking by the time she had finished, Theo coming up to her level and kissing her. She could taste herself on his tongue and all manner of dirty thoughts came to her mind. She wanted to taste herself on his cock, wanted him to fuck her hard and fast until she came on him, until he came in her. She grabbed the back of his head, pulling his lips away from hers and began unzipping his jeans.

Theo growled when she grabbed hold of his cock, and positioned him just below her entrance, waiting for him to thrust up into her. Instead Theo spoke, instructing her. “Put me inside you.”

With not a moment to waste, Y/N did as she was told, her moans joining Theo’s as he slid into her with ease. Her back against the door of the storage closet, Theo fucked her, thrusting up into her as he bit her neck. Y/N’s claws extended as she scratched down his back, cutting through his shirt, but none of that mattered. All that mattered that he was finally inside of her, his cock hitting her walls until it couldn’t go any further, his balls slapping the innermost parts of their thighs as she came to a quick release.

She shuddered around him, her core clenching as she growled into him. She rested her head on his shoulder, and spoke into his shoulder, spent. “Are you close?” Theo was still thrusting up into her, and from the way his cock was hardening inside her, she could feel that he wasn’t far off his own release.

“Fuck.” At his only reply, Y/N pulled him out of her and sank to her knees. She wrapped her lips around him, tasting herself on him just as she had wanted. He was so hard and as she sucked at him, she could feel his hands pulling at her hair. His grip tightened as he came into her mouth, spilling himself over and over again as she swallowed every drop.

When Theo was finished, she stood, pulling her jeans back up and buttoning her shirt. Her panties were abandoned, left for some unsuspecting teacher to find, and it was lucky that Theo had a jacket to cover up the rips in his shirt. Before they left, he pulled her into another kiss, so full of hunger, so full of love. “Don’t ever make me wait like that again, Y/N. The next time Scott wants us and we’re in the middle of something, you tell him we’re busy.”

“Oh, always.”

Hunting Season Masterlist

Masterlist

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf smut #teen wolf imagine #theo raeken #theo raeken imagines #theo raeken imagine #theo raeken smut #theo raeken x reader #cody christian #hunting season

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saraforsnailqueen · 3 years ago

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Finally, content! Sorry for the long wait, I got school and it’s awful. Anywho, here’s something for my two favorite streamers. GeorgeNotFound and BadBoyHalo! Who would you like to see next!

ᗰᗴᗴTIᑎᘜ ᒪᑌᑕKIᗴᔕ/ᑭᒪᗩYᗴᖇᔕ ᖴᖇOᗰ Tᕼᗴ ᖴᗩᒪᒪ!

Includes: GeorgeNotFound, BadBoyHalo

Requested: No

Warnings: Slight mentioned injuries but not descriptive.

GEORGENOTFOUND

You quickly learned that stealing would be the only way to stay alive during the apocalypse.

You hated taking from homes and stores when you knew that someone once lived or worked there, when you knew someone else might need it more than you. Unfortunately, you didn’t have much of a choice. Where would you get food from if you didn’t take what you could? But it made you feel so greedy in a way, even though you knew that was stupid. You had to live somehow.

The apartment complex looked extremely inviting. You could see how nature had started to reclaim the building over time. It seemed more intact than most buildings in the area, maybe you could settle there for a while. It would have lots of supplies too, you won’t have to feel so guilty about taking from separate homes.

The apartment looked much better outside than it did inside. The floorboards were destroyed and nature had claimed most of the furniture. You didn’t let that stop you from escalating up the stairs, however. Even if a few steps were missing, it didn’t matter too much. They were mostly safe besides the occasional half-broken board. There were 6 rooms on each floor, most of which seemed ransacked already which was quite disappointing but you held your head high.

The higher you went, the more supplies that seemed to be around. However, there wasn’t much good food left. A few closed cans of soup here and there, but most everything else was rotten or molded over already. The amount of medicine made up for it though. With you having to constantly wander, sickness was quite common.

You had just made it up to the third to last floor. This was where nature had really taken over. You could see where plants had started to grow on the floor above you through the ceiling. Most people probably wouldn’t go up to that floor, which meant most supplies were probably up there. Part of you didn’t want to go up any more floors. After all, many poisonous plants had come alongside the mobs and monsters. You took a deep breath and began exploring the second to last floor.

The plants seemed to only be in one room, and as much as your mind screamed you not to, you were curious. So you took a slight peak in the room, not actually planning to go in. The plants seemed to sprout from one source that was close to the furthest wall, there seemed to be either a huge flower bud there. The plants were also all blue. You told yourself not to go in, you knew better than to go in, but you had seen a box of waters in the corner closest to the flower bud. You could probably just have found a water purifier from a store, you could have done anything else other than go near the flower, but you seemed to have forgotten what kinda world you were in as you carefully tiptoed across the room, trying your hardest to not disturb the plant life.

There were around 8 waters in the box, which made the trip seem worth it at the time. You put all of them in your bag before slinging it back over your shoulder. You only took one step when the flower bud began to open up. You watched in terror as the flower bloomed to reveal a male slowly sitting up in the middle. He had brown hair from what you could see, but then again that wasn’t much. He seemed to have mushrooms growing from his hair and he wore a brown cloak which you could see his tail sway as he rubbed his eyes. He looked around and made eye contact with you, as you both just stared at each other.

When you went into the plant infested room, the last thing you had suspected to happen was meeting a very tired mushroom man that came out of a flower. But fate had different plans.

BADBOYHALO

When the apocalypse had started, you thought that your life would end very quickly. After all, you weren’t very athletic and had almost no upper body strength. Yet, here you were in. Almost two years later, bandaging up an injured demon.

You had met him while rummaging through a store.

You had just made your way to an old town you didn’t recognize. Then again, you weren’t able to recognize much anymore with everything being mostly ruined and you having terrible eyesight. Most buildings had been overtaken by nature and eventually collapsed under the pressure of everything. You weren’t able to find much to eat during the apocalypse, besides stale bread and cold soup. Nothing you couldn’t handle, but still, it would be nice to have something else for once.

The store must have been looked through once because most of the canned soup was already gone, not that you minded much. The store had a lot of candy, noodles (they taste good uncooked, fight me.), and water. There wasn't much medical stuff either, just some bandage wrap and rubbing alcohol. It would do for a while, at least until you could get something better. You decided to grab duct tape as well.

You were heading to the drinks in the back to see if you could get something else besides water, just as a good job staying alive this long when you heard a loud crash and the sound a cat would make when it fell.

Your first response was to pull out a pistol from your backpack and slowly approach the sound. You had quickly learned that not everything in this apocalypse was out to kill you and your kind. One was the villagers. Very kind human looking creatures, yet also hard to find. Villagers made an array of sounds and it was somewhat believable that they would or could make that sound.

‘Definitely not a villager’, you decided when the sight of a player came into view. You only knew what it was from books you had come across from the villagers. They were dangerous to the villagers, so the thoughts of what they could do to humans were terrifying.

The player in front of you seemed to be some sort of demon. You couldn’t make out much of them due to their black clothes and black skin, but you were able to make a black and red cloak of sorts as well as a gray and black scarf. They had wings that seemed to be bleeding, however, you couldn’t be sure. Two sets of horns came out of their head while two tails waved from under the cloak. Ontop them was a movie rack that had tangled their tails and trapped their horns, as well as capture one of their legs.

It must have smelled you or heard you coming somehow because they turned their head in your direction as much as they could. He - as you observed - had more than 4 pairs of white eyes and… whiskers? He seemed almost ecstatic to see you, blabbing away in what may have been latin. His tails tried to sway more yet couldn’t due to the movie rack.

You carefully approached, putting your gun away as you noticed he wasn’t much of a danger. You crouched and observed his face while he continued to blab on and on. He had a cut on his cheek, but that was it for facial injuries. His wings had many tears and rips, however. You stood back up and walked to his side. He tried to turn his head towards you but couldn’t as his horns were held tight in place.

The first thing you needed to do was free his wings from the movie rack, which was much harder than it seemed to be. You were most concerned about the tails, which would wrap around your arm the best to their ability. You tried to communicate with him, saying he needed to stop moving his tails if he wanted help. All you got was a confused hum and him trying to move his head more which would strain his horns.

You looked around and came up with a plan as your eyes landed on some duct tape on a shelf. You left the player’s side for a moment to grab the tape which made him struggle more much to your disappointment. You walked back over to him and wrapped the ends of his tails together which most likely wouldn’t hold for long, but it would be enough. You carefully pulled his tails out of the rack, only leaving his horns and leg. As expected, his tails quickly tore through the tape after.

His leg was easy to release, but you had spent half an hour on his horns. He kept turning his head and it would put you back at square one. But you had managed. He seemed extremely grateful to be free from the rack, standing to his full height and bouncing on his feet. You noticed he had similar feet to a bird with only four claws with one in the back supporting him. You began looking over his wings which made him do the same. He caught some hair in his hand and carefully brushed his claws through the tangled mess.

What a strange day it would be.

#zeinnits the fall #snail queen writes: the fall!#georgenotfound x reader #badboyhalo x reader #dsmp gnf #gnf x reader #dsmp bbh #bbh x reader #dsmp au #dsmp #dream smp #mcyt #mcyt georgenotfound #mcyt badboyhalo #dream smp georgenotfound #dream smp badboyhalo

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vagabondreamer · 4 years ago

Text

After the Fall (2)

Pairing: Lucifer x Angel! Fem! MC

Word Count: 2k

Series Summary: Angel! Fem! MC is part of an exchange program that sends her to the Devildom for a year.

Chapter Summary: MC attends her first day of classes at RAD! She encounters familiar faces and new ones - some friendlier than others.

CW: Mentions of drugs, Mentions of sexual assault, language, blood

Author's Note: Thank you so much for the support! I love reading your comments!

***

You stepped out of his office, slowly turning back to your normal form. You walked up the stairs, back into your own room. Closing the door behind you, you locked it, and face planted on your bed. You were upset and hurt, maybe even a little afraid; no one had ever insulted you before, and you weren’t prepared to see Lucifer in his demon form. Rolling over, you wiped away the tears that you didn’t even realize were falling.

“Pathetic.” Not sure if you were talking about yourself or him. Closing your eyes, you just hoped to fall asleep but the sound of your door opening caused your eyes to flutter back open.

“MC, Lucifer forgot to give you your DDD this morning,” Mammon said, handing over the phone to you.

“Now I get why they want me to knock,” you muttered to yourself.

“Hey - were you cryin’?” He sits on the bed.

“What?! No!” You look down at your phone, playing with it to avoid eye contact.

“Why are ya eyes red?”

“Uh,” you think of an excuse. “Obviously, getting high.” You smack your own forehead in response - not only were you a liar but a horribly bad one at that. What kind of angel gets high?

Mammon just laughs at your stupid response.

“Okay sure, next time share with me,” he jokes. It makes you feel a little better. “Oh, dinner is gonna be ready soon.”

“I’m not hungry.” In reality, you just didn’t want to see Lucifer.

“You sure? Beel will eat everything. There won’t be a second chance.”

“I’m sure, thanks.” Mammon got up and left your room.

You decided you’d rather shower and go to bed. Tomorrow was Monday, and according to Lucifer, your first day at RAD.

***

Back home, you woke up to the gentle sunrise and songs of angels. Here, you woke up to loud banging at the door.

“MC hurry up, we’re gonna be late!” Mammon’s voice could be heard over the banging.

You groaned in response, and threw the covers off of your body. Quickly, you did your routine and put on your uniform, and headed downstairs to the kitchen. Mammon stopped you, and turned you around towards the front door.

“Wait! I haven’t eaten yet!”

“Next time set an alarm, c’mon, we’re gonna be late!”

You were going to starve to death here.

Mammon practically dragged you all the way to school; the other brothers must’ve left a lot earlier. Your first class was history, and you shared it with Mammon and Beel. Barely missing the late bell, you slid into a desk right next to Beel.

“Hey MC.”

“Hey Beel.”

The professor started talking, and that was your cue to shut up. Everyone else was quiet, and your stomach decided it wanted to be heard. A loud growl erupted, and you grabbed your stomach, silently begging for it to be quiet. Beel nudged a protein bar to you.

“Don’t worry, it happens to me all the time.” You smiled and accepted the bar - eating it cheerfully.

Feeling someone stare at you, you turned to see Mammon looking at you curiously. Did you have something on your face? Your eyebrow rose, questioning his look. He just shook his head and turned his attention back to the front - how strange.

The class passed quicker now that you weren’t focused on food. The bell signaled the end of class and you got up, looking at your schedule - potions was your next class. You waved a small goodbye to the two boys and wandered the halls looking for the room; you could’ve asked them for help, but you were a self-sufficient angel, after all. The halls started to get less crowded and the warning bell went off.

“Oh, geez.” You rushed to the end of the hall and luckily found the right room. The only desk open was next to Satan and some guy with whitish silver hair; quickly, you sat down in between them.

“Hey Satan,” you whispered.

“Hey.” You turned to the boy next to you and smiled. His aura felt different than everyone else’s, he wasn’t a demon nor an angel, so he must’ve been the human Lord Diavolo was talking about!

“You must be MC.” He stated rather than questioned.

“Yeah, and you’re Solomon?” He nodded in response. “How did you get picked for the program?”

“I assume it’s because I’m the greatest sorcerer alive.” Oh, he’s cocky.

“Really?”

“More like the shadiest sorcerer,” Satan chimed in.

“Oh, you two know each other?” You ask.

“Hardly, he has a pact with Asmo and is always summoning him away.”

“Awh, Satan, if you want to see me so badly all you have to do is ask,” Solomon teases.

“I would never form a pact with you.”

“Never say never.”

“You three back there, after school detention!” The professor announces. You had been so engrossed in the conversation, you completely forgot you were in the middle of lecture.

***

The last class of the day was coming to a close. Thankfully you shared it with Simeon and Luke. You didn’t want to get in trouble again, so you kept the conversation to a minimum.

“Luke, how are you enjoying the Devildom?”

“I’m not! It’s unbelievable that we have to go to class with a bunch of demons!” You smiled sympathetically. He had a good point, you all were surrounded by demons - and it went against everything you had been taught. But, you decided to lighten the mood.

“Yeah I understand, but some of them aren’t too bad!” You recall how kind Beel and Asmo have been - even Mammon, who kept doing his own thing, wasn’t that bad.

“That’s right, you just have to keep an open mind,” Simeon added. Luke crossed his arms and just kept quiet. The final bell went off, meaning class was over. You were happy to be going home, but suddenly remembered you received detention with Satan and Solomon. Your shoulders immediately slumped over.

“You alright, MC?” Simeon asked.

“Yes, I just have to go talk to my potions professor.” You didn’t tell him the complete truth, maybe it was because you didn’t want him to be disappointed in you, or for him to report back to Michael - yeah, it was definitely the latter.

Waving goodbye to Simeon and Luke, you walk back to potions class. The professor is sitting at his desk awaiting your arrival. You sit at the seat directly in front of him, and look around, no one else is in the classroom.

“Where’s Satan and Solomon?”

“They both had valid excuses for not being here.”

“Wait, what -”

“You’ll sit there silently for an hour. Any noise and I will add thirty minutes.” His tone is cold and uncaring. You couldn’t believe those two ditched you! Crossing your arms, you held back any remarks or unwanted noises and waited the hour out. After about thirty minutes the professor let out a sigh and started packing his things. You took this as a sign he was letting you out early for good behavior.

“Oh, hah, my mistake. I have to go, but you still have about thirty minutes. You’ll be a good little angel and wait it out right?” He was most definitely mocking you. You just nodded your head in agreement, and he left. You waited about five minutes to make sure he was gone before you grabbed your bag and went out to the hall. It was empty. You headed towards the front doors, but felt a tap on your shoulder before you could make it outside. Turning around, you see three unfamiliar boys.

“Can I help you?” You ask unsure of their intentions.

“Actually, I think you can,” the tallest boy says. “We’re part of a club, and our equipment just won’t work.” The other boys nod their heads.

“Oh, I don’t know anything about technology.”

“Do you think you could look at it? We’ve all tried, and we really need to get our activities started.” They seemed sincere enough, but you were still hesitant - they were demons. But, what if they really needed help? And you deny them because of their species? That would be wrong on so many levels.

“Okay, yeah, where is it?”

“In our club room, come on!” They lead you to a classroom, there’s no one else in there, but you do see a camera on a desk.

“So, is this what’s broken?” You turn around to see that the three boys had transformed into their demon forms. You back away slowly. “What’s going on?”

“Awh, come on, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be just fine.” The tall boy comes closer, entrapping you between him and a wall. “We just need a video.”

“V-Video?” One of the other boys picks up the camera and points it towards you. Your body is frozen in place. Why weren’t you transforming? Tears pricked your eyes.

“Can you blame us? We’ve never seen an angel before.” His fingers slowly caress your face; you notice his sharp claws. “So, beautiful.”

“Please stop,” you say with authority, but it’s met with deaf ears.

“Hold her down,” he tells the third boy. You're pushed further against the wall, your wrists held over your head.

“No!” You cried out as you squirm trying to get free. The tall boy goes to rip your shirt open, but one of your hands slips free, you punch him square in the jaw.

“You bitch,” he shouts as he slaps your face. His claws dug into your left cheek, leaving three deep cuts. You fall onto the ground and try to crawl away.

“Pathetic,” the boys laughed. The boy kicks you in the side, it sends you flying into some desks; a sharp pain erupts in your ribs. He grabs your hair and makes you look up at him. “Sweetheart, I’m going to get what I want; how badly you get hurt is up to you.”

Your face is stained with tears and blood, and your body is aching. These boys were lower level demons, and yet they had asserted dominance over you like it was nothing. Why did Michael never train you in combat? Why were you being so useless? As if God himself heard your prayers, a familiar face passes by the door. You muster up all your might and call out his name.

“Lucifer!”

The boy holding your head up immediately let go and straightened up. His blood must’ve chilled at the sound of that name.

“Shit!” He walked to the door and looked out the small window - no one. He opened it, and as if he appeared out of nowhere, he was face to face with Lucifer. You made eye contact with him, but you looked away - ashamed at how you were found. Without hesitation, Lucifer grabbed the boy’s head and rammed it into the door - knocking him out. The other two immediately began begging for mercy, but found none. Lucifer didn’t break a sweat as he kicked their asses, pushing them to the brink of death. He grabbed the camera off the floor and removed the SD card, crushing it in his fist.

Calmly, he walked over to you - you were still crouched on the floor, paralyzed with fear. Gently, he scooped you in his arms and carried you home.

The walk to the house was silent; minus, your sniffling. He didn’t speak a word, and that worried you. He walked up the steps, and into the house, carrying you directly to his room and into his bathroom. Setting you on the countertop, he dug through the cabinets and pulled out a first aid kit. He cleaned and dressed up your wounds to his best ability - your face would be harder to cover so he disinfected it and left it alone. Lucifer finally gazed into your eyes; his stare was so intense it was hard to gaze back without looking away.

“MC. Are you okay?” You pondered on his words. No, no you were not okay.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, I would never lie.” Tears spilled out of your eyes, it stung your face.

“MC...I need to believe you’ll be okay.” He went to wipe away some tears but you flinched. His hand retracted instantly. “I have to report this to Lord Diavolo.”

“Lord Diavolo? So, that’s why you’re asking if I’m okay?” You scoffed. “I’m perfectly fine.” Pushing him away, you jump off the countertop and head out of his room.

“Wait, MC.”

“What now, Lucifer?” You were exhausted and just wanted to be in the safety of your blankets.

“Why didn’t you transform?”

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buildmeafairytale · 4 years ago

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Orc Boyfriend - Bash

Oh my gosh guys I just hit 160 followers! I honestly didn’t think I would have nearly this many when I made this blog, and I’m so thankful for all those who read and like my stories! Here’s another one featuring a gifted woman and her orc babe. If you like my work, please consider donating to my kofi, it helps me out a lot <3 Also, sorry if you’re seeing this twice, I had to fix the ‘keep reading’ thing so it wouldn’t be so long. NSFW

I was a little girl when I heard the siren’s call. My parents were busy doing anything but watching me, and slipping away was never hard. I followed the voice through the forest near my home, the song notes pulling at me like strings tied around my bones. I saw a woman laid out near a creek, sick and dying. She was singing a mourning song for herself, so I sat with her and tried to offer her any comfort I could. She was scared of dying alone; that much I could tell from her pained wails. So I sat there and held her hand for as long as it took, and she thanked me with a gift. I felt the power come over me, blue lights whirled up my arm and through my body from where my hand was grasping hers. I didn't understand what had happened for a while, but it became impossible to ignore. I would whistle a tune and birds would start to follow me, or I would sing and my parents would suddenly want to spend time with me. I didn’t understand the strength of the power until I started school, though. A boy tried to grab at me and lift up my skirt, and the shrill sound that left me was anything but human. He was on the ground with blood pooling in his ears by the time my mouth sprung shut.

I was more careful after that. Being different in my town is often a death sentence, so I learned to control it and keep this power to myself. I always figured my parents had a hunch, but as they didn’t spend time with me much I was unsure. That was until my parents sold me off, though. Then it was confirmed.

The men came in the middle of the night. They were dirty and unkempt but dressed in good, although mismatched, armor. They probably had a single set of teeth between them all. I heard the commotion and came downstairs.

“Ah good, she’s awake. Go ahead and take her, I have no need for her here.” I heard my father say, his nose upturned and his awful fake accent exaggerated.

I watched my father be paid by them while my mother stood to the side. Her lips were pinched tight but she did not speak up in my defense. I looked back and forth in confusion, still half asleep and not understanding what was happening to me. They stood there by the large french doors, draped in their finery while I was sold like a broodmare.

“She is a monster,” I heard my mother say, “do not be afraid to treat her like one.”

The men went to grab me, but I tried to fight. I squirmed and clawed, and they led me away as I struggled in their grasp. I opened my mouth to scream but I was hit over the back of the head before I could get a sound out.

When I woke up, all I could feel was pain blossoming at the base of my skull. As I got used to the pain, I felt a tender hand brushing the sweat soaked hair off of my forehead. I peeled my eyes open, and as they went into focus I found I was inside of a wooden box, the only sunlight coming in from little gaps between panels. We must have been moving, as I was only slightly aware of the jostling of my head when we hit bumps. The hand was attached to a small orcish girl, still a child. She couldn’t be very old, her tusks were still just nubs peeking out of her lips. It was then I saw her lips moving, the actual words taking longer to get to me.

“Shh are you alright lady? It’s gonna be okay, my papa and uncle are gonna come, I promise. I’m Sheely, and -” her words faded slowly, and I felt myself go unconscious again, her voice luling me out again.

The next time I wake up is to the screams of the girl being held prisoner with me. I awake abruptly, and while I’m still in pain I move quickly. I see a man is trying to drag her out of the box we are in. She is clawing and fighting him with tears rushing down her face. I do not hesitate, and when I hear men comment about ‘breaking her in’ I let out a cry that has them all on their knees. Blood is running out of all the orifices in their head, like tears coming from their eyes, and a few of them have collapsed. Sheely is unharmed by me and my power does not touch her, which I am thankful for. I grab her and start to run. Everything is blurry for me but I know this is my chance to get us out of this. I don’t want to dwell on the intentions of those men, but I know enough to know we would be better off lost in the wilderness.

The orc - Sheely is just a child, though, no matter that orcish children are almost as large as a human teenager. She is panicked from the men trying to hurt her, sobs still leaving her despite the running and she catches her ankle on a root. She falls to the ground, but I waste no time in trying to pick her up. I have not known hard labor in my life and orcish children are not easy to carry, though. I feel the panic rising in my chest, and I hold her to me tightly.

I hear them, then. Some of the men have come after us, and I try to find somewhere to hide the girl. My feet scrape the ground as I try to haul her behind a fallen tree. It is no use, and soon the largest of the men is appearing in front of us. Before I can blink a long whip is wrapped around my arm, bringing us both to the ground. I sing and wail once again but while I can tell he is in pain, it does not stop him. I curse myself now, for ignoring the power I have. If only I had honed it, or practiced more, we could be okay. He backhands me, and I hear a crack.

The pain doesn't knock me out this time, although I wish it had. I am grabbed by the jaw, and I forget all about the pain in my head. Noise leaves me but not enough. and my voice is rendered useless. He glares at me with dark eyes, and all I see is hate in them.

“Are you going to try that again or should I crush your vocal cords too, siren bitch?” Spit flies in my face and I shake my head no to the best of my abilities. He increases his grip on my jaw harder, and if it wasn’t broken before I’m sure it is now. My vision swims with darkness, but I hold on. I won’t leave her alone with them. He lets go and pushes my face away and into the ground.

“Get the fuck up then,” he tells me, and I obey.

We are dragged back to their camp, and I hold onto Sheely. I see several of the men still on the ground before we are thrown back into the wagon. My head hits the wall and I feel the wood splinter into my skin. I manage to position Sheely behind me. I am hopeful that the men are in enough pain to be deterred from their plans with her, but I don’t want to risk not being able to help her if they come back.

I don’t know how long it has been but I have not had food nor water since I was captured. I had never known this kind of pain, this uncomfortable existence, but I refused to let myself succumb to sleep. Instead I spend my time trying to listen to the men and make sure no one was coming to get us

The words I hear from the men outside all melt together and paint an eerie picture of the life waiting for me. I feel as if I am living in a nightmare and just couldn’t make my screams heard or run fast enough to escape. Scenes play out before my eyes of the ways evil people mean to torture me and throw me away once I am used up. I hear screams and anguished cries, but it all fades into the horror playing behind my eyelids. The screaming dies down into a dark silence, and I can hear Sheely yelling from behind me, apparently awake.

The last of my strength I spend covering her body with mine, pushing her further into the corner of our dank wooden prison. The door is ripped apart, and the sun has risen. The light blinds me for a moment, but then a large figure blocks it out. I turn my back to the figure and pull Sheely further underneath me. I don’t feel as though I am long for this world in my current condition, and she is so young. I want to give her a chance.

“Uncle!” I hear Sheely yell this in the back of my mind, and the man yells out for Sheely too. I let go, then. I let go of her, and my will to stay conscious as well. I feel her relief and happy noises all around. I try to soak in her joy as I let go.

I know enough to know I am not dead. I drift in and out, feeling bumps in the roads and rumbling voices around me. Everything hurts enough that I wish I was dead, though. A wish that refuses to come true, as I am suspended in pain for what feels like an eternity.

The fog eventually clears and the heavy scent of medicinal steam hangs in the air. The smell is of a healers den, and if I am right then I am relieved. My vision is blurry but I see a shape run into the den, and Sheely’s voice. It’s the sweet voice of a happy and safe child, and I think I manage a smile. I see another shape duck into the tent behind her, as well as a deep voice coming from beside me. A gnarled and old hand comes into vision as well, holding a cloth to my face. The throbbing of my jaw and head is not gone, but muted. I feel bandages wrapped around my arm and feet as well. A small hand takes hold of mine, and when I fall asleep again I feel calm for the first time in days.

The medicine is strong and leaves me in a daze for a long while, but as I heal they give me less and less, until I am able to understand and remember when people are speaking to me. Ungral, the healer, is a constant companion to me. He explains that Sheely is the much loved daughter of their chief, and I am being honored among the clan.

“Sheely has painted quite the picture of you to us all, calls you a ‘screeching warrior’” Ungral informs me, his lips upturned in amusement.

“Oh goodness, everyone will be so disappointed when they actually see me. I am no warrior, although I did screech quite a bit.” I jest with him.

“Hush child, no one will be disappointed to see the women who took care of our Sheely,” He sets out food in front of me. It is a thick and meaty stew, and I am in heaven from the smell alone.

Sheely visits me everyday before her schooling and often before her bedtime, bringing me snacks and things to do. Her mother and father visited me early in my recovery, but I don’t remember very much. Sheely tells me they are planning a celebration for her return, and that they are waiting until I am recovered since I am an ‘honored guest’. I am grateful for their hospitality, but I feel I have not earned it. All I did was cower with Sheely in a corner while her family saved us both, but I would hate to insult them this way.

The first day Ungral has me leave the tent to walk is more eventful than I like. The moment I leave the hut, orcs are thanking me and introducing themselves left and right. I am friendly and speak to everyone, but it quickly becomes too much for me. Right before I am going to tell Ungral I need a break, Sheely comes running up to me followed by three other orcs. One of which was a woman, in decorative armor and beads woven into her hair. She grabs my hand with tear filled eyes as Sheely hugs my legs.

“Thank you for keeping my daughter safe when I couldn’t,” she tells me. My eyes start to fill as well, just looking at her.

“Of course,” I nod to her, my hands grasping hers back. I am starting to feel dizzy but I dare not disrespect her. One of the orcs with her, the smaller of the two men, comes up to me as well. This is without a doubt the chief. I know little of orcs and their customs, but the beads and armor he wears, as well as the tattoos covering him, seems to indicate this.

“I am Sheelga’s father, and Chief of this clan,” He tells me, his voice loud and clear. “We are all so thankful for you and that you were able to protect her. You will want for nothing here, nor ever again. Be assured that the men who took you are no longer in this world and as soon as you are fully healed, I will have my best warriors escort you home to your family. If there is anything you need, please, just let us know.” He tells me this, and I am reminded that my family is the one who did this to me. I stutter out a thank you and feel my legs shake. Ungral is by my side quickly, the old man more nimble than I assumed.

“Leave the girl alone, just because she is stretching her legs doesn’t mean you can all bombard her,” he waves off the chief and his wife, who just chuckle at him.

“Yes, we will leave you be then. Please, rest and know that you are safe here,” The chief and his wife say goodbye and turn to leave, but Sheely runs into the healing den. Ungral and I follow after her, partially to see what is wrong and partially because my stamina is running too low to do much else. Her parents and the other large orc come into the hut too, and I see Sheely in her usual spot next to the bed with tears running down her cheeks.

Everyone goes over her and when I settle on the bed she hurriedly plasters herself against me. I hold and shush her, and I can make out some words between her broken sobs.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she bawls out, and I immediately start to hold her tighter.

Her father has crouched next to her, and his large hand is splayed on her back. “She has a family too, my heart, and we cannot keep her from them,” he tells her, but I speak up.

“I don’t actually. Well, I suppose I do but they’re the ones who sold me to those men,” my voice wavers as all the eyes turn to me, mixed looks of anger and pity look back at me.

“Then you have to stay here,” Sheely says, her voice firm. I smile at her, but I do not wish to impose on these kind people.

“Now little one, I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” I try to sound cheery, but it really just comes out sad.

“I think I speak for everyone here when I say you should stay,” the other orc speaks up, and I no longer argue. He is the largest being I have ever seen, with dark green skin and long black hair in a single shining braid down his back. He has black swirling tattoos covering a great deal of his arms, and his deep brown eyes lock onto mine. His beauty stops the words from leaving my mouth.

“Yes, brother,” the chief nods at him and turns to me. “You will stay then, it is settled.”

His wife comes to sit by me and I open my mouth but no sounds come out, I just nod and squeeze her hand.

Not soon after this I start to heal more quickly. I am sure this has something to do with the lack of stress I currently have. I am surrounded by kind people who want to help me, and I get to stay. A large feast is held to not only celebrate that Sheely is back, but also to welcome me to the clan. It is loud and boisterous, and copious amounts of ale are consumed. Balo, the Chief, drinks so much in celebration that his wife Lorka is rolling her eyes at him. He is telling old war stories and spinning his daughter around, taking intermediate breaks to remind Lorka how in love with her he is. When he hears me laugh, though, he sends a large grin my way and starts a toast for me. I am embarrassed, but flattered as they raise their glasses to me. I drink some too, but Ungral warns me not to do much since it could interfere with some of the medicine he has given me.

Sure enough, I feel the effects of the alcohol much more strongly than I would have thought, so I go outside to get some space from the crowd. I find a pretty tree nearby and stumble my way over to it. I see Sheely’s uncle leave the great feast hall not long after I do. He looks around until he finds me, then struts toward me.

“Oh, hi! I’m sorry but I don’t think I ever got your name,” I squeak out the words as best I can, hoping I’m not sounding over eager or over drunk. He is large and powerful, and I cannot look away. He makes me feel so small, and it excites something deep within me. My head spins, and I am unsure if it is due to his presence or simply the mead.

“My given name is Rhugro’bash, but Bash is just fine little songbird,” he nods at me and settles onto a stump next to me. He offers me a smile and hands me a plate stacked high with food. “I saw you leave and wanted to make sure you would still eat.”

“Thank you, everyone is so friendly but I’m just not used to such big crowds,” I take the food eagerly, moaning at the flavors. I feel spoiled here, with a beautiful orcish man bringing me delicious food. I open my eyes to see Bash staring at me as I eat, and I almost choke at the look on his face. “Sorry, it’s just so good.”

He throws his head back and lets out a guwaffing laugh. “Well then I am happy to have pleased one as lovely as you.”

He reaches over and pushes a strand of hair behind my ear, and I’m sure he can feel the heat coming off of my face. He stands and leaves quickly after, wishing me a goodnight in his deep rumbling voice. Oh gods, I think to myself, I am going to get myself in trouble with him.

The next morning I wake up to a large breakfast and a flower set out for me. I ask Ungral about it and he laughs, shaking his head at me.

“It seems you’ve caught a certain someone’s attention,” the old man gives me a wry smile, apparently amused by my confusion. He sits across from me with his herbal tea, and passes me a note. It says nothing on it but ‘From Bash’, so it does little to clear things up.

“But...why?”

“The man wants to cook for you,” he shrugs, “wants to see to it you’re fed, and brings a flower? I think you can figure it out,” he chuckles at me then, and leaves me with a meal that was composed of more food than I would be able to eat in days.

Bash comes to visit with Sheely later in the day, who hugs me then promptly goes to hang out with Ungral instead. I thank Bash for breakfast and he goes from a warrior to a puppy in an instant. He lights up and breaks out in a breathtaking smile, the gold bands on his tusks shining brightly. The two of us sit down, and he sees the flower sitting next to my bed. I clear my throat, feeling much more nervous in his presence than the night before when I was emboldened by alcohol.

“I hope it wasn’t too forward of me, songbird. I wasn’t sure how things like this are done where you are from.” He speaks so casually and directly, I am not used to that.

“What kind of things do you mean?”

He reaches over and folds my hand in his, his calloused palms brushing against my skin in the sweetest way. “Romantic type things. I want to court you.”

“Can I ask why?”

He laughs a bit and schooches his chair closer to me, a playful look on his face. He leans closer to me as he speaks, and his proximity makes my head spin. “You are strong, and brave. I like the way you look when I bring you food, and how beautiful you are. You love Sheely, and were ready to lay down your life for her. I cannot think of better traits for a mate.”

My mouth is in an “o” shape, and he leans back with a satisfied look on his face. Sheely comes barreling back in and I am grateful for the distraction.

Bash continues to send food to me, along with little gifts or trinkets. He gives me clothing too, as well as a homemade chest to put everything in. I appreciate it and everything he does makes me feel so special, but I hardly feel as if I deserve it.

One day he comes to take me for a walk, and I voice this to him.

“I really do enjoy everything you do for me, I just feel like I am undeserving of all of it. You spoil me.” He finds a log to sit on, and pulls me to sit on one of his thighs. My arms wind themselves around his neck with his behind my back. The closeness is so effortless for him, it seems, while I feel my heart is going to pump out of my chest.

“Now don’t go feeling guilty, pretty bird. I like doing things for you.” He frowns at me, and makes everything sound so simple.

“I just feel bad I can’t give you anything in return.”

“You give me plenty,” he scoffs, “you gift me your time.”

You huff and adjust yourself on his knee, turning to face him more.

“You give me that too though. I want to give you something and yet all I have are things you have gifted me.” I frown at this realization. They have welcomed me in but I’ve really just free-loaded.

Bash taps a finger to my forehead, startling me out of my thoughts. “I don’t know what’s going on in here, but cut it out. You wanna give me something?” I nod, of course I do. He smiles, almost wicked. “Sing to me, bird. I want to hear it.”

My eyes grow big. Of all things, I was not expecting this.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he says, playing with my hair with an exaggerated pout on his lips.

“I’ll do it for you, I’m just not used to singing nice things. It’s always been a bit of a defense mechanism.” I try to think back to when I was young and would sing to the birds and the flowers. I think about the feelings I have for Bash, the look in his eye when he sees me and the happiness he brings me. I concentrate and let my abilities take over. It’s natural for me, like taking a breath of fresh air after being underwater too long.

My voice sings of a new life, of a gallant rescue. I sing of new feelings and new family, how much more beautiful life is for me now. I sing of new beginnings, of spring. I let my emotions well up then pour out, and I am unsure how long I sing but when I stop he has tears in his eyes.

I reach up to wipe them away, noticing how out of it he looks. He has pulled me much closer to him while I was singing and I am thoroughly pressed against him.

He whispers “thank you.” Bash presses his lips to my brow and we stay like this for quite some time. Once we hear crickets chirping he takes me back to Ungral’s.

The courting gifts start to increase and get larger after this encounter. He insists on cooking almost every meal for me, and I try to squash my feelings of being unworthy. I sing to him occasionally too, since he says it’s one of his favorite things. We often have the healers den to ourselves, since Ungral lives in a separate building behind it. I haven’t been to his house yet, as he said he is in the middle of building onto it.

The first time he kisses me, it is while he is cooking for me. I move to the kitchen to peek at what he is making, and he just leans down and pecks me on the lips. He pulls back and looks shocked at his own actions, and I get to see my great warrior flustered. I give him no chance to apologize. I lift up onto my tippy toes and pull him down, slanting my mouth over his. He holds his arms out awkwardly to the side at first, but soon drops the wooden spoon and kisses me back.

He’s vocal and does not bother to hold in his groans. I pull at him until we are on the cot together, kissing and petting at one another. He moves to my neck, placing wet open mouthed kisses under my ear. The feeling of his tusks brushing against my neck sends chills up my spine. All too suddenly he rips himself off of me, running to the kitchen. The sound of soup boiling over registers and I hop up to help clean up the mess. Bash’s cursing turns into laughter when we look at one another, and I peck his lips again but the heated moment has passed.

I am adamant about giving Bash an actual tangible courting gift, and I ask Ungral about it.

“It’s not frowned upon, if that’s what you mean,” he tells me, showing me how to blend certain medicines. “Not required either, but after one courts you a while giving a gift back is a way to accept the courting or encourage them that you want it to advance.”

Winter is around the corner and Bash told me he has a lot to prepare for with his home, so I try to think of something good to get for him today. I talk to Ungral about this too, but it feels odd talking to him about my romantic life. He is more of a father than mine ever was, and I sense it’s a bit awkward for him as well.

“Take this,” Ungral says, trying to shove a bag of coin in my hand. I push it back at him.

“What, no! What for?” I ask him, “I already live here for free!”

He gives me a flat look in return “You help me with my work and Bash feeds the both of us with his excessive courting meals. I should still pay you for all the work you help me with. Go buy a courting gift and stop fawning, girl.” He turns around and leaves no room for me to argue.

I do want to give something nice to Bash so I take it, but I vow to help Ungral even more to feel as though I earned it. I walk along the shops in the center of the village, and one tent catches my eye. Inside are glittering beads, hair ties, and bottles of oils and soaps resting on shelves. Bash’s hair is beautiful, and he knows it, so this would be perfect. I look along the beads and one instantly catches my eye. It’s a pretty blue bead and dangling on it is a bird. It’s absolutely perfect. I go to pay for the bead and the shop owner wraps it up in a nice box for me. I can’t wait to give it to him, and I hate that I have to wait.

The hours could not go by any slower, but eventually Bash comes by to tell me goodnight. He walks in and kisses me, but I can tell he is tired.

“How was your day songbird?”

I cannot help to smile in excitement, I probably look crazy to him.

“It was good,” I tell him, “I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh really? And what may that be?”

“Sit here and close your eyes! I’ll be right back.” I sit him on the bed and get a sleepy smile in return. I go to get the bead and a snack for him as well. I’m only gone a moment, but when I return he is snoring. My disappointment is fleeting, he looks so sweet like this. I set the box on the table and get to work. I gently peel his shoes off and his more uncomfortable looking clothing as well before tucking him in. The bed is small so I decide to snuggle in, hoping he doesn’t mind the liberty taken.

Bash is warm, and I find it was one of the best night's sleep I’ve had in awhile. We are tangled together in the morning and he is awake before me. A hand is petting my hair, and I just sigh and shove my face more into his chest.

“Sorry I fell asleep,” he whispers to me, and I have never thought him more attractive than now, with his groggy voice in my ear.

“Shh, m’still sleepin,” I mumble into his chest, and get a laugh in return. We bask in the moment before I remember how excited I am, so I just roll over and hand him the box, jolting up to give it to him.

“Open it,” I encourage, and he purposefully goes slowly.

When he sees it he gasps, and I feel like I’ve done well. I realize why he enjoys doing things for me so much now. His excitement and happiness when he holds it up is my new favorite look for him. He has me braid the bead into his hair, and the blue is a stark contrast to his dark hair.

“I have something for you as well, my songbird,” Bash gestures to his satchel, and I hand it to him. He digs around, and then presses a key into my hand. It takes a moment for my brain to catch up. I look at the key then back at Bash for a minute before it sinks in.

“You want me to...live with you?”

“Yes, I can’t think of anything I would want more,” he admits to me.

“I don’t need an answer right away,” he continues, one of his large hands caressing the side of my face. “Just...come by tonight if you decide to, otherwise I will see you in the morning and we can take things as slowly as you wish.” He kisses my stunned face and goes to walk away, apparently nervous for your reaction.

I grab him before he makes his way out.

“Bash!” I stop him, and pull him down near me. “I’ll see you tonight,” I whisper in his ear, planting a kiss underneath. I can practically feel the chill that runs through him, but I usher him out anyway. I’ve never been to his house before, and wasn’t even sure where to go. I talk to Ungral a bit before I pack up my things. I leave most everything there for now, as my chest and other things are too heavy for me alone. I then go to visit his sister-in-law’s house for a bit of help.

Later that night I walk up the cobble pathway in nothing but the silk nightdress Lorka has given me. My hair is down, and I feel every bit the siren I have been accused of being. The home is beautiful under the moonlight and the colors seem vibrant bathed in the blue of the night. Fireflies dance over the pond and the stone house is reflected in its depths. I open the heavy door and all the breath leaves my body.

Bash is waiting for me in the home he has built for us in nothing but his loincloth. He stands proud and tall in front of me. Deep rumbles of desire come from his chest and mix with the sounds of the crackling fire; it is the most beautiful melody I have ever been lucky enough to hear. The fire gives his skin an otherworldly gleam and he looks every part the formidable warrior he is known to be. My formidable warrior, now. I walk toward him as if I am a newborn deer and I fear he can hear my knees knocking together, but one of his hands reaches out to steady me.

His hand moves up my arm while his other goes around my waist, pulling me against him. His warm skin quells a shaking chill I didn’t know I had, and I let myself melt into him. He has barely touched me and I feel as though I’ve run miles.

“Let me take you to our bed, my songbird,” he says, and I nod my head. My eyes are wide gazing up at him and Bash smiles down at me. He bends down and lifts me up a bit to close the gap to place a soft kiss on my lips. His tusks brush against my cheeks and I gasp. He suddenly places his hands on my bottom and pulls me up with my legs around him. I squeal out a laugh and the nervousness is broken.

He gives kisses and raspberries all over my neck and chest as he walks me to the bedroom. I squirm and laugh, and my hand ends up in Bash’s hair. I give it a tug and am rewarded with a playful growl as he tosses me onto the bed. The bed he has crafted is beautiful, and I am once again lost in his duality. He is a powerful warrior who can wield his warhammer like no other, and yet he created and carved the delicate wooden features adorning our headboard. He seems hard on the outside, so intimidating and yet he kisses me so softly.

He climbs up with me and pulls my legs on either side of his hips, perched up on his knees. My hand splays across his stomach and I feel the muscle there, covered in a layer of softness that makes me find him all the more appealing. I gawk at him, tracing the tattoos and scared planes of his body.

“See something you like?” His large hands run over my thighs, the fingertips dipping under my nightdress on each pass.

“I see a lot I like,” I quietly admit, finally lifting my gaze to meet his. A pleased sound leaves him. He kisses me and pulls me even closer, so much so that the heat between my thighs settles on his manhood. I can’t help but grind myself into him.

“I want to make you sing for me,” He tells me, and he slinks down the bed. I push myself up onto my elbows and watch his broad shoulders push apart my thighs. I can feel a deep throbbing in my core, and I gasp when his fingers trace the lines of my underclothes. His other hand moves upward and settles on my stomach before he pulls my underwear aside.

His warm breath washes over me, and he places the gentlest of kisses around the apex of my thighs before licking a broad stripe along my folds. I fall back onto the bed writhing , my hands digging into the sheets. He starts to lick and kiss at my clit, and a strong finger finds its way to my entrance. My back arches and a moan leaves me at the pleasure he is giving. His other hand wanders up the bed to meet one of mine, untangling my fingers that were clutching the sheets. As his finger pumps into me in time with his mouth moving on my clit I cannot hold in my noises.

“Bash, please,” I moan out to him, unsure what I am asking him for. His answering rumble vibrates through me and his tusks start to dig into my soft flesh. He adds another finger and I feel myself quickly tighten around them. The crooking of his fingers and the pressure on my clit increases and a knot builds in my stomach. The noises leaving me increase as well, but everything quiets the moment that I find my release. Fireworks go off behind my eyes, my legs tighten around his head and my hips jerk. He sounds like a man feasting, grunts and groans leaving his mouth. He does not relent until I am jerking away from the stimulation with a whimper, the ecstasy too much.

“Bash, c’mere,” I pull at his shoulders, my request coming out a breathless whine. When he looks up at me he is debauched. His eyes are full of desire and my wetness covers his mouth and chin. As he moves up my body, he pulls my underclothes off of me as well.

“Did you enjoy me, my songbird?” He inquires, laying kisses up my arm as sparks continue to dance on my skin. I give a breathy yes in response to him. I reach my hands out to pull him down over me, and his arousal is evident as it presses into my stomach. I arch into it and my desire is reborn. I reach down and run my fingers along his shaft over the loincloth still covering him. I pull at the edges of the cloth and it falls down, releasing his heavy cock.

I feel my mouth water at the sight of it. It hangs beneath its own weight, and I bring my hand up to hold it. The hot flesh pulses in my hand, and I feel my entrance pulse in answer. It’s an even darker green than the rest of him, and more tattoos swirl near the base of it. Fluid leaks out of the tip, and I run my fingers over it, coating the head. When I look back at Bash’s face, I am not disappointed. His eyebrows are knitted together and his eyes are dark with want. I hold his gaze and give a tentative stroke, letting his hips jerk into my hand. My other hand comes up to caress his heavy sack, gently massaging him in time with the strokes.

“Fuck, I’m going to come from your hands alone if you don’t stop that, woman,” he snarls out, but I only slow down my efforts.

“Don’t you want to?” I ask him sweetly, leaning up to kiss his neck.

“Minx,” he scolds me in good nature, then leans down to snarl darkly in my ear. “I want to feel you come around my cock when I release. I want to fill you up so much you leak my seed for days, and any Orc who comes near you will smell my claim on you.”

His words alone cause a whimper to leave my mouth. “Please,” I breath out, wanting nothing more than for that to come true. He strips me of my nightdress, and I take his hands in mine and pull him back with me on the bed, curling one of my legs over his hip. His cock runs through my folds, my wetness coating him, before he notches the head at my entrance. He sucks and licks at my tits before smoothly thrusting into me, my nails coming up to dig into his back. My cunt is tightly wrapped around him, every vein of his cock pulsing inside me. He is so much bigger than me in every way, and I’m surprised he fits inside of me without pain. The stretch is uncomfortable at first, but soon fades as my pleasure crests.

“Look how well you take me, songbird. Will you sing to me again?” He punctuates this with a hard thrust, and I let out a long moan. I feel my power imbed itself into my voice, but I cannot help it. Tendrils of my magic reach out and touch him, caressing his skin and coaxing out more desire with my noises. His movements speed up, and I hear grunts leave him. Bash brings his face to my chest, growling into it. Pleasure builds in me again, and as I wail out my climax Bash follows me. He buries himself deep within me and pumps me full of his seed as he promised, his hands holding tight to my sides.

Fucked out mewls escape my lips and Bash coos down at me, praises passing through his lips. He gently rolls off of me and lays beside me.

“You’ve conquered me, my songbird. I don’t think I can feel my legs,” he teases, petting me sweetly as I come down from my high. He manages to clean us up before he throws blankets over us both. As I’m drifting off, I feel a kiss to my forehead and Bash mumbles to me.

“I can’t wait to cook for you in the morning, my love.”

#orc #orc boyfriend #orc x reader #orc x human #monster #monster boyfriend #female reader x male monster #female reader #monster lover #exophilia #orcs #i love orcs #my writing #bash x reader #bash

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electrictoes · 4 years ago

Text

Light the Dark

For @dailysvu‘s Sonny Carisi Appreciation Week

Prompt: Day 6: Nightmare

When Sonny is eight he starts getting a recurring nightmare. It’s an awful, twisted memory of the summer just gone by.

The dream starts just like his memory. They’re at the beach. Mama left Teresa in charge while she went back to their rented beach house to start cooking dinner; Daddy - Dad, Sonny corrects himself in his memory, he’s not a baby anymore - has gone into town to get their fourth of July fireworks; Sonny had asked to go with him but Dad said he had to look after your sisters, Junior.

Teresa isn’t doing a very good job of being in charge; she’s sunbathing with one eye open so she can check if the lifeguard is watching her. The lifeguard isn’t watching Teresa because he’s watching two older girls sunbathing up the beach, but since Teresa’s about to start high school she doesn’t much listen to anything Sonny has to say. She calls him Dominick like Sonny is a baby name and tells him to go away.

Gina’s made friends with some other kids. She does that everywhere they go; she's playing volleyball and ignoring her brother and sisters. And so it’s just Sonny and Bella.

The problem is Bella can’t swim. She thinks she can but she’s no good at it. Dad says she’s gonna have to learn because they live on an island, but Mama says it doesn’t really count. In Sonny’s real memory when Bella runs into the sea and gets caught in a wave he’s quick - he swims right out after her because the lifeguard is still not watching the ocean, and he swallows so much water he’s still coughing it up hours later, but he manages to grab hold of Bella before she goes under the water - and the bigger kids Gina's been playing with see them, and they swim out to help them back to shore. Teresa yells at Sonny and Bella, and then Mama yells at Teresa, and then Dad yells at everyone.

In his real memory he wakes up in the middle of the night and his chest still feels tight from all the coughing, but when he opens his eyes and looks across the little room he’s sharing with Bella, she’s fast asleep with her bunny rabbit tucked up under her head and he knows she’s okay.

That’s not what happens in the nightmare.

In the nightmare when the wave gets Bella he’s not quick enough. There aren’t any bigger kids nearby and he sees Bella slip under the water before he can reach her. In the nightmare he tries to get to her but everything goes black, and cold, and he can feel hands on his legs dragging him down, down, down into the water.

When he wakes up he screams. Screams loud enough to wake the whole house up and the first time it happens Dad comes running in with a baseball bat like he’s going to beat Sonny’s nightmare with it. Mama’s right behind him, and when Dad drops the bat she pushes past him, sitting on Sonny’s bed and brushing his sweat soaked hair back from his forehead. She kisses him and asks him what happened while Dad sends the girls back to bed.

He doesn’t stop getting the nightmare for almost a full year - a year of his parents whispering things like therapy when they think he’s not listening, of Mama soothing his tears and kissing his hair, of Dad telling him it’s time to grow up a little, and Gina saying he’s too old to be this dumb. Dad only lets him get in their bed the first couple of times - after that he says Sonny’s got to learn to manage. Sometimes when he wakes up from the nightmare he sneaks across the hall to remind himself that Bella’s okay, and if she spies him she’ll creep past Gina’s bed to give him a hug. She tells him he’s the best big brother in the world and he swells with pride every time, even though Bella only has one big brother so she wouldn’t know any different.

He gets the nightmare occasionally for the next couple of years, but as the memory of that day at the beach fades, so do the dreams; by the time he’s in middle school he’s stopped getting nightmares altogether. At least until Bobby Bianchi decides to use his head as a wrecking ball.

The cuts and bruises heal much faster than the rest of him. He has nightmares about Bobby Bianchi for far longer than he ever had nightmares about that day at the beach. Sometimes the two nightmares combine and the hands that are dragging Sonny down to the ocean floor belong to Bobby; the cruel way he’d laughed as Sonny fell to the ground echoing in his ears.

His father had been so disappointed in the aftermath of the window incident that Sonny doesn’t dare tell him about the nightmares. He doesn’t tell his mom either, because she was already so worried about him, had struggled to hold back tears as she helped clean his blood away. He doesn’t tell anyone - not even Bella - because the first time he’s ripped from sleep by the nightmare he can hear his parents talking quietly downstairs - he tiptoes down carefully, just wanting the comfort of seeing his mom even though he’s too old to ask for a hug, for her to tuck him back into bed.

He stops three steps from the bottom of the stairs when he hears his name, and he listens with his fists clenched, his bottom lip between his teeth. “He’s too sensitive,” Dad is saying, “That’s why these kids pick on him.”

“Dominick, that’s not fair,” Mom says back in a hushed whisper, “We raised him to be a good kid, a sweet, kind child. That doesn’t mean that-” he hears his mother choke on her words, can tell that she’s crying, and he takes a guilty step back up the stairs, shuffling away but staying in earshot as his father comforts her.

“He’s gonna be just fine,” his dad says, “But we’ve gotta toughen him up a bit. It’s my fault, three sisters, I should’ve seen this coming. I’ll speak with him.”

Sonny slips back into his own bed and holds his anxieties in, keeps his nightmares to himself.

Two days later his dad sits him down - man to man - and talks to him about toughening up a little, growing a thicker skin. He asks again who pushed Sonny through the window and Sonny knows he’s disappointed when he doesn’t get an answer. He swallows down his fear, his discomfort, and tells his father he’ll handle it. It’s years before they’re back on the same page again.

When the nightmares come he holds back screams, buries his tears in his pillow as he cries himself to sleep. His mother frets - thinks he’s not sleeping enough, staying up too late - he’s not eating properly, she says, shuffling him into the kitchen, making him stand by her side as she prepares spaghetti sauce and meatballs and a dozen other recipes he commits to memory watching her hands move, waiting for her to shove a plate in front of him to reassure herself she’s doing something to help.

After a time, much like before, the nightmares trickle away. Never entirely, though. It’s long after middle school that he stops dreaming about Bobby Bianchi - though the nightmares don’t bite at his adult self in the same way, he’s still thrown awake well into his college years, that laughter ringing in his ears.

Becoming a police officer, then a detective, he sees things. Sometimes he sees the worst of humanity and it can leave him fraught, on edge. He’s worked hard at setting his emotions aside at the end of the day, but there are some sights you can’t unsee, and some images that won’t leave his head. When he closes his eyes at night there are cases that haunt him, that have him waking up in a cold sweat and struggling to catch his breath.

Early on he gets a domestic disturbance call that he’ll remember for the rest of his life - Ellen Carter’s face lingers in his mind, the way he had tried to persuade her to get out of that house, leave her husband. The way she looked, blooded and beaten, her skull smashed in and her body slumped over by the wall. He wakes up every night for a week with the image of her eyes in his head and he has to shake himself, roll over and try and get back to sleep. His sergeant tells him he looks like hell, that whatever’s going on in his personal life he can’t bring it to work with him. It’s like he’s desensitised, and Sonny will take the dark nights over that any day.

He makes detective and he works homicide. It’s worse. There’s not just one Ellen Carter, there’s dozens. It gets harder and harder and though he doesn’t have any one recurring nightmare, he never goes long between episodes of waking up and remembering their faces.

So he moves to SVU - he wants to make a difference before it’s too late. But SVU brings its own dark cases, it’s own haunting images. It’s at SVU that he starts to pick up real nightmares again, not just flickering images. The cases and the heartbreak, they still get him, but it’s his own experiences that follow him into his dreams.

He takes Mike Dodds’ death hard and it’s the first time in years that he’s had the kind of nightmares that dig deep into his consciousness. He replays his imagined memory of the scene in his head - the way Mike got shot, how he faded from life; and some nights it isn’t Mike - some nights Sonny’s the one who got shot and he’s lying bleeding on the ground and plunged into darkness, unseen hands grasping at him. Those nightmares are hard - but the kind that leave him biting back a scream are the nightmares where Mike is replaced with someone else - with Fin, or Olivia, or Amanda, and those dreams having him clawing at his bedsheets, grabbing at his phone on the nightstand, his thumb inches away from calling to check in - to reassure himself that they’re okay.

He only make a call once, and only because he has a text from Amanda sent thirty minutes before - Jesse’s cutting a new tooth and it’s keeping both her and Amanda awake. He’s breathless when he greets her, enough that she catches it even over the phone.

“Carisi? Where are you?”

“In bed,” he says, sitting upright, a hand in his damp hair, heart still hammering in his chest.

Amanda’s suspicious, and he’d laugh if he wasn’t already so off-kilter, “Why are you calling me from your bed?”

“I- I can’t sleep,” he admits.

“Are you okay?”

There’s something about the way her tone shifts - something about Amanda Rollins in general - that makes it easy for him to tell her. Maybe in person he would hold back a little more, but she can’t see his face and he’s still shaking, “I- not really. I’ve been havin’-”

“Nightmares?” she finishes, her voice soft down the line. It’s the first time since he was nine years old that he’s let someone else into this part of his life. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Nah,” he says, and he means it - just knowing he’s told her is soothing in itself, “I just- wanted to know you an’ Jesse were okay.”

She hums down the phone, offers to distract him, and he falls asleep sometime later to the sound of Amanda settling Jesse. He sleeps through the rest of the night. The dreams don’t go away altogether, but they fade with time.

When Tom Cole puts a gun to Sonny’s head it ends with him dead on the floor, Sonny spattered with his blood, and he keeps it together. In the dark of his bedroom hours later he awakes choking with fear. He had thought his number was up, and that feeling doesn’t go away, not for months.

There are other incidents, too - when Tom Williams falls to his death before Sonny can pull him back over the railings, when Jules Hunter is killed in a deliberate car crash - case after case, victim after victim. Things that happen to his friends and colleagues too - when Barba gets death threats, when Noah is kidnapped, when Liv is held hostage, and when Bucci takes Amanda. He puts so much energy into moving on, focusing on other things, that it’s only natural the thoughts he doesn’t process creep into his dreams.

He handles it though - the dreams never become what they were when he was a child, never take over his sleep every night. He doesn’t need to be comforted, has learned to shrug them off and go back to sleep. He almost always only gets those kind of dreams when he is alone, and on the rare occasions there is another body beside him in his bed when he sits bolt upright, shaking with terror, he always downplays it - a bad dream, something that happened on a case once. Nothing to worry about.

It’s almost cruel that his old dream comes back to haunt him just as his waking life becomes everything he’s wanted it to be for so long. The first time he startles awake in Amanda’s bed he hopes it’s a fluke - just one of those days something in his subconscious has triggered this old memory. When Amanda blinks up at him, he tells her he’s fine - says he woke up with heartburn though he knows she doesn’t believe him. He doesn’t want to tell her what happened in his dream - the way it wasn’t Bella being swept under the waves, but Jesse. The way it wasn’t him being dragged down but Amanda.

After the third night in a row of the old nightmare twisting - this time it’s Billie being caught in the waves, Sonny unable to catch her in time - the third night of Amanda catching him awake, a new excuse on his tongue each time - a distraction in the form of his mouth on hers, his hands sliding beneath the blankets; losing himself in her at the same time he steers her away from what had woken him - Sonny decides to sleep alone, to go back to his own apartment and hope this string of nightmares run their course.

It doesn’t help. Two nights without Amanda and he’s had even less sleep than the three previous.

She frowns at him over his office desk as she hands him a coffee, and she takes the seat opposite without him offering. “Alright, Counsellor, what’s going on?”

“What? Nothing.”

“Are you gonna come home with me tonight?” she asks, leading him into the conversation.

He shrugs, “I don’t know, I- I got a lot to catch up on.”

“I’d say you were avoiding me,” she says, leaning forward on his desk, “But I don’t think that’s it.”

He shakes his head, “Never.”

“So if it’s not me, then what? The girls?”

“No,” he insists, surprised she’d even suggest it, “I thought you might want some space.”

“And instead of asking me you go home alone and what - lie awake all night? Because you look like you haven’t slept in a minute,” she reaches across the table, curling her fingers around his, “Carisi, what is it?”

“I’ve just been- I didn’t wanna keep wakin’ you up.”

“You know,” she says, her thumb rubbing back and forth across his hand, “I get nightmares too.”

He sighs, hesitating before telling her the whole story, starting with his original nightmare and talking her through his recent dreams - the conversation takes far longer than either of their lunch breaks should have, but once he starts talking he can’t seem to stop, after holding all of this in for as long as he has.

The nightmares don’t just stop. Being in love with Amanda Rollins makes almost all of Sonny’s life a little brighter, brings a little more light into his days and his nights, but love isn’t a cure all and childhood night terrors don’t go away just because your days are filled with happiness - with sleepy morning kisses, children giggling over breakfast, and sneaking coffee breaks together - with Amanda’s head against his chest on the couch, the way Jesse has started to copy the things he says while they cook, and the times Billie falls asleep on his knee before he’s even halfway through her bedtime story - the nights still grow dark.

The difference now - the difference from every nightmare he’s had since he was nine years old - is that when he wakes gasping into the night, unwanted images assaulting his dreams and corrupting his memories, there’s a soft voice in his ear, and arms curled around him; there are reassurances and promises and hands holding his.

His nightmares slip away after a few weeks - not gone forever, but they become less frequent, less draining. Amanda gets nightmares too - he soothes her through them just as tenderly as she does for him. They’ve both seen things. They both have memories they wish they didn’t. But they have each other.

#carisi week #svu #svu fic #rollisi fic #rollisi #sonny carisi #my fic

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forthehpfanboys · 4 years ago

Text

Not Going Anywhere

Pair: Hermione Granger x Reader; he/him.

Summary: You’ve kept a pretty big secret from your bird for a while, but what happens when you end up revealing it on one fate filled night where she sees it first hand?

Warnings: Blood mentions, fluffy!

Notes: Requested! Hope you enjoy! Lowkey cringey but-

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

Red.

All you saw was blood red.

Red and shadows of moving figures. You couldn’t make out what body belonged to what name or remember your own to be fair. You growled, snarled, hissed, everything under the sun yet the figures stepped closer. You just wanted to be alone. It was so cold.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, your ears were ringing. Everything hurt, everything was throbbing. You felt lost, confused and in pain. You were hurt. You were bleeding and vulnerable and that leads to more bleeding and more vulnerable. All and all, you were scared and running purely off instinct at this point.

“It’s ok.” A distorted female voice whispered. It was vaguely familiar but so far away. The idea of familiarity left as quickly as it came. You bared your teeth once more before taking off, leaving a trail of red behind you.

Hermione stepped forward carefully. She reached out slowly, making sure not to make any sudden movements. She knew deep down you weren’t going to recognize her and it broke her heart a little. She didn’t flinch when your ears rolled back and your sharp teeth made themselves known.

“It’s ok.” She spoke up gently. The young witch wanted to believe you wouldn’t hurt her, but you already had. You’d slashed across her arm, not too deep, but deep enough to cause it to throb and bleed.

Why didn’t you tell her? She could’ve helped, they all could have, instead you hit it from everyone. Why did she have to find you like this? Covered in blood, cuts and mud, howling at the full moon. Hermione almost ran after you when you darted off into the woods, instead she just glanced down at the ground, shifting her weight. She glanced back up, her eyes glistening with tears in the moonlight as she watched you retreat into the forbidden forest.

“He’ll come back, Mione.” Ron spoke softly, resting a hand against her shoulder. She didn’t try to stop him when he pulled her into a hug. Harry rubbed her back while she hid in her friend's chest. She didn’t want to look at the red anymore. She held her arm tightly into her chest, hoping the bleeding would stop. It was throbbing again.

“Come on. Let’s get you to the hospital wing.” Harry gently guided the crying girl back to the castle while Ron lagged, keeping a watchful eye out for you. They were all hoping their friend would be ok.

Your eyes slowly opened, revealing patches of green and brown. The morning air was crisp and sharp against your bare skin, causing you to curl up to try to gain warmth. You knew what happened, of course you did. It happens anywhere from one to three times a month, it was almost always the same. You didn’t want to look at the damage.

You pulled yourself up, looking down at your bare frame. Your eyes focused on the bruises, the blood covering your body. You must’ve fought something, something big and won. There was so much red though, you looked like a beast. You felt like a beast.

“(Y/n)?” A soft voice called out, echoing in the nearly empty woods. You jumped, trying your best to find some piece of clothing to use to cover yourself. The voice was familiar. Was that Harry?

“Mr.(Y/n)?” A slightly louder voice called out. It sounded like Professor Lupin.

“I’m over here!” you called out weakly, your voice cracking in the middle. You stayed seated on the ground, covering your lap with your ripped up shirt. It did the job.

Soon, Lupin and Harry pushed through the foliage in front of you. Harry smiled and hurried over to you, quickly kneeling beside you to drape his school rone over your bare shoulders. Lupin sighed in relief when he noticed you were only covered in bruises and no major cuts.

“Merlin’s beard, (Y/n)! We were scared you were gone for good! We’ve been looking for you all morning!” Harry spoke out. “Mione’s been freaking out since last night!”

The mention of your girlfriends name made fuzzy images flash across your eyes, but nothing was clear. You furrowed your eyebrows, your hands grasping the edges of the robe to pull it closer around you.

“What happened?” You looked at Harry before turning to Lupin, then the grass in shame. If there was anyone you should’ve told, it was Lupin. He would’ve understood and helped all without judgement.

“You went werewolf in the middle of the dining hall.” Harry spoke slowly, but was quick to clarify when your head snapped up and looked at him with wide eyes. “You didn’t hurt anyone! Everyone was ok. Well kinda..”

“Kinda?” Your expression shifted into a deeper version of worry.

“While almost everyone was ok, Miss. Grange-”

“Oh, Godric! I killed her, didn’t I?!” You covered your face with the hood of the robe. You felt tears welling up in your eyes before you could process anything else. You felt like a monster. “What? No! She’s-”

“Paralzied? Decapitated? Half eaten? What? What did I do to her?!” Your heart ached at the mere idea of laying a finger let alone a claw on her. She didn’t deserve whatever you put her through. She was alway beside you, even if you kept this huge secret from you… Wait, would she wanna be with you?

Lupin could tell from how your breathing was picking up that you were spiraling down a dark path. He sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out what was left of his chocolate bar. “I’m gonna start asking Dumbledore to give you guys more chocolate. This is running me dry.” Lupin tried to joke as he rested a hand on your shoulder. “Listen,” Lupin shoved the chocolate into your hands while Harry rubbed your back. “Are you listening?” He didn’t continue until you nodded your head and were nibbling on the chocolate. “She’s ok. It was just a scratch. She didn’t even need stitches.”

You felt relief flutter through you. You leaned back against the tree, a hand coming to rest over your heart.

“Oh, thank Merlin. I was so scared..” Suddenly you sat up again, looking between them. “Wait, where is she?” You pulled the robe around you tighter before you stood up, making sure it covered you.

“She’s in the dorms-” Harry motioned back toward the castle with his thumb.

“Then that’s where I’m going.” You stepped between them and began heading the direction they came from.

“I don’t think so, Mr. (L/n). You’ve been out all night doing who knows what. First, you’re going to the hospital wing to get checked out.” Lupin stepped in front of you, effectively blocking your path. “She can wait.”

“But-”

“No buts. You’re going whether I have to escort you or carry you there.” The ex-marauder crossed his arms over his chest. With a sigh and a nod, you followed the student and the teacher through the forbidden forest and to the castle. Once the three of you entered the giant school, Harry separated to bring you clothes from the dorm while Lupin all but dragged you to the hospital wing.

Lupin pushed open the thick wooden door, respectfully calling out for the nurse in the empty room. He wondered about, looking for the women to get you checked out while you picked a bed. Most of them were empty anyway and Lupin trusted you wouldn’t run off.

You sat down on one of the many neatly made hospital beds, still covering yourself in Harry’s robe. Your eyes traced along the bricks created the towering walls and the wooden beams holding the ceiling together. You jumped when Madam Pomfry spoke up.

“Do you remember anything, love?” She asked as she walked over to you, slowly pulling the curtain across the room, separating you from anyone you may be coming or going while you’re here.

“No, ma’am. Only vague shapes. Did uh- Did Profe-”

“Yes. He told me. I wish I’d known sooner, I’d made sure Snape gave you wolfsbane.” She sighed. “Any bleeding? Intense pain?” She asked as she went to the little table beside the bed, pulling out a few potions while checking labels. “Just some bruising, no bleeding I think.” You kinda patted yourself down, checking your dirt covered hands for any hints of the red substance.

“Alright. I’ll give you a potion for the bruises, dear, but I expect you to take it easy until they have all faded.” She pushed a potion viel into your shaky hand, a soft smile across her face.

“Yes, ma’am. Do I have to take it easy in here or can I do it in my dorm?”

“I know you're eager to see your bird, so just take the veil, get dressed, catch your bearings and you may leave.”

You took the potion before she even finished speaking. A simple yes would’ve done it. You handed her the veil back, smiling and showing you truly swallowed the connotation before she left the room, pulling the curtain shut once more. You kicked your dangling feet in a random pattern as you waited for your clothes and the potion to kick in. It wasn’t long before Harry came rushing into the room, Ron and Hermione behind him of course.

“(Y/n)! I brought your uniform!” Harry’s arm shot through the separation of the curtains, showing your neatly folded uniform laying in his palm. You laughed a little before taking it.

“Thanks, mate. I owe you.” You sighed out, wiping off Harry’s now dirty robe and throwing it haphazardly over the curtain, laughing a little louder when Ron let out a squeaky ‘bloody hell!’. You guessed it landed on him. “Sorry, Ron!”

You didn’t even get to pull your shirt on properly before Hermione busted through the curtains and into your arms. You hugged her tightly, your arms wrapped around her waist as she leaned into you. She let out a sigh as you burrowed your nose into her messy hair, relaxing when the scent of her shampoo hit you.

“Godric, I thought you were dead.” She whispered before looking up at you. Her honey brown eyes shimmered up at you, leaving you almost breathless. What actually left you breathless was how those eyes suddenly hardened. “I thought you were dead, you idiot!” She shoved you back onto the bed, her hands going through her messy locks. “Why the bloody hell didn’t you tell me?! I could’ve helped!”

You didn’t notice Lupin walk by the curtain and immediately turn around. He was not here for the teenage drama. Ron and Harry winced at her yelling. Everyone in the castle knew how scary the muggle born can be when she’s pissed.

“I’m sorry, doll!” You spoke up, hands up in defense when Hermione grabbed the pillow and raised it above her head before hitting you with it.

“Do you not trust me enough to tell me?” She hit you with the fluffy feathered fiend before continuing. “Is that it?” The pillow hit you a third time.

“What?! No, of course I trust you!”

“Then why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!” She rarely swore like that, so you knew it was serious. You swiped the pillow before she could hit you a fourth time.

“I was scared!” Your shout echoed in the empty hall. You pulled the pillow into your chest before looking down at the floor. “I was scared I’d lose my friends. I was scared I’d lose you. I didn’t want you to see me the way I see me..” You set the pillow down on your lap. You could feel your friends staring at you.

“A.. And how, exactly, do you see yourself?” Hermione's voice was soft, like she already knew the answer. Hell, she probably already did. No one would be surprised.

“Like a monster..” You felt the bed sink down next to you. You didn’t need to look over to know your girl was sitting next to you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just.. I couldn’t lose you.” You cringed down at the pillow when your voice cracked. You sounded so weak and pathetic and- The thoughts stopped when Hermione grabbed your chin and directed your gaze to her soft eyes again.

“You are anything but a monster. You can’t control this, (Y/n). We’ll work around this, I mean, come on. We work around Snape everyday, don’t we?” She gave you a hope filled smile as she scooted closer, her hand now coming to rest against your cheek. You leaned into the touch, your eyes closing.

“Yeah, yeah we do.” You let out a soft chuckle, the sound barely audible compared to the pin drop silence.

“And besides, Harry and Ron would be nothing without us.”

“Hey!” The two boys in question shouted.

“Hush, you know it’s true.” Hermione giggled, leaning into your side. You kissed her head as your arm wrapped around her waist, trying to pull her as close as possible.

“I love you.” You whispered into her hair while Harry and Ron were arguing over who was the most helpful in the group of four.

“I love you more.” The brunette whispered back, her hand landing on yours. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

#hermione granger x male reader #hermione granger imagine #hermione granger #hp imagine #hp x male reader #male reader #harry potter #ron weasley #x male reader #Ronny Writes #fic #hp male fic #hp fic

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notfeelingthyaster · 4 years ago

Text

Imagine (based on the incomplete fanfic Son of the Underworld) (Son of Hades! Percy AU) (5/5) or (5/10)

Hey so, this is the last part of PJO - I follow into HOO, so before you read this, check on the masterpost - and read the warnings before proceeding :)) Good reading!

Annabeth comes to him, at the end of his fifteenth birthday party, and shows her Daedalus laptop. There's a document open in it, and it's labeled Achilles' Curse.

Percy doesn't read it - he hates reading, in any way or form or language - but she does, out loud.

"I'll think about it"

They have a year. Most of them, even those who aren't year-rounders, are going back to camp, to draw battle plans and stock on the armory.

He feels kinda selfish - for a whole five seconds before he remembers he'll probably die next summer, so he just shrugs it off - Percy deserves this year.

They all leave to go back to camp. Nico seems conflicted over something - but Perseus doesn't question it, there's enough bad blood between them.

Paola is really cool - and Sally really loves her. It's kind of bizarre at first, to see his Mom dating his teacher - and of a subject he hates - but Paola is calm and well-tempered and she laughs at his stupid ass jokes.

He visits Persephone afterward - and it really feels like he has three moms to fulfill his lack of a father - well, he is absolutely grateful for the women in his life.

Percy isn't truly in good terms with his father. The man doesn't really seem to care much for him as a person - he is much more of a trophy son.

Perseus loathes being a trophy son, but at least he has someone to help with his powers - not something a lot of half-bloods can claim.

So he goes back to school with Rachel, and they pretend everything is normal. He tells her about his quests - all three of them. He thinks she understands him better now.

He opens up to her. Tells her about Annabeth - the adrenaline-fueled kiss - and Rachel stops talking with him for a week.

She apologizes when she comes back. She needed to figure some things up - firstly, the redhead tells him she is probably asexual - and maybe aromantic too, but she is not certain because the internet wasn't really clear about that.

Then Rachel confesses that she is not jealous of him in a romantic way - she is envious of his friendship with Annabeth. Percy is her first genuine friend that really appreciates her.

This is the first grudge Perseus lets go for real before it even takes place - Rachel didn't leave him because of teenage drama, she ignored him out of confusion. Everyone is allowed space - he knows this better than anyone.

They don't kiss anymore. Not because Rachel doesn't like it - no, she is all for it - but because Percy is starting to think kisses should mean something - he is saving them.

They kiss once - when Rachel father calls for the first time this year - not to ask about her, but to tell Rachel he found this amazing all-girls school. To Percy, kisses mean comfort.

They cuddle a lot, though. These past few years of fear have made Percy very touch-starved.

It's sophomore year - and Percy is in five AP classes: Macroeconomics&Microeconomics, Statistics, Calculus AB, Physics 1, and Comparative Government and Politics.

He is planning on taking both AP Computer Science classes, Psychology, Physics 2, and Calculus BC next year; leaving only Electricity&Magnetism, Mechanics, Chemistry, and World History for his senior year.

If he lives, he is working on a tight schedule here. He doesn't know what he wants yet - and if he is in constant danger, it's already pretty lucky he can do high school - but probably something with Math.

Rachel says fourteen AP courses are ambitious - that he'll burn out. But math comes to him easily enough - it's in his blood.

She is also overworking: She is taking AP Environmental Studies, Art History, Drawing, 2-D Art and Design, and English Literature and Composition.

They complete each other. Rachel is planning on taking as many Art, History, and English courses as she can - he is taking as many Physics, Math, and Science as he can handle.

(She is also going to take on Japanese studies for some reason - probably for her GPA, but Perseus just teases her that she is getting too invested in anime)

Perseus doesn't care about languages anymore - the only languages that matter to him are C++ and JavaScript now.

They study together, they take naps together, they climb to the roof together, they flee school to visit Sally together - he is the Pinky to her Brain, the Scooby to her Shaggy, the Lois Lane to her Superman, the Robin to her Batman.

They look like troublemakers - They are honor roll students, but she is always with ripped pants dirty with paint, and he is always full of flowers everywhere, even in his muddy converses - a cliche to kill all cliches.

They're both nerds - he is the classic one, all polo shirts now, the first chair for every number-related class - and she is the artsy one - there's a brush behind her ear and her hair is so messy that half the time it covers her face.

Paola gifts him a pair of cheap frames without lenses once - saying it adds to the aesthetic - he totally uses them.

Persephone just makes him flower-crowns, and giggles when he matches them with his polo shirts.

When winter comes, he goes back to his hoodies and sweaters and gloves - to find out he doesn't miss them a lot.

Rachel introduces him to polaroids - and they look eerily pretty in the winter, her hair looking like blood spilling over the snow - and he loves it.

If he survives - he can feel Rachel slapping him - when he survives, his college credits will be remarkable. The idea of doing SATs makes him want to cry - reading always does - but he'll get somewhere good - he knows it. Perhaps Stanford. Or NYU. Or the dream of his life, MIT.

He is living his life to the fullest - he starts reading comic books, he gets really (really) into Tony Stark once Iron Man 1 comes out (even if he has to kill at least three monsters just to go to the movies), he plants trees and Rachel starts teaching him how to play her ukulele - but half his mind is still on the upcoming war.

Christmas vacation comes - and he goes to visit Camp Half-Blood, before heading back to his mom. It's quite memorable, if only by the fact that Nico Di Angelo freaking betrays him.

He tells Percy to come to the Winter Solstice with him. Most of the campers are not going - the war effort is in an all-time high - but Percy has never gone before. Hades will be there - it'll be great!

Perseus should absolutely be less surprised with the outcome - seeing that Nico is inviting him in Cabin 1, post-dinner, and they don't even stop to talk to Chiron about it.

But Percy goes. Because Percy wants to make amends.

There's no time to really talk to anyone. They travel in Blackjack for the Empire State Building - and it's fine.

They go up to Olympus, Nico shows him everything in the god's land, the temples are a work of art, if not kind of old, and the meeting is kind of okay, even if the gods are squabbling children.

Then the gods leave, and Perseus thinks they're leaving too.

"My father needs a word with you"

Perseus feels the betrayal claw on him. There are no shadows in the white hall, there's no way for him to escape. Nico looks apologetic - Percy wants to clock him in the face.

"He promised to tell me more about my mother" Nico pleads "He will tell me more about where I've come from. Please, Percy."

Nico is cute. He is, for a soon-to-be fourteen-year-old. But his pretty face and exquisite white eyes don't make him any less of a freaking liar. All his handsome male straight friends betray him - it's a worrying pattern now.

He muses for a second that they also all have a crush on Annabeth - gods, the blonde attract the worst types.

It's double-crossing - Percy ends up in an all-white cell that burns his retinas without any weapons because Zeus wants praise in the middle of this freaking war - doesn't matter if a hundred demigods die, if he only has the glory.

Nico ends up with barely any information - Zeus didn't promise anything. The god of the skies is a lying-ass motherfucker - literally.

And Zeus justifies it - He says Perseus is a criminal because he awakened Typhon. So Hephaestus issues a quest so he can save a hundred demigods, he destroys a powerful titan weapon of doom, and he is the villain? Sure, Jan.

Perseus writes this grudge in his heart - that's where trust will take you. To a cell. Betrayed by a "friend". Again.

He flinches when Nico comes into his cell, pins him to the wall and promptly begins to try and strangle him. He wants to melt in the boy's shadow - to go and never give him a chance to explain - but he looks so guilty Percy waits for his repentance.

The son of Zeus saves him, but Perseus is still pissed off. The god of thunder has threatened to kill him off at least two times now, what is to say he wouldn't have killed off Percy for the sake of glory?

He half hopes Zeus had killed him off. The war is close, too close - Nico wouldn't be the Prophecy's child. There would be no child. Olympus would fall - and Percy would have seen it all from his very comfortable couch in Elysium.

He wants Kronos gone - but he kind of wants Olympus to fall with the Titan.

Nico flies him down to the Earth - the elevator is monitored. Zeus has left, like many others - not to bother with the war effort against his main enemy, but to go to the human world mess with people.

Some gods are doing something - He has heard from Annabeth that Artemis is leading the widest hunt ever, with her brother by her side; Hermes (with Hephaestus help) is delivering Celestial Bronze, other metals, old schematics and a whole lot of fuel to Camp Half-Blood every few weeks; Poseidon is fighting his own war, in the ocean; Dionysus is at Camp - and this time, he is really helpful with the battle formations; Demeter is on the Underworld - Chiron seems to think his father is preparing for war, but Percy sorely doubts it.

Percy is taking some people with him to Sally's Christmas dinner. Just Annabeth, Clarisse, Rachel, Connor, Travis, and Charles - people who don't have a present family to celebrate it with.

Grover is coordinating the dryads up in San Francisco with his second cousin, Gleeson Hedge - they are the first to fall if anything goes wrong in Mt. Othrys.

"I think you should stay." He tells Nico.

"You don't trust me anymore." It's not actually a question.

Percy doesn't trust the boy. Not at all - it's the third time he does something shady to achieve his ends based on emotional turmoil. But he is a good person - it's just his father's cursed temper and his grief.

"It's not that. You're needed for the war effort."

Both of them know it's a lie. Percy doesn't care - he deserves to be bitter a little longer.

Percy goes back home. Christmas is amazing - even if Rachel asks him where Nico is because he is talking about making amends with the boy for a while now.

He goes visit Persephone - but she is occupied, so he wanders through the Underworld after Bianca di Angelo - someone he, for some reason, never been able to reach. It's a pointless endeavor by now.

He finds her. Or else, he finds a shadow of her - she is blocked from his view. Bianca doesn't talk to him - they weren't close - but she guides him to a girl.

Her name is Hazel Levesque.

She seems lost - like most ghosts - but something in Percy calls for her. It's the color of her skin and the sparkle in her golden eyes - Hazel remembers him of himself.

He promises to visit more - even though he doesn't think she'll remember it - and leaves to go back to the surface - he will finish the sophomore year.

And Percy does. After a very distressing break, he is doing his best. His grades drop a little in English because he can barely focus - half his mind is on the war and Nico's betrayal and Hazel Levesque's golden eyes.

Miraculously, his GPA doesn't fall - he still is taking a ridiculous amount of AP classes, and barely has time to breathe - dark circles grow under his eyes, and he looks like a mess - but now he is a Junior.

That's why, as soon as the year ends, Rachel takes him on a road trip with Connor. They go all the way to Boston, then Portland, Quebec, Montreal, Ottawa, Syracuse, Baltimore, and Filadelfia, before going back to NY.

They are stopped five times by the police - because Percy is black, and it's Rachel driving the Camaro, because she has a learner's permit and Connor is, somehow, an approved license holder.

They are on a pier, enjoying the view of the beach. They did the last week alone because Connor wanted to go check on one of his cousins - at least, that's what he said, with an over-exaggerated wink that both Percy and Rachel ignored for the sake of their sanity.

She tells him about Clarion Ladies Academy - but that her father is at least mildly happy with her GPA this year, even if he disapproves of her Art focused AP classes. Percy thinks Mr. Dare would love him, with his APs on Economics and Politics, if only he was rich. And white.

This time, when Charles Beckendorf arrives in a Pegasus to tell him it's time, Rachel doesn't kiss him - she justs hugs him and makes him promise to call her.

Perseus doesn't go to the Andromeda Ship - he is needed in Camp. He is useless on the water - but they do need him to improve battle strategy.

Charles Beckendorf is dead. Thalia is the one to tell them - she was in her father's palace helping with a monster under her Lady's orders - he went on the mission alone.

Percy talks briefly with Beckendorf's ghost - is his worst developed power, and he can barely hold the "seance" for more than a few minutes. He does it with only Nico di Angelo for witness - the others are the way to close to the situation.

There's a spy passing information to Luke.

They look at him. Doesn't matter how much he does, he is always the first suspect - he is a son of Hades. He was friends with a lot of people on the other side. He was gone for a year and a half, who knows where.

Perseus wants to say that he has helped to save their asses four times now - that without him in the Labyrinth, they would all be dead right now - and that Charles was basically his older brother.

Then he points out he wasn't even here - he had no idea of any plans of anything - and he told him about the spy, so he is not the freaking spy, go point fingers at each other instead of him.

When they start yelling, he stops them - this is not the time, he was just angry at their accusations. They have to burn Charles shroud. Silena is inconsolable - Percy is not very far from it, but he is not a public crier. The last time he cried in public, Luke was dead on a cliff.

Percy speeds up the line for Elysium to Beckendorf - his brother deserves it.

They read the prophecy together - Perseus already read it last summer, he doesn't even care anymore. They look at him anxiously - no one has forgotten that he abhors most of the gods.

Clarisse and Michael Yew fight, but Lee Fletcher - with a mechanical arm built by Beckendorf himself, still re-learning how to shoot arrows and forever incapable of playing the guitar again (but the keyboard is not ruled out yet) - stops them: They can share the chariot. The war is more important - is not the time for petty fights.

Chiron shows them Typhon - and Perseus has a sliver of hope that they can destroy Kronos and be free of the gods at the same time - It's a horrible hope, because he loves Persephone and some of them are even okay sometimes, but he really wants Zeus to go to Tartarus for at least a century, so Perseus doesn't meet him again in this life.

But he also wants the gods to win, because there's a lot of dead people - innocents, people who have nothing to do with this war.

He dreams of Rachel. Rachel is painting Luke - and Percy wakes up crying, for the boy the gods took away.

Annabeth takes him aside and reminds him of Achilles' Curse. He is off to May Castellan's house - the last place Luke has been - for it's his best and only chance, its what Annie thinks. And she is scarcely wrong.

Perseus hates the gods. They wrecked a family - and for what? May Castellan - forever waiting for a son that will never come back, haunted by visions of his future, plates of burned cookies everywhere.

Perseus doesn't pity her - he rages against the gods, who brought madness upon this woman and then left her to it. Where was Apollo, the god of health? Dionysus, who is supposed to control mental health? Artemis, whose job is to protect women?

Hestia is kind - but she is still a goddess. She could've prevented this - but she hides in her hearth and abstains - and that's enabling. Hestia enables the other gods to do as they please, even when she is the oldest. She says they ignore her - oh well, she ignores them right back! He has no time for the laments of another all-powerful being.

So he goes to his mother and asks for her blessing. Then, just to be sure, he asks Persephone's too.

He thinks about his anchor - where does he want it to be in his body. He doesn't want somewhere in his back - where he can't see it - or in his gut - where anyone can stick a sword. He settles for the bottom of his back - where he can at least touch it and it's well protected by armor - and dives.

Perseus hates water - and he has an uncanny fear of drowning. He feels pain - everywhere, horrible pain.

His vision now doesn't have Annabeth's face - the blonde is his link to the demigod world, Persephone is his link to the Underworld and his mom is his link to childhood - but the person who grounds him is Rachel.

He is stronger. He feel his powers at his fingertips - Perseus feels the Underworld as a whole, and it's overwhelming.

Green flames explode from his hands. Flowers made of shadows curve around his ankles - he has been training since he was 12, but now his body can sustain all of his power. This is all his.

He goes meet with his father - Perseus manipulates him. He tells Hades he'll be the hero, but the god himself can be praised for more than being his father. That he should join the battle against Typhon - That's his chance of proving himself. Also, there's less paperwork for him if there are fewer dead people.

His father is amused with his blatant bribing, but he thinks about it, Percy can tell. In a way or another, he excuses himself and goes back to the surface where he is needed.

Persephone stalls him. She asks him to stay, just for this night. He can go back in the morning - he sleeps, and dreams of Rachel again, drawing in the sand. In greek.

He is scared for her - she is having demigod dreams, but she is mortal. Something is wrong.

Typhon is getting worse - and Kronos draws closer to NYC. It's time - he calls for Blackjack and leaves - Mrs. O'Leary, who has become more or less of a mother to his own hellhound, follows. Persephone promises to convince Hades.

They have about sixty campers able to fight heading for the Empire State Building, and five healers. The ones too young to lift a sword or string a bow stayed back at Camp with Argus - fifteen children between 5 and 9 years old.

Percy knows he looks different - he looks just like his father. He has gained a godly aura - he has no scars anymore, no imperfections. Perseus looms over all of them - he went from 5'7'' to 6'2'' - it's a weird view, from up there. It's still strange when they look at him with a mix of fear and admiration.

Perseus Jackson is officially their leader. He hates Olympus - but he will give his life to defend every single one of his demigods.

The vision Hestia shows him just makes him want to tear this throne room with his bare hands - Luke was a kid. He was a kid - and the gods corrupted him. Thalia was a kid - and the gods took her life, twice. Annabeth is still a kid - they all are - and she is here planning battle strategies.

Annabeth missed an extra year of formal education - while Percy is a Junior, Annabeth barely qualifies for a Freshman - because the gods took this from her too.

Percy rages. The ground of Olympus trembles beneath him - he wants to kill something.

Then Hermes appears - like this whole war is not his fault in the first place, the literal bastard - just to relay a message from Athena that gives them a plan that Annabeth was already putting into works and tells Percy to stay away from Annabeth.

Like she cares. Like Athena has ever, ever, done anything for Annabeth.

Perseus can't punch Athena, so he punches the messager (also, because he freaking guilt trips both of them about Luke). He has nothing to lose - he is going to die by the end of the day anyway, and they need him too much.

He has punched a god before - Ares, in a desert in the middle of Los Angeles - but this time, it's satisfactory. He feels good after it.

Hermes seems strangely resigned - He feels guilty about Luke too, but Perseus doesn't think it's enough. It'll never be enough, not while the gods leave their children to rot in a cabin of rejects and May Castellan bakes cookies for a son that will never come back.

Hermes leaves, ashamed. It's only fair, Perseus thinks. They all should be ashamed.

They see the city asleep - the prophecy is in the works.

Perseus executes their strategy - every cabin is covering a tunnel, with the exception of Dionysus, because Pollux is with the Demeter kids, and the Hecate kids stay behind to use spells to overlook the city. Lincoln Tunnel is getting covered by Ares - who, this time around, is actively participating.

The undetermined who didn't desert are with Hermes - and the minor god's children are divided by specialty - most Hypnos and Morpheus children follow him directly, but the two sons of Iris go with the Apollo Cabin.

Annabeth executes Plan 23, automatons, mounting on Mrs. O'Leary (who has strict orders to take Annabeth anywhere she wants without stopping to play around) - she doesn't need his help with this, and Percy has a tunnel to defend.

That left the rivers uncovered - until Thalia appears, with magical sand money, and made the rivers cooperate.

The hunters join the Aphrodite kids - who are half a dozen children between 11 and 19 - the oldest being Silena Beauregard, who uses a crossbow that looks exactly like her immortal half-brother's one.

His bridge is completely covered on skeletons - but no monster comes, even if he hears explosions. He leaves an English Lieutenant from the Battle of Yorktown in command of the bridge - with Tyene, the oldest daughter of Morpheus, to be in alert and don't let Clovis sleep through the battle. Because he did it before - and while it is funny, it can't happen right now.

Perseus mounts Blackjack - and go see where the noise is coming from. It's the Williamsburg Bridge - where are most of Apollo's Cabin.

They fight - and Percy almost cries when he sees Luke, who is not Luke anymore. Luke, who is a puppet controlled by Kronos.

Perseus kills the Minotaur and the weight of his stone spikes collapse the bridge - and Michael Yew dies. This time around, the bridge falls silently into shadows, and he doesn't bother about searching for the corpse - he saw the boy falling, and his screams will haunt all of them, forever.

This time around, Annabeth is not there to protect him - Ethan also doesn't try to kill him. The Son of Nemesis doesn't leave Kronos side for a second - but there's regret in his eyes.

After the bloodlust is gone, Perseus collapses - Will has to bride carry him back. Overuse of his powers - he summoned skeletons and produced shadows, melted enemy swords (with the bonus of incapacitating them without killing), and sprouted stone spikes everywhere - there's even a vine or ten that he used to hold his friends from falling.

Perseus doesn't sleep quickly enough to not hear the yell of anguish that comes from Lee Fletcher - the pain of losing a brother and not being able to fight beside him.

But he does sleep - and he dreams. He dreams of Hades killing Maria Di Angelo, not Hera, like Zeus told Nico. He dreams of Zeus cursing the Oracle - and he seethes, because he also sees what happened to May Castellan.

He keeps getting angrier and angrier at the gods - it's building inside of him. But his friends are still here, still fragile. He can't let them suffer more.

Perseus wakes up, checks on everyone - most everyone is either injured and/or exhausted, but he checks on every camper. He knows all of their names, their ages, their cabins. - and promises to sit up to talk with Thalia and Nico - war makes him prone to peace - and promptly goes back to sleep.

He dreams of Rachel. He wants to scream for her not to come: but she'll anyway.

Perseus dreams of a boy. He is his age - maybe a little younger. His hair is blonde and his skin is whiter - but Percy glances at his eyes, and there are waves in them.

There's a girl by his side - she is familiar to Percy, somehow. They're climbing a mountain.

The dream ends and Percy can't make heads or tails of it. He asks Thalia if she has a brother, but she says that she doesn't, looking wistful.

Prometheus is tempting - but he knows there's no Luke anymore, there's only Kronos. And the gods are horrible, vile and immature - but they never killed any of Percy's friends. Some of them died for the gods - but never by their hands, so for now, Perseus would toe the line.

He does want to punch Hermes again. He takes the Pythos - if everything goes wrong, he will not hesitate in going down for the sake of his friends - but there have been six deaths, and it's enough.

"Was it worth it?" He asks Ethan.

"Alabaster is alive" And it's all the answer Percy needs.

He dreams of Ethan and Alabaster. Alabaster is alive, yes, but he is missing half a leg - courtesy of Clarisse herself. Luke - Kronos - is indifferent, and Ethan curses the daughter of Ares - "The sword that took from us will take from you"

He contains Hyperion with his shadows. Then he helps Grover (who was half asleep, because of Morpheus) to make the Titan into a tree. It's a pomegranate tree - then he sets hellish fire to it and sacrifices it to Hades and Persephone.

A pig is in the sky - this time around, Annabeth and her frightening army of automatons kill it with Nico's help.

Perseus laughs - because Annabeth has about two hundred automatons under her command, Martin Luther King and Alexander Hamilton leading the charge with a giant bull being ridden by the Mad Hatter behind them.

It's weird to see historic figures Percy admires - like Jane Bolin, Sylvia Mendez, or Abraham Lincoln - fighting alongside people he downright despises - Thomas Jefferson and the goatfucker, herpes-ridden, Colombus. His Comparative Government teacher would have a field day.

Annabeth and Nico's pair up is amazing - They fight alongside like they have been doing it all life.

Nico is a force of nature, flying and commanding the winds to do his bidding - His eyes shine in the midst of the stormy clouds. His specialty is weather manipulation - he hasn't had much success with direct energy or electric discharges.

Annabeth has her mother's tenacity for war - and her clever mind for strategies. It's clear in her eyes - she is racking the weaker points of the Clazmonian Sow in her mind and destroying it. The automatons hold the pig in place - and she makes bacon of it.

Hercules couldn't do it. Nico and Annabeth can, because they have the power and the mind.

Perseus is still fighting off monsters - but they're too widespread, so they retreat to the doors of the Empire State Building.

Percy does a mental tally: of sixty-two campers, six are confirmed dead, twenty are injured and nine are out of commission on exhaustion. There should be 27 orange shirts here - but there's only twenty.

Percy wonders if the seven missing are injured, or dead, or under a pile of rubble somewhere with no one to help them. Is there someone being slowly eaten by monsters? Is there someone alone and injured and abandoned? He doesn't know.

He prays that those seven deserted them - at least that means they probably are alive and well.

Perseus looks at Phoebe's grief-stricken face, and he knows it's not probable - she had almost three dozen hunters with her, and now there's barely fifteen still fighting, Thalia nowhere to be seen.

They prepare for their last standing - Percy keeps conjuring skeletons, but they're no match for the sheer strength of the hyperborean giants. Nico is shoulder to shoulder with the Stoll brothers against a group of telkhines - Clarisse is bringing down a whole giant by herself.

After the Party Ponies save them - Chiron leads the charge against his own father, and Perseus is so proud of his mentor he can't even put in words how much - he goes to sleep. Fighting gets him tired quickly, and they'll come back.

He dreams of Dionysus. Perseus is not fond of any god who is not Persephone, but Dionysus is mostly okay sometimes. He seems to care about his children.

Perseus couldn't care less about the Western Civilization - but he'll care for Pollux. It's one of his demigods, after all, and Underworld people are possessive of theirs (i.e. Hades and Persephone).

He dreams of Thalia, in her father's palace, begging Poseidon to leave the underwater war and help with the invasion - His wife is none too happy with the presence of his immortal bastard daughter.

He wakes up to Rachel's helicopter falling - how is Rachel even awake, is a mistery.

The improbable pair Nico and Annabeth strike again: The girl knows how to fly helicopters, and the boy can fly himself. They save the redhead and the pilot - everything is fine.

"You're not the hero"

"Why did you risk yourself to tell me something I already know?"

Rachel doesn't explain - she can't. But she has a vision that says that he is not the hero. The hero of what? Perseus has no idea. But there's no way any of his cousins is dying for this stupid prophecy.

Suddenly, there's a drakon there. Rachel has another prophecy - Perseus fears she will walk the path that led May Castellan to destruction - that only a child of Ares will be able to kill it.

Bad news: All children of Ares are otherwise out of battle.

Clarisse is resting after a nasty concussion - and her brothers and Apollo's children are fighting yet again because Lee Fletcher is in no condition to stop them and Michael Yew is dead. Ares' side refuses to fight without the chariot - which Cabin 7 has hidden somewhere.

The best they can do is fend the drakon off until a miracle occurs. And it does: Clarisse, in full armor, manages to lead her brothers into battle.

Clarisse is dead. Something shatters inside of Perseus - and he leaves the drakon for the Ares' children to solve - he can't kill it anyway - and starts to vaporize the army behind it.

He is so caught up in bloodlust, that he almost misses Clarisse slaying a dragon. Clarisse, who has no armor. Clarisse, who is alive.

Ethan's curse rang true - Clarisse's weapon took something from her.

Silena is a traitor. She is also dead - which makes her a martyr, and probably going to reunite with her boyfriend in Elysium.

He remembers how easy is to fall for Luke's charm - he was - is - still in love with the guy. Percy thought the son of Hermes could do no wrong - and he wonders how much of his rage against the gods sprout from his influence.

Something evil inside of Perseus's mind tells him she deserved it. It tells Perseus that better her than Clarisse - but he shuts it down, and concentrates on his shining red friends.

He hates Ares. But he might just have an okay side if he can produce such a magnificent daughter.

Silena is the Patroclus to Clarisse's Achilles, and the Drakon is Hector - and the daughter of Ares is sure to parade its dead body.

It's the first time they feel like they are winning. It doesn't last - but as he hugs Clarisse tightly, he thinks he might cry of relief.

Clarisse looks tough - but she is a wonderful human being. She loves Silena with her whole heart - even more than she loves Chris, her best friend. Silena might've been in love with Charles - but she and Clarisse? They are soulmates.

The damned Pythos is following Perseus - and he is done with it. He knows where hope will survive best. Rachel wants him to give it to Hestia - but he owns the fire goddess nothing.

She has never interfered, not once, to help the dozens of demigods with no family that is abandoned in Cabin 11, and he won't forgive her for it.

He sacrifices hope to Persephone because that's what spring is. Spring is the hope of a new life. Maybe, Perseus thinks, it'll convince his father to come.

They go down to make their final stand against the forces of Kronos. There's not a lot of them - but they're not getting through those doors.

Well, his father doesn't come. But Poseidon does, with his whole army, Tyson and Thalia behind him, and the scales seem to turn.

And then Kronos cuts the barrier. Perseus can see his Mom (why is his Mom here with a handgun?!) and Poseidon fighting against the monsters under the eyes of extremely confused mortals.

Some are trying to break the barrier - but it's futile. Kronos has corraled them like sheep for the slaughter.

It's just him, Grover, Annabeth and Nico, fighting against Kronos vanguard - which is big, but not as strong as they are.

Kronos passes him without resistance - Ethan follows, but there's anger in his eyes - not for Percy, but for the monster he is leashed to. Alabaster is not there.

As soon as Kronos powers stop working on them, the four follow the titan - and some things never change, no matter the universe.

This time, it's Nico who falls because of Hera - it's her curse over all of her husband's bastards.

Ethan takes one look at Perseus, and they don't even need to fight. They have been friends for longer than they have been enemies - and they both loathe the gods, but Kronos is as much of an all-powerful controller being as any of the Olympians.

They battle against Kronos - Perseus has only his ax against his scyther - a true Underworld fight.

Ethan dies. And Perseus bloodlust consumes him - it clouds his eyes and he can only keep fighting.

"If... if we've had cabins... and they had thrones"

It's true, and more than ever, Perseus wishes Kronos wasn't such a bastard. He wouldn't bother killing the gods - but the titan is a way worse option.

"LUKE, PLEASE" It's Annabeth. He doesn't have her faith - she didn't saw his transformation. But he tries anyway because he loves Luke just as much as he hates Kronos.

"Luke, remember our summer" But his words are caught up in his throat when the titan throws him against the wall.

But the amalgamation of his friend and an all-powerful being looks confused, so props for his genius best friend.

Kronos shows them a rainbow message of Typhon - and that's where Perseus it's pretty sure he starts liking his father.

Because the Lord of the Dead opens up the earth and gets out in a black chariot guided by skeletal horses like a king. By his right side, is Persephone, in armor battle as a queen should be. By his left, is Demeter, who looks every single bit like the matron she is supposed to be.

Behind him, a hundred thousand dead roars. Charon is mounting Cerberus - and literal hell is unleashed upon the Father of Monsters.

The gods strike down Typhon, sending him back to be locked away - this time, in the depths of Tartarus instead of Mount Etna.

Kronos gets mad. Utterly, undoubtedly mad. He talks about burning Luke's body. Then he hurts Annabeth and breaks two promises in one fell swoop.

"Luke.... remember family" It's what Annabeth utters, but Perseus, already certain of their own demise, is crying now.

"That summer Luke, you promised to never hurt her again. You remember it? YOU PROMISED LUKE!!"

Annabeth's promise was already broken - he had hurt her, all those years ago, in Mt. Othrys. But the promise he made to Percy - that he would never hurt her again - is new and broken, in the river Styx no less.

Luke regains his own body, for a minute, and Perseus runs to him like a man in a desert with no water.

"Please, please tell me there's a way to undo this, Luke, please, please"

"There isn't one, Percy" And it's the first time he hears Luke call him Percy, Percy and not Perseus, in his own voice, in two years. Percy cries.

"We... we don't have much time, hellebore. Give me Annabeth's dagger. Before he... before he takes back"

Luke calls him hellebore and it makes him start crying all over again. He gives him the dagger - and Luke kills himself, taking Kronos out with him.

Luke doesn't need to ask if Percy has ever loved him - Percy kept loving Luke, one-sided as it was, even when Kronos was there.

He still crying over Luke's body when the gods arrive. Luke is dead. Ethan is dead. Silena is dead. Michael Yew is dead. Charles is dead.

He lost three of his best friends in two days. Ethan is dead. Luke is dead. Luke is dead.

Perseus can't stop crying. They take Luke's body away - but he can't stop. Annabeth explains what happened to the gods - most of it, anyway. Apollo says he is in shock - his father says he is a hero.

Perseus doesn't feel like a hero. Was this all worth it? Was it worth it the pain and the death and the suffering?

Persephone touches him - and he has no tears to cry anymore. She can't hug him here, but she'll do so later.

He stares at the walls, listening to his friends being awarded - compensated by their siblings and friends' deaths - with a blank stare. Perseus wants his mom.

They call for him. He raised his head but doesn't bother getting up. He just saved their asses - for the fifth time in a roll. He deserves to grieve.

They offer him immortality. A place between the gods.

He laughs. Zeus looks murderous, but he can't stop laughing.

"My apologies, but I have to refuse," he says. But in his mind, he is thinking about how could they even think he might want to sit between them and be an all-powerful being, be another god ignoring his children and messing with mortal lives while thousands die for him.

"Promise me, on the river Styx, that you'll give me the wish that I want."

They promise him, that if it's within their capabilities, they shall grant him his wish.

"I wish for every child at the age of twelve to be claimed. I wish for cabins in Camp Half-Blood, for every single minor god, and my own father. I wish for Calypso to be free, and to the demigods from the opposite side of this war to be given amnesty. It's not their fault. It's not any of our faults."

"You dare to-" Zeus begins, but Percy is really tired of Zeus.

"We fought your war, we won your battles. We, the unclaimed and rejected stowaways of Cabin 11. We, the children of minor and Underworld gods. We deserve respect. Just like my father deserves a throne, just like the minor gods deserve justice."

"Don't you fear us?" Athena asks, something weird shining in her eyes.

"I thought I would be dead today. At least if I die now, I'm dying for something I believe in."

It stays unsaid that he doesn't believe in them. The other demigods look at him worried - but he is not afraid of the gods.

They grant his wish. Some of them aren't happy with it, but they have to do it. He meets Calypso at the front gates of Olympus - and her smile can brighten the pits of Tartarus. He sees Alabaster talking with Lou Ellen - they are both crying.

He thinks it's the end - it's not. Thalia tells him Rachel left for Camp in her Pegasus - and his father has lift the curse, the Prophecy is gone, but he fears for his best friend.

Perseus is too tired for shadow travel - he does it anyway. He flickers, but anyway, he is too late.

It works. Rachel - his best friend - is the new Oracle. Someone jokes they can't be together anymore and Rachel lifts an eyebrow.

"We never were. Didn't you see the last few hours?" Well, he did out himself. Mostly - they might say it's just friendship, and he will hate the way they twist it. Luke wasn't a villain, and Perseus isn't a pure hero with a heart of gold.

Perseus is healing from lost love - and Annabeth is too. His crush on her was only a crush, he thinks - She is his best friend first and foremost. They cry together at the bonfire that burns away the shrouds of 43 demigods - from both sides - and 16 hunters of Artemis. Their souls all rest in Elysium now.

Alabaster comes back to Camp and helps his siblings to build the new Cabin for Hecate, full of spelled blocks and magic chimneys. Clovis and Tyene have their hands full with their own cabins - it doesn't help they keep getting sidetracked with naps.

Somehow, Nico, Thalia, and his bond over helping construct Cabin 13 - They are both way too invested in the goth vibe, mostly because Cabin 1 looks like a temple, and Cabin 3 looks like a beach cabin. And both of them are so over it.

Perseus doesn't want a goth cabin - he is fighting against the aesthetic for years - but sometimes, there are no arguments. His Cabin is made of black marble, and there are skulls everywhere, with torches shining with green fire. Outside, at least. Inside, it looks like Persephone's garden, with input from the queen herself. It's ready just shy of the end of summer vacation.

Rachel tells the next Great Prophecy. Perseus isn't such a positive person to think it won't affect him - he hopes at least it'll wait until he is done with High School.

That night, he dreams of the blonde boy again - it's his first night without nightmares since the battle. He has a scar in his lip, and his green eyes pierce Percy's soul. Perseus wonders if they'll ever meet, wonders if this boy is one of the Seven of the Prophecy.

But alas, Perseus lets it go. The summer is over - he is sixteen, somehow. He is alive and going to go back to his mortal life and his junior year, and grief. Not everything is fine - but eventually, it will be.

It's not the end. Not yet.

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writesowhatnext · 5 years ago

Text

you have to give a dog a name // frank castle

Summary: Frank takes a liking to a waitress at a diner – in Hell’s Kitchen it would never be long before the same waitress gets introduced to the Punisher

Request: just something i’d been thinking of for a while tbh

A/N: love Frankie

Reader: female

Warnings: age difference, violence, assault, swearing, dogs, injuries, guns

part 1 // part 2

Working the night shift at the diner down the street just to earn enough money to survive whilst also trying to get through school was not easy nor ideal. But it wasn’t the worst option. Not by a long shot. Especially not in Hell’s Kitchen, where vigilantes and evil villains ran around like they owned the place. Although, that’s exactly what they did.

You didn’t get what was considered enough sleep; what with half your time spent on night shifts and the other half working hard enough to escape them. So, whilst you stood there, behind the counter, at 4am, you barely noticed the guy in the baseball cap sitting in the booth across the diner. When you did, you fumbled for the coffee jug, dragging it across the counter towards him. He’d been in the diner almost religiously for the last two months – only ever in the night shift between the hours of 2 and 5am. You didn’t know his name and given the city you lived in, chose to ignore how bruised his face always seemed to be.

“Just coffee today?” You asked, pouring him a cup. He lifted his head slightly, only grumbling in response. On the other side of the restaurant, there was a clicking sound from a businessman with a grey suit and an uglier briefcase. He looked at you expectantly, clearly irritated. You bit your lip. Asshole.

“Are you sure I can’t interest you in some breakfast? I make some mean eggs.” He smiled slightly as you sighed. The clicking noise from the man’s fingers just got louder and more impatient.

“No thanks, Doll, just coffee.”

You nodded, offering him your own smile before your face dropped and you were forced across the room to an impatient middle-aged man’s beck and call. You fetched him the cheque, chancing a glance at the clock on the wall. 6am couldn’t arrive fast enough.

To say you were surprised to see no tip when you picked up the cheque from the businessman’s now empty table would be an overstatement of great proportions. You cleared his table, noticing that the man in the baseball cap had also left. However, when you went to retrieve the empty coffee cup from his table, you were surprised to see the face of Andrew Jackson. You frowned, smiling slightly before seeing to the other few-and-far-between customers in the diner at this time.

For the next few nights, you didn’t see the mysterious tipper in the diner. You didn’t think much of it, though. And at 5.30am, you weren’t going to lose the very little sleep you had thinking of it any more. Only thirty more minutes and you could escape and get some rest; well-deserved, you thought. The diner was actually completely empty, surprising for this time. The last customer you’d had (a lady, typing away into a computer for about three hours, that went through around seventeen cups of coffee) had just left. She’d paid in coins, and given a generous tip, but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you placed each individual coin into cash register unbearably slowly. You muttered under your breath as you dropped a couple onto the floor.

As you bent down to pick them up, the bell at the door rang. Heavy, dragged footsteps made you frown but as you stood back, you were pleasantly surprised to see a familiar baseball cap, less so to see fresh bruises and- was that blood?

“Are you okay?” you asked, throwing the rest of the coins into the register and slamming it shut, leaning over the counter. The corner of his lips drew upwards as he sat at the counter, folding his arms in front of him.

“Fine, Doll.”

You frowned and grabbed the coffee jug from the machine, pouring him a cup and sliding it over.

“My name is Y/N.”

“Okay.” He smiled again and you couldn’t help but frown at the purplish hues of his face, the blood peeking out from under his hat. “Are eggs still on the menu?”

You couldn’t hide your surprise at his request but before long, a smile grew.

“Of course.”

He watched you mill around behind the counter, from the fridge to the pans to the shelves underneath the surface.

“Can I get you anything with that? Bacon? Hash browns? Mushrooms? Toast?”

“You’re okay, Doll. Eggs are fine.”

You nodded.

“How do you want them?”

“Surprise me.”

The silence was comfortable and nobody else decided they wanted diner food before six in the morning, fortunately. You were so involved in cooking that you completely forgot about counting down the minutes until your shift was over.

“Voila,” you placed down a place in front of him, not unaware of the way his eyes never strayed from your face. “Two eggs, over-easy. Because it’s my favourite.”

You grabbed some cutlery and a little sauce and seasoning rack and placed it in front of him.

“Thanks.”

You leant on your elbows, trying not to watch him eat but finding nothing better to do. He ate quietly and quickly, not bothering to add any extras. Just eggs and black coffee.

“What’s your name?” you asked. The way he paused didn’t escape you.

“Frank.”

Frank, you thought, definitely suited him.

The phone in the back rang; knowing it would be your boss, you offered Frank a smile and disappeared into the back. After a conversation that was not only unnecessary but about quite literally nothing, you returned to the front. Frank wasn’t there, he’d been replaced by Ulysses S. Grant. The bell above the door rang again as the girl on the day shift arrived. She shot you a sympathetically annoyed glance. You gave her a smile, thankful to be able to finally remove your apron and go sleep.

It wasn’t until thanksgiving that you saw Frank again. It was the night before and ever the gracious leader, your boss had let you leave early. Midnight. Lovely. So, you walked through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen warily, with your key shoved between your knuckles. You were about half a block from your house when you felt eyes on you. Your skin crawled. Walking down the alley, you heard footsteps behind you and the bleakest part of your mind hoped that you were only going to get mugged.

“Where you going, sweetheart?” a voice called out from in front of you. You swerved to the left, quickening your pace. Fuck fuck fuck.

“No need to run. We just wanna say hello.”

You stopped suddenly as a short white guy cut you off. He was smiling. You heard the footsteps behind you get louder.

“I don’t want any trouble-“

“Neither do we, Darling.” The man behind you was closer than you thought.

“Please-“

The man behind you grabbed your upper arm. Your heartbeat was the only thing you could hear, your ears throbbing.

With a strange jolt of adrenaline, you clenched your hand around the keys, jamming them into the man in front’s shoulder. He shouted as you pulled them out, reaching for you. Before he could reach you, the other man twisted you round to face him and he’s toothy smile. Mindlessly, you punched your hand into his face, feeling the keys sink into his cheek. He groaned and pushed you back. The keys dropped from your hand into a puddle on the ground. Fuck. You fell into the other man, hating the way his fingernails dug into your arm.

“You’re a bitch.” The one you had punched in the face spat, his cheek bleeding. The one behind you held you still – not from your lack of struggling – as the other approached. Your bag slid down your arm as you tried to rip your arms away; feeling his harsh grip eat into your arms.

A fist collided with your face and suddenly you were on the floor. A bottle smashed underneath you and you cried out, feeling the glass settle into the skin on your arm. You turned over, tasting blood in your mouth as your head swam. You could hear them talking behind you, chuckling to each other. You pushed yourself onto your hands and knees, your whole chest heaving. You reached for the rest of the half-shattered bottle, fingers skimming the glass surface. Before you could catch your breath, a hand gripped your hair roughly, pulling you to your feet as a cry left your lips. You’d managed to grasp the bottle and as your eyes watered from the pain in your head, you twisted round and thrust your hand into the figure holding you. He fell to the floor and you felt sick at the sight of the green glass buried in his shoulder, blood leaking around it and his eyes bulging.

“What the fuck?” the other man said, looking between you and his friend with angry eyes. You panicked, reaching to the ground to fish your keys from the puddle, hoping to get away. You didn’t get far before a hand gripped your wrist and pulled you back. He twisted your arm until you dropped your keys again. Your cry was cut short when his thick fingers wrapped around your throat and shoved you into the wall. Your free hand reached up to your neck, desperately trying to peel his fingers away.

“You fucking slut.” You moved your hand from your neck to his face, pulled and pushing to try and get him to let go. You clawed at his skin before shoving your fingers into his eyes, pushing until he let go and you dropped to the floor. You couldn’t breathe. Your heart was hammering.

You started to crawl away; your knees were sore against the concrete. Again, you didn’t get far. The same horrible hand caged your ankle and suddenly you were pulled towards him. Your knees sang in pain as you collided with the ground again. You would no doubt have rashes when you got out of this. If you got out of this. He stood between your legs and a different kind of fear overtook you. With nothing keeping you there, you backed away, elbows wet from puddles on the ground. The other guy still hadn’t got up, hand at his shoulder. He was breathing though, which you supposed was good for you.

You saw out of the corner of your eye, behind you, a piece of piping. As he got closer, his eyes predatory and angry, you quickened your pace, trying to ignore the pain you felt in your face, your knees and your neck. You grabbed at the piping as best you could, it spinning away from you as you panicked, still facing him. He bent down again to grip your ankle, dragging you once again, making you wince. He settled on his knees, hands groping up your leg. Your stomach dropped even further. You tried to back away but his fingers dug into your hips. You could feel his breath on your face and you tried to push him away but he shoved your wrist into the dirt behind you. You tried to kick but he knelt on your shins, pinning them down.

With your free hand, you pawed at the pipe, praying you could reach it as his hands strayed to your waist. With renewed panic, your hand finally found the pipe and before you knew it, you were swinging. It struck him in the side of the head; he jolted to the left. He was angry. So, you hit him again, burying into his skull. He sagged on top of you and all you could feel was your breath unable to escape your chest, his heavy body touching your skin. You rolled over. His hand twitched towards you. So, you hit him again. And again. And again. You were crying and sweating and you couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t stop either. Not when his blood hit your face, not even when you were sure he was dead. You only stopped when you heard your name behind you.

You spun around, wielding the pipe roughly, pointing it towards whoever was there. Your heart stopped a little when you saw Frank. His eyes softened at the feral panic in your own eyes. His hands were raised in surrender, showing he meant you no harm. You wanted to believe him but in his right hand was a gun.

“Who the hell-“ the man with the glass in his shoulder began before a shot rang out. Frank’s eyes didn’t leave yours as he pointed his gun. You looked down at the man, briefly noting the way he dropped to the ground. Frank’s hand disappeared behind his back. You watched him tuck his gun into his waistband, approaching you slowly. He noticed your bag on the floor, fishing it out of a puddle, and the streetlight glint off of your keys a good few feet away. He picked them up too.

“You’re okay, Y/N.” he said softly. You dropped the pipe, barely hearing the clang as it hit the floor. You could feel yourself shaking as he got closer but you didn’t move. You didn’t want to see the man behind you. The man you were sure you’d killed. Frank knelt down in front of you, his hands still raised. You absent-mindedly wondered why he didn’t care about his jeans getting wet. You were sure they’d seen worse stains.

“Can you stand?” he asked softly. Looking at him, into his dark eyes, you couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t going to hurt you. So, you nodded. But then you tried. You felt like Bambi as you tried to make it onto two feet. You scrunched your eyes shut as you stood, wobbling.

“I’m going to touch you, okay?”

You nodded again but still winced as his hand rested on your arm gently. His tough, calloused palms were soft above your bruised skin.

“I killed him.” You muttered, over and over again as Frank pulled you slowly and gently into his chest. His arms surrounding you stilled your shaking slightly; you were grateful. You were confused when his right arm disappeared and his other hand pushed the side of your head further into his chest. It hurt briefly but when his hand covered your ear and another gunshot broke the silence, you silently thanked him.

“I killed him.” Frank said softly, his right arm returning to pull you into him. His logic was shaky but you appreciated the sentiment. “Where do you live, Doll?”

You couldn’t reply.

He stopped trying.

Without jostling you too much, he bent down and lifted your legs off of the floor. You were in a trance as he walked down the city streets, away from those men. You only sort of registered being inside, only taking notice when he lowered you to the ground. Still shaking, he didn’t dare move his hand away from your back. A jingling sound rang from another room, getting louder. You flinched. Then a dog appeared. It was a pit-bull with a too-large collar and a wiggle when it walked. A small smile lifted your cheek.

“Go away.” Frank said to the dog. The dog only barked back, coming closer to you with its wagging tail. Frank was about to shoo him out the room when you bent down, patting its head gently. Once again, Frank’s expression softened.

“What’s its name?”

Your voice was hoarse and broken and Frank barely recognised it.

“He doesn’t have one.”

You looked up at Frank then, with an almost teasing smile. You didn’t say anything though; just turned your attention back to the very grateful dog in front of you.

“Come on,” Frank said, lightly touching your arm, unable to tear his eyes away from the already forming bruises. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You left the dog rather reluctantly, following Frank into a cramped bathroom. He coughed slightly. “If you take your clothes off and sit on the tub, I’ll get some first aid shit.”

You were slow to take your clothes off – a mix of embarrassment, pain and unsureness marked every movement. Frank knocked before he returned.

“Come in.”

You were sat on the side of his bathtub only in your underwear. You’d avoided the mirror, already horrified at your injuries you could see. Frank examined you from the doorway. You couldn’t help but feel conscious of his stare.

“I’ll clean up the worst ones.” He said, sitting on the toilet lid so he was level with your shoulders. “I brought you some clothes.”

You looked at the pile of large clothes on the floor and nodded. Silence fell again as he started with your legs, using a wet cloth to wipe away the dirt from the scrapes and rashes on your skin. You just watched his face, too sick to watch him work. Every time he moved to a different injury, he looked at you, his eyes soft, checking if you were okay. You appreciated how such a tough guy could be so gentle. You flinched when he moved your hair to look at the bruises on your neck, more than you had done when he’d painstakingly picked glass from your arm. That was the only time you looked away from him.

Then his hand rested on your chin, holding it in place as he brushed your skin with a wet cloth. You couldn’t tell what you looked like but from the way the cloth became more and more soaked with blood each time he pulled away; you didn’t want to know. When he was finished, he held your face for a moment longer, tucking your hair behind your ear and offering you a smile.

“Clothes are there. I’ll be outside.”

And with that, he left. You could hear the jingling of the dog’s collar again through the door and you imagined Frank bent down, petting him whilst he waited. Frank’s clothes were too big for you but you appreciated how soft they were. Before you could open the door, you caught your reflection in the mirror above the sink and winced.

You were bruised all over and your nose was still raw despite Frank’s attempts to get rid of the blood. You could also see the welt forming on your neck. You could’ve stood there for hours; thankfully, Frank’s gentle knocking pulled you from your reverie and you opened the door to see him leaning against the wall opposite, pit-bull sitting happily at his feet.

“You should stay here tonight.”

You only nodded again before he led you into the lounge. It wasn’t much, with only a TV and a sofa linked to a tiny looking kitchen. You sat down, smiling slightly when the dog sat next to you, eager for more attention.

“Do you want some food?” Frank didn’t strike you as a man with a stocked kitchen. “Coffee? Water?”

“Water, please.”

Frank searched a good five minutes for a clean glass before he decided you’d have to cope with a coffee-stained mug. When he got back to the couch, he found you asleep, his dog sitting on your lap. He smiled. When the dog noticed him, he wagged his tail ferociously but, you didn’t wake up. So, he decided you probably wouldn’t wake up if he moved you. The dog was hot on his heels as he carried you to his bed, placing you under the covers and sending his dog a dry look when he joined you.

“You’re lucky she likes you.” He said to the dog, casting one last look at your face before closing the door and disappearing to spend the night on the couch.

#frank castle #the punisher #frank castle imagine #frank castle x reader #the punisher imagine #imagine #writing

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idolistic-dreams · 4 years ago

Text

Lurking in the Dark; 9

♥︎ Genre: Vampire au, lots of angst, fluff, maybe some smut later on.

♥︎ Pairing: Vampire! Jaehyun x Reader

♥︎ Warnings: Language, violence, mentions of blood.

♥︎ Word Count: 3K

♥︎ A/N: Again, sorry this took forever, at least it wasn’t as long a wait as some chapters :’) Schools keeping me busy.

1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8

Spinoffs following the series; Serious // Hesitation // Believe

Days had passed without a single word or visit from any of the boys. You were starting to become concerned and you could tell it was taking a toll on all of your friends. Two days after the stormy night you had all started acting like zombies, walking around the apartment without a word and only getting up for necessities.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Melody was the first to break the silence, five days in. She pulls at her hair in annoyance and lets out a groan.

“Do we really have a choice?” Hana’s voice is oddly quiet, the silence from the past five days having an effect on her tone.

“Usually I’d be the one to say yes and drag us all out to the cemetery… but I don’t think I want to get killed by vampires today, so no,” you sigh, pulling your knees to your chest, sinking into the couch for comfort.

“I don’t think I’ve ever known you to back down from a challenge,” Hana smiles softly, and you know she’s not suggesting you make a plan but instead trying to lighten the mood. You smile back and roll your eyes.

“I’m tough, but not vampire tough,” you say. Silence washes over the five of you again, Mei looks out of the window, having not said a word. Prita walks in from her room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Pri, you realize it’s 2 in the afternoon, right?” Melody looks at her in concern.

“Not like we’re on any schedule or going anywhere,” Prita mumbles back, looking uncharacteristically grumpy.

“Guys—”

“No need to be so grumpy Pri,” Melody frowns at her friend.

“Uh, guys?”

“Sorry, I thought not being able to leave your apartment for almost a week and not seeing your boyfriend was reason enough to be grump,” Prita retorts.

“GUYS,” Mei finally yells in annoyance.

“What?” The rest of you all turn to her at once.

“There are two guys that I’ve never seen walking into our building,” her voice is so quiet, you almost don’t hear her.

“You’ve been people watching too much,” Prita rolls her eyes, still grumpy.

“Exactly, which is why I know these guys aren’t from around here. I’ve seen enough people go in and out of here to figure that much out,” Mei looks concerned.

“Shit, do you think… Do you think it’s the other vampires? How the hell would they find us?” Your eyes widen.

“Why the hell would they come up here in the middle of the day though?” Hana looks confused.

“Because it’s more unexpected…” Melody looks grim.

“Everyone stay quiet and go to my room,” You look at the four of them and start walking as quickly and quietly as you could. Once you were all inside, just as you were shutting the door, you hear a knock from the front door. Your eyes widen and you quickly lock the door and grab the bat you kept by it, slowly backing away. Suddenly you all hear the front door being kicked in. You try your hardest not to make a noise, but you’re terrified.

“No point in hiding girls, we can smell you… Hear your heartbeats,” a deep voice remarks creepily. Your grip on the bat tightens, ready to swing. You see Melody shaking beside you with a pair of scissors in her hand. You all watch silently as they try moving the doorknob. Unfortunately, a locked door did little to stop a vampire. The door bursts open and hangs awkwardly half off of its hinges as the two vampires stride in.

“Well well well, what a pretty bunch,” The one who had spoken before looks over all of you in a way that made your skin crawl. He looked just as creepy as he sounded, with his dark, sunken eyes and crooked smirk, “And courageous too. It’s a shame we have to kill you, otherwise I turn you and make you all my little pets.”

“Go to hell,” you growl, sounding more confident than you felt. You’re ready to swing the bat the second he moves any closer. The guy behind him lets out a laugh and pushes his messy bangs back so he can look you in the eyes.

“You first, princess,” his ice blue eyes send a chill down your spine. The first one moves closer and you quickly swing the bat, but he catches it with ease. He yanks it from your grip, causing you to fall forward from the force.

“Did you really think that would work?” He smirks down at you. Just as he’s about to lift his foot to kick you, Melody rushes forward and drives the scissors towards his heart. She barely manages to cut him before the other guy has her pinned to the wall by her throat.

“LET HER GO!” You scream, looking at your cousin struggling to breathe.

“You little bitch… you really think some scissors can kill me?” The guy towering over you turns to her before looking back at you and pulling you up by your hair. His grip sends a searing pain through your scalp and you claw at his hand.

“Get off of me. Let. Her. Go!” You growl, watching angrily as Melody started to look as if she was going to pass out. Prita looks at you and then turns to rush over and knock herself into the guy holding Melody, causing her to fall from his grasp coughing and trying to get her breath back. Just as the guy is about to turn and grab Prita, a voice cuts in.

“Lay a hand on another one of them and I’ll make sure your death is as slow and painful as possible,” Taeil stands in the doorway, with two boys you’d never seen right behind him.

“I don’t understand how you could trust humans so easily and blindly,” the guy gripping your hair talks, still holding tight. He moves you out in front of him so Taeil can see your face, “Don’t you see they were trying to kill us?’

“Only because you attacked them first. You’ve been here for weeks. If they wanted to kill you or warn people about our kind they would have by now,” one of the guys behind Taeil speaks up.

“Your ways are outdated and largely unaccepted. Just because some mates are still human doesn’t mean we can’t trust them,” Taeil looks down at you then over to Melody and something dark flashing in his eyes, “Jungwoo, grab the girls and get them out of here.”

The one who’d spoken moments ago steps from behind Taeil and blocks the other vampire who had choked Melody, motioning for the girls to exit the room.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The guy he’s blocking pushes into him. From the way he looked, you could tell that Jungwoo wasn’t exactly the kind of person who cared to get violent, but the look in his eyes would make you think otherwise. He turns to the guy and looks him dead in the eyes.

“I’m protecting my clan,” he growls before ripping the other guy’s heart out in the blink of an eye. Your eyes widen in shock and you feel as though you’re about to puke. Hana screams and Mei looks faint, as she clutches Hana for support. As the guy’s body drops to the floor, the one gripping your hair pulls you closer to him, his fangs almost grazing over your neck. Tears stream down your face as you feel his breath against it.

“Oh, you’ve done it now,” you can hear the smirk in his voice as his fangs start to poke your neck. Before he can bite though you’re being pulled from his arms and against Taeil’s chest. The man flies back against the wall groaning.

“Funny you think you would stand a chance against me,” Taeil says steadily. He releases you and lightly pushes you behind him, into the arms of the guy who was standing quietly and waiting. Jungwoo ushers the others out of the room and grabs you as he leads you all to the living room. From the noise in your bedroom, you can tell Taeil had taken the guy out quickly. He and the third guy join you all in the living room.

“We have to get you girls out of here,” is all Taeil says.

“W-wait,” you grab his arm with a shaking hand before he can walk away, “What… What’s going on? Who are these guys?” You shakily wipe tears from your eyes as Taeil looks at you and lets out a deep sigh.

“This is Jungwoo and Yukhei. They’re newer members we recruited recently when we realized how bad this situation was becoming,” He starts to walk, signaling for you to follow him. As you all walk out of the building to the parking lot he continues to explain, “When we got back that day from explaining everything, the other group was extremely suspicious. They wanted to know why so many of us had randomly gone off without a word and all came back at once even though we left separately. They started to question everyone. We all made the decision to stay away for a bit in hopes that they would drop it and think it was nothing.”

“That clearly didn’t work,” you frown.

“No, it didn’t. Things got tense and we told them leave our territory, but it only caused more problems. They left, telling us we’d regret it,” Taeil stopped in front of your car, “It was at that moment I realized they had probably found where you guys were. So right after they left, we split up to follow them out and see if any of the strayed off course.”

“If you were following them then why did you even let them get into the apartment?” Melody cries, rubbing her now bruising neck.

“I went alone. I had to rush back to grab backup when I realized where they were going. I moved as fast as I could,” you can tell he’s upset he hadn’t gotten to you sooner. He looks up and unlocks your car. You hadn’t even realized he had grabbed your keys on the way out.

“Get in, I’m going to take you to the house and we’re going to keep you there. Jungwoo, clean up the bodies. Yukhei, follow me to make sure we aren’t being followed,” Taeil gets in your driver’s seat and the rest of you pile up in the back.

After driving for some time to the outskirts of town, Taeil pulls off onto a secluded road. After what seemed like ages, the trees on the sides of the road opened to reveal a large, dark house. As he parks, the boys come flooding out from the front door.

“Y/N!” Jaehyun catches you as you rush out of the car and fling yourself into his arms.

“Jae!” You hold him tightly, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He whispers calming words in your ear and runs a hand through your hair which causes you to wince in slight pain. He frowns and looks at Taeil, holding you a little tighter.

“What the hell happened?” You hear Johnny growl, assuming he had seen the bruises forming on Melody’s neck.

“These two guys… they broke into the apartment. We tried to fight them off… thankfully Taeil got there just in time,” your voice was quiet as you spoke.

“Of course, you would try to fend off vampires,” Jaehyun breathes out and you can almost hear a smirk in his voice, “You can’t fight off vampires baby.”

“It was worth a shot…” you let go of him enough to turn in his arms to look at everyone. You watch as Johnny takes Melody inside to take care of her. You look over at Prita, crying in Yuta’s arms. Hana and Mei looked as though they were still in shock, trembling in the arms of their mates. You hated how this had happened.

“Let’s get inside,” Jaehyun pulls you along into the house, taking you through the entry hall into a living room area. Taeyong was waiting there for you, leaning against the fireplace. Jaehyun pulls you down into his lap as he sits in a chair. The rest of the clan slowly trickles in, looking to Taeyong.

“What’s going on Taeyong… what are we supposed to do?” You look at the leader, watching as he paces.

“I can’t let what happened to my mate happen to any of you. We’ve gotten rid of them for now but they’re really after our territory… and now probably after you girls too,” Taeyong looks grim. It’s quiet for a few minutes as he thinks, everyone waiting for him to say something. Finally, he continues, “We can protect you all here, we have to keep an eye on you now.”

“I mean our apartment is wreaked anyway so I don’t really mind…” You let out an exasperated sigh. Jaehyun pokes you in the side, signaling that this isn’t a time to joke.

“D-didn’t you say that… that they only want to kill us cause we’re humans and they feel threatened by that?” Hana speaks for the first time in the past hour.

“Well, yes technically that’s why. That, and because they want our territory so they’ll do anything they can to affect us. Including going after mates,” Taeyong stops pacing and looks at her.

“So, what if we were vampires too?” She squeezes Sicheng’s hand as she looks at him next to her, “Then you guys won’t have to worry about losing us as much right?”

“No-“ “Not happening!” “Do you realize what that means?” All the guys start to protest at once.

“You’ve barely lived. Most of us didn’t have a choice when we were turned. That’s not a decision you make lightly,” Johnny runs a hand down his face with a groan.

“Yeah, this isn’t exactly the ideal life, granted some of our situations are a little different,” Jeno sends a glare around the room, stopping specifically on Jaehyun and Yuta.

“Stop giving us the death glare, at least we didn’t kill you,” Yuta rolls his eyes.

“Only because of Y/N being Jaehyun’s mate,” Donghyuck yells from the back of the room.

“Wait, you would have killed them?” You look at Jaehyun, confused.

“Okay look! Enough arguing about it. Girls, they’re right. It’s not an easy life and most people don’t choose it directly. With mates of course it does get more complicated if you aren’t already a vampire,” Taeil steps in to shut everyone up.

“You could be giving up the kind of life you may want outside of this, like Johnny said, this isn’t something to be taken lightly,” Taeyong crosses his arms with a sigh.

“Well then let’s talk about it and figure it out,” you look him in the eyes, completely serious. Everyone turns to you, slightly shocked.

“Wait seriously? A few months ago, you wanted nothing to do with Jaehyun and now you’re actually taking this into consideration?” Doyoung looks at you like you’ve grown an extra head.

“I know that sounds a little crazy coming from me, but you should be proud I want to actually talk about it and that I’m not just making a decision,” you roll your eyes.

“That’s not a bad idea, we can weigh out the pros and cons,” Herin backs you up. You smile at her in return.

“Okay then, let’s start throwing them out,” Taeyong leans back against the wall in front of everyone.

“We’ll be stronger, so you guys won’t have to worry about protecting us all the time. What happened today wouldn’t happen again,” you start.

“While you’re not completely wrong, new vampires aren’t as strong as older ones. It’s something that grows over time,” Jaehyun says, running a hand up and down one of your arms.

“Okay well, what about the fact that we know we want to be with you guys, and we’re meant to be together? The only way we end up together forever is if we’re vampires too, right?” Melody’s voice is faint as she speaks. You’re a little surprised she felt that strongly considering your cousin hadn’t been involved in any of this until recently. You knew she had a point though.

“Well it’s not like we have to turn you right now. We have quite a few years before you actually start aging,” Taeil looks over to her as he speaks.

“What if we don’t care to wait and we’re sure about it?” Prita counters.

“Think about the fact that you have to drink blood to survive. You’re weakened by the sun. You live forever which means you have to watch your whole family die basically,” Mark argues against her.

“Speaking of families, if you’re vampires you stop aging so you’ll have to let your family go before they start to see you aren’t getting any older,” one of the boys you recognize from the apartment earlier, Yukhei, speaks up.

“It can really suck not getting to see your family, or your friends,” Jaemin frowns thinking back on the past year without you and Hana in his life. The boys who had been turned a little over a year ago would know that pain better than anyone.

“If we were turned now, our parents wouldn’t have to know. We’d have a few years to spend with them and come to terms with it,” You say confidently. You feel like you could be okay with it as long as you had the time to say goodbye, though the idea still hurt a lot.

“They’re making good points Taeyong. Not only that, but if they do turn, we would have more vampires and that clan would be much less likely to try and take our territory. They’re already slightly outnumbered, we could widen that gap,” Ten, who you rarely seemed to see, adds in.

“Let’s take a few days to think about it, and we can come to a group decision then. Is everyone okay with that?” Taeyong looks around the room at his clan. Everyone nods in agreeance, “We’ll talk about this again in three days then. For now, get some rest.”

You sigh and sink back into Jaehyun’s arms as everyone disperses. He holds you close, resting his chin on your shoulder as he speaks, “We have a lot to think about now, don’t we?”

#lurking in the dark #lurking #kpop angst #kpop aus #kpop vampire au #nct imagines #nct imagine #kpop imagine #kpop imagines #nct vampire au #nct vampire #vampire jaehyun #vampire au #jaehyun imagine

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