#monster fanficiton

[riewritten]

PLEASE DEFINITELY DO A CONTINUATION OF THAT FIC ‼️🗣

i don't think this is a continuation tho, just a longer version (HELP) context for new readers, this is the fic being referenced here: two-faced monster:)

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HOW LOVELY IS YOUR DWELLING PLACE

LIEBERT TWINS x FEM!READER

SYNOPSIS: In a grim, all-girls dormitory, you find solace in Anna, a perfect friend who appeared just in time to quench your thirst for light. Only if her presence doesn't have frightening repercussions.

TAGS: manipulation, college/university, obsessive tendencies

WORDS: 3.4k | AO3

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It is none but an old all-girls dormitory standing across your campus, one that interests conservative parents with female daughters because of two factors: first, they equate the “exclusive for females” branding as a vanguard against outside predators, and second (perhaps a quirky one at that), it looks more of a convent than a dormitory, so much that even its female tenants act like hushed nuns even in common areas. The dreary place just doesn't seem encouraging for people to be loud—that and the dorm manager acts like a librarian even in the cafeteria.

Whenever you walk along the hallway to your room, the sound of your heels echoes through the wooden walls that are dulled by years of neglect. And yet the scent of old wax and damp stone clings to the floor, heavy and nose-crunching, uncomfortably so.

You seem to notice these facts every mundane day after school. It makes studying more overwhelming for you, though you're too ashamed and prideful to point it out to your parents.

That's why you were so thankful she arrived.

“Looking for a Female Tenant: One Room Available. Please Inquire at Room 204.”

You didn’t think much of it at first, really. Plenty of students cycle in and out of this quiet dormitory. You know, because you've been here as soon as you started college, it's not unusual for someone to need a new roommate.

It is until she appears, with her slender figure, rich golden hair, and bright blue eyes—just right before you can dip yourself into the hot bath you prepared an hour earlier.

“I heard you’re looking for a tenant.”

Her soft voice snaps you out of a stupor. “I—uh, yeah—wait, what? No, I'm not.”

“Oh?” If the girl is amused at your stammering, she doesn't show any sign of it. Instead, she starts looking confused. She looks up to double-check your room number and gasps, “Oh! Oh dear, I'm so sorry.”

“Heh, it's okay,” you give a sheepish smile at the equally embarrassed girl. Why are you embarrassed in the first place? It's not the first time you've met a pretty lady. “There,” you point a finger at the room in front of you, “that's Room 204.”

The girl turns her back and, true enough, the room she's been finding wasn't that far hence no reason to be flustered.

But her blush shimmers in the dim hallway light. Her soft eyes and serene smile when she thanks you almost bring back your awe. 

“That’s a shame, though. You seem like the kind of person I’d love to have as a roommate.”

“That's, uh…” What's the rational reply to not appear as though you're not stupidly flustered at her remark? “...too early to say…?”

“No, not really.”

“What do you mean?”

However, even before she can answer, the tenant from Room 204 coincidentally opens her door, distracting you both quickly.

The pin to the grenade is the very moment she turns at you again. She doesn't forget to flash you one more cute smile before mouthing, “See you around, sweetie.”

Maybe this dreary all-girls dormitory is not that dim after all. Who would’ve known a new uncanny but ethereal neighbor was the only answer?

And an uncanny one she is, because she starts acting like a neighbor from the countryside as soon as she settles in her new room. She gives you freshly cooked food, offers small talk in the hallway, and even, at one point, offers you to her room while her roommate is out.

There's something disarming about her, the way she speaks as though she had known you for years. She's not pushy, not at all, but she lingers in the conversation just enough to leave an impression.

And a few months in, Anna became a fixture in your life.

She seems to be everywhere—at the library where you study, in the cafeteria during lunchtime, and even walking the same routes as you between classes. 

How coincidental.

“Is it, though?” Anna replies when you tell her that humorously. “Maybe you only noticed me when I started making my presence known.”

“Heh,” you roll your eyes, already used to Anna's strange humor. “I bet you are.”

“No, really,” Anna laughs. “Did you think I never existed just because you had never seen me?”

“There's no way I wouldn't see a girl as beautiful as you are,” you blurt out, a bit too honest for your own good, but that's a fact you can own; hence, you just roll your eyes.

Anna stays silent, but her recognition of your statement is palpable when she slides her broad hands to yours and leans her head to your shoulders. 

“Oh, dear. How lucky it is to be praised by you.”

Before long, the two of you fall into an easy camaraderie. Why, you ask?

It's because Anna is the most ideal person to be friends with. She's considerate but always honest. She always seems to know how to brighten your day. Whether it's by asking you for a meal after a long class or visiting you in your room to help rearrange your desk for better lighting, among many other mundane but lovely gestures, she becomes your closest friend just easily.

“My roommate hasn't been home the past few weeks,” you sigh one evening while eating dinner.

Anna, who is sitting in front of you in a nearby restaurant, then asks, “Since when?”

“Hm,” When was it again? You barely remember it because you've been too accustomed to Anna's presence. “I think it's not long after you started living in 204.”

“Do you feel lonely?”

“No, not really. We're not that close, but if it stays that way for another week, the dorm manager would need to ask me about her whereabouts. How am I supposed to answer?”

“Then tell her you don't know. How else are you supposed to answer?”

“Even if she finds it strange that I was never close to my roommate for years?”

“Why does it matter? You're close to me.”

Well, that's a fair point. You just don't like when other people think you're strange in any way or form. It's not like you can deconstruct it with your silent but ever-so-probing Anna.

“Meh, okay, then. I just hope nothing bad happened to her.”

Anna doesn't respond and instead lets you talk about the rest of your day.

But then, as soon as you go back to your respective rooms, you see your dorm manager cleaning out your roommate's stuff.

And, for some reason, your room starts feeling like a dim, dusty convent again. So alone, so dreary without your Anna.

“She was found dead by the river. Police deduce it's a suicide,” the manager says as if it's nothing, “will post a finding tenant flyer tomorrow, don't worry. If you're too scared to sleep, tell me so I can assign you to another room until you get a roommate.”

And then she leaves the room. You are left wide-eyed and frozen.

Your gaze then adverts all over the room. Perhaps it's not just a dim old space; in fact, it got worse in your eyes. The grim is suddenly looming at every corner of the room. The cold of the ceiling is starting to gnaw its claws at you, resolute to consume you until you're one and the same—dreary and cold objects.

You need to stop feeling like this. You don't want to be consumed by this place.

Please, you cannot survive college in this state.

You need warmth. Oh, so desperate for warmth.

“Darling, won't you let me in?”

Anna seems to materialize out of thin air. She knocks softly on your door. You open it. Her smile is quite brighter than the sun that had awoken you, framed by her golden side bangs that always fall perfectly into place no matter the time of the day

“I saw the flyer,” she says. “Are you really looking for a new roommate?”

You hesitate, glancing at the notice that had been pinned up on the bulletin board by the hallway. You hope you can reciprocate Anna's smile, but you just had a nightmare about your roommate. You're too scared to look at the news, too scared to talk about it.

You realize you can't live another night in this room alone. It will make you crazy.

“Please,” you admit, tears welling up your eyes. “It’s… kind of sudden.”

Anna's smile fades, but she doesn't ask you to expound. Instead, she clasps her hands to yours, “Come on now, you don't need to plead. I’d love to move in.”

Her words—despite the dreadful situation—have warmed you, and without thinking too hard about it, you ask. “Can you start packing up tonight? Please, Anna?”

Anna doesn't need to agree. All she has to do to assure you is cup your cheek and kiss your forehead. “Anything for you,” she softly whispers thereafter.

How lovely is this dwelling place if Anna is here, indeed?

Living with Anna is easier than you can ever imagine. Not only because you were already friends before she moved in but also because of Anna's personality.

She's comfortable—almost too comfortable. 

She’d often sit on your bed while you changed, chatting about mundane things as if the moment were completely ordinary. And you didn’t mind, why would you? So what if you're bare-naked? You once asked her if it's okay for you to change clothes while she's there (because she seems to be always fully clothed even in your most comfortable wear). She told you there's no problem with that, and at one point she even gave you the underwear you forgot to grab while you were changing.

It's like having a sister, someone you can trust implicitly.

Some nights, when the air is particularly cold, Anna crawls under your blanket and cuddles you; her presence is a soothing balm against the chill. You then realize that she's an affectionate touchy girl, but she's one who never oversteps, never makes you feel uneasy—if anything, her touch is calming, grounding.

It is until that one, fateful night when you jolt at your bed after having another nightmare about your former roommate. She was warning you, emotionally so, to be careful. Then someone pushed her to the river. Then you saw a man blurred by the shadows of the rainy night. You squint your eyes and yet you can't see his features. And yet—and yet—you can feel that he's smiling. Blankly smiling.

It’s late, and the apartment is quiet save for the faint hum of the heater. Anna—unfortunately so—had gone out for an errand, leaving you alone for the night. You sit on your bed, trying to process your dream, a restless energy gnawing at you from every corner of the room. Something feels off. You couldn’t quite name it—at least not at first—until you took a look at Anna's bed.

It's empty, just as if nobody has ever occupied it ever since your roommate died. At one point, as though you're inebriated from the dream, you ask yourself if Anna was even real, or perhaps she was none but a fragment of your imagination.

It is not until you notice a slight inconsistency since that night the dorm manager reported the news of your roommate's death. 

Atop the bedside table stands a plain beige notebook.

You pick the notebook up, but then a photograph falls onto the floor, as if begging for your beloved attention, its edges worn and creased, as though it’s been handled countless times.

The picture is of a boy. His features are striking—sharp cheekbones, pale blue eyes, and golden hair that catches the light in a way that seems almost otherworldly. For a moment, you think it’s Anna’s brother or some distant relative, but then the realization hits you like a tidal wave.

You open the notebook almost aggressively, and another photograph daunts you—another one begging to be seen. 

And then, you realize.

The boy in these photos is Anna.

Or rather, it’s Anna without the long hair and feminine polish. The resemblance is uncanny, and yet the expression on her face is entirely different. Cold. Detached. It’s the kind of look that sends a chill down your spine, even as the warmth of the room clings to your skin.

Your hands tremble as you stare at the photo. You try to rationalize it—maybe Anna has a twin, or maybe you were imagining things—but the longer you look, the clearer it becomes. The boy in the picture and the woman you’ve come to know are one and the same.

You drop the photo as though it’s burned you, heart pounding in your chest as if begging to be let out so it can escape by itself. You stumble back, breathing unevenly, and your mind races with countless questions.

Maybe Anna is just a queer girl? The kind that your parents seem to hold in disdain? But then again, how can she not tell you? Does she not trust you the way you trust her? Maybe she really has a twin brother? One that she coordinates with to make this show more believable? Is that why you have always felt her walls up high even during the moments you've lowered yours? Why? Why? Why?!

You flip the notebook—much to the rising dread in your chest—and you find yourself digging through its contents. What else is in there? What other truths has Anna—or whoever they are—been hiding from you?

The entries are meticulous, written in neat, precise handwriting. But it’s the content that leaves your stomach churning.

"She likes her tea with a bit of honey. Always asks for extra sugar in her coffee when she’s had a rough day."

"She hums when she’s focused, especially when reading."

"She trusts too easily. I wonder how long that will last."

Your breath catches, and the notebook slips from your hands, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

On the bedside table where the notebook formerly rests, you find more. A stack of newspaper cutouts and photographs, but the most gut-wrenching ones are the IDs.

Franz Heinau.

Michael Reichmann.

Erich Springer.

Anna Liebert.

Johan Liebert.

The weight of the realization crashes over you, suffocating and inescapable. This is no coincidence; it's not just an innocent friendship or a truth too shaming to be told; regardless if these people are one and the same person or they are twins or, hell, even quintuplets—what matters most is that you’re being watched all this time. You’re a study, an object of manipulation, and worst of all, a laughing stock for being fooled.

“Found something interesting?”

You didn't even notice the door creaking open behind you.

You freeze, blood running cold as you hear the soft footsteps that follow. Slow and deliberate. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

The voice—perhaps his original voice—is calm, steady, just like Anna's, but it sends a shiver down your spine. You turn slowly, clutching the edge of the desk for support, and there he is.

“Who are you?”

The one you recognized in the ID card as Johan Liebert stands in the doorway, the long golden hair still framing the godly face perfectly, his serene smile unchanging, but now you see him for what he truly is.

Questions pile up again. Is that their true form? Or are they wearing a wig to deceive you? Or maybe they really are five separate entities, all fooling you like this is none but a funny prank? Is this a joke to them? Were they laughing at you? Are they still laughing now?

“I asked who you are!”

“Who am I, indeed?” he says, his tone gentle, almost soothing. “Who do you think I am?”

“Y-you—” you stammer, collecting every inch of your sanity falling down the ground from the revelation. You try to pick it up yourself by pushing a hand through your hair. “What are these?”

He steps closer, his movements unhurried, as though you weren’t standing there on the verge of collapse.

And yet he doesn't answer.

That brings your patience to the edge of the precipice. “All this time you've been lying to me!”

“Those weren't lies,” he says evenly, “but assumptions you made on your own.”

“How could you do this? Are you pretending to be Anna? Is that your real form?”

“Real form,” he muses. “Interesting take. Why—”

You cut him off by throwing all the ID cards on the floor harshly. The dorm manager might come here to scold you for making noise without closing the door.

Yet you couldn't care less. Instead you shout, “All these IDs bear the same face! Are you pretending to be someone else? Pretending to be my friend? Wha—” you let out a ragged exhale, deeply horrified. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because it was working,” he points out, cryptic yet again. 

Such a simple answer. The casual dismissal ignites a flame of anger in your chest. Your fists clench, vision blurry with tears of rage and betrayal.

“Spill everything now. Tell me or else I'll tell you off to the dorm manager.”

If Johan is threatened by that, he shows no sign of it. Instead he blankly asks, “What will happen then? What happens next once the dorm manager is aware of it?”

“Then I will never see you again. You have no right to stay here if you can't even explain yourself. You have no right to stay in my life if you've fooled me this much for nothing!”

“You don't want to be with me anymore?”

What kind of question is that?

Your gaze drifts upward, to a plain white ceiling forming monsters as tears blur your eyes out of frustration.

“No, more importantly. Aren't you wondering how I got to show myself up at your door, in this form?”

How dumb of you to realize it now.

How absolutely dumb, indeed, to remember that your roommate stopped showing up the time Anna stepped in.

For a moment, it feels as if this dormitory has always been a dark horrific place, cradling the darkness and seeping into every crevice of your already dreary soul. 

The feeling is so hopeless that you just can't say anything. Hence you end up repeating your demand, “Tell me everything, or I'll never see you again.”

How irrational, when there are greater things to worry about.

And such harsh words, indeed, because you've grown so attached to Anna.

“Never see me again, hm.”

And such harsh doubts he'd shown at you. As if you're blabbering like a toddler unable to stay firm in your words.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Two short sentences hit you like a physical blow, your anger draining away. All replaced by a cold, unrelenting fear. His voice is calm, almost gentle, but it sure has a weight. One that could crush you.

You have to remind yourself that this person has a notebook filled with all the things he had noticed about you while you were being fooled. And your roommate's disappearance before being revealed dead. And the looming realization that the same fate might've happened already with your dorm manager. You've been too angry at the deception that you forgot the actual perilous situation at hand.

“Why?” you whisper, voice trembling. “Why would you do this? Why go to such lengths?”

For a long moment, he doesn’t answer. It's as though his silence is the consolation for his grandiose scheme of manipulation.

But then, you realize that his silence is waiting. It's pondering on what you'd do next, awfully so, because perhaps this monster is awfully curious about it.

Are monsters capable of reason?

“I—” you step back, voice shaking with a mix of fury and fear, eyes glancing sideways to find something to defend yourself. “I never want to see you again. You have no right to be here, no right to—”

You pause upon noticing Johan's gaze softening further, curiosity finally quenched as he finally figures out what you are to do.

“Your family lives not far from here, don’t they?”

He has finally figured out that you're resolute to cut him off, after all. It's his turn to lay out his plan of action, no?

“I wonder how they’re doing right now.”

You halt.

The room spins; your stomach churns violently. The implication is clear, its weight crushing your will and soul way worse than this dormitory ever did. He knows. He knows where they are, and he’s telling you—without saying it outright—that their safety hinges on your compliance.

He steps closer, his hand reaching out to brush a tear from your cheek.

And in that moment, you realize the truth: to be free of him is to kill him. And Anna. And the others, too—Franz, Michael, Erich—if they were to show themselves in front of you as well.

But then, with all the marking done from your dwelling place up to the deepest of your thoughts, you wonder if killing them would indeed be enough to be cleared of the horrors.

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JOIN THE TAG LIST | @imkumichan @s0m4-sh4rk @xeiin-n @itswildoutthere @roketbaby @ellabellapumela @skexxll @melonvrs @nefarra @i88b0nten @eowwy @chxrry-writes

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[pretty-batty]

Hey Eddie fans!

Do you want monster!eddie? A jewish main character? Queer experiences? Family trauma? Spooky Happenings?

Well I got the fic for you. If you don't mind some oc action, Judy Sondheim's summer in Hawkins will fill any Eddie sized holes you have.

Eldath's Priestess

He's been waiting in the dark, and he's ready to come home.

[lunarthecorvus]

Grisha!Kaz Brekker Alternate Universe fanfiction recommendations

part of Lunar's soc fanficiton rec series

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The Etovost Plague by Spikey44

Wordcount: 139k Chapters: 37/37

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, Nina Zenik, Kuwei Yul-Bo

Tags: Grisha Kaz Brekker, Post-Canon, Dead Matthias Helvar, Sorry, Not KoS/RoW canon compliant, Kaz is a Tidemaker. Sort of, some gore, scenes of plague, Don't worry only characters no one cares about die, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm

Author's summary/notes: Twenty-eight months after Kuwei Yul-Bo was shot dead and the plague sirens sounded throughout Ketterdam a new and terrifying sickness sweeps through the Barrel: a plague with a unique connection to Jurda Parem. But this time it’s not the Grisha who need to fear. It’s everyone else. This becomes that, and like no longer calls to like, forcing old crows to wing back to Ketterdam as chaos unlike anything they have seen before erupts through the Barrel, threatening to destroy all of Ketterdam and plunge the world into war. But it's a more personal fear that haunts Inej, Nina, Jesper and Wylan when Dirtyhands goes missing at the start of the plague outbreak. Now the Crows must grapple with the sorrow that Kaz may be dead and the even greater terror that the Etovost scourge has turned the Barrel's resident monster into a living nightmare hell-bent on destroying them all. Post-canon AU where a new Jurda Parem variant transforms normal people into Grisha. Starting with the Barrel Bosses. Uh-oh! My summary/notes: Having Kaz turn into a grisha is such an intruiging concept and I ate it up, at the same time its tragic because of the way being a tidemaker effects him and triggers his trauma. It will get real intense so be prepared. The villain in this fic is so interesting. An unexpected intersting part of this fic was reading the crows be a team without having Kaz as their leader sometimes. I love Inej in this fic so much. BAMF's Inej and Anika. Inej and Kaz have some cute moments. The ending eeee. My quick summary is the barrel goes to shit when a plague enters.

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On Black Feathered Wings by @martinakl13

Wordcount: 139k Chapters: 37/37

[this fic is also a grisha!Inej and grisha!Matthias au]

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, Nina Zenik, Matthias Helvar, Jan Van Eck, Alys Van Eck, Pekka Rollins, Jordie Rietveld, Aditi Hilli, Tante Heleen, Councilman Hoede, Imogen, Per Haskell, Doughty, Dregs Ensemble, Dime Lions Ensemble, Kaz Brekker's Father, Original Characters, Inej Ghafa's Mother, Inej Ghafa's Father, Matthias Helvar's Mother (mentioned), Matthias Helvar's Father (mentioned), Matthias Helvar's Sister (mentioned), Anya, Joost Van Poel, Gert Van Verent, Mikka, Kuwei Yul-Bo, Anika, Pim

Tags: Alternate Universe - Character Swap, Grisha Kaz Brekker, Grisha Inej Ghafa, Grisha Wylan Van Eck, Jordie Rietveld Lives, Aged-Up Character(s), Forced Prostitution, Human Trafficking, Misogyny, Racism Violence, Sexual Content, The Menagerie, Flashbacks, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Lovers, Lovers To Enemies, unexpected relationships, Angst, POV Alternating, Jurda Parem, First Meetings, Bad Parent Jan Van Eck, Grisha Matthias Helvar, Abuse, Dyslexia, Rape, Humiliation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Beating, Heist, Sexual Tension, Kaz constantly giving Inej flowers, Mutual Pining, Soulmates

Author's summary/notes: Inej Ghafa is a talented acrobat, but only her closest family knows that she uses her special power during her performances. Wylan Van Eck was sent to Ravka to be trained as a Grisha, but when he returns years later, his home is no longer his home. Matthias Helvar has powers he never asked for, and his family wants to keep him safe. What is the best way to hide Grisha in Fjerda? Among the drüskelle. Nina Zenik is a soldier of the First Army, gifted with excellent language skills. Jesper Fahey moves with his mother to Ketterdam after the tragic death of his father and the loss of their farm due to debts. Kaz Brekker has powers that no one has seen before. Or? My summary/notes: This fic is part of a series so there is a part 2 that is being regularly updated. Be prepared for this fic to simultaneously destroy and heal you. I live for the use of flower symbolism, its so adorable. I loved learning about the kind of grisha Kaz is, and reading Inej as a grisha is just so cool I need more grisha!Inej. Matthias being a grisha is so interesting, and reading Nina + Jesper as normal is so fascinating. Aditi is queen and this fic has Pim and Anika, I love those two so much.

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The Bastard's Brother by FlatApple

Wordcount: 214k Chapters: 66/66

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Dregs Ensemble, Jordie Rietveld, Wylan Van Eck, Nina Zenik, Matthias Helvar, Jan Van Eck, Original Background Characters, (they're not important don't worry)

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Kaz is a Grisha, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Starvation, Touch-Averse Kaz Brekker, Haphephobia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Organized Crime, Whump, Kaz Brekker is Bad at Feelings, POV Kaz Brekker, (mostly), Paranormal, Graphic Description of Corpses, Kaz Brekker is a feral orphan for large portions of this, Corpsewitch Kaz, Warning for strong language, Gang Violence, Heist, Slow Burn, Kaz Brekker-centric, Canon Rewrite, Ghost Jordie Rietveld, Good Sibling Jordie Rietveld, BAMF Kaz Brekker, Pining, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Sickfic, Hurt Kaz Brekker, Fever Dreams

Author's summary/notes: Kaz Brekker’s Mother was Ketterdam. His Father was profit. But Kaz Brekker’s Brother? That was Death. Or, the one where Kaz has been a Corpsewitch all along. My summary/notes: Reading Jordie as a ghost was so sad, the author managed to write him so well, this fic answers the question of what would Jordie's reactions be to Kaz's ruthless actions. We get to see young struggling feral kaz (it will break your heart) and we get to see Kaz grow. Every dynamic between the crows is explored and its so interesting to read. This fic part of a series and there is more.

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The Bastard Saint of the Barrel by Spikey44

Wordcount: 152k Chapters: 46/46

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Nina Zenik, Matthias Helvar, Jesper Fahey, Jordie Rietveld, Pekka Rollins, Wylan Van Eck, Jan Van Eck, Kuwei Yul-Bo

Tags: Grisha Kaz Brekker, Jordie Rietveld Lives, Kaz is Corporalnik this makes everything worse, Kaz is a Dime Lion, Pekka Rollins owns Kaz's indenture, Jordie is Dregs, Kaz has a new alias, A Kaz by any other name is still a bastard, Inej remains awesome in all realities, Jordie makes the deal with Jan Van Eck, Matthias is probably gonna live, Elements of Six of Crows reworked with Living Jordie/Grisha Kaz, Canon Disabled Character, Touch-Averse Kaz Brekker, warning for drug use eg: Jurda Parem and its effects, warning for mild depersonalisation and dissociation in ch 8

Author's summary/notes: In a story of star-crossed brothers, where Kaz's grisha powers save Jordie but don't save him from Pekka Rollins, Kaz becomes the Bastard Saint of the Barrel; Rollins personal Healer and the most feared Grisha to haunt Ketterdam's seedier streets. This upsets Jordie quite a bit. In an attempt to pay off Kaz's indenture, and save his brother from the threat of Jurda Parem, Jordie Rietveld, Dregs Lieutenant and confidence man, makes a deal with Jan Van Eck to perform an impossible heist. Naturally, Kaz, busybody extraordinaire, is not about to let his brother screw up in a foreign land alone. He's going to steal his brother's heist and one Bo Yul-Buyur --or his nearest relative, whatever works best --and save his idiot big brother from a Fjerdan prison. And if this means running out on Rollins -well, thirty thousand Kruge should be more than enough money to pay his way out trouble. Right? My summary/notes:

[lapdogchase]

hey nik my good mutual nik aropride just dropping in to say like. good luck with the situationship (?)??? its been fucking crazy following along w all of this. not that its over but there's only so many times i can make an incredulous face at my laptop screen over some new development before i go well i should probably say what im thinking which is good luck dude + really hope it works out good + fucking INSANE situation to be in?? literally fanfic plot levels of... something. anyway. u got folks cheerin for u 👍

i feel so crazy man like what is even going on !!! our friendship has literally always been like this too it's awesome ... in middle school he was almost my first kiss in like high school we would hide in the back stairwell before classes and share monster and trade hoodies and listen to music on his wired earbuds and now he pours chasers into my mouth at the club . we met when my sister had been out of the nicu for less than two months and now she's 13 years old and sentient . And we still act like this . this is some shit i would have written in a gay fanficiton when i was 15 . i am COOKED .

^i was going to photoshop the guy on the right into the colors of the bi flag but i gave up

[ancha-aus]

I did it

I actually did it.

What did I do you may ask?

I finished it.

I just completed the main story for Ancients & Champions!!

The story I am talking about.

Rambling under the read more line

Okay! So. Obviously this is not the final final wordcount. Seeing as I will still need to edit the chapters and reread stuff but this is about the final wordcount.

And let me tell you. The last time i did an update like this I had just hit chapter 91 with writing and felt like I was close to the ending and said that if I had to write another 10 chapters I would go insane.

Oh silly me. Oh how I was wrong.

Because here we are. Not only did I write those last ten chapters but i OVERSHOT it.

It feels strange at this point to actually be done with writing the main story and main storyline. Again it isn't yet finished finished but the story has ended and it is... strange.

I should be relieved honestly. I have been writing this in my off time since we were still in a pandemic, 2021, and I am close to counting three years with writing it.

It was a journey and a half and honestly I think I am a better writer now than when I started. Hell when i reread some of the stuff i wrote near the start i still get the feeling i want to change some wording or characterization because along the process i really settled on hwo i wanted everyone to act and be. (really considering rewriting the sidestory about Error's backstory but i will contain myself for now)

The thing is. I never actually finished a fanficiton before. (and then she writes a 430K thing yes i can see the irony) it is just. I lost interest in the stories i wrote before so it is strange to actually finish this absolute monster of a fanfiction (aaayyyy i will show myself out)

I am not done with this universe I ended up creating just yet. The fact I started this whole thing because i wanted NightmareXSansXError things is still real funny to me. It just got out of hand so quickly and because i started with just writing for only myself it just kept growing.

But I loved the journey and everyone who on AO3 followed along and the few people here who are nice enough to follow me and my story.

It was a fun ride and as i said. I am not quite done with this universe just yet. But I would be lying if it isn't great that i now have more space to write other ideas i had. and i had quite a few ideas. We will see what the future brings.

See you people around and if i see you at the story, remember, updates every sunday until we are done.

See you sunday.

[legofanguy1999]

Dad December day 10 "Are you okay?"

A Inuyasha fanficiton for @daddecember event Dad December day 10 "Are you okay?" featuring my Inukag fankid Akio.

Akio sit by a pound, looking down on his cursed dog ears and he growl on how it make him a outcast. As Akio start to become more mad at his dog ears, a voice then call out, "Hey, son." and Akio turn to see his father Inuyasha whose ask his son, "Are you okay?" and Akio reply, "Go away, dad. I just has a bad day. I don't want to talk about it." Inuyasha have a feeling what is going on and he said, "Okay. I understand that some stupid people are calling you a monster. Those stupid people are saying you should not be here." and Akio was surpsied and he ask his father, "Wait, how did you know that what those kids said?" and Inuyasha said, "So, it was some kids, huh." Akio look down and he then said, "Yeah. Some kids from another village visiting. They were calling me names and they calm that you were a dangerous yokai." and his father said to his son, "I understand what you went through, son. People actually call me those things too when I was a boy like you. Their words hurt me hard that I turn my heart cold and I wanted to be a true Yokai, but that all changed when I meet your mother whose open my eyes that I'm someone special, not a monster." and Inuyasha then ask Akio, "Feeling better, Akio?" and Akio reply, "I'm feeling better, dad." Akio got on his father's back and Inuyasha jump back home.

[smoshrot]

have a really cool idea for a spencer and courtney fanficiton that uses a similar fantasy reality fusion concept as she kills monsters but makes it a trillion times better and not uncomfortable but i don't really do fantasy content so you guys just have to trust that this could have been really cool and i'm a really good writer who could have made it awesome

[wowtalesofadventurers]

Monster Lover's March 2025 day 28 centaur

A World of Warcraft fanficiton for @monluvmarch event Monster Lover's March 2025 day 28 centaur.

The human scout Gwen has begin to enjoy the company of the Maruuk Centaur, even a male centaur hunter named Posegeus, whose let her ride on his horse body.

[annoyed-galaxy]

Fictober 2024 ~ 24

"you didn't do anything wrong"

Fanficiton: DA2 The amount of angst in DA2 when you really sit down and think about and romance the martyr is insane. These two drive me crazy. Can also be found on Ao3

Sleep did not come easily to him. The memory of her face was still fresh in his mind. It had been two weeks, but Seth felt like it was yesterday. He lay in bed, a warm body laying next to him, the head of his blonde lover resting on his chest. His arm was wrapped around the other man and the soothing, quiet snores was relaxing. Even still, Seth could not sleep. 

Anytime he closed his eyes, he saw his mother’s eyes, at least, the stolen eyes of someone else on her face. She had been turned into a horrific monster, a mix of several different women. Tears rolled down his face as he imagined what horrible atrocities that mage had done to her. How long did she suffer while he waffled about Kirkwall? Why didn’t he protect her? He failed her. Just like he failed her when Bethany died. When Carver got infected with the Blight. 

He tried to hold back the sob that broke free from his throat, but failed that too. Anders stirred, letting out a yawn that was pretty adorable and Seth would have smiled at it, but he was trapped in his grief. Anders looked up at him, sleeping still clearing out from his eyes. However, concern immediately flooded them when he saw Seth’s face. Anders shifted and put a hand on Seth’s cheek. “What’s wrong, love?” 

Seth looked away, roughly wiping away his tears. “Nothing. Sorry to wake you.” 

Anders frowned. “You can’t just say that,” the mage said curtly. He tugged Seth’s face back to look at him. “Tell me what’s wrong? Can you not sleep?” 

Seth couldn’t look into Anders’s eyes. It felt wrong to be held like this, comforted by a man he fell in love with at first glance. Since they finally admitted their feelings to each other, Anders had started to stay at Seth’s house more. Seth’s mother would tease Seth about it, happy that her son found someone he truly loved. They would chat in late nights about Anders, about how happy the mage made Seth and she would listen, a bright smile on her face. It reminded her of her romance with Seth’s father. 

Then, when the night got too late, Seth would help his mother up the stairs and into her room. She would kiss his head good night and wish him sweet dreams, despite being a grown adult. Then he would leave her room and cast a spell on the door that would alert him if anyone went in or out. After losing Bethany and Carver being forced to the Grey Wardens, Seth had become slightly protective over his mother. Even though their relationship was rocky at times, he still loved his mother. She was all the family he had left. 

And he had failed in protecting her even still. 

Seth let out another sob as the thoughts flooded his head. Anders panicked and pulled Seth into him, holding the other mage close to his chest. Seth just let it out, crying into Anders’s neck. He failed. He failed. He failed. 

“I failed her,” he whimpered, voice barely coherent above his cries. 

“Shh…” Anders tried to hush him, running a hand down his back. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Seth shook his head. “I could have stopped that bastard. I should have been faster. I should have told my mother about the murders and the flowers and warned her. He mutilated her.” His voice shifted from cries to anger as he remembered his mother stumbling into his arms; her face on a body that was not her own with eyes that belonged to someone else. It had been a horrifying sight. Did she scream when the mage cut off her head? Was she already dead when the mage plucked out her eyes and replaced them with someone else’s? 

The thought of that mage ripping apart his mother made Seth seethe with rage and he screamed. Anders hugged him tighter, squeezing all that hate and rage out of him, trying to soothe him. The anger faded and Seth fell limp again, his cries returning. 

“I’m so sorry Mother,” Seth whispered.

“Seth…” Anders started. Seth pulled away from Anders’s embrace and slipped out of the bed. He walked over to the fireplace and leaned against the mantle, staring into the flames. The heat of the fire licked his bare skin and he took comfort in its warmth. 

“I won’t lose anyone else,” Seth whispered to himself, although Anders heard it in the silence. “I refuse.” His hand clenched on the mantle. “I won’t lose you.” It took a moment for Anders to realize Seth was talking about him. 

“Seth-“

“You keep acting like you’re going to die, but I won’t have it.” Seth turned and walked back to the bed, grabbing Anders by the shoulders. “I can’t lose you, too. I have to succeed in protecting someone. I can’t keep being a failure.”

“You’re not!” Anders insisted, holding onto Seth’s arms. “You did nothing wrong!”

“I wasn’t fast enough. I could have warned her. I was an idiot.”

“Stop it. You are not. Maybe there was something else you could have done, but what’s done is done. You cannot beat yourself up over the past. It will just destroy you.” Anders pulled Seth into a hug again. “You’re a good person, Seth. Unfortunately, bad things happen to good people. That’s doesn’t make you a bad person. It makes you a victim of circumstances.” 

Seth’s arms slid around Anders and he held him tightly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

Anders closed his eyes. I wish you would stop saying that, he thought to himself, the pain of his plans digging into his heart. “I know,” he said aloud instead. “And I won’t let anything happen to you.” Anders pulled them back onto the bed, laying down and holding Seth close to him. “Now, get some sleep, love.” 

Seth felt the tingle of magic in the air, but didn’t stop it. He needed it. He felt a coldness from Anders’s hand on the back of his head seep into his mind, caressing his thoughts like a cool breeze. His eyes fluttered and then shut. His mind eased into sleep, clear of thoughts thanks to the spell. 

Anders kissed him on the forehead, even though guilt ate him up. He was going to break Seth’s heart in the future and it was killing him. A slight bolt of pain shot through his mind as Justice’s mind pressed against his. It is what we must do, the spirit thought to him. Anders frowned and waved away the spirit’s thoughts and allowed himself to snuggle close to Seth and close his eyes. 

He would deal with the future when it came. 

[riewritten]

TO A POINT OF NO RETURN

ANNA LIEBERT x FEM!READER | READ ON AO3 TAGS: graphic depiction of violence, moral corruption, obsessive behavior, non-con kissing, proceed with caution WORDS: 1k DEDICATED TO: @suusoh my darling sweetie pie, one of the people I missed the most during the time I was gone ! i made this after finishing Killing Eve (which she recommended). i got inspired by how the main character loves it when her partner is lichrally dismembering people. i love messed-up lesbianism.

The tears blurring your vision couldn't wipe the horrendous sight of blood on your trembling hands. Poor Petr Čapek, no? He who had spent a life being an invincible evil force, now splayed down with neck open, face beyond recognition, and with a mouth as wide as his dead eyes, staring into your soul and now tainted conscience. After all, the mess is done by no other than you—in fact, no one in this world would've done such a thing, for Anna even. Anna herself knows it.

You look all over your surroundings and heighten your senses (or so you try) to grasp the very needed presence of mind only to no avail. The scent of blood pooling down Čapek's stomach and neck is starting to permeate your rationality, looming in the air and cradling the terror in your nerves.

And yet, at the corner of the room, you see the flabbergasted Anna kneeling and leaning against the door. Unlike the look of terror due to the sight of her abuser reliving the most painful memories of her childhood a while ago, her face now shows palpable awe.

No one in this world, and perhaps even beyond, would be willing to do this much for her. One might say her twin brother could, but she doesn't consider him because he is her and she is him. Only you, a completely separate entity, a girl whose life has been completely different than hers, came to understand what needs to be done.

Despite the trembling—which is not out of fear but of joyous reverence—she crawls towards you. She savors the sight of Čapek's bloody corpse first. Lovely. How utterly lovely. She couldn't help it.

“What the hell are you smiling for, Anna?!”

Your panicked voice turns her gaze towards you—her beautiful angel, her one and only glorious savior—and so then and there, you see her eyes gleam further. She crawls again, her knees stomping Čapek's corpse along the way, not minding the spurt of blood gushing out brought by that, and then she hugs you. Deeply, tightly, as if she has never done it before. She feels your rapid heartbeat upon her chest, your ragged breathing, and your soft sobs; oh, god knows how bad Anna wants to pin you more to her until you're inside, forever bound and inseparable.

“W-what have I done? God, what have I done?!”

“Shh,” Anna coos, “you did nothing wrong.” A tone softer and you would believe her words. The way she starts stroking your head didn't help either. “My lovely, lovely girl, you did nothing wrong.”

“No!” you push her away. “I-I killed him!” And so your eyes lay upon your bloody hands again. “I cannot turn this back—hah—I cannot—”

Anna gently squeezes your hand and brings it to her cheeks, smearing Čapek's blood on her porcelain skin before it dries up. You think you're soiled? Then she's soiled with you. You look like you're drowning in quicksand right now; are you scared? No worries, you have sealed your fate with her at this very moment. You're not gonna die alone.

“Anna, please listen—”

She couldn't help it anymore. She needs an outlet this instant. All the love she's kept in to keep you comfortable aches to be let out. And so she cuts you off with a kiss, deeply and almost harshly, with rigor and reverence. She licks the blood off the corner of your lip, then your chin, then your cheeks, before slipping it inside. You're too surprised to note how disgusting Čapek's blood tastes. You try to push her away until you feel her tears on your cheeks.

Oh no, Anna.

You let her on then, barely returning it, but when you feel like Anna is about to pin you to the ground, you gently retract. “Why are you crying, Anna?”

She checks to confirm. She is indeed crying, and yet she smiles—sweet and grateful—that you almost forget the matter at hand. She tries to open her mouth only to back off at the last second. What could she say that would not upset you further? Knowing your head to toe, Anna's sure you'd be more rattled if she decides to speak what's on her mind: You're no different from me now. Oh dearest girl, now you're tied to me. We'll never get separated again. No one in this world would've done this for me. Now let me do everything for you in return. You don't have to worry about anything else but letting yourself be loved by me. I love you. I love you. Oh god I love you—

“Anna?”

“Let me clean this up—” she gets a handkerchief out of her pocket and gently wipes your face. She kisses your hand before cleaning it next. “—before anybody else comes in.”

It daunts you again. “I—” you don't know how to start, “I don't know what came to me.”

Anna hums, offering you a safe space to let it out the way she just did.

“All I knew was—” you let out a ragged exhale, “was that he needs to stop talking. And your face, your horrified face, stricken by his words—I-I just can't—”

“Thank you,” she kisses your hand again, now cleaned up from the blood. She walks to her closet to get you fresh clothes before continuing, “Thank you for doing this.”

“Thank you?” you quote, aghast. “Do you have any idea how fucked we are right now?”

Anna, as if she hears nothing, raises up your bloody shirt. And you let her (or maybe you're trembling too much to even stop her), clothe you again. “We're not fucked, darling. Don't you know who I am?”

Indeed, who is Anna even? How could you do this much for her? After all, everything Čapek had said before the commotion unfolded was things you heard for the first time. What the hell is Red Rose Mansion? What about Anna being forcefully separated from her family due to an experiment? What about Anna having the potential to be the perfect subject only to no avail because of Bonaparta's rotten pity? Who the hell is Bonaparta, even?

“I know how to clean this up. Just sit tight and relax, understand?”

“Who are you really, Anna?”

“I used to wonder, too,” she cryptically responds.

Who is she, indeed? She and his twin brother were nameless monsters. They don't have names. They were the only two people in the world. His twin brother made the monster inside her sleep for a while after being adopted by the Lieberts. Only after a series of harassment from Čapek and his team who wanted to take her again did the monster awaken. And since then she has killed plenty. With no remorse, with no difference from her brother. As if they were both born just to do that. 

Now, Anna's question for the longest time is starting to get answered. Maybe Johan and her aren't very alike this time around—not anymore. And slowly, surely, she will adapt to this change, too. Just the same way you'll get accustomed to the new life ahead of you, a life bound to her and nobody else, a life where you'll get smothered with the flowers she'll give, a life where she doesn't have to hold back with the feelings she has for you.

“Who are you, Anna?” you start again, getting more confused at her tranquility.

Anna hoists a strand of your hair before kissing your forehead. With a loving sigh, she answers. “I'm yours. That's all that matters.”

The world could only hope you'd be able to take what's about to come from hereon.

TAGLIST: @s0m4-sh4rk @acid-bunnyy @xeiin-n | SUBSCRIBE TO STORIES

[legofanguy]

Belleast: Sleeping fluffy monster

This Beauty and the Beast fanficiton is for Shipuary 2024 day 22 peaceful.

Belle noticed that Beast is like a big dog taking a peaceful nap when he is sleeping.

[lunarthecorvus]

Six Of Crows Canon Divergence fanfiction recommendations

part of Lunar's soc fanficiton rec series

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The Pugilist's Creed by @bardelow

Wordcount: 123k Chapters: 30/30

Characters: Jesper Fahey, Kaz Brekker, Matthias Helvar, Nina Zenik, Inej Ghafa, Wylan Van Eck, Original Characters

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Violence, Gun Violence, Angst, Established Relationship, Slow Burn, Kidnapping, Major Character Injury, Gunshot Wounds, Matthias Helvar Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fjerda, Ketterdam, Canon-Typical Violence, Protective Kaz Brekker, multiple POVs, Inej Ghafa is THAT bitch, Really everyone is THAT bitch, Eventual Fluff, Slow burn Kanej, Established Wesper, established helnik, Helnik Wedding

Author's summary/notes: “I wonder if you’d be dragging your feet like this,” Nina spoke through gritted teeth. “If it was Inej’s life on the line.” A storm fell over Kaz’s features, but he did not move, did not let his eyes fall away. Instead, he spoke in a slow, calculated tone. “I’d choose your next words very carefully, little deathrender. However soft you think I’ve grown, remember that I am always willing to show you that the monster is still alive and well.” It's been sixteen days since Matthias and Wylan were taken, and Kaz Brekker has chased down every possible lead only to come up empty handed. However, with an angry Nina and desperate Jesper at his side, he is willing to do whatever it takes to find his missing crows and bring them back home - even if it means more blood on his hands. My summary/notes: The first part of this fic is VERY angsty and consists of Nina and Jesper being mad at Kaz. Kaz is gen really trying to do his best. This fic comes with a side of badass Inej scenes. The rescue mission/'heist' was so fun to read even if it was intense and emotional. Matthias' POV's are written brillantly and I loved seeing the way his mind worked, he was very book!Matthias in this fic. I will end this with saying Inej, knife, heart.. that scene-

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carry your heart in their teeth by boybi_i

Wordcount: 21k Chapters: 1/1

Characters: Inej Ghafa, Wylan Van Eck, Nina Zenik, Jesper Fahey, Matthias Helvar, Kaz Brekker, Jan Van Eck, Alys Van Eck, Kuwei Yul-Bo

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Book 1: Six of Crows, Kidnapping, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Except it takes like 17k to get to the comfort, Murder, Rescue Missions, Major Character Injury, Blood and Injury, Implied/Referenced Torture, None of said torture happens on screen but it is referenced and talked about, Knives, Knife giving as a love language, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Haphephobia, Canon Disabled Character, Inspired by a The Crane Wives Song, Jan Van Eck Bashing, Canon-Typical Violence

Author's summary/notes: “They will consume your sweet resistance And they'll carry your heart in their teeth But I am always feeding them The ugliest parts of me” - Take Me to War, The Crane Wives - On Vellgeluk, Van Eck kidnaps Kaz. Inej discovers the lengths that which she will go to get him back. My summary/notes: I loved reading Inej's thought process throughout the whole fic, the feelings were written so well. This fic was so interesting especially because its ck Inej and not post canon Inej dealing with Kaz. The crows do argue a lot in this fic, and Inej is focusing all her energy trying to figure out how get Kaz back while ignoring her pain. Very whumpy.

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Plan F by bbbeautifulboy

Wordcount: 168k Chapters: 30/? (hasn't been updated in a year)

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Nina Zenik, Matthias Helvar, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 2: Crooked Kingdom, Alternate Ending, Jurda Parem, Matthias Helvar Lives, On the Run, Canon Disabled Character, Deaf Character, Found Family, Jesper Fahey Has ADHD, Sign Language, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Angst with a Happy Ending, this fic is so unhinged, Mental Instability, Chronic Pain, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Addiction, Platonic Relationships, Service Dogs, Plot, Healing, POV Multiple, Pirates, Crows as Found Family, Captain Inej Ghafa, Time Skips, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Suicidal Thoughts, Simp Matthias Helvar, Original Character(s), Including a baby, Minor Character(s), Developing Friendships, Hallucinations

Author's summary/notes: The Auction fails, leaving all of the Crows with a warrant for arrest over their heads and all of Ketterdam and the countries beyond officially their enemy. They've lost everything: their money, obscurity, and their last chance at winning and walking away free. They can only be helped by the Saints and each other now. What will they do to survive? The home that’s lived for years in his nightmares surrounds him, but he cannot see past the five people in front of him. His crew- they’re all looking to him, and as long as they are, he has something to fight for and protect the way he did his reputation and name in Ketterdam. He’s not letting them go. My summary/notes: In this fic you have everything, cottagecore, fluff, angst and a whole bunch of plots. The crows really feel like found family in this and its so sweet. A whole bunch of angst so be warned. Helnik is so cute in this fic. This was one of the first big fics I read and I absolutely adored it.

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l'appel du vide by @alltheworldsinmyhead

Wordcount: 41k Chapters: 8/8

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, Tante Heleen

Tags: Angst with a bittersweet ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Marriage of Convenience, Kaz and Inej make a deal, jokes on them, mentions of past trauma, Canon Backstories, Past Rape/Non Con, Partners to Lovers, slowburn, Inej nevr becomes the Wraith, post-revenge Kaz, Kanej - Freeform, secondary wesper, Canon-Typical Violence

Author's summary/notes: “He was hoping that bringing a famous prostitute on his arm to the saloons and ballrooms of the rich and the powerful of Ketterdam would at least bring him some entertainment if nothing else. But what Kaz did not take into consideration was what marrying a woman like Inej really meant.” CANON DIVERGENCE AU: Kaz comes to the Menagerie for Inej many years too late and bites off more than he can chew. My summary/notes: Honestly this fic is the best thing I've ever read. It presents Inej's character so her but at the same she's so different and its expected as she has been in the menagerie for so many years. This story is a marriage of convenience and follows both Kaz and Inej's path of miscommunication angst and some healing along the way. If you read this fic you will never be the same.

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A Shift in the Air by Just_Another_Bookworm

Wordcount: 176k Chapters: 66/66

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, Nina Zenik, Matthias Helvar

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Pre-Canon, Kaz is Deaf, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, Slow Build, canon adjacent

Author's summary/notes: The chattering masses of people he passed didn’t know it yet, but they would one day fear the half-drowned nine year old shaking from the cold and the effects of the plague. Then again, no one knew much about Kaz Brekker. They didn’t know he wasn’t from the Barrel or that he’d once had a family. They never guessed where the rasp in his young voice came from. They certainly didn’t know why he really wore gloves. Most weren’t even convinced he was human. No one ever suspected that Kaz Brekker was deaf. *** Basically a random story of what if Kaz went deaf from the plague. It starts sort of pre-canon and has expanded. I am bad at summaries so read the first chapter if you want to get a feel for what this story is. My summary/notes: Reading this Deaf Kaz AU was so fascinating, they adapted Kaz being deaf around canon soc so well. The Kanej in this fic captures that beauty of understanding each other through not saying words. It also goes into Kaz and Jesper's brother bond and it so sweet to read.

[ssplague]

Track One of SSplague’s Super Psycho smut and song fic spectacular

Still taking submissions—>InfoHere

Warnings: Stalkerish/Aggressive behavior, mentions of abusive family, radicalized religion, Vampire AU, blood, blood sucking, virginity loss, slight blood play, degradation, chains, SEX, Let me know if I missed any!

“Some people call it a one night stand but we can call it paradise”

🌃. You saw me standing by the wall, 🚏 Corner of a Main Street & the lights 🚥 were flashing on your window sill 🪟 all alone ain’t much fun  🪩 so you’re looking for a thrill 🪞 and you know just what it takes 🫦 and where to go

It was with apprehension you reorganized your vanity after deeming your face fit enough to withstand a night out. You’d become something of a recluse over the last few months, and when anyone asked why they never got a straight answer. You’d rather not tarnish your reputation by admitting the truth behind the matter, deeming it better to keep your lips sealed and replaying the truth late at night while you lay awake in bed. Secret to remain hidden between clenched thighs and twitching hands that were desperate to wander.

You had been naïve, going out on the town all alone, but you hadn’t known any better. Having grown up in some small town in the Bible Belt.

You ran off to your freedom under the cover of night with two strange young women who had been camping in the woods near your home for a week. You happened upon them by chance as you’d slipped into the woods to avoid the preacher’s son. The “godly” young man who’s wandering eyes seemed to always linger on and outline your figure these days. After introducing yourself to the duo, the two had provided a listening ear to your tales of woe. Once you’d finished, they began to share stories from their lives back home, the tales that would be normal to anyone else were riveting to you. You visited their camp every day after that, and when they offered you the chance to return with them you took it. Your heart pounded in your chest as you rode away in the back of that jeep, there truly was more to life than fire, brimstone, abstinence, womanly duties, & utter misery.

Stealing another glance at yourself in the mirror you wondered if this was really a good idea? Luck had been on your side last time, but what if this time luck wasn’t enough? All you could remeber clearly were piercing red eyes, and the way he made you feel that night. Feelings so strong that you still felt echoes of pleasure, and mixed emotions half a year later.

You glance out your dingy window to survey the streets below, the tingle on your skin serving as an inkling that someone’s eyes had been on you.

It was just a trick of the light that had a lone figure smoking a cigarette appear to have that same flash of ash blonde hair that comes and goes within the reel of memories from that night. 

This night was different than that one, you aren’t going out with something to prove, with someone to defy. It was a simple night out with friends, no expectations other than returning home alone and falling asleep happy you had went.

Shuffling inside the club you were pleased to find a somewhat comfortable atmosphere. The heat wasn’t stifling and bodies didn’t occupy every single space of the building. People were still dancing but the bass wasn’t overpowering to the point your rib cage was rattling either. A familiar pinkette catches your eye with an eager wave and you approach the table of familar faces, only to realize that not all of them are ones you recognize. You were lured out under false pretenses it would seem, you fight the curling of your upper lip and offer a slight grin.

“I’m so happy you came out! These two didn’t believe me when I said you were coming!” Mina exclaims happily. You already know she’s referring to Jiro and Uraraka, and not the three men that also occupy the table. Six people that already seemed to be paired together and you just happen to be unlucky number seven, a third wheel.

“Have I really been out of the loop for that long?” Translation: All three of you are in relationships now? Last time I checked I thought you all were “smart, independent, etc.

The first man to be introduced was the largest, his stature and bright red hair weren’t what got you, it was the sharpness of the teeth he flashes you when he smiled. The second was only slightly smaller than the first, he had a boyish charm that was stark in contrast to his black suit and mop of green curls. The third was average in size but what he lacked in brawn was made up for with his seemingly larger than life personality, his electric blonde hair was as shocking as the enthusiastic greeting he gives you.

Kirishima, Midoryia, Kaminari, three friends that happen to be seeing Mina, Ochako, and Jirou. You knew it wasn’t a coincidence that they happened to all be in the same place at the same time. Just as you were about to excuse yourself to grab a drink, one is set down in front of you, the same one you’d had on that solo night out six months ago. You quickly reach out for the women that brought it over as she began briskly walking away, “Excuse me! Who is this from?”.

Her eyes flickered behind you for a split second before she pursed her lips, “I cant tell you that but I assure you it’s safe, I made it myself”. That being said she’s quick to slip out of your light hold and retreat back behind the bar.

“What will it be miss?”

“Ah um…I don’t know what exactly to call it but I want a Shirley temple with alcohol in it…”

“You have ID?”

You present the card with burning cheeks and the women nods, “Cherry Vodka okay with you?”

“Ah yes, uhm that’ll work”

The memory has your cheeks heating up again, and feeling eyes on your back has you turning in the same direction the women had glanced in. When nothing sticks out you rejoin the group you’d been sitting with. Rather than swigging your drink down in a couple gulps (like you had last time) you took note of your company and decided on small sips. Offering demure smiles in between, attempting to keep your facade as you giggled, and engaged in light hearted teasing with your friends.

You’d allowed Mina to pull you to your feet and danced with both her and Ochako for a handful of songs. Happily handing them over to their respective men as the music transitioned to something slower.

On your way back towards the table you passed a nervous looking Jiro being pulled into the crowd of dancers. Sitting back down at the now empty table, you felt the slightest bit envious. Deeming now as good a time as any to grab a smoke on the patio, you wander outside. It was somehow even darker out here than it was inside, getting a cigarette out of your bag, you cursed as you shuffled the few contents around in the small space.

Dammit!

You chose to ignore the feeling of being watched this time, maybe if you hadn’t, you’d of been prepared when you met that alluring crimson gaze. “Need a light?” The voice spooked you as a flame appears in front of your face. Taking a couple small inhales your cigarette is lit and you begin to thank the man. Only when your eyes meet his, the words seem to get loged in your throat.

Despite the shock, you are able to keep any trace of recognition off your face, “Th-Thank you…guess I forgot mine”. You purposely walk a few feet away, foolishly backing yourself into a corner as if he wouldn’t follow you. Silly girl, you just barely escaped him last time, and he’d been on the hunt for you ever since.

It would take a lot more than luck to save you this time.

“Here by yourself?” The raspy sound of the familiar voice leaves goosebumps on your skin. You pray he’s forgotten about you, that your face hasn’t been at the forefront of his mind since you silently slipped from his bed. You fail to realize your immediate slip up as you answer “Not this time, friends are inside”. It’s impossible to even attempt to feign disinterest in the gorgeous man at your side.

“Seems like they’re preoccupied….Since they let you sneak away outside I mean” he tries to make it sound like an off handed speculation, but you catch the implication. “Ah you’re right, they’re probably looking for me, I should go-“ your attempt to flee is easily thwarted as his larger body cages you in between himself and the patio railing.

“Nah, their too busy, I’m sure they’ll be reassured your okay if they remember to ask about you” his sudden grip on your back side has you gasp as you try to push against the chiseled chest between your delicate fingertips, “Excuse me, I really should be going-“.

“Cut the Fuckin’ act, you weren’t this disagreeable last time!” He snaps, catching your chin in between the thumb and forefinger of the hand not gripping your ass.

The shock of being called out has you gaping open mouthed back at him, “I played by the rules last time, you wanted to Dance so I asked you to dance, reassured you I was a good guy and all that other shit, I’ve been looking for you for half a year now, remembering how beautiful you looked beneath me, and the angelic sounds you made from my touch, m’sorry if I’m a bit too pent up to play your Fuckin games tonight princess”.

You bat your eyes as you pout your lips when the pad of his thumb caresses your plump appendages.

“Awww was I too straightforward? You imagined our reunion would be sweeter than this? C’mere dumbass” he isn’t gentle when your lips meet his, despite the shyness you show him once again when his tongue playfully engages with yours. Looking back on this time in the future, you’ll realize you didn’t stand a chance at ever truly escaping from him. The realization of this hits you heavy as you find yourself in the back of a fancy car with a driver taking the two of you back to the place you’d managed to give him the slip last time.

Rather than risk you trying to scamper off into the night, he scoops you up in his arms and carries you inside, up the same stairs you’d nervously followed him up last time. You felt each of the remaining beats left in your heart, relished the almost sensual rythm it pounded out within your chest. This was how you chose to remember the moments before it ceases to ever move another inch.

The first time you’d entered this lavish bedroom had you realizing just how sheltered you’d truly been all your life. 

It was so easy to forget all the warnings and lectures on saving your virtue, as you became lost in those crimson orbs. You hadn’t thought twice about lowering yourself to kneel before him, the way you stared up at him with such reverence as though he were something to be worshipped.

“I’ve never done any of this before”

That statement both saved your life and sealed your fate. Originally, he’d just planned to drain you dry and let you wither away into a husk, to be swept away by the wind at first light. Plans change.

Forever here would your innocence lie; First blood, shared and swapped between hungry lips, and any excess sinking into expensive Italian sheets as your pleasurable cries resound around the bedroom walls. Laying with you in his arms was the most at peace he’s felt in five hundred years. It was only natural for him to get some much needed rest, but waking up to an empty bed, well that didn’t sit right with him. He curses as he jumps out of bed, all terrifying snarls and gnashing teeth as he continuously berated himself inside of his head.

-Should of fucking turned her the second she’d passed out, who knows how long it will take to find her again!

When you’d made it back to your dingy little apartment the first slivers of sunlight illuminated the way as you were barely able to stumble into bed. Next time you woke up the sun was setting on Monday evening, you’d been sure you’d got home around 4 am on Saturday …What the hell had happened? The fog clouding your memory, skin being adorned by so many bruises making you look something akin to a Dalmatian, accompanied by the aching in places that had your face burning with embarrassment…That served in solidifying your decision of becoming a temporary shut in.

Returning to the present in a daze, It’s not the feeling of your clothes seeming to have disappeared as you’re tossed on the bed that has you sensing overwhelming dread.

It’s the heavy weight of something fastened to your ankle, surely put there to prevent another possible escape attempt. If news of your disappearance and inevitable death happened to reach the bum fuck town your parents continue to reside in, your mother would blame your early demise on your fascination with sin, but to the public she’d claim it on a thorn of the flesh. Apparently all the prayers herself and the other delusional townsfolk would have undoubtedly said for you by now weren’t capable of preventing this sticky end.

“Six Fucking months I looked for you…You won’t get away from me ever again…”

In the blink of an eye he was looming over you, and the inferno blazing within that crimson gaze threatened to consume you.

“I…I didn’t think-“ your stammering is cut off by the annoyed huff that escapes him, “Tch, course you didn’t think, didn’t think I’d care if you ran out on me? Didn’t think I’d look for you? Guess you thought fucking wrong then hah?”. It’s adorable the way your bottom lip trembles as you force yourself to continue staring up at him, tears shimmering behind your lashes.

The display only made him feel more desire, his teeth ached to sink into you, to condemn you to an eternity by his side.

You shuddered, eyes closing as his fingers blazed a trail down your chest, thumbing each of your nipples before tip toeing down your stomach. Only to come back up and strike each mound before pinching the stiff peaks.

“Look at me”

A whimper escapes you as you shake your head, he doesn’t like that. 

Let me in

Once again your chin is gripped between his thumb and forefinger, applying pressure that has your jaw creaking, “I said look at me”. Your eyes open and all you can see is red, it’s sucking you in, drowning you in pools of crimson.

Rummaging around inside your head, Katsuki sees you writhing around in your bed, feels the yearning you felt as you longed for his touch instead of your own. Sees the night sky and busy streets through your eyes as you sniffle, chastising yourself for calling your mother, and hating yourself for even slightly hoping that she had anything other than venom to spit. Of course she was disgusted by your confession and still furious at your desertion.

“I’m not a bit surprised that you gave away your virtue so easily. Running off to live in sin! Don’t you dare return here with some bastard child on your hip, I won’t let you pass the threshold unless you’ve decided to repent! Learn your lesson the hard way, you are no child of mine until then!”

The loneliness you felt was something Katsuki was all too familiar with.

“I…I know what…you are” your whispered words interrupted his venture into your head. Now that your eyes were wide open again, the man above you pressed his forehead to your’s. “You’re a…You’re one of them”.  Your teeth began to chatter after you managed to stutter the words out.

“What am I exactly?” His tone mocking, your lashes flutter when his tongue runs across your lips, “Are you afraid y/n? Hah?”. His lips ghost over your’s once more, and then he’s pulling away from you. You are afraid, afraid he might just melt into the shadows around the room and leave you alone. So you make a grab for him, with pleading but still lust filled eyes, “I’m not scared of you, if you wanted me dead you would have done it last time….I feel it too y’know…M’not as stupid as I look”.

A beautiful flash of defiance appears in your eyes as you continue, “You made me feel more love in one night than I’ve felt my entire life…There’s something going on here…How did I know your name before you ever told me it? Just as you knew mine? It’s not possible that we met before that night…is it?

“I ran away because once I woke up I was frightened, I gave myself to a complete stranger, a being that I was taught preyed upon weak willed, easy to deceive fools out alone at night…I fell into the traps I’d been warned about for years and all I can think about is how badly I want you to ensnare and keep me trapped with you forever…” your hands aren’t shaking when they run up his muscular biceps and loop around his neck “Make me your’s again Katsuki, for good this time”.

Of course he’s more than happy to oblige, this was going to happen wether you wanted it to or not, but it was better to have you willing.

If his heart was capable of pounding it would be hammering away in his chest right now. To have you this close again brought an end to his agonizing loneliness.

Spending 400 years without you was awful in itself, but the pain returned ten fold when you’d slipped through his fingers six months ago. Katsuki wanted to hate you for tricking him into believing the all consuming loneliness had come to an end, letting that old wound scab over as he slept soundly with you in his arms. Only to awaken with empty arms and the chill of his empty bed, but I still the wound re-opened the full ache replaced with a sharp sting beginning again. You may not remember your past lives together, but he did. Then again, considering you knew his name before he’d omitted it, maybe the memories were just as locked away inside your head.

As good a control as Katsuki prides himself on having, he felt it slipping after your request. Buying himself some time to cool off, he slips down your body to settle himself between your thighs. Last time he’d split you open on his cock before getting a proper taste of you. The blood that dribbled out of you had been so sweet, so savory that he had slip his tongue inside your mouth so you could see what all the fuss was about. The memory has him rutting against the bed as he takes a bite of your thigh, flicking his tongue over the skin to soothe it. Grinning at the way your arch up off the mattress, you tug at his hair as he slurps up some of your juices, giving your clit a harsh suck and a tiny little nibble, just for the sake of hearing you cry.

“Please don’t make me wait anymore, I need you”

You quit blubbering when he’s hovering over you once more.

Trailing one of his fingers over the small trail of blood that he leftover on your thigh. You open your mouth instantly as he presses down on your tongue, keeping eye contact while sucking his finger clean.

Finally the blunt tip of his dripping cock pokes through your lips and prods at the rim of your hole. Pressing inside of you Katsuki lets out a hiss as you throw your head back, lips forming an O at the sinful sensation. The stretch is painful but welcomed at the same time, your inner walls are sucking him in, squeezing his cock just as fucking tight as last time “Fuckin hell your choking me princess, loosen up”.

His words have you doing the opposite, instead squeezing around him harder for a few seconds, before your legs are securely gripping his waist.

Good, now there is no escape for either one of you.

“Hold on tight baby, cause this next part is going to hurt, and once I get a taste of you on my tongue I really won’t be capable of being nice”

He warns you, stroking your cheek with his thumb, the emotion burning in his eyes is reassuring.

“Then I’ll remember everything? We’ll be together for eternity this time?” You limit yourself to two questions, cunt pulsing around the intrusion as you cock warm him.

“You should, once you grant me full access into your mind, you did it earlier so it should be easy a second time…You won’t ever be able to escape me princess, once I mark you I’ll always be able to find you, there won’t be anywhere you can hide” his lips press against the spot on your neck, and your trembling fingers thread together with his.

The seconds before the bite were a blur, and though you could feel yourself screaming, it was as if no sound had slipped out. It hurt so much, you sobbed as your life force was seemingly drawn out of you.

You think you’d cried for your mother at some point, when the venom started circulating through your veins. Everything was burning, it was all so excruciating! You felt the last beat of your heart, it pounded up until the very end and then it was over. The heaviness that’s weighed on you since your teen years was gone. You felt featherlight, like you could walk on air! Your mind was free from the weight of guilt, sorrow, failure, and loneliness, those feelings could be cast aside just like your mortality had been. you started to come to, Katsuki’s voice inside your head was the most beautiful sound,

“You back with me now? You did so good baby, m’so proud of you…feeling a little better?”.

Your eyes opened, a scarlet ring surrounded and faded into the e/c, they were somehow even more captivating than ever like this.

Blinking up at the handsome face hovering inches above your own you grinned at him. Your tongue found the sharpened points of your canines instantly, poking at each of the new additions curiously. A wave of intense and sudden desire had your fingers tangling themselves in ash blonde locks, with much more strength than normal you pulled their owner in for a kiss. The taste of your blood was still fresh on his lips, it stained his tongue, and you delighted at this. The internal walls of your cunt clenched around the cock still inside of it. The two of you moan in unison as Katsuki gives an experimental rut of his hips, which was quickly reciprocated by you grinding down on him.

I can’t believe this bastard had me cock warming him while I was unconscious and suffering!

The sudden loud laugh that your lover emits against your lips startled you. He continues laughing once your mouths are separated and your eyes narrow, “What’s so funny?” You practically hiss. His reply doesn’t reach your ears verbally, I can hear you idiot! rattles around the inside of your skull. You gasp loudly, eyes widening as he continues speaking directly inside your head; I was planning on fucking you through your transformation but I guess I got a bit overwhelmed once I got to taste you again….Had to make sure I did everything properly to turn you, then once I felt your fear and anxiety coming through I just needed to comfort you…

“So we can share our thoughts and emotions through some sort of mental link?” You asked out loud, muttering a quiet “Guess I’ll need to work on it…” as an afterthought.

“Our souls are bound to each other forever, without one the other can’t exist” he replies, placing a tender kiss on your lips. Which quickly becomes more heated and knowing that this intense desire is not only your feelings but also his has something awakening inside of you. You actually do let out a loud hiss when your hips are pinned to the mattress, putting a stop to their grinding against his.

“Awww Whatsamatter?” You could feel the smugness radiating off him, rather than making you Angry, it only succeeds in making you that much more desperate for him.

“Is she upset because my princess wants to get her guts rearranged? Seems my innocent little lamb has been replaced by a cock hungry whore….Beg for it if you want it” the filthy language has you clench around him once again “Like getting talked to like this baby? Fuck yeah you do, I can feel it”.

He can’t help but gently press both your guy’s hips together again, unknowingly making the head of his cock poke at your Gspot.

The soft keen you let out sounds angelic to him, and he’s barely holding himself together at this point. Katsuki could feel a pulse in his cock as it throbs inside your tight little cunt, he won’t be able to control himself when he does get around to fucking you. There was just one thing he needed first, “Tell your sire how badly you want him to ruin your sweet little angel cunt, and how you only exist to be his cock sleeve…maybe then I’ll give you what you want princess”.

The crude words easily spilled from between his lips, the expectant smirk he wore while looking down on you ignited a fire in your gut.

You opened your mouth attempting to comply, despite the burning sensation of your cheeks. It wasn’t going to be easy to get over the “ways of a proper woman” that had pretty much been beaten into you, wether you’d transformed into a “creature of the night” or not. Your bottom lip is suddenly sucked behind your pointed teeth, ending the prolonged eye contact as you begin to feel insecure.

From age five up until you’d fled from your hometown, every week you were forced to attend a class (which honestly was just a group meeting at a specific house for two hours) with other girls ages ranging from five to eighteen. The old crow that taughtlectured you each week was a bitter woman with posture so straight it was as if a yardstick was wedged up her ass, a tongue that was sharp enough to cut down any younger woman that suffered from low self esteem, often reducing them to sit there sniffling through silent tears. Supposedly Margaret was an heiress and affluent socialite in her younger years, but after her mother had been exposed as the towns resident homewrecker It filled the young woman with such despair she fled to a convent  that happily took her in. That’s how the never married, childless, bitch became “Sister Margaret”.

“No man worth anything would want a foul mouthed, continuously speaking out of turn, heard before she’s seen type of Trollip” says the sister, as she paces around  her living room. Beady narrowed eyes scan the faces of each young girl present,  judgment  always evident in her stare. Locking eyes with you as she continues; “The only time you should ever speak your mind is at the end of the night while kneeling beside your bed while saying your prayers, the all mighty above should be your only confidant, your spouse has more important things to worry about than some silly housewife dribble”.

HEY

The angry voice inside your head and hand clutching your chin succeeds in recapturing your attention. Realizing the angry blonde must have seen the memory you’d recalled had you nervously shift beneath him, attempting to break eye contact again. The anger surging through your neglected sire is thrilling as well as terrifying, the creak of your jaw can be heard as familar pressure is reapplied when his thumb forces your mouth open.

“I guess I didn’t make myself clear enough earlier, so I’ll explain this only once and never again”  Katsuki pauses, leaning down to kiss you. Only he doesn’t…your eyes flutter shut in preparation, all you end up getting is his spit between your plump lips. He’s talking louder before you think to interrupt him.

I’m your god now, and I’m a jealous vengeful one at that…So I won’t take too kindly to any disrespect and that includes you ignoring me when I demand your fucking attention, and especially when I ask you to do something, you fucking do it without hesitation! I’m the center of your universe, your life, body, mind, all belong to me now, is that clear you Fucking whore?

His eyes glow, it’s such a vibrant red in the darkened bedroom, so much intensity directed solely on you is unnerving.

I..I can’t look away…what’s happening?

That’s right, just give in to me

“Please sire, my body and soul belong to you, please use me how ever you see fit my beloved”

Good Fuckin girl 

Drawing his hips back just to slam his cock back deeper inside of you, you cry out at the dull pain of him being buried so deep inside of you.

Any of the self restraint Katsuki previously showed you was gone, you were about to be ravaged by this feral beast of a man and you were excited. You longed for it, this was what you had desperately been seeking all your life, going against everything that had been engrained in you since childhood.

Becoming one with the darkness and finding endless amounts of pleasure in being damned for eternity. It all provided the most sensuous rush, your senses were overloaded.

You hadn’t even realized you’d bit Katsuki until the taste of him invaded your mouth. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as the gentle sucking began. Rather than rip you off of his neck, a large hand on the back of your head keeps you in place encouraging you to suck more out of him.

The gentle movement of his cock slowly rocking in and out of you clouds have literally put you to sleep in this haze you’d found yourself in. When you pull your teeth from his skin you can’t help but swipe your tongue across the punctures left on his neck, placing a gentle kiss over them as well.

You had settled back down on the pillows, the drunken smile on your stained lips disappeared when you realized what you were dealing with. Oh shit… If you thought he was a monster before you hadn’t seen anything just yet. Katsuki was completely feral now, and you were his only outlet to take it out on.

“I-I’m sorry Katsuki! I don’t know what came over me I-“ your cut off by his hand clasped around your throat. “You marked me too…So now I can’t escape from you either, not that I’d ever want to…cunning little minx!” The smile he gives you is wide and menacing as he continues “I knew you definitely couldn’t handle me like this as a whelp of a human, and even with you being turned I was still planning to take it easy on you this time! Then you just had to go and provoke me”.

I didn’t do it on purpose 

“Oh I know that, you’ve always been such a sweet soul, not an ounce of deception in your head, but all actions have consequences, what kind of god would I be if I didn’t demonstrate this…”

You didn’t even have time to praise yourself for using telepathy, once he speaks the last word of his sentence, he throws his hips forward to sink back into your depths.

The breath had been stolen out of your lungs, each over exaggerated thrust into you was sending your body up the bed. Once you’d been pushed all the way back to the headboard, Katsuki once again has a hand around your throat, and his other is holding onto the metal bars that make up the headboard.

“I know you’ll always be my good girl, but inevitably something will happen, and no matter how accidental it may be, your poor little angel cunt will get the punishment for your unintentional transgressions…understand?

Yes Sire I understand 

Bending your legs at the knees you’re instructed to hold them up on either side of your body.

Katsuki lowers his head, fangs skimming their way up and down your flesh. It must be anticipation that’s building up in your gut, you are so wound up in the best kind of way. Your bent legs start to shake and your nails dig into the meat of your thighs as your fists clench, your mouth falls open as your tongue unabashedly slips out.

You try focusing on your panting breaths in attempts to calm yourself down but it’s no good.

Without warning the sharp points of teeth once again sink into your flesh. Your world is still and silent for a moment before erupting into euphoria. The crying that outpours from your mouth is like an angelic symphony to your beloved’s ears.

Saving some of your blood in his mouth, he shares it with you as he sucks your tongue into his mouth.

You’re trembling beneath him, shaky hands trying to take hold of him.

Please….Please….Please 

One more baby, wanna get you there one more time so we can fall apart together 

Katsuki knows your spent, and the overstimulation has began to overwhelm you but he can’t quit now. Not until he gets the experience he’s been craving throughout all these years of loneliness. Making sure his hands are gripping the head board he starts rapid firing the deep thrusts of his hips. You’re crying as you stare up at him, but it’s from happiness. Your internal walls start tightening up again, that sweet little angel cunt loves to keep his cock in a chokehold.

I love you…I love you Katsuki 

Fuck!

A loud screech sounds above your head as the metal bars in his fists are broken apart and what’s left in his hands is reduced to powder. The weight of his spent body laying atop your’s is surprisingly welcomed, like the best kind of weighted blanket.

Your continuous content coo’s are like beautiful music to him.

Both of you are still so high from feeling your souls entangled, becoming one entity despite being two separate beings.

I love you 

I love you 

I love you 

It’s a mantra on repeat in each of your heads until the first slivers of sunlight find a way to slip between black out curtains.

You succumb to sleep before Katsuki, and despite everything that just happened he finds himself cuffing one of your feet to  what’s left of the bed posts, and one of your wrists to his own.

Now try and run out on me

You only let out a content sigh, unconscious but still scooting closer to his body, needing to feel his bare skin on yours. Calloused fingers gently smooth fly away hairs out of your face, before a kiss is placed on your forehead.

Taking you in his arms, he’s finally able to lay down and get some much needed shut eye.

Despite the happiness in this moment, you will eventually wake up and desperately cling to him as you hysterical cry. Your memories from the past will be back once you open your eyes, and Katsuki will be here to comfort you until you come back to the present, blinking your now red ringed e/c eyes. 

Once the tears have dried up and you lay on top of him this time, keeping his cock wedged inside your warns insides to prevent the fresh batch of your shared essence inside, your lover can feel blood lust building. For the first time it’s not actually his own. The confusion in his eyes as he questions you mentally, earns a verbal reply;

“The one that ruined everything back then, was also reincarnated in this lifetime… and I know just where to find him”.

The malicious smile appearing on your lover’s face is mirrored back at him with an identically sinister grin of your own.

“I can’t wait for you to meet my folks”

A/N: So how was that for my first time writing Vampire AU? Like I said before, I got carried away since I enjoyed writing this story so much! Are you interested in finding out what happened between these two during y/n’s previous life? Do you have any guesses on who may be the mystery villain? What sort of punishment awaits them? I may split the second half of this story in two parts. I’d love some feedback on this one, but I still have a variety of stories left to post as continuation of my event, so stay tuned ❤️‍🔥

[druvjelly]

So someone once reblogged my post where i ranted about how Holt almost died due to being falsely accused by going “a dark rewrite of ghouls rule where Holt gets framed for murder” and I actually had the idea of doing that, as a joke. May I remind you. But now. Umm… yeah.

I did a thing

[legofanguy1999]

Monster Lover's March 2025 day 12 troll

A Homestuck fanficiton for @monluvmarch event Monster Lover's March 2025 day 12 troll featuring some new ocs.

When the high school student Amy find herself in a strange world, she quickly hooked up online with a person named X-Uno whose seem to be a online troll. Once Amy arrived at a meeting point, a gray skin short hair humanoid with horns and wearing a black shirt and jeans come up to Amy and said, "Hey, are you Amy?" and Amy reply, "Yes." The creature said to Amy, "I'm Xalreh Unnoro, a troll. You know me as X-Uno. I'm trying to get over the fact that you are a real human." which Amy said, "Yeah, me too."

[kell-be-belle]

The Metamorphosis

Summary:  Following his second trial, Geralt notices something strange happening to his hair that leaves him feeling unsettled. As a new reality sets in, Geralt finds himself grasping to keep hold of the person he was, but fighting against the change is like swimming upstream. The young witcher must let go of the dream of the life he could have had and learn to live with realiy of the one he has now.

Ao3

Eskel is the first to notice the change. They are in the bath house, scrubbing themselves of the sweat and grime collected from that afternoon’s training session, when he traces a circle around the crown of Geralt’s head. Geralt looks up at his brother with an arched brow, clusters of soap bubbles bursting weakly on his temples. They smell faintly of pine.  

“Your hair,” Eskel comments vaguely. It has begun to grow shaggy; curling boyishly around his ears. Geralt couldn’t remember the last time it had been cut. Sometime before his second trial, he supposed, which meant a few months at most. Between his recovery and subsequent reintroduction into training, there hasn’t been much opportunity. Not that Geralt was complaining. Haircuts were often handled by Vesemir and the witcher’s prowess with a sword in no way extended to that of its far more domestic cousin. He left most boys looking like hastily shorn sheep. 

“Look,” Eskel asserts, pointing to one of the mirrors by the stack of washing basins. Geralt douses himself to remove the last of the soap and pads across the room. The soles of his bare feet make a wet slap against the stone. He swipes an open palm against the mirror, exposing a strip of the glass beneath the steam to bear his reflection. Nearly two summers have passed since Geralt survived the Trial of the Grasses and still the preternatural gleam of his eyes in the haze makes something squirm inside him. 

Focusing on the task at hand, Geralt tilts his head this way and that in attempts to discern what Eskel had seen. All appears normal. As normal as things could for a burgeoning witcher. Geralt’s hair is a deep copper, like the rust on a blade left by the battlefield. A coin forgotten in a pocket. Memories of his mother are scarce, but he can distinctly recall the color of her hair. Red, not unlike his own, but a much more violent shade. When she walked, it had shimmered behind her like a trail of fire. The mythical firebird given human form.  

Geralt tips his head forward, pushing his gaze so far up it makes his eyes ache in their sockets, but at last he sees it. There, sprouting from the crown of his head like a star burst, is a patch of grey. No, not grey. Silver? He tilts his head further forward, pushes his gaze so much that he can see the ascending curve of his own lashes.

No, not silver. 

White. Ashen and blanched as the bark on a birch tree. Fallen snow. Milk in the pail.  

With a hand braced against the slick glass of the mirror, Geralt turns to Eskel in search of resolution. Between the effects of the trials and the more general physical changes of a boy of fourteen, Geralt had grown somewhat accustomed to his ever altering appearance. His cheeks had lost much of their youthful fullness along with their color. His nose had been broken enough times to knot with a permanent crookedness. His muscles had begun to swell under the stretch of his skin; a combination of the relentless training and the transition into maturity. Geralt was no longer the child he had once been. That child had been abandoned on the roadside. Literally and figuratively left to the wolves. He understood that much of him had changed and that much still would, but there had to be some limit. A line drawn in the sand that warned to step no further.

Eskel looked at Geralt helplessly, his mouth a hard line across the expanse of his jaw. Of course he had no explanation. He and Geralt were the same, afterall. Unwanted children left with no option other than to persevere. Sailors thrown overboard and beaten mercilessly by the waves. Eskel carefully rearranges his features and comes to join Geralt beside the mirror, pressing a comforting hand between his shoulder blades. “Perhaps talk to Vesemir?” he offers hopefully, though the quaver in his voice is still detectable. He is afraid and doing his best not to show it. The prospect of speaking with Vesemir soothes him marginally, but dread still slithers like a serpent in Geralt’s belly. 

Eskel takes Geralt by the wrist and leads him to one of the pools, promising there is nothing an extended soak in the warm, sulfuric waters couldn’t help. Geralt severely doubts that, but Eskel has always been the more optimistic of them. He hopes- perhaps even prays, but to which gods, he does not know- that, that optimism won’t be misplaced.     

***

Vesemir had had no explanation for the change in Geralt’s hair. He consulted with the Council of Masters who in turn consulted with the mages who also had no explanation. No other witcher had undergone the secondary trials and lived to be observed. A side effect, they theorized. Geralt was observed meticulously in the following weeks and when nothing else concerning emerged, they went back to overlooking him. They moved onto some other novelty, other design, other torture.  

Geralt’s hair is now shoulder length. A curtain he has taken to hiding behind. The white has grown out to cover the majority of his scalp and upon a quick glance, it looks as though he’s wearing some sort of cap. He has thought about cutting it, but every time he thinks of Vesemir’s scissors razing through the rust colored ends he feels his throat tighten. For the time being, he can still pretend that things are as they have always been. The color that flashes at the corner of his eye is still familiar. 

There is, however, a problem with pretending.  

Geralt cannot stand to look at himself in the mirror. Cannot stand the reminder of reality. He goes to great lengths to avoid facing his own reflection in polished blades and sets of armor; puddles after the rain and the empty plate at the end of meals. The bath house has become his only place of reprieve. The steam on the glass keeps his reflection obscured. Here, he is only the impression of a person. A ghost. Just another of the hundreds of spectres that haunt the halls of Kaer Morhen. 

While he can avoid his own reflection, Geralt cannot escape the scrutiny of his peers. The other boys whisper about him as he sits perched upon a stool, scraping the blood and dirt from under his fingernails. They whisper about him constantly. On the training grounds, in the dormitories and dining hall. It is an incessant humming like cicadas in the lush summer trees. They must know he can hear them; the trials have heightened their hearing, afterall. Perhaps that is why they do it. Perhaps they want him to hear just so they can watch the way he curls in upon himself; watch the shuttering of his yellow eyes. Fresh blood mixes with the dried on Geralt’s fingertips where an old wound is reopened by his fierce and careless scrubbing. 

Geralt feels numb to it.    

Eskel pads up beside him, jovial as ever. He slaps Geralt heartily between the shoulder blades, tawdrily commending him for his performance on the Killer. Geralt smiles sheepishly, gives his brother an affectionate shove. Their love is warm and rough. A caress from calloused palms. He knows that Eskel is distracting him, though he can’t say his praises aren’t entirely misplaced. Geralt has found himself faster these days; stronger and more reactive, too. He is rising through the ranks like smoke to the sky. He will be top of their class soon. Pride swells small and buoyant in Geralt’s chest like a tentative flower blossoming under the ministrations of the sun. 

A flower swiftly trodden under the careless traveler’s boot.  

“A freak, even for a witcher.” In the cavernous expanse of the bathhouse, the words of the other boys bounce off stone and mist. Omnipresent. “More monstrous than the rest of us.” Their yellow eyes gleam in the haze and he is surrounded by them. A pack of wolves on the hunt. Geralt is closing in on himself again, protecting his most tender parts. “Perhaps one day he himself will need to be slain.”  

Geralt hastily douses himself to clean off the worst of the grime. He cannot stand to stay in the bath house a moment longer; not with all the wolves waiting to devour him. He rushes back to the changing room; to the nook where he had stored away his tunic and trousers. His skin is still damp as he tugs on his clothes and the rough cotton drags against him like hungry fingers. It makes his stomach turn. 

“Wait, Geralt!” Eskel is there, a towel wrapped loosely around the circle of his hips. A sliver of the pine-smelling soap is still clutched in the cage of his fingers. “Ignore them! Their insults only mask their jealousy.” Eskel is probably right, but still Geralt burns with shame as if soaked in pitch and set alight. It consumes him like a forest fire. 

A dampened hand clamps down on his shoulder as Geralt moves to turn away, and in the maddening din of his thoughts, he lashes out. He whirls and shoves his brother away with uncontrolled force. The antithesis to the raw tenderness they had shared mere moments ago; that suddenly seems like a lifetime ago. It is brutal and savage. The desperate strike of an animal trapped. Eskel is sent crashing back against the line of alcoves; the air knocked from his lungs in a hissing rush.

Horror strikes cold and fierce in Geralt’s chest as he realizes what he has done and for a moment he is frozen. His hands clutch uselessly in the folds of his tunic. He wants to apologize, but the words gather thick in his throat like molasses. The shame reignites within him with the ferocity of a dying star and he is burning, burning, burning. It will incinerate him. Not even his bones will remain; only ashes from which nothing will be reborn. Geralt turns and rushes up the stairs from the bath house, his boots slipping on the damp stone and sending him to his hands and knees. He crawls from the depths like the pitiful creature he is and does not look back. 

*****

When his senses returned, Geralt regretted his actions towards Eskel. The guilt gnawed in his belly as deep and raw as hunger. He apologized in the best way someone like him could, which wasn’t much. It was nowhere near the apology that Eskel deserved. Eskel, however, seemed to think it sufficient enough and smoothed over the event with an easy smile and good-natured insult. Things shifted back into place, but still they felt changed. It was like a pot broken and fastened together once more. The water still held, but the cracks remained. Geralt feared one day the cracks would open anew and send everything they ever shared spilling out.

He tries not to think about it.     

Geralt’s hair now stretches down the center of his back; the sheaf of it swings loosely between his shoulder blades. It hangs about him like a veil. A perverse vision of a blushing bride. The white has surmounted his head; his natural rust clinging to the ends like a brush dipped in paint. When the boys whisper of him now, it is not longer with thinly veiled jealousy, but overt pity. Geralt is sight to behold.  

He escapes the main keep whenever he has the chance. 

Vesemir is beside Geralt now, puffing away at the stem of his pipe. He and Geralt are perched along the eastern curtain wall of the outer keep. It has long served as a refuge where the two often came to unwind in companionable silence. Kindred spirits. Dusk is forging ahead and with the setting sun the valley below is ablaze in shades of scarlet and ochre. The silhouettes of the Blue Mountains loom against the darkening sky like sentries great and ancient. 

“You’re going to have to cut it,” Vesemir rumbles into the silence, exhaling the smoke from the pipe. It smells of foriegn spices and is lost almost instantly to the wind. 

Geralt moistens his lips in a bid to gain time to think of his response. “It does not hinder me. I have begun tying it back.” A weak excuse and certainly not what Vesemir meant, but he can think of nothing else. 

Vesemir snorts, “Don’t play dumb, Geralt. It doesn’t suit you.” Geralt fists clench where they rest against his thighs. The elder witcher was a shrewd one, indeed. “You will not advance until this business is finished.” Vesemir is rustling through the pack beside him, but Geralt keeps his eyes trained on the sinking sun. Though weakened, the rays of light still piece through his sensitive eyes like needles. Adjusting the size of his pupils would be a simple solution, but Geralt feels no inclination to do so.

The rustling ceases and Vesemir holds the retrieved item out to Geralt. He takes his eyes off the sun and looks. In Vesemir’s palm lay a dagger. It is simply embellished by leather wrappings with a blade whose edge shines molten in the dying sun. Geralt’s heart leaps into his throat and feels himself choke around its girth. He looks at Vesemir desperately, but there is an unyielding in the witcher’s yellow eyes. 

This is not something he can help with. This is something Geralt must do on his own. 

With trembling fingers, Geralt takes the dagger from Vesemir’s hand. His palm is moist with sweat and the leather feels tacky in his grasp. He turns it over in his hand, momentarily catching his reflection in the high polish of the blade. It is not much more than a sliver, but even that is too much to bear.  

Weak. Pathetic. Monstrous.  

That is what all of this boils down to. That is the thing that tightens his throat and clenches his heart. Geralt’s hair is more than just that. It is the last connection to his humanity. The last connection to the person he once was; the person he could have been had he only the chance to become him. It is the last piece of his mother and though he loathes her, he still yearns for her in the way all young boys are wont to. Cutting his hair feels like surrendering. Giving up. Resigning himself to the fact that this is now and forevermore the life he will lead. 

A witcher. A mutant. No home or family; just an infinite stretch of lonely road with nothing at the end.    

Geralt had been taken so young he hadn’t even had the chance to dream of the things he wanted for himself. Nothing beyond the grandeur of adventure and heroics he supposed all little boys dreamt of. If given the chance, what would he have wanted? A modest life in a modest village? A home with a crackling hearth and a companion to keep it warm? Honest work and the mouths of young ones to feed with the coin earned? 

What did it matter? Those were things no longer for him. They never would be.   

Vesemir’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder. It is not a gentle touch nor an affectionate one, but it has a weight and warmth that is grounding. It calms the tempest of Geralt’s thoughts; weakens them to a dull roar. “There is no going back, Geralt. The only way is forward.” It is not the thing that Geralt wants to hear, but he knows it is the thing he must.  

Geralt grasps the dagger firmly in one hand and with the other gathers a section of his bicolored hair. He pulls the strands taught and his scalp pinches with the force of it, but that is his intention. 

He wants for it to hurt.

Drawing in a deep breath, Geralt leaves himself no more time to dither. The blade glints momentarily in the light as he pulls it through with rough, halting cuts. Despite the sharpness of the blade, cutting through his hair proves more difficult than expected. The world could have ended and been rebuilt anew in the time it takes him to finish. As he renders the last strands, Geralt is panting heavily; lungs constricted by a combination of effort and emotion. Most of his hair has been scattered by the wind, but a clump remains clutched in his fist. The blood of a wound staunched, but not yet clean. It takes some effort for Geralt to uncurl his fingers and allow the final remnants to blow free, but eventually they, too, are carried away on the wind to places unknown. Vesemir hums satisfactorily beside him and returns to smoking his pipe unperturbed. Geralt appreciates it. 

There is a sense of relief in this final surrender and it mingles bittersweet with the already existing ache in Geralt’s heart. There is nothing left of the person he was before and with that change has taken root. At last, there is finality. There is no going back. As Vesemir had said, the only way is forward. 

The metamorphosis is complete.

A/N:  Look, I just have so many feelings about young Geralt. I want to dive deep into that inner psyche and explore the things that shaped him into the grumbling witcher we know and love today. Hair can be such a personal thing and having it changed against your will seems so profoundly traumatizing (which is in no way related to my own rapidly greying hair despite being in my mid twenties).