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weird-addiction · 1 year ago

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“You’re all Demons. I rule you all.”

Summary: The Archons are not the most powerful, nor is Celestia.

Pairing: Genshin Archons x Male!Reader

Warnings: Slight SAGAU creator themes, manipulative reader, unhealthy power dynamics, controlling reader, Furnia slander

The creator is not one to be looked down upon. Yet, over the thousands of years, everyone and even the archons have forgotten them. No shrines, offerings or worshippers have been founded.

Well, they should know that the creator does not take lightly to what they have done. They have eyes everywhere, and knows everything that is going on.

“Pathetic pathetic pathetic! Such a bore!”, they said. His voice ran through the ears of the archons and the heavens themselves. “I give them stories, backgrounds, and such titles to use for a better Teyvat. And yet, they are so boring to not even use them! Ugh! Execution would have been better!”

His insults came one after the other, and the gods heard them all. “This throne is not for them. It is mine and mine alone.” Every word was heard the archons, well, almost every word. The creator chose what they can and can’t hear.

“Perhaps I should pay them a visit.”

And that is how they came to Mondstadt. Home of freedom and wine, ‘ruled’ by the Barbatos. But when he stepped into the city, he could tell the god has been slacking off. No rules, no disciplines, and no official government. Just a military force that can be called a military force.

He went to the acting Grandmaster Jean, who was stunned to see such a being. “Tell me, where is Barbatos. I wish to speak with him.”

“Y-you mean Venti? He’s probably at the Angel’s Share.”

To the tavern he went and indeed the bard sat, almost drunk out of his mind as he round after round.

“Venti is it?” The stern voice came. The bard was quickly shocked to his core to the same voice. “Mind if we have a word?”

Outside behind the tavern, Venti was on his knees. Practically begging for forgiveness. “Please! I’m sorry! I promise to-”

“To what? I barely see any shrines of me. Why should they worship you when you have abandoned your responsibilities? Should I send you back to the hells with you?” His voice stood with no room for negotiations or retaliations.

“No! Please! I’ll do better!” The bard begged. Tears were threatening to spill.

“Don’t forget from where you came from. You can change forms, you can’t change your eyes.” With a snap of his fingers, Venti’s eyes begin to burn. Black surrounded his pupils as he shut them in agony.

“That’s better. Your true colors are better.”

Venti bowed his head as he could do nothing but except the truths. The truth of his own freedom has been revealed for all to see.

“I have others to see to. Perhaps I should take a round trip to see all of them. See you my dear Zephyr.”

His next stop was Liyue, what a great city built on the coast. He had heard that their god was dead.

“What a load of bullshit. Trying to escape responsibilities to? Too fucking bad.”

Up on a mountain is where he found the retired geo archon. Or rather, Morax.

“Nice view no? Now I know why you liked building mountains so much.” Zhongli turned around to see the unfamiliar, his face said it all.

“Who are you? How do you know my identity?”

“Aw. Little pup. Looks like your leash needs a tightening.” He made a gesture which was pulling an invisible chain, which made Zhongli fall towards him.

“You…it’s you. Why are you here?” The archon’s eyes widen to the realization.

“I’m disappointed in you. No shrines, no worship, nothing in my name. Do I need to send you back to the hells? I would be glad to do so. The others are always asking ‘Where’s Morax?’ ‘Oh I wish I can play with Morax again. Where is he?’ Do you remember?”

A wide smile took his face as he saw the other’s face drop. He did indeed remember.

Zhongli fell to his knees remembering the years of torment. In his youth, he didn’t listen. “Please. Don’t. I beg of you.”

He tched. “Oh Morax. Don’t beg. It’s not a good look on you. I suppose you are retired after all, but you do have quite the influence no? Why not put that to use? Remember the contract you signed with me?”

Of course he remembers. It was the first contract he ever made. But he was one who signed it. To this day, the contract was kept under lock and key. “Yes…” Was all he said.

“Good. You can hide your identity, but you can’t hide your chains.” A snap of his fingers, shackles appeared on the archon’s wrists and ankles. Heavy like lead they were. Binding him down to earth, to his contract.

“Reminds me of old days! What joy! Say hi to the adepti for me! I’m sure they missed me oh so much!”

He then disappeared and left Zhongli there with chains for all to see. Bound to unspoken of words.

Inazuma was a nation he kept hearing bad things about. What had the archon done to be hated so much? At least the borders were open now, seems that forever can’t be forever.

“Oh Ei. The eternity you wanted was the gluttony of control you wished you had right?”

Locked away in her palace, in the heart of the city, Ei sat with her eyes closed.

“Beezlebub. How nice it is to see you again? Did you miss me?”

Ei was startled and her hand went to her polearm, ready to attack where the voice came from. “How did you come in here? Who let you in?”

“After all these years, you are still the same. Eternity truly doesn’t change you does it? Your gluttony will never be satisfied will it? What would your sister say?” The words came flowing out one after the other, he did not even have to think as he spoke. He knew exactly what to say.

“You-!” Ei pounced forward, the tip of her weapon stopping at his throat. One wrong move and he would be harmed, but he knew she wouldn’t, her arm was shaking after all.

“You close your borders, take the people’s visions. Were you so afraid of change that you wanted an illusion control that you never had. Pathetic.” Ei begin to tremble as she heard such words, but there was nothing she can do. He was her superior after all, this would be a death sentence if she tried to fight him.

“No worshippers of me, no shrines, not even a fucking thank you to me for giving you these islands.” A laugh left his lips as he thought of it.

“You can hide away in your plain, but you can’t hide from the true reality outside your door.” A snap of his fingers, Makoto’s body dropped in front of her. Her eternity in the open for all to see.

A smirk overtook his features. “Remember, she’s in my hands. You are more than welcome to join her, but…I don’t think I will. Your eternity will be spent in the same gluttony of control, until you are swallowed whole.”

The archon fell to her knees, just like all the others. “Please. Wait..I’m sorry..”

“Aw. Don’t beg. You all look so pathetic while doing it. I made you all better than this. But here you all are, no backbone to be seen. Which, I can see why.” Makoto’s body disappeared as Ei was starting to shed tears.

Moving to crouch down to her level, his lips next to her ear. “Once you die, you will be in the same eternity you wanted. You will know what it is like to be forever unchanging.”

Getting back to the mainland across an entire ocean was not fun. Even when he was stepping through the air, it still took a long time. Next nation was Sumeru. Nahida was the one archon he liked, she always knew what was going on.

Not to mention, she was a victim herself. But the real reason was that she had kept the shrines the former archon had built in his name, and the people still worshipped him to this day.

“I have expected you.” Came the small voice, her back was turned as she showed no hostility or fear to the one that walked towards her.

“Buer.” However, his respect her Nahida only went so far. Her chains were just a bit less…drastic.

“Seems like your people have finally changed their minds. Still chained to the evermore knowledge I see.” He stated, a laugh was held back.

"It is something I have much time for. I do not mind if the chains are the ones that I like." Nahida responsed.

"Then I wish you good luck. You are only 500 years old after all, you have all the time in Teyvat for this." Waving over his shoulder as he left the sanctum which the younger archon stayed in.

The next nation is one he has known to hate, or rather, hate the heavenly principles for. For as long as he had seen, the dragons and vishaps were the natives that they had decided to usurp for power. And Fountaine was one of these, 500 years of a fake god and authority taking the throne. While the true ruler was cast aside.

He sat one foot into the Nation and he already hears the annoying voice of the 'archon', really wish she could really shut up already. "Oh! So you are here after all! Welcome! I, welcome you to my beautiful nation!"

He did not say anything, but rather he stared up at her and gave her a glare; even from that distance she could see it and knew he was not here for a friendly visit. "I will see you in your office Furina."

When he got there, he was greeted with someone else. The Hydro Dragon, the rightful ruler of these lands. "Neuvillette."

"Your Grace." He bowed, still addressing him the same way just all the those years ago. And most likely, the only one left that still does so. Furina then came into the office, a look of fear in her eyes.

"Furina, how...unpleasant to see you." Hearing the words, she looked more dejected than she already did.

"Please. If you're going to say it then just say it."

"Fine." He sat down on one of the fancy armchairs that sat around the room.

"Just because you are forced to play a role for 500 years does not mean you get sympathy from me, should have thought of that before your archon usurped him." Making a hand gesture towards Neuvillette.

"You're sad that you had to play a role you did not want against your will? You know what we call that? The real world. Wake the fuck up if you think the world owes you anything just because of that. Have you even taken a look around you at the people for this many years? Their lives are filled with doing things they don't want, and it's a different thing every time. You do one same thing and you think can get sympathy? Maybe from Neuvillette sure, but not me. And when you finally die and fade out from this world and nobody remembers you, you will appear in my halls begging for my attention. I will not spare a single thing for you." A stone cold expression sat on his features.

The room was tense, Furina was on the verge of tears. Neuvillette held a worried face as he wanted to comfort her, but from one hand gesture from his creator, he stayed his feet and did not move.

"An arch duke of hell? Please. You can barely get out of heaven. You want to fall into infernal blaze so bad that you need to fool a crime to get casted out? Pathetic." He spat.

He stood up and walked out the door, Neuvillette followed after him.

"What is it?" His tone was eager as he had somewhere else to be.

"Your Grace, please rethink of it. Lady Furina is in pain, after 500 years, she is bound to have some sort problems with it all." He pleaded.

"Aw~, bound to the chains of justice like she is. I did not create you this way."

"..." Neuvillette was at a lost for words.

"Fine. She can keep her role and not appear in my halls after her timely death, that's for her immortal side of things. But once she is one more mortal, she will still die, and I will know to give her a quick death." A smile took over, like he was saying this was the better action.

"W-what? How is that-"

"Unless you want her to die right now? I can make that happen."

"No, Your Grace."

"Good. She would make such a pretty corpse."

Silence took the space between the two of them, a sea of mist and fog was slowly putting distance between them.

"Everyone on this side of the world are demons. I rule you all."

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shizuturnspages · 17 days ago

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An idea, what if instead of fraternal twin, how would they be if they were identical twins?? Genshin impact yandere. The original reader may have escaped or committed suicide, later meeting the identical twin. Your writing is great

A Ghost in Your Skin

Synopsis: It doesn’t matter if you’re the same person or not. They won’t let you go. Because in their eyes, you were always meant to be theirs. Pairings: [Separate] Yandere Diluc, Childe, Ayato, and Zhongli with an Identical Twin of Their Lost Darling

Diluc – The Haunted Devotion

"… No. You’re— You’re not them. You can’t be."

When Diluc first sees you, he can’t breathe. For a moment, he believes it’s a dream.

You’re standing there—whole, alive, breathing. His heart stops.

But something is wrong. Your gaze doesn’t hold the same sorrow. You don’t look at him with fear or love—you just look confused.

Denial. He refuses to believe that you’re someone else. This is a mistake.

But he can’t let you go. Even if you’re not his you, he can’t lose you again.

His grip is firm. “Don’t leave,” he whispers, voice trembling. “I— I won’t let you go again.”

The hardest part?

You look just like them. But you don’t remember him.

And that makes him desperate.

Childe – The Twisted Second Chance

"Heh. Guess the world’s not so cruel after all—giving me a second shot at keeping you this time."

Childe grins when he sees you. His heart pounds. For a moment, he thinks you came back to him.

But then you speak, and you don’t recognize him.

Ah. So that’s how it is.

He doesn’t panic. If anything, he’s thrilled. Because this means he gets to do things right this time.

He’s sickly sweet. His tone is playful, but his grip is iron.

“You don’t know me yet? That’s fine. We’ll fix that.”

He won’t let you disappear like before. He’ll chain you to his side, make you fall in love with him properly.

You don’t need to be that you.

You just need to be his.

Ayato – The Gentle but Unyielding Mastermind

"You may not be them… but it seems fate has given me another chance."

Ayato is calm, calculating. His mask never cracks, even when his world tilts on its axis.

He doesn’t say much when he first sees you. But his eyes are sharp, unblinking.

Inside, he’s reeling. How could this be? You were gone.

He won’t let history repeat itself.

No more mistakes. No more freedom. If you’re here, he’s keeping you.

His words are gentle but non-negotiable. “I won’t lose you again.”

Servants are already securing your new home. You just don’t know it yet.

It doesn’t matter who you were before.

You are his now.

Zhongli – The Tragic Resurrection

"Even after all these years… you return to me."

Zhongli feels like the past has come back to haunt him.

He had grieved you. Laid you to rest in his heart, vowed to never let go of your memory.

But then you stand before him, and his immortal heart stirs.

He tries to be rational. He tells himself you are not them.

But you are. Every glance, every movement—it’s like watching a ghost walk in your skin.

He won’t demand you return to him. But he will never let you leave his side.

He’ll rewrite fate itself if he must. You were stolen from him once. Never again.

If the heavens do not return his love to him—

Then he will take you for himself.

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kaynanarie · 2 months ago

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Eyes of Gold (Part 11)

(A WukongxReader story inspired by Beauty and the Beast and Lutung Kasarung.) (First) (Prev) (Next)

An awed silence fell over the crowd as they took in the immortal might of Sun Wukong himself. While you felt nothing but sheer relief at the sight, the demons’ reactions were much different. Some turned tail and ran while others lingered, shocked and whispering in nervous tones. But no one dared approach the Great Sage Equal to Heaven.

The bull, while surprised, was not as intimidated as his underlings. He stood slowly, hands still bound by the glowing hair. “Monkey King, I didn’t expect to see you here,” he growled in a thinly veiled question.

“Bull Demon King,” Sun Wukong greeted with a tilt of his head. “I heard there was some commotion happening outside my mountain and came to see for myself.”

His tone was casual, even a little curious. You couldn’t see his face, only his back where he stood between you and the bull demon, but you had been around enough monkeys to quickly read his mood. The fur bristling on his neck and the lashing of his tail were evident to his barely contained rage.

“I’m here on behalf of the wolf pack,” Bull Demon King answered, gesturing to the two on the sidelines. “They claimed a human was responsible for their captain’s death and begged me to seek justice on their behalf.”

When the Monkey King glanced their way, the wolves yelped and cowered behind their comrades. “These two? I don’t suppose they also mentioned how they trespassed on my mountain, terrorized my kin, attacked my royal guest, resisted capture, and fled when their captain tried to fight and lost?” He let out a humorless chuckle. “So much for wolf-clan loyalty.”

Bull Demon King snapped his attention to the wolves, shock and outrage clear even with his bovine features. “Is this true?”

Trembling, both wolves fell to their knees with bowed heads. “It’s true, Venerable Great King. We were only passing through when we saw the human. We had no idea they were of any importance!”

“That’s a lie!” you spoke up, too insulted to stay silent. “I told you I was a guest of the Monkey King and you mocked me!”

The hunched wolf growled, “Why you…!” but flinched when both demon kings pinned him with a warning glare.

“Then the wolves are at fault,” Sun Wukong concluded as he turned back to the bull, “And have no one to blame but themselves for their transgression.”

Bull Demon King nodded, still staring down the guilty wolves. “The human is innocent so the claim on their life is forfeit. I will have no further dealings with them or the wolf clan.”

“Wonderful to hear.” The tense stance relaxed and Sun Wukong casually slung his weapon across his shoulders. “You may all leave the village without further incident, then.”

“Unfortunately, Monkey King…” The bull snorted in defiance as he looked down on the shorter demon. “We will be going nowhere. I have already negotiated the surrender of this village and will have my promised dues. Whether you choose to stay or leave is not my concern.”

The irritated tail whips returned while the rest of the monkey stood still as stone, head cocked in ominous thought. “That is unfortunate,” he murmured after a moment. “You see, this village is already under my protection. So, unless you plan to challenge me for it,” Sun Wukong spun his staff, pointing the golden tip in warning. “I suggest you take your little horde here and leave.”

Bull Demon King snarled in outrage. “You dare to order me?” Steam billowed from the bull’s flared nostrils while his hooves stamped the ground. “Perhaps I’ll claim this village and take your precious mountain next!”

A flash of red-gold eyes met yours over Monkey King’s shoulder. “Run, get to safety,” he ordered. The bellows of the enraged bull demon reclaimed his attention. Turning away, he braced himself for combat. “Go, now!”

You did as you were told, scrambling to your feet and hurrying out of the way. What remained of the demon crowd also scattered, abandoning their leader and village conquest in a panicky retreat. Soon, only the Bull Demon King and the Monkey King were left standing on the once crowded street. Sheltering behind a still-standing house, you peeked around the corner to watch the fight from a safe distance.

Growling and stomping the ground, the bull demon lowered his head and charged with a shout. But Monkey King didn’t move, not even a flinch, as the sharp horns sped towards him. He only waited until his opponent drew closer to thrust his staff out. The golden end drove against Bull Demon King’s brow and lurched him to a sudden stop.

You had heard the stories of Sun Wukong’s great strength and battle prowess; the impossible weight of his weapon, countless battles against gods and demons alike, and his stubbornness in the face of insurmountable odds. Seeing it with your own eyes was something else entirely. He easily wielded thousands of pounds of iron and halted the stampeding bull with only one hand. It was incredible, terrifying even; and you were never more grateful to be under his protection.

The bull heaved and dug in his hooves, shoving his weight forward with huffs and growls. But the Monkey King was unmoved, solid as a statue as he held the other demon in place. With a single thrust, he flung Bull Demon King back down the street with an earthshaking crash.

“Enough, Brother,” Sun Wukong said, planting the end of his staff on the ground. “Leave this village in peace and end this fight now.”

Bull Demon King stumbled to his feet, hands still bound and eyes blazing. “You are no brother of mine!” he roared.

A silence followed the echoes as both demon kings stared each other down. In a tone weighed heavy with regret, the Monkey King sighed, “So be it.” He raised one hand, muttering something under his breath before speaking up. “I’ve bested you before and I’ll do it again if I must.”

Before the bull could prepare another charge, the golden hair began to glow again. A thread broke away from his wrist and coiled around his legs, tangling his ankles together and sending him tumbling to the ground. Another strand wrapped around his horns, yanking his chin down to his chest and completely binding him. No matter how much he squirmed and thrashed, the ties refused to release him.

Sun Wukong approached the downed bull demon, staff hung over his shoulders and tail swishing with each strut. He crouched just shy of the sharp horns, tilting his head curiously. “What say you now, Bull Demon King?”

With a final snort, the bull demon slumped in defeat. “We’ll leave. Let me lead my soldiers out of here and there will be no more quarrel.”

Nodding, the monkey stood and waved his hand. The threads binding Bull Demon King fell away, leaving him free to stand. In a final golden glow, the single strand of fur floated through the air and into Sun Wukong’s waiting palm. “I’ll escort your demons from the village. Nothing is to be taken and no humans are to be harmed. Understood?”

“Fine.” The bull demon glanced to his men still lingering about. “Gather our troops! Leave everything and harm none; any who disobey will answer to me!”

They nodded, dropping their weapons in surrender. More demons appeared from the ruined buildings; some scowling, some nervous, but none eager to argue under the glares of the two demon kings. Soon, dozens of demons were crowded on the street, awaiting further orders.

Despite the fresh sting of defeat, the bull held his head high as he stood before his men. “We march west! No stopping until we return home!”

“Yes, Venerable Great King!” the crowd shouted. They turned as one and filed out of the village with Bull Demon King bringing up the rear.

As they faded into the distance, you could finally breathe a sigh of relief. You shuffled out of your hiding place, taking in the desolation left behind. Buildings were damaged, houses ransacked, and belongings scattered along the road; all things that could be fixed with time.

And amidst it all was the Monkey King; the unexpected savior of your village. Standing proud with his gilded armor and formidable weapon, it was hard to believe the terrifying demon from the elders’ tales was the same hero before you.

“Sun Wukong!”

He perked up at your call but didn’t turn around, still keeping a watchful eye on the retreating demon pack. So many words and gestures spun through your mind. Everything from tearful groveling to a friendly hug were considered, though you were still not bold enough to get too close.

“Thank you for saving us,” you finally said with a deep bow. Though overflowing with gratitude, your simple words didn’t feel like nearly enough. “I don’t know how we could ever repay you.”

“There’s no need.” The tone was dismissive but the happy curl of his tail and the tiny smile barely visible over his shoulder was too telling to ignore. “You should check on your kin. I’ll make sure the demons leave for good.”

Jumping into the air, a cloud materialized under his feet and kept him aloft. With a final parting wave, the Great Sage flew away, following after the Bull Demon King’s troops. You watched him fade into the horizon, a newfound fondness in your heart warming you against the winter cold.

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~🍑 Peach Friends 🍑~

@joyfulllittlething @iluxurycruisedthatship @drspecialhell @moondrop39-dovewing70 @happycarp @chibifox88

(If you would like to join the tag list, let me know!)

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I went light on the action for this chapter since I have another fight planned later in the story. Had so much fun getting to write Wukong showing off with his fancy stick, it's what he deserves. Thank you all so much for reading and for all the wonderful comments and theories! They really make my day!

You can also find this story on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60643669

#Monkey King x Reader #Monkey King #Sun Wukong x Reader #Sun Wukong #Eyes of Gold #Shihou #Shihou the Monkey #Shihou x Reader #Beauty and the Beast #Lutung Kasarung #Fairytale and Folktale Inspired #Journey to the West #JTTW #Black Myth Wukong #BMW #KayNanArie #Peach Friend

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minoulapin · 20 days ago

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Chapter Two: Of Tactics and Tension - Between Giving & Taking - Y. JW

Pairing: Demon!Jungwon x Angel!Reader

Genre: Forbidden Love, Fantasy, Romance, Mystery

Wc: 5k

Synopsis: A love unspoken, a fate unwritten, An angel and demon, forever forbidden. Bound by the laws of heaven and hell, A story of longing they dare not tell. At the Academy of the Occult, angels and demons coexist under a fragile truce. But when a celestial heir is assassinated, war looms, secrets unravel, and forbidden desires ignite. In a world where their love is a crime, will they defy fate or be consumed by it?

A/N: Coucou! I hadn’t planned for anyone to read this, but the fact that a few of you actually took the time to do so is honestly astonishing to me. I still don’t know exactly how many chapters this story will have, but I expect it to be around 20, so we’ve still got a long way to go. But for now, here’s Chapter 2! Hope you enjoy! -Joe

Tag list: open!! @whateveridontcaresheesh @iifrui @stormy1408 @indigoez @riribelle (Comment to be added)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | MASTERLIST I NEXT CHAPTER

They called it The First War. The war that shaped everything.

Long ago, before the war, there was balance. Angels and demons were not enemies. They were two halves of a whole light and shadow, order and chaos. Opposites, yet necessary.

But harmony was an illusion.

The angels, divinely made and righteous in their purpose, believed they were meant to lead. They were the protectors, the guides, the rightful rulers of the world. The demons, untamed and lawless, were expected to follow.

But demons were not made to follow.

What began as defiance turned into rebellion.

They rejected celestial rule, tore down the structures that bound them, shattered the dominion the angels had built and in the process, they razed entire celestial cities.

The angels, unwilling to stand aside, responded in kind.

What began as a conflict of control became a war of survival.

For a century, angels and demons clashed, their battles setting fire to the skies, their hatred carving rifts into the earth itself. Cities burned. Skies darkened. The world trembled under the weight of war.

The Celestial Heir, chosen by divinity itself, led the angels into battle. It was his leadership that turned the tide. His strategies forced the demons to retreat, his armies cut through their rebellion, and with a final, decisive victory.

The demons were cast into the abyss. Their forces broken, their rule dismantled, their rebellion crushed.

The Rift between realms was sealed.

The war had ended. The angels had prevailed. Balance was restored.

But the cost had been great.

To prevent another war, the Academy of the Occult was founded a place where the two sides could learn, negotiate, and coexist. A fragile peace was built from the ruins, upheld by rules that neither side could break.

For centuries, the system held.

Until now.

Peace was never real.

It was only tolerated.

And now, it was crumbling.

The Grand Hall was suffocating in its silence. The air felt too still, as if the Academy itself was holding its breath. Light filtered in through the towering stained-glass windows, casting fractured beams of gold and crimson across the stone floors, celestial and infernal colors, intertwined but separate, like everything else in this place.

Y/n sat among the celestial students, but she felt the divide more than ever.

The infernals occupied the opposite side of the hall, draped in shadows where the light didn't quite reach. The celestial students remained poised and composed, their faces unreadable, while the infernals lounged in forced nonchalance, their tension masked by grins that didn't reach their eyes.

Two storms, sitting on opposite ends of the same battlefield.

At the front of the hall, Headmaster Solmora stood before them, his presence commanding, his robes flowing like liquid night. His face was calm, too calm. His voice, smooth and measured, echoed through the high ceilings like a sermon.

"As of today, new restrictions will be put in place to ensure the stability of our institution."

Y/n's fingers drummed against her knee. Here we go.

Beside her, Jake shifted, arms crossed over his chest. He hated this. She could tell by the way his jaw tightened, the way his shoulders held an edge of restrained frustration. He had seen this before the slow tightening of control, the careful manipulation of words that didn't sound like threats but were.

"These measures are not meant to punish," Solmora continued, his voice even, too even. "But to preserve. Until the investigation into recent events is complete, celestial and infernal students will be monitored more closely. There will be stricter curfews, and shared activities will be regulated to prevent further... disputes."

Jake let out a soft, dry laugh under his breath. "So, separation until we all behave like good little soldiers. Great."

She smirked. "We should start taking bets on how long it takes for someone to break the rules."

Jake arched a brow. "You mean for you to break the rules?"

She gasped, pressing a hand to her chest in mock offense. "You wound me."

Jake just gave her a look.

She grinned. "Fine. I give it two days."

Jake pretended to consider. "Three, if you're trying to be subtle."

"I'm never subtle."

"That's what worries me."

Despite the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, Y/n could see it, the shadow in his expression. The tension in his shoulders. This wasn't just another round of Academy politics. It was something worse.

Jake had spent his whole life being careful. Y/n had spent hers pushing the line.

And now, the line was being redrawn.

Solmora continued, his tone light but his words heavy.

"There will be no further warnings," he said simply. "Any student caught violating these regulations will face the consequences."

Consequences.

She didn't roll her eyes, but she wanted to.

No one had actually explained what that meant. Would students be expelled? Detained? Were they going to start dragging people out of their dorms in the middle of the night?

Because that's what this felt like.

Not a safety measure.

A warning.

Jake exhaled sharply. "This isn't about keeping the peace."

She glanced at him. "I know."

This wasn't about rules. It was about control. It was about tightening the leash just enough that no one noticed they were being strangled.

And worse?

It was working.

Because no one in the Grand Hall was speaking.

Because they all knew things were only going to get worse.

Y/n wasn't supposed to care.

That's what she told herself. That's what they were all supposed to believe.

The Celestial Heir had been murdered. A demon had done it. End of story.

Except, it wasn't.

Not to her.

And the more she thought about it, the less any of it made sense.

The dining hall was loud, but it wasn't the kind of noise that came from casual conversation.

It was charged.

Laughter that carried a little too sharp, hushed murmurs that died the moment someone walked past. The new restrictions had already shifted the Academy's atmosphere, less like a school, more like a war camp.

Y/n felt it. The way students sat in clusters, celestial and infernal tables pulled further apart than before. The way angels muttered about retribution while demons leaned into their usual indifference, except now, it wasn't just for show.

And Y/n?

She was somewhere in between.

She didn't have many good options.

Most of the celestial tables were already full.

Not that she'd sit there anyway.

She had burned too many bridges to be welcomed among the devout, the ones who recited rules like scripture and followed orders without blinking.

The feeling was mutual.

She could already hear the whispers.

"She got written up last month for sneaking into the restricted archives."

"She made Daeon cry during sparring."

"She told Instructor Ren that his strategy lessons were outdated."

(Which—they were.)

She had argued with most of them at least once. Fought with a few. Gotten some in trouble just for existing nearby.

They weren't especially fond of her.

She wasn't particularly fond of them either.

She stuck out her tongue at one of them as she walked past, watching as their face twisted in irritation.

Jake sighed beside her. "Really?"

She shrugged. "If they're going to stare, I might as well give them something to look at."

Jake pinched the bridge of his nose but said nothing. He had long since given up on trying to force her to be likable.

Her gaze flicked across the room, searching.

Great.

The only open table was Sunoo's.

Sunoo had never been a loner before.

He used to command a room, not because he wanted to, but because he didn't know how to exist any other way. He had a way of pulling attention, of standing just a little too tall, speaking just a little too loud. People followed him, even when they didn't want to.

But now?

They avoided him.

It wasn't just grief.

It was the black cloud around him, the weight of something heavier than mourning.

She didn't mind Sunoo.

He was sharp, prideful, too much of an open wound to be handled delicately, but he was also different. And if there was one thing Y/n could respect, it was someone who didn't fit neatly into the mold they were given.

So without hesitating, she sat.

Jake followed, though his disapproval was loud, even in silence.

They settled at the far edge of the table, just enough distance to make it clear they weren't trying to intrude.

Sunoo didn't look up.

Didn't acknowledge them.

Jake exhaled through his nose, picking up his utensils without a word.

Y/n, however, didn't wait.

She grabbed an apple and leaned into her chair. "So," she said, breaking the silence, "what exactly did they find at the crime scene?"

Jake didn't react at first.

Sunoo did.

His gaze flicked toward her, sharp and suspicious.

"Why?" he asked flatly.

She shrugged, spearing a piece of fruit with her fork. "Just wondering."

Sunoo's stare lingered. Unimpressed. Unamused.

"You don't just wonder about things like that."

He wasn't wrong.

Jake set his glass down, slow and deliberate.

She knew that move, controlled. Guarded.

He had stiffened but not too much. He was watching, waiting, trying to figure out where she was going with this.

She exhaled through her nose. "It just seems... convenient."

Jake blinked. "Convenient?"

Y/n leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice.

"A demon blade," she said. "Infernal energy, scattered across the room like a warning sign. Doesn't it seem a little... obvious?"

Sunoo's expression hardened.

"You think it wasn't a demon?"

"I think," she said carefully, "that it's strange how quickly the Council decided the case was closed."

That hit a nerve.

Sunoo scoffed, shaking his head. "What does it matter?"

Y/n glanced at Jake. He wasn't stopping her. Not yet.

So she kept going.

"The Council never makes decisions this fast," she pressed. "And it's not just that, it's the way they're acting."

Jake's jaw tightened. "They're acting like they already know the answer."

Sunoo leaned back, crossing his arms. "Because they do. A demon did it. Why are you making this more complicated than it needs to be?"

She tapped her fingers against the table. Slow. Rhythmic. Calculated.

"The Celestial Heir wasn't just anyone," she said. "He was supposed to rule. If a demon really did assassinate him, don't you think they'd want a bigger show of force?"

Sunoo frowned. "What?"

Y/n met his gaze.

"Think about it. If demons really wanted to start a war, they wouldn't do it in secret. They'd send a message. They'd send a battalion. Not a single assassin in the middle of the night."

That gave Sunoo pause.

She saw it in the way his fingers twitched, in the way he tilted his head slightly, just enough to tell her he was thinking about it.

For a moment, she thought she had him.

Then, his expression closed off.

"Even if it was suspicious," he muttered, "what does it change?"

She hesitated.

What does it change?

Everything.

But she didn't say that.

Instead, she sighed, pushing her plate away. "Nothing, I guess."

Jake nudged her knee under the table.

A warning.

She wasn't done, but for now, she would let it rest.

Y/n didn't get her answer.

But someone knew she was asking.

Later that evening, when she opened her books to review war theory notes, something slipped out, a small folded scrap of parchment, wedged between the pages.

She almost dismissed it as another forgotten note.

Until she read the words.

Stop asking questions about the Heir.

That was it.

No name. No signature. No indication of who had written it.

But it wasn't an outright threat.

It was worse.

It was a reminder that she was being watched.

Y/n's breath was steady, but her fingers weren't.

She stared at the message, replaying the conversation at lunch. Who had overheard?

A chair scraped the floor behind her.

She crumpled the note into her palm just as Jake sat across from her.

He frowned slightly. "You okay?"

She forced a smirk, slipping the note into her sleeve. "Never better."

Jake didn't look convinced. But he didn't push, either.

He already worried too much.

And now?

Now, she was sure.

The murder wasn't random. The Heir knew something. And someone was trying to bury it.

Y/n made a choice.

She was going to find out the truth.

No matter what it took.

War wasn't coming. It was already here.

Not with swords, not yet, but with legislation, orders, and education.

The Academy had introduced a mandatory battle strategy course under the guise of "historical study." Officially, it was meant to analyze the tactics of the First War, breaking down celestial and infernal military strategies for the sake of understanding.

But no one was naïve enough to believe that was all it was.

This class wasn't about history. It was about preparing for the war to come.

The lecture hall was buzzing with low chatter when Y/n walked in, scanning the room for an empty seat.

Her first mistake was assuming she had a choice.

"Find your assigned seat," the professor's voice rang out, deep and authoritative. "Your partners have already been chosen."

She suppressed a sigh.

Professor Aldric wasn't someone who tolerated nonsense. An older celestial, but one of the few who claimed to be neutral. Whether or not that was true was another matter. His graying hair was cropped short, and his piercing gaze had a way of rooting students in place. He wasn't as strict as some of the instructors, but he had a reputation for calculated discipline.

And unfortunately, he wasn't finished talking.

"This course will function as a means of analysis," Aldric continued. "You will be partnered with someone from the opposing side. Your task is to evaluate past war strategies, what worked, what failed, and what should never be repeated. You are expected to learn from each other, not argue pointlessly about whose nation is superior."

Y/n doubted that last part was possible.

She exhaled through her nose, already bracing herself for whoever she was about to be stuck with.

She scanned the list of assigned seats on the board.

Her stomach dropped.

Paired with: Jungwon.

Perfect.

She spotted him at their table before he saw her.

Jungwon sat with the same calculated ease he always did, posture deliberately relaxed, arms draped over the desk like nothing around him was worth his attention. It was effortless, practiced, the kind of unbothered composure that made people second-guess themselves. Like this class, this assignment, and the fact that she was walking toward him were equally unworthy of his time.

Y/n, on the other hand, gripped her pen a little too tightly.

She slid into the seat beside him, her movements clipped, controlled. The moment she did, the air between them changed, tightened, sharpened into something tense and unspoken.

Jungwon barely acknowledged her.

Y/n didn't speak.

But even in silence, they drew attention.

At first, it was just passing glances, curious flickers of interest from their classmates. But curiosity turned into something else. Something heavier. Because this wasn't just any celestial paired with any demon.

Y/n and Jungwon were both outliers.

She had never fit the celestial mold, too outspoken, too reckless, too quick to challenge authority when she should have followed it. She wasn't soft-spoken, she wasn't poised, and she certainly wasn't the type to stand aside when someone told her to. She had a sharp tongue, a restless mind, and a way of making people either respect her or avoid her entirely.

Jungwon, on the other hand, was something demons didn't understand.

Demons thrived on impulse, chaos, the thrill of provocation. They fought to prove their strength, to leave a mark, to claim something as theirs. Jungwon never did.

He didn't stir chaos for the sake of it. He didn't waste his energy on mindless fights or cheap power plays. He was still, composed, controlled. He didn't raise his voice when he was angry, he simply spoke, and people listened.

And that was why demons feared him.

They avoided him because they couldn't predict him. Because they could fight recklessness, match arrogance with arrogance, but Jungwon?

Jungwon was something else entirely.

People didn't just look because it was unusual. They looked because it didn't make sense.

A celestial who didn't act like one.

A demon who didn't need to prove himself.

And the space between them, thin as a blade's edge, humming with an unspoken challenge neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

She could feel it.

And she hated that she could.

Jungwon didn't look at her right away.

For a while, he just sat there, leaning back in his chair, fingers tapping idly against the edge of the desk. Not impatient. Not distracted. Just waiting.

Y/n ignored him.

Or at least, she tried to.

But she could feel it, the weight of their last encounter still lingering in the space between them. The moment in the courtyard. The way he had intervened. The way he had looked at her afterward.

Like he had seen something he hadn't expected.

Like he hadn't quite figured out what to do with her yet.

She exhaled slowly, drumming her fingers against the desk before tilting her head toward him.

"So..." she drawled, keeping her voice light. "Did the guy you sent flying into the wall forgave you?"

Jungwon finally glanced at her, unbothered. "I wouldn't know."

Y/n raised a brow. "You didn't ask?"

Jungwon shrugged. "Why would I?"

She huffed. "You're seriously not even a little regretful?"

"No." Jungwon leaned back in his chair, completely unconcerned. "It's not like I apologized."

Y/n blinked. "Not even a fake apology?"

"Why would I fake something I don't mean?"

She scoffed, shaking her head. "You're impossible."

Jungwon smirked. "And yet, here you are, still talking to me."

Y/n exhaled sharply. "Unfortunately."

Jungwon hummed, but didn't argue.

For a second, the conversation felt like something else, like a game. Like neither of them was actually trying to win, just waiting to see how long the other would keep playing.

But then,

The assignment.

She cleared her throat, opening her notebook. "The celestial strategy was justified," she started, keeping her voice neutral. "The war was inevitable, but our methods ensured survival. We took calculated action. We didn't fight just to fight."

Jungwon let out a short, almost silent laugh. "That's what you tell yourselves?"

Y/n frowned. "It's the truth."

Jungwon finally turned toward her, his expression shifting just slightly, enough to make her sit up straighter.

"You think your side was righteous?" he mused, voice smooth, controlled. "Tell me, does righteous war include burning entire cities?"

She inhaled sharply.

She knew that. She knew what had been done.

But hearing it from him, so blunt, so matter-of-fact, sent a strange weight settling in her chest.

Her fingers curled around her pen. "You're one to talk. Your kind—"

Jungwon's expression flickered. Not in anger, but something else. Something quiet.

His voice dropped, the teasing edge vanishing. Now, it was something different.

"My kind?"

He leaned in slightly, not enough to touch, but enough that she felt the space shrink between them.

"Say it."

Y/n held his gaze.

The class had gone still. Conversations slowed. People were watching, listening, waiting for what would happen next.

For the first time, she wondered how much Jungwon actually hated her.

And why, somehow, it didn't feel like hatred at all.

She straightened her shoulders, refusing to look away. "You know what I meant."

Jungwon tilted his head. "Do I?"

She exhaled, forcing herself to push forward. "The infernal strategy was reckless. You destroyed celestial cities just to prove a point. It wasn't defense, it was chaos. There was no structure, no discipline. That's why you lost."

Jungwon's gaze sharpened. "You think we lost?"

Y/n blinked. "You didn't win."

Jungwon leaned back, studying her. "Winning and losing are concepts celestials care about. For us, it wasn't about that."

She scoffed. "Right. Because it's so much more noble to burn everything down without thinking of the consequences."

Jungwon's lips curled slightly. "You think your side thought about the consequences? You think they hesitated before sending fire down on those cities?"

Y/n's jaw clenched.

Jungwon continued. "Maybe we never wanted to win. Maybe it was about something else entirely."

She frowned. "Like what?"

Jungwon was quiet for a moment. Then—

"Like proving that no one should rule."

She stilled.

That—

That wasn't what she had expected him to say.

His voice was quieter now, less sharp, but somehow heavier. "Celestials fight for control. Demons fight to break it. We weren't trying to take the throne from you." He exhaled slowly. "We were trying to burn it."

Y/n didn't answer right away.

Because—

Because maybe there was something in that.

Something she had never thought about before.

She looked at him then, really looked at him, and for the first time, she wasn't just arguing with a demon.

She was arguing with someone who might understand something she didn't.

The air between them shifted. Not softer. Not lighter.

Just different.

And maybe, just for a moment

She wasn't sure who was winning anymore.

Then—

Laughter.

Slow, amused, deliberate.

The moment snapped like a thread pulled too tight.

Y/n turned her head toward the source, already knowing who it was before she saw him.

Heeseung.

The one person at the Academy who never played by the rules, not the celestial ones, not the infernal ones, not even his own.

A trickster. A wild card. A demon who found joy in chaos, not because he craved destruction, but because he liked watching how people unraveled.

And right now?

He was watching them.

"You know," Heeseung mused, lazily propping his chin on his hand, "I think you two should argue more often. It's kind of thrilling."

She exhaled sharply. "Oh, shut up."

Jungwon didn't acknowledge him, his gaze still set ahead, posture as still as ever. But Y/n saw it, the slow exhale through his nose, the slight shift in his fingers against the desk.

It wasn't much. Barely noticeable.

But Heeseung noticed.

He always noticed.

And worse? He enjoyed it.

Heeseung was an expert in tension. He could feel it crackling in the air, something sharp, something raw, something unresolved.

Most would step away from it.

Heeseung stepped toward it.

And so, before she could even think to react, Heeseung was there, close, too close, his body language lazy but deliberate, his presence an interruption as much as an invitation.

"You know," he murmured, reaching out with casual ease, plucking a stray lock of her hair between his fingers, twirling it idly. "You'd make an excellent strategist."

She raised a brow, unimpressed. "And why's that?"

"Because you're sharp," Heeseung said smoothly, voice like silk threaded with something sharper beneath it. "Quick. You think on your feet. You know how to get under people's skin."

His lips curled at the edges, and his fingers brushed lightly against her strands before letting them slip away.

"A little reckless, maybe," he added, tilting his head, "but that just makes you more fun to watch."

Y/n scoffed. "Glad to know I'm entertaining."

"Oh, very," Heeseung grinned.

Then—

"In fact," he mused, as if the thought had just occurred to him, "maybe you should come by my dorm sometime. We can study strategy together."

His tone was too casual.

She blinked. Oh.

There it was. The shift.

She knew exactly what he meant.

Jungwon didn't react.

Not in any way that mattered. Not in any way anyone else would notice.

But Heeseung wasn't just anyone else.

His gaze flicked toward Jungwon, just for a second.

And he saw it.

The smallest, most imperceptible change.

Jungwon's fingers curled subtly into the fabric of his sleeve.

Not much. Barely anything at all.

But it was there.

And to Heeseung? That was everything.

His smirk deepened, his attention drifting back to her with renewed interest.

"You want to study strategy?" Y/n deadpanned.

"Of course," Heeseung said innocently, but his smirk betrayed him. "I'll even let you pick the battlefield."

She narrowed her eyes. "You mean the desk or the bed?"

Heeseung grinned, teeth sharp, eyes darker than before. "See? You catch on fast."

His gaze dipped, not subtle, not shy. He let his eyes trail from her face, down, then back up, taking his time in a way that was meant to be noticed.

She shoved him away with a scoff, warmth creeping up her neck despite herself.

Jungwon still didn't react.

But his grip on his sleeve was tight.

Heeseung saw.

Heeseung always saw.

And now?

He had confirmation.

His gaze flicked sideways toward Jungwon, a glint of something dangerous and amused in his expression.

"Jealous?"

Jungwon didn't answer.

Didn't blink.

Didn't give him anything.

But—

The air shifted.

Heeseung felt it.

And that was enough.

His grin widened. "Not talking? That's fine." His voice was teasing, but his eyes were sharp. "I think I already have my answer."

Jungwon remained silent.

But Heeseung knew.

And that?

That was fun.

Jungwon and Heeseung weren't friends.

Not really.

They had known each other for years, but knowing someone and understanding them were two different things.

Heeseung was chaos incarnate, a force of unpredictability who enjoyed life the most when it was on the edge of unraveling.

Jungwon? He was control, calculation, someone who could read a battlefield in seconds and bend it to his will.

That's why they didn't work.

And that's why Heeseung loved messing with him.

Most demons knew better than to poke at Jungwon.

He was respected. Feared. Avoided. Not because he was the loudest, but because he was the quietest.

Because his silence wasn't weakness.

It was unreadable.

Demons were reckless by nature. They played, they fought, they acted without thought. But Jungwon?

Jungwon didn't act. He waited.

Heeseung found that fascinating.

Heeseung, who never knew when to stop. Who never met a rule he didn't want to break. Who thrived in the art of making people unravel.

Jungwon never unraveled.

That was until Y/n.

Heeseung had known Jungwon for a long time. Long enough to know when something got to him.

And Y/n, she got to him.

Heeseung wasn't stupid. He saw the way Jungwon watched her, the way his indifference sharpened whenever she spoke. The way he went from dismissive to intrigued.

So, of course, Heeseung took his chance.

And he wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon.

The professor's dismissal rang through the room, but the tension lingered.

She was the first to stand.

Not because she was in a hurry, but because she needed distance.

She refused to be the one to break eye contact first, but she also wasn't about to sit there any longer than necessary.

She could still feel it.

The weight of Jungwon's gaze. The sharp edges of their conversation, the words still echoing in her head like an unfinished battle.

She didn't look at him.

She wouldn't.

But she felt him there, unmoving, unreadable, watching.

She exhaled through her nose, gripping her notebook a little too tightly as she turned on her heel. She didn't need to look to know he wasn't following.

But he was still watching.

And that was worse.

Jungwon didn't move.

Didn't glance away.

Didn't let the conversation leave his mind as easily as he let Y/n leave the room.

She was still bristling. He could tell.

She had been too controlled when she stood up, too stiff.

Not because she had lost.

Because she hated that she hadn't won.

Jungwon tilted his head slightly, watching the way she walked away, purposeful, but not rushed. She didn't run from things.

That was what made her different.

And different?

Was dangerous.

A low chuckle broke the silence beside him.

Jungwon exhaled through his nose before he even turned his head.

Heeseung.

The other demon leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms lazily behind his head, grinning like he had just been thoroughly entertained.

"Well," Heeseung mused, "that was fun."

Jungwon didn't respond.

Didn't acknowledge him.

Which, of course, only encouraged him.

Heeseung sighed dramatically, standing up, letting his movements be deliberately slow.

"Come on," he drawled, shaking his head. "I know you love me, but staring at Y/n like that is going to make me jealous."

Jungwon shot him a flat look. "I don't stare."

Heeseung's grin widened.

"You don't blink when she's in the room," he countered. "It's basically the same thing."

Jungwon said nothing.

Didn't flinch.

Didn't react.

And that was enough of an answer.

Heeseung hummed under his breath, watching Jungwon's carefully maintained silence with too much amusement.

"See, this is why I like you," Heeseung said, voice light but knowing. "You pretend you don't care, and yet..."

Jungwon ignored him.

Grabbed his things. Moved toward the door without a word.

Heeseung just watched him go, his smirk deepening, eyes flashing with something far too entertained.

The class was over.

But this?

This was just getting started.

Y/n knew it.

Jungwon knew it.

And Heeseung?

He was just looking forward to watching it all unfold.

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🏷️ @whateveridontcaresheesh @iifrui @stormy1408 @indigoez @riribelle (Comment to be added)

98 notes · View notes

yikimiki · 2 years ago

Note

Can I please request;

King eren who's been lusting after his personal maid for the longest time. Smut when he has her clean every inch of him during a bath and tells her to clean his cock with her mouth.

I LOVE fantasy aus, this was heaven-sent. Note! Eren is older here, around his early 30s, and I imagined reader to be around early/mid 20’s (though age isn’t specified). Also this is LONG! I don’t know WC Bc I wrote on tumblr but i guess around 4-5K!! 🪦

>> of marble and gold

⚠️ warnings: smut, obvious power imbalance/abuse (so dub-con), dark content because Eren is… obsessive, heavy objectification/degradation of reader (“whore” and such), oral, creampie, bruising/marking

—

The brown leaves twirl to the ground as a new season begins, and King Eren’s patience — and self-control — has reached its limit. After almost fifty years of the Jaeger family negotiating with the neighboring kingdom, the new ruler broke tradition like it was nothing more than a frail wax seal. The message is clear: no more commercial settlements, no more food trade, until they returned with the treasure they had stolen nearly a century ago. Until the vaults are full, and his people are once again able to enjoy their own crops, friendly conversations are off the table.

Surprisingly, it works. After panic has subsided and a tense meeting is scheduled, the threat of an upcoming war is larger than the power of negotiation — with that, a new system is at play, and the table dips a little more towards Eren’s kingdom.

It’s one of the easiest years in a long, long time — plates are full, the people are happy, and the small economy is finally blossoming into something more substancial. Eren is constantly surrounded by all types of people who seek to impress him (or take his newly found riches), little annoying flies buzzing around him during the day, then trying to enter his chambers at night.

But Eren is difficult to impress. He’s a serious man with serious goals, and a short dress skit or an inviting deal isn’t enough to make him pay attention. However, amidst all that calamity, you manage to make him double take.

The influx of people to his lands came with the news of a fruitful economy, so it isn’t a surprise that he doesn’t immediately recognize you. There are countless new servants in the castle, some of which are constantly out of his sight, so your random appearance is, in a way, expected. And, yet, amongst so many faces, his gaze stills in yours.

Once again, Eren is a serious man with serious goals — and with even more serious needs and desires. The switch of your position (from a kitchen servant to his personal maid) is swift and direct, leaving no room for objection. It’s not typical for women to assist royal men in such personal affairs such as bathing or clothing — not officially, at least — so he expects that the change with cause a little fuss. But no one has the guts to go against him.

The first time you see King Eren, he is a giant in front of you, watching closely as you kneel in front of his throne. There are dark shadows over his face and his green eyes shine with amusement, long brown hair falling like a cascade over his features. There’s a hint of a smile on his lips as he tells you to stand, and countless scars on his hand as he holds yours and orders you to be at his chamber at nightfall, so you can help him bathe. You agree and leave hurriedly, heartbeat booming in your ears.

Eren is a handsome man, that much you knew. But what you didn’t know is how massive and overtaking his very presence is — well, you suppose that is expected of any monarch, but it’s different when you witness it yourself. He is the center of the galaxy and everyone else, yourself included, is simply gravitating around him, moving aimlessly through life until he, even if briefly, gives meaning to it. To have someone so great, so respected, to personally chose you amongst so many to serve him… is strange.

You’re not naive — the years being both a commoner and a woman have taught you more than most maids in the castle would’ve dreamt of living. You know what men want, especially powerful ones like Eren, and you know your position is extremely delicate. Even if, now, you don’t wish to deny any of his advances, you know that the mere possibility would mean death to you. So you accept, even knowing you’re placing a noose around your neck. Even knowing you’re only getting out of this if he loses interest or, somberly, dead.

The first night you spend in Eren’s chambers you know that the first option is nearly impossible. He looks at you like you’re a mythical being, the finest piece of art, watching your movements closely as you help him bathe — your hands moving up and down on the water, keeping the circle of wetting the rag, cleaning his skin, and wetting it again. You’re strictly professional, never staring at his body, especially the parts beneath the water. From your peripheral vision, you see his defined muscles and deep battle scars, but don’t dare to look at it directly.

“Where did you come from?” He asks eventually, scaring you and making you drop the piece of soap in your hands. Eren’s voice is deep and commanding even in such intimate situation, and you feel yourself shrinking. “You’re not from here.”

The second part isn’t a question. “I came from the East, my king.”

Eren isn’t satisfied by your answer. “Why did you come?”

“My family’s farm was burnt down and I needed to work, my king,” you tell him, placing the dirty rag aside as you move to reach for the soap. Thankfully there is a layer of bubbles on the water now, and there is nothing else to see. “So I came here.”

He hums, laying back against the cool material. “Look at your king,” he orders. You blink, overwhelmed, and do as he says. His eyes are looking directly at your soul, one wet strand of hair glued to his forehead, and you squeeze the bar of soap so tightly that your nails dig to the surface. “Better. What is your name?”

You tell him.

“You’re beautiful,” he says. You gulp and sit back against your heels, watching as his hand moves closer to you, pushing your hair behind your ear. Shadows and candlelight reflects on his face like a dream. “It’s quite obvious you’re a foreigner. We don’t have women as beautiful as you.”

“T-Thank you, my king.” You look down. Your heart hammers like a caged bird against your ribcage, your lungs fight against expectation. His touch lingers. “I believe your bath is finished, your highness, do you wish for me to help you into—“

“Finished?” He raises one eyebrow, and you feel the noose around your neck tighten. “It is not. You forgot a place.”

You lower your head. “My deepest apologies, your highness.”

He hums, then startles you as he abruptly rises from the water. You use all your force not to look up at him. “Come. Dry me.”

You blink. “My king, what about…”

“Don’t argue, sweet girl. Your king commands you,” Eren says. There is poison dripping from his lips and you nod, getting up to your feet. “Dry me.”

You swallow. “Yes, my king.”

The pace in which you dry Eren’s body is torturous, your gaze glued to your own hands as you move the dry towel over his skin. First his face and hair, where he stares at you intently, then moving down to his chest, his arms.

Eren himself is enthralled, unable to cut his thoughts of you. Up close, you’re flawless, divine. Every movement you make is perfect, even the way you bite your lip and blink at him makes him dizzy with desire. He has never seen someone as beautiful as you, a young maiden with plump breasts and a delicate face; someone who listens to him so closely yet keeps their distance, respectful and fearful of their king — as all should be. He must have you. More than this, more than as a worker, he must have you, body and soul.

Your body arches as you move closer to his abdomen, touches becoming clearly more clumsy as your hands approach his private parts. The mere anticipation of having you so close makes Eren’s cock grow, thick and heavy, until it’s almost fully erect and you pause, startled.

“There, love. That’s where you missed a spot,” Eren says. You gulp and look up at him, wide eyes searching for something in his expression. He signals towards his erection with a movement of his head. “Clean it.”

“M-My king,” you speak, nervous. “Do you wish me to… clean you? There?”

He nods. “With your mouth. Be a good girl and clean it all up.,” he says. You lick your lips and look down at his large member — you knew it would come down to this and, yet, you are taken off guard. You didn’t think it would be this way. “And it’s Eren. These titles are making me mad with rage.”

You kneel in front of him — Eren realizes he is quite fond of that position. “Yes, my- Eren.”

Your hand seems so small against his cock, now fully erect, barely taking him halfway before your lips touch his crown. Eren is both long and thick, throbbing in your hand as you suck on his head, humming around him before daring to go a little deeper. The size makes you choke up slightly, but you prevail. You want to pleasure your king, and if this is the way, so be it.

“Don’t be afraid to put it all inside, love.” He sighs. You do as you’re told, fighting against the tears as you push more of his size inside your mouth. It touches your throat and you gag, but you don’t stop. When Eren starts to moan, a deep groan in his throat, you start to set a rhythm. “There it is, there’s my obedient whore. Just as perfect as I had imagined.”

There’s wetness building between your thighs at his filthy words, a growing desire inside you as you look up at him. Eren is a god above you, made of marble and gold, looking down at you like you’re nothing but a hole for him to use. The defined muscles of his abdomen are contracting as you suck him harder, his eyes focused on your stretched-out lips as you struggle to take him.

“Fuck… what a perfect little mouth you have,” he breathes out. You close your eyes and take him even deeper, making a string of curses and threats fall from his mouth. His large hand meets the back of your head and pulls a handful of your hair, moving your face as he likes on his cock. “Good fucking whore,” Eren moans. “My fucking whore from now on. No one will fuck you. Only me.” You gag around his cock, but he doesn’t stop. Eren fucks your mouth until you’re sobbing, until he’s about to spill inside it — and then he pushes your head away. “Get on the fucking bed. I’m going to make you mine forever.”

You’re so overwhelmed that you barely process the walk between his bathroom and the large bed — in fact, you don’t even have time to think about how that is the single largest piece of furniture you’ve ever seen before you’re thrown on the bouncy mattress. One second you’re standing next to your king, and the next Eren is looming over you, kissing you like you’re the air that he breathes, like your mouth is made of honey. His hands are all over your body, literally tearing and ripping your dress in a desperate, animalistic attempt to get you undressed.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he mumbles before he latches onto one of your breasts, sucking as his hand squeezes the other one. You’re fully naked now, lying in a bed of rags — rags that used to be your dress.

Eren marks you up with his hickeys, spanks the skin of your thighs until it’s bruised and you’re whining for him to stop. You sob and cry, but he shuts you up with another kiss just so he can tear those pretty sounds from you again.

“M-My king, please,” you beg. The wetness between your legs is embarrassing, and your body is all marked up by the time Eren is done with exploring it. He is lost in the mission of making — of marking — you his, barely even hears what you say. “I need…”

Then something clicks. He holds your face in his hand and pushes it closer to his, squeezing your cheeks together. There is fire burning at the bottom of his eyes, and you know you’ve said something wrong. “You don’t need anything, you don’t request anything. Understand? I’m your king, and you’re my whore. Act like it.”

You swallow — your throat hurts. “I’m sorry.”

“You will be.”

Eren is a serious man and a man of his word. You can’t even think about what to say to redeem yourself before he starts pushing his cock against your pussy, rubbing the tip against your folds once, twice, before slamming himself deep inside you. You sob at the feeling, walls fighting to adjust to his size, but he doesn’t even let the burning sensation subside before he starts fucking you.

“What is it? Did you not need this?” He coos. You half-nod half-shake your head, not even sure of it yourself. Eren sneers at your pathetic situation — all teary eyes and messy hair, holding onto his arms as he drills his cock in and out of your tight hole. And, yet, he still thinks you’re the most heavenly thing he has ever seen. “Your pussy feels so fucking… so fucking good.” He moans. “I’m going to fill it up every night. Get you all full with cock and cum every chance I get.”

Your eyes roll back at his words, as promise feels like a dream. You’d like that — after so many years of struggle and hard work, you would love to be a brainless little hole for your king to use and abuse whenever he wishes. You’d love to be dressed in the finest of silk and kissed with fervor, be treated like royalty, even if it isn’t true. You would love it with all your heart.

“Look at me when I fuck you, whore. Look at your king,” Eren brings you back to reality. You do as he says, meeting the savage look in his eyes as he fucks you harder, deeper, hitting all the sweet spots you didn’t even know you had. “Who do you belong to?” He asks, frowning. “Tell me.”

“Eren— I belong to you, Eren, my king,” you answer without hesitation. Your cunt squeezes him tightly as you cum hard, moaning loud and unashamed. You’d regret it in the morning but now… now you’re made of gold and marble too.

“You’re your king’s. Remember that,” he says. You nod, barely aware of the world around you as you dive deeper into pleasure. “Going to cum,” Eren strains. Forget that — now he looks like a god. Muscles tensing and jaw clenching as he uses your body however he pleases, plunging his cock inside you again and again until your wet pussy milks him dry; cock throbbing as he cums inside you. “Fuck, fuck,” he moans, hips faltering as his cock releases inside you again and again. “God, that’s so much fucking cum.”

A whine escapes your mouth as you feel it soak the sheets beneath you, but you say nothing. You dive into the moment like it’s your last one on earth: a moment in which you’re monarchy, loved and fucked into bliss, not a care in the world but the feeling dripping between your thighs. Though, the illusion never lasts long — you watch as Eren finishes and then rolls around next to you, staring at the ceiling with a sigh.

Even after everything, it feels wrong. Like you shouldn’t be here. “M-My king,” you speak after a second of silence, “should I go?”

He turns to you, somber as always. You can’t decipher his tone as he answers. “Not yet,” Eren speaks. “Only when the sun comes up. If I’m done with you by then.”

#aot smut #eren smut #attack on titan smut #eren x reader #eren x you #snk smut #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger x you #king eren #eren fic

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dandelionjack · 1 year ago

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the main mistake that people who dislike s8 and put it low in their series rankings make is the belief that, like any other series (apart from s9), it’s a collection of standalone stories tied together by some vague throughline i.e. missy’s ‘heaven’. “oh, this episode’s mid, that episode’s bad” meanwhile it’s not about individual episodes at all. i firmly believe that it should be viewed as a singular long serial.

so grateful that i was extremely late to the party and binged it all in a week instead of watching every episode as they were airing, because sometimes the plots barely matter at all. do you remember what the skovox blitzer actually looks like or what it wanted with coal hill in the first place? hardly. i had to google its name. but what you do remember from the caretaker is twelve acting like an antagonistic prick towards danny, and that’s what matters. almost every villainous entity is some kind of soldier, the contempt twelve shows to everybody but clara becomes the source of their toxicity… in the forest of the night is pretty obviously rubbish scifi, but it demonstrates danny’s fundamental incompatibility with clara, as well as the scene in which clara is ready to sacrifice herself and her students for the doctor’s sake, foreshadowing their reckless, almost suicidal codependency.

point is, but it really does work best as a tightly woven tapestry. sure, some episodes succeed individually, but most of the individual plots are mildly exciting only in a ‘this is fun to watch for kids’ way… UNLESS you approach them from the overarching perspective. i.e. mummy on the orient express has wonderful style, a thrilling mystery, creative concepts and interesting side characters, but its story appeal hinges on the twelveclara failed breakup. listen is frightening enough, but its entire story appeal hinges on just how much clara affects the doctor’s values past and present, and whether or not she has a future with danny (she doesn’t).

what i’m saying is, the narrative in s8 is a non-negotiable package deal. buy one, get them all. and it has no skips. i hate the idiotic pro-life message in kill the moon as much as the next sensible person, but what the episode does well is really hammer home how much of a sanctimonious asshole twelve initially is, which is crucial to his future character evolution.

tldr; the correct way to watch series 8 is all in one go. series 8 is great. more love for series 8

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justwannabecat · 2 years ago

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It was quiet. That suited Danny just fine. After all, he had endured enough to realize that noise often meant something was about to happen. Nowadays the only times he heard something that wasn’t caused by himself was if Cujo came to visit. The first time it happened, Danny was afraid he would have to fight again, but all they did was play for a while. The second time he welcomed it, same with every time thereafter.

He had plenty of time to stargaze. Nobody really visited the Antarctic, so it was perfect for him. Cold, quiet, and with no light pollution, so he could see every single star in the night sky. He could see the Southern Lights as they dance through the air, he could trace the paths of the planets as Earth rotates.

He wanted to leave. He wanted to explore. He wanted to see all there was to see, get lost in the endless cosmos, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know if his human half would survive that long without food. He didn’t want to find out.

Besides, Jazz was here. She was still on Earth, and as much as Danny wanted to leave, he couldn’t. Not while she was still here. Even if he couldn’t bring himself to visit her, to see the disappointment that would no doubt be clear in her eyes, he couldn’t completely abandon her.

As with every time he thought about Jazz, he briefly considered visiting her, but decided against it. If she really wanted to find him she could use the Boo-merang. The fact that it hadn’t happened yet was enough proof that his presence was unneeded.

Besides, why would he leave? He has a sick tower made out of unmeltable ice! It’s been furnished with things that, admittedly, he may have stolen, but only things that would have been destroyed soon anyways! He doesn’t cause any of the disasters that endanger so many pieces of furniture, but he’ll take advantage of it! You can only sleep on hard ice so many times before you realize how nice beds really are.

The point is, he doesn’t leave unless he has to. And since he’s furnished the place, he hasn’t had to leave once. It’s been like a slice of heaven- No ghosts to fight, no hunters to hide from, no insane billionaires who can’t decide whether to kill him or adopt him…

Danny looked up at the night sky again. He could see Acrux twinkling brightly overhead.

It was quiet.

———————————————

“I’ve got bad news and worse news.” Constantine announced at the next League meeting. “Bad news, beings from the Infinite Realms are, from this point forward, unable to be summoned. Wouldn’t be too bad if we weren’t trying to make peace negotiations with them, but we are, so it’s not great.”

Batman remained visibly impassive, though anyone who knew him could tell just how unsettled that made him. “And the worse news?”

Constantine sighed. “So… Before they blocked themselves off, I spoke to one of them. The Guardian of Time. He told me that, due to his perception of all time, he knew we would lose. Luckily he doesn’t want humanity to die, but he told me that Phantom ghost has a medallion in his chest that makes him immune to his abilities. As such, our one hope of survival could be anywhere by now. The only things he could tell us were that he’s probably not far from Earth, because he still has living relatives.”

Superman straightened up. “That doesn’t sound like it’s worse news. We know Phantom is near Earth and that he’s got relatives here. Surely he would go back to them, right?”

“Well. I didn’t really get to that part yet.” Constantine shifted uncomfortably. “You have to swear to not tell anyone who doesn’t already know. This is like people learning your civilian identities. If you ever try to use it against them, hell, even insinuate that you’re gonna use it, then they will kill you, and they won’t face punishment from their court because it’s technically self defense. Understand?”

Everyone readily agreed. After a second, Constantine continued.

“Phantom is Danny Fenton. He’s what the Guardian of Time called a Halfa, half ghost and half human. His parents are the ghost hunters who started this whole thing.”

Tag list: @random-dude12 @overtherose @osnii @profounddestinyrebel @currentlyalivebutmentlyd3ad @thatonegirl10 @learning-to-fly-on-my-own @epilepticnerd @alcorbearson @hoarder-of-gender @sirtin @oddessy @naluforever3 @litlecameron @skulld3mort-1fan @nogenderonlyfrogie @screamingtofillthevoid @the-church-grimm @malice-of-the-sunrise @jaytriesstuff @legowerewolf @akikkobara @apointlessbox @midigeria @kumoko-yokai @antmeisteronion @lizz-blizt @anonymousf28 @keegan-parker @sailor-goddess @rowanaway-fromthisbs @yjfk @screechingnoises @myfloweryrose @derpxp @adeniumdream @56thingsinaname @demiourgias @alice-hazelwood @mur-ururu @blue-avis @rosecinnamonbun @babbling-babull @yumeyoruppr @haron-ghost-10 @icedbluesoul @busterkeel @cat-in-a-fedora @sadpersonmadeoffruitpunch

#Quasar AU #danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #justice league #so yeah Clockwork knows that the future looks shitty #but when the only chance at stopping it has an artifact that immunizes him to your future sight #what else can you do #yup. next chance Clockwork gets you know he’s gonna take that back.#for now the JL are gonna have to spread out #but Danny lives in a tower made of ICE.#it’s reflective. whoopsie #also the tag isn’t working for a few people #if you asked to be tagged but it isn’t working please understand I tried #also put this off for like a week because of the tag list ugggghhh #part 2

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anomaly-hivemind · 1 month ago

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Snacks for you, cheese for me | Sonic x Shadow x Mouse! Reader

Tags: Major Character Death, fluff, angst, hurt no comfort, pining, Crackfic, unserious and stupid Word Count: 940

You were hanging out with Sonic and Shadow as you did on the regular, sitting under a tree and just enjoying each other's presence in relative silence. But it didn’t last long since Sonic was a D1 yapper.

“It’s so hot out today. At least it’s nice and shady under this tree, but my quills keep getting caught in the bark, do you have that problem too shadow?” Sonic asked looking over to Shadow. Shadow gave him a lethal side-eye before looking away, ignoring the question.

“Well at least you don’t have that problem being a mouse and all,” Sonic said flashing his signature smile at you. It made your heart flutter a little. After a while, you realized that you were staring and got flustered.

Quick think of something! Say something so he doesn’t think you’re weird!

“W-Well I’m not fully a mouse if you could believe that!”

“What?” Shadow caught part of the tail end of the conversation you were having with Sonic and had a confused look on his face which looked more like a grimace.

“Yeah, my great-great-great-grandfather was a guinea pig, but he died in the war,”

“The war?” Sonic questioned.

“The great guinea pig war of course, they ran out of cannon balls so he strapped ten pounds of dynamite to his body and catapulted himself at the enemy. The other side was so moved that they came to peace negotiations.”

“...How noble,” Shadow said with a deadpanned expression.

“Yeah, and my Grandmother is a hamster but other than them I’m all mouse,” you smile at them.

They both nodded in understanding and for a moment you could focus on the sounds of nature before Sonic piped back up.

“Shadow come sit with us.” You called out to him, in a squeakish tone that you couldn’t help and was very demanding.

Shadow reluctantly sits down beside Sonic and you let out a little huff since he didn’t sit beside you but you try not to let them notice. You dig into your bag and grab a bunch of snacks for you all and a block of cheese for yourself. Sonic takes your treat happily and starts to eat what was given to him; vacuuming chilly dogs by the pound. Shadow gives you a little side-eye mutters a thank you and takes the snacks from you as well. You all ate and joked and flirted with each other a bit.

You laugh at one of the monologues that Sonic had told moments ago and the cheese slid down to block in your windpipe; you start to choke on your log of cheese. Both Sonic and Shadow give you a worried look and start to go into action. You try to hack up the log of cheese.

No one could save you and you end up at the pearly gates of hamster heaven. You had accidentally offed yourself by eating your favorite treat. At least they get to add your death to their trauma story. They had carried you off to the nearest hospital with super speed. But you somehow manage to choke on cheese in such a way that there was no point in saving you. Or at least that's what was said when you got there.

At least one of the doctors gave them a wicked discount for coffins so it helps to deal with your final financial burden. Sonic couldn’t stop crying for days and he ran in fast circles around that hospital that had a shitty structure, which caused it to cave and sink into the ground. Killing hundreds of patients and workers. Whoops gotta go fast I guess. Shadow comforts Sonic the best he can, pulling him out from the depths of hospital rubble and into… his arms.

Sonic cried into Shadow's arms, kissing his quilly face in an attempt to try to soothe their new mental wounds.

“We have to have a funeral,” Shadow muttered and they got all their friend to gather so they could have an open-casket funeral. It's what you would have wanted they assumed at least. It was a few hours or so after your death. Shadow and Sonic sat by your grave, holding hands and sitting close to one another, tears dripping down their fur-covered faces.

Abruptly a mousey hand crawled from the ground of your freshly and probably poorly dug grave. The soil caved and they took a step back watching as… well you escaped your coffin and climbed out of the ground without dying a second time.

“Oh shit oh my god MOUSE, Are you alive?” Sonic spoke and Shadow looked hopeful and shocked.

“Lol no, I’m just descending from my corporeal form and didn’t notice you guys still being here.” You squeaked with joy as you started to float into the sky.

“Goodbye My lovely throuple, never find another to replace me. Get gay married and be happy again. I will be watching you hungrily and leave cheese for me, at least once a month. Love you both” You yelled quickly as you got further and further up in the air.

Both hedgehogs yelled back to you before you poofed out of existence forever.

“I’ll miss them, it was so sudden,” Sonic whispered and looked at the flower that they had put down when they first got there. They were your favorite kind. The sky was turning gray with a dramatic flare that was only real in sad movies. Just as if on cue it started to rain lightly, then quickly pour. So the two of your partners got up and said their temporary goodbyes to your final resting place and gtfoed.

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itstheghostofmypast · 1 year ago

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Our Little Secret

Sergeant Choi San x (f) Criminal Reader ft.Wooyoung

Summary: Maybe he was not as bright as his superiors made him believe he was, or maybe he was just a fool, or maybe he was just a tool in a much larger game at play. Either way, one thing was for certain, Jung Wooyoung was impressed by a man who had one too many little secrets, some that he was to keep as well.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort Fluff

Warnings: mention of gunshots, mentions of r*pe (heavy stuff), panic attacks, illegal stuff, strong language- (Mc is a perv, sorry not sorry- lowkey San is the same)

Word Count: 7.8k

Read Time: 38 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Banner: @cafekitsune

Rating: mature

A/N: I may have had a little too much fun writing this

Wooyoung hated this part of the job, ever since he had joined the force, he had wanted to do nothing but good, but here he was in the late hours of the night in a mansion that belonged to one of the many corrupt political figures that ruled the land. He had begged Captain Park not to put him on night parole, even insisted on doing all the paperwork for everyone, including the slacker Mingi, but the captain was in no mood for negotiation, instead, he had told him the sergeant would accompany him.

Truth be told, the officer was afraid of the sergeant, he had heard great stories about the man, and the first time the young officer had laid eyes on the mountain of a man, he began to believe the rumours. From his well-built body to his feline mannerism, the way he would walk with an air of pride around him, forcing those around to bow in respect, or fear, either way, it didn’t matter because Wooyoung knew one thing for sure- he wanted to be like Sergeant Choi. Due to this very reason, he had agreed to attend this nuisance of an event, a masquerade ball for the elite, filled with all activities which would be illegal if one were poor or even middle class. What confused him, however, was why the Sergeant had agreed to conduct this trivial task. Captain Park had mentioned how he had volunteered himself, even bringing the blueprints of the mansion and the surrounding gardens, speaking with the security teams at the place of function as well- trivial tasks that are often left to juniors like Wooyoung, so why was his superior doing all these things himself?

“Officer Jung, do you copy?”

The static voice rang in his ear, yes, they were given the state-of-the-art technology just for this freak show, the budget the Department of Defence was given had their captain shaking in his boots, which would explain why he was hell-bent on using every penny to the most ‘professional’ manner.

“Yes, Sergeant, loud and clear.”

“Good, the east wing is clear, I’m leaving the man ballroom now.”

“West wing is clear too, Sir.”

“Heading North, to the main gate. Keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.”

“Heading to the greenhouse at the back Sir.”

With that Wooyoung slowly started to walk down the stairs and out into the open, taking a deep breath, the crisp, chill of the night prickling against his warm skin, a shiver running down his spine, he thanked heaven that they were allowed to wear civilian clothes, San had insisted that it would be safer for them and the visitors this way. Ironically, he had chosen to wear a leather jacket, much like his superior, guess he had his boss somewhat figured out at such a quick pace- he really was smart, wasn’t he? Pulling the leather jacket closer to his form, he looked around the luxurious lawn, it was indeed pretty, with a variety of trees and flowers that one would only see in books or the internet, most of the species were not even native, but then again, then again, certain laws of physics or nature do not apply to the rich.

He was glad it was quiet though, a few more hours and this shit show would be finished by midnight, which meant he could go home in peace, and possibly expect some form of praise in the morning from his superiors. Speaking of superiors, he didn’t know much about the Sergeant, only that he was cold and ruthless, and incredibly gifted in the department of looks- apparently was smart too, and that he had a blackbelt- okay so maybe Wooyoung did know a lot about him, but it was all so textbook. He had no personal details on the man, only one thing, that he was married- but that was because of his wedding band that he saw the Sergeant wear in a makeshift necklace. The wedding band wasn’t even on his finger, and the only way he had seen the necklace was when the man had taken off his jacket, the ring toppled onto his shirt, earning a low groan from the man, though Wooyoung’s eyes quickly scanned the item, a simple silver band, hanging from a silver chain. He watched his superior gently tuck it back into his shirt, pressing it against himself for a quick second before sighing, as if he was afraid, he had almost lost it. That was the only glimpse Officer Jung had gotten of his superior that was not consistent with the rumours of his ruthless stature.

Opening the door to the greenhouse he stepped in, the strong scent of herbs hitting his nostrils, making his nose itch. Clicking his tongue in disapproval, he walked down the isle of potted parsley and mint, looking around for anything suspicious, not that there would be anything there. Or so he thought, for the moment he stood at the heart of the glass building, looking around with his hand on his hips, and he heard a little chime- a cat? No, this place was locked and he made sure to close the door behind him, he was sure of it, which is why he was about to dismiss the noise until he heard it again.

Slowly making his way to the source of the sound, he reached for his gun, being as quiet as possible, spotting a silhouette near the roses, and pointing his gun at the intruder he cleared his throat before ordering;

“Freeze! Raise your hands and turn around slowly.”

He was ready, he was oh so ready to prove to his superiors that he was well deserving of that promotion, he was ready to take down this- woman? He was not ready for this, visibly swallowing at the sight before him he tried to not look at anything but the kitsune mask of the woman.

“Miss, are you here by accident or…”

“Oh, honey if you think only men are criminals, then you are part of the problem.” her red lips stretched into a cocky smile, shifting as she leaned against the stand, the slit of her red satin dress shifting, showing a bit more leg than what Wooyoung would consider modest, though his glance served to be more useful than perverted, the silly little shiny pistol hooked to her black net garter caught his eye, the ribbons of the material gripping onto the gun.

“Eyes up here sweetie, my husband wouldn’t appreciate other men ogling at me like this.”

“Cut the crap,” spitting he aimed at her, “Take off the mask and get down on your knees.”

“Kinky.” Was all she said before something smacked against Wooyoung’s hand like a sharp slap, stinging his wrist his gun fell to the ground as he groaned, glaring up at the smirking woman who winked at him, finally noticing the black leather whip in her hand- did they even make whips this long?

He was about to reach for his gun on the ground before it was kicked away, her heel pressing against the back of his hand, “You’re cute, I’ll give you that, but I don’t have much time, cutie.”

Wooyoung was about to tackle her, only for her to smack him across the face with the back of her hand, the rings on her fingers stinging like hell as she made a run for it, laughing like a mad woman, her chuckles echoing across the greenhouse. Growling in frustration he grabbed his gun and ran after her, he knew he couldn’t shoot around like a madman, one shot would be enough, but the leg? No, she’d bleed out. The shoulder? He was hot on her tail, the red dress hard to miss, along with the sound of the bells hanging off the tussles of her mask, his fingers just grazed her dress before she took a sharp right.

“Shit” following after he stumbled behind the shelf, only to stop at the sight before him. The woman was pinned to the ground, her wrists pinned above her head, San’s grip tight as he watched her struggle under him. “She has…a gun” Panting Wooyoung pointed at the now fully exposed leg, her dress had bunched up against her waist as the Sergeant’s lower half kept her legs apart, his free hand reaching for the gun, though Wooyoung could swear his boss was taking his sweet time, he could swear his boss was caressing the woman’s leg, somewhat toying with the garter before ripping it off her, earning a squeak from her followed by a whine.

“Enough.” His voice boomed, gripping her face he squished her cheeks hard, staring down at her, as she instantly stilled, looking up at him, not moving an inch. It was as if she was wired to his command- to have authority such as Sergeant Choi’s would be a dream come true for Wooyoung.

“Did you grab the kitty’s tail?”

“The what?”

“The whip Officer Jung, she calls it the kitty’s tail- you didn’t read the report last week, did you?”

“I umm- I’ll go get it, sir.” With that he ran back to the original scene of the crime, acquiring the whip that she had dropped on the way, probably while running away from him. When he had come back, San was locking her handcuffs, his rough movements causing her to wince, but when he tightened it against her wrist, she whimpered- and that is when he saw his superior freeze for a second, and if it were not for his cunning fox-like observation skills, he would’ve missed how San’s eyes had softened, his hand that was on the cuff loosened its grip, “Let’s go.” That was all he said before leading the two out the back entrance, claiming that the event was already over anyway and that they had to report to no one about their departure.

He glanced back at the woman in handcuffs, chin in palm as she admired the view outside. It was now that he got a good look at her, with her mask in her lap, she was beautiful, no, the word beautiful did not do her justice, so why was a woman as pretty as her involved in something as ugly as this? Wooyoung frowned when San took the turn to exit, unsure of what his superior was doing

"Sergeant Choi, I think you took a wrong-"he was cut off, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror, the lady still sitting in the same position, but her question caught him extremely off guard.

"Sannie, will you be home for dinner tonight? "

Did she just call him Sannie? Though San remained as nonchalant as well, "I didn't Wooyoung, don't worry." he answered only his junior ignoring the woman, this was the first time he had addressed Wooyoung by his name, what exactly was going on? Glancing at the side view mirror, San raised an eyebrow at her, she was sitting right behind the driver's seat, his seat, watching her pout and look at him through the reflection. A small whine made its way through the silent car.

"Come on Sannie~ you can't gimme the silent treatment forever?"

"Detective Jung?" his tone extremely authoritative and hard, earning a flinch from his junior, though the lady behind him just shivered, with something other than fear.

"S-sir its officer, the detective exam’s results aren’t out yet”

“You’ve passed Wooyoung.” He sighed, gripping onto the wheel a bit harder, as he pressed on the gas.

“Sir I- how, how do you know that?” he should have just been happy at the knowledge of his new title, but curiosity always got the better of this foxie, always wanting to know the answer behind the whys and the hows.

“I checked the exams- why do you think Seonghwa sent you with me tonight? They don’t send just anyone with me to such a high-profile case?”

“N-no Sir I-

Once again, he was cut off by a bratty whine, only this time she leaned forward, shifting so she was in between the two seats, her upper body leaning against the gearbox, turning to look at the Sergeant who did not glance away from the road;

“Sannie~ It’s been a week, this isn’t fair.”

"Wooyoung, open the glove compartment, there's a roll of tape there." he gestured to the glove compartment, "Tape her mouth shut for me, would ya."

"Sir!?"

"Sannie~ wait, hear me out-eep" she yelped almost as loud as the screech of the brakes, falling back as her back hit the leather with a thump, Wooyoung's own heart made its way to his mouth, ready to jump out in fear.

"Wooyoung. Tape. Her. Mouth."

As his junior fumbled with the glove compartment the Sergeant parked the car in a secluded area off the road, getting off and slamming the door shut. Wooyoung gulped as he noticed his superior’s body language, he had never seen him like this, what was he going to do with her? Should he save the woman? Were the rumours about him being a ruthless killer of ‘criminals’ going to be proven true after what he was going to do to this woman? Swinging open the car door from her side he pulled her out by her wrist, noting how she winced and looked up at him, "Sannie…you're hurting me." This caused his grip to loosen, though not enough to let go, not that she had any plans of escaping, his cold hard glare was enough to have her rooted at the spot, fumbling with her words- extremely out of character.

He had had enough of this, tonight was too close to be just a risk, she was lucky he was there, there was no way Seonghwa would let her go, and if this was some kind of sick trick to get his attention, he wasn’t interested in it, nor was he going to entertain it.

"San, I swear I was wearing my mask I-"

Her words were cut off by the sudden pressure of his lips, his body pressed flush against hers, pressing it against the car door. Her cuffed hands gripped onto his jacket and pulled him ever closer as his hand at the base of her neck gave her a little squeeze as if warning her to not test him, though a muffled giggle broke past her lips as he slowly parted, the hand on her waist pressing into her. She didn’t care about how rough he was being or how he wasn’t even crouching down properly to meet her halfway, having her stand on her toes just to feel him close, she didn’t care because at least he was giving it to her now, his attention. With their foreheads pressed together, he gazed down at her gentle features portraying nothing but innocence- false innocence, but the sincerity in her eyes was what always had his knees buckling. The sincerity of love that she had for him, letting him catch her every time, letting him into her world, into her life- truth be told it wasn't her who fell into his trap, but it was him who was wrapped around her pinkie.

Wooyoung cleared his throat, "Ummm…" Extremely baffled by what had just broken out, he had not just seen his superior fully make out with a criminal- was this legal? Well, technically no- wait was this harassment? Or no, she did call him Sannie, did they know each other?

With a slight chuckle, she stood on the tip of her toes to peck her lover's cheek, "Didn't know you were into that stuff…the audience turning you on huh, never knew my husband was so kinky?"

In an instant the tape was snatched from Wooyoung's hand and smacked across her pretty red lips as she stared at him wide-eyed, a bit confused, a bit scared, but oh so in love.

"Be a good little wife and stay quiet, no need to traumatise my junior even more than you already have."

With that he forced her back inside the car and went to sit on his seat, leaving a sweaty-palmed Wooyoung standing there in complete, utter shock - possibly turned on too- wait- WIFE? Suddenly her statement about her husband rang in his ears, she had mentioned a husband before- was he? Was this man an enemy of the law or a loyal servant of the law? Wooyoung stood there grounded, confused about what to do and what had just happened. Perhaps he had stood there a bit too long, clenching and unclenching his sweaty fists but the driver's door opened again, causing him to flinch, unsure if he was about to move to the car or reach for his gun, he wasn't sure but before he could decide his senior opened the backdoor. He watched another scene of confusion unfold before him, San shrugged off his jacket, and crouched down into the car, placing it over her torso, and tucking it around her upper body, "There, now you're all warm."

Wooyoung was dead sure he heard San chuckle, but the muffled whining was louder. Standing up straight he closed the car door and turned to look at Wooyoung, his white T-shirt clinging onto his well-built frame, the ring in his necklace glimmering under the streetlight. Just who was this man?

"Wooyoung, if you aren't comfortable with this I-"

Huffing the junior stomped to the other side of the car, slamming the door shut. Shaking his head in defeat San let out an airy chuckle, staring up at the stars, "Man, I just attract brats, I'm sure of it."

"You know…this is illegal right?"

They had been driving in silence for almost thirty minutes before Wooyoung had decided to slice the tension. What bothered him more was how it was only he who could feel this tension, the lady at the back was literally snoring away in wonderland and his boss was driving with one hand on the wheel, the other was resting on the armrest, casually drumming against the material.

"Hmmm? What is?"

"This. She's a criminal! We literally caught her-"

"Doing what? Looking at flowers? In a mask? It was a masquerade ball, Detective." he sighed, already using the new title for his junior, who hissed in disapproval, who was this man, where was the man of great stature and moral value that he looked up to since his trainee days.

"You know what I mean, you're becoming an accomplice to a crime and-"

"Then report me Wooyoung." he slammed the brakes, causing the younger one to squeak, holding onto the handle, thanking God that he was wearing a seatbelt, his eyes wide with fear as he looked at his superior staring dead ahead as he mumbled, "Report me if you must, but I'd be damned if any of you try to lay a finger on her again."

"Again? What do you mean-"

Once again, he was left hanging as the man got out of the car slamming his door shut, the entire car swaying in the process. He turned to look at him again when the back door opened, though he noticed the way the woman shook her head and scooted away from him, causing him to sigh, he looked so…defeated. Was she scared of him? Wooyoung's eyes flickered to the woman, his profiler skills on overdrive, what if he read it wrong, what if he was supposed to save this woman from the sergeant? He noted the way her eyes had watered, tears threatening to slip at any given moment, waiting for the last push- he still wasn't sure about their dynamics, what if none of this was consensual? She kept on pulling back until her back pressed against the door, legs pulled closer to her chest as she shook her head, heavy tears dripping down her cheeks, her mascara running like a stream, her entire form shaking, her sobs muffled by the tape- this was not the woman who had smacked him across the face, this was not the woman who had stomped her heel on his hand, this was but a mere broken, scared little girl.

"Sir-" For the third time tonight Wooyoung had reached for his gun, ready to shoot anyone who he thought was suspicious at this point.

"I won't go…I promise I won’t, he explained it to me and I- f*ck I'm so sorry, I'm sorry." His head hung in disappointment, eyes not even meeting hers, palms pressing on the seat, “I’m staying, I swear I won’t leave again.” He whispered reaching for her once more, his hand resting on her ankle, thumb stroking the skin, Wooyoung noticed the way she visibly relaxed a bit, manoeuvring to let him pull her out, he reached for her cuffed hands, pulling them over his head, their faces inches away from each other as he gave her a gentle, dimpled smile- that was new. What he did not expect was for San to completely ignore him, as the Sergeant pulled out his wife in one swift motion, holding onto her bridal style as her muffled squeak echoed across the empty street, followed by his laugh.

He kicked the door open, smiling at the little meow that resonated across the empty hallway, coming to greet her parents, she had indeed spent a week with her distressed mother and in the absence of her father, especially after witnessing the two in a full-blown argument, must have scared the little fur ball.

“Byeol, didn’t I tell you to watch mommy, while I was away?” he called out to the cat that walked beside him, making sure to rub against his leg as he slowly sat her down on the couch, reaching to scratch his baby’s head, only to stop when she gently tugged at the ends of his hair, before her fingers slowly caressed the nape of his neck, arms still looped around his shoulders. He glanced up at her sheepishly, smiling at her, “Sorry, forgot about that,” reaching up he reached for the tape, “I’ll go slow, okay?” nodding at him she looked at him determined, and ready. He did it slowly, making sure he caused minimal pain, and glad he kept the paper tape in the car, usually for their little activities, any other tape would’ve hurt more.

Sighing she licked her dry lips, looking down at her lover, “Won’t you kiss me?” she whispered before turning her head to look at the newcomer, as soon as Byeol hissed, “Nevermind, officer cramped-undies is here, he’s allergic to love.” she mumbled, glaring at Wooyoung who was glaring back at her with the same intensity.

Shaking his head at the two San pulled her arms over his head, undoing her cuffs, and tossing them away somewhere, the clinking of the metal attracting the cat that went running across the room to it. Grabbing her right hand he hummed, gently applying pressure, taking in her reaction, “Sorry, didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay, Sannie.” She smiled, placing her left hand over his, “I’ve been through worse.” Wooyoung noticed the way he froze at her words, his smile turning into a deep frown, glaring at the ground for a split second before shaking his head, and looking up at her with a gentle smile, “I’ll be back.” With that he stood up, gesturing to Wooyoung to follow him as the two made their way into the kitchen, that was across the hall. Wooyoung stood next to the marble island in the centre of the dark kitchen, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket, watching his superior rummage through the cabinets mumbling stuff, “Ah…I told her not to change the place…tsk…this woman never listens to me…where are you…hah! Gotcha.” Like a cat filled with pride and glee after catching a mouse, he turned around with shining eyes, only to pause when he realised it was not his wife, he had turned to but his junior who wore an extremely sour expression, with the whole blank eyes and deep frown, the complete look.

Clearing his throat San looked at him, nodding as if he were grateful to his junior for not reporting him- yet. Wooyoung raised an eyebrow before pulling up the Kitsune Mask, “Care to explain?” his voice held a certain edge to it, more importantly, San knew that wasn’t a question, but an order- wow, he really did attract brats.

“I…” sighing in defeat he nodded, before gesturing to his face, “Apply this, it’ll stop the bruising, just let me patch her up first and…try to get along with her, she’s just been on edge today.” He mumbled walking out of the kitchen after placing a tube of ointment on the counter beside Wooyoung, who scoffed, she was his wife, not Wooyoung’s so why was he supposed to bear her tantrums?

San walked into the living room where she was trying to undo the strings of her heels with one hand, grumbling at the way she had tightened the knots. Placing the medicine box beside her on the couch, he gently pulled away her hand, mumbling a ‘let me’ before his nimble fingers began to work on the knots and strings, “Running in heels is dangerous.” He concluded, taking off her heels and placing them beside him, his baby girl had expensive taste, that was for sure, much like her psychotic brother- biology be damned.

“Are you going to be in trouble Sannie?” she asked, eying Wooyoung who had sat across the three-seater on the opposite loveseat, watching the scene unfold with a blank stare, honestly at this point, he was somewhat intrigued by the way his boss was swooning over his wife, the delicate intimacy making him a bit jealous due to the lack of a partner in his life. Morally, he wasn’t sure where he stood anymore, but this was a side of the Sergeant he had been dying to see, so who was he to deny the favour God had bestowed upon him?

“I don’t think so,” he muttered, opening the box to pull out her makeup wipes, he pulled one out, reaching for her face with his other hand, cupping her cheek, eyes instinctively closing, "But I swear you're in so much trouble." His warning had her eyes snapping open with a pout, though he clicked his tongue and grunted, "Hold still, close your eyes." But she grabbed his hand, staring at it, before meeting his eyes, "Your…ring…You took it off- I- did I- You- I mean we-" her breath hitched, another wave of nausea hit her, the all too familiar ringing in her ears resurfacing. "Hey- no, no, no love, look at me." He gently patted her cheek with the wet tissue, the hand she was holding onto rubbed soothing circles on her thigh, "I didn't remove it, just wore it here" Pulling back he plucked out the necklace from under his shirt, "See, " holding the chain up for her to see, the ring dangling off it, "Just kept it hidden, to keep you safe, okay? You're okay, I'm okay….we're okay." he whispered back, bringing her hand to his lips to press a gentle kiss to her palm, watching her sniffle, "Now, close your eyes, no more crying, or I swear I'll cry", waiting for her to follow instructions, glad when she did, with that, he gently began to clean up the streaks of mascara and residue of her makeup, hand working like clockwork, impressing Wooyoung, much like how he had handled her panic attack- what exactly was going on here, how did San know what to do? Had he perhaps done this before? Why did the sight before him make him feel like he was intruding on something personal, should he leave?

"Wooyoung?" his mental debate came to a halt when his superior called him, looking at his broad back, his face still turned to his wife, smiling up at her, as she looked down at him. She was…beautiful- no, she was charming, her freshly cleaned skin radiating with an alluring glow, almost inviting- was she a siren?

"Wooyoung, if you're done staring at my wife like a perverted teenager-"

"Sannie" she stopped him, as soon as she noticed how the younger one was blushing, clearing his throat as he looked everywhere but at the couple.

"I.I wasn't Sir- I-"

"The ointment." was all San, craning his neck to glare at the man, his eyes cold and hard, swirling with jealousy- possessive huh?

"Yes, sorry, here." scurrying over to the couch he placed it in San's open palm, pausing to glance at his wife- wanting to get a closer look at what may have been his first and only interaction with an angel. Sergeant Choi did strike a deal with lady luck on this one, her features were not only soft and delicate, much like her gentle gaze, especially how she was staring down at her husband with endearment that had him almost vomiting, but her overall persona had changed, not like the devious little being he had encountered at the greenhouse.

"There." Pulling on a cute bow he looked up at her with a smile, "Go change, dinners on me tonight." Standing up straight he side-eyed Wooyoung who stumbled back at the sudden proximity of the taller man, he didn't realise he was standing so close to the two. Cupping her face his thumbs caressed the swollen area of her undereye, her eyes closing at the gesture, nodding when we whispered gently "Go."

With that she was gone, leaving the two men alone, Wooyoung standing there looking somewhat guilty- even though he wasn't part of any of the crimes committed tonight.

"Come on, you want chicken flavour or cheese-flavoured ramen?" San asked, calling him over his shoulder earning a sound of disapproval from his junior, "What?"

"You're going to feed your wife instant ramen?"

"I was going to feed you too, but if you'd rather be ungrateful then who am I to force you."

"Sir?"

"What?"

"Let me cook. Please."

That's how Choi San found himself sitting at the barstool at the kitchen island, somewhat glad how big it was, his wife was right, the bigger the better- for kitchen appliances, mind you. On the opposite end of the countertop, Wooyoung was silently chopping vegetables, done with carrots, green onions and now the cabbage, this couple ate well, and had good taste in produce as well- Wow Jung Wooyoung, so much for begging God to let you know more about your boss, should've asked for something else instead, like a million bucks or something.

San admired the way the younger man was working, he knew Wooyoung was a hard worker, but his skill and expertise amazed him, also made him realise he attracted brats, but those brats knew how to cook.

"Who is she?" Wooyoung asked, sliding the diced cabbage into the strainer, "What are you involved in please tell me now, I'm at the ripe age of my youth so I can jump careers unlike you-"

"I'm literally only three years older than you."

"My point exactly."

Shaking his head in disbelief San signed, resting his chin on his palm, "You really are something else, huh?"

"I've been called worse, Sir."

"She's…Kim Hongjoong's sister." he began only to stop when Wooyoung slammed the butcher knife onto the board, "THE KIM HONGJOONG? HEAD OF MATZ? THE SOLAR DRAGON? THE MAN WHO KILLS WITH JUST HIS GAZE??? THE SAME MAN YOU ARRESTED- how- HOW DID YOU GET HIS SISTER TO MARRY YOU?" His shrilly voice echoed around the kitchen as San rubbed his temples, God was testing him today.

"First of all, yes, not biological, the two grew up at the same orphanage and secondly, I did arrest him but no one knows she's his self-proclaimed sister- well, other than Seonghwa" he mumbled, pulling off his necklace and staring at the ring, "I remember being like you, believing in the system, believing in the goodness of people, that those who are innocent are never wronged- I was a fool, this entire system is whack and for some reason, fate decided to send me a stray that was abused enough to convince me about how wrong I was."

Wooyoung watched him in silence, placing the dirty dishes in the sink as he turned on the electric stove, "I… see." was all he said, waiting for the water to boil, "Do you have garlic paste?"

"In the fridge, I think." San pointed at the fridge before sighing, "How much do you know about Hongjoong's mission?"

Opening the fridge the man stared at the neatly stacked containers of food, all untouched, if San didn't come home for a week, why was there so much food there? Was she…waiting for him? Making him dinner every night? The knot in his stomach twisted a bit too tight as he sighed, closing the fridge, “You were undercover for a year, by the end of it, you captured the Matz leader and most of the gang."

"Did you know Kim Hongjoong came to me himself?"

"What?"

"Exactly," exhaling he pulled the ring out of the chain, slipping it back on his finger, all snug, where it belonged, "I started the mission as an undercover agent. I was part of an underground fight club, one of the many Hongjoong owns- Django." he nodded to Wooyoung who was adding strips of meat to the bowling broth, "It was fine, the usual bullshit, took me a few months to even get recognition, but one thing was for sure, everyone feared Hongjoong, everyone but one person- his advisor."

"And… that was her?" he asked, deciding to take out the side dishes she had packed away in the fridge.

"Yeah…" Reaching for the mask he admired the details, memories flooding back, "We never saw her face, this mask was who she was, she was quick and agile as a cat, but Hongjoong's favourite. She was also my meal ticket to her brother. After a match I was about to leave when I heard a scuffle, honestly, I was going to leave but the bell" Shaking the mask the bell resonated in the kitchen, and the only other sound present was of the boiling broth, "I knew it was her so I went to check, a few guys had cornered her, I don't know why, maybe she was tired that day, maybe they were physically stronger, but while one held onto her the other reached for her mask and that's when I snapped, all I remember was my hands were bloody and before I knew it I was being taken to meet Hongjoong."

"You saved her?" he asked, as he opened a few cabinets, before looking at San who pointed at the one at the far right, "Plates and bowls are there. Cutlery is in the drawer." With a thankful nod, Wooyoung motioned him to continue.

"Yeah, I did. I was assigned as her bodyguard. I wanted to be Hongjoong's but usually, where you'd find her, you'd find Hongjoong and the other way round." he took a deep breath, “Either way, I realised this little cat burglar was more than just a petty thief, she was his eyes and ears, his map maker, she was Hongjoong’s prized possession. I gained a good number of business details, the only problem was that I also began to learn about her, and how she’d be at school during the day- only a handful of people had seen her face and somehow, I had made it to the list.” Chuckling he placed the mask down, looking at Wooyoung who was busy setting the cutlery, “the first time I had seen her without her mask, I swear I froze up, I never thought I was religious but when I saw her, her gentle eyes to the slope of her nose to her flushed cheeks, I was sure of one thing, God really did make angels and I had just seen one in the flesh.” Wooyoung paused at the statement, only mere minutes ago he had held the same sentiments, but something else got to him too, which he bluntly put forth, “You fell for her?”

“Hard…I fell hard.”

“So …did you like…”

“No” he shook his head, “I was a hot-headed officer on my way to a promotion, like hell, I was going to give in to her, I entertained her fantasies but…never took any advantage of her, she made it difficult though,” he chuckled before sighing when Wooyoung sat down across him, plating the dishes, “I was at the precinct one-night when Hongjoong came over, offered a deal, he said, and I quote;

‘Congrats f*cker, you have my sister wrapped around your finger and she won’t let me make an example out of you, so I come with a deal, take me in- but remove her from all your papers, she never existed- ya got me?’

I didn’t think Seonghwa would agree, but even Sergeant Park Seonghwa was looking for a promotion, so we agreed, The next day we raided the HQ and got a good chunk of their top men, including Hongjoong and she was nowhere near in sight.”

“So you married her after?” Wooyoung asked, placing a bowl of rice in front of San who shook his head.

“No, I hated her, I felt like it was wrong, even if she wasn’t directly involved, she was being protected by the law. But who was I to argue? I remember, a few weeks later she came to see me at the precinct, I remember ignoring her and walking out, she literally followed after me, told me she was going to start on a clean slate, and that she could change for me.” He sighed, staring at his soup, cabbage soup, wow, maybe he should invite Wooyoung over more, “I feel like that was my fault because the very moment I told her that the sight of her disgusted me, every inch of my being hated her- she looked…so scared that night like she had lost her purpose.”

Frowning at him Wooyoung mumbled, “But…she wanted to change!”

“I know, I was a d*ck, I was arrogant, the youngest detective in the precinct, the golden boy, and she did change, went to school regularly, got her degree, hell she even got a decent job- she approached me again after that,” he sighed, before reaching to grab her plate, adding a good portion of rice and meat.

“Did you…you know, accept it?” Wooyoung asked before stuffing his face with the kimchi his wife had prepared for him, man an angel that can cook.

“No.” placing her plate down San glanced at the clock, she was gone for almost 40 minutes, must’ve been in the tub, “Worse, I led her to the worst night of her life, I broke her. We met at a club, by accident of course, I never went to clubs anyway, but when I got promoted to Sergeant, Seonghwa was simultaneously promoted to Captain, and they took us to celebrate. I met her there, she was out with some friends- she approached me, sweet as ever, though I bit back, told her to get lost, that I wouldn’t even care if she even disappeared off the planet.”

Wooyoung visibly winced at the choice of words, truly amazed by the harshness of his superior, especially after witnessing the love he had for his wife, waiting for him to continue.

“I lost her that night, only saw her getting in a cab with her friends, saw the guys too- honestly I thought to myself that night ‘so much for I love you San’. But that was my fault, I should’ve noticed how her eyes were clouded, I should’ve seen how her so-called friends were carrying her stumbling form, how they were handling her, how the guys were touching her.” He paused before letting out a shaky breath, “The next morning I remember reading an online article about another horrendous case, only this time, I knew the victim. I went to Seonghwa, the first thing I could do but he had beaten me to it, he had taken the case to the superiors who had shut it down, you know why?” he asked Wooyoung.

“Because it involved rich kids?”

“Not just any rich kids, Minister Lee’s useless son and his friends- honestly, I was more horrified by the fact that the girls were in on it, the case was closed before it even reached court. I couldn’t let it go though, I tried to contact her, but she wouldn’t even let me see her at the hospital, the nurses told me to leave and when I pushed my way through…I saw not my angel in her glory, but someone whose wings were ripped off- the way she looked at me that day, it’s like she could see through me, with the same disgust I showed to her for several years.”

“What did you do?”

“The only thing I could do, I went to Hongjoong.”

“Did he…”

“Beat me up? Yeah, the man runs the prison too, and I was foolish enough to tell him that I had met with his sister before the crime, and while he was busy breaking my fingers he asked me this one question, ‘Who does your system serve? A rich kid with STDs or a civilian girl trying to rebuild her life?’ I know that was all it took for me, for Seonghwa, that’s when we realised this is more than just some way of life, no, we were wearing the badges of honour, but we were on the wrong side.”

“Then?”

“I don’t know, he beat me up so bad I was knocked out when I woke up, I remember Seonghwa standing by my hospital bed, asking me, ‘Do you want to do the right thing?’ and I said yes. The next thing I knew as soon as I could walk again, I was at her apartment, she didn’t let me in though, but I never stopped, I’d go there each night, sit outside her door, listening to her cry at the other end. One day though, when I was about to ring the doorbell she opened the door, looked up at me, and asked me, why I’d come every night and honestly the only explanation I had was, that if there was one person, I’d give up everything for, it would be her.”

Sighing he chugged down a glass of cold water, “Things were…okay, Seonghwa and I became part of the crew, unofficially of course, we still did our jobs, she still went to work, we bought an apartment together, lived together, did everything’s couples would do. One night she asked me if I’d still love her if she took back what they took from her, she wanted to burn out the fire and there was only one way…”

“What did you…say?”

“I said I’d protect her either way.”

“So…his son didn’t technically…”

“No, he didn’t decide to end his life, she did.” He shrugged, “Who was I to stop her, I am merely her husband and her bodyguard.”

“Wait.” Wooyoung cleared his throat, “So…why did you two…I mean- what- this entire week? Why’d you fight?”

“Oh- that!” shaking his head San sighed, “Obviously Hongjoong wasn’t done with his act of vengeance, I told him it was stupid and reckless and rejected the idea, it's been years and we needed her to not think about it anymore. Though I was supposed to assign two officers for tonight’s duty, and then last week my maps were missing, I suspected it was her, that she gave them to her brother and we fought…she was angry, I was scared of losing her again and well things escalated- I didn’t believe her, until last night, that’s why I removed Officer Song as your partner for tonight, even if Hongjoong wasn’t involved, I didn’t want to risk any chances of her being there- I knew she stopped after she took his son’s life, but knowing how the two crave for blood of the rich, I needed to be sure I’d keep her out of any danger”

“Sannie!” she called out, the padding of her bear feet echoed across the floor as she came running into the kitchen, both men turning to look at her, though Wooyoung instantly looked away, clearing his throat and San sighed, “Where are your pants?”

“Pants?” tilting her head, a bit confused she looked down at her usual sleepwear, his shirt, it was big enough, covered her till her thighs, plus she was wearing her undies, “Forget that- look, did you know Joong’s gonna come visit us tomorrow?”

Choking on his spit, Wooyoung turned to stare at her wide-eyed, what did she just say?

“What???”

“Kitten, what are you saying,” gesturing for her to come closer, she sat down beside San, eying the food before showing San the food, “Apparently Minister Lee’s house caught fire- crisp like burnt chicken I hear,” she giggled before turning to smile at Wooyoung, that smug smile reminding her of a sly cat, “Didn’t know you could cook.”

Forcing a smile Wooyoung muttered, “I can, Mrs.Choi.”

“Thank you for the meal.”

“Anytime.”

“Holy shit…” San sighed, “Seonghwa is gonna have a stroke, I swear- did you- did you do this??” he turned to look at her, sighing and reaching to grab her empty glass and filling it with water as she shook her head, “No, of course not, I told you I didn’t even know the layout of his house.”

“Then what were you doing there?” he asked, finally, the right question Wooyoung thought to himself.

“Because I knew you’d be there.”

San felt like his heart was about to combust, wanting to fall into her palm, letting her squeeze it to her contentment, like a little girl with her favourite teddy bear.

“I knew you’d be there.” She smiled, leaning closer to grab his hand and admire the wedding band, right where it belonged, right where they belonged. Wooyoung could only smile in disgust, this act of pure, blind passion making him envious.

“Oh, he did text me though.”

The two men looked at her, waiting for her to speak up, but like any persistent, stubborn feline she had them wait, only continued when San poked her side, earning a giggle, “He said he wants to meet Offic- sorry- Detective Jung. Seonghwa approved of him too.”

“WHAT?” Wooyoung shrieked in disbelief earning a sigh from San, “Well, welcome to the team brat.”

“WAIT NO! I”

She giggled leaning over the table to smile at him, San’s arm instinctively wrapping around her frame, pulling her into him, “It can be our little secret~”

Taglist: @edenesth @mlysalt @spooo00oky @cereal-simp @yessa-vie @marsvillee

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vikkirosko · 1 year ago

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HI HII! I've seen you write for Adam from HH and I was wondering if it's okay to ask for both platonic and romantic HCs of him with a fem!sinner!reader who works at the Hazbin Hotel? How they met, how the hell did Adam finally end up being able to tolerate a sinner is up to you!

🎸 Adam x sinner fem!Reader headcanons Cutie among sinners ✨️

Adam descended into Hell only once a year, on the day of the extermination. He despised sinners. They were to blame for what they did when they were alive. However, during one of their exterminations, he found you. You were a sinner, one of the many who were in Hell, but something about you seemed sweet to him. You had a sweet face and overall, if you forget that you were a sinner, you were quite pretty. That was the only reason Adam spared you. He was in a good mood and pretended that he didn't notice you, even though it looked to you like he was just ignoring you. However, when the angels left Hell, you found a strange device that you decided to keep with you. You didn't even realize that Adam planted this thing

You didn't meet Adam again entirely of your own free will. You came to your hotel room to relax after a day full of work, but as soon as you closed the door and turned on the light, an unfamiliar voice rang out saying that he was already tired of waiting. It was Adam, or rather his hologram. You got scared and threw the first thing that came to your hand at him, which only made him laugh. You didn't understand how Adam ended up in your room, and he was in no hurry to say that you yourself brought a device that allowed him to communicate with you. But he was very surprised to see you wearing a uniform similar to the one worn by Princess of Hell

You were rarely in your room, but every time Adam wouldn't let you rest. He asked you questions, made fun of you and did not understand why you believed that you could atone for your sins, because you were already in Hell, you were already too late to worry about saving your soul. You seemed to believe in the idea of a princess. At some point, you got so used to Adam's constant company that you did your business in the room, answering some of his questions. Watching you, Adam became more and more convinced that he liked you. He forgot that you were a sinner and tried to touch you several times, but each time his hand went through yours, and at that moment he remembered that you were in Hell and he was in Heaven

When Charlie went to Heaven to negotiate, Adam was forced to listen to her words about the hotel again. He was able to see you among the other residents of the hotel. You were smiling, smiling sincerely at your friends. At that moment, Adam thought it would be great if you could atone for your sins and get to Heaven, where you could communicate normally. He really wanted to get to know you much better. He liked you, even though Adam didn't admit it even to himself

There was very little time left before the new extermination, and Adam understood that you would also fight against the angels. That's why he contacted you again. He told you to leave the hotel. He didn't want you to die, but he didn't say so directly. Adam didn't know if you were really going to leave, but he hoped you wouldn't die. That's all he could really hope for in your situation

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel headcanons #Adam #Adam x Reader

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daughterofheartshaven · 1 month ago

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A quick Timeline of Romana

I was rebloging something by a mutual and I realized that I have a very specific order of Romana's different stories in different mediums in my head and that might actually be relevant to share here given how many of my mutuals are Romana fans. As usual, I assume Last Great Time War is the same as The War In Heaven. So here we go. I'm starting with Romana's return from E-Space. Anything in bullet points is a headcanon I made to reconcile different stories

Blood Harvest / Goth Opera: Romana II returns from E-Space and takes a place on the Gallifreyan High Council

The Chaos Pool: takes place while Romana is on the High Council, but before her Acencion to Presidency

Happy Endings: Romana becomes President

The Apocalypse Element: Romana's Presidency is interrupted by the Etra Prime incident and the disaster that followed

Neverland / Zagreus: Romana meets Leela, and is forced to watch the Doctor remove himself from the universe

Lungbarrow: Romana has a run-in with a Doctor from the past, from before he left the universe, and has to be very carful to avoid letting either the Doctor or the CIA know that she knows the Doctor's future

The Gallifrey Series (and a couple misc. audios that have Romana II as president): Lots of things happen, but the big one is that the Time War starts

following the end of the Gallifrey series, Romana escapes the Time War and flees into Gallifrey's past at the cost of her current incarnation's life. Now in her third incarnation, she Spearheads the Nine Gallifreys project to give herself a different Gallifrey to work with - avoiding a paradox - and begins preparing her Gallifrey for the war she knows is coming

Luna Romana framing narrative: Romana III prepping her Gallifrey for war

The Shadows of Avalon / The Ancestor Cell: Romana comes into conflict with the Doctor (still from before he left the universe), and her plans end in disaster as her Gallifrey is destroyed before it can even reach the war

The Gallifrey Chronicles: The Doctor is implied to resurrect Romana and the other citizens of her Gallifrey

Now that she has lost any chance she had at making a difference in Gallifrey's stand in the War, Romana flees Gallifrey and reconnects with the Tharils before the war starts.

The Little Book of Fate: Romana, now running refugee support from the Time War, meets the Doctor from before they came into conflict (and before he left the universe). They are able to work together, but Romana still has to conceal all she knows about his future.

Romana eventually gives up on Gallifrey and the Time War and, with her third body dying, flees to the end of the universe (much like the Master did, but without a chameleon arch).

Tomb of Valdemar framing narrative: Romana III dies at the end of the universe and we meet her fourth incarnation - a dark skinned woman

Gallifrey returns and Romana finds her way back to it. At some point, she regenerates again into someone with freckles and ginger hair

Cwej: Down the Middle: Romana is implied to be actively trying to help Chris behind the scenes, and appears at the very end to negotiate with him regarding the end of the Cwejen Uprising against Gallifrey

Notes:

Does Romana ever find out that the Doctor returned from the Divergent Universe? It seems likely, but from the Doctor's perspective, Zagreus appears to be the last time they met.

If you want me to elaborate on any of this, I'd be happy to! Just let me know.

#doctor who eu #doctor who expanded universe #dweu #dw eu #big finish #gallifrey #romana #heartshaven's headcanons #romana ii

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imawreck · 15 days ago

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Heaven Scent

Pairing: Vampire!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Returning to a Coven was the last thing Bucky wanted to do. Especially a young one. But when duty calls, and he’s sent out to help eradicate it, he has no choice but to power through the sent of blood and desire to consume even when the sweetest temptation appears to be just within his reach…

Warnings: Mentions of blood, kidnapping, canonic MCU violence, gory detailing, hostages

Word Count: 2,948

“Any luck?” Steve entered the compound, his uniform freshly pressed and boots shined.

Doctor Banner shook his head with a sigh, “None, like always. And I think with the way he’s been acting, Barnes isn’t going to be able to rely on the blood substitutes for much longer. Maybe a month or two.”

Steve blew out a frustrated breath. “Great… we'll have to figure something out soon then. SHIELD won’t keep him around if he becomes more of a danger than an advantage.”

SHIELD was a secret underground government agency sworn to protect the world from supernatural forces and outstanding threats. Steve and his best pal Bucky Barnes, being two of the oldest and most elite agents, had been used as experimental super soldiers during the 40s. He and his best friend, had been on a mission to eradicate a coven of vampires when Sergeant Barnes had been severely injured and turned. Steve had somehow managed to escape only to crash land while flying through fighter jet territory. He’d been lost in the war, having frozen in the ocean for years, only to have been recovered and more than willing to continue his service to the agency.

A few years after his return to the Agency, Steve had discovered that his best pal was still alive and wreaking havoc on a small town just outside of Brooklyn, New York. He set out to hunt him down, but instead of killing Bucky, he managed to break through his bloodlust and convince him to come back to the agency so that Steve could sort something out.

Steve wouldn’t kill him, he couldn’t do such a thing.

So, after months of negotiations and tests to even see if it was possible to control Bucky’s vampiric nature, they had come to the conclusion that Steve would become Bucky’s handler. He would be in charge of execution if Bucky was to go AWOL. He would also be in charge of managing Bucky’s dietary needs and escorting him on missions and lab tests.

Basically, he was Bucky’s designated babysitter and coworker in one.

It had been several years since their return and Bucky’s recovery. He’d lost an arm the night he was turned, and SHIELD had given him an advanced prosthetic and a fresh start. Bucky had trained endlessly to control his thirst for blood. Exposing himself to it, fasting to ensure he could handle the extended periods with no food if needed. Banner had even created a substitute so he wouldn’t have to feel the guilt of carrying around blood bags. He’d been doing well for years, but Doctor Banner had discovered his treatments with blood substitutes were a temporary fix.

Which meant that eventually, Bucky would either relapse or he’d need a Donor. And those weren’t exactly easy to find, or tolerated under SHIELD law.

And SHIELD would much rather kill him than give him any options.

Steve pressed his fingers into his brows, taking another deep breath of frustration. “He’s not going to like this.”

Banner shook his head, “No, he’s really not.”

“Not going to like what?” Bucky’s voice reached them as the glass door opened and shut behind him.

Steve straightened, plastering on a smile. “That we’ve got a mission tonight. 20:00, vampire coven.”

Bucky’s dark brows dropped into a frown, his lips pursing. “Yeah, definitely not a fan.”

“It’s a newer nest, so it shouldn’t have any older or even mature vampires yet.

Shouldn’t be an issue.” Steve knew that Bucky always got a little anxious when they took on vampire covens because of his turning.

That, and they always had blood around. Bucky was significantly more controlled in his actions when it came to blood. Not like when Steve had found him in Brooklyn covered in his latest victims’ blood with wild hungry eyes.

Now, when blood was near, he managed to keep his reaction minimized down to just the black veins under his eyes. It had taken years of practice and effort, but he had managed it. That alone was the only reason keeping him alive under SHIELD’s watchful eyes.

Banner cleared his throat, “Your provisions for dinner are in the fridge, Sergeant.”

Bucky gave Dr. Banner a flat smile. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” He really did, it was just that Bucky despised being what he was. Needing what he did. He missed being human.

Now, he was viewed as a bloodthirsty monster. He supposed he once was, and those memories burned him every time he thought of that time.

Bucky went over to the fridge and discreetly stuffed the blood substitutes into one of the various pockets on his utility belt and gave Steve a nod, “Gonna stock the weapons and check the jet inventory for the mission.”

Steve nodded, “Alright, Buck. See you soon.”

With that, Bucky quickly exited the lab.

Steve signed, turning back to Banner. “Increase the substitute stock. If what you say is true, he’ll need more than normal until we come up with another option. Get another order on those scent blockers too.”

“Sure thing, Cap.” Banner went back to his computer and Steve headed out the doors.

Steve had this gut feeling that life was going to get way more complicated soon.

—————

The stealth jet touched down just outside of the mission red zone, and Bucky and Steve finalized their plans for infiltration.

“Alright, so you’ll go in the west entrance and take out the guards. They won’t put up much of a fight, coven’s not that big.” Steve pointed to the blueprints of the old warehouse as he spoke, popping a scent neutralizer into his mouth.

Bucky nodded, strapping the muzzle cover he was required to wear outside the compound onto his face as he listened. They would more than likely have victims in the building. Being a young coven, they were more bloodthirsty and less likely to keep hostages because of their lack of control. That meant it would be a bloodbath, and it put Bucky on edge. He could smell the faint scent of blood in the air even from inside the jet.

The familiar telltale feeling of the veins crawling under his eyes washed over him. The black veins rushed under the skin and reddened his vision just the slightest. There was lots of blood outside.

“Gonna be good, Buck?”

Steve’s question drew his gaze, and Bucky nodded silently. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Alright,” a few clips and zips later, and Steve was geared up and ready to go. “Let’s get this taken care of.”

Bucky followed him out and onto the dampened grass. Fog hovered just over the ground and plumed up into the air, clouding their vision a good six feet in front of them. With his heightened senses, Bucky could see further and more clearly than Steve, but the fog was thick enough that even he had issues.

“Keep right,” Bucky mumbled, voice muffled slightly from his mask, “The warehouse is that way. I can smell it.”

And God was it horrid.

The scent of blood assaulted his senses, bombarding him with its intensity and making his fangs ache. It was everywhere. He couldn’t see it, but its stench lingered heavily on the grass where it had seeped into the dirt.

He had to clench his jaw to keep the rumble of hunger from clawing up his throat. Bucky hated that his body craved blood, hated that he needed it to live. He detested everything that he was, but he couldn’t deny the effects the sweet scent had on him.

“It’s everywhere, Steve.” Bucky swallowed hard, his vision deepening in its burgundy haze. “It’s all around us, all over the place. The amount of it… there has to be multiple bodies.”

Steve, who’d been carefully creeping forward through the fog, stopped to observe his partner. “Can you tell if any of the victims are alive?”

With furrowed brows, Bucky tried to push his mind past the scent of blood and find something— anything— that would indicate that someone had survived this. His eyes fell closed as he willed his senses to extend, searching…

A heartbeat pounded from somewhere beyond the metal walls. Strong, hard, and panicked.

Alive.

Bucky’s eyes snapped open, black veins crawling further towards his eyes. “One. There's one still in there.”

Steve’s expression hardened and he nodded curtly. “Rescuing is the priority now. We get them out, and then we wipe these guys out.”

With a nod, Bucky turned his attention back to the warehouse. The scent of blood drew him like a moth to a flame, and he followed it willingly. The stronger it got, the more his mouth watered and the harder it got to contain himself.

But he would. He always did.

With every step, the aroma of it all grew stronger and the thundering heart inside grew more erratic. Fear seeped into the air, twisting itself with the sweetness of blood. But fear was prominent, and the bitterness of it turned Bucky’s stomach.

The soldier rounded the corner, his gun loaded with UV rounds and aimed at the only exit on his side of the building. Blood was painted on the side of the building in spatters, some of it dry while some of it still remained wet and glossy in the dim light of the moon. The door was cracked, and his ears picking up the faintest sounds of fast footsteps and growls of hunger. The disgusting sounds of blood being consumed.

Sounds of impending death.

With a shallow breath, he swallowed thickly and breached the door. With his heightened senses, he guided himself through the dark halls devoid of light. Every turn he took strengthened the scent of blood, nearly enough to make his knees weak.

God did it make him hungry.

Bucky could feel the veins under his eyes writhing, his vision growing more and more shrouded in red. Still, he moved forward, intent on completing the mission at hand. He wouldn’t break, he wouldn’t give in, he wouldn’t—

His body stilled, muscles locking in place. Bucky’s jaw slackened as his eyes widened, pupils blowing wide to better see as they scoured the darkness.

For whatever possessed that scent.

For whomever smelled so painstakingly delicious that it nearly brought him to his knees.

Hunger reared its ugly head inside of him as it perfumed the air, at each breath he dragged deep into his lungs like a man drowning and they were the last breaths of air he’d ever get. Steve radioed in his ear, but Bucky couldn’t hear it through the ringing that drowned him out. Ringing that silenced everything but that thumping heartbeat on the other side of the wall.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

Like a beast on a warpath, Bucky clawed at the locked door with his metal hand. His fingers dragging deep scores into the frail wood as he reached for the lock. With a jerk of his hand, the lock crumbled in his grasp, and his boot dislodged the hinges from the force of his kick.

Bucky tore into the room with his gun already trained on the closest target. A squeeze later, and the vampire is writhing on the floor. Blue rivulets of light drip from its mouth as it screams, the poison from the bullet doing the dirty work as it burns through its system. It would be dead in minutes. The next two bullets find their homes in two more, and they join the corpse on the floor.

His teeth ached from the force of clenching his jaw, grounding him in the haze of barely contained bloodlust. The aroma in the air was driving him closer and closer to madness, tempting him in ways he hadn’t felt in many, many years.

Perhaps he had yet to feel such intensity ever.

Something inside of himself was drawn by it. Pushed to seek it out in the bloodied room like a hound on a trail. Killing the targets had quickly become just a means to finding it.

Steve was still droning in his ear, his voice a thousand miles away behind the ringing and screams of the felled bloodsuckers. Bucky couldn’t find it in himself to be concerned he couldn’t hear his friend, too caught up in the moment as a vampire gouged a hole in his vest. He made quick work of it, metal hand reaching back and clamping down on its throat before squeezing until he felt the crunch between his fingers. Another bullet sunk into its heart to ensure it didn't come back.

A few more rounds to those of the coven that tried to flea, and the room was empty save for himself and the thundering sound of that beating heart.

The rhythm sang to him, a siren in the darkness that he drudged towards. Bucky’s hands shook with adrenaline and he was sure he looked every bit of the beast he felt himself to be in that moment. He could feel his carefully crafted restraint snapping with each step, each inhalation of that ambrosial scent.

He'd never wanted something so badly in all the years he’d been alive.

Turningthe corner, wide shoulders filling the too-small door frame, he heard a soft whimper. It bounced off the metal walls as did the scuffling of limbs shoving across the dirt floor.

He’d found it.

And it was a her.

She was pale, and Bucky couldn't tell if it was from blood loss or lack of light. Her hair was dark and caked in mud and debris, too dirty to see what truly lay beneath it all.

She was beautiful nonetheless. Absolutely captivating. And afraid.

Her fear bored down on him with each breath, putrid to his sensitive nose even woven in with the sweetness of her. Bucky was sure that it was the only thing keeping that final thread of control within his grasp. He didn’t want to harm her. It was his job to help her, to rescue her.

“Hey, you’re—“ He swallowed thickly, breathing shakily as a wave of hunger washed through him. “It’s alright now.”

Bucky felt the veins under his eyes surge only seconds before she screamed.

He winced, the volume of it enhanced by the walls and confined space. With his hands raised he knelt in front of her, placating. “I’m here to help. Please, just—“

“Get away from me!” She kicked out, dirt spraying his shins as she pressed more into the corner.

He had to get her out. For her own safety, and to get some goddamned distance from her intoxicating scent before it drove him any closer to losing it.

“Just stay still, I’m going to get you out of the building.” Bucky tried to reach for her again, doing his best to ensure his body language remained as unthreatening as possible.

She wasn’t having it.

As soon as he got close enough, she kicked him in the chest, smearing mud on his Kevlar vest. Her arms flew out to shove at his shoulders, uselessly clawing at the material in an attempt to deter him. He hardly moved a centimeter, and her desperation only increased.

She grabbed at the walls, trying to press herself further from him. Her hand must’ve gotten cut on a loose nail or a rough edge, because the next time it flew up to bombard him with shoves and scratching fingers, Bucky was overwhelmed by the potent scent of blood.

And then he felt it smear his face as her shove glanced off his shoulder pad. Felt it warm his cold skin, blanketing his senses entirely. All he could smell was her, all he could feel was that smear of delicate warmth. All he could hear was the pounding of her heart in his ears as it pumped lifeblood through her body. He could only see her within the red haze clouding his peripheral vision, the sole source of his every desire.

Then he tasted it.

For a moment, time slowed. He could feel his body lock up, his mind numbing as the flavor of her passed over his tongue.

Never in his long life had he ever tasted something so divine.

He groaned, unable to resist the urge to lick the drop that had managed to slip past his mask. Lapping it up like a starved dog.

Bucky’s chest heaved, eyes locked on the poor girl in front of him as the hunger swept through him like a hurricane. His fingers clawed at the mask in an attempt to dislodge it as he stumbled towards her with a growl.

In the back of his mind, Bucky was screaming at himself to stop. He didn’t want this. He’d never wanted to end up like this again; utterly trapped in the bloodlust. But his body betrayed him, drowning in the need for her.

“Buck!” He hardly heard Steve’s bellow over the thundering of the girl's heart before the cuffs of his uniform magnetized. They slammed his wrists together and forced them against his chest as a bolt of electricity was sent skittering over his body.

Confined, he snarled towards the girl. Steve’s heavy arms locked around his head and a vibranium needle was plunged into his neck.

Sedation. That’s what the protocol was. It was either that, or death for him.

The sedative slugged through him, clearing his vision of the red haze and loosening his muscles. Bucky’s vision grew muddled as his body numbed, the hunger dulled to the ache in his fangs.

His eyes found the girl once more, regret washing over him at the fear on her lovely face. He’d never forget that look. Utterly terrified.

And it was the last thing he saw before he succumbed to sleep.

Tags<3

@savannahrilee-blog

#vampire bucky #vampire #halloween #angst #bucky barnes #fluff #drama #x reader #fanfic #mcu #marvel #original character #smut #the avengers #fanfics

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