#otherwise I'm just too pale to tell the difference

[papermonkeyism]

Oh, hey, it's that time of the year when my spots are visible again! Looks like the left thumb only has 1/3 of pigment left. The other thumb is less dramatic looking, but this side has finally started eating the pigment on both sides.

Cool!

[servicpop]

✶ ﹑ㅤlate nights ﹏

NOW STARRING : hockey bf Suguru x male!reader

「ㅤNSFWㅤ」ㅤyour boyfriend can't help himself before the big game, he has some sort of jinx!

✙ warnings — thigh fucking, size difference, use of "prince," hand-job

notes ,, tbh I know nothing about hockey i just wanted to make an au with suguru that isn't just the normal jjk plot... / also this was inspired by Jinx manhwa... the sex jinx thing you know

1:00 AM

The room is cloaked in the silence of the night; the soft light of the moon filtered through the half-closed blinds casting gentle shadows across the walls. The air is still, filled with the faint scent of lavender from the nearby candle. On the bed, you and Suguru lay intertwined, your bodies molded together with you as the little spoon, and Suguru as the big spoon. The soft fabric of the sheets cocoones the both of you in warmth as you find solace in each other's embrace. At this point you're already fast asleep, lulled into a deep slumber as you lay in Suguru's arms. However, no matter how hard he tried to push the growing heat beside, he was kept awake from the raging boner he had.

With one arm wrapped around your waist while the other propped his head up, he watched your chest rise and fall steadily. You looked so peaceful. The pale hand placed on your waist snaked down to your thigh, caressing it slowly. "Hey, wake up, prince" He shook you awake gently, not wanting to jolt you awake but his saccharine, honeyed voice was enough to pull you back to sleep. A light hearted chuckle left his chest when he saw your sleepy eyes blink to conciousness, and the way your nose scrunched like a kitty was adorable to him.

Suguru's palm kept massaging your thigh as his breath tickled your neck, "I can't sleep," He whispered, groaning softly when his hips involuntarily grinded against your ass. It was an accident he swears, it wasn't his fault he couldn't sleep because of his erection... it didn't help how you were still half asleep, trying to process what was happening. You realised immediately when you felt something poke your back. "I'm tired..." you mumbled, your words barely reaching Suguru's ears. It was 1am, of course you'd be tired. "How about your thighs? I'll do all the work," you knew Suguru had a thing for your thighs, he would always squeeze and grope them any chance he got. He mentioned something about how it was the warmest and softest part of your body but you never really understood his rambles.

"You have a game tomorrow, Suguru," You scold but don't push away his grabby hands. You know about his "jinx" but to be honest it was most likely just an excuse to fuck you before games; it was probably a way for him to get rid of his stress. "I won't win if I don't feel you," He groaned, his fingers dipping in-between your thighs, trying to hoist them apart. At this point you let him, too overcome by your sleepiness to care.

The noise of fabric shuffling filled the otherwise quiet room as Suguru slots himself in between your thighs, pushing your plush flesh together to secure him. You could tell he enjoyed it as you heard a shaky and breathy moan from behind you. To be honest, you got off on it too, seeing the way his tip would peak out from in-between your thighs. You always knew he was big but it never failed to suprise you each time.

Slowly, Suguru moved his hips in a thrusting motion, drawing them away before pushing back in with a small noise of his skin making contact with yours. His breaths stuttered with each movement and his hands wandered up your shirt, caressing and feeling your stomach underneath his fingertips. Suguru wasn't extremely vocal but with the small grunts and huff he lets out when he's enjoying himself... drives your body insane and you can't help but grow aroused as well.

"You lonely?" Suguru chuckled, his hands moving down to the waistband of your pyjama pants. With a small mumble of 'there we go,' he slips off your pants, tossing them aside carelessly. He continues his thrusting, slipping his dick in-between your thighs rhythmically. With every thrust, you could feel Suguru's cock slip along the underside of yours. It was such a light feeling that it almost tickled. Suguru coos in your ear, whispering sweet nothings that barely register in your sleep-ridden brain. All you can focus on is his warm palm trailing to your cock. His hand clamps around you as he cradles it in his hand for a bit, allowing you to really feel the warmth from his hand. God you were already leaking. "Hah... feels good Sugu'"

"Does it now?" he hums in a sickeningly sweet and innocent tone, but the way his hands pumped your cock was far from innocent. His movements get faster, his hips went from slow and calculated thrusts to slamming his hips against the back of your thighs, chasing his pleasure alongside with your own. Both his hand and his dick sliding in between your thighs made whimpers slip out your lips. Suguru uses his other hand to hold you close to him, pressing his palm flat against your stomach to push you flush against his body.

"Gonna come," he grunts, his voice getting louder and more raspy as he keeps thrusting. The hand wrapped around your cock was still pumping with vigour, like he wanted you to lose yourself with him. Your voice wavers as moans flow out of your throat — Suguru's hands are way too skilled for their own good. You feel a knot forming in your stomach and your cock twitches in Suguru's hand. Your tip is so red its practically begging for him to have mercy but he doesn't stop. He wants to see your pleasure as much as he wants to feel you. Suguru's voice breaks slightly as he groans, white spurting out of his dick and coating your thighs as well as the sheets. He keeps pumping his hand until he feels you pulse and twitch before you come, "Mm... good boy, yeah just like that."

With a few more slow thrusts, Suguru finally stopped. He wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug-like way, letting his face fall into the crook of your neck. He littered kisses all over your cheek and your jawline before speaking, "I'll do well tomorrow, thanks prince," Suguru chuckled softly, letting his eyes close while he settled down with you to catch up on the sleep he missed beforehand.

♡ little gift — X nsfw video that inspired this !!

a/n : this was meant to be an oc fic but decided I wanted it to be suguru...

[woso-dreamzzz]

Ma'am III

Aitana Bonmatí x Royal!Reader

Summary: The aftermath of your elopement

"Well," You said, throwing your phone down onto the bedside table," My father knows."

Aitana, your wife, was relaxed against the pillows. Her engagement ring and matching wedding band sparked in the late afternoon sun.

"This is a terrible first impression, you know."

You scoffed. "Please. I'm his favourite child. That makes you his favourite daughter-in-law."

Aitana frowned. "I don't think that's how it works."

"It is," You said decisively. You crawled towards her, straddling her legs and leaning closer," Trust me. I know a lot about being a favourite. Father's favourite. William's favourite. Definitely Harry's favourite."

Aitana laughed. Her hands landed on your hips, drawing you closer until your lips were moments away from brushing hers. "Still, I haven't actually met your father. He might decide I'm not worth it."

"He can pissed off then," You said," I married you. I'm staying married to you. No matter what."

"You're lucky my parents love you," She replied," Otherwise they'll be very annoyed by this whole eloping thing."

"Is it really elopement if the rings cost more than a car?" You wondered and Aitana laughed again, fondly pulling on a strand of your hair.

"Yes," She said," You rich people live on a different planet."

You grinned, leaning forward to connect your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. "You know," You whispered against them," You're one of those rich people now too. What do you want to do first? Pay off Barcelona's debts?"

She rolled her eyes, pushing you away until you flopped onto your back next to her. "I think there's rules against those kind of things."

"You're right." You nodded," I'll do it. It looks better coming from a pair of princesses."

Aitana paled somewhat at your words.

Yes, she knew that you were a princess. The daughter of the King of England. Yet it hadn't crossed her mind at all on that beach last night with just the two of you, the priest and your security guard and two hotel staff members signing as your witnesses.

She hadn't considered that she would become a princess now too. It hadn't even been a thought in her mind.

Well, at least no one could accuse her of being a gold digger.

"I..." She didn't quite know what to say so she settled on the obvious. "I love you."

You grinned back at her, easy and self-assured. "I love you too."

You sat up, wiggling into the spot next to her.

"Things won't change, Aitana. Not by too much. Father won't let the media leak anything, though I doubt there were any paps on the beach with us. He's gifting us a house in Barcelona. It's not quite what we imagined but we can make it work, at least for now. We have time before this all comes out."

Aitana sighed. "I have to tell my teammates."

"Do it later." You shimmied even closer to her, layering kisses up her shoulder and neck. "We're on our honeymoon."

Aitana grinned at you with another eye roll that she was almost too fond of giving you. "Well...you do make a good point."

"You're right...I do."

"I mean, we've told out parents. Those are the most important people."

She could feel your breath against the shell of her ear.

"And we are on our honeymoon."

"And we are on our honeymoon," She confirmed, throwing her phone down and surging forwards to kiss you. "My teammates can wait."

It was hours later when you and Aitana emerged onto the terrace to eat dinner and relax.

You didn't bother to get dressed. The whole villa was within a gated community and your security team had always been excellent at the jobs.

You had simply thrown on a robe and relaxed back in your seat.

Aitana had done the same and you sat opposite each other as the sun begins to set over the horizon.

"You promise nothing will change too much?"

"Aitana," You said, leaning forward," Things will change, yeah, but not in the way that you expect. You can still play football. You'll still have paps following your every move but you also get more protection. More protection against paps and...others." You both knew who you were talking about. "People are still going to pick apart your every move but there's a team of lawyers waiting to sue those people to shreds. Not all change is bad change."

She grinned at you, leaning forward as well. "Then tell me the good things."

You smirked back at her. "Well, for one, you get a fancy title and new place to live. Enough money to last more than a lifetime. Access to fancy things like private jets. A new passport, if you want it." You moved back into your chair again, flinging your feet up onto the table. "And a tiara, if you want."

Aitana blinked comically. "A tiara?"

You winked. "A tiara worth more than your ring."

[unclewaynemunson]

@bigskyandthecoldgun made this very big-brained post about the perfect miscommunication potential of Eddie's heart monitor betraying his feelings for Steve while he's recovering. @mostrizzaward asked me to write it and how could I say no to that :D

The first time Steve sets foot in Eddie's hospital room is terrifying. Eddie is as pale as a dead man. He has dozens of wires attached to his body, that are connected to just as many machines and monitors displaying complicated graphs, all softly beeping at varying intervals. Everyone in the room talks in soft, grave voices and all the nurses and doctors have matching serious frowns on their faces.

But what seemed to be impossible happens on a dreary Wednesday afternoon in April: Eddie opens his eyes for the very first time since he passed out in Dustin's arms. Steve is at work when that happens, but rushes to the hospital as soon as he can, and suddenly Eddie's room seems a lot less terrifying than before. Because Eddie is grinning at him from his bed, even though he's still pale and weak. He's not only alive, he's awake. It's a goddamn miracle. His wide grin is familiar despite the big scar that has marred his cheek. Fuck, Steve doesn't think he'll ever be able to put into words how much he missed that smile.

Eddie rasps his name as a greeting and Steve comes closer to the bed. But then, something weird happens.

The machines around Eddie's bed are still beeping, but there's less of them now. The electronic symphony of noises has been reduced to a duet of two different beep patterns that are clearly distinguishable from each other. And one of them speeds up rapidly when Steve leans over the bed in an awkwardly angled attempt to give Eddie a hug.

“You okay?” Steve asks, worried. He wonders if he should call for a nurse.

“Yeah, man,” Eddie mumbles. His eyes flash towards the monitor in question for a second and a blush creeps over his white cheeks. He seems ill at ease; Steve can't quite put his finger on it but there's something weirdly awkward about the whole thing. He seems otherwise fine, though, so Steve decides no nurses will be necessary.

He clears his throat and takes a seat in the chair next to the bed. For a moment, he wonders why he's even here. They weren't exactly friends before all of this happened. It would be perfectly normal for Eddie not to want him around – and yet here he is, visiting him in the hospital like it's the most normal thing in the world. What is he even doing here?

But then, Eddie starts talking about how his uncle was with him when he woke up and gave him this book he's been wanting to buy for ages.

“He cried, Steve, I've never seen him cry in my life, but he was bawling, I'm not kidding!”

Despite his animated tone, Eddie's voice is still weak and his eyes keep falling shut even while he is talking. Steve knows that he shouldn't overstay his welcome and let Eddie rest, but he finds himself too captivated in how alive Eddie is, even though his whole presence – his loud voice, his broad arm gestures, his expressive face – seems a little bit toned down. So when Eddie tells him with a vague gesture to his nightstand that he tried to read his new book, but found himself too tired to focus properly, Steve finds himself proposing to read it to Eddie before he even realizes what he's doing.

And then the weird thing happens again. Eddie starts smiling at the exact same time the heart monitor accelerates.

Steve chooses to pretend like he doesn't notice. Instead, he takes the book from the nightstand and flips it open on the first page. He starts reading aloud, but he can't really keep his attention on the words that come out of his own mouth. He can't help but feel like he made a mistake. Is the heart monitor signaling to him that his presence is making Eddie uncomfortable? Shouldn't he have left Eddie alone to rest when he started getting tired? Why the hell did he ever think it'd be a good idea to read to him in the first place? He's never been a good reader, and certainly not a performer like Eddie. So he awkwardly stumbles his way through the words on the pages, in no way able to keep up with the complicated plot and no doubt failing spectacularly in the use of voices and appropriately ominous pauses and whatnot. Whenever he glances up from the pages, he finds Eddie leaning into his pillow with his eyes closed and a faint smile around his lips, only to find out he's lost track of where he was when he directs his attention back to the book in his hands.

It doesn't take long until Eddie's breathing becomes audibly deeper and evens out. Steve softly closes the book. He allows himself a few moments to do nothing but stare at Eddie's face and be grateful for the absence of a breathing tube between his lips, showing that he's only sleeping this time. Then, he gets up and tiptoes out of the room.

***

The weird thing with the heart monitor keeps happening every time Steve visits Eddie. It happens when he greets him, when he starts reading to him, and especially whenever he helps him adjust his position in the bed he's still chained to. Every time they touch, every time Steve gets close to him in any way, like clockwork. And every time, it's paired with some kind of physical reaction on Eddie's part: a blush on his cheeks, a somewhat forced chuckle, or sometimes even a badly concealed flinch, away from where Steve's hands are touching Eddie.

Steve pretends not to notice it, for Eddie's sake, but it can only happen so many times before he has to face the clear and obvious truth here: his presence is making Eddie extremely uncomfortable.

One part of it still doesn't make sense, though: Eddie actually asks him to read to him or to help him sit up or lie down again, and the next thing he knows, Eddie will suddenly be avoiding his gaze and that goddamn heart monitor will make it sound like Eddie is trying to break a sprint record instead of lounging in his bed, and he'll recoil from Steve's touch like he doesn't want his hands anywhere around him.

Steve muses over Eddie's odd behavior for days before he comes to the only logical conclusion: Eddie is actually repulsed by him and is too polite to tell him the truth. It's the only explanation that makes sense. It's just like what Steve realized so clearly that first time after Eddie woke up: they weren't friends before this, so why should they be now? Steve has no business being at his bedside all of a sudden, and Eddie doesn't have the heart to be mean to him and spell that out for him.

He can't even blame Eddie for it. For most of the time they've known each other, Steve was a major asshole, everybody knows that. Sure, they're twenty now and Steve has moved past high school stereotypes when he got close to Robin, but still... Those stereotypes made up everything about who they were, how they were perceived and who they interacted with for four whole years of their lives – six even, in Eddie's case. Eddie doesn't have any reason to want to let that go like Steve did.

He would never admit it to anyone, but the conclusion he reaches breaks Steve's heart: he should stay away from Eddie. Eddie has every right not to like having Steve around and Steve certainly doesn't want to add to his discomfort. He has been through enough, Steve wouldn't want to make this whole long and painful process of recovery even worse for Eddie by imposing his unwanted presence on him.

It doesn't matter that Steve has started to look forward to his hospital visits like they're the very best part of his week. It doesn't matter that Steve's heart starts racing for whole other reasons than Eddie's whenever they're close, whenever they're touching or whenever Eddie is smiling that beautiful smile of his. It doesn't matter that Steve wants nothing more than to keep reading to Eddie even though he still doesn't have a clue what that stupid book is about. None of it matters, because that's simply the price one has to pay for being an asshole and a bully in high school.

It doesn't matter, because there are way worse things than the guy you've developed feelings for secretly harboring a grudge against you. He still has Robin, he still has his little nerds, he even has Nancy back; as a friend, this time, which is honestly better than things ever were between them. He has the knowledge that Eddie survived and will be getting better with each passing day. Maybe he can start dating again, find a cute girl with blue eyes and blonde hair who doesn't remind him of the one person he can't be around, and it'll all be fine again. It doesn't matter.

Update: there's now a sequel post :D

[reidswhre]

A vague request for Spencer x reader!! (only if you want too, obviously.) Maybe some hurt/comfort?? I'm such a sucker for those.

spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: you keep your nightmares and insomnia to yourself till you reach a point where you can’t handle it anymore, it’s great your boyfriend is there for ya.

warnings: nightmares, insomnia, anxiety, low self-esteem due to the lack of sleep, however, it’s hurt and comfort! 🫶🏼

a/n: it's a bit rushed but I'm a little inspired so I did it before my inspiration disappeared, i hope you like it. also english isn’t my first language so let me know any mistakes. as always my request are open feel free to send me yours!

Sleeping is supposed to be something pleasant. It usually reduces stress and improves your mood. It’s the favorite activity of many people—in fact, it used to be yours too.

Until insomnia and nightmares began. At first, they weren't that bad; they scared you a bit, but nothing more. Then they became terrible, making you feel so awful you wanted to throw up, which led to unstoppable insomnia.

You used to sleep maybe 3 hours a day at most, and it was killing you. Not only were you unbearably tired all day, but you also had a mood so bad that even you couldn’t stand yourself. As a result, you started treating people around you poorly, which made you feel awful, but at this point, it was beyond your control.

You hadn’t told anyone either—you didn’t want to worry anyone unnecessarily. It wasn’t needed. You were probably just going through a rough patch. Maybe Mercury was in retrograde.

“Hey.” Spencer’s face greeted you when you opened your apartment door to let him in.

“Hi,” you replied with a small smile.

“I really missed you,” he said as he walked into your apartment, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You smiled. “Really? I missed you too,” you said sincerely. “You were gone for a few days.” Spencer’s job often required him to be away, and you handled it pretty well.

“Yeah, the case was tough,” he explained as he placed some bags in your kitchen. “How’ve you been?”

“Me? Well... good, I guess. Nothing new,” you shrugged.

“Are you sure?” He raised his eyebrows, questioning you.

“Yeah, don’t worry.” You looked away, feeling uncomfortable.

Again, you didn’t feel comfortable telling anyone that you hadn’t been able to sleep properly for weeks. There was no point in saying it.

“What’s in the bags?” You pointed at them, trying to change the subject.

“Oh, I read that green tea increases the body's relaxation capacity and helps with sleep. Plus, the amount of L-theanine is higher than caffeine, so it’s a great option to avoid insomnia,” he explained while taking the tea out of the bags.

“You think I need that? Why would you think that?” you said, your mood shifting a bit.

“What? No, I don’t think you need it. I just thought it’d be good to have to relax a bit. Personally, I’m sleeping fine, but I don’t see any harm in drinking it,” he said, looking at you.

“Well, I’m sleeping great too, so I don’t need it, okay?” There it was again. You had no idea why you were treating him this way—he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“I never said otherwise,” he said, frowning.

“Good.” You looked at the floor, feeling uncomfortable.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay—”

“I’m perfectly fine,” you interrupted him and walked out of the kitchen.

You entered the bathroom in your room and splashed some water on your face, hoping it would refresh you. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You were a bit pale, with dark circles under your eyes that you hadn’t had in years, and your lips were dry. You felt terrible—like a completely different person.

But you decided that if you stayed there any longer, Spencer would come looking for you, and you’d have to give explanations you weren’t willing to share.

When you got back to the living room, you saw him sitting on the couch with his cup of tea and another cup next to him that was probably cold by now.

And you felt horrible.

Horrible wasn’t even enough to describe it.

He had bought and made tea just to help you relax a bit, even without knowing that this was the very thing driving you crazy.

And you had responded terribly.

“Spencer, I—” You tried to start.

“I think it’s better if we just go to bed, don’t you? It’s been a long day,” he said, getting up from the couch.

“Uhh... yeah, sure,” you whispered, staring at the floor.

Your heart was racing, sweat was running down your forehead and neck, and your head was spinning as you tried to push away the dreams that had been tormenting you.

“Hey,” you heard a voice in the distance. “Hey, listen to me, love, hey,” the voice repeated in your head.

“Hey!”

You suddenly sat up in bed, completely disoriented.

“Hey, you’re okay, right? You’re here with me,” Spencer said, looking at you while placing his hand on your knee. But you couldn’t really hear him. Your head was ringing so loudly it felt like it was going to explode.

“Sweetheart?” Spencer stroked your cheek, concerned.

Suddenly, you regained a bit of awareness. You looked at him and his worried face, then around the room. The clock read 12:38 AM. Your hands were sweating, and you were cold.

All of a sudden, everything you’d been carrying for weeks collapsed. It just fell apart, and you started crying like you hadn’t in a long time.

“Oh my God,” Spencer whispered as he wrapped you in his arms, holding you tightly.

“I’m so tired,” you sobbed into his neck.

“What’s going on, love? I need you to tell me, okay? So I can help you,” he whispered in your ear, his voice soft.

“I haven’t been able to sleep for a few weeks now,” you mumbled against him. “I have insomnia and lots of nightmares. I can’t take it anymore.”

“Why didn’t you tell me anything?” he asked, gently cupping your face in his hands.

“I—I don’t know,” you sobbed. “I didn’t want to bother you, and I didn’t want to seem weak, I—” You stumbled over your words.

“Don’t say that. You could never bother me, especially not with something this important. It’s serious, and I don’t think you’re taking it seriously enough,” he said, looking at you with his kind brown eyes, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“I thought I was just having a few bad days, I don’t know—” you tried to explain through your tears.

“It’s okay, we can work through this. Tomorrow, we can see your therapist and check on how you’re doing, alright?” he said, kissing your forehead.

You nodded without saying anything, feeling safe.

“Let’s get that tea, yeah? I’m sure it’ll calm you down a bit—unless you don’t want it now either, hmm?” he teased you a little.

You let out a small laugh. “I want it.”

“Good, because I was going to make you drink it anyway,” he laughed with you.

“Hey!” you frowned.

“Don’t give me that face,” he said, kissing your furrowed brow.

“Thank you,” you said genuinely.

“For what? For making you drink tea?” he laughed.

“No, silly. For helping me, even though I didn’t treat you very well tonight,” you said, looking at the floor.

“Are you kidding? Of course, I’ll help you. It’s the least I can do. I love you, okay?”

“I love you too,” you said, giving him a small kiss on the lips.

You were probably going to sleep well tonight.

[kissingghouls]

The Prince

Part Five - The Hungry (ao3 // one // two // three // four)

Vampire Terzo x F!Reader

Summary: With Primo's help you and Terzo try to find a solution to save your vampire. (21500 words I know. I'm sorry.)

Tags/Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, BLOOD, horror themes, vampire violence, vampire bites, blood drinking, major character injury, vomiting, magic, SMUT, unprotected sex, and more tags on ao3

apologies and thank yous at the end 💜 xo Ghouls.

 Part Five – The Hungry

“Did you sleep well, piccolina?”

Primo’s deep voice carried from the far side of the kitchen barely audible over the rumble of thunder outside. It was somewhere between morning and afternoon, though the storm made it difficult to tell one from the other. Heavy rain pelted the stone walls of the cottage in a steady thrum in time with the howling winds. This type of scene used to be so comforting, but now watching water bead and trail down the windows just seemed to make you anxious. Sitting across the room and trying to make small talk with Primo Emeritus didn’t seem to help either. As kind and inviting as he was, he was still a complete stranger. An immortal stranger with superhuman strength you were supposed to stay far away from. Instead, he’d insisted on baking cookies for you.

Shaking your head, you jolted a little as the kettle began to scream from its spot of the stovetop. Sleep had been the furthest thing from your mind after Terzo’s spell. A full night’s rest would have been a dream, but there was no getting comfortable in this situation. How long could you be safe here in the middle of nowhere? How long would they wait this time?

“Primo, can I ask you something?” You wondered aloud, hoping the impending conversation would drown out the sound of the storm and your own thoughts.

He inclined his head, silently urging you to continue. A loose piece of his long, white-blond hair fell over the painted lines of his face as he moved; the rest was carefully tied back with a thin black ribbon. His focus remained on the pale green kettle in his hand as he transferred water into a dainty teapot at the edge of the counter. He moved with such precision, yet still maintained some impossibly delicate grace—the opposite of the way Terzo carried himself. There were other differences—far more than you could count—but where Terzo’s softness was an edge blunted by time, Primo’s seemed to be gently blurred into everything he did.

A flash of lightning filled the kitchen with bright light, the bank of windows on the eastern wall providing the perfect vantage point. You shuddered as thunder followed, too close and too loud for your own comfort. The storm blew a gentle breeze through the cracked windows and the ceiling fan above dragged it further in as it spun in lazy, lopsided circles. The kitchen smelled of florals and tea and rain, feeling like a Sunday afternoon you shouldn’t have access to. Everything was a little too dreamy, made fuzzy by a filter tinged with warm yellow-green like a flashback to someone else’s nostalgic past.

Someone else’s life. 

“Why settle in this place?” you asked, vividly recalling the cracked asphalt and sun-bleached everything you’d passed on your way through town. “Why…here? The secluded cottage makes sense, but why live at the edge of some abandoned nowhere town?”

He turned to look at you for a beat before reaching for two teacups. “Well,” he started as he dropped a teabag into the pot. “It wasn’t always abandoned, piccolina.”

He set a cup in front of you before joining you at the table, a sigh leaving his lips as the wooden chair creaked beneath him. “This town…it used to full of a unique vibrance that drew me in. I suppose on some level I grew comfortable here, much like the other remaining residents. But mostly I stayed for the work. That’s what I told myself anyway. I have no doubt that Terzo would have you believe otherwise, but immortality can be incredibly mundane. When I found myself in this little town, I watched it grow from nothing just like I had done with a thousand other little towns in my lifetime. But this one—it was easier to fight that feeling of boredom here, to find a purpose. I chose to put my energy toward something, to have a common goal with the people here while I could. There’s a darling botanical garden on the edge of town, built something like seventy years ago, give or take. I helped fund the project.”

“Really? So, it had nothing to do with the cute girl that delivers your groceries?” 

Black and white paint may have covered his entire face, but you could see Primo’s ears turn bright red. “That—she—hmph. She wasn’t even born yet. Neither were you for that matter.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s not the reason you stay.”

“The garden— “

“Sure, sure,” you teased. “Work, work, work.”

“Don’t start picking up bad habits from your beau, piccolina,” he warned. “Youth is wasted on the young indeed.”

“Not if you have an eternity to do something about it.”

He laughed quietly as he poured the most delicious smelling pink tea into each cup. “I forgot how much I enjoy such a human point of view. What of you and your eternal boytoy, hmm? What will you do when this is all over?”

You shrugged, pausing to consider his words. “Haven’t really thought that far. I think…I think I’d like to do all the things I never could before. No matter what happens I can’t go back to my old life—I wouldn’t want to go back, knowing what I know now. If I have to build a new life, it might as well be a better one than before. And if that sounds good to Terzo, then I’m happy to try building it together.”

“Hmm,” he replied with a thoughtful nod and faint smile playing on his lips.

“Belleza, I am happy to build you anything you want. But boytoy? Is that really what you’ve settled on, fratello?” Terzo grumbled as he appeared in the doorway, half-asleep with pillow marks on his face. He dropped into the seat next to you with a heavy sigh and rested his head on your shoulder. “Is that really all I am to you?”

“No. Sometimes you’re more of manbaby,” you replied and kissed the top of his head. “It’s ok though.”

“Ugh, I am so glad you two are getting along,” he teased sarcastically. “You are a bad influence on her, Primo.”

“Me? What did I do?” Primo mused as he took a sip of tea.

“You encourage her—”

“Ah.”

“—to be mean to me,” he whined. “What happened to that wide-eyed naïve girl from before, hmm?”

“I have no idea who you are talking about,” you responded flatly.

“Ah, yes. What happened to the fierce and terrifying woman who pretended not to be watching me sleep every night?”

“She met an unbelievably arrogant vampire.”

He sat up and shot you a big, toothy grin. “Oh, bellezza, was I your first?”

Primo groaned loudly and pushed away from the table. “Whatever you’re trying to do fratellino, do not do it in my kitchen.”

“Ah, calm down old man. I’m only teasing.”

“You were the one I liked enough to save. Even with your baking skills.”

Primo nearly spat out his tea. “Oh, Terzo, tell me you didn’t.”

“I was trying to do something nice for you, bellezza. But fine, fine. Let’s all pick on Terzo!” he grumbled as he stood. For a split-second the life left his eyes, the light within him dimming like a flickering lightbulb in a haunted basement. He was completely blank—jaw slack and body limp. Primo crossed the room before you could even think to react, rushing over to keep his brother’s body from collapsing to the floor. Terzo recovered just as quickly, coming back to himself as he stumbled slightly. He wrenched himself out of his brother’s hold and glared at him, teeth gritted.

“Fratellino—"

“Don’t,” he hissed. “I am fine, Primo.”

“Clearly you are not. How many more times has this happened?” Primo asked, looking back and forth between the two of you.

You crossed your arms over your chest and raised an eyebrow. It had been a few days since the incident in the bedroom and—as far as you knew—he had been completely fine ever since. If he’d started having spells again, this was the first you were hearing of it despite the promise he’d made. “Terzo?”

He shifted from one foot to the other, face washed with guilt as he concentrated on the floor and shrugged. “It… it’s happened a few more times now.”

“A few? What the hell, Terzo?”

“It was only for a couple seconds, bellezza! It wasn’t like the other times!”

“That’s not the point!”

“She is right, fratellino,” Primo agreed gravely. “You should have told me this was still happening.”

“Oh, do I need to report every detail of my life to you now? Would you like to know exactly what we did last night?”

Primo’s teacup flew from his hands and hit the sink, bursting into dozens of porcelain shards. He was so angry he was shaking; his white eye seemed to glow with his fury as his face darkened. You and Terzo jumped as he began to shout. “Satanas, Terzo you are still so stubborn!”

“Bellezza,” Terzo started quietly, moving between you and Primo. He placed a hand on your cheek and lowered his voice. “Would you please excuse us for a moment?”

You nodded silently, searching his eyes for any sign of worry as he urged you to go. You’d barely made it a few steps out of the room before the argument properly started. As you moved through the cottage their voices turned from hushed tones to an almost violent sounding shouting match. The escalation had them rapidly switching between languages to find the right words to fit their ire. None of it made much sense to you, so you let the bedroom door close behind you with a soft click.

No matter what you and Terzo had tried, the little bedroom still carried a faint smell of dust and disuse. The humidity had been so bad that leaving the windows open was hardly an option. At night when the heat broke the sounds of insects droning in the woods was so loud you could hardly think. By the time the storm rolled in, you’d given up completely on trying to air out the room.

You collapsed on the creaky old bed, balling the ancient quilt in your fists. It was still happening. Whatever they’d done to Terzo, whatever poison they’d created this time was still living within him. Things were already complicated enough, but if Terzo was still effected after this many days you knew it would only get worse. If he was hiding it from you, maybe they already had.

A tear slipped down your cheek. You’d been through so much together in such a short time, so many fucked up situations that most people would never have to think about. In some way it made sense if he didn’t trust you yet—you understood that, especially with the way the two of you had ended up together. What you couldn’t understand was why the thought of Terzo not trusting you hurt so much. Why it felt like hot knives in your chest, the searing painful burn of unease. Maybe you hadn’t done enough to show him he could trust you. Maybe he never would. You pressed a throw pillow over your mouth to stifle your cries, endlessly embarrassed by whatever this fucking feeling was.

A soft, barely audible knock on the door signaled the end of the Emeritus screaming match. Terzo said your name from the other side, speaking so gently you knew he had heard you crying.

“Bellezza? May I come in?”

You swiped at your face, brushing away whatever stray tears were left as you called out, “is that some kind of vampire joke?”

The door opened a crack, just enough that you could see his eyebrows pull together in confusion. “We don’t—that’s not a real thing.”

“I know. It’s ok, you can come in.”

He shuffled into the room and closed the door behind him. As he reached the foot of the bed, he dropped to his knees and laid his head in your lap.

“I’m terrible at this,” he admitted quietly.

“At what?”

“Apologies…relationships…honesty.” He sighed heavily. “Vulnerability.”

“None of those things are easy, Terzo.” You ran a hand through his hair as he nuzzled his face into your leg. “I’m not good at them either.”

“You deserve better than me—”

“Don’t say that.”

“I just mean…you deserve a better me than I’ve been lately. I should have told you.”

“Do you trust me?”

He looked up and locked eyes with you. “With my eternal life, bellezza. With everything I am.”

“No more secrets, ok? I want to help you, but I can’t if you keep hiding things from me, Terzo. It…it fucking hurts.”

“I am so sorry, bellezza. So, so sorry. I will tell you everything, anything you want to know.”

-x- Four Months Later -x-

Primo’s house smelled sweet—like sugar and fresh vanilla mixed with roses flowering in a gentle breeze. But underneath the pleasant scent was a hint of copper, a warm metallic tinge that permeated absolutely everything. Your entire life was covered in blood; it coated your borrowed clothes and seeped into your bedsheets, hanging in the air like a permanent red haze. You couldn’t get away from it if you tried. The taste settled on your tongue, bitter and harsh without the sweetness of Terzo’s kiss to wash it away.

Even the gardens felt wounded, the lifeless and bare shrubs now naked against the chilly autumn wind. The surrounding woods had turned as red as everything else, a dying fire against a cold, grey sky. It was hard to stay hopeful on days like this, hard to see beyond what looked like the end of the world.

Your world, anyway.

This was not how things were supposed to go. Stillness fell over the property, stretching past the woods to blot out the stars. You sat at the end of the path, knees in the dirt as you tried to decide your next move and the world just…carried on around you. Time and nature weren’t bound by the same crushing weight that followed you day-in and day-out. They just kept moving. Kept changing.

You dug your hands into the soil, grasping for something—anything—to distract you from the tears slipping down your cheeks. You were so tired of crying. Tired of thinking and feeling and being while just fucking waiting. Waiting for months with only uncertainty and pain to keep you company during the day. Waiting and watching as your lover struggled and grew weaker. You wanted to scream, wanted to scream so loud and for so long that even the old gods were forced to watch you cough up blood. It wouldn’t help but it would be something, anything that didn’t feel like this.

Something that didn’t feel like mourning.

“Do werewolves have big teeth?” you asked him, genuinely curious. Of all the things you’d come to learn about, you still had trouble wrapping your head around your sweet elderly neighbor transforming under the full moon.

Terzo gave you a half-smile as he rolled onto his side. “Not as big as mine, bellezza,” he replied suggestively, practically purring in your ear. His hand fell to your hip, pawing at the bare skin as he nipped at your neck.

“You are the absolute worst,” you groaned, but you didn’t mean it. You never did. These moments with him—these silly little conversations shared in the afterglow with bare chests and sweaty skin—you’d give anything to keep each other here forever.

“Ah, but not five minutes ago I was the best you’d ever had, no?”

“I never said that?”

“Excuse me—"

“It’s true, but I never said it. Wouldn’t it be kind of fucked up if you were bad in bed? Like how many years have you been doing this? A couple thousand?”

“Bellezza, I am not that old,” he grumbled.

“Well, that’s a shame. I’ve been into older men lately.”

“Better only be one man.”

“Aw, Terzo are you jealous?”

“What if I was, amore?” There was hurt in his tone, a seriousness that bit into you with venomous fangs.

“Terzo—”

“I’m sorry, amore mio. I know this isn’t easy for either of us, but—”

You cut him off by covering his mouth with your hands. “You are the only man for me, Terzo Emeritus. Do I need to show you again?”

A warm hand gripped your shoulder, pulling you back to the dying garden. Primo didn’t even flinch as you flung yourself at him, tears and dirt staining the silk of his fancy robe. He’d never mention it; Primo never once asked you to stop feeling, never told you to pull yourself together or chastised you for being an embarrassment to the organization. Primo Emeritus—a man you were taught your entire life to fear above all others—only ever offered you a shoulder to cry on.

And if that wasn’t enough, he’d simply offer the other.

He held you tight, quietly humming some centuries-old forgotten lullaby as your tears ran their course. He wouldn’t speak until you were ready. He never pushed or insisted that this would pass. He just waited to hear what you had to say. It took you a long time to get used to that level of empathy, for his simple acts of compassion to not feel like ulterior motives. But eventually you realized he couldn’t fix you any more than you could stop him from being a vampire. He only wanted to help you.

“It’s not fair,” you managed between sobs. “It’s not fair.”

“No, piccolina, it isn’t fair,’ he agreed, smoothing a hand over your hair. “It’s too much for either of you. But I swore to you I would help, sì?”

You nodded numbly.

He knelt in front of you, grinding more stains into the material of his robe as he placed a hand under your chin. “I would not lie to you, piccolina. I will save Terzo. No matter the cost.”

“What do you mean the cost?” you shot back, voice trembling.

He tutted softly and patted your hand before helping you to your feet. “Nothing you need worry about, my dear.”

“Primo,” you leveled. “What are you—”

“Hush now, piccolina. Why don’t we wake the sleeping beauty? We can discuss things together later, eh?”

You nodded once, knowing the vampire would hardly take no for answer. But something still ate at you, gnawing away at whatever sense of calm you had managed until you were nothing more than an exposed nerve. No amount of Primo’s wisdom or comfort could help you with this one. 

“Could I—can I have a minute alone with him first?”

“Of course,” he replied with a kind smile. “Would you care for some coffee?”

“Yeah.” Before he could get too far you reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently. “Thank you, Primo.”

It was too small of a phrase for all those feelings, but someday you would find a proper way to tell him how much this all meant to you. For now, you hid your sniffles behind your hands and waited for the older man to disappear back inside before gathering the courage to face Terzo alone. 

Over the last few months, the little room at the back of the cottage had slowly become something like a home. Your home. A cozy space you and Terzo had carved out of Primo’s infinite kindness and filled with odd, yet beautiful things from Terzo’s past. A collection of his vintage clothing and accessories had been stashed away in a closet, pieces from another time left here to idly wait for him to return. Neither Terzo nor Primo had shared why he sought sanctuary here those years ago, but rediscovering his old treasures made him so happy you didn’t need to ask. You trusted him to tell you when he wanted to.

If he ever wanted to.

Your feet dragged over the rug, the soft fibers adding some kind of familiar constant in this new life of maybes and what ifs. With a deep breath, the scent of clove and cologne filled your lungs, a warm combination you’d grown so fond of. Some days you went as far as spritzing the cologne on your own wrist to feel closer to him while he was stuck like this.

As much as this place was home, it was also a mausoleum. A place your lover was laid to rest, spending most of his days in a state somewhere between life and death.

Terzo lay on the bed, his eyes closed and his skin dull and grey. His lips had turned a horrid shade of blue made that much worse the longer he “slept.” It never really looked like he was sleeping—his sleeping face was so much more expressive than this empty vessel version of Terzo. Primo once said it had something to do with circulation, trying to explain the line where science met magic to form their physiology. You listened, but it never made much sense to you. You didn’t need to know. All you needed was for your immortal undead boyfriend to be not dead.

No matter how hard it was, your days weren’t always spent in some lonely pit of despair. When Terzo was awake he was still the same old Terzo—effortlessly funny and charming in a way you had never expected. He seemed intent on making your life together as normal as it could be, still trying desperately to woo you with grand romantic gestures straight out of those movies he loved. Some nights you’d stay up well past an acceptable hour, just listening to him share stories from his questionable past, tales of “years ago” that could have meant 3 or 300 years. There were other nights the two of you poured through a book about the history and architecture of Meliora House, marveling at photos of the grandiose mansion in its heyday. He would have you close your eyes and pick a random page before telling about each room in incredibly vibrant detail. While you never stopped being impressed by your boyfriend’s ability to recall so many things over so many years, your heart broke for him that such a big piece of his past had been destroyed forever. How many other things had he lost to time in 900 years?

You made it your mission to create as many memories as you could in that little bedroom with him.

Sighing heavily, you climbed into bed and pressed as close to Terzo as you could. You gently brushed a few wayward hairs from his face, hating how cold his skin felt under your touch when he was stuck like this.

“Sorry I was gone so long,” you whispered, laying your head on his chest. You would’ve given anything to hear him take a breath, for him to wrap an arm around you and hold you tight and kiss you so hard your lips bruised. Sometimes you wondered if you just wished hard enough or found the right god to ask…

“I know you said you can’t hear me when you’re like this, but there’s something I really, really want to talk to you about,” you whispered. “And I’m afraid I won’t be able to when you’re awake. If you’re awake…then it’s real and you’ll hear it and you’ll know. But if I don’t say it, if I don’t tell you…what if you never get to hear me say it? What if you never know? If you never get to hear it because I was too scared to say it…well, that’s no good either. So, what do I do?” y ou asked with a laugh. “I mean, I know what you would tell me to do, but it’s just…I don’t know. I guess it really isn’t that easy, huh?”

You reached up and kissed his cheek as you considered your options. You’d traced every line and crease of the man’s face, memorized every mark and scar so thoroughly they might as well live on your own skin and it still wasn’t enough. You had watched him for so long now—before you’d ever met him—and you could still spend hours just studying someone so beautiful it made your heart hurt.

He deserved to know you looked at him the same way he looked at you.

“I love you, Terzo Emeritus,” you confessed quietly. “And I’m going to tell you to your stupid, handsome face. I will tell you every day, whether you can hear me or not because it won’t change how I feel.”

You swiped away a tear and cuddled closer to Terzo, holding him for what felt like hours. It wasn’t enough; it was never enough. As Primo knocked on the bedroom door, you buried your face in his chest to hide your emotions from the other vampire as much as you could. He’d seen you express everything from rage to grief and back already of course, but if you could spare him one more pep talk you would certainly try. As he shuffled in, the smell of strong coffee began to overwhelm the subtle hint of soap and sweat that lingered on your lover’s skin. No matter how hard you wished you could stay and get lost in him you knew it was no use.

Primo’s slippers scuffed against the hardwood, cups rattling on the same tarnished tray he carried in every evening. Ambling through the room, he set the tray aside and gave you a half-smile before producing a glass vial from his pocket. You sat up and offered your left arm, the right already bruised to hell from previous draws. You hated this part, hated that this had become so routine. You couldn’t get away from the smell of blood, but you’d grown numb to the sight of your own.

The next part was always easiest. A bandage for your arm and a regiment of supplements and vitamins to keep you healthy. Things that kept the blood strong, Primo had told you when it became clear this was headed toward an everyday occurrence. You swallowed the pills down and accepted the cup of expensive coffee the older gentleman had made for you.

The two of you had bonded so much in these shared albeit terrible moments. You doubted he would be so quick to let you into his life without the forced proximity, but Primo never seemed to be bothered by having you around. It didn’t take long for you to understand that he was a balancing act, a man on a highwire with bound hands and nerves of steel. But those feats of strength could not hide the worried, emotional side of a man several hundred years your senior. There was something in the way he had leaned into this caregiver role, something that suggested there was more to his story than what he was comfortable sharing with you. But there were times that he would share, absently recounting stories from his own past. He once told you how Terzo had become frighteningly ill as a child, somehow remembering that very same fear of his brother at death’s door though several centuries had passed. He swore to you in a moment of raw honesty that just as he had done everything in his power to save Terzo as a boy, he would not stop until he saved him again.

And he promised that Terzo never had to know how much you cried.

“Did you two have a nice talk?” he finally asked, turning away. He hunched over the tray and jabbed a spoon into the thick, noxious mixture of tea and herbs whatever else he used to bring Terzo back to life.

You shrugged, not willing to make any more confessions for the day. Instead, you ran a hand through your hair and gave a noncommittal sigh.

“You should rest, piccolina,” he warned with a sigh of his own. “What would he say?”

“He’d probably call you an old man,” you replied, wiping at fresh tears with the back of your hand. “Or he’d put on his grouchy voice and mumble the equivalent in Italian to get under your skin. What’s that thing he always says? Testa di Cazzo?”

Primo chuckled. “Yes, I suppose he would call me a dickhead. Lovingly, of course.”

You managed a small smile before the tears threatened to fall again. “I really miss him, Primo.”

“I know you do, cara. I miss him, too. Though it is nice that someone finally found a way to shut him up for a minute.”

You snorted out a laugh. “Primo!”

“Just trying to lighten the mood, piccolina.” He knelt in front of you and made sure he had your full attention before he spoke. “I will cure him,” he assured you. “I promised you, sì? And I am nothing if not a man of my word. I know finding a solution has taken more time than any of us would like, but—Bah! Let’s wake him, eh?”

You nodded and looked down at your hands. You’d bitten your nails to the quick and ripped your cuticles to shreds over the past few weeks, your body trying so hard to fight off the anxiety that threatened to swallow you. There was dirt deeply embedded under your nails from digging into the ground out of desperation. Pieces of earth still stuck on your skin like tiny reminders of your every fear. “Please don’t tell him—”

“I would never betray your confidence, piccolina. Are you ready?”

You drew a deep breath, centering yourself before giving him a firm nod. Moving to the other side of the bed, you propped up Terzo’s body as much as you could, fighting against the dead weight and stiff muscles. You slid behind him, wrapping your arms around his chest to hold him in place while Primo readied the last ingredient for that awful elixir.

The smell was terrible, an overpowering punch of rust and dirt and the potion stuck to the inside of Primo’s teacups like roofing tar. The final ingredient had to be added seconds before consumption, like the half-life of shots of fine espresso but not nearly as appetizing. Primo nodded once to make sure your hold was strong before removing the stopper from the vial.

Terzo’s eyes shot open as the smell of iron flooded the room. Wild, hungry sounds erupted from Terzo’s mouth, feral growls that only grew louder as Primo moved closer and poured your blood into the mixture. The older vampire took his brother by the jaw, forcing his mouth open enough to pour the tea down his throat.

What used to take seconds now took a full five minutes. Every day you waited longer and longer for the vampire’s rigid body to relax and fill with warmth again. When it finally did, he melted into you with a happy sigh. Smears of blood and flecks of herbs clung to the corners of his lips as they stretched into a smile.

“Amore,” he whispered dreamily. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

Primo pushed the cup into Terzo’s hand before ruffling his hair. “Drink the whole thing, Terzo.”

“I will,” he whined. He made a face as he took another drink and struggled to keep the liquid down. “Augh, happy?”

The older man said nothing as he turned and left the room.

Terzo quickly chugged the rest of the mixture before he turned and nuzzled into your chest. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

And there it was, the last thing you wanted to hear ever again. You groaned and pushed him away, climbing to your feet. Tired of having the same conversation, you slipped into the bathroom to hide the fresh tears that filled your eyes. Primo offered you an out after the fits gradually became worse. He told you that you were free to leave, that if you wanted you could go on and start living a new life. He said you didn’t owe Terzo anything, you got him this far and that was more than enough.

You’d never been more offended in your entire life.

Part of you understood it was out of kindness, that Primo didn’t want you to sit and watch Terzo “die” over and over and over. As nice as it would have been to avoid, you couldn’t help but think how panicked and hurt Terzo would be if he one day woke up without you. The thought broke your heart into a million little pieces, just like it broke you heart that there were still days like this. Days when he’d wake up ready to push you away. His misguided, half-hearted attempt to spare you from this never ever worked. Sometimes you could even joke with him about it, but today…today, with dirt from the dying garden still stuck under your fingernails you wanted nothing more than to be with him.

“Bellezza,” he whispered softly as he appeared behind you, almost panicked.  He wrapped his arms so tightly around your middle there was nowhere else to go as his lips hovered near your ear. “I’m sorry, my love, amore mio. So sorry.”

You nodded and learned against him as the walls of that tiny bathroom began to close in on you. “Terzo—”

“Forgive me, amore?” he asked, pressing a kiss into your cheek. “Please forgive me.”

You turned to face him, staring deep into his odd, beautiful eyes. It was too hard to hold onto all that sadness when he looked at you that way, when he begged you. Your request was a whisper, a desperate plea in the silence of the room for him to just kiss you. He crowded you against the wall like he had done so many times over the course of your relationship and captured you in the most devastating kiss just as you’d asked. It was easy to get lost in him like this, to forget the awful trial he was being forced through and each painful day it meant for you. To forget all of it and let him be Terzo and only Terzo. You craved the way his touch quieted your mind, a gentle reminder that he was still here—that he would still be here.

It doesn’t take long for the spark to catch—it never took long with the two of you—and before you knew it, he was on his knees in worship of you. And maybe he did worship you, but you didn’t ask. You didn’t say much other than “please” and “more” as his fingers traced over every inch of your skin, committing you to memory on that bathroom floor.

It was slow and soft and you think Terzo Emeritus might be the only person who could ever fuck you against a wall and still call it “making love.” But you know that’s what he’d say because that’s what it is for both of you. You couldn’t stop yourself as he dragged his sharpened teeth across your collarbone and looked at you through heavy-lidded eyes, so blissed out and alive. It escaped you like so many of the tears you had tried so hard to hide from him and it hung over your heads as Terzo stared back at you, unblinking.

“What did you say, bellezza?” he asked, eyes wide and hips still.

You brought your hands to his face, holding him there. “I said I love you, Terzo,” you repeated, though you could hardly believe you’d said it yourself. “I love you.”

“M-me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“Oh, bellezza.” His mouth crashed against yours, clumsy and hungry as he tried to kiss you a thousand times all at once. “Love you,” he managed to say between breaths, directing most of his concentration toward carefully laying you on the floor. “I love you,” he repeated as he repositioned himself over you and slowly slid his cock back into your heat.  “I love you…and you love me.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” you warned.

“Too late for that, amore mio. You’re there forever now.” He grinned down at you and pointed at his chest. “And here too.”

“Ugh,” you groaned, rolling your eyes. “You’re such a fucking sap.”

“Sì, but you love me.” He made a point of circling his hips to watch you writhe and keen under him, smiling the entire time.

“Terzo, please.”

“Anything for you my love,” he whispered into your ear before changing his angle and beginning to fuck you in earnest. As he drove each thrust home, you could see stars in your vision. That white-hot passion that had always burned between you was a flare, a lifeline you could follow back to safety, to someone who loved you. To someone you loved.

He held you close as you came, his fingers digging into your hips as your own clawed at his back. He followed soon after with his face buried into your neck, his breath almost instantly cooling your heated skin. He stayed between your legs, lazily mouthing at your collarbone as you both came down from the high, completely addicted to each other.

“I’m so sorry, bellezza. Please, please forgive me,” he begged once more, finally resting his head on your chest. His hair fanned out, sticking in odd patterns to the sweat on your skin as he lay claim to you once more.

“I already have,” you admitted softly, carding a hand through his messy hair. “Shower?”

He nodded. “In a minute.”

You granted him as much peace as you could on the patterned tiles of the bathroom, silently lying with him and holding him close until he was ready to start the day—though it had to be close to midnight by then. Things seemed to move slower in Primo’s house, as though time itself had its claws in the two of you. Even tiny gestures like Terzo’s fascination with washing your hair could never be rushed no matter how much shampoo he managed to get in your eyes.

You were the same way, of course. Taking care to steady your hand before tracing the angles on his face in that black paint. It was no small task, especially not after he explained the meaning behind it. Every time he would tease you about the serious expression you wore while trying to even out the lines on his nose, taking this delicate, intimate part of his life and making it into some silly game. And you let him, finding yourself unable to stop doing anything that made him smile. Even if that meant you were now in charge of buttoning his shirts for him half the time.

Part of you missed those ridiculous crop tops.

-x-

Terzo settled his hip against the counter, watching closely as you moved through the next part of your routine. Preparing his midnight “breakfast” fell on you as Primo very quickly forbid him from using any of the appliances, some unspoken memory of a culinary disaster shared between them with a knowing look. Carefully, you poured the contents of a blood bag into the mug that previously held your coffee. Try as you might, you could never get Terzo to explain why he liked sharing your cup, he simply asked that you did. It was one of his more reasonable requests.

With the cup in the microwave, the two of you watched the faded design slowly spin in the ancient wood-paneled machine. What once read “Everything’s better in” some town was barely legible after at least a decade’s worth of runs through the dishwasher. The cottage was full of things like that—old and yellowing, well loved, but still functional. You cracked a smile, thinking about how similar your 900 year old vampire boyfriend and a microwave from the 1980’s could be.

“What’s so funny, hmm?” he mused and pulled you into his arms.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing, huh?” He squeezed your sides, tickling you until you let out a high pitched squeal.

“Stop,” you managed through a giggle. “You wouldn’t like the joke anyway.”

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but the ungodly howl of the microwave timer cut off anything he was about to say. He reached for the cup and took a long pull, savoring the rich taste of A Positive with his eyes closed. A pleased hum rumbled in his throat as he tried to lick away the leftover traces, but a deep red line formed above his upper lip.

You smiled and let your eyes trail over every little line and soft ridge buried under the paint. Such fine details were only visible up close when he was painted, but you liked the way they added a softness to the harsh angles. You reached over and swiped your thumb across his lip to wipe away the blood mustache.

“You know I’m not going anywhere, right?”

Terzo stared back at you wide-eyed. After a beat he nodded and lowered his gaze, staring into his substitute meal with a hint of shame.

“I know, bellezza,” he offered quietly. “I’m sorry. I just—sometimes I can’t understand why you would stay with me.”

“Yeah, well. If you have to ask, you’re dumber than you look.”

“How dumb do I look?” he shot back, deeply concerned.

“Oh, bello.” You pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “You don’t look dumb. At all.”

He beamed at you. “Bello?”

“Sì, bello. Bellisimo, even.”

“I love you, bellezza, but your pronunciation is terrible.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you groaned. “Testa di Cazzo.”

“Such a dirty mouth,” he tsked.

“Said the vampire with a blood mustache.”

“Straws are bad for the turtles, bellezza,” he informed you, his mouth set in a deep frown. “I saw it on the news.”

“Ha! I’d believe you could fly before I believe you watched the news.”

He sighed. “Ok, fine. It’s something I heard Omega say once.”

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. He was so warm after he ate that you couldn’t help but relax against him. “Do you think Omega and Alpha are enjoying their extended vacation?”

“I doubt they’ve ever been happier. They’ve asked for a swimming pool for Christmas for the last, oh, thirty years?”

“Do you even celebrate Christmas?”

“No! Which makes it that much more irritating when they ask—"

“Hate to interrupt,” Primo chimed in as he appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Feel free not to then,” Terzo shot back with a wave of his hand. “We’re busy.”

“Apologies fratellino but it cannot be helped. There is something we need to discuss.”

“No,” he replied with a frown. “No ‘discussions’, no tests, no nothing. Not today, Primo. Please?”

It was Primo’s turn to frown, deep creases forming between his eyes and around his mouth. He looked older somehow, more wrinkled and tired than he had a few hours ago. His body appeared almost frail, like a distorted reflection of the way Terzo had become brighter and livelier.

“Primo, are you ok?” you asked gently.

“Always, piccolina,” he replied dismissively. “Now, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. Could you two join me in the lab?”

Terzo sighed heavily and knocked back the rest of his breakfast in one gulp. “Do we have a choice?”

“No,” Primo responded simply.

Together you quietly made your way through the back of the house and down the set of stone steps that marked the boundary of the original cottage. A large glass conservatory stretched across the back of the property; an addition made sometime later where Primo spent most of his time these days. The air in the structure was sticky and humid, heavy with the heat of the day still trapped between the thick panes.

You settled on the small sofa hidden amongst the massive leaves, the pollen from the fresh blooms making your nose itch as you looked around Primo’s makeshift laboratory. A worktable that should have been used for flower arrangements and propagation was covered in countless glass flasks filled with odd concoctions and a colorful assortment of potions. Some bubbled under the heat of an open flame, while others slowly dripped into a new container like moonshine being distilled in some prohibition hideout. Each mixture had been crafted by hand while Primo consulted some dusty old tome, working tirelessly to keep his brother alive. You weren’t sure if it was basic chemistry or some magical alchemy the old vampire had his hands in, neither would really surprise you.

“What is it you want now?” Terzo asked, clearly annoyed by Primo’s insistence. “More blood?”

“No, fratellino. You should sit down.”

He looked nervous, hands trembling slightly as he sat and sank into the sofa. It wasn’t an expression you were used to seeing on the carefree vampire’s face, even when things had been at their worst. Something in Primo’s tone scared him, which only made you frightened in turn. You slipped your hand into his, fingers intertwining in a silent reminder that you were there with him. That you loved him.

The exposed skin of his hands glowed with warmth—with life. You were glad to see him feeling better. Looking better. But Primo’s solemn expression cast a dark cloud over everything in the room. Whatever he had found, whatever he needed to say didn’t look good.

“Fratellino, how do you feel?”

“Better than you look,” he replied in a suspicious tone. “Why do you ask?”

Primo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Terzo…this isn’t easy—”

“You can’t fix it,” he whispered.

“No, Terzo that’s not—” he rushed. He paused with a sigh, searching for the right words. “What’s happening to you—the poison is…complex. It took a great deal of time to break it down and discover all the components—to understand why our temporary solution treats the effects, but hasn’t made any improvements toward ridding your body of this thing—"

“You’re blaming my body for this?”

“Of course not. Will you let me finish?” He snapped harshly.

 “Fine,” Terzo huffed and crossed his arms over his chest as he pushed further into the sofa.

“Mi dispiace, mostriciattolo,” Primo replied quietly. “My temper is harder to control right now.”

You felt him tense beside you as he cautiously looked up at his brother.

“You…you haven’t called me that in at least 100 years,” he noted in a whisper.

“Fratellino, do you remember what I told you when you were young?”

Terzo nodded once and wiped away a single tear with the back of his hand. Another memory shared wordlessly between two almost ancient men. “What does that have to do with this?”

“Our enemies underestimate us,” Primo replied grimly. “They think I won’t do what needs to be done. That I—have never faced such a harrowing challenge in all my lifetimes. Surely that is the only way to survive this long, sì? Fear in the form of self-preservation. That I would choose my life over yours.”

“What are you saying, Primo?”

Primo shrugged. “The thing that binds us to each other, the thing we need to survive—they underestimate its power too. I would die to save you, Terzo. I would do it all over again without question. And that makes our family different. It is how we are bound that gives us power.” He paused to look at you. “How we can be bound to another. Our blood possesses properties humans have never dreamed of. The trouble is it will take a great deal of our blood to fix yours.”

“Like how much?” you asked nervously.

Primo didn’t answer, instead he lifted a hand to silence you as his eyes darted around the room. The faintest noise came from outside, barely more than a rustling in the grass just outside the conservatory’s walls. Both men were immediately on edge, their fangs bared in warning as something—someone—moved around the building.

“Stay here,” Primo commanded firmly before making his way toward the door.

Terzo moved so quickly it felt like missing frames in a sequence, your brain struggling to process his actions. He pressed a knife into your hand, swiped from somewhere on Primo’s table. You stared at the thing, blinking slowly until the realization hit you. Danger. Someone had finally come for your vampire.

Silently, you eased behind Terzo and prepared to strike at whatever—whoever—might present itself. You held your breath, straining to hear anything while Primo moved through the side door, his long, white hair disappearing into the darkness.

A feeling crept down your spine—forgotten yet so familiar—winding your nerves tighter and tighter like a loaded spring trap. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, dialing your senses to eleven as you scouted the room. Your pulse raced uncomfortably as the chemical tried to take over your body and mind, every cell screaming for you to fight. To run. You’d spent most of your life training yourself not to be afraid, but that was easier said when the only thing to lose was your own life. But now, with Terzo—with the man you loved—standing before you, that sense was heightened.

There was a desire to throw yourself in front of the vampire—to protect him. No matter what it might cost you.

A shadow formed in the doorway, a large and imposing figure looming in the dark. You readied yourself as it stepped forward, prepared to fight off whoever had come for you. Light hit the solid form and the familiar image of harsh black and white paint in a shape you didn’t recognize became clearer. The man leaned forward, squinting as he scanned the room.

Terzo let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he called out, “Secondo?”

You felt your heart stop as Secondo Emeritus focused solely on you. With each determined step he ignored Terzo’s shouting and shoved him hard as he passed. He crashed into the sofa, the frame completely shattering from the impact and the sharp snap of solid wood bursting into pieces became the soundtrack to your false sense of security coming to an abrupt end.

Secondo had a hand around your throat before you could move—before you could think. He squeezed hard, cutting off your air as he dragged you across the room. Tears welled in your eyes as you helplessly kicked and tried to free yourself. But it was useless. He was strong, too strong. It took no effort for him to haul you up and pin you to the wall.

He stared you down, teeth gritted and eyes filled with malice. “Tell me why I shouldn’t just snap your neck right now, little hunter,” he ground out, fangs flashing with each pointed word.

Fear and pain surged through you, swirling its way around the adrenaline already poisoning your blood. Your lungs burned, screaming for you to take a breath as his fingers flexed and threatened to crush your windpipe. Years of training flashed in your head, every weakness and warning you’d ever heard. What good was any of it now that you were actually faced with an Emeritus vampire?

Maybe, maybe you deserved to die at the hands of a vampire, but you weren’t ready to find out.

You reached out and slashed at him with the knife. The blade easily sliced through the fancy material of his suit and into the soft flesh of his forearm. Again and again you cut into him, but he still wouldn’t let go. With a growl, Secondo wrenched the knife from your hand and stabbed it into the wall a hair’s width from your head. The placement was no accident. It was a calculated move to let you know that Secondo was going to kill you slowly and without mercy.

In one last desperate attempt you jammed your fingers into the wounds you carved, hoping it would break his hold. A warm rush of blood oozed around your fingers, but the vampire didn’t even flinch.

A choking sound escaped your mouth as you fought for each breath, tears streaming down your face. “Ter—"

There was a blur of movement followed by a sickening snap and you hit the floor hard. You grabbed your neck, sucking down desperate breaths as soon as you realized you were free. But how?

Secondo clumsily stumbled backward in surprise; his arm now bent at grotesque angle. Bone and sinew poked through his shredded sleeve as blood dripped onto the conservatory’s stone floor. With a great howl of pain, he pushed a protruding broken bone back into its rightful place and rounded on Terzo.

Terzo crouched in front of you, spitting and snarling like a wild animal. His teeth made a horrifying sound as he threateningly snapped his jaws at his brother. “If you ever put your hands on her again,” he growled in warning, his voice low and terrifying. “You will beg for death.”

Secondo offered him a sick smile as he stepped forward. “I would love to see you try, little brother.”

Terzo rose to his full height, squaring off with the taller man. He was almost an entire foot shorter and his slight frame made Secondo look even more muscular in comparison, but size and scale hardly mattered when it came to the strength of vampires. As old as they were, they were both powerful and possibly deadly to each other.

Secondo’s smile didn’t falter as he took another step. “Do you really think you can stop me before I get to her?”

“Would you like to find out?”

“Boys!”

Primo’s voice rang out so loud it rattled the large windows in their frames. The noise reverberated through the domed structure, bouncing around as Terzo and Secondo completely stopped in their tracks. The vampires were now frozen in their battle stances, refusing to take their eyes off one another but neither dared to move.

“I won’t tolerate you being at each other’s throats, so you might as well get over it now,” he instructed before turning to Secondo and pointing a bony finger at him. “If you touch piccolina again, you won’t be answering to Terzo.”

Secondo narrowed his eyes but otherwise stayed quiet as the warning hung between them.

You scrambled to your feet, keeping your back to the wall as you watched for the next threat. A surge of panic ripped through you as a woman in a designer outfit appeared behind Primo. She gently brushed past him with a small nod and a hand placed carefully on his arm, an ornate ring on her finger catching the light. The gems sparkled like stars in the way only real jewels could before they were hidden under the velvet sleeve of her jacket. She moved with such elegance, even as she rushed to Secondo’s side and delicately held his arm to examine his wounds. He tried to shake her off, earning himself a stern look from the smaller woman that seemed to fix him in place. He cupped her face with his non-bloodied hand, quickly mumbling an apology and something else that brought relief to her face. They exchanged a look—the kind could only exist between two people who were deeply connected or deeply in love—before he pressed his forehead to hers. Secondo’s entire being, this massive, monstrous threat, seemed to completely melt away under her touch.

Peeking out from under her collar was the faint line of a scar. You quickly realized who she must be. Reginetta, as Terzo called her, Secondo’s little queen.

What had happened to them was no secret among the hunters. Time after time you heard about how some rogue group had infiltrated his club, ransomed his assistant, and set fire to the building. How they had nearly succeeded in taking him out in the process. It was a fairy tale full of corpses and poisons, one Terzo didn’t like to discuss at all, but in your time together you had heard the other side of the story. How the hunters had tried to turn love into a weakness and forced Terzo and Secondo to watch as they stabbed his girlfriend. You knew all about how utterly helpless Terzo had felt, how it haunted and changed him from a man you suspected didn’t have a care in the world to one who carried the entire weight of it alone by the time you met.

Somewhere within the ruins of Meliora House, Terzo had also kept a couple of Lucy’s teeth.

You weren’t a part of what they’d done, but you were hardly different. Terzo was in this whole mess because of you—because you also foolishly decided to try to take out the most powerful vampire family in history. And for what? The was no glory, no noble cause. There was just some bullshit sense of victory and justice fed to you for years. You never questioned it, not even once. Not until Terzo directed his attention toward you.

There was nothing about you that was worthy of his love and yet, he gave it freely. He loved you—a pitiful, undeserving mess of a girl with blood on her hands and next to nothing to offer him.

You tried to swallow it down, to make yourself as small as possible and disappear. A wounded cry left your lips as you thought about all the damage you’d done. All that pain and heartache inflicted for centuries by hunters just like you.

He turned as you whimpered, moving faster than your eyes could follow. Holding you tight to his chest, he began to whisper a thousand apologies into your hair before you could even think to protest. You didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve him, but he was right there with you. Fighting the urge to sob, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Everything the two of you had been through, every errant feeling or emotion you’d pushed down bubbled to the surface and threatened to drown you. You were afraid. You were worried. You were annoyed and happy and loved. You were so, so loved. And you were the safest you’d ever felt—the only time you’d felt safe in your miserable little life—here in his arms. That thought—that knowledge burned brighter than any of the nasty things you could tell yourself about your former life.

Terzo loved you. He’d said it a million times and now you finally understood what it meant. And you’d fight to the death to hold onto it.

“You’ve got real shitty people skills, Twos.”

You lifted your head to search for the voice. Another couple appeared, gracefully making their way into the conservatory. Gold accents adorned their coordinating outfits, glinting in the soft light as they moved. The delicate fringe of their epaulets swayed as Count and Countess Copia gave their surroundings a once-over. Their painted faces hid their expressions, but their military dress suggested they were here for something serious. Terzo however, wasn’t nearly as stoic. As Copia took a step forward, Terzo let out low, warning growl.

“Oh, calm down, fratello,” Copia called out with a dismissive wave. “No one’s going to hurt you or the girl.”

“Honestly,” the Countess started and turned to Reginetta. “How on earth do you put up with him?”

It was Secondo’s turn to growl. “She’s a hunter,” he grinded out.

“Yeah,” the Countess laughed. “A teeny-tiny little hunter in a room full of Emeritus vampires. What exactly did you think she was going to do?”

“She can speak for herself,” you spat as you tried to untangle yourself from Terzo’s arms.

The Countess let out a deranged giggle. “Not if I snatch out your tongue—”

“You’re not going anywhere near her. None of you are going anywhere near her,” Terzo sneered.

“Oh well,” she hummed and turned her attention to Terzo. “Terzo! It’s so lovely to see you dressed like it’s this century.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Well, Sorella, I lost most of my things in a fire and had to run for my life.” He gestured toward her clothes. “What is your excuse for this?”

She flashed her fangs and hissed.

“Amore don’t tease a dying man,” Copia urged, and steering her away by the shoulders. He casually dropped onto the broken sofa, barely noticing the splintered wood at his feet. “Do you have any sort of burial ensemble in mind, fratello?”

“No, because I’m not dying,” Terzo corrected. His fingernails dug painfully into your skin as he buried a much angrier reaction.

“Are you sure? You look terrible,” Secondo teased, ignoring the pinch he received from Reginetta.

“If you’re not dying then why did Primo call us?” Copia asked. “Primo, why did you call us?”

“I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t,” Primo muttered with a groan. “Frankly, it’s embarrassing that none of you can be in the same room for more than two minutes before you start acting like children. I called because Terzo needs help, your help—”

“And not because you’re trying to show off in front of the little hunter, hmm?” Secondo challenged coolly.

“Mind your tone, fratellino,” Primo warned, accompanied by a low growl as he stepped toward his brother.

“Oh, here we go,” Copia grumbled with a roll of his eyes and leaned forward to grab a sharp, broken piece of wood. He tossed the makeshift stake at Primo and Secondo’s feet, issuing a challenge of his own. “You ever see a real vampire bloodbath, little hunter?”

“Enough!” Terzo screamed. His entire body shook with anger as he looked around the room, staring each of his brothers down. “You said we’d be safe here,” he spat at Primo. “You promised me.”

“You are safe here—”

“That stronzo grabbing bellezza by the throat is your definition of safe?” He let out an uneasy laugh as he turned to Copia. “Make your jokes, Copia. By all means, please have another laugh at my expense. But let me ask you what would you have done, hmm? What would you have done if Secondo had stormed into your fucking castle and grabbed the Countess like that? If he had threatened to take her life instead of killing a room full of people so the two of you could live happily ever after, huh?”

“Well, I—” Copia started, but Terzo angrily waved him off.

“I don’t want your fucking help,” he stated tersely. “We don’t need any help from any of you if this is how you’re going to treat us. If this is how you and Secondo plan to repay me for fighting your fucking battles I don’t need you here.”

“Terzo, hang on—” Secondo tried.

“No!” Terzo snapped. “If none of you have any interest in helping, just go back to wherever the hell you came from. Leave us in peace. Let me die in peace.”

“I’m sorry,” Secondo offered softly. The room fell completely silent as he took a few careful steps forward and placed a hand on Terzo’s shoulder. “Mi dispiace. I’m sorry, Terzo. I didn’t mean to—"

“I don’t need your apology,” Terzo grinded out and shook him off. “You owe it to her.”

You shook your head, finally finding your voice. “He was only trying to protect you, Terzo.”

He whipped around with an incredulous look. “He tried to—”

“I know,” you replied quickly, cutting him off. “But I don’t blame him for that. I don’t expect him or anyone in your family to trust me. Hell, I wouldn’t trust me. The things you’ve all been through…It doesn’t matter how much you trust me; I’ll still have to earn it from everyone else. You just need to know the only thing I care about is helping you and if that’s why they’re here—if that’s what Primo needs to fix you…” you trailed off and shook your head. “I couldn’t care less about what happens to me.”

“I care about what happens to you, cara mia,” he whispered.

You offered him a faint smile before pressing a kiss into his cheek. “I know you do.”

“Well, if that’s settled. Is anyone hungry?” Primo asked loudly.

-x-

The cottage had never felt so full of life. A kitchen full of Emeritus vampires, both new and old, were all finding their rhythm as part of the task at hand. Primo and Secondo were singing at the top of their lungs, beautifully harmonizing some old Italian love song while effortlessly crafting a meal completely from scratch. Copia had shed his military jacket in favor of a novelty “kiss the chef” apron while he hovered over a simmering pot. Every few moments he would look up to make heart-eyes at his Countess while she and Reginetta stood nearby, hard at work attacking a cake recipe.

It unfolded like a scene from one of those silly films Terzo loved, a dynamic portrayal of a family that only ever seemed to be found in the most idealistic fiction. Your family, what little there was, had never once committed such an act of togetherness. Even Terzo—who was barred from helping in any meaningful way—flitted around the kitchen refilling glasses of wine and slipping into conversations like the perfect host.

He watched you from across the crowded kitchen, wearing a look of warmth and light and pure love that felt almost tangible. Without missing a beat, he seized the opportunity to take your hand and pulled you into the eye of the storm, making sure you were also a part of the greater Emeritus chaos instead of on its fringes. Primo shot you an encouraging smile as the ladies turned to ask your opinion on attempting something called “Italian buttercream.”

Maybe it was better that your family wasn’t like this, that you had never prepared a single dish that wasn’t frozen or had any idea there was more to frosting than the stuff that came in a plastic tub. Until now, you only had a vague idea of what you were “missing out” on, pieces of that “perfect family” that never seemed real to begin with. You doubted you would have been able to appreciate it for what it was prior to this past summer anyway. But now, hearing the sounds swell around you in that small kitchen meant more to you than anything ever had—including that limited edition sweater Terzo was still hellbent on replacing.

The sense of calm extended over a dinner served around 4 a.m., but it was anything but quiet. Laughter was shared around the table just as much as the food. Copia and Primo scrambled to find their most embarrassing memories of Terzo through the ages like a mother showing off baby pictures to a prom date. Secondo remained distant, though he didn’t ignore you completely. Once Reginetta had warmed up to you, he even began to use more than one word to reply.

The extent of Terzo’s situation was revealed over a dessert eaten with tiny forks. After one too many glasses of wine seeped into everyone’s bloodstream, Primo laid out what he’d discovered to an audience of vampires stunned into silence. Terzo buried his face in his hands while Secondo angrily shot up from the table and began pacing the length of the dining room. 

Paying his brothers no mind, Primo outlined the rest of his plan. He’d found a solution, albeit a dangerous one. A mix of vampire blood, a rare plant, and a little bit of magic was all he needed, a list of ingredients you couldn’t quite comprehend. You tried your best to follow along and understand exactly what was needed to save your love, but the plan was so heavily flawed you couldn’t focus on anything but how risky the whole thing was. You weren’t as strong as the others, nor were you immortal, but you knew how to strategize and how to fight. You had an intimate knowledge of how the hunters’ network operated and everything Primo had laid out looked like walking into an obvious trap.

“So, this plant…you’re saying one of the only places to find it just so happens to be your little town’s botanical garden?” you asked. “I’m guessing this is the very same garden that you personally funded?”

“It is the same, yes.”

“I don’t like this, Primo.”

“I don’t understand,” the Countess interjected. “What’s the problem?”

“It’s too easy,” you and Secondo answered, almost in unison.

“Well yeah. But we could just kill them,” she replied with a huff. “Problem solved.”

“No, problem not solved,” Secondo growled back. “Are you even listening?”

“I agree we should kill them, dear Countess, but I must insist that we do not go charging into this. We will need every single body with a pulse that we can find, or we might not make it back from this. They will most certainly be waiting for us and they’ve had months to plan for our arrival. Hell, they’re probably watching us right now.”

“Ok but I do get to kill them, right? Like, after everything? Vampire snacks?”

“Who is going to stop you, amore?” Copia cooed, petting her face with a gloved hand.

“Bellezza,” Terzo started quietly. “Are you going to be ok with this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, isn’t it possible these hunters might be people you know?”

The other discussions in the room fell away as the vampires waited for your reply. There was a definite possibility that people you once knew wanted you dead, but they were part of another life completely. Even if you hadn’t fallen for Terzo, they tried to kill you. You didn’t know if it was direct or just collateral damage, but the point remained the same. The hunters placed no value on your life or his, or anyone else in the room for that matter. They didn’t care what happened to any of you as long as they got the job done.

You took Terzo’s hand, squeezing it lightly. “If they are people I knew, they’re part of my past. They’re not people I want to know anymore. Honestly, if came down to it, I’d burn the world down to save you.”

“That’s not part of the plan, correct?” Copia asked nervously. “Don’t get any ideas, amore.”

“Must every plan involve all of you walking into an obvious trap?” Reginetta asked voice shaking as she pushed herself up from her chair. She turned and made a quick exit from the room, letting the front door slam as she escaped. 

“Tesorino, wait,” Secondo called out, chasing after her.

“She has a point, you know,” Terzo added sharply, rising from his own seat. “It’s not like this sort of thing worked out well for us last time.”

“Terzo, this is different,” Primo offered.

“Oh, you’re right. This is worse. Much worse. This time we don’t have Mary, Alpha, or Omega here to help—”

“I’ve summoned Earth and Air—”

“Fantastic. Why not call everyone so you can host a proper family reunion at my fucking wake.”

Primo slammed his fists on the table. “I’m not going to let you die, Terzo!”

He sighed. “If you want to yell at god old man, be my guest. But my time is limited and I’d rather be doing anything else, so I am going to bed. Bellezza, will join me?”

You nodded once, too lost in your own thoughts to even think about sleeping. “Yeah, just um, give me a minute?”

He frowned, worry lines setting deep in his forehead. He wasn’t very good at being alone these days, especially when your time together was growing shorter by the day. That night in your apartment flashed in your mind, his soft confession about quiet being too much for him to handle. Everything you’d done since you met was to keep him safe, whether you realized or not. But were you really doing enough? Why did it sound like he was giving up?

You placed a kiss on his cheek on your way out of the room. The garden called to you once again, its empty husk now an old friend as you winded your way down the path. In the distance, the horizon was painted a streak of brilliant pink, announcing the arrival of another new day. A tear slid down your cheek as you tried desperately to steel yourself, flexing your hands into fists to keep from screaming. 

Primo had figured out a way to help him, but you couldn’t help but think of what might be lost in the process. There wasn’t much you could do about it if this was what Primo wanted—it had never been clearer that he was in charge and whatever he wanted was the plan. But the possibility of something going wrong was so obvious even the others had spoken up, though it didn’t change anything. If the hunters were as prepared as you suspected, you would be outnumbered by an enemy armed with stakes, fire, and poisons that could literally stop the vampires in their tracks. 

Was it all supposed to be some hopeless task? A trial designed for none of you to survive? You weren’t going to let that happen, couldn’t let it happen. You’d fallen hopelessly head-over-heels in love for the first time in your life and no one was going to take that away from you. All the silly plots to Terzo’s favorite movies finally started to make sense. You were so terrifyingly in love with Terzo Emeritus that you would do whatever it takes to keep him. Forever.

“It’s beautiful out here, huh?” A gentle voice asked behind you. As you spun around, Reginetta put her hands up to show she was no threat. “I’m sorry,” she started. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Sometimes I forget how easily we can sulk around in the dark.”

“Oh, it’s fine. Um, where’s—”

“Secondo?” she finished for you. “Secondo is taking a very long walk in the woods.”

“Ah. Is everything ok?”

She smiled faintly. “I won’t try to make excuses for his behavior. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you and frankly, he’s a centuries old grown ass man—He just…I hope you can believe me when I say that he loves his brothers even if he has a very odd way of showing it.”

You nodded once. “I understand. It’s…complicated.”

She laughed, her voice high and light like she was the mirror opposite of the man she was trying to defend. “Complicated is certainly one way to put it. I don’t know how much Terzo has told you and it’s not necessarily my place to share either, but there were long stretches of time where they were all living secluded lives. They cut themselves off from the world and from each other, but when everything…happened,” she paused as she fought back tears. “Terzo and Secondo blamed themselves for things that were so beyond their control. I blamed myself for—well, that’s another story. The point is, I’ve never seen Secondo as scared as he was when he heard about the fire at Meliora House. Not even when I was bleeding out in front of him, because that—that he could fix. But if Terzo had been in that house…if Terzo was—”

The tears she’d held back began to pour down her cheeks as she flung herself at you. She wrapped you in the tightest hug you’d ever felt as she mumbled into your hair. “You saved him. You might not have any idea what that means for this family, but I can tell you it means the world to me. And I know you mean the world to him.”

“It’s funny, you know? I love him. I’ve never loved anyone. I love him so much it hurts sometimes and I…I never really thought that was possible for someone like me. It sounds stupid but I think he saved me more than I saved him.”

“The Emeritus brothers are funny like that. I don’t think I ever even let myself dream of someone like Secondo.”

You cracked a smile. “Like a vampire?”

She laughed again. “I will admit that was a surprise. Did you know the Countess was a nun? It’s probably safe to say none of us could have predicted the path we would end up on. But the vampire thing…that’s only a part of who he is—part of who they are.”

“And you.”

“Yeah,” she replied with a nod. “And me.”

“Can I ask…” you drifted off, wondering how invasive you question might be.

“What is it like?” she finished and waited for you to nod in return. “It’s…different. I imagine it’s different for everyone, but once you get used to the new teeth it’s a little easier. And having someone who loves you walk you through it is infinitely easier than I imagine doing it alone would be. But as different as it is, you’re still you. Maybe a little,” she stopped to wave a hand, “amplified, but at the core you’re still everything you were. I sleep easier now, my dreams are a bit brighter. It’s not what I would call a carefree life, especially right now, but I don’t regret making that choice. Not for one fucking second.”

“Tesorino?”

You both turned to find Secondo leaning against the gate at the entrance to the garden, wearing a look of worry under his paints. Reginetta’s face lit up as bright as a thousand stars as she held out her hand to him.

“Hello, my love. Are you feeling better?”

“I am, thank you,” he replied and joined her, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. He shot a quick glance your way before taking a deep breath. “Sorellina, I—my behavior—”

“Oh.” You waved your hands. “No, no don’t worry about it. It’s okay.”

“No, sorellina, it is not okay. Please, please don’t tell him I said so, but Terzo was right—that was no way to welcome someone to our family. It was spite and cruelty that was directed at the wrong person entirely. I’m afraid right now I only have words to offer as an apology, but I hope that will be enough, at least until this whole thing is over.”

“It’s—uh—thank you, Secondo.”

“There. Was that so hard?” Reginetta teased, poking at his side. He flashed his fangs.

“You know, for what it’s worth you were actually pretty terrifying,” you offered.

He almost smiled. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Just please don’t make me stab you again, ok?”

“I think you mean let you stab me—”

“Ok, we get it,” Reginetta cut in. “You’re a big, strong scary vampire and no one can stop you, my love. But it is getting late or early—either way we should all go get some rest.” She moved quickly, wrapping you in another tight hug. “I am so glad we finally got the chance to meet. Goodnight, sorellina. Sleep well, ok?”

-x-

Terzo was sprawled out on the bed, lazily flipping through channels on the TV with his mouth set in a hard line and his shirt missing. The rest of the family could be heard shuffling around overhead, their muffled voices asking Primo for incidental things like blankets or the WiFi password. In only a few hours the cottage had turned from a secret hideout to a well-populated ancestral home, transforming into a place where the Emeritus brothers could feel and act like a “normal” family. You smiled to yourself, realizing you’d landed in the middle of some bizarre vampire version of those stupid movies Terzo loved.

He looked annoyed and tired, but with his shirt off and his sweats low around his hips he also looked exactly as he did when you first met. You weren’t sure if it was the sudden arrival of his entire family or something else making him so grumpy, but even in a cranky mood he was still the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. Thinking about it now, you never really stood a chance.

“There you are,” he huffed and turned, stretching his body like a cat in the sun. A tiny grin betrayed whatever feigned irritation had been on his face moments before as he patted the space next to him. “Come to bed, bellezza.”

How could you ever turn him down? You shed your clothes and crawled into the bed, pressing as close to him as you could get. He was still so warm and soft, not yet showing any signs of the poison’s horrible effects. You cupped his face, urging him to focus on you. “I love you, Terzo,” you whispered. “I love you so much.”

“I don’t think I will ever get tired of hearing that,” he admitted softly and brushed a hair away from your face. “I love you too, cara mia.”

“You promise?”

His brow furrowed. “Bellezza? Is something wrong?”

You shook your head. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just—I think—I have something to ask you. And I don’t think you’re going to like it, but I need you to hear me out.”

“I don’t like where this is going—”

“This isn’t something that’s going to be easy for either of us, but if this is what it takes…if walking directly into the lion’s den is our only option to save you, we have to do everything we can.”

“Bellezza, you don’t need to worry—"

“Terzo, I want you to turn me.”

Shocked, he stared back at you unblinking. “No. Absolutely not. No.”

“Terzo—”

He sat up and made a few nervous passes through his hair with his hands. “Bellezza, no. It will kill you. Do you understand that? You will die, to death.”

You sighed as you sat up to meet his eyes. “I know.”

“Then why would you—”

“Because if we do this…no matter what happens I won’t stay dead. It’s…the simple truth is that I love you,” you admitted. “And I will do anything it takes to protect you, even this. Especially this.”

He brought a hand to your face and traced his thumb over your cheek. “It should be me protecting you.”

“Do you think really I can’t take care of myself?” you asked teasingly. “We promised we would save each other and I intend to keep that promise. Forever.” You leaned into his touch, letting your eyes close as he continued to stroke your cheek. “I’m going to make them pay for what they did to you.”

“Has anyone ever told you how sexy you are when you’re angry?”

“Uh, yeah. You.”

“Come here, amore mio,” he asked softly. Carefully you climbed over him, legs straddling either side of his hips as you settled in his lap. “They were very foolish to make an enemy of you, but what you’re asking for…it can’t be undone. It is forever in a way that I’m not sure you understand—”

Your face fell. “Is that what you really think? That I’m not capable of grasping the concept of an eternity with you? That this is just some sudden whim and I haven’t considered the consequences? I have had nothing but time to think about these things since we got here. And half of that time I have spent without you, waiting every day for you to wake up and being terrified that you won’t. I have considered forever and it’s fucking scary, but I am so much more afraid of losing you.”

“Bellezza, I’m not going anywhere. Now that I have found you, I will never leave you.”

“Then why is it so crazy for me to feel the same way?”

“It’s not. It’s just—what if you wake up one day and you want a normal life, eh? That’s not something I could ever give you.”

You leveled your eyes with his. “I’ve never had a normal life. You and me? We aren’t normal people.  We never have been and we never will be. I don’t want normal, Terzo. Why would I want normal when I have what we have? I want this. I want you. I want to help my very, very handsome vampire boyfriend survive. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Ti amo tanto, amore mio.”

Your eyebrows pulled together. “You love what?”

“I love you, bellezza. So much,” he cooed and reached up to cup your face. “You are the love of my nine lifetimes and I will do anything for you.”

“Even this?”

He nodded slowly. “Even this. Forever is a long time, cara mia— “

“And it still won’t be long enough, bello.”

He smiled brightly, his sharp fangs on display. “No, but then I will have forever to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For saving me.”

You smiled. “Well, somebody has to.”

“They don’t, but I am very grateful that you did.”

“Well, I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner and that I haven’t really said it enough, but I want to be able to tell you everyday. For the rest of your eternal life.”

“It would be our eternal life, bellezza.”

“It will be our eternal life.” 

“Have you been hiding a romantic side all this time, hmm?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you leaned in close and pressed the softest kiss to his lips. “No, I must have picked it up from you.”

“Ah, I see. Well, in that case I’ve been an excellent teacher.”

“How do you stay so humble?”

“It’s a gift, my love,” he replied with a grin.

You rolled your eyes. “So, how does this work?”

Terzo’s brow furrowed as he bit the inside of his cheek. “I’m not entirely sure, bellezza. I know the basics—I drink from you, you drink from me, you die, you come back—but beyond that I’m not sure I could explain the mechanics of it all. Believe me, I wish I could give you more answers. Perhaps Primo could explain it in more scientific terms. But if this is truly what you want—”

“It is.”

He pressed his forehead to yours. “Whenever you’re ready, bellezza.”

“I’m ready. I love you, Terzo Emeritus. And I’ll love you forever.”

He leaned in, catching your lips in a sweet, tender kiss that said more than he could at the moment. He held you close, hands desperately clinging to you like it was the first time or the last time he would ever get to touch you like this. In some ways it was, but only as something fleeting, something temporary. The end of something that could give way to something so much more.

If the two of you would be forever, you’d have to start somewhere.

You barely felt his fangs cut into your neck. He had always taken such care in moments like this, always treated you like the most precious thing he had ever handled. To him, you were—and he made sure you knew every day since that first time you’d saved him. You could tell from the way he hummed against the wound on your throat his worship of you had no end. And maybe he had loved you from the very moment he saw you. Maybe you had loved him right back.

It flashed as your heart slowed, every moment the two of you had spent together replayed in your mind. Screaming at each other in the rain. The night in the garden. The kitchen. His stupid princess bed. Your entire life had led you to those moments—some bizarre, unexpected turn in your destiny had landed you here and now with the man you’d die for. A tear slipped down your cheek as your pulse grew faint, leaving you feeling dangerously calm.

Terzo pulled away and brought his wrist to his mouth, pausing as he looked at you. “Bellezza?” He asked, his voice thick with concern. “Amore—”

“It’s ok. I’m ok,” you assured him. “I just never thought I would be this happy.”

“Bellezza, you must drink from me now. Ok?”

You nodded, wincing at the sound of him biting into his wrist. He brought his arm to your mouth, encouraging you to drink as much as you wanted. As his blood flowed past your lips, you were surprised by how different it was. Terzo’s blood didn’t taste like sour metal on your tongue. He tasted like the way he loved you—warm and sweet and as endless as the edge of the universe with a heavy dash of something you couldn’t quite name. It was like drinking down something ancient and ethereal, yet just as familiar as every song or poem, book, or film you’d ever loved. As intangible as starlight and thick as honey, he tasted of beauty and joy and life.

You drank as much as you could, not wanting to waste a single drop of this gift he’d given you. It coursed through you, warm in your stomach like Kentucky bourbon and just as dizzying. You slumped against him, unable to hold yourself up any longer as his blood began to merge with your own.

“I’m here, bellezza,” Terzo whispered softly, smoothing a hand over your back. “I will always be here.”

A million questions formed and swirled around in your head, unable to travel the distance across the synapses. As they dissolved and fizzled out, your breathing slowed. Terzo kept talking, offering gentle declarations of love, but his voice began to drift until it was too far away to pick out a single syllable and you slipped into a dreamless sleep—

—and woke to the sound of shouting. The smell of blood surrounded you, dried and matted across your skin and in your hair. You weren’t sure how long you were out—long enough for all that blood to dry at least. How long did it take to die and come back as a vampire? Pain wracked your body as your heart began to beat again. Slowly at first, a heavy thump, thump, thump that pushed dead blood through your veins. Each muscle spasmed as you struggled to move for the first time in your new life.

Life? Afterlife? Or were you undead?

Fuck, it didn’t matter. You pushed yourself up, vision fuzzy as you forced your eyes open. Blurry figures with black and white hair stood at the foot of the bed, arms waving wildly as they screamed at each other. Terzo and Primo began to come into focus, but they were too caught up in their argument to notice you were awake. Pulling yourself into a seated position, you settled against the headboard and watched them repeatedly jab at each other.

“I’m not the one who’s lost his mind!” Primo yelled, his voice so loud you could feel it in your bones.

“Hah! If anyone in this house is senile it’s you, old man,” Terzo shouted back just as loud.

“Satanas help me. You idiots keep turning every woman you meet—”

“Not every woman. Just the ones we love, stronzo. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“You little—” Primo ground out some unintelligible Italian insults, repeatedly striking the back of his brother’s head as a means of punctuation.

“No, your mother stronzo—” Terzo snapped back and covered his head with his arms. “Stop fucking hitting me!”

“Nine hundred years and you still haven’t learned your actions have consequences—get back here!”

“Could you two please shut the fuck up?” You growled, pressing your fingers into your temples. Both men stopped and stared at you, stunned into silence. Relief left your lips in a sigh, the quiet filling your ears as you let your head fall back against the headboard. You unclenched your jaw, opening your mouth wide as you reached up to feel your sharp new teeth.

“B-bellezza? You’re awake?” Terzo stumbled toward the bed, quickly climbing up next to you. He took your face in his hands, inspecting it for signs of anything.  

“Looks that way, huh?”

“How—how do you feel?” Primo asked.

You felt different. What was the word Reginetta had used? Amplified. Everything louder, brighter, stronger. More. Instead of elaborating, you replied, “kind of like I want to kill you both.”

Your lover laughed nervously. “Hypothetically, right?”

“Yes, Terzo. I didn’t wake up murderous.”

“Because you were lucky,” Primo warned. “Of all the stupid things—” He cut himself off and threw his hands in the air, laughing angrily. “Mostriciattolo, you are lucky she woke up at all idiota. Ah, Mostriciattolo e Draculina. Perfetto.”

“Primo, what are you saying?”

“Nothing at all, little one.” He gave Terzo a pointed look and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

“What was that about? Why were you two fighting like that?”

He shrugged and slumped onto the bed. “Same as always—I can’t do anything right, don’t think before I act, etc., etc. It’s all very boring, bellezza.”

“He’s upset about me?”

He shook his head. “No, no, nothing like that. He’s upset about the situation. Said it was ‘beyond irresponsible’ even for me, but he isn’t upset about the outcome. He’ll probably tell you as much later. Enough about my grumpy brother, how are you feeling?”

“Kinda tired. Hungry.”

He let out a happy sigh. “Oh, amore mio. Let’s find you someone to eat.”

-x-

Reheated blood tasted nothing like Terzo’s. Thick and bitter, the lukewarm liquid stuck to the inside of some old commemorative thermos instead of pouring easily into your mouth. You turned the container up and to get liquid to drain faster, a dissatisfied grunt leaving you as your attempts failed. The others tried not to make it obvious, but each of them had cast glances of pity your way. The Countess had been particularly horrified that this was Primo’s solution to your first feed, arguing with him for five full minutes before he’d ordered everyone out of the house.

Between the less than palatable snack and the endless sway of the vehicle as it lurched over long-deserted backroads, it was hard to concentrate on Primo’s rant. As distracted as you were, it was obvious that the oldest Emeritus was no longer acting like himself. The compassionate man you’d known for months was gone, replaced by someone loud and angry. His face was harsh in the dim light, his white eye eerily reflecting the streetlamps as he spun around to bark at his family.

“Have I made myself clear?” he asked and frowned hard at the muted replies from his family.

“We get it, Primo. You’re in charge,” Terzo added sarcastically.

His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward and pointed a bony finger at his brother. “Not another word from you.”

Copia spoke up as Terzo shrank into his seat. “The plan hasn’t really changed that much Primo. Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?”

Primo growled, flashing his fangs as he sneered at Copia. “Is that what you think?”

The Countess sighed loudly and waved her hands between the men. “Are we gonna measure dicks all day or are we going to save Little Lord Terzo? Cuz I’m pretty sure I have the biggest cock around here and there’s no way our precious baby Draculina here isn’t fucking starving. And even if she’s not, I am. Your macho bullshit is far from appetizing, so can we wrap it up?”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t know why you have your panties in a bunch when you know damn well every single one of us will follow you straight into hell, Primo. So let’s go.”

“She has a point,” Secondo offered. “We can talk about it for ages, but we might as well just get this thing done and get the kid someone real to eat.”

“Ooh.” The Countess’ eyes sparkled. 

“No one eats anyone until the ritual is complete. Do you understand?” Primo shouted as the van crawled to a stop. He waited for everyone to nod. “Bene. Let’s go.”

One by one the vampires filed out of the van, joined by the two hulking figures of Primo’s ghouls. They’d arrived sometime before you woke, wearing similar metal masks to the ones you recalled Omega and Alpha wearing once upon a time. Earth and Air were much larger than the ghouls you’d met back in the summer, only appearing vaguely human-shaped. Their forms were almost too perfect, the details a bit too sharp to sit well. Part of it was the heightened vampire sense, but Terzo had briefly explained they simply didn’t care enough to make themselves look more human.

You filed that in your worry about it later folder somewhere between “what have you been doing for 900 years?” and “explain werewolves,” before letting it go.

“Once we get inside, stick to the plan,” Primo ordered. 

“It’s not like we have any other options here Primo. Are you going to be like this the entire time?” Secondo asked.

The two older brothers began to argue in harsh whispers while Copia and Countess brushed past and strolled through the front door. Soft lights on the interior made the tall trees visible through the glass that encased the building, giving it a warm orange glow like sunset in the summer. It was a beautiful setting, full of ten times the greenery of Primo’s ridiculously lush conservatory. As you followed the group inside, you realized the botanical garden had a familiar touch. Primo hadn’t just thrown money at something 50 years ago—he created and curated a living work of art.

Terzo gently squeezed your hand. “Are you ok, bellezza?”

You nodded. “Does Primo still run this place or something?”

“It’s that obvious, huh? I tried to tell him they should update things, but he gets all fussy when it comes to this place.”

You hummed in response, gazing up at the lofty glass ceilings. Someday, you’d ask to come back and see this place during the day, but for now you had to stick to the mission.

“We should try to avoid an ambush if we can,” Primo began detailing his plan. “There are three paths to the exhibit we need. Copia, Countess, you two will come with me. Secondo, you and Reginetta take the central path. Terzo, you and Draculina will take the left path.”

“Is it wise to split up like this?” Reginetta whispered to Secondo who simply shrugged before whispering something back. 

“Remember, if you encounter any hunters try to leave them alive. Terzo and I will need every drop of blood we can get,” Primo warned. “We’ll meet in the exhibit in fifteen minutes. Be careful.” 

He turned and quickly walked away, leaving Copia and the Countess to chase after him with mild annoyance on their faces. Secondo nodded once toward Terzo before he and Reginetta made their way down the central path of the garden. With your stomach turning into tighter and tighter knots, you and Terzo moved through the left path.

Overhead, a system of fans and misters churned out unnatural mechanical noises, but the building was eerily quiet otherwise. Even with heightened senses you couldn’t hear any extra breathing or footsteps, no tell-tale signs anyone else was in the room with you. The occasional brush of a leaf against Terzo’s ridiculously puffy sleeve was the only sound that stuck out. It didn’t make any sense. The whole plot was designed to lure the Emeritus family here and there’s no way the hunters would’ve left the building empty.

Not even for a second.

The first shot whipped past you, barely missing your face before striking a tree. Before you could think much of it, you found yourself at the other end of the room, moving faster than you ever had. A small, metal cartridge had wedged deeply into the cracked bark, its pointed end breaking off as you worked it free. Inside, a clear liquid sloshed back and forth in a tiny vial.

“Terzo—” You’d barely turned to call out to him when the second shot embedded in your chest. Fire flared in your veins as the paralytic poison began to flood your system. Primo had anticipated this, handing out antidotes and vaccines before anyone left the cottage, but just because it couldn’t poison you didn’t mean it didn’t fucking hurt. You dropped on the spot as the vampire had instructed. Let them think it works, his voice repeated. Let them come to you.

It was easier to see now why Reginetta had been so angry about the stupid plan.

An unfamiliar face appeared over you with a cruel grin. “Aw, did that hurt? Funny how this stuff isn’t as effective on humans, but I hear it burns pretty bad.”

You gritted your teeth, keeping your mouth shut as long as you could. You have surprise on your side now, Draculina. They’ll never expect a turned hunter. Use that in your favor. You scanned the room as the man continued to taunt you, searching for any sign of Terzo.

“Where are the others, huh? I know you’re not stupid enough to come here alone.” He bent down, placing his boot on your chest as he wrenched the cartridge free. Pain radiated from the wound, pulsing in time with the beat of your heart. He tsked, shaking his head. “That won’t be enough.”

“Wha—”

He pressed a blade to your skin and whistled through his teeth, motioning to someone unseen. A dozen hunters silently emerged from the tree line and gathered to watch this man torture you. As Terzo feared, there were some you recognized, but not even one stepped forward to stop the attack. You held out as long as you could, biting down on your tongue to keep from crying out, not wanting to give them a single sliver of power over you. Blood began to pool on the floor beneath you and a tiny, wounded whimper escaped your lips before all that pain was replaced by something else.

The hunter hissed, pulling away to examine the fresh cut he’d accidentally made to his own hand. It took every ounce of strength you had left to stay still. Hunger ripped through you like nothing you’d ever felt before. A painful, consuming white-hot spark that could only be sated by one thing. You dug your nails into your palm, hoping to distract yourself but it was no use. You heard every drop as it moved from his hand and rolled down the knife before landing on the floor. It was so loud, a small insignificant sound made into a tidal wave.

You didn’t hear the others begin to shout as they drew their weapons.

Terzo stood at the edge of the path, his white eye glowing with rage as he stared down your attackers.

“Wha—I thought you shot him!”

“I did!”

“Why won’t you just stay dead?” the first hunter screamed.

“You threatened my family,” Terzo seethed, each step threatening. “You burned my brother’s business, killed his wife—"

“Hey, that wasn’t even us—”

“You set fire to my favorite house,” he growled through gritted teeth. “Reduced my home—my sanctuary—to ash and rubble while forcing us to flee in the middle of the night. You chased us, hunted us down in the city and sent assassins after us. And then you poisoned me and forced one of your own to make an impossible decision. I should tear you all limb from fucking limb for your arrogance. There is no honor among you, not a single shred of dignity spared for one of your own. You don’t even regret what you’ve done to her, what you all forced on her.” 

He cracked a sinister smile. “And now? Now she’s an Emeritus vampire and I’m going to feed all of you to her, piece by fucking piece.”

Your fangs pierced the first hunter’s neck before he could make a sound. The others began to scream and scatter, but Terzo was too fast. In the blink of an eye, the room filled with the sound of bones cracking and pained cries. A dozen bloody bodies lay at your feet, a sacrifice left at your altar by the man you loved.

The hunter hit the ground in a lifeless heap, his blood dripping from your chin as you smiled and reached for another.

“Bellezza?”

You tore through three more hunters before Terzo was able to restrain you.

“I love your enthusiasm, amore,” he purred as you struggled against his hold. “But Primo’s instructions were very clear. We need them alive.”

You turned your head, lips and teeth colliding hard with his just like that first messy kiss in his bedroom. Power rushed through you, fueled by adrenaline and something new—some impulse you didn’t want to control. Hunger. Power. Lust. Want. Need.  It clouded your brain, vision going red as you clawed at Terzo’s clothes and ripped through the fabric of his shirt. You pulled away whatever pieces you could, desperate to feel his skin.

You needed him now, more than you ever thought possible. The two of you tumbled to the floor, knees and elbows landing hard while never letting your lips part. He pivoted his hips and turned to pin you beneath him with a smile.

“Careful, bellezza,” he purred.

“Oh god, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you rushed, conscious thoughts returning in a flood embarrassment and shame. “I—I don’t know what happened.”

“It’s ok, amore mio. It’s ok,” he assured you while petting your hair. “It’s not your fault. I am rather irresistible and you might be, eh, more impulsive during your transition.”

“Impulsive,” you repeated with a laugh. “Fucking is an impulse now?”

His eyebrows knit together. “For you?”

“Don’t answer that.”

“I promise, bellezza, when this is all over—” He trailed off. He froze for a moment, muscles tense as his eyes went blank. His body went slack, collapsing on top of you in a heap of dead weight.

“Terzo?” You nudged him, slightly panicked until you felt him breathe.

He sat up, shaking his head as he came back to himself. “I’m ok, bellezza. But I think we should get to Primo quickly.”

You nodded and draped Terzo’s arm over your shoulder, lifting him as carefully as you could. You pushed through the exhibit door and into the next room, following the path with your head on a swivel. Getting shot with poison darts had felt about as good as you’d expected, and you were in no hurry to let it happen a second time.

As you moved through the building the path leading to the exhibit Primo had pointed out was suspiciously clear. You hoped maybe that was a good sign rather than a bad one, but it wouldn’t surprise if it was some elaborate setup either. The hunters had months or, depending on the size of the operation, possibly years to plan for this. Any part of of the building could be a trap.

You opened the last door to find Primo in the center of the room, hovering over what looked like an altar. Dozens of black candles surrounded him, their flames adding an eerie flicker to his eyes.

“Where the hell have you been?” he hissed as you approached and flew from his spot. He reached out, gripping your jaw as he eyed the blood staining your face. “What did you do?”

Terzo gave him a weak push, urging him away from you. “We were attacked, you ass. Leave her alone.”

“And you?”

“I’m not doing so well. Obviously.” He stumbled toward the odd arrangement in the middle of the room. Strange symbols lined the floor, etched in chalk and what looked like blood. “What the hell have you been doing in here?”

“Preparing, you ass,” Primo snapped back. “Where are the others?”

“How should I know? I thought Copia was with you. What happened to your grand plan—”

“A plan to save you—”

“Yes, and I will be eternally grateful once you stop acting like—”

“Don’t you dare,” Primo warned sharply.

Terzo sighed and rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to Primo’s project. He took a few unsteady steps, mumbling something in disbelief before dropping to his knees. You rushed to his side, but he shrugged off your attempts to help him stand. Instead, he leaned against you and stared forward, eyes fixed on the strange plant with its single white flower at the center of the altar. He began to shake, shoulders heaving as he gasped for breath.

You shouted his name, frantically trying to get him to answer you or at least say anything. His eyes were still full of life as you forced him to look away, but there was a profound sadness behind them you’d yet to see even on Terzo’s worst days. The vampire was crying. It hit you hard, a punch to the gut you didn’t expect as he collapsed against you, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Terzo? What—”

Primo knelt beside the two of you and smoothed a hand over his brother’s hair. “It will be ok, mostriciattolo. Have I ever broken a promise to you?”

He shook his head and cried harder, unable to form the words to answer as he held onto you.

“Primo, what the hell is happening?” you screamed.

He gave you a faint smile and jutted his chin toward the plant. “It’s…it’s a rare species, effectively extinct. Beautiful. Poisonous. It’s loosely related to datura—”

“Primo, I’m not a fucking botanist—”

“It grew around our home,” he interrupted, his voice flat as he stared at nothing. “When Terzo was a child, the grounds were covered in it. By the time we—it was all gone by the time he became a man. Seemingly lost forever.”

There was another untold story in the look they shared, one that spanned centuries and somehow now included you. You held Terzo, hoping to ease his pain or at least offer some form of comfort as he slowly pulled himself back together. With a hard sniff he pulled away from you, tears tracing lines through his paint.

“Mi dispiace, bellezza. I have not seen this flower in a very long time. I was not expecting to see it again—”

There was a rush of footsteps followed by a slamming door. Behind you, the other vampires began to shout as they dragged any and every object they could find toward a makeshift barricade. The door bowed under the force of something outside, a rhythmic thud against solid metal.

“I am going to tear out your eyes so you can watch me pull your head through your ass you little prick,” the Countess seethed, hurling her threats through the door. She leaned against the wall; her right hand pressed over what appeared to be a stab wound. Copia shrugged off his jacket and knelt beside her to hold it against her side.

“By all means, take your time, Primo,” Secondo barked sarcastically and braced himself against the door. “We’re not under attack or anything!”

“Stay close,” Primo muttered as he helped Terzo stand.

“Where would I even go?” Terzo sassed back, his body growing weaker with each step.

“Not you, stronzo.”

“Hardly the time for name calling—”

“Shut up!” he snapped and turned toward the altar. He began to toss various herbs and tinctures into a to-go cup he’d clearly swiped from the botanical garden’s gift shop. There was a familiar smell of ash and rust as the mixture took on the properties of Terzo’s usual antidote. A thick green-black sludge formed as Primo painstakingly stirred and cast a look over his shoulder.

“Is everyone ready?”

“Do we have a choice?” Copia shouted back, grunting as he twisted broken pieces of the door’s metal frame against itself.

“No matter what happens you must keep drinking. You understand fratellino? Do not stop for anything,” Primo warned in a low voice. With a careful hand he plucked the sole flower from the plant and crushed it between his fingers. He began to whisper something in Latin, a chant you couldn’t quite make out and wouldn’t understand even if you could. The flower began to crumble, turning to a pale dust that slowly fell between his fingers and into the cup. He cast one last look at Terzo and smiled. “To your health.”

He downed the contents and dropped to his knees, shoving his arm in Terzo’s face. “Drink.”

“Are you insane?” Terzo hissed.

Primo used the opportunity to jam his wrist against Terzo’s fangs and hold it there. “Drink.”

Whatever argument he wanted to make died in his throat as Primo’s blood spilled into his mouth. He tried to fight him, desperately clawing at his brother’s clothes, but his weakened state was no match for the older vampire. You watched in horror as your lover struggled, his eyes pleading for help. One by one the other vampires began to realize the seriousness of the situation, turning to look as Terzo slammed his feet against the floor in protest.

Whatever you’d been told, whatever parts of the plan you had all tried to understand escaped the room as glass began to shatter. The hunters were no longer trying to get through the blocked door, instead they spilled in from all sides, seeking any entrance to the solarium. The family formed a circle around Primo’s altar, protecting Primo and Terzo from the rapidly approaching violence, but there were more hunters than you could count. As predicted, they had prepared for this on a scale you didn’t think was possible.

“Primo—” You stopped short and gasped as your eyes landed on him. His face was gaunt, skin sagging away from his bones in a way that made him appear almost hollow. He was aging rapidly, withering away as each drop of life passed from his body to Terzo’s. “Oh, fuck.”

The room filled with the sound of hunters readying their weapons, each taking aim at the vampire of their choice.

Terzo finally managed to break his brother’s hold and pushed him away before doubling over. Every muscle in his body flexed and tensed as he tried to crawl away, pushing as hard as he could. With one great heave, a torrent of dark bile spilled from his lips onto the floor as his body rejected the poison. The hunters froze, many with a look of disgust on their faces as the puddle below Terzo grew.

Movement caught the corner of your eye, a blur of white so fast the humans never saw it coming. Shots rang out as the first few dropped, but Primo was too quick. Moving like an unstoppable ferocious predator, he cleared the room of anyone in his path. Secondo and Copia followed his lead, taking out as many hunters as they could while you rushed to Terzo’s side.

He was shaking, soaked in sweat and sick, but he was alive.

“Bello?”

He grinned and reached out to caress your face. “I’m here, bellezza,” he purred as you leaned into his touch. “I’m here. I will always be here.”

“How do you feel?”

His smile grew even wider, almost sinister. “I am starving.”

You smiled back. “Me too.”

Carnage was the only way you could begin to describe what was happening around you. A massacre—no—a battlefield stretched from one end of the room to the other drenched in viscera and severed limbs. Terzo and the others tore through the room, forced to finish a fight that had started centuries ago. The smell of blood and death was clinging to everything, sharpened senses now unable to ignore even the smallest drop. It overwhelmed you, drawing you into the fray as you bit into the first faceless hunter you could reach.

A few feet away, the Countess gave you a thumbs-up with the severed arm of one of her victims.

-x-

The cottage was unnaturally quiet. As quickly as they arrived, the other vampires had disbanded and headed their separate ways, leaving a cluttered and messy house in their wake. You weren’t sure what was going to happen next. You weren’t sure anyone did.

Primo had nearly died trying to save Terzo. That much was clear from the last time anyone had seen him, but his brothers were quick to assure you that Primo could and would take care of himself. For now, you had to let that be enough, but it felt wrong to leave your friend’s home in such a state.

Especially after everything he had done for you.

You went through each room, picking up whatever you could and putting things back together the way Primo normally kept them. There wasn’t much time, but you sensed Terzo understood this was something you needed. He simply kissed your cheek and left to pack up whatever belongings the two of you had accumulated in that little room.

The kitchen wasn’t a complete disaster, but the least you could do was rinse the handful of old coffee mugs resting in the sink. You washed them carefully though the years and dishwasher cycles had been less than kind to any images they once held. You always assumed you would have time to find out what it was about tourist traps that fascinated Primo, but now you weren’t sure how long you’d have to wait.

It wasn’t until you’d put the last mug away that you noticed the letters. Three envelopes had been left on the table, each the same red as Primo’s scuffed slippers. Each addressed carefully in an elaborate script. Terzo. Draculina. Diavolina.

“Hey Terzo?” You called out, a nervous shake to your voice.

He appeared in a blink, bags in hand as he quickly scanned the room for threats.

“Everything’s ok. It’s just…Primo…he left letters.”

“Ah,” Terzo grunted and dropped the suitcases in favor of clutching his chest. “Thank Satanas. I am too full to eat anyone else today. What does the letter say?”

You shrugged and handed him the one with his name before tearing into your own. There wasn’t much, a simple short note expressing a few wishes written in the most impressive penmanship you’d ever seen. “He says not to look for him—”

“Typical.”

“And that he wants to leave the cottage to his friend.”

Terzo made a face. “He has a friend?”

“You missed so much while you were half-dead, huh?” you teased before reading through the letter one more time. “Hey, what’s Villa Majesty?”

“Eh,” he started and sighed heavily, avoiding your eyes. “I don’t think you will like my answer.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It’s a castle…my castle.”

“Your…what? Like a castle, castle?”

“Sì, it is the smaller one.” He offered with a cheeky grin. “But I think you’ll like it there.”

You groaned. “How many houses do you have?”

He shrugged. “You have plenty of time to find out.”

-x-

“Ah, ah, bellezza,” Terzo purred and brushed your hair away from your neck. He placed a kiss on the newly exposed skin before whispering into your ear. “Slowly, my love.”

You resisted the urge to shrug him off and followed his instructions, drawing long, slow pulls from the vampire hunter’s neck. No one ever tasted as good as Terzo, but he was determined to teach you how to make the most of every kill. Though he couldn’t bake to save his life, so far he had been right about fear and desire tasting better than anger.

You suspected he just got off on watching you feed—not that you minded. Your relationship had started covered in blood after all.

The mattress creaked as Terzo pressed even closer, lips returning to your neck. It had only been a month since you arrived at Villa Majesty—a month-long whirlwind honeymoon phase filled with moments like this and various other “vampire lessons” that were thinly veiled excuses for him to get his hands (or lips) on you. But it was easy to let him try to charm you all over again even if he had already won your heart.

“Like this?” you asked, leaning into him as the hunter’s pulse began to stutter. It was pure luck that you’d found this one, or maybe just stupidity on their part. The village below was small and picturesque enough to attract a few tourists, but it was easy enough to spot someone behaving the way you used to. Feeding on humans can with its own set of morality issues, but when it came to anyone who would take down you or your new family without a second thought the decision was much easier.

Terzo hummed against your skin, his hands reaching around you to free the hunter from your grip. You let out a small yelp as he seized you and pulled your further onto the ridiculous bed, your snack and lessons now forgotten. Much like Meliora House, Villa Majesty was also decorated like a fucking wedding cake, but your lover made up for his eccentric taste in furniture by fucking you senseless on any and every surface he could and making post-coital promises about any remodeling the entire place if you wanted.

Honestly, there were worse things than being wrapped in lavender frills and ruffles while being spoiled by an immortal billionaire.

You pawed at his shirt, grabbing fistfuls of the near-transparent fabric between your fingers as you readied yourself to rip it from his body.

“Nooo,” he whined. “Not this one, per favore. I look too good in this.”

“But you look better out of it.”

“Bah! Impossible, bellezza,” he huffed and rose up on his knees to pose. “Look at me!”

“Oh, I am,” you assured him. You pushed yourself up and let your eyes trail over his form slowly, appreciating every inch. It was growing more faint over time, but you reached up and pressed your fingers to the scar on his chest with a small sigh. “Remind me why we even bother to get dressed again?”

It was his turn to sigh. “Omega and Alpha’s rules.”

“Ah, yes the demonic bodyguards who were tired of seeing your cock.”

His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward and took your wrists in his hands. In one quick motion he pinned you to the bed and hovered over you. “No one has ever tired of my cock, bellezza.”

“Hmm, it is quite nice. Is that why you showed it to me the second I walked into your house?”

“If it works, it works.”

“Terzo?”

“Amore?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said with a grin and bent down to kiss you. “Ugh, ok, ok, you can tear it off me—just this once.”

He released your hands and sat back to allow you better access. He was right he did look good like this, but his cock was tenting in his pants and straining against the fabric and that was a look you preferred to any other. You ran your hands over his chest and began the delicate task of carefully slipping each of the buttons free. He groaned at the pace of your work, breath hitching any time you touched the slightest bit of skin. Teasing Terzo had become a favorite pastime of yours over the last few weeks, watching him barely maintain his composure as you found the balance between your heightened senses and his own. He could easily overpower you if he wanted and some days it was more fun to encourage that, but with your appetite sated all you could think about was having him take you slowly.

“Terzo?” You asked as you pushed open his shirt to press a kiss against his stomach. “Make love to me?”

“Every single day for eternity, amore,” he promised with a sly smile. He shook the gauzy shirt from his shoulders and cast it aside, no longer caring about its price tag or the way he looked in it. He eased you onto your back and pushed your knees apart, leveling his face with your sex and the stupidly expensive, but admittedly sexy panties he’d procured for your new wardrobe.

He hooked his thumbs in the waistband and slowly slid them down your legs before stuffing them in the pocket of his tightening pants. He wasted no time burying his face in your cunt and letting his tongue dance a dizzying rhythm across your sensitive nerves. With a firm grip on his hair, you encouraged and praised him letting the man you loved completely take you apart. He held you down with one hand and used the other to tease and slide his fingers into your entrance, working to coax an orgasm out of you.

As you teetered on the edge of intense pleasure, he bit into the inside of your thigh and moaned loudly. At the same time you let go, your body tensing around his fingers as he drank from you. If it wasn’t for how painfully hard he must have been, you thought he could stay there for the rest of his life. Instead, he pushed your knees to your chest and kicked his pants across the room. He pressed into you slowly, eyes closed as he bit his own lip bloody.

“Bellezza, do you see what you do to me?”

You raised your head and watched your bodies connect, sighing with relief as he filled you. “Fuck,” you whispered, hands already grasping at the sheets. “Do you see what you do to me?”

When he was fully seated inside you, he stilled his hips and bent down to press a kiss to your forehead, letting you keen beneath him. Your revenge came as you nipped his throat and let out a particularly lascivious moan as his blood dripped onto your tongue.

“No fair, bella. Do you want me to make love to you or do you want me to fuck you?”

“Both,” you replied with a grin and raised your hips. “They can be the same thing. Especially when you taste this good.”

“Temptress,” he purred and began a torturous rhythm with his hips.

“Vampire,” you shot back, meeting each thrust.

He growled and bit into your neck, drinking from you as his pace picked up. The vibration of his low moans melted into your own, rattling through your chest as you neared your release. He was so loud, alternating between fucking and drinking and moaning while the bed shifted beneath you. You loved him like this, loved to see him so desperately in love with you that he almost couldn’t stand it. You told him so as he pounded into you with a ferocity that drew sounds from your throat Omega would probably leave a note about later.

Terzo’s fingers found their way back to your center as he pulled off your neck and leaned up to watch you come undone. And you did, your bliss hitting you hard in intense waves that washed over you. No one had ever fucked you like he could; no one had ever loved you as he did. No one else ever would.

He cried out, stilling his hips as he reached his own end and spilled inside you. He gasped for air, burying his face in your neck as he came down. The two of you lay like that for a while, twisted up and consumed by your love for each other.

A soft knock broke the silence of the bedroom. Terzo offered you a lazy smile and rolled off the bed, taking the sheet with him. He tucked it around his waist before opening the door a crack to reveal a slightly nervous Omega.

“Uh…sorry to disturb you…but you told me— “

Terzo threw open the door. “Is it here?”

Omega yelped and covered his eyes with his hand. He shoved a small package toward Terzo with the other hand before running down the hallway while shouting, “boundaries people!”

Terzo just shrugged and closed the door. You rolled onto your stomach to watch him rip into the cardboard box, curious to see what was so important it disturbed such a soft moment. The vampire smiled brightly as he walked toward you.

“You have no idea how hard this was to find, bellezza.”

You furrowed your brow. “What is it?”

He winked and handed you the box. Packed neatly and carefully inside was the same vintage hockey sweater you’d once owned, your favorite team’s colors still pristine and bright. Another smaller velvet box sat in the middle of their emblem. You blinked up at him, but he just shrugged and gestured for you to open that one as well.

The next time your eyes met he was on one knee, still wrapped in the sheet.

“Is this why you didn’t want me to rip your shirt?”

“I was trying to create a moment, bellezza.”

You slid off the bed and walked over to him, gently caressing his face. “I think you proposing naked is still a moment, bello. Better than your silly movies.”

He smiled softly. “Will you marry me, amore mio?”

“Yes,” you replied with a nod, tears filling your eyes. “Of course I will, you idiot.”

Thank you to everyone who waited patiently and cheered me on while I tried to complete this story. Your comments kept me going through some really tough times and I can't thank you enough.

I'd like to thank @ramblingoak for holding my hand for the past YEAR and being just the best fucking friend through everything. Suck Club would not exist without you. Thank you. 💜

here's more stuff from me // my ko-fi info

[reaper2187]

Daniela x servant female reader

The grand halls of Castle Dimitrescu echoed with an eerie silence, the kind that enveloped the senses and made every creak and whisper stand out starkly against the otherwise oppressive quiet. The dim light of flickering torches cast long, dancing shadows on the ancient stone walls, giving the castle an almost alive and breathing quality. Daniela Dimitrescu, the youngest and most tempestuous of the Dimitrescu daughters, prowled through these halls with a restless energy. Her fiery hair cascaded around her pale face, and her eyes glinted with a mix of mischief and hunger.

Daniela paused at the doorway of the library, a room she frequented less often than her sisters, but tonight was different. She could sense something—or rather, someone—inside that intrigued her. She pushed the heavy wooden door open with a soft creak and stepped inside, her gaze immediately falling on Y/N.

Y/N was a new servant, having arrived only a few weeks prior. Despite her position, there was something about her that caught Daniela's attention from the very first moment. Perhaps it was the way Y/N carried herself with quiet confidence, or the way she seemed unafraid to meet Daniela's piercing gaze head-on. Tonight, Y/N was seated at a large oak desk, engrossed in a thick tome. The firelight from the nearby hearth bathed her in a warm, golden glow, highlighting the soft curves of her face and the strands of hair that fell across her brow.

Daniela watched her for a moment, a slow smile spreading across her lips. She moved silently, her footsteps making no sound on the plush carpet as she approached. When she was mere inches away, she leaned down, her breath brushing against Y/N's ear.

"Enjoying a bit of light reading, are we?" Daniela's voice was a low, seductive purr.

Y/N started slightly, her heart racing at the sudden closeness. She turned her head, her eyes locking onto Daniela's. "Lady Daniela," she said, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her chest. "I didn't hear you come in."

Daniela's smile widened. "That's because I didn't want you to," she replied, straightening up and walking around to the other side of the desk. She perched on the edge, her gaze never leaving Y/N's face. "What are you reading?"

Y/N glanced down at the book in her lap. "Just some old legends and folklore," she said. "I find them fascinating."

"Do you?" Daniela said, tilting her head. "And what, pray tell, do you find so fascinating about them?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then said, "They often contain a grain of truth. Even the most outlandish tales have some basis in reality."

Daniela chuckled, a low, throaty sound. "Spoken like someone who knows the truth can be far stranger than fiction." She leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. "Tell me, Y/N, do you believe in monsters?"

Y/N held her gaze. "I've seen enough in this castle to know that monsters are very real," she said softly.

Daniela's smile turned predatory. "Indeed," she said. She reached out, tracing a finger along Y/N's jawline. "And are you afraid of them?"

Y/N swallowed hard, the touch sending a shiver down her spine. "No," she whispered. "I'm not afraid."

Daniela's eyes darkened with a mix of amusement and desire. "Brave words," she said. "But bravery can be a dangerous thing, especially here."

Y/N straightened, meeting Daniela's gaze with determination. "I know the risks," she said. "And I'm willing to face them."

Daniela's expression softened slightly, a flicker of something almost like admiration in her eyes. "You're an interesting one, Y/N," she said. "Most of the servants here cower in fear. But not you."

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest. "I… I don't see the point in living in fear," she said. "Life is too short for that."

Daniela's smile returned, but this time it was less predatory and more contemplative. "You intrigue me, Y/N," she said. "I think I'll keep you around for a while longer."

Y/N felt a strange mix of relief and apprehension at those words. She knew that being in Daniela's favor could be both a blessing and a curse. But as Daniela stood up and turned to leave, Y/N couldn't help but feel a spark of something else—something that felt dangerously close to excitement.

"Goodnight, Y/N," Daniela said, pausing at the doorway to glance back at her. "I'll be seeing you."

Y/N watched her go, her mind racing. She knew that Daniela was dangerous, unpredictable, and utterly captivating. And despite the risks, she found herself looking forward to their next encounter.

The following days passed in a blur of routine and tension. Y/N went about her duties with a heightened awareness, always sensing Daniela's presence even when she couldn't see her. It was as if the young Dimitrescu daughter was always watching, always waiting.

One evening, as Y/N was cleaning the grand hall, she felt that familiar prickling sensation on the back of her neck. She turned around to find Daniela leaning against the wall, watching her with an inscrutable expression.

"You're quite diligent," Daniela remarked, her voice breaking the silence.

Y/N straightened up, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I try to be," she said. "It's important to do one's job well."

Daniela pushed off the wall and walked over to her, her gaze intense. "And do you enjoy your work, Y/N?"

Y/N hesitated, then said, "It's challenging, but rewarding in its own way."

Daniela stopped in front of her, so close that Y/N could feel the heat radiating from her body. "I think you could find greater rewards elsewhere," Daniela said softly. "If you were willing to take a risk."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat. "What kind of risk?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Daniela reached out, cupping Y/N's face in her hand. "A risk worth taking," she said, her eyes dark with promise. "Come with me, Y/N. Let me show you what real power feels like."

Y/N felt a thrill of fear and excitement. She knew that following Daniela could lead to unimaginable danger, but there was something about the young vampire that called to her, something she couldn't resist.

"I… I'll come with you," Y/N said, her voice trembling slightly.

Daniela's smile was triumphant. "Good," she said. "You won't regret it."

As Daniela led her deeper into the castle, Y/N couldn't help but wonder what she had gotten herself into. But one thing was certain: life with Daniela would be anything but ordinary. And as she looked at the fiery-haired vampire beside her, Y/N felt a strange sense of anticipation, a feeling that whatever lay ahead, she was ready to face it head-on.

[ayyyez]

Headcanons on shisui, minato, and Yamato on how they'd react to their s/o (civilian shinobi or otherwise:)) getting attacked and almost dying? 😭 need the agnst in my life rn I love ur work ur iconic uwu

A/N: the angsssst! but it's okay I love angst it's what I do haha but mostly as long as it has a happy ending because we deserve that as a treat as do they. And aw thanks sm!

TAGS: angst, reader attacked/almost dies, sad characters, mini scenarios rather than headcanons, mentions of hospitals, mentions of wounds, mentions of being impaled, no graphic injuries, characters blaming themselves, long post under cut

CHARACTERS: Shisui Uchiha, Minato Namikaze, Yamato

SHISUI UCHIHA

Shisui is usually the calm and collected one no matter the situation. He can take out any enemy. Always has a plan and can lighten any situation with a lighthearted quip should it call for it.

But this, oh god nothing can prepare him for this.

You're not supposed to be able to get hit. Your entire jutsu is supposed to be impenetrable. More so than that, he's supposed to be your eyes in case things go wrong, your back up.

The enemy found a weak spot though—pulled a thread in the seam everything falls apart right in front of him.

Shisui feels so powerless as he calls your name.

'I've got you.' He says, catching you just before you hit the ground.

He ducks for cover as kunai come at him from all sides. The rest of the squad focus on the guy who got you. Taking down the rest of the enemies is a sinch in comparison. He can't even think about anything else except getting you out and alive.

When he makes it through the thick of the trees he feels you tremble in his arms.

'Shisui.' You call his name, same as you have a thousand times before but this time it's so quiet, almost ghostly.

Shisui is terried to look down but he has to. He can't let you down by betraying his fears. He needs to make you feel safe.

'H-hey.' He doesn't mean to let his voice slip and tremble as he sees how you don't look so good. 'It's going to be alright. We're almost there.'

You manage a nod.

By the time he makes it to the medics you begin to fade and he panics. They take you off his hands and into the tent to tend to your wounds.

Shisui spends the whole time pacing outside pale as a ghost.

He can't sit or stand still. He's a jolting mess. He can barely accept the water or food offered to him by his comrades.

It's the longest wait of his life waiting for you to wake up.

'Shisui.' Is the first thing you say as you come to.

He cries he's so overcome with emotion. Takes your hand and drops his face against it. Poor Shisui is so exhausted and has been so scared he just loves you so much.

MINATO NAMIKAZE

Guilt overwhelms Minato as he sits in the hospital room waiting for you to wake up.

He wasn't there when you had been injured because he held so much faith in your ability to hold your own and now he can't help but blame himself for being so carless. He should have been there. He should have been with you.

It's not that now he believes you can't handle yourself, it's that he should have been there anyway. Anyone can slip up. Anything can happen. This is proof of that and he knows that now.

If he could go back and do things differently— 

No it's too late for that. He would do right and better by you now.

He stays by your side each day waiting for you to wake up. He speaks to you, tells you little things about each day that are trivial but also deep things like how much he cares for you.

'I'm sorry.' He whispers, stroking your hand. 'I love you, I'll be here when you wake up.'

He lets go of your hand and walks over to the window to look out onto the village below.

Everything seems smaller, holds less meaning without you here awake beside him. It's like something is missing. He's no longer quite whole.

There's a stiring behind him and Minato turns wide eyed to find you coming to.

He can't quite believe it when your eyes flutter open.

'Mmm.' You groan. 'Damn that hurts.'

A soft chuckle escapes him and then a few tears too. Just a flood of relief hits at the signs of you being there.

Then you turn to him, a little more awake.

'Hey.' You say. 'What are you doing all the way over there, huh?'

And that's all it takes for him to just crowd you in the tightest (but also careful) hug.

'I'm so glad you're awake.' He whispers. 'I'm so sorry.'

'Don't be sorry.' You assure him. 'I'm glad you're here though.'

He pulls away and looks you deep in the eyes. 'I love you.'

It's enough to take your breath away. 'I love you, too.'

YAMATO

The image of you jumping in front of him to protect him is something Yamato will never forget. He's not sure he can forgive you for it either if you don't wake up.

He knows neither of you had a choice but— 

Seeing you there impaled is just not something he can ever forgive.

You should have let it hit him. Village be damned he'd rather—okay he would not rather hundreds of other people die instead of you getting injured but that's besides the point! He should never of had to see you that way. If you didn't worm your way into his life and make him care then— 

Oh who is he kidding.

Yamato could never be mad at you.

He's mad at himself. He should never have agreed to put you in this situation in the first place. There should have been a better strategy. He should have thought up a better strategy.

'It was an impossible situation, stop beating yourself up over it and just be there instead.'

Yamato lifts his head.

'Kakashi.' He balls his fists against his pants then sighs unfurling them. 'I know it's just—'

'Just that you think you could have strategised yourself out of an impossible situation now that it's over.'

'This is different.'

'It's always different with the people we care about.' He gives him a knowing expression. 'With the people we love.'

'I don't need a pep talk right now.'

'No but you also don't need to sit here waiting for someone to scold you like you've done something wrong.'

Yamato gives him a doubtful look.

'You both did your duty and what you wanted to do so now you ought to both be together for the waking up part.' Kakashi sighs. 'Neither of you are dying today.'

Yamato takes a deep breath letting it settle in his lungs before he exhales again. Kakashi was right. He needs to be by your side.

'Okay.' Is all he says before he stands and heads to your room, leaving his senpai behind.

The tension is palpable as he enters your room. The machines beeping and your assisted breathing fill his ears. He sits beside you timid as he shifts closer.

'Sorry, I took so long.' Is all he whispers as he wakes for you to wake.

Your eyes flicker open a few moments later as if to let him know it's alright. He's not mad anymore, only relieved. Loved.

[film-in-my-soul]

A Well-Ordered Love Story by Dira Sudis (dsudis) / @dsudis

2 Part Series | Rated T-E | Total Words: 8,635

Part 1 Summary: Dream E. tipped well—absurdly well, sometimes, which was probably because Hob actually obeyed all the notes about things like Do not buy apples without sending a picture of them, I will tell you which I want and No other brand is an acceptable substitute on items like Sainsbury's own-brand custard creams. He would order half a dozen of the exact same frozen meal every week for months, then switch to a different one and be just as obsessed with it. There was only one kind of honey he would accept in one size jar. Hob knew probably not only how he took his tea but how many cups of it he drank every day; he was forever forgetting to order teabags and then texting Hob at the last minute to add a box. Hob had taken to adding "Do you need tea?" to the standard "This is Robert G. and I'm shopping your grocery order" text.

Complex Maths by cuubism / @cuubism

6 Part Series | Rated T-E | Total Words: 18,941

Part 1 Summary: Dream is beautiful and brilliant and completely insufferable, and Hob is so into him it hurts.

Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs by Moorishflower / @moorishflower

2 Part Series | Rated E | Total Words: 19,319

Part 1 Summary: You are always welcome," Hob had said, with such warmth in his voice that Dream had listed towards him like a pale fern grown in darkness, starved for the sun. "Any time, day or night. My home is your home." After the Dream Vortex, after Desire, after the Corinthian, Dream is drawn back to warmth, and comfort, and safety, to Hob.

Please see below for more recommendations!

We Will Be Enough by Kavute / @mashumaru

2 Part Series | Rated T-M | Total Words: 24,862

Part 1 Summary: He will never wake up. “You may stay here, Robert Gadling, or you may leave to the Sunless Lands with my sister.”  Is there really a choice? Would anyone ever choose otherwise? Hob falls to his knees, bows his head, slowly, ever so slowly reaches out his hand and takes the hand of the person before him. No, not a person, he thinks as soon as their skin touch, he must a god. Robert brings his hand to his lips, and places them on his knuckles. It’s a promise, an oath, a declaration. “Allow me to stay, sire.” 

The Wine-Dark Sea (Siren!AU) by Moorishflower / @moorishflower

7 Part Series | Rated T-E | Total Words: 40,611

Part 1 Summary: Hob Gadling lets his lover practice his needlework on him. He's also been shot three times, which is rather part of it, but a little bit less important at the moment than a creature with tentacles helpfully digging out the bullets and trying to sew him shut again.

Hallmark 'verse by Moorishflower / @moorishflower

3 Part Series | Rated E | Total Words: 42,709

Part 1 Summary: "So, what's the thing that makes you poor company, stranger?" Morpheus opens his mouth -- it is none of your business, my heart is broken, I am contemplating going home and committing suicide because I am clearly and patently not designed to be loved in any meaningful way -- but is interrupted by Hob's cheerful continuation, "Because I've just been dumped by my girlfriend of two years."

Fuckboi Hob by dancinbutterfly / @dancinbutterfly & Moorishflower / @moorishflower

2 Part Series | Rated M-E | Total Words: 55,855

Part 1 Summary: Kids like this don't make themselves. He narrows his eyes and looks at the man, who could probably have him disappeared a dozen ways with nothing but a text, and weighs his options. He can feel Morpheus still shaking and decides - fuck it - and chooses violence. "You can call me Hob, Tim, and all you need to know is your son calls me Daddy, too."

They're Husbands, Your Honor by Moorishflower / @moorishflower

6 Part Series | Rated | Total Words: 63,545

Part 1 Summary: 'Would that we were married,' Hob thinks unkindly. 'If we were married I could give you a shake and not have to worry about chasing you off for another century.'

Master Reclist · Personal Masterlist · Blog Nav.

[magnifythesun]

Absolutely loved ur latest prompt about Anthony picking Ian up and how you stick true to their characters it feels too realistic. On that note, since I'm an avid fan of protective worried Anthony, would you pls write something with Ian passing out while filming and Anthony hyperventilating over it.

aaaa this prompt has had my mind spinning since I first read it I'm so hyped to write it! and thank you soooo much, I tried really hard to keep their voices realistic in that one and I'm honestly very happy with the way it turned out! I'm so glad you enjoyed!! :D

(post-writing note: this turned out way more comfort than hurt lol, but it was just too cute to resist!)

It was a rager of a hot day in southern California. They were filming their latest sketch, which was unfortunately entirely outside, and were eager to just get the thing done.

"Should we take a break?" Anthony asked, "It's been a few hours out here, and this heat's really killing me."

"Let's just finish up this scene," Ian said wearily, his face slightly red from the sun.

Anthony nodded in agreement and turned to tell the crew to set the cameras at another angle.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ian suddenly drop like a sack of potatoes, one second standing, then not. It was almost like a bit. It would have been funny, except that the way he ragdolled to the floor sent a horrid chill through Anthony. That was not the way someone fell on purpose, for comedy or otherwise. Anthony turned.

"Ian?" He said, distantly.

Erin was already running toward him, holding her huge water bottle. "Someone bring a sheet!" She called over to the crew, who, behind the sudden haze in Anthony's vision, were little blobs scurrying to and fro, some toward Ian, others running toward the house.

Anthony stumbled over. "What happened?" Erin glanced up at him. "Is he all right?" Her eyes widened at the way he was swaying on his feet.

"Don't you pass out too!" Erin snapped, voice tight with worry. "Go sit down." She waved toward the shade by the house.

"But, Ian," Anthony started. He swept his eyes over his friend, who was starting to stir. Ian's eyelids flickered, then opened as he started to wake up.

"Ow," He groaned, raising a hand up to clutch at his forehead. "Oh wow, my head hurts really bad."

"Like you hit it?" Erin asked sharply, then looked back up at Anthony. "Anthony. Go sit down."

Anthony took an involuntary step backward from the command in her tone alone, then kept backing up until his back hit the side of the house. Tears jumped to his eyes, and he knew in that moment he needed to get out of sight. He went inside the house, ignoring the way different members of the crew were reaching out to him, worry in their voices, and headed straight to the bathroom. Closing the door, he sank to the ground immediately, trying to breathe.

His breath was tight in his throat, like a great beast had a hold on his neck and was squeezing him. The sensation traveled down to his chest, causing him to gasp quick, shallow breaths as he tried to wipe away his tears.

Was Ian alright out there? His mind was spiraling as he desperately sucked in little gasps of air. He had just left him there, too wrapped up in his own frightened reaction to comfort his friend. A pang of guilt burned bright in his chest. He had to get this under control and he had to get back out there.

Anthony focused and started his yoga breathing routine that he used every time he exercised. Slowly, slowly, he controlled his breathing. He stood up shakily, and glanced in the mirror, making sure to wipe the tears from his eyes. There was nothing he could do about how pale he looked, or how red-rimmed his eyes were.

He took one more deep breath and pulled open the door to the bathroom. Walking out, he could hear many voices in the kitchen, which was out of sight. Sounded like most of the crew had taken shelter from the sun in there.

Anthony turned toward the living room and startled. Ian was sitting there, a wet rag on his head and Erin's big bright blue bottle of water clutched in his hands. Anthony felt his breath catch in his chest again.

Anthony walked over to him. "Hey, man. You feeling okay?"

Ian smiled guiltily up at him. "Well, better now," He glanced up at Anthony towering above him and patted the couch cushion next to him. Anthony sat. "I should have called a break sooner. I could tell it was getting to me."

"You don't need to push yourself that hard," Anthony said quietly.

"True," Ian's mouth quirked. "Plus the crew deserved a break too." Ian stared off in the direction of the kitchen for a moment. "Are you alright?" He asked quietly, fingers shifting on the pastel surface of the bottle.

Anthony grimaced. "Yeah, I'm good."

Ian turned to look at him, a sharp look in his eye. "Uh-huh."

Anthony intently examined the table in front of the couch. "You saw?"

Ian took a big gulp of water. "I may have just woken up from the consequences of my own hubris, but I, I caught a glimpse."

"Sorry," Anthony said quietly, "I really don't know what came over me."

Ian didn't say anything for a moment, just slurped another sip of water. Anthony couldn't look at him. Then, Anthony felt Ian's hand, cold from the surface of the bottle, rest on top of his own hand and squeeze slightly.

"Always good to know you care." Ian said lightly, the veneer of a joke over his words, but the slight drag of his thumb over the back of Anthony's hand emphasized his words.

Relief and affection rushed through him, and Anthony glanced at Ian. "Your head okay though?"

"When is my head ever okay?" Ian laughed, "But yeah, I didn't hit it. Water?" He lifted the bottle and offered it.

"God, yeah." Anthony took it with the hand that wasn't still covered by Ian's and took a long, refreshing drink. "I can't believe we still have to go back out in that to finish filming."

"Ugh, don't even remind me," Ian groaned.

Right then, Erin's voice called from the kitchen, "Alright, back out there to shoot in ten minutes!"

Various shouts of "Heard!" echoed around the house, accompanied by several grumbles.

"I gotta lay my poor heat-stricken head down for a few minutes before we head back out there," Ian said.

"Oh okay," Anthony said, preparing to get up to let him lay down, when Ian just tilted his head slightly to rest it on Anthony's shoulder. Anthony stilled, his breath catching for the nth time today.

"I'm gonna try to visualize myself in the Arctic," Ian mumbled, "Quiet on set."

Anthony tried to not shake his shoulders as he laughed. "Alright, alright. Make sure to get back from your polar expedition in ten."

Anthony let himself rest his eyes too, the warmth of Ian's hand and head soothing the last of his rattled nerves.

[scoops-aboy86]

The aftermath. I'm not sure how many more parts to this story there will be, but at least a couple.

Anyway, Eddie Munson lives, baby!

Part 1, part 1.5, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 of the love spell no go au

Scrying isn’t something Eddie has delved into much but he knows a scrying plane when he sees one. The shallow water beneath his feet ripples out with every step, echoing out into infinity. He can hear hundreds of thousands of voices whispering just on the edge of hearing, too quiet to make out, and pinches the inside of his wrist to see if this is a bad dream he can simply wake up from. 

… Nope. 

There’s nothing to see and nowhere to go, but he tries. He picks a direction and walks for a long time. 

A very long time. Until—

“Eddie?”

He whips around, and a girl who may or may not have been there a minute ago regards him with big, tired eyes. Younger than him. Shaved head. 

“That’s me,” he replies warily. “Are you… the party’s Supergirl?” Dustin had said something about her losing her powers, but she must have found them again to be here. 

She smiles a little at that, a small but genuine thing. “I’m Eleven. You can call me El, or Jane.”

“El-or-Jane it is,” Eddie replies with a bow, and that one earns him a laugh. 

“You are funny,” she tells him. “I’m glad my friends in Hawkins had you to help them.”

When Eddie goes to protest that she has it backwards, they’d helped him, El informs him that his ripcord spell had killed Vecna. She’d been in his mindscape when the others’ attack on the dark wizard had begun, the red hell dissolving around her, putting her out of range while Eddie was casting. But Vecna, through his hive mind connection with the bats, had been front and center, and it had zapped him like a bug flying into a light bulb. Enough for whatever power had kept him alive through the ravages of interdimensional travel and decay and being set on fire to be snuffed out. 

El had hurt him, and his physical body had died of the burns from Robin and Steve’s Molotovs and bullets from Nancy’s sawed-off, but it was Eddie who struck the final blow. Otherwise, Vecna might have crashed through that window onto the front yard below and still gotten up again to slink off, lick his wounds, and continue his assault on the Right Side Up. 

“I think we use our powers very differently,” El tells him thoughtfully, and isn’t that just the understatement of the goddamn year. “I don’t understand what you did, or how, but… thank you.” 

Eddie is uncomfortable being thanked, when all he did was run and then pin all his hopes on one last-ditch effort. He jams his hands deep in his pockets and rocks back on his heels, sending out more ripples to nowhere. “Yeah, well… It’s been a hell of a week, all I want to do now is get some fucking sleep.”

El looks perplexed by this, then firm as she shakes her head and holds out her hand. “You have been asleep for long enough. I promised Steve I would bring you back.”

And, okay. Eddie isn’t really one for taking the hands of strange children (he’s in his twenties now, fifteen-ish is a child, shut up) and letting them lead him around, but he thinks he’d do just about anything for Steve. 

Seeing Eddie’s eyes flutter open sends a shock of electricity through Steve. He barely remembers to give El the tissue waiting in his hand before swooping in to scoop up one of Eddie’s with both of his, enveloping pale fingers while careful not to jostle the iv line connected to his wrist. “Eds? Eddie? You with us, man?”

And when those eyes settle on him immediately upon focusing, like Eddie had already known where to find him, Steve feels that zing again only stronger. 

“Mm,” Eddie croaks in agreement. 

Robin is at Steve’s elbow, already handing him the bowl of ice chips (all Eddie is allowed right now) so he can spoon a few pieces in through chapped lips. 

“Eddie,” Dustin says tearfully, and Mike and Will have to immediately restrain him from tackling the guy who just came out of a fucking coma in a relieved hug. 

Steve holds Eddie’s hand again while he sucks on the ice and Nancy goes to let hospital staff know that he’s awake. 

It’s a few more days until Eddie can stay awake long enough to really talk, and a few more after that before he starts remembering the answers to the questions he keeps asking. 

“Is Dustin okay?”

Broken leg, but it’ll heal. 

“What about Max?”

Two broken legs and two broken arms, but she’s already been discharged in casts and a wheelchair. She’s staying with the Sinclairs so she isn’t home alone while her mom’s at work. 

“Did we win?”

Vecna’s dead, the three gates closed, and the Upside Down sealed away for good. Plus, they didn’t lose anyone this time; Hopper is even back from the dead. So yeah, it’s a win. 

“Do people still want to kill me?”

Jason Carver had been arrested for assaulting Lucas, which had lost him a lot of standing with the town. (Not all of it though, so not nearly enough as far as Steve is concerned.) He’s now the lead suspect for the attempt on Max’s life, and it turns out that his only solid alibi for Chrissy and Fred’s murders had been Patrick. Eddie is still known as the local freak, but he’s at least no longer wanted for multiple murders. 

“Where’s Wayne?”

Sometimes Mr. Munson is there to take this one, but most times, like today, Steve has had to explain that he’s working a shift at the plant. But he knows that Eddie’s alive and innocent and going to be okay, and he’s already planning to visit again as soon as he clocks out. 

“It’s really over?”

Steve answers all of these, like he has before, and holds Eddie’s hand while he processes everything all over again like it’s the first time. It’s not Eddie’s fault; they’ve had him on a lot of pain meds. 

“… I’ve asked this before, haven’t I?”

That’s new. Steve nods, then closes his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. And lets it out, finally. “I am so goddamn mad at you. I told you not to be a hero. What the fuck about that did you not understand? And then you went and nearly died.”

The look Eddie gives him is the clearest it’s been all week, sad and unsettlingly resigned. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“You’re—” Steve stops, presses his lips into a thin line, pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “Sorry? That’s it?”

Eddie looks down at their still-joined hands like he doesn’t understand why Steve still wants to touch him. He feels so fragile and washed out against the white of the hospital bed and the pale hospital gown, a nasal cannula holding back his limp and unwashed curls where it hooks over his ears. “What do you want me to say?”

“That you’ll never do it again,” Steve replies, the words immediate and hot on his tongue. “Shouldn’t be too hard, it’s not like there are any more dark wizards or demon bats to chew half your skin off.”

He almost feels bad at how Eddie’s big eyes seem to get bigger, and definitely wetter at the corners. But he’s got his own bites, itching like crazy as they heal beneath the bandages hidden by his polo, and he’s been sitting in this hospital chair for what feels like forever while Eddie was in his coma. His back twinges when he moves, and he hasn’t been sleeping well, not even when Robin stays over. Everything feels uncomfortable and stressful and this idiot almost died and he can’t, absolutely cannot go through it again. Ever. 

“Steve, I… I won’t, I just… I was stupid and forgot about the vents. I wasn’t trying to be a hero, I just wanted to fix what I fucked up.”

“Well you are,” Steve manages to say, despite his throat feeling increasingly tight and his own eyes starting to feel hot. He wipes at them roughly. “A fucking hero, I mean. You ended it. Butthead,” he adds, giving Eddie’s hand a tight squeeze. 

That is what makes Eddie’s eyes spill over with a wet little sound sneaking out between his lips. “It was the ripcord spell. I ended everything. So… you’re mad, I get it, and if you don’t want to be friends anymore—”

“Of course I don’t want to be friends,” Steve interrupts. “I want to date you, you idiot. I told you that already.”

“But the love spell—”

“Fuck the love spell. Maybe it made me fall in love with you one time, but I fall for you all over again every time I see you, Eds. So when you’re healed up enough, I’m going to put you in a wheelchair and push you to the hospital cafeteria so we can have our first official date over the shittiest food in the known universe, and the only thing that’ll stop me in said universe is if you don’t want to.”

Eddie stares at him for a moment, a wonderful hope going from spark to steady glow in his expression. “Are you going to let me finish a sentence on this date?”

Steve smirks, but behind the mask of confidence he has the same wonderful relief welling up in his chest and he’s not actually sure he’s hiding it well. “Play your cards right, and sure.”

He’s never seen a brighter smile than the one Eddie aims at him. And yeah, Eddie is frail and scarred and still connected to a worrying amount of beeping hospital equipment, but he’s also just beautiful. “Then I accept, big boy. It’s a date.”

Tag list (comment to be added): @hotluncheddie @8em-em-em8 @anaibis @connected-dots @lawrencebshoggoth

Part 10, part 11

[asterefflores]

Hello!

How are you?

I Just wanted to say that your story truly touches my soul and i love it sooooo much 😭♥️

And one more thing ...

It's kinda a reaction but can I know what happens If:

Cale and rok soo have a little argument with each other but it gets so bad and Cale snaps and shouts at Rok soo :

"I wish you were never my brother from the start and even if you ever were I wish i hadn't made that deal to change our places to see you again!!"

I wanna know what the twins and others reaction is..

You know.. it has been running like shit in my head...

And.. Can I have some fan arts about it please?

I'm sorry If it's too much of a request 😭😭

Glad you're loving and enjoying my fanfic 🌸🌸

As for the requested fight, I'm sorry I don't feel like drawing it *cough* but I did write a mini- or I think it's the average length for a single novel chapter? lol anyway I wrote a chapter for you I guess, I'm guessing it's based on Cale and RokSoo in my fanfic, right? Otherwise it would probably turn out differently, cuz my Cale here is stable(?) and I can't add too much angst into the fight without being realistic to their characters in my fanfic lol but here it is, hope you enjoy it.

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

“I wish…”

Rok-Soo observed as Cale before him sighed quietly with his eyes covered as he rested his forehead on his palm. The air around the younger redhead made everyone tense up.

“…I wish…”

“…Cale?” Rok-Soo slightly frowned as Cale's voice grew weaker and more weary.

“I wish you were never my brother from the start…”

“……”

It was barely audible, but everyone seemed to have heard the whisper coming from none other than Cale.

“I wish you were never my brother from the start…and even if you ever were, I wish I hadn’t accepted the deal to change our places to see you again…”

The room was so silent it was hard to tell if anyone was even breathing.

Rok-Soo’s face remained the same, looking long at Cale, whose eyes were still hidden behind his pale hand.

“I see,” His calm voice nearly echoed in the room after the heavy silence. He nodded as he pushed himself to his feet calmly. “I’ll let Ron pack everything for me and leave tonight. I’ll be in Super Rock Villa.” He heard a quiet sound like a scoff from the other.

“I don’t see why you need to tell me where you’re staying at—”

“I’ll be in Super Rock Villa, Cale.”

“……”

Seeing as Cale fell silent, Rok-Soo turned to the others in the room, glancing at the Henituse family, and they silently turned to leave the room, their eyes lingering on the younger redhead, who was still in the same position in his seat beside the window.

Rok-Soo carried the worried Ohn and Hong in his arms with Raon around his shoulders and looked at Ron’s stiff face, receiving a nod, and the old butler got to work immediately.

Cale sat still, staring at his lap, as the sounds of everybody else around him faded until he was left with only the sound of a single person standing at his door.

“Eat and rest well.”

That was the last thing he heard before the quiet sound of the door closing behind Rok-Soo. The faint click strangely sounded loud in the silent room.

He was all alone, feeling like a ghost in his own room. He barely heard his own breathing as he was more aware of the slight tremble in his hands.

‘…he noticed, didn’t he?’

He finally let out a long sigh, removing his hand from his forehead and resting his head back with his eyes closed.

Of course, Rok-Soo would notice him trembling pathetically and feel sorry for him.

“Now you’ve gone and done it.” He mumbled with a scoff at himself, “Good job ruining everything in a matter of seconds.”

Opening his eyes, Cale stared long at the ceiling that looked too plain and far at that moment, making him feel the room was far too large for just him alone.

It is the past all over again, he thought.

After staring blankly for what felt like a whole day until it was late and dark outside, he finally decided to move from his seat and function again.

By function, he meant going to bed. He thought of taking a bath to freshen his mood before sleeping, but it only made him feel cold and alone in his spacious room. Well, he wasn’t expecting much change, anyway.

He threw himself on the bed with a heavy sigh, which he felt was still stuck inside and wouldn’t come out, no matter how many times he tried to force it out and get rid of the tightness in his chest.

Closing his eyes, he slowly accepted the coldness and felt numb and unbothered to think of anything anymore.

It’s for the best.

He drifted off to sleep with the thought, as he did every night for the next whole month…

.

.

A month passed, and Cale more or less moved like a ghost in the castle, silently leaving his room to his office and then back to his room after he was done with his duties as the Duke, rejecting his fidgety father’s offer of resting and leaving the work to him and Bassen or Violan. At the very least, he joined his family during meals every day.

Lilly and Bassen made it their mission to follow him around but maintain a reasonable distance, wanting to give him space but too worried to leave him alone. Violan, his mother, never misses a day of assuring him that she is there for him whenever he needs someone to talk to, and she leaves his side with one stern request asking him not to drink too much alcohol.

He won’t drink, not in front of anyone and not when the family is watching him like hawks and ready to jump his way if he so touched any bottle during their silent meals. He enjoys a few glasses before bed three times a week alone in his room when he’s sure no one will come to find him during late hours.

Today, however, he finally decided to rest and accept his father’s offer to leave the reports and documents to the family to finish. He woke up with a horrible headache, feeling so heavy he could barely bring himself to bathe or push anything into his mouth. The food the servants left for him for breakfast was left cold on the table for three hours or so.  

He lay on his back, eyes closed and feeling numb with the humming silence. It was funny how it seemed not even a soul passed by his door outside ever since Rok-Soo left with everyone. It felt like all the liveliness around the house was solely for the older redhead, and Cale’s relationship with everyone in this world didn’t improve. He felt like it was all an illusion now.

He sighed silently, knowing he should stop thinking this way, but it strangely felt relaxing the more he stayed alone. He was developing bad habits again, and he couldn’t care to stop them.

He expected no one from Rok-Soo’s people would ever want to look at his face again after the things he said. He believed Ron also would be too disappointed to even think of him anymore, but…

Cale sighed again, recalling how often he had to pretend he wasn’t aware of some of them sneaking into his office using invisibility magic and watching him. Don’t they already know he could use and sense magic well at this point? Really, he thought of it more as them provoking him than checking on him.  

It started with Raon sneaking in through the opened window with only Ohn and Hong, and sometimes, they’d bring Choi Han and Choi Jung-Soo with them. Cale may have left the window to his office and room open on purpose for them to sneak in any time, and they may have noticed his silent message of welcoming their presence to start visiting more than once a day.

He also noticed Sui Khan stopping by once every week to watch him for hours from the window before leaving as silently as he came.

Ron would drop by on days and ask him directly with his benign smile if the Puppy Young Master needed anything, and Cale would always say no, thank the old butler, and leave, as coldly as that, but at least he wasn’t rude. Cale was not acting Trash, after all.

‘Ah, maybe that's what's worrying them…’

He opened his eyes, looking at the ceiling with the soft sunlight seeping through the windows. He isn’t acting like Trash; he’s genuinely wanting to be left alone. Perhaps Rok-Soo was the one telling them to check on him, but he doubted it. This was more Deruth’s style of caring than Rok-Soo’s.

Rok-Soo is probably worried, or is he?

He shook his head slightly. No, that hyung of his must be worried, as he’s secretly been since before the start of that last conversation.

Then, the crew was probably checking on him just to reassure Rok-Soo.

He quietly clicked his tongue with a slight sigh and frown. Calmly flipping to his side, he decided to stop thinking about anything at all.

With his eyes closed, his mind was becoming numb again, and he slowly drifted to dreamland with the humming silence and the soft rustles of trees moving with the breeze outside and birds chirping.

Knock, Knock—

His eyes snapped open at the sudden interruption. He stiffened as he thought something must have happened since his family promised to leave him to rest unless it was urgent.

Before he could ask, the answer came from behind the door.

“Young Master, it’s Hans.”

He pushed himself to sit up, “What is it?” he slipped his cold feet into his slippers as he heard the man eagerly answer.

“Um, there is a letter for the Young Master.”

He frowned and stopped walking midway to the door. A letter? And why does Hans sound excited instead of alarmed? Not that it’s a bad thing, but he suddenly feels like going back to his bed.

However, he walked with a silent sigh and pulled the door open, slightly startling the ginger-head, but Hans looked so happy that he forgot even to let out a yelp this time.

“Here’s the letter, Young Master!”

“…thanks.”

He accepted the envelope that was pushed into his hands and raised an eyebrow as Hans didn’t turn around and run off as usual but instead waited with a broad smile like an excited brat awaiting his reaction after giving a gift.

Cale sighed as elegantly as always, staring intently at the envelope with a scroll attached. Confirming by using magic and his ability that it was safe, he opened the envelope in front of the Deputy Butler and pulled out the paper, leaving the scroll for later.

He opened the letter and found the first line with the familiar handwriting…

[ I’m still in Super Rock Villa. ]

Cale blinked at the words, blankly reading the rest of the letter that was obviously written by others as well listing down things and foods that could tempt him into paying a visit soon.

His hands slowly moved to open the scroll, and as he expected, it was a teleportation scroll to Super Rock Villa.

‘…of course Rok-Soo wouldn’t wait forever.’

He was still a bit shocked...

Cale was more used to people waiting for him to approach first and fix whatever damage was there or to address any problem, whether he was the cause or not, and most of them would eventually give up. After all, his family usually chose the waiting game, and he may have made a habit of taking advantage of it at some point. However, this is Rok-Soo he’s dealing with now, not Deruth, not anyone else.

“Young Master, the Master requested to know your answer as soon as possible.”

Cale looked at Hans’ bright eyes before he sighed, brushing his hair back with one hand, “I’m going to see hyung today. Tell father I won’t be with them at tonight’s dinner.”

“Yes, Young Master!”

Cale watched the butler run off to deliver the ‘long awaited’ news. He shook his head as he thought surely the man was happy the suffocating air around the castle would finally disappear soon, as were the rest of the Henituse family and the staff members.

He closed the door and looked at the letter again with the many handwriting styles. ‘…even with this, you guys sound vicious.’ A light puff of air left him as a silent chuckle, looking at the letter written by the kids and the rest, along with Rok-Soo, all crying out a big “Come over or else we’ll drag you this time.”

He took a deep breath and let it out calmly, feeling somewhat light for the first time after a month.

“…I’m nervous.”

He silently scoffed at himself for feeling this way at his age. Of all the things he had gone through, he was now nervous about facing Rok-Soo after their first fight.

He can’t refuse, and he should stop this while Rok-Soo is still giving the chance. The raging storm in his head from months ago had cooled off considerably by now, and maybe the reason was that he regretted the loneliness he had caused himself once again after all the years.

He nodded to himself with a silent sigh, looking again at the one sentence Rok-Soo wrote in the letter, then at the blue sky outside.

…he has plenty of time to relax before seeing his vicious hyung for the first time after a whole month.

.

.

“Human! Gentle Human! We’re leaving now. Remember to make up and never fight again!” Raon announced brightly as they were leaving Rok-Soo’s room after eating together, as if nothing had happened between the two redhead siblings.

Cale watched silently as Rok-Soo relaxed in his seat and waved away the kids, Choi Han, Choi Jung-Soo, Sui Khan and Ron, with a stoic face.

The door closed, and the room was too silent after the soft click.

Cale stared into space as Rok-Soo comfortably sipped his tea in the seat beside him. He didn’t expect eating dinner with the group to be… this easy, as if everything was all right, as if they trusted everything was already solved by his presence here now.

“…I’m sorry for what I said.”

He finally mumbled, and he noticed Rok-Soo stopped sipping his tea for a moment beside him.

Rok-Soo went back to sipping his tea leisurely with a quiet hum, “Ready to talk about what’s been bothering you, dongsaeng?” he looked at Cale and smiled a little at the little nod. He couldn’t stop himself from patting the brat’s head to make him finally look at him.

“Good, I’m listening.”

[quirkle2]

THAT GORE IS SOOOO GOOD!! PEAK WRITING IF YOU ASK ME TBH (i love feral zombie mobu, he has my heart) will you be publishing your zombie au oneshots on ao3 or just here on tumblr?

also one last question (or not. >:D), how was zombie mob's dynamic/relationship with tome tho? i assume in this au that they didn't know each other before mob got turned? did they form some sort of relationship in a way that he eventually start to recognize her? or did mob stayed seeing her only as a stranger :o

- 🪻 (i think i'm just gonna go by this emoji from now :3)

WAHHHH TY SM,,,

ill prolly just stuck to tumblr for the one shots! i usually like to stick to longer stuff for ao3, so tumblr it is

and yes, mob Does grow to recognize tome as a friend instead of a stranger! it's a bit of a weird dynamic at first, bc when tome meets ritsu, the boys r separated. ritsu is adamant that zombie mob isnt violent, but tome begs to differ...

when tome led mob away from ritsu so she could get him back to the settlement, she ended up tying him to a random utility pole w rope from ritsu's bag she totally rifled through. in any other circumstance she'd prolly just let the patrol guards kill him, but mob is the one that got her attention and Led her to a sick ritsu, and she finds that they're traveling together.. (their labeled water bottles in ritsu's bag is the biggest sign; saliva can infect u so ritsu has to be careful abt not drinking after mob) this zombie is Behaving Strangely and tome is too curious abt this wack ass setup they've got goin to just,, let this zombie die or wander off. the only method she has of keeping him in one place is to tie him somewhere :/

zombie mob doesnt seem to rly care at first, he's just worried abt ritsu, but then when tome doesnt come back for a bit ??? the next morning when she returns (with food and water for him !) he is vicious toward her. he cant do anything tied up like he is, but he's constantly snapping his teeth at her, hissing and spitting and snarling, and trying to wiggle free

all that mob knows if that he tried to get help from this girl, ritsu is gone now, and he's tied to a pole. that pisses him off and all his addled brain can rly process is that ritsu is In Danger somewhere he cant get to. and in tome's perspective, this strange kid she saved has been traveling with a fucking demon, but somehow isnt infected.they checked. he's miraculously not

when ritsu is well enough to hold a convo, tome tells him she has his zombie friend safe somewhere, bc even in his delirium ritsu was mumbling abt his brother (tome voice ah! they're brothers... inchresting i see the resemblance if i remove the horrid eyebags from mob's face). ritsu says mob is an extremely docile zombie by default. tome says he's literally one of the most vicious ones she's ever seen. neither of them believe each other and ritsu is convinced she has the wrong zombie and that mob is still out there somewhere, wandering the settlement grounds just Asking for a patrol to kill him

when ritsu is better, she sneaks him outta the settlement to see his brother. as soon as tome comes around the corner of mob's sad little Utility Pole home he gets riled up and starts snarling, but when another figure follows behind her, he Instantly settles. he sees ritsu's face, still a bit pale but otherwise alive, and every alarm bell in mob's head is cleared and he relaxes like a switch in him was flipped

ritsu saw that viciousness for a split second tho, and is Shocked by it. nevertheless ritsu is so relieved he's okay, so he basically rushes at mob and envelopes him in a Hug and tome watches this, kinda stunned. the way his brother instantly settles in the hold ?? maybe ritsu Was right, in his eyes... maybe being around ritsu just calms mob down, so ritsu's only seen his tame side

tome joins the gang after that (her joining might seem strange, given she hasnt much of a motive, but trust me, for tome, getting to study this enigma of a dynamic is basically her dream. also she has a backstory that motivates her more but im not getting into that now). and it's very odd how mob seems to,,, be largely ok w her now ?

she thought it'd be difficult, given his obvious hatred of her after their first meeting, but it seems that her eventually bringing back ritsu erased most of the distrust there. he's typically pretty cool w her around; the only times he gets testy is when she shoves ritsu around when they're bullying each other. after all this time of walking w a gentle ritsu alone, mob doesnt rly know the difference between fun roughhousing and actually hurting each other, so he typically growls at her lowly until she stops

later on in the journey, he shows genuine trust in tome, particularly after moments where she saves him or ritsu from getting shot. and way later on, when tome is in trouble, mob even attacks another zombie to keep them away from her

eventually he sees her as part of the gang, and tome sees him as less of a Vicious Monster and more of what he actually is; somebody's brother that is sick, and is one of the only zombies in existence that is actually being taken care of and accommodated for

[assorted-things]

My thoughts on the ending

This is probably going to be a bit rambling and disconnected, so bear with me...

(This got far longer than I meant it to be...)

Does anyone else feel that the Deserter is a reflection of the person Harry could have been, if he hadn't lost his memory? The bitterness and anger and inability to let go of the past remind me of a lot of things that the Ancient Reptilian Brain and the Limbic System say in the dream sequences... I think that Harry's amnesia is a gift, in a way - it allows Harry to eventually let go of the past and decide what kind of person he wants to be now. One of the first dream sequences shows Harry a vision of himself as the hanged man, and I think in a way the old Harry did die when he lost his memories. One of the reasons the game was so affecting emotionally to me is that you as the player are the one getting Harry to turn his life around, if that's how you choose to play it, because it really makes you feel involved and part of Harry's story. It's one of the reasons why I don't think the game would work well as a TV adaptation - I think it would really lose a lot of its emotional impact without your input. It really moved me that I could get Harry to go from screaming that he "doesn't want to be that kind of animal any more", to telling the Phasmid: "I'm glad to be me - an incredibly sensitive instrument".

I really love how the tone of the game manages to be somehow hopeless and hopeful at the same time. Maybe the world is doomed by the Pale, and the Revolution failed, and maybe Revachol is a shithole, but... you can find that there are things worth loving and saving in this broken world. You're subconscious tries so hard to convince you that it's all terrible and evil and that you should just give up and let the darkness take you, but all of your actions through the game can prove that voice wrong. It tells you you're not helping anyone, but depending on how you play the game, you are: you found Billie's husband, and even though he's dead, at least now she knows and won't have to wait forever for him to come home when he won't; Cuno has someone who actually listens to him and takes what he has to say seriously; you got Plaisance to bring Annette in from the cold; you stopped the mercenaries from killing as many people as they might otherwise have done (it went pretty badly in my playthrough, but I tried), and you gave Kim a friend. I love the message it seems to be trying to put across that even if the world is ultimately doomed, you can and should still try to find the good in it, and make a small part of it a better place. And maybe in the end it won't change anything, but the fact that you had hope enough to try matters. And maybe if enough people thought that way, they could change reality for the better - maybe there was a grain of truth in that infra-materialist stuff all along. Maybe it sounds corny, but I found it very touching.

This is... sort of where the Phasmid comes in for me, because everyone thought the existence of the Insulindan Phasmid was impossible, but because you believed in it enough, you were able to prove it was real. And if the Phasmid is real, then maybe other things that people thought were impossible can happen, too... It makes me feel very satisfied that I chose "SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL IS GOING TO HAPPEN" when I painted that wall. It seems fitting.

I also love the fact that the Deserter being stuck in the past is literally killing him. And... he talks a big game about being the last real Communist or whatever, but in the end, how is he actually helping the working class by clinging to his bitterness and refusing to let go of what could have been, instead of trying to do something to help the people around him? Even though Harry is flawed, and on his own can't change the world, he's made a difference to the people around him, which is better than being consumed by bitterness and doing nothing at all.

In the end, I think for me one of the core themes of the game is faith/belief (not necessarily in a religious sense)... I think that something that really helps is Kim's belief in Harry. He's so kind to Harry, when he could just as easily write him off as a shambling alcoholic. I think Kim's faith in you makes you want to live up to what he thinks of you, so... I'm not sure how coherent I'm being here, but it's a bit like how Harry believing in the Phasmid lets him make it a definite reality - Kim's belief in Harry as a great detective, or someone who could be a great detective, makes Harry a better person, I think. (At least, that's my take on it - I got so attached to Kim as a character that I really wanted to make him proud of my version of Harry!) And in the end, his faith wasn't misplaced. Again, he can't change the world, and he's human and not a saint (much as Harry may think he is), but Kim choosing to be kind did make a difference, even if it was only to one man.

tl;dr This is going to sound unbearably pretentious, but if someone asked me if video games can be art, this is the game I'd point to and say "yes".

[jaeyunniesimp]

I'M A FOOL TO WANT YOU (s.jy) part one part two

pairing: badboy!jake x fab!reader

tw: angst, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drugs, family issues, kissing (?), mentions of food (lmk if there’s more!)

wc: 2.5k

a/n: hi loves! i was at a total creative block, but then i was listening to frank sinatra’s song that inspired this title, and a lamp lit up in my brain nshdjsjd hope you enjoy it 🥺 luv y’all / this is not proofread so ignore any typos or grammar mistakes :p

synopsis: you weren’t exactly the most famous person in school, but you weren’t a total loser either. You’d say your presence was unremarkable, which somehow feels worse than being hated. He, on the other side, was the most adored person amongst other students. The popular, don’t-give-a-fuck type of bad boy anyone would fall for, and as much as you’d like to say you’re different, you couldn’t feel otherwise.

“i’m a fool to want you, to want a love that can’t be true, a love that’s there for others too”

You’d fallen for Jake Sim a long time ago, probably in middle school, when he was still a no one, a nerdy kid. That was until high school, where his looks matured and his attitude changed. Now, that both of you are in the same college, he never failed to grab other people’s attention, including yours.

Making new friends was certainly difficult, specially when everyone around you is so different from you. Sunoo was at this point your only true friend, the only person you could count on and rant about your problems without the fear of being judged, not just a fun-to-go-out-with friend.

Today wasn’t exactly the best of days. Your parents were fighting again, so you’d be better off staying at the dorms once more this weekend, your brother was drowning himself in drugs and partying a lot, just to numb the sadness he felt from witnessing your family crumbling apart, which made you worried. Although it pales in comparison, the day was also gloomy, which defeated all your hopes to be optimistic about what was yet to come.

Friday mornings used to be your favorite, now you can’t wait for them to end, knowing everyone probably has nice plans besides you. You’re already dressed in your grey sweatpants and your Metallica shirt (ride the lightning bc it’s the best and you got ✨ taste ✨), turning on the kettle to boil some water for your morning tea, when you feel your phone buzzing.

— Hello? — You answer lazily.

— Y/N! Please tell me you haven’t had breakfast yet! — Your best friend pleaded from the other line.

— I was just boiling some water, but I can turn it off. Why? — You replied, pressing the “off” button.

— I found this really cute café and they have bear shaped donuts, we have to go! It’s right beside campus. I’ll send you the address and we meet there, okay? — He asked, excitedly.

You agreed and hung up the phone, feeling kind of sad that you didn’t comply with his excitement.

Hugging yourself, you try to hide from the wind, mentally swearing at yourself for not bringing a coat. You see a little excited figure hopping with their arms up, signaling for you to come closer faster. You can’t deny, that even with all the gloominess you were feeling, seeing Sunoo made you just a little warmer.

Smile spread wide along your face, you hug your friend and quickly get in the store, protecting yourselves from the cold. You ordered a cup of milk tea and some cookies, while he got the infamous bear shaped donuts he was fawning over.

— Are you going home this weekend? — He asked, sipping his coffee.

— Nope. Tryna’ avoid conflict, don’t really wanna see my parents right now. Nor my brother. — You answered looking down to the cup you were holding.

— Hm, I see… You never talk about your brother, though, I don’t even know his name! — He argued.

— Yeah… We’re very different people, and he pretends he’s an only child to his friends, so I might as well just don’t give him that type of attention to mine. — You replied, annoyed.

— Why does he do that?! — His mouth was almost theatrically open, in utter shock.

— I don’t know — You shrugged — He puts on this facade, pretending to be someone he’s not, I guess that includes pretending our family isn’t completely fucked up.

After eating, you both gathered your things and went to your designated classes. Today was Friday, though, which meant Jake had the same classes you did in the morning. God, how do you pay attention to anything math related when Jake fucking Sim is sitting across from you?

You were entering the classroom when you felt a strong bump on your shoulder, almost knocking you down on the floor. You turn around and see no one other than Lee Heeseung, your brother. Not alone, though, he was with Jake. Since when did they become friends? You had no idea, but he was even crashing his classes.

He bumped into you on purpose and you knew it, which meant he was mad at you for whatever reason. You looked at him from across the room with burning eyes, which made him roll his and switch his gaze back to his friend.

You sat on the desk next to Jake’s, watching your brother’s eyes fall upon your figure as you did so, burning into your soul with anger. He wondered what were you trying to do, what moves would you pull, sacred you’d expose him. You couldn’t care less, though, you just knew that if you sat close to them he’d be worried and paranoid the entire time and that was enough revenge for you.

The day went by very slowly, turning every now and then to glance at Jake, pretending you were trying to look at Heeseung instead. He looked extra good today, with his black leather jacket draping over his shoulders, his blonde highlighted locks falling ever so gently on his forehead, your brother had to be really angry to not realize how your eyes were filled with adoration when you looked to your side.

But it kind of made you sad, though. That wasn’t any boy you were admiring, it was Jake. He never hooked up with a girl more than once, and he still managed to get many, and they were all WAY out of your league. They didn’t wear sweatpants to class, nor showed up everyday bare faced. They were just as admirably good looking as him. You really were longing for someone who couldn’t dare to even look at you, less be yours only.

The bell rang after what felt like an eternity, and to your luck, your best friend was already waiting for you outside. You went his direction and started chatting, but your eyes were wandering somewhere else. He was quick to pick up on it, though.

— No fucking way. — He said, mouth open.

— What? — Your gaze suddenly moved back to him.

— You? Fawning over Jake Sim? — He was just speechless.

— WHAT?! — You jumped off your spot, closer to him, almost palming his mouth for him to shut up. — I’m not!

— You we’re staring at him like he was a piece of food! Y/N, don’t get me wrong, he’s handsome as hell, but he’s a fuckboy and you know it. — He explained.

— I’m not simping for him, Sunoo, get over it.

— Okay, sorry — He held his arms up in sign of defeat. — But if you’re in for a one night stand, we could give you, like, a glow up montage so he would look at you…

— Oh thank you, I feel flattered. — You said ironically.

— That’s not what I meant and you know it! You’re gorgeous, but right now you’re kind of following the depressed core style, and it’s not doing anything for you.

He was right. You barely dressed up properly to go out anymore, and you can’t even remember the last time you wore makeup. It was tempting, but should you do this just because of a guy? It felt wrong.

— Sunoo, I’m not gonna do that just because of some guy. — You said, despite your inner urge to actually do it.

— Okay, sorry, just pitching ideas.

“i’m a fool to seek a kiss not mine alone, to share a kiss the devil has known”

The weekend finally came, and you were unexpectedly excited. Sunoo had a birthday party to attend, and he asked you to go with him. You would usually deny or feel uncomfortable going, but it had been so long since you’d had some fun or even dressed up nicely, you were excited to do so.

There was no point going back home anyway, your parents decided last minute they were going on a business trip, leaving the house empty. Partying it is!

Your makeup looked gorgeous, and your short black silky dress hugged your body perfectly. Sunoo was shocked at the sight of you, feeling happy for his best friend who was finally going to have some fun.

The party was packed, a lot of students from your school were there, getting wasted and making out with each other. You and your best friend had a couple of drinks and were just having a good time. You played board games, despite your brains not being at full capacity at the moment, which only made it funnier, did karaoke, and just gossiped all night long. You certainly hadn’t been this happy in a while.

You didn’t even pay attention to the people who were at the party, only sticking around Sunoo and his other friends. About 4am, you decided it was time to leave.

— But campus is so far away from here, we’d have to walk! — Sunoo argued.

— We can go to my parents house, it’s only a mile away and they’re not home anyway. Please, I need to sleep! — You suggested.

He gave in and you two were quickly on your way. It took you a little longer than usual to get there, with your dragging feet and drunk steps, but once you’d made it, it made you feel victorious. You opened the door quietly, out of muscle memory, forgetting that there was nobody home.

You both quickly got in, still taking feather light steps, Sunoo going straight to the bathroom to wash his face, while you went to the kitchen to grab some water. You grabbed a cup, and as soon as you turned on your heel to go around the counter, two bodies appeared out of nowhere, one of them holding a broom, and the other a lamp (?), ready to throw hands.

You screamed, surprised, dropping your glass on the floor, and they screamed at the same time, only to realize it was your brother, who was also at that party and had the same idea as you. But he wasn’t alone. Of course he had to bring Jake Sim to your parents house. Perfect.

A terrified Sunoo ran over your direction and turned on the lights, to meet the weirdest scene he could’ve pictured. Two of the school’s jocks in front of you, holding “weapons”, and glass shattered on the floor.

— What the fuck is wrong with you?! — You screamed, pushing your brother’s chest.

— Me?! You should’ve said you were coming home! — He argued.

— Oh, so now you care about me or what I do? Do you still tell other people you’re an only child? That’s why you needed the heads up? — You mocked.

He let out an annoyed scoff, rolling his eyes.

— That’s your brother? — Sunoo finally spoke up from across the room.

— You have a sister? — Jake asked, with a smug grin on his face.

His eyes landed on your thighs immediately, causing you to adjust your dress, trying to cover yourself up a little more. You were angry. Fuming. You couldn’t care less about Jake Sim right now.

— Oh great, you’re ready to clean this up! — You went up to Jake and stated sarcastically, pointing at the glass on the floor and the broom he was holding.

You left the kitchen without saying a word, despite your brother’s protests, and quickly grabbed Sunoo’s arm and led him to your bedroom.

— So you never bothered to tell me your brother was Heeseung? Lee Heeseung? THE Lee Heeseung? — He asked, plopping down on your bed.

— Okay, I get it! Whatever, he’s popular, but he’s an idiot. — You answered, removing your heels. — You can sleep here, I’ll take the couch.

— No it’s okay, you should sleep on your own bed. — He got up reluctantly.

— No, really, I hate it here, you can have it. — You argued.

— If you say so… — He mumbled, before drifting off almost instantly.

You let out a small chuckle at your friends action, then poorly removed your make up, put on an old oversized t-shirt, and made your way downstairs, desperate to get some shut eye. You were almost throwing yourself down on the couch, only to squeal lightly when you realized someone else was already lying on it.

— Fuck! You scared the shit out of me! — You whisper-yelled. — Great, I’ll sleep on the bathtub.

— What? You don’t like to cuddle? — The guy answered you, drowsy.

That’s when you realized it wasn’t your brother, it was his really handsome friend lying there.

— Oh shit, sorry, I thought you were Heeseung. — You suddenly became shy, and quickly turned on your heel to go wherever, as long as it wasn’t the living room.

But before you could make a move, a hand grabbed your wrist, making you go back and accidentally sit down on the couch.

— You can sleep here, I don’t bite. Don’t tell me you’re actually sleeping in the bathtub because you’re nervous around me? — He asked, his eyes still closed.

— I-I’m not! I don’t even know you — You answered, trying to let go of his grip.

— I see you looking at me in class, I know you know me. Just lay down and sleep, for god’s sake. — He argued.

You sighed in defeat, after a few seconds of silence, not knowing what to say. His arms draped around your waist, hugging you, as you laid with your back against him. You could feel his warm breath hitting the back of your neck and it made your heart race.

— Relax — He chuckled, resting his face further down your neck, which only made you feel more nervous.

You decided that you should fake it until you made it. You started telling yourself that it was alright, relaxing into his embrace, letting your hands fall on top of his. Your heart was still beating out of your chest, but you were acting like you were used to him.

That was until he started softly kissing your neck, trailing down near your shoulder, holding you tighter. A part of you wanted to let him continue, but another part of you felt so used. You knew you’d be only another girl he slept with, and you couldn’t allow yourself to go through that.

— What are you doing? — You asked firmly.

— Hm… Kissing you — He said in between kisses.

— Really, I just wanna sleep. — You said, taking your hand off his.

— Alright. — He answered, a cold tone in his voice.

He took his arms off you and laid on his back, facing the ceiling. You felt cold and somewhat empty, you wanted more of him, but you know you shouldn’t. You fell asleep right after, hoping that when you woke up, things wouldn’t fall apart like you felt they would.

next

taglist: @loves0ft

[lucajayms]

fuckin' liar

-

gerard way x reader she/her used use of y/n

-

part 1 || part 2 || part 3

-

i'll be making a masterlist soon!

-

warnings: drug use, angst, needles

-

I exhaled as I felt the high take over me once more. The needle stayed in my arm for, how long after? No idea. All I know is I've gotten my fix for the moment. Since Black Parade was coming out next week, there was a party tonight to congratulate us on the new album put on by our record company. Since I don't drink and neither does Gee, I asked him to go get me a monster from the corner store. In reality, it was just so I could shoot up.

Day blurred together and I had no idea if I was losing myself or not. It started with secret THC edibles, and then opiates. The pills were my favorite I'd have to say. They scratched an itch I didn't know needed to be scratched in the first place.

That itch was impending doom. When I was 12, I was diagnosed with stage two leukemia, and since I've beaten it, I've always feared it to be lurking behind me. Drugs silence those fears. Am I a shitty person? Oh absolutely. I don't deserve Gerard. I'm a fucking hypocrite. But do I have any intentions to quit? Hell the fuck no. This was different. I wasn't snorting cocaine in the tourbus bathroom like I found Gee a few years ago, I just happened to go see my dealer when she was out of opiates. Her boss told me heroin had a similar effect. I tried it just to see what it would feel like, but it's never just trying it. Thank god I have money, otherwise I'd be in trouble with some dangerouse people.

The familiar sound of the front door rang through my ears, but I didn't comprehend it until it was too late.

Gerard stepped into the bedroom, holding the Monster in one hand, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me. His face paled, eyes wide with shock and disbelief as they locked onto the needle sitting next to me.

For a moment, neither of us said anything. The silence was suffocating, filled with a thousand unspoken words, a thousand shattered promises. I felt like my entire world was crumbling around me, but I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. I just stared at him, frozen in place.

Gerard’s expression twisted from shock to something darker—hurt, betrayal, anger. He dropped the Monster on the floor, the can rolling across the carpet as he turned away from me. My throat tightened, and for the first time in a long time, I felt truly terrified. I had never seen Gerard look at me like that before, like he didn’t even recognize me.

“Gee—” I started, my voice hoarse and trembling, but he cut me off.

“Don’t,” he snapped, his voice low and venomous. “Don’t say anything.”

I tried to sit up, reaching out for him. “I—”

Gerard spun around, his eyes blazing with anger. “What the hell are you doing, (Y/N)?” His voice cracked, a mixture of fury and pain. “After everything with your sister? With me? After everything we’ve been through? You’re doing this?”

“I’m sorry, I—” My voice faltered, the words sticking in my throat.

“Sorry?” Gerard laughed bitterly, running a hand through his white hair. “You’re sorry? Do you even understand what you’re doing to yourself? To us? You promised me, (Y/N). You promised me you were okay.”

I felt the tears welling up in my eyes, but I couldn’t find the words to explain. I wasn’t okay, not even close, but how could I explain that? How could I tell him about the fear that gnawed at me every day, the anxiety that consumed my thoughts, the constant dread of the cancer coming back? How could I tell him that I felt like I was dying inside?

“I didn’t mean for it to get this bad,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I just… I don’t know how to stop.”

Gerard stared at me, his face a mixture of hurt and frustration. “You don’t know how to stop? (Y/N), you have to stop. This isn’t something you can just mess around with. Do you know how dangerous this is? Do you know what you’re doing to yourself?”

I nodded, my tears falling freely now. “I know,” I sobbed. “I know, but I’m scared, Gee. I’m scared of the cancer coming back. I’m scared of everything.”

Gerard’s expression softened for a moment, his anger giving way to a deep sadness. He walked over to the bed, sitting down beside me, but he didn’t reach out to hold me. Instead, he sat there in silence, his head in his hands.

“I don’t know what to say,” he muttered after a long pause. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

I reached out, my fingers brushing against his arm, but he pulled away. The gesture stung, and my heart broke a little more.

“I can’t help you if you don’t want to help yourself,” Gerard said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “And right now, I don’t even know if I can be around you. I can't talk to you because you're a fucking liar. You lied to me, to our friends and family. I'm so upset with you, (Y/N), it's not even fuckin' funny."

I was speechless. I am a liar. I am a bad person. I ruined my trust with the man I love, and I would probably never get it back. Tears began swelling in my eyes as Gerard grabbed a towel from the bathroom to clean up my needle and spoon. He gently lifted the needle with the towel before speaking, "Don't cry and ruin your makeup, we still have a party to go to." He said coldly. "But after this party, I'm staying with Mikey for a bit. I don't know if I can be around you."

Fair. Though I think the heroin is messing with my perception, because he seems way less angry than he should be. He's right, this is bad for his sobriety, having over a year, almost two clean and sober.

"Okay." Was all I could mutter. I couldn't think straight because of the drugs, but also because of how upset I was and how stupid I was for getting caught.

"Is that what you're wearing?" He asks, his voice sounding echoed. Oh, I was still in my jeans from our shopping trip earlier. I shake my head slowly, still focused on the peeling paint just left of the socket that the TV is plugged into. "Then get dressed, we're leaving in ten." He says, coldly. I push myself off of the bed and entire my closet, not looking at him in the eye. As I look for a dress to wear, I hear the toilet flush.

Fuck.