#second is castle in the sky

[ganondoodle]

apparently one of main guys directing the god damn zelda movie "aims for it to be a live-action miyazaki"

and i just-

you idiot, you fool, you absolut buffoon

first of all, there is a REASON why all his films are ANIMATED, animation can do things live action will never be able to no matter how much shitty CGI effects you pump into it

secondly, given how any possible ghibli influence in totk is so clearly purely a superficial attempt of copying aesthetics and NOTHING more is making me more convinced that movie will be shit

miyazakis works have been reduced to whimsical childrens fantasy with a specific kind of aesthetic in the mindset of many and i HATE it, its so much more than that and seeing how much totk has been compared to it, again, purely bc of some aesthetics reminiscent of his movies is still driving me nuts

the zelda series, especially the most recent entry, is very clearly lacking in everything that miyazaki excels at and i am not confident that anyone in higher positions whos working on that darn movie understands any of it and will just go for the usual copying of surface level aesthetics tm

[hatterladz]

Okay part two of rambling about my oldish Inky Mystery AUs, so the last one is the Castle in the Sky Au but this one Holly's actually the main character [whereas the Castle in the Sky AU was jumbled between all of them but had more focus on dish family shenanigans and AliBends]

So this is my Parasite AU [finally found my notes for this one], where there's a wellknown epidemic of "parasites" more specifically dark creatures that escaped from hell and feeds on their hosts soul/emotions

Holly's father in this AU passed away from a parasite, but one day she wakes up and finds a parasite in her room she can NOT get rid of [it's Snowball] which she later finds out is feeding on her depression. However instead of the relationship being parasitic its symbiotic. She still feels sad and has her days but she can function easier.

Think of it as a really weird ESA cranked up several levels. She doesn't mention she has a parasite since she doesn't want to be quarantined in a facility, she wants to graduate. During that time she keeps notes on Snowball.

Alice works in the facility, Boris is infected with a parasite [can't remember what his did] but Bendy is fine asides how much more they struggle to get help due to their backgrounds. Cup is unlucky, he STARTS with just one and then gets ANOTHER, but he makes it a record with his end result being a whopping three parasites [nobody knows how he's alive] Holly also gets a second which is later a representation of the Cog

Holly now is trying to figure out how to help Bendy and Boris [out of her own kindness] and Cup [she made a deal that he stops trying to kill them if she gets it removed, she's not exactly happy to be in that situation] and tries to figure out the parasites and how, at minimum, to functionally live together in a symbiotic relationship, at best disconnect the parasite from the host completely

I've decided recently that Cup made a deal to be a "hero" alongside his brother when he was young and gullible. Unfortunately it leads to a lot of medical trauma [which is how he ends up with his own magical leech] and being separated from his brother, Mugs, whose now being used as a kind of "incentive" to get Cup to "keep helping"

Which is to cull parasite holders who are "too far gone" except the meaning of that has been heavily skewed due to his boss being corrupt, and Cup's specific flavor of parasites prevents him from really caring about that and he just wants his brother back [on good days]

Eventually the Bbros go to the facility and find Mugs whose not aware he's being held at [mostly] metaphorical gunpoint and Cup isn't aware Mugs is even there he does his best to keep the brothers updated on each other/together instead of separated and lost like he and Cup were

[soupsandstars]

Two types of transformations

[aimportantdragoncollector]

Hand-wavey Castle in the Sky AU where Yoichi (Sheeta) is running from his megalomaniac brother who wants to find Laputa to rule the world (no surprise there), Third (Pazu) is determined to help the cute boy who fell from the sky & prove Laputa is real and Second (sky pirate) realizes the true treasure is the two scrappy guys he picked up along the way.

Yay Studio Ghibli AUs are always such fun!

1. Yoichi and AFO are two orphans, perhaps the last survivors descended from the Laputan royal line. Both of them grew up dreaming of finding the flying island of Laputa someday. But while Yoichi dreams of adventure, AFO wants to use the weapons system on Laputa to take over the world. AFO believes he's a rightful king and deserves to rule. He joins the military to obtain more power. After realizing his brother's intentions, Yoichi steals the crystal necklace that is the key to controlling Laputa and runs away. While fleeing AFO, Yoichi jumps off an airship. He passes out, but then the crystal activates and floats him down safely.

2. Third is an orphan working in a coal mine. His father used to tell him stories about the floating island, but the other kids mock his belief in legends. One day Third sees a pretty white-haired boy floating down from the sky and catches him.

3. After Yoichi tells him that Laputa is real, Third vows to help him find the city. AFO's soldiers track them down, but then get attacked by airship pirates led by Second. In the chaos, Yoichi loses his crystal.

4. Yoichi and Third stow away on the pirate ship to escape. Second finds them. Both boys are shocked to see the leader of the pirate gang is a boy their own age. At first Second seems hostile toward Yoichi as AFO's brother. Third stands up to protect Yoichi. After hearing about how Yoichi's brother imprisoned him, Second softens. After all, the pirates value freedom above all else and they have a soft spot for miners. Second's father once led a miners' strike, but AFO came and branded them all as criminals, forcing them to become pirates. The original leader of the gang, Second's father, was killed by AFO. Now Second is chasing after AFO for revenge and to end his tyranny.

5. AFO finds the crystal and uses it to navigate to Laputa. Yoichi is also able to remember the directions and guide the pirates to Laputa. Once on the island, AFO betrays the army and activates a weapons system to destroy them. Then he heads to the bottom of the castle, the epicenter of Laputa's ancient knowledge and weapons.

6. Horrified seeing the destruction Laputa has already unleashed on the army, Yoichi sees no choice but to destroy the island. Yoichi, Second, and Third sneak in and activate a self-destruct button. Then they fly away on a glider. AFO falls to a Disney death. Although most of the island collapses, the castle flies away to the stars.

7. Second actually tells Yoichi and Third that they are the real treasure he found along the way. It's sappy and they both still love it.

(All of these asks are free to use in my Three Weeks of Trioholders event.)

[merriclo]

bro just beat totk. goddamn.

[artforiasenibudayajepang]

25 Film Anime Jepang Tersedih di Netflix yang Akan Membuatmu Menangis Di Tahun 2023

Berita Anime Jepang – Kadang-kadang kita menemukan beberapa film yang tidak hanya membuat kita menangis dengan alur cerita yang mengharukan tetapi juga meninggalkan kesan mendalam pada jiwa kita. Oleh karena itu, hari ini kami merekomendasikan 25 film anime Jepang tersedih di Netflix yang akan membuatmu menangis (2023). Simak Juga : 15 Rekomendasi Anime Fighting Jepang Terbaik Seperti Baki di…

[pooksbedamned]

Nothing is as beautiful as a Northeastern tree in autumn

There are other epic sights for sure but none so consistent at making me stop in my tracks every single time just to marvel at its beauty

I’m humbled because it gets me every single time

[skull-bearer]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Dragonlance - Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Dalamar the Dark/Raistlin Majere, Past Dalamar the Dark/Jenna Characters: Dalamar the Dark, Raistlin Majere, Jenna (Dragonlance), Palin Majere, Bupu (Dragonlance), Dunbar Mastersmate, Original Male Character(s), Horkin (Dragonlance) Additional Tags: Ghibli AU, Laputa- Castle in the Sky AU, Second Generation, Knights of Takhisis, Post Summer Flame, No Chaos, Resistance, War, Genocide, Violence, Airships, Sky Pirates, Gnomes, Mages, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Mystery, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Despair, Hope Summary:

As the Knights of Takhisis close upon Wayreth, and the last bastions of resistance fall; Dalamar discovers a strange mystery, that may lead to a final beacon of hope in this darkening world.

Chapter 1: A Late Night Because what this fandom really needs is a ghibli au, and Laputa is one of my absolute favourites.

[peachessndreamss]

A Dark & Stormy Night

Summery : A storm rages over Winterfell and the Stark children look for comfort with their parents.

Characters : Cregan Stark x f!wife reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings : None

Word count : 1K

A/N : Short and disgustingly sweet. All my Cregan pieces can be enjoyed alone but are all interconnected and feature the same Lady Stark their children.

peachessndreamss Masterlist l peachessndreamss ask box

Night was falling early on the North, and before the final rays of watery daylight had leached from the sky Cregan Stark had looked out from the highest chamber of the Library Tower and seen the tops of the ancient Wolfswood trees disappearing into the great grey swell of clouds that rolled over the land and lay over it like a blanket. 

When the night had fully fallen and an eerie stillness settled over the land. It was the hour of ghosts and Cregan was finally ready to sleep. He closed the heavy tome he’d been reading from and placed it back on it’s shelf, the beeswax candle he’d been using to read by was now spluttering and spitting as it came to the end of its life, he took the candlestick in his hand as he moved from the library, through the halls of the silent castle, to the bedroom he shared with his wife. 

Lady Stark was already asleep, only the top of her head visible from where she’d buried herself so deeply under the furs on their bed. Cregan set the dying candle on the table next to his side of the bed and quickly stripped off his outer clothes and slipped beneath the furs in just his undershirt. He sighed contentedly, finding the bed warm from his wife’s sleeping body and the air heavy with her scent, he pinched out the candle, plunging the room into complete darkness and closed his eyes. 

Cregan felt like he'd been asleep for  seconds when he woke suddenly. On first waking he had no idea what had roused him but after a few seconds of confusion the sky outside the window was split by a bright fork of lightning, followed by a deep rumble of thunder. Cregan groaned softly and rolled onto his side, slipping one arm over his wife’s waist, and splaying his hand across her warm stomach. 

A second, louder rumble of thunder rolled through the sky and rattled the glass in the Winterfell windows. Cregan sighed quietly, closing his eyes again, ready to sink back into sleep. There were more flashes of lightning that he could see through his closed eyes, and deep rolls of thunder that made the earth shudder. Lady Stark slept on, completely untroubled by the storm that raged outside her window, Cregan was envious of her deep sleep and he pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder. 

He was almost asleep again when there was a new sound which had him fully awake in less time than it took to blink. The creek of the bedroom door had the Lord of Winterfell sitting bolt upright and reaching for the dagger he kept beside the bed. 

Cregan was just about to demand who was entering their chambers when a flash of lightning illuminated the room and he saw the two frightened faces of his children huddled in the door, clinging to each other. The fear that had gripped his heart vanished and instead of reaching for a weapon he held his arms out to the children. 

“Come here, it’s all right,” he whispered, his eyes adjusting to the dark just enough to see the two small children shuffling toward him. 

His daughter, Aly, led the way, her hand holding tightly to her younger brother who followed behind, his thumb in his mouth and his eyes still full of sleep. 

“We’re scared,” Aly said. 

Cregan rather thought she was the one who was scared and had dragged her younger brother along for moral support. 

“Come up here then,” Cregan soothed as they reached the foot of the bed. 

Aly helped her younger brother, who was still new to walking and unsteady on his feet onto the bed before climbing up after him. Their son made a direct line to Lady Stark, who had finally woken up and rolled onto her back to see what was going on.

“What’s the matter darling?” she asked softly as she reached out to the boy, pulling him toward her. 

“Scared of the storm,” Aly answered as she wriggled up the bed toward the space in between her parents. 

“Would you like to sleep with us then?” Lady Stark asked as the boy settled his head against her chest and closed his eyes. He made a few small noises as he snuggled his face into the crook of her neck and grabbed at a handful of her hair. 

Lady Stark glanced at Cregan who was holding the furs back as their daughter crawled in between them and rested her head down on the pillows. 

“Will you tell us a story papa?” she asked as Cregan relaxed back on his pillow, tucking the furs around his little girl. 

“No my love,” he said softly, “it’s very late so you should just close your eyes,”. 

“What about the storm?” she asked with a pout. 

Lady Stark had relaxed back against her own pillows, the weight and warmth of the child against her chest making her sleepy again. 

“You'll be safe with us,” Lady Stark said softly, kissing the boy's forehead. 

Another fork of lightning split the sky followed by a great roar of thunder, a look of fear crossed Aly’s face and  she cringed away from the window and against her father. He wrapped one arm around her slight frame and pulled the child close. Letting his chin rest on the top of her head. 

“Papa, I'm scared,” she whispered, her voice only loud enough for him to hear. 

Cregan smiled to himself, he dreaded the day when he'd wouldn't be able to protect his children from the things that frightened them, but a storm he could keep them safe from and he gave Aly a gentle, reassuring squeeze. 

“I've got you,” he breathed, “I'll keep you safe,”. 

He wrapped his hand around her tiny fist and brought it to his lips, kissing her tiny fingers as her eyes closed and she started to breathe deeply. 

Cregan glanced over at his wife who was already sleeping with their son curled against her chest. There was another bright flash of lightning but the thunder sounded distant, muted and unlikely to wake the sleeping children. 

When he awoke again the wintry sun was streaming through the windows, the sky clear and bright with no sign of the previous night's storm. He brushed at his face, pushing his daughters hair from under his nose and tucking it back behind her ear as she slept on. He turned his head and caught his wife's eye from the other side of the bed. She gave him a sleepy smile.

“Did you sleep well my love?” She asked softly, stroking their sons back as he slept on. 

“Never better,” Cregan replied with a smile.

PS: Well done on finishing this truly dreadful and worthless piece of fanfic Ten kisses for you.

[old4sa]

Spent all day watching The Owl House, which I've only seen two episodes of before today. But holy shit.

[dolicekiss]

A debt

PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen X Velaryon niece!reader

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni please), dubcon, lucerys velaryon reader (basically reader is lucerys velaryon but female), toxic aemond, threats, unprotected sex (p in v), near death experiment, hair pulling, rough making out, attempted sexual asssult, breeding, virgin!reader, bickering, mentions of blood, tension, kinda angsty

SYNOPSIS: Aemond could never forget that you had taken his eye out, so when you both cross paths at Storm’s End, he demands for what was taken from him. Things went haywire when a sneak attack lead you to fall from your dragon and be swallowed by the large waves. Only that you didn't die, as Aemond finds you and saves you. With nowhere to take you, the prince takes you to a brothel hoping Sylvie would keep you safe there. Little did be know, a beautiful girl such as yourself was not a thing to be put in a brothel.

“I want you to put out your eye, as payment for mine.”

Blue sapphire sparkled in the hollowness of Aemond’s eye when he peeled back his eye patch and revealed the wound you had left behind as a little girl. A regret at best but not anymore. You swallowed, heart thumping in your chest. You possessed no desire to fight him, nor did you wish to indulge with him.

You were only a messenger here.

“One would serve.” Aemond softly spoke, as you watched him reach for a dagger. “I would not blind you.”

The piercing sound of the dagger being tossed at you was more pellucid against your ears than the gushing rainstorm outside. Patterning aggressively on the cobblestones, striking thunder tearing through the sky. The seven were definitely upset, for what was about to take place. An ominous feeling looming over your head, putting your heart in a state of unease.

“Plan to make a gift of it to my mother.”

There was no way he could expect you to take out your own eye. You had acted upon impulse but you were right to do so. He was going to injure your brother and you, that stone in his hand a vivid image embedded in your mind from childhood.

You held your head high, fierce gaze focused on him. “No.”

Aemond seemed disappointed by your response. “Then you are craven as well as a traitor.”

You could hear Lord Borris’ rebuke in the back but it mattered little to Aemond as he marched towards you abruptly, causing you to retreat back. “Give me your eye, or I will take it, bastard!”

“Come fucking take it then.”

Swords were unsheathed and the sound of it echoed within the halls of Lord Borris' castle.

You were filled with panic, your long black braid moving behind your back when you took haste steps back. Before bloodshed could happen, Lord Borris stepped in and sent you back to your dragon. You were thankful for that as this could lead to something worse.

You went out, going to your dragon, Arrax who seemed in quite distress. You patted his back, once or twice and commanded for it to calm down in high valyrian but nothing seemingly worked. Rain had soaked into your clothes and the thunderstorm only grew heavier witch each second. As you mounted it, your gaze set on the empty space where Vhagar once sat.

You made it your goal to reach dragonstone safely and convey the Lord’s message to your mother.

As Arrax flew up in the grey sky, you looked around hoping to not find Aemond but when the massive shadow of Vhagar flew atop you in the clouds, your blood froze. Panic rising up and you knew very well that fighting Aemond in a dragon combat would end with you losing since he had claimed the largest dragon in all of Westeros.

You could feel your dragon’s uneasiness, same as yours and that was not a good sign.

Aemon had disappeared for now and you released a breath of relief, turning your dragon to head for dragonstone.

Only then Vhagar came in front of you, out of nowhere, with its wide mouth open sending your dragon in pure disarray. You tried to control it, in hopes that things will calm down if one dragon is calm enough but no.

Aemond’s laugh echoed in the open sky and it was enough to fill you with chills. You felt Vhagar right behind you, its loud roars having the same affect as Aemond’s malicious laughs. You saw a narrow pathway between two stones and went inside, knowing Vhagar would be incapable of fitting in there with its large size.

Your commands to calm your dragon down were pathetic and useless.

It was scared, as were you.

You could hear Aemond’s deep voice, and it terrified you.

“Jemēla gēlyēni enkā, riña.” Those words, you knew what they meant and you knew Aemond would only calm when he has ripped out your eye from your socket, a vision you would be.

Fearsome was the thought.

Your vision had blurred due to the constant pouring of the rain and your own head was everywhere. But then, out of nowhere your dragon spots Vhagar and in desperate need to protect itself, flies at the beast and breathes fire into her face.

“Lykiri, Arrax! Lykiri!” Your command in high valyrian flies over your tense dragon’s head as you fly away from Vhagar.

You can hear Vhagar losing its calm too, as Aemond’s high valyrian commands roared along with his dragon. You turned around, looking down but there was no sight of Vhagar chasing after you now, so you flew higher.

You broke through the barrier of the dark, looming clouds and when light greeted you, relief washed over you. False assumptions that everything was calm now became the reason of your fall as Vhagar out of nowhere leaped from the side, biting Arrax‘s head into two.

“Vhagar, no!”

Your eyes widened in horror, gaze locking with Aemond as you lost balance and fell down.

That was all you remembered, as you passed out due to the panic and lose of hope. You knew from then on, you were better off dead but what broke your heart the most was the gruesomely demise of your beloved dragon.

Aemond knew he had to find you.

Vhagar had missed you by an inch and the chances of you being alive were somewhat there. He did not wish to start a war, not like this, not by killing off his niece when she was at her weakest.

He had the advantage by being in the possession of the biggest dragon and he knew it was not fair to you.

Aemond dived in, lowering his dragon to the sea, in hopes that he would find you. Endlessly searching in the water, letting out frustrated grunts when he didn't find you. He flew over the shore, all deserted and he noticed something. Bringing Vhagar closer to it, he jumped off her back and ran towards your passed out body.

Thankfully you had washed up on the shore.

Your long braid wrapped around your stomach, the side of your head bloodied and Aemond fell to his knees, reaching for your face.

You were as lifeless as a corpse.

He checked your pulse and relief washed over him. You were alive, although unconscious.

Aemond buried his arms beneath your soaked body, lifting you up and taking you over to Vhagar. He somehow got you on his dragon’s back and tied you to him, your back pressed against his chest and head leaned over his shoulder.

“Fuck, what do I with you now?” He whispered, a mix of worry and frustration donning his face.

He couldn't take you back to the red keep, as they would capture you and hold you hostage. He didn't want that, not when he had not captured you with honor. Aemond was not some monster without morals but he sure could not take you to the blacks, knowing it would put his life in danger.

There was absolutely nothing he could do than fly around Westeros with you on his dragon.

An idea infiltrated the prince's mind.

There was only one place where he could keep you, without bringing you harm and that was the brothel he often visited. Under Sylvie’s care and under her orders, she surely would protect you and keep you safe.

He sighed, flying to where Vhagar usually rested. He allowed her rest while taking a horse, putting his hoodie over your very bright and pleasant features to conceal you.

The realm had seen you, he did not wish for people to take notice of you. Aemond pressed you into his chest as he rode in King's landing, making way to Sylvie’s brothel.

That was the best place to keep you.

As his own hostage.

For no one else to hurt, no one else to lay claim on you.

Sylvie was surprised to see the prince with an unconscious woman in his arms. Aemond only had to glare at her and she allowed him in. Thankfully it was broad daylight and there were not much customers — giving the young prince enough room to smuggle you in the confinement of a room in a secluded area of the brothel upstairs.

“My prince, who is she?”

Aemond sighed, tiresome all this was but it was his fault and deep down he knew that.

“Just know that she is mine and I am entrusting her to you.” Aemond said, staring at your unconscious body laying on the soft bed. “If harm comes to even a strand of her hair, I will behead you and your girls.”

Sylvie was terrified and it was rare of her to be this terrified of Aemond. His tone was dark and she knew that this woman, whoever she might be, was definitely not to sell to her customers. All the woman could do was nod at the prince, obeying his each and every command.

“Trust me, my prince. Rest assured. I shall take care of her like she is my own.”

Aemond was pleased. “Tend to her wounds, clean her and change her clothes. Give her your most expensive dress.”

Sylvie nodded, eyes lowered to the floor as Aemond continued analyzing you. You had the most longest hair he had ever laid eye upon. A long braid which reached your calves and it was as dark as a raven. You surely were no velaryon, as much as you went around parading it like your mother.

But you surely were a Targaryen.

He departed from the brothel, writing a mental note that he would visit again tonight.

Hours passed by and when you finally regained consciousness, it was not in the arms of death nor the waves but on a soft mattress, surrounded by candles everywhere and the strong sweet scent of oils and perfumes.

Your gaze fell on your attire and it was something you would never in your seven lives wear.

A long sleeved dress, made of sheer material, enough to expose your small clothes. Your shoulders revealed and glistening from the oils that had been rubbed on you. Your hand reached to feel your thick braid but instead wavy strands awaited you. Cascading down your back, surrounding you like a fucking gown. You were in a completely different attire than before.

Soft music orchestrated by someone unknown made its tunes inside the room you were in.

It was small, with a bed and a table side. A chair was also in the corner and you sucked in a deep breath, eyes flitting here and there to analyze the room further.

The door soon opened and it revealed a woman, in her mid fourties and you blinked upon seeing her disheveled state. She was practically naked and slowly the realization began to sink in.

“Is this a brothel?”

The woman had the sweetest smile on her lips as she nodded, in her hand a jug you assumed filled with wine. In her other, a golden cup. A grimace made its way on your face, disgust evident but there was also unmatched anger. You were going to slaughter whoever that had brought you here.

Had they sold you?

Did Aemond do this? It would not make sense at all since you knew he would have abandoned you the moment you fell off your dragon. There was no way he would search for you but if it wasn't him then someone else had found you and put you here.

Your head felt like it could burst at any given moment and you realized how bad of a throbbing pain was in the side of your head. It ached and when you reached for it, you flinched.

“By what means am I here? I need to know who put me in such a horrible filthy place.”

You watched with a sharp eye as she poured the liquid into the cup, extending it out for you once finished. You blinked, shaking your head. “I demand answers, not wine.”

“I'm afraid I'm not allowed to answer those but he will be here soon.”

You snatched the cup of wine from her hand and tossed it across the room, watching as the glass made contact with the wall and collapsed in the corner. The woman’s grin grew wider as she realized you were no low born for sure. The amount of money she could make off you was unmatched but she knew better than to defy Aemond’s orders.

“You have the temperaments of a high born lady.” Sylvie said, head tilted as she admired the beauty you were blessed with. “No wonder I was told to take care of you.”

There was not a mark on your face, like you'd been blessed by the seven themselves. You were a piece of art and how she'd gotten you ready only made you appear like Venus, the goddess of love and sex, fertility even.

Sylvie left the room, to attend to her guests but not before warning you. “Do not leave this room, girl. There are wolves out there and they won't hesitate to rip you to shreds. You are safe here.”

You felt chills at her words, well aware of the atrocities men committed here with women.

You chewed on your lip, knees brought to your chest as you hugged them tightly while your arms wrapped around them. You wanted to cry, you missed your brothers and your mother. Being her only daughter, you knew her whole being resided within you and you wished to send a letter at least about your whereabouts.

She surely would come to save you.

Confused, scared and cornered, you stayed glued to your position.

Then the room door opened and a man entered. Your head lifted up from your knee pads and you backed into the wall seeing how drunk this man was. His wobbly walk told you he had more than enough to drink and now he was staggering towards you.

“I knew that bitch was hiding something here.” He said, a sick grin on his face and your eyes widened upon catching a glimpse of the man's hands that were extended to grab a hold of you. “Such a pretty girl like you should be downstairs, not here. But then it's good you're here. I get to have you all for myself.”

“Touch me and I will make you wish you were never born.” You spat, a venom in your tone as your posture shifted.

You were on guard and you had always trained under your step father, Daemon. You knew how to defend yourself, as well as take down a life if you had to. There was nothing in this world that you would not do to protect yourself and when the man's flimsy endeavor to grab you slipped, you rolled over the bed to reach for the cup of wine.

You swallowed.

You had trained but you never once had to fight someone to save your life, dignity and honor.

This was real, this was what you had trained for.

Adrenaline pumped through your blood, since the man was evidently twice your delicate size. You watched with a sharp gaze as he scoffed, reaching for you. Before his hands could come in contact with your exposed shoulders, you struck down the man's hand with the sharp edge of the wine glass.

He let out a scream, nearly succumbing to his knees. “You fucking bitch.”

You stared as blood soaked his clothes, the cut deep and brutal on his hand. This only encouraged his lust for you, an anger igniting in his eyes. He seemed pretty sober now as he got back up and slammed you against the wall with newfound force.

“Fucking whore. You don't have to act this hard to get. I swear I'll pay more than what the others do.” His words were like salt to the wound, as he held you over the wall. You had nothing on him now, as the man buried his face into your neck.

He sniffed, satisfied with the scent of the oils staining your skin. Before his lips could come in contact with your skin, the door slammed open and you saw Aemond.

The moment he laid his gaze on you, in such a horrible and disgusting situation, something inside him snapped. His jaw tightened and Aemond forgot that he was in a brothel and causing a scene could put you in danger.

You felt the force of the man disappear as Aemond pulled him off you, pinning him to the ground with his knee into his neck. You watched as your uncle delivered punch after punch, ruining the set of very basic features on his face.

“How dare you lay your filthy hands on her? On her, of all people?” His voice was loud as for each word, a taut punch was sent to the man's face.

Sylvie entered the room, in a panicked state, witnessing the disheveled state of both Aemond and you in front of him. She recognized the man as one of her clients and when Aemond caught her in his eye, he stood up and grabbed the woman by her throat, pressing her into the wall.

He leaned in, darkness imposing a threat. “I gave you one fucking job, and you failed.”

“I-I swear I don't know how he found her. My Prince believe me, I-I would never misplace something you told me to take care of.”

You watched the whole scene unfold, with blurring tears in your eyes, a soft sniffle escaping you. The man's touch was disgusting and it still lingered over your shoulders, the stains of blood tainting the purity of your skin. You could not believe what was going on, all you knew that Aemond was aware of your whereabouts which could only mean one thing; he himself put you here. Was this how low the Greens were willing to go, to win the war? By tainting the Queen’s reputation and putting you in a brothel for commoners to use and throw?

“Get out of my fucking sight and hand this fucking filth to my guards. I will see what it is to be done of him.” Aemond elucidated each word for the woman and she nodded, grabbing the man and dragging him out. “And bring me some water and a clean cloth.” His head turned in your direction, gaze locking with your blurred one.

You were still frozen in that position, not being able to move an inch. Your body had stilled from how sudden and scary everything was.

Aemond took a step towards now that you two were alone and you flinched. “Please don't.”

He stilled, staring at you. You were close to breaking apart, he could see it. Tears falling down in small streams, glistening over the golden glow of the candle casting on your face.

“I would never force myself upon you.” He said, almost offended that you would expect something like that from him in the first place. He was cold, stoic, he knew but did you really see him in such a horrible light? It bothered him when it should not have, it shouldn't matter what you have got to say or think about him.

“Did you throw me in here as revenge for your eye, Uncle?” You spoke, throat feeling like it was being prickled by needles because of how much you were holding yourself back from breaking into a fit of sobs and tears.

He raised a brow and then proceeded to scoff. “You really do see me as some tyrant.”

“You chased me on your dragon and made me fall, I could have died!” You shouted, taking a step forward. Your sadness had transformed into anger, and now your tears were flowing freely. A ton of emotions overwhelming your little frame and Aemond saw it.

The tick in his jaw grew, fists still clenched and blood dripping from them. “But you didn't. I found you and I brought you here to keep you safe—”

“Safe? Safe?! You brought me here, to this god forsaken place to keep me safe? Just say it, Uncle.” You fumed, stepping up to the man you once feared. “You wanted to humiliate me. You want me to get used, be some common man's whore.”

Aemond’s patience was running thin and when he imagined you as a whore, it ran out right before you. His feet moved with such ability as he marched in your direction, slamming you against the corner, palms glued to the wall. He breathed down your face, his sharp chin brushing against yours.

Your breath hitched, being this close to your Uncle was completely new and you were rendered speechless.

“The greens will hold you hostage.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “They will parade you around on a fucking horse for the whole of King's Landing to bear witness.”

You stared into his one eye, chest rising up and down as suddenly your body had forgotten how to lure in some air. “Could've taken me home.”

“They would take me hostage for the cause of your injured state.” He whispered, in a much softer tone. “There was nowhere for me to take you in your current state, only here.”

“A brothel, Uncle.” You said, tears once again threatening to spill and they did. Your soft sniffles echoing in the room, remembering what the man had done and how filthy his touch felt. You felt defiled and he hadn't even done something worse, something that could never be taken back. Your bloodied shoulders shook violently from how much you were crying, body going slump and Aemond quickly held you in his arms, not allowing you to succumb to the floor.

His strong arms held you — with overbearing strength, holding you whilst you cried.

In truth, you hated every bit of this war. Things were much better before the death of your grandsire, King Viserys. The crown made people greedy, the more they looked at it. It possessed the type of power which was too overwhelming for anyone and everyone. Like a curse, it slowly poisoned the mind of its bearer. The same was happening with the Greens as they had usurped your mother's throne.

“You should've left me to die.” You managed to say through your broken cries.

Aemond released a bated breath. “It was never my intention for something as grave as that to happen. It was merely an attempt to intimidate you.”

You understood him. Despite all this fucked up shit, you did. You had taken his eye out, left him disabled. His siblings had all their parts but Aemond felt empty, he felt incomplete and you had played a big part in it. Both of you had realized your mistakes a long time ago yet no one owned up to it, no one possessed the courage to reach out the other for closure.

You never apologized for the bullying encouraged by his brother, he never apologized for assaulting your brothers. You never apologized for taking his eye and he never apologized for attempting to intimidate you with his dragon — which made you suffer a great loss. Remotely close to his.

“Arrax,” you sobbed, in the arms of the man who was the cause of your state. “my poor dragon. He was so scared, I could feel it. He was afraid.”

Aemond wanted to apologize. He wanted to because he was aware of a rider’s bond with its dragon. Yet no words left his mouth, his palm running up and down your back rather awkwardly. He had absolutely no idea on what to do with you now. Your forehead was pressed into his chest as you sobbed.

But then you looked up at him, with a piercing gaze. “You are as childish and as pathetic the day I took your fucking eye out, Aemond.” This time you did not address him as your uncle and your words riled him up even more. You were at his mercy, you should not have played with fire like that and Aemond snapped.

“I'm pathetic?” He asked with darkness behind his tone. “You're the one pinned neath me. I could easily have you, take my revenge.”

“You're going to take my eye out, Uncle? Do it. Finish it, once and for all.” You seethed through gritted teeth, glaring at him. Aemond tightened his hold on your frail wrists causing you to wince and flinch. He restrained both hands with one of his and moved the other to grasp your chin, fingers dimpling in your cheeks. “No, I will take something more precious, something that is worth more than an eye to a maiden such as yourself.”

“You wouldn't.” You said, shaking your head after realizing what he was hinting at. You knew the significance of your maidenhood and Aemond was going to hurt you right where it hurt the most. “I am your niece, you would not.”

“Did your mother not marry her uncle, Gevives?” (Beauty)

You flinched at the way his voice dropped when he spoke high valyrian. The situation you were in didn't help either, with Aemond’s whole body weight on top of you but enough to not crush you. The room elevated with tension as you opened your mouth to protest but a knock on the door interrupted you both.

“Come in.”

The door parted, revealing Sylvie along with a cloth in her hand and a bucket of clean water.

“Leave it on the table.” Aemond commanded, not paying her any mind and the woman obliged before leaving the room.

Your uncle reached for the cloth, soaking it into the water. You struggled, squirming in his tenacious grip and all Aemond did was keep his eye on you while he soaked the fabric fully into the water. Once it was soaked enough, he pulled it out and leaned down, face only a few inches apart from yours. Your breath got stuck in your throat.

He swiped the cloth over the blood stains on your collarbones, gently and carefully. The action itself caused arousal to pool in your cunt, your thighs squeezing together and Aemond felt it. He let out a breath, sending it to tingle your skin and you gasped out at how close he was to you.

“The idea of someone else's blood on you vexes me.” Aemond confessed, moving the fabric down to the cups of your small shoulders. He swiped it across the skin, watching as your skin became free from the taints of filth.

You licked your lips, breath ragged. “You have gone insane, Uncle.”

“I have, maybe I truly have.” Aemond’s eye was focused on the sharp bone embedded in your skin, known as your collarbone. His desires were taking the best of him and he hated himself for it. You were his niece, the same little girl who took his fucking eye out and is now his enemy — the same girl who would betray him in a heartbeat for her mother.

Abandon him for her pretender of a mother.

Yet the man did not care enough to stop whatever he was doing.

“How will you take something more precious when it is painfully obvious who is the more experienced brother, according to the rumors of the Keep.” You hissed and Aemond inhaled, a serpent you'd become in such a short span. Aemond stopped cleaning your skin, since he was finished and tossed the fabric aside.

His fingers clamped around your chin. “Keep your mouth fucking shut. You are only tempting me, niece.”

It was obviously a warning but you could not back out, not when you had held hostility all your life towards him. “For all I know, I am not even of your nature. I have heard you like them older, my Prince.” A mischievous smirk ceased your features. It was all a facade to come off strong. “Like her. Is she the one you visit in brothels? You know her too well.”

“Shut your fucking mouth before I shove my cock in it. Would you like that, hm? You're probably a pathetic little slut exactly like your mother.” Aemond threatened, suppressing the urge to strike his hand over your cheek. His grip on your chin tightened, his fingers craning your face up as his breath mingled with yours.

“How sad that the one who is putting all his effort in winning the war was never bound to get the throne nor become the object of his mother's affections.” You taunted and that hit Aemond where you wanted it to hit. “How does it feel, Uncle? To not receive an ounce of love from both your father and mother.”

“At least I am not a bastard.” He spat, and you knew that was coming. It was their one valid argument after all. “I might be a bastard but both my mother and father cherish me, love me, for who I was, for what I am. You are a sad, pathetic case.”

Aemond’s hand moved to your hair, grabbing a fistful of it and pulling you over to the bed to toss you on it like some ragdoll. You gasped when your frail body collided against the bed, feeling it bounce a little. Your brows furrowed as you turned around to face him but Aemond was already standing before you, his knee dipping into the bed.

“Let’s see if that mouth of yours can still produce coherent words when I am fucking your sweet cunt.” Breath uneven and lips shuddering, you stared at him as he pushed aside the curtains of the bed and maneuvered inside, crawling on top of you.

You tried to run, a feeble and failed attempt at escaping from the dragon you had awakened. Aemond locked you in place by one hand around your leg, pinning you down against the bed. His harsh actions made you miss the man in who's arms you had cried and how gently he held you, like you were a lover and not the one he despised the most.

“Even though you never apologized, I forgive you.” He whispered, reaching for his eye and removing the patch to reveal the familiar sapphire again. A reminder of the events that took place between you two.

You felt horrible, guilt overpowering and over consuming. “You threatened me with a stone. I was only protecting myself and my brother.”

“You humiliated me, at every chance you and that bastard brother of yours got. Were the indignities caused by my brother not enough that you two had to join in?” His tone was almost sad and you realized how awfully you had been to him, all for the sake of momentarily fun. The picture from his side was painted cruelly and your lips shivered.

Was apologizing going to be enough?

Is it going to be enough when your uncle was on top of you, about to commit the most vilest of crime.

“I'm sorry.” Came a wholehearted whisper from you, a sad expression adorning your face. “It is not enough to bring your eye back or take back everything and you do not have—”

“I told you, I forgive you.” He said, his hand cupping your shoulder, fingers tugging underneath the sleeve hanging around your arm. “But you must be punished. You must face the consequences of your own actions.”

“Uncle, we were children.” You attempted to justify but that was like sprinkle of fuel to the fire.

Aemond pulled your sleeve, causing it to rip and your eyes widened in horror. His other hand ripped the other sleeve as he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your lips. You were not only terrified but weirdly aroused too. Your uncle's anger was obvious but the subtle change between his rough tugs and gentle kisses left you light headed as well as overwhelmed. You breathed in, and then released it, in hopes that he would calm down but Aemond was too far gone.

“Uncle, stop it.” He tried to push at his chest.

Aemond grabbed your wrists, locking them over his chest. “I will only stop once I put a silver haired bastard inside you.”

“Fucking me in a whorehouse, putting a bastard in me. You have truly planned this out, no?” You said, putting up a strong facade but deep down you were scared. You did not wish to give birth to a bastard, knowing you yourself were one. Born out of wedlock to your mother and her guard, sir Harwin strong.

You knew how badly were they treated and the thought of giving birth to one pained you.

“Would you be so cruel to put a babe in me and then abandon it?” You asked — staring up at him with glossy eyes. You writhed in his hold but to no avail as his one hand clamped over your wrist while the other moved to tug at your neckline, causing your breasts to spill out.

Aemond hissed. He'd realized you had grown now and you were not the same little girl who helped his brother make his life a living hell. Your nipples rosy and hardened and he sighed, fondling the plush fat. “The image of you walking around dragonstone with my silver haired bastard tugging at the skirt of your dress, demanding attention. A reminder of what his father did to you swells my cock.”

“Get off me. You're fucking mad if you think I would carry your children.” Your endeavors to fight him were a lost cause, trying to land punches at his chest but they were gone in vain. Aemond had control, he had power over you by being stronger, more muscular. “I will drink moon tea. You cannot force me to have your child."

“Then I must keep you here and breed you every single night until you are swollen with my babe.”

He got off you and flipped you on your stomach, hands covetously ripping apart the expensive chiffon dress, revealing your bare back. Your small shoulders trembling and chills dancing down the small of your back when the cold air brushed against your skin.

“Stop it.” It came out muffled as Aemond buried your face into the mattress.

Not only had he intended to fuck you, he was going to do it like you were some common whore. Either taking you on your back or on your stomach. You bit back a soft cry as his fingertips danced across your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Tears glossed your vision and you let out a tentative whimper when his hand groped a handful of your plush ass.

“It is time to pay the consequences of your actions, Bastard.” Aemond’s words were hoarse making you flinch.

He had locked you in place with his own body and soon enough he also stripped himself off his attire. You could not see, but you could hear the metallic jingling of his sword and dagger against one another, his belt and briefs shuffling together. Aemond’s hand flew back to grip your nape, forcing your face deeper into the pillow.

Your body was not fully bare as his, some aspects still covered by the tethered pieces of fabric.

Aemond reached over and hoisted you up into his arms, pushing your body on your palms and knees. Despite your struggle and continuous objection, he still managed to put you in the most degrading position ever. You were like a fucking animal — ass pushed out for him and the tears finally fell. His fingers dug into the side of your hips, holding you in place.

“I hate you, I fucking hate you.”

Your constant expressions of your loathsome did not bother Aemond in the slightest. Your mouth did not matter to him, it was your cunt that did. He didn't even mind to prepare you, all he did was align his hardened leaking tip at your soaked hole and pushed. Loud grunts and high pitched whimpers tore through you both as you felt him breach your maidenhead and defile you with determination. Bittersweet pain had blossomed in between your thighs, your cunt a bleeding mess but Aemond continued, pushing his cock furthermore until he was fully sheathed inside your walls.

“The cunt of a bastard is surely more pleasurable than a whore's. I shouldn't let you go to dragonstone, I should make you my personal little whore. For me to use and breed.”

Your cries of pain and broken sobs did not falter him as he relished them — enjoying the way your hiccups sounded. Frail and light, allowing him to have the pleasure of revenge he was denied off all his life. But not anymore, as he had you right where he wanted. This humiliation was much better than taking your eye out.

“A-Aemond,” you sobbed mindlessly, trying to wriggle out of his grasp which lead it to grow firmer. “hurts, please it hurts. Be gentle, please for the Gods.”

You knew that begging him to stop was futile but maybe if you begged enough for him to be gentle, he would be kind enough to not ravage you like some beast. Your broken little sobs worked in your favor as Aemond allowed you a few moments to adjust to the sheer size of his manhood, as he had forgiven you after all.

He did not loathe you.

He only wished for consequences, for revenge.

This was it.

Aemond lowered his face next to your ears, taut chest pressed over your sweaty spine as he whispered in your ear. “If I don't take you now, I would continue to harbor ill intentions for you. This is for the best.”

It was all a lie, a way to manipulate you.

You nodded, finally succumbing and Aemond felt a strong overwhelming sense of victory wash over him.

He slowly pulled out of you before drilling back inside you, repeatedly and over the course of him pummeling his cock inside you, you became a writhing, blubbering mess. It was too much for your little body as Aemond continuously fucked his cock into you. Built like him it was. Long, slender and you'd assumed it was as beautiful as him too.

Your hands were let go from their tight hold and you found them buried into the soft sheets, fingers intertwined with the pale pillows and sheets. Each thrust sent your body forwards and you whined, feeling his cock head bruise your cervix, aiming upwards for that perfect spot of yours.

“Oh!” Your eyes rolled back to your skull at one particular thrust, feeling him hit an area unexplored.

Aemond’s brows creased together, realizing he had finally found the sweet spot he was hunting for. His movement grew relentless, in fast, deep drills he abused that sensitive area as he watched you ascend deeper into the stairs to heaven. Your knuckles had gone white from the strong hold and your knees shivered from Aemond’s force.

“If you'd given yourself up to me like this, I would not have had to hunt you to satisfy my thirst for revenge.” Aemond panted, his words accompanied by loud striking sounds of skin meeting skin. “You should have visited my chambers when you took my fucking eye out. Should have stripped naked, spread your legs for me to take your sweet cunt.”

“Please, stop,” came a broken murmur from you, wishing to forget about that god forsaken night. “d–didn't want to do it, didn't want to hurt you. I was scared, was terrified of Vhagar.”

“But you did. You took out my eye, left me hideous.” Aemond had always felt monstrous, empty and incomplete. These feelings were all gifted by you and now he wanted you to feel the same.

Left incomplete, defiled and empty.

Aemond’s hand moved down to grab a fistful of your hair from the roots, pulling up until you two were one body. His chest over your spine, as he fucked himself into you, deep and vigorous strokes. Tears streamed in tiny rivulets down your face, as Aemond circled another arm around your breasts, holding you in place to fuck you like you were some doll made for his sickly pleasures.

You made the grave mistake of moving your head and found him already staring at you. Lips parted, letting out breathless little pants and the sapphire danced in his empty socket, a reminder of your actions. He saw you, close and noticed all the features littered across your face. The freckles over your nose, the dark strands clinging to your perspired forehead and the way your nose scrunched up whenever he thrusted inside you. Gods, you were a heavenly sight, one that only he was fortunate enough to witness.

Aemond fought back the urge to claim your lips in a kiss — that action too intimate, than using your cunt to satisfy his hunger.

But eventually caved in as he took your lips into an aggressive lock, a firm kiss it was. He bite and licked at your lips, shoving a wet tongue past the pair and slithering inside like a snake. You whined, hoping that he would slow down but Aemond devoured you like a starved mad man. Teeth clashing with teeth, tongue battling with tongue, he swallowed all the little sounds you produced. His gruesome kiss had left you lightheaded when he pulled back to look at you.

In a daze you appeared.

Aemond stared at your swollen lips while you gazed upon his lips, dumbfounded and taken aback by his sudden desire to kiss you like a beast.

“I-I don't find you hideous.” It was a whimper but it caused his thrusts to stall, coming to a halt. He stared at you, surprised by your words and his stomach burned in anticipation knowing well enough you would say something worse.

But what you said next left him astonished and with a newly ignited desire. “I think you're.. pretty, prettier than Aegon.”

You couldn't compare him to your brothers as the famous targaryen features were not shared amongst them but Aegon had the same features as Aemond yet you have always found him the most prettiest Targaryen man ever. He was slim, but not in a bad way — he had the right amount of muscles and perfect height. Aemond possessed the type of beauty which did not decrease by losing an eye.

“A lie.” He growled, shaking his head.

You looked at him with the most innocent doe eyes. “I mean it. Losing an eye did not make you hideous, Aemond. You are still as beautiful as ever.”

He didn't respond and his impassive face told you that he was not phased by your genuine words but Aemond felt fucking butterflies nip at his stomach. His cock hardened even more if that were possible and he dropped you on the bed, continuing his assault. His hips snapped deliberately inside you, with newfound vigor and strength. You gasped out, your gummy walls tightening around his length as he drilled his cock inside you.

The compliment, the validation he'd received from you and how genuine it was — it drove him mad. Even his own mother failed to comfort him but you, the fucking preparator out of all people managed to. It angered him but also soothed over the burn you'd left.

Aemond felt his peak near, dancing around him and soon he reached it — his hips stuttering and his hot seed spurting inside you in ropes. “Fuck, fuck. I should fill you up and leave you here. A fucking whore with a Targaryen bastard.” You felt him taint your insides, leaving a mark that would always linger like how you'd left a scar on his face. Feeling his seed fill you up, you also unravelled as Aemond fucked the hot fluid into your womb, making sure you end up with a babe of his own.

Your eyes saw white and your thighs twitched, knees giving out and body finally colliding into the sheets. Yet Aemond continued thrusting, the wet squelching sound of your peak mixed with his grossing you out. Your tears had dried so more were released, going the same route as the ones from before.

You couldn't even resist anymore, nor rebel.

Aemond pulled his softened cock out of you and watched as your destroyed, gaping hole threw up his spent. It was hot and he shuddered at the thought of you swollen with his child.

He should've hated the idea of your breasts leaking with milk for his babe, swollen and peaked but instead he found himself aching to witness it in real life, not some fucked up imagination. He couldn't take you, as badly as he wished to. You were not his to keep but he was letting you go with a piece of him inside your womb.

He laid with you, but you'd not expected him to lay an arm over your small waist. Your body spent and completely frail from his monstrosity but Aemond wished for more, he craved more yet he gave you time to rejuvenate and collect yourself.

“Did you mean it?”

You raised your gaze at him, bemused.

“A-About me, being pretty. Did you mean it or was that also to deceive me?” He asked, failing to make eye contact. He stared ahead at the ceiling and you nodded your head slowly, throat parched. “I did. I would not lie about that.”

His chest swell up with an unfathomable feeling, something beyond his own understanding as he pulled you closer to him, subconsciously. Aemond was in a dilemma, confused about what had to be done. He wanted to be more cruel, more horrible but it was not in him to show you more cruelty than you deserved.

[gracexthoughts]

Māzigon arlī naejot issa.

(Come back to me)

jacaerys velaryon x betrothed!reader

warnings; talk of injuries and blood, canon divergence, angst ending with comfort summary; reader was sent to rook’s rest and when she returns injured, jace nearly looses his mind  a/n; reader is targaryen and in my head she is maybe rhaenyra’s cousin but i didn’t feel like fleshing out a whole family for her so you can use your imagination. 

Jacaerys has been going mad. The Lady Y/N has been gone for hours, and every second more that the Prince was ignorant of her fate was a second closer to him flying off in search of her. She’d volunteered to fly to Rook’s Rest and face Cole’s army herself. Her dragon, Silverwing, is the largest dragon with a rider second only to Vhagar, but she’s been gone too long for the prince’s liking. He’d begged her not to go, begged his mother to send him instead, and neither had listened. He couldn’t deny the logic of the choice, but the longer she stayed at battle, the more images of her broken and bloody flooded her betrothed’s mind. 

The Prince and the Queen stand on the balcony off his chambers. Queen Rhaenyra has tried calming her son, but to no avail. The sun nears the horizon, setting the sky on fire in shades of gold and red, but Jacaerys only watches for signs of his betrothed. 

“I’m going after her,” Jacaerys blurts out, unable to contain himself any longer, pushing off the stone half wall. 

“No,” the queen says firmly, moving to block her son’s path. Ever since the death of Prince Lucerys, the queen has kept her eldest son close, refusing to send him out on dragon back. 

“She should have been back by now! I will not just sit here and await news of her fate,” the prince argues, his voice strained and fraught. The Queen’s heart aches at the panic in her son’s eyes. 

“Y/N is a fierce dragon rider. I am confident she will return soon,” she says placatingly, reaching up to cup his cheek, but Jacaerys pushes her away. 

“No, I can’t just sit here. She’s to be my wife; I’m meant to protect her, not sit safely by in a castle while she risks her life protecting my birthright!” The prince exclaims and pushes through the doors to his chambers, but a dragon’s shriek stops him in his path. He whips around, his eyes scanning the skies for the sight of his betrothed. And then he sees her. 

Jacaerys sprints through the halls of Dragonstone, his steps echoing against the stone as he makes his way out of the castle. He should feel relieved, but the prince cannot shake the fear clutching at his heart. 

As Jacaeryrs reaches the mouth of the Dragonmount, all his fears come to the forefront. Y/N isn’t in the saddle; instead, she’s clutched in the silver claws of her dragon, her arm hanging limply down. Silverwing sets her down gently before landing herself, and Jacaerys swears he can see the sadness in her massive silver eyes. “No, no, no,” Jacaerys mutters, dropping to his knees next to her body, tears blurring his vision as he pulls her body to him. Her clothes are covered in blood and singed, an arrow lodged in her shoulder, and a gash on her side. Her silver hair is dark with ash and crimson, but breath still moves through her lips shallowly, a small beacon of hope. Without any thought but her care, he scoops her into his arms, cradling the body of his betrothed to his chest and running as fast as he can back to the castle. 

“Call the master!” He bellows to the first guard he sees, his voice fraught and cracking, the princely tone he maintains forgotten in his panic. “Hold on, my love.”

As he pushes his way through the doors of the castle, the Grand Maester and the queen, followed by Ser Lorrent, rush towards the pair. “Help her!” The prince shrieks at the maester, all manners forgotten, and his expression is wild with fear. Used to such behavior, Grand Maester Gerardys simply nods and inspects the body in the prince’s arms. 

“We’ll take her to her chambers. I’ll meet you there,” he says and turns, hurrying off to gather supplies. Ser Lorrent steps forward, his arms outstretched, to take the girl from the prince, but Jacaerys pushes past him, following after the maester up to the stairs and hurries to her apartments. 

As they reach her chambers, the prince lays her down gently on her bed, not caring for the state of her bedclothes. He stays close to her side as the maester gathers his things, watching her closely to make sure she stays breathing. Soon, Geradys comes to her side. “Excuse me, my prince,” he says softly to the young prince, but he doesn’t seem to hear. Rhaenyra steps forward, her hand wrapping around her son’s shoulder. 

“Darling, let the Grand Maester work,” she says softly, pulling Jacaerys back a few steps. Rhaenyra tries to coax him away to wash and change, as he is now covered in his betrothed’s blood, but he refuses. 

“No, I won’t leave her,” he says, pulling against his mother. 

“We won’t; just give him space, my darling,” she coos, pulling him to her and wrapping her arms around her darling son, whose body is shaking. He relents to his mother’s pull, allowing him to be held like a child as he watches the maester struggle to keep the love of his life in the world of the living. 

Nearly an hour later, the maester turns to the prince and queen, blood staining his front and hands and his eyes weary. “I’ve done all I can, your Grace, my Prince. It is up to her spirit and the gods now. But she is a fighter, if ever there was one,” the Geradys says, his eyes soft for the Prince of Dragonstone. The Queen thanks him, but Jacaerys isn’t listening, moving forward numbly. He kneels next to the bed, his shaking hands reaching for hers, the ash and blood washed clean by the maester. He presses a gentle kiss on her skin, gripping her hand tightly between his own. 

“Y/N, my love,” the Crown Prince whispers, reaching up to brush a strand of silver hair from her brow. “You have to fight. Please, you can’t... I can’t lose you as well, please. Kostilus, māzigon arlī naejot issa. Ko-Kostilus,” he begs, his throat closed tightly as tears slip down his cheeks. Please, come back to me. 

***

It’s a full day before Y/N wakes, and Jacaerys has refused to leave her side. Late afternoon light shines into the room, beams of light cutting the air and washing it in an amber glow. Amethyst eyes flutter open, blinking in the brightness of the room. 

“Jace?” She mutters; her voice is rough and her throat is burning. 

“Y/N!” Jace gasps, jumping up from his seat in the center of the room to kneel at her side, gingerly taking her hand in his. “You’re awake!” he laughs in relief, his vision blurring with tears of joy. He drinks her in, her weary smile, and the lilac swirls in her eyes he thought he’d never see again. 

“How long-?” She begins groggily, attempting to sit up by the wound in her abdomen, causing her to grimace. Jacaerys gently pushes her back down to the pillows.

“Don’t move, my love. Silverwing brought you back one evening past. You were,” the prince swallows, his throat constricting at the memory, “badly wounded. Gods, I feared you’d not wake.” He reaches for her, his calloused hand cradling her head. 

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, my prince,” she smiles. Even wounded and weak, her humor remains. Jacaerys laughs through his tears, moving to sit on the bed and covering her face in kisses, making her giggle until it causes too much pain in her stomach. 

“What happened?” Jace asks, sitting back and holding her hand tightly. 

“Aemond was there, and Aegon. It was a trap,” she sighs, grimacing. “We were engaged with Sunfyre when Vhagar appeared... I had to fly close to the ground to get out from between the pair, and their archers took advantage.” 

“Gods, I will kill both of them for laying a hand on you,” the prince says, his voice crackling with anger.

“I’m alright, Jace,” she coos, reaching up to cradle his beautiful face in her hands. His anger subsides at her touch, her gentleness soothing the fires raging inside him. 

“You’re wounded; you nearly died. If you’d arrived minutes later, you would have been passed by the time you returned to me. My love, Icouldn’t bear it if you-”

“Jace-”

“Promise me. Please just promise me you’ll be more careful,” the prince implores, his amber eyes fierce and wide. 

“I promise, Jace. I do, and I will,” she says earnestly, their eyes locked for a long moment. “Come here,” she whispers, pulling on his hands to bring him closer. “Lay with me?” 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You could never. Please?” Y/N’s eyes plead with the prince, and he forgets any notion of courtly manners or what is proper for two betrotheds as he comes to lay in her bed. Careful of her injuries, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her frame into his, and she rests her head against his chest, sighing in relief at returning home to him. There they lay, the future king and queen of the Seven Kingdoms, basking in each other’s warmth and thanking the gods for another day of safety in this war.

[inknopewetrust]

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞, 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝.

Summary: After days of uncertainty, you catch Aemond in the throne room and envision the future of what power can hold. [Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader] [WC: 2.8k]

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, smut, oral (f receiving), public sex, exhibitionism, overstimulation, enemies to lovers dynamic.

Quick Links: Masterlist | gif by @vizual-demon

“Knee deep in the [throne room] and you’re eating me out… is it casual now?”

“Do you always look so smug after killing your own blood?”

In your shadows, Aemond Targaryen stared at the Iron Throne in the storm.

Thunder eclipsed the skies over the castle. In the late evening, you could feel the shocks of lightning beneath your fingertips as they grazed the columns of marble that flanked the room. Each scream of anger echoed through the stones, you could hear it so clearly.

You could see him in the shadows of the throne.

Aemond Targaryen had returned from battle two days ago.

In those two days, the world had changed drastically compared to the one that it was before. A King incapacitated, a legend buried in the rubble of a fallen house, and two sides burning as bright as the cascading terror above.

The tide was shifting and the power in the halls was striking.

Aemond’s arms hung limp at his sides. For someone so thirsty for the power the room held, his apathetic nature would bury him. He could see the darkness of the swords; twisting and bleeding each person dry for their aspirations.

He wanted to be someone who was remembered.

Aemond Targaryen did not want to be immortalized in history as a weak member of the greatest family to ever exist in this world. In his dreams he saw a man of profound strength and terror—someone who reigned a fearsome government with unyielding standards.

In his cruelty, he wanted people to see a person who would not sacrifice his name for peace.

So yes, he was a bit smug at Rhaenys’ demise and ultimately Aegon’s injury. He would not be in this position now had he not done what was asked of him.

But he didn’t answer you—Aemond did not feel the need to acknowledge it because he knew you understood. Even if you were to be cutting and cynical, Aemond knew you rationalized his beliefs in a similar fashion.

And that enticed him.

You had always enticed him. So simple yet cunning, an outsider amongst the other ladies in your class. You were not a whore, you were not a mother, and yet he wanted to know what it felt like to be a feign of your touch.

How would your hands feel on his body? Your delicate fingers wrapped around him?

“Ah,” you ticked at him, pushing off the stone pillar and moving in his direction. “You see, My Prince, when you allow a dragon’s head to be paraded for the city to see, people are going to notice.”

“Power is power. We needn’t parade it unless it was necessary to remind them who they should bend the knee to.”

“At the ill will of a sacred creature?”

Meleys was once a beautiful dragon. It was such a shame that the second time you were able to witness her beauty it was in the butchered attempt of showing off. The grandstanding sickened the soil.

“It does not take a Targaryen to understand that.”

“What would you know of Targaryen customs?” He spoke back. His voice was thin and dry. “You will never know.”

“I apologize… for my lowly status is not on par with such a great house. I am sure my Lord Father would appreciate the sentiment.”

You have a coy, playful smile that he could feel in his bones. The kind that would chide him, never take him too seriously, and one that rarely doubted him.

It was an uneasy feeling. One he would never quite get used to.

“His ambitions are not unknown. How people without power seek it.”

“Is that not why there are whispers of what you have done?” You questioned and his hands turned to fists quickly. “Small folk talk, Aemond. Power is power but when you misuse it, the omen may come true.”

The omen hovered like the storm above. The God’s were battling in the realm in the sky; giants of proportions unfathomable in their richness of blood. They scorched and rattled in the sky as cracks of thunder rumbled throughout the Keep.

“Yet I speak nothing of it,” he eyed you solemnly. “You talk of rumors and fallacies as if they hold truth. Perhaps it is I who should ask where your loyalties preside? Does war scare you?”

Aemond approached you with long strides. His hands lingered at his sides but never held onto his hilt, threatening you with violence or harm for your disagreements.

He could see you did not fear war. Your father would have called on your return if the prospect of war scared a house with the name of your own. A prominent family in the Vale—to the Greens you were a key.

And he could play you a fiddle if you let him.

“No,” you replied, keeping your head tall. “I live in a gilded tower.”

“That has been infiltrated before. It has seen death before.”

“They do not seek me,” your eyes ran along his face as the sky illuminated his sharp features. “But you know that.”

Aemond hummed and in a moment of faulted want, his right hand reached to brush your own. The electricity of shock pulsing through your veins as though it was as important as blood itself.

You swallowed the nervousness that built in your throat at his actions. He was so sure of himself, so different from the man you had known before.

He took his sins and bathed in them. Aemond let the water dry in confidence of himself as Prince Regent. If he was going to rule in his brother’s stead, he needed the reverie of power to seep inside of him.

“Men will seek anything if they are given the chance.”

You traced the direction of his eyes to your hand, how he ghostly itched to touch you again.

“And what is it that you seek?” You questioned quietly. “Is being a ruler not enough?”

In the lull, your ears filled themselves with the sound of your heartbeat. Pumping and beating to the thrills of anticipation you sought in the sordid walls of an ugly Keep. To please a King, well… It was a dangerous thing.

Aemond’s hand touched yours loosely again. His fingers gently grazed yours with a profound intent that was something he sought.

“No,” he admitted. “It is not.”

His hand bypassed yours and rested lowly on your hip. The touch stilled you. In the darkness of the hall, the world stopped moving and your vision tunneled. His hand moved higher to rest upon the crux of your hip and stomach, thumb caressing the fabric of your dress. He stepped closer.

Without thinking, you took a step back out of the chills that erupted on your skin, not out of want. He took the space you created and closed it again but followed you as you moved backwards and backwards until your back hit one of the marble columns you had hid behind not twenty minutes earlier.

One of your hands caught yourself on the column and the other wove itself around a post. The wings of the throne room were elevated for spectators that were nonexistent now.

Aemond’s other hand mirrored the other and he held you there.

“If someone came looking for you,” he huffed, tilting his head to the side which allowed his eye to narrow. “What would you let them do to you?”

You furrowed your brows yet the feel of his hands burning through your dress allowed your mouth to run dry.

Nothing. You would let them do nothing to you. You would fight to the death to defend yourself but if it were Aemond, you would let him devour you.

“What about me, hm?” There was a faint smile on his lips. “What would you let me, your Prince Regent, do to you while the Gods watched over us?”

His hands slithered up your torso, drawing a staggered breath from you as he cupped your breasts over your dress and groped hard to feel the flesh. Aemond saw your chest stutter under his touch.

“Tell me,” he whispered, pulling his head in close to yours. His lips became a mere centimeter from yours; breath lingering in the space between you heavy and taught.

“I-I-I,” your nerves got the better of you. Stumbling over your words like a dolt, his hands moved back down and began to gather your dress in his hands. 

“Poised to stick pins where the plans now lie but a stuttering fool now.” 

“I am not a fool,” you huffed as the cool night air began to make itself known against your ankles, then your shins. “I know what I want.” 

Aemond leaned in, knocking his nose gently with yours. 

“Tell me,” he repeated. 

“I want you to touch me,” you instructed him. “I want to feel the mouth of a King on my lips and under the Gods I do sin, but I wish to feel his lips elsewhere.” 

“Oh?” Aemond hummed as his hands continued their path. “I may not hold the title of King-” 

“You are a King, Aemond,” you said assertively and his hands stopped. 

“You rule in the place of Aegon’s incapacity and by all law and rules, you are the one to carry the heavy sword. You speak the actions and see them true.” 

His Adam’s apple bobbed at the reality. 

Aemond’s power lingered. It lingered in this great hall but it was a shell. The Aemond he felt in his bones was still as scared as the one who killed Lucerys. 

“I wish to feel your lips elsewhere,” you whispered, breath fanning his face. He tilted his head upwards and for a split second, his lips touched yours. 

Intoxicating; you would have fallen to your knees had you not already wished to see him on his. 

“I want to see a King on his knees.”

Aemond could only smirk. He planted a quick, brief kiss on your lips before bunching up the skirt of your dress as he knelt down to the floor. A beckoning, ethereal call from above led him to his knees to worship. With his hands collecting the material of your dress, Aemond’s hands met yours and opened them the best he could for you to grab onto it. He used the leverage of your assistance to bring down your stockings, clear the way of his alter as the thunder roared from above.

You let your head fall back against the pillar as his hands roamed your thighs, inching higher and higher but still skimming past the now unguarded temple.

You could not help but look at the exits in view as though someone would walk through them at this hour.

This late hour when all of the good, pious Lord and Ladies, Prince and Princesses, laid in their beds asleep—sans the King he would never fault himself for burning.

“Aemond,” you spoke with a voice that shook. “What if someone were to see us?”

He stopped his hands, gazing up at you from the ground on which he knelt.

“Let them see then,” he kissed the front of your thighs. “If they see, then I will marry you.”

Fuck. It made your heart leap in your chest. A frog in your throat, the honesty in his eye was enough for your anxieties to settle but your excitement to grow.

He would marry you. What a world you wished you lived in.

If all were true, it would have happened the first time he touched you. 

“Drop your dress,” he ordered.

Without hesitation, you dropped the skirt of your dress and he vanished before your eyes.

But you could feel him.

You could feel the breath of his body releasing itself just beyond where you ached for him the most. His grip on your thighs was bruising. Aemond used his position to prop one of your legs on his shoulder, sending you off balance and into the bannister behind you.

But then his hot breath met where you wanted him and the feeling melted you from the inside. Aemond peppered kisses on your mound, waiting until the perfect moment to lick a stripe through your folds and with it, you folded yourself. 

Daydreams of his hands on yours was not enough. The feel of your hand in the solitude of night where the sins of pleasure were trapped behind heavy doors could not compare. Aemond attached himself to your flesh and sucked, hard, before lapping again in a more gentle fashion. He repeated it again and again until the wetness began to gather more audibly. 

There was no stopping the breathless pants escaping your lips. 

You gripped hard on the marbled post. If you were the strongest woman in the Seven Kingdoms, you could have crushed it beneath your fingertips. Aemond’s tongue laded the wetness and gathered it in a lewd slurping noise to your clit only to run his tongue over it in brisk movements. 

“Aemond-” you swallowed your moan. Knees threatening to buckle, you wanted to grip onto him. Your hands sought his shoulders, his head or hair, and a soft bed. 

The Iron Throne was taunting you in the background. Power so divine, so close yet a million miles away. 

Aemond wouldn’t marry you, but in the moment, you would live sinfully until the Gods caught you in truth. 

He let out a low hum that made your senses tingle. He too was enjoying the pleasure he could bring, growing his own in his trousers that begged for its own mercy. Aemond could feel you palm at his head from the fabric that fell over his head—a delicacy; the rapture of someone he could love one day if he let himself. 

Your helpless want forced you to roll your hips against his face as though his tongue was not enough. Aemond gripped your hips tightly to guide you against his mouth. 

“Shit.” The words fell from your lips freely. 

“Aemond, I don’t think I will fare much longer,” you admitted to him and felt yourself burn from the inside. His accommodations to your wants, the fluidity of his tongue against you in need was sending you barreling toward the edge. 

Your mewls became whines that rivaled the thunder. 

In an instant, he removed his mouth from yours and appeared from under your skirts. Your clit throbbed as the blood began to rush downwards and a sickening wetness that was not your finish began to trickle down your leg. 

“Wha-” 

You could not speak before his lips met yours aggressively. You could taste yourself on his lips and for a second, you wanted to recoil at the thought but his hands cupped the back of your head softly and everything melted into you. 

You wished he would marry you. 

“I am not done,” he broke the kiss and admitted. “But I could not hold that in any longer.” 

His sentiment took you aback. Your eyes searched for a lie; begging for a fallacy to come true and reveal itself in the ugly colors of night but there was nothing. There was nothing but truth and in it, it broke your heart in the slightest. 

Aemond wanted to kiss you. He wanted to please you, pleasure you, hold you tightly as a husband would do but he wouldn’t marry you. 

He couldn’t marry you. 

But he would love you in the depths of darkness as his power soared for a brief moment in time and the hands of a fair lady, opposed by his mother, warmed his bed in the evening. May the throne be his witness, Aemond Targaryen was a sinner. 

He kissed you again before falling to his knees once more. 

As promised, he worked in quick licks to ignite the spark. It lit up the room brighter than the sky as the Gods boomed in discontent but they worked to drown out the sounds of your elation the closer you became. Aemond let you gather the dress back in your hands so you could see him as his tongue circled your clit and he pierced your cunt with two fingers sliding in the wetness easily. Your legs trembled. His other hand ran soft strokes along the muscle to sooth you but it was fruitless. 

His fingers curved inside of you, massaging your walls as they clenched around him and swore to the heavens for a release. 

“Fuck, Aemond.” 

He enjoyed hearing the words no Queen would dare mutter. It dared him to move faster, to move more heavy against your walls, against your lips as he continued to lap the juices that made the ghosts in the halls look away in a blush. 

It was building to a precipice inside of you. As though a volcano was erupting, you let out sounds he had never heard. You were not trying to be quiet. You were letting the castle hear your pleasure that would send you to a horrible fate. 

And you begged him to bring you to the end. His name lost its true meaning as it became lost in the night, falling from your lips breathlessly and your eyes shut tightly as the chills in your spin sent you spiraling. 

He was no God, but Aemond Targaryen gave what he had as a God should. 

“Darling,” he murmured from below. “Let them all see what a King can do.” 

And you did. 

A/N: thanks for reading! As always comments, reblog, and likes are always appreciated. I love hearing from all of you and thanks for letting me write this little self indulgent fic.

[elikajinnie]

You Taste So Sweet - P.S

P: Vampire!Sunghoon X Fem!Reader (16+)

Warnings: Blood, Blood Drinking, Teasing, Slight Stalking, Suggestive Content, Fated Lovers, Ambigious Ending, Predator/Prey.

Wordcount: 16,6k

Synopsis: A camping trip turns into a nightmare when a dare leads you to a vampire's castle. Instead of death, you find an alluring vampire who desires your heart and soul. As his obsession grows, you realize escaping his grasp may be impossible because he wants you more than anything.

a/n: as a kid.. i remember having a mega crush on the 3 vampire wives from Van Helsing :D but anyways, so i got some of the vampire ability ideas from @ yjskat on TikTok :) So credits to them! i also did alot of research for these themes :)

੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

Ever since you were young, you were captivated by stories of mythical creatures—centaurs galloping across ancient forests, sirens luring sailors to their doom, vampires lurking in the shadows, and werewolves howling at the full moon. But as fascinating as these tales were, you never believed them. Why would they exist in the real world, especially now, in an age of science and reason?

Maybe that’s why you found yourself standing in front of a hundred-year-old castle deep in the woods. It had started innocently enough—just a weekend camping trip with some friends, far away from civilization and the distractions of the internet. After the sun had long ago dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky a blanket of darkness, you had all gathered around the campfire, pulling out flashlights to illuminate your faces in the flickering glow.

The night began with laughter and harmless stories, but somehow, things had taken a turn. One of your friends had brought up a legend—a vampire said to live in a castle not far from where you had set up camp. At first, you scoffed. Vampires? In this day and age? No way.

That’s when the dare came up. Prove it. Spend the night in the castle, and if you came back in the morning with nothing to show but a few laughs, they'd drop it. You, stubborn as always, accepted without a second thought. How bad could it be?

But now, as you stood before the towering, ancient structure, its stone walls covered in moss and shadows that seemed to shift and breathe in the moonlight, the weight of your decision settled in. The castle loomed above you, its dark, jagged spires reaching into the starless sky. For a moment, you swore the whole place was alive, like the stone itself was moving beneath your feet, pulsing with something ancient.

The wind whispered through the skeletal branches of trees surrounding the castle, and the heavy iron gates creaked eerily in front of you, almost as if they were beckoning you in. You laughed nervously, trying to brush off the unsettling feeling creeping up your spine.

“There’s nothing here,” you muttered, tugging the strap of your bag tighter across your shoulder as if it could shield you from the growing unease. The gate groaned as you squeezed through the narrow opening, and with a deep breath, you started up the path toward the castle. Each step felt heavier than the last, and you couldn’t help but glance up at the looming structure. It was completely dark inside, not a single flicker of light behind the cracked, weathered windows.

You sighed, trying to shake off the creeping dread. Of course, it’s dark. No one’s lived here for ages. You were about to convince yourself of that when a sudden rustling beside you caught your attention. Instinctively, you whipped your flashlight toward the sound, heart pounding. A black raven sat perched in a twisted tree, its beady eyes fixed on you. For a moment, neither of you moved, staring each other down in the silent night. Then, with a sharp caw, it spread its wings and soared toward the castle, disappearing into the darkness above.

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” you muttered under your breath, trying to ignore the way your pulse was racing. Forcing yourself to keep moving, you continued up the path, the shadow of the castle growing larger with each step.

The gravel crunched beneath your boots as you approached the heavy oak doors of the castle. The flashlight beam trembled slightly in your hand, casting long, jagged shadows on the stone. You paused in front of the entrance, staring up at the intricately carved door. The wood was ancient, worn down by centuries of wind and rain, yet still sturdy, almost intimidating.

You hesitated. Behind you, the forest was eerily silent, save for the distant rustling of leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl. It was as if the woods were holding their breath, waiting for you to make a move.

Steeling yourself, you reached out and placed your hand on the cold metal handle. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, but you ignored it, forcing yourself to push the door open with a loud creak that echoed through the empty halls inside.

The air inside was thick and musty, the scent of dust and decay hitting you as soon as you stepped over the threshold. You swept the flashlight across the entrance hall, revealing towering pillars and grand, faded tapestries hanging from the walls. Cobwebs clung to the ceiling, and the floor was littered with debris—remnants of a place long forgotten.

You sighed again, this time in a mix of relief and unease. There was no sign of anything unusual. No vampires, no strange noises, nothing that would suggest the castle was anything more than an abandoned relic. “See? Nothing to worry about,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the vast, empty space.

But just as you were about to take another step, a loud thud echoed from somewhere deep within the castle. You froze, heart leaping into your throat as the sound reverberated through the halls. Your flashlight flickered for a second, casting the shadows into an eerie dance.

“It’s fine,” you whispered again, but this time, the words felt hollow. You weren’t so sure anymore.

You exhaled slowly, trying to steady your nerves. “It’s fine,” you muttered once more, as if saying it enough times would make it true. Deciding to set up camp before your imagination got the better of you, you unrolled your sleeping bag by the entrance. The cold stone floor sent a chill through your body as you knelt down, but you forced yourself to ignore it. After making sure your bag was securely in place, you sat back for a moment, listening to the unsettling quiet.

The idea of staying right by the door for the night was reassuring—at least you could make a quick escape if anything went wrong. But despite that small comfort, your curiosity gnawed at you. The castle felt… alive, in a way. You had already come this far, and the stories your friends had told around the campfire echoed in your mind, tempting you to explore further.

Grabbing your flashlight, you stood up, feeling an odd mixture of excitement and dread. You hadn’t come here just to sleep by the entrance. If you were going to prove there was nothing lurking in the dark, you had to see the castle for yourself. Maybe then you could return to camp in the morning and laugh it off with everyone else.

The long corridor ahead of you beckoned, its darkened arches seeming to stretch into the unknown. Your footsteps echoed against the stone as you cautiously made your way deeper into the castle. The air grew colder the further you went, as if the walls themselves were closing in around you.

The place was clearly abandoned, but it felt like you weren’t alone. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something—or someone—was watching you from the shadows.

Suddenly, you heard it again. Thud.

This time, it was louder, more distinct. It sounded like something heavy had fallen, or perhaps… something had been moved. Your breath caught in your throat as you turned in the direction of the noise, the beam of your flashlight trembling slightly.

“Hello?” you called out, immediately regretting it as your voice echoed down the hall.

There was no response, but the silence that followed felt different. Heavier.

Against your better judgment, you followed the sound, each step you took feeling like it carried you further into the unknown. At the end of the hall, there was a massive door, partially ajar. You approached cautiously, your hand hovering over the handle.

With a deep breath, you pushed the door open. It creaked loudly, revealing a grand staircase that spiraled upward into darkness. You hesitated, glancing back toward the entrance where your sleeping bag was waiting for you. For a moment, you considered turning back.

But something urged you on.

With the flashlight held tightly in your hand, you started up the stairs, each step amplifying the growing sense that something was lurking just out of sight.

You ascended the staircase slowly, each creaky step echoing louder than the last in the oppressive silence. The air grew colder with each step, and the darkness seemed to press in closer. Your flashlight’s beam flickered slightly, but you shook it, willing it to hold steady. As you neared the top of the stairs, a large, ornate doorway came into view, framed by heavy wooden doors that looked far sturdier than the ones downstairs. Unlike the rest of the castle, these doors seemed well-maintained, almost as if they were still in use.

With a deep breath, you reached out and pushed one of the doors open. It groaned loudly on its hinges, revealing what lay beyond: a grand ballroom. You stepped through the doorway, your breath catching in your throat.

The room was vast, with high ceilings and enormous windows draped with thick, faded curtains. A massive chandelier, still glittering despite its age, hung from the ceiling, casting a faint, ghostly glimmer as your flashlight passed over it. The floor beneath you was a dark, polished wood, still gleaming faintly despite the passage of time. The room, though worn, was far better kept than anything you had seen downstairs.

You scanned the room, taking in the details. Dust hung in the air, swirling in the faint beam of your flashlight, but the place didn’t feel abandoned like the lower levels had. The tattered tapestries and cracked pillars of the lower halls were replaced here by careful preservation. It was as if something—or someone—had been taking care of this part of the castle, long after the rest had been forgotten.

The eerie stillness of the ballroom weighed heavy on your shoulders. The faint echo of your footsteps on the wooden floor was the only sound. You swept the light across the room again, lingering on a grand piano in the far corner, its glossy surface free of dust. It looked as though it had been played recently, the lid slightly ajar, exposing the strings inside.

Your heart pounded in your chest, every instinct telling you this was wrong. It wasn’t just that the room was better kept than the rest of the castle—it was the strange, unshakable feeling that this place was waiting for something. Or someone.

You took a step closer to the center of the ballroom, glancing around nervously. Your footsteps were soft on the polished floor, but they felt impossibly loud in the quiet space. The air here felt heavier, as though something unseen lingered just beyond your sight.

Suddenly, you froze. From the far end of the ballroom, you heard it—a soft, almost imperceptible whisper that sent chills racing down your spine.

Your heart raced as you slowly turned toward the direction of the whisper. Raising your flashlight, you shone the beam across the far end of the ballroom. The light cut through the shadows, revealing nothing but the empty space where the sound had come from. No one was there. Just the eerie silence of the room, thick and suffocating.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breath, and called out, “Is anyone there?”

Your voice echoed back to you, bouncing off the high ceilings and polished floors, but there was no answer—only the hollow repetition of your own words. The stillness that followed made your skin prickle with unease.

Your grip on the flashlight tightened as you glanced around, feeling more disoriented by the second. Something was off. You knew it, but the logical part of your mind still clung to the idea that this was just an old, empty castle.

Then, you noticed something—a faint swishing sound, like fabric being stirred by a gentle breeze. You aimed your flashlight upwards and saw the source: a large window on the far wall, slightly ajar. The curtains, heavy and dark, shifted ever so slightly in the draft that crept in from the outside. The wind was toying with the edges of the fabric, making them sway back and forth like the room was breathing along with you.

You exhaled in relief, telling yourself that it was just the wind. That had to be it. The strange noises, the whisper—maybe it was just your nerves getting the better of you in this unsettling place.

But as the wind swirled through the crack in the window, the cold air carried something else with it—a faint, distant melody, barely audible. It sounded like music, haunting and old, drifting through the night like a ghostly remnant of something long past.

Your heart skipped a beat.

You shook your head, trying to shake off the creeping unease that had settled in your chest. It’s just the wind, you told yourself. An old building. No need to overthink it. The ballroom was strange, yes, but it felt safer than the decaying entrance hall you had set up camp in.

With one last glance at the open window, you turned and hurried back down the winding staircase. Each step felt faster as you tried to distance yourself from the unsettling whispers and sounds that still seemed to linger in the air. When you reached the entrance hall, you wasted no time gathering your things—your sleeping bag, snacks, and whatever else you had left behind.

As you packed up, the hard, cold stone beneath you was a stark reminder of how uncomfortable the night would be if you stayed here. The ballroom, despite its eerie atmosphere, at least had a smooth, polished floor that was far more inviting than the uneven stone slabs below. You figured you’d be able to sleep easier in a room that wasn’t as decrepit.

With your belongings secured, you made your way back up to the ballroom. The staircase creaked beneath your feet, but you ignored it this time, focused on the task at hand. When you reached the top and stepped back into the vast ballroom, the cool breeze from the window greeted you again, but it was gentler now, as if the castle had grown quiet in your absence.

You unrolled your sleeping bag in the center of the room, right under the chandelier. The polished wooden floor, though still cold, was a welcome change from the rough stone. After settling everything in place, you stood for a moment, staring around the ballroom. The eerie whispers were gone, and the faint melody you thought you had heard earlier was nowhere to be found.

You exhaled a long breath, trying to let go of the tension still gripping you. “It’s fine,” you said again, your voice soft in the stillness. The ballroom’s grandeur, though worn, had a strange comfort to it now, and maybe—just maybe—you could get some sleep here.

You sat in your sleeping bag for what felt like hours, though in reality, it had only been a short while. The ballroom was eerily quiet now, with nothing but the faint rustling of the wind from the slightly open window to break the silence. The air was still cold, but the polished floor was more comfortable than the hard stone downstairs.

Your flashlight sat beside you, its beam pointed toward the ceiling, casting soft shadows that swayed gently with the breeze. You kept glancing around the room, your eyes following the flickers of light, trying to shake the lingering feeling that something was watching you. But there was nothing. Just the grand, worn-down ballroom and the sound of your own breathing.

You pulled the sleeping bag tighter around your body, trying to warm yourself as the chill of the castle seeped in. The massive chandelier above you swayed ever so slightly, but you told yourself it was just from the draft coming in through the window. Your mind wandered back to your friends, probably huddled around the campfire, laughing at the ridiculous dare they’d set for you. It felt absurd now, sitting here alone in this massive, decaying castle, waiting for morning to come.

Finally, you decided it was time to get some sleep. There was no point in staying awake any longer, especially when nothing strange had happened since you’d returned to the ballroom. You took one last look around, reassuring yourself that everything was as it should be.

Lying down, you turned onto your side, pulling the hood of your jacket over your head as you curled up inside the sleeping bag. The quiet of the castle pressed in on you, the faint sound of the wind outside barely audible now. Your eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion from the long day finally catching up with you.

Eventually, sleep claimed you. The eerie stillness of the castle, once so unnerving, faded into the background as exhaustion took over. Wrapped tightly in your sleeping bag, you drifted into a restless slumber, your mind retreating from the strange surroundings.

But even in your sleep, something felt… off.

A faint sensation brushed against your cheek, gentle and cold, like the touch of a feather or a breeze. You hummed softly, stirring in your sleep. Your brow furrowed, and you shifted, turning onto your other side as if trying to escape the odd feeling. But the sensation returned, more insistent this time. The caress was cool and deliberate, like someone was carefully tracing the curve of your cheek.

You tossed slightly, murmuring, your body reacting to the touch but your mind too deep in the fog of sleep to fully register it. The sensation lingered, delicate yet persistent, as though whoever or whatever was responsible was toying with you, watching your every reaction.

You turned again, your breathing quickening in your sleep as the cold touch remained against your skin. Unbeknownst to you, a shadow loomed over your sleeping form, standing impossibly still. Gleaming eyes observed you with an unsettling intensity, the figure’s presence unseen but undeniably there.

And still, you slept—unaware of the watcher that hovered in the darkness above you.

੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

You slowly woke to the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the cracks in the curtains, illuminating the dust particles dancing in the air. The gentle warmth coaxed you out of your sleep, and you blinked a few times, trying to shake off the remnants of dreams that felt oddly vivid.

For a moment, you lay still, the events of the previous night rushing back to you. You remembered the whispers, the caress against your cheek, and the feeling of being watched. But as you glanced around the grand ballroom, the memories felt more like fleeting shadows than genuine threats. Everything appeared normal—the chandelier sparkled in the morning light, and the polished floor was still eerily silent.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself up and stretched, feeling the stiffness in your muscles from sleeping on the floor. After a quick glance around, you began to pack your belongings. You rolled up your sleeping bag and made sure you hadn’t left anything behind. It felt good to have made it through the night, and you were relieved that the castle hadn’t consumed you in the darkness.

Once you were ready, you retraced your steps back down the winding staircase, the air warmer as you stepped out into the sunlight. The forest greeted you with chirping birds and rustling leaves, and you couldn’t help but smile at the beauty of the morning.

The campsite wasn’t far from the castle, and as you approached, you could see your friends gathered around, still bright and cheerful. They looked up when they saw you, a mix of curiosity and excitement on their faces.

“How was it?” Yuna called out, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

You shrugged, trying to downplay your experience. “It was easy. Just an old, empty castle.” You didn’t want to admit the odd feelings you’d had or the strange sensations from the night before.

But your nonchalance only fueled their interest. “Come on! You can’t just leave us hanging like that!” Wooyoung chimed in, leaning forward with a grin. “We all want to see it now. Let’s go explore it together!”

Your stomach dropped a little at the thought, but your friends' enthusiasm was infectious. They began to gather their things, excitedly chattering about what they might find. You hesitated, glancing back toward the castle.

Still, you couldn’t let fear dictate your day. “Alright, let’s go,” you said, forcing a smile. After all, it was just a castle—nothing you hadn’t survived the night before.

As you set off toward the castle again, your heart raced with both apprehension and excitement. Maybe exploring with your friends would be a different experience entirely. After all, safety in numbers, right?

As you and your friends entered the castle once more, the atmosphere felt different with the warmth of the morning sun streaming through the windows. The grand ballroom was just as you had left it, a stunning sight in the daylight, with dust particles dancing in the rays of light.

“Wow, this place is amazing!” Wooyoung exclaimed, stepping into the ballroom and spinning around as if he were the star of a grand performance. “Imagine having a party here!”

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, and the others soon joined him, their excitement palpable. Ji-Sun and Jiwon began to inspect the piano in the corner, while Mackiah wandered over to the chandelier, eyeing the outlines of the crystal fixtures with wonder.

“Okay, where to next?” Wonbin asked, looking around. “We should check out that staircase.”

The grand staircase spiraled upward, and with eager agreement, the group moved toward it.

As you ascended the staircase, you noticed the details of the castle more keenly—the intricate carvings on the banisters and the faded portraits hanging on the walls, their subjects gazing down at you with expressions both regal and haunting. At the top, a balcony overlooked the ballroom, and the view was breathtaking.

“Look at this!” Jiwon exclaimed, leaning over the edge. “Can you imagine the parties they must have had here?”

“It must’ve been incredible,” you replied, peering down at the empty space below, which now felt less intimidating in the light of day.

From there, you and your friends explored the various hallways branching off from the balcony, each leading to old rooms that seemed frozen in time. The doors creaked as you pushed them open, revealing dusty bedrooms, a library filled with crumbling books, and a dining room where the remains of an old banquet still lingered in the air.

“This is wild,” Ji-Sun said as she flipped through the pages of a weathered book, its title long faded. “I can’t believe this place hasn’t collapsed yet!”

Your friends moved through the rooms, each one filled with awe and curiosity. You found yourself drawn to a small alcove with an old tapestry depicting a grand feast, the colors faded but still vibrant in their depiction of revelry. It was a stark contrast to the silence of the castle now.

But as you all continued your exploration, you were oblivious to the dark figure that had followed you. A black raven lingered just outside, its beady eyes watching your every move with an unsettling intensity. It cawed softly, as if keeping watch over the group as you wandered deeper into the castle.

“Hey, check this out!” Wooyoung called from a room at the end of the hall, his voice echoing off the walls. “I think I found a secret passage!”

You turned to see him gesturing excitedly toward a hidden door cleverly concealed by a heavy curtain. The thrill of discovery sparked a rush of adrenaline within you, pulling you closer to the group. As you approached, the raven flapped its wings, disappearing into the shadows of the castle.

“What do you think is behind it?” Mackiah asked, peering over Wooyoung’s shoulder.

“Only one way to find out!” Ji-Sun said, stepping forward with a bold grin.

The group gathered around, anticipation buzzing in the air as Wooyoung pulled back the curtain, revealing the door.

With a deep breath, Wooyoung grasped the handle of the concealed door and pulled it open. It creaked ominously, the sound reverberating through the stillness of the hallway. The group leaned in closer, peering into the dimly lit passage that lay beyond. A cool breeze wafted out, carrying with it the faint scent of must and something else—something earthy.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked, glancing at your friends. The thrill of adventure coursed through you, but the shadows lurking just beyond the door felt unnervingly alive.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Ji-Sun encouraged, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Mackiah and Wonbin exchanged amused glances, clearly eager to explore. “Besides,” Wonbin added, “if it’s just a storage room or something, we can always turn back.”

After a brief moment of hesitation, you nodded, curiosity overtaking your apprehension. The group stepped forward, with Wooyoung leading the way into the passage. You followed closely behind, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

The narrow hallway was dark, with only the flickering beam of your flashlight cutting through the gloom. The walls were lined with ancient stone, and cobwebs hung from the ceiling like delicate lace. You could hear the distant sound of your friends’ footsteps echoing off the walls as they ventured further in.

“Whoa, look at this!” Ji-Sun’s voice echoed back to you, her tone a mixture of awe and disbelief. You hurried to catch up, your flashlight illuminating the space ahead.

You emerged into a larger chamber, and gasps of wonder filled the air. The room was vast, its ceiling arching high above, supported by sturdy stone columns that reached toward the dark ceiling. At the center stood a large, circular table, surrounded by mismatched chairs that looked like they hadn’t been touched in decades. Dust motes danced in the light as you stepped closer.

“This must be where they held meetings or something,” Jiwon mused, brushing her fingers along the table’s surface, revealing intricate carvings underneath the layer of dust.

“Or maybe it was a secret gathering place,” you suggested, the idea thrilling you. “Like for a hidden society or something.”

As you explored the room, you noticed an old fireplace along one wall, its mantel adorned with faded photographs in gilded frames.

“Hey, look at these!” Wonbin called from the fireplace, his voice drawing you over. “These people look kind of… creepy.”

You approached and squinted at the photographs. Indeed, the faces of those in the images seemed to have an unsettling intensity, their gazes almost following you as you moved. You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you shook it off.

“Just old pictures,” you said, attempting to sound more confident than you felt.

Suddenly, from the corner of your eye, you spotted movement. You turned, instinctively pointing your flashlight toward the shadows, but saw nothing. Your heart raced, and you glanced back at your friends, who were all engrossed in their own discoveries.

“Did anyone else see that?” you asked, your voice slightly shaky.

Your question was met with puzzled looks. “See what?” Ji-Sun replied, frowning.

“Never mind,” you said, trying to brush it off. The shadows danced just out of your flashlight's reach, but there was something about the air that felt charged, as if it held secrets waiting to be uncovered.

As the group continued to explore the room, a sudden rustle echoed from the passage you had entered. Everyone froze, their heads snapping toward the source of the sound. A cold breeze swept through the chamber, carrying the faintest whisper, barely audible, yet distinct—like a voice calling from the depths of time.

“What was that?” Jiwon whispered, her eyes wide with apprehension.

Your heart thudded in your chest as you turned your flashlight toward the entrance. The shadows shifted, and you felt an inexplicable urge to flee the room, a instinct clawing at you from deep within. But you also felt a strange compulsion to stay.

You took a deep breath, ready to voice your concerns, when suddenly, the whispering grew louder—a chorus of hushed tones that seemed to echo from all around you, sending chills racing down your spine.

You glanced at your friends, who were all looking back at you with wide eyes, clearly feeling the same unsettling energy.

“Guys… I think we should leave,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

But before anyone could respond, a loud thud resonated from the passage behind you, sending everyone jumping back. The tension in the air became palpable, and you could feel the fear rising among the group.

“What was that?!” Wooyoung exclaimed, his bravado fading.

“I don’t know, but I think we should get out of here,” you urged, your heart racing.

Just as you all turned to make your escape, a sharp hissing sound sliced through the air, causing you to freeze in your tracks. The noise reverberated in the cavernous room, echoing ominously off the stone walls.

“What was that?!” Wonbin asked, his voice laced with anxiety.

You all instinctively looked up, and the sight that met your eyes made your blood run cold. A mass of bats hung from the ceiling, their wings folded tightly against their bodies, and their yellow eyes glimmered in the dim light like tiny lanterns. They swayed slightly in the draft, their presence looming like a dark cloud overhead.

“Oh man, this is not good,” Mackiah whispered, taking a step back.

The hissing intensified, a cacophony of flutters and screeches that sent a wave of panic through the group. The bats began to stir, their wings rustling as they seemed to sense the movement below.

“Do you think they’re… friendly?” Ji-Sun ventured, though her tone was far from convincing.

You shook your head, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach. “I don’t think we should stick around to find out.”

As if sensing your fear, the bats suddenly took flight, swirling around in a chaotic flurry. Their wings created a thunderous sound that filled the chamber, making it hard to think or hear. In a panic, your friends began to scatter, trying to find a way out of the room.

“Run!” you shouted, urging everyone to move.

You bolted toward the exit, your heart pounding in your chest as the bats whirled around you. The sheer force of their wings felt like a gust of wind, pushing against you. You could hear your friends behind you, their shouts mingling with the chaotic cacophony of fluttering wings.

You dashed through the doorway, stumbling slightly as you exited the large chamber, and you could feel the cool air of the hallway hitting your face. It was quieter here, but you could still hear the flapping of wings echoing behind you.

“Keep moving!” Ji-Won yelled as she caught up to you, her eyes wide with fear.

You all sprinted down the hallway, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The hissing had faded to a distant memory, but the shadows felt alive, pulsating as you dashed past them.

“Where do we go?” Jiwon panted, glancing nervously over her shoulder.

“Back to the ballroom!” you suggested, hoping it was the safest place.

You veered toward the grand ballroom, bursting through the doors, you skidded to a halt, panting heavily.

“Is everyone here?” you gasped, quickly counting heads.

“Yeah, but what was that?” Wonbin asked, trying to catch his breath.

“I don’t know, but those bats… it felt like they were warning us or something,” you replied, glancing back at the door as if expecting the creatures to follow.

“They were creepy!” Ji-Sun exclaimed, her voice shaky. “We need to get out of here before something worse happens!”

You nodded in agreement, and the group gathered together, looking around for a way to leave the castle behind. The sunlight streaming through the ballroom windows was comforting, but the thought of returning to the depths of the castle sent chills down your spine.

“Let’s head back outside,” you suggested, moving toward the grand entrance.

As you approached the massive doors, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still watching you from the shadows. You paused, glancing back toward the hallway, half-expecting to see anything, but there was nothing.

“Are we all ready?” you asked, your voice steady despite the anxiety thrumming beneath the surface.

With a series of nods, you pushed open the heavy doors, and the bright light flooded in, illuminating the worn stone path ahead. Stepping outside felt like stepping back into reality, and the cool breeze was a welcome relief.

“Let’s get back to camp and enjoy the rest of the day,” you said, trying to lighten the mood. “No more creepy castles for now.”

With a collective sigh of relief, the group started to make their way back, the tension from the bats and shadows slowly fading as laughter and chatter resumed.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of lightheartedness, a stark contrast to the unsettling events of the morning. Once you all returned to camp, the tension eased with every hour spent lounging in the sun, telling jokes, and sharing snacks around the firepit. The eerie weight of the castle seemed to vanish in the daylight, and by mid-afternoon, the memory of the bats and the cold whispers in the shadows felt more like a strange dream.

Wooyoung and Mackiah led the charge in cooking a hearty dinner—grilled meat and vegetables wrapped in foil, while Ji-Sun and Jiwon worked on creating s'mores, laughing over burnt marshmallows and chocolate smeared on their faces.

Yuna sitting by you leaned back on her elbows, gazing up at the sky as it began to change hues from bright blue to shades of orange and pink.

“This is perfect,” she sighed. You only nodded in agreement.

By the time night fell, everyone was pleasantly tired. The campfire crackled as the flames danced, illuminating the circle of your friends' faces with a soft glow. You wrapped yourself in your blanket, the chill of the night air seeping in but held at bay by the fire's warmth.

“Well, I think that was enough adventure for one trip,” Wooyoung said with a yawn, stretching his arms overhead.

“Yeah, no more creepy castles for me,” Jiwon added, rubbing her arms as if she could still feel the cold draft of the castle's hallways.

As the conversation lulled, the stars appeared one by one in the clear sky above. Exhaustion from the day's excitement began to settle over everyone, and soon enough, one by one, your friends slipped off to their tents.

You watched the fire die down, the embers glowing faintly as the world around you grew quiet. The rustling of the wind in the trees and the soft chirping of distant crickets became the only sounds. After a few moments, you finally stood up, feeling the weight of sleep tugging at you as well.

“Time for bed,” you whispered to yourself, pulling your blanket tighter around your shoulders as you headed toward your tent.

Once inside, you unrolled your sleeping bag, the familiar scent of the forest around you somehow comforting. You glanced around, hearing the faint movements of your friends as they, too, settled in for the night.

Lying down, you shifted into a comfortable position, letting the soothing sounds of the forest wash over you. Your eyes grew heavy as you listened to the distant hooting of an owl, its call echoing through the trees. The peace of the camp surrounded you, and with a long sigh, you allowed yourself to drift into sleep.

But as you slipped further into unconsciousness, a cold breeze seemed to sweep through the tent, the kind of chill that felt familiar, like the air inside the castle. You stirred slightly, but exhaustion kept you from fully waking. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a flicker of unease crept in, as if something had followed you back from the castle—something unseen, waiting in the shadows.

Yet you didn't open your eyes.

੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

You woke with a start, your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. The sensation of soft, velvet sheets beneath your fingers sent a surge of confusion through you. This wasn’t your tent. This wasn’t the camp.

Sitting up quickly, you glanced around the room, your heart pounding as you took in your surroundings. The room was grand—far too grand. The bed you sat on was enormous, draped in luxurious fabrics with dark, ornate wood framing it. Heavy curtains hung at the tall windows, blocking out all light except for a faint glow filtering through the gaps.

No. No, no, no, your mind screamed.

You were back in the castle.

“How…?” you muttered to yourself, throwing the covers off as you stood, your legs shaking slightly as they hit the cold stone floor. You tried to recall how you got here, but your memory was a blur. The last thing you remembered was falling asleep at the campsite. You had been with your friends, safe beneath the stars.

“What’s going on?” you whispered, your voice echoing in the oppressive silence.

You hurried to the door, your pulse racing as you grabbed the handle and pulled it open. The hallway beyond stretched endlessly, lit only by the faintest light from flickering wall sconces. You stepped out, the cold draft brushing past you, making you shiver.

Each step echoed in the stillness as you walked through the corridor, your footsteps hesitant but driven by a gnawing urgency to understand what was happening. The castle felt different now—more alive, more… aware. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end as though you were being watched.

Then, as you rounded a corner, a sound drifted toward you—soft, haunting, and unmistakable.

A piano.

Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the melody. It was faint, almost like a whisper carried by the wind, but it was there. A sad, melancholic tune that tugged at your soul. The same piano that stood in the ballroom.

You swallowed hard, feeling an icy chill settle over you. The ballroom. The same room where you and your friends had explored earlier, where you had seen the bats and felt the castle's lingering presence.

The sound grew louder as you followed it, your body moving almost of its own accord as you passed through familiar hallways, each one more ominous than the last, until you reached the massive double doors of the ballroom.

The haunting melody played on, drawing you closer.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open, the creak of the hinges echoing through the cavernous room. Inside, the ballroom was just as you remembered, but something was different. The light was dim, casting long shadows across the floor, and in the center of the room, sitting at the grand piano, was a figure.

They were cloaked in darkness, their form barely visible in the faint light, but their hands moved gracefully over the keys, producing the haunting melody that had lured you here.

You took a step forward, your breath catching in your throat as you spoke, your voice shaky. “Hello?”

The figure didn’t respond, continuing to play as though unaware of your presence. The melody swirled around you, tugging at something deep inside, making your chest tighten with an inexplicable sorrow.

Your feet moved on their own, carrying you closer until you stood at the edge of the ballroom floor, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows over the room. The figure finally stopped playing, their hands resting on the keys.

In the silence that followed, you felt the weight of their gaze, though you couldn’t see their face clearly.

“Why… why am I here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, but the question hung in the air like a plea.

The figure slowly rose from the bench, the shadows clinging to them like a second skin. Then the figure turned slowly toward you, stepping fully into the faint light, and you froze in place, caught off guard by the sheer intensity of his presence. He was tall, much taller than you had imagined, his long black cloak accentuating his height and flowing gracefully with his every movement. The shadows seemed to cling to him like they belonged to him.

His pale skin contrasted starkly with his dark hair, which framed his sharp, otherworldly features. His face was elegant yet unnerving, the kind of beauty that both mesmerized and unsettled. His strong, defined jawline and sharp nose gave his face an aristocratic appearance, while a few faint moles dotted his otherwise perfect complexion. His thick, dark eyebrows added a commanding intensity to his gaze, one that made it hard to look away.

But it was his eyes that held you captive—piercing and gleaming like two pools of silver, reflecting the faint light in a way that felt almost inhuman. They stared at you with an unnerving intensity, as though they could see through you, past the surface, into the deepest parts of your soul.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, slow and deliberate, as though he found some silent amusement in your reaction. His presence was overwhelming, like the very air in the room shifted to accommodate his power. You could feel it, a heavy, ancient energy that radiated from him, seeping into the space between you.

"You are not afraid," he said, his voice smooth and low, carrying an almost hypnotic quality. He took another step closer, and your pulse quickened, though your feet remained rooted in place. "Curious, perhaps… but not afraid."

His words sent a chill down your spine, but you couldn’t bring yourself to back away. His beauty was haunting, but there was something dangerous beneath it, something ancient and powerful. The way he moved, the way he looked at you—it was as if he had all the time in the world, as if he had been waiting for you specifically.

“Who are you?” you managed to ask, your voice quieter than you intended.

He didn’t answer immediately, his intense gaze never leaving yours. Instead, he reached out slowly, his pale fingers brushing against a lock of your hair, almost tenderly. His touch was cold, but the gesture felt oddly intimate.

"You will know soon enough," he whispered, his voice like velvet, wrapping around you. "But for now, consider yourself… a guest."

The way he said it made your stomach twist. A guest in this castle, or something else entirely? You weren’t sure you wanted to find out.

A sudden caw echoed through the room, piercing the tension like a knife. The raven from earlier swooped down through the open window, its wings flapping as it landed on the ledge. His attention shifted, his cold, gleaming eyes breaking away from yours for just a moment.

It was enough.

The spell that had held you frozen broke, and you gasped for breath, your body suddenly free to move. Without thinking, you turned on your heel and ran, the sound of your heartbeat roaring in your ears. Your legs moved as fast as they could, carrying you toward the ballroom doors, your only thought to escape.

But just as you were within reach of the exit, the heavy wooden doors slammed shut with a thunderous boom. The impact left the room in total darkness, as though the very light had been snuffed out by some unseen force.

A scream tore from your throat, but it barely reached your own ears over the rush of adrenaline. Panic surged through your veins as you spun around, desperate to see where he had gone. But the darkness was impenetrable, and where he had stood moments before was now just a void.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as you fumbled toward the door, hoping—praying—it would open. But before you could even touch it, you were met with a pair of glowing red eyes, gleaming like embers in the blackness. They were upside down, hanging just inches from your face, and you stumbled backward, your heart nearly stopping.

“You’re not leaving so soon, are you?” His voice was smooth, with an edge of mockery, as if he were disappointed. You could almost hear the smirk in his tone as he added, “It’s impolite to leave without saying goodbye.”

His red eyes bore into you, his tone calm but menacing, and your body reacted before your mind could catch up. You turned and ran again, darting toward any exit, any escape.

"I love it when they run," you heard him say from behind you, his voice almost a purr.

Your heart raced even faster, and you sprinted through the ballroom, past the pillars, through the shadows, your every instinct screaming to get away. The castle was a maze, but you didn’t care. You had to get out, even if it meant throwing yourself blindly into the unknown corridors ahead. The echo of your footsteps was the only sound as you ran, knowing—feeling—that he was right behind you, enjoying every second of your terror.

As you ran through the dark, twisting corridors of the castle, his voice seemed to follow you, wrapping around your thoughts like a cold fog. It wasn’t loud—it was more like an echo, a taunting whisper in your ears, weaving in and out of your mind, always there no matter how far or fast you ran.

"You think you can escape?" his voice purred, teasing, as though the chase amused him. "There is no escape from me. Not here."

Your breaths came in short, desperate gasps as you darted down another hallway, your legs burning with every frantic step. His presence loomed behind you, unseen but felt, a shadow just out of reach. You could hear his low chuckle, an infuriating sound that sent chills down your spine.

"I could catch you any time I wanted," he said, the words floating around you like smoke. "But this… this is so much more entertaining."

Your heart hammered wildly in your chest, the thudding of your pulse so loud you were sure he could hear it. His voice was so close now, almost like he was whispering directly into your ear.

"I can hear it, you know. Your heart," he murmured, the satisfaction clear in his tone. "It’s beating so fast. So wild. I can feel your blood thrumming beneath your skin, calling to me. So sweet, so tempting."

The way he spoke about your heartbeat, your blood—it made your skin crawl. You turned another corner, stumbling slightly as your fear overtook you, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop.

"You’ll end up in my arms eventually," he continued, his voice velvet-smooth and filled with certainty. "Why fight it? You're running in circles, and we both know how this ends."

You pushed yourself harder, the overwhelming dread threatening to consume you. His voice wrapped tighter around your mind, mocking, as if he knew every thought, every fear coursing through you.

"And to think," he said, his voice dripping with amusement, "you didn’t even believe. You scoffed at the idea of my kind, so sure of yourself. So sure it was all just folklore."

He laughed then, a soft, mocking sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Now look at you—running from the very thing you denied. How ironic."

Tears stung your eyes, not from pain, but from the sheer helplessness of the situation. His presence felt suffocating, growing stronger with every passing second. You could feel him behind you, his gaze like a predator's, tracking your every move, savoring the chase.

You kept running, but in the pit of your stomach, you knew he was right. This was his game, and he was in complete control. The vampire wasn’t just toying with you; he was savoring your terror.

You suddenly skidded to a halt, your chest heaving as you stared ahead. A dead end.

Panic surged through you, your heart racing faster than before. You turned, pressing your back against the cold stone wall, eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of him. But there was nothing. The hallway behind you was empty, silent except for the faint echo of your ragged breathing. Yet, you knew he was there. Somewhere in the shadows, waiting, watching.

Your breath hitched as your fingers brushed against the stone at your back, searching for any way out, any escape from this nightmare. Just then, you felt something—a click beneath your palm. You barely had time to register what it was before the wall behind you shifted.

With a sudden jolt, the stone gave way, and you let out a small noise of surprise as you stumbled backward. The floor beneath your feet disappeared, and before you could react, you were sliding—falling into darkness as the wall sealed shut above you.

The stone passage gave way to a steep, slick tunnel, and you slid down fast, the air rushing past you as the world blurred around you. Your heart pounded in your chest, your hands grasping at the smooth, unforgiving surface as you tumbled deeper into the unknown. There was no way to stop yourself, no way to control the rapid descent.

The tunnel twisted and turned, and you had no idea where it led—or if it would ever end. All you knew was that it was taking you farther from him, away from the overwhelming presence that had haunted you. But at what cost?

After what felt like an eternity, the tunnel spit you out onto a hard, damp floor. You gasped, the impact knocking the wind from your lungs as you lay there, disoriented, the cold seeping through your clothes. The room you found yourself in was dimly lit by torches mounted on ancient stone walls, the flickering light casting long shadows. It looked like an underground chamber, far beneath the castle.

For a moment, you just lay there, catching your breath, trying to process what had just happened. You’d escaped—at least for now. But as the adrenaline began to fade, the terror settled in once more. You had no idea where you were, no idea how deep into the castle you had fallen.

And no idea if he was still following you.

You pulled yourself up onto shaky legs, looking around the chamber, your eyes catching on a doorway at the far end. It seemed to lead further into the labyrinth beneath the castle. You swallowed hard, a sense of foreboding settling in your gut. But you couldn’t stay here. You had to move, to keep going, even if it meant diving deeper into this strange, twisted place.

You glanced behind you, half-expecting to see those glowing red eyes emerge from the shadows. But for now, there was only silence.

You pushed yourself foward, your legs trembling as you forced them to move. Every step felt heavy, the fear still gripping you like a vice. The chamber stretched out ahead of you, dim and eerie, the flickering torchlight casting long, dancing shadows across the stone walls.

You hesitated at the doorway, staring into the hallway beyond, a narrow passage lined with more rooms, each one giving off an air of something long-forgotten. You swallowed hard, the silence around you oppressive, and took a tentative step forward.

The first room you passed was small, the door slightly ajar. Curiosity mixed with dread as you nudged it open further, revealing its contents. In the center of the room sat a single coffin, its lid partially cracked open, the heavy wood creaking under its own weight. Your breath hitched as you moved closer, half-expecting something to leap out from within.

But it was empty.

Just an old, decaying coffin, its insides lined with faded velvet. You backed away slowly, glancing over your shoulder as you left the room behind, hoping that whatever had been inside had long since departed.

As you moved further down the passage, you found another room. This one was larger, the door hanging loosely from its hinges. The coffin here was fully closed, the surface covered in a thick layer of dust. You stepped inside, your footsteps echoing in the stillness as you circled it, unease prickling at the back of your neck. Something about this room felt different—heavier, somehow. But when you finally gathered the nerve to push the coffin lid open, you found it empty too.

One by one, you passed through room after room, each holding a coffin at its center. Some were open, revealing nothing but darkness inside. Others were sealed tight, but there was no sign of life—or unlife—in any of them. The further you went, the more the rooms began to blur together, all holding the same macabre centerpiece. The coffins, despite their ominous presence, seemed abandoned.

But why?

You shuddered, the silence pressing in around you like a weight, each breath you took feeling like a strain. This place wasn’t just old—it was ancient, steeped in something far darker than time. You couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn’t a mere crypt. It felt like a lair.

And if these coffins were empty… where were their inhabitants now?

The question sent a chill down your spine, and you quickened your pace, moving from room to room, hoping to find an exit, an escape from this twisted place. But the longer you wandered through the labyrinth of coffins, the more you felt the walls closing in on you.

As you reached the end of the hallway, your breath shallow and your nerves on edge, you hesitated in front of the final door. The wood was polished, untouched by time or decay, standing in stark contrast to the worn stone and dilapidated coffins behind you. Something about this door felt different—almost inviting, as if it didn’t belong in the same world as the crypt-like rooms you had passed through.

Slowly, you reached for the handle and pushed the door open.

What you found on the other side left you momentarily speechless. It wasn’t the cold, dark chamber you had expected. Instead, you stepped into a room that felt strangely… warm. Cozy, even. The scent of aged wood and faint traces of smoke from long-dead fires hung in the air, and the soft glow from several lamps bathed the room in a golden light.

The room was well-kept, utterly free from the dust and decay that plagued the rest of the castle. Tall bookshelves lined the walls, filled with leather-bound tomes that looked like they had been carefully preserved over centuries. Plush couches and chairs were scattered around the room, their rich, dark fabrics pristine as if waiting for guests to arrive. Empty fireplaces dotted the walls, their mantels adorned with intricate carvings and relics. The ambiance was one of strange elegance and a sense of deep history.

But what caught your attention most were the portraits hanging on the walls. You walked closer, your eyes widening in recognition. The first painting was of the man, tall and regal, with the same otherworldly beauty as you had encountered in the ballroom. His dark hair fell in loose waves around his face, and though he appeared younger in the portrait, his eyes—the same piercing gaze you had locked eyes with earlier—remained the same. Cold. Intense.

Your breath hitched as you moved to the next painting. It was him again, this time standing beside another figure who looked similar in appearance, though this person’s features were softer, less severe. They were younger here, almost ageless, but there was a darkness in their eyes that hadn’t been captured in the earlier portraits.

You continued down the line of paintings, each depicting moments from what must have been his life—or rather, his existence. In some, he stood alone in grand ballrooms or ancient forests, always with that same commanding presence. In others, he was surrounded by people, but their faces were blurred, as if time had erased their significance.

Every painting radiated an unsettling energy, and with each new portrait, you felt the weight of his presence grow stronger. It was as though he had always been here, lurking in the shadows of the castle for centuries, waiting.

And now you were in his domain.

You took a shaky step back, your mind racing. The man you had met wasn’t just some passing phantom—he was something much older. The fact that this room looked so well-preserved while the rest of the castle crumbled around it told you that it was special, important. This was his space, and you had wandered right into it.

A creeping sense of dread settled in your chest as you glanced at the portrait once more. His eyes, even from the canvas, seemed to watch your every move, as though he was still there, lurking just out of sight.

As you continued to absorb the enchanting yet unsettling atmosphere of the cozy room, your eyes fell on the books lining the shelves. They were a mix of titles, but one caught your attention—a familiar spine adorned with elegant lettering. It was a book you had read long ago, a tale of forbidden love between a human and a vampire, steeped in tragedy and longing.

You approached the shelf, your heart racing. The book felt almost like a beacon, calling out to you. With trembling hands, you reached for it, pulling it gently from its place. As you did, a soft click echoed through the room, causing you to pause mid-motion. Your breath hitched as the shelf shifted slightly, revealing a narrow gap—a hidden door.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. A secret passageway? Without a second thought, you placed the book down on one of the couches, your heart pounding with anticipation. Slipping behind the shelf, you squeezed through the narrow opening, the air cooler as you entered the darkness of the hidden hallway.

The passage was dimly lit, the walls lined with rough stone, and you moved quickly, driven by a sense of urgency. You had no idea how long you had before the vampire would realize you were gone. The hallway twisted and turned, each step echoing in the silence, leading you deeper into the bowels of the castle.

Finally, you reached the end of the corridor, where a hatch stood ajar, the faint light of the moon spilling in through the crack. Your heart raced as you climbed up, pushing the hatch open and crawling through. As you emerged, the cool night air hit your face like a breath of fresh freedom.

You blinked against the brightness, taking in your surroundings. You were in a courtyard, the stars twinkling above like a million tiny lanterns. The space was overgrown with wildflowers and tangled vines, the stone walls of the castle looming high around you. It was eerily quiet, the kind of quiet that hinted at secrets lingering in the shadows.

You took a moment to catch your breath, relief flooding through you. You had escaped! But as you stood there, taking in the beauty of the courtyard, you couldn't shake the feeling that you weren’t entirely safe yet. The castle was alive with its own history, and you were still very much a part of it.

Then, just as you were about to make your way toward an exit, you heard it—a faint rustling behind you. Instinctively, you turned, heart pounding as you scanned the area. The shadows danced, and for a brief moment, you thought you caught a glimpse of dark hair and those hauntingly bright eyes among the foliage.

Your breath caught in your throat.

It was him.

“Where are you going?” His voice drifted through the air, smooth and inviting, yet laced with an undercurrent of danger.

You felt the urge to run again, to flee into the night, but your legs felt like lead. You were trapped in a moment where fear and curiosity collided, and there he was, stepping out from the shadows, a smirk playing on his lips, an ethereal figure framed by the moonlight.

You backed away, your heart racing as he stepped closer, closing the distance between you with an unsettling grace. The night air felt charged, and you could almost feel the heat radiating off him, drawing you in even as every instinct told you to flee.

You averted your gaze, focusing instead on the tangled vines and wildflowers at your feet, determined not to meet his intense stare. His presence was overwhelming, and you felt like a moth drawn to a flame, teetering on the edge of danger.

He chuckled softly, the sound smooth and velvety, cutting through the stillness of the courtyard. “Oh, my sweet,” he purred, his voice low and mesmerizing. “Why are you avoiding me? I can see you trying not to look into my eyes, and I must admit, I would love to see your beautiful eyes.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, a mix of fear and something else—a strange, inexplicable allure. He took another step forward, his gaze locking onto you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. “I want to see all of you,” he continued, his voice almost a whisper, beckoning you to look at him.

For a fleeting moment, you felt the pull of his words, the way they wrapped around you like a silken thread. But you held strong, forcing yourself to look away. You focused on the distant trees lining the edge of the courtyard, the moonlight casting long shadows that felt like barriers between you and him.

“Come now,” he teased, his tone playful yet dripping with a seductive edge. “Don’t you want to see me too? It’s only fair, isn’t it?”

His words curled around you, tempting you to relent, to give in to that magnetic pull. But you steeled yourself, clenching your fists at your sides. “I don’t believe in vampires,” you whispered, even though the words felt hollow.

“Is that so?” His voice took on a mocking lilt, though there was an undeniable intrigue beneath it. “And yet, here you are, in my courtyard, speaking to me. Perhaps you should reconsider your beliefs.”

You took another step back, your mind racing. “I don’t want to be here,” you replied, desperation creeping into your voice. “I need to leave.”

His expression shifted, the playful demeanor slipping slightly, replaced with something darker, more serious. “You think you can just run away from me?”

The challenge hung heavy in the air. He stepped forward again, and you felt a spark of panic. But instead of fleeing, you summoned your courage and stood your ground. “I’m not afraid of you,” you declared, even as uncertainty gripped you.

“Not afraid?” he echoed, tilting his head, eyes glimmering with mischief. “Then why do you tremble? Why does your heart beat so fast, as if it's dancing to a rhythm only I can hear?”

You felt your heart racing, pulse pounding in your ears. But still, you refused to look him in the eye. “Because I know what you are,” you replied, trying to sound steady despite the tremor in your voice.

His lips curved into a slow, wicked smile, and he stepped even closer, closing the gap until you could feel the coldness radiating from him. “Then you should know that running only makes it more exciting. The chase is always the best part.”

Your heart raced faster at his words, and as you felt the pull of his gaze, you realized how dangerous this game truly was. You were caught between the urge to run and the undeniable allure of the dark figure before you, each moment stretching out like an eternity.

Before you could react, he zoomed toward you, his movements blurring in the dim light. In an instant, he grasped your waist and pulled you into a whirlwind dance, swirling you around the courtyard. The force of his embrace was intoxicating, and you found you couldn’t break free from his grip, caught in a dizzying mix of fear and exhilaration as you spun beneath the gaze of the dark figure before you.

In an instant, he wrapped his strong arms around you, lifting you effortlessly off the ground. Panic surged through you as he flew into the night sky, the wind whipping around you like a storm.

You screamed, gripping his cloak tightly, your heart racing as the ground fell away beneath you. “What are you doing?!” you yelled, your voice lost in the rush of the wind.

He only laughed, a low, melodic sound that echoed through the air. “Relax, I won’t drop you!” he teased, spinning you around in midair. His cloak unfurled behind him like dark wings, creating a mesmerizing display against the moonlit sky.

Your stomach dropped as he twirled you around, the world below a dizzying blur. Fear mingled with exhilaration, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. “You’re insane!” you shouted.

Just as you thought you might lose your nerve, he began to descend, spiraling down closer to the ground. Seizing the moment, you slipped out of his grasp, landing roughly on your feet. You stumbled but quickly regained your balance, glancing up to find surprise etched across his face. He hadn’t expected you to break free so easily.

Without a second thought, you turned and ran, bolting toward the open door of the castle. Your heart raced as adrenaline coursed through your veins, your instincts screaming at you to get away.

“Round two then…” you heard him murmur, his tone thrilled, as he followed after you. There was no rush in his movements; he glided toward you with an unsettling calmness, as if he was toying with you rather than truly trying to catch you.

You dashed back into the castle, the cool air of the interior hitting you like a wave as you ducked through the doorway. You could hear him behind you, a predator enjoying the chase. The thrill of the hunt invigorated him, and you knew he was reveling in every moment.

You sprinted down the familiar hallways, weaving in and out of rooms as you sought a place to hide or a way to escape. Your mind raced, frantically considering your options, while the echo of his laughter followed you like a shadow.

“Come now,” he called playfully, his voice echoing off the walls. “You can’t run forever.”

His words sent a chill down your spine, and you pushed yourself harder, dodging into a nearby room. You quickly glanced around, noting the furnishings and the looming shadows. It was another beautifully decorated room, but the ominous atmosphere made it feel like a trap.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you ducked behind a large armoire, the wood cool against your back. You listened intently, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the hall as he approached. The anticipation sent your heart racing again, each thud echoing louder in your ears.

“Where are you hiding?” he called out, a hint of amusement in his tone. “You can’t hide forever."

You swallowed hard, peering around the edge of the armoire. The room was dim, shadows flickering in the corners, but you couldn’t see him yet. The tension was palpable, and as you prepared to make another move, you felt the cold chill of his presence creeping closer.

“I can smell your fear,” he teased, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “It’s intoxicating.”

His voice echoed through the dim room, weaving around you like a silken thread. “Oh, come on now. You know it’s no fun if you don’t try to make it interesting,” he taunted, the amusement clear in his tone. You felt a rush of heat rise to your cheeks as your heart raced, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

You knew you had to stay focused, but something compelled you to look up. As your gaze traveled upward, your breath caught in your throat. There he was, hanging upside down from the ceiling like a bat, his striking red eyes fixed on you with a intense gleam. The sight was both mesmerizing and terrifying, and your instincts screamed at you to run.

Before you could react, he dropped down gracefully, landing silently beside you. The world spun as darkness enveloped you, and you felt yourself slipping away, consciousness fading into oblivion.

੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

When you came to, the softness of a couch enveloped you, and you blinked against the dim light filtering through the room. The walls were adorned with rich, dark fabrics, giving the space an opulent yet eerie feel. Confusion washed over you as you took in your surroundings, noting the closed black coffin positioned ominously beside the couch and the door, which appeared solid and unyielding.

You stood up groggily, the remnants of sleep still clouding your mind. Shaking off the dizziness, you staggered toward the door, hoping to escape, but it wouldn’t budge under your hands. You shoved against it with all your strength, but it remained stubbornly closed. “No, no, no…” you murmured, fear rising like bile in your throat.

Turning away from the door, you focused on the coffin, a sense of dread washing over you. It was beautifully crafted, the wood polished to a dark sheen that seemed to absorb the light. You stepped closer, your heart thudding in your chest with each cautious footfall. The atmosphere was thick with an unsettling energy, and you felt drawn to it against your better judgment.

Your fingers brushed against the cool surface of the coffin, and you hesitated, breath hitching. Should you open it? Even if every instinct told you to turn away, to flee, but curiosity gnawed at you, urging you to find out what lay within.

Taking a deep breath, you grasped the lid, feeling the smooth, cold wood beneath your fingers. With a steadying exhale, you began to lift it, the creaking hinges sounding like a whisper in the silence. As the lid opened, darkness greeted you from within, a chill creeping into the room.

Before you could fully comprehend what you were seeing, an icy hand shot out from within the coffin, wrapping around your arm with a grip like iron. You gasped and stumbled back, your heart racing as he emerged from the coffin, his face inches from yours.

He looked just as otherworldly as before, with his pale skin and sharp features accentuated in the dim light. His dark hair framed his face, and his crimson eyes locked onto yours, gleaming with a mixture of amusement and intrigue.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, a smirk playing on his lips.

You recoiled instinctively, yanking your arm away from his grip, but he only laughed softly, the sound echoing eerily in the enclosed space. “You shouldn’t be so scared,” he continued, tilting his head as if studying you.

“What do you want from me?” you demanded, trying to sound braver than you felt.

He leaned closer, his expression shifting to one of genuine curiosity. “You’re fascinating, really. So full of life, and yet you came all the way into my domain, challenging everything you thought you knew.”

“Let me go,” you pleaded, glancing nervously at the closed door. “I didn’t ask to be here!”

“Oh, but you’re exactly where you’re meant to be,” he replied, his tone dripping with an unsettling calmness.

As he climbed out of the coffin, his movements were fluid and graceful, almost predatory. You instinctively took a step back, your heart racing as he approached. The air around him felt charged, and the darkness of the room seemed to pulse with his energy.

He stepped closer, his eyes locked onto yours, a hungry glint flickering in their depths. “You smell absolutely divine,” he murmured, a fanged smile stretching across his lips. “I can only imagine how sweet your blood would taste.”

You backed away instinctively, but soon you felt the cold, unforgiving wall pressing against your back, trapping you. There was no escape, and the realization sent a wave of dread crashing over you. Before you could think of a plan, he closed the distance, pulling you tightly against him.

His grip was unyielding, and panic surged within you as you struggled against his hold. “Let me go!” you gasped, twisting in his grasp, but he only tsked, shaking his head slowly.

“Oh, but you’re mine now,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

With a swift motion, he leaned in, his lips barely grazing your neck. You could feel his cold breath against your skin, and it sent shivers down your spine. The sensation was both terrifying and strangely exhilarating. You instinctively wiggled free, but he only tightened his grip, his fingers like iron around your waist.

“I will earn my fill now that I have you,” he continued, his voice dripping with dark delight. “You’re trapped, sweet creature. You don’t stand a chance against me. I could sense you the moment you stepped foot into my castle.”

His gaze was intense, a mix of hunger and fascination, and you couldn’t help but feel the weight of his words. “You’ve been claimed ever since you entered my domain,” he said, his smirk growing wider. “You’re mine, and there’s no escaping that.”

The world around you felt like it was closing in, the reality of your situation dawning on you like a heavy fog. He was not just a vampire; he was a predator, and you were his prey. Your heart raced, pounding loudly in your chest, and you could almost hear it echoing in the stillness of the room.

“Please,” you breathed, trying to regain some semblance of control. “You don’t have to do this. Just let me go.”

He chuckled softly, leaning closer until his mouth hovered just above your skin. “But why would I? This is the most fun I’ve had in centuries.”

The way he said it sent a chill through you. It was a thrill for him, a game, and the realization sank deep into your bones. You could feel his cold, sharp fangs grazing your neck, teasingly close, and a rush of fear mixed with an unsettling curiosity washed over you.

He pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, an intense gaze that seemed to see right through you. “Don’t be coy,” he murmured, his voice low and sultry. “I can sense what you really feel in your heart.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you stammered, pushing against him, your hands resting on his chest. The silk of his blouse felt cool against your skin, and the cold seeped through to your fingertips, but what sent a shiver down your spine was the absence of a heartbeat beneath your palms.

As he registered the shock on your face, he grinned wider, revealing his glinting fangs. “What did you expect?” he asked, his tone playful yet dark. “I’m an undead creature of the night, after all.”

His words sent another wave of fear coursing through you, yet the thrill of his presence was undeniable. You were teetering on the edge, caught between the instinct to flee and the inexplicable pull that drew you closer to him.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, his voice a dark caress. “I won’t take more than you can give. For now, let’s just enjoy the moment.”

He leaned in, his lips nearly brushing against yours, the proximity igniting a fire within you that both terrified and thrilled. Just as you felt the magnetic pull to close the distance, you instinctively pulled back, breaking the tension.

He chuckled softly, a low, melodic sound that resonated in the air between you, as if he found your hesitation amusing. “Aren’t you curious?” he teased, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

You felt your resolve faltering, caught between terror and the strange allure of the unknown. Your instincts screamed at you to flee, yet part of you was mesmerized by the intensity of his gaze. You were lost in a battle of wills, and as he held you there, you couldn’t help but wonder what this encounter would truly mean.

He leaned in close again, his breath cool against your skin as he teased you, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. “You’re so captivating,” he murmured, his fingers dancing along your arm, caressing you with a gentleness that belied the danger he posed. “It’s almost a shame that I have to take you like this.”

As his gaze bore into you, something within began to unravel. You felt your defenses crumbling, the tension in your body slowly ebbing away under his intense scrutiny. It was terrifying to feel yourself succumbing, yet the more he spoke, the more you felt that fear dissipate. “That’s it… give in,” he whispered, his voice sultry and low, as he gently tilted your head to the side, exposing your neck.

Your heart raced, anticipation mingling with dread, as he opened his mouth, revealing his elongated fangs gleaming in the dim light. The sight sent a thrill of both terror and unexpected excitement coursing through you.

Before you could protest, he bit down, sharp pain piercing through your skin but quickly melting into a rush of pleasure that took you completely by surprise. A gasp escaped your lips, followed by a soft whine as he began to suck your blood greedily, drawing it from you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

Your body slackened in his hold, your strength fading as he continued to feast. You felt a wave of warmth wash over you, a sensation so intoxicating that it rendered you breathless. Your hands barely clutched at the fabric of his black blouse, a feeble attempt to ground yourself, yet it felt as if every rational thought was slipping away with each heartbeat.

All you could hear was the soft sound of him huffing and groaning, as if he were savoring a fine delicacy. The sensation was overwhelming, a blend of pleasure and danger that left you lightheaded.

“Delicious,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. “You taste even better than I imagined.”

Every pull of his lips made you feel both exhilarated and vulnerable, the world around you fading into nothingness as he consumed you. You had crossed a threshold, stepping into a realm where fear mingled with desire, and it was intoxicating.

As the edges of your consciousness began to blur, you found yourself surrendering to the moment. You could feel him pulling more from you, but it no longer felt like a threat. Instead, it felt like a dark embrace, one that wrapped around you and pulled you deeper into his allure. The fear you once had started to dissipate, replaced by an unexpected yearning, and all you could think was how surreal it felt to be in his grasp—his captive.

When he finally pulled back, your vision swam for a moment, the world around you fading into a soft haze. The room swirled, edges blurring as you struggled to grasp what had just happened. He lingered close, his breath cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth that still radiated from where he had bitten you. You caught a glimpse of his lips, stained crimson with your blood, and the sight was both horrifying and oddly mesmerizing.

“Can’t waste a single drop of your blood,” he purred, his voice a low, seductive whisper that wrapped around you like silk, each word tinged with a lingering hunger. The intensity of his gaze held you captive, drawing you into the depths of his eyes—dark pools filled with an unsettling mixture of desire and something deeper.

As he leaned in closer, you noticed his long fangs retracting slowly, almost reluctantly, until they returned to their normal size. It was a strange sight, watching the sharpness dissolve into a more human form, yet the danger remained palpable. His smile, revealing just enough of those once-fearsome fangs, only added to the allure, a reminder of what he was capable of.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” he asked, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down your spine. “The way your blood flows, so rich and warm. You can’t deny the connection we share, can you?” He moved even closer, brushing a cold finger along your jawline, his touch electric against your skin.

You watched his eyes, captivated by the way they shimmered with something that felt almost tender. “You’re special,” he continued, his voice a soft caress.

As he neared, you could feel the subtle pull of his presence, an intoxicating mix of danger and allure. He tilted his head slightly, his dark hair brushing against your cheek, and his gaze flickered down to the bite mark on your neck. The anticipation made your breath hitch as he moved with a deliberate slowness, almost savoring the moment.

Then, with a soft, teasing smile, he leaned in, his lips hovering just above your skin. You could feel the chill radiating from him, mingling with the warmth of your own blood. He extended his tongue, the tip just barely brushing against the puncture wound, and a gasp escaped your lips.

“Such a sweet taste,” he murmured, his voice a husky caress. He began to lick the remnants of your blood from your neck, his tongue gliding smoothly over your skin, each stroke sending shivers racing down your spine. The sensation was electric, a mix of pleasure and fear that left you breathless.

“You did so well,” he complimented, his voice a gentle caress. “You’re absolutely delicious.” The warmth in his tone made your heart race, a mixture of exhilaration and vulnerability flooding your senses.

He wore a soft smile, an expression that contrasted sharply with the predatory nature he had just displayed. “Now, you should sleep,” he said, his words wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

Before you could respond, you felt an overwhelming wave of drowsiness crash over you, your eyelids growing heavy. The world around you blurred again, the shadows of the room fading as you succumbed to the enveloping darkness.

Just as you slipped into the depths of sleep, you heard him whisper one last thing: “Rest, my sweet.”

The last remnants of your consciousness faded away, leaving you with the warmth of his presence lingering in your mind, a mix of fear and something akin to longing swirling within you as you drifted into a dreamless slumber.

੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

When you finally woke up, the soft light of the morning sun filtered through the fabric of your tent, casting warm patterns across your sleeping bag. You sat up slowly, a sharp jolt of pain and lingering pleasure coursing through your body, making you gasp.

Grabbing your phone from your bag, you opened the camera app and hesitated for a moment, dread settling in your stomach. With a shaky breath, you turned the camera toward your neck, revealing two distinct puncture wounds where fangs had sunk into your skin. They weren’t bleeding, at least, but they were tender and very sore, a painful reminder of the night you had just endured.

Groaning softly, you covered the marks with the collar of your hoodie, hoping to hide the evidence of your encounter. You took a moment to gather yourself, shaking off the disorienting feelings that clouded your mind. Somehow, you felt a strange urge to keep it to yourself, a compulsion that tightened your throat. You couldn’t tell them. You physically couldn’t.

Taking a deep breath, you unzipped the tent and stepped outside, greeted by the crisp morning air and the sounds of your friends bustling around the campsite. They were in high spirits, joking and laughing as they packed up their gear, blissfully unaware of the turmoil brewing inside you.

“Hey, sleepyhead! You finally up?” Ji-won called, her voice cheerful and light. You managed a smile, forcing yourself to blend in with their laughter, the normalcy of the moment clashing violently with the chaos in your mind.

“Yeah, just needed a little extra rest,” you replied, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. You helped your friends pack the car, moving through the motions mechanically, but every time someone brushed against your shoulder or joked about the trip, you felt a pang of guilt twist in your stomach.

This was it - you were leaving the forest.

You climbed into the car, the familiar sights of trees and trails began to fade into the background, replaced by the hum of the engine and the chatter of your friends.

But the beauty of the forest was lost on you now, overshadowed by the memory of the castle and the enigmatic figure that haunted your thoughts. The drive back to the city felt interminable, a blur of colors and sounds that felt distant and unreal.

As you gazed out the window, the world sped by, but inside, time stood still. You wondered what would happen next, the memory of his voice echoing in your mind.

੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

The days after returning from the forest blurred into a haze of mundane life. You went through the motions—work, meals, interactions with friends—yet your mind often drifted back to him. It was absurd, really. You didn’t even know his name. He was a vampire for Christ’s sake! He had kidnapped you, hunted you down and sucked your blood. Logic screamed that it should be over. You should be relieved, grateful even. But instead, you found yourself longing for the very presence that had terrified you.

As you watched the bite heal over the following days, the hollow feeling in your chest only deepened. It was maddening to crave someone who had brought you so much fear, but you couldn’t help it. You missed the thrill of his presence, the way he had made you feel—alive and desired in a way that was intoxicatingly dangerous.

Finally, one restless night, you’d had enough. You packed a small bag with essentials—nothing too much, just enough for a quick escape. As you walked to your car, the cool air brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You glanced up at the star-speckled sky, letting the weight of your decision settle in. This was it; you were going back to find him, to confront whatever feelings you had buried deep inside.

Just then, you heard it—the soft but unmistakable sound of flapping wings. You squinted into the darkness, and to your shock, a large bat soared toward you, silhouetted against the moonlight. Your heart raced as the creature approached, growing larger and larger until it was right above you.

In an instant, the bat transformed, wings sweeping down as if caught in an invisible breeze. The dark silhouette shifted, the outline of the creature expanding and elongating until, with a graceful flourish, the wings folded and melted into the fabric of a dark cloak. It billowed around him, framing his tall, imposing figure as he stood before you in all his otherworldly glory.

His transformation was mesmerizing, each movement fluid and enchanting, as though he were a figure drawn from the pages of an ancient tale. The bat's fur receded, revealing smooth, pale skin, and his elongated face morphed into the man—sharp features emerging from the shadows.

When he fully materialized before you, his eyes, shimmering silver and reminiscent of the moonlit night, locked onto yours with an intensity that stole your breath. Those mesmerizing orbs held a depth that beckoned you closer, promising untold secrets and dark delights.

As he stepped forward, the cloak fluttered lightly around him, accentuating his tall, imposing frame. His movements were deliberate and graceful, as though he were still part of the night air, gliding instead of walking.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said, his voice a low murmur. Before you could reply, he stepped forward and pulled you into his arms, his hold both possessive and comforting. “I couldn’t bear to be away from you. This desire, this need to be close to you—it snapped the moment you left.”

Your heart raced, a mixture of fear and exhilaration coursing through you as you gazed up at him. “I felt the same,” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess them. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

A smile broke across his face, radiant and wicked, lighting up his features in the moonlight. “Then let’s not waste another moment.” He leaned down, capturing your lips with his in a kiss that was deep, hungry, and filled with all the longing you both had kept at bay.

As his mouth moved against yours, you melted into him, your earlier fears dissolving into a warmth that spread through your entire being. You were no longer just a scared girl standing in the dark; you were alive and desired.

You pulled back slightly from the kiss, still feeling the lingering heat of his lips against yours. “I didn’t think you would come,” you admitted, your heart racing from the intensity of the moment.

His gaze softened, and he brushed a thumb against your cheek. “You were meant for me,” he said, the certainty in his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “Long before we even met.”

Before you could respond, he lifted you effortlessly into his arms, and with a powerful thrust, he soared into the night sky. The wind whipped around you, and you gasped in a mix of exhilaration and fear as he held you tightly against him, his body a solid anchor. Below, the forest shrank away, and soon, the familiar silhouette of the castle emerged from the darkness.

He landed gracefully at the entrance, setting you down with a gentleness that belied his strength. You glanced around, awe washing over you as he led you inside. The castle felt alive, its ancient stones thrumming with an energy that pulsed in time with your heartbeat.

He guided you through dimly lit hallways until you reached a room at the heart of the castle. It was spacious, adorned with ornate furniture and draped fabrics that whispered tales of the past. The centerpiece of the room was an old portrait hanging on the wall, its colors faded but still striking.

You stepped closer, your breath catching in your throat as you took in the two figures locked in an embrace—lovers entwined as if frozen in time. They looked remarkably similar to you and him, their features hauntingly alike, as if you were gazing into a reflection of your own souls.

“We are destined to be together in every lifetime,” he said softly, his voice resonating with emotion. “Only in this one… you aren’t a vampire like me.”

You turned to him, searching his eyes for understanding. “But why? Why me?”

He stepped closer, cupping your face in his cold hands. “Because you’re the light to my darkness. My existence has always been shadowed, but you… you bring warmth, hope. I couldn’t let you go without fighting for you.”

As you looked into his eyes, the gravity of his words sank in, filling the space between you with an electric tension. You felt an overwhelming connection, as if the universe had conspired to bring you together across time and space.

“I want to understand this,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “I want to be with you.”

His expression softened, and he leaned closer, brushing his lips against your forehead. “Then let me show you what it means to be together in this life. We have all the time in the world to explore our love, to create a new destiny.”

He leaned in again, capturing your lips with his in a passionate kiss that sent shivers down your spine. His warmth enveloped you, igniting a fire deep within. You melted into him, lost in the depths of his embrace until he pulled away, his gaze locking onto the bite mark on your neck.

His expression shifted, a mix of hunger and longing in his eyes. “Please,” he whispered, his voice laced with an almost desperate edge. “I need to taste you again. Just a little… I promise it will feel even better this time.”

You felt a rush of excitement and trepidation as he lowered his mouth toward your neck. There was a part of you that wanted to resist, to remember the fear from before, but another part—one that yearned for him—welcomed the idea. You nodded, your breath hitching in your throat as he extended his fangs.

As they grazed your skin, a wave of anticipation coursed through you. He sank his fangs into the tender flesh, and the sensation was electric. A mix of pain and pleasure surged through your body, so much more intense than the first time. You gasped, a soft moan escaping your lips as he drew your blood, his mouth moving with a grace that sent pleasure spiraling through you.

Each pull was deeper, more fervent, and you felt your heart race in response. It was intoxicating, the way he savored every drop, as if you were the sweetest nectar he had ever tasted.

“More,” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with desire. You could feel his cool breath against your neck, heightening the experience as he drank you in, and you willingly surrendered to him. Every fiber of your being hummed with pleasure, and you felt yourself growing weaker, but you didn’t care. You craved this connection, the intensity of being with him.

When he finally pulled back, he looked almost dazed, eyes glinting with satisfaction and desire. “You’re even sweeter than I remembered,” he said, his voice low and husky, stained with your blood.

Your pulse quickened as you met his gaze, the lines between fear and desire blurring with each heartbeat. You realized you were irrevocably drawn to him, a part of you now tethered to his dark world.

“Now,” he continued, brushing his thumb over the bite mark as if to savor the memory, “we are truly connected. You’ve given me a piece of yourself, and now I want to give you everything in return.”

He then licked his lips, a playful glint in his eyes. “I will show you what it means to be loved by a vampire,” he promised, his voice smooth like silk. “I will take such good care of you, and together, I will reveal my world to you.” With each word, he pressed soft kisses along your neck, trailing to your throat, and then finally capturing your lips with his.

As he hovered slightly in the air, cradling you in his arms, you felt an overwhelming sense of trust and desire blooming within you. You nodded, unable to contain the excitement that surged through your veins. “Show me,” you breathed, and he smiled against your lips before taking off toward his room.

The world blurred around you as he flew effortlessly, the castle’s dark beauty rushing by in a haze. Within moments, you found yourselves in his chamber, where an open coffin awaited, its interior lined with dark velvet. He slowly descended, sinking into the coffin with you on top of him, still locked in a fervent embrace.

As he kissed you, his lips peppering your face with soft pecks, he whispered sweet nothings against your skin, his hands gliding down your back, anchoring you to him. “I’ve craved to hold you like this," he murmured, his voice a melodic caress that wrapped around you like a warm embrace.

You melted against him, heart racing. His lips found yours again, melding together in a tender yet passionate dance that left you breathless. But amidst the blissful haze, a question that had burned in your mind resurfaced, demanding to be answered. Pulling back slightly, you gazed into his mesmerizing eyes, the intensity of his gaze holding you captive. “What’s your name?” you asked, your breath hitching slightly as you searched his face for the answer.

“Sunghoon,” he replied, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. The sound of his name rolled off his tongue like a secret whispered in the dark, and you felt a thrill at the intimacy it promised.

Your heart raced as you whispered your name to him, and a knowing smile spread across his lips. “I know,” he said softly, his breath ghosting over your skin as he kissed your wrist with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. It was a sweet, intimate gesture that sent shivers coursing through you, awakening a desire you didn’t fully understand.

“Become my vampire bride,” he said, his gaze intense and brimming with yearning, making you feel like the only person in the world. The weight of his words hung between you like a promise, igniting a deep urge to be close to him, to belong to him entirely. But before you could find the words to respond, he leaned in, pressing his lips to a sensitive spot on your neck. A soft whine escaped your mouth, the sound betraying your excitement and vulnerability.

“Yes,” you gasped, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you. “I want to.”

Sunghoon’s eyes brightened with delight, and he captured your lips again, the kiss deepening as he pulled you closer, his warmth enveloping you. But he didn’t stop there; his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of gentle bites and teasing kisses. Each brush of his lips sent a wave of heat through your body, a rush of pleasure mixed with anticipation that left you breathless.

He nipped and sucked at your skin, his fangs grazing you just enough to send sparks dancing beneath the surface. You could feel the blood pooling just below your skin, and with each kiss, he seemed to coax it forth, drawing it into his eager mouth. The sensations built with every passing moment, the combination of his cold touch and the warmth of your blood leaving you hazy and utterly lost in the moment.

“Please, just a little more,” he groaned, his voice thick with longing as he lavished attention on your neck. The way he suckled at your skin, lapping at the small wounds he’d created, made you gasp and arch into him, your fingers tangling in his dark hair. The sound of your whines intertwined with his groans, creating a echo in the stillness of the room.

With each tender bite, he coaxed forth more of your blood, and the line between pleasure and pain blurred beautifully. You felt as though you were teetering on the edge of something profound, lost in the depths of his dark desire and your own.

੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

Just outside the window, a raven flapped its wings, its caw slicing through the thick silence of the night. It soared into the star-speckled sky, a dark silhouette against the moonlight. In a flurry of shadowy wings, a horde of bats followed closely behind, darting after the raven toward the depths of the forest.

But inside the dimly lit room, you and Sunghoon were far too consumed in each other to notice the creatures of the night flitting past. His lips were on your skin, painting soft, fevered kisses that left your heart racing and your mind spiraling. He was a whirlwind of dark passion, and you were ensnared in his spell. Every time he pulled back to meet your gaze, his red eyes sparkled with love and hunger.

(Feel free to reblog and like! <3)

[doyouknowthisanime]

Happy Halloween, everyone!

I've got some good news - I've finished tallying up the results of the favourite anime survey and can now, finally, reveal what Tumblr's favourite anime actually are. To start with, I'd like to thank everyone who responded - yes, all 1172 (wow!) of you - and to apologise for he delay in actually getting these results out. For anyone who needs a reminder, these results are based on how many points each anime received - a first place ranking was worth five points, a second or third place ranking was worth four, a fourth or fifth place ranking was worth three, a sixth-tenth place ranking was worth two, and a eleventh-twentieth place ranking was worth one. When multiple anime had the same number of points, the anime with the most first-place votes was placed higher. The results are below the read more right here - I hope you enjoy reading!

100. Yona of the Dawn - 82 points

99. Devilman Crybaby - 83 points

98. Monogatari Series - 83 points

97. Lucky Star - 84 points

96. Toradora - 84 points

95. Dr. Stone - 86 points

94. Princess Jellyfish - 86 points

93. ERASED - 87 points

92. Noragami - 87 points

91. Wolf's Rain - 88 points

90. Azumanga Daioh - 90 points

89. Paranoia Agent - 90 points

88. Odd Taxi - 91 points

87. Banana Fish - 93 points

86. Digimon Adventure - 95 points

85. Akira - 95 points

84. Higurashi no Naku Koro Ni - 95 points

83. Psycho-Pass - 96 points

82. Little Witch Academia - 96 points

81. Monster - 97 points

80. Mononoke - 98 points

79. Free! - 99 points

78. Kekkai Sensen - 99 points

77. Trigun Stampede - 102 points

76. Haibane Renmei - 103 points

75. Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters - 104 points

74. Gintama - 105 points

73. Violet Evergarden - 107 points

72. Dorohedoro - 113 points

71. Made in Abyss - 113 points

70. Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury - 113 points

69. Eizouken ni wa Te o Dasu na! - 115 points

68. Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind - 116 points

67. SK8 the Infinity - 117 points

66. Samurai Champloo - 117 points

65. Your Name - 118 points

64. Castle in the Sky - 119 points

63. Perfect Blue - 119 points

62. Promare - 120 points

61. One Punch Man - 122 points

60. The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya - 126 points

59. Kiki's Delivery Service - 129 points

58. Kaguya-sama: Love is War - 136 points

57. Inuyasha - 136 points

56. Assassination Classroom - 142 points

55. FLCL - 143 points

54. Pokémon - 144 points

53. Death Parade - 148 points

52. Dragon Ball - 150 points

51. Natsume Yuujinchou - 157 points

50. The Apothecary Diaries - 158 points

49. Revue Starlight - 159 points

48. Durarara!! - 160 points

47. Yu Yu Hakusho - 162 points

46. Naruto - 163 points

45. Black Butler - 165 points

44. Attack on Titan - 167 points

43. Houseki no Kuni - 168 points

42. Steins;Gate - 172 points

41. Cardcaptor Sakura - 186 points

40. Code Geass - 186 points.

39. Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-Kun - 187 points

38. The Disastrous Life of Saiki K. - 192 points

37. Kill la Kill - 194 points

36. Bungou Stray Dogs - 194 points

35. Baccano! - 198 points

34. Bocchi the Rock! - 201 points

33. Chainsaw Man - 208 points

32. Demon Slayer - 209 points

31. Serial Experiments Lain - 213 points

30. Jujutsu Kaisen - 227 points

29. Spy x Family - 236 points

28. Howl's Moving Castle - 238 points

27. Princess Mononoke - 240 points

26. Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann - 241 points

25. Sailor Moon - 249 points

24. Mushi-shi - 249 points

23. Princess Tutu - 254 points

22. Nichijou - 263 points

21. Trigun - 265 points

20. Spirited Away - 266 points

19. My Hero Academia - 266 points

18. Fruits Basket (2019) - 269 points

17. Soul Eater - 292 points

16. Sousou no Frieren - 300 points

15. Yuri!!! on Ice - 333 points

14. Fullmetal Alchemist - 364 points

13. Ouran High School Host Club - 374 points

12. Death Note - 437 points

11. Cowboy Bebop - 450 points

10. Haikyuu - 457 points

9. Neon Genesis Evangelion - 496 points

8. Jojo's Bizarre Adventure - 496 points

7. Hunter x Hunter (2011) - 516 points

6. Revolutionary Girl Utena - 537 points

5. One Piece - 633 points

4. Puella Magi Madoka Magica - 664 points

3. Mob Psycho 100 - 943 points

2. Dungeon Meshi - 985 points

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood - 1106 points

Congratulations to FMA Brotherhood for winning! For more detailed results, go to this spreadsheet. Once again, thank you all for participating, and waiting so patiently for the results!

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: You're a stupid drunk and James Potter is very very bad at dealing with his romantic feelings.

Genre: Angst (happy ending), fluff, hurt and comfort (a little bit of everything honestly)

Warnings: jealous!james, stupid!james, swearing, screaming, arguments, crying, injuries, punching, blood, protective!James, protective!marauders, platonic!best friends!marauders, confessions, dangerous activities (reader puts herself in danger), mentions of dying

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

You look towards the ground and your ankle bends a little in your winter boots as you try to control your movements. The cherry liquor you had drank earlier lingers in your mouth and in your drunken haze, the tower you're currently balancing on feels secure as you move forwards and the onlookers below continue to cheer. 

"Please don't stay out too late," Remus warned you.

You blush, shaking some snow from your hair as you outstretch your arms for better balance, biting your lip. You look up at the sky, the stars prominent this evening.

"And don't drink too much," James reminded you with small smile. 

"We'll see you there," Sirius promised.

What the hell did they know? You pout, now staring down at the snow on the ground. They hadn't even shown up!

You hear someone call your name and you look down to see Arthur Brown, a Ravenclaw boy you'd been talking with at a party. He's handsome with a charming smile and as you wave to him, you almost fall over. 

Arthur just chuckles and encourages you to continue whatever nonsense and liquid courage inspired you to walk on the castle roof in the snow this late at night. 

"Y/n?" you hear Remus's strained shout and when you turn your head, you're surprised to see Remus, James, and Sirius rushing over. They aren't dressed for the cold weather and they look extremely shaken and confused. "Come down from there," Remus shouts. You wonder how they'd known.

Sirius looks pale and James is frantically looking around to find some way to help you down safely. He looks more distraught than the others and Sirius has to calm him.

Your eyebrows knit together. You're afraid James might make a scene. Only, why would he? You know he'd let Remus, Sirius, or Peter do this in a heart beat, and he'd find it funny.

Bloody hell, James would probably do it himself so why does he look so worried when it's you?

"Bugger off, she's fine," Arthur interrupts as you take another step. Your boots slip on the snow again but you laugh as you move your arms out further to catch yourself. "See, she's fine. So, stop being her little guard dogs for one second and let her live a little," he says with unnecessary venom. 

"What did you just say?" Sirius barks, grabbing Arthur's collar. He looks furious now. 

"Y/n, come down, please, honey," Remus calls, occasionally telling Sirius to drop it and to concentrate on you.

You frown as Arthur's teasing riles up your friends and the crowd underneath you. Wind swirls around you and you gasp, feeling suddenly even more unbalanced and you start to realize maybe this wasn't the smartest plan.

"You fuckin' prick, don't talk about her like that, you hear me?" James suddenly swears loudly. Because you hadn't been paying attention to the boys under you, when you hear James and look down at him, you see that he'd pushed Arthur into the snow and was pinning him down.

Alarmed by their shouts, you accidentally slip as you turn around to make sure James's is okay.  

You let out a shriek and all the students suddenly look up, seeming to remember your presence. Momentarily distracted by your scream, Arthur slams his elbow into James's cheekbone and sends him falling off him. Chaos ensues as everyone rushes to crowd around both you and James separately. 

Remus kneels next to you, his hand coming behind your head to support you up. You're clutching at your ankle as you wail uncontrollably from the way you had fallen onto the snow. With nimble fingers, Remus cuffs your jeans and sees how swollen your ankle looks. "Oh, honey, that looks like it hurts," he whispers and caresses your cheek with his knuckles. 

From next to you, Sirius and other students are standing around James; James, who has scrambled up from the ground. His nose is bleeding and the crimson liquid stains the snow as he curses at Arthur. Sirius is holding James up by his shoulders and he uses his hand to pinch James's nose as his best friend winces in pain. Arthur, who has a prominent bruise under his eye, is pulled away by his friends. 

"What happened here?" The low drone of the Headmaster, accompanied by an anxious looking Professor McGonagall, is heard and you all turn your heads around.

* * *

Around an hour later, as Madam Pomfrey takes the time to heal your ankle, a disheveled looking James sits on the bed opposite of yours. He's holding a handkerchief to his nose and Madam Pomfrey hasn't tended to his injury yet. To her defense, James still looks extremely pissed and you wouldn't want to approach him either. You won't have that same luxury as the moment Madam Pomfrey is gone, James is staring.  

"What were you thinking?" he whispers, his tone quipped. Still a little fuzzy from how drunk you'd been, you blink at him and shift uncomfortably. 

"What was I thinking? What were you thinking?" you counter, defensively.

"What?" James drops the handkerchief and glares. 

"Why would you jump Arthur like that?"

"Why the fuck do you care?" James hisses, his eyes narrowing. He's your best friend, he knows you hate it when he swears but that doesn't stop him now. "You're fucking reckless, you know? How could you have been so fucking stupid?"

You stare at James as your eyes water painfully. No coherent words form in your head. You're grateful for an escape when Remus and Sirius pile into the room. 

Sirius rushes to your side. "Aw, poor sweetness, does it hurt terribly?" his sentence dies when he sees your tears and he wraps an arm around you so you can hug him. "Y/n, what's wrong?" 

Remus, always more intuitive than Sirius, looks at James and sees James's furious expression. He frowns and quickly walks over to his best friend and holds onto his arm. James pushes him away and you see Remus whisper something in his ear. 

However, Sirius pulls your attention away from them as he wipes your tears with his thumb. 

"I am not!" Your attention is pulled again and you hear James shout as Remus shushes him.

You sniff, and look at Sirius. "James hates me," you say and Sirius's expression falls. He looks behind and sees Remus and James's shushed argument. He turns to you and holds your chin in his hand as his gaze softens. 

"James couldn't hate you even if he'd been cursed to," he says so simply.

You shake your head and bite your lip. "No, he's really mad…like really mad, Pads."

Sirius chuckles and sighs, "Oh sweetie, James isn't really mad at you. He's mad at himself. Merlin, you should have seen him when he first saw you on that roof, the poor bloke looked about ready to faint." 

Sirius continues and turns to Remus and James only to see they've moved further away from you and Sirius, and James looks like he could burst into tears at any moment, "Jamie is madly in love with you, Y/n. Just the possibility of you and another guy makes him go absolutely bonkers. And listen, if he hadn't hit Arthur like he did, I don't know if you would have fallen, doll. James knows that too and he's simply mad with guilt."

You try to concentrate on Sirius's entire story but your mind stays stuck at the words; "James? In love with me?" 

Sirius's lips curl in amusement but he doesn't have the time to answer because he hears Remus shout an exasperated; "Prongs!" as James, his nose still very much broken and bloody, storms out of the Hospital Wing without a second word. Your chest tightens as you watch him and if you could, you'd run after him.

* * *

James has been avoiding you. Or more accurately, he's been avoiding everyone for the last three days. He's never in the common room anymore and he has evening detentions with Professor McGonagall so you don't see him at all outside of classes. Remus, Sirius, and Peter all tell you he's been quiet in their dorm too and that they don't know what's happened with him either. 

Remus won't tell anyone what he spoke to James about that night in the Hospital Wing.

By the fourth day of complete silence, you've had enough. You manage to catch James on his way to detention. You speed walk over to him and cut his path, spinning around to look at him. You gasp when you see him. His face is bruised and his lip is split. "James!" you gasp and stop him. James's brown eyes narrow and he looks angry. 

"Get out of my way, Y/n," he hisses as his fists clench. 

"What happened?" you insist. His burises look horrible, and you think that he hadn't got his broken nose healed properly since he'd stormed out of the Hospital Wing. Why handn't the boys told you James looked like this?

"Are you a bloody insane? What he fuck happened?" your voice comes out stern and James pauses at your curse word, his frustrated expression faltering for a moment. 

"What?"

You hold onto his sleeve and push him into the nearest girls lavatory. James almost trips as you make him lean against the sink. His eyes widen when you pull out your wand and firmly grasp his chin in your hands. You ignore his whinning as you point your wand at his wounds. "Episky—shush be still," you mutter sternly as you heal all of his wounds. "What is wrong with you, James Potter? Tell me who you've been tousling with this instant!"

James scrunches his nose and touches where his wounds had been. He leans away from you. "Nobody," he says, his voice high so you know he's lying. 

"James," you warn. You move away and shove your wand in your cloak. "Please, tell me."

James has never been able to deny you a thing, even at times like this. "Fine, just don't lose your head over it, bird," you scowl at the nickname with an eye roll. "Brown keeps pushing my buttons, is all," he says. 

"Arthur? The same boy who broke your nose?"

"Yeah, that little fucker, I'm pretty sure he's in love with you—or he has some weird obsession because he can't keep your name out of his fucking mouth," James suddenly pinches his nose and shuts his eyes, "Shi-sorry I keep curing, I know you don't like it when we curse." 

Almost like he's sulking, James leans against the sink and stares at you. He doesn't speak. 

"You're such a wanker," you mumble and look at him more closely, "Why are you acting like such a prick since that night?"

"Oh, since the night you almost fucking died?" James raises his eyebrows, his tone sarcastic and you ignore the curse word again. 

"Horrible exaggeration considering all I did was break my ankle."

"Could have been your neck," James deadpans. 

"Well, it wasn't my neck and that's certainly no excuse to be a such a prat," you say seriously. James considers your words and sighs. He runs a hand through his shaggy hair and looks away. 

"What do you want me to say?" he asks. 

You stare at him like he's absolutely mental. "That you're sorry?"

James laughs and you swear you've never met a boy as stubborn as he is. "Why would I be sorry?"

"Are you serious, James?" you whisper and press your finger accusingly on his chest, "Listen to me, I know I shouldn't have been on that roof, that's my mistake, but you know damn well I wouldn't have been on that roof if you'd all come with me to the party like you'd promised!" your voice comes out rushed, "And I wouldn't have fallen if you didn't have to knock down Arthur Brown and make me worried for you!"

James's cheeks are flaming. "You think I, out of everyone, don't know that?" he says, straightening up and moving closer to you, his voice harsh, "do you think I don't lay awake at night, going absolutely insane over every possible scenario that prevents you from falling?" James's voice cracks and he steps forwards again. 

You look up at him, slightly breathless. For someone so angry, James looks undeniably handsome. "I know we should have gone to the party with you, but Merlin, I couldn't bear another one! Another party I would have had to spend watching other boys fawn all over you! Fuck, Y/n, how could I have known you would decide take a drunken nightly stroll on a roof because we hadn't shown up!"

You listen to him, eyes wide, "You don't like it when boys fawn over me?" you whisper. 

James frowns. He bites his lip and squeezes his eyes closed. "Of course I don't," he says, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

"Why?" 

"Because you should be mine," James's voice is smaller now, less authoritative, less angry. 

You stare at him and take in his expression with an inhale of breath. "But, James, I am yours."

James shakes his head quickly and tugs at his curls. "No, no. You aren't mine. You're ours. Sirius, Remus, Peter—you're our best friend. And I was okay with that, until I wasn't anymore and now everytime Arthur Brown says he wants to kiss your lips all I want is to punch something." James's fists clench and he looks away from you. 

"You're scaring me," you look at him, whispering honestly but you don't move away from him.

James looks down and this time he looks really remorseful, "I'm sorry, Y/n, I don't meant to scare you. I—"

"So, Sirius was right," you inquire, taking his sudden remorse as a widow for a civilized conversation. 

"Sirius was right about what?" 

"You're in love with me," you don't say it as a question, more like a statement and James's eyes round so wide you're almost afraid they'll pop out of his skull.

James tries to escape but as he backs away, he bumps into the sink and his heart sinks. His eyes are moving so rapidly around the room and his cheeks have turned a less aggressive crimson and into a more lovesick pink. 

"Why does everyone keep telling me that?" he mumbles to himself, feeling warmth on his cheek. 

"What?"

James rubs at his nape and looks less angry and more nervous. You smile. You had been right to strike this conversation now. "Moony, in the Hospital Wing. He said I loved you—which was why I was acting like a prick and I don't," he backtracks immediately, "I mean, I love you as a friend and n-nothing more."  

You expected to feel pain at the rejection but instead, you laugh. You stare at James and laugh harder. So hard, you clutch your sides and James's eyebrows crease with worry as you hyperventilate in front of him. 

"Because you should be mine," you repeat his words through your laughter, "That's what you said and now you want me to believe you aren't in love with me?!"

"What?!" James's crimson cheeks have returned and he sounds annoyed now, "I- listen, sorry to disappoint but I-I am not in love with you!"

"You aren't?" you look at him, your eyes flickering to his lips. 

"No!"

"Then why do you want me to be yours? What does that mean, hmm, James?"

You walk a little closer and your arms rest on the sink behind him. You ignore the way your heart is pounding your chest and screaming at you as you stand so close to him. James is staring down as you look up at him through your lashes. You expect another protest, maybe another incoherent defense, but instead he mumbles, "Fuck it," under his breath and takes your cheeks in his hands as he kisses you. 

Without a second thought, you kiss him back. Your hand tangles in his hair as you press your lips to his. It's almost animalistic the way James is kissing you and it only lasts a few seconds before he's disconnecting your lips and resting his forehead onto yours. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he pants, shaking his head, "I shouldn't have kissed you without asking you—"

     "Oh, shut up," you grumble and kiss him again. He accepts the kiss and spins you around. He uses his arm to hoist you onto the sink and deepen the kiss. You hold onto him and wince when your hip accidentally hits the faucet. James pulls away and looks at you like he can't believe what just happened. 

"Okay, so maybe I am in love with you," he finally admits and his chest is heaving from all the emotions. 

You crack a smile, "I'm in love with you too, James," you admit and touch his cheek. "Only, you can't act like a prick to me when you can't deal with your emotions. You should have told me all these feelings instead of sulking like a child." 

James nods and squeezes his eyes shut, "I was just so angry at myself," he whispers.

"I know, Sirius said that was the reason."

James chuckles with a roll of his eyes, "How does Sirius suddenly know my emotions better than I do? He's usually the emotional wreck!" 

You adjust his glasses a little, "He's just observant," you say, "and you're stubborn."

James pulls you in, holding you close to him as he dips and kisses your neck. He hums against your skin and whispers, "I'm such a fool, can you forgive me?" he asks, basically pleads, "I'm just, I was jealous."

You laugh, "Oh, I know. But, James, you know you have no reason to be jealous of anyone."

James whines and looks at you with his famous doe eyes; "I have every reason to be jealous. I'm jealous of the way Peter laughs at your jokes, or how Remus bonds over books with you. I'm jealous of Sirius and how he makes you laugh, and I'm jealous of every boy that looks your way. And worst of all, I'm jealous of the sun because it shines on you every day and I can't," he sounds like a lovesick idiot. He's barely making sense. 

You look at him seriously, "James. You are the sun. You're my sun." 

James looks into your eyes and bats his eyelashes innocently. He says, "So, you forgive me for being a wanker?" It's obvious he wants to make you laugh and he succeeds as you chuckle and playfully and lightly swat his cheek. 

"I'll forgive you," you say, "for now."

James pouts but he also lifts you and spins you around. He drops you on the ground, his hands at your hips and kisses your forehead. "I'll take it, love. Now, let's tell our friends we aren't mad at each other anymore."

"I was never really mad with you," you point out with a snort as James takes your hand. 

James squints, and looks behind his shoulder at you. "Yeah, you were," he says but when you shake your head he decides not to argue with you and just smiles, "Okay, fine, then let's go tell our friends I'm not being a baby anymore."

"Much better," you beam with a giggle and James realizes with a hopeless smile that he wants to be the only reason you ever giggle like that again. 

Merlin, he really is madly in love with you.