#she’s alive and a being and she was sleeping here bc she likes it in my room…. ough

[mars-ipan]

had to kick my dog outta my room so i could enter bedtime mode and i can feel a warm spot on the bed where she had been resting…. ;A;

[anthromimicry]

anyhow, i have now come up with a happy end(ing) for misao even though... well, it may be debatable as to whether she deserves it BUT like wonder woman once said — it's not about what you deserve. and of course i'm not trying to say that misao could make up for all of the bad thing's she's done throughout the years because honestly,, she has a LOT of blood on her hands, but good redemption arcs for characters aren't made to erase all of the bad thing's they've done in the past, in my opinion. they're made to accept what they've done and how, although they CAN'T make up for it, they can start working towards a better future and won't make the same mistakes again regardless of what kind of protests they might face from people who think they might be faking it or that they don't deserve it.

but anywhozies, misao's happy ending is becoming a grief therapist because helping other people work through their grief would also help HER work through her own, i feel like... and somewhere where people really need it so maybe in the east end or something?¿ and she'd also offer some pro-bono therapy sessions for the rogues because, like i said, she's not trying to erase all of the bad things she's done because that's virtually impossible. but misao would be trying to make amends with people and that includes the people whom she counseled / had therapy sessions with in arkham. and they don't have to forgive her, OFC, at any point. but i just feel like that'd be something she'd put out there for them and what makes this ending even more truly happy is this.

misao reuniting with ryuuji, her half-brother, and since he works as a medical examiner (yeah, he eats off of the dead bodies, y'all JSJSJ) ... he could transfer to gotham + be a part of the PD and sneakily take back parts of people as gross as that might sound for misao to eat. but i mean, at least she wouldn't be killing people anymore and it's an arrangement that would work for them to be able to eat, in retrospect. so yeah

[mental-skillness]

lmfao. I'm gonna give up. Like, I don't even know what we're fucking doing at this point but it is painfully obvious that I'm just desperate for human connection. I'm giving up. I can focus on my life and my job and pretend I don't need anyone at all for a little bit. And maybe then I'll be okay again

[selfcarecap]

Cat & Dog [L.H.]

✧ Logan Howlett x kitty hybrid!reader

✧ summary: Logan rescues you, a kitty hybrid, on a mission and you become infatuated with him. (that’s all the plot you get, the rest is porn lol <3)

✧ warnings: smut 18+, unequal power dynamics bc Logan saves reader (and she’s a bit naive and inexperienced), kitty hybrid!reader (human with kitty ears, a tail, claws and kind of fangs and she purrs), reader’s first time, unprotected piv, oral sex, Logan teases reader a lot, slight daddy kink (like two mentions – still figuring out whether i like it for Logan), implied age gap, pet names (baby, bub, kid (not during sex), sweetheart, kitty — at first mockingly but then not), reader making biscuits on Logan w/ her claws lol, slight pain kink, Logan teaches reader about consent, uh i ignored that the reader’s probably gone through some trauma lool, Logan is indifferent to reader’s feelings for him at first but it changes, reader wears Logan’s hoodie; alternative summary that i thought was too cringe to use: Logan’s a nasty dog and you’re his pretty kitty. 

✧ word count: 5.2k

Logan Howlett is your saviour — the most handsome hero to ever exist.

He finds you on a mission, abandoned like the runt of the litter. The only reason he knows you’re still alive as he carefully approaches you, curled into a ball, is because his strengthened senses allow him to hear your dull heartbeat, and the matted tail at your lower back bristles when you hear him come closer.

“I’ll get you out of here, kid. You’re safe now,” he says, telling you his name and that he’s part of the X-Men. You turn slightly at the sound of one of his claws unsheathing, and watch him use it to pick the lock of the cage you’re being held in.

He opens the door and takes more steps backwards than necessary, “There you go.” 

You’d be able to dart straight past him and escape. You trust him. He smells different from the men that locked you in here, too. Sure, he smells a bit doggish, or like a wolf maybe, but he’s sweaty from fighting men to get to you so you’re not going to complain.

You slowly crawl through the cage door on all fours, feeling his eyes rake over your body. You don’t know why he’s staring – apart from your tail, and, sure, your ears, you have the body of a human – but you don’t mind it. You immediately feel warm in his presence. Everything is about to get better, all thanks to him.

He carries you in his arms when you’re too weak to even stand and you’ve never felt as peaceful and protected as when he holds you, and you cling to him with all the energy you have left. You can’t help but hiss when he puts you down in the seat next to him instead of in his lap to get you home.

-

It’s now been two weeks since you last saw Logan. He gave you his zip hoodie to keep you warm as soon as you got to the mansion and he didn’t leave your side until you were safely in the infirmary. You wish he never left.

They’re insisting on keeping you in here to heal, ignoring every time you ask for Logan. You feel healthy – they’ve even made your tail all pretty and fluffy again – so you take it upon yourself to find him.

You sneak out of the infirmary late at night, and all you have to do to find Logan is follow your senses.

Once you’ve located his room, you push the door open without any thought. He’s in bed but he’s still awake. The light on his nightstand casts a glow over the room and you smile when you finally see him again.

“What’re you doing here, kid?” he asks, sitting up slightly. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers, and you eye the muscles from his chest down to his abdomen, noticing the delicious layer of hair he has all over.

“Can’t sleep,” you take a step over the threshold, holding onto the door shyly.

Logan smiles, more to himself, “Was wondering when I’d see you again, bub.”

“Was waiting for you to come visit me,” you pout. You jut out your hip to one side, your tail curling upwards and peeking out behind your legs. You’re showing off. Last time he saw your tail, it was all tattered, but now it’s soft and bouncy again. You see Logan looking at it, smiling slightly, but he doesn’t compliment it like you hoped.

“We barely know each other. It’s nothing personal, kid. It was a standard mission. Anyone from our team could have got you first.” It stings that he doesn’t find your bond as special as you do, but you don’t mind if you have to do some convincing. He’s worth it.

“But we do know each other,” you close the door and make your way to his bed, “You saved me. I wouldn’t be alive without you. I just want to show you my appreciation.” You’re at the foot of his bed, crawling onto it on all fours. You’d never normally be this blunt but you can’t help yourself around him. Your need for him has taken over your entire being in the last two weeks. 

You watch him taking you in. Your movements are sensual and sleek – feline. You know he’s never been with someone like you, and you’re happy for him to take his time if he needs it. Perching on his bed, between his spread legs, you slowly unzip the hoodie of his that you’re still wearing.

His eyes follow the languid movement as you drag the zipper down, revealing your simple black top underneath. It clings to your skin in all the right places in the same way that your soft, tight, black shorts do.

“Looks good on you,” he nods towards the hoodie.

“Do you want me to keep it on?” You ask, but he shakes his head, smiling. 

“It’ll look better off.”

You unzip it fully, throwing it to the side of the bed. 

“Can I stay with you?” you lean over him. He’s about to open his mouth, and you have a feeling he’s going to tell you no.

“Please,” you cut him off.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he huffs, moving to give your ears a light scratch, “you can stay for a bit”. He’s intrigued enough to let you stay – you can hear it in his elevated heartbeat – and you don’t mind if curiosity is the only reason he’s keeping you with him for now. 

He paws at your fluffy ears, almost groping you, unsure how to treat you, but you haven’t been touched there in so long that it feels like heaven anyway.

“Who’s a good kitty?” he mocks as he gets the sweet spot behind your ear, but you don’t realise he’s teasing you, pushing your head further against his hand in bliss as you begin to purr. 

Logan isn’t sure how you’re making the noise, but it turns him on. He wants to hear more of it, “Well, don’t you sound pretty?” 

Your purring intensifies. You move down his body and settle over his legs, your head in his lap as his hand stays on your head. It’s then that Logan realises he’s already half-hard. The only reason he let you in was because he’s sexually intrigued by you, your cute demeanour and that fluffy tail somehow doing it for him. But he wasn’t planning on actually doing anything — not until now.

Your face is mere inches from his cock and he’s starting to ache to do something about it, getting harder. You’re still trying to find the most comfortable position as you rub your cheek across his lap like a little cat. You stop when you feel his erection.

“Are you hard?” you ask bluntly, eyes all wide. 

“I am, bub.”

“For me?” you purr quietly.

“All for you.” Logan tips his head to the side, waiting to see your reaction. He can tell that whatever you’re asking him next is taking you a bit more courage. He watches you gnaw on your lip all cutely.

“I’ve never seen a cock before…” you confess, and Logan stifles a laugh.

“Y’wanna?” He surprises himself when he says it. At first, he thought your affection was simply that of the saved towards her saviour, or familial maybe, but he’s not mad at this. 

Logan gets fully hard as you nod at him in such awe, your tail curling around his bare leg, and it’s even softer than it looks.

He pushes his boxers down just enough to pull out his cock, jerking himself off for just a few seconds to get some friction. You’re staring at it as you move your legs back, instinctively arching your back with your ass up. 

Your tail bobs behind you Logan can’t resist giving it a light tug, curling his finger around it. “Mmh,” you huff, pulling your tail away by instinct.

“Sorry, kitty,” he chuckles, “just wanted to feel it.” Your cheeks warm at his confession and you move your tail back in the direction of his hand so he can reach for it when he wants to. Your tail is your pride and you won’t let just anyone touch it – Logan’s the exception. He can gladly dominate you by tugging at your tail all day if he wants. 

He smiles as he touches your tail again, letting it glide through his fist from the bottom to the tip of your fur. “Such a pretty kitty,” he hums as he bites his lip. 

Hearing that he likes it pleases you more than you would’ve thought and you begin to purr again. You’re not exactly sure how to go down on a man, but you let your intuition guide you as you lower your face to press a wet kiss to the tip of Logan’s cock.

Suddenly, he’s pulling you back up by the scruff of your neck.

“Ah-ah. Manners, bub. You gotta ask first, you don’t know that?” Logan scolds.

His expression goes soft as you shake your head all sadly and apologetically, “‘S okay, kitty. I’ll teach you. Say please.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

You look at him as you get back up on all fours, leaning close to his face. You want to kiss him so bad but you gather you’re not allowed to do that without asking either. 

“Please can I kiss you, daddy?” you ask.

Logan is surprised, not unpleasantly, at the word, “Where’d you get that from?” 

You shrug, and even that movement is fluid and smooth. “Just wanted to call you that. ‘S that okay?” You slur, head already clouded with pleasure and Logan.

He nods and places his hand back on your neck, pulling you towards him as your face reaches his in a searing kiss. He’s hungry for you, devouring you with his mouth and tongue and teeth immediately. His hand glides down your spine and to the side of your ass, grabbing you there. 

You purr against his lips as his other hand squeezes the flesh at your waist, and the vibration feels so good to him. You lower yourself against him so you’re chest to chest, and your belly rubs against his cock as some of his precum spills between you two, rubbing up against your skin and dripping onto his own abs.

Logan gently pulls you off, “Be a good girl and suck daddy’s dick now, alright?” You nod so adorably it makes his heart clench – you’re so eager to please him, all wide-eyed as you get between his legs, your ass up in the air.

On your way down, you give tiny licks to his skin; your tongue is all over his chest hair and his happy trail. Your tongue glides through his pubic hair, ignoring his throbbing cock, and you make your way to his thighs. He watches you lick through the dark hair there, and he realises what you’re doing. 

You’re acting like a cat, taking care of him. You’re bonding with him, and grooming him. He lets you do it some more, but it becomes increasingly difficult to ignore how hard he is, leaking precum. He slides a hand down to his dick, jerking off right next to your face.

“Mhh,” you pout, pushing his hand away with your head and giving him a cross look.

He smirks, “you gonna start sucking at some point then, baby?” It’s not that he doesn’t like you playing around but he’s getting desperate. He places a hand on your face to make you look at him.

“I don’t know how to.” Your cheeks are hot under his touch. 

Logan smiles, “Start with kisses. Or lick, like you’ve been doing.”

You nod and curl your tail around his knee, your hands to the sides of his hips. You press a wet kiss to the underside of his cock and Logan sighs in pleasure; you immediately want to hear more of it. You press quick kisses all over him, remembering what he said about using your tongue.

You begin to lick all over his dick, his balls too, until you’re drooling over him. But he’s stopped making pretty sounds and you’re not sure what you’re doing wrong. You hear a quiet chuckle from above you.

“Come up here,” Logan says. You sit up and straddle his waist. He takes your hand, bringing it to his mouth.

“Like this,” he tells you, taking one of your fingers between his lips. He wets it with his spit, sucking it into his mouth, tongue moving over your fingertip. You grin – you like the look of it. You like the way his cheeks hollow as he sucks on your finger, wishing your hands were as big as his.

As you move to push another finger past his lips, Logan takes your wrist. “Uh-uh. Your turn, kitty.” 

You pout but then feel his hard cock against your ass, your tail brushing it, and you get excited. 

“And none of those sharp teeth,” Logan tells you as you move down his body again. You bare your smile to him, letting your fangs retract. They’re a special part of you and you’re glad you could finally show them off to someone who deserves to see. Logan awards your little show with a grin. 

“Good girl.” Those words make you put your mouth on him immediately, swallowing him down your throat as deeply as you can. You pull away when you almost gag, heat spreading over your face, but Logan is unbothered.

You settle between his legs as you press a few more open-mouthed kisses to his cock with spit-slicked lips. You take the tip in your mouth, staying for a bit as you suck on it, spit dripping down his length and over your lips.

You start purring when you take him a little deeper, and Logan’s breath catches in his throat when you do, the vibration turning him on even more.

“Keep doing that,” he mumbles absent-mindedly, eyes on you but mind evidently gone. You smile around his cock, moving your mouth up and down as the spit begins to make a crude sound against your lips, but you like it. You’re feeling more and more of an urge to touch yourself between your legs, but you want to make Logan feel good first.

Your purring gets louder as you take him even deeper, and Logan lets out a sharp gasp. You pull your mouth off him, wondering if you’ve hurt him, sliding your tongue over your teeth to make sure the sharp fangs aren’t out.

Following Logan’s eyes, you see what you’ve done. Your claws have come out, and you’ve been scratching his thighs open. You feel tears prick your eyes as you bend down to lick over the wounds apologetically, wondering in awe as they heal up immediately.

“Don’t worry, just surprised me. You won’t hurt me.”

“Sorry, ‘s just how I show that I like you. Don’t wanna let you go”, you hang your head low in shame despite his words.

“It’s okay, kitty,” he lightly scratches at your ear, making you purr and forget all about hurting him, “Do your worst.”

You’re not sure if he’s teasing you. “Know they’re not as big as yours.”

Logan huffs, taking a hand away from you, pressing his elbow into the bed and his claws come shooting out. You only saw one of them briefly, when he saved you. They’re majestic up close and in all their glory, glinting against the low light. 

You reach out, “Pretty.” Logan smiles at your sparkling eyes, but retracts his claws before you can touch them.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, baby.”

You give him the meanest look you can muster for not letting you touch, sinking your own, much tinier, claws into his abs to hurt him. But Logan lets out a soft moan instead, and you marvel at the pleasure he takes in the pain, forgetting all about why you’re mad at him.

Your eyes light up when you realise he likes you scratching him open. It’s a dream come true – someone who likes the way you show affection. You bite your lip as you scratch over his abs, his hips, and his thighs, watching as the wounds close up just before you draw blood. You hook your tiny claws into the flesh of his thighs as you wrap your lips around his cock again.

Logan lets out a string of moans as you have your claws in him and your mouth on him. You begin to purr, and with the way his cock flexes in your mouth you know he’s close.

“Just a little more for me, can you do that, baby?” he gently nudges your head down some more, and with the praise coming from his lips you can definitely take him – you feel like you could do anything.

“Yeah, just like that.” Logan’s voice gets shaky as you take his cock deeper, spit running down to his balls as you take almost all of him in your warm, wet mouth. 

You swallow everything Logan gives you as he cums in your mouth, shooting strings of his warm load down your throat. You don’t stop until he’s gently pulling you off him, and you look up at him.

“Again,” you plead, eyes wide, taking in how his cock is still hard.

Logan chuckles, “Don’t get used to the idea of that. Most men can’t go more than once.” 

You look at him strangely – what do other men matter to you? Before you can ask, Logan manhandles you into a different position, and you don’t notice until then that you’ve been grinding your clothed pussy against his knee, and you whine at the loss of contact.

You’re on your knees as Logan gets up to fully remove his boxers, and you see the skin at his knee glistening from where you’ve soaked it. The sight makes your cheeks heat up but also makes you press your thighs together.

He’s standing in front of you like a god, and you put a hand on his thigh to suck his cock again. Before your mouth can reach him, he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Your turn now, kitty.”

“Oh,” you say as he lies you on your back.

“Gonna play with you now. Can I take this off?” he’s holding the bottom of your top, and you nod as he pulls it off you. Logan gets on the bed again, taking in the sight of you half-naked. You’ve never felt so good about yourself. He looks as if he’s seen God herself.

“Look at you, kitty, so fucking pretty,” he whispers more to himself, touching and kissing you there as his knees sink into the mattress. You arch your back when he wraps his lips around your nipple, and the action makes your pussy rub up against him. He looks down between your thighs, pushing his mouth there.

You’re not wearing any underwear, so his face against your thin shorts makes you squirm. “Smell so good,” he breathes, rubbing his nose up against your clit. It makes you moan.

He begins to pull down your pants, stopping as they catch on your tail. The nurses cut a hole into the back of the material for it, and your cheeks glow when Logan carefully pulls your sensitive tail out of the way before he slides your shorts all the way down your legs, spreading them to get a look of you afterwards.

“Look at you, kitty. Prettiest kitty I’ve ever seen,” you miss his joke, placing your feet on Logan’s broad shoulders, as he says “Can I?”

You’re appalled that he even has to ask, pushing his head down between your legs. 

He begins to eat you like a man starved, moaning against your skin at the taste of your wet pussy. He doesn’t even tease you, licking through all your wetness, licking over your clit in circles.

Logan pushes two fingers in without any preparation, but you still feel too empty, grinding your hips against him. 

“I got you,” he promises, lapping up all of you, “Best thing I’ve ever tasted.” He grabs one of your thighs, holding it so that you don’t squeeze his ears any more. Your knees are still pressing against his temples, but he doesn’t mind them there. He can feel you tremble when he licks and sucks and when he curls his fingers.

Logan has you cumming on his tongue quickly, sucking on your clit until you’re seeing stars, whining for him to stop. He pulls his lips off you, sitting up to push his fingers into your mouth.

“You taste good, huh?” he smirks as you suck your own arousal off him, humming around his fingers in agreement. He slowly fucks his fingers into you again, bringing them up to his own lips. He moves his hand between your legs again, fingers going over the hair above your pussy.

“You’re so soft here, kitty,” he says, leaning down to nuzzle his cheek against your pubic hair, making you giggle.

You’re still wet, and he’s still hard, and you don’t want to be too direct but you want to know when he’s finally going to fuck you. You tell him “I’ve never done this before either,” hoping he’ll catch what you’re getting at.

He places a kiss above your pussy, into the soft hair, smirking up at you and kneeling between your spread thighs, “I know. I’ll go slow.”

“Don’t want you to go slow,” you mumble, watching his eyes darken a bit.

“Don’t say that to me. Y’don’t know what you’re saying.” 

You don’t reply, smiling to yourself. He is big – very big – you remind yourself, but you still want him to be rough with you if that’s what he needs. You want him to use you. But maybe you should wait before you tell him that.

Logan wraps a hand around his cock, fucking his fist for a few moments before he leans down to rub the tip against your clit. You mewl at the sensation, ready for more.

“You sure?” he asks, head already beginning to push in.

“Yeah,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold him close. Logan pushes himself halfway in, both of you moaning with pleasure. The stretch already stings, but you tell him you want more.

“So fucking tight for me, baby,” he grunts as he fucks into you deeper, bottoming out with an almost pathetic groan that makes you smile through the slight pain.

“You’re so big,” you moan, leaning your head back against his pillow.

“I know. Think you can take me?” he kisses up the side of your neck, hand sneaking between your bodies to play with your clit.

“Yes–yeah. I want you.”

“That’s a good kitty,” he whispers from above you, beginning to thrust into you slowly, rocking your whole body with his movement. He feels so big in your pussy, but you like the feeling of being stretched out for him. Even if it hurts, you want him to take what he needs.

It helps when your claws come out, scratching at his back to relieve some of the pain.

“Hurt me, baby. Hurt me as much as you need,” he moans into your ear, fucking into you at a bit of a rougher pace. You sink your claws into him, feeling how you draw tiny drops of blood from his big muscles, dragging your fingertips down his shoulders and over his big arms.

“That’s it, baby,” Logan moans against your mouth, kissing you sloppily, thrusts becoming messy, and you grunt in a mix of pain and pleasure that feels so good. He looks down at you, hips getting slower as he takes your tail in his hand.

“Does your tail hurt like this?” he asks, tugging at it lightly. You’re lying on your tail, technically, but it doesn’t hurt. You shake your head. Still, Logan tips your hips to the side a bit, lifting your thigh to fuck you sideways. But this way you can’t reach his back, and you don’t like not being able to squeeze around him with your thighs.

“Wanna sit on top,” you say, and he pulls away to look at you, unable to stop himself from smiling.

“You can’t take me like that yet, bub. Trust me.”

“M-mh,” you mumble, and with a bite to his lip Logan lifts his hands in defeat, slipping out of you and obeying you. He flips you around so that he’s on his back and you straddle him.

His dick looks bigger when you hold it in your hand, raising yourself to your knees to line him up with your pussy. Logan chuckles and you smile too, but you want to show him that you can take him.

You struggle to even get the angle right because you have to sit up so high, but when you’ve got the tip in your pussy, you just slowly lower yourself, hands leaning on Logan’s chest.

“Go slow, baby,” Logan says, suddenly gentle, seeing the pain on your features as he goes deeper. His fingers draw circles on your hips and on your ass, and he almost cums from the way you moan when he won’t fit in all the way in this position. He reaches out to rub at your fluffy ears, loving the way you lean into his touch, purring again.

“Sounds so pretty when you do that.” He’s less and less sure about the thing he said earlier, telling you not to get used to him, about you fucking other men. He’s not sure it’ll be relevant after all. He’s going to keep you all to himself.

“Hurts so bad,” you moan, pussy straining around him.

“Then stop. Y’don’t have to,” Logan coos, pulling you up by your hips but you take his hands off you.

“Don’t wanna stop. Wanna cum.” You grind your hips against Logan’s, his cock pulsing inside you. It drives him fucking crazy seeing you struggling to take him, fucking yourself stupid in his lap nevertheless.

He rubs his thumb over your clit, in circles to match the movement of your hips on him.

“Lo–Logan,” you moan, hands back on his chest as you start to fuck him again, your claws coming out against his chest to scratch him there, and he revels in it.

“Yeah, that’s it, kitty. Don’t stop,” he keeps playing with your clit, starting to become breathless himself as your pussy squeezes around his cock.

You cum with a whimper so animalistic it sets off his own orgasm, pulsing his cum into your pussy that clenches around him hard. Logan’s hand on your hip helps you grind on him as the pleasure spreads through your body and he’s grabbing at your flesh.

You come down from your highs together, a fucked out smile on your lips as you bend down to kiss Logan. He pulls you off his cock, not wanting you to hurt any more, but from the way you kiss him back lazily, hurt is the last thing you are.

“Did such a good job for me,” Logan tells you, holding onto your face, “Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You shake your head, “Didn’t mind it,” and you kiss him again, liking the way he devours you like a hungry animal every time his lips are on you.

As he’s kissing you fervently, with tongue and spit, you let your fangs come out, nicking his bottom lip carefully. He hisses into your mouth, and you draw two drops of blood – one for each tooth – before the wounds heal shut.

Logan grins, “Feisty kitty,” he squeezes you at the waist, making you giggle.

“See, you like pain and I like it too.”

Logan hums at your words, hand moving up to play with one of your ears. You move to lie down on your side, Logan turning to face you. You watch him.

“Can I stay?” you ask shyly, quietly, and he doesn’t understand the man he was only an hour ago. How could he not want you entirely? He hates that he made you feel unsure for even a second.

“Of course, bub. You’re staying with me from now on.” You purr at his words, cuddling into him. 

He puts his arm around you, holding you close as you begin to lick all over his face. He giggles as you make your way over his beard and his neck too, grooming him like a kitty. Your claws hook into the muscle of his arm and, as much as he enjoyed it during sex, this is definitely something he still has to get used to, gasping at the contact. The way you purr louder makes it more than worth it.

You’re pawing at his hair, smoothing it back into place from where you’ve messed it up. Logan closes his eyes from how good it feels. Suddenly, he hears you giggle.

“Your hair is kind of like kitty ears,” you grin.

He deadpans. “Don’t ever say that again.”

Your fluffy tail bounces up and sways a bit as you giggle mischievously. You pretend to zip your mouth shut but he knows he’s never hearing the end of that. Maybe he doesn’t even mind it coming from you.

“So, did you escape just to come see me or d’you get permission?” He asks, remembering how you’re probably not even supposed to be here. 

You panic for a second, beginning to sit up, but Logan holds you down, “I won’t tell anyone you’re here, kitty. Told you you’re staying with me. Would just be good to know if you’re making me break the rules.”

The way you smile at him sheepishly tells him everything he needs to know. He presses another kiss to your adorable face.

“You coulda told them you’re leaving. I’m sure they’ll be looking for you, bub,” he tells you. You turn around so that you’re spooning, with him at your back and your tail wrapped around his thigh.

“Hmpfh, don’t care,” you begin to purr, closing your eyes, “Just wanna be with my daddy.”

Logan wants the same. 

You don’t stop purring as you drift off to sleep, held safely in Logan’s arms.

-

P.S. Logan thinks that hot readers leave a reblog and a comment and let the writer know what they enjoyed about the fic <333 🫣🤭

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Headcanon that when extremely sleep deprived Dick tells Jason wayyy too much traumatizing lore about his life.

Bc he kinda forgets that Jay wasn’t there for it

Since he was hallucinating the bastard (yeah I know in canon it was obviously a hallucination idk)

So Dick will accidentally just lore dump about the most insane shit bc well Jason was there (no he wasn’t)

And when he’s offensively sleep deprived it goes the other direction and he forgets that Jason ever came back.

So he’s just in the corner watching what he believes to be a hallucination of his baby brother except for some reason his mind decided he needed to see what Jay would look like grown up.

Dick on day 7 without sleep watching Jason beat up a gang member: maybe my therapist was right

Jason: the fuck are you-?

Dick: Maybe I DO need to go back on anti-psychotics

————————————————————

Dick alone in his apartment with a bag of shredded cheese and a plain cereal box in one hand ready to have what is probably the Most depressing depression meal: hmmm hmmmm hmmm

Jason who climbed through a window while dick was distracted: Sup

Dick: ah look a wild hallucinajason appears

Jason: what the fuck did you the call me

Dick patting Jason’s cheek: oh they’re somatosensory now too! That’s new! Anyway bye bye baby bird

Jason watching his brother leave the kitchen: ….okay what the fuck?

——————————————

Dick only on 3 days without sleep: this reminds of the time I was about the sign my marriage license!

Jason: two things 1) why does a shootout remind you of being at the courthouse 2) WHEN THE FUCK DID YOU GET MARRIED

Dick: I didn’t get married?

Jason: then what the hell are you talking about

Dick: idk the last time I tried too get married way more guns than necessary were involved and you know when I tired to get married Jay you were there!

Jason “was dead at the time” Todd: what the fuck are you talking about?

Dick: yeah! I mean you really hated her so you told me I’d be a disappointment if I married her and then disappeared. Which like granted I also didn’t wanna marry her but that was harsh

Jason: ….. I? I don’t even know what the appropriate response is? Here

Dick: an apology would be nice?

Jason who is now 50% sure his ghost haunted his brother 25% sure his brother was hallucinating and like 25% sure Bruce used his image as a tool to get dick to do what he wanted: ……. You know what… nah she was a bitch and I’m glad you didn’t marry her

Dick: I mean.. same

—————————————

Dick has a caffeine IV Grayson : this brings me back to the good old days

Jason dodging an alien: ??? When you were Robin ? How?

Dick: no! When Donna died and I didn’t have to worry about saying alive so I could do insane shit like infiltrating an alien spaceship with no protective gear

Jason:??????????????? Dick what the fuck

Dick: OH come on??? You were there! Very quippy 10/10 would be haunted by again

Jason:…. I- yeah you know what I’m not touching this one



[zorostitties]

Aurora; 11 (m)

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 9k

A/N: HELLO WORLD!!! This one came a bit late but here it is!! Honestly this chapter was the trickiest to write bc I didn't know how to still make most of it entertaining. I'm proud of myself for DESTROYING this writer's block with my own hands, though. 😈 With this chapter, we reach the mid point of our story!! Not literally, though, because I don't know how many chapters we still have ahead of us lol BUT we're def in the middle. ANYWAY! Feedback as usual is VERY MUCH appreciated! If you've been reading this fic up until now and never commented, please send me a hi or anything. I'll love to know how you like the story. DON'T BE SHY AROUND ME BABYGIRL 😈 Enjoy <3

⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist

Caution was the rule that dominated Olrox’s life.

He had learned from a young age that in order to survive in this world, you have to be cautious about everything. The people you let into your life, your enemies, the alliances you make; before speaking, you should listen. Before forming an opinion, you should take as much information as you could find. Before taking action, you should think about it – plan it, revise it, think about it again and again and again.

Caution was what kept Olrox alive while his city and his people burned. Caution was the reason why Olrox was still alive to this day despite all odds being against him. And caution was what told him he had to leave the Old World soon.

Olrox knew when a war was lost; he had tried to turn the tables in the past, and it led to nothing but pain. He knew better now. Sometimes, retreating is the best course of action.

Erzsebet had retrieved the second half of Sekhmet’s soul. Olrox tried to intervene by giving Alucard an advantage in the run after the mummy; the son of Dracula had failed to take it. There was nothing he could do anymore, not now that Europe became Sekhmet’s territory.

Olrox had to be cautious for the sake of his inner voice – even more than usual. Erzsebet was still no goddess, but she had managed to summon the soul of one back to the land of the living… and that was a clear commandment for him to stay away.

Which is why Olrox was shocked at himself when he left the docks and flew towards Paris.

Every instinct in him was yelling at him to turn back. Her stench was worse than ever; he could feel her power from miles and miles away. It made the tiny hairs in his arms raise, made him feel genuine repulse. He shouldn’t be anywhere near her. That wasn’t fear or cowardice as he knew Mizrak had assumed. That wasn’t even just his caution.

No… that was something that ran deep within Olrox – in his body, his spirit and his soul.

It was a law he shouldn’t break.

Preys shouldn’t sleep around predators. Earth shouldn’t stop spinning. Rain shouldn’t go upwards. Fish shouldn’t be out of the water.

A god shouldn’t be anywhere near another god.

That is why Olrox had been so cautious ever since the night Tenochtitlan burned. He had to take care for something other than his life – his inner voice.

But Olrox was marching towards Paris anyway, and even though he knew the rules better than anyone else, he couldn’t stop himself.

Perhaps because a part of him never got to terms with what happened to his people, all these centuries ago. Perhaps because, although he promised himself to never join any cause that wouldn’t benefit him only, he never got over the fact that he had failed more than once to fight for justice.

Or perhaps because Mizrak’s saddened brown eyes didn’t leave his mind for a second.

And spend a lifetime running from her? No.

This was Mizrak’s response to Olrox’s invite to come to the New World with him. Not because he didn’t want to go; but because he didn’t want to live a life hiding from Erzsebet.

And perhaps that was enough of a reason for Olrox to want to defeat her.

The closer he got to Paris, the more his heart tightened. He felt his limbs get weaker, a strange ill sensation set in his guts. He’d never felt the presence of another god so strongly like that; before, Erzsebet was just feeding off Sekhmet’s power. Now that she had settled another half of the deity’s soul, things got entirely different. Much more complicated.

The greater force overwhelms the weakest. Erzsebet-Sekhmet had claimed territory over the entirety of Paris, even if she did it unknowingly. It made things even harder to navigate.

But Olrox remembered that Mizrak, a simple human being, was somewhere down there fighting, so he shouldn’t make excuses.

Even so – he had to be careful. Facing Erzsebet directly would be unwise.

Then, he decided to focus on Drolta.

He never liked her. She reminded him of the Spanish Christians too much. Her obsession disgusted him. But he had to admit that she was strong – much more now in this horrendous form.

So Olrox wouldn’t be able to face her in his usual form, too.

The transformation was longer than he expected, took too much energy from him; even in this form, he wouldn’t be able to give his all. Sekhmet’s presence overwhelmed him. But Olrox pushed forward anyway until he no longer resembled a man, but a giant, glorious winged snake in the night sky.

He came in time to save Alucard from a certain strike.

Purple lightnings of pure power slashed the sky.

Drolta knew what she was dealing with immediately.

She groaned, wrapping her arm around her own stomach for a moment – the exact spot where the power jolt hit her – before taking flight once again. She narrowed her eyes and took a defensive position.

“Quetzalcoatl,” She hissed in a mix of surprise, anger and pain. “I should’ve known you were just a snake!”

Olrox attacked again.

The sky got brightened up in eerie purple flashes as their battle unraveled above the ceilings of Paris. Drolta was strong – much stronger than a regular night creature, but her previous fight with Alucard had taken a toll on her. Meanwhile, Olrox was fighting with half of his usual strength; being in Sekhmet’s territory weakened him deeply. In fact, transmuting into the Quetzalcoatl form was something he shouldn’t even be doing, but fighting in his normal form against her would be suicide.

The scales were evenly balanced in this fight.

Drolta slashed his body with her sharp nails – so strong that they could pierce even through his usually impenetrable scale armor, making him snarl in pain. Olrox sent more and more lightnings in her direction. She flew in zigzag, trying to avoid being hit, and every time one missed, it destroyed entire chunks of buildings; any time it hit, Drolta yelled in agony.

Olrox understood Alucard’s strategy: by keeping Erzsebet and Drolta apart, they’d have double chances to defeat them. He knew some magicians – including the Belmont boy – were somewhere down there fighting Sekhmet’s vessel. All he had to do was keep her busy while they worked, even though Olrox didn’t know how much longer he could take…

His inner voice was unsettled; he could feel His discomfort, how it tugged at the corners of his consciousness, making him lose focus for a second. Back away, He ordered Olrox; Go away. Take distance. You must not be near them. You must not.

Yes, Olrox knew that; he knew what he was doing was foolish and Olrox didn’t like to be foolish–

Wait.

Near... them?

But Sekhmet was the only deity there–

His eyes passed rapidly by the city’s cathedral, meters and meters away from where he was. There… there was a figure laid in front of its central doors.

And at that moment, the world stopped.

Nothing else mattered. His inner voice. Drolta or Erzsebet or Sekhmet. His caution.

None of that mattered anymore because it was Mizrak and he was bleeding to death.

A desperate snarl erupted from his throat as Olrox flew in his direction, leaving an injured and tired Drolta behind. He crossed the streets at an unnerving pace, way too fast for a creature so big, making humans down there gasp and run, not knowing if this was another enemy.

Olrox didn’t care about any of them. He got close to the ground, his dragon form dissolving in a black cloud until what resurfaced was a desperate man running towards Notre Dame.

As soon as he got a good look at Mizrak, his heart dropped.

The black haired monk bled from the stomach – he had been pierced. He was laying on the floor, his fist tightened against the wound; his breathing was shallow, his lips already had a nauseating blue color. Olrox knelt down by his side and immediately took him in his arms. Mizrak was getting cold.

This can’t be happening. It can’t be.

Mizrak, who was nothing but fair and virtuous and kind; Mizrak, who weeped at the death of unknown people and put his life on the line for them, even if he was just a fragile human. Mizrak, who made Olrox remember the best mankind had to offer.

And he was dying.

Olrox ripped some of Mizrak’s cape and pressed it against the wound to stanch the bleeding; he gently tapped his face, called his name a few times. To his relief, Mizrak opened his eyes – but there wasn’t much strength to him. His olive skin was sickeningly pale.

Mizrak looked confused, as if his sight was out of focus. Then, Olrox saw the moment his pupils dilated almost imperceptibly.

“Ol...rox?” He managed to speak somehow – his voice was but a ragged, painful breath.

“Shhh. Don’t speak.” The vampire shushed him softly before, with the utmost care, helping him to sit. Mizrak groaned in pain. Cold fear crept up Olrox’s body; he had already lost way too much blood. Medicine wouldn’t save him, and as far as Olrox knew, there weren’t any healers powerful enough to help in France…

It was then that Olrox realized that the cold he felt had nothing to do with fear.

His eyes widened.

The air smelled of coal and sulfur.

He looked behind his shoulder in time to see the tall shadow approaching.

Olrox brought Mizrak closer to him protectively. The entity grinned at them, trembling in what could be interpreted as excitement. At that moment, Olrox damned that fucking Abbot for the hundredth time for dragging Mizrak into all this.

“Old Man Coyote,” Olrox hissed. “He’s not for you.”

His inner voice got agitated, which surprised Olrox. He has been in the presence of this demon before, and He didn’t show much of a reaction… what had changed?

The shadow laughed mockingly – it was like multiple voices overlapping – before disappearing once again.

He had to take Mizrak out of there as soon as possible.

His original plan was to just teleport both of them out of there, but fuck – Olrox had exhausted himself with Drolta; the little strength he still had was being suppressed by Sekhmet’s presence. Olrox helped the monk get to his feet, putting Mizrak’s arm over his own shoulders. Olrox didn’t know how damaged his organs were, so he had to be delicate. Slowly, Olrox started to walk out of there.

“We’re not far from a safe place,” Olrox explained. “Hold on a little longer.”

Mizrak whimpered in response. His head was hanging low, he panted with difficulty. It just made Olrox feel even more desperate.

Then, out of nowhere, the monk raised his head.

A new emotion clouded his face.

“Olrox…” he called in a weak voice again. The vampire shushed him.

“Save it. Everything will be okay.” He didn’t know if he was trying to convince Mizrak or himself. The monk, however, got more and more agitated.

“No… Olrox… y-you have to…”

“Don’t exhaust yourself.”

Mizrak groaned again – but this time, it sounded more like frustration.

He looked over his shoulder; his eyes widened.

Using the little strength he still had, Mizrak put the entire weight of his body on Olrox’s side – making him lose his balance and stumble closer to the sidewalk.

“What–?” Olrox tried to say.

He had no time.

Mizrak got away from Olrox’s grip in a surprisingly swift movement and pushed him into an alley on their left.

The vampire fell on the cobblestones, completely confused; why did he do that? Did he not want to be saved? Was he disgusted of him–?

Light.

It came out of nowhere. It was blinding. It brightened up the whole sky.

Olrox watched with widened eyes as the avenue he was standing in a second ago was completely engulfed in light. He thought it was an explosion at first, but no boom or shockwave came. He felt his stomach drop, his fingertips shake.

Mizrak stood under the light with closed eyes.

Then, Olrox started to hear the screams.

They came from all directions, screams of the purest agony. Screams of death.

Things slowly made sense in his mind.

Olrox approached the corner of the alley. Hesitantly, he stretched his arm towards that light. His fingertips burned. He immediately flinched away.

That was sunlight, even though the sun itself was still hidden behind the eclipse.

He retreated and gazed at Mizrak in pure shock.

Mizrak… somehow, he knew that was going to happen. At the last minute, he pushed Olrox into that alley; it was between two tall buildings, reigned by shadows. Sunlight wouldn’t reach it from the position it was coming from.

That fragile human was on the verge of death himself, and even so, he saved Olrox’s life.

His heart tightened.

After no more than two minutes, the light diminished. Olrox didn’t care to learn where that came from, who caused it, and why it made his stomach drop like that. All he cared about was taking Mizrak in his arms again before he could fall. All he cared about was bringing Mizrak closer to him, cradling him, caressing his face.

Weakly, the monk put his gloved hand over Olrox’s.

He was visibly in so much pain. Even so, Mizrak’s half lidded eyes were full of determination and… care.

He took a deep, difficult breath before speaking.

“F-Fight.” Mizrak whispered. “For m-me.”

Olrox’s heart tightened even more.

The vampire never expected he’d find someone like this in the Old World. He never expected that this painful sweetness would take control of his actions again, of his sanity, overwhelming everything else – his usual caution, his selfishness, even his inner voice.

Mizrak represented everything Olrox loved about humanity.

So, if this fragile human asked him to fight – he would.

Olrox brought their faces closer to each other’s. He pressed his lips over Mizrak’s softly; his hand caressed the monk’s face gently. It was a chaste kiss – much different from all the kisses filled with passion and heat and anger they had shared. And yet, that simple press of lips ignited fire through Olrox’s soul much more than anything they’d done to each other before.

He could feel that something was happening not far from there. An explosion of red power that made him feel even more ill. That didn’t matter. Olrox just wanted keep closer to Mizrak for a second more.

Finally, he delicately laid Mizrak on the floor and got up. If he wanted to save the monk, he’d have to act fast; each wasted minute could cost Mizrak’s life.

Olrox was weakened. Olrox’s inner voice kept telling him to run away. He ignored all that and marched towards battle once more.

That day, Mizrak would lose his mortal life. And yet – he got something far more precious, far more powerful in return.

That day, Mizrak gained the heart of a god.

Drolta was tired.

Tired of the incompetence around her. Tired of these humans. Tired of waiting. She had waited for over a thousand years to awaken her goddess; century after century, she had roamed the Earth after a suitable vessel. Her only goal was to bring Sekhmet back. Everything she did was to comply with her duty as a High Priestess.

And she was tired of Erzsebet.

She took care of this woman for almost two centuries; fed her with her goddess’ holy blood, trained her, pampered her. Drolta killed thousands for Erzsebet’s sake. Drolta made a pact with a demon for Erzsebet’s sake.

And now that she had finally retrieved Sekhmet’s Ba after centuries of searching, how did Erzsebet repay her?

By being humiliated by a bunch of humans.

Drolta was tired.

So when she finally bit Erzsebet’s neck and sucked her blood, she felt nothing. There was a time when maybe, maybe, Drolta felt some sort of affection for her. Not anymore. Not now that she had ashamed and failed her.

This power belonged to her, after all. It had always belonged to her.

Drolta felt a wave of pure power penetrate her skin, her bones, her muscles, every centimeter of her body. It hurt like she was being pierced by a million needles, like she was being chewed by the biggest crocodiles of the Nile. An animalistic growl erupted from her throat; red energy revolved her, cloistered her, pierced her, clacking the air. The air got hotter than the midday sun in the Sahara. Her leathery skin smoked.

Pure agony was what her body felt; her mind, however, was enlightened – as if such excruciating pain broke the boundaries of consciousness.

So much power. It was as if she could see and hear everything at the same time, but all made sense; she could feel the weight of a spirit much, much higher than her permeate her mind. A spirit filled with anger and hate and blood thirst.

It almost felt like an inner voice, commanding her to attack.

Sekhmet, the Goddess of War; She Who Mauls.

Maniacal laughter escaped past her lips. The Belmont boy, knelt on the floor whilst holding the woman that carried a whisp of Sekhmet’s soul, looked at her with widened eyes. Yes; feel scared, be frightened, for I have returned. She was tired of him, too. Drolta had faced Belmonts in the past and she hated all of them throughout history. It was time for that clan to end.

But most of all – that girl he was holding had to die. Who did she think she was to get anywhere near Sekhmet’s Akh? How dare she disturb her goddess’ soul like that? She didn’t know what Sekhmet needed, what she represented. She had no right to be anywhere near her.

After these two, she’d go after that snake. Drolta never trusted Olrox enough, but she didn’t think he’d have the guts to actually face her… and most of all – she didn’t know what lied within him. You must destroy them, her inner voice growled in a wrathful female tone that did not belong to her.

The son of Dracula was next in line. She was also sick of him. He had killed her once, and she’d have her revenge. Drolta would not give him another chance to escape.

And lastly…

Ruby.

She had to die.

It was all Erzsebet’s incompetence, Drolta knew; all she had to do was keep that girl locked and away from the world, but she obviously failed. Drolta spent so long breaking into her, making her submissive – and it all went to waste in less than a week. Now, things were out of control. Ruby had obliterated most of her army. Ruby was remembering, and she shouldn’t remember anything.

But Erzsebet was dead and Drolta had retrieved Sekhmet’s power, so there was no use in keeping her alive anymore. It was time to fulfill her part on the pact and finally get freed of it.

Yes. Everything was within reach. Everything. There was nothing she couldn’t do; there was nothing she couldn’t achieve; there was no one powerful enough to stop her. I am Sekhmet, Goddess of War, her inner voice growled. And I want my revenge against the humans who have wronged me.

Drolta would be the harbinger of this revenge.

She raised her right arm, ready to slash the Belmont boy with her sharp nails–

And it was stopped midway.

It couldn’t be. Not him again.

Alucard stood between the couple and her, halting her attack with his long sword. That… that half-breed bastard was putting himself in the way again. She couldn’t stand looking at his face anymore, she’d took her time to kill him and she’d make it as painful as possible–

Drolta felt a shiver run down her spine.

A shiver?!

No. That couldn’t be possible… she was the Goddess of War and Revenge. She was more powerful than anyone on Earth. Nothing should be able to make her shiver.

Alucard let a raspy, angry scream. It was the first time he let any sort of extreme reaction in all the times they fought. The air around him became different. Drolta… Drolta could see things she couldn’t before. There was a red aura growing around him as rapidly as flames on hay.

His sclera got red.

And at that moment, Drolta knew why she felt a shiver.

His power and his aura and his eyes made her body remember the most powerful creature who had walked this Earth, the only man who ever made her feel real fear, the only man who ever made her obey.

Drolta shouldn’t have forgotten – but that was the son of Dracula.

He didn’t get turned into a vampire, he was born as one. The Vampire King’s masterpiece; the perfect alchemical aberration.

And Drolta realized with anger that during all of their fights until that moment, Alucard wasn’t giving his all.

She growled back at him and tried to attack with her left arm. Alucard deflected it and pushed her back with his sword. No. No one should be able to push her back. She was… she was stronger than anyone else, wasn’t she?!

Drolta launched herself towards him again – this time, he wouldn’t escape. Alucard’s face was distorted in a scowl of anger now. He pulled his cape to cover his body and teleported in a beam of yellow light – only to appear behind her.

She had time to turn back and see as Alucard summoned a giant ball of pure fire and lava in her direction.

Drolta stopped it with her bare hands, but that thing kept pushing and pushing and pushing with the force of thousands of tons; she grunted with the effort, felt the ground beneath her crack, the air get so hot that it boiled the skin of her palms. No, she wouldn’t be defeated. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t.

Drolta yelled when she finally managed to kick that thing away in the Belmont boy’s direction. Unfortunately, he deflected it somehow.

For the first time, she focused her gaze on him again.

The Belmont boy walked towards her, took his whip in his hands; a serious, stone hard expression covered his features. She could see it, too – the blue aura growing around him, invisible to the human eye. He’d never transpired as much power as in that moment. Shouldn’t he be at least tired after fighting against Erzsebet?

The girl behind him, the one that carried a whisp of Sekhmet’s soul…

Mortals work better when they are in their best feelings.

Love is extremely powerful in magical terms.

Drolta found all that pathetic.

Another maniacal laughter erupted from her throat as both men got ready to fight her: Alucard’s sword embedded in red fire, the Belmont boy’s whip embedded in blue. Pathetic is what both of them were. All of them were pathetic – these humans soldiers, the weak vampires that died in battle, Erzsebet, this disgusting city. They all would soon be trembling under her feet; it’s where every living creature deserved to be. Fear is what would unite this world. Fear would be her crown.

They attacked.

Drolta used her hair tentacles to deflect them. Each tentacle had an extremely sharp blade on their tips; they were able to cut through concrete and cobblestones with ease as they whipped around violently. Perhaps Alucard would be able to heal from such injuries, but the human boy wouldn’t – so she focused mostly on him.

Both men immediately understood her tactic.

They fought in synchronicity as if they were connected somehow, attacking while protecting each other. The Belmont snapped his whip around him, twirled mid air to create a field of protection around his body while pushing her tentacles away; whenever one got too dangerously close, Alucard cut them. Drolta was able to regenerate the tentacles fast with her new powers, but it still burned whenever one of them were able to slash her.

That wasn’t going how she wanted it.

Drolta used her nails to try to cut them, her legs to try to kick them, her tentacles to try to strangle them; they always somehow got away. The Belmont summoned fire and ice and lightning against her, somehow piercing through her thick skin; the red flames of Alucard’s sword burned her and his sheer swordsmanship confused her, forced her to be on her toes the entire time. The vampire made sure to tank her heaviest blows so the Belmont could attack with his magic freely.

Alucard jiggled from side to side in the blink of an eye – so fast that even her sharp senses failed to follow. Drolta couldn’t expect where his next attack would come from; his sword twirled in the air creating arches of death, trying to reach for her neck before falling in the hands of its owner again. He was even faster now compared to their previous fights, even more brutal, his precision heightened to two hundred percent.

Excruciating pain.

Drota widened her eyes. Blood spilled from her right shoulder and hair tentacles.

She was so focused on Alucard that she didn’t see when the Belmont sent a sharp ice shuriken wrapped in electricity her way.

Alucard didn’t give her time to recover.

He pushed her up towards the sky – up, up, up, each push more and more violent; his attacks came from all sides, his sword slashing and piercing her leathery skin, each cut deeper than the other. Alucard’s strikes were so fast and so intense and so disorienting and so painful that Drolta couldn’t help but stop for a moment to try to protect her body with her arms and tentacles; he didn’t give her any opening.

Enough!

Drolta screamed in both anger and pain. She whipped all of her tentacles towards him at the same time, finally managing to push him; Alucard fell many meters away back to the ground, creating a crater where he hit.

She smiled. There’s no way he didn’t get slashed by her tentacles this time–

The whip tangled around her neck.

Drolta didn’t have time to prepare for the kick on her face the Belmont struck, propelled by his fire magic. He kicked again, punched her head, kicked again; Drolta growled, feeling rage fill her more and more. That human scum had the audacity to hit her with his bare hands?!

She clasped her hands together and hammered him down to the ground. The boy hit the cobblestones on his back, blood spilled from his lips. Drolta grinned at his immobile figure; she made her nails grow until they were as long as a blade before flapping her wings and flying down on a beeline towards him. Oh, she’d pierce through his chest. She’d take pleasure in ripping his heart out with him still alive.

Her nails were centimeters away from his body…

And then, she couldn’t feel her left hand anymore.

Drolta had forgotten about the ice shuriken he made earlier.

It cut her entire hand off.

She yelled in agonizing pain and stumbled away, holding the severed arm close to her chest. He… he cut her hand off. That fucking human boy cut her hand off.

Anger as red as the sky above her rose from her heart.

Her body got once again wrapped in energy. Crimson electricity clacked around her; her tentacles moved around frenetically like angry snakes. No. That couldn’t be happening. She had achieved the power she sought for over a thousand years. These two couldn’t be offering her enough of a challenge… that didn’t make sense.

Her inner voice growled.

Will you continue playing around with my power like this?

Drolta was tired.

She turned to face them at the exact moment they would attack together.

Time stopped.

Drolta gazed at both men. They were frozen in the air centimeters away from her. They had painful expressions. She could see them struggling to break away from her spell.

The woman laughed and straightened her posture. She lifted her severed arm. After focusing a bit more energy there, it regenerated in the blink of an eye; bone, muscle, veins, flesh and skin rebuilding a new hand in seconds, much faster than Ruby’s healing. Her inner voice was right. She’d already given these two insects enough time to play around. She’d been fighting with what she knew; using her body and strength. But… that was only the surface of what a goddess could do.

Drolta focused on this new power, letting her heightened consciousness travel through it. The larger spirit that now inhabited her body had an infinite reservoir of power. So, so much power; so much energy. The possibilities of what she could do were infinite. They went much beyond just making her skin thicker, her muscles bigger or her tentacles sharper.

It didn’t matter that her opponents were the son of Dracula and this Belmont. Alucard wasn’t Dracula himself, he only had a fraction of his father’s power. And the Belmont… he was just a human magician.

Her newly grown hand got wrapped in pure energy.

She grinned and pointed her hand towards Alucard.

He had to go first. Not only because she despised him, but because he was hindering her attacks the most, confusing her, getting in the way and acting as a shield for the human boy.

Drolta unleashed a wave of red energy his way.

It blew on his face. Alucard groaned in pain as he was sent flying back meters and meters away, hitting a building on his way – destroying half of it – before hitting the floor the same way he did to her earlier at the Notre Dame.

And then – it was just her and the Belmont boy, frozen in time in front of her.

Drolta chuckled with cruelty again. He didn’t have his vampire shield anymore. That wave of energy would tear him to pieces.

Slowly, she aimed her hand at him.

For every suffering, a wisdom is gained, she thought. Maybe if this fight hadn’t happened, Drolta wouldn’t have realized the true extension of her new powers. For that, she was grateful. A goddess shouldn’t fight like a mortal. Now, she knew how to obliterate this city with a flick of fingers. After the Belmont boy was done – and after she beheaded Alucard; she knew that wasn’t enough to kill him – she would have no enemies powerful enough to face her anymore…

Her thoughts got interrupted by a punch.

Drolta got dizzy for a moment.

What?!

The Belmont boy – he broke away from her freezing spell and landed his fiery fist on her face.

Love is extremely powerful in magical terms.

Drolta growled. She hated him. She hated him. She HATED him! He had to die. He was going to die right now. She raised her hand wrapped in power again to annihilate him – there was no way this human boy would survive her next attack–

The next second – all her power was gone.

That girl the Belmont put his life on the line to protect… she was floating in front of Drolta, holding her wrist with her much smaller hand.

And yet, when she squeezed Drolta’s wrist, she yelled in pain and fell to her knees.

Drolta looked deep within that girl’s eyes. They were golden, her irises were vertical like a feline’s. Her grip was hotter than Alucard’s lava ball; her expression was ferocious like a lioness’.

At that moment, Drolta finally understood.

That girl wasn’t stealing her goddess’ power. That girl… somehow she did what not even Erzsebet was able to do.

She became an avatar.

Drolta wasn’t looking at a human girl. Drolta was looking straight into the eyes of Sekhmet.

She shivered.

A part of Drolta wanted to smile, wanted to bow. Finally… after a thousand years, after uncountable nights of prayers, after sweat and blood and tears dropped, she stood in front of her goddess. The one she always fought for. The one who possessed her utmost loyalty and adoration. The one whom Drolta went to the ends of the world for; the one whom Drolta went as far as making a pact with a demon for her sake.

Drolta had fantasized of this moment many times before… the day she’d finally have Sekhmet walk on Earth again; and, if she died trying, the moment her goddess would meet her with open arms at the duat, after Anubis had weighed her heart as righteous and deserving of eternal rest.

But that was not how Sekhmet was looking at her at that moment.

Her golden eyes were clouded by rage and disapproval.

And, for the first time since her mortal days, Drolta felt shame.

“I am Sekhmet!” Her goddess growled as a golden aura grew around her like flames. “Guardian of the Dawn, Child of the Sun, Mistress of Healing!”

Drolta’s entire body shook in pain.

“I did this for you!” Drolta claimed. “All of this! I did it for you!”

“Made yourself into this unclean thing!” Sekhmet vociferated – and, as she spoke, Drolta realized that her inner voice was repeating the same words in unison; she felt as the soul within her and Sekhmet in front of her connected their consciousnesses into a single one. “Filled my temple with atrocities! Fed my soul to a disgusting walking corpse!”

Tears welled up Drolta’s eyes. Her chin trembled.

“So that you could live again!” She tried again; her goddess had to understand, she had to… “I-I thought it was what you wanted! I thought it was what you wanted!”

“It is time to balance the scales!” Sekhmet declared.

At that moment, reality hit Drolta.

Her beloved goddess. The one she had worshiped and served her entire life, from her mortal days to her vampire days to her reborn form…

Sekhmet was disappointed at her.

No. It was more than that.

Sekhmet despised her.

Tears dripped down Drolta’s cheeks.

“I thought it was what you wanted…” she whispered one last time. Pain much stronger than any physical attack slashed through her soul.

In less than a minute, Drolta’s determination was gone.

Her existence was pointless.

She did not fight as Sekhmet started to pull her power – her souls – back from Drolta’s body. She yelled in pain until her throat ached. She yelled for all the years gone to waste. She yelled as she felt her heart breaking into a million pieces.

Drolta weeped for the only real love she ever had as it turned its back on her, forever.

Alucard hadn’t completely healed the wound in his chest when Annette– Sekhmet intervened in the fight.

He almost sighed in relief when she did. He barely made it out alive of Drolta’s last attack; Richter wouldn’t have stood a chance. He stayed knelt on the floor holding his chest. Surprisingly, her attack made a lot of internal damage, but his skin wasn’t pierced – which didn’t mean he didn’t get hurt or wasn’t in pain.

But that pain could wait for now.

Because Richter was trying to reach Annette’s body as Sekhmet pulled her souls back.

Both of them – Annette and Drolta – were involved in a gigantic golden aura, as bright and as hot as the sun. Her power was jarring, he could feel it with every centimeter of his body. Richter made his way towards Annette with difficulty; he covered his arms with a layer of ice to try to lessen the burns before hugging her from behind.

A part of Alucard – the methodical part – was annoyed that this boy was intervening in the process. That was their only chance of putting Sekhmet’s souls where they belonged: out of anyone’s reach.

But Alucard’s mortal heart spoke much, much louder this time.

Because Richter was just a boy. Much stronger than the average human, carrying the heavy Belmont crest on his back with the responsibilities it possessed, one of the few mortals on Earth who could actually be a threat to a goddess.

But he was still just a boy in the end.

And like all Belmonts, he carried a heart too big, too sincere. It was a burden and a blessing at the same time. His heart made him experience the world in more intense ways than any other human Alucard ever met.

Richter was a Belmont. Like Juste, like his grandfather, his great-grandfather… like Simon. Like Trevor.

And on top of that, Richter was in love – and Annette could die at that moment, be consumed by Sekhmet’s power. This boy with a heart too big wouldn’t know what to do if he lost the one he loved the most.

So Alucard had to step in before he’d do something he would regret.

“Richter. My friend.” He called softly, resting his hand on the boy’s back, right over the Belmont crest.

Richter looked at Alucard with round blue eyes – scared blue eyes. I don’t care if we live in eternal fucking darkness, just leave Annette alone!, are the words that had just left Richter’s mouth. Alucard knew Richter didn’t process the true gravity of these statements, but at the heat of the moment, anything could become true.

He needed someone to be the voice of reason.

Alucard looked at him with empathy and quiet sadness.

“You know that’s not what she’d want.”

Richter gulped.

He tightened his eyes for a moment before finally – hesitantly – letting go of Annette.

Both men stepped back.

The golden aura between Annette and Drolta got stronger, more volatile. Tears of blood dripped down Annette’s eyes; Drolta screamed in pain like a hurt animal. The light got so strong that they had to protect their eyes.

Finally, with a last agonizing yell, that volatile aura exploded.

A shockwave hit them. Annette let go of Drolta’s wrist, each falling in a different direction; Richter rushed to catch her body before she could hit the floor.

Sekhmet’s presence was in this world no more.

Alucard would’ve sighed in relief if Annette weren’t in such a critical condition.

Richter was knelt on the floor while holding the girl in his arms. She was unresponsive. Richter called her over and over again, on the verge of tears; the scene made Alucard feel as if a cold hand gripped his heart.

He stood at some distance to give them space. In moments like this, Alucard wished he’d be fit to summon healing – it was one of the rarest forms of magic in existence. Healing someone else takes an absurd amount of energy… and this form of magic is not part of a vampire’s existence.

So there was nothing he could do at that moment but watch.

Richter was so young... he shouldn’t have to experience this type of loss so soon, especially when he didn’t even have the chance to confess his true (obvious) feelings.

You said you’d be here; make her feel it’s true. That she can always come back to you.

These were the words Alucard told him.

So, with a weak, trembling voice, Richter started his whispered confession.

His blue eyes were drowning in tears, but he still tried to sound firm as he described quietly the moment they first met. It even felt wrong for Alucard to witness this moment of fragility; he’d rather not be there at that moment, but he couldn’t walk away when they weren’t sure if their enemies were really gone. So Alucard chose to stand away from his field of view, but still protectively close. Richter held her gently.

“I can’t imagine the world without you, Annette. Any of it,” his voice was but a hopeful whisper. “Not hearing your voice, not seeing you roll your eyes at me, not waking up to know that whatever happens, somewhere, you are there. Please… don’t leave me. Please.”

Alucard tightened his lips. He felt genuine sadness at the boy’s heartfelt words.

...Something changed.

Annette’s body started to shine. Richter widened his eyes, startled.

But that shine was very brief this time. When it disappeared, Annette was herself again; her usual clothes were back, her hair was short again.

Alucard held his breath in anticipation.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. They were no longer soulless, her pupils weren’t vertical anymore… just her usual brown and round eyes.

“...You smell of burning,” she said in a weak, raspy voice.

Richter gasped. Fear immediately left his gaze, being replaced by utmost relief and joy. He chuckled and sighed. “Y-Yeah, that would be you… you’re like holding burning coals.”

Alucard watched with a small, serene smile while they hugged each other and cried.

He knew that feeling very well. Being so deeply in love with someone that your heart aches for them. Caring so much about someone that being apart brings genuine suffering. Sharing their sadness, their happiness, wanting to support them at every moment, knowing them intimately – and receiving this same intensity back.

Alucard had fallen in love countless times during his life… but it’s been a long time since he let himself feel it to the fullest. He decided to shroud his heart after so much pain, so much longing. At the slightest sign that he was beginning to develop feelings for someone, he’d immediately distance himself. He couldn’t bear going through anything like that anymore.

But at that moment, he realized something.

He’d been running away from pain and longing for so long that he had forgotten how love can be… sweet.

Was… was Alucard ready to feel it at its full intensity one more time?

Would his heart be strong enough to bear this again?

Did he even have the right to feel it, especially considering who this involved? What if the other end was too fragile to take him? Would Alucard take the pain of allowing himself to feel something like this again, only to have it ripped away from him like so many times in the past?

Would it be fair for him and for her?

Alucard didn’t know.

And his thoughts came to a halt when an anguished scream slashed the air.

Drolta.

She held her head, her breathing was irregular… for a second, she looked absolutely lost – almost like a child throwing a tantrum.

Drolta gazed at a confused Annette with pure hatred.

Then – Alucard saw the exact second she realized something.

Her eyes widened. Her back stiffened.

Alucard saw everything that unraveled in the next few seconds in slow motion.

Drolta turned her head to the northeast. At first, the vampire thought she wanted to flee – she was obviously weakened now; she had no power source, no army and no chances of winning. Of course, he would never let her go; his hand already gripped the hilt of the sword.

But then, Alucard saw her expression. The aggressiveness. The hurry in her gaze.

Those were not the eyes of someone planning to run away; they didn’t reflect defeat. That was not the gaze of a desperate woman wanting to go down fighting.

That was the gaze of a woman who had a plan.

And when she extended her giant wings and took flight, Alucard realized.

Notre Dame was at northeast.

He unsheathed his sword and flew.

Alucard hadn’t healed his wound completely; his brusque movement sent jolts of pain through his body. But at that moment, that didn’t matter – nothing else mattered, his mind went completely blank. Because even though Erzsebet was dead and Drolta was weakened and most certainly defeated, she still wanted to retrieve Ruby.

He would never let that happen.

They clashed mid air.

Drolta’s reflexes were slower now. Though she already sensed Alucard behind her, she couldn’t defend herself when he threw a heavy blow against her – sending her straight to the ground again not far from where they stood initially. A crater opened where her body hit, rising a cloud of smoke and debris.

She didn’t even have time to recover. Alucard was already upon her.

Both of them were slower, their limbs heavier, their powers weakened – but none of them wanted to lose. Alucard noticed that by Drolta’s fighting style, she was more worried in brushing him away than actually killing him. Her movements showed urgency. In fact, she looked almost desperate. Alucard was in a hurry, too; he didn’t know if Richter could still fight, considering the amount of blows he took, and Annette didn’t look like she could fight at that moment.

What was her plan? Why did she still want to get to Ruby? Sekhmet had completely vanished, the eclipse was still up in the sky – so what use would Ruby have? That couldn’t be just revenge. Drolta might’ve been defeated, but she would never lash out uselessly like this.

These answers would stay unanswered because Alucard needed to kill her.

He was tired of that woman, of the destruction she had caused, of the pain she inflicted. He’d been tracking her for five years – he needed to finish her right then and right there, he needed to end this chapter of his life. If Drolta staying alive meant Ruby would still be in danger, then there were no questions to be asked. She had to go – and she had to go now.

But Drolta was as determined as him.

She elbowed his chin in a blow that left him dazed; she gripped the hilt the sword and grabbed it from his hands. Then, she kicked his chest–

Right where the internal wound still hadn’t healed.

Alucard lost his senses for a second and fell on his back. He felt the taste of his own blood, his vision got blurred, extreme pain radiated from that spot in his chest to the rest of his body. As if she knew that was where the wound was, Drolta pressed her hoof right there to keep him on the ground. Alucard groaned in pain, trying to push her away–

His eyes widened when he looked up and realized what she was about to do.

Alucard had time to put his forearm in front of his body for some protection before Drolta impaled him with his own sword.

He screamed. The blade pierced through his forearm directly into his shoulder – if Alucard hadn’t moved a few centimeters up, she would’ve pierced his heart. With an angry growl, Drolta hammered the hilt of the sword with her fist with such strength that the blade sank into him, piercing the ground below.

Alucard spat blood. The pain was so extreme that he couldn’t think for a moment. Shit, I need to get up. I need to keep fighting. Get up!

His vision was still blurred when he saw Drolta being whipped from behind.

The woman let another yell of anger and pain before stumbling away from Alucard and turning around; Richter was, somehow, still standing. He had rushed to retrieve his whip which was already soaked in blue flames. His flames were visibly weakened now, showing the true state of his physical condition. Richter’s eyes, however, didn’t looked weakened; he sent a fast worried glimpse towards Alucard before gazing at Drolta with determination.

Alucard could hear the sounds of the fight happening beside him, but he didn’t look; he was too focused in trying to get his sword off him. He gripped it with his right hand and started to push it up. Every centimeter it moved send jolts of more pain throught his body. The internal wound and the wound Drolta had just inflicted hurt, his body was weak, his senses were slow – none of that mattered. He had to get up. He had to get up. Richter wouldn’t be able to fight for much longer. Get the fuck up!

With a last groan of pain, Alucard finally managed to take out the sword, holding it by the blade; it was completely soaked with his own blood. He looked towards Richter’s direction and his stomach dropped.

The Belmont boy was about to get hit with no defense.

“Richter!” Alucard managed to scream…

But a new sound completely engulfed his voice.

A purple lightning slashed the air.

Both Richter and Alucard looked above with shocked expressions as a giant winged snake floated near them.

Olrox hit Drolta on the chest with his electric attack; she screamed in agonizing pain, her whole body had spasms. Alucard didn’t expect that Olrox would come back, especially not to save Richter. The Belmont boy himself seemed shocked, though his eyes had anger and resentment in them.

Alucard took these small moments of distraction to stand up and hold the hilt of his sword again. He’d let himself feel pain and tiredness later.

With his last breath of strength, he ignited his sword in red fire once more.

Richter got the message.

As soon as Olrox’s attack ceased, Richter snapped his whip; it entangled around Drolta’s neck. She was too disoriented to resist. Richter pulled the whip, forcing her to bend on her back.

Alucard jumped in the air.

The sword was ready to come down on her neck.

Unexpectedly, Olrox sent another of his attacks – but this time, he aimed the lightning at Alucard’s blade, wrapping it in purple electricity which mixed with Alucard’s red fire.

Time slowed down once more.

Alucard could see everything with clarity: the air clacking with purple sparks around him. Richter’s blue fire burning Drolta’s neck. The reflection of his red fire on her face. Her widened eyes in an expression Alucard knew very well: the gaze of someone realizing they have nowhere else to go. The gaze of someone finally understanding they are about to die.

With the way Richter forced Drolta to bend, the ruby necklace came to rest directly over her neck. It was time to fullfill the promise Alucard made to Ruby and to himself.

The blade came down on Drolta’s neck.

A sanctified silver sword. The purple magic of a god. The red fire of a dhampir.

Nothing could withstand that.

The ruby stone was shattered to pieces.

Drolta’s thick skin offered no resistance.

And then – an explosion.

The three of them were sent flying back. The explosion was red; it had a strange cold feeling, it smelled of sulfur. Alucard had time to see an incredible amount of energy being released from the jewel when he broke it apart. The destruction of the ruby caused the explosion, which made Alucard realize in shock that that was never a regular necklace.

The explosion rumbled the entire city of Paris.

Then… silence.

Alucard got up with difficulty again. Richter too, a few meters away from him. Olrox’s dragon form floated above them. Drolta’s lifeless body stayed in the middle.

The air seemed lighter. The city was eerily quiet.

Alucard looked up.

The shadow that covered the sun… it was slowly disappearing.

It… it was over.

Alucard gripped the wound on his left shoulder. It still bled. Now, his whole body was in pain, but he still stood – because something else could unravel in front of him.

Richter and Olrox stood face to face. A giant winged greature and a Belmont. Richter’s whip was still ignited.

Alucard watched them with anxiety. He knew what had happened to Richter’s mother… and he also knew that neither him or Richter were in condition to fight anymore.

But Richter closed his eyes for a moment.

“...I will kill you, Olrox. One day.” Finally, the blue flames of his whip went out. “But not today.”

He opened his eyes.

They gave each other a last meaningful gaze before Olrox retreated in a shadow of pitch black smoke.

Alucard almost sighed in relief.

The red color of the sky was slowly being replaced by its original blue. The vampire closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself feel relief. He could hear the sounds of the city again… citizens realizing the eclipse was over… people walking on the streets…

Five years of searching for Sekhmet’s mummy, of planning a strategy against them, of finding ways to defeat their troops…

It was finally over.

Alucard opened his eyes once more. Richter was limping his way towards Annette. He saw Juste and Maria, many meters away from where they were, waking up. It’s a miracle that all of them ended up alive…

But he caught something with the corner of his eye – and it immediately made him freeze.

Alucard whipped his head towards Drolta’s body.

She was still laying there. Beheaded. No signs of life at all.

But the shadows below her were moving.

They were getting thicker. The shadows of the entire square seemed to be getting pulled towards Drolta’s body; they twirled under her like a whirpool of pitch black. Alucard gripped his sword. Richter took his whip again. Annette stumbled back. The temperature seemed to drop at least ten degrees.

The air smelled of coal and sulfur.

A black figure rose from within the shadows. It grinned down at Drolta; something that sounded like mocking laughter hovered in the air.

They watched in shock as the shadows engulfed Drolta’s body – and then, both of them were gone.

You were… confused.

You could hear and see. You knew there was something violent happening somewhere in the city; colorful explosions, shockwaves and earthquakes, thunders and the sounds of destruction. You could hear Henri’s and Charle’s nervous chatter somewhere beside you. And yet – it’s like you weren’t really there. As if your mind and body were disconnected somehow. As if… you couldn’t react to anything.

You felt strangely at peace.

You knew that the sky started to get clear at some point. You heard the boys celebrating behind you. But… you couldn’t really move from that spot on the balcony of the north bell tower. You didn’t want to stand up.

A familiar touch on your back.

“Ruby?”

You turned your head to the side slowly. That was… that was Alucard. Yes. Alucard. You knew him. He had knelt on the ground beside you.

“...Hello.” You heard a voice say from a distance… your voice. You said that.

Alucard had a worried expression in his face. His hair was gloriously disheveled, the strong winds at the top of Notre Dame played with it. The fair skin of his face was… dirty. He was all dirty, in fact.

You knew they were talking about you. “I… I think she’s not okay, Mr. Alucard,” Henri said in a hesitant and worried voice. “She’s not reacting to anything. It’s like she’s on some sort of trance,” Charles completed. Alucard placed his hand over your forehead – why was he doing that again? – his frown deepened. Heavens, he was so beautiful. So, so beautiful. Even with the disheveled hair and all the dirt. You coudn’t do anything but look at him; you didn’t bother when Alucard instructed the boys – “You should take care of the wound on your shoulder, son,” he told Henri. “There are nurses out there. Get medical aid. I’ll take care of her.”

You knew the two boys were walking out of the tower towards the stairs. A part of you wanted to stop them to properly say thank you, but your body didn’t want to move. So you just gazed at Alucard instead.

He held your arm softly. “Ruby, are you listening to me?” he asked in a worried voice.

His eyes widened in surprise when you touched his cheek.

“You’re hurt,” you heard your voice say from afar again.

If you were fully conscious, you’d never be brave enough to touch him like that. But it’s like you weren’t even there, so nothing felt real. You brushed some strands of hair away from his face and cupped his cheek delicately.

“You’re tired,” your voice said again. Your eyes dropped below – and for the first time, you noticed a gash in his jacket, right over his right shoulder… “You’re bleeding.”

Alucard rested his hand over yours, which made you look up again. He had a tiny smile on his lips, though his brows were still slightly furrowed. He gazed at you with… affection. It made your body feel warm on the inside. His hand was bigger than yours. Even through the leather glove, you could feel his warmth.

“I’ll heal anyway. Don’t worry about me.” You knew he was just light-heartedly repeating what you already told him over and over again. “Are you hurt?”

You frowned and looked down again.

“No. But I feel strange.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. I’m… distant. And I’m tired.” You looked at him again. Alucard didn’t move to take your hand away from his face. His own still rested above yours, his thumb caressing your fingers slowly. “You’re hurt.”

“You already said that.” Alucard chuckled lightly before a bit of seriousness covered his expression once more. Finally, he wrapped his hand around yours and took it away from his face; he didn’t let go of it, however, resting both of them over your lap. He looked hesitant before speaking.

“Ruby… Drolta and Erzsebet are dead.”

You stared at him in silence for long seconds.

“Are… they?” Alucard nodded slowly. “Are you sure?”

Alucard hesitated for a second. You saw a glimpse of something you couldn’t understand cross his gaze.

But he nodded again in the end. “Yes. No mistakes this time.”

You lowered your head and… smiled.

Where did that smile come from? Why were you smiling in the first place? You had no idea.

Erzsebet and Drolta are dead.

The mere mention of their names made you feel… closer to your body, somehow. As if things were starting to get real again.

The sun was shining once more. You should’ve understood what that meant. The eclipse had vanished… and so had the Vampire Messiah.

Erzsebet and Drolta are dead. They are dead.

You didn’t know where the tears came from.

They came spontaneously, unannounced. You covered your mouth, trying to swallow a sob; your body was shaking. What were you crying for? Happiness? Relief? Sadness? Grief? Hatred? Pain? You had no idea. But you couldn’t stop, you didn’t know how. When was the last time you let yourself cry freely like that, without trying to be silent, without muffling any sob?

Drolta didn’t like the sound of you crying… so probably never.

But she was dead now.

Maybe if you were in your right mind, you wouldn’t have wrapped your arms around Alucard’s neck, embracing him in a tight hug. Maybe you wouldn’t have hid your face in his shoulder. No, you wouldn’t have the courage. But nothing felt much real at that moment, so you didn’t really care.

Alucard hugged you back immediately, offering no resistance, no hesitance. He kept you close, kept you tight. Tighter than your previous hug. Maybe if you were in your right mind, you would’ve shivered when he hid his face on your neck, too. Maybe your legs would’ve lost all of their strength when you felt his hot breath there, the touch of his soft cheek on your skin. All you could do was cry in a way you never did before.

At some point, you heard your voice stuttering a strangled thank you.

Alucard sighed deeply.

The morning sun kissed you both. The city down there was still in chaos – too many losses, too much damage, too many questions to be answered. You and him were still in he eye of the hurricane. But at that moment, nothing felt too real, so you didn’t care.

Nothing but him felt real. Him, and the fact that those who hurt you were gone from this world definitely. Him, his embrace and the way he warmed you up.

The voice of that unknown woman whispered in your ears once more – and, for some reason, it brought even more tears to your eyes.

...Love doesn’t burn.

Love warms up.

It was over.

[calebrity]

omg I saw your post about frontman!sylus in a squid game au! now the rot is taking over my brain

does sylus have a heartbreaking moment with the reader where he fake dies like the real frontman does in the show? I can imagine it so clearly where reader is devastated that someone she's become so close with is taken from her in one of the last few rounds of the game... until she wins and is escorted to the office where he unmasks and her heart drops in relief that he's alive! but wait... why are you up here, all cleaned up and in a similar uniform to the guards?.. until it finally clicks and the relief morphs into horror...

would love to hear your thoughts!

frontman! sylus

cw. squidgame! au, manipulation, being held hostage, yandere themes, 1.5k

an. nonnie i loooove the way you think!! 😣sorry i was sitting on this but im actually obsessed & just wanted to give it some extra thought bc your idea is 🔥🔥 MWAH sorry its a lil long im insane and sleepy lol :,)

Frontman! Sylus is unreachable to most guards.

With the attention the games require of him and other related matters (communication, keeping the place under wraps, organizing meetings, just to name a few), it’s gonna take a little more than just a red mask to score a conversation with him. He’s worked for. Not worked with. To most, he’s just a deep, mechanical voice who stands tall behind a wall of television screens, and someone in so much power that it’s implicitly understood that he is not to be fucked or toyed with. So all obey him.

He expects nothing but order and blind loyalty and even though it brings a certain monotony he can’t quite shake, he gets exactly what he demands.

Frontman! Sylus is disgustingly wealthy through underhanded means, but he’s oddly classy for someone who holds a mantle earned entirely through blood and violence. This is one big dirty game he oversees, but the contestants know what they’re signing up for, so he can’t really will himself into guilt when they’re all the same— different faces and names but identical minds and hearts. Corrupted. Selfish.

Sylus values a purity that cannot be found within the massive walls of red light green light as players push and step over each other; dalgona, as idiotic sheep use contraband lighters and sweat as a ticket to the next game; mingle, as the more irredeemable of the men yank women from their rooms and lock the door behind them. Sylus also values a purity that does not exist within himself, or not anymore: whatever he had of that is beaten to a pulp as hours pass behind an obsidian mask and he grows colder for it.

Richer, too, so powerful it’s scary— but that’s beside the point.

With every match he witnesses, he loses another scrap of faith he had in humanity. To be fair, he knows he’s no saint, he would never claim to be, but—

But when you come along— a bungling girl who’s landed herself in a debt she can’t hope to climb out of, surprisingly kind to the others but a bit too naive- resourceful, though, enough to inspire the success of several other contestants— his world tilts. A hand reaches through the static of his screen and dares to lift his mask. He sees your pretty face staring agog at the floating piggybank when he closes his eyes: the aquamarine jersey, the white label 109, seared into his conscience and there to stay.

And at first, he’s intrigued more than anything. It’s just curiosity. Maybe a little bit of mean amusement too, okay sure- he’ll admit it’s a whit hard to not chuckle when you cutely plead for the bathroom to a stoic guard(— it’s alright, let 109 in— ) who’s just not hearing you or nearly fall off your bunk amidst a very fitful sleep.

But those feelings that develop within the span of a couple days are nothing too crazy, nothing he can’t manage and process.

For a short time.

You seem a silly, clumsy girl at face value, your trembling hands, clear as day through the monitor, a blatant sign of the fear you do a damn bad job at hiding- yet it’s not enough to cloud your mind. You prevail through the games and pull some unexpected, winning move right when he’s convinced you’ll succumb to stupidity, a mistake (either yours or another’s), or the malicious will of someone you’d looked at as a friend mere moments before the timer started.

You’re clever. Adaptive. He’s reminded of bunnies and how even the smallest, fairest of creatures have the base survival instinct in them; you’ll do what you must to make it out of here.

Your half-baked plan of going along with the flow and later adjusting to it is as unreliable as it is unable to be helped- you don’t have much better options in such an unpredictable environment. It goes surprisingly well, though, and earns both the respect and attention of an otherwise unfeeling frontman.

Well, it goes well up until it doesn’t. It goes well until it’s nighttime and the lights go out and Sylus braces for utter chaos to unloose itself between the bunks— unexpectedly stiff behind his screen as he searches for your figure amidst a collage of thermal shapes. Your ragtag group of misfits (the unwanted: elderly folk, females and the disabled) is attacked and takes an impressive stand, but you’re just a girl at the end of the day, and your foes are more numbered, so much bigger and infinitely more cruel—

Sylus rushes out the viewing room, briskly replacing his ominous, black garb for a teal-blue tracksuit. There’s no questions asked; the guards carry on with their jobs quietly, noting their boss’s strange behavior with a little jerk of their heads but no outward shock is risked beyond that.

They give him a wide berth because the look smoldering in ruby-red eyes is frightening.

Sylus decides right then, in the unfurling havoc, that he’s sure as hell no saint but he can play the part for a few games if it means saving your ass now.

And eventually, when it’s dwindled down to just a few players, he’ll even be a martyr. He’s not entirely sure why he does what he does where your presence is involved, the measures he goes to— all Sylus knows is that he needs to protect you from the fucked-up, dog-eat-dog world (and maybe the consequences of your own financial actions), and maybe endear yourself to him in the process.

…What better way to endear yourself to him than to watch as he consistently puts his life on the line for you throughout the course of the next few games-? snarling in the faces of other hostile, foolish players while you’re cowering behind his broad back, guarding you like a hound as you rest, suggesting his arms as your ulitimate safehouse and whispering shh, sweetie, I won’t let anything get close tonight, so sleep.

To hell with all that— what better way to endear yourself to him than to die in your place?

So he does. Or, you’re all but convinced he does, and that’s all that matters.

In the last round, more or less the grand finale of the whole game, he goes out like a hero, sacrificing himself for you with a few dying words and a gentle command ‘to remain true to yourself’ as you cup his face for as long as you’re allowed before the red-suited figures almost hesitantly step over and drag him away. Sylus knows telling you his name is risky- even making a short cameo in the activities is life-threatening- but he can’t find it in him to regret it when you’re howling it over the speakers, knelt to the ground and ugly-crying as you shake your fists. No doubt you’re blaming yourself, deciding in your heart that it should’ve been you instead of him.

No, it should’ve been everybody else, kitten, and he made damned sure it was.

Sylus is charmed by it, readying himself by the door as a muffled hubbub of boots echo on the other side, committing your each and every kindness to memory. It wounds him, again to his own surprise, to see you so devastated and know he’s the catalyst for it, but a part of him preens when you’re so wrapped up in your own heartbreak over his supposed death that you forget your handsome cash prize entirely.

Unselfish girl. Beautiful girl. His chest puffs with pride. You really are his girl.

And in the end, all of these rotten games were worth it, the time and violence and the better part of his humanity. Even if you don’t quite realize that yet, stumbling through his door with wobbling knees and a ruddy face that quickly warps with a plethora of emotions- confusion, relief, and then a brilliant look of mortification that steals the breath from his lungs- even if it takes time and patience on his end to work you through it. He’ll gently assure that he won’t hurt you, that you’ll never end up as an insignificant player in those childish killing fields again.

He’ll scoop your broken pieces up in his strong arms and tuck you under his chin, to his breast, murmuring sweet nothings as he sends his watchful unit of guards a quiet look to leave the room. And of course they do because they value their heads.

“You did well, Sweetie- but don’t forget about your prize, hm? Tonight, I’ll give you more than you could possibly imagine,” he plants a kiss to your forehead, sickeningly tender, and knuckles aside the hair matted there, damp from all your needless sobbing.

He chuckles lightly, voice velvety soft. “I think some… thanks are in order, don’t you?”

[bnnysweets]

i’m thinking older abby literally not letting R get away with shit, like not eating or not sleeping enough

SAFE HAVEN

older!abby x fem!reader

author’s note: you’re totally right anon! she’s so dominant omg my legs are weak. i didn’t know if u meant abby being mean or comforting reader, so i made both! (mean abby here). i had a lot of fun with this bc i study more than 12 hours a day n i don’t have time for NOTHING. english is not my first language.

warnings: reader has a stressful week, abby is concerned ‘bout her health. reader is called miss, baby, sweet girl.

“i’m so fucking tired.” it was the first thing you said when you arrived to her house, “well, hello to you too, little miss always tired.” she hugged you and helped with your bags, “i’m being serious! this week was like a truck with elephants ran over me.” you groaned when you finally were barefoot and your backpack was on the floor and not on your back, “i know you’re being serious, sweetie, i just think you funny like this, you get so needy.” you laugh a little in disbelief, “yeah i’m in need of propers meals and sleep, you know how long is since i’ve spent a entire day without migraine? yeah like four whole months.” you said and went to sit at the couch, abby still standing in the front door absorbing the things you said, she walked slowly and you could feel that she was angry.

“so are you telling me that you aren’t eating and sleeping appropriately? babe did you lost your damn mind? how the hell you’re gonna focus in your class if you don’t give your body energy?” she said in a calm tone but it was clear her concern and how furious she was, you stayed silent while she continued to walk until she was in front of you “you can’t just don’t eat or eat junk, you need to eat real food and, oh my god, how are you alive without sleeping enough? you know how irresponsible that is?” she was walking back and forth and you were starting to feel guilty, you didn’t know that abby really cared that much about you, “i just don’t have time abby…” you said quietly, “but why you didn’t told me that?! why?! you’re my girlfriend, you’re my priority, your well being one of my biggest concerns.”, “i’m sorry abby.” you said feeling like a deer caught in the headlights, “you don’t own apologies to me, you own to yourself, when you treat yourself like this you degrade yourself, it’s not fair, i know how hard you try to accomplish your goals, and i know how much you study and work, but i need you to take care of yourself, and not because i want to, but because you deserve it.” abby was crouched in front of you, holding your hands, she was not really angry maybe just a bit she was just concerned ‘bout you. “i need you, but above that i need you to be healthy.” she kissed your hands and looked at yours, now, wet eyes, “im just so tired abby, all the time, i always have something to do, and its so much pressure, and it’s from myself, i’m the one making pressure on me, i’m sorry, i’m gonna try to keep a healthier routine, but i just need comfort right now”. after you said that abby hugged you, she scooped you into her lap, you two stayed like this for a bit.

“i’m so proud of you, you know that? i truly am, you’re the most hardworking person i’ve ever met, you deserve to all your wishes come true. i’m proud of you regardless your grades, you’re a lot more than a number.” abby whispered into your ear, your head was on her neck and it had been so many days since you last felt this way, secure, in your safe space. “i love you” you mumbled, “i love you too, sweet girl.” and you slept like that, above her body, hugging her, abby was admiring you, how peaceful you were, and she was thinking what she would cook for you in the next day to guarantee that you wouldn’t be anemic by the end of the year.

[milliesfishes]

Heyyy Millie!

Can we get a coryio as a boy dad fic?

Bc I looooved the girl dad ones smmm

<33

But don’t write it if you are too busy :)

I hope you have a wonderful dayyyy

this took an angsty turn hehe <3 ౨ৎ꣑ৎhaving a baby boy with coriolanus౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x coriolanus snow

Not a single inch of Coriolanus' body was in motion. The blur of the air was thick, choking him from the inside out. For a second, his mind lapsed, and he wasn't sure if he was real.

Then it all came back at once. The shriek of a new life, the mutter of the doctors pushing him out of the way and attending to you, unmoving on the bed. There was a mess of crimson between your limply spread legs, and the color he'd loved so much on you before suddenly had him feeling faint.

He couldn't take his eyes off your face. You were pale as a sheet, looking almost like a stranger even though he could map out every detail of your face without looking. A nurse had the sense to guide him away, placing something wrapped in blankets in his arms, which suddenly became stiff enough to hold it.

"Here," she said softly. "Just sit with him for a minute. It'll be okay."

Coriolanus barely registered what she said, wearily looking down. The face of a squirming baby greeted him, and it hit him all at once. His son. He was a father.

The future was stretched out in front of him, only one sure thing in it. He hated that it wasn't you.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there outside the door, blankly holding his newborn. In Coriolanus' life, there had been very few things that he knew were certain, but he'd thought you being here was one. His success had made him sloppy, his money, reckless. Now you were on death's doorstep because he'd become greedy, wanting more and more of you until it killed you. Had his mother's death taught him nothing? Another mouth to feed wasn't worth losing you.

Mulling it over, the last thing he wanted was to be holding the product of his failure. He looked around desperately, but nobody was in sight. The baby in his arms was still wriggling, cries softening.

The same nurse came out to tell him. It was a close call, but you were stable. You were okay. The relief that poured over his heart lifted some of the weight from his shoulders, and everything he'd considered while imagining a life without you evaporated into thin air.

Passing the baby off to the nurse, he went in to see you straightaway, ignoring the doctor's mention that you wouldn't be conscious for awhile. He needed to see you breathing, receive confirmation that you were alive and you would stay that way.

Time meant nothing when he was at your side. He watched you sleep, stayed at your side while the nurses changed the sheets and produced a fresh nightdress for you. The doctor left behind a list of instructions, and Coriolanus assured him that he'd call if there were any further problems.

He was right there when you woke, blinking sleepily and wincing at the leftover ache of childbirth. You looked around confusedly, and he reached for your hand, squeezing it lightly. "Darling."

"The baby," you muttered, trying to sit up.

Gently, he reached out his arm, guiding you to lay down again. "Easy. He's fine." Coriolanus moved closer, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything?"

You winced as you shifted, eyes widening in joy. "He? We have a baby boy?"

"Yes," he said, frowning as he studied you. "Where does it hurt, sweetheart?"

"I want to see him," you said softly, looking up into his eyes. "I want to see our son."

"Later," he promised, getting up to sit on the side of the bed, fluffing your pillows and using a guiding hand to rest your head there again. "You need to rest."

"Coryo." He paused, reluctantly meeting your gaze again. "I've been resting for the past month. I want to see him."

Looking at you, worn out from birth and pleading with him, he who should be giving you whatever you wanted, there was no way he could deny this request. You deserved to see what you'd nearly lost your life to have.

So, with a sigh, he went to the nursery, where the baby was being supervised by the nurse he'd hired. You'd said it was unnecessary, having wanted to do all of the work yourself, but now he was glad he'd insisted.

Bringing the baby back, Coriolanus deposited him carefully into your arms, watching your eyes light up. Swaying back and forth, you hummed softly, smiling when your baby boy made a happy little noise.

"He's so beautiful," you whispered, tracing a finger down his little face. "Oh..." Finally, you looked up at him again, nearly glowing. "He looks just like you, Coryo."

Nodding, Coriolanus forced a smile, itching to whisk the baby back to the nursery so he could care for you properly. "Sweetheart, it's time for you to rest."

Your brow furrowed when he reached for the bundle in your arms. "He can stay."

Coriolanus breathed out through his nose, biting the inside of his cheek. "The doctor said you need to sleep uninterrupted, darling. You can spend as much time as you want with the baby tomorrow."

Reluctantly, you surrendered at the mention of doctor's orders. When he returned from the nursery again, you were sleepy, trying to keep your eyes open as you rested your head on your pillow.

Stripping himself down for bed, Coriolanus carefully positioned himself under the covers with you, stroking your shoulder when you curled into him, coming to attention when you winced. "What hurts?"

"I'm just a little sore," you managed, sighing when he set a heavy hand on your back, rubbing each tender spot. "I'm okay."

"Shh," he soothed, guiding your head to lay on his chest. "We'll get you some more medicine after you sleep."

He managed to work you into rest, draping you over his chest and thanking deities when you stayed that way. In the morning, he woke before you, using the breathy moments of the early hours to watch you, assure himself that his love was alive and well.

The very second you awoke, you were asking about the baby, pleading with Coriolanus to bring the cradle closer to you. He bent, staying at your side while you held your son, unable to tear your eyes away from him.

His name had been chosen months ago, though neither of you had known the gender. Martius. A good, strong name, you'd both decided. You were whispering it as you held him to your chest, kissing his forehead and rocking him back and forth.

It was sweet. He never could have foreseen how much more he would love you as a mother. With the child you'd carried and nurtured that hadn't been real to him until this moment. Coriolanus found himself winding his arm around you, suddenly wanting to hold you. He forced himself to look down at Martius, stunned to his core once again. You were right. He was the spitting image of Coriolanus. Except for his eyes. The color right now was similar to his own, but the shape was so precisely you.

He kissed the side of your head, every touch still careful. You'd had your medicine, but he wasn't sure if you were still hurting. You leaned back against the pillows, smiling when he pulled the blanket up over your legs. "I'm okay, you know?"

"Yes," he lied, your screaming still echoing between his ears. Trying not to shiver, he smoothed a hand up and down your arm.

It was quiet for a moment, and then you looked up, brow furrowing as you did. "Have you held him yet?"

"I did," he said, leaving out the circumstances. "Do you need a break? I can put him back in the cradle-"

"No," you assured, shaking your head. "I just...you haven't asked to."

"It's fine, sweetheart," Coriolanus promised. "You wanted to hold him."

"But I want you to hold him," you said, sitting up and moving to give him the baby. He shook his head, and you frowned, searching his eyes. "What's the matter?"

The way you were looking at him made him feel like you already knew. Still, he tried to maintain the mask that had never worked once with you. "Everything's fine, I promise."

"Coryo." He almost melted. Your eyes were wide, and he felt as though he could fall headfirst into them. If Martius' eyes ended up being the same color as yours, he was in for it.

His shoulders slumped. He kept his eyes on your shoulder. "When they made me leave the room, they gave him to me."

"Oh," you said softly. He dared to look at your face. You reached out, squeezing his wrist, and he wanted to hide in your shelter. "Coryo." The repetition of his name was softened now. "I'm here. I'm okay."

"You were dying," he countered, shaking his head. "It was my fault. And he..." It was something he could never admit out loud. But you knew instantly, your grip on his wrist moving to his cheek. He leaned into your touch, letting the mask slip down.

"This is not your fault." You were looking into his eyes, shaking your head just slightly. "Coryo he's perfect. I would do it all over again."

"I couldn't lose you," he breathed, reaching both hands up to hold your face. His thumbs found your cheeks, moving up and down. "Sweetheart I couldn't do it again."

You breathed out, quieting for just a moment. Then you shifted Martius in your arms. "I want you to hold him, Coriolanus. Please."

There wasn't any way he could have said no. Not when he'd let this piece of himself slip, revealing a memory he knew he was ashamed of. The wound of almost losing you was fresh, and he'd tried to cover it before you could see.

He silently held out his arms, and you slid Martius into them. Coriolanus was surprised to find his arms knew exactly what to do. For a moment he was worried the baby would cry, but he only cooed, shifting comfortably against him.

It was like a sunrise. At first a flicker, and then a light rising from within. It was real to him in this moment, in the quiet of the room with his healing wife there next to him. You were beaming, cheek to his shoulder as you watched Martius settle. It was as if you were feeling it with him. Your hand was on his elbow by your son's head, and you reached up to kiss his cheek.

There was something constricting his throat as he stared down at his little boy. He tried to find his words again. "I..." Was it an apology on his lips? A declaration, maybe. But of what? Never in his life had he been at such a loss.

You hummed softly, snuggling against his side. "I know." Pressing your lips to his shoulder, you rubbed your fingers over his arm. "I know."

[holyschnitzel]

Still here :)

hey lovelies 👋 I just wanted to let you know that I'm still alive and kicking ^o^

Lately, I've had to take on more shifts at my job than usual, which means I'm not home very often, and many days I'm just tired and drained. Maybe some of you can relate to feeling like you never get enough sleep and being stuck in zombie mode all the time - that's exactly how I feel 😅

Sometimes I have the opportunity to work on BC when I'm alone at work, but if a coworker is around, I can't do that. I know I don't have to explain this to you, but now you know what's going on with me and why progress is so slow. And I do like to take breaks from social media from time to time, so pls don't worry if I suddenly disappear 🙂 Otherwise, everything is okay with me, and I really hope you're all doing well <3

However, I'm optimistic that I can show you the next sneak peek in June, and Damon's route should be finished by July at the latest. After that, I'll work on DG and give Blastic the green light for the next drawings. That's the plan so far ^^

We thank you so much for your continued patience, support, ratings, feedback, and all the awesome fan art/ fanfics /other fan work you've created. You're awesome and we love you very much <3

PS: Please give Blastic all the love and hugs, she needs it right now 💖💖💖

[locomoqo]

I'm going to pass out I swear if you make a daddy's girl one with Sam and Taesoo.

Idk I feel like they're a girl dad vibe? Love your work please keep it up🥹

a tiny light

ft. Samuel Seo, Taesoo Ma, & Kwak Jichang

details: pure fluff, just them being girl dads

A/N: rawr i added in bbg jichang bc i miss him and why not

ᯓ★—SAMUEL

Samuel’s day was going smoothly—well, as smoothly as life goes with a baby. He had his little girl in one arm, her tiny fingers wrapped around his shirt, and sleep still tugging at his consciousness as he poured himself a much-needed cup of coffee. He wasn’t watching his movement, his mind drifting in the fog of early morning, and as he put the carafe back, his hand jerked slightly, spilling coffee over the edge of the cup. Hot liquid pooled on the countertop, nearly spilling onto his hand.

“Ah, shi—” he muttered, catching himself mid-word, his eyes darting to his daughter immediately. She looked up at him, her big eyes widening with an innocent curiosity that felt all too judgmental.

He cringed, his mind racing to backtrack. “Shoot—I mean, shoot,” he corrected himself. But his daughter kept staring, her tiny brow furrowing as though trying to process whatever strange new sound he had just made.

“Uh-oh,” he said instead, adopting a lighter tone, hoping to distract her. “Daddy made a mess, didn’t he?” His daughter’s lips curved in a small, toothless grin, and she made a babbling sound, as if trying to mimic him.

“Oh, great,” he groaned under his breath. “Next thing I know, you’ll be saying ‘uh-oh’ every time I spill something.” She let out a little squeal, her small hands flapping with excitement, and he couldn’t help but chuckle again, his frustration melting away as he gently bounced her in his arm.

“Alright, alright,” he murmured, grabbing a paper towel and dabbing at the coffee mess with one hand while holding her securely with the other. “Daddy’s a klutz today, huh?” he whispered to her, brushing a light kiss on her forehead.

She giggled, her tiny hand reaching up to pat his cheek in a way that melted his heart, her curiosity as pure as ever. He took a deep breath, looking at her with a newfound sense of purpose. “Guess daddy’s gotta watch his language.”

ᯓ★—TAESOO

Taesoo had the bright idea of going camping, you had some doubts about it considering all the wild animals that ran around the mountain he owned but he assured you that you would be fine. So you decided to agree to the idea, even your daughter was excited at the mention of going camping and staying under the stars—or maybe she only became excited because her father talked to her about the trip in a positive tone while raising her up in his arms.

“You sure you two’ll be fine out here?”

“Yes, you go on ahead we’ll follow.” 

You stare at him for a moment before slowly nodding and pressing a kiss to his cheek and on top of your daughter’s head, deciding to head into the tent first.

Taesoo sat on a log near the crackling fire, the cool mountain air brushing against him as he gazed out over the darkened forest. His little girl was nestled in his lap, bundled tightly in a thick blanket, her small face peeking out with heavy-lidded eyes as she fought to stay awake. Her tiny fingers clung to the edge of his jacket, as if she knew she was in the safest place she could be.

"Getting tired already?" he murmured, his rough hand smoothing over her soft curls as they peeked out from the blanket. She gave a little babble, her eyes struggling to stay open, and Taesoo chuckled quietly, watching her surrender to the peace around them.

“Peaceful out here, isn’t it?” he said, voice soft but firm. His gaze traveled over the quiet landscape, the place that had always been his sanctuary. But now, with her here, it was different—deeper somehow, like the mountain itself was more alive with her small presence.

"Out here, there’s nothing to worry about," he said quietly, looking down at her as her little fingers loosened their grip on his jacket. "No noise, no trouble... just you and me." She yawned, her eyes closing slowly as if his words had wrapped around her like the warmth of the fire.

For a moment, he just watched her sleep, feeling a rare, unguarded softness settle over him. He pulled the blanket closer around her, keeping her shielded from the cold, and he murmured quietly, “You’re safe here. I’ll keep you safe.” His words were strong, carrying a promise as steady as the mountains themselves.

With his daughter fast asleep, Taesoo leaned back, letting the silence of the wilderness surround them both, his protective gaze never leaving her small, peaceful face.

ᯓ★—JICHANG

Jichang sat comfortably in his armchair, his months-old daughter nestled in his lap, her tiny hands gripping his fingers with a surprisingly firm grasp. In his other hand, he held a small storybook, one he hadn’t expected he’d ever be reading aloud to someone. But as he looked down at his baby girl’s wide eyes, her curious gaze fixed on him with a sparkle of pure fascination, he felt an unmistakable warmth fill his chest.

“All right, honey,” he began in a voice softer than anyone had likely ever heard from him, “let’s see what happens next.” He turned the page with care, his thumb brushing over the corner so as not to lose her focus.

As he read the next few lines, he watched her tiny mouth open and close, babbling nonsense syllables in perfect synchronization with his words. Her face scrunched with enthusiasm every time he spoke, as though she completely understood the story unfolding and wanted to contribute her thoughts.

“A brave knight sets off to save the day…” he read, giving a tiny smile as he glanced down at her. She cooed in response, her little fists waving in the air, clearly very invested in this journey the knight was taking.

She kicked her legs as if she were encouraging the knight herself. “Maybe one day you’ll be as brave as him,” he whispered to her, feeling an odd twinge of pride, even though she probably wouldn’t remember this moment. 

He continued reading, his voice deep and steady, and with every new twist in the story, she let out another excited coo, her little noises growing louder as she listened. When the knight faced the “ferocious dragon” she let out an emphatic babble, her tiny voice full of what he could only interpret as courage and determination.

Jichang chuckled, shifting her slightly to make sure she was comfortable. “A fierce one, aren’t you? Maybe you’ll be the one saving people someday.” He watched as she reached her little hand toward the book as if to turn the page herself, and his heart softened at the sight.

“Just wait until you’re old enough to read this on your own,” he whispered, brushing his thumb gently over her small, chubby hand. “We’ll go on so many adventures together, you and me.”

She responded with a squeal, her wide eyes seeming to absorb every word, and he couldn’t help but grin. It didn’t matter if she couldn’t quite understand. This was their time, their little world, and he would savor every second.

[golbrocklovely]

only a dream // sam and colby

A/N: i haven't written a fic since october of 2024..... so i might be just a twinge rusty lol but hopefully you enjoy this one. at least i'm coming back to you with some smut. also fun fact, this actually came to me in a dream, and i just had to write it bc it was too good. lmk what you think and hope you enjoy ;)

prompt: you, sam, and colby decide to investigate an old haunted hotel, famous for its fourth floor incubus. you were nervous to sleep over, but knowing sam and colby would be with you made you feel safe. or at least, that's what you thought. || sam and colby x fem!reader

trigger warning: SMUT (but no actual sex), thigh riding, cursing, no solby, talks of demons/incubus so be weary of that if that isn't your thing, haunted location, mentions of: baby, good girl, sexual language, little bit of angst, not a happy ending (but not a bad ending either??)

word count: 3785

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I cannot believe you guys persuaded me to sleep here tonight." I grumbled, throwing my bag down on the bed.

Sam laughed, "Well, at least you don't have the room Colby's staying in. The Haunted Prostitute's room."

"Hey now," Colby interjected, scrunching his face. "Her name is Lady Mandy and she was really cool when we did the Este's Method in her room."

I smirked, side-eyeing Sam, "He's just upset she asked for $20 from him but only $10 from you to stay the night."

Sam deadpanned. "That's because she knows he's easy."

"Or that you're not a good lay." Colby quipped.

Sam looked at him smugly. "I've never had any complaints."

"Can you two stop bickering and tell me what's up with this room..." I glanced around it quickly, "Other than it being old and a bit dusty?"

"This whole floor is known for having a sexual demon on it, an incubus possibly, that likes touching female guests. This room has had multiple female guests say they’ve been touched or scratched." Sam stated.

I sighed, "Awesome. Love that for me."

"Well, we have been on this floor all night, and nothing has happened to you physically. The only thing was those words said to you during the Este’s Method." Sam mentioned.

I shrugged, "Yeah, other than feeling like I had eyes on me. And nothing was said to me in the last EVP session we did either. But still... I don't like being on this floor by myself."

Colby gathered his bag, chiming in. "We are both gonna be upstairs. Just one to two flights away. If you get scared, I'm in room 505 and he's in room 610. You have our spare keys, right?"

I confirmed, "Yep. And you have mine?"

They both nodded. Sam continued, "Okay, let's head up. And remember to set up the time lapse camera once you're in for the night."

I gave a thumbs up lazily. "Gotcha."

Sam and Colby waved goodbye, Colby being the last to leave. "Hey, are you sure you don't mind being here by yourself? If you can't do it, we'll understand."

"No. I'll be okay. But if not, you'll be seeing me." I remarked, only semi-jokingly.

He inhaled. "Okay. I will probably be up for a while, so let me know if you need anything."

"I will. Thanks, Colby." I half-heartedly smiled.

He grinned, his dimples appearing, "Don't mention it."

He closed the door softly. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my beating heart.

I wasn't sure if it was beating because of the anxiety of sleeping in a possibly haunted room or the fact that Colby smiled at me like that.

It was a weird feeling, having a crush on both your friends. I had known them for years, seen them go through deep relationships and random hook ups. And now was the first time we were all single together.

There was never a time that my feelings for them weren’t here; always just under the surface. I pushed them to the side often because I would rather keep our friendship, that I held so close to my heart, alive and well than fuck it up with a relationship. My past dating history showed I wasn't ready for a new one, so pining for them from afar was my only choice. The safest choice.

But this also meant that because I liked them so much, I would do almost anything for them. Including going to haunted locations that I should not be in whatsoever.

I exhaled dramatically, flopping down onto the bed.

All things considered, this room wasn't the worst. Neither was this hotel for that matter.

I had seen the places Sam and Colby had gone to over the years. And there were much scarier places than this. The lore for this hotel was intriguing; especially this apparent incubus that the owner raved about, but nothing ever showed it besides a few choice words during the Estes Method. The lack of activity in this place is why the boys thought about doing time lapse cameras in our rooms to see if anything is captured while we slept. A cool idea, but not one I was looking forward to.

If anything shows up on that camera in the morning, I'm going to drop dead. Or at least shit my pants.

I pulled out my pjs from my suitcase, along with my carrying case of bathroom essentials. I trudged into the bathroom, flipped on the dull fluorescent light, and began to get ready for bed.

It was nerve wracking knowing that we were the only ones in the hotel, minus a stray two or three other guests all the way down on the first floor. The owners of this small hotel gave us an all-access pass during their off season to come in and investigate, which led to us having the whole place basically to ourselves. That was great in a way because it meant no one was going to interrupt our investigation.

But being in a hotel and not seeing anyone around felt like a liminal space. It also didn't help that the rooms we were staying in clearly hadn't had guests in them for months. The owners saved them just for us.

I finished brushing my teeth and washing my face, quickly changing into my clothes for bed; a big shirt and comfy sleep shorts. The room wasn't too cold or hot, thank God, so sleeping in these would be just fine.

I laid in bed for a while, scrolling through every app on my phone. I was nervous to sleep, unsure of what was to happen during the night. I prayed that nothing would, even if that meant Sam and Colby's video would be boring for fans.

Once I could feel sleep creeping up on me, I got out of bed begrudgingly and set up the time lapse camera. I crawled into bed, turned out the light, and stared at the ceiling. In the corner of the room, I could see the tiny red light of the camera, letting me know it was filming me. I turned over onto my side, closed my eyes, and somehow dozed off.

Because of how silent my room was, the littlest bit of noise was going to wake me. However, I didn't imagine I would hear my door opening and closing.

I popped my eyes open, my heart thrumming nervously. My body was cold with fear as I laid frozen.

"Y/N... you awake?" I heard a voice whisper.

I peaked out of the corner of my eye. Two figures stood at the end of my bed. I reached for the light next to me, flicking it on.

It was Sam and Colby, staring at me with semi-worried and tired expressions. I exhaled deeply, shaking my head.

"Holy shit guys. You almost gave me a heart attack!" I whisper-yelled.

"Sorry. We didn't mean to scare you. But... we gotta sleep in here tonight." Sam blurted out, coming around to one side of my bed.

"What why?" I mumbled, putting my head back down on the pillow, annoyed.

"There was some freaky stuff happening in both our rooms. Neither one of us can sleep, so we figured that we would just sleep in here with you." He explained, getting into bed behind me.

"Are the both of you sharing this bed with me?" I questioned sleepily.

"Yeah, if you don't mind." Colby replied, getting in on the other side of me; the boys sandwiching me in.

I yawned, "Whatever. You're lucky it's a king size bed."

Colby turned out the light, placing his head down on the pillow. "Night." He whispered. Sam followed suit, mumbling a 'goodnight'.

I hummed, falling asleep immediately.

I wasn't sure how long I slept, but I felt comfortable and safe squished between Sam and Colby. No dreams came, but when I stirred awake, I didn't feel all that rested. My body was warm, heat radiating from my cheeks and face.

I felt a light fan of air hit my face, a body very close to mine. A leg was tangled in between my own, a knee brushing my lower thigh. Behind me, another body was pressed against me, our backs touching.

"Y/N..." A voice murmured lowly.

I squinted one eye open, my vision adjusting to the darkness of the room; the only light coming from the moon peeking through the curtains. My eyes fluttered, and once they opened fully, I was face-to-face with Colby.

"Colby?" I said groggily. 

"Were you having a nightmare? You were making some... weird noises in your sleep." He asked.

I muttered, "No. Wasn't really dreaming."

He shook his head, moving on, "Even though we didn't get that much evidence, this place does feel odd."

I agreed, "Yeah."

His eyes softened. "How does this room make you feel?"

"Um..." I cleared my throat, waking up a bit more. "Not as bad as the other rooms, I guess."

"That's good. You know, you had me worried there. After the Estes Method." He admitted, moving an inch closer.

I furrowed my brow, "Really? Why?"

"When you and Sam were talking about the words that were coming through, that lined up with sex demon... you looked really scared." Colby informed, his eyes meeting mine.

I was surprised, "I did? Hmm... I mean, it was creepy to hear my own name come through."

"What were the words that concerned you again?" He queried. 

As I went to say them, Sam turned over in his sleep, his arm draping over my hip lazily. He exhaled deeply, a light snore leaving his lips. "It was my name, 'desire', 'tonight', and 'pleasure'."

"That's right. That is creepy." Colby frowned.

I snickered, "Right? No thanks."

He smirked, "Well you don't have to worry. Me and Sam are here to protect you."

I bit my lip, my eyes fluttering at his words. "That's sweet of you to say." 

"We always want to make you happy, just like you make us." He responded, his tone sincere.

"You do. You both mean so much to me. Our friendship is everything to me." I answered candidly.

Colby grew quiet for a moment, the air suddenly feeling thick. I was growing dreary again, the silence lulling me back to sleep.

"Is that why you pretend to not have feelings for us?"

My breath hitched in my throat, my heart skipping a beat. I popped my eyes open, gazing directly into Colby's.

"W-What?" I stammered.

"You like me, and Sam... Don't you?" He raised an eyebrow, leaning towards me.

I shifted under his stare, my body growing hot instantly. My throat felt dry, mouth unable to form words.

Colby continued, "It's okay. You don't have to say anything. We already both know."

My face dropped as I studied his own. He was so calm about this, meanwhile my heart was about ready to burst through my chest. I swallowed hard, exhaling and ignoring Colby’s gaze. “How long have you known… that I-I’ve liked… you?”

"A while. Sam pointed it out to me once and then it just became noticeable. You’re not as slick as you think." He laughed quietly.

My mind was reeling, unable to process everything at once. I became acutely aware of everything around me. Sam was almost draped over me, Colby’s leg was pressed in between my own. I could feel their breaths hitting me simultaneously. My heart banged against my ribs, pulsing in my ears.

"Don’t be so nervous, Y/N," Sam murmured suddenly, his voice low and husky from sleep. "It’s okay if you like us."

I shuttered, "B-but our friendship-"

"Can still exist. Even if you like us." He commented, cutting me off.

"Especially if... we like you too." Colby added.

My eyes flickered to Colby’s face, widening. His expression was almost unreadable. But his words sounded simple, like what he said was fact.

"W-what?" I stuttered, my breath shallow.

"Is it weird if I say I thought you looked beautiful during the investigation? When we were reading the history of this place to the camera, and you were just watching us, it was so hard to keep my eyes off of you." Colby changed the subject, confessing and scooting closer to me in bed, our noses almost touching.

Sam hummed, his voice raising the hairs on my neck. "I liked the way you felt in my arms when you jumped into them when the R.E.M pod went off. I always wanted to protect you."

Colby agreed, "Sometimes we argue with each other when the other gets to touch you too much."

My eyes fluttered, my chest heaving with ragged breaths. “Are you guys joking right now?”

"We would never joke about this. You mean so much to us, Y/N." Sam spoke, quietly but firm.

"Can I kiss you?" Colby asked, pulling my attention back to him. 

"Yes." I replied, shocked by my own voice. The desperation, the breathy word sounding foreign to my own ears. 

Colby smiled, leaning in and kissing me tenderly. It was gentle, but I could feel his passion being held back by him. I breathed in the kiss, a whimper falling from my lips.

Sam’s hand snaked around me, up my chest and cupped my throat. He held me, pulling me away from Colby. “My turn, please.”

My head turned with Sam’s help, our lips locking instantly. He pressed his body closer to mine, his hips pushing against my ass as his tongue teased my mouth.

Colby’s leg moved up, separating my legs apart more, pressing into my core. My wet panties rubbed against my aching center, suddenly making me aware how turned on I had become by their words.

I gasped, ripping my mouth away from Sam. "W-what are you doing?"

"Just trying to make you feel good. Do you want me to stop? Whatever you want, I’ll do." Colby’s eyes narrowed, darkening with lust.

Sam’s mouth connected with my earlobe, nibbling softly. "Tell him what you want."

"Should we do this?" I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to reset my brain. It was hard to think with both of them so close to me. "If we cross this boundary, we can’t go back."

"If it’s what you want, then let’s do it. We just want to make you feel good, baby. Please let us." Colby pleaded lowly, his lips brushing against mine.

"Please, Y/N. We want it just as much as you do. Can you feel that?" Sam whispered, his crotch grinding against my ass lazily. I felt his growing hardness press into me, my mouth falling open in a silent gasp. Colby cupped my wrist, dragging my hand down his abs, stopping just above his bulge. I could feel it, clothed and erect, brushing up against my fingers.

Colby began to pull his leg away, his hold on my hand loosening. I gripped his forearm, shuddering a breath. "Don’t stop."

Colby smirked, a seductive laugh came from Sam. "Good girl."

He nudged his leg back up, his lower thigh pushing against my aching middle. I whined, feeling my body grind down against his thigh.

Sam's voice came out in a husky purr, "That's it baby, ride his thigh. Get yourself nice and wet for us."

"She's already wet. I can feel her through her shorts. She soaked through." Colby chuckled darkly.

"Really, Y/N? We barely did anything to you, and you're already this wet." Sam's lips tickled my ear as he whispered, "You're so desperate, huh?"

I nodded mindlessly, bucking my hips slowly on Colby's thigh. I couldn't believe this was happening. And I couldn't stop myself from enjoying the sensations.

Colby leaned forward, kissing me again. As he did, Sam's mouth found my neck, sucking and biting the sensitive areas. Hands found my breasts, making me moan into the kiss. Colby's tongue snaked in, my body growing hotter by the second.

"Fuck! Keep grinding against me, baby. That feels so good." Sam grunted, his clothed cock pressed firmly against my ass as I moved back and forth on Colby's thigh.

"Touch me, Y/N. Give me some relief, please sweetheart." Colby huffed, grabbing my hand and lowering it to his erection. I cupped him softly, rubbing my hand in circular motions. He sighed, his lips finding mine again.

I melted into the kiss, letting my body go on autopilot. I could feel myself getting closer to an orgasm, each thrust against Colby's thigh causing the pleasure to grow and grow.

Colby let out a guttural breath, pushing his dick harder into my hand. "We should have done this sooner. I can't believe we waited until now."

"I wanted you both for so long." I confessed, whimpering mindlessly.

"And now you can have us. Whenever you want." Sam hissed, his voice dripping with need.

I gasped, my hips bucking faster. I could feel a light layer of sweat form on my skin, my clothes sticking to me.

"You close, Y/N? Are you gonna come for us?" Colby's eyes locked with mine intensely.

I nodded, unable to form words, not trusting my voice.

"We barely touched you and you're gonna come. Imagine how good it will feel when we're inside you..." Sam smirked against my skin, breathing heavy.

I swallowed hard, "F-Fuck, I'm so close."

"Grind harder, baby. Ride my thigh like it's my dick." Colby demanded, his tone depraved.

I whined, panting as I sped up my hips. I gripped onto Sam's arm and Colby's shirt with my hands, needing to steady myself. I locked eyes with Colby, struggling to keep from rolling mine in pleasure.

"That's it, Y/N. Be a good girl for us." Sam leaned in, his lips pressed against my ear, "Come."

Colby narrowed his eyes lustfully, "Do it, baby. Come now."

Ecstasy exploded throughout my body, my orgasm hitting me deeply. I writhed in pleasure, bucking my hips with abandonment. I squeezed my eyes shut, silent cries falling from my mouth. My grip on the boys loosened as the pleasure slowed down. I mewled in a low tone, my body becoming heavy with sleep. My breathing steadied, the afterglow of my orgasm coursing through my body and lulling me unconscious.

When I woke, it was bright outside, the light cascading through the blinds and shining in my room. I was alone, my bed looking almost undisturbed.

I took in my surroundings, confused. A wave of sadness hit me for a moment. Did both of them really leave me in the middle of night? After everything we did last night, I hoped they would have stayed so we could talk.

My eyes widened as the camera came into view. Fuck! I forgot that was on last night. I stumbled out of bed, walking over to it awkwardly. I turned it off, saving the footage to the camera's storage. I waited for it to load back up so I could watch. I wasn't sure how much it would have caught last night, silently hoping the footage was suspiciously gone.

I began watching the footage, speeding through it as quickly as I could. I waited for Sam and Colby to appear, wondering what time they left too. I slowed the film down, my eyes taking in the events that unfolded. The door to my bedroom never opened, but I sat up in bed, turning the light on. I could see myself talking to something, flopping back down asleep. The light turned off on its own, no one getting into bed beside me. In horror I watched as my body twisted in pleasure, mimicking the movements I was making against Sam and Colby last night.

Or... what I thought was Sam and Colby.

That was all a dream. They never came into my room. They never confessed to knowing about my feelings or having feelings for me. They were never here!

The incubus...

I chucked the camera on the bed, a chill running up my spine. I raced over to my phone, texting Sam and Colby to come to my room ASAP.

They arrived a couple minutes later, confused as to my panic. I showed them the footage, watching them stare at the small screen in bewilderment.

"What were you dreaming about? Your body is moving... an awful lot in the video." Colby asked, looking up at me from the camera.

I blush, not sure what to say. Thank God there is no audio on the time lapse cameras. "Um... let's just say it was a NSFW type of dream."

"Oh...." He paused, then cocked his head, "Wait. Do you think it was...?"

"The incubus?" I suggested. Their eyes shifted away from me as I nodded, "...Yeah. At least, it’s  possibility."

Sam gaped down at the camera, "Wow, that's crazy! This footage is unbelievable."

Colby snickered, trying to lighten the mood. "Who did you have sex with in your dream?"

My eyes ignored their gaze, "Uh... no one in particular. Or I-uh, couldn't place the face."

"Even weirder. I'm gonna take this back to my room and save it onto my laptop. I do not want this footage to get corrupted or accidentally deleted." Sam responded, leaving my room quickly with the camera in hand.

Colby stood in my room, studying me as I sat awkwardly on the bed. I bit my lip, doing my best to not meet his stare.

He stepped towards me, "Are you okay? I can't imagine what's going through your head."

I exhaled tiredly, "I've been better. I just can't believe that dream last night wasn't real. It just felt so..."

"Real?" He replied, biting back a cheeky smile.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." I jokingly glared, rolling my eyes at him. But then I sighed, my shoulders slumping. "I should have known better though."

"About what?" He questioned.

"That something like that wouldn't happen." I whispered, unable to hide the disappointment in my voice.

He furrowed his brow, "Something like what? A man having sex with you?"

"The person... people, in question. They wouldn't have sex with me." I commented, standing up.

"Oh? There were multiple? Kinky." He remarked sarcastically.

I continued, "I confessed something to them, and they confessed back. I should have known that would never happen."

"Hey, you never know." Colby cupped my arm gently, "You are an amazing person, and anyone would be lucky to be with you, Y/N. Don't sell yourself short."

"Thank you. I appreciate that." I hugged him tightly, pulling him as close as I could.

"That's what friends are for." He stated, rubbing my back sweetly.

I tried not to wince at his words, nodding my head. "Yep... friends."

[punkitt-is-here]

I really want to get the fucking spooky tv movie, I really do. but it just kinda makes me want to jump off a bridge? like, it felt very "It's too late. Give up. You get one shot and if you blow it you'll never be happy."

I guess it's super cathartic for... trans women who have already transitioned and therefore don't have to think about having a Time Limit on Joy. But I just saw it and was like, "Ohhhh, so we kill ourselves and THEN we get to be happy? I didn't need a movie to say this to me."

it's frustrating bc it IS like. a technically impressive film and I'm happy people enjoyed it, but here I am a couple minutes after the end credits and I'm like... "I don't think I can go to sleep now."

I SAW THE TV GLOW SPOILERS ‼️‼️‼️‼️

Oh I got the completely opposite impression of the ending. The ending seemed like a call to action to me; an example of what keeping yourself in the closet can do to you - so that's why you have to, even if you think it's too late. There's a shot right before the ending scene that basically has the words "it's not too late" written out verbatim on the floor. The scene to me reads like it's telling Owen that things have gotten worse because you didn't take that leap, but there's still that light inside you and now you're faced with the overwhelming evidence that you need to do it to be happy. It's not just one chance and you miss it; circumstances change the further you go, but it's not too late, you HAVE that second chance. The movie stops where it does to hit you in the face with the idea that you'll never be happy hiding from your true self. Whether or not Owen goes through with it, there is still the possibility she can. But she has to be the one to do it.

The "killing yourself" part is also not as literal as I think some take it to be. I read it as something that is presented as so scary it's equivalent to killing yourself, not the literal act. Being buried alive is probably one of the scariest things that can happen to you, and the movie uses that as a metaphor for how terrifying it can be to look inward and realize your true self; something so frightening that the alternative of living a joyless life seems preferable to some. But the point is that you need to do something, even if it is that scary, because decaying as someone that isn't you is even worse.

It's a grim movie, but it's far from hopeless. It just stares at the worst possibility and says "what do you want to do with that? Because you can do something with that."

[pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb]

Zoro x Fem Reader FLUFF JEALOUSLY HUMOR!!! Zoro is always busy that he rarely ever goes on dates or hangs out with S/O. Sure, S/O always treats him like massages or cleans his training room etc, but it doesn’t help that Zoro doesn’t want to be teased. One day, to cope with loneliness, S/O makes a plushie of Zoro to keep her company! She’s more happier and playful afterwards so she barely misses Zoro! Zoro gets some free time one day and gets rejected bc S/O is playing with Chopper and plushie!

Sup Bitches I’m back from the dead. Not really lmao but I am still alive and I finished off this draft today so here.

🍶TW’s : loneliness, Zoro being dumb, swearing, sappy OOC Zoro (fight me).

Your hand jerked away from the needle as you pricked your finger again making this stupid plushie. You loved it, yes, and you knew it would be well-used, but that didn't change the fact that it was a pain in the ass (fingers) to make. You swore under your breath as you sucked the small injury, glaring at the offending needle.

"Whatcha makin?" Usopp sidled beside you, his nose poking into your personal space. You grunted before sighing heavily.

"A plushie."

"A green one?"

"Mmmhmm. Zoro's been...." you trailed off as you tried to come up with a better way of saying that you felt as if he was too busy for you.

"He's been training a lot" Usopp finished for you. You nodded sullenly, shaking out the cramping of your fingers. Usopp hummed in understanding.

"Well for what it's worth, I think it's turning out really well. Maybe you could make plushies of the rest of the crew!" he said with a grin. The compliment made your heart sting with happiness. You hadn't heard one in a while with Zoro so busy, and you returned his grin with a bright one of your own. Determination dulled the ache in your hands as you looked down to your project.

"Why don't you sit outside with us? You can bring that along and enjoy the sun." he offered. You nodded after a second. Spending time around your friends would help the loneliness that had seeped into your bones.

You joined the rest of the crew outdoors, giggling at the way your captain, Usopp, and Chopper all made each other screech through their various antics, joined occasionally by Brook and Franky. Brook tried to ask to see your panties, and even as your foot landed on his skull, a smile curved your lips. You'd forgotten what it was like to spend time with your friends like this, having been so caught up with Zoro being busy.

You made some serious progress on your plushie in between shared jokes and laugher, and by the time you were ready to go to sleep, you were finishing the last stitch by candle light. Zoro was on night watch as usual, leaving you in your shared bedroom by yourself. Again. You sighed, stroking the plushie's face gently like you would your boyfriend's. It felt... comforting- like you could pretend it was his sun kissed skin. Warmth flooded your face as you realized how ridiculous you must have looked. You shook your head, discarding the idea. He had pushed you to this point. Right?

You sighed heavily, the loneliness coming crashing down again as you settled into the cold blankets. You tried to push the thoughts of being alone out of your head as you cuddled the replacement Zoro to your chest.

"Dumbass" you muttered to the plush as you drifted off.

~~~~

You woke up shockingly refreshed. You hadn't slept that well in a while, not since you were starved of your boyfriend's attention. Dragging the plushie with you, you rose and got dressed before stepping out of the room, almost running directly into a solid wall of muscle. Calloused hands grabbed your shoulders as you stumbled to avoid the sudden obstacle.

"Oi. Careful."

Your heart flipped at the sound of his voice and you whipped your gaze up.

"Zoro!" Your eyes brightened, and a grin puffed your cheeks. You slammed yourself into him, hugging him tightly.

His arms wrapped around you lightly before patting your shoulder as a way of asking you to pull back.

"Whatcha got in your hand?"

Your face heated as you shoved the plushie behind your back, having forgot you still had it with you.

"Umm nothing?"

He raised a single brow.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing important?" you tried as he backed you into the room step by step. He kicked the door shut without breaking eye contact.

"If it's nothing important why are you hiding it then?" He smirked at you, and you wanted to smack the knowing curve of his mouth off his face.

"...It's embarrassing" you finally mumble, looking to the side. Faster than you could realize, Zoro's arm sped around your waist and yanked the plush from your hands. You gasped, and reached in vain for his hand. He placed one hand on the top of your head as you struggled, keeping you from jumping up to grab it from him.

"Is this... me?"

You groaned in defeat. There was no hiding it anymore.

"Yeah"

He chucked heartily, ruffling the top of your head.

"Cute. It can never compare to the real thing though" he teased. You scowled playfully and crossed your arms.

"It's only to keep me company when you're so busy!"

Zoro laughed, flopping down on the bed and tossing you the plush.

"Whatever you say. Now go get some breakfast before curlybrows kicks down this door. I need sleep."

You caught the mini-Zoro with a slightly ache in your chest. Not even a 'love you' or a kiss? You plastered on a happy energy as you walked out the door. As soon as the door closed, you looked at the plush in your arms in defeat, giving it a small forehead kiss to make up for the one the real Zoro had neglected. It helped a little, and you could focus on the short but sweet interaction you had with your boyfriend, even if it wasn't everything you wanted, or needed.

You walked into the dining area with the plush still cradled in your arms. The crew seemed excited to see your skill, asking you to make plushies of all of you. You agreed, with the promise that Nami would let you use more money than your usual allowance to buy the necessary materials.

The day passed as usual with the Strawhats. A mid-morning skirmish with a weak band of pirates gave you a little bit of exercise, with the Monster Trio wanting to blow off steam the most. Nami didn't even bother getting up from her lounge chair, flicking through her fashion magazine. Zoro didn't even talk to you during or after the skirmish, only tossing you a small victory smile as he went straight back to training. You sighed, clutching the plush tightly as you curled up under the tree on the deck with a book. You couldn't focus on the words. You were so used to reading aloud to Zoro while he "napped" beside you that it felt strange to not read aloud. Glancing at the rest of the crew, you got up with a faked yawn and wandered back to your room.

You flopped on the bed, disheartened and bored out of your skull. Your gaze fell on the plush, and you hugged it to your chest before kissing the top of its head.

"At least you're always here"

Your eyes fell on the abandoned book on your blanket. You sighed in embarrassment, but knew it would make you feel better to do it. You picked it up, and began to read aloud to mini Zoro. It felt natural, like he was actually there with you. A smile curved your lips slightly at the familiarity. Maybe... just maybe... it would be okay to let yourself believe that he was spending time with you.

Later that day, Zoro came back to the room exhausted, groaning as he hit the bed. You stroked his freshly showered hair and massaged his shoulders and arms as he fell into a slumber without a word. You swallowed down your disappointment and fell asleep beside him, waking to an empty bed.

The next day felt less lonely, and you didn't notice Zoro's absence as much with the plush by your side. When asked about it, you said you wanted to see how the design would wear before beginning the other crewmate's plush's, and it's not like you minded that it was of your boyfriend. Chopper took particular interest in the plushie, finding it adorable. The two of you played games together, Chopper even considering the plushie the third player you had to play for.

Unbeknownst to you, ever since meeting you for that brief moment in the morning after his nightwatch, Zoro had felt something missing from his life. He couldn't quite put a finger on it, but he did know that when he saw you on the deck cuddling that damn plushie like you loved it, a spike of... something... struck him. It should be him that you were showing affection. Well, it was him technically, but it wasn't at the same time. You were acting like that damn stuffed thing was actually him, instead of a thing. He sucked his teeth before beginning his next set of reps. What the hell was he feeling? You still gave him massages at night and... and... hm... When was the last time we actually spent any time together? ...Shit.

"Okay. Now it's your turn!" Chopper proclaimed as he finished his turn. You took the dice and rolled, moving your character a few spaces and drew a card. Familiar heavy footsteps vibrated the wood underneath you as your boyfriend approached you. You purposely ignored him.

"Okay, now mini-Zoro's turn!" you said cheerfully. Chopper made the plush grab the dice in his small hands and roll them one by one, and handed him a card face up so you could both see what hand he had.

"Oi" he called quietly. Chopper looked up, but you didn't move.

"Oh! real Zoro! Are you done training?"

"For today, yeah."

You interrupted their small chat.

"Chopper your turn" you reminded the small reindeer. Chopper made his turn, pulling ahead of your little character on the board with a small cheer.

You laid down two cards, and rolled the dice.

"Wow, smart move!" Chopper said, moving the mini-Zoro to make him "talk". You giggled.

"Why thank you, Zoro" you said, stressing his name. You felt your boyfriend stiffen behind you. You both knew now you were being petty, and you both knew he really did kind of deserve it. With a sigh, he stood. If that's how you were going to play it, he had to figure out how to make it up to you.

He walked away, thinking. How could he make it up to you? You'd been keeping your shared room tidy despite him just tossing his clothes and things on the floor in exhaustion. You'd massage his muscles on particularly hard days, and even snuck bottles of water near his sake when he was training. In return, he'd basically ignored you without explanation, exchange a few words here and there but there wasn't even any physical affection besides that brief hug when you'd literally stumbled into him.

You needed something special for dealing with him these last few weeks. He'd need some help from that damn cook, but for you, he'd do anything. He stalked towards the kitchen, slamming open the door. The blonde hardly flinched, glancing back with a glower.

"What."

"I need food."

"You can fuckin wait for dinner."

Zoro swallowed back an insult he crossed his arms and leaned his elbows on the counter, staying well out of the kitchen.

"'s not for me" he mumbled.

"No? Did Luffy send you again? I told that damn glutton to wait just 5 minutes for a snack"

"Wha- No! It's for her."

Sanji turned around with an evil smirk.

"Oh, finally realize you were neglecting your girlfriend, and now you're trying to suck up to her with my food?"

"Damn ero-cook. Fine! I'll figure something else out!" Zoro snapped at the blonde. Sanji sucked his teeth.

"Calm your man tits, Marimo. I'll do it for her, not your dumb fuckin ass." He turned around and started to take out ingredients for your favorite dessert.

Zoro breathed deeply, nodding at the cook's back once before stalking out of the kitchen.

~~~~

You felt a little bad about being so petty to Zoro earlier. Did he deserve it? Yes. Well... Maybe? He was really busy, and a partnership wasn't always 50-50, not when one person can't give as much as they want to a relationship when they're so busy with something. You just wished he could tell you he was going to be busy so he couldn't give you the attention he usually did.

You sighed, looking down at the plushie in your arms. You wished you were the one being held, or that you were holding a warm, living, breathing being you loved in your arms. Walking back to your shared room from dinner you gnawed on your lip, concerned. Zoro wasn't at dinner. Did you go too far? No. He would've called you out right there and then if you had. So why-

Oh.

Your body froze in the doorway, hand still resting on the handle. Soft light echoed through the room, pillows and blankets scattered into soft piles with a tray full of your favorite dessert nestled between them. One soft mound was occupied by your favorite swordsman, shirtless and in grey sweats lounging easily with a furrow on his face. He looked up quickly as the door opened, slowly getting to his feet.

"Hey."

"Zoro?"

"Umm. Yeah. I uh... I'm sorry for neglecting you, and we should... spend time? um. Together. Spend time together. For you. I mean to make it up to you."

"...oh. I'd uh... really like that" your smile started small and embarrassed, and grew into a bright grin as he held out his arms for a hug.

You looked at them for a second before leaping at him and slamming your body against his, wrapping your arms around him. His grunt turned into a breathless chuckle as he caught you. You breathed in his scent, took in the warm skin under your hands, the beating of his heart. He nosed your temple before landing a kiss on it.

“Don’t let me get away with that shit again, got it? Come beat my ass if I ever start to take you for granted again. You’re… everything to me.”

You pulled back and met his gaze, eyes shining with emotional wonder.

“I’ll beat your ass so hard” you promised cheekily. He snorted.

“Promise?”

His calloused palm scratched pleasantly against your skin as the fingers of one hand curled around the side and back of your neck, thumb brushing your cheekbone. You leaned into the touch greedily, drinking up the attention like sand soaks up water. His face was closer.

“I promise” you whisper, eyes flicking between his gaze and his lips. A small smirk curls one end of his mouth, making your breath hitch. He noticed.

“Good.”

Zoro was a man who never apologized with words, believing that actions are much more important than honeyed words. His kiss conveys it. His chapped lips mold to yours tenderly, lovingly. He was warm, his breath hot. His hand on your face held you to him, while his other wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to his body.

You thought of all the loneliness he had caused you, how little he communicated, and how frustrating he was. How he seemed to care more for training than your relationship, and therefore about you. Yet you couldn’t have it any other way. He drove you mad because he slashed a way into your life and heart that could never be filled by anything or anyone else. You loved him.

Fuck, I love him.

[justaz]

i've had this au idea for a while and have tried writing it but i don't get far into it before abandoning it so ill post it in case someone else wants to write it or take some inspiration from it or what have you. s4ep1/2 au.

merlin uses his magic to just latch arthur's feet to the ground as well as lancelot's when he sees him creeping towards the veil. merlin turns to face them as he walks backwards, revealing his gold eyes and magic to arthur which barely registers in his mind as he understands what merlin's doing and Panics. he's yelling and almost begging and demanding merlin to get back here you idiot. i'm the king you listen to me

and merlin just smiles and is like when have i ever listened to you? and steps into the veil, sacrificing himself and closing it. with his death, his magic releases arthur and lancelot who are just like. what the fuck. and grief-stricken. and angry. anyways they go back to camelot and lancelot stays with gwen and they mourn together. gwaine is. a wreck. the knights are all grieving. arthur is just. gone. like. he closes himself in his chambers for like two weeks. he doesn't sleep, he doesn't eat, he can barely function. anyways merlin watches him from the veil as a spirit, he watches all of them and is a little guilty about causing them so much grief and heart ache but he rather them be sad and alive than dead so he doesn't regret it that much

magic lore i made up - since merlin gave his life in an exchange, he gets to remain conscious and aware within the veil. the other spirits that roam around are focused on whatever's keeping them there (and keeping them from moving on to the afterlife). there's a lot of sorcerers in camelot who are angry and crying because they were executed by uther - their heads cut off, their bodies charred, or their necks bent at odd angles. they wander around calling for justice. anyways ygraine's life was also taken in an exchange so what i'm saying is ygraine and merlin best friends arc.

they both watch over arthur with worry and then one day arthur just storms out of his chambers and down to the library and buries himself in books, searching desperately for a way to bring merlin back. with how little he's eating and sleeping, arthur ends up passing out and has a nightmare. merlin reaches out on instinct wishing to comfort him and ends up getting pulled into his dreams, only with his intention being to comfort, his arrival shifts the dream from a nightmare into something a lot more pleasant - merlin and arthur together and alive and...courting? it looks like? arthur leans in to kiss him but the dream dissipates right before their lips meet.

anyways, that happens a few times with a few different dreams as arthur searches for a way to open the veil again and bring merlin back. i have two different endings for this though. one is, since merlin is emrys and immortal, after some time the cailleach comes back and is like "immortal asshole. i took some of your eternal life force but you're still immortal but the veil is still sealed. i can't keep someone who still has all this life. get out." and just pushes him out of the veil and into his body again. OR arthur finds a way to bargain with the cailleach and sees his mother with merlin and bada bing bada boom (i forgot to add that arthur at some point finds out about his uncles treachery lmao) trades agravaine's life for ygraine's and then his father's (he can't stand to see his father wasting away and sees this peaceful death as mercy) for merlin's. and he gets his mom and bf best friend manservant back.

after everything settles down, arthur finally has time to focus on merlin's magic but with the trauma of almost losing him, he finds he really can't care about it and just repeals the ban to keep from even thinking about executing him so merlin will never be in danger again. ygraine is also happy about this bc i hc she had a little bit of magic. she learned from her gf nimueh. bonus hc bc i feel like it - ygraine and uther were married and loved each other, yes, but ygraine took nimueh as her consort and uther took balinor as his consort.

okay thats all. if anyone actually writes this or anything similar to it, it'd love to read it. pls tag me or dm me <3

[elizais]

when you know, you know.

when they realise just how much they love you ft: nikolai, bram, poe part 1 here content/warnings: mentions of murder (poe's ability), shortttt, i tried to keep it as a gn reader but i might have slipped up at points. i wrote bram without the sword and in current day bcs i was struggling dudesss i think this is my first time trying to write for bram and poe so please take these with a pinch of salt but the lovely person who requested it was so polite i couldn't pass it up <3

nikolai was.. lively to say the least. i mean, just having a partner would be (in his eyes) something tying him down. but, for you? being with you would comply with him wanting to be free. you granted him freedom from all of the negative thoughts that could plague him.

walking down the high-street with you, hand in hand as he pondered all of these ideas. the both of you were strolling towards a cafe that kolya had begged to go to for its "famous pirozhki".

he was not in his usual attire today, wearing a simple blue turtleneck sweater and jeans that fit him loosely. you had to admit, he looked close to incredible when you contrasted it to his usual wear. even though his outfit was different, his personality did not falter in the slightest.

swinging your arms forwards and backwards quickly as you walked, he giggled at whatever joke he was thinking of. turning towards him, you smiled. "kolya?" you poked his upper arm for his attention. "what type of bird is that?" you asked, glancing at a small bird hopping through tree branches. as he looked over, it flew away.

his braid fell over his shoulder, laying softly as he considered making a witty joke. the truth of what he was thinking was of how much he adored you, how you pointed out birdies, watched comedy shows with him, tried your best to cook his favourite meals, put up with him using his ability to scare you..

he thought back to earlier, you had brushed his hair into the usual neat braid as he spoke about what tricks he was going to pull on sigma and fyodor too. he laughed as you frowned, claiming "leave sigma alone, he has a casino to take care of, babysitting you is my job."

bram was, aside from being a vampire and that, perfect. his personality was complex, but you often joked that it wittled down to him just wanting to sleep.

today, you were both sat on the sofa as he spoke about aya. you were brushing through his hair. "she was telling me about some artists, i think she meant composers." he explained, going on about music as you giggled. his hair was showing some curls towards the ends that you were entertaining yourself with.

he was kneeling in front of you so that you could face his back and toy with his hair.

"what is amusing?" he asked politely, refraining from turning around incase he messed up the braid you insisted so stubbornly on putting in his hair. you pulled the long braid onto his shoulder and he saw how you had refined the hair past the bobble into a sweet curl.

he smiled softly as you spoke, "what genre do you want to listen to? does aya have any recommendations?" you teased and he let out a soft chuckle. cherishing these sweeter, saccharine moments were as good at keeping him alive as his ability was.

he put up with the garlic jokes, playing dumb vampire films on tv (he really does love hotel transylvania!), the teasing.. all because he loves you !!

poe was like a breath of fresh air to be around. there was never a need to be loud or extroverted with him. and those were just bonuses on top of getting to hang out with a raccoon all of the time. you were currently in another room trying to trim karl's nails.

key word: trying

ed was in the study, writing another novel. whether it's for ranpo or not? who knows. karl wasn't putting up a fight but more so.. wriggling around. any sane person would have given up by now but with the amount of time this raccoon spends around your shoulders? zero chance.

once you finally finished, you swooped karl into your arms and carried him back to edgar. "ed? have you eaten or drank water recently?" you asked, setting down karl and walking over to him as he closed the book before him. he nodded as he looked up to you from his armchair.

"yes, and i have finished it!" he exclaimed, you furrowed your brows in confusion. "finished what, love?" he presented you the book proudly. "it's just like the film we watched a few weeks ago. you said you wanted to live in that manor house, no?" and that's when it clicked for you.

he carried on, "when you want to go, all the characters will be there! i had to add in another to die but other than that? it's the same!" he excitedly explained. tracing over the clothbound cover with your name on the front, he added one more thing. "oh! and to figure it out in one of the office desk drawers it will let you know what happened."

you smiled at that, he didn't want you to struggle. unfortunately, his ability was only murder mystery related so he couldn't write a book about a sunshine land where nothing went wrong. yet he tried his best, for you!