#that but not as afraid as i was in april when i had a full on breakdown and canceled it the day before it was set to happen lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

holybibly · 8 months ago

Note

Omg 6th of april is my birthday!! It would be fun to have your fic as a present but I'm also very impatient and I'd read your fic right away if you were to post it on monday

Oh, baby, I just couldn't resist making you happy. Something spicy and tasty for my April Bunny.

You had been in this position for a long time—the thick red threads burning through your delicate skin as you hung like a beautiful work of art in the middle of the sumptuous imperial chambers. Creating his own unique erotic pattern of pleasure and pain, the Emperor personally tightened every intricate knot on your body. The line between these sensations was too blurry in your mind for there to be any separation. Behind the tightly closed golden doors of the Emperor's chambers, no one would ever know. You were in his power, belonging to him alone - vulnerable and subservient - just as he wanted you to be.

San was humming softly as he walked around you, examining you from head to toe in the manner of a predator studying his prey. You could feel the weight and hardness of his dark gaze on your naked body, but that wasn't enough for San - he wanted to skin you and get to your very soul, peeling away layer after layer of luxurious, silky flesh. He leaned in closer to you and looked at the nasty, blood-red marks left by the intricately woven threads, the jagged, blackened lines that were digging into your skin. It was a strange act of the power he had over you: This is mine, I say this wordlessly.

You were in pain, the tight ropes wrapped around your body like the most elaborate and exquisite torture. Yet your heart was pounding in your chest with a mixture of excitement and anticipation. You tried to calm your breathing, afraid of upsetting Emperor San with your behaviour. Otherwise, instead of leaving his chamber as a 'golden' concubine, your corpse would be carried out of here in the morning.

"You are so beautiful..." He whispered as he ran his fingers over your face, his touch fleeting and too light for you to be able to savour it to the full. Nothing could have prepared you for the hard, sharp slap that landed on your bottom, causing a short cry to escape your throat. You trembled. The Emperor had kept you here for so long, toying with you like a cat with a mouse.

San would dig his nails into your skin, leaving behind rough, possessive scratches that would make you squirm and writhe in your exquisite rope cage. San's moods were always too unpredictable - loving you, hating you, wanting to fuck you one moment, wanting to chop your head off the next. It was a real surprise when you were invited to his chambers tonight, because you could never tell what he wanted. But you knew that word had probably got around - you have a taste for pain. Just like him.

San pulled on one of the many red ropes and lifted you higher into the air, causing your posture to change to a horizontal position. His hand cupped your chin and lifted your head so that you were looking into his eyes.

He ran his tongue slowly over your plump lower lip, tilting your head to the side in an almost childish motion, as if considering the possibilities of what he wanted to do to you. You sobbed, not knowing how much longer you would be able to endure the Emperor's game.

"Don't move, love." San murmured, the hoarse, guttural sound of his voice vibrating against your skin. He leaned against you again, and this time he kissed you hard on the mouth. The kiss was dirty and wet, but so hot that it made you feel like you were burning up.

The Emperor's golden silk robe falls to the floor and spreads out at his feet, exposing his chiseled body as San slides his silk trousers down his thighs and pulls out his hard, thick cock; on his massive girth, the veins are clearly visible, as are drops of shiny pre-cum on the swollen head.

The seductive sight makes you lick your lips and open your mouth to receive the Emperor's cock, but instead of a treat, you get a sharp slap in the face. It stings, but it is worth it for the little sparks of excitement that spread across your flushed skin from the blow.

"You'll have to ask for permission, my love." San snarls, clenching his fingers tightly around your chin.

"Please, my Emperor. Please..." Your voice trembles, either from the cold air that fills the Emperor's chambers or from the anticipation of pleasure.

San's lips curve into a devilish grin as he strokes the head of his cock over your lips, coating them with a viscous, clear liquid before sliding it into your waiting, warm mouth. He groans quietly as you circle the head of his cock with your tongue, stroking the velvety skin and capturing the bitter pre-cum in your mouth.

"Good girl..." He purrs as he tangles his fingers in your long, black hair. Your exquisite hairstyle has long since been turned into a disheveled mess.

San pushes his cock deeper into your mouth until the thick head rests against the back of your throat. You swallow, letting him push deeper. He hisses as he grabs a tighter hold of the strands of your hair and pulls on them a little, making you moan and sending vibrations up and down the length of his cock.

"Do it again, sweetheart." San orders as he pulls your mouth down the length of his massive cock until your nose is pressed against the hot skin of his pubic. You do as you're told and swallow around him again, the walls of your throat clenching delightfully as you try to hold his thick cock captive in your hot throat.

"Fuck." The Emperor's voice is like a big cat's as his hips begin to move—rough and deep thrusts that create a relentless rhythm as he fucks your mouth.

Tears well up in your eyes, but you dare not fight back, allowing yourself to be used the way the Emperor wants you to be used.

You were completely helpless as the San continued to ram his wiry cock down your throat. The thick weave of ropes was the only thing holding you still as your body rocked with each powerful thrust of his muscular thighs. His golden skin was glistening with the sweat that was dripping down between the tight muscles of his abs.

The saliva was dripping down the sides of your mouth, along with a large amount of his pre-cum, but it only seemed to excite San even more. You could feel the throbbing of his cock on your tongue as its velvety length slid down with each thrust. Your moans rumbled around him, stimulating him even more. Soon the Emperor came out of your mouth, leaving thick strands of cum on your face, marking you as belonging to him.

San grinned at the sight of your face covered in the milky goo of his cum. The smile on his face looked almost sinister in the golden flame of the candles.

San used two fingers to collect a large amount of his cum from your lips and put it in your mouth, smearing it on his tongue as he did so. He watched with pleasure as you eagerly sucked on his fingers in the hope of more. The sharp blade of the knife glinted in the dim light of the room, cutting the red ropes that held you aloft, and your body landed with a thud on the soft feathered bedding of his mattress. The erotic pattern of the ropes still bound your body, so San still had you under his control like a puppet.

The Emperor turned you over and pressed your back against the scarlet silk sheets. Your long hair blew across the fabric like a black fan. Before your body had a chance to relax, a sharp slap came down on your sensitive, wet cunt, causing your entire body to curve in the bloody tangle of threads that were wrapped around you. San laughed loudly and threw his head back, revealing his sweet dimples as jets of fluid squirt from your pussy and flooded the silk sheets beneath you.

"It's true what they say, isn't it, darling? You like the pain so much that you can come without being touched, just for the sensation of it." He slides two fingers inside your cunt, circling around the sensitive walls, and gives you another sharp slap. The double stimulation sends new streams of fluid spurting out of you.

You squirm under his caress and try to squeeze your legs together, but the ropes won't let you do it.

In one swift motion, San cuts the rope that is holding your legs together and spreads them wide open, exposing your pink pussy to his hungry gaze. He spits on your cunt, enjoying the way his saliva drips down between your quivering folds and mixes with your juices.

"Are you as delicious as you look, Jewel?" His mouth presses greedily against your pussy, his tongue sliding between your folds, and his devilishly curved lips sucking enthusiastically on your sensitive clit. San lets out a soft moan as his tongue plunges into your hole, lapping up your juices like a cat hungry for cream.

You shudder with pleasure, arching your back and pressing your pussy against his face as the Emperor flicks the tip of his tongue along the swollen bundle of nerves. The thought of the Great Emperor San eating your pussy as if it were his only purpose in life would have been unthinkable this morning. But here you are, lying on his luxurious silken bed, surrounded by the gold of his chamber, caressed by his strong hands and skilled tongue. San was an experienced lover who knew how to give his partner the most sophisticated and violent of pleasures.

"Your Majesty, I feel so good. You feel like heaven. Ah." You were no longer able to hold back the loud moans and pleas that were coming from your throat. You moaned, your legs shaking slightly as San ran his tongue along the long strip from your hole to your clit, before his teeth scratched it as he began to suck again. "Please, my Emperor... nmmm."

Ignoring your whimpering and the way your body was shaking and writhing, San continued to lick your cunt. Insatiable, he sucked, licked, and rubbed his tongue over your quivering, oozing hole, moaning and purring at your taste.

As soon as San was satisfied enough, he would pull away from your cunt, leaving you to whimper in longing at the loss of his tongue. But the feeling of frustration quickly disappeared as his thick, wiry cock entered you, making you scream with pleasure as he penetrated you at the very base. The feeling of being stretched was searing, San's cock too big for your unprepared cunt, thick throbbing veins rubbing against your tender flesh with every movement.

You felt so stuffed. So full. It made you feel as if you belonged to your emperor.

San didn't wait a second before he started the move, right from the start with a hard, fast pace. His strong thighs pressed against yours each time his cock entered you, the large head hitting your cervix with each powerful, deep thrust. The sound of the blows against your skin was an echo through his golden chambers. As he quickened his pace to fuck you even harder, his breathing became heavy and his voice husky and low.

"You are mine!" San growled as he wrapped his fingers around your throat and squeezed it tightly, effectively cutting off your supply of oxygen. Tears streamed from your eyes, and your vision went dark as you felt yourself fall into a deep abyss of pleasure that was mixed with pain. Every part of your body was on fire, as was your mind. "You belong to me, my love." He loosened his grip on your throat for a few seconds to allow you to breathe, but it was only a moment before his grip tightened again, the gold ring on his finger digging into the back of your neck, leaving a rough crimson trail behind it.

The Emperor's cock dragged deliciously along the silken walls of your body, causing you to clench around it. You begin to drool, saliva dripping down your chin as San leans down to your face to lick your mouth as his hips begin to fuck you from a different angle, the head of his cock now rubbing deliciously against your G-spot.

Your orgasm rages through you like an all-consuming flame, destroying every conscious part of you and leaving you boneless. You wriggle underneath him, your legs shaking violently as you unconsciously wrap them around his slender, slutty waist. You start to squirt again, copious jets of fluid splashing around San's cock as he continues to fuck you like there's no tomorrow. His pace slows, his thrusts become hard and short, and you come again. This time you feel the emperor's hot, thick cum staining your tender walls white.

San rests his forehead on your shoulder to catch his breath, sweat dripping from his hair onto your skin, before he pulls away from you and slowly pulls his cock out of your used pussy. He stretches out like a big cat before he bends down to give you a deep kiss.

"You really are a little jewel, darling. I think I'll keep you all to myself." His dark, piercing eyes sparkle with malevolence and seem to be the repository of all human sin. "Let's go take a bath, my love."

San rises from the bed, snaps his fingers, and the servants waiting outside the door immediately begin to prepare a bath for the two of you. You're still a little lost after your orgasm; your body aches, and now the ropes wrapped around you cause more discomfort than pleasure. But you look up at the Emperor with a look of utter adoration and admiration, admiring the way the muscles of his back move under the golden, wet skin.

"As you wish, my Emperor."

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brynn-lear · 5 months ago

Text

LOCKED AND LOADED [Yandere!Wanderer x Reader]

Prompt: The world is about to end. How will you grieve when you're forced to be with a miserable man until the last second? [Dedicated To: @mixed-kester for the Alone Together Event]

Content Tags: yandere!scaramouche "fluff" oneshot (yes, there are no other parts:]), major persona 3 spoilers but you DON’T need to know the game before reading this since everything is explained, improper use of a S.E.E.S evoker /j, Scaramouche is so normal about you, UNRELIABLE NARRATOR, major character death/s–

V. Acceptance.

"Where the hell are you, (Y/n)?"

Standing near what should have been the front doors of his university was a short man with dark purple hair. He leaned precariously against them, his head tilted upward as if the sickly green moon's ominous pull was nothing to be afraid of. Gekkoukan University's nearby dorms– fraternity and sorority houses included– are not usually this silent. Instead of people, coffins were aligned perpendicular to the ground.

The wanderer glanced at his watch with mild interest. He had been waiting for a while now. Your guest hoisted himself up, circling the ground with the tip of his shoe. The baseline of his attitude had always defaulted to irritability and passive-aggressiveness. The vertically aligned hour-and-minute hands do not placate it. The timing itself makes it worse.

It's December 31st, 2009, 12 AM– the Dark Hour.

With a harsh sneer, he pocketed his hands. You usually have the door to the Velvet Room open to him whenever. What's the big deal? Were you seriously THAT mad at him? Really? He didn't do anything to warrant this "pettiness". He had never known silence as much as this moment.

You should've accounted for the hostility that proceeds on the "off-chance" he did arrive early.

His tone darkened, his bloodied hands gripping his S.E.E.S evoker tightly.

"If you don’t show up, I will cleanse the world of human emotion all by myself"

You shook from afar, afraid of how he wouldn't hesitate to make his threat a reality. He had already taken so much– you were beyond mad at him. You were terrified. Wronged. Abused. You didn't want to step into the light. Much worse, step into his shadow.

The worst thing evil can do is to turn you into one of them.

He clutched the bloodied yellow scarf in his hands tightly.

Why did this happen?

How did things END up like this?

IV. Depression.

You took a deep breath and charged forward.

You don't trust [Wanderer] ever since Ryoji told him about the impending apocalypse.

Seldom do you leave the Velvet Room. You weren't hiding in the Velvet room months before the end of the world was imminent. When April had only reached its fourth day, there was nothing you wanted more than to spend time outside. So ignominiously innocent. You did not know who [Wanderer] was and how much effect he would have on your life at the time. You were just tired of the ongoing stream of uneventfulness.

And now here you are, berating the protagonist in full.

"[Wanderer], why is Ryoji missing?! US ATTENDANTS CAN'T FIND TRACK HIM ANYWHERE!!!"

With a fistful of his university uniform, you yanked him by the collar. Your eyes were livid as you reeled your composure. This wasn't what you had in mind when you were "isekai"d into a video game. Out of any game, why did it have to be Persona 3? And out of anyone that could be a protagonist, why did it have to be HIM?!

You thought this would be a grand affair... Whatever they spun in anime back when your reality existed were pure lies. Where are the scenic views? The mountains? The grasslands? This plane of existence you're forced to sit through for eternity was far from the RPG fantasy people would hope for. No closer you could ever be to paradise.

In fact, this man is threatening to ruin said paradise.

[Wanderer] pulled your hands away forcefully. His glare was not that different from yours. "Why do you care about him so much?"

"Oh, I don't know! Maybe it's because his death means forgetting everything?!" You clenched your empty fists. "You know damn well what happens if he dies! You'll lose all the help you can get to stopping the Fall!"

Such a heavy weight on your shoulders but the protagonist doesn't care. This may be a turn-based game– but it wasn't based on you. If it was, you wouldn't be screaming your heart out at him! You wouldn't be an NPC. Hell, you'd probably be a better protagonist than him.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and sighed every stress out of your system.

"Listen—" You rubbed your temple. "You need to start forming bonds. Social links. Support system. Confidants. Whatever you want to call it. You were supposed to have the answer by now as to what life is for."

[Wanderer] remained silent throughout your spiels. His facial expression alone was enough to infer immense disinterest. You were mindlessly doing your job. There will be no tirade or physical aggression that can convince him that you believe in your assertions with full conviction.

"Do you want to see him?"

"Yes! Of course. Knowing you, you're—"

"Tempted to kill him because you think I want the world to end?"

"Obviously."

That's where you're wrong.

A nihilistic man can have other reasons to commit murder.

"But if he's missing, you can forget about him, right?"

"What on earth are you talking about?!"

[Wanderer] turned around. "Meet me later, you know the time."

"I'll show you where Ryoji is."

III. Bargaining.

XX/09/2009

He doesn't recall the time he was brought into this world like you had.

Puppets are malleable. Memories are easy to overwrite when your body is held together by white wood and "khemia". His past evades him.

Maybe it's better this way.

He took you to Chagall Café. Although it was your first time out in a long while, he had no qualms about ignoring your questions. He feigned deafness as you asked about the news, his college life, friends, or anything related to what was happening in 2009. And he even ignored your humble request to buy the cheapest coffee for you. Instead, he bought you a chocolate frappe.

"For Elizabeth's cutest little sibling." He said, sarcastically copying Elizabeth's tone as he sharply handed the drink. "Wouldn't want everyone's darling to get a caffeine addiction."

Thanks, asshat.

Of all his offensive behavior— he really spent more money just to insult you. You shook your head and accepted it. It's the most expensive one on the menu too. What dedication to being a hater. But before you could open your wallet, he shot your payment down.

"Just take it." He smirked. "Look at you, paying me back for treating you poorly. Are you a masochist?"

You immediately shoved your money back in. "You still bought me a free drink, so really, who's the loser here? Prick."

[Wanderer] laughed heartily before he pulled out his battered codal, which had underlined texts for provisions he deemed important. There was a momentary softness in his gaze that disappeared in an instant.

But that's the only conversation he planned on having that evening. He did mention he'll drag you out in his study session so you weren't too shocked by it. Instead, you sat and awkwardly people-watched. The world you came from and this one were identical. You got through your old 2009 just fine— it's just that Tatsumi Port Island was not a real location from your original Japan.

Your memories about the video game Persona aren't very clear since you reincarnated in the game, but the red band [Wanderer] wore on his sleeve affirmed that he is the leader of S.E.E.S. It's nice to know that someone like him has the potential to become a leader.

[Wanderer] appeared wholly immersed in his studies.

…

Maybe he wouldn't notice if you looked around—

…?!

He immediately grabbed your hand. You yelped slightly as you noticed the iron grip he had.

"Where are you going?"

Don't leave him.

He squeezed just a bit more tightly.

"W-What the— I'm just going to the bathroom." You felt a shiver down your spine as you shared his gaze. There's a dull coldness to it you couldn't quite place, as if he had been a witness to injustice, sevenfold.

You quietly sat back down. He still hasn't let go of your hand.

"Good riddance." He muttered.

"If it isn't [Wanderer]!"

You turned around, yanking your hand away.

It's Ryoji.

You stood up, gawking.

"W-Woah, are you okay?" Ryoji asked, hurriedly approaching you. While you were frozen in place, [Wanderer] looked at his empty hand, feeling your warmth escape his fingertips.

G-Good… he's still alive.

You thought [Wanderer] killed him.

[Wanderer] is the wildcard, and that's a terrifying factor to consider. He hasn't shown any interest in humanity. Knowing his past has not increased any hope on your end. Everyone else in his eyes are insignificant insects.

He has the power to end Ryoji.

He has the power to end this world.

Locked and loaded.

Ryoji's eyes softened. "Wait, I think I know a beautiful face like yours from somewhere… You must be [Wanderer]'s attendant, (Y/n), right?"

You blinked.

"Wait, how did you…"

He chuckled, taking and placing a soft kiss on your gloved hands.

"I have my ways." Ryoji winked.

"Don't touch them." [Wanderer] sneered.

Ryoji stood up straight, unfazed by his threatening tone. You took a moment to examine his appearance. He had a lot of white clothing and a big yellow scarf around his neck. Just below his left eye is a mole. On the surface, he appeared quite human, but everyone seated at this table was aware of his true nature.

He is the 13th arcana. The appraiser.

You and [Wanderer] have every right to be wary.

"I'm Ryoji Mochizuki. It's nice to be officially introduced to you, Mx. (Y/n)."

"Ryoji Mochizuki…" You tasted the syllables.

"Oh? Who knew hearing my name from your lips makes it sound so wonderful."

"C-Cut it out, you don't mean that." You said, a little flustered.

[Wanderer]'s gaze fixated on you, stewing in his concoction of envy and misery. His fists were clenched beneath the table, knuckles turning white. With narrowed eyes, he watched as you continued engaging in conversation with Ryoji. His laughter was grating his ears. He couldn't bear the sight of you engaging with another man, especially someone as flirtatious as him.

Ryoji, sensing [Wanderer]'s distress, shot him a casual glance. To top the look, he paired it with a knowing smirk. He made mental notes of the man's clenched jaw and tensed shoulders.

"You seem a little on edge, [Wanderer]. Finals coming up?" He feigned innocence.

"It's December, and I'm not on edge." He scoffed, trying not to make his gritted teeth evident. "Don't you own a calendar? Finals are in March. To think a pea-brain like you managed to transfer to Gekkan…"

"Right, right." Ryoji smiled, closing his eyes. "Then it must be my proposal you're thinking of."

You stiffened; [Wanderer] did not.

"Ryoji—"

"I know, Mx. (Y/n)." He started. "I know you're not too keen on the idea of killing me. My existence is the affirmation of the Fall. None of you— sorry, I forgot (Y/n) is from the Velvet room— I meant none of them will live till Spring… Or perhaps it's more accurate to say they'll forfeit the will to live."

…

"… I-I'm sorry." Ryoji buried his face in his yellow scarf. There's a certain tremble in his voice that truly emphasizes his sorrow. "Just as all living things die, the flow of time cannot be hindered. But there's comfort in killing me. If you do… you won't have to suffer for the coming days."

If [Wanderer] kills Ryoji, Tartarus, the Dark Hour— the burden of everyone's memories will all disappear.

But [Wanderer] can retain his.

He's not originally from this world after all…

However, should he let him live, the rest of S.E.E.S's life will continue until everyone's inevitable demise.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

[Wanderer] rolled his eyes, diverting his eyes back to his notes. "Everyone will die soon, who cares? I've heard your spiel several times already. You need to get more entertaining material."

"[Wanderer]!" You scolded him.

Your eyes widened in disbelief at [Wanderer]'s unwittingly casual jabs at the apocalypse. You wanted to ask him if he was even listening, but the truth will disappoint you. A cold sweat formed on your brow.

Ryoji's smile crooked into a hopeless one.

"You depend on (Y/n) too much."

[Wanderer] froze. "What did you say…?"

"You have a group of people around you, eager to establish a bond— eager to be friends with you. You have met Junpei, Yukari, Mitsuru, Akihiko, Fuuka, and many others– but you don't consider any of them as your friends." Ryoji shook his head. "Instead, you spend your time with just (Y/n). Never anyone else. Just them. To the point that I think it's unhealthy."

"I don't care for humans." He replied immediately.

"You're human too, [Wanderer]." Ryoji shot back. "You're made of blood, bones, and flesh."

[Wanderer] fell silent. What Ryoji said was true, and yet…

"Am I?" He laughed.

The sound was hollow and mechanical. Deprived of genuine mirth. It did not sound forced, yet his eyes were dull.

…

Perhaps he lived as a puppet for so long that the idea of being human has yet to reach him.

Ryoji shifted, uncomfortably glancing between you two. The tension was palpable despite the cafe's peaceful ambiance. Ryoji cleared his throat softly.

"I should leave…" He trailed off, voice slightly wavering. His eyes darted around, scrambling for words to say. "But, um, before I leave, I just want to say again that you need to give it some more thought, [Wanderer]... It's a big deal… Just…"

Ryoji sighed. "Remember to make your choice to spare or kill me by December 31st. I'm glad you're having fun but don't get too distracted with (Y/n). I'll be waiting."

That being said, his footsteps reverberated loudly in the otherwise still room as he turned and headed for the door. He dared to turn back as he grabbed for the doorknob and saw you two sharing a look that he couldn't determine if it was one of contemplation or displeasure. He hurried out and the cafe door shut behind him.

"Happy?" [Wanderer] bitterly asked.

You paused for a moment… then grinned.

"Tsk, what are you laughing at, worm?"

"Nothing, nothing!" You shrugged. "I just thought that for a guy with a stick up his ass, you're cute when you're jealous."

That riled [Wanderer] up in an instant.

You do not know the full extent of his envy's filth.

"I am NOT—" He stopped, realizing how counterproductive it would be. "Whatever. I don't care."

"Uhuh?"

"Shut up and finish your damn chocolate!"

II. Anger.

Before you know it, it's April.

"Seriously, you three, I'm bored as fuck! Can't I just take a stroll outside?" You yelled, waving the heavy persona compendium in the air as your sisters ignored you.

It hasn't been long since you reincarnated, so your right to go outside isn't as liberal. Given the impending threat of an apocalypse, the Velvet Room attendants are especially overprotective.

"(Y/n), dear sibling, watch your mouth! You mustn't let Igor or Nameless hear you speak so vulgarly."

Taking a good look at your new "siblings", you've noticed how almost everyone was present. Margaret sat elegantly on the sofa while Theodore & Elizabeth were doing their best to calm you down. It's almost rare to have all three in one place. The three oldest were busy-bodies who had more eccentric matters they devoted their attention to. Including rapping and dancing, though neither performances are good for your senses.

"If boredom plagues you, then you should try teasing Theodore." Elizabeth yawned. "He's easy pickings."

"Sister!" Theodore pouted. "Shouldn't (Y/n) focus on studying how fusing works? It would be a better use of their time…"

"The day (Y/n)'s new wildcard learns the value of social links might just be the day miserly politicians become generous." Elizabeth shrugged.

You paled, tugging her sleeve. "Oh fuck… Am I screwed?"

She gave you a lopsided smile. "I may be your new sibling but that does not mean I am obliged to resolve your problems, (Y/n). Learn to solve this on your own."

Theodore coughed.

"Please, stop scaring them, sister Elizabeth. It's not their fault this new guest is a cruel arbiter. I fear there will not be a second of groundless joy in store for them…"

"You're not helping me relax either! Motherfucker. Can't you two speak normally?"

"Settle down, all of you."

The four of you stood straight as Igor tilted his chin up. Though you've gotten used to his bloodshot gaze, it had a way of prickling your skin this time around. With his signature smile, he closed his eyes and snapped his fingers.

"Our guest is about to enter."

"W-Wait, RIGHT NOW?!?"

Before you could react, the room transformed into what appeared to be a large elevator. The walls were barred and creaking noises began to subtly make their presence. A floating door materialized, and soon, opened.

Dark purple hair and eyes, short frame, soft face.

"…Hmm?"

You blinked.

"Wait, no way…"

You know him.

Of course, you know him.

"Everyone, meet [Wanderer]."

You decided that you two should reintroduce yourselves and forget that the past ever happened.

For now, you had been gifted with a vital role: being the protagonist's attendant.

According to your Igor, your role is to assist your guest in fusing personas. He had chosen you specifically in advance as you are his "anima/animus figure". Initially, that job was for Elizabeth. However, your beliefs, your intuition, your emotions— they're in perfect tune with [Wanderer]. Igor expects you to facilitate their spiritual and psychological growth and implore them to interact more with others.

Which, based on that alone, sounds like this puppet just hired an unpaid therapist.

"What do you want?"

"Well…"

Since you became [Wanderer]'s attendant, you've started to have thicker skin. He will always make his crankiness known each visit. You're slightly grateful for it, for how else would you know patience otherwise? Though his personality rubs you the wrong way, his strength does have merits you cannot ignore. Even Belladona, the Velvet Room's devout singer, had sung praises for his mettle. There was one line that struck you about her song, something about him being like a puppet with a beating heart unbeknownst to himself…

Which is why you thought you might as well try to see if you could convince him to take you out sometimes.

"What, like a date?" [Wanderer] scoffed then smirked, a light blush on his face. "Are you really that desperate?"

"No, eww—" You rolled your eyes. "I meant it literally. Igor and the others wouldn't let me go outside unless I'm with someone they trust."

He looked away and covered his mouth, his shoulders trembling slightly.

"Like a child?"

"Yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up." You deadpanned, your pride slightly chipped. "Like a child or whatever you want to see it, as long as it gets me out of here. I just want to see the world before it all…"

You paused.

Better not to bring it up. You're not sure if Igor told him yet.

[Wanderer] raised an eyebrow. "What's in it for me?"

You shrugged. "Is money not enough?"

He paused.

…

"You've got to be kidding me— Fine, what else do you want?"

His eyelids lowered, hissing slightly. "Evil expects evil from others, huh? I wasn't trying to think of anything more, but now that I think about it…"

"Oh, great."

"… I can take your request," he pointed at you. "But only if you join me in the library. Anywhere else, especially loud places like clubs, I'll send your ass back."

That's a no-brainer.

"Deal!"

Though you've missed the peculiar sight, [Wanderer] had a small smile on his face as you shook hands. The two of you had become nearly inseparable since then.

Worryingly, he's closer to you than other humans.

The only relationship he needed was with you.

And with what little time this world has left, you hope you could have a last cup of coffee with him…

I. Denial.

Your reality crumbled. What a START.

Your family, friends... all gone. No one was left. You convince yourself you "deserved" this punishment for smoking a life away with dreadful workloads, no matter how untrue it was. When the world burnt down, you were sent into a darkness you had not known before.

The person in charge of your reincarnation process told you that for the next few minutes, you and a selected companion will see your lives flash before your eyes in a void— and it will not necessarily be a comforting sight.

But you woke up relaxed. In an abyss filled with broken mirrors meant to depict your character to pieces, you donned a plain expression. There was not an inch of you that grieved for what was lost. Similarly, you had no care for how you were being transmigrated to another realm. Though you had grown accustomed to this isolation, humanity always struggled with silence. There was ringing on your fingers. When you unclasped your hands, you saw a pointed shard. Curiously, you clenched it. But no matter the tightness of your grip, no blood came out.

Your breath fogged up the glass. You wondered why that Memokeeper told you that you deserve to live on. You thought your life was rather unremarkable.

Makes sense. You thought to yourself. I'd rather pride myself on a boring life with integrity than an ambitious yet fraudulent one.

「Assignments. Commute. Study. Review. Assignments. Commute. Study. Review. Was that all your life was...? Then tell me, little (Y/n), why does the mirror in front of you appear distorted?」

And so, you gazed forward. Your reflection stood tall, larger than your life, and it beckoned you to come closer. This "(Y/n) (L/n)" had the opposite of a Cheshire grin- perhaps a caricature- perhaps an accurate depiction. Wearied of yourself and wearied of the sycophantic students around you. How unhappy are you to see yourself as someone like this? Are these the emotions you wish to be preserved? Is this the memory you want your world to be remembered by?

「These memories must be corrupted. Someone must be tampering with them. I do not think you lived a miserable life.」

I can't answer your questions either. But I think that reflection is who I am, because sometimes...

"I wish I had never been born at all."

Your lips were parted, but no sound came out. You resonated with those words, but they did not come from you. The voice was dark, hopeless, and alone.

When you were being sent off, you thought no one was around to greet you. There was another man. He had short hair and purple eyes- an incredibly rare sight in your world. This man seemed to be gazing at his reflection as well. You needn't know how he saw himself. The emptiness in his eyes did not differ from yours. He, too, was masking isolation as independence with an intense fragility. The dread he inflicted upon you was the closest you've ever gotten to facing your own perceived "weakness".

His memories were a mixbag. Some were filled with domestic bliss, but the anger in his heart triumphed more. He had friends but thought himself betrayed. His heart was constructed through a system of evasions, and he was a specialist in self-deception. This man knew little of emotions but had an abundance of it. It's no wonder he refused to sacrifice the artistry of his vengeance against humanity. You can sympathize with how he could not attach himself to those around him. He was burdened with malicious knowledge. Fakes. Lies. Insincerities. A class of his own.

However, he had a sin you cannot empathize with. A trait you can read that you're certain he had never noticed about himself.

He was a sickeningly beautiful man with a peculiar innocence.

He looked like a man who truly did not live in the real world.

This man did not feel real to you. He felt made-up. Fictional. His aura of flawlessness appalled you. Though you shared the same sentiments, you thought him dimensionless.

Yet this is supposedly your first meeting.

「Is it? Where have you seen him before? Can't you remember, dear (Y/n)?」

No. No, I can't.

「... What a shame. Worry no more, little (Y/n). Close your eyes. When you wake up, you will meet your new reality— new realm— new family.」

You nodded and agreed to a higher existence you did not believe in. Unlike others, you were a little bit more incapable of trusting a living soul. But there's no other choice.

Life is ordinarily far from anyone's control in the first place. Why bother fighting? If following can make her fuck off, it doesn't matter.

Nothing matters.

Wait…

Is that…

Scaramouche?

Before you closed your eyes and accepted your fate, you could've sworn...

He looked at you with a crooked grin.

「Thou art I... And I am thou...

Thou hast established a new bond...

Thou shalt be blessed when creating

Personas of the Universe Arcana..."」

"Hmm. Strange… Is that truly the order of the story?"

A woman stared at you.

Not (Y/n) (L/n).

YOU.

BEHIND.

THE.

SCREEN.

She smiled wryly.

Hate might empower you for a short while, but it comes at the cost of consuming you whole. Should a shard or any surface reflect [Wanderer]'s face, he would understand what he had become. However, it's too late. He had made his choice and stomped away any remorse he could have. When all is said and done, he alone will spread the ashes. He alone will stand. A blank slate.

[Wanderer] spent his life looking for scapegoats and ended up removing his responsibility.

Betrayals?

What a sad, sad puppet.

What a poor excuse to justify an entire apocalypse.

A poor excuse of a man.

"THE ARCANA IS THE MEANS BY WHICH ALL IS REVEALED." She muttered softly. "And you have been reading your story in REVERSE. Perhaps this is the only way this world can attain SALVATION. The chronological order is not a slice of life. You did not have a disagreement and decided to start your relationship over again. Life is far more WICKED."

"Read it again, but from DENIAL to ACCEPTANCE. The proper way to GRIEVE DEATH."

With great reluctance, she took the five cards laid on the table and placed them in an upright position.

"Let's see if you'd rather ACCEPT the truth or live in DENIAL."

Mixed-Kester can now message Wanderer [prior to 12/31/2009]

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saltydkdan · 5 months ago

Note

When is the fourth part of the jojo iceberg coming out? Last time there was an update all the way back in April, in which you said it'd be a month away, so I'm wondering if there's any new projection for that

Full disclosure, I kept running into weird issues and had to fully re-edit chunks of it. Plus I'm an asshole that over estimates myself. All I can say right now is that I'm currently editing it and trying to get it finished as soon as possible.

I doubt it'd take another month, but I'm afraid I'm going to jinx myself again if I say that with my full chest.

#saltydkdan #salty asks

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lactoseintolerentswag · 1 year ago

Text

Rise Characterizations Pt. 6!!!!!!

After the turtles and Splinter, here we have the girl Ever. She's pretty spunky, I had fun analyzing her for writing.

April O'Neil Character Notes

Language Habits:

Uses bae/aave, something she could have passed on down to Raph and Mikey as they also use bae/aave

Most notably uses "mm-kay" in place of "okay"

Uses a lot of filler language, interjections, or onomatopoeia. Think "mhm", "uh huh, uh huh!", "oh yeah!"

"Ah nuts" is her go-to disappointed phrase

Grits and or strains her teeth when she's frustrated

Uses her own name (the full "April O'Neil!!!!") as a battle cry, or brings her name as a motivator i.e. "the one and only April O'Neil will solve this case!"

The more worked up she the louder she tends to be, this extends to stronger emotions such as passion or panic

Over text uses emoticons

Refers to splinter as "splints"

Refers to the turtles as "the fam"

Refers to villains/antagonists through insults rather than their names

Personality:

Adrenaline junkie, as she's often the first to jump into a fight. She also laughs in the face of danger, and was seen maniacally laughing and smiling the entirety of the gumbus episode

Jack of all trades. April has a lot of skills she's picked up from various jobs or personal adventures she's seeked out (like canoeing through the sewers in a hazmat suit and earning a crane license)

Wild and blunt. April is Loud, and rarely ever afraid to share her opinion. This can either make people draw back from her bluntness or be drawn in by her excitableness

Self-conscious. Despite her strong sense of self-esteem, April is still often motivated to impress the popular kids at school or at least fit in. She doesn't want to be seen as the weird kid, or associated with the weird kids

Persistent. April is always quick on her feet to hit back whatever comes at her. She has a good set of problem-solving skills that she's gained from all the skills she's picked up

Loyal. She's always willing to back up the turtles, and goes out of her way to keep Splinter happy with her company. Once she finds a friend it's hard to pry her away

Unlucky. Mostly in absurd or mundane ways. She has that whole curse with her birthday, but things don't often tend to go right for April O'Neil, which contributes to the disasters that cause her to get fired all the time

Miscellaneous:

Code-named "yellow submarine" by raph

Tends to have information on wifi passwords, secret exists, and access to keys from all the jobs she's been hired and fired from

Has a preference for blunt objects as weapons (most commonly bats, clubs, pipes)

Uses the environment in a fight in general

She's been part of the "warren stone fanclub" since 2010, and keeps all her ids in her wallet

Likes unicorns and cats (as seen through her brief texts with sunita and her pajamas)

Loves laser tag

Can beat Donnie at video games (if he didn't use cheat codes)

"sherlock_corn" is her handle online

Lives in an apartment/flat with her mom (showed onscreen briefly), that has its own bathroom

Has a subtly mentioned interest in fantasy, as noted by Donnie she tends to download fantasy rpgs and freaks out over cosplay wizards

Just an end note to all of you who aren't black, some offensive tropes I would stray from is making April the angry black girl. This is one of the most common stereotypes of black women in media. I wouldn't mistake April's passion or loudness for aggression. It would be a disservice to dilute her lively character into familiar but ultimately harmful tropes in media.

I am in no way saying you cannot portray April as angry, this is a powerful emotion and it should be explored with black characters, but I am saying that should not be the base of her character. Because well that's not even April's base. She's centered around fun and thrill-seeking.

Wikipedia (yes I know, But they have proven to be more dependable these past years) has a good article on the angry black woman stereotype, so that would a good place to start research on what to Avoid. In my splinter post I also provided some links on doing research on writing poc.

---

Anyway!!! We've ended our analysis trip of the main cast in s1. Next I'm thinking of picking apart our antagonists :]. Gonna take a break to work on my own fic, but stay tuned if you found any of my other posts helpful! It's been a fun ride with you all <3

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt april #rottmnt april o'neil #character analysis #writing #fan fic #long post #critter talks #she's the weird girl of all time #she's like lilo to me

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moongazeonastarfillednight · 7 months ago

Text

The Terror: When, How, Where... (PART 3)

See Part 1 (Intro, Episode 1 through 5)

See Part 2 (Episode 6 through 9)

1927 Admiralty Map (My beloved?)

To see the full map to interact with, click this link

List of Locations and approx dates:

Location 1 - David Young's grave (71.22, -96.60) - Sept 5 1846

Location 2 - Ships Position September 1846 (70.25, -98.00) - Sept 12 1846

Location 3 - Ships Position June 1847 (70.15, -98.30) - May 24 to Jun 11 1847

Location 4 & 5 - The Cairn and the Ice Camp (69.66, -98.27) - May 28 1847

Location 6- The Ships in January 1848 (70.055, -98.59) - January 10th- 17th 1848

Location 7- The Ships in April 1848 (69.88, -98.57) - April 22nd 1848

Location 8 - Fairholmes' Last Resting Place (69.72, -98.35) - April 23rd 1848

Location 9 - Terror Camp (69.644, -98.24) - April 24th-26th 1848

Location 10 - Netsilik Massacre (69.62, -98.05) - April 25th 1848

Location 11- Hodgson is found - Mutineers: (69.56, -98.06) - April 27th 1848

Location 12 - Hodgson is found – Crozier (69.54, -98.14) - April 27th 1848

Location 13 - Fitzjames Collapses (68.94, -98.79) - June 10th 1848

Location 14 - Gibson's death (68.860, -98.73) - June 27th 1848

Location 15 - Fitzjames' Death (68.78, -98.21) - July 28th 1848

Location 16 - The NorWest Passage (68.7, -98.06) - July 28th 1848

Location 17 - Hospital Camp (68.68, -97.74) - August 3rd

Location 18 – Bridgens' death (68.70, -97.95) - August 10th

Location 19/21 - Mutineer Camp (68.73, -97.99) - August 3rd

Location 20 - Crozier Ambushed (68.67, -97.84) - August 10th

Location 22 - Tulloch Point (68.56, -97.09) - October 5th - (Crozier) - August 30th (Little)

Location 23 - The Library (68.48, -96.58) - October 9th (Crozier) - September 9th (Little)

Location 24 - Todd island (68.44, -96.29) - October 9th (Crozier) - September 14th (Little)

Location 25 - Starvation Cove (68.24, -96.59) - October 10th (Crozier) - September 28th (Little)

Location 26 - Netsilik Summer Camp (68.66, -95.932) - Silna

Historical and documented locations are in blue

Proposed locations by Franklin Researchers in orange

Proposed locations by yours truly in pink

Historical locations but for which the show took liberties... in red

P.S I couldn’t take my own screenshot from the show so… I had to try and find the best matching image out there this time :(

On With the Show

Episode 10 - We Are Gone

Episode 10 is full of action and, thankfully, will not make me ramble too much until after Silna rescues Crozier. If we generously accept that the previous locations and date I gave are good (or good enough), then we’ll situate the first three quarters of the episode pretty easily.

So, for the end of our tragedy, we start in a place we’ve been before;

Location 19 - Mutineer’s Camp (68.73, -97.99)

Date: August 16th 1848

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 17h 26 min

Twilight -6h 34 min

Sunrise: 3:51 am, Sunset: 9:17 pm

The Episode starts with Hickey “welcoming” Crozier into his camp and we learn a clue about the date. “It’s a Wednesday”, followed, back at Hospital Camp, by Lt. Little who let us know that it has been a day since Crozier was taken by Des Voeux and Co.

So, the first question I have is: Did Des Voeux camp out the night? With what tent and what supply? They did not appear to have dragged anything with them. Perhaps they walked all night but that would have made for a very slow walk, probably, since we established that the Mutineers had camped only 6 miles away from the Hospital Camp and we’ve established previously that a slow pace for walking would be around 2mph.

Let’s address the first point. “It’s a Wednesday”. Well, my friends, I had previously placed Crozier’s being ambushed on August 10th and… that’s a thursday.

Therefore, I need to make a revision to Part 2, I’m afraid… I am not overly worried about this, however. I had based my timeline with very large stroke and I could either adjust that everything happens 2 days earlier that I previously said it would or 5 days later. Considering that the Tuunbaq battle happens during twilight and ends just as the sun is about the rise, and that was a couple of days later, I would be inclined to move everything forward 5 days. This would also give more “nighttime” for Hodgson to annoy Goodsir with his Catholic story… But also, this would explain why LeVesconte was feeling desperate enough to propose abandoning the ill, again. Time is flying by and they’re just… sitting… in that camp…

Therefore! Crozier comes into the Mutineer Camp on August 16th :) and we’re moving the day of Bridgens’ death on August 15th.

August 16th would also become the end for Mr. Goodsir.

And we are BACK at Hospital Camp for Le Vesconte little mutiny and, I have to say, I was so, so proud of Edward Little for trying to do the right thing… in a situation when there are no right decisions...

Location 17 - Hospital Camp (68.68, -97.74)

Date: August 16th 1848

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 17h 26min

Twilight - 6h 34 min

Sunrise: 3:50 am, Sunset: 9:16 pm

From Le Vesconte’s summary of their decision, this is also the day they leave Hospital Camp and, therefore, the day of Jopson’s death :(

Location 21 - Tuunbaq Battle (68.67, -97.84)

Date: August 18th 1848

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 17h 07 min

Twilight -6h 53 min

Sunrise: 4:00 am, Sunset: 9:06 pm

This is the next day, August 17th to August 18th (Tuunbaq dies shortly before the sun rises).

Twilight would start at 9:19 pm but we started the day with a Goodsir breakfast and the question I would like to ask is this:

Did Hickey just wait until like… midnight to get them to start pulling that sledge? It looks like they did not come directly from the camp but from a little bit further away and maybe they chose to come at it from that angle because of the slope… Anyway, I’ll propose that, yes Hickey chose to wait until midnight to make them start pulling, making the battle happen on August 18th!

This would also mean that it would have taken almost 18 hours for Goodsir’s poison to take effect?

We’ll mark the location as the same as the Mutineer’s camp since they are so close to one another.

And now:

Crozier Recovers

Location 19 - Mutineer’s Camp (68.73, -97.99)

Date: October 2nd 1848

Nighttime - 6h 20 min

Daylight - 10h 56 min

Twilight - 6 h44 min

Sunrise: 6:52 am, Sunset: 5:48 pm

The timeline for an amputation’s recovery are what I’ll need to use to check on when it is that Crozier can walk again.

Let’s start with the stump: I note that when Crozier announces to Silna his intention to try and find his men, the stump doesn’t have any kind of coverings. Meaning it would have been closed or scared well enough to not need it anymore.

(PS Looking for a screenshot of when he wakes up)

As you can imagine I haven’t found a lot of information on the web concerning how long an amputation would take to heal if it was made in the middle of the arctic wilderness with a hunting knife and no modern medical care… But there are some beautiful papers out there about how amputation being so ancient (31 000 years ago) proved that caring for our ill was very much a way of life even back then. Anyway, according to Myhealth.Alberta.ca, a below the knee amputation would take up to 4 to 8 weeks to be able to return to work with modern care… it took Mr. Blanky a measly 2 weeks of recovery before he could walk the half mile between Terror and Erebus after his own amputation and damn, if this is not the proof that Mr. Blanky was the GOAT.

Mr. Blanky also had the advantage of being cared for by a doctor (although, 19th century Doctor…), which Crozier does not. Based on this, I will accept that it would be reasonable for Crozier, who lives in the same world of superhumans as Thomas Blanky, might have needed the full 4 weeks to recover. At least.

We also know from our analysis of some hair growth for episode 9 that it takes 1 month to grow half an inch of beard. Honestly, I’d say this looks like at least 1 month and a half growth…

Also, to find out the approximate date, Crozier tell us that it’s “too late” to be this far North. No doubt he means that they are most certainly veering into the colder months and that he knows that if they would need to reach the Netsilik winter camp soon. It’s definitely not August anymore.

Finally, we know that the endgame is, I assume, Starvation Cove (See location 25). Starvation Cove, we know,

I am going a little bit ahead of myself, I know, but I feel this is important to establish the timeline because Starvation Cove is a known location, I do not need to guess where it is. I can already calculate that it is, when taking the probably path the survivors took (based on the 1927 admiralty map), 50 miles away from the Hospital Camp.

We established, at the end of part 2, that the speed they would have gone at would have been about 1 mile per day. Maybe after dropping the desks and so many tents (there was only one boat in Little’s last camp), they could have gained a little bit of speed. Let’s say 1.5 miles per day. This would mean that if they were going at their best pace, they could have reached Starvation Cove in a month.

And, then, they would have had to stop, too exhausted to move on,and they would have known hunger enough to resort to the last ressource…

I also want to point out that there is a fine layer of snow on the tents and the crates when Crozier reaches it. And there is frost on Poor Lt. Little’s face. So, here is the thing about snow: it melts when exposed to the sun at near freezing temperature, if it had fallen on surfaces that will absorb heat. In order for the frost to have remained on Edward’s face and for the barrels to be frost and snow covered (lightly), my canadian nose tells the temperature may have been closer to 23F (-5C) than at freezing (32F or 0C). Which would be average for the beginning of October (according to timeanddate.com) rather than September.

I think I will accept that even though Blanky, bless his face, recovered from an amputation in 2 weeks, it could have taken Crozier 6 or 7 weeks and based on the time one would need to travel to Starvation Cove (probably 1 week for Crozier and Silna if we account for Crozier’s recovering speed I would like to established at 10 miles per day and also accounting for the fact that he looked MUCH improved by the time they reached Starvation Cove, which requires time) and between 30 to 40 days for Little, this would be the right timeframe for the travel and starvation to occur...

This would date Crozier and Silna’s departure from the Mutineer’s Camp around October 2nd

And now, Crozier and Silna gets on their way to the next stop:

Location 17 - Hospital Camp (68.68, -97.74)

Date: October 2nd 1848

Nighttime - 6h 20 min

Daylight - 10h 58 min

Twilight - 6 h42 min

Sunrise: 6:50 am, Sunset: 5:47 pm

The hospital camp being, as established, 6 miles from the Mutineer camps, they would have made it there on the first day. And probably around noon if they had started to walk at first light. Crozier would have been slower than Silna and may have been able to walk only 10 to 15 miles per day. For the first couple of days, I expect that he could have walked closer to 10 miles than 15. I also would like to think that he would have taken the time to bury Jopson, making him the Gladman Point Skeleton (NdLe-16)

Location 22 - Tulloch Point (68.56, -97.09) (Not shown in show)

(Crozier)

Date: October 5th 1848

Nighttime - 6h 44 min

Daylight - 10h 41 min

Twilight - 6 h35 min

Sunrise: 6:54am, Sunset: 5:27 pm

(Lt Little)

Date: August 30th 1848

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 15h 22 min

Twilight - 8 h38 min

Sunrise: 4:46 am, Sunset: 8:08 pm

On their way to Starvation Cove, they would have had to cross Douglas Bay, a 3 miles wide little bay near the southern part of KWI. It’s 26 miles from the Mutineers Camp (Which Crozier departed on October 2nd) and 20 miles from the Hospital Camp (Which Lt. Little departed on August 16th)

At a recovering pace of 10 miles per day for Crozier/Silna, they would have reached Douglas Bay at the end of their 3rd day of walking and I suspect that even though they sitll had some miles in them, they would have started fresh the next morning to cross the bay (Oct 6th).

At an average pace of 1.5 miles a day, Little and Le Vesconte would have reached Douglas Bay in 14 days and probably would have waited until the beginning of the 15th day to cross.

Location 23 - The Library (68.48, -96.58)

(Crozier)

Date: October 9th 1848

Nighttime - 7h 32 min

Daylight - 10h 01 min

Twilight - 6 h 27 min

Sunrise: 7:11 am, Sunset: 5:13 pm

(Lt Little)

Date: september 9th 1848

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 14h 00 min

Twilight - 10 h 00 min

Sunrise: 5:19 am, Sunset: 7:19 pm

This is the place where Little and Le Vesconte dropped all the books, what looks to be a desk and 2 side tables? (one would think that they’d have left that behind before Jopson :( )

I think that at this point they are getting much closer to the southernmost point of KWI, Booth Point. For 2 reasons: 1- Crozier seems to have recovered enough to be walking straight and without much difficulty and with enough strength to help pull Silna’s sled and 2- You can see they are close to the strait, like, right next to it. Which means that they would have been making ready to cross, which could be the reason why this is where they abandoned all the non essentials. If Little and Co crossed in mid-september, as the timeline I supposed when discussing Crozier’s recovery would lead me to believe, they would have crossed on thin ice, making it more necessary than ever to lighten the load. And because I started this journey to figure out how to reconcile the show with the locations of where relics were found, I think I would like this to be quite near River Piffer… you know… not too far from where they would have buried Le Vesconte… And we have for location 23 (68.48, -96.58)

I think Le Vesconte and Little would have rushed to cross Douglas Bay as to not be on ice when it is not cold enough yet to assure them it wouldn’t crack under their weight. They would probably have pushed to cross on the same day, making it a whooping 3 miles in one day. This would certainly have exhausted the men, bringing them closer to their demise. They would cross on August 31st, and start again on September 1st for the remaining 10 miles until location 23, probably at a slightly slower pace of 1.25 miles a day and reached the Library on September 9th.

TO BE NOTED: since 2009, the skeleton found and believed to be Le Vesconte by C.F. Halls in 1869 has been reidentified as Harry Goodsir. But! Well! You know!

Location 24 - Todd island (68.44, -96.29) (Not shown in show)

(Crozier)

Date: October 9th 1848

Nighttime - 7h 33 min

Daylight - 10h 01 min

Twilight - 6 h26 min

Sunrise: 7;10 am, Sunset: 5:12 pm

(Lt Little)

Date: September 14th 1848

Nighttime - 1h 22 min

Daylight - 13h 20 min

Twilight - 9 h18 min

Sunrise: 5:37 am, Sunset: 6:57 pm

The Route to Starvation Cove: I am still going to take from the 1927’s admiralty map there and accept that they crossed the Simpson Strait near Todd Island. One of the reason why I would agree with it is because their goal was to get to Back Fish River. Upon reaching Booth Pt, they might have realised that, well, that’s it. That’s the end of KWI. There is no land bridge connecting it to the Adelaide Peninsula. At that point, they had to cross but, before that? Well, they maybe had a chance that they could have kept pulling their sledge on firm ground and not attempt what might have been a frozen strait or a dangerous trek on unstable ice, especially in september. They would have attempted to cross at the nearest point possible from the river they were trying to get to. So, instead of simply crossing at the narrowest part of the Simpson Strait, they kept on going until they were facing Todd Island

Todd Island is 7.5 miles from the Library.

If we say that unloading their boat made the pace easier and back at 1.5 miles per day, then, Little would have reached this point in 5 days on September 14th and Crozier and Silna on the same day as they reached the Library, October 9th.

Location 25 - Starvation Cove (68.24, -96.59)

(Lt Little)

Date: September 28th 1848

Nighttime - 5h 46 min

Daylight - 11h 29 min

Twilight - 6 h45 min

Sunrise: 6:31 am, Sunset: 6:00 pm

(Crozier)

Date: October 10th 1848

Nighttime - 7h 44 min

Daylight - 9h 55 min

Twilight - 6 h21 min

Sunrise: 7;14am, Sunset: 5:09 pm

We know where this is :(

The thing about Starvation cove is that if we accept that Franklin’s men crossed at Todd Island, they would have been going SW when they should have been going SE to reach Back Fish River.

I would like to suggest that upon knowing that they would have to cross a large expense of ice in mid september ( which could have been potentially perilous as the ice was probably made fragile by the summer and it was not cold enough yet to secure the way), they… simply chose to go toward the point of land they could see. Which was this cute little point. From there, they followed its coast until their last stand.

Now, more daunting than anything, this is a monstrous 9 miles to cross. For Lt. Little and his unfortunate companions who I’ve recently reduced to a pace of 1.5 miles a day, this would have meant they needed 6 days to cross at that pace! I think they would have deemed it too dangerous and would have pushed, same as they did for Douglas Bay and made it 2.5 miles a day (crossing in 4 days - Sept 18). Once again, this would have taken from their reserves all their reserves and they would have slowed down to 1.2 miles a day until they reached Starvation cove, 7 miles away from their initial landing on the Adelaide Peninsula. From Todd Island to their last resting place, they would have walked another 10 days. It is September 28th 1848 and they have been hauling the boats for 5 months. They total mileage would have been between 150 and 170 miles with my proposed route from Terror Camp to Starvation cove.

Crozier and Silna would have been able to cross and reach Starvation Cove in a day, reaching it on October 10th, 12 days after Lt. Little and what was left of the crew.

OTHER LOCATIONS

Location 26 - Netsilik Summer Camp (68.66, -95.932)

For this one, I want to believe it is Gjoa Haven.

From Terror Camp, this would have been a 100 miles journey for Silna. If she took her time and made a comfortable 10 miles a day, she would have walked from TC to GH in 10 days or so. 2 weeks. But she probably footed it because it seems like she wanted her people to help, in some capacity, the Frankliners (which prompted the unnamed Netsilik hunter to lecture her on how the white men were disturbing the balance on the island)

Then, from Gjoa Haven to the Mutineer’s camp, it would have been 50 miles. If she had left with the other shaman the day Crozier got ambushed, august 15th (as it seems to be implied by the fact that the scene announcing her travel companion was ready to go being just after Tom Hartnell’s death), she would have made it just in time to save Crozier 3 days later on August 18th by walking 15 to 20 miles a day, which is a moderate pace for a hiker.

So, this coincidence comforts me into thinking that, yes, their summer camp WAS in Gjoa Haven : )

Which is to say, had her journey been continuous, she would have made it to the same destination as the men of Franklin in only 30 days or so...

It took Little 150 days to reach Starvation Cove…

Women are stronger?

Location 27 - Netsilik Winter Camp (???)

I don't even want to attempt this. There are no clues whatsoever as to where they might be. They also deserve a little bit of privacy!

That’s it! That’s the end! We’ve made it, friends! All 10 episodes!

For Part 4, I will attempt to correct the dates I retroactively changed from part 1 to part 2 and then from part 2 to part 3 and package all of this in a neat presentation that would be more digestible than this wall of rambling.

I will take my time to complete part 4 and review everything so I might upload it in a week's time or so, maybe more.

I rushed Part 1 through 3 so that it could get out of my head and you all paid the price for how much rambling there is ;) sorry!

Thank you for reading so far! This was a blast even though I felt like I was losing my mind quite a bit!

#the terror #the terror amc #the terror timeline #This was a MARATHON #Episode 10 #19th Century dead sailors #Reference #Maps and stuff #Hopes it helps someone else!

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peachhcs · 11 months ago

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hughes!sister x will smith au ✰

→ samy hughes x will smith

or childhood best friends to lovers

→ mood board & masterlist

★ ☆ au background + timeline ★ ☆

they're family friends + have known each other since they were babies

they were always close, but they didn't start getting closer until will moved to michigan for his development program in summer of 2021 (also when samy met gabe, ryan, drew, etc.)

the guys don't believe will at first when he tells them he knows samy hughes & beg him to meet her (i assume she's fairly known because of her brothers)

samy and will grow a lot closer during those two years and by her senior year of high school and will's last year of ntdp they realize they may have feelings for one another after playing it off as a brother and sister relationship

will realizes his feelings in october when him and some of the guys see samy off for her senior homecoming

samy realizes her feelings a few months later in april when her and her friends decide to bring the guys to their prom since they don't get that experience

after prom, the two don't see one another for months because will is constantly traveling for hockey that whole summer, but they're still constantly texting and calling

they reunite at the draft in nashville! the entire hughes family is there supporting will

at the draft, samy and will realize that their relationship is changing

the confession doesn't come out until will's draft party that night

they're both nervous and afraid to ruin their friendship, so they deicide to give themselves a grace period where they can go on a few dates and see how it goes and if it goes horrible, nothing is ruined between them

obviously it goes well and they decide to start dating!

→ samy hughes:

samy (samantha) poppy hughes

younger sister to luke, jack, and quinn

she's very close with her brothers and they all have a two year age gap

birthday is january 17th, 2005!

she's 16 when will moves to michigan for ntdp and is now 18 in college about to be 19!

she played hockey growing up wanting to be like her brothers and was very good on the ice (still is)

switched to soccer full time sophomore year (10th grade) and now plays at the university of michigan

is roommates with dylan's (fake) younger sister, hannah which is a bit of full circle since luke was roommates with dylan at umich

luke's michigan friends love her and take her under their wing as their own little sister — especially ethan and mark

samy loves going to the yost for every home game as well as watching will's games on her computer whenever bc plays

even though she doesn't play hockey regularly anymore, she still loves the sport and will always have a special place in her heart for it

she becomes one of the best freshman on the soccer team her first year and helps lead the team to the ncaa finals for the first time in awhile. she wins her first national title her 2nd year!

our girl is ridiculously smart with a near 4.0 majoring in political science! will admires her so much how she can balance everything

she's about half a foot shorter than will and she always teased him when they were younger how taller she was before he had his growth spurt

she goes for earthy tones

she's very outgoing + extroverted + loves talking. she can and will talk will's ear off at any given time

will calls her "pretty girl" the most

→ will smith

younger brother to grace

they have a close relationship and will goes to her when he needs relationship advice (he did this a lot when he first realized he liked samy)

birthday is march 17th, 2005!

he's 16 when he moves to michigan for ntdp and is now 18 in college

he's been playing hockey since he could walk and would always play with quinn, jack, and luke when they were younger

he's now a forward at boston college and was drafted 4th overall for the san jose sharks

he's roommates with his best friend, gabe perreault

he loved going to samy's soccer games in high school and would always drag the guys with him and now he still loves watching her games online

he fell first and harder (gabe and ryan knew will liked her before will knew himself)

very much golden retriever energy

he's constantly calling and texting samy throughout the day to update her about his life at bc

will's a bit more introverted when it comes to new people he doesn't really know, so samy always does all the talking when they're together and he just enjoys sitting or standing beside her while smiling and nodding along

his clothes are her clothes whenever they're together, especially over the summers when they spend time together with their families

he likes neutral colors and doesn't wear bright ones unless samy picks out clothes for him or she suggests it (literally does whatever she says and the guys always tease him for it)

samy likes calling him "pretty boy" or "willie"

→ quick authors note:

hi! i'm joining the hockey bandwagon and writing my own au :) i know i sort of wrote a lot here, but i've got a lot of lore for these two and a lot of short blurbs written already to start publishing soon. i'm also open to requests for them and any of your own ideas too!! send things in & i hope you guys like this new au. p.s. i'm not an expert in hockey, but i'll try not to get anything wrong when writing, but bare with me :))

#will smith hockey #samy x will #boston college #uofmichigan #hughes!sister x will smith au #ice hockey #luke hughes #quinn hughes #jack hughes #samy hughes #will smith x oc #umich hockey #will smith imagine #bc hockey #boston college hockey

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theclaravoyant · 5 months ago

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AN ~ prompted myself bathena + a kiss to the stomach! fluff / h/c

They're lying in bed and Bobby is restless. Athena can feel his discomfort buzzing at her like a mosquito, even though physically, he's actually stayed quite still.

“Bobby,” she murmurs. “You're thinking out loud tonight. Everything alright?”

“It's probably nothing,” he says.

“But it might be something?” She raises an eyebrow, turning ever so slightly from her book, and Bobby sighs.

“I think I'm getting old, Athena.”

“If this is about you starting to notice the grey hairs, I'm afraid I have to inform you that ship has sailed.”

He almost laughs at that, but his eyes are too serious. Athena casts the book aside and shifts against her pillows, turning her whole body toward him to give him her full attention.

“What happened? Tough case?”

“Increasingly. I feel like the universe is throwing high rises at me just to see if my back or my knees will give out first. But no. We were caught in a chemical fire for a minute and it was when we were changing afterwards I noticed – I think I'm starting to get a bit... flabby.”

She almost laughs, and looks up to the sky for strength, because she loves this man but how can he not see he's been setting himself up for this ?

“Compared to whom? Mr Brown Rice Pasta Isn't That Bad, Mr Works Out To Cope, or Mr April 2019?”

He blushes a little at that, feeling foolish, and Athena brushes a hand through his soft hair.

“Baby,” she croons. “You do realise you've surrounded yourself with supermodels? That's just not you, and that's okay.”

He shakes his head.

“Sure, it's been a long time since I was a young – well, Buck,” he acknowledges, “and I've always had a bit more meat on my bones. I know that. It's not that. I just don't remember being this floppy. Feels like I've let myself go.”

“No,” she corrects him with a frown. “Jack Daniels and Percocet is you letting yourself go. This – baby – this is you happy.”

She trails a finger over the crows feet that pull at his eyes. Stress, yes, but laughter too.

“This is you no longer blaming yourself for every damn breath you take,” she reminds him, and her hands move down to the liver spots that are creeping their way over his shoulders, and just barely peeking out of the collar of his pyjama top.

“This is you getting to grow old even though you thought you never would,” she narrates.

Her hands wind down to his hips, and he mumbles uncertainly, and she pinches him there, just a little.

“And this - Bobby, my love - this sweet little muffin top is you, married and comfortable and in love. My silver fox. And you don't see me complaining.”

She lifts the bottom of his shirt and presses a kiss there, right by his belly button. Right where she can feel him - finally, just a little – laugh.

#athena grant x bobby nash #bathena #tv: 911 #911 fic #clara's fic tag #prompt me stuff

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abibliophobiaa · 2 years ago

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Evermore - e.m x f!reader/ s.h x f!reader

summary: Eddie loved you, he still loves you, but he’s not the man he was before.

tags/warnings: Kas!Eddie/Vampire Eddie, angst, fluff, implied sexual content, character death, bittersweet ending, allusion to pregnancy (very brief, if you squint).

relationships: Eddie Munson x Afab!Reader, Steve Harrington x Afab!Reader.

song suggestions (in order): lovely by billie eilish; evermore by josh groban; beautiful boy (darling boy) by john lennon

Eddie…well, he remembers.

He remembers those before moments clearly.

Those times of togetherness. Of you and him side by side in his bedroom, hands tied together, whispering confessions of love. Of your words, spinning in his mind, as you whisper stories to him in the night, your fingers in his hair and his around your waist.

He can still see your face.

The way you smile at him, the faces you make when you’re hurt, happy, when you’re overwhelmed with pleasure. He can see them all. They’re clear as day still, as if they’re happening at present, an endless repeat in the back of his mind as he hunts—as he kills.

Because he’s no longer Eddie Munson.

No.

There's this otherness now. The mind he shares with this thing that resides in him. The monster. The creature that lurks in the shadows, that whispers of a deeper need, tells him to feed. The part of him that is enhanced, vision stronger, scent more refined, his hearing powerfully adept.

It’s the parts of him he’s most afraid of.

And yet he finds you that April evening, sitting before a little makeshift headstone in an open forest. You speak into the open air like you believe someone hears you, like someone’s listening.

He is, he supposes. He always is.

You’re sitting beside his Uncle Wayne, your head hung low, tears falling into decaying earth.

The world is full of rot now.

Hawkins is in four, and your heart is in two, and Eddie hides in the shadows because it’s best for the one.

He should be happy, he reminds himself, that the spirit of Henry, of Vecna, allows him these moments.

These moments of reprieve where his mind is his and he remembers all the things of his before—of a life that seems far away now.

A mere distant memory.

“I miss him.” Your words carry in the wind and curl around him, beckon him forth, but he never ventures further.

He’s not the man you knew.

Not anymore—never again.

His fingers long to touch you.

To reach out and grasp your hand as he watches from a distance when May burns bright.

You’re at the movies today with Dustin, Steve and Robin. You tip your head back in a laugh as they speak to you, but he knows it’s fake.

There’s a forced nature to the way you hold yourself. Your smile never quite reaches your eyes, the way you shift awkwardly on the spot, how you glance off into the distance.

You try and play it off as sincere, but Eddie knows.

You tell them you had fun, that you can’t wait for next time, that you’re happy you got to spend this time with them.

But when they’re gone, when you’ve returned to your home and creep up the stairs to your bedroom, Eddie sees through it all.

The way your forehead presses against your window, how you search into the distance in the way you used to when you were together. Longing, searching, begging for more.

You cry.

You cry so much lately and he wishes he could take that from you—this endless pain that sucks the life from you.

He misses you.

Gosh, he misses you so much.

But the shadows call, and he answers.

It’s safer this way.

You fell in love quickly, like many often do.

The first date was at the local diner, thighs slicked from nervousness and the summer heat against red vinyl, hearts all fluttery from excitement, his words a fumbled mess from his mouth because you were so pretty and he’d been wanting to ask you out for ages.

And with you there sitting across from him, all he could think was that, and he blurted out how pretty you are and his cheeks stained red because you bit your lip and averted your gaze and he assumed the whole thing was over.

But later that night it was all strawberry flavored kisses at your front doorstep, him nervous at first and you with this dangerous glint in your eye. He’d fall for it every time, and he told you as much, his forehead dropping down against yours to pull away and press a kiss to the tip of your nose.

He asked you, a little breathless, bitten with nervousness, “You wanna do this again sometime?”

And his heart felt like it had been punched in the best way when you’d crinkled your nose affectionately against his and whispered back, “Make out…or another date?”

“Both?” His stomach did that thing where it dropped out beneath him, but he’d thrown all caution to the wind at this point, because he liked you and you liked him and what a beautiful thing to know.

It was a summer love, Wayne had teased, as the weeks slipped on by in the lazy July heat. You spent nearly every day together, whether it was walking around town with ice cream cones in hand, hands stained vanilla and chocolate and rainbow colored sprinkles because you always talked for too long they started to melt, or in the back of his van at Lover’s Lake with a rolled joint shared between the two of you and nothing but time, hours spent in his bedroom where you talked until the moon grew high above the sky and a new day crept and you revealed all your thoughts and deepest secrets, a drive in movie with his friends from the band, where he’d introduced you as his girlfriend for the first time.

He immediately panicked, face hot and red, but you never corrected him. Instead, as the colors from the screen danced in the other boy’s eyes and they were distracted for a bit, you leaned over and kissed his cheek, and told him you accepted.

After that it was the kick start of his heart that first time he’d snuck through your bedroom window. Climbed up your trellis and nearly woke the neighbors as he careened into the room, leaves and other brush sticking out every which way from his hair. You’d giggled, all lyrical and bright, warning him he needed to be quiet. ‘Cause your parents were down the hall and you didn’t want to wake them, but you also really wanted to do this.

He wasn’t sure what to do, mentioned as much, just as you slipped your tank top from your shoulders and bared yourself to him. And he’d whispered a silent prayer, a curse under his breath, as he leaned forward and kissed you slowly, soundly, sweetly, walking you backward until you clambered across the bed and flopped down onto your back, staring up at him with a look in your eyes he’d never seen before.

But it was all for him, and relished in it as you whispered you loved him for the first time.

And what a beautiful thing, because no one had ever told him they loved him before. Not like that, not in the way one gives you a part of themselves, not as you handed your heart to him and he gave his right back.

Soon it was all pretty sighs and gasped moans against his mouth. It was hot flesh revealed as you helped rid himself of his clothes before he worked your shorts and underwear down your thighs, a hand curling around your kneecap as his hips settled against yours. It was a whimper and a plea of, “Need you, Eddie,” and a muffled cry as he pressed your head into his shoulder to stay quiet and slid inside inch by blessed inch for the first time.

And as he loved you in the night, closer than the two of you had ever been before, he promised himself it was forever.

Felt the first flicker of it deep within his chest as you shattered around him, babbling his name and telling him you loved him over and over and over again like a mantra.

Resigned himself to the fact you had all of him after he rolled off of you and opened his arms so you could crawl into them and fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

Whispered it to you against the crown of your head, even though you slept soundly against him, and reminded you in the morning when you leaned up and kissed him and told him how happy you were to be with him, and watched your face as it lit up, because you felt the same.

You still wear the ring he gave you, back at the boathouse, back when you slept under a tarp and prayed someone would take away the burden of Chrissy’s death and the public scrutiny—the allegations that the man you loved was, in fact, a murderer, the threat of Vecna looming closer and closer every day.

He sees it one night as he stands in the trees outside your bedroom, the glint of silver on your ring finger.

He’d given it to you the night before Patrick’s death, said he wanted to marry you after all was said in done, said you were two kids who were probably too young to be thinking about marriage, but he knew it didn’t matter if it was now or years from now because the person he wanted at the end of it all would always be you.

You cried and nodded your head, and he laughed through his own tears and pushed the ring up onto your finger, one of his that had been small enough to fit. He pulled your hand up to his mouth to press a kiss there.

Forever then, you were going to be together forever.

In the end though, you only get a few days.

He breaks your heart and it breaks his because he promises you till he’s old and gray but only days later he watches you from below as you scream his name and sob for him to come back.

It breaks his heart as he cuts that rope dangling through your two worlds and your cries bleed into Dustin’s as he rushes from the trailer and gets on that damn bike.

It breaks his heart because you and Dustin somehow find him anyway at the end of it all, sobbing into his broken body as he pushes your hair from your face and tries to make you smile, even though he knows you’re splitting down the center.

It breaks his heart to watch your hands as they hover over the parts of him that are no longer whole and only bleed, because you want to keep him alive, want to keep your love alive. But there’s so much blood, there’s too much, and even he understands that he’s running out of time.

You’re telling him you love him over and over and over again and he asks you to tell him about your future. And you whisper against his bloody lips through salty tears that, “We’ll…we’ll have a little house with a l-little porch swing so we can sit and you can read to me every night. We’ll adopt a dog—our little O-Ozzy. And you’ll call me w-wife and I’ll call you husband, and maybe someday we’ll do something crazy like have a kid. One with…your hair and your eyes and your heart, because the world needs more of you. And when they’re all grown up, and they m-move out and have families of their own, you’ll still sit with me every night on that swing. You’ll tell me you l-love me and I’ll tell you I love you because…because there’s no reality I want without a forever with you in it.”

He smiles even though you whimper against him because he feels so happy and of all the things he’s done in life, all the adventures he’s gone on, all the choices that have led him here, you’re his favorite.

It makes it less scary, as his vision grows darker and darker and his life bleeds into the ground beneath him, knowing you’re the light to guide his path.

It does little to change the fact he’ll miss you forever when it finally grows dark.

You twist the ring now as you sit in your bedroom window, your knees pulled up to your chest. He sees the way your face crumples as you hold your hand close to your frame, just over your heart, and submit to your tears.

He hates himself, because in this new body he is cursed with a forever, and he’s cursed with a reality with no you in it.

And in the night, with nothing but your image just feet away from him and the moon to keep you both company, he cries, too.

Your first close call comes when the summer bleeds into fall.

Vecna finds a new vessel, his powers grow once more, and the Upside Down bleeds into Hawkins.

But there are those brave enough to fight back, and it comes as no surprise that you’re one of those people.

He watches from a distance, a shadow in the night, a guardian to keep you safe, because it’s the only way he can have you, even if it’s not in the way he wants.

You and the group you grew close with that last week of his life are in the streets of a now broken Hawkins, fighting off a monster that walks on all fours and has a mouth like a venus flytrap—a gaping maw of rows full of gore-slick teeth.

He knows its name. Demogorgon. He feeds off them, walks the same lands they do.

He is not part of the hive.

He’s special, that voice whispers to him sometimes, he’s a most remarkable creation. He’s a monster.

He feels the pull of that other world.

The voice calling his name as the demogorgon grows a little too close to you growls and leaps.

He screams in his mind and the monster’s head turns, turns toward him and in its momentary distraction you slide a knife into its head just before Steve whirls around with a nail studded bat and watches it bleed and die against the ground.

“What’s wrong?” He hears Steve ask you, catching your eyes staring directly in Eddie’s direction. “Are you hurt?”

Steve’s eyes scour your body for any injury, his hands coming to rest on your arms, but you’re fine.

Eddie made sure of it.

Robin turns as well to see what’s going on, Nancy using her shoulder for support, hand cupping a wound on her side.

But he’s hidden in the shroud of night.

That voice whispers his name again, and he knows he has to go back to the place where the sky is always red, but he lingers just a moment longer to hear you start to walk closer, your head tilting to the side, eyes straining to see.

“I just thought…” Your voice trails off in the wind. It’s been so long since he’s heard it, he’s almost forgotten what it sounds like. “Nevermind.”

You're hurt, and there are no beds in the hospital.

You’re hurt, attacked by a demogorgon, so it’s not like they can bring you there anyway. Too many questions, too many risks involved.

You’re hurt, and he watches from a distance as Steve and Nancy bind the wounds on your side with whatever scraps of fabric they have in their backpacks, snow beneath you blooming red like flower petals around you.

You’re hurt and he watches as Steve lifts your weak body from the ground, your eyes closed and limbs slack. He tries to not think about the way you already look gone from this side of earth, tries to picture your smiling face in his mind, because you’ll be okay.

You have to be.

You’re hurt and he follows from a distance as they take you back to Steve’s house, because his parents are gone and you’ll be able to rest up there. Eddie watches through the trees as Steve lays you down in his bed and murmurs with Robin and Nancy, his face furrowing in worry at the sight of you unconscious in his bed.

Eddie ignores the call of the Upside Down beckoning him back home.

Because all his mind can focus on is that you’re hurt, you’re hurt, you’re hurt.

He ignores the voice of Vecna and shoves him into the catacombs of his mind as he climbs into the tree outside Steve’s window and watches for days as you slip in and out of consciousness, towels on your forehead, as you fight off fevers. Steve, Robin and Nancy watch you in shifts, sitting at your side in vigil.

Sometimes the kids do, too, with their hand around your own and mouths moving as they talk to you, as they remind you of all the reasons why it’s too soon for you to go.

One afternoon, he hears Steve and Robin sitting outside on the lounge chairs set up around the patio, Steve’s head in his hands and Robin’s hand on his shoulder as she says, “There was nothing you could do. She knew what she was getting into.”

“But if she dies—if she dies…that’s two in less than a year. I can’t—I can’t lose them both.” If Eddie had a heart, he knows it would ache, because though their tentative friendship had been short, it had been meaningful.

He wishes he had more time to see what could have been.

“Eddie knew what he was doing, just like she did, too,” Robin reminds him. Her voice is low and she sounds broken. They both do. “You can’t carry around this guilt. It’s eating you alive. When did the doctor say they could get here?”

Steve’s breath is shaky as he says, “Tomorrow. They’re coming tomorrow. I just hope she makes it.”

It’s stupid.

Eddie knows it’s stupid, but under the cover of night, he slips out from the tree he’s hiding in and climbs up to Steve’s window. He climbs to where Steve has left it unlocked, always does to make it easy to slip out when his parents are home and the Party comes calling, and pushes in through the parted curtains.

His senses overwhelm him.

The smell of your sickness, the shallowness of your breath in and out of your weak lungs, the slow beat of your heart holding on beneath your ribcage.

There had been a time he’d fallen asleep to it, but now it only fills the cavity where his own organ used to beat with dread.

He reaches out to touch you, but you don’t feel like he remembers.

Your skin is slick and clammy, sweat clinging to the surface, body warm from your fever.

Your lips tremble in your fitful sleep, like you’re speaking, only no words come.

His fingers trail along your forehead, across the hair along your scalp, the curve of your ear.

His ears focus on your breath, the sound of your heart, and he tries to clear his mind of everything else.

Slips into that space he’s gone to only a few times before since becoming this thing he is now.

It’s dark there.

An endless sea of inky night that stretches endlessly on and he finds you there.

Feels the ground ripple near his feet as he walks over to where you sit on Steve’s bed.

In here, your body isn’t broken.

In here, there’s no sickness, no fever, no wounds staining through white bandages with your beautiful life.

Your head tilts up and his breath catches because you’re beautiful and it’s the closest he’s been to you in months.

And your face crumples as you look at him and jump off the bed, rushing over, hands pausing before touching him like you’re afraid you might hurt him—like you’re not sure he’s really there at all.

“Are you real right now? Am…”

“You’re not dead, sweetheart. I won’t let you go yet,” he tells you, bringing his arms around you to hold you close. His legs nearly buckle under the weight of the moment. You fold back into him as you always have, as if you’ve missed no time at all. He nearly chokes on a sob, feels you heave and crumble against him, noisy cries ripping from your throat. “I know, baby. I know.”

“You’re here.”

“I am,” he promises, cupping the back of your head.

“Am I dreaming?”

His chest cleaves in two as you look up at him, your eyes bloodshot, tears falling like glittering stars down your cheeks. His hands slide up to rest on either side of your face, thumbs brushing against your skin, mouth dropping kiss after kiss to your forehead.

“Something like it.”

“So you’re…”

“Yeah, still gone,” he tries to smile, but it makes your eyes water more, your hands shaking against his forearms as you reach up to touch him. “Unfortunately.”

“I love you,” you whisper the words and they sail in the wind in the world that lives in the in between.

“I love you, too,” he tells you. It hasn’t changed, and never will change. Time, space, and death will never erase that. “But I don’t have a lot of time. I need you to fight, okay? I need you to rest and heal. Think you can do that for me?”

“It hurts,” you say, and he knows you mean your mortal, wounded body.

“I know, I know it hurts. But there’s a doctor that’s going to come tomorrow and they’ll give you the medicine you need to kick that infection and patch you right up. I just need you to hold on till then. Think you can do that for me?”

His fingers trail down the side of your face, and somewhere in the vestiges of his mind he can feel your waking body relax, can feel your breathing deepen, your heartbeat strengthen.

“I want to go with you,” you tell him.

He shakes his head. “No. It’s not your time yet.”

Your head drops, and his stomach does along with it. “Will you come back?” Your words are a watery plea.

It's a sad sound that has his anguish exposed, raw anew.

“I’ll try, okay?” It’s the most he can offer you, and you nod slowly, sniffling on an inhale. “You’re going to live a long, long life, okay? I want you to do that for me.”

“I will, Eddie, I will,” you promise. You slide back into his arms, pressing your head against his chest, keeping him close.

“I can feel this place slipping from my mind,” he says, palm sliding up and down your back. “I love you. I’ll always love you.”

You dissolve like that, held safe and sound within his arms, there one moment and gone the next.

In waking, in the real world, when his eyes open and he’s back in Steve’s bedroom, he sees you there.

It’s then, blessedly and finally then, that you rest.

Before long, it’s Spring again.

The weather warms, but Eddie’s body never does. Dead things don’t have hearts that beat, they don’t have blood to circulate through their bodies. His chest rises and falls, sure, but that almost seems like an involuntary reflex of a life that feels more and more like a memory with every passing day.

You’re on Steve’s patio with the Harrington boy himself and Robin. You look more rested than he’s seen in a long while. He thinks to the night before, visiting you in your dreams, laughter in the air as he brought a vision back to your mind, one of the two of you sitting in a field back before the world grew dark, him with his head in your lap and your fingers in his hair, reading to him in an open field.

He hates leaving you at the end of it, hates it every time he has to go, and finds it grows harder and harder to do so every time.

But it’s not reality; he knows that.

He supposes eventually things will crash and burn, just as they always do; he just doesn’t expect it to happen so quickly.

One moment you’re sitting, laughing at something Robin has said, and the next he’s wincing as a twig snaps under his foot. The swear he lets out drives him to move, cursing his body for giving him supernatural hearing and smell, but not the speed he needs right now to outrun you.

Your feet pound in his ears, a thump that beats in tandem with your heart as you tear through Steve’s backyard and rush after him into the open street.

His insides tear in two the first time you call his name into the open air. It’s a cry, your voice shaking, tremulous like you can’t believe your sight.

He pushes faster, feet pumping beneath him, the echo of them a drumbeat. He needs to go. He needs to get far away. Run like hell, because you can’t see him.

Steve’s voice joins into the mix. A call of your name that sounds frantic in his ears. Steve cares for you. Eddie’s not blind to it; he’s grateful for it. Just like he’s grateful for it now, because your footsteps start to slow as Steve’s cries of your name grow louder.

“It’s Eddie,” you shout back, and Eddie rushes around a car and crouches down in your momentary distraction.

Catches sight of himself in a side door mirror, his reflection illuminated by the moon.

His eyes are dark and rimmed with shadow. Lines like little swirls beneath his bottom lashes, a telltale sign he needs to feed. And if he lifts his lip, like he does now, he sees those elongated canines.

He’s no longer human.

Hasn’t been for a while now.

You start to cry in your frustration. He hears your breath coming in rasping heaves, the way your voice breaks as Steve’s body collides with yours, how it wobbles as you tell him over and over again, “It’s Eddie, Steve.”

His eyes drift up to his face once more. The image looking back at him so unlike the boy you once knew.

Even if he would…even if he could, your Eddie is gone.

He’s gone, and he can never be again.

He can’t be what you need. He knows that for certain now.

Eddie crawls around the side of the car and catches the sight of Steve moving to curl his arms around your shoulders, forms illuminated in the street lamp, the way your face crumples against his chest as your cries grow hoarse. The pitiful way you whisper, “I saw him, Steve.”

But Steve’s honest.

He’s always been honest, and it shatters both you and Eddie when he says, “Eddie is gone. I’m so sorry, but he’s gone and I wish I could bring him back but I ca—”

His words break off at the end because you shove at him. Hands coming up to push Steve backward. He doesn’t flinch. Not as you shove him again and again and again as tears leak down your face.

Eddie wishes he could collect them all. Could ease the ache growing in your chest.

“Why would you say that?” Your voice is high and tight.

You shove at him again, body growing lax with your efforts. Feet wobbling, knees growing uneasy.

Steve remains firm, a strong tower, a shoulder to lean on in your time of need.

“I’m sorry, swee—”

“Don’t call me that. He called me that.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and holds his hands up in surrender.

“I hate you.” You shout it at him, and this time Steve does flinch.

You don’t mean it. Eddie knows you don’t. In a heart full of love such as yours, there’s never been room for it.

It breaks him even more.

Something on your face changes then. A flash of recognition flickers across your features. A slow, painful understanding sliding into place behind your eyes. Eddie wants to rush out, to hold you, to protect you from the utter despair that crashes over your form so suddenly. The way you practically fall into Steve and he’s there to catch you as you come crashing to the ground, howling with the anguish of what you start to sob into the man’s chest.

Of the reality you now understand. Maybe for the first time in the twelve months he’s been dead.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” he whispers. “I know.”

“He’s gone.”

Steve cups the back of your head.

Eddie’s hand curls into a fist.

“He’s gone.”

Steve pulls you into his lap, rocks you as your cries grow louder.

Eddie closes his eyes.

“He’s gone. He’s never coming back, Steve.”

Eddie watches your heart break all over again.

And he makes his decision.

He knows what he has to do.

You’re there, sitting in the center of your bed as always, when Eddie comes to you in the world that lives in the in between again.

After your close encounter with death, he’s come to visit you multiple times. Always in your dreams, in that land that’s always so dark, and yet it’s peaceful there. He can make it anything he wants to be, a horrifying ‘positive’ to being linked to Vecna.

Some nights you simply talk, your warm hand in his cold one, laying on your bed.

Others, you play cards, put together a puzzle, sing along to music because he misses it so much—if only to pretend like anything about this is normal.

Eddie doesn’t have a heart, not anymore, but if he did…he knows it would be racing because of what he knows he has to do.

This night is different; this night changes everything.

Your head lifts and your smile blooms as he fills your vision, his skin pale and unmarked from the bites that killed him, and it should have been your first realization that he’s not what he once was from when he first began visiting you in your sleep.

The man who died, the man who had closed his eyes and who slipped away your arms is not the same one standing before you now.

It’s why what once was can never be again.

It pains him to admit it.

In another world, another life, he would be selfish.

But he can’t.

He can’t fathom the idea of you aging when he stays forever twenty-one, can’t imagine losing you to time at the end of your life. He can’t think about it because doing so would break him.

And he can’t look at the pain in your eyes any longer. The way you always look to the woods, always searching for him, seeking out the boy who no longer is.

You need to move on, to flourish, to grow beyond this.

Your body crashes into his, your voice muffled by the front of his shirt. He’s always wearing the same thing, somehow never dirty, rid of his blood. “I missed you,” you breathe into him, into the chilliness of his body.

You never comment on it. He sometimes thinks you pretend it’s not real to preserve yourself from the pain of the ‘what if.’

He pulls his head back just enough to look down at you, and your mouth dips south. “I need to talk to you.”

“Okay…” You trail off as he settles down on your bed, his legs straight as you fold yours beneath your body where you sit beside him.

His fingers reach into the spaces between yours and lace within them. His next words, he thinks if he wasn’t already dead, might kill him. “I can’t feel you, baby.”

You brush your thumb along the back of his hand, mouth a wobbly pout as you say, “What do you mean? I can feel you right now. You’re…you’re right here.” You hold your interlocked fingers together in front of his face, trying to smile.

He leans forward and brushes his mouth near the corner of your lips. “I can feel you…but it’s like I’m hollow. Like I'm empty. You notice how I’m always cold now?”

You sniffle noisily, nodding. “It’s cold here, though.”

He brings your head closer to his chest. He presses your ear where proof of his life used to lay inside. Now it’s only silent.

Empty.

So fucking empty.

“Do you understand what I’m trying to say? Don’t make me say it, sweetheart, please.” He chokes on a cry as your hand slides up beside where your cheek rests, your head pulling back enough to look up at him. “Do you get it now? Do you get why it can only be like this here…in your dreams, in our dreams?”

“Eddie…”

“So here’s what you’re going to do, okay? You’re going to live. You’re going to do it to the fullest. Do all the stupid shit we didn’t get to do together. Travel the world. Try all the food. You’re going to move on, okay? I need to know you’re gonna be fine—”

“Eddie, no” you say, swallowing the sob threatening to spill from your mouth. “Just stay here.”

“This—this isn’t real.” The chair imagined the night before disappears from sight. Dissolves into nothing. The books sitting on the floor near your bed, the ones you’ve been reading to him, follow suit. One by one, the image he conjured up slips away. Little particles of light sifting and shifting into nothingness. “I can’t be what I was to you before. That future we dreamed up? I can’t do that. I can’t give you that. Not in this body, not like this. And I can’t…I can’t watch you grow up, can’t watch you and all our friends...please, shit, please d—”

Your hand comes up to rest on his cheek, and he finds you crying silently before him.

“I want you to live for me,” he says, brushing his lips against yours. One of the last kisses you’ll share. “I need you to promise me that. I need you to do all the things I can’t. Take pictures, go on adventures, read all the books, find new hobbies. I need you to experience the world, fall in love with it, fall in love again.”

You’re kissing him and he’s holding you close. His hands fist in your shirt and cling to you, like you’ll drift into the wind, like if he lets go you’ll flutter away. And in a way, you will.

It’s goodbye.

It’s the end of who you both were, who you wanted to be, and no longer can.

You whisper over and over again into his lips that you love him, that you’ll never forget him, that you’ll live for him.

He smiles into your skin and nods his head, his hand coming to rest against your chest.

You’re alive and you're real, you’re his and you’re also not.

Part of you always will be.

“I’ll miss you. I’ll always miss you,” Eddie tells you, his face moving to press into the side of your neck. He feels the shudder of your breath as you take in his words, as you understand the seriousness of them. His finger taps your chest and he laughs, but it’s a broken sound. “I’ll be right here.”

You don’t talk for a while. You rest in the unspoken understanding that this is the last time you'll be together.

It’s the last time you’ll feel his arms around you, the last time he’ll hold you like he planned on doing for the rest of his life.

He presses a kiss to your brow and feels you hug him tighter still as you lay beside him on your bed, legs tangling with his own, your fingers in his hair.

You kiss endlessly. Constant presses of skin against skin.

A thousand, for all the days you’ll be without. You kiss until you’re breathless and in the waking world the sun starts to creep up the waiting sky.

“Live, sweetheart, live,” he says against your skin, feeling you warm, feeling your body start to fade in the circle of his embrace.

“I love you,” you whisper, eyes lingering on his face as particles of light burst and dance around you. Just a few moments now. “I’ll always love you. And I’ll do what you asked. I’ll live, Eddie. I’ll do it for you.”

“I love you, too.”

He smiles, and light bursts behind his eyes.

When he wakes, the sky is red, but all he sees is your face.

He finds peace in that.

Vecna’s gone now. Has been for a while.

The world heals and rests, and the Upside Down chooses Eddie. The world that once was, full of dark skies and death, is now teeming with life.

He’s tied to it now, just as he was before, but more so now.

There’s a small gap in worlds, left open, that he ventures out of every so often to remind him of the place that seems almost foreign now.

He’s on a path he’s traveled many times now.

Not in some years, but he’s familiar all the same. The winding roads that lead to your family home bring him to your front lawn. There are two cars out front, one a familiar BMW, and beside it sits a newer, bigger SUV.

The place looks different than when you were two kids in love. There are more flowers now, brighter blooms, and the smell of something sweet spills from the curtains blowing in the wind.

He hears the heartbeats within the home before the voices. Four all together. Two slower—he knows those are adults. There’s the rapid flutter of what he assumes to be a child, and the last is muffled and swift, unfamiliar to him even after all these years in his new body.

His head tilts up and he sees Steve Harrington’s familiar head of hair moving about a little boy’s room illuminated by a lamp. There are endless blocks strewn in a corner, little postcards from places all over the world plastered on the sky blue walls.

He’s nearly thirty two if Eddie remembers correctly, and wears a pair of thin wired glasses. He’s still disgustingly pretty in that way only Steve Harrington could be.

Steve’s voice is soft as he runs his fingers through the little one's hair. Brushes a kiss on his forehead from where he kneels beside a kiddy bed. “I told you, the Tooth Fairy is nice. Plus you’re four, little man, you don’t have to worry about it for a long time. And if you really don’t want the Tooth Fairy to come, I’ll tell them our house is off limits.”

“Are you sure?”

Steve nods, his chuckle carrying through the gently parted window. “Plus, Uncle Dustin and Aunt Suzie don’t know what they’re talking about anyway.”

“They don’t?” Those little eyes perk up, soft and round like his father’s.

“No, Jamie. Also, didn’t I tell you I’ll always keep you safe?” The little boy nods, and Steve’s finger slides down the gentle slope of his nose until it wrinkles and a boyish giggle reaches Eddie’s ears. “So you never have to worry, because I’ll always protect you. Always.”

“Daddy, can you sing me the song?” It’s then, as Steve nods and shifts to sit in the bed beside his son, Eddie sees the boy fully.

He’s got Steve’s eyes and his dark hair, but Eddie immediately knows the rest is all you.

He doesn’t even need to see you appear in the doorway to notice the clear resemblance. But his breath catches all the same. You’re just as he remembers you. Smiling and beautiful as ever, one hand on the doorway, the other on your hip.

He catches the rings on your left hand, and then higher up, around your neck against your heart where he remains forever now, the ring he gave you all those years ago.

You're thirty-one now, just like Steve, though you could never tell ten years has gone by from looking at you.

You’re that girl from the diner, the same girl he fell in love with so many years ago it feels like another lifetime.

“Jamie Edward, it’s past your bedtime, sweet boy,” you admonish, and Eddie’s throat swells with emotion, chest aching with fondness.

He glows inwardly, because what a gift you’ve unknowingly given him.

Jamie Edward.

“Uncle Dusty scared me,” the little boy whines as you join them and sit on the end of the bed.

Eddie watches your fingers reach across and twine with Steve’s, and he feels that ache in his chest for you start to subside. The part of him that always feared you’d live in the past forever, stuck in the memory of the boy you’d loved and lost.

Steve whispers, “Tooth Fairy.”

You only nod.

Jamie climbs further into his father’s arms, resting his head over his chest, looping an arm around his waist.

Steve rocks the boy slightly and sings. The sound that comes out is beautiful. Uniquely Steve. Quiet, a little raspy in tone, but Eddie feels a weightlessness creep into his soul as the words fall from his mouth and out that open window.

“Close your eyes, have no fear. The monster’s gone, he’s on the run, and your daddy’s here…”

Jamie’s head nuzzles against his father’s chest, and your ringed hand comes up to brush along your little one’s hair as your husband sings into open air.

“Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful…beautiful boy…”

Eddie turns on the heel and starts in the other direction, Steve’s voice following him along the way like a gentle caress.

A healing balm.

He walks down the path from whence he came, a new lightness to his steps.

There’s no bitterness, no sadness.

No, there’s only joy, because you’re happy and you’re alive and so full of it and that’s all he’s ever hoped for.

He kicks a rock down the road and hums to himself, glancing over his shoulder one last time to watch Steve kiss you on the forehead, his palm coming to rest lovingly against your slightly rounded midsection.

Steve moves away from you a second later to close the blinds and pauses. For a moment Eddie wonders if he can see him, hidden in the veil of his shadows. Steve squints and lingers, then shakes his head softly as though he thinks he’s seeing things, and shuts the light before he follows you out of Jamie’s bedroom.

Eddie smiles to himself.

He’s finally at rest.

#Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson one shot #Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #vampire!eddie munson #steve stranger things #steve harrington fic #Steve Harrington x reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #steve harrington x you #newlipsmilestoneoflove

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eleni-cherie · 5 months ago

Text

a thief's origin✨ || bts • kth - chapter 0.3

"you're afraid I won't wait." "I'm afraid you will."

a criminal and a doctor should be as different as the sun and the moon - but unexpected things happened every day. like him finding his safe haven in her.

»»»

masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

»»»

21st April

Barcelona, Spain

"Wished I could travel around again, like when I was a kid.. haven't done that in years."

Cassandra heaved a sigh and sat back at the bench in parc de la Ciutadella. Trying her best to shield her eyes from the sun that still flared from in between the trees. Preventing her from drawing properly.

She needed that little distraction from all the medical things. It had been an intense week once again at the hospital and that was one of her favourite spots.

"Around the world like you do, you know?" Her lips pressed into a thin line as she peeked at Taehyung who was sitting beside her, sunk into his seat and legs widely spread in front of him. Untamed raven hair hanging into his eyes behind round sunglasses. "Okay, maybe not exactly like you do," she laughed under her breath, "But still, I'm quite envious of you for that."

"It's not as much fun as you imagine it though.." he chuckled while mindlessly observing a group of tourists gathering in front of the impressive fountain in the park. The song on the playlist sitting between them faded and a soft piano melody began playing instead.

"Sure, having to be on the run from interpol probably takes the fun out of it but.." She dragged a breath. "It's still better compared to being stuck at one place."

Cassandra often liked to pretend the job didn't phase her too much, especially since not even a full year had passed of her officially practicing it. She tried keeping a professional distance to the patients and even her colleagues, with the exception of Stella. Sometimes it was easier, sometimes not. She wasn't sure which path was the right approach yet. She hoped with practice there would come knowledge.

The only thing she knew was that day hadn't been one of the great ones. Not only because of the tantrum by her assistant colleague Pavlo, a big sleazy jerk who definitely wasn't made for any profession that required contact to sick humans, but even before that. That was why she was thankful for Taehyung randomly showing up that day. Waiting for her at the ER entrance as always.

She didn't say it out loud, but his random visits were always a welcoming break from the monotony of her daily life. And she appreciated them. Even if they were usually for just one day. It was the one day she looked forward to the most, despite never knowing when it'd come and if it'd ever come again. Because being friends with someone like him had the disadvantage of having little to no contact the rest of the time.

Still, even if not much, the time they got to spend together always reminded her how exciting and fun that city could be. With the right company at least. It reminded her there was a life outside of the hospital.

Taehyung looked at her, pensively. He never realised how hard her job must've been and he gave her an empathetic pout. "Stuck.. that bad, huh?"

She sucked on the little rest of her melon lollipop before throwing the plastic stick into the bin next to her. "Sometimes, yeah."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"There's not really much to talk about.. but thanks." A weak smile graced her lips, not quite reaching her eyes. Truth was she'd have liked talking about it with someone but couldn't because a) medical confidentiality and b) it was a sad story and she didn't want to dump it all onto him. They might be friends, oddly enough for some, but she didn't want to scare him off with all her emotional baggage.

Amyloidosis. Why on earth would a seven-year-old have that?

Her heart clenched just remembering it.

"Well, I know a place that might distract you at least." His cheery voice caused her to perk up with curiosity, watching him pausing the music to shove the phone into his pockets.

"Really? What place?"

He flashed her a grin filled with mischief and promise before standing up. Motioning for her to follow. "You'll see."

Whenever he'd come to Barcelona before meeting Cassandra it was mainly for a job, a layover or to lay low when interpol was on their tail. However, he'd still got around a fair amount of times and there was a small tapas bar in the basement of a narrow alley that he liked a lot. It wasn't nearby, but she looked like needing good food and a drink right now.

Intrigued, the coppery-haired girl packed her drawing utensils and swung her tote bag over her shoulder before following him out of the park to his parked car. Perhaps she shouldn't be so trusting of a thief she'd not even spent two handful of days together and yet she was. Finding herself heading west in his car when they stopped at a red light.

He let his long fingers absentmindedly drum to the soft beat playing on the radio while waiting. Humming along to it.

Cassandra got curious to where he was bringing her to and attempted to ask after all, but faltered when she watched him slid off the sunglasses. Using them to push back his hair that was unrulingly covering his vision due to a spring blow coming from the cranked down window. She took in his musing eyes and the soft edges of his features. Skin shining in a warm undertone, much warmer than hers in the city's afternoon glow.

"Traffic's unbearable," he sighed then and turned to her, catching her gaze already resting on him.

Her long eyelashes fluttered and she looked away to the lines of cars in front of them. "I-it's because of roadwork at the ring road. Everyone's detouring."

"Ah," he replied with a bashful smile. Seeing vehicles at the front moving then, much to his relief. And he prepared switching gears when an unexpected whistle made him grow stiff.

"Well, well, well.. who do we have here!"

That seething voice instantly triggered his memory and made the blood in his veins freeze. He internally cursed, glancing to his left. His eyes recognising that sleazy lopsided grin from its source. It was one of the goons he owned his wounded arm last year to.

The man, not much taller than him and surely not smarter, was leaning against a street lamp, a half-lit cigarette hanging loosely from his lips as he pushed himself off. The grin widening in a threatening mannor as he took the butt from between his teeth and tossed it to the ground, glance never leaving his.

Taehyung's jaw clenched and he faced Cassandra with concern. Meeting her already inquiring look.

"Cas, buckle up and hold tight. Okay?" He expected her to pelt him with questions but instead, she just nodded and sank lower into her seat. Gripping her seatbelt tightly.

"Hey, I think we still got to settle an outstanding score!" the guy sneered then. Preparing to make his way over to them when thankfully the cars in front of them disappeared. And he instantly shifted gears, flooring the gas.

The thug shouted after them in anger and Taehyung knew this wasn't over. Catching a glimpse of the man in the rareview mirror, waving over another one before getting into the red car parked besides them.

"I'm sorry, Doc, I think we have to postpone it." His face turned apologetic as he navigated himself through the busy streets. "I'll stop somewhere so you can -" The sentences was left unfinished as a loud pang! echoed and next thing he noticed was the side-mirror, cracked into tiny pieces. "Fck."

Cassandra's eyes grew. Staring at him with bewildered bambi eyes. "Was that a bullet?"

"I fear so."

Quietly, she folded her lips and sunk even lower into her seat. "Damn, so that's what it's really like to hang out with you, huh cool guy?" she joked and he glanced at her, astonished.

There was mild concern on her face, paired with irritation in her eyes. But he realised they lacked fear or panic. She wasn't terrified like most people would be in that situation. It seemed nonsensical, almost comically absurd. And he chuckled under his breath.

"Sometimes, yeah. Keep your head tucked down, okay?" He shot her a smile before sliding out the gun from his waistband underneath his loose-fitted shirt and she nodded vigorously.

Cocking the magnum he glanced over his shoulder, spotting the red car nearing them fast. It was only a couple of vehicles behind them. In that moment, someone leaned out of the passenger window and Taehyung instantly sat back again. Shifting to a higher gear and taking a sharp turn into another street, earning loud honks and curses from two other drivers. With the advantage of the new angle, he fired a couple of shots himself. Each one piercing the red car's front tyres and eventually causing it to come to an abrupt halt in the middle of the street.

He drifted to the next side-street, heading for the exit to the ring rode highway in the north then. There was no time to think themselves safe, though, with the piercing sound of multiple bullets hitting his car's trunk. And he saw two motorbikes following them in the rearview mirrow.

"Would you do me a favour?"

Cassandra arched a brow at his apologetic smile. "W-what favour?"

"Hold the steering wheel for me - just for a few seconds. Can you do that?"

"W-what? Why?"

He sighed. "I might be a great marksman, but I can't shoot behind me while also driving."

"I can't drive though! I don't have a license." Taehyung stifled a laugh, finding it ironic that only now she chose to panic and that over something, in his opinion, minor.

"Just keep the car on the road for five seconds, that's all." He gave her an reassuring smile and Cassandra gulped. Eventually agreeing, not having much of a choice after all when another bullet hit their car. So she leaned over and gripped the steering wheel, holding it tightly. Thankfully not many cars were in front of them on the highway.

Five seconds. Just five seconds, she kept telling herself as Taehyung turned in his seat and with a deadly precision aimed and hit the motorbikes' tyres. The vehicles along with their passengers stumbling and collapsing to the ground. And he quickly took the steering wheel back.

"Good girl," he grinned at her proudly. Cassandra feeling her cheeks heating up at his affirmation. She peeked at him then as she straightened in her seat, "Your aim is quite impressive." He could've aimed at the passengers - it must have been easier - but he still chose to only shoot the tyres. She noticed that.

He mumbled an embarrassed 'thanks' before clearing his voice. "You know the city well, don't you?"

She nodded.

"Alright, do you know any abandoned area close by?"

Cassandra sat back, thinking hard as she chewed on her lips while trying remembering anything.

There was the forest and mountains, but they couldn't be reached well by car.

"Ah, remember I said one of the main roads is closed due to constructions? It's a big stretch of the road. That part should be pretty abandoned save for the warehouses close by."

He nodded, trusting her words. They didn't have much time to come up with an alternative now anyway as a third bike had appeared in the distance. "Lead the way."

"Take the next exit," she instructed him an they headed east. No vehicles around them as they left the main road segment. Soon encountering the roadblocks in the distance with the construction area behind it. He took a sharp turn, sliding down from the road and towards the block of grey warehouses beside it to park the car behind one.

"Go to the backseat and stay low, got it?" he instructed and before her lips could even part in protest, he had already left.

With a huff Cassandra shuffled and did as she'd been told. Unable to contain her curiosity, however, she dared to peep out a few times. Trying seeing if she could catch a glimpse of anything.

She didn't.

He had probably headed towards the construction area. Keeping the action as far away from her as possible hence why he'd hidden the car there. So she sat back down, bringing her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her angled legs and waited.

It felt like an eternity passed and she was unable to hear anything, assuming there was indeed no one around. And she began to feel stupid. Wonderung if he had perhaps left her there altogether. He hadn't struck her like such a person, but as she got out of the car and looked around the empty area, her heart sank in disbelief.

Had he really just left her there in the middle of nowhere? No. No way.

Puffing out her breath, she started walking out of the warehouses towards the main road. Determind to walk all the way back to the city if needed when her eyes caught a black car and a motorcircle parked at the construction area in the distance. And she abruptly paused in her tracks, quickly retreating behind the wall of a warehouse to observe.

There were several people standing around the escavated area. Shouting incoherent words to each other. Then suddenly another person appeared behind one of the construction vehicles and shot at them, hitting one of the men on both shins in the matter of a single second before disappearing again. Two others quickly ran away then to jump behind a pile of gravel next to a hole. Shooting at the vehicle now.

They stood so far away that the gunshots sounded like faint plopping noises.

The other man's head popped up again and that was when she caught a better look on him - it was Taehyung. Clearly. She should've known from his aim. He shot at a cargo net hanging from a crane, causing it to cut in an instant and the cargo dropping right next to the two men. Cracking open and heavy bags falling onto them, burying them.

Cassandra held her breath. Seeing her friend then coming out from his stash to examine his work and she decided to check the situation out herself. There was a guy with clear gunshot wounds wailing on the ground and Taehyung might've also been injured, she had to.

In the meantime, Taehyung dragged out the unconscious guys from underneath the bags. Dropping the last one's arm, he wiped over his forehead with the back of his hand. It was exhausting but he knew he couldn't leave them underneath. Surely the cops would soon be there, taking care of the rest. All that was left for him was to tie them up just in case they decided to come back to their senses earlier than he wished.

He grabbed a rope wrapped around a pipe then, beginning to tie it around their wrists and ankles when a dull noise echoed behind him and he turned around in alert.

He saw one of the men he thought were unconscious, kneeling down on the ground and holding his head, wincing. And above him stood Cassandra with a shovel, panting heavily. She caught Taehyung's surprised glare then, flashing him a grin.

"He was creeping up on you."

His lips parted, ready to scold her for leaving the stash but before he could properly react, a flashing from the direction of the cars caught his attention and he shoved her behind a stack of logs. A shot ringing through the air the second they hit the sandy ground.

Her round eyes stared at him startled as he was towering over her with a stern look. The tips of their noses a breath away from brushing against each other.

Cassandra had noticed the tiny moles on his face before. The one under his eyelashes, the one on the round tip of his nose, the one at the edge of his full lips. But it was only with the close proximity of it almost touching hers that she really saw them, taking them all in. And her breath hitched when catching his eyes skimming over her features, too.

Taehyung's chest rose and fell against hers. He swallowed, holding her gaze a second longer and almost getting completely lost in the depths of her irises' warm gradient, when another shot rang above them. And he quickly retreated and propped himself back up. The small golden pendant usually hidden underneath his shirts, slipped out and dangled in the air between them.

He grabbed his revolver from where it had fallen next to them, taking the empty capsules out and filling new bullets in before aiming the magnum at the direction of the shortly joined cars. Shooting at the backup the others must've called beforehand. He stroke the shooters with one bullet each despite the long distance, hearing a series of yelps until the last one was down.

And Cassandra silently studied him from where she was still laying on the ground. His usually gentle almond eyes, sharp and hard as they were focusing on their target. Arms flexing with every recoil.

In that moment she indeed believed he looked like the coolest guy she knew.

She didn't notice the ringing in her ears from all the firing. Only when she saw his outstretched hand towards her, she realised it had ended and she grabbed it, heaving herself up.

Brushing off the dirt from her uncovered legs, when the distinctive sound of sirens shrilled in the distance. And the two exchanged an alarmed glance. "To the car!"

They began running over the uneven construction area, the warehouses in close sight when Cassandra suddenly felt the ground beneath her feet shifting and giving in. She tripped in an unwary moment and the next thing she knew, she tumbled down an excavated hole.

"Cas!" Taehyung yelled out. Not wasting a second before skillfully sliding down himself to check on her.

She groaned in pain as her limbs had tried to absorb the shock, but she still attempted staying up from the gravel. Biting back a hiss then when a piercing ache crossed her senses, forcing her to pause. And she sank back down. The skin on her legs and hands burning.

"Your leg," Taehyung muttered then as he knelt down. Cassandra furrowed her brows, not understanding what he meant only to see her right knee being covered in blood. The graze quite big and deep, burning like hell along with all the other abrasions. And a persistent pain in her ankle.

"Is it serious? Can you move your leg?" Taehyung asked with concern in his voice.

"Sure I can I jus- ouch!"

"So that's a no. Is it broken?"

"No, I can still move it -" She winced at her anew attempt. She could move it indeed, it was just very painful. "It's most likely just sprained."

It was quite ironic. Of course the only way for her to actually get injured was by tripping and falling. Not bullets or anything. How embarrassing. She felt like an utter nuisance. All she wanted was to help and instead she was a burden.

Much to her astonishment, she watched him turn around and scrunch down in front of her then.

"Get on."

"Huh?"

"We got no time to spare, just get on," he commanded and she gulped at his serious tone, making her guilt only grow. She quickly obeyed, wrapping her arms aroung his neck and allowing him to hook his hands around her knees to lift her up.

The hole thankfully wasn't too deep, but nevertheless steep and walking it back up with another person on his back definitely wasn't an easy task. They didn't have any other option though, the sirens drew nearer. The police probably on the highway parallel to this road, soon reaching the exit and them, so they needed to hurry. And she was clearly not in the state to climb up on her own.

Cassandra was holding onto him tightly. Feeling bad for Taehyung having to carry her back to the car in a piggyback ride. Afraid she was too heavy for him despite the firm grip on her legs so she squeezed them tighter against his waist not to slip out.

Reaching the car in no time, he placed her down onto the passenger seat with a deep set crease between his brows. Rushing to the driver's side then and engaging a gear, he rushed the car out from the warehouses and onto a field road, towards the direction of a side road leading back to the highway.

"How - how bad is it?" His face was guilt-driven as he glanced at her, redirecting his focus onto the road then. "Where's the next hospital? We need to get it treated."

"No, don't worry. It's nothing serious. Just need to bandage and cool it at home." Cassandra only waved him off with a wary smile. Much to Taehyung's growing frustration. He only frowned, brows furrowing with reasonable doubts. "Home? I should bring you to a doctor!"

"I am a doctor," she pointed out, earning an eye-roll from him.

"And you can patch up yourself?"

"Uh, yeah why not?"

"Cas, I'm getting you a doctor. Another doctor."

"No, you won't," she retorted, persisting, "It's honestly nothing severe and they won't be able doing anything but bandage the wound and tell me to cool the ankle and keep it lifted, anyway. Trust me."

Dragging out a breath he gave in. Not thinking he'd be able winning any argument with her persistent stubborness and an attitude comparable to a child's 'so what?' mindset.

"How did this even happen? I just looked away for a second.." he mumbled then, more to himself than her really. He was driving at speedlimit, trying his best not to overdo it as they didn't need the police's attention right now.

Cassandra could only face him with an sheepish grin. "Well, there's a reason I became an internist and not a surgeon. I'm clumsy as hell, if you haven't noticed yet." She tried joking, hoping to lighten the mood.

At least she could laugh about it, he thought. His stern expression mitigating, breathing out a chuckle himself over her self-irony.

Now that she mentioned it, he'd indeed noticed her left-handed behavior at times. Dropping things, hitting her limbs, tripping.. There was always a random bruise adorning some place on her skin.

"Yeah, I surely wouldn't want to get operated by you," he deadpanned then making her audibly gasp before breaking into a fit of giggles. And he exhaled, shaking his head as his lips formed a crooked smile. "You're something.. you know that?"

She huffed, folding her arms. "Something good I hope."

He smirked, almost missing the right turn. "Always."

Eventually reaching her street with no patrol cars in sight, he parked a bit further away from her building just in case and helped her out of the car. Offering his hand which she gladly accepted. Watching her hobble out since she was still unable to properly bend her right foot.

"Let me help you." His voice was low, almost a whisper and he took her hand, wrapping her arm around his shoulder before hesitatingly placing his hand around her waist.

Cassandra didn't object, putting her pride aside as she undoubtedly needed a little assistance and so he led her down the sparsely illuminated narrow pavement.

It was barely past 9pm, but the sun had set already. The only other additional light being the blue flickening of tv screens coming from behind closed balcony doors.

Taehyung kept internally cursing while supporting her limping self. His grip around her waist getting firmer as his other hand squeezed her fingers which were hanging from his shoulder. "Cas, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.. I should've paid more attention."

"Seriously, Tae, don't let it get to you," Cassandra countered with an reassuring smile, not wanting him to feel bad for her own mistake.

She had been used to things like this happening. Random cuts and bruises without exactly knowing where they came from. It was normal to her. Though, admittedly, such a large wound along with a strain was a new level she'd reached, but it was still her own doing.

Something Taehyung didn't seem to accept so easily though, as she only earned a mildly irritated huff and scowl from him.

In his opinion, she was way too laid back for someone with a large open wound on her knee, scratched and bleeding, and a strained if not broken ankle that made her unable to properly walk without flinching. He suspected her to be downplaying it and pretending not being in pain for his sake. However, it was quite evident by the way her jaw clenched and she bit down on her tightly pressed lip whenever she turned her face away, thinking he wouldn't see.

Perhaps she was also just as prideful and stubborn as he was.

He led her out of the elevator, down the hallway towards her apartment's door and after she fiddled with the keys for what felt like a minute, doing so with only one hand proving harder than she thought, she managed pushing it open and he hurried her inside and to where she pointed the bathroom was at.

Taehyung let her take a seat on the small bathtub's edge then. One foot on the blue rug while the injured leg was stretched out along the bathtub so she could inspect the wound better. Good thing that wounds and blood always fascinated her, made that workfield much easier.

The dried blood covering her shin, got cleaned first with the water jet of her shower. It was surely just a flesh wound.

However, it was still rather extensive. If she had been wearing long pants it might've been prevented, but her shorts hadn't provided any kind of cover when she'd stumbled down the gravel and asphalt.

"My emergency kit is under the sink, could you fetch it for me?" she asked, eyes too focused on inspecting the wound to look at him.

He quickly obeyed, handing her over the blue box and watched her opening it like a mechanic would open their toolbox. All kinds of supplies inside. Gauze, rash creams, small brown bottles of oitments and bigger, clear bottles he couldn't really identify.

"Pledget," she suddenly ordered, stretching her hand and Taehyung only eyed her with an amused smile over her unusual bossy tone.

Confused about the lack of acknowledgment, she glanced at him before her eyes widened. Giggling embarrassed at herself when rememering she wasn't in the hospital but her own bathroom. "Sorry, force of habit. Behind the mirror I store pledgets. And in the bottom drawer I have a small wash cloth. Please wet it and give them to me."

He smirked before he picked everything in her list. "Anything else I can assist you with, Doc?"

"No, that's all for now, nurse," she smirked back as she accepted the pledgets and the cloth from him. Beginning cleaning the wound from the dirt and tiny particles and trying her best not to wince with every touch of the wet fabric on her open skin. And Taehyung pitied her. Still feeling like all this was in some way his fault, no matter how much she denied it.

He grabbed the cloth from her then and Cassandra was about to object when she watched him kneel down in front of her. Silently taking over in cleaning the wound. Flustered, her breath halted for a moment when his fingers gently prushed over her shin to keep her leg steady.

"Y-you don't have to."

"I know."

And she folded her lips, leaving him work in silence. When he deamed the wound to be free from any foreign material, he put the cloth away and glanced up at her in anticipation. "What now?"

She swallowed before offering him a smile. Motioning with her chin to the blue box. "There's a disinfectant spray. Spray some on a pledget to disinfect it."

He hummed with a nod and she observed him follow her instructions. Both growing quiet again until she flinched at the disinfectant's cold burning. His hand gently pressed her leg back down, holding it in position. "Almost done," his voice soothed her, quietly demanding for her not to move. And Cassandra bit the inside of her lips, nodding. Not only her wound tingling, but every fibre of skin covering her body was. Like fizzy powder being sprinkled all over it.

"N-next use the cream saying 'dexpanthenol'."

His concentrating brows furrowed while he spread the cream. And Cassandra had to look away.

Dammit, she thought and closed her eyes. Why was it suddenly so warm in there?

She felt like melting into a puddle right into the tub.

Before she even realised, he had began to wrap gauze around her knee. "Tell me if it's too tight." His usually chesty voice hollow now, his mind preocuppied with racing thoughts. Almost missing her cough out a hum as she was still unable to form coherent sentences.

Cassandra had been so used to be the one taking care of others, especially physically, that having someone who wasn't her parents or grandparents, taking care of her felt not only strange and unusual, but also oddly pleasant. And she smiled gently.

"Thank you." Now she just needed to rest and cool the ankle.

Taehyung nodded only, packing everything he had used back into the blue box.

"Least I could do, really," he sighed then, a rueful smile tucked on the corner of his lips, "I'm sorry, Cassandra, I -" He looked down to the blue rug he was sitting on. "I guess it was foolish to make you hang out with someone like me. Should've known it was a bad idea."

A frown nestled onto her features hearing his words and she slid her leg down from the bathtub, sitting properly now. "You didn't 'make' me, Taehyung. I hang out with you because I want to. Because I like hanging out with you."

Glancing up at her briefly with a raised brow, he quickly shook his head. She said it so matter-of-factly, but it felt undeserved.

"Even after today?"

"Especially after today. And besides, you told me to stay in the car and I didn't listen.." She sighed, averting her irises in shame. "So I'm the sorry one."

"Right, but I should've known you wouldn't listen," he shrugged nonchalantly, "It was to be expected really."

She huffed out a puzzled laugh. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

Taehyung grinned, flickering a finger on her forehead with a chuckle. Cassandra flinched at the unexpected gesture, rubbing the spot with a whine.

"It means that you, Cassandra, are curious, impatient and defiant like a child. So of course you wouldn't listen."

His words had the potential to offend or hurt someone, but the tender expression on his features let her know of their affectionate nature. They weren't meant anything but teasingly, he wasn't actually scolding her. Yet, she couldn't help but pout.

"Besides," he said then and lifted himself, standing in front of her now, "If you hadn't knocked off that guy with the shovel, you might've been the one treating me again instead. So if anything, I owe you."

Frankly, it didn't make sense to Taehyung that she was apologising when she'd have had all the right to yell and cuss at him for endangering her.

Why wouldn't she throw him out of her flat already? Why wasn't she terrified or scared?

Now that he thought about it, she hadn't been before either.

When the shooting began, a little, but after that? She had been rather composed. More than most civilians would've been in her position. And it confused him even more, but it also impressed him.

"Weren't you scared at all?" he wondered then, eyes dropping with a pensive look, "You could've been injured more severely than this."

Cassandra was buffled for a moment but seemed to understand what he was hinting at and her doe eyes became even rounder, contemplating his words.

Yeah, she should've been terrified. But she wasn't. And hadn't been. Why?

He watched her pushing herself off the tub, attempting to stay up. Carefully, she eventually managed standing on one foot while the injured one lightly touched the ground for balance. Her brown eyes radiating warmth at her following words.

"I wasn't, no. You were there after all, so I didn't have a reason to. I knew you'd protect me. And you did."

His lips parted, startled. "I, I see.." He coughed in an attempt to mask his flushed smile. He hadn't expected that.

She trusted him. She trusted him enough not to be scared. The thought made him irrationally proud.

"I mean," she chuckled then, trying being casual about it, "You didn't lie, your shooting skills are pretty mad. I'm impressed."

He huffed, scratching the back of his neck as his other hand automatically went to the gun in the back of his waistband. "Ah yeah?" he smirked for a brief moment before his lips pressed into a thin line again. "Cas, seriously now though. Why aren't you mad at me? Why would you.. still want to spend time with me?"

"Told you already."

He sighed in frustration, unsure if she simply didn't get it or pretended not to. "You know what I mean. You're a doctor, a good person. You help others. You literally save lives, while I.. I don't do any of that. I'm a literal criminal. Sure, not as ruthless or devious as most.. but still a criminal. A bad guy."

His bubble, it was bursting. He could feel it. The bubble he kept escaping to that past half a year. The little delusion of feeling normal he had clinged to.

Cassandra remained silent, her stern gaze staying on Taehyung's despite him looking away. Blame written all over his gentle features and in a way, the way he perceived himself ached her more than the strain. Especially since she knew him and his friends weren't ordinary criminals.

And it also upset her, the way he portrait her. Placing her on a pedestral. As if she was a perfect being who couldn't do any wrong.

"Just because I'm a doctor I'm not a saint, and you ain't a demon for being a thief."

The firmness in her voice made him perk up, eyes keen to prove him wrong.

"Come, I need to show you something," she said then and gently tugged him by the wrist.

Wordlessly, he let her hold onto his forearm as she led him with small steps across the hallway into what turned out to be the living room.

She turned on a lamp in the far corner, illuminating the space.

The room was as organised as Cassandra's thoughts, every piece of furniture and decor at its place neatly. A flat-screen on the wall and in front of it a broad sofa stuffed with soft pillows and colourful plushies, and underneath the dark coffee table, a carpet of bright but soothing colours. The window big beside it, with several smaller to medium-sized plants lining up on the windowsill.

She came to a halt, positioning them both in front of the wall opposite to the window then.

There was a corckboard with all kinds of tickets, photos and postcards from around the world pinned onto it, gracing a small part of the wall, while the majority was occupied with posters. Film posters, to be precise.

"Some of my favourite films," she plainly stated, peeking at him expectantly. And Taehyung breathed out, allowing his gaze to wander over each one of the posters decorating the space. Then going to the tall shelves in the corner with numerous old dvds. His lips falling slightly agape when taking everything in. "You.."

"Yup."

Crime films, heist films, neo-noir, gangster-comedies.

That explained some things.

After what felt like minutes of silence, he eventually spoke up again.

"Great films."

"Yeah?" she asked, beaming when seeing him nod in approval.

"Of course." He faced her then with knitted brows. "You know films aren't very realistic though."

At this she only scoffed when seeing an shit-eating grin spreading on his lips. And she nudged his side. "Oh, I know. But some are based on real stories, so close enough I'd say."

They shared another glance before Taehyung eventually broke into a fit of laughter. With her promptly joining him, recognising the absurdity of it all. Both laughing over what felt like their own little inside-joke.

"You really are something, Cas.."

»»»

23rd April

Interpol branch office

Seoul, South Korea

"Agent Kim? I forwarded you the video the colleagues from Spain sent over," Jungkook, the newest and youngest addition to the robbery department explained with an eager tone. Making Seokjin perk up and avert his eyes from the file case on the computer screen. "They said it might be of interest for us."

He hummed, waving Namjoon over who had been walking down the corridor with a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Moving the curser to Jungkook's message then. Sensing the younger agent hovering expectedly over him when Namjoon finally joined them and he opened the file. All threee watching the video intently, processing the scene.

"I'd recognise this gun work anywhere, that's Kim Taehyung," Namjoon stated, excitement evident in his voice. Seokjin agreed with a grin. "Not bad, how many goons were there? Nine?"

"I count eight, but still."

His superiors' steadfast statements astonished Jungkook. After all the video quality of the security camera from the construction area in East Barcelona was quite low and grainy, partially due to the lack of light. It was mainly shapes visible. No details.

"You mean one of Park Jimin's accomplices? Are you sure?"

Seokjin wanted to almost scoff at the doubtful tone in the young agent's voice but remembered he had only arrived there from the academy two months prior, after Hoseok had transferred to organised crime to become the department head there. So of course Jungkook couldn't know everything yet.

"Pretty sure," Namjoon flashed him a dimpled grin then, patting Jungkook's shoulder.

"I know these guys in and out," Seokjin exhaled dramatically then, "Jimin, Taehyung and Yoongi, who joined them five years ago." His brown eyes wandered to the whiteboard across the room where their photographs along with important details greeted him every morning when entering the office. "The only one I don't recognise is this girl."

"She might be connected to Jimin, too, since Taehyung was there," the younger agent suggested.

"Possible," Namjoon stirred his coffee and took a sip, "But the only other woman we know in Park's life is Arabella Valentine and it's surely not her."

Jungkook's brows furrowed in astonishment. "And you're so sure because.."

At this Seokjin laughed out, quite entertained by the youngster's naivity. "Because Jimin's the only one whipped for her, contrary to his partners who'd never trust her. And I can't judge them for that, I wouldn't either," he added, closing the file he faced his younger colleague then. "So I doubt Taehyung would join hands with her if Jimin didn't force him to. But I neither see him nor Yoongi around, so Kim was probably on his own."

Jungkook nodded with a contemplating expression, deep in thoughts. "Maybe she was just a bystander who happened to get involved then?"

Seokjin hummed at Jungkook's reasoning, musing over it for a moment. "Possible. Wouldn't be the first time. Keep an eye on that in the future, though. In case we see her around again."

"Of course," he nodded with a serious tone, about to return to his desk when Seokjin called out for him again.

"Who were those other guys by the way?"

"Oh, according to the case file a gang called Ojitos."

"I see, thanks."

As far as he remembered those were the same guys the three fellas had got into a fight with last summer. So he concluded they'd recognised Taehyung and therefore gone after him.

That girl, however.. whoever she was, it remained a mystery for now.

»»»

25th June

Barcelona, Spain

The day seemed never-ending and Cassandra almost tossed her stethoscope to the ground, slamming her locker close. It was one of those days where pretending not caring didn't work and everything was a bit too overwhelming. Sucking in a breath, she changed into her normal clothes and left the hospital as quickly as possible. Fearing if she looked back, it might just swallow her alive.

It was days like this that made her doubt her choices.

The only thing she looked forward to on the whole way home was food and the ice cream she had stored in the freezer. Hence why she almost forgot to check her mailbox, hurriedly grabbing the few envelopes from it and skimming over them when a postcard that peaked out from among the letters, caught her attention. And she paused.

Eagerly, she tucked it out. Seeing the famous white opera of Sydney surrounded by the sea on its front.

Her brows furrowed. Not recalling knowing anyone who visited or lived there so she flipped it to read the text on the backside for any clues.

"some films shot here:

matrix 1-3, mission impossible 2, two hands, the hard word

thought this might make up for your lack of travel :)

-T"

Her face lit up, instantly recognising the sender. Taehyung.

She hadn't seen him in awhile, the last time he happened to pass by Barcelona being some months ago. And she wondered if that meant he was thinking of her during the months apart, just like she was thinking of him. Always wondering where in the world he had been.

Now she had her answer. Along with two new films for her watchlist.

And she smiled.

»»»

next chapter: 0.4 here

Don't forget to like, reblog & leave feedback!♡ It motivates me to keep writing :)

taglist: @lilanyxta @naoolammao345 @memna234 @tetehion @myblacklilame @nanakamami

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jamesunderwater · 6 months ago

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Jily Microfic: Payback

@jilymicrofics - april 13th, prompt: payback - words: 639 Summary: James gets his payback. A follow-up to my Mystery Microfic May entry, Risky Behaviour. Written for @nena-96 ;p

James Potter lives for the thrill. Adrenaline flooding his veins, heartbeat pounding in his ears, lungs gasping for breath – this is his favorite state of being. He’s the bloke who laughs at jump scares, who eagerly leaps into the unknown, almost hoping he’ll find something a little terrifying, a little dangerous. He’s not afraid of what might lie behind an unopened door.

At least, he didn’t used to be.

Accidentally discovering Professor McGonagall with breasts cupped in her hands may have altered him forever, though.

-----

“I can’t believe you’re doing all this just so Evans can have her favorite breakfast,” Sirius moans as they walk. He tilts his head when James gives no response. “At what point d’you think you’ve taken the whole ‘we’re in love’ thing too far?”

“It’s for her birthday, you knob, and I dunno what you’re on about – you’re doing just as much as I am to make this happen.”

“Not of my own free will,” Sirius replies, chuckling when James smacks his lips and rolls his eyes. “Only saying – thought I was the dog, but here you are…a sodding lovesick puppy.” His mouth twists into a mischievous grin when James turns on him.

“Oh, shove off, will you?” James says as he pushes the other boy towards the wall.

Sirius laughs victoriously as he points a finger at James’ face. “You’re so bloody red – Merlin, look at your cheeks!”

James smacks Sirius’ finger and Sirius swats the back of his head and suddenly they’re both so distracted by the scuffle they forget everything else entirely.

That is, until the sound of glass shattering draws their attention back to the empty corridor.

“What was that?” Sirius asks.

James shushes him, moving in the direction of the sound. “Think it came from one of these classrooms,” he whispers, beckoning Sirius forward. “Reckon it’s Peeves?”

Sirius whispers his reply as he creeps alongside James, “Or the Bloody Baron having another one of his fits.”

They both know it doesn’t matter: they’re going to open the door and find out.

“D’you wanna check the Map?” Sirius asks, almost soundlessly, when they reach the nearest door.

James shakes his head in reply. They already know Filch is three floors below them, and it’s been entirely too long since he’s been chased by the Baron or dueled with Peeves. Being Head Boy has left him aching for a bit of mischief.

Resting the tip of his wand against the doorknob, he mouths to Sirius: ‘One, two, three…’ before tapping his wand and twisting the handle.

As the door squeaks open, they’re met not by the bellows of the Baron or the shrieks of Peeves, but the strangled cries of two high-pitched voices. When the light from the corridor illuminates the room, the boys find themselves standing before an aghast Professor McGonagall and a half-clothed Madam Pince, her full breasts, freed from her nightdress, tenderly held in the grasp of the other woman’s hands.

“Potter!” the Professor yells in bewilderment, dropping her hands to gesture wildly at them. Madam Pince screams and covers her now-exposed chest, and while James tries (fails) not to look, McGonagall turns back to the other woman, exclaiming, “Sorry! Sorry!”

Suddenly Sirius’ hands are on James’ back, grasping at his shirt. “Prongs–”

“Sorry, Professor!” James cries without thinking. “So sorry, we didn’t– We’ll just– Sorry–”

Before he can say or see anything else, Sirius mercifully drags him back down the corridor.

They sprint the rest of the way to Gryffindor Tower.

-----

Later, once he’s had time to recover, James tells Lily what happened.

After falling into a fit of laughter and collecting herself again, Lily wipes her eyes and fixes James with a grin so wicked, he can’t think straight for how much he wants to kiss her. “Well,” she says, “you certainly got your payback, didn’t you?”

#hp #sirius black #james potter #jily #lily evans #professor mcgonagall #my writing #jily*#jily microfic #the marauders #madam pince #prongsfoot #i mean. platonic. but still.

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dreamingofep · 10 months ago

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Sinned Awakening pt. 20.2 🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/Vampire Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Request: No

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond belief and your undeniable attraction makes you fear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, tension, ANGST, SMUTTT, sub/dom stuff, mentions of blood/gore!!!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8.1k

A/N: Hello everyone! Told you the next part was gonna be up quick!🤭I couldn't leave you hanging and just needed to get this second half of the chapter ASAP. I'm just gonna let you enjoy I hope you like it!

A reminder, this is Vampire!Elvis so there is going to be mentions of blood/gore from here on out. If that's not your thing, sorry but it's needed for the story.

If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here I hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think!

It took weeks for your body to recover from the trauma it endured. It was early April and the spring weather in Memphis was still chilly. You grew very restless being in bed for so long but Elvis insisted on it. It was strange having everyone wait on you hand and foot. You never experienced such a thing in your life because you were usually the one taking care of someone. Everyone that worked in the house was the sweetest to you. You can tell they really loved Elvis and liked being around him. They were human and you assumed they knew what he was but you never brought it up.

Elvis was kind and patient with you, helping you with anything you needed. But you couldn’t help but notice there was something different about him. There was almost a shyness about him when he was around you now and he would be ultra sensitive to you. He wouldn’t touch you for too long and never tried to make the first move when it came to anything intimate. All he would allow himself to do is cuddle you if you were lucky. You had a feeling he wasn’t feeding properly and was not his normal self. You wanted to bring it up and ask him but he wouldn’t let you ask it. He’d always deflect that he was feeling fine and end the conversation right there. As you started to feel back to normal, you missed being with him. You missed those feelings he’d give you when he made love to you.

The longer this went on, the sadder your heart grew. Did he want to be near you anymore? Did he want you? Did he suddenly find you unattractive because of your scars?

You can only imagine what they must feel like to him and you wanted to talk to him about it. You couldn’t have him shut down again just when things got hard again. Frankly, you were tired of feeling like you couldn’t talk to him. You hated how he was so afraid to touch you and because of what happened, your relationship now had a riff. You didn’t want it that way. You wanted it back to the way it was and have him be his normal self around you. You were his, you were sure of that. There was no one else on this earth that you wanted to be with. You wanted to be with him forever. You came to realize, it didn’t scare you as much when it came to the thought of becoming a vampire one day. After knowing you almost lost your life and Elvis had to watch you in the hospital for all those days unconscious, you knew you had to tell him what you wanted. You needed to tell him you loved him and needed him forever. You’d want to talk to him about it, see if he’d open up to you about his feelings for you, and go from there. It was a huge step, one that would change both of your lives, but you were positive this was what you wanted.

You tried to get him alone to just talk, but his whole demeanor was nervous and anxious. He wouldn’t sit down next to you and would suddenly be whisked away to do something else. You had to show patience for him as he gave to you. After everything he’s confessed to you from wanting to feed from you the first day you worked for him or when he told you about being his Chosen, he gave you the honest truth, no matter how hard it was to hear. Now it was your turn, to be honest and tell him what you wanted when the time was right.

One Friday night, Elvis booked the Memphian Theater, not too far from Graceland for a private showing of any movies he wanted to watch. You learned he loved going to the movies late at night and you did too. He brought his usual crew with him but they let you and him sit in the back all alone. The first film he wanted to watch was Letter From an Unknown Woman, one of his favorites he revealed to you.

He held your hand and you liked the small gesture. It was loving and sweet like he always was. You had seen this film a hundred times and you’re sure he had too. You lean on him and place your other hand on the inside of his thigh. You could feel him tense up as you touched him, not having done that in a while he must have been shocked in a way. A little bit halfway through the film, you didn’t have the patience to sit here in the theater and wanted him alone in his bedroom. You wanted him to kiss you and touch you all over, making you feel something good again. It had been too long. You nuzzle your face into his neck, kissing and nipping softly at his skin. He grumbles as you do this, his body still ridged and not relaxed. Your hand roams up his thigh, finding his soft cock in his pants.

“Can we get out of here please?” You ask sensually, lightly rubbing his length as you continue to kiss his neck. Butterflies swarmed in your tummy, feeling like this was the first time you were getting to touch him.

He carefully pulls your hand off of him and pulls his neck away from you. You feel your heart sink, not understanding his somber attitude of late and why he won’t let you touch him.

“No honey, not right now. I can’t,” he grumbles and turns his attention back to the screen.

You never thought you could feel unwanted with him, but lately, that’s all you felt like. Barely looked at or barely touched. You really felt like he didn’t have the same feelings for you anymore. You can’t help but take this personally and tears well in your eyes. You put on your coat and make your way out of the theater.

One of the guys drives you back to the house and you rush inside and lock the bedroom door. You sob into your hands, feeling so stupid for all of this and how naive you could be. You felt pushed aside in every possible way. Maybe Raphael was right? Maybe it was true that this is what Elvis does. He gets bored of them quickly and will leave…

No, he said those things to hurt you. There wasn’t an ounce of truth in his words. There was some deep turmoil inside of Elvis that he wasn’t showing you and you needed to know the truth.

Elvis got back to the house a few minutes after you did and you were livid, waiting to confront him.

There was a knock on the door and you went to answer it. He had one of his arms stretched up on the door frame and the other with his hand on his hip. You can tell he was upset, his overall demeanor ticked off as he looked at you from the top of his sunglasses.

Sex dripped off of him looking like this.

Tempting every cell in your body to have him.

He looks so damn good it drove you nearly mad with his fitted slacks and his low buttoned shirt, exposing all his delicious skin to you.

“What the hell were you thinkin’? Why would you leave me?” He scowls.

“You were too busy with your damn movie I knew you didn’t care if I was around or not,” you spat. He pushes his way into the bedroom and gets inches away from you. His demeanor was strong and powerful and you couldn’t lie; it turned you on. You could feel the heat come off of him and the way his dangerous eyes looked at you sent shivers through you.

“That’s not true, I wanted you there,” he says shortly, pointing his finger at you.

“Did you? Because all you’ve been doing is wanting to spend as little time alone with me as possible! Don’t deny that Elvis, you know it’s true,” you grumble.

“Now y/n I-,” he interjects but you cut him off.

“No! You can’t justify that. There has to be a reason why. There’s something you’re hiding from me I know it. What is it? I’ve been healthy for weeks now and you don’t dare to even touch me or look at me for too long,” you explain.

He takes off his glasses and his eyes are dark and intense, not saying anything to you still.

“Do you still want me? Do you have feelings for me? If there’s someone else then just say it,” you say trembling.

He lets out a frustrated sigh and picks you up swiftly, kicking the door closed behind him, and sitting you down on the edge of the bed firmly. You gasp at his sudden forceful nature searing through him as he looks at you dangerously.

“Goddamn it, stop. Of course, I want you still. It drives me fucking crazy all the time but I just…” he trails off.

“You what? What is it? I know seeing these marks on me isn’t easy but there’s something more to it, isn’t there?” You press, taking a closer look at his dark eyes. They were beginning to look very similar to how they looked in Vegas…

Hungry.

“Why aren’t you feeding? What’s going on?” You ask.

He grunts out loud, taking a few steps away from you.

“No, I am… well, not exactly. I’m drinking from blood bags here and there but… I only want your blood. I’m sorry, I can’t help it. The way it calls out to me, it’s agonizing. And it makes me feel repulsive for not being able to control my thirst when you’ve been hurt for so long.”

“You should have told me…” you say weakly, “I would have let you take some in some way…” you trail off.

“No! I couldn’t hurt you more! There would be no pleasure in feeding myself to my heart’s content while you scream in agony. I heard your screams while Raphael fed on you, how much it hurt you. I can’t re-live something like that. It was awful y/n.”

He falls down to his knees, covering his face with his hands. You felt horrible for him, this struggle he had inside him for so long was because of what Raphael inflicted on you. The pain you experienced was something he also suffered from.

That’s love, your brain screams.

“There’s something I just can’t shake. Something else that keeps me mad at myself…” he sighs.

You hold your breath, unsure what he is going to reveal to you.

“What are you talking about?”

“When I found you, barely holding on and struggling to breathe… I wanted to turn you, make you into a vampire.” Your heart skips at the notion and you can’t speak.

“God, I wanted to bite you so bad y/n. Something so sinful awakened inside me and controlled every last thought I had as I tried to get you out of that house. This wild, unknown instinct swept over me and it made me so scared, I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t sure if you’d make it by the time I got you to the hospital and I was sure the doctors had no idea what to do for this kind of situation. I thought for a split second, this was the only option to save you. But I didn’t think you would be able to survive the bite since you already had so little blood left in you.”

“I got you to the hospital in time and watched you lay there motionless for days. I was so afraid I was too late. And this deeply rooted selfishness inside me was screaming to turn you. To make you mine and get rid of these awful marks on your body. To not even give you a choice over your own soul… I’m disgusted at myself that I even dared to think that notion.”

You stare at him wide-eyed, not expecting such a confession. Your heart ached for him, so upset he’s been holding this back for so long. It explained so much.

“Then you woke up and I was just relieved you were okay and tried to push all those feelings aside… until I got you home and I saw for the first time how bad the damage really was, how much pain you were in… that’s when I thought, maybe I should turn her? I can put her out of her misery and get her in perfect health. I thought it was bad enough I want your blood but to want, no, need to turn you? This was a whole new level the monster brought out in me. Every time we’ve been alone, I am fighting the need to fuck you senseless and sink my teeth into you.”

“Fuck, I miss the way you taste and I haven’t been feeding because of all this guilt I carry within me but only your blood is what I crave. Just any won’t do. I’m afraid if we’re alone for too long… I won’t be able to control myself and I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t hurt you y/n, it will kill me inside,” He tries to justify.

Your brain feels like it's in a drunken fog, you can’t breathe normally.

“You know I trust you. There’s nothing that’s going to change that, ever,” you whimper.

He looks at you in shock, not believing what just passed between your lips.

“What? Did you just hear anything I said? You should not have that much faith in me,” He growls.

“Yes, I do. I’m sorry you’ve felt like that but I wished you told me sooner… maybe I could have helped you or done something,” you explain. “I thought you hated me…”

“I don’t baby, I’m sorry I made you feel like that… but it’s hard to trust myself fully… not after the terrible thoughts I’ve had playing in my mind. I can’t turn you out of pure selfishness,” he grovels. You understood where he was coming from, to give someone no choice over their fate is a lot to bear, but you didn’t see it that way at all.

“Honey listen. If I woke up and you told me you had to turn me in fear of losing me forever, I would understand. I would be thankful I had a second chance on life that you gave me. I wouldn’t have thought you were being selfish.” You say shyly.

“Really?” He says shakily.

“Yes, I understand why you might think it’s selfish because you barely had the choice to decide if you wanted to become a vampire and you hated the newfound life you had. You were thrown into this new world with no one else to help you. You grew to hate Raphael and what he did because he wasn’t a good man. Everything he did was from a hateful place. That’s not how I would feel if you turned me though. If I woke up and was changed, I’d be thankful I had you and couldn’t wait to start the next chapter of my life,” you confess, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

A small smile forms on his face and you blush. His gaze doesn’t falter and he stands back up caressing your face softly, shaking his head slightly.

“You’re too good. Your soul is too pure to be with me. Always seeing past the bad of a situation.” He pauses, memorizing every detail on your face. Both of your breaths are shallow and the tension is thick.

“Baby?” He asks, making sure he has your attention. You look in his beautiful eyes and smile. You nod at him, tracing his lip with your finger.

“Yes?”

“I love you, honey, more than life itself. I want you always. I could never live this life with anyone else. I’ve never felt like this for anyone. Please forgive me for any ill sentiments I’ve had. I love you so much and have for quite some time.” He confesses. Your heart flutters and you can’t believe your ears.

He loves you.

“I love you too Elvis. I love you more than I have ever loved another being on this earth. I never thought I could love someone so much and have them be the only thing I care about, but I do. I want you forever, baby.” You confess breathlessly.

“Yeah, baby?” He says weakly.

“Yes. I want you and only you.” You confess.

He takes a sharp breath in and holds you in his arms, pure amazement shining through as he looks at you.

“Oh my God, I love you baby. I don’t think I can ever get tired of you saying those words to me. I was made to love you and only you,” he smiles at you, tangling his hand in your hair at the back of your head and pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

Fireworks explode in your mind as you feel his soft lips crash into yours. This was heaven at its finest, the way his needy touch wrangled you in for more and your body effortlessly responded to him. You missed this more than you realized and you know he did too. He breaks the kiss momentarily to look up at your face and smile at you.

“I missed your lips,” he grumbles, taking another long kiss. You can't help but moan into his mouth, missing how he felt too. Your hands clutched at his arms, needing him so much closer than he already is. You could sense he was needy too, the way his chest rose and fell and how he kissed you like he was dying for your lips to save him. You break the kiss momentarily to get something that’s been weighing on your mind too. He gets a bit flustered and backs away a bit from you.

“Was that too much honey? I’m sorry to get carried away,” he blushes.

“No, it’s not that honey. Trust me it’s more than welcomed. I just wanted to tell you something that’s been on my mind.” You pause, summoning the courage to continue.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking since coming here, contemplating on my life and how it turned out. I’ve realized that I wouldn’t change any of it. That I would still want to be with you no matter what. I want you to turn me one day and be by your side forever.” you tell him. You reach for him to come closer and have him push against your body.

“Really honey? You would let me turn you?” He asks.

“Yes, I will. I can’t live without you,” you confess. He can’t believe what he’s hearing and lets out a relieved sigh.

“I can’t live without you either. I love you so much honey,” he says, going in for another kiss. Your hands tangle in his hair and there’s more urgency in each kiss. You both are desperate for each other and every inch of you feels like it's on fire. The heat in between your legs grows and the need for him to touch your bare skin becomes unbearable.

You quickly take your lips off of him, “I know you can control yourself with me. I've shown you time and time again you can. I’m sorry you’ve felt like you couldn’t tell me any of this sooner,” You tell him. He nods his head, “I know, it was stupid of me. So stupid.” He says exasperated, kissing you again with so much need it’s suffocating.

“I umm… I think I know when I want you to turn me…” you say insecurely.

“Oh okay, when honey?” He asks nervously.

“My birthday, May 17th. I think that gives me plenty of time to soak in any human experiences I want to have before then.” You say jokingly.

He smirks at you, amused by your attitude. “Okay, baby. So a month? Are you sure that’s enough time? There’s no rush, you just tell me when. I want to give you every last human experience,” he assures you.

“Yes, I’m sure. I’ve never been more sure” you smirk at him. You rub your hand along his face, feeling his smooth cold skin. You look at him longingly, feeling the heat in your core grow.

“I love you,” you whimper, kissing his forehead softly. He looks at you in awe and you both don’t say anything to each other. Just longingly stare at what’s in front of you. You know he can sense how your body is on fire for him, needing so much attention from him.

“Baby, who’s in the house right now?” You ask. His eyebrows furrow and is confused by the question.

“Uhh… a couple of the guys are in the basement and the living room. Why?”

Your hand continues to trace over every inch of his face, memorizing every last detail.

“Because I don’t want them in the house tonight. I don’t want them to be able to hear the things want to do to you tonight,” you say coyly. His eyes shoot open wide and takes in a sharp breath. He slowly gets up and looks over you hungrily, in more ways than one.

“Oh…I’ll go tell them to leave,” he says before turning to the door. You bite your cheek and nod your head at him. The bedroom door closes and you run to the bathroom.

You wanted him to have you all night long, doing every last dirty thing he could think of. God you missed him. Every last inch of you missed how he kissed you and touched you and made you beg for more.

You look over your appearance in the mirror, giddy and happy with what he’s just confessed to you. You take off your clothes and leave on the red lace bra and panty set you have underneath. Running out of the bedroom, you get to the top of the staircase and see him closing the front door and locking it.

He turns around to see what you’re wearing and his jaw falls slack. A burst of confidence comes over you and you tauntingly walk down the stairs, ever so slowly, wanting him to look at you enviously. Even the way he looked tonight had you weak. Treading lightly down the stairs, you look over his perfect frame and how badly you want to tear his clothes off of him. You walk up to him and drag his hand down across the front of your body, cupping your breasts and making him follow your every move with his eyes.

“Goddamn Mama, you look so good,” he says as he licks his lips sensually.

You smirk at him and grab the collar of his shirt, pushing him against your needy body.

“What was it exactly you had in mind tonight that the whole house needed to be cleared out?” He teases, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Well, a few things actually. I’ve had a lot of time to think what I wanted from you,” you say low.

He hums amused, “And what have you wanted baby?” He asks as he pushes you into his hips firmly, feeling his length twitch in his pants. You bite your lip from keeping the moan you want to let out.

You tauntingly push him away from you, looking up at his gorgeous face.

“I’ve been needing you to take care of me and use that mouth to please me,” you say.

“I can do that baby,” he says breathlessly.

“Good. Come on,” you say, taking his hand and leading him through the house. You had explored the house by yourself a few times and wanted to take him to the basement. As you walk down the stairs, you glance over at him in the reflection of the mirrors that line the sides and ceiling of the stairwell. He looks over your backside and gently pulls a lock of hair that falls down the middle of your back. You smirk to yourself, still in denial you have him so in love with you. You pull him to the U-shaped couch and you take a seat in the middle of it, spreading your legs a bit as you look up at him.

“What we doin’ down here?” He teases.

“Shhh, take off your clothes for me,” you instruct, brushing your hair off your chest and making sure he’s looking at every inch of you. He smirks at you and nods his head.

He peels his jacket off of him and you watch as his nimble fingers work off every button of his shirt. He drops that to the floor and then reaches for the button of his pants. You could see the outline of his hard cock and it made you wet just looking at it. He lets his pants fall to the floor and kicks them to the side.

A pleased moan escapes your lips as you take in what you see, taking a deep breath before you begin to speak.

“Mmm… you look damn good too. Come closer,” you tease him. “I want you on your knees, now,” you tell him, standing right in front of you. He nods at you in a daze and sinks down slowly, staring at your body in front of him.

You put your legs over his shoulder as your hand trails down slowly into your panties. He looks at you starved, not being able to hide the fact he’s desperate for you. You discover how wet you are and rub your bud softly, creating the utmost amount of friction that makes you feel good.

“I’m so wet for you,” you groan.

His heated stare intensifies, “Fuck, I know baby,” he breathes.

“Here’s what I need you to do. I want you to use that tongue of yours and eat me. Make me come all over your mouth,” you instruct. He groans, liking the sound of that. “I can do that honey.”

You slip off your panties and reach for his arm, lifting his fingers to your mouth. You put two of his fingers in your mouth and suck on them, swirling your tongue around them to get them all wet. He cusses under his breath and his eyes plead for you.

You put your legs back on his shoulder and guide his wet fingers to your folds.

“I want these inside me too,” you tell him. He rubs his fingers through your folds and nods his head drunkenly.

He can’t wait any longer and groans heavily as his two wet fingers spread your folds open. He leans down and begins to lick your folds, devouring your pussy. The moment his mouth is on you, you are a puddle. You hold onto a fist full of his hair as you feel your body weaken with every lick of his tongue. You could have sworn the last time he did this, it couldn’t get any better but now, you swear this is the best thing you’ve ever felt.

He suckles at your clit, making the throbbing in your core grow more for him. He doesn’t need much direction, he knows just where you like it and responds to your body so effortlessly. Your hips grind into his face and he groans when he feels this.

“Just like that baby,” you moan, pulling his hair tighter. He moans into you and works his tongue to your entrance, teasing and lapping there without entering inside. It was agonizing the way he’d give you so much yet not enough attention to your needy body. His thumb finds your aching bud and rubs it in circles as his tongue focuses on your core. You can feel the coil in your belly tighten and it won’t be long until you come apart.

He suddenly stops to look up at you and the most devious smirk forms on his face.

“Fuck baby you’re tasting so good. I’m going to keep you up all night,” he groans. Your heart leaps out of your chest and you moan his name.

He keeps looking at you, drunk on your body. He suddenly slips his finger inside you, all the way to his knuckle. You moan out, not having had anything inside you for some time. His long finger teased and felt out your wet walls, making you want more. He can read your expressions like a book now and knows you want more. So he slips a second finger inside you, then, a third. You gasp and he pumps his fingers deep inside you and teases you the way you like.

“Oh fuck, baby, yes. Yes right there,” you whimper. Your arousal drips down his fingers and his mouth is back on your clit, sucking and fucking you with his long digits. He moans more as he eats you, not getting enough of you.

“Make me come, baby, please make me come,” you beg him. He obeys and curls his fingers deep inside of you, suckling your clit and that’s when you see blinding stars in your eyes. Your body shutters and your core clenches around his fingers. Your whole body feels warm and trembles under him. He takes his fingers out of you and licks at your entrance, thrusting his tongue inside you and making it hard to breathe.

“So good baby. Oh my god,” you groan as he continues to lap at your folds. He makes these ungodly pent-up groans as he puts both of his hands on your hips, moving your body lower on the couch to eat you with more fervor. The way his mouth worshipped you made you ache for him. Your body shakes and you could have him do this all night. You pull back at his hair and make him look at you, slick covering his face.

“You did so good baby. Made me feel so good,” you say breathless, “Now it’s my turn. Sit down.”

He looks as though he wants to protest, but you don’t let him, you pull at his hair, making him groan. “Sit. Down,” you instruct.

He sits on the couch with his back against the pillows, his legs spread open, and his cock hard. You kneel in between his legs, taking his length in your hand and slowly start to jerk it. Your thumb gathers the slick precum around his head and spread it more along his shaft. He groans and closes his eyes as your hand works him.

“Look at me,” you tell him. He does as he’s told and moans louder when he sees your intense gaze.

“I want to suck on your cock baby. I wanna take as much as I can in my mouth and then, I’ll fuck you. Ride it how you like,” you tempt.

Your other hand finds his heavy balls and you massage them in your hand, making him groan loudly.

“Fuck mama, please. Put your mouth on me.” He begs, his hand reaching out to squeeze one of the pillows on the couch.

You tease him with kisses first, getting inches away from his cock, but move somewhere else and repeat it over and over. He lets out the most frustrated groans as your hand moves along his shaft. You finally give in and swirl your tongue around his head. He lets out a pleased groan and cusses your name.

“Fuck baby I’ve missed that mouth,” he sighs. You hum gently and take more of him in your mouth, sucking and licking the bottom of his shaft. Your other hand continues to massage his balls, making him buck into your mouth. You find his hand and bring it to the back of your head, making him grip a fist full of hair. You moan when you feel the pressure there and take more of him in your mouth. His body tenses up and you groan when you feel his length hit the back of your throat.

“Goddamn baby, you’re killing me,” he groans through his teeth, pulling on your hair tighter. You slowly take his cock out of your mouth and suck at the tip of it, making eye contact with him.

“Oh I’m sorry, you want me to stop or take more?” you tease. He doesn’t say anything right away, just begs with his eyes. You wait for his answer, rubbing your thumb along his tip. He bucks his hips up as you play with his sensitive head over and over.

“Fuck, take more baby, give me more, please. Put my cock down your throat,” he pleads. Your core squeezes at the sound of his words and you bite your lip at him.

“Okay, help me take more then,” you insinuate. He takes a deep breath and looks down at you hungrily.

You tremble a bit, wrapping your lips around him once more, and move faster on him, taking his long length deep inside your mouth. He moans your name loudly, his hips moving with each thrust of your mouth, helping you take more of him. You can feel your arousal leak out of you and down the side of your thigh. You squeeze your legs together, hoping that would stop the throbbing so you can focus on him more. But it doesn’t and you just have to suffer through it.

You relax your jaw and let his cock fuck your throat, taking as much of his length as you can. His hand finds your hair again and cusses your name, thrusting up into you. You want to crumble right there at how he says your name and grunts as his cock is stuffed in your throat. The way he sounded was so unbelievably hot and erotic. Your hand finds your folds and you slowly rub your clit, sending a shockwave through you. You let out a guttural moan as your fingers work on you and send a vibration through him. He gasps as you move faster on him, wanting him to come. You can feel his body tense up, unable to hold back anymore. Your tongue works the underside of his shaft and his hips stutter into you, feeling his cock pulse and pour his hot seed down your throat. You moan as he finishes, loving that you’ve made him feel this good.

“Ah fuck baby, yes. Oh God yesss,” he whimpers, thrusting a few more times into you as the last bit of seed comes out of him.

You slowly pull him out of your mouth, making sure he watches you swallow everything he poured into you. He groans when he sees you swallow, giving him a slight smirk when you do so. You go back to tease his head, licking every so gently but knowing he is sensitive from his release. He gasps as he feels your tongue back on him.

“Oh mama, no. Too sensitive,” he whimpers. You don’t listen though, you keep teasing, liking to hear the different moans and whimpers you get out of him. He tries to squirm out of your grasp, sitting up straighter on the couch.

You stop momentarily, looking at him with a smug grin on your face. You straddle his hips, taking his length in your hand and lining him up to your entrance. He was still a bit hard so you knew he’d get inside you with ease. You slowly sink down on him, your wetness covering his cock completely. He whimpers in agony, looking at you shocked.

“This better baby? Don’t you like it when my pussy squeezes around you,” you taunt with a roll of your hips. He lets his head fall back onto the couch, breathing heavily and groaning.

“Fuck… Fuck you’re killing me.” He groans. You roll your hips once again and he shoots his head up to look at you.

“Don’t lie to me, baby. I know you love this,” you groan into his ear. He nods his head at you, clutching onto your body tight.

“Yes, you feel so good. Agh ride me please,” he moans deeply. You rock your hips slowly on him, taking only a few inches at a time. You make his head tilt up to the mirrored ceiling, “Watch how I ride you. Watch how I like to ride your cock.” You groan, slowly moving up and down on him. You lean away from his body and place your hands on his chest.

You could feel his length getting hard again inside you, filling you even better than before. You watch as he keeps his eyes open as you slowly fuck him. He looks so perfect like his, being so submissive to you and completely at your mercy. You look over his body, seeing how there’s this vein that bulges out of his neck when you ride him faster and he’s trying not to come again. Pulling his hair swiftly, he shoots his eyes open and looks at you intently. You kiss him passionately, your tongue tangling with his and moaning deeply. He smiles between kisses and you pull away slightly, watching his dark hungry eyes get even darker.

“Feed baby. I want you to take a bite,” you coo. He stills and looks at you shocked.

“Honey, but I-,” he tries to say but you cut him off.

“No buts. You need it,” you tell him. You take his hand and make his fingers trace the top of your shoulder where it meets your neck. “Bite right here. I want you to feel good baby,” you coo.

This time, he doesn’t need to be told twice as he places his hand on the back of your head and pulls you in, kissing up and down your neck. You sink down on the rest of his length and grind at the base of his cock, pulling his body flush to yours. He hisses and nips at your neck, grumbling to himself.

“Are you really gonna ride me as I do this? Such a naughty fucking girl,” he growls, pushing his hips up into you. Your heart starts to hammer away in your chest and you want him more than you ever have.

You gasp at how good he feels and you hold onto his shoulders tight, wrapping your arms around his neck and your fingers intertwining in his hair. You hear his breathing pick up and he starts to growl. You know his fangs have descended and is ready. Your hips roll onto him and you let out a breathy sigh, “Please,” you beg.

He holds you tight and sinks his teeth into you, groaning as he does so. You can tell he was trying to be gentle and not hurt you too much. His sharp fangs stung when they entered your skin but by no means felt like how you were bitten before by Raphael or Daniel. You swivel your hips and a new pleasurable sensation floods your mind and body. He felt so good like this. You feel his tongue dance on your skin, lapping at your blood seeping out of you. He moans as he tastes you, pushing his cock in and out of you ever so slowly.

“Fuck baby yes, just like that,” you groan, pushing the back of his head into your neck more. You feel him suck harder on you, drinking more of your blood. His hands move to the front of your body and they find your breasts, squeezing them firmly. You close your eyes, letting all these sensations take over your body. You fuck him harder, feeling the heat in your belly roar for more. Gasping and groaning for him, you feel his hands wander to your hips now, stilling you as he fills you to the hilt. You gasp, not having had him do this to you in such a long time. It felt like he was going to break you in two with his cock.

He gently starts to take his mouth off of you, licking at the remaining blood coming out of the wound. He looks at you in the eye and gives you a mischievous little grin, his blue eyes emerging and red disappearing.

“Oh baby,” he growls, “Such a fucking dirty girl. Liking to be fucked and fed from hmm?” He groans.

You take a short breath, trying to focus on him and not how his cock is completely ruining you.

“Y-yes baby. I like it a lot,” you whimper, feeling the mood of the room shift completely.

He tsks his tongue disapprovingly, “What am I to do with you? Maybe I should keep ruining you all night,” he says darkly.

“Y-y-yes… please,” you breathe. He hums softly and picks you off of him.

“You’re gonna be a good little girl for daddy? I listened to you, now you need to listen to me,” he groans in your ear. You nod quickly and hold onto him tightly.

He takes your hand and leads you back up the stairs to his bedroom.

“Get on the bed baby, on your back,” he commands, his eyes serious and domineering. Your heart pounded in your ears, unable to function properly with how he was looking at you.

He grows impatient, not liking how you’re not listening to him.

“I thought you said you’d listen,” he says gruffly, giving your ass a swift spank.

“Sorry Daddy,” you whimper, biting your lip and slowly turning around to crawl onto the bed. You lay down and your hands trail over your breasts, making sure he’s looking at you.

He smugly smiles at you, plotting what he wants from you next.

“Open those pretty legs for me, baby,” he says, taking his cock in his hand. Your slick still covered his shaft and made a wet, sloppy sonance as he rubbed himself. You moan inwardly as it drove you crazy, wishing he would just take you now. But no, he wanted to play with you.

You part your legs a bit, staring up at him patiently, knowing this isn’t what he wants from you. He looks at you disapprovingly.

“Come on baby, am I going to have to put you in the position I want you, or you gonna be a good girl and do it for me?” He grumbles.

“I’ll be good, but I want your hands to do the work,” you retort. He bites his lip, gets on the bed, and pushes your legs wide apart.

“You’re just begging to be ruined aren’t ya?” He says as he gets in between your legs and his thumb finds your clit, “You want me to fuck you til the sun comes up and make you beg for more is that it?” He growls.

“Mhmm… I know you want that too,” you moan as he plays with you, making your whole body turn aflame. He pushes your legs up, closer to your chest, and holds them there.

“Fine baby, I’ll ruin this little pussy all night,” he says taking his length in his hand. He rubs his cock through your wet folds, making you moan with need. He sighs when he does this too, looking at how much your body aches for him.

“Look how wet you are for me, dying to have me fuck you,” you groan as his tip teases your entrance. You gasp when you realize you’re more sensitive than you thought.

“Yes, Elvis, please fuck me,” you beg.

In one swift motion, he thrusts his length inside you, making you cry out in pleasure. He moved in long rolling thrusts, making sure you felt every inch of him go inside of you. He can’t help but cuss when he’s deep inside you, moaning how good you feel. His hands grab onto your thighs, squeezing them tightly as he pounds into you faster.

You writhe underneath him, unable to look at him above you for too long. With the way he was taking you, you knew it wouldn’t be long til you came undone. His hand slithers to your throat, making your eyes pop back open to look at him.

“Let me see those pretty eyes baby. Let me watch how much you like this,” he says with a snap of his hips. You groan in agony, staring into his lust-filled blue eyes. His gaze was so intense, too much to handle for a poor human. You can’t help but moan his name, watching how a smirk would form on his face when you said it.

“So good Daddy, feels so good,” you gasp out.

“I know mama I know, taking me so good,” he breathes. Your eyes trail down to see where you two are meeting, watching how each thrust of his hips makes you more wet. Your arousal gathers at the base of his cock in a sticky puddle and groan louder, overwhelmed with everything that you’re feeling and seeing.

You can’t seem to stop moaning for him, cursing his name, or crying out for him to keep going. Thank God no one was in the house, it was a good decision to make after all.

His hand caresses your face, turning your full attention back to him.

“I know baby, I won’t stop. You feel too good to stop now. So fucking wet and tight for me,” your eyes roll back at his words and groan loudly. You feel his fingers press against your lips and you instinctually open them for him to put them in your mouth.

“Suck on these baby, shhh nice and quiet. Listen to how wet you are when I fuck you,” he groans. You feel your heart thump out of control and suck on his fingers, trying to stay quiet but know this is pure torture.

He moves slowly again, making slow, wet sounds come out of you. You grab onto his wrist, squeezing it tightly as his hips move faster into you and make the most obscene sounds come out of your core. You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the coil in your belly about to snap any second. Your walls begin to flutter and you look up at Elvis with pleading eyes. He keeps you in his gaze, not letting you come just yet. He wanted you to beg for it. He fucks you harder, watching how you writhe underneath him for your release. You whimper for him, begging with your eyes to have him let you finish.

“Goddamn baby, being so good. I know you wanna come now. Come for me,” he coos, taking his fingers out of your mouth and rubbing your clit as he grunts deeply.

You see stars in your vision once more and cry out his name, your core squeezing around him. He cusses under his breath and moans loudly. It all felt so intense like it was the first time all over again. His thrusts become ragged and sporadic as he groans your name and comes inside you. You feel how much he’s come, filling you with it and gasping for breath. You feel light and exhausted at the same time. Nothing can give you the same feelings Elvis gives you. He swivels his hips lazily while he’s still inside you, making you squirm with how sensitive you are. You gasp for air and try to calm down your frantic breathing as his cock still stuffs you. God, you don’t understand how he drives you this crazy but you’ll never get enough of him.

He hums softly to himself and kisses you deeply, breathing in and taking in your scent.

“Mine,” he growls into your mouth.

“Yours,” you whimper back, kissing him with need.

He lets go of your legs and lets you wrap them around his torso, keeping you two pieced together. He quickly breaks the kiss and smiles at you, brushing back the hair that’s fallen on your face.

“Say it again for me,” he begs. You smirk at him, not needing to ask what he’s referencing.

“I love you,” you whisper. He kisses your cheek and you can feel his lips turn into a smile.

“Again,” he moans.

“I love you,” you whimper. He moves down to your neck, kissing and nipping there.

“Again baby,” he whines.

“I love you, baby.”

“Forever?” He asks.

“Forever.”

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