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mirisss · 1 year ago

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Haunting Shadows prequel

Vampire! Mafia! Ateez OT8 x afab! reader

Wordcount ≈ 2.2k

Warnings: mentions of weapons, blood, violence, mentions of someone being unalived, being chased, involuntarily put to sleep, I think that’s it,

Thank you for the request! I hope you like it! I wrote it at 4 am when I couldn’t sleep so the ending isn’t the best.

Please reblog!

Third Person POV

In a deep dark alley, somewhere downtown. A group of six men gathered around a seventh man lying on the ground. The man on the ground tried to shield himself from the haunting red glowing eyes staring down at him. The blood-red eyes paired with the guns pointed in his direction, made him realize that he was not getting out of this alley alive. One of the six men took a step forward as two others seemed to appear out of nowhere, or rather, they seemed to be appearing from the shadows. The man who had stepped forward had red hair that almost seemed to glow but right in front of the scared man, the hair morphed from red to black and the facial features of the previous red-haired man changed too. He went from someone the scared man had never seen to someone he recognized quite well.

“Hello, Lee Jaejoong,” Jaejoong tried to move backward but his back met with a wall stopping his tried escape. “Who are you?” The eight men around him all smirked, revealing sharp fangs, causing him to hold his breath. “My name is Wooyoung, and these are my blood brothers, you may know us as Ateez,” Jaejoong’s heart sank as he recognized the name, Ateez, the largest mafia in the country. Ateez, a mafia group known to not leave anyone who has wronged them alive. “Please, please, I’ll do anything, just please, don’t kill me,” A shorter man stepped forward, giving a silent cue to Wooyoung who immediately stepped back again. “Yeosang, are you sure he is the one?” “Yes, captain, his scent is a complete match to the blood we found,” “Jaejoong, Jaejoong, Jaejoong… mm… and here I thought our partnership was going so well but you just had to mess it up, what a shame” The one called captain, moved around a little while sending a terrifying glare to the man on the ground. “Yunho, Mingi, take care of him. Jongho, keep guard. Seonghwa, San. Go fetch the car, no need to waste any more time on this one,” “Hongjoong, captain, someone’s getting close,”

It was around 10 pm when (Y/n) decided to leave the university library to head home. Her back hurt from crouching for a few hours, trying to study as much as she could for an upcoming exam. Only a few students were still around, most of them studying with a few just hanging out with their friends. (Y/n) walked along her usual path, soon approaching the part she hated walking by. It was a dark alley downtown. While she had never seen or heard anyone there, she always felt uneasy walking past it but there were no other paths she could walk to get home from uni so she couldn’t avoid it. She took up her phone, prepared to call for help should anything happen.

For the first time, as (Y/n) came close to the alley she found a light coming from deep within the alley. Her unease increased, that could only mean that someone was down there, she thought. Just as (Y/n) came to the opening of the alley, she saw two dark figures walking in her direction as she heard a loud noise. It sounded frighteningly familiar to a gun being fired, followed by a scream. Or rather two screams. One from whoever was shot and one from (Y/n).

(Y/n) ran as fast as she could away from the alley, continuing her way home. Hoping that whoever had been walking toward her from the alley wouldn’t follow her, but if they were following she hoped they wouldn’t be able to catch up with her.

“Hongjoong, captain, someone’s getting close,” Hongjoong turned to Yeosang who looked worried after picking up an unfamiliar scent coming closer to them. “Hwa, San, check it out on your way,” “Yes, sir,” As they began walking away, they could make out the shape of a girl or woman in the distance. Just as they were within eyesight of the human, a gunshot rang through the alley followed by a scream that bounced off the walls out toward the road. Within a second, another scream resonated through the eight vampire’s ears. Seonghwa and San saw the human look at them and then run for their life away from them. “Catch her,” Seonghwa muttered to which San ran full speed after the human.

(Y/n) was terrified as she heard loud footsteps in pursuit of her. Please, I don’t want to die, not like this. She was getting tired after running for a few minutes, not even the adrenaline pumping through could keep her going for much longer. (Y/n) turned her head to try and see just how close the person behind her was only to find no one, feeling hopeful she turned her head back thinking she was safe, only to see a man standing a few meters in front of her. He seemed completely unfazed while (Y/n) was panting loudly, coming to a complete stop only three steps away from the man. What the hell? How did he get in front of me? (Y/n)’s eyes shot open as wide as they could when she looked into the, very attractive, man’s eyes only to find them shifting from a deep brown to a glowing purple.

San was surprised by the overwhelming warmth that emerged throughout his entire body when he met the human’s eyes. His sight disappeared for a second only to come back a bit hazy, a purple tint now colored the world. A tint he had experienced before when he first met the other seven vampires in his group. This human, was their final soulmate. The missing piece of their connection.

“Please don’t hurt me,” (Y/n) didn’t know what to do, her legs felt weak from the running and suddenly her heart was beating fast not only from fear and the running, but from the way this man was looking at her. While his gaze was threatening, it didn’t seem malicious, no it seemed more like longing. Another pair of footsteps could be heard approaching from behind (Y/n), but she didn’t dare look away from the man in front of her. “San, what’s going on?” “Hwa-hyung, it’s her,” “I may be older than you but I am not dumb, obviously this is the one who overheard our business,” “No, hyung, I mean she’s the final one,” Seonghwa stared at San a bit confused, it wasn’t until Seonghwa looked at his younger soulmate’s eyes that he realized what he meant. “Our soulmate?” San couldn’t do more than give a slight nod in answer, to captivated by the woman in front of him.

Seonghwa carefully approached the human and put his hand on her shoulder, applying a bit of pressure to turn her toward him. (Y/n) was surprised both by the action but also by the handsome face she was now only mere centimeters from. The deep brown eyes of this man also shifted into a purple color, making the human gasp. Seonghwa shivered from the feeling of experiencing the first look at his final soulmate. The vampire quickly gathered himself though, shaking away the lovesick feeling that had made San freeze. The purple color in his eyes slowly faded back to brown only to shift into a glowing red. Seonghwa looked deep into (Y/n)’s eyes before he whispered: Sleep. (Y/n) immediately felt drowsy as her legs grew even weaker and her eyelids grew heavy, before she knew it she faded into unconsciousness. Seonghwa captured her body as she fell asleep. “Let’s go to the others,” San had finally managed to shake away the shock and could finally move and think freely again.

The two vampires didn’t make it far before their six other soulmates approached them with questioning looks as they noticed the unconscious woman in Seonghwa’s arms. “Boys, let me introduce you to our soulmate,” Mingi gasped loudly while Wooyoung shouted out of joy. Yunho and Jongho looked at each other with happy smiles as Hongjoong and Yeosang both only looked down at the woman. No one said anything more as they simply walked to their van, bringing the human with them to their home.

When (Y/n) woke up she could barely recall anything from the night before. Her memory felt foggy, she remembered walking home from uni but somewhere in the middle of the walk, everything turned black. The bed she was sleeping on was unfamiliarly soft and big. (Y/n) sat up and tried to shake off the sleepiness to focus on her surroundings. She quickly realized that this was not her bedroom nor any room in her apartment nor was it any of her friend’s homes. Hell, this room was pretty much as big as her entire apartment. (Y/n) looked around for her phone as quietly as she could but to no avail, she couldn’t find it anywhere.

“She’s awake,” Yeosang said as he walked into the kitchen where the other seven vampires were gathered. “Earlier than usual,” Yunho pointed out. “It might not have been as effective because of the mating bond,” Seonghwa responded, usually when he used his gift of absolute command the effect wouldn’t subside for at least 12 hours, especially not the sleep command. Yet this time, it had only worked for about 8 hours. “That’s most likely it, the mating bond is known to mess with the effectiveness of gifts,” Hongjoong said before taking a sip of his coffee. “Should we go meet her?” Mingi asked, quite excited to finally meet the missing piece of their bond. “Yeah, let’s go,” Jongho said excitedly. “Come on, I really want to see her,” Wooyoung whined, he was ready to break down the door just to see her. “Let’s do it,” Hongjong said, as the leader he was the one to have the final say on most decisions they made, though sometimes Seonghwa as the oldest would be the one in charge, it depended on the situation.

The eight vampires walked toward the room in which (Y/n) was still trying to find her phone. She didn’t stop searching until she heard the door creaking as it opened. (Y/n) turned toward the door coming to face eight unfamiliar men, six out of these men caught her attention one by one as their eyes slowly blossomed from brown to purple. This awakened a memory from the prior night, brown eyes turning purple, she also faintly remembered something red too. It took her a few moments until everything came back to her. Walking home, seeing the alley being lit up, hearing a gunshot, screams, running, facing two of these eight men before becoming unconscious and waking up in the unfamiliar room.

Hongjoong, Yunho, Yeosang, Mingi, Wooyoung, and Jongho were all overcome with the euphoric feeling of meeting their soulmate. Seonghwa was the first to step into the room, a kind smile grazed his lips as he tried to make the human feel less scared. “I apologize about all of this, what happened yesterday and us barging in like this. All of it will make sense in a few moments if we may explain it to you,” He stopped speaking for a second, clearly indicating that he expected an answer from (Y/n) to his half-question-half-statement. (Y/n) didn’t dare deny it so she simply nodded her head. “Good, my name is Seonghwa, and you remember San from last night, the red-haired one is Wooyoung, the tall blonde one is Mingi, the other tall one is Yunho, the buff one is Jongho, this is Hongjoong our leader, and finally we have our handsome Yeosang. What is your name?”

“I’m (Y/n),” (Y/n) couldn’t help but notice the fangs that protruded from Seonghwa’s mouth as he smiled and spoke. Eyes that turn purple and red, super speed or something like it, making me fall asleep just like that, fangs, soulmate… What kind of freaky fantasy book have I fallen into? Are they vampires? No way, right? “(Y/n), what a beautiful name,” Yunho said as he smiled brightly, showing his fangs which only confirmed (Y/n)’s delusional thought. “Are you vampires or am I going crazy?” They all chuckled at (Y/n)’s question, a little surprised that she had put it together so quickly.

“You are correct, we are, indeed, vampires. And you dear (Y/n), are our soulmate,” Wooyoung said as he sent a wink her way as well as a beautiful smile, a smile that revealed yet another set of fangs to the human. (Y/n) just nodded before she turned her back to the men, counting her fingers to try and see if she was dreaming but she found 10 fingers confirming she was awake. She turned back to the alleged vampires. “Please explain all of this in detail because I still think I am asleep,” After a lengthy explanation and discussion on how they were vampires and what a soulmate meant with more. The nine soulmates began their relationship that would continue for eternity as (Y/n), even though she is human, was gifted immortality to be able to accompany her soulmates forever.

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alexdelray1 · 6 months ago

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42 Miles x Fem Reader.

Song: Just like fire, by Pink.

I encourage to order and read. ;).

Part two:

-Reader, would you like some tea? - said a voice from another room.

I ignored him. I didn't want to answer when I was listening to my favorite song.

I know that I'm running out of time. I want it all…

The footsteps approached my room and stopped in front of it.

“Are you going to hang there all day?” Miles asked me. My boyfriend of two months. I was just hanging from a sash while practicing aerial sport. It was a combination of gymnastics, dance acrobatics and strength training. I had to do it to stay in shape. Spider-woman needs to train from time to time.

And I'm wishing they'd stop tryingna turn me off. I want it all…

-It's better to hang on a wire than on a line. - I commented and made another pose in which I was upside down. Of course, Miles doesn't know that I'm the hero of New York. He has a specific opinion about heroes.

-So, are you finally going to take part in some competition? You can do all this, but you don't want to show it off. - Miles said and put the cup of tea on the shelf. He walked up to me and directed me towards him.

-You know, it's all money. You need a costume, a personal trainer, a manager and everything. - I made an excuse that was somewhat true in a way. I can't appear on TV as Reader. Someone might recognize my body structure or the technique of my movements.

-I understand, but you have money like no other.- he commented, looking around the room.

-Yes, but my parents are frugally frugal.- another excuse. It's not like they bought me 20 Sims expansions and promise me more for the red bar.

-Yes, thrifty and they bought it for you.- Miles said and pointed to the sash. Fuck, the fucking son of a bitch has eyes. Fucking bottom.

-Well, I promised them that I would keep my virginity until marriage.- I said. I lie like crazy. But well, I'm like a priest who tells Catholics that he didn't touch any children. And he touched.

-Yeah something that doesn't exist anymore.- Miles laughed and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

-Just like altar boys.- I laughed. My 'watch' beeped, so I got off the sash.

And I'm walking on a wire trying to go higher, feels like I'm surrounded by clowns and liars. Even If I give it all away, I want it all.

"Do you have anything planned again?" Miles asked me and crossed his arms. This happened to me very often, that someone from the spiderverse needed me.

-Yeah, I have to help Jurek cut wood.- I said in the crowd. I quickly went to the hall and started putting on my shoes. I quickly took my backpack and opened the door.

-But everyone here- Miles didn't finish.

-Bye!- I said and ran out the door.

-They live in blocks…-

I quickly put on my costume in an alley, automatically (electrically).

We came here to run it, run it, run it.

I climbed the building and looked down.

We came here to run it, run it, run it.

I jumped and started swinging on the buildings.

Just like fire, burning up the way, If I can light the world up for just one day.

The feelings are the same as always. Excitement, disbelief and happiness.

Watch this madness, colorful charade.

And this one highest jump through which I can see the whole of New York

No one can be just like me any way.

I see so much and nothing, but it's still not enough, I will do this for the rest of my life.

Just like magic, I'll be flying free.

I remember the first time I did it and everyone was looking at me.

I'ma disappear when they come for me.

They look at me now too, but not like they did then.

I kick that ceiling what you're gonna say.

Then I was seen as something new, unpredictable and unknown…

No one can be just like me any way.

And now, I am hope.

Just like fire.

I entered the old building through the window. I don't want to risk some random guy having an existential crisis. I pressed something on the watch and Gwen's hologram came out.

-Hi Gwen, nice to see you. What's up? - I asked.

-You have to help me. "Seriously," she said nervously.

-Who do I need to fuck up? - I asked.

-That's not the point. See, I have to go to planet 1610 and--

-See your boyfriend?- I asked ;)

-No… Not only that. I also need to see some anomaly and I want to spend some time there with Miles. Can you cover for me? You know, if Miguel asks you where I am, tell him it's just too late and it's okay because he means he won't believe me - she asked hopefully.

-Sure, just don't confuse it with mine.- I joked.

-All right. Thank you. Bye, she said and hung up.

-Bye…. Time for patrol… - I said and jumped out of the window (dream).

And people like to laugh at you cause they are all the same. See I would rather we just go our diffrent way and play the game.

I entered my house after a few hours of patrol. I can finally chill out.

And no matter the weather we can do it better, you and me together forever and ever. We don't have to worry about a thing no.

I looked down and Miles' shoes were gone. I feel a bit bad now that it turned out this way. I left it at my house, I would feel weird if someone did that to me.

Beep.

We came here to run it, run it, run it.

I looked at my watch.

We came here to run it, run it, run it.

-What's going on again?- I asked tired and irritated.

-Miles, he's in danger,- Gwen said nervously.

-Which Miles?- I asked her.

-There's a good chance two. My Miles is in your universe and I think he might be in your Miles' apartment.- she replied. Fucking hell, whoa. What the fuck am I going to do? Well, of course I will save him. What if Miles has a heart attack or something when he sees himself but not himself? My love interest might fucking die.

-Okay, I'll go get him. - I said and was about to hang up.

-Wait, don't bring it to HQ.- she stopped me.

-Why?- I asked her.

-Just, I'll explain later. Okay?-

-Okay, but you have a slight debt. Bye, I said and hung up.

Now I have to save my lady in trouble. It happens to the best Sigmas.

Just like fire burning up the way.

If I could light the world up for just one day.

Watch this madness colorful charade.

No one can be just like me any way.

Just like magic, I'll be flying free.

I'ma disappear when they come for me.

I kick that ceiling what you're gonna say.

No one can be just like me any way.

Just like fire.

I climbed into Miles' room through the window. Nothing new, it has its own figures and other things.

-Oh, Reader. What are you doing here so late? - the woman who opened the door to Miles' room asked me. It was his mother, Rio.

-Good evening. Do you know where Miles is? - I asked her with a smile.

-He was here about an hour ago and went with Uncle Aron. Did you help him undo his braids?" she asked me.

-What--? Oh yeah, sure. It took a long time. I'll be going now.- I said.

I said goodbye to my probably future mother-in-law and went to the roof of the building.

If Miles didn't have braids, it means Mrs. Rio didn't see our Miles. I need to see Aron's apartment.

I put on my costume and started heading towards Uncle Aron's house.

So look, I came here to run it.

Just cause nobody's done it.

Y'all don't think I can run it.

But look I've been here I've done it.

Impossible please.

Watch I do it with ease.

You just gotta believe.

Come on come on with me.

I climbed onto the window but didn't go through it.

Oh, what's a girl to do.

I looked through it, but I didn't really realize what the situation was.

Oh, what's a girl to do.

I saw Miles without his braids, i.e. 1610, tied to a punching bag.

Oh, what's a girl to do.

Aron left the room saying something to him and after a while, came out… Prowler?

Oh, what's a girl to do.

He got close to Miles and said something while taking off his mask. Wait, is that?

Just like fire burning up the way.

If I could light the world up for just one day.

Watch this madness, colorful charade.

Miles?

No one can be just like me any way!

#x reader #fem reader #spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderman #spider woman #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader

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sapphicwizards · 7 months ago

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“I have to hand it to you,” said the professor. “It is courageous of you to stand against one such as me.”

Two wizards faced each other under the mid-day sun. It was a hot spring day, the kind that's pleasant when you're in the forest or by the water, but here on the open stone road, the heat and humidity was oppressive. A young woman stood across from her opponent. Where he wore purple satin robes, her garb was a simply sewn tunic in traditional patterned weave. Where he carried a silver staff tipped with sapphire, she held a twisting bough of willow.

Heddle spat blood onto the road stones. She used her staff to steady herself, one hand holding her side. “I’m not feeling very courageous right now,” she coughed. She was caught off guard by his latest force-blast and took damage to her right lung. She was able to cast a spell to repair it but needed to buy some time for it to finish doing its work. Hopefully her opponent would think the fight is over. Wizards who cough up blood don’t usually make it another round. But she was not only a wizard. “My mother taught me... She said that courage is when you are afraid but...” She trailed off. Heddle didn't need to pretend to be in pain.

The man relaxed his fighting stance. Good, she thought. His face relaxed as well, though he was still red, and his lip still curled upwards in disgust.

He began calmly walking towards her. Before he reached her, the spell finished and Heddle felt a wave of relief as the pain melted away. She smiled. At this, the elf's eyes widened and he resumed his fighting stance. “I don’t care what your witch mother has to say about courage. Provincial filth.”

Mom isn't even a witch, she thought. Heddle put her arms behind her back and stood up straight in a mocking posture. This way she could begin casting a spell without him noticing. It was an offensive spell she’d concocted exactly for scenarios like this one. “Well, you see,” she said with a smug grin, “the reason I’m not feeling very courageous right now-”

“-you’re dead, girl,” the wizard interrupted. Heddle noted a hint of panic in his voice. Maybe he realized that he had no idea what was going on. If she could recover from something like that and keep fighting, then she must know magic completely unfathomable to him. He would be right.

The elf began to chant up another force blast but Heddle finished her spell first. She lifted both her arms in front of her and pointed both index fingers at him. The elf furrowed his brow, but before he could counter, two beams of blue light erupted from Heddle’s fingers meeting at the wizard’s feet. He looked down. Pop. The spell exploded and sent the elf spinning backwards and upwards through the air. His silver staff sparkled in the sun as it spun off in a different direction. Only a moment later, the wizard was crumpled on the ground in a heap of shiny lavender fabric.

Heddle ran up to the professor's landing place. He appeared to be unconscious, but she didn’t want to make the same mistake he had. After some inspection, she assessed that he was in fact conscious. Good. He had however dislocated a shoulder, broken a hip, and had a collapsed windpipe. Unless he had some tricks up his sleeve like she had, he wouldn’t be casting anything else today, maybe not for quite some time.

She bent down, blocking the sun with her head and spoke in a friendly tone. “I’m not feeling brave, Mr Awen. Because I’m not afraid.” She lied. She was lucky to be alive and she knew it.

Her opponent could not respond. His life was quickly slipping away. Heddle could heal him almost completely right now, but she wouldn’t. The priestesses were not far behind and would find him in an hour or so. The young witch made sure to stabilize him so he would survive the wait. She fixed his windpipe, popped his shoulder back in, and stabilized his hip so the injury wouldn't worsen. There was the matter of his concussion, but that could not be healed by magic, at least not for a witch of her skill. It would be a long and painful wait for rescue.

She needed this moment to be burned into his mind so brightly that he would never even think to go after her and her friends ever again.

Heddle leaned in closer. "Remember this mercy," she said. "If I see you again, I'll kill you." She lied.

#www #fantasy worldbuilding #wizards #wizard shit #writing #trying to write action sequences #which i have very little experience doing #no critique/advice pls unless we know each other #but if you liked it let me know <3 #very short

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peakhumanbehavior · 1 year ago

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Lycans pt2

Alcina Dimitrescu x reader

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Warnings: Hurt/No comfort

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Alcina rambled on and on about 'How that wretched MAID thought that she had ANY right to talk to me like that!?' And how 'Mother Miranda may have mercy on her soul'

The poor maid could only nod in silent agreement as she carefully cleaned up the broken wine glass. As she got up after finally managing to clean the deep red stain off the wall and reached for the door the lady herself turned from her vanity, and cleared her throat, her glare piercing through the much smaller woman

"Did I relieve you from your duties yet?" Her voice dripping with honey, a small broken smile on her painted lips

"No, but I'm done-" The maid tried to reason

"You're. done. when. I. say. you're. done." She punctuated each word, making sure to get her point across

"Now stand by me and wait till I'm done" She commanded, her patience running thin. WHY COULDN'T ANYONE SEE THAT!? IS EVERYONE AROUND HER AN IDIOT??

Her hand unraveled and her claws were unleashed, angrily slicing things. She could replace them later

Suddenly there was a splotch of red, and then another then. . .another

She didn't recall having any wine in the room

A crow landed on the balcony outside, temporarily catching her attention. They both stood there for a moment before the small crow changed into Miranda

"That's the fourth this week, you've been extremely easy to anger since your pet ran away" She circled Alcina before stopping in front of the unfortunate maid who was sliced into pieces

Miranda put one of her golden-clawed fingers on her cheek, showing faux interest

"Y/n wasn't it?"

Your name made Alcina wince, but she couldn't help but smile before she looked down at the dead maid in front of her. . .'The fourth one this week' replayed in her mind

Why did you have that hold on her? Why was she taunted by things that reminded her of you? Why couldn't you just disappear forever?

Light tears formed in the corners of her eyes, this wasn't supposed to happen. You aren't supposed to be gone, there isn't supposed to be a dead woman two feet in front of her. . .Miranda shouldn't be here

She composed herself before speaking

"Mother Miranda, why are you here? If I may ask"

The blue-eyed woman store back at her before reaching into her pocket and pulling out an eerily familiar item

A golden necklace with Alcina and her daughters' names embroidered into it. The light in the room was bright enough to make the necklace shine, and her name highlighted

"Where did you get this from?" She reached a shaky hand out to take it, running her thumb over the names. She suddenly dropped it, the item felt like lava to her touch

"She came to me, she said that she didn't need it anymore" Miranda lied through her teeth and she knew that Alcina knew

The smell of blood overwhelmed her senses as she brought her hands up to her face. This particular scent of blood she knew very well

"Why did she come to you? Was she hurt?" The tall woman picked her words carefully, knowing that if she showed any signs of anger toward Miranda then it would be over and she'd never know what happened

"Severely, she only gave me the necklace though. After that, she walked off, not to be seen again. She probably went to Heisenberg, you know they have a bond" She directed her attention to someone she knew Alcina hated

Alcina couldn't control the anger that coursed through her body at the mention of her brother

"I should go-" The tall woman took two big steps toward the door before she was blocked by Miranda

"No, no. You shouldn't, she wouldn't come back to someone who kicked her out. Heisenberg is treating her very well" She knew that would get a rise out of her but continued

"You don't need her, she doesn't deserve you"

Alcina could only stand there and try to block out whatever Miranda was saying

"But. . ." Her voice was small, her former self peaking through for the first time in decades

"Are you going against my wishes?" Her eyebrow was lifted, and her eyes seemed much brighter, captivating Alcina

She shook her head absentmindedly

"Good girl" She praised

The praise overwhelmed her. Mother Miranda praised her, all of her hard work paid off

What was she crying about again?

"Now Alcina, I'll go get a maid to clean this up while you. Relax" Alcina smiled and nodded before going back to her vanity, taking off her makeup

Miranda smirked as she left, the necklace in her pocket

—-

"Ooo" Salvatore exclaimed as he found a new pile of bones left over from the Lycans' meal, planning on making another bone crown

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#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitriscu x reader #alcina x maiden #alcina x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #re8 alcina #angst #horror franchise #lady dimitrescu x maiden #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x female reader #lady dimitrescu x y/n #LadyDimitrescu

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klmwrites · 23 days ago

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Bishop takes Rook (a pre Black Ops 6 Story)

ao3

Directing his attention back from the room to the chessboard before him, Adler now raised a hand to make his move. On the opposite side of the stage from where the pair were seated one of the staff members near the giant board, upon placing down a pair of binoculars, reached for the cutout of a white bishop and moved it diagonally upwards - replacing the position of the black rook before it.

The audience visibly stirred.

“Bishop takes Rook.” he heard the younger woman murmur under her breath, her mouth set in a firm line as Adler moved a finger to press down on his side of the Fischer clock. Chewing her bottom lip, Bell now turned her attention towards her one remaining rook and king.

“I should tell you Adler, survival is now the main priority of ours now. Her eyes now flicked upwards, gaze directed at Adler as she switched the positions of the aforementioned two pieces with ease. “My job is to do anything to make sure it stays that way.”

AU in which Adler - on the run from the CIA - goes undercover as a competitive chess player where he is made to play a match against a ghost from his past in front of a live studio audience.

In the spirit of respecting those who have yet to play Black Ops 6 (it has only been a week since its release as of this post) this fic will be spoiler free. So go ahead and read to your hearts content 😊

song recommendation (this song slaps ok and for some reason in my head it fits really well don't come @ me lmao) :

Russell Adler

Moscow, Union of Social Socialist Republics

20 March 1990 - 10:00 MSK

Seated at the back of the state-provided saloon car, Adler watched as the huge crowd gathered consisting of the media, adoring fans and curious onlookers alike appeared in the horizon, the once small black blob was now becoming discernibly larger as the vehicle drew closer to its destination. Retrieving a cigarette and his zippo from inside his suit, Adler rolled down the window on his side before lighting the nicotine stick and taking a long drag from it, watching the evidence of his vice float out into the open and vanish from sight.

The speedy little devil that was the maroon coloured automobile sped down the remainder of a seemingly vacant highway before making a sharp right turn, parking itself right before the end of the pavement in what only could be described as in a cartoonish fashion. Opposite stood a building sporting gothic style architecture and right above the pair of twin wooden doors that marked the entrance was a huge banner with the Cyrillic Words ‘Annual Soviet Chess Championship, Moscow’ accompanied by the silhouette icon of a knight chess piece. As soon as he opened the door and stepped out onto the red carpet the flash photography and videographers came into full swing, all of which he had expected at such an event. He was however pleasantly surprised by the cordiality of everyone else around - not once had any member of the public rushed up to him in an attempt to take a photo or sign an autograph. For that Adler was grateful, as the last thing he needed as an rogue agent was close up pictures of his face taken for the world to see. He had changed his aviators and hairstyle in a fashion that he would still be unrecognisable in pictures and videos taken from afar, but any closer and he ran the risk of being identified.

Though he never liked any of the countries behind the iron curtain (for more than just ideological reasons) he was begrudgingly grateful for the match to be taking place in Moscow of all places. Had it been Hollywood or any other western country it would have been a completely different story, and it would have been much harder for him to remain inconspicuous for long given the strong alliance the authorities had with the United States.

Adler made his way into the building with haste and after a quick pat down was escorted by a member of staff to a nearby sitting room to wait for his registration to be confirmed. In this building he was no longer Russell Adler, the framed CIA operative but Lev Balashov, a former KGB agent and aspiring holder of the ranking of Candidate Master in his hobby of competitive chess. Adler only knew of his existence thanks to Belikov, whom he contacted before entry into Moscow. Despite the former's defection, Belikov still knew people on the inside and not only managed to arrange the necessary papers to get Adler into the country, but also gave the former clandestine officer the profile of the man he was to replace.

“Why him of all people?”

“Because my friend, Balashov is a notorious recluse. Only a handful of people have seen his face and they will most definitely not be present at the tournament because he has beaten them all to get to where he currently is.”

“And you are certain that she will be there.”

“Most certainly. Her injuries post Solovestky were serious, so I reckon she is currently taking a much needed break from the field.”

Adler was rudely pulled away from his trip down memory lane upon hearing a member of staff at the door of his assigned dressing room calling out his alias name.

“Mr Balashov? The tournament you are scheduled to participate in will begin in 90 minutes.”

Adler nodded in acknowledgement and after requesting for a cup of coffee, proceeded to light another cigarette as soon as the staff member’s back was turned. He allowed his mind to drift back to her; he had always wondered how she had been doing after all those years. He remembered the surprise he felt upon realising that she had survived what was supposed to be a fatal shot - one which he justified to himself was done out of mercy. It had been sheer luck that she had not gone insane already after being exposed to the many rounds of MK-Ultra, and figured that it was only a matter of time before that would come to fruition.

No doubt she will be livid upon seeing his face again, but for the sake of the free world he was willing to take the brunt of her anger.

Adler chuckled mirthlessly to himself as the familiar smell of arabica wafted into the room. There was no longer a point in reminiscing about what could have been or the many questions he had repeatedly asked the imaginary figment of her in his head - for now he has the privilege of hearing the answers to all his unanswered questions straight from the horse's mouth.

When it was time, Adler was escorted out of the dressing room and backstage where he was made to listen to what seemed to be the announcer presenting the current tournament lineup of the day in Russian through a set of thick curtains. As soon as he heard his alias name being announced he stepped forward and into the limelight in front of the adoring crowd. Giving a half-hearted wave, Adler made his way to his designated seat, where the nameplate “L. Balashov” was placed facing the audience, along with a small table red coloured flag of the Soviet Union. In the centre of the ornate wooden table that was to serve as the mental battlefield for the next few hours lay a wooden chess set, pieces already put into place.

Another round of applause now sounded and from the opposite end of the stage came his opponent - a Miss Yelizaveta Ivlev. Dressed in a simple dark blue dress and a pair of pearl-studded earrings, Ivlev walked across the stage with a small smile, waving her hand towards the audience cheerfully. She then turned to her side with the intention of greeting her opponent when she realised who it was. Adler noted that Ivlev was careful not to let any shock show on her face and the only indicator she gave as to knowing his true identity was the small drop to her beautiful smile, perhaps in part due to the sheer number of cameras around recording both players' first encounter with each other.

Ivlev’s eyes flicked downwards to look at her opponent's name plate. “Mr Balashov. A pleasure meeting you.” She simply nodded her head, tone slightly harsher than normally how an introduction should entail. “The pleasure is all mine.” replied Adler, playing along.

Once both players took to their respective seats, Ivlev picked up the black velvet pouch that sat inconspicuously towards the right side of their shared table right next to the Fischer clock. Shaking it slightly, she allowed its contents to drop into the palm of her hand: a single coin.

“Heads or tails?”

“Heads.” Adler now watched as the rounded object flipped in midair and landed once again into the safety of her palm. “Looks like you get to pick the colour, Mr Balashov.”

Adler’s eyes now flipped back to the chessboard with disinterest. “I don’t mind keeping it the way it is now.”

“Very good.” Ivlev now turned her head and made eye contact with a member of staff, nodding her head as she did so. This prompted the staff member to walk over to their table, giving it a quick once over before walking over to a giant board - in which a replica of the current chessboard configuration has been made - and writing down the names of both players in the blackboard above.

White – L. Balashov

Black – Y. Ivlev

“Shall we begin?” Ivlev’s voice prompted Adler to once again focus on the woman currently sitting in front of him bearing a deceptively neutral look on her face. Adler did not respond, choosing to proffer out a hand to her instead which she accepted.

For a third time, a round of applause thundered around the auditorium. But Adler wasn’t paying attention to any of it, for his eyes were currently on his actual prize - the sole reason why he was here in the first place.

Truth to be told, sitting in this auditorium, Adler felt like a fish out of water - and it has been a while since he had experienced such a feeling. Though he played the game occasionally and knew the basic rules and moves, he knew that he was widely unprepared to be playing in such a professional environment. Still, he has come too far to fail now - he will achieve his objective by hook or by crook.

Despite his limited understanding of the game, Adler knew that being able to take control of the middle was vital for eventual victory - the player that controls the centre has the best vantage attack point on the rest of their opponents pieces. With this in mind, Adler’s opening move was to move his pawn to d4. Ivlev responded by moving her knight to F6. Seeing her motive, he pushed another of his pawns to c4. Where is she going with this? Seemingly unfazed, Ivlev simply moved her pawn to e6. She really is that insistent on wanting my d4 pawn huh. Adler now brought forward his knight to c3 in hopes that it would deter his opponent from their current objective but instead what it did was embolden Ivlev to bring forward her bishop to b4, effectively not only threatening his knight (and in turn the king) but also preventing Adler from taking control of the centre by moving his one of his other pawns from e2 to e4.

It took a while for Adler to realise what Ivlev had just done: the Nimzo-Indian defence. In his rush to control the centre, not only had he given away his strategy early on, but placed Ivlev in a position to not only develop her pieces earlier but also play them aggressively should she so choose, possibly gaining potential control over the centre as the game progresses on.

“Interesting that you didn’t open using the queen’s gambit.” Ivlev suddenly remarked, possibly in response to Adler’s surprise. “You are a habitual gambler, no? And very apt at giving away your pawns when needed. Frankly I’m quite surprised to see you here. I thought you were all brawn and no brains, just like the CIA lapdog you once formerly were.” Ivlev’s voice could only be fittingly described as a sheet of ice - calm on the surface, but arguably emotionally tumultuous underneath.

“Formerly?” Adler raised an eyebrow as he moved another one of his pawns to a3. As Ivlev focused on her next move Adler waved his hand up in the air, making a motion with his hand for a cigarette. “What makes you say that?”

“I might be physically out of the field, but it doesn’t mean I am out of the loop information wise.” Ivlev now tutted as she moved her bishop to take his pawn. “Also, you are not as subtle as you think you are.”

Their conversation came to a temporary halt with the arrival of said item - a cigar surprisingly - balancing precariously along its edges of an unused ashtray. “You mind?” asked Adler rhetorically as he placed the item between his lips, flicking the cap of the provided zippo open. Ivlev simply snorted back in amusement, shaking her head. Taking a much needed drag of nicotine, he now moved his own pawn to take Ivlev’s bishop. “It seems that word travels fast. Either that or you have been keeping tabs on me….Bell.” Adler saw the woman’s composure break slightly at the mention of that name, her body physically tensing up.

“Don’t test your luck here, Russell Adler. We are being live streamed for the whole of the Soviet Union to see; I could unmask your identity right here and you will be arrested by the KGB within a few minutes.” Sensing the man’s scepticism, Bell elaborated. “The USSR has changed over these past 10 years - especially since our little stunt in the Lubyanka Building. Now with some of the Eastern Bloc Republics expressing disillusionment, the Motherland is ramping up efforts to keep the collectivist culture and ideology alive.”

Adler hummed in acquiescence. “So why didn’t you do that from the very beginning?” he now asked, to which Bell elected not to respond.

The game dragged on for longer than expected. The silence in the room changed from being comforting to suffocating, save the occasional cough from a spectator and the constant ticking of the Fischer clock near his right elbow. From the corner of his eye Adler watched some of the moderators and judges fidget in their seats as did some members of the audience, who by his standards were doing rather well in keeping their impatience at bay given the games seemingly lack of progress.

Though not one to always practise what he preached, Adler could appreciate the art of patience - many years of being in intelligence taught him the value of it. Besides, it was good to exercise that brain of his once in a while - even if admittedly he would have preferred being out in the field shooting at something or someone instead.

“Why did you shoot me at Solovetsky, Adler?” Bell asked abruptly, eyes never leaving the board or the pieces before them. Ah, the inevitable question that needs to be answered. Adler opened his mouth to respond, but realised that the words he had rehearsed in his head were now stuck at the back of his throat. Did he actually want to tell her the truth? Was there even a point in lying at this stage regarding all that happened 10 years ago? “And please don’t lie, that would be extremely low of you to do so. The least you owe me is the truth in that regard.”

“I don’t owe you jack shit, Bell. I did what I had to do for my country.”

“The country that now turned its back on you when you were clearly framed?”

“So you believe that I’m innocent.” Adler saw an opportunity to deflect and gladly took it. Bell simply laughed in response. “Russell Adler, willing traitor of the CIA in exchange for blood money? Not your style, and certainly not your modus operandi.” Bell moved another of her pieces and like clockwork pressed down the button on her side, folding her hands on the table before her afterwards. “Humour me, Adler. You clearly want something from me - that’s why you are here playing a chess game for the past 3 hours, no?”

Adler took a puff of what was now his 5th cigar, tapping it at its end as more black flakes dropped into the ever growing pile of grey in the middle of the ashtray before setting it down in favour of moving his piece. “It was supposed to be a mercy kill.” There, this was as close to the truth as he could master. When one lies on a regular basis as part of the job requirement, suddenly telling the truth becomes a tall order indeed.

“Who did you take me for, A chained up dog? One you can just simply get rid of as soon as the work gets done? Even the process of euthanasia has rules and guidelines and doing that with your reasoning fails the eligibility criteria!” Bell took a deep breath in, before her calm mask of composure returned once more. “Give me one good reason why I should work with you now after what you have done.”

“I don’t have to. Clearly your handlers see a mutually beneficial outcome by us working together: if not you would not be up here with me right now.” Adler smirked. “Your handlers are the two men seated at your 4 o'clock, are they not? I’m frankly surprised Perseus took you back after all the shit that went down, how we thwarted their plans and all.”

“I’m frankly quite surprised too. And grateful.” Adler could hear from her voice that the sentiments were genuine. “Враг моего врага - мой друг”.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Their previous campaign against Perseus in the 80s must have set them back quite a bit; to the point that they feel threatened by simply the presence of another prominent paramilitary group. But why Perseus and this particular group are antagonistic towards one another is something that Adler mentally stored in his head as needing to be further investigated upon.

“Now that we are on the same page, I’m going to give you a code phrase that you must keep to yourself until the time comes.” Directing his attention back from the room to the chessboard before him, Adler now raised a hand to make his move. On the opposite side of the stage from where the pair were seated one of the staff members near the giant board, upon placing down a pair of binoculars, reached for the cutout of a white bishop and moved it diagonally upwards - replacing the position of the black rook before it.

The audience visibly stirred.

“I understand.” was all Adler simply responded with ease. He could easily read between the lines, and he knew that a cornered animal is always a dangerous one - not that he was currently in the position to corner them any further anyway. The subconscious weight he had been carrying left him both physically and mentally. With his objective now fulfilled, he could finally fully focus on playing regularly just as he was sure Balashov would have if the latter were currently in his shoes.

After another tedious hour of nothing but back and forths, the match was eventually brought to a standstill and declared inconclusive by the panel of judges present. Despite the outcome of the match not being significant Adler, it was mostly out of professional pride that he refused to withdraw after getting what he needed - besides, It would have been the same thing the real Balashov would have done after all.

As soon as the panel made the results of their judgements known, the media personnel, who were no doubt restless and itching to move after the tiresome four hour long match, seemingly leapt up from their seats like people possessed and approached both players with their endless barrage of questions. This was promptly ignored by both Bell and Adler as they made their way backstage unscathed thanks to the diligence of the security personnel present.

“Stay here.” Adler broke the silence between them as he led Bell into his dressing room, closing the door behind him and he swept the room for cameras. Once he determined that they were not being watched, he opened his bag and from it revealed a nondescript looking file which he passed to Bell promptly. “Everything you and your handlers need to know about the organisation I am tracking is here. I’m presuming your handlers would know more about them though than I, given Perseus’s implied history with them.”

The woman opened the folder and stared at the papers inside unimpressed. “There’s nothing much to go on.”

“I know. They are very good at infiltration; I believe they have multiple moles in the CIA. Elusive fuckers, they have already dug their claws in deep which is how they were able to produce fake irrefutable evidence of my so-called betrayal. Mason and Hudson are dead because of them.”

Bell’s face fell slightly. She wasn’t Hudson’s biggest fan, but she and Mason did share an amicable relationship. The latter was someone she actually enjoyed having conversations with, so it was sad to know of his fate. “Mason has a son right? What’s going to happen to him?”

Adler looked up at Bell grimly. “I don’t know. I can only hope he will be well cared for by the state, or whoever Mason had placed as the next of kin.” The duo continued to look at each other, either side seemingly hesitant for the conversation to continue or their time together to end for that manner. Perhaps they knew that they eventually needed to discuss what happened at Solovetsky and both sides are reluctant to bring that up; or maybe because this is the first time they have seen each other face to face in five years, and the feeling of seeing someone who had attempted to brainwash you (Bell) or was a ghost from your past (Adler) standing in the same room as you in the flesh was simply…overwhelming.

Luckily for Adler, the awkward silence was eventually broken when Bell’s phone rang. Adler watched as the woman removed a flip phone from her pocket and answered it with much haste - a call from her handlers, no doubt.

“ I’m currently in contact with him, he’s passed me a file with the information we need. Are you sure - yes, Comrade, at once.” Bell placed the phone back into her pocket. “Change of plans. You are coming with me.” Adler raised an eyebrow in genuine surprise. “What do your handlers want with me?”

Bell shrugged. “I will go get my purse from my dressing room; they said to meet us outside in five.” And with those words, Adler watched the once timid and non-verbal woman now exited the dressing room with her head held high. Feeling the man’s gaze on her, Bell turned around abruptly once more with a gaze which sent an involuntary shiver down the older man's spine.

“C’mon Adler, don’t dawdle. After all, we've got a job to do.”

#ao3 fanfic #call of duty #call of duty black ops 6 #russell adler #call of duty fanfic #bell call of duty #No spoilers in this one I promise #💉: we've got a job to do #Spotify #spoiler free #russell adler x bell #cod black ops cold war

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dumbtruk · 1 month ago

Text

The Crimson Veil

The heat of the summer had been oppressive, relentless. Your family estate, nestled deep in the forests outside Mondstadt, felt more like a gilded cage than a home, despite its grand stone halls and sweeping gardens. You had spent most of your days languishing in the shade of the great oak trees, seeking respite from the heavy air that clung to you like a second skin. The boredom of isolation was wearing on you, but your father insisted it was for your safety. Strange happenings had been reported in nearby villages—disappearances, whispers of something unnatural prowling the night. He would leave for long stretches, journeying to Mondstadt for business, leaving you in the care of the house staff.

And then, she came.

It was during one of your father’s longer absences, a warm evening bathed in the amber glow of the setting sun. You were in the garden when the commotion at the front gates broke the tranquility. A carriage, drawn by horses as black as midnight, had appeared out of nowhere, thundering down the dirt path leading to the estate. The servants were quick to gather at the entrance, murmuring nervously as the door of the carriage swung open.

You watched from a distance, your curiosity piqued.

A figure emerged—tall, graceful, and draped in a flowing crimson cloak. Her presence was commanding, even from afar. The hood of her cloak shielded her face from view, but the way she moved was almost hypnotic, as though every step she took was a deliberate act of seduction.

The woman paused at the entrance, her head turning ever so slightly in your direction. Even though you couldn’t see her eyes, you felt the weight of her gaze, and a chill ran down your spine despite the warm summer air. You were frozen in place, unable to look away.

The housekeeper hurried forward, her voice trembling as she addressed the mysterious guest. “M-madam, may we help you?”

The woman’s voice was like velvet, smooth and rich, yet carrying an undercurrent of something dangerous. “I apologize for the intrusion. My carriage met with misfortune on the road, and I seek shelter for the night.”

Your father had always been generous, especially to those of noble blood, and the stranger’s attire suggested she was no common traveler. The housekeeper hesitated only a moment before nodding, gesturing for her to enter. The woman swept past her with a fluid grace, her cloak billowing behind her like a pool of blood spreading across the stone floor.

From that moment, the house was changed.

Her name was La Signora.

She revealed little of herself, offering only vague details about her background. She was a widow, she said, and had been traveling through the region on matters of personal business. Her voice was always low, measured, but it seemed to carry with it an air of authority that demanded attention. The servants were quick to obey her, drawn to her every word, though they rarely spoke in her presence.

But it was you who became the focus of her attentions.

The first time you truly spoke with her, she found you in the garden once more, reclining beneath the shade of the oak trees. She approached without a sound, her footsteps as light as a whisper on the breeze.

“I see the sun has no power over you,” she remarked, her voice almost teasing. You looked up, startled, but as soon as you met her eyes, you felt a strange sense of calm wash over you.

Her eyes—they were the color of molten amber, glowing faintly in the dim light. Her face was striking, impossibly beautiful, yet there was something unnerving about it, something inhuman. Her skin was pale, like porcelain, and her lips were painted a deep, blood-red.

“You must be our guest,” you managed, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to stay composed. “La Signora, is it?”

She smiled, and the sight of it sent a shiver through you. “Indeed. And you must be the lady of the house in your father’s absence. How fortunate for me to find such enchanting company.”

Her words were flattering, but there was an edge to them, a weight that made your heart beat faster. You had never felt anything like it—a mixture of fear and fascination, as though you were both repelled and irresistibly drawn to her at the same time.

“I’ve heard you’ve been unwell,” she continued, her gaze sweeping over you like a caress. “These warm summers can be so draining, can they not?”

You nodded, unsure of how to respond. In truth, you had felt more fatigued than usual, a strange lethargy that had settled over you ever since her arrival. But as you sat there, beneath her gaze, you found it difficult to think of anything but her.

For the rest of the evening, La Signora remained at your side, her conversation light but somehow captivating. She spoke of distant lands and forgotten places, of beauty and tragedy intertwined. She told you stories that made the hairs on your neck stand on end, though you could not say why.

And when she finally took her leave, you found yourself longing for her return, despite the growing sense of unease gnawing at the edges of your mind.

As the days passed, your relationship with La Signora deepened in ways you could not explain. She was always near, her presence a constant, magnetic force. She began visiting you in your room late at night, when the rest of the household had long since gone to bed. The first time she appeared, it was like a dream.

You had been lying in bed, half-asleep, when you heard the faint creak of your door opening. You sat up, your heart racing, but there she stood, framed in the doorway, her cloak draped loosely around her shoulders. The candlelight flickered in her eyes, casting strange shadows across her face.

“Do not be alarmed,” she whispered, her voice soft as silk. “I thought you might enjoy some company.”

You should have been frightened, should have called for the servants. But instead, you nodded, your pulse quickening with anticipation rather than fear.

La Signora approached your bedside, moving with that same eerie grace. She sat beside you, her eyes never leaving yours. Her fingers brushed against your skin—cold, so cold—and yet you did not pull away. You felt yourself sinking into her presence, as though she were drawing you into a trance.

“I can see the fatigue in your eyes,” she murmured, her fingers trailing lightly across your wrist. “You’ve been suffering, haven’t you?”

You nodded weakly, though you were no longer sure if it was the heat or her that had been draining you. Every moment in her presence left you feeling both exhilarated and exhausted, as though she were consuming something vital from you.

She leaned closer, her breath cool against your skin. “I can help you, if you’ll let me. You have but to say the word, and I will ease your suffering.”

You should have refused, should have resisted. But her voice was like a lullaby, soothing, persuasive. Before you knew it, you had whispered, “Yes.”

Her lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. “Good.”

Without another word, La Signora leaned in, her face inches from yours. For a brief, dizzying moment, you thought she might kiss you, but instead, she pressed her lips to the curve of your neck. The sensation sent a shock through your body, a strange mixture of pleasure and pain as her fangs pierced your skin.

You gasped, your hands gripping the sheets as the world seemed to spin around you. Your vision blurred, but all you could feel was her—her cold touch, her breath, the strange pull of her fangs as she drank from you.

It was over in a matter of seconds, but it left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. La Signora pulled away, her eyes half-lidded with satisfaction. She licked her lips, the faintest trace of blood staining them.

“You are mine now,” she whispered, her voice a soft, dangerous purr. “Do not forget that.”

You lay there, trembling, unable to speak as she rose from your bed and disappeared into the shadows.

From that night onward, La Signora’s hold on you tightened. You grew weaker by the day, your skin paling, your body frail. But every night, she returned, her presence both a curse and a balm to your growing despair. You could not escape her, and deep down, you weren’t sure you wanted to.

The villagers whispered of a sickness that had begun to spread, of young women falling ill, drained of life. But you knew the truth. It was her—La Signora. She was the cause of it all, and you were her willing victim.

Your father returned one evening, his face lined with worry as he looked upon you. He demanded to know what had happened, but you could not tell him. You could only lie there, weak and helpless, knowing that La Signora’s hold on you had grown too strong to break.

That night, she came to you again, but this time, her smile was different—sharper, crueler.

“It’s almost time,” she whispered, her voice a cold breeze against your fevered skin. “Soon, you will be mine completely, and we will be together forever.”

You wanted to resist, to fight against the dark fate she had woven for you. But as she leaned in, her lips brushing against your neck once more, you knew there was no escape.

You had been drawn into her web of darkness, and there was no going back.

#la signora #la signora x reader #genshin signora #signora x reader #genshin x reader #gi #genshin #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin harbingers #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact fatui #carmilla #rosalyne

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smolcinnamonchipmunk · 11 months ago

Text

Witness Protection

(I’m sorry for not posting anything actually in a while. Headspace has not been very good. So, forgive me for being self-indulgent and traumatizing another self-insert.)

Count: 3544

TW/CW: Brief graphic depiction of a murder, blood, panic attack, fear of dying/death, unintentional fearplay, aaaaand soft, safe M/nb G/t vore

I loved nighttime.

Aside from being time from work for most people, it was a time for people to relax inside and unwind before bed, even on the weekends when more people would stay up.

But, for me, it was a chance to go outside without worrying about other people for the most part. Sure, sometimes there were some joggers that ran the same paths I did, but it was blissfully quiet after midnight. Especially on an average work night like tonight where almost everyone was asleep. No cars, no barking or bustling, just... calm. A nice night to listen to some music from my earbuds and stretch my legs from being cooped up in my apartment.

The only thing I didn't like was the chill that permeated the night air, making me shudder a bit and internally grumble in my sweater and oversized flannel jacket. Some people would suggest gloves, I hated the feeling. I much preferred beanies like the red one I wore for the night. It kept my head warm and also made it so that I didn't have to do anything to my easily unkempt, fluffy hair.

I exhaled through my nose and blinked a bit when my breath fogged in front of my face, blinding me for a second as the cloud clung to my glasses. Rolling my eyes and murmuring "Of course." under my breath, I stopped and pulled them off of my face to clear them.

When I placed my glasses back on my face, I thought I saw something in the reflection of the glass. I looked up curiously and saw nothing around me save for fallen leaves coasting on the breeze.

Wondering if it was a stray cat or raccoon, I carefully walked towards the direction I thought the reflection would have come from. An alleyway that would be a perfect hiding spot for any stray animals. I thought idly that if it was a cat, maybe I could coax it back home for a bath.

Stepping up to the entrance of the alleyway, I strained to see in the darkness.

There was a shifting shape about the height of a dog, but... weird. If I had to try and equate the shape in the darkness, I would have had to guess that it was a dog trying to get into a trash bag? Maybe? I'd never exactly seen anything like it, so it was difficult for me to wrap my head around.

A bit curious and worried, I let out a concerned exhale and kept from vocalizing to avoid scaring off the dog, pulling out my phone. Opening my phone, I turned on the flashlight as something raised in the dark.

I froze.

The weirdly jerky and hunched shape wasn't a dog attempting to dig into a discarded trash bag. It was someone struggling to keep a bound woman beneath them subdued.

A woman whose face was streaked with wet mascara from tears, mouth gagged by a bandana or rag, shirt and leggings dirty with some holes presumably from struggling while her hands and ankles were tied. Who's green eyes flickered briefly towards me as the flashlight clicked on, giving me the horrible sight of the light leaving her eyes as a knife plunged into her throat in a crimson splatter that misted her and the person holding the knife.

I saw steam from hot blood meeting the colder air.

The attacker, who swung down as I turned on my flashlight, quickly looked up from the still warm corpse on instinct. I saw them recoil, the hood of their jacket and a winter mask that covered the lower half of their face preventing me from getting a good look at them. I don’t even think I would have remembered their features anyways, everything feeling like it was blurring as they lifted a hand to try and block my phone light.

The brief seconds of blindness was probably the only thing that saved my life.

My legs moved quicker than my mind, sprinting away from the scene as quick as I could, not daring to look back to see if or when the attacker would choose to give chase. My numb fingers fumbled with my phone, struggling to dial the police as my panicked breathing threatened to make me faint. Too numb and shaky, my fingers couldn’t keep a firm grip on it and I yelped as my phone slipped from my grasp.

I briefly skidded to a halt for the barest of moments with the intent to try and pick it up before quickly deciding it wasn’t worth my life, continuing my mad sprint down the sidewalk. My music jittered and glitched as the source of the musical connection grew further away, quickly cutting out entirely to leave me with the sound of blood rushing in my ears, my panting, and my muffled footsteps.

Heart pounding almost painfully in my chest, my vision tunnel-visioned only on trying to run to the safety of my apartment or something, not seeing the hand that jutted out of the alley I was about to run past until I practically slammed into it.

I hadn't heard any footsteps because of my earbuds.

I was pulled into the darkness with terrifying ease, too quick to even let out a scream before my mouth was covered by a hand and an arm wrapped around my torso, lifting me enough that my feet left the ground. My legs kicked uselessly as I struggled to somehow pry my captor off of me, near-hyperventilating with the horrible knowledge that they were far larger and stronger than I was.

This is it. I'm about to die because I decided to leave the house once in a blue moon.

My eyes stung from the cold and the slight sheen of tears as they watered a bit, a cold pit forming in my stomach as I expected to be pinned and stabbed like the woman earlier. Any second, the thought of pain and dying would come to fruition.

But, instead, I was clutched to my captors chest while I squirmed to get away with little to no reaction. There wasn't even an indication that they felt anything. I could feel their breathing against my back, unsure if the sound of a racing heart was just from me or if they were silently freaking out about me seeing them kill someone.

I thought that, perhaps, they were waiting for me to exhaust myself in my panic. But, I realized there was the sound of muffled running footsteps outside the alleyway beneath the blood rushing in my ears. A figure ran past, a mental latency telling me that they had a spattering of coloring on their clothes that looked suspiciously like blood and the glint of what may have been a knife.

If that was the killer… who the fuck was holding onto me?

As the confused and still panicked thought crossed my mind I felt my captor let out a relieved sigh against my back, able to see the heated steam from them scatter above me. My body instinctively stiffened, at the sight and sound of their sigh, letting out a muffled yelp as my captor turned almost dizzyingly quick.

I found myself with my feet back on the ground, but I was trapped against the alley wall by my captor before I could fully process the movement. Back against the wall, one arm blocked off escape towards the alley entrance while the other hand remained against my mouth to keep me quiet. They were… definitely a lot bigger than me, at least six feet tall with a far more muscular build than my own. Their details were difficult to make out in the darkness of the alley but I saw that he was dark-skinned with his hair cut short, dark green eyes glinting in the dim light from the street.

“You alright?” a gruff, masculine voice spoke up. It was a whisper, but it still made me jump, feeling far too loud in the almost silent night even with my earbuds still in. When I didn’t immediately nod or shake my head he sighed and shifted the arm blocking me in, reaching towards me.

“Mmmphf!” I let out a muffled exclamation and flinched away, quickly grabbing his wrist with both of my hands. I was entirely certain that I couldn’t stop him from anything but he stilled his hand anyway.

“I’m not trying to hurt ya, I’m trying to make sure you’re NOT hurt, kid,” the guy huffed, a second or two passing before he added, “Look. I’m going to remove my hand to ask you some questions. You’re not going to scream or anything when I take my hand off, right?”

I wasn’t even sure I would be able to scream if I wanted to, my throat feeling too tight and breathing feeling laborious. Staring at the mostly obscured face of the man, I reluctantly nodded after a few seconds. Another second and he nodded back.

“Alright. Are you hurt?” he asked, glancing down at my body for a second, squinting to try and see if I was injured.

“I-I.. No, no, I-I’m fine,” I forced out, barely able to manage a response as my voice tried to stick in my throat. Still, I couldn’t help but give myself a light pat down, absentmindedly plucking my silent earbuds out of my ears. I could hear the light whistle of a breeze through the alleyway, something about being able to hear better both making me feel relief and a new spike of anxiety to add to my current state. I couldn’t help the wary suspicion as I asked, “Who… Who are you?”

It felt oddly timed that someone else would be out and about in the same area while also somehow getting me out of danger just in time. I especially couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing in an alley, of all fucking places. The other person was certainly a murderer, yes, but that didn’t mean that this man wasn’t also dangerous.

In the harsh contrast of darkness and light from the street I saw the man blink a bit before sighing.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised at the question,” the man replied, “My name’s Damien. I’m a private investigator that was hired to tail a suspect in a serial murder case, to find evidence or intervene before he killed again.

“I’m judging by your behaviour that I failed in that regard,” His expression turned unreadable for a couple seconds of silence before asking his own question. “What did you see?”

For some reason, despite the question being completely understandable, it caught me off guard. I blinked at him as I struggled to move my tongue, the muscle feeling stiff.

“I-I,” my voice stuck in my throat. The scene began to replay itself nonsensically in my mind’s eye and I felt my heartrate begin to quicken, my breathing turn shallow. My choker suddenly felt too constrictive, feeling too aware of my own pulse beneath the strip of fabric and I reached up absentmindedly to touch my neck.

“Did he see you?”

Damien’s voice brought me back from my stupor, the mild change of subject surprising enough to ground me. I stared at him for a second before swallowing to try and clear my throat to answer, “I-I don’t think so… I think I blinded him with my phone flashlight, b-but I dropped it when I was trying to call the cops while running…”

“Fuck,” Damien growled under his breath, the small sound enough to make me flinch. “If he grabbed it then he might be able to get into it to find out who you are and where you live.”

“Oh.” The thought hadn’t really crossed my mind, more focused on just trying to survive than the prospect of what would happen if I managed to run away from the killer. Now that the possibility of him finding out where I live was presented I was unfortunately picturing a shadowed figure breaking into my home in the middle of the night to kill me. “... It was by Glass Tower.”

“What?” The man looked caught off guard by my statement.

“The murder,” I said numbly, gesturing to the alley entrance. “It happened by Glass Tower, I think.. In an alley. I-I thought it was a dog,.. I-I.. She…”

The almost overwhelming numb feeling of shock cracked slightly as I tried to describe what happened, my breath suddenly hitching in my throat and my eyes stinging as panicked tears began to well up. I let out a shaky breath, trying and failing to not curl in on myself, especially with an almost complete stranger,

Thankfully, Damien’s only comment about it was, “You don’t need to get into it now, kid. We can get a full testimony later.”

“… O-Okay,” I nodded, trying to calm myself down. I felt both cold and hot as my body’s anxiety and adrenaline fought with the below-freezing temperatures. A shiver ran down my spine that made my entire body shudder in its confusion.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have time to take you to a station,” he huffed slightly, looking towards the alley entrance with a contemplative expression. “I need to retrace your steps and find the crime scene before the killer has a chance to come back and clean up. But, I need to get you out of the way and safe first.. And, you’re not gonna like it.”

“H-Huh?” I blinked a bit at his odd wording, staring in confusion as he shifted to reach into the inside of his jacket. My eyes widened as he pulled out a syringe that glinted in the light from the street, quickly moving to dart off to the side as my fear of needles kicked in, still very high-strung and in survival mode.

“Woah, hey!” The man whisper-yelled in surprise, moving just as quickly.

“L-Let me g-mmph!” I found myself strong armed back against the alley wall with his palm covering my mouth to muffle my cries once more, heart racing as I was pinned with terrifying ease. There was a sharp pain in my neck and the feeling of something unfamiliar being injected. Shivering at the cold feeling, I quickly shied away once he unpinned me from the wall, reaching up to press my hand against whatever puncture wound was there and exclaiming, “What did you just do to me?!”

“Woah, easy, kid, easy,” Damien pocketed the syringe quickly and held up his hands in an effort to placate me. “Just calm down. What I gave you is going to make it easier to protect you and keep you safe.”

“Safe from what?! Ps-Psychopaths with syringes?” I asked, feeling like a cornered animal. I could try to run further into the alley but he was so close that he could probably just stop me and-. “Ouuugh, f-fuck.”

A sudden overwhelming wave of dizziness and nausea overtook me and I stumbled, planting my forearm against the brick alley wall to keep from crumpling to the ground and squeezing my eyes shut against it. I tried to shake off the feeling, hissing when I felt a hand touch my shoulder. At least, I think it was a hand, it encompassed my entire upper arm.

And then, suddenly, I found my entire world shifting dramatically.

I let out a panicked scream as my feet were swept out from beneath me, falling to the side onto what felt like a weirdly firm and warm mattress. I felt my glasses fall off my face and opened my eyes as I tried to push myself up from my prone position, picking my glasses up off the ground. The ground that looked oddly colored and textured as I put them back on, almost reminiscent of skin…

“There we go.”

My eyes widened and I froze at hearing Damien’s voice directly behind me, but far louder and it sounded a bit deeper. I felt a brief breeze from behind my back and yelped when everything moved again, realizing that I was being lifted up into the air as I was pressed into the surface beneath me by the force. When I stopped being raised into the air, I spent a few seconds trying to handle the vertigo that came from being lifted so suddenly, vision blurring slightly in my confused panic at whatever was happening.

I pushed myself back into a sitting position, holding a hand to my head to try and dissipate the dizziness before turning to look behind me. And freezing at seeing dark green eyes larger than my head staring at me.

“What the FUCK?!” I cried out, immediately flipping onto my back and trying to back away. Something blocked me and a glance behind me caused me to pale at realizing that I was in Damien’s palms, his fingers curling up to form a blockade behind me so I couldn’t back up any further.

“I know this is unorthodox, but it’s time to put you away safely,” the man said, giving me a slightly apologetic look. “Sorry, kid.”

“H-Huh, what do you mean ‘sorry’, wh-what do you mean by putting me aw-AY?!” I jolted and pressed as far back against his fingers as I could when he began to open his mouth in front of me. The hands beneath me shifted and tilted, finding myself pitched forward into his open jaws. By the time I registered that I had been shoved onto his tongue, his teeth were already closed behind me.

Stuck in shock, I was frozen, feeling the heat and humidity, the way that saliva clung to my clothes and skin, how the tongue beneath me twitched and how I could sense the roof of his mouth just above me in my prone position.

Damien decided that he wasn’t wasting anytime, finding myself jolted out of my shock by the tongue beneath me shifting.

“W-Wait,” I shouted, immediately squirming in protest. My voice stuttered when the tongue ran across my face as I was pressed into the roof of his mouth, feeling the bridge of my glasses against my nose. If I wasn’t fighting for my life right now, I’d be impressed that they stayed on.

My protests and struggles went unheeded, slathered in saliva as I was lapped at and shifted around his maw for what felt like eternity but was probably only a couple seconds before I was allowed a reprieve. I panted from exertion, eyes widening as I started being nudged towards his throat, trying to plant my hands against his taste buds to avoid being swallowed headfirst. Unsuccessfully.

“N-No, stop,” I yelped, hands slipping over the precipice. All it took was one gulp and I found myself squashed and forced into his esophagus. Blood immediately started to rush to my head, the sound of my blood rushing overpowered by the swallows surrounding me and his own breathing. His powerful heartbeat joined in and I was surrounded by his bodily cacophony as I traveled further down his throat past his heart and lungs.

It wasn’t long before I slipped into a larger space, what I could only assume was his stomach as I slid to the bottom of the organ. Something nearby groaned and I felt a jolt of panic go through me.

I tried to stand up to avoid touching the stomach walls and ended up falling back over as I slipped on the constantly moving and slick lining. Struggling to try and keep my balance, I shouted up as loud as I could, “LET ME OUT!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Damien gruffly spoke up, voice trying to be softer. Whether to comfort or just protect my ears, I wasn’t sure. There was a pat against the stomach wall I leaned against that caused me to flinch away. “You’re safe, kid. I know you don’t believe me right now, but that’s the safest place for you to be right now. This guy would literally have to go through me to get to you.”

My shallow breathing and racing heartbeat certainly begged to differ against the whole being safe thing, retorting, “And how am I safe against your body?!”

“Part of the chemicals in the syringe is to make you immune to any acids inside, so you’re perfectly safe. I don’t know how long you’ll be in there while I go investigate the crime scene and get the actual cops on the case,” he replied, unbothered about my screaming or protests this entire time. “I suggest you get some rest.”

“B-Bit of a hard request,” I snapped, looking around the dark space anxiously. I found myself curling up against the furthest section that I could. To my surprise, I was shaking. I tried to calm my shaking, hugging my arms around my abdomen as I took shaky breaths. A bit of shock was setting in again and my adrenaline was fading. Eaten by a PI wasn’t exactly how I expected the night to go, feeling incredibly surreal. Frowning at nothing, I murmured to myself, “M-Maybe this is a dream….”

A really weird and vivid dream, but a dream would be far better than reality. I suppose I’d just have to wait and see.

#cinnwrites #safe vore #soft vore #g/t #g/t vore

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five-rivers · 1 year ago

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Doorways Chapter 9

Written for Ectoberhaunt 2023's isekai weekend!

Part of this series.

“Sometimes,” said the woman-who-was-a-woman-but-also-something-more. She turned her head to look down at Danny, and the mirror behind her reflected a small amount of the glory that her body naturally hid.

Danny shivered sideways at her regard, sidestepping mirrors that had always and had never been there. If the other doors could be called demons, then this one could be called angelic. That didn’t mean they’d be friendly to Danny or his family.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Danny,” he said, unpleasantly reminded of Gula’s attempt to eat him, to draw him out through his name. It wasn’t the same, and yet…

“Not that,” said Industria. Lights shone in her eyes. Her reflections turned to examine Danny directly, looking out through the glass. Danny’s reflections seemed to fade, becoming less real. “Who are you?”

“I go by Phantom, too,” said Danny.

She shook her head. “You’re a doorway, but you don’t go to the same place I do.”

“No,” said Danny. “I go to the Ghost Zone. You go… elsewhere.”

“The Green Country, not the Red. Infinite Realms, not the Unmade World. I know. You carry the traces of Dreams.”

“Nocturne,” said Danny. “His name is Nocturne.”

“That was never his true name. Just as yours was never Danny, never Phantom.”

“Just like yours isn’t really Industria,” said Danny, peeved. “It isn’t as if we have anything written on our lintels.”

“Don’t we?”

“Maybe you do. I don’t.”

She stepped sideways and was replaced by her reflection. “I’ve done my research. I always do my research. The Door of Dreams is not the only one that leads to the World Imagined. Time. Storms. Growth. These have names. You have arrived on my threshold, from which I hold back Acedia. You come bearing the echoes of Gula, of Superbia. I ask again, who are you?”

Three times, and Danny didn’t have the benefit of being at home, on his own threshold. He also, thankfully, wasn’t trapped in a circle of blood blossoms. Not that it would have mattered if he was. The entity in front of him operated on a different set of rules than the thing that had worn Serena Goodritch and eaten Vlad. The mirrors were enough for her purposes.

What was ripped from his mouth, his core, wasn’t human. He couldn’t even begin to guess at a way to translate it into something human. It was the purest, most direct, most complete description of what he had, obliquely, termed his Obsession when negotiating with Nocturne.

“Oh,” said Industria.

A hand entered Danny’s field of view. He had, at some point, fallen to his knees. He took the hand, and Industria pulled him up. Some of the mirrors had gone back to normal reflections. Others had faded further. A few seemed too real, too deep. One reflected not the hall of mirrors, but the Fentonworks’ lab.

“Sorry,” she said. “I had to know.”

“No,” said Danny, hoarsely. The human throat wasn’t designed for that kind of utterance. “I understand. Well. I mean. I understand why you did it. Not, ah.” He gestured at his mouth.

“You didn’t understand what you said?” she asked.

Danny didn’t really know how to explain it, but one of his reflections spoke for him, the words transmitted through the glass. “Not… Not really. It’s like when you’re standing in front of yourself. You can think of different things, then.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But you really need to figure that out, and sooner rather than later. Before someone takes advantage. My name is Millie.”

“Like your name tag?”

“Yeah. That is what a name tag is for.” She sighed. “Why are you here?”

“After Gula showed up on my doorstep and tried to eat me, me and my parents thought it’d be good to check in on everyone who used to be part of their club. Your dad’s George Amal?”

"Also," chimed in a reflection, "we ran into some 'Acolytes of Acedia' the other day. Know anything about that?"

"Crap, I thought I'd fixed that." Millie looked him over. “Your last name is Fenton?”

“Yeah.”

“I heard about you on the news. There’s a lot of speculation that your family killed Vlad Masters.”

“We didn’t,” said Danny. He was echoed by his reflections.

(He didn’t like that. It felt like pieces of himself were being pinched and siphoned away.)

“That’s what people are saying,” said Millie. She shook her head. “You shouldn’t have to worry about Acedia leaking past me again. I work hard. I’ll have to make some adjustments, but this park will contain it.”

“Why?”

“Parks like this look like they’re just here for people to relax, but they take a lot of work, and people here are doing things, not just sitting around lazily. It’s an interface Acedia tries to latch onto, but can’t. Not easily. And what it does do, I can counter and disperse. It makes reality a little weird, but it’s better than the alternative.”

“Why haven’t you closed it?” clarified Danny.

“Sealed it?” asked a reflection.

“Destroyed it?” asked another.

“Because I cant,” said Millie. “I’m sure you’ve realized it isn’t that easy to get rid of these things. I’d love to know what you did to banish Gula and how you got away from Superbia."

“I… didn’t.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t? You’re here, and there’s nothing inside Serena Goodritch’s body anymore. You must have. No doubt you’ll have to find a way to bind Gula, soon enough. No manifestation of that thing lets a meal escape easily.”

“No,” said Danny. “The - Gula, wasn’t stable, and it was in my home. What it tried to do to me, I turned back on it. Gula, that version of Gula, is gone.”

“And Superbia? You carry its…” Millie-Industria waved her hand, as if to indicate Danny’s whole body. “I can sense it on you. Its traces. Its taint. It’s like a smell, almost.”

“Gone. It wasn’t fully open to begin with, but it was drawing against death, and it was death that…” He trailed off.

“Death opened me,” said a reflection, quietly.

Millie hissed through her teeth. “The pride that challenges death. Where was it?”

“Golding City. The university.”

“Of course it was the university,” said Millie. She glared at the ground for a minute, then shook her head. “No, those things won’t work here. The circumstances are too different.”

“Isn’t this your home?” asked Danny.

A reflection shifted. “Where you were made?”

“Yes,” said Millie, “but Acedia is anchored here as well. And I’ve never heard of doors to that other place being closed like that before, to begin with. Are you sure they were closed? Destroyed?”

“Positive,” said Danny and all his reflections.

“Maybe it’s because he’s a door to the infinite, rather than the supernal,” said one of Millie’s reflections.

“Maybe,” agreed Millie. She looked up, back at Danny. “You… Aren’t exactly diligent or industrious but you do work hard.”

“Uh, thanks?”

She seemed to decide something, then. The mirrors shifted, and the reflection behind her stepped aside.

“Follow me,” she said. She turned, and walked through the mirror. Danny hesitated. But he didn’t really have a choice. “What were these acolytes you encountered like?”

“They were enslaving ghosts,” said Danny. “To do stupid things. Do their chores. Run their business. You know, so they didn’t have to. They ran a bed and breakfast. Sort of. I think it was mostly the ghosts, now.”

“Typical,” said Millie, sourly. “Somehow, with these things, the worst of it comes to slavery, always.”

“Have you run into a lot of doors?” asked Danny.

“Not ones going that way,” said Millie. “But I’ve met Dream, and I’ve met a few like me. I think Caritas would like you.”

“There are others?” asked Danny, his heart aching with thought of more like him, others that could understand, even if they weren’t quite the same.

“Mhm,” said Millie. “Not that I can tell you where. We have an agreement. Privacy, you know.”

“Oh. Of course.”

Walking through a mirror was already several steps off of normal reality, but the deeper they went, the more things shifted. That tension that he could sense even walking on the surface, on the skin of what he now sensed to be a huge, many-layered mechanism, an almost-living thing of mirrors and difficulties. Something not easily bypassed by something that existed in inaction. It was difficult to move. It was difficult to breathe. It was difficult to think.

Danny knew that if he did not do those things, he would be trapped here.

“How long?”

“What?”

“How long have you been a door?” asked Danny. “I mean– How long has it been since you were first opened?”

“It was after Dad was in that accident. I went looking for something, anything that could help. I found Acedia. And rejected it. Acedia doesn’t have a host. Too much work, I suppose, except when someone walks right into it. That was… Industria, then… My door… I rejected Acedia. It… overlapped,” she said, struggling to put what it was like to become into words, as Danny often did. Even things like ‘opening’ and ‘closing’ and all these analogies weren’t good enough. “It was a confirmation. You?”

“I was trying to fix something,” said Danny, shrugging. “That something wound up being me. Only I wasn’t broken.”

Millie stopped. Industria stopped. “This is as far as you should go, I think. Do you feel it?”

Yes, Danny could feel it. That lazy, too-hot summer afternoon. Night, so late, too tired to get up to go to bed. Dishes in the sink, piling up. Remote control just a little further. Homework left unfinished. The itching under the skin to do something, but nothing being done. The consumption of hours. Their waste. Their despair.

“Do you understand why it’s different? Whatever you faced before, it’s different.”

“It isn’t that different,” said Danny, thinking of Superbia, and the false confidence that swirled under his skin, daring him to try, telling him he could win by his strength and cleverness alone. But this… He didn’t know if this wasn’t a good fit for him, or if it was Acedia, whispering in his ear, turning him away from something he could and should do.

“You’ve defeated two holes in reality,” said Indistria, leaning down so she could speak directly into Danny’s ear. “By many measures, what you are is what you can do. Can what you did be repeated?” Her eyes gleamed from a dozen reflective surfaces.

He could not forget. Industria, too, was a doorway, a hole in reality. One that had more in common with Danny than the likes of Gula, but one nonetheless.

What if he only wanted to do something because of her?

Industria sighed, her breath hot on Danny’s ear. “Can you strengthen the boundary? Can you expand the maze?”

“Ice,” said Danny, breathlessly. “You use mirrors.”

“It was what was available at the time.”

“They used mirrors, too. The acolytes.”

“Acedia could be traveling. But ice?”

“Ghost ice. Mirrors and mirror-coatings. Barriers.”

“Do it.”

Danny laid his hand flat against one of the mirror walls, and called on his ice. It crept out, over the glassy surface, then sunk deeper, the white cold mixing with the brilliant silver illumination that was Industria’s power. He poured into it. Power. Energy. Thought. Hexagonal fractals spiraled outward, creating mazes within mazes, adding to the binding that kept Acedia from leaking into the world. His reflections did the same, all through the maze, shallower and deeper, scattered everywhere, a thousand parts of him. It was difficult. It was impossible.

He saw, now, why Industria could not destroy Acedia. He saw why she had only brought him partway. They were too different. They could not reach one another. The space between their thresholds was an infinite series of steps, and nothing could take such a journey. Forever, they could approach their borders and never find them, and Acedia… Acedia would not do that, or it would not be Acedia, and Industria could do nothing but, or she could not be Industria.

Danny was neither of those things, and his door stood on a sharper divide. Though he could not go to Acedia, and fight it in its own place of power, he could do things Industria could not.

But could he fill all this infinite space all by himself?

“You can do it,” said Millie. And with Industria’s hand on his shoulder, he could at least try.

Danny stumbled out of the house of mirrors and caught himself on a nearby piece of railing. Millie stood behind him on the steps.

“I’ll tell the others about you,” she said. “I need to get back to work. Will you be alright?”

“I’m fine,” said Danny. “I just need to– I just need to–” Rest? Catch his breath? Was that safe?

“You should be fine,” said Millie. She looked back, over her shoulder. “Plenty of people rest here. Resting isn’t the problem. The problem is not getting back up.”

The high-pitched tweedle of a phone ringtone interrupted any thoughts Danny might have had on the matter. Millie rolled her eyes and answered the phone. “Yes?” she said. She was quiet for a few minutes. “Yes, I’ll tell him. Bye.” She closed the phone. “My dad saw your parents. You’re invited to dinner.”

#danny phantom #doorways fic #ectoberhaunt23 #ectoberhaunt 2023

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scarydeadlavender · 1 year ago

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꧁༺ 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓭𝓲𝓭 𝓘 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓪𝓵? ༻꧂

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Kid is VERY rarely surprised during his heists; after all, we're talking about the famous gentleman thief!

So, imagine his surprise when he saw a woman of his age dressed entirely in white! A white dress with puffy sleeves and a square neckline, the dress reached above her knees. A delicate belt adorned with small rhinestones added a touch of light to her outfit. She wore white high heels with a small strap also made of rhinestones, encircling her ankles. But what he found most beautiful about her attire was the open back. Her hair was gathered in a bun, allowing the complex design of her back to be visible. It was an open back in the shape of a "V," with the same chain of rhinestones cascading down her back. He couldn't stop staring at her cold face, where her lips were a blood-red and she had magnificent, sparkling eyes.

He couldn't divert his gaze from her! A rather comical situation, considering that normally all eyes should be on him... . . He had to refocus on his mission! That is, stealing an incredibly valuable diamond that everyone desires, especially for the colors it reflects. But... What was the real object of the heist? Was it the diamond? Or a kiss from the mysterious girl?

He shook his head to rid himself of these intrusive thoughts. At any moment, the police could come looking for him, and he'd have to flee at all costs! So, his nimble fingers covered with a pair of white gloves delicately touched the precious stone, its reflections presenting themselves on the different facets of the diamond. He chuckled a little, examining it more closely...

The diamond was the size of his palm, and all its facets were carefully cut to make the entire piece marvelous.

Suddenly, a loud commotion made him jump! A group of police officers stood at the door, all ready to chase after him and catch him!

He chuckled, making a bow that irritated the already tense police officers.

Kid: Allow me to bid you good evening, gentlemen~

Amid grumbles from the police officers, he straightened up gracefully, confident in the turn of events. However... until he heard it. The sound of her heels clicking on the cold floor, as always, she always arrives to apprehend him. In truth, it saddens him to see that she also wants to put him in prison. So, she walked through the crowd of police officers, her gaze fixed on Kid. As for the police officers, who were surprised to see someone so confident, she stopped in front of the group of officers, her cold gaze fixed on Kid, who was smiling while applauding.

Kid: Wow, I congratulate you. You managed to find me... again. Officer 1: And that's why you're going to prison!

The mysterious girl said nothing, simply listening to the jabs that the numerous police officers directed at Kid. It was as if they were attempting to throw him off balance or channel all the anger they had towards him—maybe both.

So, Kid, who seemed bored, also stared the girl straight in the eyes, until he burst into laughter.

Kid: Listen, you're quite pleasant, but I must be on my way! See you next time!

Officer 2: KID!!

However, the famous magician didn't pay attention to the police officers ordering him to stop; instead, he threw a small ball onto the ground. Once it exploded, it filled the room with white smoke, providing Kid with the perfect opportunity to escape. It was a simple but effective trick that always worked, allowing him to flee without much trouble, as the police officers, blinded by the smoke, ended up grabbing each other, thinking they had a hold of him.

He chuckled and ran through the building until he reached the rooftop. The view was splendid—buildings shining in the night, various signs and billboards adding touches of color to the dark night. The wind rustled his white cape as he held the diamond in the air, examining it closely.

But there was nothing...

What he was looking for was still missing. He sighed just as he heard the rapid opening of a door! He turned around and smiled at the sight of the girl who had managed to find him. He applauded.

Kid: I'm impressed. You're the first to escape from the smoke cloud.

?: Don't mock me, Kid.

He casually leaned against the cold railing behind him before smiling even more.

Kid: Who said I was mocking you?

She said nothing, merely narrowing her eyes as she looked at the man in the white suit, searching for the diamond before approaching him calmly. He was taken aback by this calm and somewhat... reassuring approach?

Suddenly, her calm demeanor shifted as she tried to snatch the diamond from his hands. However, he managed to narrowly evade her attempt, letting out a surprised breath as he observed her closely, realizing that her posture now exuded determination.

He laughed heartily, adjusting his top hat and smiling.

Kid: Lady White, you always manage to impress me! But...

He bowed before ascending a bit higher on the already elevated rooftop.

Kid: I believe it's time to bid farewell~

He winked at her before starting to run, leaving the girl behind. He leaped from roof to roof, but something wasn't right. He had a feeling he was being followed, so he glanced behind him, noticing the girl in pursuit. He couldn't help but smile and chuckle, yelling back at her that she wouldn't be able to catch him!

Or so he thought. Much to his surprise, he found her on the same rooftop of a construction building. He stood upright, hands in his pockets, displaying the diamond. Meanwhile, the girl also stood tall, albeit slightly hunched over to catch her breath. She wiped a small bead of sweat from her cheek before straightening up completely, fists clenched. Her hair was now unbound, fluttering in the wind. It would be dishonest to say he didn't find her striking at that moment.

He held the diamond before his right eye, looking through it at her figure. Lost in his thoughts once again, he began to drift off...

What had she come to steal again? Oh yes, the diamond. Well, which diamond? The one he held between his fingers or the mysterious girl? He laughed at his own thoughts. She was truly affecting him.

Still entranced, he suddenly felt the girl snatch the diamond from him. It was sudden, very sudden! She had caught him off guard and seized the opportunity during his moment of reverie to take the diamond from him!

Certainly, he was surprised... very surprised, but he was also delighted to encounter such an adversary. In a way, it was like Arsène Lupin and Herlock Sholmès. With genuine curiosity, he smiled at her.

Kid: I must admit I'm quite taken aback.

He held his top hat by the brim, his eyes gleaming with a mix of genuine admiration and curiosity.

Kid: May I at least ask for your name? I'd rather not keep calling you "The Mysterious Girl."

For some reason unbeknownst to him, she seemed to ponder. It was as if revealing her name would bring about some dire consequence, making him shrug in response.

Kid: I understand if you'd rather not tell me. After all, I'm just a...

Tp: Tp.

He stopped in surprise mid-sentence. He hadn't really heard her voice much, so hearing his name from her lips was oddly pleasant...

Tp: Tp, (Your last name).

A wry smile formed on Kid's lips as he executed a bow, gracefully tipping his hat as a gesture of politeness.

Kid: Well then... Tp, delighted to make your acquaintance. I doff my hat to you.

But being called Tp didn't say much to him. She stepped back toward the edge of the building. It was becoming far too dangerous at this point. He straightened up, his expression turning serious.

Kid: You shouldn't get any closer...

Tp: Good evening... Kaito Kid.

With those words, she let herself fall backward. His heart skipped a beat in sheer surprise. He rushed to see if she was alright and if there was any chance of catching her! To his astonishment, he saw her safe and sound below, surrounded by several police officers who were jumping and cheering in joy at her recovery of the coveted Diamond. In fact, all of this was a plan, a very well-crafted one. She waited for the opportune moment, the moment when the police had set up security measures that would prevent her from dying in the fall.

He chuckled a bit, before turning on his heels, letting his cape flutter in the evening breeze. This time, he really had to leave. But one thing was certain: he hadn't managed to steal what he intended to steal...

The next day, as Kaito sat at his high school desk, because yes, he had resumed his "normal" life as a regular high school student, he was back to being Kaito Kuroba, a student with his head resting on his palm, staring at the boring green chalkboard.

That's when he saw her! Yes, the girl who had managed to steal the Diamond from him. She was standing there in front of the chalkboard, looking around the classroom, dressed in the school uniform. The teacher was introducing her to the class as the new student. Rumors had indeed circulated that a new student would be arriving at Ekoda High School in Class 2-B, but he didn't care much about it, to be honest. Many girls were imagining a handsome guy from another school or a potential new friend,

Unlike the boys who imagined a girl coming from elsewhere who might be American or from another country and very sexy, he dropped his pencil on his desk, the sound resonating slightly in the classroom. His cheeks reddened. She was still just as stunning, and everyone in the class was looking at her. Various whispers floated in the air, such as "Oh... I thought it was going to be a boy..." "She seems really kind," or even "She's pretty!!"

Then she greeted them and said, "I am Tp, Tp (last name), pleased to meet you."

Ah, yes... It was official, he had fallen in love with Tp...

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

number of words : 1833

just something quick i wrote got bad i know XD

#fanfiction #detective conan #kaito kid x reader #kaito kuruba #magic kaito #kaitou kid #kid x reader #kuruba kaito #kaito kuroba #detective conan x reader

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the-slasher-files · 1 year ago

Text

[CALL OF DUTY]

A LIFE WITH HER

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY x FEM!OC

Hello friends! It has been a while, but I'm excited to return and do more exciting things! So, this piece is an introduction to a new oc I have been working on, Simon's girl. Her name is Cholena "Raven" Belanger, name is pronounced Ko-LEE-nah. A beautiful, powerful and now civilian Metis woman. This fic is angsty comfort with hints of smut and gore... I hope you enjoy as much as I do 🔪🤍 MASTERLIST

A long sigh departed from rose tainted lips, the breath was deep and bone rattling. Almost 40 hours straight in the hospital, running around to codes of all types, tending to wounds, directing 3 teams beneath her, and doing all the paperwork as coworkers shifts changed over and over again.

"... Fuck..." Green eyes cascaded down to the blue gloves that were now drying in deep brown once bright crimson.

"Stay with me now, solider," the thumping of the helicopter blades above you drowning out your strained voice. The words were more for yourself as you held your teammates shoulder together. You could feel his heart pounded with the blood that drenched the bandages. "... Almost there"

He was fading and you didn't have enough medical supplies here, not in the air, all you could do was give directions through the radio for the medical staff on the grounds to be prepared for 3 soldiers you saved. You saved them. You hoped you did as the man's breath below you wanned. "Come on... fuck..."

Finally, the helicopter landed. It had felt like hours, painful, hopeless hours sitting in that plane, and you were left there. Slumped on your knees as the men were taken away, your men that you prayed to any god listening that they would go home to their families, but you knew that there was no god above you as the red faded to brown.

"Cholena?" There was a faint voice, "... Hey, Cholena?"

Keen emerald eyes flew upwards as the gentle hand squeezed her shoulder, flinching it off in the wake of a flashback.

It was her coworker, the one who was her equal and switching her out on the shift, took a step back with his hands face up in defence and presenting no threat. Jonathan knew of your past, obviously not understanding it completely, but there were times she spilled the truth of her PTSD.

"Sorry," He whispered, "...hey, it's ok. He lived,"

There was a held breath that she released, one she wasn't aware that was held. Relief washed over her tense frame as an innocent man riding his motorcycle home and was struck by a car could go home tonight. But, she couldn't ease the tension as that feeling of relief was quickly numbed. This woman lived through wars, saw death more than anyone in her team would ever know, and faced it multiple times herself, somehow living today. She was numbed to this. It was just another day.

"Co, please go home... get some sleep and long shower, okay?" Jonathan stared at the dried blood on the once sterile gloves, then back to her eyes. "Text me tomor—"

Interrupted by the coder on his lanyard going off, quickly giving a pat on her shoulder and running off down the white-walled hallway, "Go home! Get sleep!" He yelled back, trying to be some type of light to get her to smile... and it worked.

With a shake of her head, the smile slowly faded, peeling the nitrile gloves off and getting herself ready to go home. Home. A strange word to her as she spent the past 2 months more between the cold cement walls of the hospital than in the comfort of a home she shared, half the time alone. One more week. It repeated in her head, that British accent across the gritted phone lines.

Tense muscles guarded by heavy black tactical gear stood in front of the sink, emerald eyes, bloodshot and staring as the water washed you clean. It was too hot but you couldn't feel it. Just scrubbing over and over again the pores of your skin, rubbing them raw and steam coating your face. The water ran clear long ago, but all you could hear was the screams calling your name to help, to save them.

"Raven... Raven, shit" A voice lay unheard.

Quickly shifting around your frozen body, he turned off the tap, grasping your shoulders and turning you to look at him. Look within the deep amber masked in smeared paint. Grounding you as your hands shook desperately clawing at his vest, tears streaming heavy and collapsing within solid arms that held you up.

"I couldn't save them... I could've. I-I could've... Ghost" Your body broke against him, sobs caught into him like he could take care of it all, and he wished he could. On days like these, he wished you never thought about being in the military, you should be home, nestled in the arms of your lover and watching some dumb tv show and falling asleep in peaceful bloom.

"I know angel, I know," He clenched tightly around your frame, protecting you "One more week, just one more week"

Throwing the bloody scrubs away into the neon hazard bins, Cholena changed into some jeans and just threw on a larger, much larger hoodie that kissed halfway down her muscular thighs, the smell faded but it was still his regardless. Saying goodbye with silent waves, the exhaustion began to creep in as each step led her closer and closer out of the god-forsaken building.

Shrugging her military-issued backpack on one shoulder, she walked through the automatic sliding doors and stepped into the pitch-black night as it was softly raining. Rounding to the back of the hospital and towards the train station, beaming street lights above had her attention drawn to a black truck and a man leaning against it, cigarette in hand.

"No trains tonight, sweetheart," The familiar voice, one of comfort and home, hit her like a bullet, a gunshot clapping like thunder, it made her stop for a moment to process that he was actually here.

"Simon..."

He walked forward, tossing the cigarette to the cold, wet pavement and she walked faster, meeting him more than halfway under the warm glow of the lamp above. Reaching only a foot apart, Simon's body covered in hers in an everlasting shadow, his phantom that she welcomes whole. Sweet lotion of shea butter and coconut met fire and metal that mixed together in cascading rain making reflections at their feet.

This was something they always did when meeting again and again, no matter the territory, sand, snow, rain, concrete, rubble, blood and gore. They let their senses adapt to each other before utter absorption.

"You're home," Soldiers don't have homes, but he made one in her.

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be" Simon admitted the truth openly for her to bare and she took it all without question.

Wrapping her hands around his thick neck, green eyes meeting warm hooded amber, easily, as if she was nothing, he lifted her with strong hands supporting her thighs. As many times as he would hold her, she never failed to seem so small. At first, it was out of place when Ghost held her, like a rabbit seeking comfort within the paws of a wolf, but something in their souls fit together in a bloody puzzle and now it was home.

"God, I missed you," she exhaled all her stress as if he could ease all her pain and tucked into his neck, shuttering with exhaustion and the overwhelming feeling of having him back.

He didn't respond, and he did not need to. The rumble of a storm at sea grew within Simon's chest, and she heard it, clinging closer as if it was possible. Slowly, the scent of tantalizing pine and musk sprouted as her nose brushed under the mask. It was just the simple balaclava allowing you to see the shape of his face and the yellow that brushed through brown wartorn eyes. She never pushed for him to take it off. It was his security and his alone. When Ghost was ready to fall into the shadows, he would, always there beneath the skin, but that was when she would protect him the most.

Secure gloved hands began to wander, muscles flexing each time he could feel her shake within his hold, and Simon brought his head back, about to speak, but she beat him to it, tensing slightly, "J-just a long shift,"

Another rumble, softer this time, rolled through him, "Well, let's get you home, pigeon,"

Whenever Simon called her that, he knew it would earn a smile, perhaps a huff of sweet laughter, one that he wished he could hear forever. Everyone called her Raven. It was her call sign. Even her family used it as an honour, and no one questioned it. The onyx long hair, her feather-light touch even while stitching brutal wounds, the way she was ever graceful with sniper and was a beacon of life and death altogether. Not to count out her indigenous roots calling to her the title, a feather often within her hair on the battlefield, creative, cunning with an intuition like no one else on the team. She was a raven, glorious to him in every way, so the fact that he called her pigeon would almost be an insult.

Moving effortlessly, Simon placed her in the passenger seat of his truck, the leather slightly squeaking when Cholena took off her backpack. Eyes watching as the love of her life got into the seat beside her, a warm smile gracing her as he looked massive within the closed space.

The armoured truck was parked in the dimly lit garage of the safe house. Everyone had found a spot in the old farmhouse to settle in for the night, but you couldn't sleep, and neither could he.

"Ghost," Your moans filled the truck. Trying to stifle the noises begging you to scream, "Please. Fuc-"

"That feel good, huh?" Accent thick with pleasure as he leaned across the middle console, your head buried within the crook of Ghost's neck. His devastating hands taking what he wanted and giving what you needed. "So fucking needy for me,"

He hummed lowly, sounding more like a growl as calculated eyes watched his fingers slip in and out of your cunt, dripping on the seat and cascading along inked skin. Curling knuckle deep inside sent a shockwave through you, shaking and biting his jacket with gentle mumbles and whines. Ghost could feel you were close, fisting your soft black hair to make you pull back with a hiss.

"Look at me when you cum," He groaned feeling your walls clench tightly around strong fingers and you let go. Your teeth biting hard on your bottom lip to not make a sound, your legs shaking and dark brown eyes observing you, eating you whole as you came undone. "Such a good girl"

Ghost whispered now, the hard skull of his mask bowed against your forehead. You saw him, not the commanding force but the man beneath the bones and viscera of a legend, and he allowed it. He was safe with you between the fogging windows. It was just you and him in your world, cupping his jaw as he mirrored the actions.

"Such a beautiful girl," Simon spoke, barely above a whisper as Cholena nuzzled into his hands. Green eyes speaking to his brown in a dead language they brought back to life.

"Such a handsome man," She replied smoothly "my handsome man"

His eyes crinkled with a smile beneath the mask, placing a kiss on her forehead. Simon was still adjusting, not quite ready for his lips to feel hers, for him to feel 100% human yet. His mind was still half inside the battlefield being the embodiment of his callsign and haunting over the ones he protected with his life.

Cholena's soft fingers grazed down Simon's body, releasing her own tension and grounding him back to her at the same time. "Let's go home," She found herself whispering, eyes becoming heavy and body letting go in his presence, relaxing and easing, slumping into the seat as he gruffly nodded.

As he drove away from the city, the rain and darkening of fewer city lights lulled her into a soft sleep. Their fingers interlocked naturally together the whole drive, brown eyes floating over to watch her peaceful state reminding him that he was safe, he was home and he was hers.

Pulling into the driveway of their forested home just outside of the busy city, Simon turned off the truck and released a sigh. A shutter rolled through him this time, sharing a similar exhaustion and flood of relaxation. It was time to be a man again. Pausing for a quiet moment, his eyes closed, the freehand holding the steering wheel reached up to the soft fabric on his face and pulled the balaclava off. Strong, chiselled features made his face, scars and healed broken bones made him who he was, a man she loved wholeheartedly, but someone he strayed away from most of his life. Keen amber caught his reflection in the rear-view mirror and he stared almost as if he couldn't recognize who he was without the skull mask.

"Simon," She whispered groggily, even half asleep she could feel himself begin to crawl within his own head and her small hand flexed on his.

Cursing lowly he got out of the truck, rounded the vehicle and opened her door. Simon grabbed her bag first before he picked Cholena up bridal style trying not to shift or wake her much.

Flashes of fire, blurred black and white melted together in your vision. You could taste the copper and feel the smoke burning through you. It was hot, pure violent hellish heat consuming your soul. Were you screaming or crying as your breath felt like broken glass slicing through your ribcage? No one was listening except the reaper. It didn't matter.

It was a landmine that went off and no one could see it until bodies were broken and the building beside you had collapsed. Concrete, rebar, wood, and electrical had all come down within seconds and you were gone. The world turned and your team was gone.

Blood seeping through your gear made wide streaks in the dirt around you, barely able to lift your head, but your body tried to crawl away on pure instinct. In and out, the world faded. Tasting your life force being torn away so brutally. And you couldn't hear the voices on the radio anymore, no screams or calls for you, everyone checking on position and counting the injuries.

"SHE'S HERE"

A black shadowy figure stood before you, it was him, death coming to take you and your lids closed.

"S-stay, NO, STAY WITH ME. RAVEN... Cholena, keep those eyes open!" A barking scared tone made your eyes flutter open, only seconds at a time before falling back into darkness.

A white skull now covered in soot, bore down at your helpless frame that was clinging to life. He kept talking, orders yelled and words directed at you that were no longer understood, Ghost had never spoken this much in war but the rumble in his chest kept you sane. With every jostle of your body, you felt something horrid, it would catch on soaked clothes and send violent shocks through you. It was bone being held together by your gear. It was your spine.

"Simon..." Your voice was weak but you whispered his name, his real name over and over. He wasn't your reaper.

"Simon..." Cholena whined, nuzzling into his hoodie as she was set down on the big comfy bed, "don't go"

"I'm not going anywhere, angel... Never"

#finally done!!!!!#im so excited for this and to make this character #hope you love it!#my writing #Cholena Raven Belanger #oc #orginal character #simon ghost riley #cod #call of duty #x reader #x you #imagine #cod fandom #fanfic

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gensokyogarden · 2 months ago

Note

💢 Your Remilia is so content all the time. Let's see how angry she can get. >:D

Feel the anger

Alright, for this one, lets take a journey into Remilia's past. I'm not sure there's anything presently in Gensokyo to put her at her angriest, so we're going back before that.

Crash

Moonlight struck Remilia's face as a large chunk of the ceiling collided with the ground before her. A barrage of splinters blasted off into her Marie-Jeanne Bertin dress. Bathed in the light of the moon she could finally see it. The poor thing was ruined at this point. Thick shards of wood jutted out from every direction while blood stained her bodice.

Chateau Ecarlate had fallen. For near two centuries now Remilia's status as a distant branch of the royal family had protected her from scrutiny. There were those who spread rumors of a bloody devil who stalked the streets, some few wannabee vampire hunters, but few dared act against the nobility. This was a privilege lost in the reign of terror. The woman had looked forward to an end of aristocracy, it had gotten old, it was time for something new. The optimism she held for the future was blind to the boldness that her hunters would find in this new era.

They'd come during the day, while she'd slumbered, an entire mob of village men stirred up by a priests and supposed monster slayers. It was smart yet they remained haughty fools by choosing to strike in the evening. They feared the many guards who stood at day more than they feared Remilia. It was a mistake. Her journey from her chambers to the main hall had been a brutal one.

She stood amid her crumbling home, what blood she had boiling with rage. It was then that she smelled something. Smoke. They'd lit a fire? Where!? From the east wing. Wait but that's where ... FLANDRE! The rage that she felt just a moment before was nothing compared to the absolute fury that bloomed in her heart. A home could be replaced but family couldn't.

There was shouting across the room. Some of the home invaders were here. They'd been here for several seconds now but Remilia had been too focused on catching the scent in the air to pay them much mind. The only reason they caught her attention now is because they were between her and Flandre. They'd been shooting at her but none had struck. Not that it would matter either way.

"You meager gnats! I've been too kind to you. I was going to let you all get away. Spare the rod spoil the mongrels."

Remilia was a tall and elegantly dressed woman yet she was also a thin waif with a shrill voice. To an outsider her screams of fury towards a crowd of armed men looked ridiculous. Then she moved. By the time the men had raised their muskets she'd already closed the distance between them. She rushed for the man at the front of the crowd and went through him.

Her speed was immense and her body was durable. Humans? Not so much. The hall was flooded with the sound of screams and a sickening squelch at the moment of impact. Remilia stood before the others splattered with viscera. Several ran off screaming into the night, the bravest among the towns folk raised their weapons at the girl. She made no attempt to move. Instead Remilia raised her arm to her mouth and began greedily lapping away at the entrails that covered it, like a beggar at a feast. There was a crack as musket fired. The ball struck her straight in the chest, directly through her heart, and out the other end. She didn't flinch. Scarlet red eyes shifted onto the man who fired.

"Please sir, I'm trying to savor my meal. Don't temp me with another. I'll get fat."

She laughed at her own joke. Globs of blood flew off her face and splattered around her as she did so. There was a brief moment of calm and then Remilia moved again. She fell upon all of the others with less fanfare than the first. Nothing but a cloud of blade like claws and razorsharp fangs as she shifted from one man to another and another and another. By the end of it, the mass of gore that covered her hall couldn't even be recognized as human.

The violence of her carnage was fun but did nothing to quell her rage. No, it was only slowing her down on her way to Flandre. She approached the east hall's entrance. The door flew open as another group of invaders burst in. Seems they'd heard the screams. Doing the same thing again would be boring and only slow her down further. This seemed a good time for her fate manipulation."

"Ah yes, hello, sorry I'm in a bit of a hurry. You there!" She'd pointed towards the man at the front of the group. "You're going to destroy him now. Oh don't use that barbaric tool! Be refined! Your fists and nails are fine." The command echoed through the air. The man dropped his musket and suddenly attacked his compatriot while Remilia cackled. "Hmmm, no. Still too long. How about this! You're all to do your absolute darndest to destroy everyone else! Winner will go play with my hounds, okay?"

The sounds of brutal combat and witch like cackling echoed through the manor as Remilia finally crossed the threshold into the eastern wing and rushed for Flandre's rooms. She was in a hurry now. Those few invaders that got in her way were dispatched in an instant. There were not many, their own flames having driven them off. Now she was there. Before the door to Flandre's chamber, something that had been thankfully untouched by the inferno.

Remilia reached towards the handle. Just as she grasped the knob there was a crack as a bullet struck her. She whirled around to see a woman standing opposite of her. A silver haired nun of some sort. Remilia readied herself to move and then ... the other pulled out a cross.

The vampire screamed as if suffering an agonizing pain as she was faced with a symbol of the true faith. Her body flinched away and pressed against the door. The tension on the nun's face was replaced with relief as she nervously stepped towards her. Remilia's gaze shifted to what the woman held in her hand. A wooden stake. Her face twisted into an expression of fear and yet she did not move at all. The other neared. Closer and closer. Then, with the cross shoved into Remilia's face, she shoved the stake through her chest like the bullet before.

Remilia let out an anguished cry. Her eyes slammed shut as she lurched her body forward. It was as if she had collapsed onto this woman. Her head drooped over the woman's shoulder. It was as if she had the other in an embrace. A sound slipped from Remilia's lips, like the last gasps of a dying beast. Then her eyes fluttered open just a tad.

"Okay ~ you had your moment."

Squick!

Remilia suddenly sunk her fangs into the woman's neck. Aggressively drinking more and more as as terror shot across the other's face. Remilia could tell that she wanted to scream but with the pressure she was applying to her throat it was not possible. As she pulled her lips away blood squirted from the room onto her face.

"A noble attempt ma'am. It may have worked but it seems the true faith in my heart burns hotter than yours."

The vampire took the crucifix from the woman's hand just before she slipped to the floor. With a soft laugh she turned and opened the door. With a warm smile she stepped into the chamber. The anger in her heart evaporated the moment she saw Flandre safe and sound.

#scarlet carnation ~ remilia #rosegoldscarlet #tw: violence #tw: gore

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blackbat05 · 2 years ago

Text

Gravitating

Frank Castle x Reader

Plot: The newest member of the team, you’re determined to prove yourself. Especially to the big bad Punisher. But an unexpected turn of events makes you and him see things in a different light.

Genre: PG-13, Mentions of blood and injuries

A/N: I'm very into enemies to lovers these days. I need to chill tf out. Reblogs appreciated!

“That stupid, big jerk.” You muttered while staring through the binoculars. “How dare he tell me that I’m not capable. I’m perfectly capable! Who found their hideout first? Me!”

You had been tracking down one of Kingpin’s many hideouts along with Red and his team for months. With persistence and a trusted intel, you managed to find a safe house rumored to be in the drug business.

Being the newest member of the team, you eagerly bought the information to Murdock & Nelson, only to be shot down by the Punisher himself.

You shake the memory out of your head but a few words left lingering in your mind - coincidence or not, those words hurt the most.

“Why are you trying so hard to prove yourself?”

What you were trying to block out from your youth, had pierced your heart terribly. You refused to show your tears in front of the vigilante who had an unreadable expression on his face. Instead, you opted leaving the room quickly with Karen chasing after you.

“He didn’t mean that. We just need to check it out first to know what we’re walking into.”

You forced a smile, trying not to break down. “I know Karen. I just need to get out of there before I rip him into two pieces.”

She gives you a significant stare. “I’m fine, pinky promise.” You took her hand, giving it a slight squeeze. “I’m going back to take a rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Go straight home.”

Once you made sure Karen disappeared back into the building, you turned the opposite direction of your usual route.

You take a couple of photos of the van moving in unidentifiable boxes, imagining Frank’s reaction at the photos you would slam on the table the next morning at the law firm.

Then, you see it. A young woman is being forcefully dragged in by a burly man who has his hand clamped over her mouth.

Honestly, you were the kind of teammate to be behind the scenes. Especially when you had Matt and Frank - as much as you hate to admit for the latter. But you just couldn’t turn a blind eye to this. You raced down the stairs and ran to the opposite building you were surveilling, ready to attack to attack the assailant.

Sure, you had basic lessons in self-defense. However, as the adrenaline died down, you realized that your opponent was not any ordinary thug. He sees you and gives a sinister smile.

Oh no, he did not just underestimate you. Through sheer luck, you spot a metal pole discarded beside the van for you to wield. You don’t hesitate to make the first move, going in with the intention to hurt.

He howls in pain, clutching the back of his head. The woman is released and she’s momentarily stunned. “Go!” You yelled, snapping her out of her fright. “Don’t turn back!”

Perhaps Frank was right. As the rookie of the team, maybe you were trying to prove something. You were trying so hard that you forgot the most basic thing - to never turn your back against the enemy.

You feel a sharp stab at your side. Clumsily taking another swing of the pole, you don’t hear where it lands, neither do you care to see how he ended up. All you knew was that you had to get out of here immediately too. Clutching your side, you take off into a run.

With each step, your breathing gets more labored and your sweating buckets by now. You don’t know how far you’ve run and your vision is slowly getting disoriented. It’s late at night and the streets are close to empty. You panic at the possibility of you bleeding out on the streets.

An idea pops into your head. It’s the last thing that you would do but desperate times called for desperate measures.

***

Frank drives along the streets, letting the static consume his thoughts. He thinks about the conversation he had with you earlier and tries to shake it out of his head.

He saw the hurt that flashed through your eyes, going away as quickly as it came. Before he could even say anything, you stormed out of the building. Minutes later, Karen comes back alone and she marches over to Frank. She thinks that unlike what you promised, you were too stubborn for your own good.

“You better make sure she’s alright Frank. That was low.”

And so he’s here, trying to find your usual surveillance spot without much success. The phone rings and he picks up, putting it on speaker. He hears heavy and labored breathing and for a moment he thinks it’s one of those blasted prank calls.

“Frank…”

Surprised, he pulls over his car to the side. “Where are you?” He doesn’t know why, but something has gone wrong.

“I’m sorry, I should have listened.” You rambled out your apologies, no longer caring about pride. “I found them… one of them stabbed me.”

He grips the steering wheel hard at your words, heart hammering against his chest. “Where are you? God damn it, where are you!”

“Please, don’t scream at me.” You whimpered, leaning against the wall. “I don’t know Frank. I don’t know.”

And the phone disconnects. Frank tosses his phone aside, starting the engine once more. He needs to find you quickly.

He has to.

***

He can’t find you. It’s the fifth alley and Frank is close to causing a car accident. He couldn’t think of the what ifs. You had to be safe.

As he make a turn for the umpteenth time, the lights from his car shines on the wall with a bloody handprint on it. Frank forces himself to slow down, hopeful for a trail that would lead to you.

He sees that the print starts to get fainter and decides to go on foot. Frank sees a foot sticking out beside the trash can and automatically makes a beeline towards your broken form.

“Hey, hey!” Frank crouches down, checking your condition. You were drifting in and out of consciousness, hand no longer having the strength to put pressure on your wound. He notices that you’re starting to shiver and his brain kicks into overdrive.

Throwing his jacket around you, he carefully lifts you up, taking you to the car. Pressing speed dial, he prepares to call Claire Temple. He can’t take you to a normal hospital. Too many questions, too much risk.

Stepping on the gas, he tells Claire his ETA and the extent of your injuries before checking on your slumped figure at the passenger seat.

“Hey, don’t you sleep!”

And so you try to fight the fatigue. The only way to keep your eyes open was to talk.

“You were right. I overestimated myself. I shouldn’t have let my pride win… but maybe that’s good for you. Today showed that you were right…”

Frank’s knuckles turn white from the tight grip. Why did he have the tendency to let things get so bad?

"If getting things right means that something bad happens to you, I rather be wrong all the time."

You gave a lazy smile. "Don't be such a sap, that's not like you." You wince, clutching your side.

Frank sees a figure waiting on the sidewalk. "Hold on, we're almost there!"

As he screeches to a halt, the last thing you remember is seeing the fur of Frank's coat.

***

You blink the crust from your eyes, a groan escaping your mouth as you try to move.

As the sleep went away, you realize that you weren't in your house. The furniture around you was simple at its best. There were minimal personal belongings and no indication of whose house it belonged to.

Slowly, you attempt to prop yourself up on your good arm, only to hiss in pain.

"Careful, or Claire and Karen might just kill me for letting you open your stitches again." Frank comes into vision, sipping a cup of coffee. He hands you one, and you mumble a small thanks.

Frank drags a chair, sitting across from you. Suddenly, the coffee became very interesting.

You were the first to break the silence, as you remember bits and pieces from yesterday. "Um... thank you... for coming to save me."

Frank doesn't say anything and puts his cup down. The loud clank on the coffee table makes you flinch and you speak up. "I must be overstaying. I'll grab my stuff and go. Thanks for the coffee and I'll- uh... see you at Matt's."

The sudden movement throws you off balance but you fought to steady yourself. Grabbing the things that were left at the table, you sling it on your shoulder, ready to bolt. Frank holds you by the wrist, breath hitched at the edge of his throat.

"Stay. Your wound's still healing. You'll need someone to look after it."

"Don't worry, I can get Karen to help me." You try to pry yourself away from his grip, already feeling out of sorts that you had to seek help from him out of all people. "Please let go, your hurting me."

He jerks his hand back as if he touched hot metal. "Sorry..." Frank was reminiscent of a kicked husky as he tries to find his words. "I just... I shouldn't have said all those things."

You step away from the door and back into his living room. He takes this chance to continue.

"I can't imagine if I didn't find you." He doesn't look at you. Frank's fighting to keep a horrible memory away. "I don't know what I would do if you didn't make it..."

"All those things I said. I knew you were right. You were capable of finding that intel but I didn't want you chasing them on your own because you were too damn stubborn. You were too damn stubborn and you always looked out for others before yourself. I didn't know it would have turned out this way. I get that you hate me but I have to say it. I'm sorry."

Frank sinks down onto the sofa, face in his hands. You drop your bag, sitting beside him. You take a hand away from him, gently turning Frank to face you.

"I don't know if I can accept your apology just yet but I appreciate you always looking out for me Frank." You kiss him on the cheek as a token of appreciation.

There were many unsaid words, and hidden feelings between the two of you. You could never understand the big bad Punisher and he could not wrap his mind around the hot-headedness of the new rookie of the team. Yet here both of you are.

Bringing your bag closer, you unzipped the bag, taking out the stuff that you have. Frank sees you do a once over at the things that you have laid out, a small smile dancing on your face.

“So, I believe I’ll be staying a while more. Just to make sure I don’t bleed out. Do you think you could spare me a set of clothes?”

Frank grins. Tension flowing out of his body. Maybe… just maybe… with time, the unsaid words will be said. And the hidden feelings will be expressed. But for now, the two of you will enjoy this new found moment of what it seems to be shared understanding and deep respect for each other.

“Yeah, I do. In fact, I could spare you a couple.”

#frank castle x reader #frank castle #frank castle x reader whump #jon bernthal #the punisher x reader #the punisher #whump fic

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itsuki-minamy · 1 year ago

Text

"K - RETURN OF KINGS" (Novel)

CHAPTER 9: NEKO'S DREAM (Part 3)

* List of Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

"What are you going to do?"

Actually, no such voice was heard.

However, the gazes that were directed from everywhere said so. Curiosity, animosity. The reason why they were so obvious was not because Kuro's senses were particularly good, but because the people looking at him didn't know how to hide their feelings.

"You can't be stupid!"

"Photos, photos. Even information alone will earn you points!"

He took a deep breath.

It wasn't even a problem and he didn't attack. He could have thrown it away, but he didn't like to take advantage of a reluctant enemy. "Jungle" is definitely his enemy. He doesn't know what to do with the photos, but he can't let them serve as a "mission."

His body submerged for a moment and Kuro jumped high.

From railings to streetlights, kicking over traffic lights and signs, moving in a zigzag trajectory. It was a very slight distraction that a normal psychic could detect, but there was a scream from behind.

"Ah, he ran away!"

"Damn, I couldn't take a photo!"

After all, "Jungle" is that kind of group of people.

Humans who can't even be called psychic to the extent that ordinary people have grown hair. He can't even fight a decent battle, and if he ever gets into that kind of situation, he'll run away as fast as he can. Originally, they were not Kuro's enemies.

He thinks that's why it's so troublesome.

They are not combatants. These are the countless eyes and ears of "Jungle". There's no point in destroying it, but if you leave it alone, it will deal damage. Kuro couldn't even imagine how Hisui Nagare, the core and brain of "Jungle", would handle the information he received from his eyes and ears.

This is happening more and more every day. Neither "Scepter 4" nor "Homura" were able to capture "Jungle". It's only natural that there hasn't been any movement since the decisive battle a month ago...

At that moment, an explosion sounded nearby.

Kuro took a deep breath and immediately went into a fighting stance. While he was holding a shopping bag, he placed his hand on the sword at his waist. In front of his gaze was a man with an unearthly light that seemed to have caused the explosion.

But...

"Oh, it's not me!"

The man was completely confused. Pushed by the surrounding gazes, he took a few steps back and put his hand on the fire hydrant. Then, the red light shining on his hand moved towards the fire hydrant, and in the next instant, the fire hydrant exploded, spraying a large amount of water.

"Kyaaaa!"

A passing woman reached out her hand to block the fall of water. And this time, a blue light inhabited her hand, creating a distorted shield. The shield barely repelled the water, but its distorted shape spread the water over a wider area, drenching even more people.

"Wow?! What the hell is this?!"

"Ah, that guy! He's a psychic!"

Anxiety and fear created chaos that spread like an epidemic. It was as if he could see it in Kuro's eyes.

"What?!"

With the shopping bags still in hand, Kuro ran outside to clear up the confusion. There is no way that they, who until just now were ordinary people, knew how to calm down and control their supernatural powers.

Cursing Hisui Nagare in his heart, wondering if that was his purpose to unnecessarily sow confusion, Kuro extended his hand towards the people who had become makeshift Strains.

Overhead, the announcer from the street television was announcing with a serious expression.

"Next is the news about the incidents involving supernatural powers that are rapidly increasing across the country!"

++++++++++

"Since the beginning of the year, the Cabinet has introduced a special emergency bill for countermeasures at the national administrative level in response to incidents involving singular abilities that have been occurring frequently throughout the Kanto region."

Underground temple, "Secret Base".

Hisui Nagare continued his work while listening to the voices of the news echoing through the six mat room.

In the same room, the executives of "Jungle" met. Sukuna was enjoying the game as always and Mishakuji was doing strange poses one after another on the yoga mat. And Iwafune was slowly drinking beer while he was watching the news on TV.

"Oh, the "Slate" test is going well, isn't it? Old Kokujoji's information control doesn't work anymore."

"Yes, everything is going well!"

Nagare stopped working and looked at Iwafune.

"Yes, the number of people receiving special powers from the "Dresden Slate" is increasing. It's working well."

Mishakuji muttered in ecstasy as he moved into the "pigeon pose" on the mat.

"Fufufu. A new age is coming where everyone will shine with their own individuality. A chaotic jungle age full of life. A paradise for the fittest."

"Paradise. Isn't that what people call "hell"?"

Iwafune laughed as he said that, but Nagare didn't let it slip that there was a cold, hollow feeling in his voice.

Iwafune is his ally. There is no doubt about that. However, if he were to ask if Iwafune affirmed everything Nagare wanted in the world, it would not.

Sukuna, who was still lying down, shot teasing words at him.

"Hm, what's wrong? Are you scared old man?"

"Old man, old man! You coward!"

Iwafune didn't resist and shrugged slightly.

"Not that I have any complaints. The hell I can see is a little better than the hell I can't see. That's my choice."

Iwafune lied and started drinking beer again, while Nagare operated the device in his wheelchair. A window appeared in the air behind him and a real-time image of the "Slate" was displayed.

"Currently, about 40% of the unlocking of the "Slate" has progressed. As a result, the people who become Strains are constantly increasing. There are probably some who have managed to control their powers and are cleverly hiding their supernatural powers, so that the actual number is much higher than the data. It doesn't seem to be directly proportional to the progress of the opening and the awakening of the supernatural powers."

Added various screens to the "Slate" of the video. Display of seals, mostly gold and some blue.

"The special protection that the "Golden King" had over the "Slate was about to be released naturally. The "Blue King" reinforced that. As expected, he governs the "order" and precisely separates the supernatural powers surrounding the "Slate". But that will soon be fixed."

"If that happens, all 7 billion humans will become kings."

Nagare nodded to Mishakuji, who smiled in "bow stance".

"Affirmative. In order to make the arrival of the next era faster and safer, we have also issued a series of special missions for "Jungle" players."

The image in the window changed and an electronic map of Tokyo was displayed. The "Jungle" seal, which indicates the mission in progress, continues to move slowly.

After hearing about the mission, Sukuna stood up. He looked at the map skeptically and muttered to himself.

"Is that the "starter plan"?"

"Capture and scout newborn Strains, monitor and restrain other clans, and lay the groundwork for our future movements."

"Hmph, don't bother."

The reason why Sukuna pouted was probably because he wasn't involved in the "Boot Plan". Maybe he didn't like the fact that he didn't have the opportunity to participate in a mission that seemed interesting.

Mishakuji scolded Sukuna as he took the "Hero Pose".

"Delicious food requires preparation, Sukuna-chan."

"A moment ago you said: "Survival of the fittest". Winner takes all, right? Eat or be eaten?"

Sukuna manipulated the PDA into calling a certain news site. The person reflected there is none other than Mishakuji Yukari. Wearing an elegant suit, he smiled as if he were spinning on a potter's wheel.

"What the hell is this?! Why are you interviewing me without permission?!"

Sukuna looked at him and expressed his own impressions of him.

"It says here: "Beautiful CEO, Mishakuji Yukari. Member of "Jungle", which stretches into the future." Hey, you said something big."

"Oh, it's a cheap camera, but it looks pretty good. Let's spread it later."

"Hey, Nagare! Are you alright?"

Sukuna seemed to realize that he couldn't understand it and pointed at Nagare in a fit of anger. Nagare responded with an inorganic expression.

"Since the "boot plan" is a plan for us to make public, there is no problem in being exposed to the media. The method of exposure is entirely up to Yukari."

Mishakuji said confidently as he moved into the "Standing Tree Pose".

"In a group, something called a "flower" is necessary. That's right, the "flower" is me. With that, they will unite like bees attracted to honey."

"Don't say the same as the interview written here! Damn, the King of "Jungle" is Nagare! You're just a decoration!"

"I can't go to the "front" yet. If I make my whereabouts clear, it might invite other clans to intervene."

"Boot Plan" is a great mission to advance "Jungle" to the front. Since it was a plan to advance to the "table", a person was needed to be the representative. Nagare for the right reasons, Iwafune because of his personal beliefs and Sukuna because he is a boy, the white arrow was Mishakuji. That could be the reason why Sukuna was irritated.

However, Sukuna was right. In other words, it is a standing position, like a panda attracting customers, a clown. He was a little worried that it would go against Mishakuji's aesthetics.

"The decoration is not good. If it is a role that draws people's attention by beautifully decorating the whole body, I would appreciate it."

Surprisingly, Mishakuji was quite enthusiastic. Even if he is a clown, it might be a treat for him if he gets a lot of attention.

"I also really like the CEO position. There are many unique people among the VIPs in various fields, and various seeds are sprouting among the clan members."

As Mishakuji murmured in delight, the marker on the electronic map made a sound in response. A mission accomplished report. A great mission of 3000JP. What is shown there is a picture of a suspicious person wearing a black mask.

Iwafune reacted while he drank beer.

"Oh? Is this the ninja girl you mentioned?"

"That's right, Douhan Hirasaka. During the first attack on Mihashira Tower in October, she was captured by "Scepter 4" and lost a lot of points, but in the last month she regained points and returned to U-Rank."

"As expected of Douhan-chan. But she seems like she has recently become a good person."

It was a glamorous way of speaking that seemed to be typical of Mishakuji, but it was somewhat deceptive. Nagare tampered with the device and summoned a new person.

Iwafune put down the beer can and widened his eyes in surprise.

"Oh, this guy is..."

"It is rumored that he is a new face."

"Wow! News, new face!"

Everyone was staring at the person. He has a listless look and for some reason holds a knife in his mouth. It can be said that he is the person who is currently attracting the most attention within "Jungle". After all, his predecessor is his predecessor.

"Fushimi Saruhiko. Former number 3 of "Scepter 4". He has also rapidly increased his points since a month ago and has risen to U-Rank immediately."

"I know. This guy is a bounty boss."

Sukuna crossed her arms with a dangerous smile. Nagare, who understood what he was thinking, immediately stabbed him.

"Right now, the bounty on Fushimi Saruhiko has been suspended. I won't stop you if you want to fight, but I wouldn't recommend it. He is a promising player."

"Hmm."

Sukuna snorted and turned to the side. Iwafune asked as he stroked his beard.

"I for one am curious about the old "Scepter 4". If you think about it normally, he might be a secret agent, right?"

"Of course, we have the highest level of surveillance on him. However, no evidence of his contact with "Scepter 4" was found on any network. For now, we can only consider him as a target."

"Hmm, isn't it that kind of thing?"

The Fushimi icon made a sound signaling that the mission was accomplished. Seeing that point, Iwafune raised his voice.

"Hey, he has over 90,000 points!"

"It's not a point that can be earned in about a month. There's a chance some kind of trick will be used. It's fun."

"Hey, is that a trap?"

Sukuna clucked and Nagare quoted from the data Hirasaka sent the other day.

"According to him, it's not a trap, it's a glitch. If there's a hole, use "Jungle". I agree."

"......"

Sukuna's disgust grew stronger. But unfortunately, there was no adult there to calm him down. Mishakuji said happily as he gradually turned his body into "Hero Pose 2".

"If he completes the next big mission, he might even go up to J-Rank."

"Very likely. I have high hopes."

"Wow. This room is getting a bit lively."

The elders said what they wanted and Sukuna stood up as if he had been frustrated.

"Hmph, this is always not a big deal."

"Oh? Where are you going, Sukuna?"

"I'll catch some small fish."

Saying that, Sukuna headed towards the exit. Mishakuji cast a mocking voice behind him.

"OMG, a newcomer caught me and I got nervous~♪"

"Hey!"

Is it a sign from the stars that they looked at it? Sukuna, who must have realized that, didn't say anything else and left the room with wild steps.

Nagare bowed his head.

"I have a question. Why is Sukuna angry? An increase in our combat strength should be a joyous thing for us."

Iwafune laughed out loud, but did not answer the question. Instead, he fixed his gaze on Mishakuji.

"Yukari-chan, don't have fun and provoke the child. You are mean."

"Even if it's bad, it's love."

Smiling charmingly, Mishakuji made a heart symbol with his hand and, seeing that, Nagare bowed his head again.

++++++++++

"I am at home now."

When he opened the door to his room in the student dormitory, two voices greeted him at the same time.

"Welcome home~"

"Sorry to bother you."

One voice belongs to Isana Yashiro, who is a roommate. And then, the owner of the other voice left the room. Kukuri Yukizome. A common friend of Kuro, Shiro, and Neko. The smile she had on her face turned into a surprised face when she saw Kuro drenched.

"What? Is it raining outside? Towel, towel..."

Saying that, she retreated to the bathroom and threw down the bath towel. With a wry smile, Kuro accepted it gratefully.

"No... today I also had some problems with supernatural beings in the city."

Saying that, as he dried his hair, Kukuri frowned painfully.

"Oh, yes, there's a big ruckus here and there. I know, it's pretty scary when you first see it."

Kukuri crossed her arms and nodded. A year ago, she too experienced a similar situation when the school was occupied by "Homura". It was there that Kukuri first touched a supernatural power the world did not know.

Kukuri quickly waved her hand away.

"Ah! Sorry, I wasn't talking about Kuro-kun, okay? Kuro-kun and Wagahai-chan aren't scary at all!"

"I understand. Thank you, Kukuri."

"Hahaha... Ah, I have to go to the student council. Kuro-kun, I'll leave you some cookies, so please eat them."

In response, Neko's voice echoed from the living room.

"Wagahai is eating! It's delicious!"

"Well then Shiro-kun too. Good luck with your studies~"

"Yes, thanks."

And so, leaving only a bright smile, Kukuri lightly left.

Kuro put the used bath towel in the laundry basket and entered the living room. There, Shiro and Neko were sitting next to each other. A small table was placed on the raised tatami and a large amount of materials was spread out on it. With chimaki wrapped around his head, he looks like a student in the middle of a race.

"Thank you for shopping, Kuro. How is it outside?"

"The security situation is getting worse and worse. A month ago, the ''Slate'' that fell into the hands of the ''Green King'' surpassed the clan's boundaries and began to grant special abilities to common people."

After encountering a supernatural incident along the way, Kuro calmed down the panicked new Strains and then handed them over to ''Scepter 4''. Of course, they didn't cause it on purpose, so it shouldn't be a crime, but the confusion and fear that flashed in their eyes were vividly etched in his mind.

''Fortunately no one appears to have been injured, but that is within visible range. I've heard there's damage elsewhere."

For a moment, Shiro's movement stopped. He slightly tilted his face.

And Neko next to him took a cookie.

"Shiro!"

Out of reflex, Shiro opened his mouth. Neko tossed a cookie there and Shiro nodded slightly as he munched on the cookie.

"Yes. Take immediate action. We have to complete this investigation as soon as possible."

"No, I don't blame you, but you have a very auspicious attitude."

Shiro looked at Kuro and smiled with concern.

"Ahaha... I completely failed in the Christmas matter. But I can't give up. This time we have to properly stop the "Dresden Slate" and the "Green King" Hisui Nagare."

A month ago, the "Decisive Battle of Mihashira Tower" ended in complete defeat.

Although no one was killed, the "Dresden Slate" was captured and its subsequent whereabouts are unknown. "Scepter 4" continues to search with all its might for it, but due to the frequent incidents of supernatural powers, it seems that he is not going smoothly. It was only natural for Munakata to reject Shiro and Kuro's offer of help. Dogs are fond of "tracking."

However, it seems that Shiro didn't take the news of the force knocked out seriously.

There are things that only Shiro can do. How to deal with the "Dresden Slate" stolen by Hisui Nagare. Only Adolf K. Weismann, who discovered the "Slate", can come up with it.

"When I was a child, my sister scolded me a lot. "If you make a mess, clean it up yourself", she said."

Suddenly, Shiro looked into the distance and stared at the photo frame on the dining table.

There are sepia-toned photographs of three people, two men and a woman. Adolf K. Weismann, Shiro's predecessor, his sister Claudia Weismann, and a young Daikaku Kokujoji.

"I'm the only one who can clean it up. If I don't finish it properly, they'd both get mad."

Kuro has no way of knowing how Shiro feels about his late sister and best friend. He just looked down at the ground and speak with a vague thought.

"You've been doing great for the past month. I can't do anything, so I'm not worthy."

Right now, the only thing Kuro can do is calm down the commotion caused by "Jungle" and Hisui Nagare. It's not even a symptomatic treatment, it's just a cleaning. Even while he was doing that, the thought of Nagare constantly breaking the seal made him feel more and more impatient.

And while Neko nodded to that Kuro.

"That's right, Shiro is fine! Kurosuke is the useless one!"

"I don't want you to tell me that...!"

Kuro was a bit upset by her cheerful words, but he still felt relieved somewhere in his heart.

Because Neko had fully recovered.

Even after learning her true identity and choosing to stay with Shiro and Kuro, Neko still showed signs of depression from time to time. Neither Kuro nor Shiro clearly know the cause, because Neko didn't want to talk.

Maybe it's due to Neko's past. Shiro speculated that she had sealed her own memories due to some kind of trauma. She was very scared because it was about to be resolved.

She couldn't face the past that was so painful that she had to abandon it and be reborn as a different existence. Therefore, the only thing Kuro can do is be by her side. Together with Shiro, he snuggles up to Neko. That's all he can do.

A series of thoughts arose again, but...

"Kuro cooks for us every day."

Suddenly, Shiro said that. Kuro shook his head with a bitter face.

"Don't mix things up. It's serious."

Shiro smiled.

"It's a serious story. If Kuro doesn't cook for us, we'll die. If I don't do something with the "Slate", humanity will be in trouble. That's why I have to complete the countermeasures against the "Slate", and Kuro has to cook for us."

"That's right!"

Kuro smiled wryly at Neko to which she nodded. Just when he was wondering if she really understood, Neko nodded and said happily.

"Kurosuke works hard on his food! Shiro works hard on his studio! Wagahai works hard on supporting them! It's fine!"

Neko then took Kukuri's cookie and threw it at Kuro. As he looked at the cookie that he received, he thought that it was correct.

Do what you can. Step by step, move on. Ultimately, that's it. There is no point in rushing and if you try to find a way out, you may fall into a trap. She seemed like she was saying something irrelevant, but what Neko said was definitely the truth.

"That's right. I think so too."

Shiro reluctantly agreed and turned to the mass of material.

"I think I'll go with the "Sounding Hammer" plan for the "Slate". The Sanctum, which is deployed in a special state, causes an irreversible transition into the Weismann phase of the "Dresden Slate". This is an application of my sister Dr. Claudia Weismann's "Schwert Second Control Methodology", and it looks like this."

Shiro showed him a notepad with a diagram of arrows and spirals. No matter how you look at it, it's a child's doodle, but it's probably imbued with immeasurable meaning.

"Fufu, yes, that's good."

After all, Neko nodded. Looking at him, Kuro said.

"I see. For dinner, it's curry."

"Hurrah!"

"Curry! Yes!"

Neko and Shiro jumped for joy and clapped their hands. With a quick smile, Kuro headed to the kitchen to put on his apron.

++++++++++

Fujinouchi, Tokyo. Millennium Hotel.

New Year's Day is over, and the neighborhood, back to normal, was tremendously lively that day. Luxury limousines and stylish sports cars arrive one after another, spitting out beautifully dressed people. The relaxed and dignified appearance was exactly that of the upper class, and they entered the hotel one after another while chatting in groups.

Among the crowd were a couple of familiar people. A man and a woman.

As for the man, he is quite handsome with a soft gaze and a sweet mask. The elegant figure standing in a suit looks like a model somewhere.

The woman is a beauty with her glamorous limbs draped in an evening gown. Her chest, daringly open, is adorned with a pearl necklace.

It is about Izumo Kusanagi and Seri Awashima, number 2 of "Homura" and "Scepter 4".

They talked in secret.

"Still, I didn't expect to receive a date invitation from Seri-chan. And at a celebrity party like this."

"We are currently understaffed. In the first place, it was you who brought the information about this party."

The way they link arms and whisper in each other's ears is like a perfect lover. However, the sharp glances that Awashima occasionally displays as she watches the guests cannot be attributed to those of the upper class.

With a smile, Kusanagi brought his lips to Awashima's ear and pointed it out.

"Seri-chan, Smile, smile. Here, the daughter of the president of R&B Corporation, "Kusakabe Lise", I want you to behave appropriately."

"...I know."

After answering briefly, Awashima gave an awkward smile. The dress that makes movement difficult and the smile that hides her true face are far from the usual Awashima. She's not used to it, but work is work.

It was none other than Kusanagi who got the information that "Jungle" was planning a large-scale party.

The party, dubbed "Jungle Bootup Reception", was to be hosted by a new company "Jungle", which operates an advanced SNS, and invited celebrities from various fields. Many celebrities accepted the invitation, although they were not that famous, because they were starting to get the hang of it.

Concepts like clans and supernatural powers were hidden by "Tokijikuin". But that's just on a general level. It was an open fact for people who extended their antennae, even a little. And the recognition of "Jungle" was proof that the story of the capture of the "Dresden Slate" was widespread.

When she told him that information, Kusanagi said something reluctant.

"Those big boys have light footwork. Riding the winning horse, he's too cheeky. I wonder if that's the case."

That comment resonated with Awashima, from "Scepter 4," with a sense of coldness.

After they were defeated in the "Decisive Battle of Mihashira Tower", the loss of "Scepter 4" was clearly visible. The information provided by other public institutions stagnated and some began to blatantly ignore their requests. Even when she informed Munakata, all she could hear was a single word: "Are you sure?" That weakness was going to produce the result of being despised again.

Hearing such insults being openly uttered by some people about youths trying to seize hegemony in a country without knowing where they stood and were left on their knees after clumsily failing, Awashima felt her blood rise again.

However, Awashima said nothing. She is the deputy commander of "Scepter 4" and is in charge of all practical matters. Undercover investigation into this match was the "practice's" top priority. "Jungle, who hadn't been caught by his tail until now, dared to appear on the surface... No matter what, it was necessary to capture the information there.

Awashima said with a sigh.

"If Fushimi was here, I wouldn't have bothered you."

Fushimi Saruhiko left "Scepter 4" after the "Battle of Mihashira Tower", and his whereabouts were unknown.

The last time Fushimi was seen was in the "Scepter 4" detention center, when he escaped with Hirasaka Douhan.

She kept it inside "Scepter 4" and didn't tell other clans about it. Even Kusanagi shouldn't have known either.

"I see. Fushimi hasn't been found yet. What about Munakata-san?"

"I don't know. The chief's thoughts, Fushimi's feelings."

Awashima frowned as if to bear the pain. Kusanagi gently hugged Awashima's shoulder.

"Well, that's a disappointing face. It's a fun party, Seri-chan."

"Don't be silly."

Reflexively she tried to push his hand away from her, but she stopped. Actions that inadvertently attract attention should be avoided. Awashima looked at Kusanagi with an angry smile, and Kusanagi, with an unfamiliar attitude, continued to escort Awashima.

The receptionist at the "Jungle Bootup Reception" place was wearing a mechanical mask.

Awashima frowned. She has seen that mask many times. For Awashima, it was a symbol of a coward who wants to hide his true identity while he commits crimes. Awashima is frustrated and righteously outraged that such a coward would openly work as a receptionist at a luxury hotel.

Kusanagi gave Awashima a light pat on the back and stepped forward.

"Please sign in on the spot."

Kusanagi brought his face closer to the PDA that was outstretched. The PDA made an electronic beep and scanned Kusanagi's retina, displaying his ID. The receptionist smiled; although he couldn't see his face, he reached out and pointed to the door of the place.

"Kusakabe Izuru-sama and his wife. Welcome. Please head to the entrance there."

"Ok."

Awashima looked at Kusanagi as she walked arm in arm.

"So, I'm your "wife"?"

"Yes, my love."

Kusanagi doesn't feel uncomfortable at all. Awashima sighed softly, put on the domino mask she was given, and entered the venue.

The party venue was quite big. It is probably the most prestigious place in this hotel and you can see the night view of Tokyo from the windows that stretch along the wall. Under the luxuriously shimmering chandelier, celebrities in domino masks converse and are entertained by tuxedo-clad members of the "Jungle" clan. The only strange thing was that they were wearing a mask that covered their entire face.

"Hmm, this is a celebrity party that's better than you've heard."

In response to Kusanagi's admiration, Awashima quickly determined the customer's physiognomy.

"Senior government officials, businessmen, movie actors, writers, even the current prime minister."

The anger rose again. It is a well-known fact that it is none other than the current Prime Minister Kanichi Samukawa who is spearheading the condemnation of Munakata. First of all, "Jungle" is a terrorist, and it could be said that the Prime Minister's attendance at a party organized by that terrorist was a serious problem.

"Seri-chan, smile, smile."

"I know."

When she answered in a tone that he didn't understand at all, a voice suddenly blared from the ceiling speaker.

"I would like to thank everyone here for coming to the "Jungle Bootup Reception". On behalf of the organizers, "Jungle" Corporation CEO Mishakuji Yukari would like to greet everyone."

The lighting dimmed and a spotlight shone on the person who appeared on the stage. Both Kusanagi and Awashima are well acquainted with the man, with his hair slicked back and dressed in a smart suit.

"Everyone, welcome to the new era!"

The dignified behavior of him is almost the same as when he faced Kusanagi and Awashima in the "Decisive Battle of Mihashira Tower". Kusanagi muttered bitterly.

"Mishakuji Yukari from "Jungle", both his face and name are exposed. How bold."

"So he doesn't even feel the need to hide anymore."

As Mishakuji extended his arms, the screen behind him projected a huge "Jungle" logo. A confident speech echoed throughout the room.

"Everyone here is very lucky, because we can be the pioneers of a new era! Our information network "Jungle" will go beyond mere communication tools to redefine human beings as a next generation social infrastructure. The possibilities that before us are, yes, infinite..."

For Awashima, it was excruciating nonsense. No, her job is to make a fool out of it. Awashima winked softly at Kusanagi, leaving him and slipping into the crowd of people hanging out here and there. The voices of them gossiping whispered in Awashima's ear.

"The supernatural incidents that have been going on for a while have become a tailwind, haven't they?"

"It seems that the "Jungle" system will also be introduced to related ministries and agencies."

"There are rumors that that power will be ours."

With the power of her will, she hardened the expression that was about to turn hard. She knows there will be a headwind. She came all the way here to do something about it.

Then, she saw a middle-aged man waving his wine glass and laughing out loud.

"Well, it's a very happy day! Now that disgusting young man can't play any role! Is this the first year of "Jungle"? Hahaha!"

After stepping on the foot of the current Prime Minister with all her might with her heel, Awashima proceeded smoothly. It would be a lie to say that she couldn't stop drinking when she heard the screaming behind him, but Awashima quickly forgot. Because the target appeared right in front of her.

She pretended to trip in front of an attendant wearing a mechanical mask and then fell. The attendant immediately held Awashima up with one arm, and Awashima dared to press her chest against her arm.

"Oh, I'm sorry!"

From the other side of the mask, she could clearly feel the turmoil within. Awashima frowned in annoyance and looked at the staff with moist eyes.

"Excuse me, I'm a little dizzy."

"Oh, customer? Are you okay?"

"I wonder if I had too much to drink. I want to go somewhere quiet."

The attendant's throat rose and fell at the charming whisper.

++++++++++

And the officer collapsed on the ground.

He went down unconscious with a blow to a vital point, but it shouldn't be a lasting injury. Kusanagi turned to Awashima, who was next to him, after apologizing with a single bow.

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