#this red-hot man (if he could be called a man). this fate led to him pitying you and burning a fire on a pile of wood just to keep you warm

[gatitties]

Dear friend

─Dio x fem!reader (Platonic) [Phantom Blood]

─Summary: You find yourself tied to the infamous Dio Brando, creating a strange relationship despite being complete opposites.

─Warnings: occ and a little angst i think¿, Dio is soft in this one

I was a little delulu while watching jojo's and listening to sad music late at night led me to write this 😔🤌🏻

Dio Brando's life was not good in general, condemned to live in misery since he was born, with the only source of love and hope dying little by little, his mother was the only thing that kept him sane during his childhood, once his mother's life vanished in just a breath, he thought he would never feel what he used to call humanity again. His father could not be considered human, after all he had monstrous and condemnable actions, being only scum deserving of the most painful death.

He thought that he would be condemned in a spiral of darkness and filth, that his only goal in life would be to wait for his father's death and take over the fortune of the Joestar family once they adopted him, then another ray of light broke his dark shell, where his heart bled with pain, where the most sensitive part of the human being was hidden, even from him, who thought that nothing could give him back that lost humanity.

Dio was making some money as usual, betting a couple of coins to win more in that filthy bar, the carefree conversations and fights were a dull noise to him at this point, but the explosions, the burning smell and the screaming of someone in the kitchen wasn't something that happened often, that was the first time he saw you.

You ran out of the kitchen with teary eyes, coughing from the smoke you had inhaled, some parts of your clothes were burned, your cheeks were red from the heat and the embarrassment of being scolded by your boss while everyone watched, although you recovered soon when you were sent to do anything other than cook, it definitely wasn't your strong point.

Neither was waiting tables since you tripped over your own feet several times, your balance betrayed you at the worst moments and your hands seemed to be made of butter, but you remained firm with your optimistic attitude, that, and you needed the money, you were not going to leave this job nor would you allow such a quick dismissal.

Dio thought you were stupid to say the least, clumsy, distracted, inept… but for some reason he couldn't take his eyes off your figure when you were juggling to leave the beers on the table next to him, he couldn't figure out if you were purposely ignoring the lustful gazes of some depraved people or were you really that ignorant of your surroundings, he found it endearing in a way.

"Hey you, pay attention to the damn game!"

He grimaced, fed up with the man, he made his final move, winning and enraging the guy he was playing against, he threw the coins across the table, but before Dio could grab them his face was smashed into the plate of hot food making a thud that stopped the sound throughout the bar for a second.

It happened before he could react, he was planning to hit that old geezer to break his nose, but someone had gotten ahead of him, before he realized it, a burnt frying pan hit the bastard's face, causing blood to drip from his mouth, some teeth shooting out from its place.

"Don't waste food, you stuck-up idiot!"

Your expression changed to a frown, although everyone ignored your outburst, it wasn't the first time you hit someone for doing something that bothered you, but coming from a family with limited resources made you appreciate every little thing, you were a brave fool, you could mess with the most dangerous person on the entire face of the earth just for standing up for your values and ideals, and that, that's what caught Dio Brando's attention.

He didn't really look for interactions with you, you only caused him a slight curiosity, but there were many people just as stupid as you, living a miserable life, accepting their fate without aspiring to much more, but destiny seemed to want to intertwine your paths, that, or he just began to notice your presence more once he noticed you.

Of course, you also began to notice him more, it's not every day you find people with such striking appearance in the suburbs you used to frequent, especially people your age, and especially those who move through the darkness like you.

You accepted all kinds of assignments, even if they were dangerous, you always had luck on your side and a handful of sharp or blunt objects, aim was the only thing that probably stands out about your physical abilities along with stealth, you had learned to move like a rat, dark alleys, damp sewers… you knew every nook and cranny of this city by heart.

And that was how your first real interaction happened, you were both hired to do some smuggling for a good amount of money, you had worked in pairs before, but meeting the person you were strangely seeing everywhere lately was strange, you weren't going to turn down the job anyway, money is money.

What started with some ups and downs in your relationship was how curt Dio was, his harsh comments and lack of empathy made you frown, you scolded him occasionally for being so impolite and rude, not only to you but to other people who didn't deserved it. It was a tug of war between the two, complete opposites attracting each other.

When the relationship began to heat up, or rather when the remains of goodness that remained in a broken child made a little hole in his bleeding heart, it was when you took care of a drunken Dio, you found him raving, beating to death some poor devils who had decided to mess with him that night, you would have suffered the same fate if you hadn't been lucky enough that before he hit you he tripped on a rock, hitting his head. You took it from there and helped him without asking for anything in return, which caused him to distance himself for a few weeks after coming back looking different.

"What's wrong with you? Huh?"

You pointed accusingly at the blonde, who slapped your finger away from his face, letting out some complaints.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh don't try to play that with me, the time working with you was enough to be able to see through you, ah, I know, did you find a partner!?"

His eyebrow twitched at your new explosion of emotions, grabbing your head to keep your body still as you started to surround him asking a bunch of questions about his supposed partner.

"No."

"Aww" you deflated at his harsh response, recovering immediately "Anyway, seriously, there's something weird about you, I can see it in your eyes."

You moved a little closer to his face once he released you, looking directly into his captivating crimson eyes, although in truth you were just looking at your reflection on his gaze, sticking out your tongue as if you were posing for a photo, he looked in disbelief, you were too stupid and he didn't understand why, why after leaving those suburbs did he return? Why did he keep visiting you if he no longer needed you for anything? Why did he come back after moving to a better life? His mind couldn't understand it, but his heart won this battle and he let the only good feelings guide him towards your clumsy person.

"Whatever makes you sleep better."

He found himself enjoying your presence, your voice, your silly thoughts, your insignificant emotions more than usual, he found another source of light that illuminated the cracks in his shattered heart, minimally healing his inner child, and in turn, he repudiated every inch of your being, so kind and pure for someone like him, were you ignoring his evil nature or were you really that naive to not notice all the red flags around him? He didn't know it, but he would prefer that it stay like this for a while longer, all of his plans were moving forward and you weren't part of them.

You silently observe the sunset, the warm colors gradually disappearing as you lean against the half-broken cement wall, this building used to be your meeting point for the assignments you had together. You look back at Dio, who is unusually thoughtful, you also immerse yourself in your own thoughts, you were conscious, conscious of everything that Dio was and will be, you only needed some information that he let escape between the lines and his behavior of greatness to know that your friend was someone evil, someone who wouldn't think for a second about ending someone's life if they were a threat, you knew it and yet… Was it selfish to want to maintain this friendship? Even knowing that he wasn't someone to admire? Someone who repudiated half the world? That didn't agree with most of your values? Well, you were human, and selfishness is one of the facets that characterizes humanity, you never asked for much in your life, you wanted to grant yourself this whim despite everything.

"I don't know what will happen from now on, but thank you for all these years, I never thought I could have this kind of connection with someone."

Your neck almost broke from the speed at which you moved it to look at Dio, who was facing away from you, there was no way he had said that, expressing so many emotions and feelings like never before, were you dreaming? Was this some kind of alternate reality? Your eyes began to water because of his words, yes, you were a sentimental softie.

"That's so nice Dio, you should say that more often, instead of 'shut up bitch' or 'you suck'!"

You jumped on his back like a baby koala, sniffling on his shoulder while he froze for a second, trying to shake off your crying form, you seemed as fragile as a twig at that moment but you clung to him like a damn leech. He took you off of him after a couple of minutes, unexpectedly his arms surrounded your figure, seeing you buried in a mass of muscles for the first time, you were going to make a stupid comment, but for once you decided to shut your big mouth, passing your arms through his back.

No one dared to say anything, well, the look he gave you after he separated from you was a silent threat so that you wouldn't say anything about this moment of weakness he had, after all Dio has no weaknesses, he is superior to everyone.

Certainly, everything changed from that day, the relationship cooled because he disappeared from your life, you understood that the change in lifestyle was what caused it and if in a certain part it was true, you wanted to check that he was doing it right, it wasn't the case when you discovered that he was trying to kill Mr. Joestar, who welcomed him with open arms.

Your heart squeezed at the information, you knew that your friend was not a saint, you knew that he was a horrible person with others, but you remained selfish in your decision not to see him as human scum, to continue loving him like any other person. Your thoughts didn't last long though, at least not with the new version of him.

You were scared when you found him in your room one night, in the darkest corner, staring as if you were a prey, you could see his agitated breath coming out like smoke from a chimney, his eyes were still the same, but they scared you.

"Has the cat eaten your tongue? It's me, Dio! I don't think you've forgotten about me, I haven't, dear friend."

"You're not- you're not my friend…"

Your words came out shaky, the lump in your throat growing the closer the blonde got, this had to be a bad dream, you had heard that your friend had died after trying to kill Jonathan Joestar, although his body was not found among the rubble of the mansion, this couldn't be true.

"No? Maybe you're just confused, I'm still me, I've discovered a new way of living! I don't need that bullshit humanity, a longer lasting, stronger way of life! I am my best version."

You grabbed the lamp on your nightstand, making him smile at your fear, he knew you used to throw random things when you were angry or scared.

"You are not Dio! You are not the Dio that I know… your look is no longer the same, even when it was mischievous and evil before, it contained that shine of hope."

"Hope? That's pathetic, but you're lucky, I'm giving you the opportunity to live with dignity as a superior being! Just for being you, my only friend."

A hand covered your mouth, knowing that you would scream when he was next to you in the blink of an eye, he laughed at your reaction, resting his chin on the curve between your shoulder and neck, he grimaced as he felt you licking his hand, at least you were still stupidly brave to do that.

"Well? Will you agree to reign over all those filthy humans? You can live forever, without worries like money, no more shitty jobs."

You closed your eyes tightly in a last attempt to wake up if this was a dream, accepting that it wasn't, you moved away from his body, almost falling off the bed, you turned your body slightly to face him directly, oh that certain look of yours, it made him smile.

"I'm sorry, but the Dio I know is dead, and I refuse to accept a deal from a stranger."

He began to laugh lightly without taking his eyes off you, in another blink his imposing figure caught you, feeling again the mass of muscles imprisoning you between chest and biceps, your face pressed to his heart made you listen to the calm rhythm of it.

"I didn't expect anything less from someone as stupid and clumsy as you, I honestly knew that you were going to reject eternal youth, it's a real shame… but coming here was more of a whim."

His grip loosened a little, he rested his head on top of yours, closing his eyes for a few seconds, taking in as much of your scent as he could and it was gone as quickly as it came, you were barely able to react as the heat around you disappeared in a fraction of second, you looked with doubt at the open window, noticing how he was watching you from somewhere, you frowned, still with your lamp in your hand you threw it out the window, closed it as quickly as you could, you got under the sheets as if you were going to scare away the monsters of the night, closing your eyes although with a small smile when you heard the moan of Dio, who had been hit by your impeccable shot.

If you weren't his dear friend, you would have been three meters underground for a long time.

[plutodetective]

It is again early morning, but I have rested and enjoyed the last twenty-four hours. I slept till late in the day, and awoke of my own accord. When I had dressed myself I went into the room where we had supped, and found a cold breakfast laid out, with coffee kept hot by the pot being placed on the hearth. There was a card on the table, on which was written:—

"I have to be absent for a while. Do not wait for me.—D." I set to and enjoyed a hearty meal. When I had done, I looked for a bell, so that I might let the servants know I had finished; but I could not find one. There are certainly odd deficiencies in the house, considering the extraordinary evidences of wealth which are round me. The table service is of gold, and so beautifully wrought that it must be of immense value. The curtains and upholstery of the chairs and sofas and the hangings of my bed are of the costliest and most beautiful fabrics, and must have been of fabulous value when they were made, for they are centuries old, though in excellent order. I saw something like them in Hampton Court, but there they were worn and frayed and moth-eaten. But still in none of the rooms is there a mirror. There is not even a toilet glass on my table, and I had to get the little shaving glass from my bag before I could either shave or brush my hair. I have not yet seen a servant anywhere, or heard a sound near the castle except the howling of wolves. Some time after I had finished my meal—I do not know whether to call it breakfast or dinner, for it was between five and six o'clock when I had it—I looked about for something to read, for I did not like to go about the castle until I had asked the Count's permission. There was absolutely nothing in the room, book, newspaper, or even writing materials; so I opened another door in the room and found a sort of library. The door opposite mine I tried, but found it locked. (dracula)

When I woke up, I was alone, lying on a sofa in a simply furnished little bedroom, with an ordinary mahogany bedstead, lit by a lamp standing on the marble top of an old Louis-Philippe chest of drawers. I soon discovered that I was a prisoner and that the only outlet from my room led to a very comfortable bath-room. On returning to the bedroom, I saw on the chest of drawers a note, in red ink, which said, 'My dear Christine, you need have no concern as to your fate.  You have no better nor more respectful friend in the world than myself.  You are alone, at present, in this home which is yours.  I am going out shopping to fetch you all the things that you can need.' I felt sure that I had fallen into the hands of a madman.  I ran round my little apartment, looking for a way of escape which I could not find. (the phantom of the opera)

The parallels are so chilling. The note. The locked doors. Christine is more desperate than Jonathan because she already knows for a fact that she’s been kidnapped (and I love the inversion too. She fell into the trap because she thought Erik was a supernatural being, an Angel sent by her father, when his danger lies in the fact that he’s just a normal man. Jonathan fell into the trap thinking he was going to meet a normal man, and fell in the clutches of a dangerous vampire), while Jonathan is frightened of the red flags, but still hasn’t enough evidence to fully realize what happened to him. And I love the differences too. Erik, under the delusion that he’ll later manage to make Christine into his wife, almost seems to care about his captive’s comfort. She has the means to do her toilette, and assurances that she won’t be touched without her consent. Of course, that’s nothing. He has fucking kidnapped and imprisoned her, and she’s right to despair. But even at these early stages, when Dracula has yet to show his true colors, Jonathan is being offered less than Christine. Dracula later claims to love him, yet he’s already deprived of mirrors and is already being touched in ways that make him uncomfortable. I love and am fascinated by both the similarities and the differences in these two passages. I love Jonathan Harker, Gothic Heroine.

[galraluver]

This fic is the second installment of this request

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When the weekend finally came a young woman who's name was (Y/n) decided to go out to the nearest forest so she could clear her mind; the weather wasn't too hot or too cold, making it the perfect weekend to go outside. She recently had the inspiration to draw fanart for a show called Voltron Legendary Defender, or rather a specific character in the show named Alfor. Alfor was her absolute favorite character from Voltron, she just wished that there were more flashback episodes with him in them. After watching every episode where he made an appearance (Y/n) developed a slight crush on the original red paladin, wishing that she could have the chance to be in a relationship with him. She'd searched everywhere online for fanart and fanfics featuring him, unfortunately it seemed like almost no one wrote reader insert fics for any of the original paladins aside from Zarkon, and even those were rare.

(Y/n) didn't mind writing fanfics featuring her favorite characters, but her thing was drawing fanart and that's exactly what she was going to do that day. She made sure to pack all of her best art supplies and whatever else she needed before she got in her car and drove out to the forest, knowing no one would bother her all the way out there. On the way to her destination she noticed how the wind seemed to pick up a little, although she didn't think anything of it since it seemed to settle down once she arrived. (Y/n) grabbed her stuff and started looking for a nice place to sit as soon as she locked her car, ready to start drawing a picture of Alfor; upon entering the woods she felt like someone was there with her, even though she couldn't see or hear anyone. The young woman shrugged it off and continued walking down the dirt path while making sure to watch out for any poison ivy and poison oak.

She briefly remembered one of her late grandparents telling her about the elves and fairies who lived in the forest; thinking about the old stories brought a smile to her face and gave her the idea to draw Alfor as an elven king. She could draw him sitting on a rock while wearing clothing she imagined an elf king wearing along with a crown crafted from silver and rubies. During her little hike (Y/n) could have sworn that she heard a quiet groan coming from somewhere in the forest which gave her the chills, so she stopped and listened for a few moments; there were barely any birds chirping which obviously was a bad sign and she wondered if she should leave, but she decided against it when she didn't hear the groan or any footsteps. (Y/n) wondered if there was some sort of mystical being following her through the forest, and she was right about not being alone, although she didn't know that at the time. The forest did seem kind of magical that day, little did she know what, or rather who, she would find nearby.

"Hello?" (Y/n) asked out loud when she heard the groan again, once again stopping in her tracks; judging by the sound of the pained groan whoever it came from was a man, one who might be badly injured.

There was someone else in the forest with her, but the man in question had come from a completely different reality; after creating his very first portal Alfor accidentally fell through and got knocked out as soon as he reached the other side when he knocked his head on a tree, leaving him drifting in and out of consciousness while he bled from where his head hit the tree. The young altean alchemist had the tendency to be a little clumsy which often led him to having a few misadventures from time to time, unfortunately this time he didn't have a way to get back to his own reality which meant he was stuck in the real world. He left behind his kingdom and his fiance, but it wasn't the end of the world, his fate was simply changed and he would be perfectly alright once he was rescued. When (Y/n) heard him groan again she followed the sound until she came to a dense area of the forest where the portal left him; it wasn't easy walking through the bushes and past trees, but she wasn't going to leave an injured person to die in the woods despite not knowing who she was about to save. (Y/n) gasped when she finally saw who was laying on the ground next to a large tree, although she thought that she might have been dreaming or something since the man laying on the ground was none other than Alfor; he looked as though he was in his early twenties, or at least the altean equivalent, but he still looked quite young.

"H-hey, are you okay?" (Y/n) hesitantly asked Alfor when she knelt down next to him, gently nudging his right arm to see if he was still alive or not.

Alfor cracked his eyes open for a second when he heard (Y/n) speak to him, unfortunately he fell unconscious before he could respond; he couldn't quite hear what she said but he knew that she wasn't a threat to him. (Y/n) knew that she needed to help Alfor so he wouldn't die in the middle of the forest or be found by someone else who might harm him, so she inspected him and saw that he had a cut on his head where it hit the tree. She couldn't stand to see his blood staining his silky white hair; she had to work quickly if she was going to help him in any way she could. Getting Alfor to her car was going to be difficult because he was larger than she was, but (Y/n) was determined to take him home so she could clean and dress his wound. She could hardly believe that she actually found Alfor, her favorite character from Voltron, the legendary original red paladin, just laying out in the forest; it shouldn't have been possible, although her main focus was getting him to her car and taking him home.

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(Y/n) took a few days off from work so she could take care of Alfor as best as she could; he was unconscious for the first day and a half of him staying in her guest room, but after she managed to get him home she cleaned his wound and dressed it so that it wouldn't get infected. She had so many questions and she desperately wanted to know how he appeared in the real world, unfortunately she wouldn't get any answers until he woke up. Obviously she couldn't tell anyone why she had to take a few days off from work, or rather who she was taking care of, thankfully her boss understood when she told them that she needed to help take care of a friend. (Y/n) had so many questions for Alfor, although she wasn't sure how good his memory would be after he woke up. On the second morning of Alfor sleeping in her guest bedroom (Y/n) ate breakfast in her dining room as usual, wondering if or when he would wake up from his comatose state. She was met with the sight of the young king sitting up in bed when she went to check on him; he looked extremely confused while he looked around the room until his gaze fell on her, then he had a look of concern and confusion painted across his face.

"You're awake. How are you feeling?" (Y/n) asked Alfor as calmly as she could, walking over to the bed and sitting on the edge; gazing into his eyes was like gazing into the ocean, but she had to remain professional while speaking to him.

"I'm fine; my head hurts a little, but I'll be alright. Might I ask who you are and where you've brought me?" Alfor replied with a groggy tone while looking at the young woman sitting on the edge of the bed, noticing how she kind of looked altean, minus the pointy ears and facial markings.

"I'm (Y/n), and you're in my guest bedroom. I can bring you an ice pack for your head and something to eat and drink if you'd like." (Y/n) introduced herself before offering him something to eat and drink, as well as an ice pack for his aching head.

Alfor thanked (Y/n) for her hospitality prior to her standing up and walking out of the room; his whole body felt sore and his mind felt foggy, but he figured that he just needed something to eat, something to drink and some bed rest for him to feel better. So much had happened since he fell through the portal; he knew that he was stuck in whatever reality he ended up in, so he hoped that someone worthy would take his place as king of Altea and marry Melenor. He was still panicking, of course; his whole future changed and he had no way of getting home, although he tried to remain calm because panicking only made his headache worse. It wasn't long before (Y/n) returned with a bowl of mixed fruit, a cup of water and an ice pack for him; he wasn't familiar with the fruit or the ice pack, but in his dazed state he wasn't going to question any of it. (Y/n) could tell Alfor already had a lot on his mind, she understood that it was a lot for him to take in, so she had to help him adjust to the real world as much as possible.

"Here, this should help." (Y/n) spoke softly when she placed the ice pack, the bowl and the cup on the nightstand, once again sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Thank you, I appreciate your kindness." Alfor thanked her again, feeling his stomach rumbling when he looked at the chopped fruit in the bowl.

"I'm just glad that you're awake. Although, how exactly did you end up laying unconscious in the forest?" (Y/n) responded with a friendly smile; she wanted him to feel comfortable in her home, but she was dying of curiosity about how he ended up in the real world.

Alfor looked at her for a moment with a blank stare as he collected his thoughts, then he began telling her how he had been trying to create portals with some magical stones; the portals were just meant to transport people to other planets, he didn't think they could transport people to other realities. He was the only person who got sucked through the portal he tried to create and he was almost positive that the stones, ones that were the only four of their kind, were destroyed when his little experiment went wrong. (Y/n) listened to everything Alfor told her with interest, not minding him introducing himself to her since it seemed to help him stay calm. It was obvious that he'd sustained a concussion when his head hit the tree, so he needed to take it easy for the next couple of weeks so he could make a full recovery. After he finished telling her everything he remembered Alfor had to take a small break from talking, thankful that the fruit and water helped his dry throat.

"If I may, why do you seem as though you know me? We've barely met and yet you act so casual." Alfor questioned, wondering why (Y/n) seemed so calm around him; he understood that he was in a different reality, but he got the impression that she somehow knew him even though they'd never met each other before.

"It's a long story, so if it's alright I'll tell you during dinner. You really need to get some rest, I'll give you a little tour after you've finished eating and drinking, if you can walk well enough." (Y/n) answered, feeling a little awkward when she thought about telling Alfor how she knew him and about the life he had in Voltron; she knew that he knew nothing about Voltron because he wasn't even married when he created the portal, but he needed to know the truth.

"It's alright, I understand. I must say though, this is the wildest adventure that I've ever been on." Alfor said, a slight grin appearing on his face when he thought of his situation as a new adventure.

(Y/n's) smile widened as she thought about when she first saw him in the backstory episode at the end of season three; he jumped right into a fight that he couldn't end on his own, a completely reckless move, but it was one of the things that made him even more adorable. There were so many thoughts racing through her mind while she watched him hold the ice pack up to his head with one hand while he used the other to eat, she just needed to focus on taking care of him instead of fangirling. She got to let her absolute favorite Voltron character live in her house/apartment and take care of him, it was a lot to take in which meant she had to stay focused. Alfor hadn't known (Y/n) for very long and yet he was able to trust her; he personally thought she was pretty, although he decided to keep that thought to himself. Living in another reality would definitely take some time to get used to, especially since he knew nothing about it, thankfully things would turn out well for him and he'd have a wonderful life with (Y/n).

[dogboymutual]

the sun demands blood.

you are a young child, and you haven't yet learned what the sun could do to a naive heart like yours. you go outside to play on a warm summer's day, like many children your age do. your parents watch from the shade of the porch with tense, forced smiles as you splash around in the sprinklers. your skin is covered with a light sheen of the water that has long since rolled off your body. after a while, your parents hear a cry. they have to look after your baby sibling, so they call out for you to come back inside, or at the very least, stand on the porch.

you do not. you roll your eyes. your parents have always been overprotective of you, from the moment you were born. you never understood why they worried about you so much when you went outside. even just on the trip to school, they would make sure to send you with a jacket and a hat. your running has caught up to you, and you grow tired. you yawn, laying down in the misted grass for a moment.

when you wake up, it's to the panicked sounds of your parents and a gentle shove to get you onto your side. you are carried into your house, your eyes wide as you try and ask them what's wrong. you try to reach for them, but your skin burns. you bring your arm within eyesight, and it is scalded red. the next few days pass, your skin shedding off of you to reveal similarly red, raw skin beneath.

.

you are a young adult, and you've turned out to be a good person, as far as you're aware. you're crossing the street one day on your commute to work. you've managed to increase your pace so that it only takes 10 minutes to walk from your home to your office and back, something you've become incredibly proud of over the 3 years you've worked there. you pass an alleyway and through the darkness of the sunglasses you've made a habit of wearing, you manage to spot an altercation.

you always knew your manager had a problem with gambling, but you had no idea he was in this much trouble with local criminals. your mind races as you debate whether it's worth it to try to intervene, but the sudden glint of a blade within the high sunlight freezes you in place.

your body is paralyzed with fear as you watch the red blossom from his white dress shirt -- once, twice, thrice, even more times than you would like to count. the jacket he had been wearing has new holes in it, slowly blooming with blood stains as well, after a while. you're lucky that the criminal didn't manage to see you, because after he's certain that his victim is dead, he runs further down the alley and out of sight.

you race forward before your mind can even think to, hoping that maybe, somehow, he's not dead yet. you could be a hero, a guardian angel, someone worthy of praise and adoration, or at least a 20% raise.

but your heart sinks as reality slowly begins to dawn on you. there was no way you could have saved this man. he was destined to die here. his choices led him to this fate, and had you tried to help him, your choice would have led you to yours.

you unwittingly reach down and touch the blood on the pavement with one hand while the other tries to dial emergency services with shaking fingers.

the blood is searing hot, almost like molten lava.

once you get out of the alleyway and into the direct sunlight again, you can swear it almost feels brighter outside. you look up and even through your sunglasses, the sun's light sears into your vision.

when you return on your way back home, there's nothing left but a puddle of red and a bit of the viscera that his attacker had managed to pull out with his knife. it sticks to the cement like a promise.

.

you are well into your adult years now and you've been lucky enough to have never experienced anything of that nature again.

it's nighttime, and you've had a long day of paperwork at the office. it's tough being a manager, especially nowadays being short-staffed. the world around you is getting warmer, the light is almost unbearable some days. normally, you can get by with a hat, some sunglasses and an outfit that covers most of your skin, but sometimes you even wear gloves to the office, just to protect the feeling of your hands searing in the unforgiving heat.

you haven't slept much since witnessing your former manager's brutal death. every time you try and close your eyes, it's like his corpse reappears and tries to take you with it. you shake hands with business partners and sometimes you can still feel the scorch of his blood beneath your fingertips.

your eyes are closed and your mind is somewhere dark when you suddenly feel a pair of eyes on your back.

you turn around, and there, in the darkness of the moonlight, is a tall, thin woman with long legs, burning red eyes and ebony hair cut bluntly to her chin.

"hello, stranger," she says with a smile that's not quite comforting enough to keep it from being unsettling.

your throat is dry and you cough before responding. "h-hello." you've always been a polite person -- your parents raised you that way.

she takes a step closer, the heel of her boot clacking against the dark pavement below. "what's a person like you doing out so late? don't you know it's past daylight?"

you want to answer, but she continues, taking another step forward. "you look classy, probably have a nice job somewhere, right? who'd you have to kill to get that position?"

your eyes widen. you instinctively try to take a step back from her, but something about her blood-red gaze keeps you standing still. it's like you're watching him die all over again.

she steps forward once more, only a step or two away from you now. at least, in terms of her strides. "i think you deserve a warning. after all, only bad things crawl around at night."

you can't remember her taking the last stride towards you. all you can remember is waking up later in your home, wearing your jacket, gloves, and sunglasses in your bed.

you hadn't put them back on for the walk home, though.

.

you are still an adult, going through the routine of your weekday mornings. you wake up, take a shower, brush your teeth, get dressed, have breakfast, and then head to work. same old thing, every time.

you don't usually look in the mirror -- you've developed a phobia of seeing yourself red and burned from the sunlight, ever since the horrible burns you received when you were a kid.

breakfast tastes awful, like ash in your mouth. you check the expiration date on everything, but it's all still supposedly good. you decide that maybe you're just growing out of the same breakfast foods and want something new. you resolve to go to the grocery store and buy some new things after work.

your last good jacket was the one you somehow wore to sleep last night, and you'd rather not dig up any of your other dirty laundry. you decide that maybe once, it's okay to go without it this time.

the moment you step outside, there is searing pain everywhere. it feels like you're being sunburned again, only much worse.

there is the same feeling of lava beneath your fingertips.

you look up and feel yourself losing your vision to the unyielding whiteness of the sun's light.

as you feel yourself nearly burning to death, you hear a familiar voice. the woman from last night.

she whispers in your mind, almost, "i apologize for not telling you in advance, but the moment you go out at night, you're doomed to it. after all, only bad things come out at night."

you splutter through melting vocal cords, what is still left of your fingers reaching to your throat and feeling it give way beneath your touch.

she continues, "you see, our kind has made a pact. we keep our immortality as long as we sacrifice enough people to satiate our god. we find who we can, glamour them into a trance, initiate them, and then they can't remember what happened, so they happen to wither away under the all-seeing light."

your jaw breaks off, knees buckling and sticking to the concrete beneath you. you are turning into a searing red puddle, just like him.

"and if they happen to not go out within the next 24 hours and solidify themselves as our kind, well... we get creative with the ways we sacrifice them. silver, dismemberment, things of that nature."

you can still feel yourself burning, despite your existence as a mess on the sidewalk.

"you were somehow even easier to get to than your friend was all those years ago. you should have known, given the fear you have. i mean, you quite literally watched the man die and begin to melt. you must either be brave or foolish."

there must be something you can do, but your body is frozen, searing in pain.

"i suppose your thoughts answer my question. well, the good news is that you'll be able to sustain our god for quite a while, young one. the bad news is that you will still feel your death until your existence finally fades, once God has had its fill of you."

if you had any way to express yourself, you would be in sheer horror.

she giggles, and the last thing you hear until your existential nightmare is finally, mercifully over, is her whispering to you --

"the sun demands blood."

Please reblog, I’m trying to make up a god

[quanxui]

in the mood for abyss mage x reader.

oh no i just realized the tags got cut lmaoooo. nevermind this is cursed anyways

[shivada-jade]

soulmates! (2)

soulmate!au BECAUSE IM WEAK. YOU'RE WEAK TOO.

characters: ganyu, kaeya, thoma ➡ mentions: cloud retainer, ningguang, adelinde, diluc, crepus, rosaria, traveler warning(s): like- just one swear

part one: (bennett, zhongli, diluc)

ganyu: can see footprints where soulmate has recently stepped on. if followed, they will be lead to their soulmate. sort of like "hot and cold" cold if you're far and hot if you're close

she knew she is a very busy person. she surprises herself when she asked ningguang for a day off.

"you want a day off?" she remembers ningguang's composed face deteriorate and herself doing the same thing.

ningguang let her rest for two weeks even if ganyu had only requested one. now she has so much free time.

the first thing she did was sleep, but she couldn't- not when she spots purple footprints.

as part adeptus with one heck of a good eyesight, she always assumes that the footprints on the ground are because of her eyesight, but cloud retainer says otherwise.

"child, you have a soulmate system of which," the old bird starts. "where one has the ability see where one's soulmate has been, and if they've been there recently."

blue footprints that fade away means her soulmate had left a long time ago. red-ish-orange footprints mean that her soulmate is very close by, but it's never been that colour in her eyes.

ganyu strolls along the grassy plains of liyue, admiring all the sweet flowers. she lightly touches her horns, a habit she got from being awoken from naps on a field of sweet flowers.

the footprints were purple, which is the closest to red ganyu had ever gotten. blue is the colour she always sees like her vision, her hair, the waters of liyue, and the glazed lilies.

the purple is also as beautiful.

"fate will bring two together at the right moment. thou need not rush." ganyu can hear cloud retainer say, so she didn't run after the footprints.

the half-adepti thrums her fingers on her leg, unsure what to do with all the free time given to her. she supposes she can head back to liyue and have tea with madame ping.

meeting madame ping confuses ganyu. the elderly woman keeps asking of her soulmate system and if she's met them.

"ganyu, have you met them?"

"ganyu, why not chase after them?"

"ganyu, ganyu ganyu-"

ganyu politely sets her teacup down, "i have yet to find them."

madame ping chuckles in her elderly woman way, like those smug elderly women who know more than others but will act clueless to amuse them.

"you know, i have a special gift, some speculate it as a curse, but i think it's wonderful," she said, pouring more tea for ganyu. "i have the ability to see red strings that connect soulmates. i can connect, i can break connections, but i can't see my own."

ganyu frowns slightly, "have you met yours?"

"no, but it makes me happy seeing the strings connect with people," she blows on her tea to make it cooler and turns her head to avoid looking at ganyu.

"madame ping, why-"

"you," a person behind ganyu seethes.

meekly, ganyu turns around and finds someone glaring at her. "may i help you?"

"ganyu, right? why do you always walk so fucking fast. i can never catch up to you when i see your footprints, and you're always going from place to place. one moment you're in liyue, the next your in somewhere like fontaine or something. it's like you're spiderman."

ganyu's jaw goes slack, "you're my soulmate?" she looks at the ground, seeing red footprints of where her soulmate had just walked. she now understand why madame ping kept asking her about her soulmate, because madame ping knew her soulmate was going to meet her.

ganyu clears her thoat, standing up to offer her soulmate a seat, "would you like to join us for tea?"

her soulmate blinks, and looks at the tea set then back to ganyu, "sorry, i didn't mean to intrude your tea party. i'm [name]."

"hello, i'm madame ping," the woman speaks "and your soulmate is ganyu. have tea."

ganyu stifles a laugh and sits on a chair next to her soulmate. "i apologize for walking too fast."

kaeya: he hears what his soulmate sings

at first kaeya thought he was going crazy when he kept hearing music in his head.

"dad!" he cried, forcingly rubbing away the tears that fell down his cheeks. the kids near the winery had come over and played with him and diluc, and that was when the first notes started. it never bothered him. he brushed it off until it became a full sound of a voice and a song.

not understanding scared kaeya to death. he always knew something, but this is the first where he doesn't know. he felt like he was going insane with this voice in his head, singing in his head; a voice that wasn't his.

"dad!" he called out again more desperately. diluc held him by his side, worried for his brother.

"father!" dliuc called this time, "father, kaeya's feeling sick."

diluc brought in kaeya, rubbing his back in attempt to comfort him. he saw adelinde and waved to her.

adelinde gasped when she spotted the blue-haired boy sobbing. she dropped her feather duster on the shelf she was dusting and dropped herself next to kaeya, inspecting of there were any wounds on his skin.

"kaeya, dear. what's the matter?" she quietly tells diluc to get his father in the wine cellar and gently pushed kaeya to take a seat near the fireplace.

diluc silently obeyed and ran, unlocking the door that led to his father.

kaeya hiccupped, unable to form words.

adelinde hushed him. her motherly fingers soothed his head, "what's wrong? breathe with me, dear. just until your father gets back."

she inhaled and exhaled in a steady manner for kaeya to follow. the boy shakily did the same. he did it a few more times, inhaling and exhaling slowly with adelinde. he calmed down. the crying stopped and his breathing was normal again. adelinde took this as another chance to ask him what's wrong.

"are you ready to tell me?"

kaeya blinked the tears off and gripped his clothes to stop himself from crying again. "it's happening again. i- i don't understand miss adelinde."

adelinde placed a hand over kaeya's for him to know she was listening. "what don't you understand?"

"i keep hearing things. i always hear a voice that isn't mine in my head-" kaeya sputtered.

diluc and crepus open the door from the cellar. crepus' face etched with worry when he spotted kaeya crying to adelinde. diluc had told him as much as he could but all the information he gathered was kaeya started covering his ears and crying.

"-all the voice does is sing and sing. i don't even like some of the songs it sings! i don't- i don't know," kaeya stammered, not noticing the two others that joined. "i don't know what happening to me. i'm scared."

crepus smiled at adelinde and nodded to her, signaling that he can handle it from here. adelinde gave a grateful nod and brushed herself off the floor to continue her duties.

"my boy," crepus smiles, kneeling in front kaeya to see him better. he brushed his face with a thumb and hugged him. crepus chuckled when kaeya hugged him tighter.

"my boy," the man continued with a knowing smile on his face. "that's your soulmate system. you can hear them singing if they sing as they can hear you singing when you sing."

kaeya lets go from crepus' hold and sniffled his tears away, "what? but isn't a soulmate system when things fall on you?"

diluc from the back of the room silently listened in, also confused as kaeya. didn't everyone have the same soulmate system?

crepus pats kaeya's shoulders, "we all have different ways to know who our soulmate is. yours and diluc's soul systems are different from everyone."

"master crepus is right." adelinde piped in while dusting off the dust on the shelves. "my soulmate system is a countdown to when i'll meet them."

kaeya looked at the woman shocked, "so not everyone has things falling on them?"

"correct." crepus raved, "but unlike diluc's soul system, instead of things falling on me, it appears on my hand for my soulmate system."

diluc eyes his brother, picking up a stray book on a chair and handed it to adelinde to help her.

kaeya pulled a cheeky grin and pointed to diluc, "diluc's eavesdropping."

the said boy gasped and turned his body around to make it look like he was doing something busy.

crepus bellows a laugh, "so what song is your soulmate singing?"

...

to be frank, kaeya had no idea what his soulmate sang that day. it was random words jumbled together. in fact, most things his soulmate sings are songs he has never heard before. it progressed from simple tunes, but now kaeya feels like his soulmate might be a song composer.

when he was younger he'd brag to diluc saying "my soulmate sings so well! what does your soulmate sound like, hah!"

to which diluc would respond with

he grins, swirling his wine around the glass as he watches a stack of papers hit diluc's face while bar tending on the first floor. kaeya clinks his glass on the table, watching people enter and leave the tavern from above.

today, his soulmate sings a song he's heard of.

'the wellerman,' and judging from the pauses and missing lyrics, kaeya safely assumes his soulmate was singing a duet with someone.

"soon may the wellerman come, to bring us sugar and tea and rum!"

kaeya hums the next few notes, never singing. after hearing his soulmate sing for the first time, his thought was to never sing- not when his soulmate could be a billionaire for singing with their voice.

only on occasions he would sing to let his soulmate know he was there.

he finishes the last sip of his wine and descends down the tavern stairs, raising a hand to acknowledge rosaria drinking in the corner. he airily chuckles, seeing diluc scrunch his eyes at the papers in front of him instead of looking at kaeya.

kaeya pushes the door open, humming along to the song his soulmate sings. he strolls by the alleyways, waving a hello to flora and a couple dogs that bark at his feet, scratching behind its ears.

he hears a bard singing at the plaza and saunters towards the music, climbing up the stairs and his frame almost freezes when seeing someone acting out to the song playing in his head.

good hunter's table tips over with a person on it. they land smoothly to the ground with a grin while singing with a resident bard.

"one day when the tonguing is done, we'll take our leave and go," they sing with so much melody and soul. the bard in green rumbles with cheer, raising his hands and dancing with the other with an arm latched around another.

kaeya watches, mesmerized by the singing and clapping around the plaza. he claps along and laughs when the bard drags his friend up to the walls of the fountain, singing louder.

the makes eye contact with the singer and waves. the singer waves back, unaware of what kaeya now knows.

soulmates.

he clued the pieces together and admired his soulmate from a distance, not wanting to disturb the performance.

"she'd not been two weeks from shore, when down on her a right whale bore!" the bard sings in glee.

kaeya quietly sings the next part, blending with the crowd. the whoops and cheers grow louder, chanting for his soulmate to sing the part kaeya sand under his breath, but to his surprise his soulmate tenses.

"WAIT! stop!" they hush the crowd with a hand and confuse everyone, "my soulmate's singing! but they're a bit too quiet. they never sing so shh, this is rare!"

the people murmur, watching kaeya's soulmate covering their ears to hear him clearer. kaeya grins, taking this opportunity to sing out loud.

"soon may the wellerman come to bring us sugar and tea and rum!" kaeya waltzes in front of the people who create a pathway for him.

his soulmate's eyes snap to him and he steps up next to them, standing on the fountain. the bard grins, and cheers. the crowd follows his cheer, watching their cavalry captain sing to his soulmate.

kaeya takes his soulmate's hand and presses a kiss on the back, "hello darling, i'm kaeya."

his soulmate doesn't hear him talking, no. they hear music when he speaks. though, kaeya's introduction threw them off, who's to say they couldn't return the gesture.

"a pleasure to meet you at last," they place a hand over their forehead for drama. they grin taking kaeya's waist closer to them and whisper in his ear, "you have a marvelous voice."

mondstadt had never seen kaeya at loss for words and a blush rising his face.

thoma: you taste the same things your soulmate tastes, no matter how strange- even when you're already eating something else

for most times, you were envious of your soulmate for eating the most lavishing food- food only one with money can get. you so desperately wanted to try the food they ate.

you didn't know what they ate, but only knew of the taste. sometimes it clashes with what you eat, like one time you ate an orange while your soulmate started toothbrushing. it wasn't very pleasant to say the least.

you were minding yourself, gathering food for your dinner until you taste something horrible.

wtf is my soulmate eating

it is a vile taste on your tongue, and no amount of water can wash the taste off. you try rinsing it, you tried eating something with a stronger taste, but no matter what, the thing your soulmate ate just stays there. it's disgusting.

you buy anything sour to un-taste what you tasted, and it still doesn't work. walking nearby a tea house, you see a man of blonde, clutching his stomach and laughing at a traveler from afar. call it fate, because it probably is, you know by the second he says his stomach hurts, he is your soulmate.

you point at him with a pointed glare, "what on earth did you EAT?!"

you take a bite of a sliced purple melon in your hand and the man in front of you widens his jade eyes, noting the food you're eating and the blooming taste on his tongue. the traveler next to him knits their brows, looking between you and their friend.

"thoma," the traveler calls. "who's this?"

thoma looks at you apologetically and sheepishly rubs the nape of his neck. "hey? i did it to win a contest... i couldn't let my pride down." he pauses, looking at you, "forgive me?"

you wanted to throw a punch on him, but you knew he had it worse with a bad aftertaste and a stomach ache.

you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. and place a mischievous grin, "take me on a date with food that's actually good, and then i'll think about forgiving you."

[cinnamoodles]

hahahaha i hate myself so I have nine wips currently:

here they are!

wip one: chapter four, marigold

You were in no way enamored by him. Perhaps the many years of friendship you shared with the Viscount led your senses astray when it came to a man’s ability to charm a woman, but it was almost devastatingly clear that in that category, he had no ability. Perhaps he was interesting to talk to, but there was no future you could imagine with him, not like you would imagine with someone else. Perhaps if you escaped the country and joined a pirate crew, you could also escape whatever mess you had left your feelings in, ladylikeness be damned.

wip two: forever a priority

As if reading your mind, he smiled. “I know you were expecting your husband, but… he’s preoccupied at the moment. On the bright side, though, he’s got the fashion sense of a boiled potato, I think for your benefit, I’ll accompany you to the modiste.”

wip three: how you get the girl

You didn’t know if it was fate, perhaps, or the knot of anxiety in your stomach, eating away at your consciousness, or maybe the slow ticking of the grandfather clock in your room in your father’s house, monotonously droning on. It hadn’t ever bothered you before, but the heavy, thick droplets of rain and the concomitant thunderstorm merely accentuated the noise of the clock, pounding on your large, circular window.

wip four: insanity

It is another day. This day is no different from the last, and the day before that. This day will be no different from tomorrow. But who knows what mysteries today might hold? Whether I shall live another day? I am sorry, for whatever unfortunate circumstances you have been through to find me, and whatever remains of me. Perhaps I would have escaped here when you find me.

wip five: somewhere like this

The sun was blazing hot, no different from the other days. There seemed to be no end to the disparate hours of the day; the days were dusty and dry, while in the night, one could only huddle close to their blankets. In a town like this, some children chose to break free of the monotonous routine, soar high and escape through the glorious passage that one might call university. There were, of course, some who did not even attempt to travel down the path of academia, but they were never motivated throughout the course of their life.

wip six: love, unending

You’d met him on a warm summer’s day, when he was just beginning to master his horse riding. The breeze was cooling, but you, the hot headed, belligerent nine year old you were, couldn’t help but ask him for a race. In typical fashion for him, he challenged you that you wouldn’t even be able to stay on your horse the entire course. He was wrong, of course. He had been left in the dust, and you had ridden off, snickering.

wip seven: bananagrams

“Peel.” Her hand almost slipped off of her cheek, and she was sure her elbow was red from how long she’d been leaning on it.

“Peel,” was Val’s response. If Tiffany was in the mood, she would have pointed out that Caricaturistic was not a word.

She wasn’t in the mood.

wip eight: the mark

I wish I could be that joyful. It seemed she would be better at having the word “Joyful” than I am. School resumed the next day, as if nothing had occurred, though not very informative. They teach us, once again, about the history of our town, but mostly about why we get tattooed and why we have to stay in our place. If we don’t, the consequences are unknown, and according to my mother, nothing is more scary than the unknown.

wip nine: maelstrom

My heart seething,

My face unkept,

I could could have done anything,

But I just wept 

Abandon me, and go, be free

Forever I shall stay

Stuck under the sea.

please give me feedback on anything, (the last three are kind of old, if you want to see how my writing style has evolved), or tell me which wips you’d like to see completed! (please i’m so uninspired)

tagging: @eviesaurusrex @budugu @catastrxblues @avgvstlover @nix-rose @faye-tale @lucy-is-never-logical and open tag!

WIP tag game! Rules: Make a new post and post the latest line in your WIP & tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like).

Thanks @hotgirleracas for the tag! 🖤 I'm still working on thee intersections of desire/isolation truck!fic (kneetouchnatural at this point), Astirism of a Ford F Series Pick Up.

He jerks away reflexively, and then with the careful precision of the slowly building heat, he eases his leg back over, until his knee and Cas' knee are lined up against eachother, knocking together whenever one of them shifts. It is probably a normal amount of touching, but he doesn't have a metric.

I know y'all have played already, but I'd love to get a lil update on anything else you've got in the works! @bloodydeanwinchester @ipromiseimawriter @luckshiptoshore (I know we *just* saw yours but I wanna see it again!)

Still don't have very many writing mutuals (that I'm aware of), so if you wanna repost and tag me I would love to read what you're working on!!! 🖤♠️

[golden-wingseos]

from him, the sun - baizhu

featuring —

✧ baizhu x gn!reader

warnings ―

✧ written before baizhu's release (is he ever going to get released??)

notes ―

✧ e

synopsis ―

✧ for a seasoned adventurer like you, getting injured was a phenomenon all-too common. determined to escape from bubu pharmacy, it seems things didn't go as planned... because you were caught.

“Today, I will escape.” You thought with a determined expression, fists clenched as you peeked out the door of your confinement room.

Baizhu—the head of Bubu Pharmacy—was very used to your visits. So much so, that he had a day in the week reserved for you solely because you had managed to get injured so much.

Was it a skill? Definitely. For a high-caliber adventurer like you, getting injured so often was only a trademark of how cool you were.

Was it an opportunity to get to know the handsome-yet-mysterious owner of the Pharmacy? Yes. Though, you had made no advances.

But now! Now, you’ve had enough! Baizhu had told you to stay put in your room so you could ‘heal’ or whatever— but that’s lame!

Hearing no footsteps and seeing no people, you had concluded: Wow. They’re finally gone. Even Qiqi had remembered enough to not let you worsen your leg injury, so she was definitely off limits.

Taking a single step out into the lobby, you glanced around once more, the sharp smell of herbs stinging your nose and lungs as they seemed to pierce your dull senses.

“I’m free!” You exclaimed, speedwalking (so your leg wouldn’t act up) straight out of the pharmacy. You may not be from Mondstadt— but damn! Bless Barbatos! Let the Wind Lead!

“Is that so?”

You ignored that voice. Nope! You were most definitely free!

Of course, that was until a hand reached out— grabbing the back of your collar and refraining you from taking any more steps out and towards the light.

Holding you firmly like a dog by a collar, you didn’t bother to turn around to see who your captor was. Seriously, even though the man holding you like an animal was supposed to be ‘fragile’ and ‘frail’, there was absolutely nothing frail about him!

“Ah hah… ayeee…” Averting your eyes from his own golden ones, the kind smile on the male’s face indicated that he had already anticipated your sudden patriotic ‘escape’ before you had even thought of it.

Damn intelligent men.

“Is your leg feeling better?” Baizhu settled you lightly on the floor, side-eyeing you just in case you’d decide to make a break for it again.

“Yes, very much so. It’s so much better that I feel like I can go outside and ru—”

“Hm… it seems to still be swelling. Hold on for a moment, I’ll get you some ointment.” Not falling for your obvious lie, Baizhu began sorting through some bottles on the counter behind the reception desk, complicated names and texts scribbled across their lids.

“Here, hold still,” Gesturing for you to sit atop the desk, Baizhu began to roll the hem of your pants up, taking the ointment across his fingertips and smearing it on the swell of your shin.

“Oh, it feels better!” You exclaimed in awe, about to flail your leg around if it weren’t for the warm hand resting on your knee, signaling you to stop whatever dumb move you were about to do.

“Now, you should go back to your room. We wouldn’t want you getting more injured in futile attempts to run off into the sunset.” Smiling innocently, you swore there was a hint of cheekiness in that delicate face of his.

“Eh?” You gasped, stumbling once Baizhu ushered you back into the treatment room, your figure visibly deflating as you tried convincing the pharmacist otherwise.

“Please? Please? Can I just watch you play with your drugs or something? WHY? I don’t want to go back! It’s boring!” Whining like a toddler, Baizhu could merely sigh at your antics before abruptly stopping, pausing you alongside him.

“Okay. Just make sure not to strain yourself, alright?”

“HUH? Baizhu caring about me?! Since when?!”

“. . . I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

[❦]

It seems that fateful interaction was what led you to be sitting in the very corner of Baizhu’s herb room, watching him sort through different kinds of leaves as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

I think I’ll get intoxicated by just sitting in here, covering your nose in an attempt to shield yourself from the pungent smell of just vegetation and weird materials. It was no surprise that the ever-observant Baizhu noticed your change in posture.

“You don’t have to sit here and watch, go get some rest.” The male turned over to you, hands dusted with all shades of colors thanks to the items he was handling just earlier.

“No, it’s okay. What you’re doing looks interesting.” Overcoming the smell, you quickly stood up, shuffling over to the empty spot beside the pharmacist.

“Would you like to learn about the different kinds of remedial herbs?” He queried nonchalantly. Yet at that moment, you swore Baizhu was one of the prettiest— if not the prettiest thing you have ever seen.

His pale green hair reflected in the light like a mirror, rays of pinks and yellows appearing in his hair as if pixie dust had been sprinkled all over it. Then your eyes trailed down to his neck, which did not host the pearl white snake you had grown so accustomed to.

Strange, yet gorgeous. Baizhu was perhaps a specimen, an enigma in the galaxy that you have yet to figure out. Like Venus, all you could do was admire from afar, hoping that he’d notice you in the sea of millions.

And perhaps in this moment, he did. He gazed at you generously, fondly, even. Like a moonflower untouched by mankind, you quickly averted your eyes from that same generous gaze— worried that your heart may explode at this rate.

Maybe, Baizhu was like the sun. Untouchable and bright, a being you saw every day yet hardly knew much about you. And you— you were the sunflower. Prospering under his care and touch, this brief interaction of silent observation would certainly be one that’d remain timeless.

“... Sure.” Snapping out of your trance, you quickly turned away from him. Your ears felt hot, heart thumping in your chest so fast you were worried your rib cage couldn’t contain the organ anymore.

Feigning obliviousness to your dazed expression, Baizhu began picking up different types of herbs, listing their names so fluently you wondered if it was another language you were yet to learn.

Foreign names like chamomile and feverfew popped up, ginseng and ginger being familiar to your ears because Mr. Zhongli from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor oftentimes made tea out of such herbs. Perhaps you should thank the amber-eyed man later for being so knowledgeable in teas.

“[Name]?” The pharmacist paused, using this brief moment to look at you, “are you okay? You don’t have to listen, you can even go walk around the harbor if you want.”

The idea was tempting, like a dream turning into a reality. Yet something was pulling you back, like the Earth and the Sun. Maybe, just maybe you were Icarus. Baizhu was so close yet so far, and you only wanted to inch higher and higher, burning those wings made of wax in the process.

No. A more ideal comparison would be of the rainbow bird— or was it? You couldn’t tell. Tempting like a golden apple during a race for love, tantalizing like wafting food in front of a starving man.

But today. Today, you will take your chance.

“It’s alright. I’d rather be here with you anyways,” your voice dipped into a whisper, like a river running dry or a bird’s call being silenced mid-scream.

Was this alright? Was it alright to backpedal on an opportunity you had yearned for for so long?

You swore you caught the faintest of red tipped onto Baizhu’s ears. Yes, he was definitely still the ever-enigmatic sun you had assumed of him originally,

But now— maybe you were just a little bit closer than before, though unlike Icarus— you had already fallen long before the sun could burn your wings.

[writewithmarites]

Irresistible Offers

Marites’ Ship for this Gossip: Shouta Aizawa x Reader

Heed Marites’ Warnings; Read on your own risk: FWB fic (kinda?), Angst, Hurt/Comfort(?), Aizawa's an idiot, Drunk Car Smex, Manhandling, Hair Pulling, Marking, Crying (Sexually and Implied Non-sexually)

Marites' Notes: My piece for @httptamaki's Shuffle Collab

Thank you @alani-r and @confusedvagabonduniverse for the help 😘

Recommended Songs: Play With Me by Rendezvous At Two

Heather by Conan Gray

Gossip with Marites: @slutbench @roanniee @lovemeian @ninjamomo @httptamaki @pumpkin-pi-e @saudade-mayari

Word Count: 1.1k

Warm. A different kind of comfort. It’s still not the sensation you’re looking for- no, longing for. But you can’t. You can’t seek him…

It’s replaying again. Your mind seemingly eager to always oppose you. Torn as it plays the tape that causes you misery. It all seemed freshed yet so far away from your present.

And now you wonder… you wonder how she feels when the hand of the man you’ve grown to care for is in the small of her back as they stroll around the mall. How it feels to have those fingers of his swipe off the bit of ice cream at the side of her lips as they conclude their date with a desert. Those very same fingers that caress your cheeks after every session. His mouth that would kiss her cheek after their date… that very same mouth that could shower you in praise but can also drag you down as he whispers ‘I love how you’re such a slut for me’.

A spur-in-the-moment arrangement was what you could call it. First night of spring break with an overly enthusiastic group of friends leading to dozens of cheap booze in an eccentric individual’s apartment.

Your “you-only-live-once” would be the death of you. Figuratively and literally.

Not taking what might blossom from a supposedly “one-night stand” with a certain dark-haired colleague led to your first miscalculation of the semester.

But what can you do when it’s been months of teetering over the edge of each other’s wanting gazes. Weeks of innocent touches and fleeting acknowledgements that seemed to burn in both of your minds, longer than it should be.

A rushed arrangement. All because you ache to be filled by him, entering you gradually as he pushes the boundaries of your core. You long for his hands that leave deliciously red marks all over your body. You loved the way he manhandled you into position and can still be a gentle lover.

And now you hated it all.

You hated how he made you feel warm as he took care of you after every act. You hated how he kissed your forehead while he wrapped his arms around your waist, scooping you from behind. You hated how he made you smile as he nuzzled into your neck, whispering words of praises, leaving trails of kisses before his sigh of content followed his gentle snoring.

You hated how he made you think you had a chance.

And here you are heart beating agonizingly slow, as the poison of it breaking pumps throughout your system. You cry into the comfort you can only afford. To the arms of your best friends.

“C’mon, sweetie… it’s been months you gotta’ move on n’ show him you’re not affected.”

It didn’t matter. All you knew was one second you’re sitting atop the bar counter hanging out with Keigo, Touya, and the others while Nemuri shoves her infamous cocktail, distasteful as it may be it’s very effective in making you drunk, and now you’re feeling hot all over as you sit atop the lap of the man that Nemuri and Hizashi has been trying to set you up with all semester.

The motions of limbs tangled with soft fabric, eager to explore each others’ skin that burns with lust, glistening with moisture as lips that smelt of alcohol mark and leave the other tainted. In control of your fate for the night, Shouta skillfully manipulates your body into positions that fit the limited space of Hizashi’s car; and in the backseat he handles you roughly, hefty fingers gripping the roots of your hair while he teases you into tears as he pumps into your warm and welcoming cunt with long-drawn heavy thrusts.

The car rocks together with your body as he did with your whole being. Every skin he could reach was kissed with passion. Every whisper of his unexpectedly sinful tongue made you clench and moan around his thick girth, his deep baritones following in quick successions. Your intermingling breaths and lecherous melodies fogging up the windows.

He swallows your pleasure-filled shrieks as he pushes you deep into climax. Your arms tightly wrapped around him as you desperately anchor yourself from the otherworldly peak that you’ve experienced. An experience that prolongs as Shouta pumps himself to completion. And in that moment you found it cute that he nuzzles to the side of your neck, giving you gentle kisses before he settles with snuggling your flushed skin. His eyes that you knew flashed with a feeling of contentment stared into your own that was filled with euphoria.

And maybe the words that left him that very first day is one of the many reasons why you can’t forget him. Why you continue to seek his presence that brings you a sense of warmth and security; and by the time you two kissed lovingly, as if a couple making love, you knew you were both sober, “I’ve longed for you.”

Strolling down the halls with the aftereffects of a headache it wasn’t unexpected for her energy-filled easygoing best friend, Keigo to deduct what had happened- with the purples littering her skin it was quite obvious. Passing through the main hall it quickly settled between the two of you, as you maintained eye contact for longer than what two supposed colleagues should when passing by each other on campus, that one-night was simply not good enough.

And as you lay wrapped in comforting warmth, arms that made you feel surrounded in a protective embrace, his head nuzzling beside your neck as he spoons your figure to his, mouth muffled slightly as he whispers praise and promises. You both knew by that time that three full months wasn’t enough.

So why? Why was it Emi who gets to stroll around with him, mocking you as your gaze falls in the connection of their hands.

Sober. After that first night all your encounters were sober. But now standing outside the cafeteria where you used to share strawberry shortcakes and indulge yourself with your favorite beverages, talking casually as Shouta listens, why does it feel like he’s drunk all along? Why does it feel like his words were a mere bait as he lulls you into his den, filling you to the brim with a presence that once comforted you, patiently waiting to strike you with flails covered in heartbreak-inducing poison.

+++

In control. Always. A logic-driven person was what he was supposed to be. So what happened? Why was he such a coward? Why does he push his chance of love and happiness away? Why was he such a jerk?

Don’t repost without my express permission. Reblogs and comments are appreciated <3 copyright © writewithmarites

[celestial-fucking-weeb]

Going... Gone.

Hi guys! This is part of the Citrus Server’s “Auction Collab”, go see the full masterlist HERE!

This fic gets a little darker than my other ones, as you can probably tell from the entire Warnings section, but I promise there’s some sickly sweet (though a little backwards) fluff in there. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS, THIS IS NOT INTENDED FOR PEOPLE WHO DO NOT WANT TO READ DARK FICS!!!!! 

Art by rorokonaa! You can find their shop here. :)

Sero Hanta x fem!reader

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI, yandere behavior, mind break, Stockholm syndrome, auction/trafficking, rough sex, unprotected sex, anal play, pet play, bondage, forced orgasms, overstimulation, ownership kink, dubcon/noncon (aphrodisiac), BDSM/kink terms

____________________________________________________________

How did I get here? What are they saying? Why do I feel so… so… hot? You knew you were kidnapped by the League of Villains, you recognized the faces of Shigaraki and Dabi from the news. You knew you were blindfolded. What you didn’t know was why your entire body felt hot and slow, like you were floating underwater, with a fire in your belly. Why did it sound like people were talking in turns? What are they saying? It isn’t until a hand wraps around your arm, yanks you up, and leads you roughly with a hand on your lower back that you realize you’re stark naked and being led onto a stage… 

“This one’s new- unbroken. She put up quite the fight trying to get her here, but that aphrodisiac has her all strung out and ready now. Doesn’t it?” Your blindfold is ripped off and Dabi’s hand grips your jaw. “So why don’t we start the bidding at 50,000,000¥?” 

Voices of various men calling out higher and higher numbers has you shaking- holy shit… no… it’s not… an auction?! No, no, no… “Awww look at that- look how pretty she looks when she’s scared! Ain’t she just the best when she’s fucking terrified?” Even in your fear-stricken state, you can’t help but grind on the boot he shoves between your thighs. Dabi is smirking condescendingly at your whimpering form, but his words aren’t for you in the slightest. 

Looking out into the crowd, you see mostly villains, CEOs, wealthy men and women, but then you see them… A scattering of heroes throughout the place. Oh thank god, they have a sting or something in place, they’ll save me!!! Tears of hope start rolling down your cheeks, so grateful to think that maybe you’ll be saved. 

“330,000,000¥.” A low voice bellows over the others, silencing them all. You look into the crowd and find the one man with a number card in the air. Tall, dark hair, lean and muscular, a confident triangular smirk gracing his chiseled face. You think you recognize his face, you know he’s a hero, you just can’t remember his name… 

“Going… going… gone. SOLD! Come get your pet off my fucking boot, she’s dripping all over the stage.” Dabi turns to you, choking you and turning your head towards the man striding towards the stage. “Say hello to your new Master, princess. He owns your ass now.” He growls in your ear, the tone of his voice making your pussy clench around nothing and more tears blur your vision. The hero hands Dabi a duffel bag- one you assume is full of money- and collects you. He’s so gentle, scooping you up in his arms with little regard for your weight. Once out of earshot, he whispers to you, “Hey, shhh- it’s okay. I’m your hero now. I’m gonna take you home.”  

“Are- are you here to save me?” You asked softly, clinging to the collar of his unbuttoned shirt. 

“Mhmm, of course I am, little one. Think of all the horrible things those people could have done to you, you could’ve been tortured or killed or worse. You’re lucky I was here to save you, huh?” He smirks down at you when your fearful form curls into him, tucking your face into his clavicle. He thinks you’re just being adorable, so grateful and shy, until he feels your cute little lips close around the skin of his collarbone and suck lightly while you whimper against him. Oh- forgot they dosed you with whatever aphrodisiac they use to keep you needy and compliant. He lets you know he’s aware of your ministrations with a deep rumble in his chest. He subtly adjusts you in his hold, leaving his forearm pressed against your drooling cunt just enough to give you satiating pressure, but not enough to satisfy you without his help. The teasing lilt in his concerned voice is lost on you when he mumbles “Do you need anything? What’s wrong? You’re burning up…” 

“I-it hurts… Please help me, it hurts!!” 

He tries to contain his smile at your pleas, but it's so hard when you’re pressing closer and closer to him, like you need only him. You don’t know it yet, but that’s right; you only ever need him. “I’ll take you somewhere to help, I promise. For now, why don’t you sit on my lap for the drive. Kiri here can drive while I make sure you’re okay.” He nods towards his red-haired friend, who you know as Red Riot: the hardening hero. Red Riot smacks your hero on the shoulder and adds “Of course, man! Anything for Cellophane, isn’t that right, angel~?”, sending you a wink. CELLOPHANE! You knew you recognized him!! Immediately, feeling safe with two pro-heroes, you seem content to be placed on Cellophane’s lap in the back seat, straddling his thigh, as Red Riot slides into the driver’s seat and starts toward what you assume is their agency. 

“Thank you, Cellophane, sir… I’m… I’m sorry, I don’t know where my clothes are...” You mutter against his neck, trying and failing to control the fire in your belly when you feel his hard length against you and hoping he doesn’t notice the way your face blushes and your slick starts to wet his slacks. So naÏve, so trusting… She’s so perfect. She needs me to protect her, she could never do anything by herself. He thinks to himself. 

“It’s okay, little one. You don’t have to be embarrassed, you’re perfect. Such a cutie, aren’t ya?” He coos, pinching your chubby cheek and smoothing his other hand down your naked back. “I’m Sero Hanta, by the way. It feels a little weird calling me by my hero name when you’re in my lap, doesn’t it?” 

“Um… A little…” Your giggle turns into a moan as Kiri drives over a bump a bit too hard, causing you to bounce on Sero’s thigh. You grip his shirt before looking up into his dark eyes and studying his face. “Sero… It really hurts…” 

Luckily, Hanta seems to know exactly what’s happening to your poor little body and presses his thigh further into you and holds your hips, grinding you on him and leaning in close. 

“I know, baby, I know. Here, does this feel a little better? You can cum on my thigh, it’s alright. Just relax and let me help you, little one.” You flush with embarrassment at the idea of climaxing on a pro-hero’s lap, one who just saved you, but you don’t have a choice once the humiliation reaches your needy sex. You can’t even hump his thigh by yourself anymore, relying solely on him to coax you through your orgasm- a thought he truly appreciates, loving the helpless way you whine with your face pressed into his throat while he massages your plump hips and thighs to help you ride out your pleasure. Your climax all but knocks you out, the intensity of the drug overpowering you, but not before your dumb, fucked-out brain recalls a name and makes you utter a phrase that seals your fate before you slip into unconsciousness…

“Thank you, Master~...” 

__________________________________________________________________

You come to laying on a giant pink bed, the comfiest you’d ever been on. Stuffies lined the edges, a sheer white canopy surrounding the headboard. You’re dazed and lost, not remembering how you got here, where you were, or how you’d been bathed, dressed, and completely taken care of. In your groggy confusion, you failed to notice Sero casually waiting for you, watching you from a large chair in the corner of the room. 

“Good morning, babygirl! I’m so happy you’re awake, I was getting really worried about you! How are you feeling?” He spoke so softly, it reminded you of how your father used to talk to you when you were little… Comforting, caring, protective. 

“H-Hi… Where am I? Is this the agency? When did we get here? How long has it been? I need to go home!” The panic in your voice develops the more questions you ask. 

“Aw angel- you are home! This is your room, see?” He stands and gestures to the room as he approaches your bed and leans down to lay his palm on your cheek. 

You flinch at the contact, an action that breaks his heart. “But- wait… Did-... Did you dress me? These aren’t mine… I didn’t have these when you rescued me…” The realization slowly seeps into the back of your mind: maybe he didn’t save you like you thought… 

“You looked so happy there, I didn’t want to wake you! But I thought you’d be more comfortable if you were all clean and had those cute little jammies on, yeah? Don’t you like them?” He’s trying his best to be happy and cheerful for you, to not show you how disheartened he is at your line of questions. He doesn’t want to scare you; at least, not yet. 

“Um… Y-yeah, they’re… nice… But I really have to go home, I need you to take me home, now!” You try to sound as confident as your small voice can muster, trying to be commanding and serious while yanking his wrist away from your face. 

Wrong answer.

Sero’s temper got the best of him at your disobedience, ripping your hand from his arm and slapping you across the face before you could even think to react. “What the fuck did I just say, pet? This. Is. Your. Home. Got that?” He seethed. He grabbed your face in one hand, fingers and thumb digging into your teeth through your cheeks. “I said I’m your hero, why would you make me be mean to you? Aren’t you grateful that I took you away from those horrible people? I don’t want to be nasty to my sweet little girl, but you need to be good for me, okay?” 

“FUCK YOU!” You spat in his face before pulling out of his grasp and running for the doorway. You missed the darkness in his eyes and the almost bored expression as his tape wrapped around your waist, throat, and thighs, sending you screaming onto the floor to futilely thrash around. 

“How fucking adorable… You look so pathetic, like a cat tangled up in their yarn. I think I’ll call you “kitten”, would you like that? Of course you would… A bratty little kitty.” He pulls you to him as you squirm, but your efforts are useless- just tiring yourself out. “You know what happens to bad kitties, don’t you? They get punished.” 

With his final statement, he shoves his hand into your cotton sleep shorts, finding you soaked and ready for him. You whine out for him to stop, but his drenched fingers are promptly shoved into your mouth. “Oh SHUT. UP. You act like you have a say in your fucking punishment, you don’t. I think it’s time to show you the ‘playroom’, brat.” With that, he tosses you over his shoulder and spanks your ass, leaving a bright red handprint as he carries you out of the room. 

You’re dropped harshly on the concrete floor, his tape retracting and rewrapping to keep your wrists bound. “Now, now, kitten.” He growls with a disgusted inflection, “I think if you’re going to act like a brat, even though I can feel how wet you are for me, you should look the part, don’t you?” He walks to the wall behind you, selecting his punishments of choice before returning to you and yanking you to the floor, face down-ass up. “I think a cute little tail is fitting, yeah?” He asks no one in particular as he spits onto your presented ass. You start to squirm away before freezing at the sudden intrusion of a buttplug. “Oh, I’m sorry- is this the first time anything’s ever been in here before? Since you wanted to act like such a bad girl, I figured you’d been a little whore, too. Look at how wet you are, dripping just from me degrading you? Fucking disgusting.” he adds, swiping two battle-calloused fingers across your clit, making you clench around nothing. 

You whine as tears slip down your face, holding back your sobs at being violated like this. Just as you think you’d adjusted to the new stretch of the plug, Sero’s cock lines up to your entrance and he buries himself to the hilt in your tight pussy. Your scream of pleasurable pain is cut off by his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing the sides to cut off your blood flow and pulling you up to lean back against his naked chest. His other hand snakes down your body, pinching harshly at your nipples, leaving bruising finger prints on your hips and finally landing on your throbbing clit. “You’re gonna cum around my cock until all you can think about is how you fucking belong to me. I’m going to fuck you into submission and you’re going to fucking love it. Yeahhh~ that’s right, I can feel you clamping down around me, you like the idea of being mine, huh?”

“Please, please, NO! I don’t wanna cum, I can’t!! Please no no no-” You’re begging him to stop, to let you go, to stop abusing your poor little holes. As soon as his grip abandons your throat in favor of pulling on the tail plug and bruising your ass with full-force spanks, you climax so hard you swore you blacked out. That’s when you feel it; that sweet headspace that only comes from being broken. You can practically hear an audible crack as your mind shatters, leaving you to float off into blissful submission. Your protests turn into whines, which morph into whimpers, which transformed into breathless pleas as you turned your head to him. He senses your shift in demeanor, hears your breathy moans and turns to meet your gaze. Upon seeing your glassy eyes, dumb little brain so deep into subspace you’d forget your own name, his cock twitches inside of you and a content smile creeps onto his face. His pace slows, but his thrusts never lose the bruising, bodyweight-backed force behind them. The hand on your hip moves to the pouch of your belly, moaning at the feeling of his cock under his hand, poking into your tummy. He releases your plug and moves to pinch your clit between two fingers, overstimulating you and causing you to buck your hips away from his hand, sending you back onto his cock. “Awww~ there’s my good babygirl. You just needed Master to tame you, didn’t you? Acting out because you needed Master to wreck this cute little cunny, hm? That’s it, cum on my cock again, take the rest of your punishment and tell me who you belong to.”

“M-Master~!!! Please, yes, I’ll be so good for you! I promise!! It’s too much, please- too sensitive…” You’re begging so pretty for him, how could he not want to watch you fall apart for him over and over again? Sero finishes with his dick pressed against your womb at your words, but he’s not done with you yet. He pulls orgasm after orgasm from your trembling body, you lost count after 5. The tears and drool have run down your chin, adding to the slick pouring out of your sore cunt and making it all the more easy for Sero to fuck his cum into you once again. “Tell me you love me, kitten. Tell me who you belong to.”

“Fuuuuuck~ please! I love you, I love you, I love you!!! I’m yours, I wanna be your good girl! Please, Daddyyy!” You’re full on sobbing now, trying to please him and not even realizing the name falling from your lips as you crane your neck to pepper desperate kisses on his cheek and jaw. 

“That’s my little angel. I know you have one more for me, cum one more time for Daddy and I’ll take care of you.” His fingers press hard onto your clit and he bites down on your neck, sending you both into an earth-shattering climax. You lose yourself in his touch, squirting all over his hand and the floor below you as his seed floods your walls and warms your insides. 

After coming down from your highs, Sero releases you from his tape and gently removes the plug. He pulls out of you to carefully lift you up and take you into your room, but you cling to him so fearfully, he has to cup your face to pull your face to his. “Hey, hey… What’s wrong, little one? Use your words. What do you need?”

“N-not ready to be empty yet… Please don’t leave me, Daddy! I promise I’ll be good, please don’t leave! I don’t wanna be empty…” You hiccup between sobs, the far-off look in your eyes fading just slightly as the need for intimacy clouds your features.

Sero’s heart practically shatters, kissing your tears away and adjusting you in his arms, easing himself back into your puffy hole and pressing your head into the crook of his neck. You curl into him, whimpers quieting down at the skin contact and the twisted comfort you found in his dominance. 

“I’m sorry I had to do that, little one. You know I don’t like hurting you. I just want to take care of you, you can’t do it by yourself…” His disappointed tone makes you nauseous, but not for the reason you thought it would. You should be disgusted by the situation, by being held hostage after being kidnapped, bought, and paid for. Instead, you felt a horrid pang of guilt at disappointing him, making him go through all this trouble for your ungrateful ass to try to leave him. Why do I feel so bad? HE BOUGHT ME… But… He did take care of me…. And he did help me when I was drugged… I owe him, and now he’s upset. I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings…

“I’m sorry, Daddy… I didn’t mean to… I promise I���ll be good, I’ll be your good girl!” You nuzzle closer to him, hoping he can’t hear the lump in your throat as clear as you can. The tears in your eyes burned, and Sero’s face immediately softened. “Aw, poor baby… I know you didn’t mean it, you just need to understand that Daddy knows what’s best. I know you’re a good girl, little one. I just need you to be my good little angel, not a bad kitten, okay? That’s all.”

“Yes, Master… I promise…” 

“Oh no, babygirl. You only call me Master during punishments or playtime, okay? You can just call me Daddy, alright? You seem to like that better when you’re all cute like this, don’t you? And I’ll call you ‘kitten’ when you need to be put in your place again, but only then, okay?” He whispers, laying back on your bed with you in his arms.

“Okay, Daddy! Can you sleep here with me…? Please?” Your eyes start to close, drifting off from the exhaustion. 

“Of course, babygirl. I’ll stay here as long as you want.” He grins into your hair and places a sweet kiss on your forehead.

Maybe you really do love him. Your hero…

[teamhook]

Ser-en-dip-i-ty :: Serendipity Movie CS AU

Hello!! The struggle is real but I made a deal with @hookedonapirate. She knows what I’m talking about.

I want to thank my lovely beta @ultraluckycatnd and my lovely enabler dream team @karlyfr13s  @veryverynotgood @apiratewhopines @hookedonapirate @batana54 and all the lovely ladies on the CSMM Discord for their support. 

//AO3//://FFN//

A/N: Ser·en·dip·i·ty

The occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.

A chance meeting thousands of days ago led to a magical night between two strangers the universe insisted on bringing together. Could fate finally reunite them?

Five days before Christmas...

New York...

Bloomingdales...

Cashmere gloves are hanging from a hook. White, red, beige, and just appended by the sales clerk, one single pair of black gloves are added to the display.

Two different hands grab a glove each and pull. They find the other glove is attached to someone else.

The man asked, "I'm sorry lass, did you want these?"

The woman sighed. "Damn, it's the last pair."

The sales clerk walked by and they gained her attention to ask if they had more of the black gloves on display. The salesperson confirmed that they didn't have any more in the back.

They put the gloves back while they decided what to do.

A grumpy man grabbed them and the woman stopped him.

"Sir, we were discussing those!" The woman said.

"You two can discuss them all you want, but I will be the one paying for them."

"Sir, with all due respect. The lass and I were discussing what a perfect gift those gloves would be for -my girlfriend."

"-my boyfriend." The woman said at the same time as her partner in crime.

The old grumpy man stared at them with a scowl. "Are you saying that these gloves are for both your boyfriend and his girlfriend?"

The woman smiled sweetly. "Yes, right now he is my boyfriend but after the surgery..."

The younger man scratched behind his ear. "Aye, after the surgery she will be my girlfriend."

The grouchy man didn't believe them for a second and muttered that he had no time to argue and bid them Merry Christmas before moving on.

The pair laughed as the man left.

"Lass, you were bloody amazing!" he said in awe.

"Come on, you were right there with me. Let's just call it a team effort," she said with a smile.

"I don't mean to upset you, but I think we make quite the team."

She snorted.

He paid for the gloves and handed them to her.

"Well, I think it's only fair if I buy you a drink then," she said.

They ended up at Serendipity. The chocolate there was to die for and it was her favorite place.

"Tell me lass, how did you find this place?" he asked while drinking a blended coffee.

She moaned as she took a sip of her hot chocolate. "My mom. She loves this place."

"Oh, serendipity is one of my favorite words," he said smiling.

"Why is that?" the woman asked curiously.

"It's such a lovely word for what it means. A fortunate accident," he clarified.

"Oh, it does have a nice ring to it," she said.

"Except I don't believe in accidents. I think fate is behind everything," he replied.

"Wait, so if fate is behind everything, that would include the one pair of gloves?" she asked.

"That is my belief."

She shook her head. "Everything Is predestined and we don't have any choice? I don't know how I feel about not having control of my destiny," she said.

"Not exactly. I think we make our own decisions. I just believe fate sends us signs and it's how we read them that decides if we are happy or not."

"Little signals," she said hesitantly.

"Aye, fortunate accidents," he stated.

"Perhaps I should get going. Now I have to go find something

for my girlfriend," he said hesitantly.

She grimaced. "Oh, they were for your girlfriend. I'm sorry, are you sure you don't want them?"

"No, it's alright. I will find something. I do confess I have no regrets. Those gloves were lucky. I got to enjoy your company," he said with a smile.

"Thank you, good company is hard to find these days. I guess it's time to go," she replied.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you from meeting your boyfriend," he said.

"Oh no. I'm sure he is out doing the same thing you are," she said.

"Ohh, is he becoming smitten with someone else's lady love?"

he said with a raised eyebrow.

"No, he is buying a Christmas gift," she said with a light blush on her cheeks. "So what do you want for Christmas?" she asked to shift attention to him.

"I would love some golf clubs. I really enjoy the game," he said with a dreamy smile.

She paid the bill and they walked out of Serendipity. They both wanted to continue their night together, but it was obvious the timing was wrong since they both had somebody.

The woman smiled shyly at him and his hand went to scratch just behind his ear.

"Do you think exchanging names makes us horrible people?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said thoughtfully.

"Well, my name is Emma. Does that make you want to tell me something?" Emma said smiling.

"Merry Christmas, Emma," he said smiling. "It was a pleasure meeting you today, but it's not our time. It would be bad form to ignore the signs," he said as he signaled a cab.

Emma stared as he got inside the cab and disappeared.

Emma was disappointed, but she did have a boyfriend and what was she thinking? She had been so lost in the magic of the meeting. She couldn't shake the feeling that he was special. She was riding the train to go home and then noticed she didn't have the Bloomingdale's bag. She must have left it at Serendipity. She groaned and made her way back.

She asked the host if it was turned in and he said no, but that she could go check the table.

She arrived at the table and she was lucky to find the store bag underneath the table.

She sighed in relief.

Someone cleared their throat.

She looked up to find dazzling blue eyes. The same ones she had been staring at for hours.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" she asked while picking up a black pashmina.

"I forgot my scarf," he said, pointing at her hands.

"Oh!" Emma said as she walked towards him and wrapped it around his neck.

His breath hitched at her proximity.

"We keep meeting," Emma said with a smile.

"Aye, it appears we do."

"Maybe we should do something?"

"Alright, what do you want to do?" he asked.

They end up ice skating.

Emma gracefully skated around him, giggling at his hesitant movements.

"So I need to know, are you here to marry someone for a green card?"

He laughed loudly. "No, lass. Did the accent give me away as a foreigner?"

"Okay, what do you miss the most about home?" she asked.

"That is easy, my brother."

"I'm sure he misses you, too. I would miss you," she said, smiling when she noticed the tip of his ears reddening.

"It's my turn to ask a question. What is your favorite movie?" he asked, shaking off the moment.

Emma stopped for a second. "That is an easy one. The Princess Bride." She shrugged. "What about you?"

"The Pirates of Penzance. It appears we have the love of pirates in common," he said.

"Yes, it does. Okay my turn, favorite New York moment?" Emma asked.

He pondered his answer for a minute. "This one is sailing to the number one spot."

She grinned and then she bit her bottom lip. "What is your favorite sex position?" she asked while raising her eyebrows.

He growled at her. "You are being very cheeky, lass."

She laughed, lost her balance, and promptly fell down.

"Lass, are you alright?" he asked as he helped her to her feet. He inspected her for any damage.

"I'm okay," she grumbled.

He gently grabbed her hand and noticed a deep slash.

"Oww!" she winced.

"Let's look at this." He guided her to the bench and sat down. He inspected the cut carefully. He reached into his coat pocket and took out a flask.

"What the hell is that?" Emma asked as he poured it on her injured hand.

"Rum," he said as he took his scarf and wrapped it around her hand slowly while staring deeply into her eyes.

Emma sighed.

He grinned and with difficulty turned his eyes away to inspect his handy work. He traced some freckles on her arm.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's just that your freckles resemble the constellation Cygnus. Did you know Cygnus is associated with the myth of Zeus and Leda in Greek mythology? Its neighboring constellations are Draco and Pegasus, among others. Sorry, lass, I fail to recall all of them at the moment."

Emma was distracted by his soothing voice and how warm his fingers felt on her arm while he traced the freckles.

He cleared his throat. "Lass, perhaps exchanging contact information would be acceptable?" he asked, hoping she would agree.

She wasn't the type of girl to give a guy her information while dating another, but there was nothing wrong with making a new friend.

"Okay, can I borrow your phone?" she asked.

He patted his pockets and shook his head. "I must have left mine at home charging. I'm sorry, but I can enter my details in yours."

She smiled and searched for it in her bag but came up empty. "Damn it. I don't have my phone either. I hope you don't mind if we exchange information old school." She wrote down her name and phone number on a piece of paper and a gust of wind blew it away.

He huffed his disappointment and said, "Perhaps it was fate telling us to back off."

"I don't believe in fate. I can write it on something else," she said when she noticed his face.

He smiled. "I have an idea." He took out a five-dollar bill. "Write down your name and phone number."

She did as he told her and once she was finished, she handed the five dollar bill to him.

"Thank you, my lady," he said and walked across the street to a vendor's cart.

She eyed him curiously. He was so oddly refreshing.

He purchased some gum with the money and turned to wink at her as he walked away.

She jumped into action and walked after him. "Hey! What was that? I thought we were exchanging information."

"Lass, the signs point out it's not the right time, but when it is, you will hear my voice and then you will believe in fate."

She rolled her eyes. "You don't have an incredible night with a perfect stranger and leave it to chance? But what about me? Shouldn't I get the same opportunity to find something with your details? It would be the fair thing."

"You are right," he said as he found a table filled with books for sale. His eyes brightened when he found the perfect one and picked it up. "See this copy of JM Barrie's Peter Pan? I will write down my name and phone number and sell it to a used book store tomorrow. You will have to go in the stores and check to see if it's there."

The truth was that he wanted to ignore the signs. He smiled at Emma and pulled her inside the hotel they were in front of. "Lass, don't worry. I'm always a gentleman." He guides her to stand in front of the elevator, and he goes to the opposite side. "When the door opens you walk inside, and once the elevator door closes you need to press a floor number. Just don't think about it. Trust your instinct. If we pick the same floor, that means this is our time. If not, I will do as we planned with the book." Just as he finished his instructions, the elevator door started to close. "My name is Killian. Have a little faith in destiny."

Without thinking, Emma threw one of her gloves at him. The elevator closed, and Emma stared at the buttons. She took a breath and pushed the number 24 button while holding the bag close to her heart.

Killian pushed floor number 24 with a hopeful smile.

Emma rolled her eyes at the man's antics. No his name is Killian. Her elevator door opened and a man and small child entered. Her heart dropped as she saw the little kid press a lot of buttons at the same time. She still had hope that he would still be there, but once she makes it to the floor, Killian is nowhere in sight.

Killian had waited longer than he expected, but Emma never arrived. So he would wait to find her.

@allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @andiirivera @anothersworld @apiratewhopines @artistic-writer @batana54 @beckettj @bethacaciakay @bixisarusher @branlovestowrite @brooke-to-broch @captainodonoghue @carpedzem @chasedancer17 @cocohook38 @courtorderedcake @darkcolinodonorgasm @deckerstarblanche @demisexualemmaswan @djlbg @donteattheappleshook @dovelyheart @elizabeethan @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @holdingoutforapiratehero @hollyethecurious @hookedonapirate @hookedonaswanprincess @hookedonhiddles @ilovemesomekillianjones @imlaxdris71 @itsfabianadocarmo  @jarienn972 @jennjenn615 @jonesfandomfanatic @jrob64 @justanother-unluckysoul @k-leemac @karlyfr13s @kday426 @killian-will-do @klynn-stormz  @kmomof4 @kwistowee @kymbersmith-90 @laschatzi @lassluna @let-it-raines @lfh1226-linda @lonelyspectator12 @mariakov81 @motherkatereloyshipper @officerrogers @ohmakemeahercules @onceratheart18 @pirateherokillian @purplehawkcaptain @queen-serena88 @resident-of-storybrooke @revanmeetra87 @rumdrum91 @sailtoafarawayland @sals86 @scientificapricot @scribomaniac @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @shardminds @shireness-says @snowbellewells @sotangledupinit @spacekrulesbians @spartanguard @stahlop @superchocovian @swanslieutenant @tehgreeneyes @the-darkdragonfly @thejollyroger-writer @thepirateandhisson @therealstartraveller776 @thislassishooked @thisonesatellite @tiganasummertree @tomeandflickcorner​ @ultraluckycatnd @veryverynotgoodwrites @wefoundloveunderthelight @wellhellotragic @whimsicallyenchantedrose @winterbaby89 @winterbythesea @xarandomdreamx @xemmaloveskillianx @xsajx @zaharadessert @myfearless-love @cosette141

[buckysgoldenheart]

Angel in the Dark pt. 2

Demon!August Walker x Reader

Summary: After a one-night stand, or what you thought would be one, a demon drags you to his world and forces you to grow wings like he has so you would have to stay with him, unable to permanently return to Earth.

Notes: For those who asked for another part...I hope it lives up to any expectations. More parts to come now that i've fallen down this dark hole. Sorry it’s short.

Warnings: i'm sure there's cursing somewhere. Future smut. Oh, smut in this too. I forgot. Kind of captive-ish. idk. Sorry if I missed any. Oh, maybe a little emotional abuse? That's a pretty strong word for it though.

Words: 1364

Part 1

Part 2

He moaned so sweetly for such a massive man, as he slowly moved in and out of you, stretching, filling; his lips grazing across one cheek before nudging his nose against yours and kissing the opposite cheek. You’d tried to thrust your hips up harder to get him to fuck you faster, but all he’d done in response was place a giant hand on your hipbone to hold you in place so he could continue at the pace he preferred.

It was not a pace you were used to, and certainly not one you expected, but you hadn’t hated it. Eventually you succumbed to it, thrived in it, and when you managed to flip him over and sink all the way down his cock, you kept it slow. You’d liked to have thought his hands on your waist kept you from increasing speed, but they just rested on top of your skin, caressing, occasionally moving to your ass and squeezing or to your breast. Your movements were all your own.

“Beautiful,” he had whispered, eyes locked with yours. “Absolutely—”

You shot up at the sound of knocking on the door, instantly groaning at the ache of your healing back then rubbed at your sleepy eyes. There was more to be healed around where the wings had burst through your skin, but it was getting better, and you were finally getting used to the extra weight of them. 

He knocked again. Why he bothered to knock, you didn’t know. He certainly hadn’t bothered to ask you before he invaded your body with that poison, or whatever it was; neither did he when he took you from your world and brought you here.

Even though you didn’t answer, he eased the door open, which felt a little more in character. He’d have come in whether you wanted him to or not. You should’ve locked it, but then again, it’s not like that would’ve kept him out, not with his strength.

August held a small tray in his hands, covered with an assortment of foods that looked as if they were from Earth, but you could never really be sure. Just as you could never be sure if the view out your window was real, or if even he was real. There could be a monster under that beautiful mask, more physical than how you’d accused him before. His skin could be of an inhuman color, bones twisted and mangled, teeth razor sharp, with eyes black as pits. You hoped that wasn’t what you had let inside of your body nearly two weeks ago. You weren’t sure how you would stomach it.

The foods ranged from fat, green grapes to thin apple slices with cubes of cheese, to perfectly round plums and olives. All foods which you enjoyed…coincidentally; you hoped anyway. You were sick of the hints that he had more information on you than he had led you to believe.

You remembered the stories you read as a child about the Gods and Goddesses. The tale of Hades and Persephone always stuck in your mind. Some retellings had the young girl falling in love with her captor, choosing, by her own free will, to eat the food of his world in order to stay there with him. Maybe the food of this world wouldn’t condemn you to the same fate, but you weren’t about to risk it, stomach rumbling or not.  

“You need to eat,” He said as he sat the tray on the table beside your bed. “You haven’t in days, and you need to keep up your strength.”

You crossed your arms like a petulant child. “Not hungry,” You mumbled.

With a gentle smirk he said, “Yes you are, you little liar. I heard your stomach groaning from down the hall.” Then he nudged the tray a little closer. “So eat.”

“I have no intention to indulge in anything you have to give.”

“Well, you should get over it. You need food just as much now as you did before. You may not die, but you could be bedridden, a hollow husk, skin and bones. And not to say you wouldn’t still be beautiful, but I prefer you a little more—” His eyes dragged up and down your form “—plump, than that.

A wave of nausea rolled through you. You didn’t want to be anything he preferred ever again. “Don’t come in here and bring me food like you’re trying to play house.” He snorted but you continued. “I’m not your girlfriend. I’m not your wife. I’m not your toy. You brought me here for no good reason. You forced me through unimaginable pain. You ruined me!”

His face contorted harshly by the end of your words, eyebrows dipping in the center and corners of his mouth tipping down. “You think I wanted you to hurt!?” He shouted, and it shook the walls, actually shook them. A picture fell from its hook and smashed to the ground, scattering glass all over the marble flooring. “You think I don’t remember my own pain from the process? I hated hearing your screams! I wish I could’ve taken it all away, but it wasn’t possible!”

You stood from the bed then, shoving hard at his chest, but he didn’t stumble. “You could have left me alone!” You hit a fist against a boulder of a shoulder. “I’m not meant to be here! I don’t belong! I am human!”

He grabbed your hands and held them down, then pushed you until the backs of your knees hit the mattress and you had no choice but to sit, your wings spreading to fit behind you. He still gripped your wrists when he leaned his face closer and said, “You are meant to be with me. You are mine, and you couldn’t go back to your old life even if I let you. You are not human! This is your home now and I am all you have!”

“…I hate you.” You tried your hardest to maintain the glare in your stare-off, but a tinge of red was seeping into the blue of his eyes, like little veins slithering from the pupil and infecting the iris, and it called for you to back off, to stand down. You looked away from him and he took a breath.

“You will learn to love me,” He whispered. The words, hot from his breath, softly kissed your cheek before fading to coldness.

“You stole me—” You met his eyes to see all the red gone, just the mesmerizing ocean blue “—How could I ever love you? Why would I even bother to try?”

“Because what could you have possibly had on Earth that was so good--Nothing. I saved you,” He said then straightened to his full height. “I am the only one that loves you.”

You jerked your head back when he tried to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear with the hand that wasn’t currently holding your wrists captive. “You don’t love me. We only slept together once.”

“It was enough for me to confirm what I want.”

“What you want from me,” You corrected with a shake of your head. You knew he would take everything from you whether you willingly gave it or not. 

“What I want with you.”

“You’re insane...and sick!”

August chuckled and released you, but there was a warning in that chuckle, a threat in the way he let your hands free. He was being merciful—he wanted you to realize—and would have no problem easily putting you back in your place if you didn’t calm yourself. “I’m getting really sick of your mouth.”

“Yea, well maybe you took the wrong girl.”

He smirked again then crossed his arms, staring down at you, almost examining. “No, I didn’t,” was all he said before he turned to walk away. He paused right before the door and pointed a long finger at the tray of food. “Eat. And maybe by the time I come back you’ll have straightened out that attitude.”

Yea, right. You rolled your eyes as he slammed the door behind him. Not a chance in hell.

----

Tags: @meriamunnofrumerit​ @mis-lil-red​ @agniavateira​ @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @meganwinchester1999​ @summersong69​ @starlite13​ @mstgsmy​ @purplelove75​ @defffcc​ @the-soot-sprite​ @kissthatlifeaway​ @atomicpaperhairdouniversity​ @aquariuslavenderhoney​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @the-problem-of-leisure​ @amberlokabrenna​ @a-dlv​ @writing-about-current-obsessions​ @coffeebreathy​ @madbaddic7ed​ @petitefirecracker10​ 

[reincarnated70sbaby]

linger

listen before you read!

robert plant xfem!oc

warnings : drug use, swearing, trucklot of angst ;)

word count : 2.1k

an: was listening to ‘linger’ by the cranberries and I couldn’t pass up this angsty idea I got 😎 timeline is off but yolo ig...

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

Sloane leaned down to the table to take an extra line for her pre-performance nerves. She felt a little more nervous today, this particular concert being one of the largest yet. She was the front woman of The CAPs, who were opening for Led Zeppelin for their summer of ‘69 tour. This was exactly the break the band needed, finally getting recognition for all their talent and hard work over the last two years.

She applied a little powder to her face, and patted on her classic red lipstick to her slightly chapped lips. Securing the clasps of her platform red heels, she shook her body in hopes of shaking away her anxious jitters. Once she had finished her body-shaking ritual, she walked out from the wings of the stage.

As she walked across to centre stage, wind blowing through the holes of her white crochet dress. The crowd cheered loudly as the band waved to them.

“How’s everyone doin’ today? It’s so hot today, my boobs are sweating off!” She greeted the crowd with her bubbly nature. Adjusting the mic stand to her height, she continued to address the huge crowd. “Today’s set list will have a slight adjustment to it, we’re starting off with a new song I wrote just last night. It’s a little softer than our other music, so just sit back- or should I say lean back on the person behind you - and relax. This is called ‘Linger’ "

While she was speaking to the crowd, a teenage roadie ran onto the stage and placed a stool, for Sloane to sit on, and disappeared again in a heartbeat. The crowd, didn’t even take notice of the young boy, entranced with the tawny blonde singer as usual.

Sloane sat down, crossed her legs and nodded toward Rory, to begin. Rory started picking a simple guitar melody on his trusty Gibson acoustic, the first guitar he ever picked up. Sloane swayed lightly to the rhythm, eyes on the horizon above the crowd. Soon after, Marshall joined in with quiet, but strong beat on drums. At the same time, Oscar added the baseline to the song.

Taking a deep breath, Sloane began the song.

If you, If you could return, Don’t let it burn, Don’t let it fade, I’m sure I’m not being rude, It’s just your attitude, It’s tearing me apart, It’s ruining every day

I swore, I swore I would be true, But honey so did you, So why were you holding her hand? Is that the way we stand? We’re you lying all the time? Was it just a game to you?

Sloane sang gently, her eyes closed with a pained look on her face. She thought back to the day before, when everything fell apart.

———

“Sloane, honey, please tell me what’s wrong! You’re being so closed off with me today!” Robert pleaded, grabbing her hand while she was walking away. Sloane yanked her hand away and walked towards an empty storeroom in the hotel corridor.

“Don’t get any ideas, we need to talk privately” Sloane commanded as she entered into the storeroom. It had barely enough space for both of them to fit, being crammed full with towels and bedsheets.

“Please, love, jus’ tell me what’s bothering you, I wanna make you happy”

“Oh fuck off Robert, you’re so fake and a liar. These past couple of months have all been a lie!”

“What’re talkin’ about? I have never lied to you once”

“Seriously? ‘I’ve never lied to you’? Are you actually for real right now? Do you know what I just found out Robert? You’re fucking married! And she’s coming here tonight! You didn’t think I would deserve to know that!” She yelled, ignoring her previous statement about keeping this private.

“I didn’t tell you because I was scared okay? I have never felt like this before with anyone else. All the groupies were just for sex, but when I met you I had fallen for you Slo, you make me a better person in every way”

“I don’t care how I make you feel, you’re still married! With kids! How would they feel if they found out their father was in a relationship with a woman other than their mother? I can’t believe you did this to me willingly, even after I told you what happened with my parents. That messed me up, seeing my father with another woman, and leaving my mother for her. Never seeing him again, choosing his new family over me and my siblings. That hurts me the most Robert, you knew my history and you ignored it!” Sloane cried out, tears falling freely on her face, running her dark eye makeup.

“I never meant to hurt you love, you mean so much to me. I just didn’t think- I never fuckin think, but I my feelings were so strong for you, I never thought about Maureen, I’m shamed to admit it” Robert plead, guilt weighing on his conscience. He reached out to wipe her tears away, but Sloane turned her head, the same pained look on her face.

“We’re done. I can’t stay with someone who could forget about their own wife and kids, and forget to tell their girlfriend that she’s actually a mistress. Goodbye” Sloane said, pushing her way out of the cramped closet, before running to the elevator at the end of the hall.

———

But I’m in so deep, You know I’m such a fool for you, You got me wrapped around your finger, Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to? Do you have to let it linger?

Sloane sang emotionally, a single tear escaped her tear duct. She took the break for guitar solo to take a couple deep breathes, and to calm her heightened emotions down.

Oh, I thought the world of you, I thought nothing could go wrong, But I was wrong, I was wrong

If you, if you could get by, Trying not to lie, Things wouldn’t be so confused, And I wouldn’t feel so used, But you always knew, I just want to be with you

———

Sloane sat at the large round table, sipping her wine. The two bands had just completed all the concerts in France, and were having a celebratory dinner for the night. The lights were dim in the fancy restaurant, but Sloane could still see the heartbreaking sight of Maureen and Robert cozying up to eachother. She longed to be the one Robert was dedicated to, to be his Maureen, to be the one who sipped on his beer instead of her wine for a change, to rest her hand on his knee. She wished to be the one who would sleep with him in bed each night, without a worry of cheating or unfaithfulness. Her heart was also broken for Maureen, she was so inlove with Robert, as was he with her. She was also probably the greatest mother out there, being a single parent for a lot of the year.

Sloane switched her focus from the smitten couple, to Marshall and John Bonham's discussion on gongs, congas and all exotic drums.

Everything had been going so well, the concerts each night going to wonderfully, the bands got on great together. Even all the touring crew and management got on well with eachother. It was like one, big, slightly dysfunctional family.

Sloane wished she could vent to one of her bandmates about her case of ill fated love, but she knew if she told any of the CAP boys, tension would arise between the bands, and she simply couldn't bear to break the harmony.

“I’m sorry everyone, but I feel a bit ill and I think it would be best if I went to my room” Sloane announced, rising from her chair. She briefly locked eyes with Robert, before averting her eyes that threatened to fill with tears.

“Are you sure you’re okay Slo? I can come up and look after you if you feel faint or anything?” Rory asked genuinely, concerned for his little sister, he noticed she had been a little less bubbly than normal today.

“I’m fine Ror, I’ll think being on the go and travelling for the last couple of months has caught up with me. I’ll call you if I need you. Love you” she said, hugging him tightly.

“Love you, stay safe sis”

A chorus of goodbyes were heard as she left the table and walked out of the brassiere restaurant.

As soon as she entered her large room, she decided to clean up her stuff in order to distract herself. She folded all her clothes, tucked all her shoes into her suitcase, and cleaned up her makeup station on the vanity, placing the assortment of beauty products in the black makeup bag she owned.

After she was done cleaning, she ordered a couple bottles of wine, with some croissant from room service, taking advantage of the readily available French delicacies.

Lowering herself into the warm bubble bath she ran while waiting for her room service, her mind wandered to the whole situation, creating lyrics in her head. Luckily she brought her songbook, so there was no need to get out of the bath in search for it. She poured her heart out into the lyrics. After finishing the lyrics up, she soaked for a little longer, until she felt herself pruning and wrapped the fuzzy bath robe around herself.

She was about to turn off her bedside light to sleep, when she heard a light knock on the door. Her head scrambled, trying to figuring out who it was. Must be Rory checking up on me she thought. Opening the door, her heart skipped a beat at the visitor.

“Sloane let me-“

“Robert, please, I told you we were over”

“Will you let me speak, I need to talk to you”

Sloane stepped aside from the door, letting him in. She guided him to the seating area of the room, not wanting to risk being near the bed.

“Uh, d’want tea or something?” Sloane asked the blonde man, the air heavy with awkward tension.

“Yeah sure, love. That’d be great” Robert answered warmly.

“So, what do you want to say” Sloane asked, pushing his tea on front of him.

“Sloane, I’m sorry. I still do love you and I hate that I fucked everything up. I was just so infatuated- I still am, and I regret that I made you feel upset. I just want to say sorry”

“I- I still love you too Robert, it wasn’t just one sided, I really thought you were the one”

“Sloane, I don’t know what to say… If- if you ask me to, I will. I want you. I want to be yours.”

“Robert- I. I can’t do that. As much as I want to love you and be with you, I can’t be a homewrecker. I’ve seen the way you are with Maureen, you love her. I know in my gut that you’re better off with her. She loves you and deserves you 100%” Sloane’s face was wet with tears.

“Uh, okay. I’m sorry love, I really wish I didn’t fuck up our relationship. I really hope that one day we can be friends again, when you’re ready” Robert got up to leave, but was stopped when Sloane grabbed his hand.

“There’s a part of me that will always love you Robert. This was wonderful while it lasted” She spoke with a sad smile on her face.

Robert squeezed her hand in agreement, before exiting the room.

———

And I’m in so deep, You know I’m such a fool for you You got me wrapped around your finger, oh, Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to? Do you have to let it linger?

Oh I’m in so deep, You know I still have love for you, My love has wrapped me round your finger, oh, Do you have to let it linger? Do you have? Do you have to let it linger?

The CAPs finished their song, and Sloane stood up to thank the crowd.

“Robert, darling, there you are. Was that singer at the dinner last night?” Maureen asked warmly to her husband, joining him in the wings.

“Uh, yeah, but she left early because of travel sickness y’know the sort” Robert answered absentmindedly, his deep blue eyes trained on the lead singer, who was preparing for the next song in the band’s set list.

“I must have missed her. She’s gorgeous, isn’t she? I love that song she just sang, great voice” Maureen mused, admiring Sloane’s confidence , akin to her husbands.

“Yeah, yeah she is. She’s a beautiful person, inside and out”

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

my first Robert fic!!! I’m more of a Jimmy girl, but I love the golden god too (Leo men <3)

as always, any criticism/ideas are welcome in my inbox or comments 🤍

tag list : @dreamersdrowse @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @princesspagey ask me if you would like to be added!!

[ikeromantic]

A Moment, No More

Written for @lazy-angel-kitten as part of my 500 follower celebration

Mitsuhide, Moments, Something Blue, Angsty!

Approx. 1400 words

Mitsuhide walked through the castle in the cool morning. Pale light gilded the crown of his hair and lit his amber eyes with a soft glow. Anyone that saw him would say he was beautiful. Anyone but the woman he had eyes for.

She was already up, her hair tucked into a bun at the back of her head. A few wisps already sought escape, curling around her delicate ears and the tender skin at the back of her neck.

His fingers sought that silken thread, and he wondered if each strand would feel as soft as he imagined it.

The chatelaine looked up, noticing him finally. A wary smile turned up the corners of her lips and crinkled the edges of her eyes. “Good morning Mitsuhide!”

“It is morning. Whether or not it is good . . .”

She laughed. “That’s exactly the kind of answer I expected from you.”

Mitsuhide felt a real smile threaten the mask he kept so firmly in place. “I am glad I could amuse you, but next time I will need to be less predictable.” He gave a little bow.

“Then I will look forward to it.” She reached over and patted his arm. Her hand was warm, her touch gentle.

He leaned into the touch, his body obeying its own natural laws, whatever his mind asked of it. “I brought you something.”

“A gift?” She looked up.

Mitsuhide held up a tiny bellflower and turned it in his fingers for her to see. Then he tucked it into her hair. The strands were as soft as he’d imagined. Better, even. And though it was a silly gesture, seeing her wearing Akechi blue made his heart glad. But not as glad as the soft smile that lit her eyes. That made her glow.

“Thank you.” Her hand fell away from his arm, though she didn’t step back. Her eyes met his and Mitsuhide felt his heart stir in his chest.

And then the spell broke, and the moment was gone as if it had never happened. Hideyoshi stepped out of the nearby door, his smile wide and satisfied. “I thought I heard your voice! Did you need help with-” He noticed Mitsuhide. The lack of distance between them.

“I was just wishing our chatelaine good morning.” Mitsuhide’s smile hurt but he’d rather die than let it go.

Hideyoshi’s brows drew together as he struggled with himself.

Mitsuhide waited to see what would win out. His mother hen side? His big brother complex? Or the budding love that he had yet to acknowledge?

“That’s unusual.” Hideyoshi’s eyes narrowed. “Did you need something?”

“No, in fact, I was just on my way out.” Mitsuhide gave them both a slight bow.

“Have a good day,” the chatelaine called.

Hideyoshi watched in contemplative silence until Mitsuhide was out of sight.

Mitsuhide could hear the chatelaine’s high, sweet voice even over the sounds of the castle staff as he made his way to the gate. Her voice followed him all day. From teahouse to merchant’s stall, to the docks. He couldn’t make out the words, just the sound. Like a distant song.

And then he spotted her. She was nearly at the end of the street. Hideyoshi was walking beside her and she had hold of his arm. Her face was turned up to his, eyes lit up with affection. Her sweet lips curved in a smile.

In that moment, Mitsuhide would have given anything - everything - to trade places with Hideyoshi. He would gladly accept damnation just to be the one she smiled like that for. Just for one moment.

He turned away. It tore at him inside. An itch, an ache, with no relief. Mitsuhide sought out the red lantern. An inn with companions to enjoy for an hour or two, hoping they could drive this from him. He sat at a private table, and the owner brought two beautiful women to serve him. They were beauties. Lips as red as blood, soft skin, eyes like dark pools a man could lose himself in.

Mitsuhide let them pour his sake and sit on his lap. They draped their perfumed arms around him and stroked his chest. They laughed and teased, and kissed his neck. But every touch only reminded him they were not her.

He paid and left. By then, it was dark out. The moon sat low in the sky, nearly full, bloated with its own importance. The stars drew his eyes up as he walked back to Azuchi. They were so distant. Tiny, insignificant things. Beautiful. Like the light in her eyes. Unreachable.

Mitsuhide suddenly felt sick. The sake, the smell of stale perfume and sweat, the lipstick smears on his chest and neck disgusted him. He wasn’t worthy of a love like hers. Not when her gentle rejection sent him crawling into the arms of a courtesan. He deserved the ache in his chest, the tight, roiling heat in his low belly.

The Azuchi castle baths were cold this time of night, and blessedly empty. Mitsuhide didn’t bother with a lantern. He filled a tub and shed his clothes. The cold water cleared his head as he sank down into it. With sand and fragrant herbs, he scrubbed his skin pink. He wanted to be clean, inside and out. But some filth couldn’t wash away so easily.

There was blood on his hands that no bath could remove. He was a man fated to live in darkness. To take on himself the tasks that better men could not do. It had never hurt so much before to acknowledge this . . . and yet. For her he wished . . .

Mitsuhide lay back in the water and closed his eyes. Burnished gold dimmed and hidden. His hair spread behind him like a soft cloud of pale silk. He tried to ease his grief, to forget it. To float, untouched by deep emotion. But a warm glow grew at the corners of his vision, banishing that inner darkness.

His eyes opened as he realized it was lantern light.

“Mitsuhide.” Her face hung over his, a study of light and shadows. Loose hair cascaded down her back, curling at her collarbone.

It was a dream made into life. And a joke. A taunt. He told himself to sit up. Say something sharp, witty. Cruel. Then she would leave and he would be alone. Again. He didn’t move, didn’t speak.

He could feel her eyes like a physical touch, the faintest trace of warmth as they slid from his face to his bare chest, his exposed belly, the delicate trace of hair that led down from his belly button. His breath trembled - and hers did too.

Fingers as soft as fine spun silk settled on his cheek, her thumb smoothing a drop of water from his skin. Her lips parted. And Mitsuhide damned all gods and demons as he sat up and kissed her. She was hot to the touch, like embracing the flame. Like holding to the sun.

For one moment he was blessed. And then she pushed away from him. Her eyes were wide with surprise. Her breath came in gasps. “You kissed me!”

He wanted very much to do it again. He could see all of her now. The thin, damp cloth of her gown clung to her naked body like a second skin. He could see every curve and valley of her body and he ached to trace paths on it with his fingertips. With his tongue.

“What did you think, little mouse, when you stumbled on me bathing? Did you enjoy the view?” He tried to purr the words, smooth and in control, but they rasped from his throat with need.

“I . . .” She looked away. Her hands curled into little fists at her sides.

“Admit it. Tell me you like what you see.” He stood, letting the water cascade down him. The droplets were cold on his now fevered skin. “Tell me, and I promise you I will show you so much more.”

“I hate you.” The words were a harsh whisper. And then she turned on her heel and ran.

Mitsuhide watched her go, the distance between them flaying his heart. There was no happy end for monsters, he thought.

A tiny blue bellflower lay trampled on the ground. Wilted, broken stemmed. Forgotten.

[fvrxdrm]

Through the Valley

Pairing: Jesse McCree x F!Reader

Warning(s): Mentions of violence, angst

Setting: Deadlock/Pre-Blackwatch/Pre-recall

Song: Through the Valley (Ellie’s cover)

*****

When the universe was formed, the world was sculpted with rocks, and when the world was sculpted with rocks, strange beings were brought down to earth, and when strange beings were brought down to earth, sins were born, and when sins were born, dissensions were brought to light, and when dissensions were brought to light, war had clouded the visions of many beings and humanity teared itself down, one by one, with metal blades and flying arrows, and evolving into something much more minacious and powerful…

…like a gun.

So much vigor, so much anger, so much power. With one pull of a trigger, one life could be led towards heaven or hell, with no chance of escaping a baneful bullet; piercing through the skin and tearing the flesh, embedding itself deep till the person dies losing blood or be lucky enough to survive such fatal shot.

An excellent marksman’s the only one capable of doing that.

Specifically, those who know their guns by heart.

They are precise. They are rigorous. And they make every shot count. They make sure the target receives the end of their blazing weapons, and they’ll do it again and again till they’re satisfied with the bloodshed they’ve created. Their eyes would gleam with red, and blood would boil deep within their veins.

Even with one shot, those who feel agony could be standing right in front of death’s door.

There’s this marksman though, a gunslinger who seems to have held a gun since his mother gave birth to him. His accuracy cannot be matched even by those whose experiences have passed through the roof. Even with a blindfold on he still knew where to point his revolver at. He was a shit-hot at what he was doing, as they say.

Deadeye is what they call him.

People believe that the Deadeye was a curse that was passed from his ancestors to their descendants, and he happens to be their newest successor, which means he was to hold the malediction whether he liked it or not.

Truth is, it isn’t a curse.

Born by pain and abandonment, he was forced to teach himself how to survive on his own at such a young age. He worked hard to feed himself with enough food to desist from dying from an empty stomach, he rode by rivers and looked out for cacti to give himself something to drink, and most importantly, he taught himself how to pull a trigger and defend himself from nasty foes with the use of a gun he likes to call…the Peacekeeper.

After so many years of living and surviving on his own, a gang who called themselves the Deadlock Rebels took him with them and dinned him on how to rob banks and stir up ruckus in villages and towns. He was happy to have found a family who he could rely himself on even with their twisted intentions, and for the first time in his entire life, he felt rapturous.

Every blood he spilled was a trophy to be held in his hands, every eye that widened in fear had the hunger lurking beneath consume him until he became the monster that he was, every bullet that flew with the speed of light had his teeth grinding together, and every word that spread around town had him grinning with sharpened fangs.

People see him as the devil himself, only softening what was left of his heart when a kiss was pressed against his vulgar lips.

His lover was pristine and innocent, an angel in contrast to the demon he turned himself into. She had bright eyes and a scintillating smile, a touch so gentle and feather-like, a voice so small and warm, and a forgiving heart nobody deserved to earn unless she allowed it to.

Folks have wondered how on earth had she given a killer a chance and had asked the same question over and over again, but she always replied with the same answer as well;

“He was orphaned by evil and war; always have, always will be. Someone as broken as him may not be fixed, but they deserve love just as much as those who have found their place in order to help find their purpose on earth again. There are paths in front of them to help guide them in life, and what surrounds them will give them a reason to stay in the path they’ve chosen.”

Some people agree, some people don’t. But at the end of the day, it’s her belief and children look up to her and admire the goodwill she possesses even though her trust was something to be worried about. She claims she knows what she’s doing and all the world hopes that she truly does.

The heart of his lover would burn at every bruise and every wound the young man would come home with, and every word of what his gang had done would send her heart palpitating in an almost irregular speed. She feared of what was to come, and she hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t end up like the folks who have met the end of Peacekeeper’s barrel.

Years have passed and the man grew into a more ruthless killer. He had a heart of stone but it never forgot the woman who have given him an aspiration better than what they had then. He was going to be head and shoulders above, he promised. Just not now. The devil on his shoulder was still pulling him underneath. And when the day the voices in his head have stopped screaming comes, he’ll find a better home for the two of them; one where they could raise a few children of their own and make love until the sun rises in the east.

But alas, the dreams he had hoped for came to an unfortunate close…

The Deadlocks had been ambushed by soldiers of Overwatch, slowly killing the only family he’s had and taking him and his lover in to probably rot for the rest of their lives. Blue had befogged his vision, but red had risen flames inside of him.

Bullets flew from his tongue the moment he was thrown into a room flooded in black with only a poor excuse of a light hanging above him. He sat impatient, fists clenching and unclenching in fear of what they might’ve done to his girl. She could’ve been suffering from a harrowing death and nobody gave him one last chance to say what must be said before her final moments, and that was enough to untether something wilder inside of him.

He was given two options: he would be thrown into jail and be left there to rot or be given a chance to walk in the right path and leave the wrong, change himself and the world for the better.

The commander had seen something in him: a potential. The woman was right when she said he was forced into a void full of nothing but anguish at such a young age, and pity was what he felt for the gunslinger.

The power he had with his gun was nothing Reyes had ever seen. He was one with Peacekeeper; both thriving to reach the heights with ardor and strength. It would a shame if his talent was just going to be thrown into waste. So, what better way to use it than with noble purpose?

He was right. The offer was better than to slowly sink into the fires of hell. But what’s the point of throwing his hat into the ring if the woman he loves was in the opposite side of the wall? What’s the point of it all if she wasn’t going to be the shoulder he could cry on? What made it even worse was the fact that he was just going to be stuck in a goddamn loop.

Maybe dreams were only meant to be dreams…

It seemed like the world gave him a certain fate; a fate where death was something that would haunt him like a ghost whenever he was in the firing line, a fate where shadows were to be seen in his line of sight, and possibly a fate where he becomes a weapon himself and shoot down those he cared for dearly. And it scared him. But, what choice did he have? He’d rather see the world again and again, even in its darkest times, than die pathetically in his cage.

“Good choice, kid. I think you both know why you were brought here on earth in the first place.”

'Cause I walk through the valley of the shadow of death And I fear no evil because I'm blind Oh, and I walk beside the still waters and they restore my soul But I know when I die my soul is damned

Jesse sang with shaky breath, fingers trembling against tattered wood, before his hands rested loosely against his guitar and sighed into the warm night air.

“We’ll be alright,” his lover said. Her calloused fingers gently grasped his metallic one and smiled sadly at him.

They both wore rings, a symbol of the love they’ve treasured and every trial they’ve come across along the way. The vows they’ve exchanged gave them a reason to stay, a reason to fight again. It was a bittersweet surrender, but it was worth it.

“Yeah, we’ll be alright.”

[pars-ley]

Red thread of fate

Pairing: Vampire Seokjin x Female human reader

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Genre: Angst / Fluff / Smut / Fantasy au / Soulmates au / Vampire au /

Warnings: Mentions of blood / mentions of staking / oral f.recieving / foreplay with candle wax / bondage / blindfold / dead body / minor character death / self inflicted wound (not fatal and not a suicide attempt)

Summary: The red thread of fate leads you to your soulmate, when it's someone completely unexpected and completely against your upbringing, how will your family history impact on this match and will going against them come back to bite you.

Word count: 6668 (666 👀)

A/N: This is for my BTS writers group secret santa project for @crystaljins​ I messed up and it ended up being not so secret but I really hope you enjoy this! It’s a bit out of my comfort zone and even though it was stressful, I’ve enjoyed that challenge. Thank you for being so understanding too. 

Beta read by @aroseforyoongi​ thank you for being a life saver! Thank you to @papillonsgf​ for your helpful advice, who else would I go to about old fashioned language use, you’re the queen. Last but not least @wheresmymoniat​ for her ENDLESS help and support! I will never be able to thank you enough.

Running along the beach at night with nothing but the moonlight illuminating your way, may be eerie to some but to you, something about the darkness brought you peace. It soothed your mind and silenced your thoughts. 

You've been following this feeling for years, letting your feet lead you to the pulling sensation and yet never seeming to get anywhere closer to where it wants you to be.

You've ran across this beach almost every night for the past year, against the ingrained advice of your family, warning you about the demonic creatures that prey on the innocent, concealed under the blanket of night.

So far, the only thing you've come across, night after night, are the echoing sounds of despair, calling along the cool night breeze.

The noise frightened you at first but now, you grow curious about it. Where is it coming from? Who or what is it coming from? And why? What could fill someone with that must much distress, that they call out into nothing? Maybe, it's a cry for help. Who knows but you were determined to find out. 

A shadow in the distance catches your eye, a silhouette, someone standing on the wet sand, the low tide pooling around their feet as they stare up at the full moon.

You slow your jogging to a walk, as to not alarm them, the sea lapping against the shore is the only sound you can hear tonight.

As you near, the person turns to you, a man with striking features and broad shoulders. He watches you bewildered as you close the distance between you. Your feet moving on their own, your body being pulled more forcefully than ever before. 

Until you're here, in front of him. The one they all whisper about. Kim Seokjin. The town's resident vampire. 

The many rumours of him insist he's lived here for more than 200 years, pacing the cliff edge each night, never changing and never aging. Most people laugh it off as nothing but myth but you knew different, you knew the rumours were true. And here you are faced with the man, the mystery, the legend himself. The legend who has slain every vampire hunter he’s come in contact with, another fact you were privy to know.

"It's nice to meet you Seokjin." You say confidently.

He smiles warily, an obvious glint of sadness in his eyes. "I see my reputation precedes me?"

"It does. But it's hard not to recognise the only vampire in town." 

He laughs darkly. "Is that what they say?"

You watch him carefully, wondering what could be tormenting him so, a shroud of darkness covering him or keeping him hidden. "It is, but don't worry,  I'm very good at keeping secrets."

"If you believe that, are you not afraid?" He turns to face you with a questioning brow and a menacing grin.

You shake your head. "No."

"And why not?" he asks, his face dropping back into a sorrowful mask as he returns his attention back to the inky sea before you.

You turn too, facing the view of the reflected moonlight shimmering across the water and shrug. "Something is telling me I shouldn't be, call me crazy but I can feel that you won't hurt me."

Glancing over, you see him staring down at your hand, wide eyed and open mouthed. 

"What?" You ask, examining it suspiciously.

His mouth snaps shut, eyes darting back to yours as his face conceals all emotion.

"What are you doing out this late? Did no one tell you of the creatures of the night?" He teases a slight smirk curving his plump lips., so smooth, there’s not a single wrinkle creasing the skin.

You laugh. If only he knew, your family probably knew more than he did about the creatures in question. "I come along this beach every night."

He frowns. "Alone and in the dark...why?"

Will he think you're crazy if you tell him? No crazier than him being a vampire i suppose. "I'm searching for something."

He turns towards you, his body angled completely in your direction, capturing his full attention. "And what is that?"

You shrug, cheeks flushing but hoping the moonlight isn't enough to reveal your embarrassment. "I'm not sure."

He huffs a laugh out of his nose, the sounds of the air leaving his nostrils strong enough to be heard over the rolling tide. "You are a curious creature."

You raise an eyebrow at him, giving him a quizzical look  and he laughs, a light now sparkling in his dark, guarded eyes. 

"Touché. Would you care to walk with me?" He asks, stepping out of the surf and back onto the dry sand.

You nod, following the footprints he's already left behind as he heads off in front.

"You seem to know so much about me and I know nothing of you, apart from the fact you like moonlit walks on the beach every night." He looks sideways at you, waiting for you to elaborate.

"Ok, for every question you ask me, I get to ask you one in return."

His mouth stretches into a smile. "Fine but I start."

"Deal; but you have to be honest. No lying."

With a smirk he stops, gently taking your hand in his and bringing your fingers slowly up to his mouth, his eyes staring into you the entire time. "You have my word." He places a chaste kiss on the back of your hand and it's enough to make your heart hammer wildly in your chest. You wonder, embarrassingly, if he can hear it.

"Ok, what is your name?" He starts.

You tell him, leaving out your family name as it may raise more questions than necessary. A confrontation you're not quite read for.

"How long have you lived here?" You ask.

"Here on this earth, or here in this town?"

You smirk at his smart-ass response. "In this town?"

"Roughly, about two hundred and thirty years." He looks over at you, watching your expression carefully for reaction, all you can do is nod, keeping your face impassive. "What were you searching for on the beach?" 

You grimace, knowing that question was coming but dreading it just the same. "I truly don't know...it sounds crazy…"

Shrugging, he says, "Try me."

Sighing you give in. "For years, as soon as I turned eighteen, things changed, something was pulling me, leading me. It led me to different countries around the world until eventually...back here. I feel like something's calling me but I have no idea what…" You watch him as he stares at the sand he steps on, a focused frown between his brows. When you get no response, you move on.

"Ok, how long have you lived on this earth?"

"Three hundred and seventy nine years."

He says it so matter-of-factly you mouth 'wow'.

"What countries did this feeling take you to?" He asks quickly, before you even have a chance to begin to process his last answer.

"Erm, France first, then Italy, Peru and lastly Finland. What do you eat?...or drink?"

He gives you a dark look and a mischievous grin stretches his mouth revealing his perfect white teeth. Are they sharp? "What do you think?"

"Don't answer a question with a question." You roll your eyes at him and he laughs, a low chuckle that feels like it vibrates your soul, warming you up from the inside.

"As you wish...I drink blood. Does that make you nervous?"

An involuntary swallow makes its way down your throat and your cheeks flush. "A little." You admit sheepishly. "Do you only drink from humans?"

"No, sometimes animals. Do you want children in the future?" 

You choke on air at the strange turn in questioning, always feeling uncomfortable when kids are mentioned, always ready for the judgement your answer brings. "No, I'm not keen on them and they don't like me."

He laughs, the high pitched screech ringing out around you, bouncing off the cliff faces as you walk and you realise you’re smiling up at him in response.

"Do you kill the people you drink from?"

He reels at your abruptness but amusement sparkles in his eyes. "No, they go home unharmed and usually, do not remember a thing. Do you have a significant other?"

"No.” you ignore the tug of loneliness you feel at the reminder but try not to pause too long. “Is that one of your...gifts, you make people forget?"

He nods. "Of sorts. Have you ever been in love before?"

You feel hot under your shirt, the material suddenly too clingy and uncomfortable and the questions getting too personal but you can’t stop answering as you need to know more about him and you can’t explain why. "...no. Have you seen much of the world?"

"I have been to many places in my lifetime and seen many things, yes. Do you believe in love?" 

You stumble slightly and his hand instantly wraps around your arm, steadying you with a firm and yet gentle grip. "Um, yes I do. Where's been your favourite places to visit?"

"I'm sensing you like to travel, hence the line of questioning. Well, most recently, I've been to France, Italy, Peru and Finland." He watches you from the corners of his eye and you frown, curious as to why, when his answer registers.

Your feet stop moving, they can't-won't move. You stare at his broad back before he slows and turns to you.

"When did you go there?" You ask into the heavy silence, no longer hearing the waves lap against the shore.

He looks out to sea, away from you.  "I think you know the answer."

You did, but you had to hear him say it, you needed to hear the words. Your frozen form unmoving with wide, seeking eyes, your mind frantic as you try to make sense of this.

He sighs. "I left here three years ago and returned last year." 

Your mind explodes with questions. How is this possible? And what does it mean?

"Let me ask this then, where is that feeling of yours pulling you now?" He asks, closing the distance between you and gently cupping your face. You find yourself leaning into it, his touch seeming to comfort your wild thoughts, if only for a moment before you remember he’s a stranger to you. You hear his question bounce around in your mind, realising alarmingly that you're not being pulled anywhere. You feel completely in control of yourself for the first time in a long time, completely at ease and at peace.

Your body feels lighter, your mind free of wondering. 

Him. It couldn’t be...could it? If it is him...why?

He must see the question behind your eyes, he strokes his thumb across your wrinkled brow, smoothing the skin and forcing your muscles to relax.

"Tell me, have you ever heard of the red thread of fate?"

What do you do when you find your soulmate? The person, or vampire in your case, who is bound to you forever…

What could you do? No use fighting fate, you'll only end up being proven wrong. 

You'd listened intently, when Seokjin had explained all about the red thread and told you many true stories of soulmates with both happy and tragic ends, until the sky was light and the sun was almost up and he had to retire back to his extraordinary house on the cliffs.

He had told you that vampires have sight for the thread, only attached to themselves and no one else but that they lack the ability to be able to follow it, unsure as to why, he insists it’s another way for vampires to be tortured. 

You have a lot of information to process and want time alone to do so. 

You lock yourself in your apartment the morning after meeting him. The one your soul is bound to. The one who will have your heart completely. Even as you think it, it feels odd. What are you having such a hard time with? If vampires are real, why not soulmates? 

For days you keep yourself trapped inside, unable to keep your pacing legs still, as you incessantly wear a beaten pathway through the pile of your plush carpet.

The storm swirling in your mind, turning your thoughts into a twister of frenzied energy, you grapple with yourself in a constant battle to keep yourself grounded whilst also listening to your heart over your head. 

This goes against everything you've been raised to believe. Vampires are predatory monsters, who crave on the pure and innocent to torture and outlive their perverted desires.

What would your parents say if they knew? You could envision a few choice words, at the very least but do you even care what their response would be? Definitely not. And yet, here you are, staring absentmindedly out of your window the view of the beach haunting you, possessing your mind with his face, his laugh, his voice. Your head feels torn, split in two, a crack right down the middle of your skull seeping out sanity as you cradle your head in your hands, a feeble attempt to keep it together.

Your clammy palms and racing heart cannot be calmed no matter what you try in the few torturous days you've spent inside. Something's not right, you feel it in your bones. That usual pulling feeling returns with vengeance, fighting the force on your vital organ makes you sick to your stomach. 

You expected to welcome it with open arms, as you'd grown accustomed to it like an old friend, comforted by it sometimes but as you sit, wrapped in a blanket on your sofa, you feel frantic. A sheen of sweat dampens your brow, restless fidgeting of your feet and legs, an uncomfortable pit in your stomach, heavy as a rock. You can't resist any longer. You have to get out. You have to go to him. You swallow a harsh lump in the back of your throat, the need to scream rising with bile and you grab your coat, your legs leading you, running along the wobbly paths, taking you onto the beach and along the sea edge, back to the same place you stood a few nights ago. 

When you see him standing in the distance once again, nothing but the moonlight on him, your legs gain power and charge you towards him. He is your only destination right now, the only end you seek, the only holy grail you desire.

His head snaps up to you as he begins to close the distance too. He's in front of you before you can blink, wrapping his arms tightly around your middle, clinging to your back in sheer desperation as you fling your arms around his neck and do the same. His relieved breath sounds in your ear As you feel all your stress and pain ease away, washing away with the tide that bleeds into your shoes and tickles your feet.

An overwhelming comfort encases you, emotion swelling in your chest and spilling from your eyes. 

Trying to stay away from him had been a mistake, you realise, as you allow yourself to be drawn in and swallowed by him. No more resisting.

"The last few days have been unbearable." He whispers. 

And with his words, you know, everything you feel, he feels too.

You unwind yourself from him, pulling back to witness his beauty and fathom his expression. His brows knit together tightly as his eyes mirror yours, searching for answers in the depths of glassy pools. 

"I was terrified, after years of waiting for you that you would…" he trails off, mouth open but no words escaping.

"I would what?" You reply, stroking his tortured face, trying to ease some of his anguish.

"Cut the thread." He whispers pained, eyes looking away from yours and locked to the ground.

"How could you cut something you can't see?"

He sighs and presses his forehead to yours. "If you were sure in your mind that you wanted nothing to do with me and refused me, the thread would be severed."

You place your palms against his cheeks and bring his face up, forcing him to meet your eyes.

"These few days have been torture for me too. I thought I needed time to think things through and understand but now I see as clear as day, I need you, Seokjin. I need you like I need air."

The relieved smile that spreads across his face contradicts the desperation in his eyes as you find your lips against his, locked in a ravenous dance of love and lust. He pulls you against him, your body moulding to his perfectly, like two puzzle pieces designed to fit.

When he pulls away, you're dizzy and breathless, and yet, still craving more.

"Your lips make me wonder what the rest of you tastes like." He whispers against your mouth. Your throat contracts as you picture his teeth sinking into you, blood trickling down your neck as you're helpless to stop it and panic seizes your heart in a vice grip.

He sees the alarm in your eyes and laughs. "I was not referring to your blood, my love."

His seductive tone has your core pulsing with heavy need, an ache forming and residing there as your mouths meet again, entranced in a ravenous flutter of his pillowy lips against yours. 

You want him. You need him. And he is yours for eternity, you can have him.

Night after night in his old, gothic mansion, exploring each others minds, souls and bodies, you are weightless with adoration and besotted by the way his mind works. His old fashioned language mesmerising as you listen each evening to his riveting stories and tales. 

You laugh together under a blanket of firelight and warmth with soft, gentle touches across bare skin and fierce kisses trailing a heat you've never felt. And when the sun comes up and the curtains are drawn to keep the daylight at bay, the exploration continues, physically this time, your bodies forming together as one. Touches become hungry and desperate the further you delve into the never ending pit of pleasure. He worships every inch of you, hardly letting you catch your breath before his cool skin is against yours, enveloping you entirely in a euphoric haze you don't ever want to escape from.

"Do you trust me?" He says quietly, breath fanning out over your face.

You nod.

"I need words, darling." He strokes a thumb across your bottom lip and tugs it from between your teeth.

"Yes." You reply, louder than you expect.

"Alright, alright, we are not in the military, calm down."

You can hear the smirk in his voice as you slap him playfully on what you assume is his chest. 

He adjusts the black blindfold that covers your eyes, moving it down slightly to completely conceal your vision.

"Are you comfortable?" He asks in your ear as he checks your rope bondaged arms, tight enough to pinch but not enough discomfort for you to refuse them.

"Yes." You arch your back, pushing your crotch forward, impatient and begging to be touched, the action causing your wrists to pull tight on the rope binding you to the ceiling.

His mouth is on your thigh instantly and it makes you gasp as he leaves light, wet kisses in a teasing trail straight to your core.

"If you want me to stop at any point, you will tell me, yes?" He whispers against your clothed sex, the hot air of his breath making you buck your hips towards him, hoping to find some friction but to no avail.

"So eager." He tuts at you, you might not be able to see but you can imagine the triumphant look on his face.

He hooks a finger inside your underwear, pulling them aside before his mouth is on you. 

Your moan fills the room, bouncing off the cold, stone walls of his old house.

The way he offers up pleasure like a man possessed, his lurid moans only making your need for him grow tenfold. As you writhe before him, desperate for release but also for it not to be over so soon, he holds you firmly at your sides.

The wet sounds his mouth makes fill the otherwise silent room. His name falls from your lips repeatedly, and when you feel the sweet build up begin he slips a finger gently inside you. You gasp, surprised as he beckons your orgasm with his perfectly crooked finger, each movement coaxing it further to the edge. As his tongue moves faster than possible, the sensation breath-taking, you hang off of the woven ropes, your suspended arms making your breaths harder and your head giddy.

"Let go, my love." He whispers against you and at his words you obey, unravelling around him, pleasure pulsating through you with every pound of your heart, just for him. Every arch of your back, every curl of your toes, for him.

You feel his teeth graze your inner thigh, knowing the temptation he feels to sink them into you and taste but his refusal to do it overpowers every time.

He crawls up your body and places his face against your chest, as your hammering heart calms back to its regular beat.

"Does listening to my heart not make you thirsty?" You wonder, wishing you could see his face.

"A little but the more I listen, the more familiar I'll be with it."

"And that means there's less risk of you biting me?" 

He makes a disgusted noise in his throat. "There is no risk of that anyway, I am not an infant vampire, I can control myself, especially with you." He pauses and you hear him sigh. "No, it just means that I will be more attuned to the sound of your heart. So if I lose you in a crowded place, say, I can use it to find you."

Call it naivety, or simply your rebellion against your parents and your refusal to listen to their advice or warnings, but you're still shocked that vampire senses are that impressive.

Your thoughts shatter as his wandering hands and mouth snap you back into the present, deep, hungry need rising fast from the sated pit inside you, once again. He removes your blindfold, pulling the tie with one hand, whilst the other still roams your body. He pulls away, only to remove his shirt and reveal his impressive, broad frame. His bare skin, glowing in the flicker of candle light as he fetches a burning wick and brings it over to your still bound frame.

“Have you ever felt the heat of candle wax?” He asks, his voice smooth as silk and turning your insides to jelly. You shake your head, entranced by the way he’s watching you, like you hold all the answers to life’s questions, like you are his own personal sun chasing away the darkness he stresses is residing in his hell bound soul.

“Would you like to?” 

You nod. Words seeming to have escaped and rendering you incapable.

He brings the candle close to your breasts, his eyes meet yours, you see the heat blazing and baring towards you, sweeping you up as it goes and carrying you to breathless want.

He tilts the wick and as the pooled wax tips over the edge and lands on the skin on the swell of your breasts you gasp. The burn sharp and sudden but as it cools and turns hard the pleasure makes you throb for more. He obliges, hot wax searing and hardening in some of your most sensitive areas and when you think you can’t cope with not having him inside you, he obliges that too. 

Always the gentleman, he clasps your hand in his on your annual evening walk, his thumb tracing loving circles on your skin. His eyes wandering to your face, not interested in the picturesque views around you. 

"Tell me what you're thinking?" He asks quietly, his voice slicing through the silence like a sharpened blade.

Him. You're always thinking about him. When you're about to be forthcoming with that, you feel him stop moving, eyes far away and scouring the trees that surround you in this woodland. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end in a piercing stance as you too can feel the eyes on you, unsure of their purpose or whereabouts.

“Let us go home. Quickly.” He announces, pulling you close to him as you turn and back track the way you came, searching frantically for the opening where the moonlight can illuminate your path and any predators who may be lurking.

Who would dare prey on a vampire, that is faster and stronger than average? You knew but you were desperately hoping you were wrong.

Your feet struggle to keep up with his pace, him almost lifting you off the ground. His eyes tense and his jaw set as he remains solely focused on your route to safety. Before long you see the opening of the trees parting and just as you pass through them and take off down the hill back to his home, you glance behind you. 

A shadowy figure emerges from the trees, still cloaked in darkness from the overhang of the leafy branches and your heart leaps into your throat at the sight, knowing you were being watched and followed. You can’t take your eyes off the unmoving silhouette as you know his stare follows you down the hill, burning holes into the both of you. When you find yourself wondering who could be interested in the both of you, the figure turns and walks back into the woods. Your body goes cold, blood turning to ice in your veins as your heart stills before hammering wildly against your ribs...as you watch the figure limping back into darkness. The same limp your father is plagued by. 

Jin’s eyes are on your face before glancing quickly at the place your gaze is frozen to, hoping...praying that you imagined that. 

You can’t bring yourself to meet his worried stare the whole way home, as he cradles you into his chest, surrounding you with his warmth, it is not enough to thaw the ice inside you or calm the frantic beat of your heart. And as his comforting arm wraps tightly around you, pinning you to him, you cling to it desperately as if you'll be able to keep him safe just by the action. If you hold him tight enough you won't lose him. If only that were true. You know more than anyone, the determination of your father, if he wants him dead, he will stop at nothing to get what he wants. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, feeling like barbed wire as it travels down slow and sharp. Images of your perfect Jin, wide-eyed, cold and expressionless as he lay on the floor in front of you, your father towering over him, smiling, that same sickly smile that makes your stomach churn.

You must protect Jin at all costs. You can't let anyone else, human or creature, die at the hands of your family.

Jin's library is something else. Sitting in his ornate armchair, running your hands along the smooth metal arm rests, your fingers following the intricate designs that are carved, you relax into the feather cushions.

While he was out hunting, you came to do some exploring, knowing you had a couple of hours while he was out. After pleading with him to be careful, keep his wits about him and expect the unexpected you had eventually stopped clinging onto him and let him leave the safety of your embrace. He'd showered you with kisses and whispered sweet nothings until it soothed you. You decide best to stay busy while he's gone, as to not drive yourself insane.

He had mentioned before of books written about true life accounts of vampires and other creatures and you couldn't help but wonder if your family would get a mention in their historical tales.

How wrong you were. 

You gently finger the delicate, worn pages, turning through the chapter dedicated to your heritage. All thirty four pages of your family history. Paintings of each member, personal information to use against them and even a mention of when you were born.

The pages quiver in your trembling fingertips as you stare at your parents names and their sketched faces, posed as if for a wanted poster. 

You read the printed words about their escapades. Having learnt about each one yourself, been subject to their bragging sitting behind your desk while they tried to teach you their hate for all things mystical, hearing words like abomination, unnatural, wrong, despicable; all to describe anything different from themselves. You'd never had it in you, the ability to hate anything that much, that you could harm it. And after years of abuse when they realised your mind was nothing like theirs, when they realised you wouldn't carry on their traditions of hunting and murdering they locked you up and tried to teach you that way. Only for it to backfire, your disdain for them growing to an immeasurable amount causing them to disown you. Since then, at the age of 18, you'd gotten as far away from them as you could. Now knowing you followed your heart around the world and back, chasing him. 

"My love, what's wrong?" Jin's voice sounds into your chaotic thoughts, slicing through them and freezing them in their tracks.

You look down at your still shaking hands and feel the wet trails drift down your cheeks, warm pent up emotion leaking out and dripping onto your shirt.

He’s at your side, brushing the tears off your face, his face following your eyes to see what has you so alarmed.

“Why are you reading about this?” he takes your hands gently from the pages and pulls you to him, enveloping you in his arms and kissing your hair. “Don’t worry, those stories are from years ago, most vampire hunters have given up and returned to hiding in their shadows.”

The soothing strokes of his hand up and down your back calm you somewhat, but you shouldn’t be calmed, you need to be honest with him. The truth will come out, it’s better that it comes from you.

You gently push away and steel yourself, bracing yourself for every possible reaction, he watches you bewildered.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He stretches a hand out and you know if you take it you’ll crumble, losing your courage to explain who you truly are.

“I have something to tell you.” you sigh looking at the floor, ashamed of the words you’re about to say. “I’ve not been entirely honest.”

He steps forward, hooking a finger under your chin and tilting your face up to meet his confused gaze. “You can tell me anything, dearest, you know that.”

You swallow the lump that forms in your throat and try to ignore your heart pounding in your ears, making it hard for you to focus on anything else but the incessant thrumming.

“Jin, I—” The sound of glass shattering in the distance cuts you off from your confession. Both your heads snap up towards the doorway, you take a tentative step forward but his arm comes out in front, halting your feet firmly where they are.

“No, I’ll go, it’s probably just the wind knocking over a vase, we wouldn’t want you to cut yourself now, would we?” he offers you a weak smile and exits the room, leaving nothing but a breath of a breeze in his wake.

Of course, if you’re bleeding he might find that too difficult to resist and he’s expressed time after time how much he detests the idea of drinking your blood. 

Your eyes drift back towards the book. The image in front of you, your fathers wrath twisting his face into that ugly mask you know so well, only it’s not a mask at all. His true self reveals in the moments of his most despicable actions. He towers over a woman, a female vampire, the terror in her eyes as she’s staked through the heart. 

You turn the page quickly, unable to look at it any longer. Your heart aches for her, for all those killed in your family’s name. Now you’re met with your family tree, pictures of members you know and some you don’t, all inked in these pages. Some names had gaping holes, almost as if they’ve been burnt from the book, the edges dark and withered. You lean in and touch, feeling the way the page has stiffened along the uneven brim. 

The sound of a scream cuts into the silence, echoing up the halls to you, your head snaps up before feeling uncomfortable heat on your fingers, you glance down and see the page on fire. You snatch your hand away and watch as your fathers face disintegrates before your eyes, the paper peeling off into ashes and floating in the air around you. The fire fizzles out, leaving a hole identical to the others on the page. You frown wondering why the entire book didn’t go up in flames and why these faces have been burnt from the book. As your mind whirls you hear a grunt in the distance, realising you’ve been side tracked you rush out and run along the corridor and along the stairs, eye scanning your surroundings until you find him.

He leans into the table in the dining hall, hunched over. You rush to his side only to be stopped in your tracks by the dead body that stares back at you. The same twisted angry face, even in death; your father. Older and fatter as you last saw him and somehow still managing to look at you with such disgust even with his cold lifeless eyes. But as you stand here, staring at his demise, the part of you that you thought would grieve when you knew this moment had come greets you with silence. She is as still as you are. The only thing you feel is relief, to never see him or be frightened of him again. You tear your eyes away, part of you still apprehensive that he won’t rise up and attack, that it won’t be the end. But it is. 

You touch Jin lightly on the shoulder. “What happened?” you ask to his back.

He turns slowly, supporting himself with the polished wooden surface of the expensive antique. That’s when you see it. The stake, protruding from his side, red darkening the white shirt into an alarming pattern. 

Your heart sinks, falls to the pits of despair as hope leaves you, floating away out of your grasp. This can’t be it. You’ve only just found him, you can’t lose him now, not when you’re finally free of your past. 

“No. No, no, no. You can’t leave me.” you help him as he sinks to the floor, cradling his face in your hands, desperation seeking his eyes for a positive solution. 

“I’m afraid I have to, my love.” His mouth twists in pain as he speaks as his hands rip the stake out of his side. He pushes against it, trying to stem the blood seeping out.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, this is my fault. I should have told you who I was.” you say as tears run freely down your face, anguish twisting your heart into a suffocating and painful embrace.

He gives you a strained smile. “Dearest, I already knew.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. “How?”

“I can read you so well, you’re always so guarded about your family, all it took...was a flick through a few books...for me to figure it out.” He shifts, trying to ease the pain and you place your palms over his wound, your pathetic attempt at stopping the inevitable. “What I can’t understand...is why you wouldn’t tell me? There’s nothing you could do...that could stop me loving you, especially not something so little as...your family name.” he speaks in between breaths, his words filling your heart to the brim with devotion.

“Please, don’t leave me.” You beg, knowing it’s in fate's hands now.

“I don’t want to, my love.” he lifts a trembling hand to your face, cupping it as you touch your forehead to his. 

If only you were not so extraordinarily ordinary, if only you had some power of your own, you could save him, instead of sitting here helpless. If only you had something that could save him. You look down once again at his wound, a blanket of hopelessness weighing you down, the dark red trickling down into a pool on his varnished floor, growing in size by the minute. 

Blood. BLOOD! You have blood. It might not heal him completely but it’s bound to help!

You stand, looking wildly for anything that could help you slice your skin. 

“Darling, what are you doing? Come back to me?” he says weakly.

You spot the letter opener on the table on  the far side of the room, the sharp metal glinting in the light. You race over, grabbing it and returning to him.

“What are you doing with that?” He asks, eyes full of terror. “You have to live, I will find you again in our next life, but you have to live out this one otherwise your soul will—”

You put a finger to his lips silencing him. “If you drink my blood, will it heal you?” 

He looks at the blade poised above your wrist and back at your face. “I cannot, I will not drink from you.”

Your frantic mind screams inside, torment making you impatient and wild, heartbreak making you willing to try anything. “Seokjin, I swear, if you do not try to survive, I will bring you soul back from the pit of hell myself.”

He lets out a weak laugh. “As you wish, but promise me, if I can not stop drinking, you have to do whatever is necessary to survive?”

You nod as you slice across your wrist, watching the blood seep out of the opening, you hear his sharp intake of breath as you hold your arm to his mouth. His lips quickly encase you and he sucks, he takes your blood until he’s on his knees cradling your arm, devouring you like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted. His own personal banquet.

“Jin, enough now, you have to stop.” you say, sounding surprisingly weak.

He doesn’t respond, just carries on swallowing the life from you. 

“Jin, enough.” you tap him weakly.

At your touch he pries himself off of you. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, are you ok?” His panicked eyes search yours. 

You nod. “That was a close one.”

He grimaces and slides an arm under your legs and the other around your back and lifts you, carrying you away from your fathers dead body, away from the blood, away from all of it.

Relief swarms you, heart fit to burst as you watch his handsome face, the colour returned, the life and mischief that sparkle in his eyes and bury your face into his neck, planting small kisses against his skin. “Thank you.” He says to you. “You saved me.”

You smile. He’s ok, he’s with you, you’re both safe. “How could I not? You would have done the same.”

“I would rather die with you, than live an eternity without you.” 

You smile against his throat, his words flutter your insides. “Well, there’s only one way to make sure we spend eternity together.” 

He looks down at you, searching your eyes. You’re not sure what he finds but whatever it is leads him to respond. “That’s a conversation for another night.”