#this used to give me so much anxiety when i first became a stay.. i had no clue what the shows and points everyone was talking about were

[asakurahaos]

*tired sigh*

can yall.. idk, just enjoy their songs and the holiday season and not make it into another obligation?

[thesquidgame]

Predictable

Hwang In-ho x wife!reader

Part One Part Two

Summary: Your peaceful married life is disrupted by strange symptoms.

Warnings: ANGST, money issues, hospitals, disease outbreak (MERS), disease symptoms (not MERS), poor working conditions, bad coworker, (implied) understaffed hospitals, panic, health problems, medical condition, neurological symptoms, blood, graphic depictions of medical emergency, vomiting blood, stepping on glass, extended TWs: here

Word Count: 2k~

Your apartment was dingy and small. It was on the outskirts of Seoul, and your had to take three buses to get to work. But it was alright. Your house was clean, and In-ho came home every day before you and made dinner. Your schedule was a bit more unpredictable. As an ER nurse, you tried whatever you could to get home on time, but mostly, you ended up at work until midnight. 

It was a hectic job, but you were used to it. Unlike some of your colleagues, nothing extreme had happened to you in years, the first and only time being when you were accidentally stabbed with a needle. Still, it was stressful, but In-ho made all of that anxiety go away the second you saw him.

Whenever you came home, your husband would smile, kiss you, and present the delicious dinner he had made you. You would then sit at the dinner table and talk about your days, sometimes for hours, into the early hours of the morning. Then, you would wake up and do it all over again.

Your friends remarked on how boring you and In-ho’s lives were, that there was no real excitement, and that you were just going through the motions. You couldn’t disagree more. You loved going through the motions, and waking up every day knowing what you would do, and that your husband would be waiting for you at home. The predictable joy was your paradise. In-ho would wonder too, questioning if this was what you wanted. He couldn’t imagine how someone like you would want to be with a boring policeman with a 9-5 job. You couldn’t explain it, didn’t need to, you just loved spending time with your husband.

Your wedding was small and cheap, in the worship hall of a local church on a Saturday afternoon. Your family didn’t have the money for a flight to attend, and you couldn’t afford to bring them to you. So, your family was replaced by your friends, and Jun-ho walked you down the aisle.

The reception was in your house, and you and In-ho had stayed up late the night before making food. It was the best day of your life, and your friends and family stayed up late eating in the basement of the church at folding tables.

That night, you and an In-ho made love for the first time (always a gentleman), and as you slept on his chest he promised you that he would do anything for you. Even if he couldn’t give you much in terms of nice clothes, or a nice apartment, he would make you as happy as he possibly could.

In the fifth year of your marriage, both your and In-ho’s careers became enormously stressful. The MERS outbreak in South Korea made your hospital one of the central trauma centers for victims, and In-ho received a promotion, giving him more and more hours away from home.

One day, during a long shift, you almost passed out. The hospital was loud and frantic, and you fell over in the middle of the ER, the voices and lights around you becoming a blur. You only were able to regain focus when a doctor grabbed you by your shoulders and screamed in your face, “Get the fuck up and treat your goddamn patients!” He screeched, the force of it causing spit to fly into your face.

Dazed, you got up and continued treating patients, pushing your brief pass-out back into your mind as just a brief fluke.

Over the next week, you were less and less hungry when In-ho would make food. He would look at you concerned, “Honey, is there something wrong with the food? I thought this soup was your favorite.” 

You offered a weak smile in return, “I love it In-ho, I just don’t have an appetite today. Sorry.”

He smiled back, “All alright, just let me know if I can do anything.”

Work got more hectic for both of you, and moments of exhaustion grew in you more and more, but all could likely be attributed to the stress of the job.

The nausea started a month after the exhaustion. At least once during a shift, you would have to run to a bathroom to throw up. After one especially hard day, where, with still six hours left in you had already thrown up three times, you called In-ho crying.

“In-ho.” You said through sobs.

Nothing else passed your lips, but immediately your husband broke out into a flurry of questions, “Honey, what’s wrong? Is everything okay, did something happen?” You could hear the panic in his voice as clearly as you could see it if he was standing right in front of you.

You didn’t say anything for a minute, just continued crying as you heard In-ho try to interject several times, but each time he stopped himself, waiting for you to say something.

You were just about the explain the situation when you heard someone knock on the door of the bathroom, “Nurse Hwang, are you in there?”

“Yes, I’ll be out in a minute.” You said, your hand shaking as you held the phone.

“We need you out here now, you can’t waste time in the bathroom.” Your coworker said. She was nice, and a recent graduate of college. Her inexperience and fear were evident, and while whatever problem she was facing was likely her responsibility, she would be torn to shreds by your boss if she didn’t do everything right, and you had to help her.

“In-ho, let’s talk when we get home.” You said, forcing your sobs back into your throat.

“(Y/n), wait-” You didn’t let him finish, hanging up now was already hard enough but if you let him talk longer it would only get worse.

The chaos of your shift only got worse and worse, and it was nearly 4 AM by the time you got home. You felt like death itself had risen and slapped you across the face.

In-ho was sitting at the table, his leg bouncing so hard you could feel the vibrations through the floor. “(Y/n), what’s wrong are you okay?!” He said, panic radiating off his skin as he reached up and grabbed your hands, searching his gaze up and down you.

You had called him earlier tonight, hadn’t you? But for some reason, the why just wasn’t there, “I- I called you earlier today, right?”

His brow furrowed in confusion, “yes, you were crying. I’ve been terrified for hours. What happened?”

You looked away from him, “I- I don’t remember.”

“What do you mean, you don’t remember? Honey, what’s going on?” He grabbed your shoulders, out of concern, and you winced away from him.

“Ow, that hurt.” You muttered, rubbing your shoulders.

The fear only seemed to grow in his eyes, “I didn’t grab you that hard I didn’t think. I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, it’s just been a long day.” You gave him a half-hearted smile, “can we just go to bed?

He frowned but nodded and gently wrapped you in a hug, “Of course, let’s sleep, and tomorrow we’ll see if you can remember.”

Nothing came to you in the morning, and when you took your shirt off to change into your scrubs, you noticed purple bruises on your shoulders from where In-ho had grabbed you the night before. 

“Honey, is everything all right in there, you’ve been changing for a while?” In-ho called in from the other room.

“Yeah- yeah, everything’s okay.” You put your shirt on, not telling In-ho so as to not upset him. You knew that he hadn’t grabbed you that hard, so you didn’t want to scare him with freak bruises.

In the next month, it became harder and harder to function. Your body constantly felt exhausted and weak and sore, and you almost never had an appetite. Sleep was rare to come by due to a constant itching feeling that would spread over your body.

The world felt blurry a lot of the time, you got more confused and forgetful at work and at home, and your bosses would tear into you more and more. It was difficult to bring anything up to In-ho, his schedule became so busy that you talked less and less, and you didn’t want to stress him out with problems that were likely just caused by a stressful job.

Whenever he would notice something, and ask you what was wrong, it felt like pieces of a puzzle that wouldn’t fit when you were answering. Your responses wouldn’t quite make sense, you would say something a little bit incorrect, or wouldn’t completely answer the question. Both you and In-ho were confused by it, but neither had the time nor energy to prod further.

Everything in your life was falling apart and getting worse and worse, but you felt too dazed most of the time. You couldn’t really think about everything happening, and it all just spiraled out of control.

In-ho awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of gagging. He stumbled out of bed, wondering if you had eaten something that upset your stomach.

“(Y/n)?” He asked as he walked to the bathroom, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw in front of you. You were crouched down on your hands and knees, a couple of feet in front of the toilet, throwing up. Throwing up near-black dark vomit.

“(Y/n)!” In-ho, in that moment, felt more terrified than he had ever before in his entire life. He ran over to you and crouched down on the ground next to you. Your entire body was shaking, and you kept throwing up. “(Y/n), what’s wrong? What’s happening? What’s going on?” He didn’t know what to do. No amount of disaster or emergency training he had received had prepared him for this moment.

You didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. He grabbed you in his arms, and you shook against his chest as he ran out of the apartment. He didn’t put on shoes, or a jacket. A broken bottle his neighbor dropped in the hallway cut his feet as he ran to the elevator, but he didn’t feel it. You were still throwing up on his chest and his fear for you was all he could focus on.

The car ride felt like it lasted hours. You were in the passenger seat, never stopping throwing up. His feet were cut up, and his white shirt was covered in blood.

He parked right in front of the ER you worked in, not pulling into a parking space. He carried you in his arms to the front desk, and all of the staff stared in shock for a brief moment at the sight of their coworker being carried by her husband, covered in blood. Within a quarter of a second that felt like an hour, they all rushed into action.

Someone took you out of his arms and placed you on a gurney, wheeling you into a trauma bay, while blood from In-ho’s feet followed you in a trail. Your eyes opened and shut, and you focused on your husband yelling your name, “(Y/n), (Y/n)!” As his face and voice faded in and out.

Part two will be out soon!

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 2

Hii! Here is the second chapter. I will post the chapters when the next one is either 50% or 90-100% ready, based on how long it has been. Hope you enjoy!

previous<< Chapter 2 >>next

Breakfast became awkward as soon as you shyly walked in, hunger beating the desire to stay hidden in your room- in hindsight, maybe you should have. They were chatting so eagerly, laughing. You wanted that too but as soon as you peeked through the door the noise stopped. It was like the first day of kindergarten. Lonely, your palms were sweating with anxiety, and- and you missed your mom.

You tried introducing yourself to Richard, but you were met with a hum and one singular glance, no interest from the older boy, your supposed brother. Bruce- you’d rather him not look at you at all. It was like he was trying to read your mind and dissect it.

By the time you had it in you to speak again, to try and create some bonds, it seemed like they couldn’t get away fast enough. They both looked so tired. You’d think they would have taken their time. Your eyes meet Alfred’s icy blues once the room is empty.

“Do they hate me?... Did I do something wrong?” Alfred’s whole body flinched at the question, unseen by the untrained eye. The old man felt pity, a bit of guilt for the way he, himself, acted. But the mask of indifference he’s been trained for years to keep took its place once more.

With a gentle hand, he did his best to soothe her worries. Bruce could never hate a kid, Alfred was sure… He hoped he was. Alfred shook his head- no, he shouldn’t doubt his child- Master Bruce. He shouldn’t doubt Master Bruce like that. He knows better. The old man cleared his throat. “Here, young miss. Master Bruce wanted you to have this. Just like Master Dick has.” His explanation of what and how to use the little black card and the modern phone came just as quickly as his try at making connections between the two kids.

“Giving a kid unsupervised access to so much money and the internet sounds like a bad idea.” Your mumbling made Alfred’s lip twitch. It was and he said as much, but it was what Master Bruce wanted, and what he wanted he got… usually.

And with that, Alfred left too. You understood why he left; he seemed to be the only employee. Taking care of such a big house all on your own must take all day, and to have to cook as well… Poor man, Bruce mustn’t like him very much either. He was old, ancient to your five-year-old self, maybe you could help with something.

After finishing your meal, you take the dishes and carefully put them in the sink. You wanted to wash them but sadly, the counter was taller than you. Instead, you focused on cleaning the table and pushing the chairs back into their place.

Bruce must have gone to work, and Richard to school. Your brows furrowed and your lips stuck out in a pout. You were supposed to go to kindergarten. Neither of the adults seemed worried about that, and you didn’t know how to get there either, so it must be a deliberate choice. Maybe it was closed. Or maybe they forgot.

Your feet carried you across the manor, from the withered garden to the many floors of the cold house, relying on the whispers from the shadows to know what door you can open, and which way you should go. They were leading you in a specific direction, you knew, but what else could you do but listen? Not like you had anything else to do or anywhere to be.

You stopped as soon as the shadows stopped whispering. The overlapping murmuring going silent made the room feel colder, and yet your amazement at the object before your eyes filled you with the warmth and hope you needed to survive another day. It was a simple thing, a painting.

A couple, a woman sitting on a chair and a man standing tall beside her. The position on any other would seem imposing, controlling even, but the hand on her shoulder wasn’t gripping her. It was a tender caress of care that reflected in the man’s face as a gentle smile and his eyes fixated on the woman, his wife. The painter did a great job of portraying the love and softness the man held for his beloved, as they did for the warmth in her smile and mischievously happy gleam in her eyes.

She was beautiful, full of life. Her dress was silky white. Must have been painted on the day of their wedding. She was the perfect picture of elegance as beautiful, shining pearls adorned her neck and the bottom of her dress, and yet… Her eyes seemed as sad as they were happy. She probably missed her mami too. You couldn’t imagine marrying someone and leaving your mom, but then again, you’re young and idealistic, dreaming of things that cannot be anymore.

You sat there for what felt like hours, taking in every little detail you could. You wanted to do this, to paint, to draw, to have your art hung for generations to see. Maybe you could fix the garden as well. Make it a beautiful background for your art, and a little something to make you feel useful. Now… how do you get back to your room?

The shadows seemed to giggle at how your demeanor soured once you realized how lost you actually were. Nevertheless, once they had their fun, they led you back to where you needed to be, gently nudging your tired little self back into the walls of your room. All that walking exhausted you so much, a nap was long overdue- you were sure they’d wake you up for lunch or dinner.

They never did. You woke up at one in the morning, more tired than when you went to sleep, and ten times hungrier and colder. Maybe they didn’t have dinner? The trash in the bin and half-chopped veggies in the fridge told a different story. It seems you’ll have to fend for yourself once more.

Tag List: @bat1212

[iholdwhatican]

tension

part two to reunions - must read part 1 first!

pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig

length: 3.2k

author's note: this took wayyyy too long for me to do yall, i'm so sorry. these two have a tight hold on me and i'm in the trenches. i've got some good stuff lined up tho, and i'm super excited to write it heeheehee :) also smut in the future will be much longer and much more detailed, just fyi

tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension ; sugar mommy y/n? ; unapologetic flirting with your bff's wife at his birthday party

warnings: sexual content, p in v, not super detailed but still there!

summary: the stressful night of the birthday party continues, and you find yourself pinging between art and patrick like a tennis ball. how the hell did you get yourself into this?

originally posted by iholdwhatican

It took four minutes and 36 seconds of Art and Patrick being alone outside before the anxiety became too much. Your dress was too tight against your skin and the chatter of the guests rattled in your skull. Your mind replayed the anger on Art’s face over and over, convinced that he’d direct it at you the moment he came back in. And if you were being honest, you couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. 

Your blood boiled with the ferocity of it, and an ache in your core begged for another taste. 

Another three minutes and 18 seconds passed while you downed half of your second glass of wine. You made conversation with a few people who caught your eye, making sure all the food and drink were up to par. Not that you really could care about that right now. Your mind was a jumble of thoughts about the two men on the balcony. 

Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick

“You look like you’re gonna puke.” 

For the second time that night, Patrick Zweig’s voice made you jump. 

You looked at him, catching sight of that damned smirk that made your stomach flip, and furrowed your brows. One quick scan of the room came up empty for your husband, forcing the anxiety in your chest to worsen. 

“Where’s Art?” You asked, not missing the way your voice wobbled slightly. 

“Relax.” Patrick responded, resting a hand on your shoulder, “He went to the kitchen, I think. I didn’t kill him. And he didn’t run for the hills either.” 

You decided not to comment on how easily he’d read your worries without you saying anything. For some reason, you were an open book to him. 

A deep sigh left you. You licked your lips anxiously- which immediately caused Patrick’s eyes to fall on your mouth. 

“What happened out there?” 

The man gave you a shrug, letting his hand fall back to his side, “Nothing, really. We just talked for a bit. He told me I could stay, as long as I stopped flirting with you.” 

“So does that mean you’re going to stop?” The idea made you slightly unhappy, which in turn filled you with guilt. Why were you so excited by his flirtations when you had a wonderful, loving husband who treated you like a queen? 

But then Patrick grinned, and you knew the answer before he said it, “Well, I’ve never been one to do what I’m told.” 

A smile grew over your lips, and you tried to hide it with an eye roll, “Why don’t you mingle? Try some food. I’m going to find my husband.” 

He didn’t miss the enunciation you put on ‘my husband’, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened as you said it. You didn’t give it time to linger, instead turning away and moving towards the kitchen. 

You knew the look Patrick had in his eyes. You’d seen it a dozen times in Art’s. On the court, over a board game, in all sorts of scenarios. And every time, even now, the look sent a chill down your spine. 

That expression was clear, resolute competition. 

Just as Patrick had said, you found Art in the kitchen. With his back to you, you had a perfect view of his tense shoulders and hanging head as he poured himself a glass of water. He was all wound up, and you knew it was your fault. Now it was your responsibility to fix it. 

You stepped up behind him, sliding a hand between his shoulder blades. He didn’t hesitate to lean into the touch, a subconscious reaction. He knew it was you just by the feel of your hand on him. And, even if he might be furious, he still found comfort in it. 

“Hey…” You breathed, leaning to the side to meet his gaze. Art looked at you over his shoulder, a half-smile quirking his lips up, “How are you doing?” 

“Hey.” He responded, turning and sliding his hands over your hips. Your chest pressed against his as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your hairline. Then he just lingered there, breathing in your smell, “I honestly don’t know. I just- it was so weird to see him.” 

“Yeah, of course it was.” Your words reached him in a soft, comforting tone. The guilt of putting your perfect, doting husband in this situation was enough to make you feel like you had barbed wire around your neck. You had to pay penance- somehow. You rubbed your hand in circles over his back, “I’m sorry, sundrop. I don’t know what I was thinking when I invited him.” 

Sundrop. A nickname that went way back to the early days of your relationship. Art was an energetic puppy dog with a halo of golden curls and a smile that made your insides feel hot. He was what you pictured a personification of the sun to be, hence the pet name. He pretended not to like it, but his eyes always sparkled a certain way when you said it. 

Art pulled his head away to peer down into your eyes, his own pensive and confused, “No, baby, don’t be sorry. It was a great fucking surprise. Just… a surprise.” 

You shook your head. He was so fucking good to you, “You’re allowed to be mad at me.” 

“Mad? At you?” In one quick motion, he picked you up and set you on the counter. Your legs opened for him without hesitation, allowing him to slot right in between them, “I don’t think that’s possible.”

You fought the blush rising in your cheeks and rolled your eyes, “You think too highly of me.” 

“No. Never.” He replied instantly. He kissed your chin. Then your jaw. Then your neck. Then down your throat, “As far as I’m concerned, you’re God.” 

“Art-” You argued, though you weren’t sure what for. You tilted your neck back and offered yourself up to him. 

“I could spend my life on my knees for you and be happy.” His words were muffled as he mouthed at your neck, sending shivers down your spine. This, combined with the kiss from earlier, was making you ache with need. You were half-tempted to end the party early and take your pretty husband to bed. 

You bit your lip when he ran his tongue over a sensitive spot above your collarbone. If he wasn’t in between them, you’d be squeezing your thighs together. 

When Art pulled away, his eyes had darkened. Dilated pupils and heavy breaths told you all you needed to know. He was just as fucking horny as you were right now. His hands held your hips tighter. 

“Do you think we’d be left alone long enough for me to show you how much I mean it?” He asked. It was almost as if he were begging. As if he couldn’t bear the idea of doing anything other than dropping to his knees and devouring you. 

And God, when he looked at you like that, you had no choice but to say yes. 

Unfortunately, fate intervened, and you were kept from making a scene at your husband’s birthday party. 

“Hey, you two, quit snogging and come entertain us!” One of Art’s tennis friends called, sticking their head into the kitchen. The big grin on their face told you it was just teasing, but you still felt your face burning with embarrassment. 

“It’s my birthday, let me do what I want.” Art jeered right back, lifting you off the counter and back onto your own two feet. You laughed airily at the comment, feeling more light-headed than anything. 

Before following his friend back into the action, he whispered a quick, “Later, okay?” to you. And then he left you standing in the kitchen- touch-starved, foggy-headed, and excruciatingly aroused. 

It was then that you realized you didn’t even get to ask him what happened with Patrick.

Upon re-entering the party, you found yourself taking note of two things- or rather, two people. One, Art- conversing with some friends from the foundation with a big grin on his face. Two, Patrick- having his fill of finger foods from the refreshment table. He was alone. And though you tried to fight it, you found yourself gravitating towards him. 

“Do they not have food where you’re from?” You teased, falling into place at his side. Your gaze slid over the spread before flicking up to his face. 

You’d caught him mid-bite, and he attempted to swallow quickly and regain his composure. Something warmed slightly in your chest. Endearing. 

“Well, I’m kinda… in between places right now.” He explained, tongue stuck in his cheek to clear out residual bits of food, “And there’s never stuff as good as this.” 

You let the compliment slide away, instead focusing on his more troubling response, “Are you homeless?” 

“What? No.” He chuckled, as if the question were preposterous, “I go all over for tennis. It’s just easier to stay on the move.” 

You raised an eyebrow, “And on off-season?” 

Something in his expression darkened, only for a moment, and then he was back to cocky smiles and overwhelming confidence, “I’m too busy to care about that. And what’s it matter to you, anyway?” 

“I’d like to think I’m a good person.” You said, plucking a snack off the table and popping it into your mouth. You chewed it halfway before continuing, “And a good person worries if they think someone they care about isn’t doing well.” 

Patrick grinned at you for five long seconds. And it took him actually saying the words to realize where you’d slipped up. 

“You care about me?” 

Shit. You had not meant to say that. Why was this man so damn good at getting every little thought in your head to spill out of your mouth? 

“If caring about you means I don’t want you sleeping under a bridge somewhere, then sure.” 

“Okay, I would never let it get that far-” 

“I wanna help.” 

He blinked, “Help how?” Briefly, very briefly, you thought of your bed. Your comfortable, spacious bed, perfect for three individuals. You could picture it- you, safe and sound and nestled between the two men. Art, your lovely, obedient husband on one side, letting himself love and be loved. And Patrick on the other side, nice and cozy with a roof over his head and a full belly. 

The image flashed in an instant, and you were left with hollow, heavy guilt. You swallowed. 

“How much do you need?” 

“Huh?” You rolled your eyes at him, “How much money do you need? To keep you afloat for the next little while. And I’ll send you home tonight with leftovers.” 

Patrick let the words wash over him, slowly smiling as they did. He took a step towards you, close enough that one tiny shove would have your bodies pressed together. You could smell him, all sweat and cigarettes and woodsy cologne that made your head spin. You’d been wound up all night, and this was absolutely not helping. 

“You gonna write me a check? Use your hard-earned money to get a practical stranger a hotel for a couple nights?” He murmured, heavy on the charm, “What would your husband think?” 

He knew he’d gotten under your skin. He knew what he was doing. He was fucking enjoying this. 

You tried to hold your ground, looking up at him through your lashes, “It’s his money, actually. He makes sure I never have to work unless I want to.” 

“Guess he treats you pretty well. And look how you’re taking advantage of it.” His hand lay on the table next to yours, his fingertips nearly brushing the skin of your wrist. How bad would it be if you closed the gap? 

You bit your lip, “You’re allowed to turn me down.” 

“I don’t think I’d ever turn you down, Mrs. Donaldson.” 

Something about that title, something about the way he said it, made your blood run hot and cold at the same time. It reminded you of the myths of sirens. Beautiful monsters of the sea that used their voices to bring others to their demise. Talking to Patrick had that same type of allure, and the sense of danger. 

“Then tell me what you need.” 

“What do you think I need?” 

Oh, you could think of a few things. But you could also feel a pair of eyes on you, and you knew exactly who they belonged to. Part of you wanted to tempt him, see if you could get another reaction like out on the balcony. However, you quickly shot the idea down. Not right now, not in the middle of a crowded party.

Lips curving into an innocent smile, you pushed yourself a step back from him, “I think you need a nice place to sleep. And a few good meals. And maybe a hug.” 

The sudden switch-up took Patrick by surprise, but he handled it smoothly and responded only a beat later, “You’re offering?” 

“At least for the first two.” You didn’t know what you’d do if you were in his arms. With the way you were feeling now, with two glasses of wine in your system, your boundaries were getting blurrier and blurrier. How humiliating. 

His bottom lip jutted out into a pout. Which unfortunately dragged your gaze right down to his mouth. It took you a moment too long to meet his eyes again. 

“What, we can’t hug? Don’t you consider me a friend?” 

“I do.” You shrugged, tucking loose hair behind your ear, “Maybe I’m just not a touchy person.” 

A lie. You knew it, and you could tell by the look on his face that he knew it too.

“Yeah.” He smirked, sounding the opposite of sincere, “Art’s wife isn’t a touchy person. Sure.” 

You needed a cold shower. Or to go have some one-on-one time with your vibrator. Or maybe move to the seaside and spend your days going mad in a lighthouse. You weren’t sure. All you knew was how increasingly hot you were feeling. 

“Speaking of Art, go talk to him. Try to make amends. Meet some of his friends.” You suggested, glancing over at your husband. He wasn’t watching you anymore, at least not straight on. But he had a radar when it came to you, and he was very diligent in keeping tabs. No matter what.

“You trying to get rid of me?” Patrick asked lightly. No heat behind the words. 

“Oh, yes.” You admitted, placing your hands on his shoulders and pointing him towards Art, “Find me again before you leave and I’ll have your check.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned at you over his shoulder, sending a wink before sauntering off. 

Finally, you felt like you could actually get a breath in your lungs. 

The party had ended. Guests went home, Patrick got his check and headed to a hotel you recommended, and you and your partner left all the cleanup for the morning. You barely gave it a second glance as you went up to bed with him, your hand held tightly in his. 

Art fucked you like a starving man that night. You barely got into the room before his lips were plastered on your skin, his hands unzipping your dress with quick precision. He was usually much more reserved, but something about tonight had made him ravenous. And he wasn’t the only one.

You ended up on his lap; bare chests pressed together, skin sweaty and breaths heavy as you rolled your hips into him. His hands clutched your thighs, keeping you close, fingers pressing into the flesh. You pulled on his hair and his head immediately fell back. As if he were a puppet for you to position and use however you wanted. His eyes looked up at you with a fire in them you’d never seen before, but the adoration, the reverence, was all too familiar. 

Your name fell from his lips over and over again like a prayer. The single word weaved with threads of devotion, possessiveness, desire. A song joined in chorus by whatever nonsensical phrase entered his head. I love you, so perfect, all mine, please, please, please. 

He was claiming you. Marking his territory in his own special way. It didn’t matter that Patrick wasn’t here to see it, or that he probably would never even know. As long as Art could tell himself that you were his, he’d be okay. Jealousy was a good look on him. 

You could feel your core tighten with each and every movement of his hips against you. You weren’t going to last much longer. But by the look in your husband’s eyes, neither was he. 

Parted lips claimed yours in a messy kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth and exploring every open space. Then you were being flipped over; back pressed into the mattress as Art rocked into you with reckless abandon. He intertwined his fingers with yours and pinned your hands above your head without ever breaking the kiss. 

You lasted about thirty seconds. Finally, the tension in you snapped and your orgasm washed over you in waves, leaving you limp and trembling. Art finished only a moment later. You could feel him pulsing inside of you as the aftershocks slowly faded away. The room reeked of sweat and sex and your head was spinning. 

Art, your precious, dutiful man, rested his head on your chest as he attempted to catch his breath. You could feel the tickle of his lips kissing your skin, the soft squeeze of his hands on your hips. You ran a hand through his damp hair, fingers massaging his scalp. 

“I love you.” He murmured against your ribs, right over your thundering heart. He said it like he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed, like he didn’t believe you were here, that you were his. 

Dark hair and cigarette smoke flashed through your mind. Almost-touching hands and paper checks. 

“I love you.” You responded, kissing his hairline, “Happy Birthday, baby.” 

The only response you got was a tired, happy sound and another kiss to your collarbone. A quick adjustment later and the two of you were tucked under the blankets, your head on Art’s chest and his arm around you. Neither of you cared enough to clean yourselves up or to put pajamas on. Art was already softly snoring next to you, and you could feel your eyelids getting heavy.

As you listened to the baddump of his heart, a strange thought flitted through your mind. You’d just had the best sex of your life, and it was because of Patrick. You weren’t the only one who’d been thinking of him while in the throes of passion. The notion made something strange twinge in your gut. 

And then, like he’d somehow read your mind, your phone lit up with a text. 

Patrick Zweig: You free for lunch tomorrow?

***

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[crybaby-bkg]

Flying the Coop

Gojo and Getou were supposed to love you as much as they loved each other. You even let them turn you into a vampire, so that you could all stay together forever. So why do you still feel like such an outsider?

Warnings: vampirism, human reader turned to a vampire, being referred to as nestling and little one, emotional manipulation, guilt tripping, coercion, cunnilingus, ass play, reader referred to as she/her, double penetration in one hole, cervix fucking, and lots of blood and biting. please let me know if I forgot anything and please enjoy!!

Word Count: 4.8k

Also available on Ao3!

Minors/blank/ageless blogs DNI!

Fuck Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru. You didn’t need them anymore than they needed you, which wasn’t at all. They might’ve been the oldest vampires in the area, probably on earth, but you didn’t give a single fuck if they were only going to treat you like a pet. Not as an equal, despite your newly turned status, but as something they could gawk at and fuss over before pushing away to the end of the bed. Before you became something to grow tired of, before they fell back into each other, their love centuries older than you could ever comprehend, before you could ever fully mesh into their daily lives. 

As a human, you had been drawn to them since you were young and had heard tales of the devils living on the top of the hill. How they never grew old, how some of the townsfolk had gone missing over the years, how they only ever appeared at night, seemingly stepping right out of the shadows. But you weren’t scared of them; you never were. 

Although, you do tremble when you go knocking on their door one night, entire body lit up in anxiety and anticipation and worry for whether or not you’ll make it to the next morning. You try to hold your chin up high when the door creaks open ever so slowly—they always had a thing for the dramatics—and find two pairs of curious eyes meeting you on the other side. 

You ask to be their familiar, claiming to know what they are, how shitty they are at hiding it since you guys aren’t in the eighteenth century anymore. You fear that you might’ve said too much, become too snippy with such ancient beings, but they only laugh at you. Satoru did, especially, with his alarmingly bright blue eyes and shock of white hair, holding his stomach with his hand as he let out an almost screech of a laugh. Suguru had joined him with a smaller chuckle, shaking his head, his untied hair falling in thick strands across his face. 

And without much further preamble, do they let you in. Agree to let you become their familiar, even though they claim to not have had one in centuries, as humans lives are just so unnecessarily short. You should’ve known then that they were up to something, that the plan in the long run was never to keep you as a human pet. No, you were far too interesting, too new, too shiny, too pretty, for them to ever want to let you go. 

Five years into being Satoru and Suguru’s familiar, do they turn you into a vampire alongside them. You tell yourself that you wanted the transformation, but you start to think back on the idea now, wonder if it was ever an original thought, question when the idea first popped up on its own without their influence. The idea was always pretty cool to you; you could develop different and unique powers, you would be super fast, have pretty long fangs which was definitely a plus, but—

But you never truly wanted this for yourself, did you? A lonely nobody, exiled from their family for wanting to live with devils, turned away from by the people who used to love you when you were small. And now you had to walk the earth alone for the rest of your days, killing the people who used to look just like you, who you used to share bread with, spill blood together. And now, here you are; stealing it like the air from their lungs, greedy, your belly never truly full, always just on the precipice of starvation. 

Suguru says this stage will past eventually, that you’re just a nestling for now, still always hungry, still wanting to feed from its mothers mouth. But you have never known starvation to be so consuming, that all you can think about is filling your mouth with hot blood until it pools from your lips, only to follow the trail with your tongue until there are no traces left. 

You never really wanted to be a vampire, did you? You never wanted to live forever, to have to see all of your favorite people die, to learn to love new ones, just for them to leave you as well. You never wanted to hide in the shadows—the sun feels so good on your skin, its warmth, its softness a comfort against flesh that welcomed its heat. You miss the sun. You miss being able to go out during the day and laugh with others that didn’t cower at the mere sight of you. 

Satoru says this stage will pass eventually, that you’re just a nestling for now, still always yearning for a life that never served you any good. He tells you that you’ll learn to appreciate your new body, tells you how overrated the sun is, that being able to walk the streets at night without fear is better than any warmth the sun could give you. Besides, he had said, if you need warmth, I know a few ways to heat up the body? 

The undead body, you had to remind him, that never once inched up in temperature, that was always just a touch too icy for your liking when you were still human. And now look at you; as cold as them, thirstier than you’ve ever been in your entire life. It was selfish. The entire act of turning you was selfish. 

But at least you all could be a couple now, right? At least you would finally be one of them, on their level, despite the seemingly eons amount of distance of age between you and the other immortals? You would finally be more than just a pet, right? Right? 

How desperate you were to be right. How terrible that you couldn’t be more wrong. 

You were always just a plaything for them. Something they promised held an equal amount of weight in the relationship, but you were nothing more than a shared pup, something for them to love on and fuck and nuzzle against, but never something permeant, something more concrete. 

They had laughed at your outburst, only a few weeks after being turned. How your eyes had gone red and you started floating from the floor, your mouth stretched wide and your fangs bared so long. You only looked like a child throwing a temper tantrum, your fangs mere baby teeth that they couldn’t wait to coo over after ripping them from your head. 

“Little nestling,” Suguru had cooed, arms stretched open from where he sat on the expansive love seat, a tiny smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “Stop making such a fuss and come lay down. You’ll tire yourself out much too quickly.” 

It was like you were talking to a brick wall, one that only ever viewed you as something tiny and petulant. Like you could be soothed by being cradled, rocked to sleep and easily taken care of, like your outburst and anger was simply a reason of your near constant hunger. Like you were less than them. (But you always have been, haven’t you? You’ve only ever been something so new and fresh and tiny? Never quite equal? Never quite measuring up?) 

“Cmon, little one,” Satoru had cooed next, his tone dripping in sarcasm, as he, too, opened his arms in invitation, mocking. “Come lay with mommy and daddy so we can make you feel better.” 

You could only stand there, floating back down to the floor as your anger washed away from you. A cold feeling sunk in instead, something detached, something so hurt and broken, that every unnecessary inhale felt like a sharp stab to your lungs. Their bickering about who was mommy and who was daddy fell on deaf ears, your eyes fading back to a normal color as you slowly turn away from them. 

They don’t even notice you’re gone, until your scent is only a lingering smell lingering by the front doors that you’ve left open. You hadn’t taken anything but the clothes on your back as you left, both hurt and angry that they didn’t come after you. That they let you wander for weeks and weeks alone. 

That was the curse of vampirism, wasn’t it? Needing companionship? Needing someone to be by your side? So why did they need you? Why make you when they already had each for so fucking long—why drag you into their arms, why hold onto you so tight, why—why did they let you go so easily? Why didn’t they fight for you? 

No other vampire would care for you as much as they did, not with their scent permanently mingled in with your own. Satoru and Suguru were some of the oldest, most strongest vampires to have ever walked the earth. Every other vampire knew not to fuck with them, nor the things that they staked claim on. It only made immortal life harder. 

You were still just a nestling, determined to prove yourself a fledgeling but—but hunting was so hard. You rarely had to do it on your own, always had Satoru catch the humans, Suguru dispose of the body. Now you had to do all of that without getting caught, without making too much of a scene wherever you went. You couldn’t—you couldn’t do it. 

Admitting defeat hurt more than you had expected it to, but you couldn’t remember the last time you ate, and you were only growing weaker by the days. Suguru found you, on the verge of being swallowed whole by the sun, laying on their front door steps, hand still posed midair to knock, too weak from hunger to do anything but lay there and die. 

Suguru only chuckled at the sight of you. Scooped up your limp body as if you weighed nothing, tutting at you the entire time under his breath, but you could just barely make out his smile. 

“Look at what I found decaying by our front door,” Suguru said after climbing the many steps, depositing you on the end of the bed that Satoru laid on, the curtains drawn to swallow the room in darkness. He lays you down gently, his touch cold, your body stiff, your stomach curling in on itself with hunger. 

“It took you too long to come home, little one.” Satoru had pouted, slithering down the bed until he hovered above you. He noted your chapped lips and faded eyes, how you kept easing in and out of consciousness. He smiled at the weak sight of you, holding his hand out as Suguru pattered over to the other side of the room, opening up the glass case that held too much blood for only two—three—vampires. Suguru hummed softly to himself as he poured a nice, heavy glass, passing it to Satoru as he sat beside your head, the blue eyed man grinning above you. 

“Do you want to feed, little one?” Satoru asks softly when you’re conscious enough to focus on his gaze, having the nerve to look just a tad bit scared, hopeless. You can only pout your lips the way you know he likes, always the one to concede so easily to your wishes. But Suguru tuts from beside you, positioning your head in his lap as he helps you sit up ever so slightly, Satoru pressing the rim of the cup to your lips. But he doesn’t tilt it, keeps the sweet smelling blood so close, yet so far from reach. You’re too weak to grab it for yourself, always so dependent on them, just the way they like it. 

“Then you have to promise to never, ever leave us again, little nestling.” Suguru says quietly, but his voice is firm. He holds your jaw tight in his hands, stops you from even getting a drip of blood between the cracks of your lips. He waits until you look up at him, his eyes a deep plum, his mouth set in a thin line. 

“Do you promise?” Satoru asks softly, teasing the cup to his own mouth, a threat to take it all away if you don’t comply, conform to their fucked up family where your only role is to always be chosen second. 

“I promise.” You croak out, coughing from the dryness of your throat, already starting to fade out of consciousness again from the lack of eating in so long. 

“Good,” Suguru hums, finally easing his grip from your jaw to allow Satoru to tip the cup to your mouth. “We’ll make a blood promise then.” 

You’re not sure if you hear the last part correctly, too busy wincing at how your fangs burst from your gums, how they bite into the glass cup that Satoru pours into your mouth. You try to sit up on your own, take the cup from him, but Suguru only nestles you into his grip, nuzzling you against his stomach, Satoru holding firm on the cup, controlling just how much you guzzle down second by second. 

“Poor little nestling,” Satoru coos with a chuckle. “Couldn’t even hunt on her own for a few weeks. You still can’t even hold your neck up by yourself, little one.” He presses gentle, soft kisses to the roundness of your cheek, watching the way you quickly start to gather your strength with every passing second, every swallow of the thick nectar. 

“But that’s okay, right, Satoru?” Comes Suguru’s teasing voice, running a finger down the slope of your neck, holding his palm there to feel the way you swallow. “She’ll never be able to leave us again. Our very own little nestling to take care of.” 

“Its time for us to take care of our little one now, don’t you think?” Satoru asks, pulling away the now empty cup, taking in the panting sight of you. You look so much like you did the day you left, all pouty and confused, wanting to be so big and strong on your own, not knowing that the umbilical cord was never actually cut. 

When you don’t answer, Satoru tilts your chin up to face him, Suguru dipping his head down to trace the faint lines of blood that escaped from the corners of your mouth with the tip of his tongue. You try to bite back a whimper, feeling much more like prey than you ever have, even when you were still human. 

“So weak and depleted.” Suguru hums, pulling you into his lap as he eases both himself and you to lay against the pillows at the top of the bed. He cradles your body against his own, your upper half curled toward him to lap at the blood that coats your teeth, your tiny little fangs. You pull away ever so slightly to watch Satoru crawl up the bed in front of you, akin to a snow leopard, all deadly predator with that glint in his eyes, with the way his smile curls up deviously at the corners. 

“What do you think, baby?” Satoru asks, but you’ve never had much choice in this relationship, have you? You nod, only to appease them, but you know they would’ve taken what they wanted anyway, in the end. And what they want—what they’ve wanted from you—was your pleasure. Even if it meant they never got off, even if it meant they would miss out on days and days of sleep just to torture you with their mouths and hands and cocks—its all they’ve ever wanted. 

Was it boredom, that had settled into their relationship? Is that why they had changed things up, brought you along with them? To be some plaything? To keep you needy and dependent on them, because what other vampires would worship you the way they did? What other vampires would spoil you? Hunt for you, clean for you, and fuck you nice and heavy after until you were drunk on being full, in more ways than you could count? 

So you lay there, and you take it. Let them do whatever they want to you, because they’ve always known whats best for you, more than you ever have for yourself, haven’t they? 

Suguru strips off his shirt as Satoru peels your own dirtied and tattered layers from your skin until you’re bared in front of them. Suguru guides your head to his chest, his nipple grazing your mouth as he forces your lips open, prying them apart with thick fingers. 

“You’ll need some of my blood, little nestling, to heal even faster.” He tells you, grazing his thumb on your elongated fangs until his skin splits open, dripping a few droplets of crimson into your mouth. “Bite me, right here, and feed.” 

You’re too high on the addictive taste of such old, powerful blood to care that he’s directing you to bite him right over his nipple, to suckle from his chest like the babe he’s always looked at you as. You’re too high on the taste of him to care about the sight you make; your head cradled in the thick bicep of his arm, his hair untied and casting a shadow over your face, his thumb caressing your cheek as you suckle around his nipple until his blood leaks from the corners of your mouth. 

Satoru only chuckles under his breath at the sight as he settles himself between your thighs, sticky and soft from the aphrodisiac that flows in Suguru’s blood. It was one of the special powers he was gifted after being turned so long ago, a secret that only the two of them share. It makes moments like these all the more intoxicating, knowing that you’ll be begging for both of them in mere minutes. 

Satoru bites you without warning, his thicker, longer fangs seemingly touching bone from how deep they reside in your skin. You whimper at the feeling, unable to pull away from Suguru’s chest as you grip the soft locks of Satoru’s hair. He bites from your stomach, to your inner thighs, your mound. His lips pull back from his teeth as he hovers over your swelling clit, in threat, in promise, laughing under his breath when you grip his hair even tighter and cry out around Suguru’s breast. 

“I’m only kidding, little one,” Satoru teases, pressing a bloody kiss to your folds, wet and loud and smacking. Your hips jerk slightly in response, body relaxing ever so slowly as you continue to swallow mouthfuls of Suguru’s blood, your head feeling light and heavy as the pleasure overcomes you. 

“So sensitive,” Suguru notes as he plucks your nipple from where he cradles you, how you whine in response, how you push your hips toward Satoru’s waiting, red mouth. 

He licks you, from your wet little hole to the tip of your clit, and when that isn’t enough, he repositions you until your thighs rest on his shoulders. Your ass doesn’t even touch the bed anymore, and thats the way he likes it, as Satoru carves a path from your rim to the top of your cunt. He licks you like that again and again until you’re dripping, slick and blood sliding from your pelvis to messy onto the old and expensive sheets beneath you. 

“Did you miss this, little nestling?” Suguru asks, cupping your cheek so that you could blink up at him through thick, fluttering lashes. Your lips are swollen from how much you’ve drunk from him, mouth red and pretty, draining him so much, but he can’t help but indulge you just a bit more. His baby, his sweet little thing. 

“How about this?” Satoru asks when you don’t answer fast enough, sucking your clit into his mouth as if the nub fills the entirety of it. He sucks at your clit the same way you’ve seen him suck Suguru’s cock; like its a mouthful, like the tip of it hits the back of his throat. But the pleasure is too good to complain, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as your hips cant against his face, mouth falling away from Suguru’s tit. 

“Yes,” you pant, holding onto Satoru’s hair as he swallows thickly like your clit fills his mouth, holding your hips steady to fuck the throbbing little thing against his thick tongue. “Missed you both so much. S’sorry, I’m so sorry for leaving,” you slur, blood still thick and heavy against your teeth and gums, but they only coo at the desperate sight of you. 

“Poor baby,” Suguru mockingly pouts, slipping his fingers into your mouth, coated in his own blood, fucking them down your throat. You can’t stop your gagging, nor does Suguru want you to, his cock throbbing at the way your throat closes around his digits. He fingers your fang as he pulls his own out, gripping it between his forefinger and thumb, a threat. 

“You know, bad nestlings usually get their fangs ripped out by their sires when they disobey.” Suguru says softly, so easily, you would’ve thought that he was confessing his undying love to you with that tone. You want to panic, you tell yourself to get up, rip yourself away from them, save yourself, but you feel too good to do anything but lay there. You’re so close to coming; Satoru’s tongue feels so good against your clit, Suguru’s fingers stuff your mouth so good. 

“What do you think, Satoru?” He asks, tipping your head back with his grip on your fang, leaning down to ghost his own over the swell of your cheek. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper around his finger in your mouth, your voice lost beneath the slurping of Satoru against your clit, the teasing words of Suguru. 

“Be nice, Suguru,” the blue eyed man says quickly before attaching himself back to your clit, lashing his tongue against the swollen and fat bud. 

“Always so easy and quick to forgive, hmm?” Suguru teases, still not letting go of your fang, still holding you on the precipice of explosion. When he pulls ever so slightly, and when Satoru sucks your clit harshly into his mouth, do you finally tip over the edge. Cum so hard that your entire body spasms, your cries loud and echoing in the quiet house, trembling all over until you suck in a breath that you don’t need. 

As you come down from your high, you feel them moving you, rearranging you until you’re nestled between them, Satoru at your front as he kisses you sloppily with wetted lips. Suguru presses open mouthed kisses along your nape and shoulders, biting every so often just to hear you exhale shakily. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble after a few seconds of silence, burying your face in Satoru’s chest. He hums, rubbing at your flank as he positions your thigh to hook over his own, Suguru nuzzling in closer as you feel his cock poke at your inner thigh. You should’ve known that this wasn’t over yet, that they wouldn’t let you off so easily with just one orgasm. It was barely morning yet. For your insolence, you’d be lucky if they let you free anytime in the next month. 

“Show us how sorry you are by taking both of us at the same time,” Satoru whispers into your hair, his own cock sliding against Suguru’s as they fight for the space between you. You open your mouth to agree; its nothing new, letting them fuck you at the same time, one in your pussy, the other in your ass. But only then do you realize, that they mean in the same hole at once. 

“I-I don’t—”

“I thought you were so remorseful about leaving us all high and dry for so long?” Suguru asks from behind you, sliding his cock between your slick lips. 

“I am, but you guys haven’t even prepped me,” you’re cut off again by Satoru this time, who rubs his tip against Suguru’s, your slick the lube for them. 

“This new body of yours adjusts and heals so much faster than your old one. Why not try it out now?” He asks, tilting your head up so that you’re fully consumed by his gaze, by the blood that still stains his mouth, the brightness of his eyes in the dark room. 

You’re not sure you’re even allowed to say no. 

So you let them do whatever they please with you, as you always have, so dependent on their word and how well they’ll take care of you. It hurts, the way they stretch you, both pushing inside of your too small cunt at the same time. You cry out that it won’t fit, that one of them should’ve entered first then the other, that your ass is still an option. But they ignore you, kissing each other over your head, swallowing their own moans and gasps of pleasures as their cocks kiss inside of you, nestled much too close to your cervix. 

You feel like your entire lower half is ripping and splitting itself into two from the painful stretch; Satoru’s cock is so long, Suguru’s is so thick. You think you can taste them in the back of your throat when they finally settle both of their cocks inside of you, filling you to the brim. Vampires can’t cry, they can’t breathe, but you take a wet, shuddering inhale as you bury your face into Satoru’s neck, wrapping your arms around him as you struggle to adjust. 

But then, Suguru’s bleeding wrist is thrust in front of your face, and your head is so light, you don’t think twice before drinking from him. Letting his essence flow into you, how it suddenly makes the pain subside into something pleasurable, how you suddenly feel like two cocks stuffed in your hole is just enough. 

“Fuck me,” you whisper when Suguru gently pries his wrist from your mouth, smearing the still leaking blood against Satoru’s parted lips. He licks them, grinning, giving Suguru a knowing look over your head as they communicate silently. 

Satoru moves first, quick and much too harsh if you were still a human. You were sure you’d break if so, with the way his claws dig into your sides and how he pistons his hips much too fast for any regular eye to see. Suguru follows him at his own pace, leisurely, but deep, his tip kissing against your cervix with every thrust, until you’re sure he’s close to fucking into your womb. 

The differences of their paces is otherworldly, makes your crying out and moaning a jumbled mess of chords amongst their own noises. Sometimes they’re both inside of you at the same time, their tips fighting to press against your cervix at once, and other times, only Satoru’s tip is inside while Suguru nuzzles deep inside of you. The differences of their sizes makes your head spin, feeling like they’re touching you everywhere, inside and out. 

Satoru’s mouth is on yours; Suguru’s stealing you from him, his fangs pressed against your tongue; Satoru reaches around to push a finger inside of your ass with a bloodied and slicked digit; Suguru presses around to rub your clit with thick fingers, stuffing an extra finger in your already full hole just to feel you tighten up around them even more. They’re mean, laughing at your whimpers and cries, using you again and again until you burst around them, squirting all over their cocks, making an even bigger mess on the already ruined sheets. 

“Fuck, I missed feeling you cum on our cocks,” Satoru moans, scissoring two fingers inside your ass as Suguru keeps fingering at your clit, making your hips jerk and spasm as you try to claw your way out of their grips. 

“Cmon, you got one more in there for us, don’t you, little one?” Suguru teases, laughing when you vigorously shake your head and claw at his arm, drawing more blood to messy the three of you. They don’t take you seriously though, knowing that they’ll force it out of you if need be. 

And they do exactly that; fucking you, touching you everywhere, with their mouths, their hands, their cocks, until you cum again, squeezing them so hard that they reach their own peaks. Neither of them pull out, filling you up so thickly with their cum, you think you can taste it in the back of your throat. Your stomach feels heavy, as you imagine it bloating from how much they spill inside of you, both biting at different parts of your body as they spill rope after thick, hot rope of cum inside your aching pussy. 

And even then, when you’re spent and aching and tired and dripping with more cum than you thought possible; its not enough. Nothing has ever satisfied them, and you’re not sure if anything ever will. Not until you break for them, just so they could build you back up, put your pieces back together again. Only then are you sure, that you’ll finally be enough for them and their greed.  

thank you all so much for reading! likes/reblogs/comments/asks are so greatly appreciated ♥️

[volturissideslut]

Hello!! Can you please do a yandere Marcus x stubborn human reader who’s a shield like Bella so when Marcus kidnaps her, they can’t use Chelsea or Corins gifts on her and she tries to escape multiple times which increases Marcus’s anxiety about her safety so he locks her up in the tower with Sulpicia and Athenodora. She stops talking to him when he comes to visit and finally Marcus falls to his knees begging for a chance and she ignores him, so Athenodora and Sulpicia explain his past to her. She feels sad and gives him a chance in return he has to let her have her own room and not in the tower. He reluctantly agrees and she slowly becomes more affectionate with him. Maybe height difference+ cute ending🥰please ignore if you don’t like it!!! Thank you!! 🫶🏻

𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖚𝖘 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎

"I am not a bird Marcus! You cannot expect to cage me and have me stay willingly" you huff from the other side of the room at him, too angry to allow him into your space. It had been an immediate adjustment, having gone from having your own place and freedom, to being confined to the hallways of the castle, and now locked in this one teeny (roomy, but the walls became suffocating in the long hours) tower.

"I do not intend to cage you, but you are so infuriating! How is it you attempt to escape from a fortress of vampires and not be caught, just to walk around the town willy nilly? It is not safe for you to wander. It is not safe for you to leave here. I am your mate and my duty is protecting you, and so you shall remain here" his glare is cold and it makes you wonder what warmth you might have imagined in him when you first met.

"And what if i don't want to be your mate, hm? What if i'm happier gone?" A step too far perhaps. He marches from his place up to you, invading your space completely. His nose brushes against yours, and though his touch may be delicate the fury in his eyes sure isn't.

The silence is palpable, the only noise in the room being your heavy pent-up breathing. He towers above you, head tilted down, and all your eyes see is the pitch blackness of his. Oh how you've angered him.

Your mouth goes dry, tongue dropping, and heart beating. "I'm sorry Marcus, I didn't mean-"

"Don't ever doubt my intention with you, Tesoro" the pet name seems more acidic than before, yet his forehead pushes against yours oh so sweetly. "I will tear down covens to bring you joy, burn the world for your mere satisfaction. I will not risk your safety. You want out of this tower? Fine. Come back to our chambers and play by the rules." The vibration of his voice has she almost in shivers. Perhaps with brazen lust of a deeply connected fear.

Heart in throat, you nod- not once breaking eye contact with the inky black of his. "i'll come back" your voice is a whisper, delicate like this moment as you watch him physically relax. He straightens up, now towering a whole head above you. "and i don't doubt you"

And for the first time in weeks, since you first tried hopping out a window to visit some stalls, you see his face relax and a small smile grace him.

Marcus leans over, a chaste kiss pressed into your lips. "Good" his eyes close, and he lets out a silent breath of relief.

"But we should talk about assigning me a guard, so that i might be able to have some freedoms at least?"

"If that is what keeps you with me" his head is in the crook of your neck, much like an overstimulated cat hiding with their chosen person. And you let the moment last, him getting affection the two of you had starved yourselves of for a week.

[secretlysimpash]

It's canon that König has severe social anxiety. He's suffered from it throughout his entire life. As someone with severe anxiety (social + generalized), I have some thoughts and headcanons (everything after this lil blurb is not 100% canon).

Okay so I know I said all of these aren't 100% canon but may I draw your attention to this:

"Inability to stay still". Severe anxiety can and will make someone fidgety as fuck (speaking from experience). So he definitely still fidgets when he's not completely in the zone. Leg bouncing, messing with his gloves or the hem of his mask/hood, constant checking of belts and straps, ect. Also, pacing. König paces a lot.

In some cases, even severe social anxiety can lessen with time. This is somewhat the case with König. While it's not as bad as it was during his childhood, he still gets flare-ups that make him feel exactly the way he did back then. He's a 6-foot-whatever giant, but his brain will bring him right back to being that bullied kid again.

From his in-game dialogue, it's kinda shown that he's cocky. It started as a masking tactic at first until he genuinely became cocky...But is also always seeking validation, and realized that confidence is more praised in his field of work.

While anxiety and shyness are normally seen as going hand in hand, this is not the case for König. This man is NOT shy, or timid, or even that much of an introvert (he's an ambivert, imo).

That being said, I do see him as being more reserved outside of missions. Not because he's shy, but just because he's more in his head most of the time.

Back to the fidgeting bit, I see him as having a bit of a skin picking habit. Scarred lips and cuticles for sure. Plus cracking knuckles and cracking his neck.

Has torn up gloves from tearing at frayed bits on them.

Social anxiety will make someone irritable as hell. Anxiety can come out as anger or irritability sometimes, and this is the case for König.

This man bottles his emotions like a fine wine until it culminates into anxiety attacks.

Will come off as not giving a fuck and being confident as hell, but is usually nervous about what people think of him. Internalizes the hell out of it, though.

Can be very dismissive of his own anxiety. Likely grew up around people telling him that he needs to get over it, suck it up, and other similar sentiments.

Does have useful coping mechanisms now, certainly more than he did when he was a kid or when he first joined. And while he probably doesn't keep up with going to therapy now, he was given some coping mechanisms that stuck with him when he did go.

Diagnosed with Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD) when he did finally go to a therapist (I feel like his bio describing it as "SEVERE social anxiety" makes this canon in a way, but,,,it's definitely canon to me).

People get shocked when they find out he has anxiety at all, let alone severe social anxiety...Which is fine, understandable even, but hates when anyone makes a big deal out of it and starts prying.

(König x reader headcanons under the cut)

Some people hate being touched while they're going through anxiety attacks or flare-ups. König will unleash the full force of his anxiety-induced anger onto most people that try to touch him when he's going through it. You are not most people.

Let him play with your hair, or play with his. The choice is yours, because he'll be content with either. It soothes him.

Anxiety can be so fucking draining. So when anxiety hits him hard, König is going to be tired. So hypothetically, if he were to pass out after a long day of his brain being the worst liar and he woke up to chores being done/dinner being cooked/sees that you just did something for him...He'd love you so much.

On the other side of that coin, he does have trouble sitting still. So more often than not, rather than staying in bed with you, he'll drag you out of the house for a hike or a walk. Something so you're both moving, focusing on each other and the world around you.

Also, loses sleep from his anxiety. If he's up in the dead of night, he won't wake you up. But if you're awake anyway or wake up and decide to stay up for him, expect to binge watch something mind numbing and/or soothing. Something distracting. Just a casual 3 AM scrolling session through TikTok or YT shorts, watching the most random shit until you both pass back out.

[reccyls]

Victor's Main Route: Chapter 16 + Letter

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Kate: This is William’s, and this is Harrison’s…

My time as Fairytale Keeper was soon coming to an end. I’d written many reports about every member of Crown, and I was lost in thought as I went over them one by one.

(There’s still a couple of days to go, but everything went by so fast.)

Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that I’d stay at the castle and get to know everyone in Crown. But I’ve spent so much time with them that I now had enough memories to get lost in. All the missions I went on, my everyday life with them, all those idle conversations… As I continued writing, I realized just how many precious memories I had gained.

(It’s just Victor’s that I stopped working on halfway through.)

I had been working on it continuously up until I learned his secret. If I left any written records of it, there’s the possibility that someone could discover his true identity. That worry kept me from writing any more.

(What do I want to do?)

Setting a new sheet of paper in my typewriter, I began writing out my feelings. How I had fallen for him before I knew it, my anxiety when I became aware of how different our stations were, How I didn’t know how to navigate the suddenly changing distance between us after I stumbled onto his secrets, how it felt like this love story wouldn’t be an easy one. And, the “I love you” I never got the chance to say.

(But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m still in love with him…)

My feelings were probably just a nuisance to him.

(But even if he doesn’t accept my feelings,)

(And even after I stop being Fairytale Keeper and we never meet again…)

I wished for him to be happy. I wished that he would stop giving up the idea of living life as an individual. These feelings wouldn’t change, regardless of whether I was there with him or not. I stopped writing, and reread what I had written so far to try and clear my mind.

(Why did he cover my ears back then?)

It had been the first thing he did.

(Why did he kiss me to stop me from talking?)

If he didn’t want to hear it, there were dozens of other ways he could have stopped me from speaking. But he chose to kiss me.

(There’s still things about Victor I don’t know yet.)

I had overstepped and hurt him, and then when I thought we were getting closer, he drew another line between us. In the midst of this tumultuous love, even though I had discovered his greatest secret, there were still so many unknowns.

(Until I know everything, I can’t complete my report.)

I realized my fingers had typed out “Don’t give up on happiness.” I pushed back my chair and stood.

(I started helping Victor with his work because I wanted to know more about him.) (Now that I’ve come this far, I want to be able to know everything about him so I can finish my report on him by the time I have to leave.)

I’ll fill my report with all my emotions and I’ll give it to him.

(And anyway, it was Victor’s idea for me to write reports about Crown in the first place.)

Recalling Victor’s words from that night, I gathered all my other reports and left my room. The sound of my feet against the ground echoed lightly in the hallways as I ran.

…

I don’t know how many times I’ve knocked on this door.

Kate: It’s Kate.

Victor: …Come in.

I don’t know how many times I’ve stepped foot in this office. I couldn’t count how many times I’ve stared at Victor’s serious face as he worked.

Kate: I need to talk to you about something.

Victor: …

He said nothing.

(I really didn’t mean to push even harder than I already have.)

After the day of the kiss, he had a maid tell me that I didn’t have to come in to assist him anymore.

(I thought at first he hated me so much he didn’t want to see me again.)

But the fact that he let me into his office now told me that probably wasn’t the case. He wordlessly turned back to his work, but I walked up to him and slammed my reports down onto his desk. He looked up at me with a startled expression I’d never seen before.

Kate: So this is what it takes for you to look at me again.

When he realized what I’d done, his gaze darted away.

Kate: These are all the reports I wrote about Crown.

Victor: Hm…?

Kate: I recorded everything I saw since I first arrived.

What they said and what they did, their personalities, how they approached their missions, their curses and abilities, how they spent their daily lives.

Victor: You wrote this much?

There were eight envelopes, stuffed so full with papers that they couldn’t even close properly, for eight members. But even this was only a sliver of what I’d seen and experienced.

Victor: Thank you. With this, your duty as Fairytale Keeper is complete.

As he took the reports and thanked me, he continued not to look at me.

Victor: Since you’ve worked so hard to complete these reports, I’ll arrange for you to return to your old life before your month is up.

I had a feeling that’s what he would say.

(He thinks that the best thing for me is to stay away from him.)

Just like always, he was taking action for my sake, to protect me.

(But I…)

I didn’t want to say goodbye.

Kate: Victor, you’re a member of Crown, aren’t you?

Victor: I am… Why do you ask?

Kate: That night, this is what you told me:

Victor: From today, you will be Crown’s personal Fairytale Keeper. Victor: You will live in our castle, and you will be accompanied by a member of Crown at all times. Victor: Everyone, please observe her to ensure she doesn’t reveal any secrets. Victor: And in the meantime, Kate, you will observe their evil deeds in turn, and record them. As if you were writing a fairytale.

Those were his words.

Kate: You told me to observe Crown’s evil deeds and record them. Kate: So don’t you think there’s still one report missing?

He instantly realized what I was implying, and opened his mouth to speak.

Kate: If I don’t know you, I can’t write my report on you. Kate: In other words, I can’t fulfill all my obligations as Fairytale Keeper.

But I didn’t let him speak and continued.

Kate: For one month, I would become Crown’s Fairytale Keeper and keep your secrets safe. Kate: Those were the terms you set for me so that I could return to my old life.

My hands curled around the edge of his desk and I leaned forward, meeting his eyes.

Kate: If things stay the way they are, then I can’t fulfill those terms. I’ll remain in the darkness forever. Kate: Do you want to kill me?

Victor: No, neve-

Kate: Then stop trying to push me away.

I’d never seen Victor look afraid before. But now he flinched and tried to move back.

Kate: You were the one who said this all in the first place.

I didn’t want to berate him or take drastic measures.

(But if I don’t do this, he’ll find some way to push me away again.)

Knowing that, I stood my ground and made him acknowledge his own words. With a resigned expression, Victor put his hand to his forehead.

Kate: …I just want you to be happy.

He dropped his hand and looked towards me. I met his gaze.

Kate: I know that given your past, this is cruel of me to ask. Kate: But I don’t want you to give up on being a person. I’ll wish this for the rest of my life.

Victor: Kate…

Kate: You don’t have to return my feelings. Just don’t let go of the possibility of living a happy life as “Victor”, that’s all I want. Kate: Even if I’m no longer by your side, my feelings will never change.

I felt my eyes begin to burn and tried to hold back my tears.

(I can’t cry here.)

Taking a deep breath, I steadied my emotions.

Kate: I still haven’t written my report about you.

A resolute voice sounded in the office. I almost didn’t believe that that voice, so full of single-minded determination, was my own.

Kate: There are still too many things I don’t know about you for me to complete it. Kate: So before my time here is up, I must know you. Kate: I’ll learn, and learn, until I know everything about you, and I can finally record your evil. Kate: So–

I jabbed my finger at him and declared with all my might,

Kate: Prepare yourself!

Victor’s expression didn’t change at my impassioned declaration. I turned and walked out of his office, and then broke into a run.

(No more taking those words back… but…)

My heart felt as clear as a cloudless day.

-----

???: Ahahaha!

In Victor’s office, a voice that wasn’t his was laughing. William stepped out from the shadows of a shelf, looking incredibly entertained.

William: You lost that round, Vic.

Victor: …

In contrast to Victor’s troubled expression, William was in high spirits as he took a seat.

William: What a wonderful woman, isn’t she?

Victor: …I agree fully.

William: So much so that I’d like to have her for myself.

A sudden chill filled the air, and William raised his hands in surrender, though he still seemed amused.

William: But alas, it seems like the reaper might have my head for it.

Victor: …Will.

William: Now that she’s made such a bold move, are you going to ignore it?

Victor: I…

William’s smile didn’t drop as Victor remained silent.

William: …Back to our previous topic, then.

They pulled themselves together and returned to what they were discussing before Kate entered the office.

William: The perpetrators of the warehouse bombing are part of that group, after all.

-----

After leaving Victor’s office, I immediately made my way to the palace’s library and began poring over everything related to the royal family that I could find.

(Victor’s name really isn’t recorded anywhere at all.)

No matter how many books and files I looked through, there was no mention of Victor’s name. Only Victoria’s.

(He must have had all the records changed.)

Choosing to reign as Victoria while hiding his gender meant that no record that a man called Victor could be left in history. Intellectually, I knew that was the case. But the reality of it sinking in still made my heart ache.

(But why did he choose to rule as Queen Victoria in the first place?)

He could have still reigned as a king using a false identity. I didn’t understand why he chose to disguise his gender. Hearing the sound of approaching footsteps, I looked up.

Jude: …Tch, you’re here too?

Ellis: Oh, good afternoon, Kate.

Jude stood empty-handed while Ellis carried a pile of books.

Kate: Are you two also doing research?

Ellis: I’m just here because Jude said he wanted to.

Jude: Might as well make use of him since he’s here. He’s just carrying my stuff.

Ellis took a seat next to me, and Jude clicked his tongue at Ellis but reluctantly also took a seat.

Jude: So? Why are you lookin’ into this?

Kate: Oh, this is…

As I stammered, Ellis tilted his head to the side.

Ellis: Is it related to the explosion incident?

Huh…?

…Yes?

Yes. (+2/+4)

Kate: Yes, as Fairytale Keeper, I–

Jude: Just stop already. You’re a shit liar.

Ellis: Oh, so you didn’t know. But I guess you’ll find out soon anyway. Ellis: I thought that you knew who the culprits were, so that’s why you were reading about the royal family.

Kate: …The culprits have been identified!?

As I leaned forward, Jude scowled.

Jude: It’s a group of republicans.

Kate: Republicans…

I recalled where I’d heard the term recently.

Middle-Aged Parliament Member: My word! As if I would ever support republicanism!

(The parliament member mentioned it back then…)

Jude: They became more radical after Queen Victoria took the throne.

Queen Victoria ascended to the throne in the middle of a period of great uncertainty for the country. Although she led the country to great prosperity, it would be a lie to say that she had been accepted by everyone at the beginning.

Jude: They were running their mouths just because she was a woman, but the country wasn’t in a good place back then. Jude: Not surprising that people weren’t happy.

That discontent only grew, and before long there were both nobles and commoners who called for the monarchy to be abolished. But as the country recovered and improved, those voices slowly died out.

Jude: But not all of ‘em.

The few who remained began to carry out indiscriminate bombings. The last of them was the one at the church.

(But I heard that Victor and William solved that already…)

Jude seemed to be able to tell what I was thinking. He rested his chin on his hand.

Jude: No matter how much you try to stamp it out, people’s wills don't die that easy.

And with those last words, he began reading.

(Victor’s been fighting for so long…)

Even as the people he was supposed to protect turned against him, he still continued doing everything in his power for them. The country we have today is a result of his unwavering determination.

(But has he ever been rewarded for that?)

Not as ruler, but as himself. My mood dipped, but then I fully processed Jude’s words.

Kate: Oh! That’s it!

Jude: Pipe down, this is a damn library!

Ellis: Jude, you’ll also get in trouble if you’re too loud.

Kate: S-sorry.

Ducking my head, I hurriedly began to gather up all the books I’d pulled out.

Kate: I have to go now.

Ellis: Huh? …Oh, she’s gone.

Jude: The hell was that about?

…

I quickly made my way outside.

(People’s wills don't die so easily.)

As I walked, Jude’s words replayed in my mind. There won’t be any record that a man named Victor ever existed. But even if no records of him exist, even if he himself no longer exists, his will won’t disappear. And because there are those who will carry on his will, the world will become a better place. Just like how he made Crown.

(Even though he gave up on his life, that doesn’t have to mean that nothing will be left behind.) (The determination he bears will continue to live on.)

The realization felt like a ray of light illuminating the path ahead after I had lost my way.

(So what I can do is…) (...record Crown’s evil, and Victor’s as well.)

Even if I didn’t write down his name, or his ability, or even what he looked like, I could leave behind a record of his heart and his thoughts, as proof of his existence.

(Even if someday, the darkness swallows me whole.)

…Or if there came a day where he turned me to ash with his own hands, I would remember.

Kate: Time to write.

This was something that only I, being Crown’s Fairytale Keeper, could do. A one-of-a-kind privilege.

Chapter 16 Letter: A crumped up note

…You got me. I never expected you to say such things… No, I suppose I should have. I know you’re the strongest woman in the world. I know that you want to stay here. And I know that it’s because you, more than anyone else in the world, wish for my happiness.

Ah, but what a sorry state of affairs this is. Because the reason that I want you to return to your old life is that I, more than anyone else in the world, wish for your happiness.

It seems that we must always be at odds in such ways, because of how we feel about each other.

Victor

[onestepbackwards]

Love that Bites Pt. 13

IT'S DONE AAAA Sorry this took so long, I have had a rough few months, it's made it hard to write and focus. BUT! This chapter is at least 8000 words to make up for it! I hope you enjoy!! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Summary: Despite what he had hoped, Dracula has decided to spring a talk of 'business' with you earlier than he had intended. He anticipates it to end in disaster, destroying what little peace you both had. However, he finds things might not end like he presumes...

CW: Anxiety, talks of depression, allusions to abuse, mentions of murder, mentions of sexist behavior, brief mentions of injury

Word Count: 8039 Words!

Like my work? Please consider supporting me here! Link

Likes and reblogs appreciated!

Tag List: @kittenlover614 @simpytheshrimpy69 @midgetdemon17 @just-nother-dreamer @adrakeshoard @tilldeathripsusapart @thedeadlynights @pumpkinvampie @bethleeham @mshope16 @sixsixtwenty @haleypearce @rvautomatic @tinystarfishgalaxy @marshmelloe @maorizon @ursamajor17 @sapphicsfordracula @dame-sunflowers @sleepyendymion @starrlo0ver @onewiththebeanbag

First: Here Last: Here Next: Here

-----

Dracula, if he were being honest with himself, had dread when this day would come.

Deep down, he knew eventually you two would have to talk. There was no getting around it, no avoiding it forever.

After all, you were still a Belmont, and he was King of the Night.

He had known this talk would come before he eventually had been freed. How you mentioned wishing to talk instead of immediately engaging in battle.

However, he would admit that a small part of him looked forward to this, especially before he had been freed from his stone prison.

Back then, he could not help but imagine different scenarios of himself and you discussing the future. This primarily was before he had got to know you a little bit more with each ‘visit’.

Before you broke the curse on him, he had planned on using this talk to gouge your own plans, and see just what kind of a Belmont you really were.

Would you be all bark and no bite? Or was the idea of wanting to talk really just a guise to make yourself more high and mighty than him? Another ‘holier than thou’ spiel he had heard countless times throughout history, and still managing to condemn him?

Perhaps it was even a trick to try and lower his guard? Just to attack like a snake on unsuspecting prey?

Not that he would have let his guard down that easy in the beginning, of course…

Other questions though still had run through his mind at the time as he slowly grew to know you in his imprisonment.

Were you really different? Did a small bit of Leon still persist despite the generations of Belmonts? Was it truly kindness that shone bright in those tired eyes of yours?

It certainly wasn’t naïveté, despite what some may think. Those eyes of yours had seen too much to be dull witted. Any kindness you had to give, it was because you chose to, despite knowing the risks.

That kindness, and your interest in asking questions for yourself. That still drew him in.

However, as time went on, it became almost alarmingly clear that you were in fact serious about this. How you didn’t particularly want to battle him, at least not without hearing him out personally.

No power play here, no desire to put yourself above him while seemingly giving the vampire a chance.

You were a rarity that Dracula didn’t want to let go. Especially when you were just within his grasp.

Humans like yourself were rare, he didn’t want to just let you slip through his fingers, even if you were a Belmont.

If anything, that made it all the more important to try and sway you to see his side of things.

Or to at least… come to an understanding.

However, Dracula was all too familiar with how finicky fate could be. Should he try and lock you away or strongarm you into staying, he’d simply be pushing you away.

It also didn’t help that the idea of simply holding you hostage didn’t sit well in his gut. The last thing he wanted, (even if he refused to admit it out loud), was for you to hate him for stealing you away.

…He would admit he did consider it, though. Dracula had already lost so much, was it hard to blame him for wanting to protect this Little Belmont who was clearly a hidden gem amongst the rotten trash that was humankind?

Still, he couldn’t afford to risk losing you to his own arrogance. Not like this.

Unfortunately though, you unintentionally threw a wrench into his plans.

Originally, he hoped to have you here for at least a week, if not two. During that time, he planned to gleam who had hurt you, and deal with them swiftly if need be.

All while healing you, and seeing if he could push past a few of your walls.

That way, hopefully when you eventually had to have a talk with him about where you both stood, he had hoped he would have enough information to form a way to convince you to stay.

Alas, things never went to plan for him. Fate seemed to enjoy taunting him that way, it seems.

Despite how receptive you had been to him, and how you accepted his care, you surprised him with what you had to say.

How you could not stay much longer. You had to leave soon.

Your words weighed heavy in his heart. However, it became clear this wasn’t exactly a choice you wanted.

It seemed you were oddly reluctant to even mention why, clearly unhappy and anxious about the idea of going back.

That had alarm bells ringing in his mind.

The Lord of the Night was no fool. When he wasn’t constantly being slain by your ilk, he was a ruler, a leader, and a tactician. Among many other things.

No one lived as long as he, and not pick up on different things about human behavior.

A part of him wanted to puff up in pride. You seemingly wanted to stay.

But that was unfortunately a double edged sword, so it seemed.

Sure, you were receptive to his care and being his guest, but that was far from being entirely trustworthy and comfortable around him.

…So just how bad was your home life for you to prefer staying at his castle, even after someone already tried to foolishly tamper with your life?

You seemed a bit dodgy when he delicately prodded about your home life. However, the less you said, the more of a picture it seemed to paint.

No words had to be said for him to assume the worst. The wounds you had must have been from wherever you resided outside his castle.

Yet you stubbornly refused to give him details. Even if you were different from your ancestors, you were still very much a stubborn Belmont.

It would be endearing, if not for the fact he worried about your safety the moment you left his property.

And the fact he had to have this conversation with you now, rather than when he would have liked. He had at least hoped you would be in a better physical and mental state before he sprung this talk on you.

After all, you both couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room forever. One of you would either have to give and declare war, or… Perhaps meet halfway.

Even though he hoped for the best, Dracula was well aware this may end in disaster. He at least hoped it wouldn’t be too explosive.

He’d like to at least fight you on even ground with respect, like you had wished to do for him.

The last thing he wanted was to fight you as you looked up at him, clearly still incredibly injured, despite what the potions have done for you so far. He wouldn’t underestimate you, but he knew that you would no doubt leave with permanent damage if you managed to win.

And if he were being honest, Dracula didn’t want to deal with the whirlpool of emotions he no doubt will have to suffer from if you choose to try and destroy him.

He may be a prideful man who didn’t like admitting his faults, but he was well aware how badly he handled losing someone last time. He didn’t want to kill you or try to hurt you with his own hand.

So he donned his King of the Night mask. Ready to face the music.

Your reaction to his change in demeanor was instant.

Those wide eyes of yours sharpened, and he could practically see the hair on your neck stand on end. Seems a hunter’s instinct never rests.

It was almost fascinating to watch in real time, if he were being honest with himself. Any Belmont he had faced, almost exclusively were ready to fight him from the get go.

So to see you so subtly shift, as if a snake preparing to strike, or a cat ready to react with a strike of its own…

Dracula would be lying if he didn’t find such a sight interesting, stirring a set of feelings in him he thought he had long since buried. A shame he had to see such a shift when he might become your enemy in mere moments.

The air around you both was tense, and was charged with enough energy Dracula idly wondered if it could charge a light at this rate.

“So,” Dracula began, his voice becoming a bit of a bored drawl, “what exactly do you intend to do now, Little Belmont?”

Your eyes nervously bore into his own, and you swallowed thickly as you sat up straighter.

“What I intend to do?”

Dracula kept his lips from curling up into a grin. He at least would try to hold off from antagonizing you like he would with annoying diplomats from other monster and vampire clans.

“Yes. Forgive me for being rather blunt,” he began, his eyes glowing idly as he watched you for any change in behavior, “-but you know as well as I do, that we can’t just pretend the other doesn’t exist after you leave.”

It was subtle, but he recognized the calculating look on your face after he finished speaking. He wondered what thoughts were flying through your head as you scoured your mind for an answer.

Dracula knew his words had to be thought on, though he also imagined you probably had thought about this long before he had even been freed. Although, imagining what one would say in such a situation, and being in the situation you had imagined didn’t mean things would go as one planned.

You were silent for a moment. Then another.

Dracula didn’t mind, nor did he rush you. Despite his shift in attitude, he didn’t intend to push you to make a choice at that exact moment, even if he did put you on the spot.

Though perhaps, that may just be his thin veiled excuse to keep the peace, just for a little while longer.

After a few more moments, you let out a sigh, and put a hand on top of your head. You averted your eyes from him, and closed them.

“I… I don’t wish to fight you.” you began, almost tentatively. Your hands gripped the blanket nearby, and began to fiddle with it.

“You have been very kind to me since uh… Since you were freed from being a statue. You didn’t have to do that, for me of all humans.”

For a moment, your eyes met his own, and Dracula felt some tension in his body lessen, just ever so slightly.

So you didn’t wish to fight him either. It was one thing to suspect as such, but to hear it from your own mouth relieved him in a way he couldn’t explain. No doubt it also took a lot for you to admit that, to your own destined adversary.

But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t fight him. No, it was clear you would if you had to. The words were unspoken, but still there.

Despite this, you were still clearly nervous, your heartbeat pounding hard enough for him to hear in the quiet room.

“I’ll be honest. I… may be a fool for admitting this, but…” you began, your eyes flickering between your whip, which sat next to you on the bed, and Dracula himself.

“...I probably wouldn’t even win. What’s the point, anyway?”

That was indeed surprising to hear from your lips. The way you practically sagged as you admitted such a thing, showing just how tired you really were.

Dracula could see it now. It wasn’t just exhaustion in your eyes from whatever happened to you at your home.

You were tired of life. You were tired of the burden you had on your shoulders. You didn’t have much to fight for, anymore.

Dracula felt those words of yours tear into his heart. They struck a chord with him in a way that was almost unsettling.

“If I fight you, then what? I ‘win’? There’s nothing in it for me. Sure, I save humanity, or whatever-” You say, making finger quotes as you shake your head, “-But then I just end up back home in my own hell hole, no doubt with injuries that can no longer be healed. Then I’d still be expected to keep hunting.”

It was strange, as if a dam had broken within you. Dracula had a feeling this was something that had been building for years. No doubt from when you were a child, thoughts like those had been swimming in your head. Especially after you had lost a parent.

“Plus, what then, you rise again in a century? If even that? I know for a fact sometimes you have risen in half that time. What’s the point then? Just holding off until the next battle until someone else in my family stands up to fight you?”

Blinking quickly, you rubbed one of your eyes with your wrist, clearly trying to hold your emotions in check. The conversation clearly weighed heavy on you when you were already dealing with enough as it is.

He’d admit though, it was surprising to hear this from you.

Some Belmonts seemingly had been eager to seal him away. Either for glory, or the sake of mankind, thinking it a triumphant thing to succeed.

Here, you simply showed the opposite. How cruel fate really was, how winning against him was nothing more than a temporary, hollow victory in the grand scheme of things.

And how those words of yours echoed deep within his own mind. How many times had he been forced to answer the call of humans and other forces since he was killed that first time after Lisa’s death?

Those first few times, he had been vengeful. But after he had fought with his own son one on one, it had become increasingly clear how hollow his life had become.

How far he had sunk since he even lost his own dear Elisabetha.

How he encouraged this lonely life as a vampire after losing his first wife, then grew to detest the cursed cycle he had been put in after his second wife was murdered.

Fated to be the monster talked about in folk tales to keep children from misbehaving, only to reappear due to the whims of Chaos and Order. Cursed to be revived, when after all these centuries, he had finally wanted to rest.

He was tired too.

At least he was living in the hole he had dug for himself. He had no one to blame other than his own self and actions.

But there was a strange pang of sympathy for you in his chest. His actions were his own doing, but you? Your family was doomed because of both him, and your ancestor who created his whole clan just to slay him and his kind.

You were born to slay him, for better or for worse. Raised to kill him, and if he didn’t appear, raise a child in your family to kill him in your stead.

Did you even get to live a life of your own? Dracula doubted you could, unless you completely cut all ties, probably having to go as far as to change your own name.

After all, any Belmont was free game, regardless if they hunted or not. If there was a chance someone was related to a hunter, let alone a Belmont, beasts and monsters would hunt them for sport.

He would say at least you had your own family to support you. In the past, that seemed to be the case.

However… If your own family treated you like the dirt they walked on…

No wonder you were tired.

The room was silent for a moment, the tension having morphed from something tense and anxious, to somber and dreary.

“May I ask you a question?”

Dracula was almost startled by your voice, and how soft it had gotten. You were now looking out the window, watching as rain had begun to fall. A rolling thunder was heard off in the distance.

He wondered if that was due to the castle, or from him from the dull ache in his chest.

“You may.”

Dracula was also surprised by how his own voice had softened. He prepared himself to act like The King of the Night, yet here he was, already unable to stay cold and curt with you.

How his icy demeanor had already cracked seeing you so… broken.

It was silent for another moment as you gathered your thoughts.

“Why bother at this point? Is not coming back again and again exhausting? Why keep planning to attack humanity?”

At first, the questions seemed piercing and aggravating, until you finally looked back over at him. Those tired eyes of yours meeting his own.

“No one ever really told me. I have an idea, but… Most of what I know I learned from old journals. I highly doubt things written by a victor are always 100% accurate.”

That familiar, proud warmth stirred in his chest amongst the painful feelings that swirled from old memories.

But this… this is what he had wanted. When was the last time he got to explain his side?

…Though to be fair, he knew he would be seen as wrong, regardless of what he told you. However, it was still nice to at least have a chance to explain, without immediately being called a heartless monster first.

You at least were curious. You wanted to know for yourself, rather than just believe the words of your ancestors without thought.

Truly a marvel for most humans, even now.

Dracula looked over you, and how your eyes still watched him with a wary, curious gleam.

He sighed.

“Several centuries ago, my wife, Lisa, was murdered by humans.” Dracula began, letting himself relax slightly as he began to speak. You, meanwhile, sat up a bit further, clearly interested in what he had to say for himself.

“She insisted I go travel, and that she would be fine in the small home we had built away from the castle. Lisa wished to stay, having pursued the career of a doctor. Taught her everything I know.”

A small smile flickered on his face as he recounted his time with his late wife, though that smile quickly fell back to a frown.

Your eyes seemed to sharpen slightly, and it was as if he could see you calculating in real time what must have happened. No doubt you were already making educated guesses.

“Unfortunately, many didn’t take kindly to her healing others. Even a few of those she treated reported her to the church.”

Eyes widening slightly, a look of sorrow and horror briefly passed over your face. Had he not been paying attention, it would have been easy to miss.

No doubt you had an idea before, but his words were painting a horrific story, even if he hadn’t even said what had happened specifically just yet.

“For a year, she was fine. We occasionally wrote letters to the other, and she would tell me about her different patients. Sometimes how fulfilling it was to be a doctor, something she had dedicated her life to. Other times… She’d mention how her patients weren’t as kind or cooperative.”

Dracula held back a sneer at the reminder. He really should have noticed the signs so much sooner. How he could have avoided her horrible fate if he had just relied on his gut…

“They would groan or complain that she was treating them. How it wasn’t normal for a woman to do man’s work. They would sometimes curse her out or grow aggressive even. Some accepting her treatment while saying vile things about her. Although… My son at the time usually was around to help if things were too violent.”

Recognition flashed in your eyes. Of course you would recognize his son, to some degree, if you didn’t already know him.

There was doubt in his mind however, that you knew his son. Dracula at least liked to think his and Lisa’s son would have stepped in by now to help you if he had an idea of whatever was happening behind closed doors.

Especially given how his son had been insistent on helping the Belmonts throughout the centuries, even if it wasn’t always by choice since it regarded slaying him.

Details.

Though that did make Dracula briefly wonder just where his son was. Had he gone back to resting? Or had he stirred now that he himself was awake and free?

Dracula was no fool. Alucard had a connection to this castle just like he did, even if it wasn’t on the same scale. His son’s powers being from his own would always have a connection to this place, so long as Dracula remained alive.

Those thoughts were pushed back into his mind. He could dwell on such thoughts and speculations later. If he was still alive and this went well, of course.

Clearing his throat, Dracula continued.

“It was nearly the time I was to return home, when it happened. The church and heads of the nearby town seemed to have had ‘enough’ of my wife ‘playing’ healer, despite the fact she had most likely treated someone they knew, if not themselves.”

Anger and irritation began to simmer a bit brighter in his chest as he thought of how his wife had been treated. How alone and scared she must have been that day.

“They came. They saw the instruments we both used for medicinal purposes. Something I believe you would find rather modern, or even old by today’s standards, but at the time…”

You looked up at him then, realization in your eyes.

“They accused her of witchcraft, didn’t they?”

It was more of a statement, then a question.

Dracula could only give you a small nod.

“She was.”

You had a pained look on your face, clearly upset.

“I’m… not surprised.” you began, a bit hesitant.

“Humans fear things they don’t understand. Or things they can’t control. I imagine being a woman, and a doctor who no doubt had a great success rate at that… Add the more modern medicine practices…” you mumbled, eyes looking down to the side as you thought out loud.

Dracula was at least somewhat pleased you were beginning to see the gravity the situation had been. He had no idea what your knowledge of his wife had been, but this no doubt was an eye opener. That is, if you were choosing to believe him.

Given how you were reacting though… he’d like to hope you were. At least you weren’t screaming obscenities at him and calling him a liar and a heathen like some of your ancestors might have.

“Indeed. It… was brutal.”

Your eyes were now back on him, and he mentally cursed as his voice nearly wavered. He wanted to grow angry once more, and yet, a part of him wanted to simply mourn.

When did he last ever get the chance?

“When I arrived at the small home we had shared, all that was left was cinders. She had been taken captive, and I had been informed… She was to be burned at the stake.”

The air was colder, and your body tensed as a growl slowly crept into his voice.

“By the time I had found where they were keeping her…” he began, his voice low, growing strained, “...They burned her, claiming she was a witch. That this was God’s will.”

He could feel his fangs grow just ever so slightly, as well as his claws. Dracula could practically remember the smell of those ashes of that home.

“It was a lie, of course. All of it. They simply wanted her dead, and used all of that as flimsy excuses to placate the town.” he snarled, leaning forward slightly.

Despite the anger clear on his face, you remained steady. You didn’t flinch away like he thought you might, though your eyes were still wide with horror all the same.

Though… he had the feeling it wasn’t horror from seeing him like this. You weren’t scared of the beast threatening to break free from his flesh.

“By the time I located her, she was already burning. Her soul was already beginning to fade. She was gone.”

Dracula leaned back into the chair, his heart heavy in his chest.

A moment passed, and then another once more. The only thing either of you could hear was the storm that had begun to persist around the castle. How the rain harshly hit the window against the wall, and the wind wailed.

“Not one human stood up. No one looked at what was happening, and said no. All they did was watch.”

Your eyes flickered to the arm of the chair Dracula was sitting in, how it splintered under the pressure of his claws.

Yet… you still didn’t look afraid.

“I then warned them. I gave them a year to apologize and admit they were wrong. A year to pack up and leave. No one did. Not one.”

It was quiet for a moment, and Dracula took a deep breath. In an instant, the air was no longer as heavy as it had been a moment before, though a deep chill still ran throughout the air.

A part of him wanted to feel a bit bad. The moment the air lessened, you slumped again. You were still wounded, and weren’t able to hold yourself together like you no doubt would have if you were healthy. He would have to be mindful how much of a powerful presence he had.

Thrumming his claws against the partially destroyed arm of the chair, Dracula looked over you briefly before continuing.

“In my grief and anger, I declared a year from that day, I would rain hell on those who killed her. I would raze humanity to the ground.”

Your eyes met his.

“And then you did. Or tried to.” you spoke, your voice surprisingly steady.

His eyes never left your own.

“Indeed. I did.”

You swallowed thickly, your hands gripping the sheets under you nervously.

Different ways over how you would respond flashed through his mind again, much like they had earlier these past few days. However, what you said next surprised him.

“I… I don’t blame you, if I am being honest.”

Sure, Dracula thought of the possibility of you saying something along those lines, but he didn’t think you’d actually say it.

Even if you were different from some of your ancestors, he still expected you to go along and claim he was still an evil bastard, that killing those people was still horrible.

Though, that thought isn’t wrong. He knew what he was doing all those centuries ago, and knew what he was doing each time he had been revived and set out to attack. How evil those actions were.

Yet here you were, so quietly admitting you didn’t blame him.

“I’ll be honest… If it were my partner, or someone close to me… I can’t say I wouldn’t have wanted revenge.” You began, head tilting slightly towards him.

“Though uh… I don’t think I would have tried to kill all of humanity, but… Well… I don’t know your situation in full, but I do know grief is a powerful motivator for a lot of things…”

Dracula wasn’t sure what overcame him, but he found himself standing up out of the chair and leaning forward. His arms caged you in as he rested his hands on either side of you on the bed, while he loomed over you.

“You, Little Belmont, would commit murder? To avenge someone close to you, despite what your ancestors have stood for?” he asked, curiosity truly burning in his chest.

You didn’t shrink back, instead met his gaze head on, even as he caged you in. Even as he heard your heart pick up, and your breath hitch, you didn’t back down from his question.

“I’m not saying I would have tried to destroy all of humanity… or even that entire town. But I would hunt down every single person involved. They would know I was coming, one by one.”

Your eyes spoke promise, as if this was something you had thought of plenty of times before. The certainty in them was surprising.

“I’m not my ancestors. I protect humanity, sure, but don’t assume I'm just like them.”

He stood over you for a moment, his face so incredibly close to your own as he stood above you as he took in your words. Your pulse was loud enough to ring in his own ears, and your body was stiff as stone, as if awaiting him to call you a liar.

Then, he laughed.

It was more of a chuckle really, though seeing your bewildered face as he pulled back away from you nearly had made him want to laugh harder.

Leaning back and sitting into the chair once again, Dracula ran a hand against his face and into his hair.

“Forgive me- Forgive me…” He began, his lips twitching into a smile. “I just never thought I’d see the day where a Belmont would admit something such as that. Though…”

Dracula adjusted his posture to a much more relaxed one, most of the tension that had been in the air washing away in an instant.

“You are correct. You are far from what some of your ancestors have been.”

You definitely had Leon’s fire. It was hard to say if Leon would have committed murder against humans if the past had been slightly different… But you had that gleam in your eye that his old friend once had. A fierce look that was different, yet just as vicious as Belmonts before you.

With such a revelation, Dracula could feel the heavy feeling in his heart lessen, but that didn’t mean you both were in the clear, even if you understood each other just a bit better.

Even if you were sympathetic to him, that didn’t change the fact he very much attempted to kill many people. Multiple times, sometimes against his will. He very much has caused harm again and again.

Still, you looked at him with such a complex look on your face. No doubt conflicted yourself with everything you had learned today, especially if you were going to go ahead and plan to fight him anyway.

“So, Little Belmont.”

His voice had you looking back up at him.

“Now that you’ve heard it from my lips, why I detested humanity for so long, what do you plan to do now?” he asked.

Dracula wouldn’t lie. He was genuinely curious what your response would be. Anxiety began to creep up his throat once again, however.

…Maybe you would say something that would once again surprise him.

It was silent for a few moments, as you looked deep in thought, before looking back up at him.

“Well… Do you intend to keep trying to kill every human? Seems kinda… counter productive to do so now. Especially when things have changed so much in the centuries that have passed.”

Though you gave a slight wince.

“Granted, I don’t expect you to like anyone. But at this point, what do you gain? Are you… Not tired of fighting and dying and being revived?”

Once again, he could sense a genuine curiosity in your questions.

What did he gain, at this point?

Killing every human would be suicide for vampires everywhere. It would do more than just destroy vampires, but ecosystems as well.

As much as Vlad hated to admit it, humans were a necessary factor when it came to the earth.

But why should he care?

The moment that thought crossed his mind, his eyes landed back on you. How you fidgeted a bit on the bed, though seemed far less anxious than before. Your instincts didn’t seem as on edge as they had been when he first initiated this conversation.

Granted, he hadn’t been as… enthusiastic about world domination in centuries, if he were being honest with himself. His last run in with his son definitely left a mark, how his son grimly told him what Lisa’s last words had been.

But even though he often wished to stay dead, many would find ways to bring him back, and it was as if a cord was attached to his back, tugging him like a string. A force urging him to kill once again.

He’d barely be awake even a few hours, before he was set to be killed again.

Dracula would admit, he was definitely tired.

This wasn’t exactly what he expected his life to become after he chose to forsake his own humanity to spite God. Though he supposes that’s what he gets for doing so in the first place.

Who knew immortality would be full of boredom, tragedy, and bone deep tiredness?

Still, without it, he wouldn’t have experienced the brief bouts of love and joy that he wouldn’t trade for the world.

His eyes stayed on you as those thoughts swirled in his mind.

Despite everything that has happened to him, he found it hard to regret meeting you, at least so far.

For a moment, his eyes gazed to the side, different thoughts conflicting in his mind, but…

He didn’t wish to fight you, either.

Fingers thrumming against the arm of the chair, Dracula leaned his face against his hand.

“I suppose that is a fair point. Nearly every human that has personally spite me is dead. It gets tiring being woken up, and then killed for attempting vengeance when those who personally wronged me are gone.”

Your lips twitched upwards slightly at his ‘admission’, before giving him a look.

“But tell me, Little Belmont…”

He leaned in close again from his spot in the chair, looking at you almost amused.

“What should I do instead, hm?”

You blinked, and your face briefly flushed from the proximity.

“Um… Well, what did you do before declaring humans as your enemy? Uh, I’m no historian, but didn’t you just kinda do your own thing, only killing people that came to bother you or hurt you? Like how the church likes to refer to you as Vlad the Impaler to hide that you are a real vampire that exists?”

Dracula stared at you for a moment.

“They what.”

Hands flew up, and you shook them a bit in front of you as Dracula leaned back.

“Uh- don’t worry, I can tell you that later, but in all seriousness-”

Arching a brow, Dracula briefly wondered just what the church and human historians have been saying about him all these centuries if they were attempting to hide his existence. Despite being freed for a few days, he still had much to catch up on.

Regardless, he gave what you said some thought.

“That is true. I… did mostly keep to myself. I had no desire to join or hide amongst humans. Though I had little pity for those who sought me out to destroy me and met a… bloody end.”

At his words you blinked, before nodding to yourself as if you agreed. However, your eyes widened ever so slightly, and you were looking at him with that familiar spark in your eye he had seen come and go.

“Um… Why not do that again? Actually, how about a compromise?”

Now he was interested. What kind of compromise would a Belmont come up with? You were different from many of the others, sure, but he couldn’t help but be curious.

“Well…” You began, clearing your throat, “Unless any innocent humans are harmed, I have no desire to or need to hunt you, or anyone in the castle, really. What would be the point? I know from personal experience not everyone of the paranormal nature are ‘evil’, after all.”

Your hands were fidgeting in your lap, and you were having a hard time sitting still.

“Uh… that is to say I won’t hunt anyone that hurts any innocent folk. But at that point, that was their own choice, right? Unless you ordered it, I can deal with them personally. No need to go to war if you aren’t attacking anyone. And…”

It was clear you were growing more and more flustered as you tried to explain yourself and your reasoning. It wasn’t for the fact he had to take this seriously, he would have found it cute.

“And I- um- I can try to keep people away? I own a part of the property nearby and can have the road closed off. Of course, I can’t stop trespassers if I am not here, but I have plenty of traps set around the property… close to my cabin, really. I can try and keep people away…”

You were mumbling more in thought now as you tried to come up with ideas.

“...And I know a few blood banks for vampires, and a few other paranormal people who require blood to live. I know a witch that owns one, too. I’m sure she’d be thrilled to bits to help.”

All were interesting ideas, if you felt you both could really pull it off. However, he still had one question.

While you were rambling, he gently reached forward, clawed fingers tenderly grabbing your chin to have you look at him. You stopped talking and froze, eyes wide.

“All very good ideas, Little Belmont, but please answer me this,” He began, watching as your eyes comically flickered between his hand and face, “What about your family legacy? It was founded on the very idea of killing me.”

You swallowed thickly as he spoke, eyes trained on him.

“You asked why it mattered. Are you really willing to throw away the one thing your clan was founded for? For peace? For both humans and monsters? Are you willing to toss aside the very reason your ancestors became hunters in the first place?”

You stared at him in silence for a moment, swallowing thickly once more. After a few moments, you moved your head out of his grip, a sudden annoyed look in your eyes.

“I said it once, and I’ll say it again. I’m not my ancestors.” you began, a sharp look on your face.

“I didn’t ask to be born a hunter. To be born a Belmont. I’ll protect humanity, sure, but why do I have to limit myself and people’s lives based on what my ancestors decided what- 500 years ago? Why should every rule my ancestors made define my life in its entirety?”

It was as if your nerves had dissipated, and you crossed your arms in annoyance. Dracula wondered if this also was something you have thought about for years.

It made sense, he supposed. If your personal life was as much of a mess as he suspected, then what did you have to show for being a Belmont besides pain and strife?

His lips twitched upwards slightly into a small grin. You just keep finding ways to surprise him.

“Fair enough. It’s admirable to forge your own path rather than be held down by your ancestors.”

Dracula then tilted his head, that smile never quite leaving his face.

“So, Little Belmont. Let’s say I do agree to your ideas. I won’t destroy humanity, and you won’t hunt myself, and the residents of my castle. You’ll help keep humans away, and help anyone here who needs a meal. What will you do then?”

The annoyed look on your face fell, and you thought for a moment.

“Um… I could show you a bunch of modern stuff? No offense, I know you are a genius and all, but uh… I doubt you know all the ways civilization has changed since you were last around for more than a day.” you said with a wince, though you perked up almost instantly.

“Oh! I could get you a cell phone! Oh, I bet you would like some of the online libraries as well-”

He would admit, he had no idea what a cellphone was, but he was intrigued by the idea of a library.

But he was more interested in the very idea of you not only not slaying him, but you coming back to visit.

Yes, the idea of you wanting to come back was very pleasing to him, indeed.

It was at the cost of playing nice, but was that such a hard thing to achieve?

If it had been several decades ago, he doubted he would have been so… willing. He has had plenty of time to cool off, being imprisoned in stone. That urge to kill never truly left…

But that urge to devour humanity whole… that was dwindling. He’d argue that it had been dwindling for a while now.

He may be King of the Night, but this song and dance was growing tiresome.

That, and your ideas had merit. He could work with them, within reason.

“Alright Little Belmont.” he began, and you paused in the middle of your muttering.

“I’ll make a deal with you.”

You sat up straight again, eyes at attention, and he could practically hear your heart pick up in anticipation.

“For starters, I won’t attack humanity, not as a whole. However, I won’t show mercy to anyone who personally slights me. That, and any human foolhardy enough to come to my castle in an attempt to destroy me shall be dealt with accordingly.”

After you gave him a brisk nod, he continued.

“You, on the other hand, shall not lay a hand on anyone in this castle, unless they attack first. Am I clear?” He spoke, his voice becoming firm. You tilted your head, and he decided to elaborate before you agreed.

“Everyone in my castle is under my protection. They are here either as a direct connection to me as my servants, are here for sanctuary, or are here for political endeavors. They are not to be harmed unless they attack you first, or attack humans on their own accord.”

He could only imagine the shit show that would follow if you killed one of the political guests for another coven. A part of him actually considered letting you loose on them, now that he thought about it, especially with those nasty guests that like to undermine him for dying to Belmonts…

That could be a thought for another day.

A look of understanding crossed your face, and you gave him another nod.

“That’s reasonable.”

It was more or less your idea, after all, but he was glad you were willing to agree to what he added on to it.

“Next, you said you own the property nearby, and could help keep other pesky humans away. I’ll hold you to that, because I may not attempt to kill humans for existing, but I do not wish to be bothered.”

Though he’d admit, he wondered if you would be willing to show him the land you own. Vlad was curious how a little cabin you owned.

What would it look like? Did you keep it clean? Messy? Was it large? Small?

Questions he could ask later, should he see you again and you agree to these terms.

You blinked, before nodding at him slowly.

“I mean… I’ll try and do what I can. Of course, If the government or church discovers you, they may try to override me, or send someone to attack from a different position. I can’t stop that, but… I will do what I can. If I can’t, and you haven’t done anything besides exist…”

Your eyes flickered to a nearby mirror, before looking back at him.

“Well, like you said, they’ll be dealt with. I can try to persuade but… well at that point, if they won’t hear me out… I can’t stop anything you do to someone trespassing.”

That was a fair compromise, he supposed. He had little idea how the human government worked in this day and age, let alone how entangled hunters were with them. Should anyone be foolish enough to challenge him, then he’ll make sure to deal with it.

But if you were at least willing to help him out, even a little, in regards to keeping humans away. Even if you most likely weren’t a fan of the idea of him exterminating any human that foolishly sauntered into his domain.

“Agreed. Now, another thing…”

Dracula tilted his head as he looked at you.

“I’d like to see you again after this, Little Belmont.”

Your eyes widened a degree, and your face grew slightly flushed from surprise.

“What-”

“What I mean is, you intrigue me. You fascinate me in ways I had long since forgotten, and I’d like to hope this simple compromise will simply be the beginning of a… commendable relationship.”

He felt his lips curl upward again at the look on your face. Clearly you weren’t expecting him to be so forward in asking to see you once more.

“Are… Are you sure? I uh, no offense, didn’t think you’d want a Belmont around after I leave… Or your castle’s inhabitants, since I know how some of them feel with me recovering here…”

Oh, how you had no idea how much he wanted to see you again. Vlad knew his time with you now was short, and his old heart was beginning to pound in his chest at the possibility of this little meeting actually working out.

He had to see you again. One way or another.

“I am sure. You will soon find that I don’t say things I don’t mean without reason, especially in company I like.”

He wished he had a camera, it was clear you weren’t quite used to subtle compliments. Or perhaps there was more to it?

Dracula could think more on that later.

Gently, he held out a hand to shake.

“What do you say, Little Belmont? Are these terms agreeable?”

Eyes flickering between him and his hand, you held out a hand, before hesitating.

“Okay… On one condition.” Dracula raised an eyebrow, but was curious nonetheless.

“Name it.”

After a reluctant pause, you spoke up.

“It can’t be this easy.” You began, though quickly continued when you saw his face fall.

“When I say that, I’m not referring to you. I mean our circumstances. I worry something might come up that would be… disruptive to this ‘peace’. I propose that we at least try to talk about something before acting rashly if one of us feels slighted, or if the other may have broken the agreement without realizing it.”

Dracula had to give you credit, even while injured and under what must be an absurd amount of stress, you were managing to think ahead. Something a hunter no doubt had to be good at while on a hunt, so why wouldn’t it show in other areas as well?

Plus… It pleased him you were still being careful, critically aware of your situation instead of blindingly agreeing. You were no fool.

No doubt your mind was whirring with possibilities, ways he, or someone in his castle could try and trap you by these agreements. Those thoughts weren’t unfounded, at least involving his subjects.

He had no doubts there would be chaos when you started coming around for visits.

Even if he himself wouldn’t dare try and trap you by your own rules to invoke a battle, it still impressed him that you were cautious. There were too many conniving fools when it came to such politics, even now as he settled back in as King.

Vlad smiled.

“Very well, that is agreeable. Anything else?”

You were still hesitant, but after a moment, you reached forward, your smaller hand meeting his own.

“No, that will be all for now.”

With your warm hand clasped with his own, Dracula felt his body finally relax, and his gaze on you softened.

For now, things might finally start going his way.

Even if that meant his desires had morphed into something different than pure destruction. All he wanted was to learn more of you.

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

How to Leave Comments on Fanfiction

So, I recently made a poll to know if people might find it helpful to have a list of things they could talk about when leaving comments on fanfictions, be it on Ao3 or on here. A majority of people were interested in seeing the post so, well, I'm making it. I started writing and posting stuff online when I was a teenager, on a website where leaving constructive criticism was the norm. It's by far the place where I've gotten the most feedback and it was an incredibly formative experience for me as a young writer — and it taught me how to leave detailed comments.

Writing comments doesn't necessarily come easy. It's something that you may need to learn how to do, but the good news is that you can learn how to do it, so don't worry if you don't know what to say at first. Hopefully this list will give you some pointers on how to do that.

This is more or less the list I go through when I want to leave a detailed comment. Even if I don't have a specific idea at first, I'll go through the steps and I never come out empty-handed.

Comment etiquette:

What became apparent with the poll I made was that a lot of people worry about how they'll be perceived by the writers if they leave a comment. Now, obviously, writers aren't a monolith, but 99% of the time writers will be thrilled that you took the time to leave a comment to let them know what you enjoyed in their fic. I cannot stress this enough. We're not going to judge someone based on a positive comment they leave.

As it stands, on Tumblr and Ao3, it's seen as rude to leave negative feedback, unless the author has explicitly asked for it/agreed to it, so that's what I'll be going over here. Since quite a few writers did say on that post that they would like to get constructive comments as well, stay tuned, I'm trying to get something together to do that for authors. Other than that, you're good to go.

The main ways to let an author know your thoughts on a fic on Tumblr are:

reblogging a fic with your thoughts underneath it

reblogging with your thoughts in the tags, which is often less formal

leaving a comment as a 'reaction'

sending in an ask if they're activated on the blog (which means you can stay anonymous, if anon asks are allowed)

Reblogging means that your followers will see the post as well, and is therefore really appreciated on Tumblr.

As a note, you may find different systems work for different fics! Maybe leaving tag rambles works for you when commenting on drabbles, for example for me it's the system I use to leave comments on smut.

General advice:

Everything I'm saying in here is for people who want to be able to leave longer/more detailed comments and don't always know where to start. If, for whatever reason, you're not comfortable or you don't have time to do it at the moment, a simple "I love the fic, thank you for writing it" always goes a long way for an author.

The key thing to keep in mind if you're trying to find something else to say, I think, is to try making the comment specific to the fic you're leaving it on. It shows the writer what you took away from the fic and the fic's strong points, which is both meaningful and helpful to an author.

Comments don't have to be long to be meaningful. Don't stress about writing a ton; a one-sentence comment highlighting the fic's humor or how emotional it made you can be incredibly impactful.

With this out of the way, I'll go through things you can talk about in a comment, starting with what I think is the easiest and moving on to things that could require more thought. You don't have to do all of that. You may never use some of the things on that list. Leaving comments should not be a source of anxiety. So take what you want from the list, maybe come back to it if you need more inspiration, and don't worry too much about it :)

Favorite line(s) : pull from the fic to let the author know what your favorite line was. If you wish, you can expand on that by saying why it was your favorite: did it make you laugh? Did it make you feel something specific? Did the author nail the characterization with it? Was there some incredible metaphor? Did you find it beautiful or poetic even if you can't go into detail? Is there one line in particular at the beginning of the fic that hooked you in and made you want to keep reading?

All of that is very valuable for a writer to know. Some of my favorite comments I've gotten were a list of a reader's favorite lines from a fic with one or two sentences to explain why they liked them, so don't hesitate to do that more than once if you can!

Emotions:  if there’s one thing I know about writers, it’s that we’re thrilled when we’ve made you cry. So tell us: how did the writing make you feel? Did you laugh out loud? If you did, was it the dialogue, or the narrator? Did it make you cry? Which part? Could you relate to one of the characters? Did it make you feel seen? Did the fluff make you feel all fuzzy inside or did the angst twist knots in your stomach? This isn't an exhaustive list, and emotions are great to draw from when you're leaving a comment!

Favorite element of the writing: Is there one thing in the writing that struck you as being particularly good, or what was your favorite thing to read? Is the author a master at writing dialogue? Are their descriptions so good you could see the whole scene? Are they really good at getting in a character's head and describing their emotions? Were you hooked from the start and couldn't stop until you reached the end?

Characterization: Now, this might be less instinctive, but if you've been in a fandom for a while, you'll probably be able to identify these things fairly easily. You can tell the author if you think they've nailed one aspect of a character. Did you have a favorite character in the fic? What did you think of them? Did the author manage to capture their voice? Was the attitude spot-on? Which parts of the character, if you can name them? Were there aspects of the character you particularly enjoyed? Did the author shine a light on something you hadn't considered or on something you don't think is highlighted often enough? Is there one thing from the fic you can actually picture/hear a character doing/saying in your head?

Style: I'd argue this is the hardest part, and you shouldn't feel bad if it's not something you can really comment on. As someone whose first language isn't English, I know I struggle with it. Style can be perceived as the way the author's voice comes through in the text. It can come through in punctuation, in the way sentences are formed, in the choice of the words themselves. If, when you read, you feel something intangible that doesn't fit well in the other categories, it just might be the author's style.

Here are some things (non-exhaustive list, of course) you could say about an author's style: it can be direct, straight to the point. The author doesn't bother with ornaments. Every sentence feels impactful. Maybe the writing feels intense. You're overwhelmed by the characters and their feelings and you feel truly engulfed in the story. Maybe the style is light and airy. It's so easy to read you don't even notice you are reading. Maybe the writing is intricate. Going through it is like piecing a puzzle together, sentences are foreshadowing and metaphors reveal deep truths about the characters. Maybe the style is rich. While not always the easiest, it's a pleasure to read through it, the author has a wide vocabulary, and you might want to compare it to a well-written novel.

If you identify specific elements of that style (metaphors, interesting use of punctuation, etc.), don't hesitate to point them out and let the author know you enjoy them!

That is it for this post, hopefully it doesn't look too daunting — again, you absolutely do not need to do all that in any comment, but maybe going through this list can help you leave comments for authors you enjoy.

I like to end my comments with 'Thank you for writing and sharing this with us', so I'll tell you thank you for reading, I hope this was helpful, and please consider reblogging if you'd like to save this or if you think it could help someone else!

As a bonus, my friend @elidebrey and I (but mostly her) made a 'checklist' for commenting, to help remember all this if that's something you'd like, so use at will!

A big thank you to @elidebrey, @yoongihan and @antoniorhinothethird for their precious opinions on this ♥

[adventuringblind]

Monsters in my Mind

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Sometimes those thoughts won't leave, the ones you don't want... The ones that can be dangerous. All it takes is one person to help make them go away.

Warnings: Intrusive thoughts, referenced/implied self-harm, violent thoughts, impulsive behaviors, panic attacks, non-sexual dominance as a form of coping, dom/sub undertones

Notes: My thoughts are self stabby as of late. Pardon me as I write this for myself to keep my head and hands busy.

Side Note: Consider feeding my praise kink maybe...?

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

The head is a strange place. One's conscious is usually meant to help them make the right decisions and not engage in acts that could hurt them or others. Her head, however, is the opposite of that.

It's a dark twisted place where thoughts that aren't her own find refuge. They want to bathe her in the ecstasy of things that shouldn't feel good. daydreams about things that could repulse any typical human being.

Sometimes they are so strong and her bodies reactions are so out of control, that she has to find relief somewhere. The knife against her skin takes the edge off. Is it normal to moan at the sting and feel satisfied looking at her red stained thighs? She does, until the realization settles in and the guilt won't let her think.

The thoughts laugh at her for giving in so easily. They scrutinize the fact she gets off on the pain.

She walks around in fear of herself. The anxiety and exhaustion from constantly fighting herself are visible on her body. She's tired, and everyone knows it. It's why they don't come near her. Always to caught up in her own head to realize people are trying converse.

It's not like her job requires to much discussion with people. Puzzles keep her brain busy and Ferrari keeps her busy with all the strategy mishaps they throw at her. They throw her a problem, she solves it, plans for next time, and they fuck it up again by not using the solution.

Sometimes she thinks about throwing herself in front of an F1 car going full speed. That voice in her head screams at her anytime she's close to the live track.

Then there is Max. His voice sends the thoughts running and it makes her want to cling to him. She wants him to never stop talking about anything and everything.

Today had been particularly difficult with the of the driver switch coming at the end of the season. Carlos and Charles are the first drivers she's worked with and they all got along great. She doesn't want it to change. That means more unknowns.

The wind graces her cheeks and kisses her finger tips as she sits on the balcony of their apartment. Everything is to much right now and her thoughts won't quiet.

She was in Maranello when the news came out. Her head became so loud with the fear of change and worry for her friend. Enough to be sent home for the day - alone, and nothing to help her head aside from the burning desire to just end it all.

Max had made arraignments for her to spend some time with him in the Milton-Keynes. She was still alone for periods of time. Enough to have to settle herself somehow.

The color red makes something in her relax. Specifically when it's flowing out of her own body.

Now Max is with her and she's stuck in her own head. The never ending maze of twisted thoughts keeps her from moving. The fear of giving in has been looming over her head for longer then normal. It feels like she's losing something, always has been with this team, but change feels far worse then staying with them.

Max hasn't pushed her to do much aside from at least stay in his presence. Occasionally attempting to get her out of her own head with movies and games. He's even spent hours at a time just talking to her about anything and everything.

He opens the door to the balcony, but she doesn't look at him. Not until he holds his hand out for her to take. An action she does without hesitation. No thoughts are needed for this, just following Max's lead.

He leads her over to the couch and arranges them so she can sit tucked into his lap. A grounding hand runs up and down the lenght of her spine. "I've been doing some research about how we might be able to get your head to quiet down."

"I'll do anything, jus' want it to stop." Her voice sounds dry and cracked from how hard she's screamed and cried through the last few days.

"Do you trust me?"

"More then I trust anyone."

She finds herself slipping off the couch and onto her knees, in-between Max's legs with her head resting against his thigh. His touch doesn't leave her skin. "You're doing so good for me. Listen to my voice and focus on taking big breathes for me. Can you do that for me?"

She hums in response. The continual stroke of Max's fingers against her face and sound of his voice already helping immensely.

"That's it, just breathe for me. I've got you; you don't have to fight the thoughts alone. I'm right here with you, keeping them away, never leaving your side." Max grabs one of her hands with his free one. her fingers lay between his. Her favorite puzzle with how easy the pieces fit together.

"You're here with me; I've got you. Those scary thoughts aren't your own. The are unwanted and uninvited, but most importantly, they don't define you. You are brave, loved, beautiful without gaping wounds. You're not crazy or psychotic. You are yourself, with your highs and your lows."

Her body has never felt like this. Her entire being wants to give itself over to Max. His breathes guiding her own, his gentle yet firm hold on her keeping her where he wants.

She lets herself fall under his spell. If Max can take the control away from her, make her complaint and relaxed like this, then he can have her thoughts too.

"That's it, such a good girl, let me think for you. I won't leave you to fight or flounder on your own."

She follows Max's directions, lets him guide her in this place of trust and letting go of things. He's turning her brain off and letting her float without any kind of worries except what Max is telling her to do.

Until all she can think of is him. The calm the comes with his presence and the way his voice falls over her like a soft blanket. Max is all she knows, occupying every crevice of her mind and leaving no room for anything else to creep in.

"How're you feeling, geliefd?" There is a lightness to his tone that makes her swoon.

She hums against his leg. "Warm, fuzzy, head empty."

"Then you stay here as long as you need, okay? I'll keep you safe."

And she does.

She falls into the warm embrace of Max's words. She lets him protect her and keep the dark ugly thoughts away.

With Max, her head is quiet. The voices can't come though. When they do, he's there to fight them back.

[someone-help-im-obessed]

Linzin break up and she finds out she’s pregnant

Thank you so much for the request, I wanted to make this very emotional and soft. So enjoy!

The couple had been together for nearly six years. Childhood friends turned partners, they had weathered everything from political unrest to long-distance separations, always finding their way back to each other. Two years ago, they’d gotten engaged. But the wedding kept getting pushed back—first due to responsibilities, then timing, and eventually, they just stopped talking about it altogether. Whenever friends or family asked, they blamed their careers. “Work has us both so busy,” they’d say, forcing a smile neither truly felt anymore.

But the truth was more complicated. Lately, their love had felt less like a warm embrace and more like a tightly coiled spring—always on the verge of snapping.

“You’re overreacting,” Lin said sharply, arms crossed tightly across her chest like armor. Her brows were furrowed, her jaw tight. “It’s my job, Tenzin. You knew what it would mean if I became Chief.”

Tenzin stood in the doorway of their shared apartment on Air Temple Island, frustration lining every inch of his face. His shoulders slumped beneath his formal robes, and his voice cracked with restrained anger. “You shouldn’t be staying out that late every night, Lin. It’s not just unhealthy—it’s dangerous. And I—” He hesitated, his voice softening, “I barely even see you anymore.”

She scoffed, the sound sharp as metal. “I just became Chief. You think I’m going to clock out at sunset like a clerk? This isn’t some part-time job. I have responsibilities now.”

“And I don’t?” he snapped, rubbing a hand down his face. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t work hard, Lin. Spirits, no one works harder than you. But it’s like… it’s like you’ve stopped caring that we’re drifting apart.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Of course I care! Don’t stand there and accuse me of not giving a damn just because you’re feeling neglected.”

Tenzin’s voice rose with hurt. “We’re not talking about neglect! We’re supposed to be planning our future—a wedding, Lin! A marriage! And we keep pushing it aside like it doesn’t matter.”

“Because right now it doesn’t matter!” Lin barked, pacing away from him. Her hands gestured angrily. “We’re barely holding it together! You want to plan a wedding while we’re like this?”

“So we wait forever?” he asked bitterly. “Until your job slows down? Until you’re less tired? Until I don’t feel like a stranger in my own home?”

Lin turned her back, shoulders rigid. “You think I haven’t noticed how far apart we’ve gotten? You think it doesn’t tear me apart too?” Her voice cracked, raw now. “But if we’re this broken before marriage, what makes you think we’ll survive after?”

Silence thickened between them like smoke.

Tenzin’s voice was quiet, low with pain. “Maybe we won’t.”

Lin whipped around, her heart in her throat. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” he looked away, then back at her with stormy eyes, “…maybe we should stop pretending this is working.”

Her breath caught. “Fine.” Her voice was hollow now, devoid of heat. “We’re done.”

She didn’t cry when she walked out. She never did.

The days afterward blurred. Lin buried herself in work, spending nights at the station and refusing to go home to an empty bed. She skipped meals, ignored the nagging fatigue, and chalked up the nausea to stress and insomnia. The headaches. The shakes. The constant ache in her chest—it was just anxiety, she told herself. It always came back when things fell apart.

But this time, the sickness didn’t fade. It only worsened.

It was weeks later when a mission went sideways—an ambush in the Lower Ring. Lin took a heavy blow to her ribs, and her team insisted she get checked. She begrudgingly agreed but refused the hospital. Instead, she limped her way back to the one place she’d always trusted, even when she didn’t trust herself.

Air Temple Island.

She arrived just after dusk, blood dried on her side, boots scuffed. She headed to the kitchen first, hoping for tea or maybe a silent moment alone.

But Katara stood in the doorway, already turning with concern.

“Lin?” Katara’s eyes immediately dropped to the bruising across Lin’s ribs. “Spirits, what happened?”

“Is Tenzin here?” Lin asked quietly, avoiding her gaze.

Katara shook her head. “He’s at council. He won’t be back until late.”

Lin gave a small nod, swallowing her disappointment. “Could you… take a look at something?”

Katara said nothing—just took her hand and guided her gently to a healing room.

“You want to talk about it?” Katara asked as she began healing her ribs, her touch warm and gentle.

“I was just fighting some smugglers,” Lin muttered, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“I meant the breakup.”

Lin flinched. Her defenses faltered just enough for Katara to catch it. “There’s nothing to say.”

Katara was silent for a moment, then said quietly, “Have you been sick lately?”

“A little. Just thought it was that stupid anxiety again.”

Katara paused in her healing and pressed a hand lightly over Lin’s stomach. Her brows pulled together, lips parting slightly in surprise. “…Lin.”

“What?”

“You’re twelve weeks along.”

Lin sat up so quickly she winced. “I’m what?”

Katara’s voice softened. “You’re pregnant. Lin, why didn’t you come see me when you started feeling sick?”

Lin stared at the wall, unblinking. “No. That’s not—Tenzin and I are done. We’re done. I can’t—He’s not going to want this. He’s not going to take me back.”

Katara cupped her face gently, forcing her to meet her eyes. “You need to tell him. Without yelling. Without pushing him away. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Two weeks passed before she returned.

The wind was sharp when she arrived on the island. She stood outside Tenzin’s room for a long time before finally knocking.

He opened the door, and when he saw her, his expression crumbled into confusion and cautious hope.

“Can we talk?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He stepped aside silently, letting her in.

She didn’t sit. Instead, she paced the room once before turning to face him.

“I’ve been an asshole,” she said bluntly. “But I can’t just not do what I need to do. I’m Chief now. I have responsibilities—ones I can’t ignore.”

“I know,” he said gently. “But we had responsibilities too. Our relationship mattered to me, Lin. You mattered to me.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “I know you did. You still do. That’s why I came.” She swallowed hard. “I’m pregnant.”

His breath left him in a rush. “You’re… pregnant?”

She nodded. “But don’t say anything yet. I didn’t come here to beg you to take me back just because I’m having your kid. I’ll raise them alone if I have to. But I wanted you to know. Because you deserve that.”

He stepped toward her slowly, cautiously, as if afraid she might vanish.

“Can I…?” he gestured to her stomach, hesitant.

She nodded.

His hands trembled as he pressed them gently to her abdomen. “That’s our baby…”

Tears welled in Lin’s eyes. “I know I’m not good at love. I don’t say ‘I love you’ as often as I should. I don’t always like hugs or kisses or any of that mushy stuff. But… it’s all I want. You showed me how to love, Tenzin. And I want to get better at it. I want to be your wife. I want to be a mother. I just… want it to be with you.”

He cupped her face, eyes shining with emotion. “Then let’s do this. Together. I’ll teach you everything. I’ll help you every step of the way. Because all I’ve ever wanted… is you, Lin. Just you.”

She broke then, falling into his arms, and for the first time in weeks, she felt like she could breathe.

[thegodmother007]

My New Neighbor Chapter 13: Let’s Hang Out

TRIGGER WARNING: This story will eventually contain violence, angst, threat of death, swearing, dark humor, adult themes like sex & drugs, racism, classism, sexism etc. Do not say you have not been warned

Chapter 13:

It took almost a week, but I was finally feeling like my old self again. No more runny nose, headaches, chills or vertigo. I felt like I had been freed from a prison sentence within my own body. Although, if I was being honest with myself, it wasn’t all bad. My mind constantly drifted back to the time Cain played his guitar for me when I was bedridden. I could feel a warmth in my chest, accompanied by a few skipped beats of my heart every time I envisioned him sitting on my bedroom floor, giving me my own private concert. I wish I had more energy at the time because I would have loved to have stayed awake longer to continue listening to him play. I felt so important & felt so..special watching him play for me. That feeling was punctuated when I woke up the next morning to see Cain texted me “Sleep well.” Which made me think that was his nefarious plot the whole time, to put me to sleep. Luckily for him, I needed the sleep & it worked like a charm in more than one way. 

Finally being able to leave my bed, I decided that I would use my newly regained energy to reset my room. Washing my blankets & sheets, vacuuming the rug, getting the piles of dirty dishes cleaned & the garbage bag full of discarded tissues out of here, should really help me feel completely rejuvenated. I look at my phone to see I had not gotten a text from Cain this morning yet, which means he is still sleeping. Waking up each day to Cain’s morning texts while my body ached, brought me a level of comfort I quickly became accustomed to. It was the thing I looked forward to each morning opening my phone for the first time. 

I got busy with my cleaning when about 45min into it, I hear the ‘ping!’ of my text notification go off. Like a Pavlovian-Trained dog, I immediately dropped the fresh comforter I was placing on my bed to check & see if it was Cain. Seeing his name across my screen with the words “Morning. How are you feeling today?” really improved my overall mood. I was quick to respond with “I'm actually feeling great today! No more flu, I think I'm totally over it now 😄” I stuff my phone back into my pocket & start arranging my bed spread to be how I like it. 

It didn't take long for Cain to get back to me: “That's great! Glad to hear you're not sick anymore. Figured you were feeling better, I can hear you moving around.” I read the text, a little sheepish as I often forget that Cain can pick up on the littlest of movements. I don't reply right away, my brain starts turning with an idea. 

I look around my room to see it's practically spotless in here. Then I walk into my living room to see that it was clean too, seeing as I hadn't been in here much in almost a week. I smile and pick up my phone again. 

“Yea, I'm doing a bit of cleaning to refresh my unit. Wanna come over to hang out later?” I pressed send with only a tiny bit of hesitation. Last time I asked Cain to come over, he was abused & harassed. This time though, it would just be me. I felt a seed of anxiety planted in my brain as I waited on his response, going to my kitchen to start on a little breakfast. 

*********************************************************************************************************

“Yea, I'm doing a bit of cleaning to refresh my unit. Wanna come over to hang out later?” I read those words with a bit of unease, wondering if more than just Vi was going to be there. I didn't want to say ‘no’ right away, though. But last time I went over there when invited, it didn't end well for me. Going over there on my own accord, knowing Vi was sick & weak, put me at ease. 

I stopped myself from thinking this way, reminding myself that Vi took care of me that night. I shouldn’t be constantly referencing what Myra & her goons did to my friends and I. While I had the bravado in my thumbs, I text back “What do you have in mind? 🤔” 

************************************************************************************************************

Oh shit, I hadn't thought that far ahead. I look around my apartment, as if I was looking for an answer to give him. What could I say that would entice Cain to want to come over? What can two people with extreme height differences do together that isn’t impacted by our sizes? 

I eyed my shelf which had my album of DVD’s and I thought about what I might be able to make for dinner, trying to remember what he likes. He did bring me pizza one time from a place I did not recognize, which I imagine is a place he goes to enough to deem it good pizza. I pull my phone out “What if we watched a movie and I made us some calzones or something?” I paused before pressing ‘send’ and considered my reply. Is that too intimate? Dinner and a movie seems very date-worthy. Would that be too weird? I mean he did play guitar for me when I was sick. The worst he could say is “no”, right? I rationed to myself

I press ‘send’ feeling that seed of anxiety sprout some roots. I put my phone on the kitchen counter, turning away from it and going about my day as normally as I can while I wait for a response. While I fluff pillows & make myself busy doing practically nothing, my mind flooded with the possible responses that Cain might shoot back with: 

“Actually, I already have plans”

“No thanks”

“That sounds boring”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“I can think of other things I’d rather be doing”

“I don’t think we should hang out”

“I really don’t think we should be friends”

PING! My phone practically screams at me, interrupting my intrusive thoughts. I pause, looking at my phone from across the room. Hesitant on even looking at the message, all but having convinced myself I was about to be turned down. Slowly I approach my phone and flip it over, looking at the message bannered across my screen: “That sounds delicious, I’m down. What time, like 6?” I felt so silly in that moment as the relief washed over me. I totally siked myself out for a moment there. “6 works for me, I’ll see you then 🙂” 

Now all I needed to do was run to the store to grab some ingredients!

*************************************************************************************************************

I was going over to casually hang out with Vi in a few hours and I felt pretty good about it. Nervous, but good. Deep down, part of me wondered if this was a date or something. Vi hadn’t said that it was and the last thing I want to do is ask her if it was, that would just come across pathetic. 

I shook the thought from my head, looking at myself in the bathroom mirror, telling myself where we stand “Nah, we’re just friends, that's it. Trivia partners, roommates, buddies, I am cool with that.” I say to myself, not so much as a statement, but a reminder. But I can't help but hear Britney's words in the back of my head “A partner is supposed to be your best friend, the person you can count on being there & showing up. A partner is that one person you know will support you & lift you up anytime you need it. Women don’t want keepers, Cain, they want partners.” I stare at my reflection, scrutinizing every little detail of my face, wondering if I had been born a giant would Vi want me like that? I fiddled with my hair, realizing that I had let it get too long without a cut & after a while of trying & failing to style it without product, I gave in & grabbed my mousse and hair paste. 

*************************************************************************************************************

Before I knew it, 6:00pm was upon me & I was ready for Cain. The calzones were piping hot & I even made a couple that were human sized so Cain didn’t struggle with eating from a giant sized one. I look to my phone to see it was 5:56pm and Cain would be at the door any moment. I didn’t want to sit there, waiting on him like that, so I figured some finishing touches on the place would be appreciated. I had the human-sized table from before, on my coffee table and placed a tablecloth with dishes on it so Cain had somewhere to eat comfortably while I’d use the coffee table to eat. I lit a few nice smelling candles, ones that smelled of pumpkin spice & vanilla. They added a warm amber glow to my apartment that I appreciated & hoped Cain would appreciate too. I had a human sized bean bag that I don’t remember acquiring, but nonetheless was coming in handy in case Cain wanted somewhere comfortable to sit. 

As I thought about it, I began to drift into a small daydream about sitting down to watch a movie. Where would he ask to sit if I didn’t have the bean bag for him? On the couch cushion? No, my weight would probably make him slide against my hip or he could find himself stuck between the cushions. Arm rest would be a good option, it was stable and padded. A bit of risk though, because he could easily fall if he isn’t careful. The backrest of the couch could be nice too, it was high enough for a good view of the movie and we would be more level with each other. But what if he wanted to sit with me? I felt a shade of pink creeping across my face with an involuntary smirk finding a place on my lips as I indulge in the fantasy. I imagine what it would be like, having his little body sitting on my shoulder. Would I feel him sitting there? I wondered what his voice would sound like right next to my ear. Would he sound different from what I’ve come to recognize as his voice? I imagine his delicate hands reaching up & touching my neck for leverage and I feel a wave of goosebumps dance along my shoulders, neck and face as I let the daydream develop. What if I wanted to lay down? I could lay on the couch but where would he be? I thought about the most comfortable places for him. My bent knee would be very isolating, I think he’d feel just too far away. I could always let him lay on my stomach? At the thought, the flashback of Cain explaining he felt he was going to die & the harassment he endured at my party made me second guess that idea. I don’t think I would want to be on a giant’s stomach either if I felt like I just narrowly escaped being inside one’s stomach only a few weeks ago. My mind drifted to the idea that maybe he would be comfortable on my chest. The pink on my face shifted to a bright crimson red, but the daydream continued. I imagined placing him on my breast, watching him sink into the soft flesh of it, feeling his little hands and feet crawling around and caressing me. I pictured how much that would probably tickle and  I would laugh, undoubtedly bouncing him up and down while he laughed with me. I put myself in his place, thinking what I might look like to him from that perspective, hoping that it was at least good. What if Cain were into that? My mind drifted into thinking about how he might view me overall and I heard his scream echo in my mind from the time I pulled the cloth back to check on him the morning after the party. 

Remembering that bloodcurdling scream froze me in place, the complete fear on his face & the disparity of that cry was enough to make me stop and remember how fragile he is. I had better not push it with him & make sure I am slow and careful with him. 

As if on cue, I hear the buzzer from his apartment requesting entry into my unit. I do a quick mirror check, making sure I didn’t have sauce from making calzones on me and my hair looked alright. I was excited to hang out with Cain and get to know him better, hoping we could become a little closer than just unit partners. I press my own buzzer and unlock the small door, to then see Cain open it & walk through, his blue eyes immediately landing on me. He greets me with what I can see is a smile and a wave. I feel my heart leap as I return his wave & smile back to him. “Hey!” I exclaim, gingerly walking toward him with my slippered feet, hoping not to shake the floor so much. I slowly descend to his level. I see he is wearing a dark colored hoodie & some standard dark wash blue jeans. Despite Cain’s bright blonde hair, pushing almost platinum blonde, he seems to favor darker colored clothes. 

“It smells great in here!” He comments, looking around at my place, no doubt looking for the calzones I’ve made. “Full disclosure, I’ve been smelling it for the last hour, so I’ve come hungry” He says with a nervous laugh. “Good! I made quite a few for you! Actually…now that I am looking at you, I might have overdone it. You okay with taking leftovers home with you?” I ask knowing the answer will probably be ‘yes.’ Excitedly, Cain claps his hands together “We’ll see just how much is left over. Despite my size, I can really put it away, just wait & see..” He says with a smirk. I raise an eyebrow “Oh yea? We’ll see about that..” I offer a hand to him casually, hoping not to make it a big deal, knowing how Cain feels about being held. I hoped that by treating it as something nonchalant, his fear about it would diminish overtime. 

I watched him take a breath and look up at me and I offer him a smile, reminding him it’s okay. With less hesitation than before, he walks into my hand, his sneakers catching traction on my skin as he shuffles his way into the middle of my palm. He sits, holding my thumb like a safeguard on a carnival ride. I felt the familiar warmth spreading in my cheeks watching him trust me, feeling honored that he does at all. Once situated, he turns to look up at me, giving a thumbs-up, but saying nothing else. I could tell & feel by the rigidity of his body that this is still not natural for him yet, but that is okay. Slowly I lift him to the coffee table where the human-sized dining set is; this time with proper cutlery & dishes for him to use. I carefully lift & deposit him onto the coffee table and he smiles “What’s this? You set a place for me?” He asks while departing from my palm. “Of course, I felt bad that the last time you were here, I didn’t have any dishes or silverware for you & you had to eat pancakes with your hands. A calzone is a little harder to eat without cutlery so you know, I just grabbed a set while I was out today, no big deal.”

***********************************************************************************************************

Except it was a big deal to me. She made the effort to make sure I was feeling comfortable & able to enjoy the food she prepared as it was meant to be. When she had me over for breakfast a few weeks ago, I felt a bit primitive having to eat off her plate with my hands. But now she had a place for me with everything I would need to feel like a person. I realized how weird of a thought that is, but being able to fit in the palm of your friend’s hand and not being able to be independent when visiting, you begin to second guess how they see you. I turned with a grateful look “Thank you, this is actually really nice of you..” I had hoped that this would mean she intended on having me over more often now that we have that hurdle crossed. “Well I can’t have you eating a piping hot calzone with your bare hands, can I?” She says, watching me take my seat at the table just for me. She stands, towering over the coffee table once again, but my smile does not leave my face as she does. “Since you’re hungry, I’ll go grab the food from the oven where I’ve been keeping it hot.” My mouth watered as she walked away & to the kitchen. I purposely skipped lunch to prepare for this meal, knowing I was going to be eating like a King. 

Vi soon comes back with her plate and on her plate, was 3 of my own smaller calzones. Each one as large as an XL Pizza from Tony’s down the road. My jaw dropped as she slid my portions onto the table, only one calzone fitting on my plate, still hanging off the edges. All of them were packed to the brim with toppings like sausage, peppers, onion, peperoni, cheese…it smelled heavenly. I looked at Vi, my jaw still slacked and she gives me a cheeky smile as she sits cross legged on the floor, using the coffee table as her dining space, making us more level. “I told you it was too much..” She says, clearly happy with my reaction. I laugh & look back at the literal pile of calzone she just set in front of me “I take back what I said earlier, I think I will definitely have leftovers…” I admit. However, I waste no time & dig in. The flavor was fresh and saucy. The ingredients all worked together wonderfully & I closed my eyes, savoring my first bite, thinking to myself that these are even better than Tony’s. After a while of enjoying the first bite, I open my eyes to see Vi’s billboard sized face was much closer to me than it had been before & I flinched with a start, looking at her inquisitively, my mouth too full to ask her “What?”. She smiles at me “That good hu?” She asks me, pulling away & giving me a smug side-eye. With a mouth too full of calzone I proclaim “These are fantastic! I was just thinking about how they’re even better than the ones I’ve gotten from Tony’s down the street.” Vi’s smile grew larger “I am so glad you like them! It’s a recipe my mom developed when I was a kid. It’s one of my favorites.” She takes a bite of her own food & I watch her eat with nothing less than shock over the amount she puts into her mouth, chewing with ease. I watch her swallow the lump of food she masticated, feeling a chill crawl up my spine. I look at her enormous calzone, noting how it was almost as large as a city bus! “Wow, you really eat a lot.” I comment more to myself than anything. I see Vi raise an eyebrow “I mean, compared to you, I am sure it looks that way.” She remarks

I go back to my own food and we enjoy the meal having light conversation in between bites. Admittedly, I tried to focus on my own food for the rest of dinner, not overly interested in watching Vi eat piles of food larger than me. ********************************************************************************************************

I brushed off the comment about the amount of food I eat, assuming Cain didn’t mean anything by it. But I couldn’t help the feeling of self consciousness that started creeping in after he said it. I look to his plate & my own, noticing the radical difference. Thankfully the conversation veered away from my eating habits & I was delighted to finally be learning more about Cain. He has an older brother, much like I have, who taught him to play guitar from a young age. He told me about his childhood living in a Humans-Only city & what brought him to Epherton. I learned about his hobbies like sports, going out, being with friends & videogames. Fortunately, we did not jump on the subject of my brother & I was more than happy to keep away from that topic completely. 

“So, why did you come to Epherton?” Cain asks me as I cut another piece off my calzone. “Oh you know, job opportunities, cheap housing, not having tons of money & wanting to get out of my hometown.” That last tidbit was different from Cain’s answer. Cain also came to Epherton for the opportunities. But if the opportunities had been in his home city, he never would have moved here. I, on the other hand, probably would have moved here anyways. “Why did you want to get away from your hometown?” He asks innocently, unknowing that the answer was not as innocent. 

I put the piece of calzone I just cut back onto my plate, thinking about how to explain it to Cain without him including me in the backwards thinking many of the townspeople share. “Well, the village I grew up in had no diversity & with that came a lot of small-minded people. Many of them hold traditional beliefs that the two species should be separated, not meant to mix. Others, a bit more extreme, believe in separate but not equal. Many believe in a hierarchy, of course placing giants at the top.” I saw Cain study me as I explained why I left & I recognized that look as one of scrutinizing, seeing if I aligned with that way of thinking. I sighed as I explained further “I never agreed with them though. It always felt weird thinking of myself as better than others just because of the bodies we were born into.” I looked to Cain to see if my explanation made sense. Cain looks at me with eyes that resembled sadness “And that is why your brother & his friends acted like that at the party.” He said as a statement rather than a question. I nodded “Yea & I didn’t think they would bring their bigotry with them, considering they all know where I stand and they were made aware I was sharing a unit with a human.”

Cain paused for a moment “Where do you stand?” He asks tentatively. I catch his eyes, and look at him almost confused. “What?” I wasn't sure exactly what he was asking me. Cain clears his throat “You know, how do you see humans? Like, do you think that those people back in your hometown have some kind of point?” For a moment, his question took me aback. For the few months that we have shared a unit, I thought I had made it pretty clear how I saw him and other humans. But I guess this question was going to be inevitable.

“I see you as a person, nothing more or less than that.” I say with a shrug of my shoulders, not really sure what else I could say to that question. “Yeah but, doesn't it change how you see people when they can fit in the palm of your hand? I mean there's got to be some kind of difference in how you feel being around humans versus when you are around giants, right?” I finally understood what Cain was trying to ask me. “Well of course I'm going to feel different around humans than I do around Giants. But I don't see them as less important or less valuable because they are smaller. You don't look at people who are shorter than you and think that they are less human, right? Same applies to me. I just look at you and see a smaller person.” 

Almost as if his hunger for asking questions wasn't satisfied with the one answer, he pressed a little further “So what do you feel when you are around humans?” I could tell that these questions had been burning in his mind for a while. I thought about his question, my memory flashing back to when I played with that group of human children as a child. How excited I was to make friends & getting to play with them. My memory cut to when they told me that they weren't allowed to play with me anymore & why. I felt the remnants of that heartbreak coming back to me from when I was a kid. 

I thought about my answer & felt honesty would be the best policy here. “Cautious & nervous, I suppose.” Which seemed to confuse Cain ”Whoa wait, hold on, YOU’RE nervous around Humans? How? How are you, an 85ft giantess, nervous around Humans? People who you can easily overpower if you wanted?” I let out a breathy laugh at the summation “Not that kind of nervous Cain. It's hard to explain but I'm afraid of fucking up, you know? Humans have every reason to be scared of giants, I see why. So knowing that any move I make, any little comment, can throw them into a panic. You guys are fragile & easily startled, so I have to be conscious & self aware the entire time I am around humans.” Cain pondered my explanation, asking “What about with me? How do you feel around me?” 

I stopped the redness from climbing up my neck & to my face when I thought of my genuine answer, stuffing it deep down inside. Instead I reply “You make me anxious, but overall I am always happy to see you!” Hoping that made my answer a bit softer for him. I watched him look down at his food, contemplating my answer. I worried that maybe I had offended him. I didn’t want to elaborate on my feelings for him, because I worried how he might react. “I just have to be cautious around you, being Human and all, you know? There is a lot more of me than there is of you, so I have to watch myself.”

********************************************************************************************************

“Fragile” “Easily startled” “Less of me” I mean, Vi wasn't wrong, but it sucked knowing that I haven't been doing a good job at hiding my fear around her, despite how hard I've tried. I felt a shroud of shame surrounding me at the confirmation but wondered how she felt being around me if that was her impression so far. When I got “Anxious” my heart sank, only to be lifted from the depths with “but happy to see you!” I listened to her explain herself, and it seems like she's hit it right on the head. There IS a lot of her, and I DO struggle with being around Giants overall, let alone someone like Vi. I looked into her deep, sparkling brown eyes, seeing my own reflection in them. I could happily drown in those brown eyes given the chance, but who'd want to give that chance to an easily startled & fragile human? 

Halting my thoughts, I hear Vi ask me back “So how do you feel around Giants?” I look up at Vi whose expression makes me a bit uneasy. I could feel a tentative vibe in the air, as if she was expecting a certain answer. Although I knew I was physically safe around Vi & I knew how I felt about her, I also knew she was a special case amongst her kind for me. “I-I mean, they’re fine..” I hoped that would be enough but Vi raised an expectant eyebrow at me, pushing for more. “They’re uh-..um..they’re..” I watched her lean in slightly to listen to my answer and that made me want to back up a bit, crumbling under her gaze which held a bit too much weight in this moment. “They’re intimidating…and overwhelming…and scary…” I let the words tumble out of my mouth involuntarily and I watched Vi nod, as if I confirmed for her something she already knew. “But not you though, Vi! You’re not like that, I enjoy being around you, just not other ones.” I hoped that would explain myself a bit better. “You’re the exception, you’re not like other Giants. You’re a lot better than the ones I’ve met.”

************************************************************************************************************

I felt my breath pause in my chest at how Cain spoke about my people. I wanted to approach the conversation lightly though, not jump to any conclusions. “I mean, not all other giants are bad, you know? There are a lot of really nice giants-” I was cut off by Cain who continues “Yea but they are few & far between. On the whole, they tend to be a lot less…tolerant and more threatening than humans are. I mean c’mon, I was literally kidnapped by a giant at the party, how much more confirmation do I really need?” 

I couldn’t argue his personal experience, so I opted to let it go. “Yea, I suppose you’re right.” I forced a smile, but felt the wind being knocked completely out of my sails, knowing Cain sees giants as a whole, negatively. My mind drifted into wondering how much of that applied to me.

Once dinner was over & Cain was sufficiently stuffed, I watched as he laid back in his chair and sighed with satisfaction. “I wish I had more stomach, because I don’t want to stop eating!” He laughed, but held his stomach in pain from just laughing; he was so full “Ow..” I couldn’t help but laugh at him a little bit, but I appreciated how much he enjoyed the food. “I hope you didn’t make yourself sick, because we still have a movie to watch. Which, by the way, what are you in the mood for? Comedy, horror, action?” I suggested a few genres to make the decision easier. I stand, taking our plates & Cain’s half eaten calzone along with the two others he didn’t even touch to wrap up for him. “I left a DVD album on the coffee table, take a look and see what you might like.” I call out as I wash up the dishes & get the kitchen in order. 

************************************************************************************************************

I stood, no, wobbled to the album that Vi mentioned, using all my strength to flip it open to reveal a plethora of movie choices. “I thought you weren't a movie buff!” I call out as loud as I can, hoping she can hear me. Luckily she did “I’m not, I like movies but I couldn’t care less about the actors!” She laughs and I understand where she is coming from with that sentiment, I felt very similarly. I looked at the options & landed on a superhero movie, one from Marvel Comics. “Are you secretly a nerd, Vi?” I ask as I gently pull the DVD out from its sleeve, feeling Vi walking back over to me. She looks at the movie I’ve chosen: ‘Ant Man.’ Vi smiles “You can call me a nerd if you want, I call it having excellent taste.” Her hand takes my place in sliding the DVD from its sleeve and lifts it above my head, going to the TV and pushing the disc in. Vi sits on the couch behind where I stood on the coffee table with a remote, pushing ‘play.’ As the opening credits roll, she looks to me “Any preference on where you want to sit?” she asks me, pulling a bean bag from her pocket. “You can sit anywhere you’d like.” 

“With you” is what I wanted to say, but couldn’t work up the nerve to. I see the beanbag and notice how it looked like a softball in her hand, almost laughably small. “I can-uh-take the beanbag?” I asked, pointing to it. Vi holds it up “Anywhere in particular?” she asks and this made me think about it. I decided to take the chance “What about on the back support of the couch?” I would be immediately next to Vi that way. “You know, for a better view of the movie.” I explained away, even though she didn’t ask. I felt my palms become sweaty. Vi lowered the bean bag in her palm, offering me a ride “Hop on” she instructed & without thinking or second guessing myself, I jumped into the beanbag that sits in her palm, landing on my back into the plush chair like a pile of leaves. Vi catches me with ease and I realize how childish it was to just throw myself into the beanbag, but it was my first instinct seeing it, I didn’t think about it. I looked up & behind me to see Vi’s amused face as she lifts me closer to her, my stomach dropping from the elevation.”Sorry” I said with embarrassment lacing my words as she places me on top of the back support of the couch. I was comfortable in the beanbag, but I was more impressed with the view. Just like when Vi had lifted me in her bedroom, everything looked normal & to-scale to me. I liked being up here, it felt like I fit into her world just a little more. 

My train of thought was derailed when Vi sat next to me, her neck & head being level with me. She looks at me, our faces being closer than they ever had been before. I couldn’t help but stare with a dopey smile on my face. I can feel the wind of her breathing through her nose on my hands and feet. I can feel the backrest shift against her weight as she becomes comfortable. I notice the reddish highlights that naturally dance in her hair, now that a bit of it is spilled onto the backrest. It looked soft & well kept, I wanted to touch it, run my fingers through it, but I knew that wouldn’t be appropriate. 

*************************************************************************************************************

Cain’s words rang in my head throughout the movie about how Giants were scary & intimidating. I tried keeping a smile on my face for Cain’s sake & my own, hoping it would lighten my mood. When I was able to sneak a look at him, he seemed content and happy, which helped me be at ease as well. Although he may have stated I was the exception to the rule of Giants being overwhelming, I didn’t want to push that line. I didn’t even try to suggest that we sit closer to each other, fearing I would be doing exactly what frightens him. This arrangement was fine, I am going to be fine with this. I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. As the movie played, Cain made commentary the entire time. “Scott should just be big the entire time, he can just crush his enemies, he doesn’t even need to fight them!” At a particularly intense scene, where Antman is shrunken & stuck in a tub, Cain pipes up when Antman’s friend comes stomping into frame “Vi, look, that’s what you look like from my perspective!” He jokes, but I felt a pang of hurt in my chest, which forces me to remain quiet as we watch Scott being washed away by the flow of water from the faucet. 

Once the movie was over, I felt dejected and tired. I had hoped I would have walked out of tonight feeling closer to Cain, but it feels like my eyes have been opened to this impenetrable wall between us. I felt monstrous when Cain pointed out how much I eat. He thought I didn’t notice how he looked away when I would take bites. My thoughts were confirmed when Cain said Giants were overwhelming & scary. I didn’t feel like an exception to the rule when Cain mentioned how I look from his perspective when we watched the movie. All these instances were swimming around in my head, adding bricks to the wall I feel separating us. I felt too big for him & like I took up too much space. All of it is punctuated by the confirmation of how Cain views me & my people. Once the credits rolled, I looked to Cain who was relaxed in the bean bag, eyes drooping. “That was a cool movie” he remarks with a yawn & stretch. “Thanks for having me over though Vi, this was fun.” 

Although I don’t think I had as much fun as Cain did, it still warmed me to know that he enjoyed his time here nonetheless, despite his comments. Without a word I offered him my open hand “I think I want to turn in, too.” I say to him, suggesting that he go home. Cain sits up, taking his time to let the blood flow back into his legs. Once comfortably in my palm, I slowly get up, keeping Cain lower than I normally would out of pure reflex, to avoid overwhelming him. I grab his leftovers from the coffee table & I am quick to get him to his door, watching him depart from my hand. “Thanks again for dinner, it was fantastic! I am glad to be enjoying it for the next few days too.” I smile “Glad you had a good time..” I offer a small wave as he exits into his door & out of my unit. When the door closes behind him, I feel the rush of emotion I had been suppressing for the last few hours, wash over me. I felt tears pricking at my eyes as I stared at the white door. I felt the hot tears trickle down my face as the feeling of disappointment washed over me for what I can now see, is a relationship that will never be. 

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Thank you for reading & sticking with me during these inconsistent chapter uploads. A lot has been shifting & changing in my personal life and the time I would usually have for writing, is being devoted elsewhere. I will still write when I can. Thank you again & I would appreciate a ❤ & a 🔄

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[strwberrybils]

could u write e!42 miles comforting reader when they’re have a panic attack and just overall helping them through it ? you can ignore this ask if it’s too much of a sensetive topic ! (•‿•)

feel better ft. miles morales

♡ pairings & aus: earth42!miles morales x black!fem!reader ♡ summary: miles comforts you while having a panic attack <3 ♡ warnings: anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of past trauma, think that’s it? ♡ a/n: thanks for your request!! as someone with anxiety, this made me feel better <3 ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡

THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICED was that it was hard to breathe.

Your breath kept hitching in your chest when you inhaled, warm and sharp air filling your lungs as you gasped out. Then your eyes became sensitive to the light and your head was spiraling, intrusive and worry filled thoughts circulated in your brain like clockwork.

You laid atop your bed in panic, a blossoming heat spreading through your body. The one day that you insisted Miles leave you alone, and that you were ready to finally be by yourself— of course, you have a panic attack.

Hot tears come down your face as you try to steady your breathing, but it’s no use. Everything’s coming back to you all at once, so fast, so quick, it’s drowning you and tearing you apart. Your hands shook as you chewed at your lip, curling into a ball as you grasped your nimble fingers around your phone, quickly tapping your boyfriend’s contact and holding it up to your ear.

The line quickly picks up, “Hola, mami. ¿Estás bien? (Are you okay?”

“Miles…I-I’m having…a panic attack.” You heaved quietly, but it was just perfect your Miles to hear. He doesn’t even wait one second before you hear keys jingling in the background, along with the starting of his car. “Oh, amor…I’m on my way. Stay on the phone with me, okay? Can you do that for me?”

You whimper out a ‘yes’ as Miles flies down the road— you can hear his engine whirring as he does so.

“Baby, I’mma need you to name five things you can see for me. Okay? Talk to me. I’m right here for you— I’m almost there.”

You suck in a breath through your teeth, “O-Okay. Um…I see…” you look up, “I see the picture of us…on the wall, my laundry basket, my bag of snacks…um..”

“Come on baby,” Miles urges you, “I’m almost there. Can you give me two more, cariño?”

“I-“

“Hold on, ma, I’m coming in.” You hear him say, the sound of his personal key unlocking your door filling your ears as he approaches your room. The footsteps sound too familiar, though, and you sniffle when he bursts through the door. He looks at your pitiful expression, running over to you and engulfing your face in his palms. “Mi vida…siento no haber estado allí.” (my life…i’m sorry that i wasn’t there)

You can’t even get out a word before he kisses your forehead, sliding onto your bed and pulling you into his lap. Miles placed his thumb underneath your eyes as you fluttered them closed. Your chest heaved against his arm, and he clicks his tongue at you.

“Ma, you’re okay. You’re safe with me.” He reminds you, “Try to breathe for me, yeah? In…out…” You look up at your boyfriend, trying to steady your breathing like he asked. He smiled at you, “Attagirl…that’s it.” He kissed your lips, bringing you close as you rested your head on his chest, facing the wall. You felt your boyfriend’s fingers coarse through your curls as you felt your eyelashes fluttered close. He lulls you to sleep with his sweet touch, “Sleep well, mi princesa.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ☻ thank you for reading!

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓🕷️: @queenesther996 //@sukunas-slutty-bitch // @c3f21 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @moisttowllet // @Dee-m-cee // @liliummz // @starhrtz // @daisydark // @randomhoex // @solanawrld // @whore4hobie // @tanakaslastbraincell // @simp4miguell // @nyrovi3 // @my3tumbles // @aziulsworld // @enchantingfoxsparkles // @mancerseedu // @cafehyunji // @personofyou // @mcdvsr // @kopiivie // @ellatienesuscosas // @venuswash3re // @calliarlerte

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✎: @Dee-m-cee // @euphorichappiness10 // @adoree-kaelynn // @mhadnirb // @mmst4rz // @iris-theflower // @fleurrieerecs // @kenlani // @kala2022 // @ilyless // @milesmolasses

[klausysworld]

Hi hi!! I was wondering if you could write a Daddy Klaus fluff where the little reader has a really bad issue with her heart (prone to heart failure and has a defib implant like me) and when she's having a bad anxiety attack he helps calm her down, makes sure her heart is beating okay, etc???

His Sweet Little Heart

Klaus had noticed something off with Y/n's heart since day one when Marcel begrudgingly introduced them. Apparently she was one of Marcels only human friends, and he made it very clear that she wasn’t for Klaus to play with.

“Leave her be, Klaus” he muttered, not a hint of anything other than seriousness as Y/n approached them with a smile.

It only took one incident, Klaus had grabbed the poor girl, threatened her and pushed her into a panic. Marcel quite literally threw Klaus off her and was stroking her hair. After he took Y/n home and came back to yell at the hybrid, he spat out that Y/n had a heart condition and that he wouldn’t allow Klaus or anyone to risk her life.

Klaus didn’t really understand how Marcel and Y/n had become friends, perhaps through Davina who Y/n was also close with as it turned out.

She never spent too much time with Klaus to begin with but once everything happened with the baby, and she was under the impression that he had lost his child to witches, she tried to be as kind as possible to him. Klaus latched onto that kindness quickly.

He fed on it, he needed it. And she was so willing to give in. She’d talk with him for hours, sit and watch him paint and listen to him explain what the paint strokes meant. She would ask if he liked human foods, he said he liked beignets and she offered to go get some but he shook his head. “You do enough sweetheart, I’ll get them for us” he smiled and she softened, nodding and sitting back in the round snuggle chair he had bought for her.

Everything was quite sweet for a while, the Mikaelsons rarely went out and Klaus spent all his time with Y/n.

But then Hope turned out to be alive and suddenly the world was chaos again. Esther, Mikael, Dahlia, and anyone else was at the doorstep. Suddenly Y/n had a target over her head due to her relationship with Klaus and she couldn’t handle that well at all.

Far too often she would be wheezing for air, her heart failing to keep up with her breaths. Klaus would find her just in time, worry spread across his face as he wrapped his arms around her and held her in his lap. “It’s okay” he whispered “it’s okay, I’m sorry” he repeated, stroking her hair. His attention would be solely focused on her heart, waiting for it to beat correctly. There were few occasions when the fear settled in and he would pick her up, promising it was okay and speeding her to a hospital to make sure she was actually alright.

They always said to keep away from stressful situations.

Klaus never knew how to respond to that.

Often he would suggest she stay indoors, in his room preferably but that upset her. She wasn’t incapable and he knew that but he didn’t know how else to keep her safe.

Sometimes she would get herself so worked up about not being able to help that she’d push herself into a panic or anxiety attack. The first time it happened, Klaus had thought someone hurt her and was desperately trying to find a wound on her but after they kept happening and she refused to talk about it, he knew what was happening. And it scared him as much as it did her.

He would sit and listen to her heart weakly patter in her chest, the irregular pattern became familiar to him and alarm bells rang as soon as it went away from its peculiar rhythm.

On instinct he would scoop her into his lap, hips lips would find her face and soft words would be whispered into her ear. Gently he would caress his hand over the spot where her heart lay, waiting for it to calm down. “It’s alright my sweet little heart, let Daddy hold you” He would soothe quietly, his face nuzzling into her neck.

He sighs a sigh of relief when she snuggles back against him, her heart stabilising and her breaths coming out slower. “Mm sorry daddy” she would whisper but Klaus would always shake his head

“Don’t be sorry for something that’s not your fault” he would tell her with a loving smile and a soft kiss. Her head would rest against his chest and he would hum softly while picking her up and carrying her to their bed or the sofa so that they could be together and bask in the warmth of the other.

(It’s short but it’s something 😄 Once again struggling to write. That’s a lie, I’m struggling to write on here, Im actually trying to plan out a proper book that I wanna write one day. Probably won’t happen but it’s nice to have goals?)

[sweetismyaddiction]

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SUCROSE

Paring: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Visiting his mother that likes you dearly, to Spencer’s happiness, taking care of each other makes butterflies go all over the place. Asking for advice for friends. (They live in the same building, in the same corridor, just in front of one another… which helps the friendship but couldn't stop Dr. Reid from falling in love)

Word account: 1905

Warnings: Fluff, friends to lovers, anxiety, possessiveness?, pain, menstruation, innocent kisses?, talks abour orgasm...

A/N: English is not my first language. Reblog, like and comment. I am accepting suggestions for next parts. Please be nice. The Gif is not mine. Credits to the oner 

Chapter 3: Narcotics, care and family

Spencer's Point of View

She figured out my narcotic problem.

She didn’t ask a single thing, she respected and is supportive. I love how she takes care of me. I remember when she put the pisces together, I was in pain and was so rude to her, I wonder if someday I will deserve her.

—----------------

I was having a bad day, a bad week, and treated my friend in a way she didn’t deserved.

“I am sorry, I am really sorry”

She kept looking at me, in her door. I felt gray again, I felt worse than I was feeling.

“You never told me your name.”

“What?” Confusion was spread across my face.

“You never told me your name Sugarpout. We talk for months, but we have never said our names, we bonded, became friends and never had asked for names.”

She was right, now that she said it… I think about her constantly, I know so many things about her as she knows about me, and we never asked, it never even crossed my mind, it was so easy to be around her, I craved the company so much that I never remembered this little detail, such an important detail.

“My name is Spencer, Reid. Spencer Reid. What is your name?”

—----------------------

In this instant I had major head and back pain, thanks to the last unsub. At least we got him.

“Hey Sugarpout, I did a lot of research, and you basically can't take any painkillers meds. But luck you, I have a few tricks, and I’m gonna take care of you.”

Say the girl owner of my soul, invading my home, isn't she satisfied with invading my dreams and thoughts?

“Would you prefer to lay on the couch or in your bed?”

“Couch” I will have so many problems controlling my imagination and body responses if we get to my bedroom now.

“Leave your head like… this”

She adjusts me, and starts rubbing my forehead with some oil. I love her touch. I closed my eyes, starting to relax and feel better with the delicate massage she was giving, so caring, so… everytime was harder not loving her the way I do love. The selfish way I love. Wanting her all for myself.

—-------------------------------------

Y/N’s Point of View

“May I open a little of your shirt?”

He silently agrees, my hands slowly travel off his forehead, the sides of his face, his neck… starting to open a few buttons so I can reach and massage his shoulders more properly. My fingers do their magic putting pressure on his skin, feeling the tension slipping away second by second, every time my skin runs his skink, more comfortable is set between us.

“Feeling better?”

“You always make me feel better.”

“You should rest a little, I can keep you company if you want.”

“I would love you staying here with me.”

And so I did, I stayed for the whole day. Light music, reading, healthy snacks and lots of water, just enjoying our time together.

“I am going to see my mom this weekend.” He pauses, pressing his lips in a flat line raising his eyebrows a little looking at me as if considering his idea. “I… you know… my mom… would you… do you want to… go with me?”

“To see your mom?”

“Yeah. I mean, you don’t have to. I know she… well…” He laughs without humor. “It wouldn't be your first time seeing her, but I know…”

“Sugarpout, I would love to go with you, I want to go. I like your mother.”

He relaxes, and looks at me, in a way I don’t know how to describe, I just know that it makes me feel good, better, makes my skin light up and the butterflies alive in my whole body.

—------------------------------------

Spencer’s Point of View

Adoration, love… There are not enough words to describe my feelings for her, for Y/n, my Sugar, as I am her Sugarpout.

She made a few things to eat, and she called the doctor in the clinic to know if it was ok and what she could or couldn't make. So now we have a lot of cookies, cupcakes, cakes and brownies. She made sure to have enough for everyone in the clinic, and a side a special treat to my mom, in a special box.

“Hey mom”

“Ah, Spencer”

“Hi Mistress Reid. It's good to see you again, we bring a little something for you.”

“A present?”

“Yes, a special present for you Mistress Reid”

My mother's face lights up a little when opening the box. That is my Sugar, always bringing light to every place she goes… Maybe someday she will be truly mine.

“Oh, dear, you didn't have to…”

“It was a pleasure, as you can see, I put phrases from a few of your favorite books, so you can read and devour the words.”

“That is very thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

They got to talk, a lot of talking, my mother even showed my baby pictures, to my embarrassment. But I couldn't feel that bad when they smiled so happily, the womens of my life.

“You are a very wise women”

Sugar compliments my mother, she is always so gentle and true. She is called by one of the doctors and excuses herself.

“I see the way you look at her. She is a good girl.”

“She is.”

“You should put a ring on her, a rare creature like her… is meant to be taken care of, I can see she cares about you.”

“We are friends, mom.”

“A mother knows Spencer. A mother always knows”

“Hey Sugarpout, sorry about that, the doctor just wanted to be sure about the ingredients. We don't want anyone having allergic reactions. Care to keep teaching me Mistress Reid?”

“I would love.”

“Once a professor always a professor.”

She pays attention to everything we say, to the whole conversation, until it is time for us to go.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N’s Point of View

Cramps.

The every month torture that people blessed with uterus go trough.

I don’t have the will to move, everything hurts, I am tired all the time and soon there will come the blood. I am thinking about calling in sick, or just losing the day… but I do need the money. Oh God, why wasn't I born a billionaire?

A knock at my door and a voice take me out of my sad thoughts.

“Sugar? Are you okay? Haven't heard of you yet today, I am starting to get worried”

“No, nothing is ok” I make a crying voice, to add more drama.

“May I come in?”

“Yes, use your key, I don't want to move”

Spencer cautiously entered my place, looking around, the view was terrible. I am swollen, feeling tired, dark circles under my eyes, some pimples… and even worse, I am in pain.

“What is wrong Sugar?”

“I am awful and everything hurts.”

Spencer comes closer and hugs me, the warmth of his hand is in the exact place, making the terrible pain more supportable.

“Oh, don't you dare move your hand. It is the perfect spot.”

“As my Sugar wish. Now. Can you tell why everything hurts? What is the problem?”

“The problem is that seems like the Devil is using needle high heels, knife needle high heels, made a fireplace and is dancing around my uterus.”

“So… cramps?”

“You say it like that because you ain't the one feeling it.”

“Oh, no Sugar. I am sure this is really horrible.”

He places his warm lips on my forehead in a tender kiss.

“There is anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“Just keep your hands in place. It is good.”

“Orgasm. It can help with the pain. When you orgasm, your body releases chemicals like oxytocin and dopamine that act as painkillers.”

“Are you saying that next time you are in pain I should give you an orgasm?”

“What?”

I laugh a little about his comment, poor Doctor Reid, someday I may kill him out of embarrassment.

“It is ok Sugarpout. I am just not in the mood for any sex activity. I am swollen and ugly.:

“You are as beautiful as ever. You are always beautiful”

“Thank you Sugarpout, you are always so gentle.”

We stay a moment in silence, just in each other's arms, but he has to break this moment even if neither of us want to. 

“Are we not going to work today?”

“We are going to work today.”

“Good, cause I kinda just passed by to see how you were doing. I got to go to the office. But, if you want, I can call back and see if I can take the day off…”

“No, no Spencer, you should go to work.”

“I really don't mind staying if you want me too.”

“I will be fine. Go make the others life more sweet Sugarpout”

I feel him relaxing against me, and stopping holding me really slowly.

“Do not worry, you are going to have a lot of time to take care of me. It can last fifteen days, ten days, a week… my cramps ain't regular. In the end it will be all fine.”

“Hope you get better as soon as possible.”

“Good work Sugarpout”

And then, he really has to go.

—---------------------------------------------------------------

Spencer’s Point of View

I am trying to concentrate on the job, but my mind always comes back to my Sugar, I know she said it will be fine, and she can be a little dramatic sometimes, but it does not change my concern.

“Ahn… hey Emily, what do you usually do to alleviate your period cramps?”

I did a lot of research about the subject, everything I could find, but with experience I learned that just reading isn't enough and every human experiences stuff in different ways.

“What? Where did it come from?”

“What am I losing?”

Emily is uncertain about answering Morgan, why he always shows… well he did grow up with sisters.

“I was asking Emily, how could someone alleviate period cramps.”

“Is this about the door girl?”

“What girl?”

“Sweet girl, that lives right across Pretty Boy and has his keys.”

“You’re kidding me!”

“Ask him.”

“Well, Spencer?”

“Yes, she is my neighbor, she is a really nice girl, and she has an extra key to my apartment.”

“If she is just a neighbor, why the cramps questions?”

“She is also a friend.”

“A very dear friend.”

“You should invite her to go out with us. I will love to know the girl occupying the Doctor Reid thoughts”

“Are you going to answer my question or just amuse yourselves with the new information?”

“Ok, I may have a few tips, but you will need to see what works for her, it isn't always the same.”

“And I can give you a few tips on how to survive this period, cause women can be savage, and I ain't talking savage in a nice way.”

Prentiss reprimanded Derek with a look and a little hit in his head.

I paid very close attention to what they had to say, so I was more prepared when I came back home, and being able to take care of Sugar, my Sugar. Doing my best to make her the more comfortable as possible, and the smile bright in her face was the best part of my whole day.

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