#two people who would have preferred death to what he gave to them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cheol-e-kat · 3 months ago

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𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕, 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒓

pairing: kim mingyu / f!reader / choi seungcheol

summary: y/n thought she was in a normal, healthy relationship with another human until mingyu was forced to turn y/n into a vampire to save her life.

but when y/n is still upset about all of mingyu's lies, she leaves to find her own way and stumbles into vampire seungcheol along the way.

y/n is left to chose between a new love and maybe her true love.

teaser word count: 2.4k [full fic approx. 30k]

genre: vampire au, soulmate au, crack - when soonyoung pretends to be a doctor! (i said crack), smut, kind of found family

rating: 18+, mdni, explicit

warnings below cut

warnings: grief, depression, anxiety, gentle kidnapping, blood, gore, fake death, real death (mc has to die to be turned - sorry - just vampire things), sex, drugs, alcohol, blood consumption (vampires, hello)

Y/n was depressed. Which everyone kept saying was natural because who wouldn’t be after they had watched their boyfriend be buried - so they were understanding.

But the problem was Mingyu was (had been) so much more than just Y/n’s boyfriend. They had been dating for two years - they had plans to run away together and live together and make their own life TOGETHER. No one understood what Mingyu had actually meant to Y/n.

No one understood that her inner grief was tenfold compared to what she let them see.

She stayed cooped up inside her apartment wearing Mingyu’s hoodies, hoping that his scent would linger until she died - which, according to Jeonghan, wouldn’t be that long if she didn’t stop isolating herself so thoroughly.

And maybe Jeonghan had a point, since she only shifted from her computer to her couch when she was practically falling asleep at her keyboard. She hadn’t gone to class since it happened, or left her apartment for that matter, excluding the funeral.

Y/n refused to accept what had happened. She didn’t like talking about Mingyu in the past tense. She didn’t think about Mingyu in the past tense. To her, it seemed like maybe Mingyu was just somewhere that, if she tried hard enough, she could reach, and they could be together again.

She had only gone to the funeral because her friends (their friends, she supposed) had dragged her there. She had stared straight ahead - her head swimming with thoughts of how she could fix all of what was happening. She had only paid her respects because she felt forced to, but to her, there had to be a solution - she was determined that Mingyu didn’t have to stay this way.

She did not mention this to anyone else.

She did not explain that she had been digging into odd-looking message boards - ones where people claimed to have successfully reunited with their loved ones. Mostly because all of these seemed to center around things like Ouija boards and ghosts. Y/n had higher hopes than some knocking on a table. She wanted Mingyu back.

And that was how she found Dr. Kwon Soonyoung - founder of Tiger Life ©

According to one OP’s review, Dr. Kwon had been able to bring life back to the OP’s brother-in-law in under two sessions.

Another one read, “Dr. Kwon has medical expertise beyond any ‘regular’ doctor - he truly views his patients holistically.”

And one enthusiastic reviewer reported that “Dr. Kwon saved my life - everyone else was resigned to my quote-unquote ‘death’ but not Dr. Kwon - he never gave up and here I am typing this review!”

It wasn’t so much the reviews that got Y/n’s attention - for all she knew those were from bots - it was the videos showing the actual process. She had looped it trying to figure out if it was fake.

But everything she saw, from digging up the body to injecting it with something pink from a beaker that caused the person to rouse like they had woken up from a nice, long nap, seemed to check out in her exhausted mind.

And somehow it only cost $499.99 plus gas and snacks, with a preference for gummy candies and chips.

Y/n watched the other videos as well - there was an interview where Dr. Kwon explained that the ‘life-challenged’ were just in need of a hard ‘reboot’ of their systems and that all were just waiting to be reunited with their lives.

Dr. Kwon did note that in some cases his patients may have elected to move on fully, but that in 98% of cases, the patients were now restored with their normal energy levels and “everything.”

Y/n watched the videos with tired eyes while she slurped noodles, barely tasting them as they wiggled down her throat and satisfied her grumbling stomach. The more she saw Dr. Kwon, with his glasses and white coat, the more confident she was that it was worth the money. So after a week of not sleeping and watching videos, she finally sent a message to the instagram account provided and waited for a response.

Waiting really meant that she passed out on her couch - it wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable slumber, but Y/n was no longer in a position to argue with her body and its needs, she yielded to sheer exhaustion.

But apparently during the week that she had been researching Dr. Kwon and his methods, she had ignored Jeonghan a bit too much. Since she was suddenly being woken up from a very restful faceplant by a loud knocking on her door.

She slowly rolled off the couch, landing with a small thud and groaning, swearing that Jeonghan knew her door’s passcode. She stayed on the floor for a bit longer, her eyes not wanting to fully open, her thick eyelashes feeling almost tangled together, but Jeonghan was insistent and LOUD. Y/n roused herself forcefully and went to fling the door open.

Jeonghan, pale and slender and dressed to kill in his all-black ensemble, lifted his oversized sunglasses to stare daggers at Y/n, “You look terrible,” he deadpanned with a smile that tugged the corners of his lips, “Can I come in already or do I have to stand on the doorstep like some sad person delivering food?” he demanded softly.

Y/n sighed, “Yeah, come in, I guess,” and let Jeonghan pass.

She wasn’t exactly thrilled to have Jeonghan there. Because with Jeonghan there, she was suddenly very aware that she hadn’t showered in a few days and was unquestionably gross.

She was also uncomfortably aware of every single greasy hair on her head because she was sure that Jeonghan was examining them as well. She felt like a child who had been left to their own devices compared to Jeonghan whom she had never seen with a hair out of place.

Jeonghan poked around Y/n’s desk, examining the haphazardly stacked dirty dishes with a slender finger that seemed to be declaring everything as ‘ick,’ “How have you been?” his voice was kinder than she expected.

She blushed, “Fine,” she didn’t want to say that she had definitely spent $500 on something that was maybe a grift.

Jeonghan nodded, “You seem like you’re still missing him,” Jeonghan seemed to be talking to himself more than to Y/n.

She shrugged, “No, I – uhh, I’m fine now,” she stammered - even if Dr. Kwon was a grifter, she would give it a chance.

What was the worst case anyway - she dug up a dead body, she wondered to herself if that was the worst part. She had no idea what a body would look like after being buried for a week or so, actually she wasn’t sure how long it had been anymore, but not so long, she was fairly certain. But maybe it was more like a month, but only if she actually gave it some thought and counted the days.

She barely noticed that Jeonghan was suddenly in front of her until Jeonghan touched her cheek, “Who is Dr. Kwon?” he asked gently.

She shrugged, certain she hadn’t mentioned the name aloud, or at all, and avoided eye contact when she responded, “I don’t know,” she sounded almost confident.

And Jeonghan pinched her cheek lightly and sighed, “It’s funny when you lie to me and think I don’t know,” he sighed again, this time it was more pronounced and dramatic, “Oh well, I guess we will just have to meet the doctor together,” he announced and flopped onto the sofa. He gazed at her, daring her to contradict what he had just declared.

She bit her lip gently and shrugged, “If you say so,” she wasn’t in the mood for Jeonghan’s games, “I’m going to shower,” she muttered. She could have sworn she heard a small ‘thank you’ from Jeonghan but wasn’t sure and wasn’t going to check either.

Y/n was happy to shower - she hadn’t realized how grimy she had felt until she wasn’t. And now she could lie in her bed and bury her face in the pillow Mingyu had once used while she stared at her dms waiting for a response.

She could hear low sounds from the tv - she had just assumed that Jeonghan was staying by the way he had parked himself on the sofa. There was something comforting about it though. She really had been very alone the last however many days or weeks. She nuzzled into the pillow that still held Mingyu’s balsamy scent and was quickly asleep.

── .✦

Y/n had been used to her weird dreams since she was young - they were usually pleasant, maybe a bit too real, but since she had met Mingyu whenever she woke up from one there was someone there to cuddle her and assure her that she was okay.

Now she sat up, rubbing her face, and remembered she was alone again - there was no one to tell her that the weird dream about Mingyu floating in the air above her with hungry red eyes was fake.

She could have cried, but then Jeonghan would have probably heard her and had some snarky comment to make. She fell back onto the bed and chewed her lip. She stayed motionless, letting the sadness wash over her and then recede like the tide. She hated that even in her dreams Mingyu had become something macabre.

Even as her feelings ebbed, she felt her phone vibrate with some new notification. She blinked and checked to see that it was an instagram notification. She was quick to unlock her phone and read the message from Dr. Kwon replying that he thought Y/n’s case was one that warranted review and suggested that they meet that night.

She responded without hesitation, wanting to be sure that she met Dr. Kwon as soon as possible. She waited excitedly for confirmation. And she grinned stupidly when it came through - a message providing an address for a small tea shop and a request for payment only once she was satisfied with the results of the procedure. Y/n chewed her lower lip softly - if this were a grift, at least it wasn’t an obvious one, she supposed.

She got up and dressed in something she didn’t mind going out in. And walking out of her room, she was feeling a bit excited for once since everything had changed - she had almost forgotten Jeonghan completely until he piped up, “Heading out, Y/n?”

Y/n’s head spun to look at Jeonghan, who was lounging on the sofa with some baking show playing in the background – his eyes were closed, giving the impression he was napping.

She stared for a moment, her blood feeling a bit icy in her veins because it reminded her of the way Mingyu always seemed to know when she got out of bed (or into it) - he would seem fast asleep, but he was also keenly attuned to any little movement from Y/n. She wasn’t sure why it would make her uncomfortable now - probably because it was coming from Jeonghan and not Mingyu, she guessed. She knew Mingyu cared, at least.

Jeonghan sighed and stood up, stretching nonchalantly, “I assume we are going to see the mysterious Dr. Kwon?” he almost sounded chipper, which was a strange development.

Y/n shrugged off the feeling, “Uh, I’m just going out,” she tried.

Jeonghan tutted, “You aren’t getting rid of me so easily, Y/n, I’m an old hand at all of this - you just need to accept that certain things come along with dating Kim Mingyu,” he had already rounded the sofa and was next to Y/n, looping his arm through hers and steering them towards the door.

It was a strange turn of phrase that Y/n played over in her mind as they sat in the back of a taxi ‘certain things come along with dating Kim Mingyu,’ but what did that mean, she wondered, and more to the point why would Jeonghan say it to her - it was another of those annoying things that somehow reminded her of Mingyu’s mannerisms but was also starkly different.

Mingyu was good at anticipating certain things - things that Y/n generally had to blatantly ask for from past partners, Mingyu always seemed to just understand. But that understanding felt natural between them, innate even.

From Jeonghan, it made Y/n’s skin crawl and she attempted to sit as far away from the other as she could in a cramped taxi. Especially since Jeonghan’s comment had to do with her very dead boyfriend.

Y/n stared out the cab’s window, watching the slow drizzle of rain and fog commingle as they wound their way to the ancient tea shop. It was in an older part of the city. To her, it certainly had the vibes of a place you would meet someone who was capable of reanimating the dead.

Jeonghan took care of the cab while she went into the shop. There was only one table that was occupied. Y/n immediately recognized the man from Youtube - it was really him, Dr. Kwon Soonyoung.

He glanced up and smiled warmly, “You must be Y/n,” his voice was welcoming, as he stood from his seat and gestured for her to join him.

She sat and, again, found herself being startled by Jeonghan’s sudden appearance at her side. It was a bit annoying to feel like she had a chaperone. Still, she wanted to know what Dr. Kwon had to say.

She accepted tea from the pot - which, in hind sight, was maybe her worst decision. Because before they could really even talk, she had started to feel groggy. Her vision swam a bit, and her head began to ache horribly.

Her vision blurred at the edges. And soon, she realized she was being taken by Jeonghan and Dr. Kwon, who Jeonghan seemed to know fairly well, since he kept calling him ‘Soonie’, out the back of the shop.

She tried to cry for help but there was no sound, nor did there seem to be anyone to even hear her. She noticed as they carried her out how decrepit the building looked - it looked on the verge of being condemned more than anything. How had it seemed so warm and inviting at first, she wondered in her haze.

She had no idea where they were taking her, but they put her in the back of a large black car. The last thing she saw was Jeonghan, leaning over her to buckle her in and pat her head, “Don’t worry, we won’t hurt you, even if Soonyoung has crackpot ideas,” he smiled in a way that only made Y/n whimper.

this should be fun and messy ^^ also don't come at me about tags - this is a teaser for a fic that meets fluff, smut, and angst - but the beginning is def crack

@gyupappi - just a teaser, but vampire mingyu needs more than a one shot (and vampire cheol...and hosh as a grift doc on insta hehehe) kissesss

♡ kat

♡ my [master list] if you want to read more

♡ if you want to be tagged in my posts or for this fic, go [here] - or just follow

[ taglist ] ☁︎ @syluslittlecrows [e] ☁︎ @gyuguys [e] ☁︎ @tinyelfperson [e] ☁︎ @unlikelysublimekryptonite [e] ☁︎ @livelaughloveseventeen [e] ☁︎ @codeinebelle [e] ☁︎ @ateez-atiny380 [e] ☁︎ @mingcouper [e] ☁︎ @hanniebub [e] ☁︎ @perfectiondazesworld [e] ☁︎ @scoupshawty [e] ☁︎ @peachytokki [e] ☁︎

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crescenthistory · 1 month ago

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Haunt Me, Then; Part 2

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Part 1 of the The Hunger Games AU

Chapter Synopsis: On a Capitol Train filled with all the people that might give you answers, in their own unique ways, you find yourself feeling more confused and conflicted than before. Peter isn’t managing well, Sirius wants to talk but remains cryptic when you let him, and Bellatrix and Barty prove to be unpredictable companions to say the least.

WC: 8.4k

Tags: Fem!Reader, Use of Y/N, Hunger Games typical warnings of corruption, oppression and widespread pain, mentions of imminent and past death, references to loss and grief, heavy hurt/comfort, bittersweet moments, Barty and Bellatrix are their own warnings, disassociation, kind of miscommunication trope, yearning, childhood best friends (to mentor/tribute to lovers), unwanted physical touches

A/N: huge thanks to my darling aimee (@ailoda) for taking on the feat that is beta-reading this series! keep in mind that this thg au is not thg compliant; i do what i want lol. i am open to doing a taglist if people are interested<3

Perhaps it was an odd aspect to focus on, but the chairs on the Capitol train were ridiculously comfortable.

While District 7 was far from the poorest region, there was not an emphasis on luxury goods either. In large families like the McKinnons, it was not uncommon to struggle to make ends meet, and no waiting room you had ever spent time in had plush seating options. The closest you had come to riches was through Sirius’ parents, who moved from District 1 prior to Sirius’ birth on request from the Capitol. They never would say why; they would never really say anything. At least Sirius and Regulus did not have to want for anything, and they gave whatever support they could to their friends. To you.

Yet, the chairs on the train felt like the most abundant lounge you could have pictured. Textured and ruffled like it was designed for angels.

In a few weeks, that was all you could hope to be, really. Angels.

It felt easier at this moment to focus on the chair. How it felt against your thighs, how it removed aches from your bones, the ones you would have preferred to focus on, because pain was the most distracting thing of all. You wished to place your whole attention, your whole burdened soul inside the soft down of the pillow, to disappear into the microscopic world and not have to face anything.

To hide in your mind was a skill you had always excelled at, especially the past few years. Despite your mastery and best intentions, Sirius broke through.

Even as you blocked out the rest of the room, you were acutely aware of Sirius. You knew he was sitting across from you, table pushed to the side so there were no real barriers between you two. You knew he had his head in his hands, occasionally dragging his fingers through his hair and pulling, as if it would do him any good. You knew he sounded like a man at war; occasionally huffing, grunting, sighing into the nether.

And because you were so aware of Sirius, you unfortunately remained aware of Peter, as Sirius kept looking his way and occasionally speaking to him.

Curled up on the sofa a bit to the left of you, Peter laid crying. Not loud wailing, though he would have been well within his rights to do so. Just silent tears and the occasional hiccup. It tore your heart open and made you want to run further away into yourself.

Bellatrix and Barty – who you had learned seemed to only bring out the worst in each other – sat on the sofa across from Peter, chattering away as if they were not witnesses to this ironic train wreck in motion. Last time you checked in, they were gushing over the potential costumes you and Peter might be dressed in and what dynamics they hoped to see between the tributes in the arena, how their champions would play into it all. Or, at least Bellatrix was talking at Barty with enough enthusiasm to power District 12, You tuned them out long ago, until they became nothing to you.

Like you hoped you would be to them soon.

Sirius nudged your shoe with his.

Your gaze fell to where his foot laid beside yours. You had matching shoes. Even after 5 years in the Capitol, he still wore black boots, as if he was moments away from heading into a forest.

You trailed up to find his insistent eyes on you already. He seemed to have been studying your face, one corner of his lip twitching into a half-smile. He tilted his head at you, almost in question – you had no answer, so you merely shrugged.

That seemed to be enough for him.

Sirius clapped his hands together, loudly enough to disturb Bellatrix and Barty’s conversation – the latter of which sent Sirius a nasty look you had yet to decipher – but not so loud as to startle Peter. “Alright, we have no more time to spare,” Sirius declared, ending the short period he had awarded you all to absorb the shock of the moment. Though, perhaps mostly himself. “Peter, Y/N, why don’t you head to your rooms to breathe or change – there’s rows of clothes to choose from already hung up there – and then the three of us meet up in 30 minutes in the parlor to start talking strategy?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Barty beat you to it.

“What do you mean the three of you, Black?” He somehow managed to snarl and laugh at the same time. “News flash, but your Capitol representatives are meant to be along for the whole ride.”

Sirius didn’t move his gaze to meet Barty’s as he spoke. “You are meant to be just that – representatives. You can join us for meals and public outings, but you have no business joining us outside of that.”

“How lovely of you to think you have a choice, Siri!” Bellatrix purred in a sing-songy tone of voice that did not at all match the contents of her speech. She rose from her seat and began walking in Sirius’ direction. “The parlor in 30 minutes sounds absolutely splendid. We can then discuss how to frame the tragedy that is the three of you in the most entertaining way for the interviews.”

The line of Sirius’ lips was tight and you caught a glimpse of his eyes flashing, but Bellatrix moved in front of him before you could read him further, blocking your view. You could hear him open his mouth, but Bellatrix lifted an arm to place a finger in his face, presumably over his lips. “Sh, sh, sh, little Prince, save the tantrums for the cameras.”

She flicked the finger over his nose as she moved past him to float towards the door. When you saw Sirius’ face again, his eyes were squeezed shut, head turned to the side.

Bellatrix made a whistling sound that had Barty rolling his eyes and standing up – did she call on him? If that was what she did, he apparently listened for all intents and purposes, striding through the space between you and Sirius. These Capitol people seemed to walk as if it took no effort, as if they weighed next to nothing, movements all tied together in beautiful elegance.

The smirk and wink Barty shot you as he passed was neither.

The door slammed shut with a bang that, though expected, made Peter jump in his seat where he was just beginning to sit up and gather himself. You smiled sadly at him as he stared down into the floor.

Sirius, on the other hand, opened his eyes with a sigh. He took a moment to look between you and Peter, lingering on you when you actually met his eye. There was a miniscule shake of his head, seemingly instinctive, before he cleared his throat. “Alright. I meant what I said. I’ll take you two to your rooms to collect yourselves alone, and then we’ll talk strategy.”

So much for catching up.

There were a hundred things to be said, but the mere thought of raising any of the points made your blood heat uncomfortably. Instead, you nodded and got up from your seat, squaring your shoulders.

Half on instinct, half to make some connection with the one person you truly know in this place, you moved past Sirius to give Peter a hand up. At last, when you stood before him, he looked up to meet your eyes, tears still swimming in his blue irises.

“C’mon, Petey,” you whispered, squeezing his shoulder with one hand and grabbing his hand with the other. He huffed a breath you wondered if maybe was supposed to be a friendly sign as he clutched onto you in turn, allowing you to help him up. You brushed off the invisible dust on his sleeves and smiled more assuredly this time, before turning on your heel and facing Sirius.

When he didn’t say anything, just stared emptily at the scene before him – your hands hovering over Peter, Peter’s lip audibly quivering – you once again cut through the silence. “Go on then.” Not your most politest, but you did not have it in you to be right now. You figured you should be allowed some sins, now towards the end.

Sirius seemed to snap out of it but merely nodded in turn, gesturing for you both to follow as he made his way out of the room.

The atmosphere was nothing short of awkward as you and Peter trailed behind Sirius through the impossibly long and winding corridors of the train. You had never really felt the age difference between you and Sirius while growing up, it was barely a year and you both assumed the positions of the older kids looking out for younger siblings and friends. Yet now, walking directly behind his broad back, defined with lean muscle that rippled with how tense he was, you felt so impossibly small. Not necessarily physically, just in every sense that mattered. You and Peter were like a set of puppies, stumbling after the seasoned elder, and you despised it.

You reached out a hand behind you to find Peter’s. Some of the tension seeped out of you when he gripped you in return, his firm fingers settling beside yours like a welcome weight.

“That one there is Peter’s room.” Sirius came to a stop at the end of the hall, four doors on each side. He nodded with his chin towards one that was slightly ajar as he spoke. “And yours is across the hall.” He didn’t say your name, just set his intense eyes on some vague point beside your head.

You looked away.

Squeezing Peter’s hand, you let go and gestured for him to enter his room first. Though it might not make a difference, you wanted to be with him as he entered, so he didn’t have to do it alone. Peter took small steps towards his room, pushing the door open with the tips of his fingers. To both your and seemingly Peter’s surprise, he gasped, and took a proper step into the room – it was huge, much more so than you would have expected to be possible on a train. Sirius had been right, there was an open closet filled with clothes to the right, and a bed in the middle that looked just as plush as the sofas.

“Yeah, live it up, Petey,” Sirius said dryly, a semblance of that old humour of his you remembered leaking into his voice. “It’ll be even better in the Capitol. See you in a bit.”

With more ushering than perhaps necessary, Sirius encouraged Peter to walk completely in, and shut the door gently behind him.

As Sirius turned to look at you, you turned away from him, hand already placed on your own door handle. You pushed it down and made to enter when you felt Sirius’ cold fingers curl around your elbow. It was a stark contrast to how Bellatrix would grab you, this was a featherlight touch, as if you were delicate, as if you were precious.

It made you look up at him through your lashes to find him already scanning your face.

“Y/N…” He trailed off.

You placed your fingers over his, careful to study how his face seemingly perked up at your touch, only to fall when you peeled his hand off of you. “Later, Sirius. If you want to explain, absolve your soul while you can or whatever, then do it later. Spare me right now. I just want to lay down.”

You took a small step towards the door again. Sirius pressed his lips harshly together before nodding, putting on a forced smile for a second. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right, we can talk it out later – but until then, quit talking like that.”

“Like what?”

“About absolution and doing things while you can. Quit talking like you’re dying.” You could tell by the look on his face that he was being serious, but that didn’t ease up the knot in your chest at all.

All you could do was to hum noncommittally and turn around to enter your room. You didn’t lift your eyes to look at Sirius before you shut the door in his face.

You did not have it in you to change; you would rather cling to what you had from home. Instead, you sat down cross-legged on the floor in front of a full body mirror and leaned your forehead against it, slumping in preemptive defeat.

With laboured but increasingly measured breathing, you tried to get an overview of your situation thus far, playing over the past three hours to digest.

You wish your first thought was something poetic, something deep – some grand final words you could write in your diary that would be distributed all throughout your district as an ode to your memory once you’re slaughtered in an arena by some District 2 child for entertainment. You wished that if not your life, at least your mind could be worth something.

Nothing came to you though. Your first and most eloquent thought remained: fuck.

You were truly and genuinely fucked, why would you think of anything else? A part of your mind tried to remind you of Sirius’ request, his near-plea, to not talk like that, but how could you? He didn’t tell you what else to think of if not that.

Staring at your increasingly hollow reflection, you found you were left with more questions than answers.

The events of the day flashed before you and you did your best to file away only what you thought might be of significance to you going forward. Mary’s teary face and Marlene’s insistent eyes were important to you but not helpful, so you pushed them aside. Instead, you tried to bring forth any mention of this year’s games, anything Barty and Bellatrix have said or done that can give you an indication of what lays ahead of you.

It was clear that Bellatrix knew that you and Peter knew Sirius. Reunion, conundrum, loverboy. Her hints were a far cry of subtle, let alone tasteful, though you thought perhaps that was her goal exactly. At this moment, feeling like a young girl stowed away in your room, you had no idea what to do with that knowledge – but you held onto it, knowing you had to gain answers somehow.

The one thing you could do in what felt like an ocean of confusion and despair was to try and grasp onto some form of strategy to carry you through. Not the strategies Sirius was talking about for the games, but a personal strategy, a perhaps feeble but significant attempt at maintaining your sanity. Yourself.

Thoughts would float by and you would try to keep only those that might help you survive mentally until it is finally your physical life on the line, on the pods in the arena.

Yet, even as you managed to let your hometown and your fears go, your thoughts still snaked away towards Sirius, a miniature betrayal it had committed against you every day for the past 5 years. You didn’t understand him, you didn’t understand how he avoided your every question and statement, yet still seemed so insistent on your survival and his apologies.

It had been years and all you had wanted was to hear his voice again, even hear some of the specific words he said – but now, they felt hollow even in their sweetness.

I had to go, I’m sorry, I know you.

It reminded you painfully of the words that had haunted you up until this day: I’m sorry, I had to. You’re wonderful. I love you. You’ll be okay. I love you.

I bloody swear to you, he had said to you just some hours ago, you will make it through these games. As you envisioned his face when you saw Peter and recalled how you yourself felt when you listened to his quiet cries, you knew he could not mean that anymore. There was more than you on the line.

Whether it was a panic attack or a fit of rage that was brewing, you knew you needed to shake it off. Far from 30 minutes had passed, you thought maximum 10 – you really would need a clock in the arena – but you couldn’t stay put any longer.

Climbing to your feet, you ruffled your hair and squeezed your cheeks to try and feel better, paving away the chaos to instead focus on what is right in front of you. That had to be your strategy then. Moment by moment, step by step.

Opening your door tentatively, you stepped outside it, stopping for a mere moment in front of Peter’s. Wondering if you should go inside, listening to catch whether he was crying.

You didn’t hear anything distinct, and even if you had, you didn’t think you would be much comfort for him at the moment.

The corridors you walked through were highly industrial, another stark contrast to your hometown that was mostly built on wood and a few bricks. They felt the perfect amount of inhuman – while you were sure some design and craftsmanship had gone into building even this train, it felt void of interest and love. Just as a Capitol train should be.

The humming of the wheels were distant but ever present as you explored, feeling almost like you were sneaking out past curfew.

Not that you used to have a curfew, but Sirius did, and you would ditch it together. He was never one to be construed by Walburga and Orion’s chains – as he called them – and would ask you to meet him at the corner of their property at midnight. You might run through the woodlands surrounding you, lay down in a field and watch the stars, climb onto the roof of your primary school and point out whatever landmarks you spotted across town, sharing memories even though most of them had been made together.

Sirius’ childlike laughter echoed faintly in your ears when his real voice cut through your thoughts.

At the very end of a hallway that opened up into a larger room filled with seating arrangements and shelves, there was one final door to your right. It was slightly ajar, not enough for you to look in, but enough for you to hear.

“You mean to tell me this is a fucking coincidence?” Sirius’ tone was seething even in its whisper, but the anger didn’t seem to be directed at any one individual.

There was no response in the momentary silence before he continued. “She was never supposed to be picked, which means they did it on purpose. Pete is just the nail in the bloody coffin.”

Your brows furrowed, your hand coming up to steady yourself on the wall. It sounded like he was talking to someone, but you couldn’t hear anyone else.

“I don’t bloody care if they do, I–” He drew a sharp breath, you could picture the slight parting of his lips revealing white teeth. “Sorry. No, I know, fuck. Sorry, gods – I don’t want to keep saying that. Yeah. Yeah, sure.”

His voice faded into indecipherable mumbles.

You knew he was talking about you. He had to be, and the implications hit you like an arrow – both the implications of his words and of him talking about you in the first place.

If you were trying to clear your head, this surely was not helping you in the slightest. With the effort only a tribute must possess, you pushed off the wall and kept walking into what seemed to be the parlor, head keeping straight forward and not trying to steal a glance through the gap in the door.

You set your focus on the chandelier they had somehow managed to squeeze into the middle of this open space in the middle of the train. It cast the room in a light yellow glow, highlighting the different textures in the many pieces of even-more comfortable cushions across the room.

It was a comfort you didn’t want at the moment; you walked towards the window at the end of the room instead, seeing the outskirts of your district disappearing in a haze of browns and greens.

“You’re early.”

You only turned your head slightly to see Sirius walking slowly into the room, putting a small rectangular object into the sidepocket of his sturdy trousers. His face was carefully measured, but his eyes still betrayed him, eyes boring into yours with an underlying current dancing through the grey.

“Oddly enough I didn’t feel like being cooped up.” You made an active effort to not add some comment about spending your final days in a more worthwhile manner.

Sirius still felt it based on the way the corners of his lips twitched. He neared you, standing at the edge of the sofa closest to the window you were tracing with your fingertips – it wasn’t as cold as you were hoping. “Even though you said you wanted to lay down?” he asked, a certain mirth mixing into his tone, referring to your excuse from earlier.

You shrugged, nonplussed. “I did. I only needed a minute or two.”

Sirius’ gaze softened as he leaned his weight against the sofa, crossing his arms as he regarded you. “Take as many minutes as you need, princess,” he whispered.

You turned then, mirroring his stance as you leaned against the window. His face was open, laid bare for you even in his continuing torment.

“Can you make this make sense to me?” It wasn’t the question you wanted to ask the most, but it was the one you figured you might gain the most help from. Sirius used to be your clarity in situations like these.

He breathed in deeply, looking down in respite. “Five years ago, I survived the Hunger Games and was asked to stay in the Capitol. I did. Today, against all bloody odds, you and Peter were reaped, and got stuck with me as your mentor, and those two as your Capitol escorts. Together, we have to figure out how to get you through it.”

It was a rehearsed speech, laid prepared on his tongue, the Sparknotes poison you had asked for. His tone was controlled, some bitterness still leaking through

Asked to stay.

“Why?”

Sirius looked up at you then, an exasperated smile teasing his lips. “Which why are you searching for, princess?”

Why did you stay? Why were we reaped, if you don’t think it was a coincidence?

For some inexplicable reason, you took pity on him and shook your head, trying to reflect his half-smile. “Let’s not. Let’s not.”

If Sirius could soften more with all his muscles and grit on display in his skintight black tshirt, he did. He pushed off the sofa, as if on his way towards you, beginning to speak. “Whatever you wan–”

When a high-pitched giggle made its way down the hall, he cut himself short with a frown and turned his head – you did the same.

“I’m happy to see we’re at a respectable distance this time,” Bellatrix said through a grin as she walked in, swirling down into a seat on the sofa Sirius was leaning against. “Your fans will be much more pleased this way.”

Sirius’ jaw ticked, gaze moving from Bellatrix to Barty who had trailed in behind her and opted to lean against the doorway, arms crossed much like Sirius’ and a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“I thought I told you to stay away for this meeting.” Sirius tried, despite all of you remembering just how that went last time.

“And I thought I told you where to stick it.” Barty’s tone was somehow both teasing and menacing.

Sirius scoffed, but the sound was tight as his eyes twitched at the sight before him. He looked between the two Capitol representatives with disdain. “Try to be of help then, why don’t you? Scaring the tributes is not going to help anyone win.”

Bellatrix twirled her black curls as she grinned. “You don’t want us to upset your sweetheart, Siri?”

“I don’t want you to terrify my friends, no.” Sirius’ tone was cool as he replied. “And we’re still waiting for Peter.”

“Pipsqueak is lost somewhere behind there.” Barty pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “Didn’t know where the parlor was.”

Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose. “And you didn’t help him?”

Barty snorted. “No, why would I?”

Tired of simply witnessing this miniature battle of wits, you pushed off the wall and began walking towards the doorway Barty was currently blocking. “Don’t bother, I’ll go find him,” you announced. “Then we can get this over with.”

Barty didn’t move. He still filled the doorway, grinning at you like the Cheshire cat. “You need something, sweetheart?”

“Would you move so I could go get Peter?” You were already exhausted by this, not willing to entertain his games.

“Junior,” Sirius warned quietly behind you. It took you a second to realise he was talking to Barty.

Barty’s gaze flitted between the two of you, grin never faltering. “Aren’t you going into the arena? You can’t let someone standing in the doorway stop you. Move me yourself.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t have an axe right now. So. Move,” you said dryly, referring to Sirius’ infamous weapon of choice.

Barty chuckled, but – despite your assumptions – moved to let you pass, instead walking over to plop down on the sofa, sprawled out like he owned the place. “You might make the games less boring for me after all, birdie.”

You didn’t deign it with a response as you headed down the less-lit hallway to find Peter. You could hear Bellatrix’s voice faintly in the background, grateful for a short reprieve.

It wasn’t hard to find Peter, yet you purposefully stalled on the way back. He had been roaming in the other direction, apparently on advice from Barty, utterly lost and confused. His face when he heard your voice and whipped around was enough to soften the stone in your stomach somewhat and you walked in comfortable silence on the way back.

“Ah! There they are!” Bellatrix sounded elated, clapping her hands together as you and Peter emerged. Sirius’ head picked up too, offering you both a tight smile. He had moved to stand by the window you had been by earlier, fingertips lingering the same way yours had.

As you went in, you moved to drag a chair up beside the two sofas, creating a half circle of sorts, and brought your knees up to your chest.

“Petey, why don’t you sit with me, mate?” Barty said, faux friendliness dripping all over his sentence.

“You don’t have to do that Peter.” Your response was immediate.

Peter looked between you for half a second, eyes wide, before smiling nervously. “It’s, erm, alright Y/N. I’ll just sit.” He sat down on the end closest to you, but Barty moved closer, arm over the edge of the sofa, fingertips almost tickling Peter’s hair. He was enjoying this way too much.

Sirius seemingly agreed with you, pushing off the wall with his foot and walking to stand beside your chair where he could see all of you. “Okay then. Let’s talk business.”

“Yes, let us,” Bellatrix said, sitting up in her seat. “We should start with optics. How shall we frame our little triangular tragedy here?”

“There is no more tragedy here than in every other district.” Sirius’ arms were folded, displaying every muscle he had earned over the past five years, and his face was equally as focussed. “We should focus on their strengths as individuals instead. Peter is resourceful and Y/N is–”

“Desirable. That’s how we should market her – if the Capitol’s heartthrob is all sweet on her, then surely everyone else would be too.” Her eyes were gleaming, set dead on Sirius, as if you weren’t there despite the way she was talking about you.

Your breath was caught and there was a twinging of your heart warring with the rage in your stomach, but Sirius beat you to it.

“Stop.” His tone was firm, one that would leave no room for argument had he been addressing any other two people in the world. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Focus on what matters.”

“Stop what?” Barty laughed, inserting himself into the ridicule unfolding before you. “Addressing everyone’s favourite rumours? We would be stupid not to add it to our narrative. Just because you don’t want to say you lov–”

“That. Stop that, right now.” Sirius’ eyes were hardened as he set his sights on the two of them. “I don’t give a fuck about any rumours. These two, Y/N and Peter, are like my siblings. Sister and brother. The younger kids I looked after back home. We grew up together, yes, but we also grew apart when I moved to the Capitol. That is the true narrative and the one we will be sticking to, disproving all others. You want to be a team? You want to join our meetings? Then we must front the same picturesque storyline.”

Your neck felt like it had been snapped and your lungs punctured from the whiplash. It took every last bit of your willpower for your face to remain neutral, even as Sirius metaphorically slapped it.

You were embarrassed that the cryptic rumours they were referring to was not what spread the most alarm in your head.

Siblings. It wasn’t even funny how sour that word tasted on your tongue, and it hadn’t even been you who said it.

The Sirius who was speaking now was not one you had grown apart from, it was one you didn’t know. It was evident to you that this was a theatre, a performance, even if it lacked the theatrical joys you had previously associated with this very same boy. His face was firm, disconnected and determined all at the same time, a mix of opposites that only the Capitol could concoct in someone.

Bellatrix barked a laugh, seemingly not buying it. “Siblings? That is the narrative you prefer going with?” She tsked. “You have so many juicy television opportunities here, Black, and you go for the most boring one?”

Sirius sat down on the armrest of the sofa, shoulders squared to look broader. More intimidating. “Television, Lestrange, is supposed to last for the entirety of the games, not just the preparations before it. If you limit these tributes to a storyline that cannot follow into the arena, they are doomed to irrelevance. You don’t want boring tributes do you? You want a victor.”

He leaned back, looking at her with a gaze that told you he knew he had her. “Instead of some irrelevant rumour sob story, we explain their connections to me as a strength. An older brother who taught them, who they learned from. Give them framings and stories within their own rights. It will carry on into the arena through intrigue and comparisons in a way soapbox drama never will. I thought you knew this. It’s basic strategy, Bella.”

He was smirking now, an expression of glee that seemed more for effect, a final push, than a reflection of any genuine mirth. Bellatrix, on the other hand, had lost a lot of her usual fanatics, instead of staring Sirius down in an indiscernible manner.

“While I love that you get to hash out your drama,” you said, irony poison dripping from your words, “would somebody explain what teh fuck we’re talking about? What rumours?” You didn’t care that you were rude, you didn’t care how Sirius’ eyes twitched. You were wounded and frankly irritated to be spoken of and not to.

Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but Barty’s bark of laughter interrupted him. “What, Capitol news doesn't trickle all the way down to 7?” There was no hiding the condescension in his tone, but his glee somehow shone even brighter. “Beloved victor Sirius Black is rumoured to be in love with some girl from his district, much to everyone’s utter heartbreak.”

“Which is ridiculous considering I haven’t even been to 7 since I volunteered.” Sirius was strictly looking at Barty, ignoring your burning gaze. “Tabloids getting bored and sparking up irrelevant drama shouldn’t be involved in the Hunger Games where there is actual action to focus on.”

Bellatrix tsked. “Don’t underestimate the power of a good love story, Siri.”

“This wouldn’t be a good one – it would be far-fetched. Y/N and Peter are like my siblings. I haven’t even seen them in 5 years. Can we focus on strategies that are actually worthwhile, please?”

You felt nauseated and dizzy but nodded to signify that you were in agreement. Anything that would ease the teasing and bring you back to the fact that you were mere days away from the end of a blade.

You were beginning to grow nervous that they would refuse, that they would try to analyse the potential of a love story, when Barty kicked his legs up on the table with a loud bam and folded his hands over his stomach. “Alright, then. Whatever. Big Black and his two woodchippers take on the arena.”

Bellatrix scoffed.

“If we’re to have learned from Sirius… does that mean we have to use axes like you did?” Peter, to your surprise, piped up, looking uncomfortable with the idea.

Sirius kept his business-face on as he bobbed his head side to side. “Maybe pose with one for a couple of promo shots, depending on the public’s reactions. But in the arena, you use whatever you need whenever you need.”

You didn’t say anything. Couldn’t, despite yourself and despite the fire in your veins.

Siblings.

You watched Sirius expressionlessly and noticed how his eyebrow closest to you kept twitching. You caught him casting a quick side glance your way, but it didn’t linger enough for you to analyse.

“Have you got no input on this, birdie?” Barty’s voice drawled, and you knew he was talking to you.

Without looking at him, you bobbed your head much the same way Sirius just had. “I don’t really give a shit about rumours or narratives or what anyone thinks of anything. I care about the part where I’m stuck in an arena to fight to the death.”

In a swift movement, Barty lurched up from his seat on the sofa and crossed Peter to sit on its armrest, body leaned forward into your personal space. His fingers were somehow elegant even in their bordering-on violent endeavour as they shot out to grip your chin.

“So you want to die then?”

“Junior,” Sirius hissed, pushing off his opposite armrest at the same time as Barty to stand before the two of you. Ready to intervene.

The latter shot him a sideway glance with a wicked smirk looking between Sirius’ face and yours. “You are not fooling anyone,” he laughed heartily at Sirius before zeroing his green eyes in on you. “And you are choosing imminent death if you keep up your nonchalant attitude. It’s the Hunger Games. Play your part or get played.”

You held his gaze despite the churning in your stomach, biting back a comment about that choice already haven been taken from you. Instead, you said, in a voice a tad bit quieter than you would have preferred, “What game do you want us to play then, Junior?”

His smirk faltered for only a second before he released you with a huff. Leaning backwards, he let his body tip over the side of the armrest to land on his back on the sofa across Peter’s lap, who froze with his hands hovering in the air. You could just barely see his teeth flash. “I’m the one who gets to not care. I’m here for the circus, not the show, darling, and I’m counting on you to make it interesting. Show a little heart.”

Your eyelashes fluttered in confusion at the biting yet uncaring tone he sported, entirely uncertain where to place him. Bellatrix just scoffed once more, clearly upset with the day’s developments, while Sirius remained overtly tense beside you, fists dangling at his sides, clenched.

“Well, I think–”

Sirius cut Bellatrix off immediately. “Enough! That’s enough, alright? This is a brainstorming session, not a bickering one. The narrative is that the District 7 tributes this year are close friends, two kids I used to train and look after like siblings when we were younger. I will make a plan for how we present Y/N and Peter together and then I will go over individual strategies with them at a later point. Need I remind anyone that all of us rely on a good presentation?”

He spoke to you all, but it was clear it was pointed in the direction of Barty, who was quite literally kicking his feet over the armrest, much to Peter’s heightened nerves, and Bellatrix, who was beginning to look utterly bored with you all.

Their silence was their consent, so Sirius went on to look at Peter, accepting his meek nod. Then he turned to you, almost hesitantly.

There was a storm in your eyes at how you were being spoken of, how you were being treated – but you didn’t know if Sirius could interpret that anymore. If he could, it didn’t stop him as he nodded to himself as he began to pace around the lot of you.

“Alright. Alright. Any final inputs before we part ways for dinner?”

“What, you don’t want to dine with us, Siri?” At Sirius’ increasing distress, Bellatrix seemed to find her footing once more.

“We don’t have the time to spare. It’s late anyway.” He stopped for a second to look at his two former friends. His siblings. “There’s a dining hall around five rooms down that way. Pick out anything you want. This place is yours, be comfortable.”

Peter nodded quickly. “Yes, I know where– I, uhm, found it… earlier.” He shot Barty a weary look, referring to his earlier diversion, making the older boy nearly giggle with delight.

“Great.” Sirius’ voice was calmer now, tired. He looked between you and Peter, but struggled to let his gaze rest. “Good job today. I– I’ll see you tomorrow.

You swallowed hard and realised you would probably struggle eating any dinner. Yet, you tried to stick to your earlier idea of moment by moment, step by step, so you nodded with your lips tightly pressed together.

“Yeah thanks. Same. Let’s go, Peter.”

It took some time to wrestle an entertained Barty off of Peter, but you headed back down the same hall you retrieved him from earlier, not looking back over your shoulder as you did so.

Just like the seats, the food provided by the Capitol was delicious. It was lush and rich, to an almost too intense degree, making you feel more like cattle fattened up for slaughter and less like important guests.

You ate what you could as quickly as you could, and then you were left jumping your leg beneath the table as you waited for Peter to finish too – you knew you couldn’t leave him alone lest Barty or Bellatrix found him, but you were suddenly craving being cooped up in your room in the very same way that had stifled you earlier.

Luckily, it didn’t seem that Barty and Bellatrix wanted to play with you any longer. Maybe it wasn’t as fun when Sirius wasn’t there, or maybe they were just too focussed on plaguing him wherever he was.

You told yourself you didn’t feel bad for him. You had grown accustomed to lying.

You kept lying to yourself as Peter finished and you went back to your designated rooms, you kept lying as you hugged him goodnight and went each your way, you kept lying as you laid down on your ridiculously soft bed.

The lies were many and merry; that you didn’t care; that you cared too much; that you were okay; that you were not okay. That you had any hope of sleeping tonight.

Sleeping had never been your forté, so after the violence of the Reaping and the reunion of a lifetime, you had little luck.

You even lied as you told yourself you had tried for long enough. Truth be told, despite your time blindness you had a feeling you hadn’t been in bed for too long before you got out of it to stand in front of the mirror once more. Memorising yourself.

You did eventually change into some of the clothes the Capitol provided, though they didn’t seem real. You were wearing what was supposed to be pyjamas, but they were much too reminiscent of normal trousers and shirts for you to feel like you were about to go to sleep. It made you miss your old ratty sleep shirt at home, but even the thought of it worsened your ache. It had been Sirius’.

With a sharp breath, you decided to explore the halls once more. Not for any thrill of adventure, you just had an inexplicable need to find a window to look out of. To watch the world pass by.

You walked in the opposite direction of the parlor, further and further back, wanting to find the very end of your district’s compartment of the train. To know that behind yours were two tributes from District 8, two people you would soon be pitted against, brought a chill up your spine.

At last you meet a door in the middle of the hallway. The train was long and huge, but it cannot go on for longer than this, you thought. This must be the final room of your compartment, the one with the huge windows you had always noticed when you watched it from the outside.

Your hand falls to the handle. Gently, you open it.

“Oh–” The first thing your eyes landed on when you entered the room was not the landscape you had so longed for, but Sirius’ own staring back at you. Grey like the mountains cornering you but deep like the oceans you would pass in District 4. He was sitting down, as if he had had the same thought as you to come here to watch the windows. The thought pained you. “Sorry, I didn’t– I’ll go.”

Sirius shot up and out of his seat, taking just one step forward. “No! You don’t… you don’t have to. You shouldn’t. Come sit, I’ll go, if you want.”

There was a lot to decipher in that sentence, a lot that you frankly did not have the energy for. Instead, you regarded him for one more second before slowly closing the door and moving to sit on the opposite side of the sofa from him. It was a cream – also, stupidly comfortable – sofa that stretched out in a half-circle at the very end of your compartment of the train. The wall above it was steel grey, barricading you from the next part of the train, but the walls on either side were wide floor-to-ceiling windows; the ones you had longed for. They were certainly reinforced to a degree you could never even imagine to ensure they wouldn’t break.

You didn’t tell him whether you wanted him to leave. You just sat sideways on the sofa, leaning your head against the last bit of grey wall and looking out the window closest to you.

“If you sit down on the floor and stare straight ahead, it’ll feel like you’re flying.” His voice was softened, a stark contrast to your earlier meeting.

You still couldn’t help but bite back. “What a nice brother you are, giving out advice to the younger kids.”

It sounded like it pained him when he sighed. “Y/N–”

“Don’t.” You still weren’t looking at him, staring blankly ahead. “Just… don’t.”

You weren’t quite sure why you were upset with him. It was so much and yet nothing at all, stretching out across the past five hours and five years. You were upset with him for leaving, of course you were, and you were upset with him for changing, but of course he had. You were upset with him for confusing you so much, both through his words and actions, and perhaps, through your feelings.

There was no time or need to address them now, yet they ruled much of your visible dismay as you got caught up on how he wanted to present you to the world.

Siblings.

Sirius was quiet for a moment; then, you heard the soft sound of him walking across the room to settle down on the floor in front of the window closest to you, just like he had said you should. He stared out, but you could feel him observing you in his periphery.

“There is a lot for you to resent me for,” he whispered. “Please don’t let that be one of them.”

Part of your brain wanted to rage against him for being cryptic.

The other just asked, “Why?”

He leaned back on his arms, biceps flexing, looking with an empty gaze into the mountainside. “It’s for your own good.”

“Why?”

Maybe you were being petulant. Maybe he deserved you being petulant if he wanted to cast himself as your older brother.

Sirius made an exasperated sound and shook his head, turning to look at you – you didn’t return the gesture. “Princess, don’t make me spell it out for you, it’s worse enough as is. Everything will be better if people think we see each other in a familial sense.”

“As opposed to the truth, which is what?” At last, you turned to face him, doing your best to school away your pain, but still being left with an indent between your brows. You didn’t know what you wanted him to say.

Evidently, neither did Sirius. All he did was whisper your name, so pleadingly, so achingly it made your throat hurt.

“Being your sibling didn’t make them think any more favourably of Regulus.” The words were out of your mouth before you could help them, though thankfully with less ire than before. Just a mixture of your own confusion and heartache.

Sirius closed his eyes as if he got nauseated. He seemed to weigh his words carefully, face scrunched up as his muscles tensed. With memories of Sirius throwing Regulus around in circles, their laughter harmonising as they ran after you through the streets, you had no choice but to give him time.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, the first apology you uttered to him. “Is he…?” You trailed off. To ask was insensitive, it was cruel – but it was necessary. You needed to know.

Sirius’ face remained trapped in his pained scrunched up expression. He didn’t seem angry with your question, though you never had seen him angry with you.

“Yes.”

The word hung heavy in the air between you like a suspended body. It was everything you had expected and nothing you had hoped. You didn’t ask how he knew.

Silently, you slid off the edge of the sofa and scooted over to sit beside Sirius, whose breath hitched. Just like him, you faced the window, but you had your knees hiked up and your arms wrapped around them. You laid your head tentatively down on top of them, turned towards him. Watched as the environments flurrying by cast coloured patterns over his alabaster skin, watched as his eyebrows twitched as if he would start crying.

Watched as silent, warm tears rolled down your own cheeks.

When he peeled his eyes open and met yours, they softened. His brows were still furrowed together and he swallowed heavily.

His hand just barely shook as he reached up to wipe the tear on your right cheek away with his thumb, touch gentle and cool against your skin. You closed your eyes and sighed.

Sirius let his hand drop from your face and it felt like a loss.

Neither of you said a word for a minute. There were so many things you wanted to say, needed to ask. Yet nothing came to mind. Just two kids sitting beside one another, trying to remember how to breathe.

“Tomorrow when you arrive at the Capitol…” Sirius whispered, trailing off. You found his eyes to be redrimmed when you opened yours, once again staring out the window emptily. “Just… don’t trust anyone, okay?”

He sounded more haunted than ever. “I wasn’t planning on it,” you whispered in return, half-wanting to lighten his torment.

“And, I know– I know that should include me. I know you don’t trust me. But please, can you try to listen to me anyway?”

You watched him silently. You couldn’t deny him even if you wanted. “I will.”

Sirius nodded once, twice. Then, he shook his head and rose to his feet effortlessly. He looked down at you and reached out a hand, an open invitation.

You held his gaze for longer than you should have before you turned your head back forward to look out the window, resting your chin on your knees. You were grateful to not have to see his reaction.

Still, you could hear his soft sigh. “Get some sleep soon, alright princess?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, suddenly fascinated by the granite. “Soon.”

Your every muscle sat at rapt attention, listening to his footsteps as he walked to the door. They ceased for a minute when he reached it, and you almost turned your head to look back at him – before the hinges finally creaked and Sirius disappeared.

You doubted you would get to spend enough time with him before your games to make the aching panic stop seizing your chest whenever he leaves. You reminded yourself that he is headed off to bed to sleep, not to the annual Hunger Games.

This time around, that would be you.

You turn your blurry eyes back to the window and find that when you stare into the middle of it, it does feel like you’re flying.

190 notes · View notes

scliffe · 3 months ago

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This is quite a subjective opinion; but I am endlessly fascinated by how the romanticization (or sentimentalization) of Sebastian and Ciel’s relationship is such a big, important part of Kuroshitsuji—partly due to Sebastian’s own nature as a demon, but also due to Ciel’s character himself.

Sebastian is evil, and he is meant to lure people into damnation. He is the embodiment of a poisonous yet appealing temptation. He speaks sweet, gentle words. He is undeniably physically attractive, and generally, people find him charming. I can go on forever, but you get the gist; all of him is designed to slowly attract and lull people into complacency with him—into not seeing the predatory nature that lurks beneath that gorgeous skin.

This powerful creature, who can kill people with his bare hands, prefers to use sweet promises over threats—finding physical torture less effective than honey; so confident in his ability to understand human desires and tempt any person into the route he designs for them. He presents people with two choices; one of which seems infinitely more attractive than the other—but would certainly lead them to damnation. And it delights him very much when they inevitably chooses the sweeter option. It seems to be essential to the demonic contract that the contractor gets to choose (even if the choice was most likely—almost always—highly uninformed).

Now; if the contractor was an unassuming human who was tempted or fooled by the demon, or if the contractor was someone who’d kill and sacrifice another person on purpose, maybe we would say, “Well, he did that to himself.” Or even, “He deserved that.” But not only did Ciel manage to summon Sebastian by happenstance; he—arguably—did not have much choices other than to agree to the contract; it was either the contract or death at the hands of the cultists.

His consent was highly dubious (not that Sebastian ever cares); he was in a state of emotional distress—unfit to be making choices that would define the rest of his life—not to mention his youth, his vulnerability, and the glaring power imbalance with the predatory adults and demon surrounding him. From that moment on, his soul is forfeit; no matter how many times Ciel states that he is firm on his revenge and that he is doing this for himself—you can always argue that he is only saying this because the choice is either this or death.

Still, instead of highlighting the dubious nature of this agreement, the author shows that despite his young age, he is perceptive enough to read through Sebastian’s lies and see Sebastian’s true nature for what it is, and still “chooses” to have the contract. The author repeatedly, over and over, shows Ciel “choosing” this road for himself, Ciel saying that he has no need for the past and will not look back—and the whole time that Ciel charges unwaveringly into the darkness, Sebastian looks at him and smiles meaningfully.

Since we have no idea what “souls” present in Kuroshitsuji; the concept of what Ciel is actually paying with in order to get his revenge is exceedingly vague—it’s difficult to feel loss over something with an unknown value. This is exacerbated by Ciel’s easy acceptance of his own fate, and the practical logic on how it’s simply fair to pay a servant for his services.

Sebastian, for his part; always revels and delights in how Ciel chooses him. He basks in it, and gloats about it; the dubious nature of Ciel’s agreement forgotten, or frankly does not even seem to compute in Sebastian’s mind. What’s important is that Ciel made a choice; and that choice was Sebastian. We know that Sebastian will eventually kill Ciel, but we may contend that Sebastian is good for him. Sebastian saved Ciel and Ciel consented to having Sebastian. Sebastian gave Ciel the autonomy and independence and protection he desperately needed. And this does not come out of nowhere; as the author too, seems to deliberately romanticize/sentimentalize their relationship—the readers are simply picking up on the context cues.

They are certainly predator and prey; but people may love their appeal as a pair of lovers, like Bonnie and Clyde; or as found family along with the rest of the servants; they are partners-in-crime; soulmates; always understanding each other with just a glance, simply meant to be together, there is no Ciel without Sebastian and vice versa, etc.; it’s all a terribly romantic and sentimental view of their relationship.

The portrayal of Sebastian as a loyal and caring protector (although he is always hiding his hunger and fangs) and Ciel as a brave and pitiable victim resolutely seeking justice (although he arguably never had much choices) are done on purpose to allow their relationship to be romanticized/sentimentalized by the readers who want to root for them. If Sebastian was not portrayed attractively enough; if he wasn’t a handsome, gentle caretaker, who is devotedly loyal to Ciel and protects him from kidnappers and assassins and whatnots (see how he treats Ciel so much better compared to Ciel’s fellow humans?), this romanticization of him will not be possible. Likewise, if Ciel was portrayed as an innocent run-off-the-mill ten year old—instead of a smart one, a perceptive one, one who is “mature for his age”; if Ciel was a regular noble instead of the Queen’s watchdog; one who is meant to be the Earl of Phantomhive despite being born as an underdog (which makes the readers want to root for him and believe him to be capable of besting a demon on the negotiation table)—we will not be reading the contract scene and thinking, “Can he outsmart the demon?” Or even, “Well, certainly this ten year old understands what he is doing.” We would have instead understood the contract to be an exploitation of the child’s vulnerability and circumstances. Instead, Ciel is portrayed as wanting the contract; willing to sacrifice his soul to get his revenge; a fully-consenting party in a mutually beneficial agreement. When Sebastian offers his hand, Ciel consensually places his own hand in Sebastian’s.

What is truly “good” for Ciel becomes a moral dilemma that the readers cannot solve, and Sebastian’s true “feelings” (or whether he has any at all) is never explained. The readers are left to guess and come up with our own theories that will remain unanswered—we insist that Ciel needs and wants Sebastian, that Sebastian cares for Ciel beyond seeing him as food; and the whole thing is so morally dubious, but we are given a lot of incentives to see them in a positive, sentimental light. Every once in a while something may happen that seems to reinforce our beliefs in their relationship, but never fully confirm how they feel towards each other. The occasional “warning bells” reminding us of Sebastian’s nature as a demon are—more often than not—ignored, as the future when the contract ends still seems so far away, and regardless; Ciel is far too dependent on Sebastian to even think of living without him.

#the unhealthy dependence; the dubious consent; the insane power imbalance;#the way ciel isolates himself from every other person in his life and maintain emotional distance #they have all the signs of a toxic relationship without the toxicity #matching each other’s freaks perfectly like a jigzaw puzzle #and you have NO CHOICE but to romanticize this relationship—the author WANTS you to #otherwise there will be no point #kuroshitsuji #black butler #ciel phantomhive #sebastian michaelis #kuroshitsuji meta #sebaciel #is this really meta or yapping?

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circeyoru · 3 months ago

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Freedom in The Darkness

[Yandere!Sung Jinwoo x Royalty!Reader - Royal Fight AU]

*Implied Female Reader (it’s just the titles)

Deception. Manipulation. Blood. Pain. Betrayal. Assassination. Death.

Such things were the normality within the walls of the royal family that everyone seemed to admire. A fight for the title of crown prince or princess, to be the next ruler of the empire. It was the biggest succession fight in the world. Why? Because whoever wins this scrabble essentially rules the world.

Only six princes and princesses remained among the 13. There were various deaths: poison, assassination, falling, disease, drowning, heart attack, and malnutrition. Within the six were three princes and three princesses. Because the fight hindered the standard functionality of the empire, the emperor sent the six candidates for the throne to six different domains. Each got to pick their domain according to their birth order.

There were a few reasons why the emperor sent his children to different places. (1) Of course, it was for peace to return to the royal capital since the beginning of the royal succession made the people split into groups. (2) It was for the remaining children to seek allies outside of their comfort zone―namely those in the castle. And (3) it was for said children to try and rule over their chosen domain within 7 years.

You were one of the three princesses and you were sent to the lawless domain. You survived solely because you had a knack for hiding and living like the dead in the palace, so no one paid attention to you until the cease-fire was announced. Of the remaining children, you were the youngest and none of your elder brothers and sisters saw you as a threat. In fact, they bet you would be killed within the week in your new domain.

The lawless domain was where adventures and criminals mingled since even the emperor could barely pay it any mind or attention. It also served as the barrier between the empire and the dark forest, so no one cared for this place. Thus, the infamous nickname ‘Lawless’ is used.

Initially, you’ve given up on living since there was no light in your dark world. All you’ve known was how to survive. Turns out it was the same deal here. To your luck, although the people of that domain were notified of a royal arriving to rule over them, none knew what that royal looked like. So you have forsaken your clothing and identity for money to have someplace to stay.

Throughout your time here, you’ve built bonds and connections, ones you never wanted to drag into your royal fight. One of which was a boy named Sung Jinwoo. He was the older brother of a younger sister, he and his family were adventurers and they have been the ones to help you with your life in this lawless area. There was once when you thought Jinwoo died in an expedition. You, who have unlocked your magic, set out to search for him after his team came back to town with tears. When you found him, he was still breathing, so with your last breath, you teleported him back to his home and collapsed.

When you woke up, you were met with a Jinwoo look-alike exercising in your shared room. The moment the two pairs of eyes met, he gave you that soft smile, “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

“Morning… Jinwoo?”

“That’s me.”

From then on, Jinwoo was obsessed with growing stronger, and he did. Every day, he goes above and beyond to train his physical body and enters the forest like it was a mere training ground. There were times when you could join him, and other times when he preferred to go alone, those times you’d be with his family or other parties you’ve made connection with.

Jinwoo never came back with any scratches or injuries, making you curious as to how strong he has gotten. You confronted him and he showed you what he was capable of. The powers of shadow and an army of undead so long as he stood strong and alive. When you heard that, you gave him quite the lecture on safety and worrying others. He was kneeling on his knees with his hands raised, looking like a kicked puppy. Meanwhile, any passerby would snicker and tease Jinwoo for angering his partner.

You took up the role of being his exclusive healer and was by his side every time he went to some sort of battle. In turn, Jinwoo set aside some soldiers of his to protect you since he’d be focused on the fight and you’d be focused on him. It was a unique partnership, you’ll admit. You’d never tell anyone that it was comforting to know someone would depend on you and you could rely on someone, especially when that someone was Jinwoo.

At some point, you slipped up and your secret as a royal was known to him. It wasn’t a big deal since you didn’t care for your title anymore after living outside the palace for so long. You have long abandoned your royal title and privileges after being sent away to your new ruling domain. You found a new life and you treasured it more than what the stupid palace could offer. This was the freedom you never had; no one treated you like royalty, and no one expected anything of you. It was true bliss.

Until Jinwoo had this idea. “Say, why not take over the throne?”

“What?!” You spit out your drink and started a coughing fit that Jinwoo tried to relieve by patting your back. When you did, you glared at him and questioned, “Why would you suggest that?”

“If you hate this royal succession so much, why not become empress and demolish it?” Jinwoo calmly spoke his mind. “You have my full support and the people of this city.”

You slumped, playing with the cup in your hands. “But, I’m not fit to rule… I didn’t receive any education like my brothers and sister. It’s not like one city; it’s a whole empire! I can’t handle it…”

Jinwoo cupped your hands in his larger ones, making you look up into his grey-coloured eyes. “Hey, I’ll be right by your side. So will the others in my shadow. We’ll all help you.” At your silence and uncertainty, Jinwoo hummed in thought. “How about this? Kill them and raise them from the dead to act as the ruling power?”

You blinked and stared at Jinwoo, bewildered by his new idea.

“That way, you’re not the figurehead to rule. They are. You’ll be behind the scene controlling them. You have me after all.” He let go of you and came over to his side, kneeling down on one knee as he took your hand and kissed your knuckles with a confident smirk. “Just give me the order, your majesty.”

After that conversation, the atmosphere in the city changed and people started acting like they were preparing for war. Whenever you were around, they would give you a nod and go back to their work. You realized they were prepared to act as your army when you fight for the throne. You couldn’t help but smile and cheer them on with your thanks.

You had no idea when it started. The lawless domain that outsiders shunned and despised was just an unpolished diamond in the rough. It only took the right person to come along to change it to one of the more fearsome domains that could give the warrior, knight, and armoury domains a run for their money. Though you probably had a hold over its people because you never waved your royal card in their face like your elder siblings would. They respected you for your ability to survive and care for others no matter the circumstance, though it also had something to do with you being a two-faced cunning fox against your enemies. A story for another time maybe.

You gave it some thought. Jinwoo was right, if you were standing at the highest, nothing could stand in your way of implementing changes. Plus, you wanted to protect this city you grew fond of. Contrary to the rumours, this place was like any other; if not, it would have been more peaceful and human than your home in the palace. You wanted to have the power and authority, but you also wanted your own freedom. It was greedy and selfish of you, you know, still, you wanted no rules and obligations that could separate you from Jinwoo and those you care for.

On the day the time was up, the royal carriages arrived to pick you up. Jinwoo and Igris followed behind you, acting as knights and close aids of yours. Igris’ full armour appearance made the story more believable while Jinwoo appeared to be a mix of a butler and assassin, if that made any sense. Either way, the countdown began.

The closer you were to the palace, the more your heart beat like mad. Jinwoo took your hand and gave you a tight squeeze. You looked away from the window at his soft expression, and you gave him the best smile you could. “I’m nervous…”

“Don’t be. You’re not alone now.” Jinwoo spoke melody to your ears. “Everyone can move at your word.”

You looked down at the shadows. Millions of glowing eyes looked back at you while the shadows wavered, showing you support in their unique way. “Yes, I’m not alone.”

The carriage stopped, and the door opened. Jinwoo got off first and held out a hand for you. You took it and the edge of your dress as you stepped out of the carriage. The scenery of the majestic palace didn’t change a bit, but the memories of all the squabbles for the throne rushed back like a storm. Screams and cries of agony you’d try to shut out to keep your sanity when you hid and witnessed murders and betrayals of all kind around you. All for the seat to be the top. Unconsciously, you squeezed Jinwoo’s hand to ground yourself.

“Oh my, what’s this?” A high-pitched voice rang to your side. You and your companion looked over and saw one of your older sisters. “You’re still alive? I thought you died! And what are you even wearing? No class?”

“Don’t be so mean.” A deep and rough voice sounded above; it was one of your older brothers. “Being sent to that lawless trash area must be hard. You should be applauded for even appearing here, but my hand is tired from all the work I’ve been doing.”

“Dying there would be better than here.” Another brother of yours scoffed as he headed up the steps to the entrance of the palace.

“Right.” Your eldest sister snickered as she purposely bumped into you before walking up the steps.

“Poor thing.” The last of your brother muttered.

You waited until they were all gone, and then unclenched your fist. Your eyes glared at where your siblings were. Whatever sympathy and affection you held for them just because they were your family, all gone. You were hoping they would have changed over the years and join you in thinking this fight was insane, maybe wanting to grow as a family instead.

But no.

Now you have your answer.

“I think the invasion and turnover can happen after dinner.” You coldly stated, all emotion drained from your face.

Jinwoo grinned while Igris bowed his head with his hand over his heart area. Jinwoo led you up the steps by the hand while he chuckled, “I feel like it’ll happen earlier. Want to burn down just the palace or the entire capital?”

“...Only the royal family is at fault…”

“So, if I secure the innocent, then~?”

“Yeah.”

“As you wish, My Empress.”

Note: One of my older works. Decided to post it now cause I'm a bit too busy with IRL stuff. Anyways, I saw the poll for {Shadow and Void} and the next update would be Arc 3 I believe, the parts would be back to back (a bit like the Christmas update). See you guys then!

Hope you liked this one!

𝕮𝖎𝖗𝖈𝖊 𝖄.

My Works: MASTERLIST

*(regarding requests, check the Masterlist to see if it’s opened or not and other info related before sending one. Thanks.)

Taglist: @rozuburedo @ariseverdark @skylar896 @o-qi-shisme

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Solo Leveling #Only I Can Level Up #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling jinwoo #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo #yandere sung Jin woo #yandere sung jinwoo #yandere jinwoo #Yandere sung jinwoo x reader #yandere sung jin woo x reader #Freedom in The Darkness

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lovesim09 · 4 months ago

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White Star

I know the fandom often makes fun of White Star. However, when it comes to power and influence, it is a terrifying opponent. It cannot be forgotten that in the original timeline, White Star first appeared 20 years after the beginning of the war in front of Choi Han. Nothing happened only thanks to regressor. We also saw the diary of the God of Death, a lot of people should have died. In the original timeline Roan kingdom would be destroyed, the Whipper kingdom would lose to the Empire. Jungle would be under the rule of Elisneh. It's likely that many places would be destroyed by dead mana because of the Empire. The dragons we met would be dead. Bud would probably have been killed too, after all, White Star was hunting him. The whales had a war with the mermaids, but it is possible that they later lost. White Star would have the most powerful ancient powers. After all, he was trying to obtain Sky Eating Water and we know how powerful this power is. It's better not to mention the balance of the 5 attributes. Additionally, it has races with a dark attribute on its side. He managed to gain a lot of sacrifice, so his Sky attribute would be more powerful than what we have seen. He has its own kingdom, and Kingdoms that work with him.He also got rid of two dangerous people, Saint and Holy Maiden. There is no one who can use the artifact left by the Sun God. The corrupt Church would realize too late how dangerous the enemy is, it is impossible for them to sacrifice their lives to purify dead mana. It was obvious what their reaction would be after we already seen their reaction when Prince Valentino asked for help. There is also no one who can use fire of destruction, because the person who took this power was an elf, a person with no money and without correct acquired power. The world tree would be destroyed and replaced by a new tree controlled by him. There would also be no weapon capable of completely destroying his soul.

There is something that seems interesting to me. The proposal the God of Death gave to Choi Jung Soo. Nameless 1 already had Choi Han, since a second Single Lifers is needed. That could mean Choi Han lost. It's possible that he didn't die, but something worse happened to him. From being controlled by illusions to becoming a Half Blood-like monster or becoming a demon. It is possible that hunters could have killed him later. CJS preferred to sacrifice his life to his closest family. KRS has become someone whose future cannot be predicted. Thanks to this, KRS has become someone who can change the future of others. KRS read the book with the necessary information. Besides, he had the power, intelligence, experience. It's not that WS was an idiot, this person was terrifying. He managed to guess that Cale was a transmigrator, that the person in this body wasn't the real Cale. Even if the other theories were wrong. We have to remember how unlikely it is that he is someone from another world. After all, he had too much information. While it is laughable to say that Cale works with the Gods, he was actually partly right. Cale was sent to this world by the God of Death, and the God likes him and offered him the position of a saint. Even thank to God he gained the power that allowed him to imprison White Star. White Star lost because Cale had help from God and was loved by nature. And so Cale is someone that nature likes, elementals are part of nature, the world tree has lost branches for him many times, even gave him the oldest root. Dragons liked him because of his power and character. Elves were interested in him many times because of 5 attributes, so different from each other. He did not discriminate against any race, so even the necromancers and dark elves cooperated with him. Of course, Cale is also someone who survived the apocalypse, he managed to become someone strong even in such circumstances. Even White Star who lived for 1000 years couldn't compare to how many difficult and demanding missions Cale completed while he was still in his old body. Because White Star has always had the power, he never had to fear that the monster would eat him, that if he lost, the people he protected would be next. I can say with confidence that Cale has a lot more experience even if he didn't live as long. Compared to White Star, Cale never took the easy path. I would also like to talk about the powers of these two, but that's for another time.

#trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family #ancient powers #tcf #white star #cale barrow #cale henituse

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lennadanvers · 5 months ago

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The Heartbreak Chronicles

Eddie Munson x Reader

Edward The Freak Munson was your first love.

(He preferred to be called Eddie).

(That’s why you called him Edward. It was his father’s name, too).

He was also your first heartbreak. And the worst one yet.

It started in Hawkins. All the bad things in your life had started there. You couldn’t have been more than five years old, and Edward was almost adorable back then. He was fun, had an amazing imagination, and loved playing with you. You loved him, too.

You slew dragons and fought in the name of Queen Buttons- your stuffed hippo- for years, so when his first actual battle came, you expected to be by his side.

He didn’t, apparently. His mom was gone and his father abandoned him. Eddie ended up living with his uncle in a place that held little resemblance to a castle.

Of course, he didn’t tell you any of that. Instead, he described the infinite garden he had in his new home; how it was full of adventures and characters out of a tale. He told you about the dangers he faced- the monsters in the hallway, the darkness wanting to take him, the fae that stole his lunch. He explained that the way to his abode was long and full of traps and risks. He didn’t want you to venture into such a dangerous path.

So you didn’t. With Eddie, imagination and reality were always too close to see the difference. Besides, he was just as energetic as always. He even gained some weight; it was easy to tell.

There were other changes, though. Ones that happened slowly. Seamlessly. His favorite color went from red to black. He said once it reminded him of his mom, and proceeded to ask what colors you liked best in the same breath. His childlike interest for shiny things evolved into a collection of chains. They started appearing clasped onto every pair of jeans he owned. His laugh was louder every time you said something even remotely funny.

And his eyes were weaker and weaker.

They used to have a wild spark. Two dark bonfires, the promise of well-intentioned mischief. But his laugh was a gush of wind, and every time he opened his mouth it was like blowing at the agonizing embers.

It was a dark spell, a silent curse that poisoned him- or so you thought. He bailed on you one time, and you forgave him instantly. Who woulnd’t? He said he was sorry. And did it again a couple weeks later. Nothing to worry about. He hadn’t bailed in literal years; you could cut him some slack. Until there weren’t any more sleepovers or playdates, no more walks to find treasures by the forest or cheap ice cream listening to his stories.

Then came the summer break, and Edward disappeared. Not really, of course. You saw him once with his uncle at the grocery store. Once. He was alive and healthy, as far as you could tell. Then where had he been? Why hadn’t he been with you, as usual? You didn’t even remember summers without him.

The last day of vacation, you found a silly little dragon ring. It was most definitely made out of plastic, but it was gold and has two fake diamonds as eyes. With a little bit of imagination, it could pass as a dragon rider’s ring. It was meant for Edward, of course. Who, if not him, would wear it with pride?

But he never wore it. Not even to try it on when you gave it to him.

It was the first day of school, and, after years of friendship, the first day you sat alone in class. Which was stupid because he also sat alone. His hair was gone, and his eyes looked even bigger. It just made it worse when he smiled and nodded as a thank you, because there was no light in them. The fire had gone out, at last.

You had tried, alright. Over and over. But if the princess didn’t let his hair fall, then there was no way for you to climb the tower and save him.

You made friends with other people, life went by. It never stopped for things like this.

That was the first time Edward Munson broke your heart. At least, that time he had the decency to do it slowly, carefully. A death by natural causes. He didn’t have the same consideration the next time.

A/N: new series!! A little old, actually, but new for you guys! Hopefully it's at least entertaining. Chapters will be short but bitter, just the way I like my writing ;)) If you want me to, I can make a taglist (I have one for Pure Imagination, but I don't know if anyone will be interested in being tagged for this one), just comment or send an ask and I'll add you. Have a nice week! ♥️

#fanfiction #lennadanvers #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #the heartbreak chronicles #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #childhood best friends to lovers #childhood best friends #friends to enemies #eddie #eddie's pov #reader pov

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hey-itsdollie · 11 days ago

Note

Hi, I love your blog!

Could I please request head-canons for Kaiser, Rin, Sae, Nagi, Bachria, (and whoever else if you feel like, if it’s not too much) of how they’d feel about having a goth gf? 💀 🖤 ⚽️

I ♡ Goth Girls

yesss I've never seen something like this I hope I do it well!

‧₊˚ ┊ Blue Lock boys with a goth gf!

୭˚. ᵎᵎ featuring » kaiser. rin. sae. nagi. bachira.

⋮ ⌗ ┆cw ⪼ fluff, female reader, semi-crack fic, use of pet names, goth reader!

── .✦ Michael Kaiser

Kaiser would be estatic about having a goth girlfriend. Considering he's more eccentric and enjoys eccentric things. He'd enjoy showing you off, always having you send fit checks to him, and even letting you decorate his things like his car, room, and even phone aesthetic.

He adores your aesthetic, giving anyone death glares who choose to look at you the wrong way.

Even a small glance Kaiser is already memorizing the person's face, body structure, and clothes. You don't normally care much but whatever you're laid back about he is more high strung for.

"Michael enough, I know that look."

You would stare at him unamused as he sends death glares at a small child who was just mindlessly staring up at you. Sighing relieved once the kid walked away with their parents.

Back to decorating his room, it was simple Kaiser wasn't one to decorate much considering he often travelled due to matches. So whenever you were over you'd leave something in his room. He had many plushies ranging from gloomy bears, gothic looking bunnies, and even light pastel cats.

Polaroids of the two of you hung from his walls, considering you preferred to take material photos than just keep them tucked away in your phone.

During his birthday you never knew what to get him, you also knew very well he didn't like recieving gifts so you decided to make him things instead of buy him knick-knacks.

Adding to his new decor, crocheted blankets and small plushies were now on his bed.

Kaiser became some what of a softy after getting with you. Sure he threw his tantrums from time to time and had an attitude. But you noticed a change in him, you calmed him down even though he wouldn't verbally admit it.

"Don't move." You ordered one hand gripping his chin as the other applied his eyeliner almost perfectly onto his skin. This had become part of your routine whenever you stayed over at his place, which was often.

"Liebling, how does it look?"

"It'd be better if you didn't move so much."

"I can't help it, I love having my eyes on you~"

Kaiser gave you the attention you never thought you'd want. And sure enough, he grew on you quite quickly.

── .✦ Rin Itoshi

Rin didn't think much about having a goth girlfriend, to be fair he never thought much about relationships in general. He's lowkey the type of guy who doesn't care about how people look or dress. Will he give weird stares? Hell yeah. But it's not like he's going to fully hate someone for it.

When he got into a relationship with you everything was chill. Sure you didn't watch much football, you only knew of the blue lock program due to theory videos on the internet.

So during one of his breaks, you ran into him at an arcade the guys had dragged him to. He was hella nervous. You wore large platform boots, a ton of makeup, and had piercings. Rin wasn't really expecting someone like you to come up to him, the aesthetics clashed- plus he had no idea who you were.

"You're part of blue lock right?"

Rin thought it was a hassle but decided to answer your questions. He just wasn't expecting for you to ask him about brain washing and if there were tunnels under blue lock.

To put it simply he thought you were crazy.

Few months into the relationship and he still thinks you're crazy. Doesn't mean he doesn't love you.

"Please Rin let me do your eyeliner! Just this once!"

You often begged him to try out some things you enjoyed doing. He always said no after you asked to give him piercings. That one hurt you bad when he said no.

"Fine, if it'll make you stop whining."

You squealed and began doing some rubbed out eyeliner on his waterline, grinning from ear to ear as your smiley piercing was on display.

"He loved seeing your smile, the tension in his body melting away as he patiently let you do his make up.

You and Rin were the definition of loser bf and goth gf; while you collected small random figures of skeletons wearing animal costumes he was collecting action figures and football cards.

Just like with Kaiser Rin was heavily over protective with you. Whenever Otoya or Shidou commented on him having a "goth baddie" for a girlfriend he was always 0.2 seconds away from knocking their lights out.

He would do it even if they didn't say anything, knowing you always cheered him on no matter what.

── .✦ Sae Itoshi

Sae had known you for a while, way before you chose your aesthetic and way before he left for spain. Childhood friends you would say whenever someone asked how you knew the red headed football player.

To say he was shocked that you were goth would be an understatement but it didn't necessarily bother him. He found it quite unique, he loved it.

He enjoyed going on shopping sprees with you, not minding that he had to quite close to thrity minutes to an hour for you to get ready. You were laid back and he was aswell, you never rushed to be anywhere.

"You're beautiful Blossom."

Sae would say smoothly watching you get ready using your light up mirror that had bats carved into the wood. You would be painting on your eyebrows, one halfway done as you turned and blew him a kiss.

The press was quite shocked to hear Sae had a unique girlfriend, but he loved showing you off. Your sense of fashion always blew the press away.

Even on dates you often took him to thrift stores, he was used to the idea that he'd need to spend a fortune on his significant other, but instead you made your own clothes and jewerly, and preferred to thrift.

The most he normally spent was on concert tickets. Which he didn't mind considering he got to watch you get all dolled up.

Sae got used to your antics quite quickly. For example, he normally expected to be sent a playlist at 3am from you. The message saying "This playlists reminds me of us" or just a playlist full of song recommendations.

He loved how passionate you were about things even small things that most wouldn't glance at. It made him want to become passionate over football again, it was just the effect you had on him.

And even though you didn't force it on him you tried subtly to bring him and his young brother together again. You spoke to Rin often as he went to you for most things whether it was him asking about Sae or just being agitated about anything and everything.

Of course Sae was aware of this, even hesitantly asking to see any pictures Rin would send you or ask about his brother.

It started with Sae sending check up messages to Rin—he would either get left on delivered or left on seen—but now he has short conversations with Rin.

It's slow but it's something. And he had you to thank for that.

── .✦ Seishiro Nagi

Nagi would not care about how his significant other would look or dress. He'd be quite indifferent about it, considering he probably looks for whoever wouldn't be a hassle.

Reo on the other hand was probably shocked to see his white-haired friend with you. Questioning how exactly Nagi got a girl like you considering how lazy and laid back he was. Was it the height? The looks? Dare he say personality??

You had met Nagi at a costume store, looking for new decorations for your apartment as Nagi was dragged to go shopping with Reo—who was in a completely different store—he just wanted to come in for air conditioning...

He ended up walking out with a scheduled date.

You found Nagi immensely attractive, though others might say otherwise. He seemed like he didn't care about his looks. His hair was messy as if he just got out of bed, his clothes kind of thrown on yet still looked relatively presentable. Not to mention his height and lazy sleepy eyes.

He was just your type.

On the other hand, Nagi wasn't expecting some goth chick who barely met his height with her platform shoes on to walk up to him. If he didn't know any better, he'd think you worked at the shop.

In his eyes he thought you looked like a video game character. Specifically, from a horror game.

Being the blunt man he was he voiced his thoughts. To anyone's surprise you took it as a compliment and asked him out.

The two of you often lazed around together and played video games. Mid way through walks you would remember tiktok trends and decide to do them.

"Nagi just stand there." You would direct before walking up to him and stepping on his dirty converse before kissing him with your hands cupping his face.

Nagi also seemed to enjoy staying at your place more than his own saying "It's cozier" whilst having his head buried into your cleavage. With your black out shades and dark lighting in your bedroom, it was the perfect nap atmosphere.

── .✦ Meguru Bachira

To say Bachira loved having you as his girlfriend would be an understatement.

Showing up to your date with a white shirt saying "I ♡ My Goth Gf" was not that shockingly for you. He seemed to brag to everybody about you, proving to others that he was far scarier than you when they made nasty comments.

Effectively threatening to unleash his monster on them.

You two were like Beast boy and Raven, even dressing up like them for Halloween per Bachira's begging.

Your profiles on anything always matched with icons of Beast boy and Raven. He loved it. To him you were as pretty- if not more beautiful than Raven.

He was sure to take millions of pictures of you in your costume. Saving them and making one his phone's wallpaper.

Bachira was adorable to you, both of you being outcasts in certain situations made your bond tighter. He was the more energetic one in the relationship but it never clashed with any activities or dates.

He often didn't dress up either wearing pajamas or shorts with random graphic tees while you always went out with your outfits and if you decided to wear pajamas your make up made up for your laziness.

Often times your boyfriend would plead with you to do his make up like you would your own. And in the end, he would always act like he was at some hard-core concert.

His goofiness never failed to make you smile. Not to mention his mother loved you. She loved your creative aesthetic, using you as a model for some paintings.

Before going to see you Bachira always bragged about you to his mom saying "Oh isn't Birdie perfect mom!" in response the older woman would just laugh and agree. Happy her beloved son found someone who loves him as much as he loves them.

Bachira was open with his feelings almost immediately, he ran up to you after one of his matches and asked you out. Out of luck you agreed, which led to now.

Your boyfriend laying in your bed practically buried under all your plushies and blankets, refusing each time to put the plushies on the ground saying "Those are our kids! I can't kick them off the bed!"

Soft snores left him as his chest raised up and down comfortably. You smiled taking a picture before crawling into bed with him.

Sorry if anyone is a bit ooc, I enjoyed writing this :P

©hey-itsdollie please don't copy, change, or steal my work. Thank you!

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metalomagnetic · 14 days ago

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I've been thinking about the dynamic between Severus and Voldemort for a few days now. Severus is definitely a necessary asset to Voldemort, along with the common themes in their past. (a pure-blood witch who goes against her family to be with her muggle husband. daddy issues. Being poor and to be left aside. a half-blood student in Slytherin etc.) He teaches only him to fly, and agrees to spare Lily for him. Considering that the Death Eaters, other than Lucius, are not very tolerant of Severus, Severus' rise to the inner circle is quite a story. In DH, we see someone who can discuss strategy with Voldemort, make suggestions. Almost an advisor. A fondness for the dark arts. Sending Severus as a spy for a wizard like Dumbledore shows that he trusts his skills, even if not his. It's too risky to do just a "test run". How do you read their relationship? What do you think about shipping these two characters?

There are connections between Voldemort-Snape-Harry (half-bloods raised by muggles who mistreated them, finding a home at Hogwarts). I am sure you found the theory where Dumbledore is the Master of Death, and Voldemort, Snape, and Harry are the three brothers from the Deathly Hollows (wand brother being Voldemort, cruel and obsessed with power; stone brother being Snape, unable to let go of his dead loved one (Lily) and ultimately dying for her; Harry being the cloak brother, wisely just wanting peace and meeting death like an old friend when his time comes).

However, having some things in common doesn't make people alike. Voldemort was sent to Slytherin as a muggleborn, not half-blood, since he had no idea he was a half-blood. Voldemort had no parents (unlike Snape. we know Snape's dad was an abusive dick, but one can imagine at least his mother gave him some level of affection, love, and at least taught him about magic, Hogwarts, in advance). Voldemort got to Hogwarts with zero prior knowledge of anything, and all he learned of magic, he stumbled about it on his own. Voldemort has no ties to the wizarding word, no family to speak of.

Snape was not in the inner circle in the first war. He was far too young for that; I think Snape entered Voldemort's radar when Snape brought him the prophecy- that was the thing that elevated him in his eyes, and possible made Voldemort grant him a 'boon' -sparing Lily. Only he did not spare Lily. If he wanted to spare her, if he gave a single fuck, he would have just stunned her instead of asking her to step aside, and when she refused, he was like ok, death it is, as if he couldn't have easily kept his promise to Snape.

Voldemort did not send Snape to spy for him. When he died, Dumbledore was the one to take Snape to Hogwarts, under his wing.

When Voldemort returned in first year, he found Snape working for Dumbledore at Hogwarts and obviously did not trust him, since he never asked for Snape's help with the stone. Same thing happened in book 4, where neither Voldemort nor Barty Jr trusted Snape with their plan to lure Harry away from Hogwarts.

Once Voldemort gained a body and questioned Snape on his loyalties, and Snape lied enough to convince him, then Voldemort made use of an already built in spy, so to speak.

Voldemort did not trust Snape in book 5 to tell him about his plan in luring Harry into the Ministry, either- he only trusted Bella, Lucius and the Lestrange brothers with that mission.

Voldemort did not trust Snape enough to tell him he is sending Death Eaters to Hogwarts in book 6. He preferred using Draco for that, and when Draco managed to find a way to sneak the Death Eaters in, Voldemort sent his squad without even alerting Snape on the matter.

Voldemort finally started trusting Snape only once Snape 'proved' himself by killing Dumbledore. That is the moment when Snape is welcomed into the inner circle, not before. And, of course, it makes sense: Dumbledore is not only Voldemort's greatest enemy, but he was also a wizard of great caliber- the fact that Snape managed to kill him raised Snape very high in Voldemort's eyes, because even he couldn't kill Albus. (ofc, V doesn't know Albus wanted Snape to kill him. In fact, that's why Albus wanted Snape to kill him, so Snape could finally gain Voldemort's trust).

So after that, Voldemort puts trust in Snape, but never as much as he once had for Lucius and Bella, who were handed Horcruxes to keep and protect.

Furthermore, it's clear Severus does not want the Carrows at Hogwarts, that he did not pick them to be there, yet they were forced on Snape, anyway, which does imply Voldemort still wanted to have other Death Eater eyes at Hogwarts, not just Snape alone.

We don't know if Voldemort only ever taught Snape how to fly, either.

Voldemort, contrary to fandom opinions, sometimes listens to advice from his Death Eaters, not just Snape'. Rookwood advised him about the prophecy and how to handle it, and Bella advised him to use Sirius and Kreacher to lure Harry to the Ministry.

Snape is like everyone else surrounding Voldemort- pawns in his game. He kills his followers/sends them to their deaths without a second worth of hesitation. Even when he believes Snape is so useful, and he thinks Snape has done SO much for him, he still kills Snape (in his eyes his Hyper Loyal Death Eater) to gain ownership of the wand. Not only that, but he kills him cruelly, with the snake, doesn't even bother to award him a clean death by AK.

The only Death Eater Voldemort seems to treasure (to the extent he is capable) is Bellatrix, going by the fact that he saves her from the Ministry Battle, allows himself be seen by Aurors just to grab her on his way out, and the fact that he seems Big Mad when she dies.

As from Snape's POV, I think, initially, as a young boy, he worshiped V. He wanted to join so badly, all his mates wanted to join, and he was so eager to bring Voldemort the prophecy when he heard it. I am sure he adored Voldemort (like most Death Eaters probably did). Of course, once Voldemort killed Lily as a direct result of Snape's actions, it was game over. All that adoration turned to hate, and Snape can hold a grudge like no other. Not only that, but after V died, Snape matured, grew up, and found a way better mentor in Dumbledore.

All that above is canon analysis. Now, we move on to better, more enjoyable and fun things:

For fandom purpose, and for our fics, I think, with the usual tweaking necessary for Voldemort when needing to pair him off with anyone ( because, let's be honest, a totally in character Voldemort from the books cannot be shipped with anyone outside of Bellatrix, and even that is a bit of a stretch), Snape/V make for a great pair! You can give Voldemort a tiny bit of humanity that he lacks in the books, and if he has that humanity, then Snape would be a prime candidate to receive attention, or even affection, from V.

You can go for a somewhat 'healthy' relationship, either an AU, or a canon divergence after the first war, where V and Severus can have something close to nice. Keeping Voldemort's canon personality (but giving him some humanity that he severely lacks as a two dimensional villain), it actually goes well with Severus'. They're both intellectuals, they both like inventing magic/spells/potions, they're both sarcastic and grumpy and they both hate kids 😂.

You can also go for a less than healthy dynamic, taking into account the huge power imbalance any possible partner (outside of Dumbledore) would have with Voldemort. We can have a manipulative V using Snape, not just in the canonical way he used his Death Eaters, but in this case sexually. We can make Snape's canonical desire to join V as a young man, and add some romantic/sexual desire aspect to it.

Or, of course, Voldemort/Snape can easily veer into 'dead dove' territory, which can also be very interesting to explore, depending on one's taste.

I like any ship as long as there's some effort put into characterisation. Certainly, V/Severus have a lot of potential! For me, personally, it would depend how Snape is written- I am VERY particular about how Snape is depicted in fics.

Sirius, Albus and Snape are all favourites of mine from the books. They are complex characters, and I need them to remain complex in order to enjoy them in a romance (or even gen fic).

As I always say, any ships can work, and I am not opposed to any pairing on principle. I've read, wrote and enjoyed far more outlandish ships than Voldemort/Snape, really.

#severus snape #lord voldemort #severus/voldemort do they have a ship name?#Death Prince? 😂

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libraryraccoon · 1 year ago

Note

I was wondering how a Dazai!Reader from BSD (preferably 15 year old Dazai) would interact with the HH crew

Btw, I love your stuff sm, have a lovely day if you see this!

Gender : GN

Pronouns : None

Info : I haven't watched BSD for a long time, so it's probably wrong/inaccurate, sorry. Reader have 15 years old.

Message fom Raccoon : What ? Dad!Lucifer ? Dad!Alastor ? Okay, take that Dad!Husk !

TW : Suicide (mentionned); SH (mentionned)

General Headcanon

Finally.

After all this years of trying, after all this attempts, you were finally dead !

And what do we do when we have achieved such a feat ? We drink until the morning !

As you drank, you recounted your feat of finally dying to the bartender, some sort of cat-bird demon.

He gave you a judgmental look when you told him you were 15 and died of suicide.

But you were used to it, people often judge you while you were alive and was trying every second to die.

After a few hours, you were drunk and followed the bartender back to his place, a small apartment in a quiet corner of Hell.

You shouldn't follow someone to their home, you know that, but for your defense, you were drunk and he was a cat. And you have a weakness for cats.

Two things making it impossible to refuse his invitation.

And, if anything ever went wrong, you always had your gun with you, which had appeared at the same time as you in Hell.

The bartender's name was Husk and he kind of adopted you ? You weren't even sure if one sinner could adopt another sinner.

Life was calm with Husk, and you somehow helped him with his work.

By that I mean you were stopping the powers of other demons with your power, so you used it to kick out all the assholes who attacked him from the bar.

You and Husk had this dynamic of "Father who will kill for his child & Child who will sacrifice themselves for their father."

And then, one day you had to move to the Hazbin Hotel because Husk find a work there.

Alastor was surprised to see that Husk now had a kid–he didn't think it was possible for an alcoholic like him to have a child.

And he learned that Husk had cut down on his drinking, so he could be a better father.

*very kindly and not at all suspiciously notes this fact in the back of his mind.*

The hotel was quite shocked to know that you were a child from a fucking mafia and that you had died of suicide at 15 years old. If Husk hadn't informed them about that, they never would have suspected it.

Your humor worries them more than anything else.

Charlie is worry every time you make jokes about suicide while your dad rolls his eyes at it.

Husk was used to your jokes after a few months of living together.

The hotel wasn't.

Charlie is like your older sister, optimistic and a little naive at times.

She always tries to make you see the bright side of things and to make you forget this idea of double death.

Spoiler : it doesn't work.

Lucifer sees you like one of his children.

He spoils you like he spoiled Charlie when she was just a child.

Husk often makes side eyes at him, accusing him of trying to steal his child.

And that was true.

Lucifer, Charlie, Husk and Angel Dust are the ones who are the most concerned about your mental health.

Alastor wanted to make you sign a contract "I become powerful and Alastor releases my father from his contract in exchange of stopping trying to kill myself."

You didn't sign it.

Alastor tried to use you to spy on Vox and the Vees because he was bored and wanted some entertainment.

It worked.

Alastor do radio shows with you sometimes, you two are called "The RadioDuo".

His audience LOVES you.

You gained Alastor some listeners btw.

You help Niffty with her work at the Hotel.

Even if Charlie said you didn't have to do it, you do it anyway.

Vaggie take all your guns because you apparently “didn’t need” them.

You managed to recover them with a little manipulation.

Angel Dust could see himself in you.

You reminded him of his little human self, Anthony, broken by the world and wanting to end it. A family running the Mafia and forcing him to join it.

You're a bit like him, but compared to him, who fought to survive, had a reason to survive, you had nothing, no reason to fight, and you gave up.

When Angel Dust isn't working, he usually stays with you and Husk.

He doesn't want to abandon you, leave you alone in such a rotten world. He wants you to be protected and to be the child you never could be.

He will never let anyone touch you, never.

Husk and Angel Dust are usually the ones who bandage you after SH, Angel Dust doesn't say anything as he does it, because he understands. Husk doesn't speak as well, but you can see that by doing so he's blaming himself, making you instantly regret it.

Don't try to kill yourself in front of them, please. They're already worried enough, don't add more.

Hotel Hazbin was, in a way, your family.

And you would kill everyone in this room before killing yourself before anything happened to them.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel x gn reader #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #angel dust #alastor #niffty #vaggie #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #Dazai!reader #I tried #I didn't had enough space for Sir Pentious :(#I saw some ppl saying angel dust was in a mafia #so here we are #dad!husk #dad husk #Raccoon is writing

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hazamacore · 5 months ago

Text

Eva's crow motif & Wolfgang's sheep motif - the relevance of animals in Project: Eden's Garden going forwards

As a disclaimer, Wolfgang of course has two animal motifs - the sheep and the wolf. In this specific post I will only cover the former as I believe it is most relevant in relation to Eva and this first chapter in general. I personally think that his wolf motif will become more apparent as the story progresses and Wolfgang continues to haunt the narrative. As for Eva - many of the things attributed to crows also apply to ravens and some have absolutely pointed out the associations ravens specifically have (Aesop's fables, the Tower of London myth, Edgar Allen Poe) that relate to Eva. I will not be touching on that in this post and am instead focusing on the different species of crow.

With that out of the way - major spoilers for chapter one of Project: Eden's Garden ahead!

& This is a text only version of my tiktok post, if you are more visual and would prefer to read it there!

WOLFGANG & THE SHEEP

The most blatant is that sheep hold great Biblical significance not least because Jesus Christ himself is referred to as the "Lamb of God" and the term "sacrificial lamb" derives from exactly that in Christ's sacrifice to atone the sins of humanity. Wolfgang as a Christ-like figure being killed by Eva named after the first to sin paints the perfect picture for the commencement of the killing game.

Wolfgang is treated by the majority of the cast, barring Eva, Damon and arguably Ulysses and Wenona, as a "saviour". The most explicit example of this thinking is asserted by Desmond after Eva's trial as he refers to Wolfgang as "one of the only people who could've handled this situation" who could have "made progress on escaping". He acts as this guiding light towards salvation for them as sheep are social, flock animals, and shepherds symbols of guidance. Until he is killed and the ideas of atonement and salvation die with him, even as Diana attempts to "resurrect" his image.

"And he gave unto them commandments, that they should worship the Lord their God, and should offer the firstlings of their flocks, for an offering unto the Lord. And Adam was obedient unto the commandments of the Lord." (Bible, Moses 5:7, Adam and Eve sacrifice a lamb to God)

If we take Tozu's role in the academy and killing game to be equivalent to that of God, then his animal motif being a ram/goat neatly links to Wolfgang's sheep and Christ symbolism. Tozu is the father, Wolfgang is the son, and Eva (as the bird) is the Holy Spirit and all three are bound together as one in this murder case that implicates them all. Not to mention how Eva literally sacrifices Wolfgang, the lamb, to Tozu, the God.

Shakespeare is an interesting perspective to take into account considering Tozu's theatrical nature and the consistent references to theatre within P:EG (EG: Tozu referencing Horace in the prologue). In Shakespeare's plays, sheep are often symbolic of vulnerability and used as a means of "peripeteia" - the turning point where the narrative's tone darkens. Wolfgang's murder, the first murder, abides by this perfectly. His death symbolises the death of any semblance of order and justice within this situation and opens the way for the killing game to truly begin.

"We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk i' the sun, And bleat the one at the other: what we changed Was innocence for innocence." (William Shakespeare, The Winter's Tale, 1.2.85-7)

While lambs are symbolic of sacrifice in many cultures, they are not entirely passive and become aggressive when cornered, usually by gearing up to ram or buck. This reflects how aggressive Wolfgang becomes when drugged and essentially herded in a corner by Eva, leading him to lash out at Diana. Wolfgang is the only character whose animal motif is an animal classed as livestock which is another way upon his sacrificial lamb symbolism that he was destined to die - he has been slaughtered and his metaphorical fleece has been repurposed for Diana to wear instead.

EVA & THE CROW

Firstly, crows tend to be seen either solitary or paired in nature. While they can be social animals, this is not the trend. Instantly this relates to how Eva has endured isolation and exclusion throughout her life, including in the academy. Damon is the first person she forms any sort of bond with and from the moment they wake up in the same area they are cemented as a "pair". P:EG overall has "pairs" as an extremely prominent theme due to the entire concept of Eden.

Her isolation can connect also to how crows have been observed to hold grudges. Eva's history as a victim of bullying instilled in her a victim complex and "me vs them" mentality where she takes any sort of negative reaction as "proof" that people are out to get her - something her Ultimate peers triggered with their mocking of her actual talent and confusion over her lies alike. Her targeting of Wolfgang was based in a grudge born from him singling her out as untrustworthy and how she believed he was turning everyone against her with his influence. Crows are opportunistic creatures - Eva saw the opportunity to get rid of Wolfgang and frame Diana in one fell swoop and took it. Much of her plan relied on that opportunity.

General populations deem crows largely as pests and they are, as a result, vulnerable to hunting by humans which ties into not only how Eva was and believed she was viewed by her peers, but also in how she was being "hunted" by Tozu every moment she did not kill after claiming the perk. That traitor's perk giving Eva access to the cameras essentially provided her with a "bird's eye view" of the happenings around the academy - something made further apparent by how she was watching from right above the murder as it happened.

Crows are known widely as thieves much like magpies both in the sense of them stealing prey from predators and the reputation they have gained in many human cultures for stealing precious items for their nests. It does not feel unintentional, then, that her plan saw her steal from her peers' rooms ("nests") to kill her prey. Additionally, crows have been reported to cause power outages through contact with power lines/poles which directly parallels the blackout during Eva's murdering of Wolfgang.

Most glaringly is how crows hold the familiar associations with evil and the Devil in Gael culture; in the 18th century, shepherds in the Scottish highlands would make offerings to hooded crows ("hoodies") to deter them from attacking sheep.

"In Pennant's Tour in Scotland (1771) there is described a curious ceremony in which offerings were made by Scottish herdsmen to the hooded crow, eagle and other enemies of sheep to induce them to spare the flock. (...) The crow killed lambs and annoyed sickly sheep." - Ernest Ingersoll, 1923, Birds in legend, fable and folklore, p.165

This blatantly links to Eva's murder victim being Wolfgang, whose animal motif is literally a sheep to her crow. The only "offering" made to Eva was Diana's extension of friendship, but at that point the crow had already taken flight. The hooded crows indigenous to the highlands would migrate down to the more temperate southern England during winter where they gained the local name "Royston crows" due to how they feasted on the carcasses of sheep in the sheep fields of Royston, Herfordshire.

In Shintoism, crows are associated with the idea of rebirth after tragedy strikes due to the image of them feasting on the slain after great battles. Much like Wolfgang's "Lamb of God" symbolism, this will likely come to fruition in Eva's presence never truly dying, that she will be remembered after death, and that Diana will "resurrect" her image just as she is attempting to do with Wolfgang.

So: HOW MUCH SHOULD WE CONSIDER THE ANIMAL MOTIFS GOING FORWARDS?

The plain and simple answer is that it depends and must be applied on a case by case basis. Our analysis cannot start and end with the animal motifs nor can it hinge on them as they are one angle of analysis among many - most prominently Biblical allusions and characterisation and, above all, how all of these aspects link to each other. For instance, you cannot just say "this character will kill because their animal motif is a predator" because there are far more layers to it than that.

The animal motifs are important and should not be disregarded as Diana, Eva and Wolfgang have proven - they just cannot be the sole point of analysis at a stage where we have everyone's characterisation to consider in conjunction with them.

For example, while Wolfgang's sheep motif is absolutely relevant and noteworthy, I don't personally think there is as much to say about it as Eva's crow motif based on what we have so far. How it acts as a springboard for Wolfgang's Biblical allusions especially RE his Christ symbolism is the most notable element of it so far in my opinion. And this could very well be because he has two animal motifs for us to sink our teeth into - I just have not found enough with him and the wolf to warrant a full discussion yet.

My thoughts on his wolf motif becoming more relevant later on in the story relates in part to his name, Wolfgang, meaning "travelling wolf" and being taken from an actual German saint in Christianity - which connects deftly to how Wolfgang is already being treated postmortem. In his book "Teutonic Mythology", Jacob Grimm defines the name as one held by a victorious hero. Overall, I think the wolf beneath sheep's clothing is yet to be truly revealed.

On the whole, Wolfgang and Eva prove without a doubt how important and relevant everyone's animal motifs will be beyond mere aesthetics - as does Diana's speech at the end of the chapter! What must be taken into account when looking into what everyone's motifs could mean is their individual characterisations and other elements of their characters. The animal motifs are only one piece of the puzzle, but they are a necessary piece in my opinion.

Thank you for reading please feel free to add more thoughts! I have no doubt I missed stuff, especially in regards to Wolfgang's sheep motif. There is absolutely something to say about him and being an undesirable “black sheep” in relation to his background but those thoughts aren’t fleshed out enough at the moment.

#smiles oh so normally #★: p:eg #project eden's garden #wolfgang akire #eva tsunaka

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old-women-can-peg-me · 14 days ago

Text

You’ve Lost Your Voice, You’ve Lost Your Will, You Lose Your Mind, Admit It’s Kind Of Thrilling

Agatha Harkness X Reader

Tags: strap ons, blow jobs, daddy kink, detective Agnes, lil bit rough

Summary:

Detective Agnes O’Connor can’t seem to take her mind off Amory so she does the only thing she can think of to make it better.

A/N:

I’m back bby.

As always, not beta read, deal with the dyslexia.

Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65908771

———

Detective O’Connor was pacing back and forth around her living room, she was hot and bothered and awfully turned on. She would have normally taken care of the issue herself but one person had been plaguing her dreams and fantasies. She knew she had to do something about this feeling, this want, no, this need. She had to have them, claim them, punish them for making her feel weak and so fucking horny from the smallest of touches. Her mind was made up and she grabbed her keys, determined to do something, she wasn’t sure what yet, but she knew it was going to be successful.

You sat idly at your desk, you hated the night shift, more so, you hated the Chief for putting you on the night shift after explicitly explaining why you didn’t want night shifts. You could just tell tonight was going to be mundane and boring, you honestly didn’t even know why you had a night shift in such a small town but nevertheless you worked with a skeleton crew of three other people and yourself. You stood from your desk, intent to fill up on as much caffeine as possible. On your way to the coffee machine, you passed Detective O’Connor’s empty office. Agnes O’Connor had been filling your mind for some time now, she was cutthroat and smart, the two things you loved the most in women. It certainly didn’t help that she had a preference for flannel shirts rolled up to her elbows.

“Have a good evening Amory,” Chief said, sliding past you and pulling you from your thoughts.

“Eat my ass Chief,” you retorted, slamming your empty mug to the bench.

You gave him your best death glare, he should know you were shitty about being put on the night shift, and if he wasn’t already aware, he certainly was now.

“You know, O’Connor said the same thing to me the other day,” he said, not even acknowledging your glare, “maybe you two can bond over your strong dislike of me,” he chuckled making his way to the door.

Your jaw tensed at his words, who the fuck was he to tell you who to get along with. Truth be told, you would love to bond with Agnes over anything but since Chief told you to, you suddenly wanted nothing to do with her. You poured the dark coffee into your cup, filling the mug as much as you could. You took a sip of the bitter liquid and sighed, the warmth running down your throat.

You slowly made your way back to your desk, groaning as you sat down and wrapped your jacket around yourself, it would seem that the department didn’t care if the night shift workers were warm or not. You typed away at your computer, catching up on some files that had to be updated when the door to the precinct swung open.

You raised your eyes to try and see who it was but the view was obstructed by the woman sitting at the reception desk. Then you heard it, her voice. The gruff sound of a ‘thank you’ echoing slightly with the high ceilings.

“Amory Holdover,” Agnes greeted, leaning down and resting her hands on your desk.

“D-detective O’Connor,” you replied, “Chief was just saying we should bond over our hatred of him,”

Agnes snorted and picked up your mug of coffee, bringing it to her lips she took a sip and smiled at the bitter taste. You glanced behind her to see a timid looking rookie and you drummed your fingers against the desk. You raised your eyebrow at Agnes and she had an infuriatingly infectious smirk on her lips.

“This is Dina, she’s covering your shift,” Agnes winked, grabbing your arm and pulling you up, “and you’re coming with me,”

Your eyes were wide as you silently followed the detective. You had no idea what she was intending but you followed her out of the building and to her car.

“Did you drive here?” Agnes asked.

You shook your head and she grunted in response, opening the door to the passenger side door for you. You gave her a smile and got in, watching as she moved to her side.

“Are you kidnapping me?” You asked, a nervous laugh following.

Agnes just chuckled, the sound low and intoxicating, drawing you in, drawing you to her. You kept your eyes on the road as Agnes drove you somewhere unknown. You nervously played with your lips, biting and chewing the plump flesh. Agnes’ eyes would flash over to you constantly but you were too busy trying not to overthink this whole situation.

“Why do you look so worried, little bug?” Agnes asked, her hand reaching over and resting on your thigh.

You tensed slightly at the contact and you felt your stomach do a flip. The woman that you had been crushing on for the past few months had her hand on your thigh and was driving you god knows where after taking you from your night shift.

“I-uh, I’d like to know where we’re going, detective,” you said, your other leg bouncing nervously.

“My place,” was all Agnes said, her grip tightening slightly on your thigh.

You nodded your head and kept looking out onto the road.

“You okay with that?” Agnes asked, looking over at you, concern in her eyes.

“Yes, yeah, totally, one hundred percent, so okay…” you said, not really focusing on what she had implied.

Agnes just chuckled at your obvious nervousness.

“If it wasn’t clear it’s because I want to fuck you,” she said and you choked on your own breathing, “I’d have done it at the station but I don’t want people hearing when I ruin you,”

You whimpered at her words and Agnes chuckled. She took her hand off your thigh to pull the car into park. She stepped out of the car and you could hardly think straight as she opened your door and presented her hand to help you out. You took her hand and she helped you to stand before she pulled you closer to her, her lips ghosting over yours.

“We don’t have to,” Agnes said, “we can go inside and get a pizza and do nothing,”

“No,” you said, your lips still so close to hers, “I-I want this, I want you,”

Agnes smiled wide before she pressed her lips against yours. They were chapped, rough against your own as they moved and slotted against yours perfectly. You moaned against her, your hands finding her face and holding her as close as possible.

“We should take this inside,” Agnes said, pulling away from you slightly.

“Only if I can take you up on that pizza afterwards,”

Agnes chuckled and pulled you towards the door to her house. She unlocked the door and pulled you inside, her lips pressed back against yours before you even had the chance to look around the place. You couldn’t think of anything other than Agnes, the way her lips felt against yours, the way her hands held your cheeks, how her knee pressed between your thighs and gave you the perfect amount of pressure as you rolled your hips softly against her.

“Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted you,” Agnes growled, her lips moving down your throat, “how long I’ve wanted you,”

You groaned against her and began to undo the dark blue flannel. You managed to get her hands off you long enough that you could pull her flannel off and throw it onto the floor. You could see and feel her muscle definition as she lifted you up, her hands supporting your ass. You couldn’t think clearly as she carried you to her room, her lips pressing against your own and down your cheek and all over your neck, anywhere she had access to.

“Christ, Agnes, just fuck me already, please,” you begged, “I need you so badly,”

Agnes cursed under her breath and finally got you to her bed where she unceremoniously threw you onto it. You began to undo the buttons of your uniform shirt and Agnes watched with hungry eyes, her hands resting on her belt buckle.

You got your shirt off and your belt was next, you carefully placed that on the ground, your gun resting still in its holster. You undid the buttons of your pants and pulled the zip down, you weren’t sure what possessed you to make a show out of it but once your pants were down your legs you threw them at Agnes. The older woman growled as she caught them like a football.

“I think you have too many clothes on, detective,” you said, leaning back on your hands.

Agnes threw your pants to the floor and closed the gap between the two of you.

“Since you like to make such a show, why don’t you do it for me,” Agnes growled, her hands hanging by her sides and an expectant look in her eyes.

You swallowed and brought your attention to her pants, that’s when you noticed a bulge at her crotch. You looked up at her, silently asking if it was real. Agnes just raised her eyebrow, waiting for you to find out yourself.

You visibly swallowed and undid the belt, pulling it off and bringing it around your neck. You threaded it through the buckle and pulled, moaning slightly at the newly added pressure around your throat. Agnes’ eyes darkened and her breathing picked up slightly at the sight of you with her belt around your neck.

You let the end of the belt droop down your front as you worked to undo her jeans. You pulled the denim down and groaned, of course she was wearing boxers. You could see the straps of the harness peaking out from under her boxers and it confirmed that it was just a strap. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t slightly disappointed, if Agnes did have a cock it would not only be a first for you but also really hot, having her feel everything you did, if you took her down your throat or when she fucked into you. You had to stop yourself from whimpering at the thought.

You pulled Agnes’ boxers down and she kicked them off along with her jeans, the long, thick purple strap standing proud and right in line with your mouth. You really couldn’t stop yourself from leaning forward and licking a strip up the silicone. Agnes sucked in a breath at the sight and when you began to take the length into your mouth, she moaned as if she could feel it.

“You’re gonna get daddy’s cock ready for you?” Agnes asked and you whimpered, pushing yourself further down.

Agnes hummed in appreciation as you began to gag around the silicone, taking it deeper than you knew you could. In truth, you wanted to take her all the way, even though you knew she physically got nothing from this, you enjoyed it far more than giving head to a man. Agnes tangled her hand in your hair and began guiding your movements, she was softer than you’d have expected. You pulled off entirely, a string of saliva still connecting you.

“You can be rough,” you said with a smile, pushing yourself forward again and wrapping your lips around the head of the strap.

Agnes groaned and gathered your hair into a loose ponytail before forcing you all the way down. You instantly gagged but focused on breathing through your nose as she began to pull you by the hair, forcing you to bob your mouth up and down the length. The sight turned Agnes on more than she cared to admit but she needed to fuck you, to make you cum.

She pulled you off the strap and pulled your head up slightly so she could press her mouth against yours. Her tongue slid into your mouth and you sucked on the muscle making the older woman moan. Agnes pushed your back down onto the bed and moved her lips down, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck. She bit into your skin where your neck met your shoulder and she sucked, leaving behind an angry red mark, a clear sign that you were hers now. You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your lips at the action, the way she claimed you just made the dark patch on your underwear grow.

“If I’m being too rough just tell me,” Agnes grunted, pulling your hips towards her.

“If I can still walk in the morning, you weren’t rough enough,” you said, your breathing heavy with anticipation.

You saw her eyes darken and a low growl escaped her, the sound making you bite your lip. Agnes grabbed your ankles and pulled your hips towards her, hands making quick work of getting your underwear off you. She placed your ankles on her shoulders and pushed herself all the way into you. You gasped in shock, the strap nestling deep inside you.

“Fuck, so deep daddy,” you gasped, your brain already beginning to turn to mush at the feeling of her inside you.

Agnes just groaned in agreement, barely giving you time to adjust before she began to move her hips. She started off slower than you’d have expected, her thrusts deep but slow as you got used to the size of the strap. When she felt your body begin to relax she began to speed up, her hips hammering into you.

You could hardly breathe with how each stroke hit inside you, fast and deep and you knew you’d have bruises on your hips from the force of her thrusts. Agnes’ breathing was heavy and her hands held firm to your ankles. You cried out below her, your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head.

“F-feels so good daddy,” you moaned, each thrust pushing you deeper into the mattress.

Agnes growled in agreement and somehow managed to speed up her thrusts. You felt her hand snake down your leg and then she pressed her fingers against your clit, rubbing small, tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. You whimpered and felt your whole body go stiff, your orgasm crashing over you with no warning.

“Daddy!” You cried out, your legs wrapping around her neck and forcing her to stop moving.

“You feeling okay baby?” Agnes asked, her breathing heavy.

You whined and nodded your head, not letting her move. Agnes just chuckled and began to slowly rock her hips again. You whimpered but began to meet her thrusts as best as you could, your whole body sensitive and barely recovered from your last orgasm.

“You look so pretty like this,” Agnes growled.

You whimpered and nodded your head as best as you could. You barely managed to untangle your ankles from around her neck but you did and dropped them around her waist. You somehow managed to pull your body up, despite feeling like actual jelly, and you pulled Agnes forward by the straps of her sports bra.

The thick material barely restrained her breasts and you were determined to get it off her. You pulled Agnes back in for a kiss while simultaneously trying to push the bra up and off her.

“If you want something,” Agnes chuckled, thrusting into you to get your attention, “then ask for it like a good girl.”

You whimpered at the praise and the movement, your breathing still laboured from your last orgasm.

“Wanna see you,” you said, managing to push through the fog in your brain, “see them bounce.”

Agnes laughed, the sound deep and rich and she almost doubled over with laughter. You pouted for a moment, not sure what you’d said that was so funny and you knew it made you look stupid but you crossed your arms over your chest and stuck out your bottom lip.

Agnes stopped laughing and smiled down at you, a hint of humour still in her eyes at the sight of you pouting. She kissed you softly before pulling the sports bra off and throwing it to the side.

Your eyes widened and you instantly pushed yourself forward, cupping one breast while bringing your lips to the other. Agnes groaned softly and began to rock her hips again, slowly at first before gaining more speed.

“It’s not like there’s much to bounce,” Agnes huffed and you could feel the tone of insecurity that was deeply hidden.

You pulled away from her chest with a wet pop and tried your best to focus on what you were saying instead of how fucking good it felt to have her fucking you.

“I-ah, I think they’re perfect,” you hummed, running your thumb over her now wet nipple, “and they move beautifully.”

“Or maybe you just like tits,” Agnes chuckled, deflecting the compliment.

You rolled your eyes and fell backwards onto the bed, letting the surprisingly soft blankets engulf you a little. Agnes followed you down with her lips, kissing you while she began to speed up her thrusts. You cried out and she swallowed the sound with her kisses, a low growl escaping her as her thrusts met some resistance from the way you were squeezing around her.

“So fucking tight.” Agnes groaned, nipping at the skin of your neck.

You whimpered and nodded your head, wrapping your arms around her neck. She panted into your ear as her fingers found your clit and she rubbed small and tight circles. All you could do was sob into her ear about how full you were, how good she was making you feel as pleasure wracked through your body.

“Daddy…” you sobbed, “gonna cum.”

“Go on baby, cum all over daddy’s cock while she fills you.” Agnes grunted, her own hips stuttering as she neared her orgasm.

You felt Agnes wrap her hand around your throat and squeeze, the action making you gasp. It was the final push you needed as you hurtled over the edge, your back arching as you came for the second time that night.

You could hardly think clearly, your brain already having turned to mush with her strokes, but her words were just adding fuel to the fire. Agnes slowed her thrusts down, her breath uneven as she panted in your ear.

“I… I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had,” you chuckled softly, bringing her lips back to yours.

“Anytime hon.” Agnes winked.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #agatha all along #reader insert #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #kathryn hahn #old women can peg me

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harmonicpearl · 2 months ago

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Something i don't know how ppl still dont understad is how OBVIOUS it is that no Mark is gonna outtake the other, no love (neither for Gemma nor Helly) is gonna outgrow the other. And it's not only a matter of if that is possible (it is, its a tv show) it's a matter of narrative and thematic ideas.

The writers have briliantly gave Mark and Gemma a 5-year marriage and Mark s and Helly a half life relationship (because even if they are very young they have known each other for a huge portion of their concious life). This balances the stakes and validation for each Mark, and makes their battle so interesting, because they are literally equally deserving. And since they are equally deserving, having one of them "win" would be contradicting that claim. It doesn't matter if you as an individual have a preference, as liking one of the Marks more (hell, i myself like one of them more, that's human) but ethics dont work like that, ego death doesn't work like that either and obviously the show is trying to say that. This opens two crucial themes to discuss:

First things first, this impossible-winner situation is the fucking dramatic drive of the show. I wouldnt phrase it as Helly and Gemma because they're characters in their own right, but Mark's relationship with Helly and Gemma is there to represent a battle of the ego and conflicted desire. I really think the show chose to make this a romantic conflict because, yeah who doesn't love romance, but most importantly because we are so monogamous as a society that it was the clearest way to show how these two Marks are different people. We can't fathom the idea that you can love more than one person romantically at the same time (it doesn't matter if it's true, it's the predominant thought of our society). And i think they use this aknoledgement of how society works and they were so right to do so because look what everyone is talking about. That's why im so really shocked that some people are trying to bend the laws and philosophy of this show to theorize which Mark will win or which love will he choose at the end. Neither will, and both will. And simply because narratively, thematically, thats the only coherent choice. One of the Marks "winning" or Mark choosing completely either Helly or Gemma, would destroy the very points this show is trying to make. The love for Helly needs to be a rightful pushing force just as equal as the love for Gemma, just as Mark S needs to keep existing as a foil to Mark Scout. The show is trying to say that (to put this coloquially) doesn't matter how shitty or brief or undeserving your life is to a system or to others you are deserving of human rights, freedom and autonomy.

Which gets me to the second point: This goes both ways. Because even if Mark Scout belittles Mark S's experience, lumon did the same to him when they kidnapped Gemma and lured him into severance. They are both being used. After all, i very much think this is a postmodern show dealing with the residue of modern capitalism. This is a show about the problematic and complex relationship between revolution vs establishment. A modern show made in the past century would have framed this as a straight up victim vs victimizer problem but this is different. Capitalism creates this micro-power relationships. Corporations expoit the white collar worker and the white collar worker exploits the cleaning lady. And even if they are both clogs in a machine, the white collar worker and the cleaning lady may have different ideas on how a revolution should play out, or even if a revolution should occur in the first place. And sometimes revolutionaries can have disregard of the lower classes in the name of grater good. With all the shipping stuff (that i also fully enjoy) we forget that THIS is also the conflic that's taking place between Mark Scout and Mark S. Even if they clearly arent aware of all this shit at the moment.

Even so, they, again, are equally deserving of happiness and compensation. And to put Mark Scout in the position of opressor and opressed at the same time is amazing. They both need to win. But how can they both win? Will they both win? And how would a win-win situation look like? This is why i think severance really is something else. I'm at the edge of my seat because i don't have a fucking clue how they will resolve this. But i trust this show to be better than simply make him choose one of his loves or make one Mark overrule the other. They won't do that, mark (jk) my words. Both Marks need to truly work as one, to understad the other's struggle and see it as equally valid and well, negotiate. Just as the white collar worker will have to negotiate with the cleaning lady if they truly want to make an impact should a revolution actually happen. Both Marks need to understad they are not the real enemy and even more, that the real enemy is the cause of this friction in the first place, a friction that only diverges them from the real goal. Helly's and Gemma's love is only the cathalyst to put in motion this conflict. A GREAT choice because just as the Marks, they too will have ideas of their own on how to navigate this situation, yes, but they will also have a say in the innies vs outies vs lumon conflict and well i think these four are gonna surprise us.

#im gonna write a fucking phd thesis at this point #this show broke me #it also made me a communist again #severance #helena egan #helly r #mark scout #mark s #markhelly #markgemma #severance season 2

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bunnyboysrus · 1 year ago

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Of Monsters and Omegas

I read this a/b/o thing a while ago, I don't even know who the original was by I can't find it again y-y

but it had a thing I'd never seen in a/b/o before, with an idea of an alpha, claim biting another alpha and turning them into an omega (talked to a friend and it turns out this is a thing that has been written about more than once, im just out of touch and its not even friday) and it was an amazing story, super well written, I just personally didn't like the ending cause I'm the #1 advocate for brat readers and not the biggest fan of crybabies or the total pheromone brainwashing that people write for omegas that make them do the complete opposite of what they would normally do, I'd like to think they have more resistance to the chemicals than that albeit at the cost of some physical and psychological pain. so im writing my own, thingy, with a different ending.

18+ Minors DNI - 6.3k words Content Warnings: stalking, obsession, death, fighting, violence, blood, torture(?), kidnapping, noncon touching, suggestive, gangs, some degradation, reader is referred to as 'princess' gender neutrally (im new to this so if theres anything i forgot pls let me know)

The heavy sounds of flesh hitting flesh echoed against the stone walls of the alleyway concealing the battered figures of the people fighting within it. One person lay dazed and immobile on the ground already, followed shortly by a second body, this one out cold before he even hit the ground. The last two fighters standing were locked in a desperate grapple, and despite having been beset upon by three assholes at once, the would-be victim who had been pulled into the alley on their way home from a long day of college classes gains the upper hand for the third and final time. Your muscles burn as you grunt and send the last assailant flying into the hard brick wall, one final crack ringing through the tight, dark space as they slide down the wall onto the dirty ground, right into an unfortunately placed puddle of dumpster juice. They leave a splatter of blood on the stone where the back of their head split on the stained grit.

Blood drips from the knuckles of the hand you run through the sweaty hair slicked to your forehead as you stoop and pick up your backpack from where it had been tossed to the side. You spot a wallet on the ground, knocked out of someone's pocket at some point during the fight, and pocket the cash from that too, for the inconvenience. These scumbags were lucky they weren't dead, yet, anyway. For this? They'd probably be killed within the week once you gave their ID's to your older sister.

You continue on your way back home, wiping the blood off your knuckles and face with the sleeve of your coat as you go.

Why those grunts had seemingly staked you out was beyond you, other than the obvious reason of being a member of their gang's most vicious and historied rival. Your family was a notorious one, a family business dealing mostly in drugs but with a few spare hands in money laundering and data gathering. You were fully aware that what your family did was illegal in a dozen different ways, but it was what you had grown up in, it was what paid for your lavish lifestyle, so who were you to be judgmental? Besides, to compromise within a morally gray area, you know your family prefers to keep things as bloodless as possible, less clean up and attention that way. As a fresh adult who was only in your second year of college however, you were ignorant to most of those details, and chose to be so. You understood why your family didn't want to involve you just yet, and you didn't care to dig into it, the longer you could go with less responsibilities, the better. So, for now, you were content to stay in the dark and live your carefree, well-funded life.

Of course, that didn't mean you were naive or anything. You know very well that you were in constant danger of being attacked or killed, even as you lived a perfectly normal college life. So, as any self-respecting alpha would, you worked out intensely and routinely, to the point of being intimidating even to other alphas. Running into a few punks here and there was nothing to you, even when they came in groups like they had today.

The remaining smears of blood on your knuckles have dried into a crust by the time you get home. Once you've kicked off your shoes at the door, you hide the gory evidence of your altercation in your coat pockets as you step into the living room of your family's manor. Your sisters, Nina, the youngest, and Esme, older than you but younger than your brothers, Leon and Silas, are sitting on the couch closest to the TV, a drama of some sort playing as they shared a bowl of strawberries. Nina beams at you from the couch.

"Hey! How was your day?"

Nina was still in high school, which in your opinion was way worse than college, so the fact that she still had the spunk and energy to greet you so enthusiastically warmed your heart. You smile back at her as you head for the stairs.

"It was pretty good, I finally finished that project so now I don't have to stay late at the library anymore."

"That's great! That means you'll be home early enough to watch Cats of Heaven with me!"

"I should have enough time for that, sure." You chuckle. You had no clue what that was, but if you had to guess, knowing your sister it was the newest silly cartoon that she had become infatuated with. At least she wasn't trying to get you to watch the insufferable dramas that she liked to watch with Leon and Esme, like what was on now, but you would never admit to your siblings how corny you thought those kinds of shows were. You could only hope Cats of Heaven was something more entertaining than the standard soap operas you'd observed.

"There's pizza in the kitchen." Esme calls to you as you start up the stairs.

Ah, so Leon isn't home yet. The oldest of your siblings was the one who normally cooked, more often than even your mother. You call back an acknowledgement before jogging up the stairs to your room. After cleaning yourself of the day's grime, and the blood of course, you change clothes and trot back downstairs, heading for the kitchen to obtain some of the aforementioned pizza. Getting past the group project you'd been working on for the past three months meant more free time after school for the immediate future, and you were all too keen to relax with your family, even if it meant slogging through a show that was potentially horrendous.

You pad back into the living room, already halfway through one of the five slices of cheesy divinity on your plate. You were just sitting down between Esme and Nina when the sound of keys in the front foyer made you all perk up.

"I thought they weren't coming back for another few days?" Esme voices the question on all of your minds, 'they' being your parents and oldest brother, who had left on a business trip a little under a week ago.

"Maybe they finished work early and wanted it to be a surprise." Nina suggests happily, as the sound of footsteps in the hallway grows closer. You're hit with a sudden wave of apprehension at the same time as Esme, both of you standing abruptly to move in front of your youngest sister as a crowd of strangers step into the room with shameless casualness. Leading them, is an imposing alpha man with ink black hair tied at the nape of his neck and burning red eyes so piercing it almost made you shiver to be caught in their gaze. Almost.

The only thing that overpowered the rising fear was anger.

You sprint directly for the leader, arm pulled back for a haymaker, but some beta grunt gets in your way and takes the blow. It's clear from the confidence with which he steps in that he was unprepared for the force behind the fist, and ends up on his face on the floor, dead to the world. The first swing immediately spurs the others into action, and they surge around their leader to subdue you. It turns out to be a much harder endeavor than any of them anticipate, even when one lackey throws themself onto your back to weigh down your movement, you move as though the weight wasn't there at all, ramming backwards and crushing the brave idiot and one other against the wall. You're about to make another lunge for the leader, who has so far been lounging in an insufferably smug manner against the wall, watching the fight but not bothering to get involved, when you hear a shrill scream behind you that stops you cold.

You turn back to see Nina trapped in the arms of a muscly thug, and Esme thrashing on the ground at her feet, held down by two others. Your rage surges and you move to attack their captors, but the momentary distraction caused by your little sister's distress is all the time that's needed for three more men to jump on you and drag you to the ground. It takes 5 people altogether to hold you down as you curse and struggle against their hold trying to reach your sisters.

The leader of the home invasion chuckles condescendingly as he finally moves from his spot against the wall and walks closer, kneeling down by your face, a tight smile on his face that holds no amusement.

"You're just as feisty as ever, second youngest. I've heard all about your track record in fights, your unbroken win streak was so intimidating that I thought for sure it'd take more than that to subdue you. I'm a little disappointed."

"Fuck you!!!" It's all you can manage to spit out amongst your fury and exhaustion; normally you'd be able to throw off even five people, at least enough to get an arm free to strike out, but you were already worn out from your earlier fight. That, and a literal glob of spit that lands splat dab against the side of the assault leader's nose; damn, so close to hitting him in the eye.

The room goes cold and still, the thugs surrounding you and your siblings seem to take in a collective breath of anxiety, looking nervously to their leader for his reaction. To their surprise, he simply stares down intensely at the struggling alpha on the floor as he wipes the spit off his cheek... and licks it off his thumb.

"Oh, are you sure that's smart? You might not care about your own compromised position... but you care about theirs, right?" He glances over to the men holding down your sisters and in response to an unspoken signal, they draw knives and hold them menacingly against their throats. Esme growls furiously, but Nina screams again in fear as tears pour down her cheeks.

"Stop! Stop it, don't terrorize them! You're here for me, right?! Then just take me outside and beat me to death if that's what you want but leave them alone!!!" You still sound enraged, but even you are aware of the fear that leaks into your voice.

"Aww, worried for your sisters? Me too." The faux amusement in the alpha leader's voice is gone now, replaced with a cold fury chilling enough to send a zing of worry into your spine. The leader grabs a fistful of your hair in a painfully tight grip as he pulls your head up, his other hand spinning a set of keys around his finger. Your blood runs cold when you zero in on the plastic pink dolphin hanging on the ring.

Those are your mother's keys.

"You seem to think I'm here because you put a few grunts into the hospital. You're mistaken." The alpha tilts his head as his eyes pierce into yours, searching, but for what, you don't know. "You aren't aware of what your brother's been up to, are you?"

"You'll have to be more specific; I have two." You huff, trying not to stare too obviously at the dolphin, trying desperately not to think of what it might mean of your mother's fate for this asshole to be holding those keys.

"Silas." The alpha says icily, speaking the name like a curse.

Warily, you shake your head, the clawed grip on your head barely allowing the movement. "No, I'm not aware of anything my brothers and parents are involved in."

"That's unfortunate... But I'm already aware of that. It's cute, honestly, did they think leaving you out of the loop would keep you safe and uninvolved?" He gives your hair a sharp tug, eliciting a hiss from the fuming alpha. "All it did was make you the perfect tool for revenge."

"What the fuck are you even talking about you piece of shi-" The leader slams your face into the ground, and although the floor is carpeted, it only buffers the brunt force so much. When the leader lifts your head back up, your nose is dripping blood.

"I'm talking now. Unless you want me to kill your sisters in front of you, you'll shut the fuck up and listen like a good little bitch."

A growl rumbles through you which is met with another face first kiss into the floor, but the alpha doesn't signal anything to the thugs holding your sisters.

"Listen well, as I won't repeat myself. Silas kidnapped my sister, and I can only assume he claimed her. That, or he killed her, but I doubt it. Your mother was helping him to keep them both hidden, and to her credit she refused to sell him out, no matter how much we hurt her." The spinning of the keys stops abruptly as the leader catches them in his palm before dangling them in front of you. "I guess she didn't stop to think about what that choice might mean for her other children, left so innocent and unaware at home, alone. Maybe she had a favorite?"

Your blood runs cold as you take in the intruder's words. You had never been particularly close with Silas, hell, none of your siblings were. He had always been very distant with his siblings, while the rest of you went on to be incredibly close with one another, leaving Silas as the odd one out. That wasn't to say you hadn't all at some point tried to get closer with him, he had simply always made it clear he had no interest. This was probably also fueled by the coddling you had all observed from your mother; Silas had always been her golden boy, incapable of wrongdoing.

"I had no idea... None of us did." You can only hope the sincerity is clear in your voice and face; you genuinely had no idea your brother had done such a thing or was even capable of doing such. If the kidnapping was fueled by anything other than the feud between your families... The thought made you sick.

The leader considers your words, his chilling gaze never wavering in the slightest from yours.

"I believe you. From what I gather, based on what we were able to discern from the phone we took from your mother, she and he were the only ones in on it."

Your relief is short lived when a cruel, mirthless smirk creeps over the leader's face. There's a sudden sting in the side of your neck, you barely have time to register the pinch of pain before darkness rushes into your vision from all sides.

"However... That doesn't alleviate you of the consequences."

A sudden splash of cold drags you unwillingly out of the darkness. You open your eyes, gasping, taking in the dirty, gray stone, the puddle surrounding you; you're no longer in your living room. You now find yourself somewhere dark and cemented on all sides, the cold dampness pervading the space the kind that only comes from being underground. The only illumination comes from a single bare bulb swinging on a frayed wire over your head, the light it casts only making the space feel more unnerving.

Looming over you, face cast eerily in the darkness clumping up around the edges of the bulb's dingy light, is the leader of the home invasion. His red eyes are black in the shadow, but still alight with something cruel and mocking. He has a bucket in his hand, empty save for the last few drops of water clinging to the lip, the rest of it covering you.

"Good morning, princess. Sleep well?"

It's just the two of you, alone. No guards, no thugs, no sign of your sisters. You process this information a split second before you register the weight clamped down around your arms and waist, metal rattling loudly through the small space when you try to lunge for him, only to be stopped short by a chain attached to the wall behind you. You twist your arms violently, feeling the bite of handcuffs digging into your wrists, chains pulling taught where they're wrapped around your waist. Your captor laughs at your efforts.

It's when you growl in response to the taunting laughter that you feel more metal on your face. A muzzle. You can't suppress the fury thrashing around in your chest like a wild animal, growing more and more violent the more humiliation is piled on. The abduction, the laughter, the restraints, the muzzle. You kick and pull and yank and spit and snarl, don't stop even when the metal bites and blood makes your skin slippery against the cuffs.

"Aww, throwing a tantrum now? Cute." The words are barely enough warning before you're shoved onto your back, arms grinding painfully between the restrains and the dirty floor.

Your captor straddles you, his weight keeping your body pressed flat to the ground while one hand settles into the curve of your throat and squeezes. His palm presses lightly into your airway at the same time that his thumb rubs slow, pensive circles in the dip between your neck and collar. You shiver apprehensively when it brushes over the scent gland in your neck.

"I already told you I don't know where your sister is. Fucking kill me already so you can get even, just don't hurt my sisters. They're not involved!"

"Second time you've asked me to kill you... you seem quite keen on it." He smirks. "Unfortunately, you're all involved by virtue of simply being a part of that family. I know none of you are stupid enough to be completely ignorant to your family's doings."

Another growl bubbles up in your throat, only to be choked into silence when your captor tightens his grip around your neck.

"You know, I've thought for a while now that the older you've gotten, the less happy you've looked. The worst time, was right after your high school graduation, it was like the last of your light had left your eyes." His smile softens into something pitying, bordering on sympathetic even, but all you feel is chills running up and down your spine. "You always used to be so carefree, and spirited, it was crushing to see you looking so worn down and sad. It took me a while to realize what was killing the happy you I love so much."

The hands around your neck loosen as the leader leans down, hips shifting against your crotch as he moves, completely unbothered by the water soaking into his pants. He brings his face to your ear, lips grazing against the shell of it.

"Don't you think trying so hard to posture around like a big tough alpha is exhausting? I know it is, I know intimately the sort of shit we go through to come out on top as the strongest, the worthiest... But that struggle never suited you, did it? You've always seemed too sweet for it to me, more like an omega than an alpha."

You can't help but take the opportunity to thrust your head forward and slam it into your captor's face, forcing him back into his upright position. Ignoring the stalker shit this guy was just babbling was difficult, but you decided to skip it for now since honestly you didn't really wanna hear the details...

"You've gotta be shitting me, I've sent hundreds of you losers to the hospital and the grave since I was a middle schooler. If you're seriously trying to compare me to an omega, then I know you're full of it and just trying to piss me off."

He raises an eyebrow, surprisingly not retaliating against the bonk to his head, not yet at least.

"So, what would you call the manicures you get monthly with your sister?"

"I call that self-care and spending time with my sister. Fighting off all your fuckin' grunts wears my hands out and I'm not fond of scars. I deserve a relaxing hand massage for the trouble of beating your thugs up every week."

"And the mall trips where you spend hundreds on clothes which you follow up with a trip to that quaint little bakery where you always get a strawberry cream cake? That doesn't strike you as omega-ish?"

"Go to hell. For one thing, it's insanely creepy that you know all that, and for another, you're stereotyping like a motherfucker. Alphas aren't all meatheads that do nothing but eat raw steak, jerk off and work out, and all omegas aren't valley preps that do nothing but shop and primp. People who think like you are what's wrong with society."

The leader's deep red eyes stare intensely into your face for an eerily long moment before the corners of his lips twitch. At first its imperceptible, and while he clearly fights to keep a straight face, he can't keep down the chuckles bubbling out of his throat for long. He throws his head back in a burst of full body laughter, the least cruel sound he's made since you met him. When he finally manages to calm himself, the leader beams down at you as he wipes a tear out of his eye.

"My god... You're so fucking cute. Do you even hear yourself? You're only proving my point. You're meant to be pampered and taken care of, sheltered and safe from petty street fights and laborious expectations of strength and intimidation. You look so much cuter and happier getting your nails done than you do working out and swaggering around trying to be impressive and domineering."

This conversation had already been creepy since it started, but this was starting to genuinely unnerve you. You try to lean your head further away from the alpha on top of you, but he grabs the front of your muzzle, dragging you closer.

"Don't run away now tough guy. I thought a big bad alpha like you wasn't scared. How's it feel to be the one on bottom? Feeling threatened by the idea of someone putting you in your place? Scared?" He drags his tongue across the thin bars of the muzzle, his breath ghosting over your lips.

"What do you want from me?" You finally manage to ask, despite the tightness in your throat. As much as you expect to dread the answer, you can't stand any more of the back and forth while you wait in suspense for torture, for death, for something. Something other than whatever it is about this whole exchange that is making this guy so rock hard. You're trying to ignore it but, you've been feeling the unmistakable prod of this weirdo's boner against your crotch for almost the whole time you've been speaking.

"Still waiting on me to kill you? Knowing how proud you are, I bet you'd prefer death over what I have planned for you." The freak on top of you chuckles, his voice lowering to a husk as he leans down and nuzzles his nose into the crook between your neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply. "You smell so sweet even now, for an alpha...~ You'll smell even better soon."

Before you can ask what the hell he's talking about, you feel a kitten lick against your neck that makes you freeze. It's light at first, but quickly turns into broad strokes of his tongue and open mouth kisses from shoulder to jaw, wet and insistent.

No way. Nowaynowaynowaynoway. Obviously, no one is incapable of being sexually assaulted but it rarely ever happened to alphas, they weren't exactly the cute, easy targets creeps normally went for. It had never even been a passing concern for you up until now.

"Hey! Are you fucking-gh...!" You choke on your words when a sharp sting pulses through your neck. A heartbeat later, a deep and agonizing burning sensation starts to spread through your veins, up into your head where the white-hot burn is so blaring that it clouds your vision with spots, and down into your chest where your heart starts pounding against your ribs like it's trying to claw its way out. You can only gasp soundlessly as pain like you've never experienced rips through you, tearing screams from your lungs that die before they can even leave your throat, coming out only as gasping whimpers. It's after you feel a second bite and the pain is redoubled that you finally manage to shriek out loud, a sound so visceral and so unlike any sound or scream you've ever made that it doesn't even sound like you.

When he bites into your scent gland for a third time, the pressure building behind your eyes from the pain and the lightheadedness of screaming without pause for breath snaps. You can feel yourself losing consciousness again, and this time you couldn't be more grateful for it.

Your return to the waking world is much slower this time. Whereas before you were yanked out of the darkness with a splash of cold water, this time you find yourself wading through it, a lake of sludge thicker than cold syrup, and it was just as sticky and unpleasant as you imagine such a thing would be. Despite what feels like physical pounds of exhaustion weighing them down, you manage to drag your eyes open.

You feel cold and damp all over, a fresh drop of sweat rolling down your neck. A full body ache that sinks deep into your bones covers you; you feel like you're made of glass, fragile, weak and sore.

A strip of dim, greyed light is shining on the ceiling over your head; its all you can focus on as your awareness swims to the surface and clambers out of the heavy lake still trying to drag it down. You shift and lift one of your arms out from under the thick blanket covering you and notice gauze wrapped around your wrist. A small, delicate gasp to your side makes you turn your head. Nina is sitting in a chair by your bedside, clutching your other hand tightly between hers.

"You're awake! Y-You were sleeping so long I thought you'd never..." She sniffles, holding your hand to her cheek as hot tears drip onto your wrist. You slowly turn your hand to press your palm against her cheek, smiling softly.

"It's okay Nina, I'm alive, it's alright." Your voice is barely more than a croak, scratching painfully out of your throat. Nina grabs a cup of water from a bedside table and gently helps you take a few sips. When you've managed to drain the whole cup, you lay back in the bed with a wearied sigh.

"What happened? I thought for sure I was dying, I..." You trail off, thinking back to the odd conversation you'd had with the alpha who had led your home's invasion. Your head is pounding, and you feel so weak, like you're just waking up from the worst part of a flu, still feeling traces of a fever in the heat trapped in your blankets and the sweat clinging to your skin. A growl from the window pulls your attention away from your condition.

"That motherfucker... He did something to you." Esme is leaning against the frame of the large window casting the gray light over the ceiling a few feet away from where you and Nina are sitting, a cigarette crushed in half in her hand. You can't help but be faintly alarmed at the sight of it; Nina had expressly forbidden Esme from smoking, and she hadn't been caught with a cigarette in over a year. To see her with one in front of Nina, and for Nina to not be making any fuss over it, means something is seriously wrong. A distant rumble punctuates the tense silence that falls over you all, and you notice that the slim strip of sky visible through the partially parted curtains over the window is blotted out with storm gray.

"Did what to me?" You press. Your sisters exchange a look that is far too loaded to discern anything from other than Nina's palpable concern and Esme's frustration. You quickly get tired of waiting for one of them to tell you what is going on.

"Will one of you please tell me what is making you both look at me like I've caught some kind of fatal disease?" You huff, anxiety bleeding into your words. Nina glances one more time to Esme, who adamantly refuses to look away from the window as she throws down her ruined cigarette and retrieves a new one.

"You... Er, well you were... claimed. By Emil." Nina says quietly, staring down at her hands in her lap rather than you.

You stare at her blankly. What she's saying makes sense objectively, but you can't make sense of what it could have to do with you. Claiming was something exclusively done between alphas and omegas. You almost want to laugh and call it absurd, when you remember the sharp, burning pain of something piercing your neck. You shiver as you recall that the pain had been sourced in the same area as your scent gland. Your hand slowly, shakily, reaches up to press two probing fingers to your neck. Pain pulses faintly through you again when the tips of your fingers find gauze wrapped around it.

The weakness pervading your entire body, the nervousness underlying all of the other emotions swirling in your gut, the foreign sensation settled in your lower abdomen... Somehow, you know instinctively what it all means before your sister even says it.

"He bitched you. You're an omega now." Esme's voice has dropped to a low, hard to hear octave. You almost want to believe you imagined what you just heard, but you know deep down that what she says is true. The despair must show on your face, as Nina grabs your hand again, squeezing it tightly between both of hers.

"I-It'll be okay...! Emil is actually very nice, and he's genuinely-" She's cut off by the sharp slam of Esme's fist against the wall.

"Bullshit! Don't even start Nina. He bitched you and he expects you to roll over and be happy about it, but I say fuck that!" She snarls, her new cigarette meeting the same fate as its predecessor as she crushes it in her fist and throws it to the ground. "He's gone on and on at us trying to prove that this is all somehow what's best for you, but he just sounds deranged! He's a sick, obsessive freak, and he wants you to-!"

The sound of a door opening stops her short, and all three siblings jerk around to look at the newcomer entering through the door on the far side of the room from the bed. A woman in scrub pants and a sweater glowers down at all three siblings, looking supremely exhausted.

"You two, you were told you would only be allowed in if you didn't cause trouble. Are you distressing the patient right after they wake up?" She asks in a cold, droning voice.

Nina and Esme exchange defeated, worried glances before Nina speaks up.

"N-No ma'am, we weren't trying to be disruptive we were just-"

"Overwhelming someone coming out of a physically taxing ordeal that left them comatose for almost two weeks." She interjects dryly. "Come on, visitation's over, both of you out."

You expect your sisters to argue, to tell her off for expecting them to leave you alone and insist on staying with you, but to your shock your sisters resignedly stand up and head for the door. Once they've both shuffled out, the nurse (?) shuts the door behind them and trudges over to you. You flinch away from her touch, but she grabs you in firm but gentle hands, holding you still as she looks you over.

"I expected you to stay out for a few more days, but you're one tough little cookie. How are you feeling?"

Bewildered but too shell shocked to question, you answer the questions she asks you as she goes about taking your temperature and blood pressure. One impromptu physical later, she steps away from your bed with a satisfied nod.

"Alright, it looks like your recovery is progressing better than expected. You'll probably be up and about like nothing happened within a few days." You listen to her ramble about your condition before you can bring yourself to ask.

"What happened to me? Is... Is what my sister said true? Am I an omega?"

The nurse goes silent. The pitying look she gives you is all the confirmation you need.

"You should go back to sleep for now. Your body probably still feels very weak. Food will be brought to you shortly but try not to stress yourself out in the meantime." It's all she says before she hurries to the door, shutting your questions down with a firm slam. You scramble to your feet, swaying violently as soon as you try to stand. You power through it, holding down a lurching sensation akin to being on the verge of throwing up as you stagger to the door and wrench at the knob. Locked.

Fear and worry overtake you as you start slamming your hands and body into the door, though what you're trying to accomplish, not even you know. You're too weak to even stand, let alone break down a door, and before long, cold rushes into your limbs and you find yourself sliding down onto the floor, trembling and barely keeping down the bile crawling up your throat. You curl up into a ball and close your eyes.

When you awake for the third time, you don't feel nearly as ill. The ache in your limbs is still there, a mild constant, but it doesn't feel as debilitating as it did before. As you are in the middle of waking, you feel a cool hand brushing through your hair, and smell a sweet scent around you that puts you at ease. You can't help but lean your face into the hand petting you as your eyes slowly open. Snuggled against you, both arms wrapped securely around you... is that fucking freak.

You jerk away from the home invasion leader's hand, pulling him out of what looks like a deep reverie as you scramble to the side of the bed farthest from him. He smiles at you in amusement as he sits up, leaning his cheek against a fist propped on his knee.

"Good morning, princess. How are you feeling?"

You rub your hand over your neck, now free of gauze, feeling the bite marks in your skin in hyper-detail.

"You fucking... y-you, what did you do...?!" You demand, your voice a slightly higher pitch than you recall it being and shaking.

He chuckles like this was exactly what he was expecting, looking at you with a coy condescension that makes your skin crawl.

"I helped you; the first step to setting up our beautiful romance was making you an omega so I could care for you without any power struggles getting in the way. I'm not saying I look down on alphas having relationships with other alphas, but it just wasn't for me." His grin broadens as he crawls closer to you, closing the distance you'd put between you. You try to back up further, but he corners you against the headboard, arms caging you in on either side. He leans his head down, you shrink into yourself as he does but its not far enough, and his cheek brushes yours as he licks up the side of your neck. When his tongue glides over the bites on your neck, a shudder runs through you unbidden. A sudden rush of wetness between your legs shocks you to a frozen standstill. The freak looming over you takes a deep inhale, shuddering in ecstasy.

"I was right... You smell so much sweeter like this!" He presses against you, one knee parting your legs as one of his hands rubs the burning heat between your thighs. You reach to grab his wrist and pull it away, but his free hand catches yours and holds it down. The uncomfortable wetness gets worse as a heat purrs through your core, goaded by his touching.

You feel a foreign sensation crawling through your brain, sickeningly warm and disorienting. It urges you to pull your hands away, spread yourself open willingly before the alpha in front of you. It promises bliss in submission, ecstasy in relinquishing control to someone bigger and stronger than you, someone who could protect and ravish you-

A jolt runs through you as your captor's hand drifts up to dip underneath the waistband of your pants, his face lifting up from your neck to direct his affections to your lips. His attempt to take a kiss is stopped short violently by a fist slamming into his nose. He falls backwards off the side of the bed with an undignified yelp, curling up on the floor for an agonizing moment to hold his face as blood rushes between his fingers.

"W-What the hell... Aren't you...?"

"GO TO HELL YOU UGLY FREAK!!!" The panic you feel is pushed down, rage swallowing it entirely. The alpha on the floor quickly backs up as you get to your feet, fists clenched and shaking in fury.

"But I claimed you...! You can't-"

"I don't give a shit what you did! Did you seriously think I'd tolerate you touching me?! Get the hell OUT!!!!!" You scream loud enough to make your voice hoarse in your already aching throat, grabbing anything you can to hurl at him. Pillows and plastic cups chase him out as he scrambles back to the door, muttering a promise to visit again once you're in a better mood. A pillow smacks into the door with alarming force in the spot where his head had been just a split second earlier. As for the idea of you ever being in any mood that would make you tolerate being in his presence...

Fat chance of that.

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