#wonder if the lovely horror were amongst those two

[vischys]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒔𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒅 upon the Vanguard's bright gratitude, mayhaps she was reminded of a daughter that was no longer in her care.

“According to my husband, the secret is in the lessening of the sourness of the yogurt. Of course, he wouldn't share how exactly he did so, the man is as secretive as a clamp when it comes to his recipes.” Her gaze moved to Vergil at the last part, of which the cambion responded with a subtle arch of snowy brow as he poured himself another cup.

“ It's the sweetener, ”  Vergil informed Ink in a low tone and fey seriousness, head dipped slightly forward as though imparting a grave secret. “ If I must hazard a conjecture, it is very likely a natural substance between honey or puree. ”  His gaze flitted momentarily toward his own tea. “ The odds lean more toward blueberry puree, taking into account the ingredients incorporated in the overall menu. ”

At that very moment, the name of the youth's resident chef, Jaron, flashed in his mind. Totally not in a competitive context. 𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘺 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘶? 𝘛𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘦!

Mrs. Potts pursed her lips, indicating enough hint for the son of Sparda that his culinary conjecture was exactly on point.  “You didn't hear anything from me. I don't want Maurice to neglect his duties in the kitchen in favor of debating with a customer. Again.” Her last word elicit yet another arch of his brow, this time accompanied by a twitch upon his lips to hint a shadow of a smirk, bespeaking the fact that such a scene had happened before in one of his previous visits.

“ Entendu quoi, madame ? ”  The cambion asked in her native tongue, his accent an impeccable finesse laced with jest.

Mrs. Potts shook her head fondly then addressed Ink again. “My husband would like to know he is most flattered by your appreciation for his cooking. Let me know again when you have finished, dearies.”

Vergil nodded his assent and Mrs. Potts left the duo to their privacy again.

Now, returning to the matter concerning other fractions.

"Okay, so here's what I know about fractions. There are four in each part of the city. I think I need a map.... Or napkin."

His left eye raised in amusement toward Ink's creative endeavor of turning a napkin into a mapkin, but he remained silent out of respect and curiosity to wait until Ink finished.

"Okay, so you know the boroughs of New York City, right? There are five: The Bronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, and Staten Island."

The firstborn tilted his chin lightly to the side as he took a sip of his tea, affirming that Ink had his undivided attention. He vaguely recalled the name of those human-crowded boroughs from his travel decades ago, granted he had never set foot in any.

Knights of Darkness, Joshua Star. Lupins, Fin Reer and Amhed Ammit. Elite Demon Anthem, Kali Vin-Shia. And finally, Guam The Great Upstander Campaign.

He mentally took note of the name of each fraction and their respective leaders, with deliberation that his path might cross with any of theirs in a similar manner it had crossed Shdwkyz's and Ink's in the past.

Reflecting upon the details Ink had imparted above, he couldn't but envision these fractions as a manner of vigilante circle, considering the choice of term Ink used to refer to them as and the outlawed activities they are involved in. They also came across as comprising non-human individuals, as evidenced by the Lupins and the fact they could hold their ground against the members of Ink's fraction who were teen-turned demons. Some sort of unspoken yet abiding respect seemed to be held between them that the battles Ink recounted resembled more of a rivalry than actual antagonism.

Which brought new elements of curiosity thereafter, whether these fractions fought for the sake of their own "turfs" as Ink put it, or for everyone indiscriminately -humans and non-humans- in their vicinity. The latter seemed far-fetched given humanity's general aversion and apprehension against anything inhuman, yet Ink's account stood that this Guam, of whom she is seemingly most fond of, with his campaign of a fraction has managed to secure the presidency of his city nonetheless.

𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭.

“ I surmise that the Demon Blood Tears, ” he pronounced each word making up the name of Ink's fraction in a firm, steady cadence, “ –is too a fraction of adjacent jurisdiction with the rest you have enumerated? ” Either Brooklyn or Staten Island, mayhaps? For those were the two boroughs whose domineering vigilante fraction was yet to be mentioned.

The cambion took another sip, recalling Ink's brief albeit conspicuous moment of out of character earlier and couldn't let go an inkling something was still left out pertaining to these fractions.

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒛𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒅-𝒋𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒚 as its holder registered a change in air surroundings his demoiselle as she visibly mulled over his fervent monologue.

How could he not? He was so accustomed to silence and solitude, taking comfort in the serenity of owning his own space, safe and untouched by the harsh world outside. Ink's presence was the opposite of his personal environment, her unsuspecting nature and spring vein brought upon a palpable brightness to his dark corner in the past hour of their shared walk and meal. All of a sudden her smile ceased to be and the ever present ebullience cloaking her character dimmed, to Vergil it felt as though someone has turned off the light that it was impossible to not respond to it.

Grey eyes registered a movement on the edge of their vision and flitted to follow the movement of Ink's hand resting upon her slender neck. They narrowed at the unspoken weight exuded by the simple gesture, the grave upon Ink's countenance recounted a mortal tale that belied her youthful features and for a moment, Vergil felt an urge to call out her name with a gentle between his temperate cadence. His fingers twitched upon where they held the fork, his muscles registered before his mind the desire to comfort, least inquire after what evidently dismayed his demoiselle enough to cast a shadow over her brightness.

But the moment passed as sudden as they began and the Vanguard's smile restored to its default intensity.

The lithe hand holding the forkful resumed its journey then.

"Oh! He's part of a fraction that lives in Queens. A leader of a fraction called Great Upstander Campaign and they live in Flushing! He's a good guy and he's pretty chill. He has a dog named Champion! and-"

The fork was set down thereafter in favor of the napkin as Ink seemed to recall something mid-sentence.

"Vergil...did you know anything about the fractions living in New York? Like Guam's fraction and others?"

Sparda's firstborn dabbed his lips with the deftness of a well bred scion, facial countenance neutral aside from the raise eyebrow which indicated his lack of recognition over the name Guam, his campaign, and his whereabout. Despite his extensive library, most of its content comprises matters and subjects from the past. In this case they provide vast historical accounts of the ancient civilizations, practices, and the glossary of the denizens of the Hadean realm. Yet when it concerned the present civilization and its denizen however, he admitted inwardly that he lacked such a source due to the constant sense of disassociation from the course the current Overworld or rather the modern world has taken.

“I have heard the mentions of these fractions in passing, but hardly a detail nor the moniker of the Great Upstander,” he said, not wanting to reveal his lack of knowledge openly and instead subtly encouraging Ink to elaborate.

It wasn't necessarily a lie, for he did hear whispers of those fractions from none other the broker they encountered on their way here. Dante's colleague, despite his untimely presence prior, was undeniably a maven when it comes to sourcing information and connections. After all, it was the man who gleaned about the existence of Ink's fraction from his own connections to pass her bounty to Vergil in the past.

And as though summoned by a pure motherly instinct, Mrs. Potts came to their table for the the fourth time, bearing Ink's Greek Yoghurt and Vergil's refill of blueberry tea.

“I could be wrong, but something tells me you both need this,” the elderly woman said with her customary maternal smile, but this time to Ink in particular.

𝘌𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘯 𝘐𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘴, Vergil couldn't but surmise as he accepted the refill.

[dollfacefantasy]

From the Day You Arrived

pairing: suguru geto x fem!reader

summary: the night in the village was the first time suguru saw you. you'd haunted him ever since. when he meets you again, he's not going to let you slip away. you will be his.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, dub-con, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, spanking, manipulation, pet names (pet, puppy, pup), reader put in a collar, yandere-ish behavior (obsession/controlling), breeding kink

word count: 5.4k

a/n: birthday present for @kaitkatme. one of the sweetest people in the whole world, someone i love so so much. she makes me happy every day. i'm so lucky to call her my friend <3

It was that night in the village. With the 112 people. With the fire. That was the night he first saw you.

You’d been caught amongst the carnage of that night. You should have been just another face in the slaughter, another light he’d snuff out. But when he came across you in the midst of everything, he froze. Two sets of eyes gazing into one another, completely still as everything surrounding continued in disarray.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. He didn’t know if it was the terror in your stare, the horror in the downward curve of your lips. You made him freeze though. Long enough for you to dart out the back door and run as fast as your limbs could carry you.

The smallest moment in time. One he thought would be the only minute shared between the two of you.

That was until he saw you all those years later.

You’d changed but so had he. Both of you sported new styles of clothing, different hairdos, your faces had aged. When your eyes locked in the middle of that busy street though, it was like the two of you morphed into yourselves from all those years ago and nothing had changed. He couldn’t explain the connection. All he knew was that he wouldn’t let it slip away this time.

He went over to you, introduced himself, and this time, it was you who froze. Instantly, it was obvious you recognized him. He thought seeing the man who massacred everyone you’d known would’ve sent you running, just like you had on that night. But you didn’t move a muscle. As if your legs were locked in place, you didn’t move an inch upon hearing his voice. You ended up responding, and finally, he learned the name of the girl who’d walked through both his dreams and nightmares for years on end. In that moment, he wondered if he’d meant the same to you. 

He took your hand and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. The gesture caught you off guard. He reveled in the slight widening of your eyes. It was obvious you didn’t think him capable of such tenderness. He knew with little effort, you’d be his.

You were still a non-sorcerer, but that was part of what had him captivated. He couldn’t understand how he managed to become so enamored with someone he considered to be objectively beneath him. It was something that haunted him, something he had to find out the cause of. All he knew was that you weren’t going to get away this time.

He lured you back to his place with promises of an explanation, answering the questions that had plagued you all this time. Only when you got there, it was you doing the majority of the talking. He discovered that in contrast to himself, your life had fallen apart after that night. It spiraled so far out of control, you had no hope left for wrangling it back. He supposed it made sense. Losing your entire family and all of your friends would do that to a person. He listened with a sympathetic ear, fingers sweeping down your jaw soothingly as his eyes grew soft with feigned concern.

“Oh, little one,” he cooed, “How could I ever begin to make it up to you?”

As if he had anything to make up for. If anything, this arrangement he had in mind would be you making it up to him for making him question so much. An apology for bothering him with your mere existence.

You were resistant at first. You’d seen first hand the kind of violence this man was capable of. You turned down his offers, made up excuses about why you should be leaving now. He wouldn’t have it though.

“I don’t think you understand,” he’d told you, rising to his feet, “You’re special. You were meant for more than what’s been given to you, more than what you had in that village and more than what you have now.”

You watched him with widening eyes, uncertain of his point. You knew you should’ve been reacting with more intensity, kicking, screaming, hitting, crying, anything. But it was as if something possessed you to stay. To listen.

“There’s a reason you made it out of that night when no one else did. Something stopped me when I saw you. And something brought us back together. I’m not even sure what it is myself, but that’s why you’re going to stay here,” he said, “I’m not letting you slip away again.”

It wasn’t a request. It was a statement of fact. You still shook your head in protest, but he nodded right back at you.

“Tell me honestly, what do you have to go back to?” he asked, “You feel it too. I know you do. You think you’re supposed to hate me, right? But you don’t.”

“You took everything from me,” you protested weakly.

He chuckled at first but kept his eyes serious and locked on you. “Sure I did. But that was a long time ago and not the point. The point is that you’re sitting here like a good girl and listening because deep down, you also want to know what this thing is that connects us. You don’t want to leave. You could’ve tried running by now. You wouldn’t get far, but you could have tried. You haven’t though because you want this just the same as I do.”

“No I don’t,” you said, your tone still not matching the firm nature of your words.

“That’s just too bad because you’re staying here regardless,” he’d told you with a shrug, “Like I said, you can try to run, but I’ll have you back here in the blink of an eye.”

You contemplated trying to get away at first, but as your eyes scanned the room, many factors became clear to you that would be detrimental to your escape. First, you didn't know this place well. Second, you clearly weren’t alone. You could hear other people just outside the room, and you were sure they’d follow Suguru’s word over yours without even a second thought. Also, you could still vividly remember how he treated your people from the village, and you didn’t want to invite a recreation.

Reluctantly, you accept staying with him, and as a reward, he didn’t make you wear restraints.

***

Your new life actually wasn't horrible. The other people who hung around Suguru’s place weren’t all that bad and could be nice to you sometimes. He kept a close eye on you to make sure you didn’t sneak off or get too close to anyone else, but from what he could tell you didn’t. You spent most of your time around him although he did allow you your own room to sleep in.

Unexpected to you, however, was that you actually didn’t mind spending time with him too much. It wasn’t like he was your best friend, but you didn’t despair being around him. You were pretty quiet for the most part, but he worked to figure you out anyways. 

In a way, you compartmentalized him into two. After nearly a year with him, there were two Sugurus in your mind. There was the version of him from years ago who’d destroyed everything you’d ever known, and there was the current version that petted your head and spoke to you as if you were the most exquisite flower just beginning to bloom.

You knew you should hate him. The man ruined your life, and you followed him around and slept under his roof. This was disgraceful, wasn’t it? The lack of fight you put up was embarrassing.

Thoughts like those bothered you daily. The second you’d find yourself smiling at him or engaging him in a conversation on your own freewill, shame took you over. Those feelings led to your first and only attempt at escape.

You tried it when you thought he was busy. Slipping out through the backdoor, you ran away just like you had when you first met. You didn’t know where you were going, but this was what you were supposed to do. This is what anyone would expect of someone in your situation.

But he held true to his promise. You were back within the hour.

You weren’t sure how he knew, if he sensed it, if someone saw you and told him, if you’d tripped some sort of alarm. He followed you though and retrieved you with no effort.

You returned to the place you’d been staying for the last several months. You didn’t even know what to call it. His compound? Sometimes it felt more like his palace. Whatever it was, you were back, and he was pissed. Angrier than you’d ever seen him. That night in the village, he didn’t look angry. He went about his slaughter as if it was just something he had to do. But right now, sitting in the bedroom he’d given you, he looked at you with fire in his eyes.

“What do you think you were doing?” he asks, his voice ice cold.

You look up at him like a puppy who’d been caught breaking a rule. “I wanted to leave. You never told me I could never leave…” you argue.

“Then why did you sneak out the back?” he asks. Upon receiving no response from you, he continues, “Because you knew you weren’t supposed to.”

“I’m not supposed to be here!” you say with the most force he’d heard from you, “We’re not connected or whatever. You took away my whole life. I can’t just forget that.”

He glares at you. “Come here,” he says simply. 

The words chill you to your bones. You walk over to him and stand between his thighs. He grabs your chin and makes you look at him. “I never asked you to forget what happened, did I? No. I didn’t. I’ve never said I’m sorry because I’m not. What I did brought you to me.”

He pulls you face down over his lap and continues with his speech. “You are supposed to be here. I am supposed to have you whether you understand that or not. Your place is here. You belong to me,” he says.

With that, he brings his palm down hard against your ass. You yelp with surprise. It was almost comical, your punishment being a simple spanking from a man capable of mass murder.

“Hush. I don’t want to hear it. I’m growing tired of your resistant act because that’s all it is. An act,” he says, pushing up your skirt and raining down lashes on your uncovered cheeks.

“It’s not. I hate you for what you did,” you whimper.

“No. You hate what I did, but you don’t hate me,” he says.

You don’t respond to that one. It was probably the truth, but you wouldn’t admit that so easily. You continue whining as he spanks you, painting your ass with bruises.

“I mean, how could you? I’m the only one who’s ever shown you real attention, real care,” he says, “You’ve never been anyone’s favorite, anyone’s choice. But you’re mine. You think just anyone would go to such lengths to keep you?”

The words sting worse than the slaps. Tears begin to brim your eyes as barbs form in your throat. “That’s not true,” you say, “Everyone who cared about me is dead because of you.”

“It is the truth. Sure, those people may have cared about you but not like I do. You’re part of my very being, a piece of my existence, and I treat you as such. Your life is so much better here than it ever was, yet you repay me by trying to leave?” he lectures.

You don’t respond again. It was hard to think of an argument as your emotions swell within you and your ass burns. More small whimpers escape you, and you squirm on his lap. He smacks you harder in response and gets a tight grip on your hips.

“And nothing to say for yourself?” he taunts, “I’ve been treating you like the little angel I believed you to be, but now I see I need to handle you as you actually are. An ungrateful brat.”

As a mark of punctuation, he lands the hardest smack yet. You cry out, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle weakly.

“No you’re not. You’re sorry you were caught. You’re sorry you’re in trouble. But you aren’t sorry for what you did,” he chides. He spanks you a few more times before stopping.

He wipes the tears from your cheeks and lifts you off his lap, putting you down on your bed. He stands from the bed and heads towards the door.

“Compose yourself before dinner. I don’t want to hear anymore of your whining for the rest of the day,” he says, “And get used to this room. You’re going to be seeing a lot more of it for the next few weeks.”

Then he left.

You didn’t see him until dinner like he said, and even then he was cold and distant. He wasn’t the version of himself that you enjoyed being around. The two of you eat in silence before he dismisses you to your bedroom without so much as saying goodnight. And things continued on like that for weeks.

He knew how to play you like the delicate instrument you were. He knew he wouldn’t need to spank you again, wouldn’t have to chain you up or starve you. All he’d have to do in order to get you on his side was take away his affection. He wouldn’t be nice to you anymore. That simple. 

He wouldn’t stroke your cheek or call you sweet names, wouldn’t joke with you at dinner or come to your room to say good night specially to you. You’d be treated like everyone else, and he knew you wouldn’t stand for it.

Being in your room all day for weeks was bad enough, but that part was worse. It sounds simple, like something that should be easy to resist. It drove you crazy though. You hadn’t realized how much his treatment had meant to you. You’d craved being treasured for so long, and he’d given you a taste of it.

You crack one night at the end of your punishment. For the first time in weeks, you could roam the grounds freely. But with him practically ignoring you, it didn’t feel like a reprieve. At the end of the day, you go to his room and knock on the door. Already teary eyed, you walk inside when he permits you. Standing in front of him, you look up. Your lip quivers as the words “I’m sorry” spill out.

He can’t suppress his knowing smile.

“For what?” he asks, playing clueless.

“For trying to run away. And for arguing. And for whatever else you're mad at me for,” you say.

“That doesn’t sound very sincere,” he teases, “Sounds like you’re throwing darts at a board, just trying to hit the right spot.”

“No, I’m serious. I am sorry. I just really don’t want you to be mad. Please. I don’t want you to hate me anymore. I want us to be connected again,” you say.

And that was all he needed to hear.

“Well come here then,” he says and pats his lap.

You do so without any hesitation, curling up to him as if you’d done it hundreds of times before.

“My sweet puppy wants to be good again, hm?” he asks softly as he rubs your back.

“Yes,” you whimper. You wrap your arms around him as if trying to meld the two of you together.

He already knew what your answer would be. His precious little pet. Over the course of your time with him, that’s what he’d decided. You weren’t just something elusive that captivated him for a moment. You were the pinnacle of your kind, the closest to divine a non-sorcerer would ever come to be. You were born to be his. Put on this earth as a sweet thing for him to dote on while he continued with his mission.

“Good girl,” he says. He gently kisses the top of your head. “How about tonight you sleep in my bed? Would that make you feel better?”

Surprising even yourself, you nod. The desire to be back in his good graces, basking in his affection again, dominated your thought process. He scoots back on the mattress and pulls you with him, tucking you against his side under the plush blankets.

“You just need some attention. Little puppies like you can’t handle being ignored for too long,” he murmurs.

You nod in agreement, getting comfortable. That was the fastest you’d fallen asleep in years.

For the next month, you truly fell into the role of his pet. You followed him everywhere, holding his hand and watching him with adoring eyes. But the moment he made it official came one night after dinner. You sat across the table from him as usual, eating quietly and occasionally nodding along to whatever he happened to be going on about. That night took a different turn though. When the two of you were done and the table was clear, he looked at you for a moment and then patted his lap.

“Sit with me, my pet,” he said.

My pet. A title you detested at first. In the beginning, it made you feel awful. Though now, it felt sweet in its own way. The term was one no one else got to wear.

You rose to your feet and rounded the table, approaching him to sit on one of his thighs. You look into his eyes curiously.

“What is it, Suguru?” you ask, your voice soft and sweet as it had come to be in his presence.

“How was dinner, sweetheart?” he asks. One hand rubs up and down your back while his other fidgets with the ends of your hair.

“It was good,” you answer.

“That’s good,” he says, watching your every expression, “Tell me, precious, are you happy here?”

You nod. “I’m happy with you,” he says.

“Well, that’s good because I need to talk to you about something,” he says. He reaches for a pouch he had resting on the table. He undoes the tie at the top as he continues to speak, “You know, as of today, you’ve been here for one year. A full year.”

“Really?” you ask, watching his fingers on the strings.

“Yes, and I wanted to offer you something to commemorate such a special date,” he says.

The pouch finally opens and out of it comes a collar made of black leather with the word Suguru’s spelled across the front in silver letters. He allows you to take it from his hands and inspect it, running your fingers over the materials.

“Thank you, Suguru,” you say. The words come out slowly as you adjust to the idea of having this strapped around your neck.

He grins as you don’t even bother to question it. “You’re welcome. You want to try it on?” he asks.

“Sure,” you say timidly and hand the strip of leather back to him.

“Good girl,” he purrs. His fingers bring the collar to your neck and wrap it around. He fastens it into place, not too tight to restrict you but not loose enough that you would forget its presence.

Turning your head to look at him, he takes in your appearance. His eyes scan your face before looking at your delicate neck with his name displayed across the front.

“You’re beautiful, little love. I don’t think you’ve ever looked better,” he praises and kisses your cheek, “My perfect puppy.”

A smile spreads across your lips, and helplessly, you sink into his affection. He continues to pet your head and run his fingers along your face with the most gentle touches.

“You look just as a proper pet should, collared and devoted completely to your owner,” he coos before kissing your nose.

“I like the collar. It feels good,” you say softly.

“That’s how you should feel. A collar is the most natural thing in the world for a precious pet like you. Someone meant to be pampered and doted on,” he murmurs and moves his kisses to your cheekbones and down your jaw.

Eventually, he reaches your lips. He looks at you before connecting the two of you in your first real kiss. You reciprocate the affection and lean into his touch. He goes in for a few more, his tongue flicking at your lips and sliding in to transition into full blown make out.

Both of your breathing deepens and becomes heavier puffs against each other’s face. After a little more, he pulls back and studies your face, your cute lips wet with his saliva.

“You like that, pup? Was that a good treat?” he teases before leaning down to the part of your neck not covered  by the collar.

A breathy moan escapes you as you nod to his questions. He licks your skin before reattaching his lips and nipping at your throat. He places more kisses in the area while his hands massage your waist and move up to your breasts.

“I need to talk to you about something else, little love. Something else that good puppies do,” he says against your skin.

“Ok…” you agree, head tilted back to give him more room.

“I think you & I…” he starts before changing his wording, the only time you’d ever heard him stumble, “I think I need to breed you.”

Your eyes widen and dart over to what you can see of his face. “What?”

“I want to breed you,” he repeats, “My perfect little puppy, full with our perfect baby.”

The words rattle around in your head, but you’re still uncertain. “But Suguru… I don’t know,” you say.

With one more kiss to your throat, he picks you up and seats you on the table in front of him. “What’s causing your uncertainty?” he asks, his hands running up and down your thighs.

“Because… that’s a big deal, and I don’t even know if I want a baby. And we’re not even a real couple,” you reason, your skepticism showing in your voice.

He smirks at your words and nods dismissively. “Little one, we’re beyond being a “real couple.” We’re connected deeper than that, and you know this,” he tells you, “And because of that, imagine how perfect our child would be. A product of otherworldly connection. The baby would make us the family you’ve been missing for so long.”

Thinking his words over, you remain silent. A family? A physical manifestation of the connection between the two of you. It sounded good.

Of course, Suguru knew it would. He rarely enjoyed forcing you to do things. He took pleasure from convincing you of them, manipulating you into thinking as he did. Before you could come to any conclusion that resulted in “no,” he interjects.

“What if we practice? Just try it out,” he offers.

“Practice?” you repeat hesitantly.

“I’ll show you how good being bred feels. How you were just made for it,” he says and pulls your hips closer to the edge of the table. “Lay back for me.”

As per usual, you follow instructions. You lay back against the wood and look up at the bright lights on the ceiling. Suguru’s focus is all on you. He pushes your skirt out of the way and drags his thumb over your panties.

“I’ll warm you up first, little love. Just relax for me,” he says.

You squirm from the budding pleasure in the pit of your stomach. His touch was light enough to not give anything real, but it was still there. He leans in next, dragging his nose in place of his thumb. A kiss lands on your clit through the cloth before removing it entirely. The garment slides down your legs and hits the floor. He spreads you open for his viewing.

“Every part of you is beautiful,” he murmurs.

You squirm a little more as he just admires you. He just stares, taking in every precious detail of you. After what feels like forever, he leans in and licks an exploratory stripe up the length of your cunt. You breathe in a shuddery breath as he laps at your clit and swirls his tongue over your folds.

It’s just a taste though. He uses all his discipline to pull back and slide his fingers inside of you.

“Suguru…” you whine, back arching off the table.

“Such a needy little puppy,” he croons, “You’ve been aching for this and you didn’t even know it. That’s why you have me to show you.”

He pushes them deeper, curling them against your pleasure spots and making you whimper again. A smirk is plastered on his face now as he begins to pump them.

“Good baby,” he coos, “And this is just the warm up.”

Your slick gathers on Suguru’s fingers as he continues his efforts. His free hand holds your hip in place to ensure your squirming doesn’t interrupt him.

“You’re so tight, sweetheart. So eager for me,” he whispers with a kiss to your inner thigh.

Your walls clamp around his digits and draw him further into your heat. He picks up the pace a bit, figuring out what works on you as he goes on.

“It feels so good,” you whimper, clutching the edges of the table.

“I know it does, pup. Better than anything you’ve had before, yeah?” he says.

You nod and moan again as he adds another finger. The stretch wasn’t painful at this point. It just felt like pure satisfaction.

“You’re taking it so well. I can already tell you’re gonna be perfect for my cock,” he says.

He thumbs your clit while working his three fingers back and forth. After a while, the intimate touches become enough to get you to peak. You’re gasping, tensed up on the table before him.

“S-Suguru… can I?” you ask. You knew better than to just do whatever you wanted. He was being kind to you, but this was still his show.

“Can you what, puppy? I have got you dumb enough that you can’t use your words,” he teases.

“Can I- mm- Can I cum?” you stutter out.

“Alright, darling. I think you deserve it this time. Just know it won’t always be so easy,” he says, continuing his motions at the same pace.

You burst before his eyes, seizing up, hands so tight on the table you feel like you could snap it. You cry out loudly, not caring if anyone else were to walk by.

“Thank you, Suguru,” you babble before you’re even in the clear yet.

“What a good girl. You didn’t even need to be told,” he says.

He lets you come down as he stands up and disrobes. You’re still in the fog of euphoria, so you don’t notice how he stands between your legs until you feel his flushed tip nudging at your folds.

Your eyes cast downwards and lock onto his form. He was more bare than you’d ever seen, presented to you in all his glory. He continues to tease your hole, prodding at it with his tip before sliding it up to your clit.

“Suguru…” you whine, “Please.”

He laughs at the pout you attempt before bringing his cock down again and pushing in just the tip. You bite your lip, muffling your noises now that you had a clearer head. That wasn’t what he wanted though. He slips himself all the way inside, getting a needy moan from you once he’s bottomed out.

“Good girl. Don’t try to hide your enjoyment from me,” he says.

“But-” you start before cutting yourself off with a whine. You couldn’t help it when you felt the sensation of him thrusting. “But what if someone comes in?”

“Let them,” he says, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hips, “Let them see how good you are for me, the perfect pet. They won’t do a thing. Everyone here knows better than to question me. And that includes you. So no more questions.”

Heat still creeps up your neck at the thought of someone seeing you in such a vulnerable position, but while your mind swirls with the feeling of him inside you, it’s not enough for you to protest. Your shoulder blades pin against the table that creaks beneath you from his movements. He works to find a rhythm, pleased by your obedience.

His grip on your hips is just as tight as when his fingers were in you, and true to his word, you took his cock perfectly. You squeezed around him just right, so tight and warm. He’d never felt anything so heavenly.

He starts moving faster, pistoning himself deeper, and ripping more blissful noises from you. Your eyes were starting to droop with lust and get glossy with ecstasy. One of his hands reaches up to grab your chin and direct your vision to his.

“You like this, puppy? Feels as good as before?” he grunts.

“Yeah. Better,” you gasp. Your responses are curt as your mind would rather get lost in his touch than formulate words.

“Good. You’re gonna wanna do this more, yeah? Cause we can do it as often as we need. When you wake up, during the day when you get bored, when you need me to put you to sleep at night,” he lists out, “All the time until it takes, and you’re growing my baby.”

You whine and nod eagerly. When you we’re getting fucked dumb, that actually didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

He grins at your agreement. He knew he’d still have to convince you further when you weren’t high on pleasure, but this was definitive progress.

“I knew you’d come around, little love. You know it’s meant to be,” he says before leaning over you, pressing his forehead to yours and burying himself as deep as physically possible. “And I know you’re just gonna be the prettiest little mama.”

Another moan spills out of you against Suguru’s lips as he kisses you. His hips keep rutting into yours, locked in on making his words reality. You both pant when you separate. The heat forming between the two of you was sweltering enough to make you sweat.

“Want it, Suguru. I want it now,” you whimper.

That only spurs him closer towards the finish line as you accept it even more than he had anticipated.

“Do you, pup? Or do you just wanna cum?” he teases. His own voice was straining a bit as he got closer.

“Want both,” you defend between moans.

“Good. Cause you’re gonna get both. Cum for me puppy, want you to cum all over my cock,” he mutters and thrusts harder.

You gasp at the sharp movements and dig your nails into his back. Cut off words fall from your lips, and your legs tremble violently. It’s not long before you cum again, jerking and bucking your hips, whining for him and crying out whatever came into your mind.

“That’s my puppy. My perfect girl. Made for me and me alone,” he breathes, shutting his eyes as the feeling of you clamped around him takes over.

His own breathing becomes ragged as he feels the heat inside him reaching a boiling point. He groans, creating the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard as he fucks his cum into you. His hips keep thrusting and don’t break their rhythm at all. He was going to do this right. His mind was fueled by pure determination.

When you both have come down, he’s still on top of you, not wanting to lose contact with your body. He reluctantly pulls out and looks down at you in you’re fucked out state. His sweetest pet. Scooping you up, he carries you to the bedroom to clean you off and get the two of you to bed. He sleeps with you tucked to his chest, his arms wrapped around you like a vise. He dreams of you on his lap, his hand on your swollen belly, and your eyes looking up at him with unending adoration.

[jksarchives]

IRRESIST

➪ PAIRING; jungkook x reader

➪ GENRE; vampire jungkook, human reader, slight fluff, heavy angst

➪ TAGS/WARNING; violence, manipulation, manhandling, assault, murder, blood, attempted rape (nothing graphic!), angst, sensitive/paranoid oc, panic attack, trauma

➪ WORD COUNT; 7.8k

Trust between a human and a vampire in the context of love is a complicated series of challenges that combines fear, curiosity, and vulnerability. You trusted Jungkook despite what your parents had instilled about his kind and your own paranoia. You loved him, and you had never loved someone so much as him. But from time to time, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if Jungkook had broken your trust. You knew he had good control of himself and would never hurt you that way, but the thought of the unpredictable future scared you a bit.

��₊⊹

Once considered creatures of myth and legend, vampires emerged from the darkness years ago to proclaim their dominance over the earth. They conquered humanity with their immortal lives, undefinable power and thirst for blood, reducing humans to an alienated minority fighting for survival at night.

Amongst the group of oppressed minorities was you, a young college student born into a society where fear and caution were as essential as the air you breathed.

Raised as an only child by parents who had witnessed the horrors of vampire dominion firsthand, you were nurtured with an inherent sense of alertness. They taught you how to navigate carefully in a world where one wrong move could cost you your life.

You heard all sorts of horrifying stories, but it wasn’t until you witnessed their brutal savagery with your own eyes for the first time. And as you grew older, you continued coming across more of the atrocities.

You could never stomach the fact that you lived in a world where merciless monsters ruled over the world and hunted humans like animals, and everyday you were scared for your life and those of who you cared about.

But it was about two years ago when your whole life changed.

It was quite late that day, you were hurrying home after a late class and your mind was preoccupied with thoughts of assignment. But little did you know that the night would transform your world forever.

You were walking through the deserted alleyway, and when you rounded a corner, you stumbled upon a chilling sight. A tall figure stood towering over another man, and his hand was wrapped around his neck with a tight iron grip. The man helplessly tried to break free but it was clear to you that he was no match to the other guy.

You were frozen in horror as you witnessed him effortlessly snap his neck. As you watched the lifeless man’s body drop cold with a thud, a bloodcurdling scream tore from your lips, echoing in the isolated streets as terror gripped your soul.

When the dark figure turned to face you, you felt the colours on your face drain completely. You felt as if your heart was about to jump out of your chest.

He was everything you had been warned about — tall, terrifying, and unmistakably a vampire. His eyes were ruby-red, like pools of crimson fire, and somewhat mesmerising. His skin was pale as a ghost which seemed to glow under the moonlight.

He then began to walk towards you, his movements slow and fluid, like a predator eyeing his prey. Your mind was screaming at you to turn and run, but you felt your feet glued to the ground. And as he drew closer, your heart raced at an unimaginable pace. Your breathing was erratic as droplets of sweat cascaded down the side of your face.

But to your surprise, he didn't lunge at you with fangs bared, ready to drain you of your lifeblood. Instead, he was looking at you with his head tilted to the side, studying your trembling form with curious intensity.

“Are you afraid of me, human?” he asked, his tone tinged with amusement. You nodded, unable to form words as you stared into those crimson eyes.

“You have every reason to be,” he continued, his lips curling into a sarcastic smile.

Like a flicker of light, you saw the colour of his eyes shift to a darker brown.

“But I assure you, I mean you no harm”.

His words should have sounded hollow, devoid of sincerity. After all, he was a vampire, a creature of the night who thrived on the blood of the living. And your instincts screamed at you to flee, to run as far away as possible from this creature of the night.

But something held you in place, a strange mixture of fear and curiosity. You found yourself studying him, taking in every detail of his supernatural presence.

And as you looked into his eyes, you sensed a hint of something else beneath the surface — loneliness, perhaps, or even longing.

Jungkook had walked the earth for ages, witnessing the rise and fall of empires, yet never finding satisfaction in the short-lived pleasures of mortal life. Many feared him, and those who knew of his existence muttered his name in hushed tones, since he was the very definition of a hellish vampire — ruthless and violent.

But the more you learned about him, the more you understood that he wasn’t everything that people described him to be. He was savage for sure, he was also someone who knew his boundaries and had control over himself.

You remembered when you first encountered him. You couldn’t lie, he was everything you have been warned about. But as your encounters became more frequent, you found yourself strangely drawn to him. You wanted to know more about him despite the nagging sense of danger.

And as your relationship blossomed, you discovered a side of Jungkook that few had ever seen — a side that was gentle, compassionate, and fiercely protective.

Your biggest challenge at that time was confronting your parents about your relationship with Jungkook. You both knew that your love was forbidden, and that both sides of the society would never accept your unique relationship.

You, in particular, were worried about your parents' reaction, knowing all too well of the presumptions and hatred that existed against beings like Jungkook.

While it took time for Jungkook’s parents to finally accept you as someone more than just a human they fed on, you knew it was still early to reveal everything to yours. However, the truth could only be kept hidden for so long, as secrets have a way of revealing themselves in the light of day.

It took a lot to muster up courage to tell your parents everything, and Jungkook offered to go with you. Their reaction was exactly what you had expected. Horror contorted their faces, their words laced with disbelief and disgust, unable to comprehend how their daughter could be entangled with such a vile creature.

You remembered how they pulled you away from Jungkook who was sitting down next to you, fear written over their faces as they shielded you from him.

Jungkook could only sit and stare in pain, yet understandably. He knew to be silent, because anything he said would fall in deaf ears. Humans knew better than to trust monsters like him.

But despite their rejection, you remained steadfast in your love for Jungkook, unwilling to abandon the one who had captured your heart. You understood that they were trying to protect you, you couldn’t blame them for that, but at the same time, you knew what you were doing.

If anything was to go wrong, you would be the only one to be blamed.

[𝟶𝟾:𝟷𝟻 𝚙.𝚖.]

It was a chill night, and you found yourself nervously adjusting your dress, your fingers tracing the delicate lace. It was Yunho’s, Jungkook’s best friend's, birthday, and though you weren’t quite sure about going, you knew you had to attend out of courtesy at least.

As you and Jungkook entered the grand mansion where the party was being held, you couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine. There were quite a lot more guests than you had expected. The atmosphere was charged with energy, the air thick with the scent of sweat and alcohol.

It made you scrunch your nose up in disgust. The whole aura made you uncomfortable, but not more than the fact that the house was practically filled with vampires and you being the only human.

You just couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place, like a lamb wandering into a den of wolves. You clung onto Jungkook like he was your lifeline, pressing yourself against him like glue.

“It's okay, I won’t let anyone hurt you” he whispered, his voice soothing against your ear.

As the night wore on, your discomfort slowly waned as you engaged with Jungkook’s friends and the other guests. You learned that a lot of them were quite chill and fun to be around despite being bloodthirsty creatures.

You discovered shared interests with them and exchanged playful banter. You even found yourself joining in on a game of charades and chugging down shots with them. But you made sure to not go overboard.

“Babe, I’m going out to smoke with the boys, will you be okay on your own for a few minutes?” your boyfriend walked up to you and asked.

“Mhmm, I’ll be fine” you told him and gave him a warm smile, “shout if you need me” he quickly pecked your lips before walking off with his three friends. You sighed and took a sip of the apple juice.

Just then, Yunho emerged from the crowd. “Hey, Y/n” he greeted, “oh hey Yunho” you greeted back with a smile.

“Could you perhaps go and grab my charger from my room? My phone is about to die and I’m kind of in the middle of a game right now” he asked, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Sure, where’s your room?” you stood up straight, “first floor on the right, and if you keep walking straight you’ll find a black door. That’s my room” he smiled.

“Okay, I’ll get it for you” you said to him and walked off.

As you made your way up the grand staircase, you couldn't help but admire the intricate details of the mansion's architecture. The plush carpeting beneath your feet muffled your steps as you ascended to the upper floor. Each hallway seemed to stretch endlessly, branching off into different wings of the house.

Despite the vibrant atmosphere downstairs, the floor upstairs seemed to be a huge contrast — as if no one was supposed to be here.

You felt a sense of unease crept over you as you glanced down the long, dimly lit hallway leading deeper into the mansion. The vastness of the house and the thought of getting lost intimidated you.

In the end, you finally managed to find Yunho’s room. Twisting the golden doorknob, you creaked the door open, revealing a very spacious and elegantly furnished room.

After a brief search, you found the charger on a bedside table. And as you went and reached for it, a voice startled you from behind.

“Need a hand?” Yunho’s voice broke the silence, causing you to jump slightly in surprise.

“Gosh, you scared me” you sighed in relief, placing your hand on your chest.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Just wondering what was taking you so long” he let out an airy chuckle as he stood with one hand in his pocket.

You chuckled nervously, feeling slightly embarrassed, “it's alright, I guess I just got a little lost in this enormous mansion of yours” you said. Yunho stepped further into the room, his eyes scanning around before they turned back onto you.

“Yeah, it can be a bit overwhelming at first” he muttered, “but don’t worry, you’ll get used to it around here” he said. The tone in his voice dropped into something sinister, and your smile dropped instantly.

Before you could say anything, the door slammed shut on its own with a loud bang, causing you to jump in fright. Your heart began to race, panic coursing through your body as you realised you were trapped in the room.

You rushed towards the door, your hands trembling as you tried to turn the handle, but it wouldn't budge.

“What are you doing?” your voice shook with fear as you turned to face Yunho, only to find him standing there, a smirk playing on his lips.

Your breath hitched when you saw his fangs protruding menacingly and his eyes glowing scarlet red, a disturbing reminder of the gruesome nature of a vampire.

When he began to walk towards you, you began to move yourself across the wall to the other side of the room. “S-Stay away from me” you warned, struggling to steady your breathing.

“Oh darling, you can’t tell me what to do” he growled with his disgusting grin. With each step Yunho took, your fear threatened to consume you whole.

You pressed yourself against the cold stone wall, searching desperately for a way out, but finding none. The room seemed to narrow around you, suffocating you with his evil presence.

“Please, Yunho, stop this” you begged, feeling yourself choke up with panic.

But all your pleas fell into deaf ears as he slammed his hands on the wall next to you, trapping you under his monstrous body. “Jungkook really hit a jackpot with you, huh?” he leaned in close and took a long sniff from the crook of your neck.

“Your blood, it smells fucking sweet” he said and he dragged his tongue along your neck.

With a rush of adrenaline, you gathered all of your courage and lashed out, striking him with every bit of strength you had. You kneed him in the groin and pushed him off you, watching him drop to the floor groaning in pain. You caught a glimpse of surprise on his face before it contorted into a mask of wrath.

“You bitch” he gritted his teeth as he stood back up on his feet.

With a snarl, he lunged at you, grabbing you by the neck and slamming you against the wall. Pain seared through your body as you fought to loosen his iron grip, your muscles straining against his inhumane strength.

“Jungkook sure taught you well to defend yourself, but I’d like to see you defend yourself now” he grinned sinister as he let go of your neck.

Before you could even catch your breath, Yunho picked you up and slung you over his shoulder as he walked over to his bed.

“Let go of me you sick bastard!” you screamed as you hit his back with your fists, but Yunho remained unmoved. In a matter of seconds, he threw you down on the bed and cuffed your wrists with his single iron gripping hand.

“You can scream all you want darling, no one is going to hear you” he smirked as he hovered over you.

Your glossy eyes widened in horror as your breathing became more erratic. “N-No,” you shook your head, trying to push him off. But he was too strong. “GET OFF ME!” you screamed your lungs out.

“JUNGKOOK!”

┄┄┄┄┄

After indulging in a smoke break with his friends in the dim courtyard, Jungkook went back inside to join you again. But he frowned when he couldn’t find you from where you were standing earlier.

“Have you guys seen Y/n?” he asked around.

His question was met with shrugs and indifferent shakes of the head. No one seemed to have noticed your absence amidst the buzz of the party. But then he noticed something else that he found a little odd. Yunho was nowhere to be seen either.

“Hey Baekho, have you Y/n? Or Yunho?” he asked one of Yunho’s close friends who was drinking with the rest. “I don’t know about Y/n. But Yunho said he was going to his room to get something” Baekho shrugged.

Jungkook muttered a small ‘thank you’ before making his way upstairs. He couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong.

Reaching Yunho’s room, he could hear muffled voices from inside. He tried to open the door but it was locked. “Yunho? Are you in there?” he knocked on the door, but no answer.

Frowning, he attempted to open the door. And miraculously, the door opened on its own, like the lock was being controlled.

When Jungkook opened the door, the sight in front of him made his heart drop.

“Yunho? Y/n?” his voice was barely audible due to shock.

His shoulders dropped as he took a step inside. Unknown to Jungkook, Yunho’s lips curled up in a smirk as he laid on the bed. And straddling him, hair tousled and eyes wide with shock, was you. Quickly wiping the smirk off his lips, Yunho pushed you off and got off the bed.

You, eyes wide with fear and desperation, got up and ran to reach out to Jungkook, your voice trembling as you tried to explain yourself. “Jungkook, l-listen to me” you said as you held his arm.

But Jungkook was quiet as he stared at you, standing there as his mind reeled with a thousand emotions. Before you could go on to say anything else, Yunho cut in.

“Your girlfriend isn't all innocent as she plays Jungkook” he said as he fixed his clothes. “I tried to stop her, and remind her that she has a boyfriend, just she just wouldn’t listen” he tried to explain.

All Jungkook did was stare and listen to what was being said. “You lying bastard!” you screamed, lunging towards the blond haired vampire and grabbing him by the collar.

“We’re going home” Jungkook’s deep murderous voice spoke up, and you froze at the chilling tone that you never heard before.

He grabbed you by the arm and dragged you out of the room, and you briefly turned to Yunho who smirked as he waved his hand at you.

“Jungkook wait! He’s lying! That’s not the truth!” you protested as you tried to keep up with the speed that he was pulling you with. But he said nothing.

When you finally reached downstairs, all eyes were on you. “Stop!” you shouted, stopping in your tracks and harshly pulling your arm out of your boyfriend’s tight hold. Your chest heaved with each ragged breath, your hands trembling as you clutched your dress.

“We’re not leaving until you know the truth!” you said.

“Stop making a scene Y/n” Jungkook gritted his teeth as he stepped towards you. “I’m not Jungkook! Your best friend is a fucking liar! He tried to-”

“I think you had quite a lot to drink Y/n, you should go home and rest” you heard Yunho’s voice cut you off. You saw Yunho making his way downstairs and the guests made way for him to walk through towards you.

“You’re my best friend’s girlfriend Y/n, I would never have any ill intentions about you” he looked at you with a soft gaze, but you knew it was all fake.

“It’s okay, I know you made a mistake, you don’t have to lie” he then said, and you didn’t miss the slight smirk that he gave to you.

At the moment, you felt your body fire up in anger. And then, you raised your hand and smacked him hard across the face. The crowd of guests gasped in shock as Yunho’s head snapped to the side, and Jungkook was quick to pull you back.

“You asshole!” you screamed. Yunho clenched his jaw as he tried to control his anger, and he raised his head back up and smiled at you. “You’re a monster, a sick bastard! You don’t deserve to be Jungkook’s friend, or anywhere near him!” you ranted.

“THAT IS ENOUGH!”

Jungkook’s loud angry voice cut through the air, silencing everyone in the room. You flinched and turned to your boyfriend, swallowing a thick lump as you eyes his furious form.

Without saying another word, he grabbed your arm and pulled you with him. You turned and glared at Yunho for the last, whose smirk never seemed to fade the entire time.

The music faded into the background as you both reached outside. You stumbled along the way, trying to keep up with his swift pace, and your heart raced with anxiety.

“Jungkook please listen to me” you pleaded, but he remained quiet. His jaw clenched tightly as he dragged you towards the car.

┄┄┄┄┄

[𝟷𝟶:𝟶𝟶 𝚙.𝚖.]

The door swung open with a loud thud as Jungkook stumbled through, his eyes clouded with anger. The usually quiet and snug atmosphere shifted abruptly as he dragged you inside by the arm with a force that made you whimper in pain.

Your cries echoed through the large hallway, a desperate plea for him to release you from his iron grip. Tears streamed down your cheeks, mixing with the traces of blood from where his fingers dug into your delicate skin.

“Please, Jungkook, you're hurting me” you sobbed, your voice barely audible amidst the chaos of your entry. But Jungkook’s grip only tightened, his face contorted with rage as he pulled you further into the house.

Finally when you both reached the living room, he released you with a harsh shove, sending you sprawling to the floor. You curled up into a ball, clutching your injured arm as tears continued to stream down your face like waterfall.

For a moment, there was silence as you looked up at him in disbelief and fear. The only sound heard was his ragged breathing and your choked cries as he glared down at you.

This wasn’t him.

This wasn’t the man who promised you his love and protection.

Pushing yourself up, you steadied your trembling limbs. You then began taking cautious steps towards him as you reached your hand out for him.

“P-Please, hear me out, please baby” you pleaded with your shaky voice. But Jungkook was quick to push your hand away, his expression hardening as his fists clenched at his sides.

“What is there to hear about Y/n? I saw it, you were fucking all over him!” he yelled.

You violently shook your head in denial and grabbed his hands in your shaking ones, “n-no, it’s not what it looks like! Please, you have to believe me” you panicked.

“H-He asked me if I could fetch his phone c-charger from his room a-and I went to get it. T-Then he just came in out of n-nowhere a-and locked the door, a-and he-” you frantically blabbered, but Jungkook’s loud voice stopped you midway.

“STOP!” he screamed, causing you to flinch and cower in fear. “Don’t you even try to make up excuses.” he gritted his teeth as he took a step forward.

“Seriously Y/n? My best friend? You chose to fuck with my best friend?” he questioned as he took another step closer. Each step he took towards you, you took a step back, until you found yourself being trapped in between his intimidating presence and the brick wall behind you.

“It’s not like that Jungkook, he’s lying. Please listen to me, it’s all a misunderstanding” you cried, your eyes begging him to believe you. You let out a sharp gasp when he slammed his hand on the wall next to you.

“Shut up! Just shut up!” he yelled in your face. “Yunho and I’ve been best friends for years, way back before you or your grandparents were born. I know for a fact that he’s not what you’re trying to paint him as, so just fucking stop, okay?!” he said.

Your heart dropped, but then it started to race as you began to realise that the man you loved may be slipping away from you over a grave misunderstanding. Your shoulders dropped in defeat and all you could do was stare at him with your tearful eyes.

He wasn’t believing you.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” you asked, your voice barely above whisper.

Instead of answering, he leaned in closer to you, your noses almost touching, as his nose flared in anger. A choked sob escaped from you, “what do you think of me as Jungkook?” you questioned.

“Do you think I’m some kind of slut? Is that what you really think of me?” you silently cried.

“You know me better than anyone. You know what I love and what I hate. You know my fears. But most importantly, you know that I love you, and only you” you said. “I can’t believe you would question my loyalty” your words came out as a whisper.

You were angry. Hurt. Frustrated.

The man who was supposed to take your side was now against you, blinded by what he only saw on the surface and not the depth of the truth.

Not wanting to deal with him any longer, you pushed him off you and tried to walk away. But Jungkook quickly caught you by the arm and pulled you back, slamming you against the wall. You whined in pain as your back came in contact with the hard brick wall.

“Where do you think you’re going? We aren’t done talking yet” he snapped, and you felt his fingers digging in your shoulders. “We’ll talk when you’re in your fucking senses” you snapped back, glaring at him with your red and glossy eyes.

“Now let me go” you tried to remove yourself from his tight grip, but he was too strong. The struggle to break free from his hold would soon come to a stop when you heard a low inhuman growl. When you looked up at Jungkook, you saw something that made your blood run cold.

His once gentle gaze now glowed with a sinister crimson hue, and you watched in horror as his fangs elongated before your very eyes.

“J-Jungkook?” you stuttered in fear. A guttural growl escaped his lips, sending shivers down your spine as you realised. He wasn't just angry — he was something else entirely.

“You’re mine, and only fucking mine. Got it?” he growled. Your heart hammered in your chest, your breaths coming in short, panicked gasps as you struggled to free yourself from his grasp. “S-Stop Jungkook, you’re s-scaring me” you tried to tell him.

But he was far from reality.

A terrified squeal escaped your mouth when he grabbed your face and pulled it close to his. “Jungkook,” you whispered, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your own heart. “Please stop, you’re scaring me baby” you choked on your sob.

But there was no humanity left in his gaze, no trace of the man you loved. Only a possessive rage that made your stomach churn with dread. This wasn’t your boyfriend. This was a creature of the night. A monster that everyone feared.

A vampire.

Your breathing was erratic. You struggled to breathe as the world spun around you. You clutched at your chest, your heart racing uncontrollably. And when it couldn’t withstand the weight of fear and distress, you felt yourself slipping. And before you knew it, your vision soon faded into darkness.

The last thing you remembered was your body dropping down, but a pair of strong arms caught you just before impact.

As Jungkook caught your limp form, his mind snapped back to reality. He blinked and shook his head as the haze of his vampire instincts faded away. Slowly, his eyes travelled down to your unconscious body, and his heart dropped like a stone in his chest.

“No…no no no” he panicked.

He cradled you close, his hands trembling as he brushed the strands of hair from your pale and tear stained face. “Y-Y/n?” he shook you, “baby wake up, I-I’m sorry” his voice cracked with desperation.

But you remained unresponsive. Your breathing was slow and faint, and your body was cold. “Fuck! What have I done?” a frustrated cry escaped from him. Regret was consuming him whole. But at the same time, anger boiled within him, directed not at you, but at himself for losing control. He didn’t mean to, but he was a monster after all.

His eyes stung with tears as he quickly picked you up in his arms and rushed you up to your shared bedroom. He kicked the door open and walked towards the bed. Gently placing you down, he fished out his phone from his back pocket. With shaking hands, he dialed his private doctor. After a few rings, the doctor picked up. Jungkook hurriedly expressed his urgency.

Ending the call, he chucked his phone on the nightstand. As he awaited help, Jungkook sat down next to your still form and tenderly held your hand, feeling his heart heavy with guilt. “I’m so sorry baby, I don’t know what got into me” he sniffled as his thumb gently caressed over your cold hand.

He knew he fucked up. He knew things weren’t going to be easy when you woke up, and he feared it would change your relationship forever.

Perhaps your parents were right, he really wasn’t any different to the other vampires. All of them were blood sucking creatures, and that perhaps that was their only purpose. Maybe he really wasn’t capable of loving anyone, let alone a human.

┄┄┄┄┄

[𝟷𝟷:𝟹𝟻 𝚙.𝚖.]

Jungkook paced anxiously around the room as the doctor checked up on you. And after what felt like an eternity, the doctor finally straightened up and met his gaze with a reassuring smile.

“She's fine, Jungkook. It seems like she fainted because of shock and stress” he explained with a calm and steady voice. Jungkook’s shoulders sagged as he let out a shaky breath of relief.

“She just needs to rest for a while. I’ll give her a vitamin injection and it should help her gain some energy when she wakes up” he then explained. Jungkook nodded and let the man do his job.

The doctor, Dr. Kim, checked your vitals once again using his stethoscope and blood pressure monitor. Once he was done, he removed the stethoscope and covered you with a blanket before turning to face Jungkook.

“Nothing to worry about now, she’s going to be alright. She should be awake in the morning” he said to him. “Thank you Dr. Kim” Jungkook thanked as his tired eyes stared at him, his voice filled with gratitude.

“No problem, if anything else happens, do call me” he said, and Jungkook hummed. Having said that, he helped him back to his car.

┄┄┄┄┄

[𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗��𝚡𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚢 — 𝟶𝟾:𝟻𝟶 𝚊.𝚖.]

As the sunlight crept through the curtains, you began to stir from your slumber. With a soft groan, you slowly sat yourself up, your eyes squeezed shut against the throbbing headache. Your hands gently massaged your temples to soothe the pain, taking slow deep breaths.

As the dull ache subsided, you opened your eyes expecting Jungkooking to be sleeping next to you, but he wasn’t there. The side of his bed was neat and empty, like he hadn’t slept there at all.

The events of last night flooded back to you like a tsunami, and you couldn’t help but shiver. Your mind raced with many thoughts which were all over the place, but nothing more than dread and heartache. You weren’t ready to face him at all. You were simply scared to.

Removing the blanket, you got up from the, and you almost lost your balance which caused you to stumble. Your legs still shook even after everything yesterday, but you managed to push yourself to stand firm. You never thought you would have to be cautious in the very house you felt safe and protected. It felt as if you were living the way you have lived before you met Jungkook.

You looked around the room and gulped, nervous to move a muscle. You were scared he was going to jump in front of you with his menacing form and glowing red eyes.

But you felt icky and disgusted from Yunho’s touch, and you wanted to wash off every mark and scent of him from your body. Inhaling a breath, you took your first step, and you walked towards your wardrobe to grab clean pair clothes. You then proceeded to make your way into the bathroom.

After the shower, you changed into your blue jeans and plain white shirt. You stood in the middle of the room as you looked around with a heavy heart. The room, once filled with laughter and love, now felt cold and unfamiliar to you.

Shutting your eyes for a brief moment, you let out a shaky breath and controlled yourself from breaking down. You had one thought in your chaotic mind, and it was that you needed to get out of here. You opened your eyes and went to grab a large suitcase and a duffel bag. You then began grabbing all your clothes from the wardrobe and stuffing them into the suitcase.

Each item you carefully folded and placed into the suitcase held memories of yours and Jungkook’s time together: the pale yellow sundress which you wore on your first date, the denim jacket which you wore when you had your first kiss, the polka dot pyjamas you wore when you both had your first argument, and the red silk dress you wore the night he made love to you for the first time.

Your movements were slow and deliberate, your heart growing heavier as the wardrobe became emptier. Tears welled up in your eyes as you zipped up the suitcase and the duffel bag, and your hands dropped to your sides as you stepped back a little.

You looked around the room one last time, not missing a single corner. You looked at the photo frame on the wall above the bed, it was the two of you smiling together, taken on a sunny day in the park. You could help but feel a pang of sadness in your chest.

You could feel the muscles in your chest tighten in despair at the thought of how all this was ending. How had it all come to this? But you knew you couldn’t stay here anymore. Despite your love for Jungkook, you couldn't shake the fear that was bubbling inside you.

Maybe what happened yesterday was a wake up call, that no matter how much he loved and cared about you, the shadow of the monster that he was would always be part of him. But most importantly, you couldn’t ignore the betrayal you felt and the lack of trust he had in you.

Sniffling and wiping away your tears, you grabbed your things and turned around to leave. But the sight of Jungkook standing by the door made you gasp in fear and drop everything you hand in your hands. “Y/n?” his voice was calm and low, something that would’ve usually soothed you, but not now.

Jungkook looked at you and your packed belongings before his eyes turned to you. “You’re…leaving?” he asked with a hurt voice. But you stayed quiet as your breathing started to quicken.

Jungkook knew you were still shaken so he tried to be careful and calm with his approach. “Can we talk? Please baby” he pleaded as he took a step forward, only for you to take two steps back instinctively. “N-No, stay a-away” your voice shook. Jungkook’s heart sank at the rejection, but nothing more than the fear that was written all over your face.

You were scared of him.

He felt a lump form in his throat and tears prickle in his eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you” his voice cracked. He knew you would be scared, he just didn’t know how bad it was until he took another step forward with his hand reaching out to you.

You screamed as you backed away and fell to the ground. And you pulled your knees to your chest while your hands clamped to your ears. “P-Please, d-don’t come near m-me” you fearfully said. “Y/n-”

“I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me” you cried, cutting him off.

And in that moment, Jungkook felt his whole world fall apart. His eyes widened slightly and his breath hitch, and his knees grew weak before he dropped down to the floor. The silence was loud and deafening, only your muffled sobs and ragged breathing could be heard.

Who would’ve thought that a bloodthirsty monster like him would cry over a mortal human whom he scarred and traumatised for life? “B-Baby, I’m not going to hurt you” he choked on his cry as tears streamed down his face, “please don’t be scared of me”.

But his words seemed to fall on deaf ears as you continued to cry, your fear too overwhelming to be soothed by mere words.

“I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry” he slowly crawled towards you, but you immediately pushed yourself back. Jungkook’s heart only sank deeper and deeper. His usual pale face was flushed as he desperately tried to comfort you, and somewhat himself.

But he knew he was losing you, and the reality of it all scared him. Jungkook knew that whatever that he tried to do, it wasn’t going to work. You were beyond his reach now.

“But you did Jungkook” you finally spoke up as you raised your head, “you did hurt me” you said.

You looked at his crying form as his eyes made desperate pleas towards you. “You hurt me when you didn’t believe me, you hurt me with your words, and you hurt me the way you manhandled me like I was some ragged doll” you snapped at him.

“If I stayed conscious any longer, what were the chances that you weren’t going to hurt me?” you lashed out, questioning him. Jungkook remained silent as he questioned himself.

Was he really going to hurt you?

“I wasn’t thinking straight, I really wasn’t. I’m so sorry” he croaked.

“No amount of sorry is going to fix this Jungkook. The damage is done” you shook your head. “I was begging you to listen to me, to believe me, but you didn’t. You just let your jealousy and insecurities get the best of you” you continued.

“I don’t care how long you’ve known Yunho for and how good of a friend he is to you, but he’s a sick bastard who tried to take advantage of me. And just when I tried to fight back and you walked in, he took it as a perfect opportunity to paint me as a cheater, and you believed him” you said.

“I’m sorry” he kept mumbling as he silently cried. “You know how scared I am of vampires already, did you really think I would ever cheat on you with one?” you asked. You took off your leather jacket and rolled your sleeves up to your shoulders.

“If I had really cheated on you, I wouldn’t have these on my arms” you said as you pointed at the dark spots of bruises on both of your arms, most importantly the hand print around your neck.

Jungkook’s cries came to a halt when his eyes landed on all the marks on your arms and neck. He stopped breathing for a second and his defeated eyes suddenly grew dark and enraged.

“The worst part is, I don’t even know who caused which ones, Yunho or you” you said, your voice sounding tired. Jungkook’s heart sank at your words, and it was the realisation that he and Yunho were no different which haunted him. Yunho hurt you, but so did he.

Jungkook quickly crawled closer to you and you let him. His cold and shaky hands reached to cup your face and lift your head up a little. You flinched at his touch and your body stiffened, but you let him. His watery eyes scanned the bruise around your neck, specifically the hand print, and you could see the fury bubbling inside his eyes and the way his body violently shook.

“H-He-”

“yes Jungkook, he, your fucking best friend” you interrupted. “And there’s no point going up to him now, because it’s too late. What’s done is done. He won’t regret a thing even if you beat the crap out of him” you told him.

Jungkook hated that you were right. He knew Yunho seeked pleasure in destroying things and hurting others. He just wished he had realised it sooner when he tried to hurt you.

“I’m not going to beat the crap out of him” Jungkook shook his head, “I’m going fucking kill him” he said.

You couldn’t help but chuckle in mockery, “too late don’t you think?” you looked at him. “I don’t care what you do with him Jungkook, just please,” your eyes softened, “just please leave me out of this mess, and let me go” you begged.

“I’m scared, okay? After what you pulled yesterday, it made me realise that you’re no different to the rest of the vampires. And as much as it hurts to let you go, I know it’s the best for me and to keep myself and my family safe. I hope you can at least respect my decision and leave me alone after this” you softly cried.

Jungkook’s shoulders dropped and his heart shattered into pieces. He knew this was coming, but he didn’t prepare to deal with the pain it came with.

“And you know what I’ve been thinking of lately before all this happened?” you then began, and all Jungkook could do was sit and listen.

“I’m a human who is bound to die when my time comes. I will grow old while you stay young and live for many more years to come. How was our relationship going to work? When I die, would you live on to find your next lover and forget about me? Could there be a way for me to live with you forever?” you spoke.

Jungkook was thrown back at your words, but coming to think about it, his heart dropped. “You know I would search for a lifetime to find a way for us to be together forever” he said, and you chuckled. “But I guess that doesn’t matter anymore. Not when you doubted my loyalty” you told him.

You grabbed your jacket and wore it before standing up. Your legs shook and you were about to fall, but Jungkook quickly caught you. But you flinched and pushed him away. Jungkook felt his chest tighten and he clenched his fists as he retracted his hands.

He knew your decision was final and that he had to let you go. There was nothing he could do but blame himself for what he had caused. “I’m sorry princess, I really am. I never meant to hurt you like this” his lips quivered the spoke, “and I’m sorry I didn’t believe you” he cried. 

Your heart ached watching him cry. Vampires weren’t emotionally sensitive and known for having thick skin. But with Jungkook, you knew he was truly regretting. You could see how defeated and desperate he was at the same time. He lost you, and he was scared of what his life would be without you.

“It really didn’t have to end this way Jungkook. I love you, but I can’t be with someone who doesn’t trust me, let alone someone who would kill the woman he loves over his own insecurities” you responded. Jungkook shut his eyes as he cried, gripping a fistful of his hair.

“I’m sorry” he kept repeating like a chant, as if he wished it would magically fix everything. “Yeah, me too” you said. You stared at him for the last time before grabbing your things and leaving.

That was the last time you had seen Jungkook, and it tore you to pieces having to leave a man who you thought was the one. But turns out your parents were right all along — he was just like the rest of the night hunters.

You didn’t know how to face your parents after this, but you knew that as long as you were safe, it was all that mattered to them. When you moved back with your parents, they welcomed you like a lost child finally being returned home.

They felt bad about what happened between you and Jungkook, but a big part of them were relieved that you were no longer associated with a creature like him. It was hard adjusting to your new routine without Jungkook, and you had a few mental breakdowns every now and then thinking about him.

You missed him so bad no matter how much you hated him. He was your first love, and getting over your first love is never easy.

But there has always been a nagging feeling inside of you that no matter how much you both loved each other, the two of you were just not meant to be. While you grow old and rot away after death, Jungkook will continue with his life for a hundred more years. And you couldn’t help but think of the possibility of him finding a new lover.

The thought of it all made you want to dig up a hole and bury yourself in it.

But at one point, you knew you had to learn to move on and not let the pain drag you forever. You took it as a lesson to not trust anyone and always look out for yourself and the people you cared about. You hoped that Jungkook would keep your words and not meddle with you and your life again.

Days blended into nights as Jungkook roamed the darkness. His immortal existence stretched before him, a seemingly endless expanse of emptiness. He never felt so lost and alone in his entire lifetime.

He didn’t know what his purpose was anymore without you, and the pain of the heartbreak will forever haunt him. He couldn’t keep the promise he made to his mother, to never hurt the person he loved, yet here he was.

But Jungkook kept his promise when he said he would never hunt down a human. Instead, he spent his nights hunting for the blood of animals in the nearby forest. Despite his forced isolation, Jungkook couldn't bring himself to cut all ties with you. From a distance, he would watch over you like a silent guardian in the shadows.

He remembered your words and promised to not let a single vampire go near you and your family. But he still longed for your touch, yet he knew that his very presence could only bring you harm.

But Jungkook had more pressing matters to attend to than his broken heart.

Yunho was still around doing what he usually did, like he didn’t do anything wrong. So there he stood, in front of his best friend’s house, with a wooden stake tightly gripped in his hand. His jaw was tightly clenched and his gaze hardened as he huffed out a breath before kicking the door open.

Despite his immortal nature, Jungkook had never felt more human than in that moment, consumed by the agony of lost love and the burning desire for revenge.

There, in the dimly lit living room, sat Yunho who had a smirk playing on lips. “Oh? Jungkook?” Yunho slightly tilted his head, acting clueless.

But Jungkook didn’t say a word, because he knew Yunho was well aware why he was here. With a gaze as cold as death itself, he advanced towards him, the stake glinting ominously in the moonlight.

There was no need for explanations, no room for apologies. Only justice, swift and merciless, could mend the shattered fragments of his wounded heart and joy.

𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗩𝗘𝗗

@𝗷𝗸𝘀𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗶𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰

©️

[n3wstxd]

𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄

𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐊/𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍

warnings: psychological torment, non-consensual biting (at first), slight blood kink, begging, anal fingering, rimming, anal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, graveyard sex, sex on top of a literal grave but it’s okay cus it’s Kirk’s

Happy Halloween! I tried my hand at writing about (Jason) being scared, and there are first times for everything :)) anyways enjoy! (What I mean by crypt btw)

word count: 7.4K words (you were warned)

nsfw under the cut :)

Halloween. Kirk’s favourite holiday, where he could go out and mingle at parties without having to obscure his vampirism. He was starving, aching for fresh meat to sink his fangs into. The party he attended this year was wonderful—so many lovely choices of men and women, all dressed to the nines.

He scans the room, red eyes settling on the forms of Lars and James, dressed as a mummy and a shitty werewolf respectively. His friends spot him too and beckon him over. 

“Settling on the vampire look again?” Teases Lars.

Kirk rolls his eyes, adjusting his hair to stay out of his face. 

“And you’re a goddamn Mummy,” he retorts, shaking his head. “You two look like shitty actors from one cheap horror movie.”

Lars laughs and pats Kirk’s shoulder.

“At least we try something new,” he says cheerfully. “You wear the same thing every year and you’re only in disguise because you don’t want people to know you’re a blood-sucking monster.”

“And your costume is what exactly?” Kirk shoots back, not amused. “You look like a dollar-store bandage come to life. Not very scary.”

James snickered and leaned against the wall.

“You both look ridiculous, alright? But it’s a good night for hunting,” he says with a grin, a sly look on his face. “A lot of people here look very…tasty.”

Kirk smirks and looks around the gathering, taking note of some of the more delectable candidates. His gaze lands on a beautiful young man, standing by himself and looking rather lost. 

“Yeah…I guess there are a few options,” he muses, licking his lips absently. “I might go over and introduce myself to the pretty one over there.” James whines. “I was gonna go for him.”

Kirk snorts and shakes his head.

“You? You wouldn’t know what to do with him. He looks like the kind of man who’s sweet, polite, innocent. You’d scare him away with one dumb sentence, you big brute.”

James laughs at that. “And you’re going to be the charming prince swooping in to save the poor, innocent damsel?” Kirk rolls his eyes and grins arrogantly. “Of course. I’m far too charismatic to drive him away. I’ll charm the pants right off him.”

James snickers and pats his shoulder. “Well, alright. He’s all yours then. Try not to drain him fully when you finally sink your fangs into his pretty neck.” 

Kirk rolls his eyes and straightens his getup, adjusting the velvet cape around his shoulders so it drapes well down his back. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be back in a bit. Or not.”

Kirk eyes the man—dressed as an angel, a reflection of the characteristic innocence of the holy beings in those baby blue eyes. He can’t hold himself back—he has to have him. 

As he approaches, it’s like the angel senses his presence immediately, those stunning blues locking with his dark ruby eyes. A faint blush rises on the angel’s cheeks, lips curving faintly into a shy smile. 

Kirk can’t help but notice how he’s almost trembling faintly in his pristine white outfit. He’s like a porcelain doll, so delicate, so sweet, so innocent.

Perfect prey.

His figure is sleek and lean, akin to a dancer, and he moves with a certain grace that has the vampire captivated. He’s only slightly taller than Kirk, and he’s got tufts of auburn curls messily resting on his shoulders, flowing down his back. Kinky bangs frame his captivating eyes, and the fake halo that sits amongst his curls is a shiny white. 

He’s like walking, talking temptation, and Kirk can’t stop staring. He’s so damn beautiful, his scent so very appetizing. He feels the hunger in his chest burning, but he controls it and smiles charmingly instead. 

“Hi there,” he greets the boy, his eyes wandering over the tight, silk material of his white robe, two small slits on either side of his legs for more leeway. His top is more snug, a sleeveless silk top with a banded collar and some little gold accessories to match.

The whole costume looks expensive, or took a lot of time to make at the very least. “Hi.” The man responds, friendliness clear through his toothy grin, a beer in hand.

Kirk can’t help but stare for a beat longer, taking in the pretty smile, the beautiful gleam of those eyes…and the delicate, elegant long lines of his neck. 

So slender, so inviting. 

Almost as if sensing the thought, the angel tucks his chin down, hiding his neck ever so slightly, as though shy. It’s an utterly charming gesture that only serves to fan the flames of Kirk’s desire. He swallows, snapping himself out of his thoughts and grins. 

“So, enjoying the party?”

“It’s nice…though I’m looking for my friend. He’s supposed to be here.”Kirk tilts his head to one side. “Is that so?” He asks, feigning mild interest. 

“What’s his costume?”

“He’s a ghost.”

“A ghost, huh?” 

Kirk’s eyes twinkle a bit with a hint of mischief. “And where exactly is this friend of yours? Off haunting the punch table or something?”

“Beats me.” 

The man’s phone dings, and Kirk can’t help but watch how his bangs frame his face when he cants his head. 

“Oh. My friend couldn’t make it. Great, now I’m stuck here alone.” He sounds less than thrilled, probably after having to go to such lengths to make his costume. 

“What a waste of a night.”

When the beautiful creature pouts, Kirk’s mouth dries up instantly. Christ, he’s adorable. “Hey, there’s no need to look so disappointed…” He says with a coy tone of voice, taking a few steps closer to the angel. 

“I could take you out somewhere else…” He offers tentatively. Jason’s interest piques, and he tilts his head to the side. “Like where?”

Kirk grins and takes one more step, their chests almost flush together. “The night is still young,” he purrs. “There’s so many more exciting places to go to before closing time…unless you’d rather stay at this boring party, of course.”

Jason thinks for a moment, considering his options. And his cerulean eyes lock with crimson ones, his resolve determined. 

“Where to?”

Kirk can’t help the shiver of excitement that runs down his spine. He grins, fangs gleaming in the faint light. This beautiful, sweet, gullible man was willingly walking into the jaws of a beast—a predator. 

“Follow me,” he says, almost huskily. “I know a spot.”

Jason’s holding onto Kirk’s arm as they creep through the graveyard. Kirk’s all too familiar with the place, but Jason’s like a scared little mouse.

“Are you scared?” 

Kirk purrs, a smug note audible in his tone. He can hear the rapid beating of Jason’s heart, the way his breath comes quick and shallow with nerves as they walk through the dark, silent graveyard.

“A little…” He gulps, glancing around in case anything were to jump out at them. Angels were supposed to be beacons of fearlessness, and here Jason was, shaking like a leaf, clinging to Kirk like his life depended on it.

Kirk bites his lip, holding back a chuckle. The angel was absolutely adorable when he was nervous like this. It made him seem so small and fragile, almost like a little puppy. 

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” he assures, resting a hand on Jason’s lower back and rubbing it in a comforting gesture. “You’re safe with me.”

Jason glances down in surprise when he steps on a twig, his halo falling to the ground. He lets go of the ravenette’s arm to pick it up, and when he stands back up after readjusting its position on his head, he finds himself alone. 

He glanced around once, twice, thrice, and Kirk has vanished. Fear spikes through his heart like thorns, and his big doe eyes are wide in fear. 

“Kirk?” He asks, voice so shaky, fear rolling off him in waves.

Jason’s all alone in this creepy graveyard in the middle of god knows where, it’s coming close to midnight, and he swears he’s not alone. 

Fear gripes his heart like a vice, panic settling in as he swerves left and right to try and catch a glimpse of the man. He takes a few steps forward, oh-so paranoid, watching the tombstones and the shrubbery and the forest nearby. He might just believe in the supernatural now.

“Kirk!?” 

Jason calls again, panic rising. He can feel himself trembling from fear, the silence around him suddenly deafening. “Where are you?” 

He scans the area around him, looking for clues of Kirk’s whereabouts. His heart is beating out of his chest, his muscles taut with tension as he takes a few halting steps forward, almost afraid of what he might stumble upon.

Nothing. 

Not a sound, not a glimpse of that dark hair or sharp smile, or even the flicker of that velvet cape. He’s well and truly alone now, a sitting duck in the middle of this dark and seemingly haunted place.

“Kirk..?” 

He says weakly, no conviction left in his voice. His breaths come in short puffs, vision going slightly hazy from fright.

He glances to his right at the sound of a twig snapping, whipping his head around and finding….nothing. Not a single soul. 

“Who’s there…?” 

Jason asks shakily, looking around in a frenzy for the source of the sound. His heart is beating madly out of his chest, panic clawing his throat with icy fingers.

The fright is swallowing him whole, and he can hear another twig snap closer to him, only a few feet behind him. He spins around—nothing. So he does the only thing he knows how to do. 

Run.

He takes off running with sheer panic, heart in his throat. He can’t bring himself to look back, can’t hear anything over the loud beating of his own heart and the rush of adrenaline. His mind is empty, focused only on the single goal of getting away from whoever or whatever is behind him.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, can’t see clearly in front of him, and stumbles over the uneven ground numerous times, twigs and leaves grasping at his ankles in his hurry. Adrenaline is roaring in his ears, fear driving his legs and fuelling his panic.

There’s a faint voice in the back of his mind, screaming at him to slow down before he falls and breaks his ankle—but it’s soon drowned out by the fear of being hunted or chased down. 

His breaths are harsh and ragged, lungs screaming and muscles aching with the effort to run, panic driving him on. 

He can hear footsteps behind him, heavy and loud and gaining on him fast. He can’t even see what’s after him now—his vision swimming and chest clenching from fright.

He’s in hysterics, tears muddling his vision and his breathing is erratic—his lungs burn and so do his calves, but he keeps on running. The graveyard is a maze, and he can’t seem to find the exit.

And then he falls. 

His foot tangles up with a root sticking out of the ground, and he’s sent careening to the grass. Pain blooms in his ankle at the impact, sharp and sudden, and he can’t supress a cry of pain. He tries to scrabble and crawl away as he hears those footsteps coming close—almost upon him. 

He drags himself behind a large oak tree and muffled his breathing. The footsteps stop, and they sound confused…where did he go? 

The footsteps finally fade into the night after moving around a little more, and Jason breathed the tiniest sigh of relief. He peeks out from behind the tree to catch a glimpse of whatever had been chasing him. 

Still, nothing.

Just when he thinks he’s safe, there’s an overwhelming aura emanating from behind him. His breath catches in his throat, and he’s far too scared to even turn around. He’s cornered like a dog, and he musters the courage to look behind him.

But before he can do so, a strong hand wraps around his shoulders, pulling him back against someone’s chest. Jason’s wracked with sobs. He thinks it’s all over for him, this is how he’ll die. 

“Found you.”

Kirk does feel a pang of guilt at the sight of Jason like this—scared and crying and looking at him like he’s the devil himself. But he’s starved and he’s owed a meal, but not before playing with his food a little.

Of course, this is all part of his game. He needs to get the boy scared, get his blood pumping, and draw out that sweet fear pheromone. God, he's even more beautiful when he's so utterly petrified. Still, he has to admit to himself there’s something about the angelic boy’s frazzled and hysteric state that twists something in his chest slightly. God, he's even more beautiful when he's so utterly petrified.

Jason goes completely still when he feels the arm around him, tears streaming down his face as terror seeps through his very core. He’s trembling like a leaf even as he tries to keep quiet, scared of what will happen next. 

He swallows back a sob, trying to get his breathing under control. “Please…please don’t hurt me…” He whispers out brokenly, looking up at Kirk desperately, begging for his life. 

And he looks so, so beautiful in the dim light of the night, tears marring his soft features and eyes wide like a doe’s.

Kirk almost feels bad for having to scare him so badly, but he's also starving, and the fear makes his blood pump faster and his sweet scent even more potent. It makes his fangs ache in his jaws, and it's taking all his willpower not to sink them deep into that slender, smooth neck. 

His eyes gleam sadistically, leaning down so close that his lips brush over the shell of Jason’s ear. Jason’s chest heaves, his eyes sparkling under the moonlight. His gasps stutters and his breath shudders.

Jason’s body is rigid, frozen in fear as he feels the vampire breathing in his scent, that hand on his neck doing little to quell the panic that’s coursing through him. His lips are trembling, and a wave of dread courses through him. This is it. This is the end. 

“Please, please don’t hurt me…” He whispers pleadingly, a new wave of tears leaking from his eyes.

Kirk feels a pang of guilt again, but it’s quickly overridden by hunger and need. He grins and runs the tip of his nose over the pale, slender column of Jason’s neck, breathing him in greedily. He can feel the rapid beat of his pulse as he nuzzles over the skin on his neck, just shy of touching the sensitive skin with his mouth. 

He can feel the fear coming off Jason in waves, the scent of it strong enough to leave him heady and almost drunk.

Jason’s breaths are coming in short, sharp gasps, every exhale a small whimper of fear. He can feel the press of that mouth on his skin, feel the hot wet puff of breath tickling his collarbones, and he can’t stop the tears from streaming down his face. 

“I-I’ll do anything…please—whatever you want. Just don’t hurt me. Please.” He whimpers out, tears running freely down his face. It’s so pathetically arousing to Kirk.

Kirk feels it as a shiver runs through Jason’s entire body with that utterance, and it causes a jolt of excitement and arousal through him, too. The sheer begging and pleading would’ve been enough to get him all hot and bothered alone, but the fear pheromone emanating from those words, mixed with the tears on that smooth, porcelain face, was like an electric shock to his body. 

He groans softly, unable to hold back the sound.

Jason can hear the groaned out sound from the vampire as well as feel his breath on his neck, his entire body trembling in fear, pulse racing. He closes his eyes, almost praying to whatever god is out there that he’ll get out of this alive somehow. 

He can’t stop the tremors, can’t stop the tears, and he can’t help the pitiful whimpers that escape him as he continues to cry. He knows he looks a mess right now—terrified, pathetic, hysterical…

It’s taking all of Kirk’s restraint to hold himself back. The tears, the smell, the whimpers—he’s holding back the animalistic instincts within himself in a battle of restraint. He’s not going to pounce on the beautiful boy here and now—he’s going to drag this out a bit more. 

He can’t help the way he nuzzles his face into the crook of Jason’s neck, letting out a shaky breath at how close he is to tasting this angelic creature. As much as he’d like to take him right there and then, it would be more enjoyable if Jason could derive pleasure from this too.

Jason can feel everything—the press of that mouth on his neck, the cool breath of the vampire on his heated skin, the heat from that body pressed flush against his back. And then, suddenly, he feels a sensation that makes his brain come to a screeching halt. 

He can feel the vampire’s tongue licking a slow stripe over his neck. He freezes instantly, heart in his throat, body trembling.

Jason’s reaction to that one gesture is the final nail in the coffin. 

Kirk’s restraint snaps, the desire and hunger becoming too strong to hold back. His breathing huffs out in ragged gasps, and he pushes the boy’s head to the side with his nose, baring that lovely neck even more. 

He lets his lips finally press down over the soft, sensitive skin of his neck, mouthing over it eagerly.

Jason groans, and Kirk’s free hand slides down his body, sensing his now growing arousal, and holding onto his hip with a firm grip.

Meanwhile, the angel is having a terrible time with his unwarranted arousal, how could he be getting hard when there’s someone, something, that could kill him any time?

That faint sound of pleasure from Jason sends a jolt of heat through Kirk’s body. So, the boy does want this. Interesting. He grins against the crook of his neck at the Kirk is absolutely addicted to the sounds the boy makes. 

He can’t stop himself from touching as much of that lovely skin as possible, his touches gentle as his fingers slide up the inside of Jason’s thigh. 

Kirk nips at the angel’s ear, licking softly at the skin. He can also feel his own arousal growng, pressed against the red-head’s thigh as he continues to lick and mouth at Jason’s neck. He can’t stop the soft guttural growl that comes from the back of his throat.

Jason can feel it too, digging into his leg so shamelessly. And as much as he wishes he wasn’t, his briefs started feeling tighter. This was the worst—getting hard by someone you don’t even know, in a situation that meant life or death.

He can both feel and hear the whimper that leaves Jason’s lips as he realises the boy’s growing arousal as well, and it makes his grin grow even wider. The whimper also causes him to give a hard press of his hips against the thigh, the friction making him shiver a little. 

His tongue continues to lap and lick along the sensitive skin of his neck, before he nips the skin gently, fangs just barely scraping over the surface of it.

By now, Jason’s well aware the person behind him has some sort of fangs, so it’s some sort of unnatural humanoid creature that’s marking up his neck like a lover.

Jason’s neck is absolutely bruised from the vampire’s lips and teeth, marked so pretty that there’s no doubt of what caused it. Kirk continues to mouths along his neck, moving up and biting at the skin just below the ear. The hand on the angel’s hip slides down further, the other still gripping firmly at his throat.

“You taste so good, pretty boy…” 

Kirk speaks against the skin of his neck, lips moving back and forth over the flesh. His tongue occasionally laps over the surface to gather more of that sweet taste. He loves those whimpers and soft gasps the boy’s letting out and the way he’s pushing back against him ever so slightly. 

His tongue and lips slowly move up towards the boy’s ear and he grins. 

“Just wait till I taste you elsewhere….”

A jolt of arousal runs up Jason’s spine, his cheeks flushing. Kirk thinks it’s divine intervention that Jason doesn’t recognise his voice, but then again, they’d only met that night. 

Despite the unfamiliarity, the reactions he’s getting from the angel is making it more fun by the second. The flushes across his face that he can’t tell apart from the fear, those delicious whimpers and gasps, and the hardening of his arousal against his own body. 

He decides he wants more of these reactions, so that’s where he’s going next. 

His hand on the boy’s neck slides down, fingers skimming along the buttons of his shirt and popping them open slowly, down until his sternum.

Jason shivers—this predicament he’s in is surprising, but he only wished that it wasn’t some creature that wished to fuck him.

More and more of the angel’s skin is revealed as Kirk pushes the fabric of the shirt to the side, exposing those lovely collarbones, those soft and smooth shoulders, the skin that he could just devour. 

His lips and tongue are all over that skin now, leaving behind a trail of bruising kisses and faint marks of his teeth, moving and sucking up to the boy’s ear. 

“You’re gorgeous…” He murmurs hotly, breath tickling the skin of the boy’s ear. He spots his own single crypt nearby—black delight violas pooling around the base. His plan is simple: to have Jason on top of his own coffin, on the sleek greyed marble, untarnished through the years.

He slowly maneuvers Jason back towards his own crypt, mouth continuing to bruise up the skin beneath his lips, leaving behind a pretty trail of marks that’s almost hypnotising to himself. 

His nose nudges the boy’s head to the side, exposing the crook of his neck, and Kirk can’t help it. He needs to taste this sweet skin once again, needs to taste the blood pumping right underneath the surface. 

That neck is exposed so willingly now, and Kirk runs his lips and tongue right over it again.

Jason is flipped around to face him—and the angel expects to see some horrible, ugly creature of the night, but is met by a familiar face buried in his neck…

“Kirk?”

Kirk lifts his head from Jason’s neck at that sound. He’s surprised that the boy hadn’t recognised him already.

“You…I thought you…” He’s speechless. He doesn’t know what to say. Was he supposed to be mad? That Kirk had left him and chased him around and held him hostage like it was some funny little game? Or was he supposed to be even more aroused, that the pretty Californian man had hunted him down like he was some sort of rabbit and marked him up like he owned him?

Kirk can see and hear the conflicting thoughts running through that pretty head. He can smell the confusion in the pheromones that are still being released from his body—arousal, confusion, a little bit of hurt. 

He grins at the sight, a mix of amusement and hunger, feeling a dark thrill at the way Jason looks right now beneath him. He can’t decide if it’s adorable or arousing that the boy is so confused, so conflicted. 

He’s holding Jason prisoner, pinning his slender body against the thick marbled gravestone of his very own resting place…

Kirk presses forward some more. He’s leaning forward, keeping that body pinned against the marble, watching the way Jason looks back up at him with wide eyes, full lips parted. 

“You look so beautiful like this….” He murmurs lowly, eyes running all over the slender figure, taking in every little bit of skin that’s exposed and every little mark he’s left. 

Now, Jason’s sat on the crypt, Kirk standing as he mouths desperately at his neck, tracing his lifeline with his tongue. Jason’s robes are hiked up for his legs to have more room to move, pooling around the marble like a veil. 

Despite all his questions and all, Jason can’t help but let Kirk do what he wants, clutching his costume as he groans softly, eyes screwed shut. Kirk’s free hand moves lower, under Jason’s robes to trace his thigh.

Jason’s skin is so smooth under his fingers that it has him shivering, and when that lovely moan comes out, he almost buckles at the knees. He’s never heard anything so sweet. He continues to run his tongue and lips along the boy’s neck, sucking harshly at the skin occasionally to leave behind marks of his own. His other hand is on his pale thigh, running up and down that bare skin.

Jason’s skin is addictive to the touch. It’s so soft and smooth, like supple porcelain, and Kirk absolutely craves more of it, just to explore, to devour, to claim. 

He nips at that delicious neck again, sucking at the skin roughly, and he can feel the moan of pleasure that vibrates through Jason’s body. His teeth graze over the bruised skin, just a hint of fangs in the gesture.

Then, as quick as lightning, he sinks his teeth into Jason’s jugular, and those ice blue eyes fly open. A pained cry escapes his lips, and his neck throbs. He claws at Kirk’s clothes, the sharp pain almost numbing.

When the blood hits his tongue, it’s absolutely heavenly. It’s a rush of pleasure and ecstasy and sweetness that floods through his veins, leaving him euphoric. He could get very used to how this boy tastes, how he feels and sounds and smells. He grips Jason’s thighs, keeping them open and spread to fit him between, taking more and more of the blood from his neck.

“Stop—what the hell-!” Jason tries to pull Kirk off, eyes wide in fear and betrayal. 

There is no stopping now. Jason can only watch as Kirk continues to drink and feed from his neck. But he can sense the panic and the fear and betrayal rising in Jason, and a small part of him does feel guilty for not telling the boy the truth, for leaving him in the dark like this. 

So he pulls back reluctantly, licking over the wound he’s made.

Jason’s staring at him like he’s a serial killer drenched in gore, and he feels the puncture wounds in his neck with horror. 

“You—”

The look in Jason’s eyes makes something in Kirk twinge. Those beautiful pools of blue staring at him like he’s some kind of monster. 

He is a monster, isn’t he? 

He stares back, watching those eyes widen even more at the dark stains of red on his lips and the fangs that are visible.

His breath shudders, and Jason curses himself for being so naive—who goes to a graveyard with a person they’d only met that night? 

“You’re a vampire!”

He can see the horror, the fear, and the realization in Jason’s eyes. It makes some part of him cringe, knowing this is not how he would have wanted the night to end. But there’s no denying the truth anymore, so he nods, a soft exhale escaping him. 

“…I am.” He replies quietly. Of course he is. 

He’s still standing between Jason’s legs, hands resting on the tops of his thighs, pinning him to the smooth, grey, polished surface of his resting place.

“You bit me!”

It’s a simple statement. He did bite him. 

His lips are still tinged a deep red from the boy’s blood, and there’s small drops of the liquid in the corners of his mouth. He stares back at Jason, guilt settling like ash in his lungs. 

“I did.”

“I’m going to die!” He shrieks, and Kirk thinks he’s louder than the banshees that used to be his neighbours.

There it is. The panic and the panic-induced hysterics. Jason’s going to think he’ll die and then go on a rampage. 

“No—No! You’re not going to die—I only drank a little…and besides, I’d never kill you.” Kirk reassured, and Jason can tell Kirk’s panicking a little too.

“Relax…I only drank some. You won’t die, I won’t let you. I’d never kill you…I only drink from people every once in a while, usually when I’m hungry, but you, you just taste so damn good…I couldn’t resist. But you’re fine, you’re not dead, you’re going to be okay, I’m telling you..” 

He’s rambling by now, desperately trying to keep Jason’s attention and calm him down, hands gripping at his thighs soothingly.

“You’re a vampire—you’ll drink me dry and-and leave my body here!” Jason’s making up scenarios in his mind, which in turn make him even more panicked and scared. And now the boy’s even making up scenarios in his mind. Kirk frowns, knowing it’s only making this situation even more difficult. 

So he does the only thing he really wants to do at that moment. 

Their mouths clash together, Jason’s own blood filling his mouth, coppery and tangy. Kirk is desperate, their lips moving together in a heated, passionate manner.

Jason stares at him, taken aback, but Kirk’s so tender and gentle that he almost wants to believe him. If Kirk wanted to drain him, he would’ve done so by now, right?

Kirk pulls back, leaving Jason breathless and wide-eyed and confused once again, and he leans his head forward until their foreheads are pressed together, his hands still holding softly onto the boy’s shoulders.

He can’t help the desperate plea that leaves his lips. “Please…trust me. I won’t kill you, or drain you, or anything of the sort. I swear. All I did was drink a few drops….”

Jason hesitates. He seems so genuine, and those wine red eyes look up at him pleadingly, like he was an innocent creature that just wanted a meal. Kirk can see the hesitance in Jason’s eyes, but at least there’s something other than fear in them. He gently touches the underside of the boy’s jaw, tilting his head to the side so more of that lovely neck is exposed to him once again. 

“I swear, I won’t kill you.” He repeats in that same pleading voice, hands gripping slightly tighter at his shoulders. He doesn’t want to accidentally bruise those beautiful shoulders. “I’d rather do something else to you, anyway..”

Heat floods Jason’s cheeks at the admission, and without prompt, Kirk leans in close, a hand sneaking up Jason’s thigh, creeping past his briefs. Cold hands cup Jason’s growing erection, a shudder running up the angel’s spine, a soft gasp escaping his lips. 

Having a literal vampire fondle him shouldn’t make him this aroused, but somehow it does. He’s not quite sure if it’s the fact that Kirk could kill him any second if he wanted to, or that he chooses not to, that has him so turned on.

Kirk is absolutely addicted to the sounds Jason makes. He nips at the boy’s ear, licking softly at the skin before speaking in a soft and pleading voice. 

“I want you so bad, baby…” His voice is low, breathing in Jason’s scent and licking up the blood trickling out from his wound. 

Kirk’s hand slides under Jason’s underwear to stroke softly at his hardened cock, marveling at how big it is. Jason stifles a moan, holding onto the lapels of Kirk’s cloak. He gazed at the human adoringly, like he was a prized painting in an art gallery.

He frees Jason’s shaft from its confines, shoving his robes up to gather around his hips. The vampire spat into his hand and pumped the angel’s cock with fervour, drawing a sigh from Jason. Precome pearls at his tip, leaking down the underside of his engorged dick, further helping Kirk’s hand slide up and down even faster. 

“Fuck—like that…please..” He murmurs, resting his forehead on Kirk’s shoulder, fingers digging into his cloak. Kirk’s hand moves quick, Jason’s mind spins in pleasure from the pace, praises spilling from his lips like holy words.

Leaning onto Kirk as his toes curl, Jason whimpers incessantly, quivering in the ravenette’s hand. He can feel himself drawing close, balls growing tight as his climax builds. 

He’s so, so close, and just as he’s about to hit his release, Kirk pulls away with a sly grin, leaving him high and dry.

“Wait—please..don’t stop..!” Jason whines into Kirk’s clothes, lifting his head up to meet him. His eyes are glassed over and hazy with pleasure, need welling in his powder-blue orbs. Kirk almost wants to give in, to give Jason exactly what he needs, but he restrains himself.

Instead, he pushes Jason onto his back on the crypt, his legs hanging over the edge. He kneels between his legs and tosses Jason’s briefs to the side mindlessly, focusing on the haven presented to him. 

Teasingly biting and sucking and marking up Jason’s inner thighs, Kirk lets his fangs scrape his thighs, goosebumps trailing up his skin. To his surprise, Jason mutters something so soft, he can barely hear it. 

“Speak up, darlin’, I can’t hear you.” 

“Bite me again. Please.”

He whispered it in such a needy tone, Kirk’s length jumped in his pants, straining against their confines, begging to be free and to have at Jason. He nearly gives in to Jason’s request, yearning to sink his jaws into his lovely pale flesh. 

But he had self-restraint, even in a time like this, and instead nibbles on his skin, leaving little indents of his teeth. That satisfies Jason enough, whining softly, begging for more stimulation. 

Eager to get to work to pleasuring Jason, he grips pale hips and lifts Jason’s pretty little pink pucker to mouth level, resting the crook of his knees on his shoulders. He’s buried between two muscular thighs which are trembling with anticipation, dipping his tongue into that tight wet heat, licking and sucking.

Jason grunts, Kirk’s tongue teasing around the rim, tracing the it with long, flat licks that has his cock leaking down his front. He stares up at the black sky and the stars, and he’s sure if God’s real he’d be looking back down at him disappointedly. Dressed as an angel, getting his ass eaten by a bloodsucking supernatural creature. How shameless he was, in a graveyard, a resting place for the deceased, no less.

And yet, the thrill of it all is intoxicating, getting chased around, bitten and fucking a super hot vampire. Kirk’s tongue dips deep into his hole, and it’s unnaturally long, prodding against a rubbery bump that has him crying out  unintentionally. 

“Shit—oh god..” He breathes, his leg muscles pulling taut as he stiffens in pleasure, thighs clamping around Kirk’s head. He merely hums between Jason’s legs, eating him out like a man starved. 

If this was how he’d die, Jason wouldn’t really mind it. 

The pressure in his belly builds up again, his cock pulsing. Kirk takes notice and somehow manages to speed up his movements, bringing Jason over the edge far sooner than he’d expected. 

Come spurts out of Jason’s throbbing cockhead, dribbling down his chest and dirtying his lovely silks. A skilled hand wraps around his sensitive shaft, milking him while working his fluttering hole. Jason squirms in oversensitivity, spasming around Kirk’s tongue. Cold hands knead the flesh of his ass soothingly, as if trying to ground him.

When every last drop is squeezed from the human, Kirk releases him and rests him back on the smooth marble. Jason’s chest heaves, body still coming down from the aftershocks of his orgasm. 

Kirk climbs onto the sleek crypt, admiring the sight before him. He’s a little distracted for a moment. Jason’s shirt is in disarray, sliding off his shoulders, the first three buttons of the shirt ripped open to expose miles of creamy skin. The pale flesh is littered with a trail of marks from his own lips, bruised and tender looking. His hair is in disarray, and those big doe eyes are staring up at him wide with satisfaction.

He’s absolutely mouthwatering like this.

And soon he’ll have his fill of the man, settling between those pliantly spread legs again. He drags a finger through the puddle of cum on Jason’s abdomen, tracing around his hole. Their eyes meet again, and Kirk’s carry a silent question, to which Jason responds with a bite of his lower lip.

Jason jolts as a long finger slides into his warm walls. It’s been a while since he’d fucked anyone, and it’s obvious to Kirk from how he felt like a vacuum around his finger. Kirk moved to quickly push into Jason’s tight hole, hearing him whine loudly and rock back onto his fingers.

Another finger is slipped in, pumping in and out of Jason, fingers curling and uncurling. His fingers search for Jason’s prostate again, feeling around and spreading his fingers. 

“Another.” Jason croaks out, and Kirk complies, slipping another finger past that tight ring of muscle. He sighs, letting Kirk do the work as his dick worked to half-hardness again, jolting to a near-full erection when Kirk presses down on his g-spot. 

“There?” Kirk asks simply, working his fingers over that spot in a repetitive poking motion. “Right there…” Jason breathes, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure overtakes him.

Once deemed prepared enough, Kirk pulls out his aching shaft and spits in his hand, gobs of salvia mixed with the remnants of Jason’s blood. He jerks himself off a few times, slicking himself up all while making eye contact with Jason.

Jason catches sight of Kirk’s beautifully hung length; the auburnette’s form tremors in anticipation, eager to be stuffed full like it was thanksgiving all over again. “C’mon…don’t make me wait..” He whines, arousal bleeding out into his voice. 

Kirk merely chuckles and aligns himself with Jason, giving one last glance of confirmation. 

“Please.” 

And that was all Kirk needed before he’s pushing the tip of his flush cock into Jason, ramming his whole dick into him without warning. Jason cries out at the sudden intrusion, his legs clamping around Kirk’s hips as if to still himself. 

Kirk is kind enough to let him adjust to his size, and Jason flutters around him to try and accommodate. His cold, clawed hands settle on the warm and soft flesh of Jason’s hips, which are narrow with his ilium jutting out slightly. Kirk admires how sleek the mortal’s figure is, build akin to a dancer’s, and how his crimson blood has dried around those pretty puncture wounds.

Meanwhile, Jason breathes deep. Kirk is a lot to take, and while he prides himself on being more of a size queen, Kirk’s more girthy than his previous hookups. Soon enough, he’s shifting his hips back into Kirk as he seeks more friction. 

This doesn’t go unnoticed by Kirk, who gladly starts to fuck in and out of him at a not-so-slow pace. Nonetheless, Jason’s blinded by ecstasy, his loud cries of satisfaction ringing through the graveyard. Kirk pats himself on the shoulder for finding such a secluded spot—there’s no way he’d be able to keep Jason silent if it were closer to town…

Kirk’s cockhead draws back before snapping back into Jason and ramming against his prostate, drawing choked moans from the latter. “Don’t stop—!” He cries, fingertips digging into Kirk’s shoulders. The bite of his grip only serves to get Kirk further more aroused, rutting into his partner with even more vigour.

Jason doesn’t think he’ll last long at this rate, Kirk’s cold hands roaming the exposed expanse of his body, a cheeky hand tweaking one of his nipples, pulling on it just to hear him whimper. The other moves to circle Jason’s engorged tip, spreading his precome around while dipping his thumb into his slit slightly.

Face burning, he holds onto the edges of the crypt for stability as Kirk ruthlessly pounds into him like he’s got something to prove. It’s so good that it sends shivers up his spine.

If something like this happened every year, Halloween would be his favourite holiday. Not even his birthday would beat getting fucked by a super hot vampire on a tomb in the middle of nowhere.

Kirk’s analysing Jason’s every twitch and facial expression, trying to take note of what he liked and didn’t. Sweat beads on his brow and yet his boundless stamina contributes to his lack of tiredness. 

On one hand, his stamina was perfect for pleasuring people who took a while to come. On the other, it wasn’t as good for individuals like Jason, who’s now come once already, but is still getting fucked at the same pace. 

Overstimulation starts to overtake Jason, his chest heaving as his shaft pathetically spurts any remnants of come left from his orgasm. His hole is still being used like a fucktoy for Kirk’s pleasure, and he just pathetically clenched around him. All he could do is hang on for dear life as Kirk splits him open. 

To Jase, Kirk’s not really close to reaching his climax, focused intently on the sensations of Jason around him as he tips his head forward, raven curls hanging forward, wet with sweat. 

The pleasure now borders on pain as Kirk continues to tease Jason’s energy-drained body, jerking off his dick with a talented hand. Tears spring to his eyes, and he feels sensitive to any little touches, even as he feels his third climax of the night start to build. He bites his lips, hard, eyes screwing shut. 

Jason’s third orgasm hits him hard like a ton of bricks. He whimpers pathetically, squirming in Kirk’s grip as release splatters over his chest like some sort of abstract painting. His chest heaves as he’s now shifting about in Kirk’s grip, trying to find a little relief from the constant assault on his prostate.

Kirk can just about feel his own high coming soon, looking at how messed up Jason was from him certainly brought it much closer. His hands shift to Jason’s hips, bruisingly tight, thrusting into him with reckless abandon, chasing his pleasure down like a hound. 

Weakly, Jason’s fourth orgasm comes around the same time Kirk’s does, splattering over his already ruined silks, even reaching his own chin. Kirk throws his head back, shooting his load deep into the warm confines of Jason. The latter is surprised by how much Kirk came in one go, his own dick twitching and going limp against his come-coated chest.

Jason can feel Kirk’s hot spunk leak out of his throughly loosened hole even while he’s still balls deep in him. Christ, he really was ruined, wasn’t he?

“That was amazing.” Kirk pants, lying next to Jason on his crypt. Jason’s dazed and he barely registers Kirk’s words. “Huh? Oh, yeah. It was…the best sex I’d ever had. What a way to spend Halloween.” He murmurs, glancing at Kirk, his body feeling like lead. Kirk scans his form with a soft smile.

“Let’s get you cleaned up…”

“Y’know we still have some time until the sun comes up.” Kirk grins, fangs gleaming as Jason huffs, blowing a piece of hair from his face. “What, will you burn in the sun or something?” 

Kirk merely laughs, and Jason wouldn’t mind seeing that everyday. “No, not at all. But I’d rather show you my home.” “Better not be a stupid castle or coffin.” 

Kirk rolls his eyes, but what could Jason really expect from a vampire of all things?

“Trust me, it’s a lot nicer than that. Who do you take me for?” “Nosferatu?” Jason offers. Kirk gasps in faux outrage. “Am I that ugly?” He pouts. “Certainly not.” Jason grins up at him, leaning into his cold grasp like it was the warmest place on earth. 

“Just take me to your home and bandage me up. And how do you suppose I hide the bite marks?” He hadn’t really thought of that. Neither of them had.

“Say that killer vampire stole your heart.”

“And my blood?” 

“Sure.”

“…I can work with that.”

[borninwinter81]

I've been rediscovering my love for Clive Barker this week due to finally managing to see The Ultimate Cabal Cut of Nightbreed (some kind soul has uploaded it to YouTube) and then re-reading Cabal, the book it was based on.

Cabal is amongst my favourite books ever written (though as a bibliophile that list is extremely long!) and one of my favourite movies. I originally saw it in the early 90s when I was probably far too young, and read the book not long after.

I backed the Occupy Midian campaign in 2012 when the lost footage was being searched for and reintegrated into the movie, and I attended a screening of one of the early edits where I met Nicholas Vince and Simon Bamford (Kinski and Ohnaka in Nightbreed, but better known as two of the Cenobites from Hellraiser). This led to the eventual DVD/Blu-ray release of The Directors Cut (which I got a physical copy of) and then The Ultimate Cabal Cut (which I didn’t, and which I haven't seen until now).

It's an oversimplification to call Barker's work horror, especially in Cabal/Nightbreed - this was the mistake the production company made when originally editing and marketing it.

Clive Barker's vision shows us the beauty of the weird, the macabre, the abnormal, and the supernatural, and the true horror in his work comes from the "normal".

In Cabal/Nightbreed his monsters are not evil, they're simply different - undead, mutants and supernatural beings, a metaphor for anyone who has ever felt othered by society. Midian is a place where they can live safely with no fear or judgement. The evil characters are "naturals", humans who hate and fear the monsters for being different even though they pose no threat, and ultimately try to destroy them.

As a member of the LGBT community it's easy to see where Barker's motivation for this metaphor came from, but it could equally apply to just about anyone who feels like they don't fit in. Certainly as a lonely, bullied, weird child when I first read/saw it, who then grew up into a reasonably weird adult, I'd love for the monsters to come and take me away to Midian.

Anyone seeing this who isn't familiar with the book/movie, I'd urge you to look them up, as well as others by Barker. More of my favourites by him are Imajica, Abarat and of course The Hellbound Heart, filmed as Hellraiser. The Forbidden from short story anthology The Books of Blood was also filmed as Candyman.

Below I've linked The Cabal Cut of Nightbreed. Even if you know and love the original theatrical release I'd still urge you to watch this (quick as you can in case its removed due to copyright!).

In addition to doubling the movie length from 1 hour 40 mins to 3 hours 20 mins, a number of the actors voices have been re-recorded as they were overdubbed in the theatrical version for some reason, notably those of Rachel, and Lylesberg, played by Doug Bradley. It was a crime to remove that man's beautiful voice and wonderful to hear it back where its meant to be.

Also, rather than being a standard horror movie heroine who seems to be there only to scream and be rescued, in this version Lori comes across as much stronger and more well-rounded character.

As it says in the opening text, although much of the footage was of good quality there are some sections where all they had available were degraded VHS tapes, some of which were without audio. This means the editing is also a little clunky in places. However the makers of this version wanted to include everything they possibly could in order to bring it in line with the original shooting script and Clive Barker's epic vision for the piece.

[thesylleblossom]

Echoes: Eijiro Kirishima x Reader

Summary: Sure, you may have dreamt of being a world famous hero duo with your childhood best friend Eijiro Kirishima, but those dreams are long gone. Now, you're settled into your life as a lowly office worker - not exactly glamourous, but not dangerous, either. At least, it wasn't, until a villain attack brings Kirishima back into your life. It's not enough to have to deal with decades long suppressed emotions, but the villains don't seem to want to leave you alone...

Tags/Warnings: Aged up, pro-hero AU, fem AFAB reader, neglectful parents, eventual smut (minors and ageless blogs please DNI).

Read on AO3

You could hear the explosions in the distance, but they were nothing compared to the roar of excitement that bloomed throughout the tiny cafe. Within moments of the first detonation, your routine coffee and pastry-of-the-day were the only things grounding you amongst the commotion. The trio of teenage girls you saw every morning were running to the coffee bar, demanding the barista put on the news - though if it was out of fear of being involved in the attack or the excitement of potential heroes, you weren’t entirely sure. Several other regulars nodded in agreement, and you briefly wondered whether you were better served staying in one place or risking the run back to your apartment. You clutched the warm white mug in front of you and inhaled. You stayed where you were - surely that would mean less of a chance of seeing him.

The girls squealed, grabbing your attention, and your stomach sunk. Though they drowned out any chance of hearing what the newscaster had to say, he looked entirely too cheerful in front of video footage of the battle between the villain and three heroes. Dynamight shot through the air like a bullet, his own explosions causing a smoke screen that hid the villain from view, but Chargebolt and Red Riot were visible supporting him from the ground. Debris fell from a nearby building, and the entire cafe watched in horror as it nearly took out Chargebolt, but Red Riot was there in an instant, hardening his body to act as a shield for his ally. What should have been boulders splintered against Red Riot’s quirk and shattered into pebbles, falling harmlessly around the two of them.

Pride swelled in your chest though you fought to squash it back down. He had become such a worthy and loved hero since you’d last seen him, and you had become… well, nothing of note, if you were being honest with yourself.. You had both held lofty dreams of becoming a famous heroic duo in your youth, and while he was actually making it happen - with Dynamight instead of you - you were slowly boring yourself to death in accounts payable for an overseas oil company who couldn’t even be bothered to give you recognition for a task you’d completed, let alone help with your goals for fame and fortune.

Another explosion boomed outside, closer this time. 

Shit, no, go the other way, you silently pleaded. Still they came closer, and fear spiked in your gut.

If you were going to leave, you needed to do it now.

As you stood to make a break for it, the glass windows around you shattered, screams sounding from the girls behind you. A man stood outside, a smirk on his face the only thing visible under the cliche black ski mask as he stared intently at you, and you realized in horror that you were the closest person to him in the cafe.

“Hello, beautiful,” he sneered as he stepped through the window panes toward you. Glass crunched under your feet as you realized you had instinctively taken a step backwards, and you braced yourself to run, feet spinning beneath you, but he was too quick. His hand gripped your forearm in a crushing hold, pulling you backwards, and you fell onto your bottom hard on the ground. Pain seared through your other hand as glass shards cut through the skin. “Gotcha,” he sneered, his breath hot on the back of your neck. Goosebumps broke out across your skin, and you struggled to break free from his hold.

“Let her go,” a deep voice said from behind you, and you felt your body spinning before what was happening registered in your brain. Within moments, you were face to face with your past.

“Y/N,” Eijiro said quietly. He stared wide-eyed at you, and for a moment you forgot the predicament you were in. Your mouth gaped open, wanting to say something but unable to find the words.

“Oh, goodie. You know her? Glad I picked the right hostage.” You could hear the smile in the man’s voice behind you, and the villain pulled you backwards into his body, securing his arm around your throat. “Walk away, hero, or she gets it.”

You felt a blade slide lightly across your skin, though you hadn’t noticed any weapon with him. His quirk, you assumed. 

Eijiro seemed to snap back from his shock, and raised his arms as if in surrender.

“Not very manly to take a hostage,” he goaded the villain, “Are you not strong enough to fight me on your own without some collateral?”

The blade against your throat pressed in slightly. Not enough to cut, but just enough to know Eijiro had hit a nerve.

“I’m not stupid. I’m not letting her go.”

The villain took a step backwards, dragging you with him. Eijiro moved one foot forward, and as if on instinct the villain moved the blade from you and aimed it towards the hero.

Eijiro lunged forward, one arm braced and ready to pin the villain’s blade-covered arm to the ground and away from you. With his other hand, he pulled you away from the man and shoved you behind himself, before throwing the man to the floor and pinning him there with a knee in the back.

Footsteps sounded behind you, and you feared that the villain may have had backup, but instead Chargebolt’s grinning face pulled up in front of you. 

“Are you hurt at all?” He asked you, and your breath left your body as he aimed that megawatt smile in your direction.

You shook your head. “No, no, I’m okay.”

“Good. Stay back, an ambulance is on the way to take a look at you just to be on the safe side.”

While Chargebolt had had you momentarily distracted, Eijiro had managed to completely subdue the villain, and now held his hands firmly behind his back. For a moment it looked like he was holding the man up by his arms with one hand, but surely he wasn’t that strong, right? His quirk was hardening, not super strength… and he surely couldn’t be that strong on his own, could he?

You didn’t even realize you were staring until he glanced over at you and smiled. You had thought Chargebolt was handsome, but the moment Eijiro showed you that sharp grin you’d loved so many years ago, your heart soared… before it plummeted to the pits of your stomach. Your chest constricted, a painful squeeze that brought tears to your eyes. 

Eijiro’s smile fell quickly, which seemed to tip off Chargebolt. One moment you’d been staring at your old friend, the next the blond was in your face, examining you for injuries. 

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?’ He asked, but you couldn’t muster up the words to explain.

“What did he do?” He asked gently.

Eijiro looked between you and the villain still struggling in his grip.

“Charge, take him, I’ve got this,” he said, and Chargebolt looked between the two of you, confused, for a moment, before nodding and trading you for the villain.. You watched just long enough to see Chargebolt lead the villain towards the front door before Eijiro was in your face, his brows knit together as he studied you.

You shook your head. “Nothing,” you managed to say.

Unsatisfied, he brushed a stray hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear, then seemed to realize what he had done after the fact. A blush crept across his cheeks, and he quickly pulled his hand away from you, instead rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I - uh,” he started, looking everywhere except your eyes.

You shook your head. There was no reason he needed to continue this conversation, he did his job and could now move on. Both of you could move on.

“Thank you,” you said, mustering the coldest tone you could manage. An attempt to end this incredibly awkward encounter so you could go back to your life without Kirishima Eijiro.

“No problem,” he grinned. The blush on his cheeks seemed to redden. “Would you uh, want to get a coffee sometime?” He asked sheepishly. “For old time’s sake.”

You shook your head. “It’s just really bad timing, work and everything.” You were a terrible liar, and you both knew it. His eyes shot downward, his brows scrunched as the hurt flashed across his face, and your own heart jolted in sympathy.  “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, I understand,” he smiled, though it failed to reach his eyes. “Maybe next time.”

“Yeah, next time.”

You stared awkwardly at each other for a moment, before he allowed himself to be pulled away by the gaggle of teenagers from before, who were all too excited to see the big strong heroes in person. You noticed Chargebolt had been similarly swarmed by your fellow civilians, though the few stragglers who had been around him had left in favour of running towards Dynamight who was marching angrily towards the scene. 

“Back off,” he shouted, brushing past the few people who had managed to reach him, and instead stomped towards Eijiro, who greeted him entirely too warmly for someone with the kind of scowl the blond was sporting.

You didn't have to pretend to ignore them for long, as you turned around to see two paramedics rushing towards you. They examined you and asked the same questions over and over again, and by the time you had assured them that you were unharmed - physically, at least - the heroes were already gone.

You tossed and turned in bed that night, stealing moments of unrestful sleep where you dreamt of being stuck inside of a burning building. You couldn't remember how it ended, even after waking up the third time that night from the nightmare, but a flash of bright red tugged at the corners of your memory.

You didn't have to guess to know who had come to your rescue.

By five AM, you'd given up on sleep entirely and instead got up to get ready for the day. The benefits of working for an overseas company meant you didn’t actually have to go into an office, and because of the time difference, it didn’t really matter when you did your work. At least, most of the time - meetings were generally held at two AM your time, and unfortunately management had decided that a town hall meeting was required at least once a week, which meant your sleep schedule was completely messed up, and it didn’t help that while most of the in office staff handled the phone calls, you occasionally did have to wake up at ungodly hours for a call to follow up on a cheque. 

You turned on your laptop and checked your work calendar - town hall was tonight, which meant this was going to be an extra long day. You groaned as you pulled on a hoodie that was draped across the back of your chair and started your daily tasks. Maybe if you finished them early you could sneak in a nap before you inhaled caffeine like your livelihood depended on it, because it kind of did.

An instant message chat box flashed in the corner of your screen, alerting you to a new message from Helaina, your boss and best work friend, if only because she was one of the few people in the company you actually spoke to.

From Helaina:

Well hello to our very own international woman of mystery, her message said, complete with a winking emoji.

From Y/N:

Woman of mystery?

In lieu of a written response, she sent you a link to a news article. Splashed across the front page was a picture of you and Eijiro, his hand on your cheek. Big block letters at the top read out Japanese Heartthrob Hero Red Riot Spotted with a Mystery Woman. Your heart sunk - you were only pictured in profile, but enough of your face was visible to clearly tell it was you. You skimmed the article quickly, words like “caress” and “tenderness” sticking out like sore thumbs and causing your blood pressure to skyrocket.

From Y/N:

Not enough news back home, they’ve got to dig up stories from Japan for clickbait?

From Helaina:

Emphasis on Heartthrob. He’s gorgeous, and we like to look. And it looks like you have some explaining to do.

She was never going to believe you.

From Y/N:

There was a villain attack. He rescued me. He was just checking me out for injuries, you know, like a hero is supposed to do. Nothing newsworthy, I promise.

Three little dots appeared and disappeared a few times before her reply came through. You knew her well enough to know she didn’t believe you, and was just trying to decide if she would call you out on your lie or not.

From Helaina:

Ooh I bet he was checking you out.

From Y/N: I would block you if I could.

From Helaina:But you can’t. If you ever need to be rescued again, I want details.

With that, she left you alone, though the sinking feeling in your gut told you this would not be the end. Not by a long shot.

Your fears were quickly confirmed. By the end of your workday, you'd received texts from almost everyone you knew, and some you didn't. Someone had seen the photograph on a news site and commented that they thought it was you - and gods help you, when you found out who Keroberos13 was, there would be hell to pay. You had seventeen unread messages from newspapers and TV stations asking for interviews, and you were thankful you had already set your social media to private, because the number of message requests were insane, you could only imagine if more than just a "send message" button was visible. 

You were painfully aware however that you happen to be looking off to the side in your profile picture, turning your face in the exact same angle as the image of you with Eijiro. It was painfully obvious it was you, it would be next to impossible to deny it now.

You dropped your head into your hands, and rubbed aggressively at your forehead, trying to will the budding headache away. You had long since given up your dreams of fame and fortune, and instead settled into your quiet life. While you may have basked in the attention a few years ago, you were dreading even leaving your house now. 

Your phone buzzed on the table in front of you, another unknown number on the screen. You briefly considered dropping your phone in the toilet. You watched it ring, the people pleasing part of you not wanting to let them know you were ignoring the call by sending it prematurely to voicemail. The voicemail that you already knew was full of what you imagined were more messages asking for an interview from Red Riot's newest rumoured love interest. You scoffed to yourself at the idea. Why couldn't it have been Chargebolt or Dynamight who had rescued you? Chargebolt was such a ladies man that no one would have batted an eye at another supposed paramour, and Dynamight was such a private recluse with an attitude that scared any loose tongues away. But Eijiro... everyone loved him. Everyone loved to talk about him. He wasn't the most famous of the heroes - though he wasn't far off, sitting pretty at number 6 in the hero charts, and he was easily known as the sweetest of the top ten. He had had his fair share of rumoured romances, but he'd always brushed them off. You however, were not used to the attention.

A muscle ticked in your eyelid. This was not what you had had in mind when you and Eijiro made your plans to be a famous duo as kids. You didn't even want the fame and fortune anymore. You just wanted to live your life in peace and quiet, even if you weren't entirely happy with how it was playing out lately.

You wished you had more supports to lean on. After your parents left, Eijiro and his moms became your family, at least they had until you'd had to leave. Your aunt who had taken over custody of you lived in North America, and you'd had to leave everything you knew behind to start over there. You hated your parents for leaving. You hated your aunt for taking you away. You hated - 

You were getting away from yourself again. You unfurled your fists and stretched the tension out of your fingers, shaking the energy out of your limbs. The only part of your past that mattered right now was the part that brought you into this predicament: your old friendship with Eijiro. If you hadn't known him as kids, he never would have had that reaction to you, and you could be living your daily life as you usually did. Equally miserable, but for different reasons. Instead, you were stuck in a rumour mill with your face plastered all over the world apparently. You wouldn’t have had any idea of how to get out of this situation on a good day, but when it had happened so quickly? You felt like your whole world was spinning.

Your phone buzzed again - the same number was calling. You let it go to voicemail again, but the same number dialed back immediately after. You grabbed your phone, anxiety and irritation coiling in your belly.

“What?” you asked when you answered, your tone a bit more harsh than you’d intended.

“It’s me,” Eijiro’s voice came through, “I’m sorry, I figured you might be screening your calls but your voicemail is full.”

“Yeah, I know,” you admitted. You could feel your cheeks heating at your embarrassment - you wouldn’t have barked your pathetic excuse for a greeting at him when you’d answered if you knew it was him. 

“Sorry,” you said sheepishly.

“No need. Look, at the cafe, someone saw us together and they’ve already figured out who you are, I’m sorry. They think you’re my -” He stopped himself short, as if he didn’t quite know how to say what people thought you were to him.

“I know,” you said, saving him from having to say it out loud. “I’ve had a few people asking already.”

“Eijiro, it’s fine. You were saving me, that’s all. Making sure I was okay. You were just doing your job, regardless of who I am.”

You could hear papers shuffling on his end, and he cleared his throat. “Look, I’m really sorry. I was just excited to see you again, I wasn’t thinking about the effect it would have.”

“Yeah but -”

“No buts. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He huffed out a laugh, and you couldn’t help but smile. “I know, but it’s my fault you’re being bombarded enough that you need to screen your calls.”

You couldn’t argue with that, so you stayed silent.

“My agency has a publicist, she can put out a statement, but she wants to get your okay with any information we release. Can you come down to the agency this afternoon, and we’ll figure out what to say?”

“I uh, I thought of that too. Rin says we’ll include that in the statement too, if we have to. She says we can tell people it was related to follow up from the attack. That we needed some information from you or something like that.”

Anxiety bubbled inside of you. “What if someone sees me there?” You ask before you even realize you’ve spoken.

You had a sneaking suspicion there would be no getting out of this. Better to get it over with, you thought. The sooner they released a statement that cleared you of any ties to the hero, the better. 

“Yeah, I can be there.”

“Great, I’ll text you the address.”

“Thanks. And Eijiro, just out of curiosity, how did you get my number?”

[kaedehime]

It's (Not) Like That

gojo satoru x fem! sorcerer

the first years can't tell if it's like that or not

slight references/spoilers of season 2 and the manga :)

"how do you know it's not like that?" kugisaki whispers.

"it's not." megumi replies without further explanation. "that doesn't answer my question!"

"i always thought they were together because of how much he talks about her." itadori sighs as he observes you from afar, "gojo sensei is going to die alone at this rate."

"please don't say that." megumi grumbles. "that would only motivate him to spend the rest of his senile days bothering us."

"that's bold coming from a fellow single person." kugisaki coughs. "they're almost always together! how can they not have any romantic feelings for one another?"

"I didn't say they didn't have romantic feelings for one another."

the first years watch as you and gojo sit under a tree sifting through paperwork. well, you diligently read through important reports while gojo scarfed down his second crepe from takeshita street and "supervised" -as he liked to call it- your work. he was nice enough to offer you a bite every so often. "we're going to need to work on their stealth." you mumbled, not looking up from your work. "those kids really think we can't see yuji's red hood sticking out amongst the bushes."

"too bad we don't have super hearing. wonder what they're up to." gojo licked the remaining chocolate syrup off his fingers.

you tidy up the papers in your lap and stand up. "beats me. did you give them one of your impossible missions again?"

"nothing is impossible for me." gojo winks. "just like how i'm impossibly handsome and irresistible."

"i'm going home." you deadpan. you begin to turn on your heels when you feel a tug on your sleeve. you narrow your eyes at gojo, you already knew what he was going to ask. "no."

"i didn't say anything!" gojo sputters.

you don't hesitate to roll your eyes, "i'm not in the mood for going out."

the 190cm beanstalk would look more intimidating standing up if it wasn't for the deep pout gracing his features. "but the new wormo man movie came out and i need someone to see it with me!" you could've sworn the pout got deeper.

"I told you all, it's Human Earthworm 4!" an indignant voice shouts. gojo feels the smile on his lips grow at the sound of your quiet giggle. he loves the sound of your laugh. you motion the first years to come over. you note the prominent vein popping out of kugisaki's forehead due to itadori's untimely outburst. megumi sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

"having fun eavesdropping?" you raise an eyebrow.

"are you two-" itadori heaves and nearly doubles over from the force of kugisaki's elbow in his ribs. megumi avoids eye contact, embarrassed to be standing next to the other two first years.

kugisaki promptly interrupts, "of course it's like that. don't listen to fushiguro."

"it's not like that." megumi insists.

"what is not like that?" your brows furrow.

"kugisaki thinks you and gojo sensei are dating."

chaos ensues as the trio argue amongst one another. kugisaki starts firing off every single "romantic" encounter the three of them have witnessed between you and gojo. megumi can barely get a word in with itadori sprouting interjections of "huh" and "seriously?" you blink a few times before feeling the blush creeping up your neck. it's your turn to avoid eye contact with everyone when gojo enthusiastically wraps an arm around your shoulders and plants a wet kiss on your cheek. megumi's eyes couldn't have rolled harder. kugisaki and itadori's mixed screams of surprise and horror nearly overshadow gojo's next sentence:

"we're married."

my first post, look away

[daboyau]

Two options!

“You were my brother. Now I don’t think we’re even friends.”

“Of course I love you! I always have, always will. There’s a lot to love.”

So funny enough I actually wrote almost 1000 words of angst for that second one, decided I didn’t like it, scrapped it, and then came up with a different idea I haven’t written out yet. I will finish and post that one at a later date. Here, have a silly one instead of an angsty one.

@boots-with-the-fur-club

The living room is in shambles. The couch had been overturned at some point, and pillows and blankets dot the room like bodies scattered across a battlefield. Leo kneels amongst the carnage, head hanging low, fists trembling as he braces himself against the cold concrete floor. His breath hitches as he hears Mikey laugh, low and cruel and full of the satisfaction of victory. Leo shakes his head, throat tight as he forces himself to face the betrayal that will shatter him. 

Mikey’s eyes shine bright in the flickering, artificial light. His smile stretches too wide, flashing teeth flecked with red. Leo shudders, breath catching in his throat. 

“Mikey…why?” he breathes, limbs trembling as he forces himself to stand, rising slowly to his full height. Mikey seems unconcerned, head tipping back to keep his eyes trained unerringly on Leo’s own. Meeting the stunned, hurt gaze with a smug expression of his own. For one terrible, heart wrenching second, Leo wonders if he ever knew his baby brother at all. Though it hurts, he forces himself to say, “You were my brother. Now, I don’t think we’re even friends.” 

Mikey barks a laugh, sharp and cruel. He shakes his head, though those bright eyes never leave Leo’s face. His voice is low and serious as he says, “Bonds mean nothing in the face of survival.”

Leo makes a small, hurt noise. For the briefest second, he sees a flash of the brother he once knew. Someone kind. Generous. Sweet. Someone he had trusted. 

“Leo,” Mikey begins, cracking first, just like he knew he would. That single brief flicker of uncertainty is all it takes for him to lower his guard. Leo strikes out, moving lightning quick, snatching the box of takeout from Mikey’s hands before darting backwards out of arms’ reach. Mikey squawks, hands reaching uselessly out to try to catch him, but he’s no match for a slider’s speed! Leo crows his triumph, rushing to crouch behind the flipped sofa, shoveling as much orange chicken into his mouth as he can manage in the scant seconds before Mikey is on him again and the fight for food begins all over. 

Mikey is halfway through destroying Leo’s temporary cover when a sound stops them cold, both boys freezing in place in abject horror. Leo’s cheeks bulge, but the looming threat of doom keeps him from swallowing. Mikey’s arms tremble from the strain of keeping the sofa hoisted above his head, but he dares not move, stuck like a rabbit hoping that if he freezes then the hawk will not descend to pluck him up into its terrible talons. All they can do is pray that their misdeeds will go unnoticed.

There is no god smiling down upon them today. 

“Boys!” Splinter roars as he takes in the state of the living room he had left only long enough to get a snack from the kitchen. “Which of you moved my chair and movie projector?!”

“He did!” they chorus as one, and without waiting for a response, they both run from the impending dressing down that is sure to follow. Splinter watches their retreating shells and chuckles to himself, grabbing the abandoned leftovers and settling into his chair to enjoy his meal. 

[thorns-and-rosewings]

Wow... We've reached part 6 of this thing, the Reaper King AU 💀. I will be honest, this is the most I have written in years... Writing used to be the one thing I couldn't stop myself from doing... but... Somewhere along the lines I lost my passion for it. This is the first time in AGES I have had so much fun doing the thing that I love. And I gotta say I hope y'all are enjoying reading this half as much as I enjoy writing it :)

TW: As per usual, this touches on some darker topics. So you've been warned.

Part 6

-It takes KC a while to truly figure out how to use the App properly... But he gets the hang of it eventually.

-Although he does get a few more 'Old Man' jokes from Bloodmoon as he's figuring it out.

-The fact that he's a robot having trouble figuring out a dating app is not even acknowledged though.

-The conversations between KC and the Ranger, whose name is Harper (Yes, I have finally figured out their name and their a very tomboyish young woman in her early 30s with brown hair and emerald green eyes.) are very casual and friendly. Mostly talking about shared interests.

...Movies...

-The Friday the 13th movies are underrated along with the Nightmare on Elm St series. The original Jurassic Park movies are timeless. Godzilla movies are wonderful and best enjoyed in a large screen setting like with a projector or at a drive in.

-And to this day no one has a clue what the hell was up with Halloween 3.

KC: Honestly some of the B rated horror movies are better than the big budget movies nowadays... More entertaining.

Harper: Preaching to the choir, completely agree :)

...Pets...

Harper: I'm a dog person, I had a husky up until recently... Sadly she passed and I just haven't had the heart to get a new one yet. Not to mention my job; I would have to get a pretty well behaved dog to have it out here.

KC: I have one dog (Petting Muerte, the Moon Wolf alpha) but I take care of a lot of others... My eldest has a dog as well.

...he watches as Bloodmoon is having a full tug-of-war with a bone in his mouth with the two headed/deformed wolf that he has named HunterKiller...

KC: Completely reflects how he is as a person...

...Hobbies...

-As it turns out Harper has a love for legends, myths and all sorts of tall tales especially stories about cryptids. She's obviously extremely outdoorsy and would rather spend her life hiking the trails than sitting in front of a computer screen. The pay for working at the park she is currently working in is also really good... Probably because they can't seem to keep employees long term.

KC: Aren't you scared? There's a lot of disappearances in this area...

Harper: I am not gonna lie, I have... Seen some stuff. In the mists. I think... Eh, you probably won't believe me.

KC: You would be very surprised what I would believe.

Harper: I... I... think I encountered some of the forests cryptids once. I was out hiking and... Just these two forms amongst all that mist. I just froze... Then backed away and ran.

KC: I believe you. Strange things live out here... Were you afraid?

Harper: Well yeah... But... I always kinda had the theory that if you were respectful and left the cryptids alone... They'd leave you alone. I saw them, or at least thought I did, and I backed up and left the area. In kind of a hurry I admit... But I am not one of those people who go out looking for trouble. And judging by the fact that I am still alive, I think that theory might hold water.

KC: That's a good philosophy... I don't think it's completely accurate. But a very decent way of looking at things.

Harper: What's your theory?

KC: That it's nothing personal.

Harper: ?

KC: These cryptids hunt and kill indiscriminately. It's nothing personal to them. It's like a wolf hunting a deer... Maybe they have some scruples about what they hunt, but whatever they do kill... it's nothing personal. Respecting their domain won't always save you, but you'll probably live longer than most.

Harper: ...

KC: ?

Harper: And that is why I would rather deal with cryptids, monsters and legends than live in a concrete jungle amongst other humans any day.

-That one made Killcode smile.

...Family...

KC: I have a big family, all adopted and brought together by odd circumstances... My eldest is a young adult. My second eldest is a young teenager and it shocks me how mature he is. As he's definitely more mature than his older brother. Then my first daughter, she's growing so fast. She's so protective of her siblings and even me. Then there's my twin boys, who are a pair of mischievous little gremlins. Then there my four year old, she's very shy. Clings to my eldest like glue, which is surprising because he can be abrasive. And then there's my youngest, only a few months old now. But I can already tell she's going to be an energetic little hellion when she gets older. I love them all so much ♥️

Harper: Wow

KC: Is there a problem?

Harper: No no, just... Are they okay with you dating? I know sometimes kids don't like their parents dating. I don't want to upset your family.

KC: Actually they set this account up for me.

Harper: Oh ok. But based on your description they sound wonderful

KC: Do you have any family?

Harper: ...not really, I was an only child. My parents passed away in a car accident. No aunt's, uncle's, cousins or anything. I'm just kinda here by myself. Some friends actually made this account for me as a joke about a month ago. And... You're the only person who has had any interest in talking to me here. I was thinking about deleting this thing just before you started talking with me.

KC: Funny how the world works.

Harper: Is it nice?

KC: What?

Harper: Having a big family like that?

KC: It's the greatest joy in my life. There are times we disagree and argue, yes. But being surrounded by the ones you love the most and who love you back... There's nothing comparable.

Harper: Sounds lovely

-They talk back and forth like this for a few weeks. Before they finally opt to meet and go on a date.

...the date...

Upon KC's suggestion they are going to go on a hike on one of the shorter, but still challenging trails. One of Harper's favorites. He states that he'll be bringing her a red rose, so she will know who he is. She stated he didn't need too, but KC insisted. Harper actually gets to the beginning of this trail a little early and is quite nervous... Will they get along well in person? Will he like her?

...she didn't notice the approach of the towering 9ft tall creature garbed in a cloak, with a large glowing red core upon his chest until he was standing right next to her... She turns to see Killcode right next to her, but before she can do anything at all-

He holds out a single red rose. 🌹

There was a moment where the proverbial hamster fell off the wheel in Harper's head... But after a long moment everything finally caught up with her and she realized exactly what was going on.

Harper: Oh um... Hi...K...C?

Killcode: (Awkward smile)

They begin that hike... At first things are a bit tense and more than a little awkward. But they do begin talking, KC assuring Harper this isn't a trick or trap or anything... Harper asks a few questions of her own. But things become less tense. After a bit, things gradually go from being tense to calm, to friendly... And about an hour into the hike they are conversing like friends.

By the time they reach the halfway point of the hike, the moon has risen into the sky and any lingering awkwardness has completely evaporated and they stop and just look at the nights sky.

Harper states this is the best date she's ever been on...

KC points out that this is the only date he's ever been on...

They both laugh. Although KC starts to turn his gaze towards the forest more and more as they continue on the second half of the trail... Until he finally stops and crosses his arms. Looking at something that Harper cannot see.

KC: Young lady... Is there a reason you're following us?

...wordlessly Wisp emerges from the forest, bathing the entire area in a soft blue glow. Harper cannot help but stare at the little girl that is made of flames before her. She floats up and sits in KC's arms, allowing him and Harper to see the thing on her neck.

Harper: Is that... Is that one of those little cameras people put on their cats?

KC: (Gets horrified) Bloodmoon did you put a cat spy camera on your little sister?!

(Elsewhere Bloodmoon and the others slam the laptop closed)

...It wasn't until just before sunrise, after Harper had finally finished cleaning up the station that it really dawned on her at that moment that she is now dating one of the most feared local cryptids.

Harper found the situation both adorable and hilarious... And she admittedly was trying to avoid laughing too hard at the sight. But Wisp looked Harper up and down before moving in close and whispering to her father.

Wisp: I like her. She has a kind heart.

The girl then disappeared back into the forests from whence she came... While KC muttered about how Bloodmoon was going to be in sooo much trouble when he got home.

Rather than their date simply ending at the end of the trail, Killcode actually accompanies Harper back to the Ranger Station... Which was beneficial because much to Harper's dismay, those racoons had returned and had promptly locked her out of the cabin again. And the sounds of chittering and ransacking of the fridge can be heard even from outside.

Harper: (Growls) Evil little trash pandas...

KC: Maybe I can be of some assistance here?

Harper: If you wanna try, but they're tricky little things... The last time they locked me out I had to sleep in my Jeep. This time I am just going to go get the ladder and get in through the upstairs window... Which I started to leave open delibrately to handle these raccoon invasions.

Killcode says nothing as he walks towards the door and actually phases through it... Everything grows eerily still for a moment, before the loud, booming voice of Killcode echoes through the area like cannon fire.

KC: GET OUT!!!!!!!

Immediately the door flies open and at least a dozen raccoons run out... With their high pitched and fearful chittering sounding far more human than Harper can recall hearing before... Hell she swore she heard something along the lines of 'How were we supposed to know she was the mate of the Reaper King?!'

...yeah she's thinking too far into it...

Still KC just calmly unlocked the front door and walked outside. Expressing that he had a wonderful time tonight and would love to do this again. Something Harper happily agrees too...

They make plans to meet up again in the coming days. Before KC bids her good night and he retreats back into the forest so quickly that he just seemed to vanish...

...and she is perfectly fine with it :)

[siberat]

what Did I Do?

Little quick Drabble for my buddy! B.lastoff / on.slaught. Angst, binge eating…. Belching….

No sooner did the shared habsuit door close did he let out a quivering sigh. Just what had possessed him to do what he had done? Did he lose his mind? Heaving deep breaths, Bla/st O/ff peeled himself from leaning against the door and smacked his servo on his helm.

“Stupid…. Stupid…. Stupid!” Each word was followed by hitting himself on the helm as he paced around his room. His frame still tingled with the dread of realizing the severity of what he had done.

And just what did he do?

He performed a cardinal sin amongst the Decep/ticons: he honestly spilled his feelings in a silly little love note to his crush. And he gave it to said crush.

So, when he was called into his boss’s office, one of two things would happen: On/slaught would finally acknowledge him and return the feelings… or On/slaught would finally acknowledge him and humiliate him for being so foolish.

It turns out neither of those options happened. As Bla/st O/ff sat in the chair, he noticed his stupid, school-girl love note had fallen to the ground. His spark froze in his chest: his crush didn’t read it! Biting his lip, he wondered if he could snatch the incriminating evidence and save his face.

Sadly, On/slaught discovered the note, stopped rambling about battle plans (for once), and bent down to pick it up.

And much to the subordinate’s horror, he unfolded the note and read it—yup, right in front of him.

Talk about sweating bullets! His stomach churned as his frame warmed. His fingers idly fidgeted as he squirmed in his seat. Naturally, the Lead Combat/icon’s expression was unreadable, so he had no clue how his love/boss felt.

Until the note was lowered. And On/slaught stared into Bla/st O/ff’s optics blankly.

And this moment of silence was deafening. It was quieter than being in deep space. It felt like hours had passed, and he could not pull his fearful stare from the blue mech.

But being the coward he was, Bla/st O/ff stuttered, apologizing profusely as he bolted out the meeting room door. Yes, On/slaught called after him, but he couldn’t muster the courage or strength to obey. Instead, he ran back to his small habsuit, tears sliding down his reddening face.

This leads him to where he is currently: pacing his room and biting at his fingertips. Just what did he get himself into? And how could he get himself out of this?

He couldn’t remain still. He needed to do something before the repetitive self-destructive thoughts took over. Sadly, he suffered bouts of this and gave in to old habits. He snagged a bunch of snacks from the shared kitchen—more than his fair share—and retreated to his personal sleeping quarters.

He sat upon his berth, replaying the humiliating scene repeatedly in his processor as he mindlessly opened boxes of sweets and freed them from the plastic wrappers. As soon as that sweetness filled his mouth, he felt a smidge better. The moist, cream-filled cake lit his taste receptors, causing them to dance with joy.

Primus, junk food always hits the spot when feeling down!

As soon as one little calcium cake was finished, fingertips were sucked clean, and another was pulled from the box. Bla/st O/ff cooed with each bite, optics slitting to half-moons as each treat was greedily devoured. Each swallow brought happiness to replace the fear. Each new cake unwrapped promised the excitement of such a pleasurable experience. Each time his maws sunk in, squishing pink cream around his lips, the ‘Co/n felt like he was in some kind of utopia.

This abruptly ended with his servo reaching into an empty box. The family-sized treats, which had previously been unopened, didn’t last very long. Licking his lips, Bla/st O/ff sighed and discarded the empty box. Thankfully, there was plenty more to choose from.

Box after box, the Cyber/tonian treats were devoured. While the pace slowed down, the shuttle continued to engorge himself on this unhealthy feast. His belly soon swelled, grumbling with being stuffed so full. Upon a painful spasm, Bla/st O/ff grimaced and rubbed a servo over the massive ball that sat upon his lap.

“Primus,” The Co/n stared at the aftermath of his binge. “I really overdid it this time…” Glancing around, he saw the evidence of his raid. Empty boxes and wrappers littered his berth and floor. His gestalt mates would surely be mad!

His belly gave a clench, and its owner whimpered. Pressure was building up just below his chest despite the rubbing. His abdomen felt extremely bloated as tightness kicked in. Suddenly, a loud gurgling noise trembled through his tummy. Bla/st O/ff clenched his optics shut as fingers desperately worked to soothe this angry beast!

“Ah….” Bla/st O/ff whined, feeling as if there was something stuck in his pipes. It slowly bubbled upwards, and no amount of swallowing could halt its progress. Unable to contain this anymore, a loud, echoing belch erupted.

“Bwwwoooorrrrrruuuuuggggghhhhhhhpppp!”

Prim/us, how undignified! However, his stomach felt better as it rumbled on his lap. He sighed, leaning back to relax before he had to clean up his room.

“Excuse you.” A voice called out, snapping the shuttle from his blissful state.

Bla/st O/ff, whipping his helm around, discovered On/slaught standing in his doorframe, staring at him.

Oh dear Prim/us, could this day get any worse? He tucked over himself, attempting to hide his gut from the other’s view. “O…On/slaught…. I…..” Dang, tears welled up in his optics as he felt his cheeks grow hot. “What…I… I’m so-“

The leader of the gestalt held up his hand, beckoning silence. His other hand raised, revealing a clear plastic container holding a geode-cheese cake. “I…thought you might like something sweet…”

Was that a hint of a smile appearing on On/slaught’s faceplates

[dietleucine]

Happy Huggaween everyone!! Ok ok I don't have any art for the occasion BUUUT here's something I've been thinking about  .. Rc9gn horror comedy .. ok ok

Rc9gn au where Randy and Howard go to Norrisville High, an abandoned school, because they're looking for Heidi who went over there for a vlog (ig)? But wait- here's the kicker, the school has .. omigosh no.. killer students in it! No way! If you haven't already noticed this is satirical because I love the idea of those two shoobs casually walking around an abandoned school with murderous students in them, and treating it like some sort of haunted house attraction.

Basically the two of them venture throughout the school and they bump into some of the "students" there. The latter of course actively tries to kill them.. but Randy and Howard think they're just actors. Eventually they get everyone against them and it's a "Who can kill those shoobs first" scenario where they fight amongst themselves to kill Randy and Howard.

How did the school even become abandoned? Nobody knows it just happened one day. McFist cut off all the funding and the staff was like "Ok bye" and the students were just.. left there. A typical day at Norrisville High, really. Randy and Howard's parents pulled them out when it happened and sent them to Flackville, and then Flackville became the most popular school. The remaining students felt betrayed! Absolutely betrayed! So now.. they roam the school.. and it's said whoever enters.. never comes out..

The weapons of choice for the students are like. Apart of their whole shtick. Like Bucky's would be his triangle.. which got turned into a straight angle, Theresa's is her baton, Doug (yes the Doug) is .. a test booklet, and so on so forth.

Eventually the two of them find Heidi, but like.. she was never in any danger. She's there having a conversation with Morgan and scolds both Randy and Howard for getting themselves into trouble. It ends off with the three of them exiting the school leaving the students inhabiting the school confused.

i was giggling the whole time I was writing this .. i hope everyone has a happy huggaween!! and if you don't celebrate it, i hope you have a wonderful day today!!

[oswinsdolma]

iejust saw a post by @emrys-merlin aboit the scene where merlin summons the butterflies in s5 but i didn't want to hijack so i'm here

there is something so fucked up about how, in that moment, when he could have done anything, merlin summons not just beauty, but butterflies. butterflies who live as larvae and caterpillars, only to cocoon themselves before they emerge, metamorphosed into something fleeting and beautiful. because that, i think, is what merlin wanted to be. the incubation of destiny had been stretched so far, he was dying for the final act, for the deliverance of that destiny that had remained a constant hypothetical at the end of the line. and it's because this scene is so full of hope, not for destiny, but for humanity.

do you know how long butterflies live? it varies between species but on average, few tend to live longer than a month. when we look at butterflies, we are struck by their intense beauty and grace, but if you think about that, it's all over before it began, all those weeks, in some cases years, of living as half formed versions of themselves thrown away for a brief flash of life before it ends. when merlin summons the butterflies in the cave, you could argue it foreshadows the final episode, that brief moment of acceptance, blooming bright and the culmination of everything that has ever happened between them, but all of this is painfully eclipsed by the shadows of mortality. all of that build up little more than tragic beauty.

but there's more than that, because there's more to the story than that. arthur dies, but merlin lives, perpetuating their story through the ages and watching as his friends turn from memory to legend. then there is gwen, who takes arthur's foundation and keeps camelot alive. and from this perspective, the butterflies seem less tragic than just quietly sad. because a butterfly's strange, wretched existence is one thing merlin will never have. he wants it so badly, to once again have a soul that was human, finite and wonderful, but he cannot. the destiny he wanted most for himself was the one he could never have. and i think this represents the quintessential dilemma of merlin: he constantly treads this dichotomous line of who he is and who he should be, never quite able to make a choice between the two. his humanity is intrinsically linked with his destiny in that he needs it to care about arthur, but it is also what prevents him from seeing the larger picture. he is constantly poised between longing for mortality and duty to stay, and he envies the beauty of the butterflies, freed from destiny and alight from being alive. and in that moment in the cave, maybe the release of those butterflies is the release of a final dream, an elegy to a future that was and a duty ignited once again. it's a choice of who, and what, he intends to be.

it's easy to forget, amongst all that though, that while we can read the butterflies as a literary device, to merlin, they are just hope. something lovely borne from the monstrosities of the world. and of course there is something deeply pongiant about the way he does this, an expression of that humanity within, but i think that to himself, the butterflies are almost a promise. his future may be endless and futile, his destiny doomed and eternal, but there is something so powerful in his refusal to forget the memory of mortal beauty, to look at the patterns of the wings on a butterfly and see in its soul a reflection of your own. because the cave is, essentially, a metamorphosis, but not in the way he hoped it would be, his destiny not a brilliance of life, but an eternal vigil. though there is no degree of denial anymore, what the butterflies represent here is defiance. defiance in the face of horror and death, and a promise of vibrant beauty despite the listlessness of an eternal life. the butterflies are his memories, tinged by their finity but beautiful in what they were, and that will never go away. in the end, merlin doesn't put his feet down on the side of humanity or fate, beauty or death, but marries the two with his hope. a fragile butterfly borne from miracles into a new age.

[filmsthatdonotexist]

Most film buffs know that; at a certain point in cinematic history; whenever a film of note came from the US, it was only a matter of time before some variety of insane Italian director would create an unauthorized ripoff of or sequel to it.

Such was the case too with the Scorcese-produced* recently-rediscovered cult-classic Goncharov. Ironically, despite its reputation for controversy in the country, Italy was one of the few places where Goncharov got any decently consistent distribution, due to a sequence of events too stupid to list here.

In fact, most bootleg copies circulating in cinephile circles before recent events were taken from fan-subtitled Italian VHS copies, which is where the rumors of it originally being shot in Italian came from if you wondered about that.

But, that circulation was a cult film even amongst cult films, and if you were in horror circles of a certain generation, bringing up "Goncharov" would have elicited a response of "Oh, you mean that insane zombie mafia movie?"

But no dear readers, that would be Goncharov Part II, the bizarre unauthorized Italian sequel to the first movie....

...Well, semi-unauthorized. The technicalities of international distribution/adaptation rights are stupid like that. And yet it still got better distribution than actual-Goncharov for decades.

The plot is very simple, two women, implied to be trying to leave a Mafia life behind, end up in the middle of a zombie gang war between the entire deceased cast (So, basically, the entire cast) of Goncharov.

The first thing will notice is the fact that this is significantly more action-packed than the often slow; talk-y original. if there is anything you can call this movie, it is not slow, it just gets going and refuses to stop.

Which would probably register as strange to those who know B-movies, because of how many of those tend to be just talking between characters we don't care about in between the moments of batshit insanity as a pragmatic measure to save on budget. They could have easily stayed true to the original by doing just that.

But, if there's anything to be said about this film (And a few others') mysterious director Cero Boyardi (A screen name), he seemed very passionate about this project and wanted to put his whole ass into it. (Literally, if the rumors about him being a very specific extra in the massacre scene are true)

And he was at least... 80% of the way to understanding the original film's themes, with things such as the scene where a clock tower is blown up (Despite one never appearing in the first movie), the food fight at the fruit vendors' and; of course; what is almost certainly the first gay zombie kiss in film history.

And even beyond those shoutouts there are hints of theme in the two female leads ending up heavily implied to be lovers at the end and their ultimately successful quest to break free of the cycle of violence and the self-destructiveness of the zombies.

But these are drowned out by the sheer madness of the events onscreen. But then again, boy oh boy what madness.

Not only do these zombies, as you can guess by the poster, have the intelligence to wield firearms and strategize, but they have a host of bizarre abilities, from the simple act of breathing gouts of toxic gas to seemingly warping streets into pocket gang-war dimensions if there are enough of them.

But, even beyond the zombies there are echoes of Bava/Argento-esque insanity, such as the Magician With The Golden Gun (A none-too-subtle reference to a recent film) who gives our protagonists the weapons they need to beat the zombies or the sewer... thing with a camera as part of its anatomy that seemingly produced the zombie plague to begin with.

This is a love it or hate it film for most fans of the original, who are divided on whether it is a kistchy mess or a kistchy mess that's a lot of fun with its heart in the right place, but for horror fans unacquainted with the classic original (IE, most horror fans until recently,) it is a blast that should bring joy to you in the same way Super Inframan did to Roger Ebert.

As a final note, the American dub of this film is also where the infamous "It's Gonchin' Time" line that came to be associated with the original actually came from.

The origin is quite simple, most dubbers for films of this... type back in this era really; really did not care about the films they were dubbing, and often tended to add jokes or even ad-lib.

And so, some nerd (I cannot remember his name, tho I do recall an interview recently I need to dig up) basically decided to make a pithy Ben Grimm reference in the recording booth. And thusly a stupid; stupid forced meme was born...

*Note that Scorcese's role in the production is highly disputed, so I figured it best to stay out of it, though my mind tends to lean towards the "involved enough to be considered co-director" in reasons I will not elaborate on here, for fear of starting yet another stupid fight.

[romaritimeharbor]

On the top of Lan, I believe The Hunt is meant to act as a sort of... "filtration system", a means of making sure that things with the Abundance. Because take this into account, data entries seems to imply that Yaoshi is quite "charitable" when it comes to who they gift immortality upon. Obviously, not everyone is a paragon of virtue, so obviously there will be those who utilize their newfound eternal life for nefarious purpose, and so there needs to be something to counteract this sort issue. I have a theory that the Destruction was originally meant to act as a foil to keep the Propagation in check. Like, the timeline of when the Aeons all ascended is rather vague and a bit convoluted. But we know these things for certain:

Lan ascended a good amount of time after Yaoshi, sort of in response to the chaos weaved amongst the Xianzhou by the Mara.

And

Though they ascended within a very close period time, we know that Nanook ascended after Tayzzyronth. And they ascended because of the destruction of Advilun, their homeworld, at the hands of Tayzzyronth's own creation(s?): the Swarm disaster.

There's just one big difference between these two though. Yaoshi still exists, and eternally they are pursued by Lan yet, purging the horrors they (intentionally or unintentionally) leave in their wake. Tayzzyronth meanwhile was only an Aeon for a short time, until they were eventually cornered and brought down through the combined efforts of several other aeons. Now, the Swarm lacks any true cohesion it once had. And Nanook, now without the thing they were meant to counteract, terrorizes the universe, causing wanton destruction where ever they go.

Ooooh, Toast's OC planet idea is quite fascinating. I could definitely see Dan Heng's own biases regarding the Abundance (for some reason I nearly said "the Abyss" 💀), especially considering how his home... uh.... world? Ship? Was nearly destroyed when the power of the Abundance was used to revive an Emanator... well he's gonna be kinda... tense, don't'cha think? You (I refer to Toast) seem like you had a lotta fun coming up with this! And I can 100% relate (I've got couple of my own HSR planets :D. It's actually a super fun to work on!)

Oh, and one other thing!

Found this really cute video of someone animating that one scene with Shenhe during the Xianyun Companion Quest!

https://youtu.be/SACBEmxlV6w?si=mDp30XzcXZgnD5UF

that is very much true! as much as i bully lan, i know very well the purpose that they serve, the purpose their path serves, and i know their existence is.... existing to keep yaoshi in check. if they didn't, the universe would be crazy overrun by their creations. yaoshi is implied to be very. Uh. WILLING to throw around their blessings (which is so funny. this eldritch ass god is just like "you get immortality, you get immortality, everyone gets immortality!!!!!!" i love them). so lan's existence is pretty crucial in maintaining SOME kind of balance.

the destruction ascending to keep the propagation in check is SUCH a fascinating idea. we do, of course, know that nanook is the most recently ascended of the aeons, but we have NOOOO idea what "recently" means. it stands to reason, then, that nanook very well could have ascended to keep the propagation (I CAN'T SPELL THEIR NAME..........) in check. but of course, the other aeons took that matter into their own hands. something similar would probably happen to lan too if the other aeons... erm. Removed yaoshi. but they haven't, presumably because yaoshi does not misbehave THAT severely, and there is someone actively keeping them and their creations in check. anyways, assuming that nanook's purpose WAS that, then it sort of makes sense why they're just.... destroying senselessly now. but i can't help but wonder if a similar situation, like what happened with the propagation, will occur with them? when is it too much? when will, when might nanook become to great a risk to the universe? is there anything keeping them in check? we could say yaoshi, but we don't know enough about them to make that claim. they seem to live largely by their own agenda.

OWWWJSJSHSJSH I LOVE THAT SCENE!!!!! SHE IS SUCH AN EMOTIONAL MOTHER!!!!!

[kenobster]

For ao3 wrapped: 17 & 18!

From AO3 Wrapped [Writers' Edition]

Thank you very much friendo!

#17. Your favorite character to write this year?

Hate to be a cliche of myself, but definitely Anakin! I really never expected to enjoy his POV as much as I have. In fact, at the time of starting the fic, I really wanted to write in Obi-Wan's POV! But I decided that Anakin's POV would be the easiest in the situation because Anakin is the one with the most room to grow in that story (meaning both in the post-Miraj/Hardeen way and the pre-Sithling sort of way lmao). After reading a lot of Husborth's fic at the time, I also kinda wanted to play with a style that was driven by memories of past trauma. Not in flashbacks but in trivial references that were constantly being caused by whatever setting he found himself in. Like, sort of a constant struggle to separate the horrors of the past from the horrors of the present. (Which, sidenote, also happens to be why I chose present tense - present tense is definitely what I'm most comfortable in, but it was a very deliberate choice in this fic. :D) And Anakin's past (re Tatooine, Miraj, and Hardeen plus him being so angry about the injustices of it all worked for that better than Obi-Wan's would have).

What came as the biggest shock (and joy) of writing in his POV was how unreliable it was. I knew that would be the case to some extent but not to the extent it was, purely because he normally has a strong grasp of what's real and what's not (most humans do lol). However, Anakin is unreliable in a way that kind of expanded how I think about the term "unreliable narrator." It's really interesting the way he sort of twists some truths to berate the shit out of himself while twisting other truths to make himself look better. As a character, he's both arrogant/reckless and insecure/self-loathing, which is a total contradiction. So, in his POV, when he twists truth to justify those two contradictory traits, the lies he tells himself become contradictory too. For example, in 5PE, he has had (at least) one mild-to-moderate concussion, the symptoms of which he at first exagerates in order to cope with the guilt for what he feels he caused to happen to Obi-Wan in chapter 7. But when he realizes how bad Obi-Wan's own cognitive symptoms are, Anakin's truth-twisting transforms from the "I need to get away with this" guilt into the self-loathing guilt... and he starts to deny that he suffered concussion at all... as a way of inflicting punishment/hatred upon himself (because, without a concussion, he can say he had "no excuse" to act the way he did).

Anyway those lies are only two amongst many in 5PE, of course. And all of these contradictory lies all delicately balanced by his refusal to think about any of them too hard. Like, if he were to pause for a second and consider everything, his mind would probably rip itself to shreds—no wonder he doesn't like to meditate. It's a clusterfuck in there. XD So yeah, it's fascinating how he is just layers upon layers of contradictions and how much he casually hates himself (but lies to himself about hating himself). I'm very much enjoying Anakin just constantly gaslighting himself and trainwrecking his own life. Super fun.

#18. The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?

Boy, I mean, if we're being fully honest, I had the hardest time writing Mace Windu. I love Mace Windu so much and desperately wanted to do his scene in 5PE justice. At the time, I'd noticed that fandom often tends to use him as the stereotypically strict & lawfully good Jedi, and I definitely see that facet in his personality... but really Mace Windu's capacity to forgive, empathize, and show compassion is boundless. And so much more intense than people seem to give him credit for. He's harsh because he knows the world will be harsher; he's harsh because he cares and wants the young ones to be ready; he's harsh because someone has to raise the concerns that no one is considering; he's harsh because he's fighting for a world that he wants more than anything to be gentle. That's always been my favorite thing about Mace Windu. But when I went to write in his POV, I realized I only understood his character in relation to other characters. I didn't really know what made him tick. In order to understand him better, I actually read the entire book Shatterpoint by Matthew Stover, which I highkey recommend. I originally was only gonna read a few chapters to get the hang of his POV, but then that book was so damn intense and well written that I couldn't help but finish it. My breath was absolutely blown away.

I also really struggled with Obi-Wan's character. In 5PE, Anakin's POV is so self-centered that trying to see anything outside of him is like trying to see through some kind of thick honey. So he's really hard to like... understand. I spend hours trying to dig my way out of Anakin's POV in order to figure out what Obi-Wan's thinking and going through lmfao, and I've had to ask a lot of help. In Every Shadow, he was also frustrating because while Anakin's POV is there and in your face and all-encompassing, Obi-Wan's POV is very featherlight and it kinda dances around you no matter what you try to do. Every Shadow was originally meant to be a very flashback-driven fic. I realized within one chapter of Obi-Wan's POV that the man was refusing to have a flashback, and that, between the two of us, he was the more stubborn one... and that his evasive strategies knew no limits... and that I would never be clever enough to catch him in an actual flashback lmfao. So I gave up on that altogether and had to rework the entire story I'd planned in order to get where I needed to go lmao. In other words, this bitch is s l i p p e r y. Both to characters IN the fanfic, and to ME, the FANFIC AUTHOR. I can't get a fucking grip on him. And he knows it. Makes my life hell lmao, I love him. Luckily @kcrabb88 has kindly betaread a lot Obi-Wan scenes I've struggled with lmao, and I appreciate her dearly. Her Obi-Wan is perfect, and I highkey recommend her fic.

[finch-the-foolish]

Day two--One Fine Day

(again, prompt credits to @queenofnabooty)

It was a rare occasion that Alibrand did not dream of flame. Even though daer time in the Exyron was long gone, the memories still remained, the scars a permanent reminder of the horrors vey had faced for veyr crimes.

And so vey went to sleep with the knowledge dae'd wake up in a state of terror, furthered by the knowledge that its dreams were mere echoes of reality.

Tonight, though? Tonight was different.

As it drifted into that strange space of unreality, vey found veyrself in a familiar world.

It was late morning, the still-rising sun sending arcs of glowing light through the windows, even as it reached towards the centre of the sky. Laughter echoed up from across the clearing, where three children sat, giggling amongst themselves.

It couldn't help but smile as it looked about, drawing in the sweet air of spring, basking in the glow which echoed through the buildings around them all. Dae stretched out daer wings, and some part of them, some real fragment of conscious, found it bizarre the feeling of feathers against daer skin.

Vey glanced across the clearing where they sat, smiling softly at the many citizens wandering the city. This was a good day for such wanderings—warm, but not too hot, with a faint breeze just brushing daer skin, the trees and flowers just starting into bloom. It was wonderful. Tranquil. And terribly foreign to daer mind.

Vey shook veyr head, casting aside those strange thoughts of reality. As long as vey could, vey would stay here, locked up in this wondrous past.

It reached down, grasping the sharp blades of grass in daer hand, brushing across the plants below where dae sat. There was no impulse of flame, no sudden anger at life. Merely peace.

Alibrand drew in a long breath, tasting the sweet echoes of flowers in the breeze. The work of Olaiss, it could only assume. Vey grinned, letting veyr eyes slip shut, leaving only that wondrous warmth to course through their veins.

Only moments later, though, vey was interrupted by a tug at veyr sleeve. Vey opened veyr eyes, finding itself facing a small child, no older than five or six. A small flicker of irritation sparked, but vey quickly drowned it. Vey wasn't going to ruin this, false as it may be.

"Hello?" Alibrand looked over the child, mildly confused—they were unfamiliar, with short, messily cropped brown hair, tanned in a ruddy sort of manner, and bearing eyes of a stark emerald, which stared rather wide at daer.

The child smiled, letting out a soft giggle. It was only now that Ali noticed the flowers clasped in the kid's hands, small fingers grasping at the many stems.

They leaned in close, shoving the flowers into daer hands—lilies, roses; probably taken from one of the fields—and giving a short whisper.

"I think your wings are really pretty," they whispered, voice hushed as if this were some great secret. Then, with a laugh, they stumbled to their feet, little legs tramping through the grasses away.

Alibrand watched, slightly confused, as the child ran away, hurrying up to a woman in a long skirt, which they tugged at intently, pointing with the other hand back at Ali.

As the woman turned, dae gave a small wave, smiling at the lady. She gave a short wave back, before gathering the child up in her arms and starting off down the street.

It let out a sigh, watching the pair vanish down the path. Alone again… Daer mind quickly began to drift, lost in the haze of warm light and soft grasses and light winds.

Vey wasn't certain how long it had been when vey was drawn back, this time by a voice.

"Ali? You awake?" A familiar voice, with a slight concern—a teasing, almost.Ali let out a groan, opening daer eyes and sitting up in the grass—when had vey lied down again?—to find Avaeliss sitting before veyr, legs crossed and wings folded behind ayr.

"Ah, you're awake. Lovely. I was wondering where you'd run off to."

Alibrand shrugged. "Enjoying the weather, I suppose. It's nice to get out sometimes, especially with all the meetings we've had recently."

Avaeliss nodded. "Fair, fair. It is pleasant out today. Mind if I sit with you?"Dae gave another shrug, which Ave seemed to take as an answer. Ai half-crawled over next to daer, leaning ayr head on daer shoulder. One of Ali's wings wrapped around Avaeliss, and dae pulled an arm around ayr shoulder.

They spent the rest of the morning together, watching the people go by, talking, just enjoying the day.

Dae wasn't entirely certain where the dream faded off, only drawing back into reality with a bizarre sense of peace. It kept its eyes closed, smiling softly as it drew daer blanket closer around veyr.

They could sleep in today. The soft hints of sun and mem'ry were lovely enough.