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upon-a-starry-night · 6 months

Text

Number Neighbors Pt.8

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

~~~~

After four months of texting, you’d decided Nat was officially your new best friend of all time. You wondered if she’d ever be open to the option of meeting up but considering her initial hesitancy to even text you in the first place you figured that option was faaar off of the table…at least for now anyway.

You’d grown used to texting her at least once a day, and spamming her on days she’d go silent.

You didn’t know what she did for work but you understood a lot of jobs didn’t allow you to be on your phones, although she sometimes wouldn’t even respond during the night and it made you wonder if she worked some kind of occasional night job. It only helped solidify your theory that Nat was an FBI agent- or maybe a super spy.

It would give you exponential bragging rights if you got to say your best friend was a super spy- although she’d probably have to assassinate you for spilling her secret and that would not bode well for you considering you had plans to travel the world before you died.

Still- you had to admit the two of you were getting closer, and your conversations had become a wide range of you spilling your nonsensical thoughts and Nat growing increasingly more concerned for your mental health.

Nat🔪:

Y/n🍦:

Do you think because humans are full of water the same as cucumbers that we also have the potential to become pickled?

Nat🔪:

Your brain terrifies me

Y/n🍦:

When I die I don’t want to be cremated

I want to be pickled

Nat🔪:

Wow.

That’s…concerning

How have you survived this long?

You’d screenshotted the conversation and posted it on your story, to which your mother replied with apid curiosity about who you’d been texting. After explaining to your mother about your new budding friendship (leaving out the part where Nat was a complete and total stranger -your mother would freak) she expressed how excited she was for you to finally be reaching out and finding new friends.

She also expressed her relief that there was someone else in the world willing to put up with your otherworldly intrusive thoughts. So Nat was now mother-approved, you outwardly fist pumped the air in the middle of your kitchen, 'best friend status' has been upgraded

—----

Nat🔪:

Y/n🍦:

Natalee

I have a theory

Nat🔪:

If it’s about my name I’m

just going to debunk it right now

Y/n🍦:

What if the shit-tauri from the

Battle of shitstorm didn’t die

and they actually turned into the freakishly large

rats that live on the NYC subways?

Nat🔪:

Solid theory.

Any proof?

Y/n🍦:

Oh, lots.

But ya gotta earn it

Nat🔪:

…how so?

Y/n🍦:

Truth or dare…

Nat🔪:

No.

Y/n🍦:

To THE DEATH

Nat🔪:

I’m in.

Y/n🍦:

I’m just joking.

I knew you would enjoy that part

My cynical little raincloud friend

Nat🔪:

Oh I'm yours now am I?

Y/n🍦:

The thing is- I am also almost

Certain you are a result of my delusional &

Lonely mind- thus you are My delusional imaginary friend

Since no one else can experience MY delusions :)

Nat🔪:

I’m very real Y/n.

Y/n🍦:

I believe you delusional Nat

Nat🔪:

That implies you are calling ME delusion.

Y/n🍦:

maybe you are

Maybe I’M not even real!

Nat🔪:

How much have you had to drink?

Y/n🍦:

Nothing, why?

Nat🔪:

….

Seek professional help

Y/n🍦:

You should meet my therapist I think

you’d share the same sentiments.

Nat🔪:

Your therapist wants you

to seek professional help?

Y/n🍦:

My therapist needs a therapist because of me.

Anyways- do you want to earn the rat

theory proof or are you too soft for it

Nat🔪:

I don’t think anyone has ever called me

“Soft” before

Y/n🍦:

Pfft

Okay “The Rock”

Truth or dare?

Nat🔪:

…

dare

You took a second to think of a dare, getting up from the couch to make yourself a cup of your favorite tea. As you stirred the honey into the steaming liquid you thought of what you could suggest given you knew nothing about her environment. Finally, an idea came into your head and you snickered as you quickly typed out the message.

Y/n🍦:

I dare you to wear colors

Her response was immediate, a reaction you’d begun to get used to when texting Nat, it was a far cry from the hesitant hour-apart replies she used to give you.

Nat🔪:

What is with you and judging my

Choice of attire?

Y/n🍦:

The human eye can see 10 million colors

And you choose to wear black every day.

It’s absolutely outrageous.

I will not stand for it.

Nat🔪:

Jokes on you.

*image attached*

Much to your surprise the image Nat sent consisted of her viewpoint- the camera angled downwards- to show off the dark red t-shirt that Nat was pulling out to display to you to prove that she was in fact wearing color today.

The rest of the image only consisted of her black jeans, black sneakers, and a very boring glossy black flooring- unfortunately for you, it wasn’t shiny enough to give off any reflection of your online friend's face.

However, this was the first time Nat had sent you a photo of herself- and you felt honored that she’d grown comfortable enough to show you a glimpse of her skin along with her outfit.

You beamed at the photo even after staring at it for 5 minutes- the fact that she was sharing this part of herself and also wearing color did things to your stomach.

And maybe you made a little mental note in your head that she was wearing the color you said suited her best but you weren’t going to dive into that right now.

You got up and did a little pace around your small living room, biting your thumbnail and wondering if you should comment on it before deciding you’d be more likely to get more photos the less you pointed them out.

Eventually, you sat back down on your couch, tucked your feet under you, and tried to formulate a response that didn't show how much you were internally freaking out.

Y/n🍦:

God is real.

Nat🔪:

Ha ha.

Y/n🍦:

Wow It’s not even my birthday

But this is a gift.

Truly.

Nat🔪:

You’re overdoing it.

Y/n🍦:

I’m actually crying.

Nat🔪:

Finally some good news.

Y/n🍦:

Hey!

Fuck you darth vader

Nat🔪:

these attempts at guessing

My name are getting worse

Y/n🍦:

I’m beginning to think

You frustrate me

on purpose sometimes

Nat🔪:

Everything I do is on purpose.

Y/n🍦:

I wasn’t.

You blushed at the accidental insinuation that Nat had ‘done’ you and quickly changed the subject.

Y/n🍦:

Your turn smartass

Nat🔪:

Truth or dare Y/n?

After a few rounds of the two of you going back and forth daring each other to do ridiculous shit that may or may not have led to you chugging two full gulps of hot sauce (before and after evidence was provided) and you daring Nat to flirt with a random person in her contacts (Sorry to whoever ‘very old ice cube’ was in her phone, they seemed very flustered from the screenshots you received, another thing you were excited about but didn’t comment on). After all those dares you finally received the first truth proposition of the evening

Y/n🍦:

Truth or dare?

Nat🔪:

I think I’ve had enough of your

Unhinged dares.

Truth.

Y/n🍦:

You loved them-

Okay um…

Tell me something you’ve never told anyone before.

Nat didn’t respond for a while, whether she was thinking or busy you weren’t sure, you just watched as the typing bubble popped up and disappeared over and over again. You bit your thumbnail in anticipation. You thought it was an innocent enough question but the longer it took her to respond the more it felt like maybe such a simple question was more loaded than you’d anticipated

Maybe you should backtrack and ask another question…

Just as you were about to call off your previous message Nat’s response came through. It was shorter than you’d been expecting it to be after she’d taken so long.

Nat🔪:

I used to do Ballet… and there was a time when I guess I didn’t hate doing it even though I was forced to.

With a confession like that you have a feeling there’s more to it- most people were forced to do some kind of extracurricular in their youth, plenty of your coworkers were former band kids. You knew that a lot of the time though, those activities could lead to a lot of trauma, some underlying family trauma, some mommy issues, or ruined confidence but you don’t ask. It feels like she’s shared something deeply personal although it might not sound like it to most people.

And you’ll take anything new you can learn about her.

The more you learn about her the more you’re fascinated by her. Even the little crumbs of info she gives you- a film she watched the other night, her waffle topping preferences. You think if it were any other person you probably wouldn’t care that much.

But it’s Nat.

So you make a notes tab and you start keeping track of the little things she tells you about herself.

Because it’s Nat.

And fuck if that wasn’t the most obvious shit in the world.

You quickly shook your head and picked up your tea to take a sip, you weren’t going to let yourself think like that about someone you’ve never even met- and might never meet- you reminded yourself. You made a quiet noise of contemplation and shifted slightly on the couch before settling on a humorous response you hoped she understood as you acknowledging her loaded admission.

Y/n🍦:

Shit man, I used to do piano lessons

Nat sent back an unimpressed emoji and you barked out a laugh, having successfully eased whatever tension hung in the air- at least on your side.

Nat was a mystery that was slowly coming unraveled, a puzzle that revealed its pieces little by little. The more you learned about her the more you liked her.

You just wished you could really see her.

Pt.9

A/n: Y/n's personality is based on my shower thoughts~Starry

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Taglist:

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish

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polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup · 8 months

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heyy 📓

I have this one fic that I’m deeply fond of but will likely never write due to the inexorable confines of linear time that’s basically assistant Jon trying to gaslight the entire archives that his husband, Gerry Keay, is dead. He is not. He is trying to bring Jon coffee and wondering why his dear, dear husband is shoving him into the bushes.

The idea is that Gertrude figured out that Elias was trying to groom this feverish nerd as her replacement (he is not a subtle man) and, as a matter of checkmating him, made Jon her assistant to basically give him an out from the contract in the case of her death. A deadman’s switch, basically. She didn’t explain shit to him with the transfer, however. She wanted to keep her options open until she decided how exactly to play the matter.

She did not account for this feverish nerd going off the deep end at record speed, stalking everyone including her and her goth buddy cop companion, who found the fact that there was stupid enough to stalk the man accused of violent murder and subsequent skinning inexplicably attractive. Jons reasoning was anyone who burns leitners couldn’t be THAT bad, which did NOTHING to prevent Gerry’s burgeoning crush. Gerry explains everything to him pretty immediately after catching him at the stalking thing and they’re sickeningly in love in record speed.

Gertrude is a lesbian but honestly they’re disgustingly in love enough to make her homophobic. Stop holding hands where she has to see it. She has some regrets about this decision.

Elias manages to finagle past the deadman’s switch by getting him to re-sign through a very compelling hiring bonus. The compulsion is a gun and the bonus is his beloved husband doesn’t get shot in the fucking head. Jon re-signs.

The thing is that he signs on as an assistant again, because Elias is faking him out. Jon and Gerry are both half-Become and terrified of losing themselves. They’re desperately trying to find a way of breaking Jon’s contract and escape with their lives and souls intact. He knows that, if Jon was the Head Archivist, he’d follow in Gertrude’s footsteps to slow his own becoming.

Except the Archivist is a what and the Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute is just a title. Elias basically tricks Jon into thinking he’s trying to make Sasha the Archivist by promoting her and letting Jon “get one over” on him by interfering with her Becoming, furthering his own in the process. Jon thinks he’s just there as Gertrude’s former assistant who knows about her plans to stop upcoming apocalypses. Gertrude never told him that she suspected Elias wanted him for the job, so he’s completely blind to the real stakes. He thinks he’s protecting Sasha from her own becoming and instead just sinking further into his own.

The thing is that Elias has made it very clear that if actually tells Sasha and the rest of the assistants anything, Elias will find a way to kill both him and Gerry. And Jon’s very much tied to the archives, so they’re limited in ways they can protect themselves. He’s stuck pretending that he knows nothing and working in the background to keep them safe as he can.

Cue “Let’s see if we can track down this Gerard Keay fellow in all these Statements” “We, we can’t” “why not” “He… died. Very tragic. So sad.”

In Jon’s defense he panicked and also if they find Gerard Keay it’s a very short jump to “hey Jon why did we find a marriage certificate with your name on it and this very spooky man’s name on it” “hey Jon why did we find all these statements that featured both you and him in these spooky circumstances hidden in your desk” “hey Jon have you been lying to us this entire time” “hey Jon is that Elias with a fucking gun.” It’s just. It’s a slippery slope. The only reasonable thing to do is fake his own husbands death.

Gerry finds this solution hilarious and is immediately and violently reminded of why he married this man.

(“Oh I’m sorry I can’t do the dishes I’m too dead for that” “Gerry do you want to die for real”)

Guest starring:

Michael’s aggressive, mandatory, and deeply troubling adoption of Jon during his time as an assistant (he wants to prove he’s better at keeping assistants alive than Gertrude)

Wlw/mlm violence starring Basira and Daisy (Basira met Jon via Sectioned matters and they got on like a house fire, and like. It’s really hard to find those couple friends, you know? Like sometimes she wouldn’t mind going out to a pub with her partner and a friend who has a partner and they like, get group discounts or something. Daisy come on it will be fun. Only Jon shows up with accused murderer Gerard Keay and Basira shows up with a fucking Hunter. Both of them think the other has terrible taste in partners)

Sasha and Tim trying to set up Martin with Jon, who is absolutely not married to Gerard Keay, because Gerard Keay is too dead to be married to anyone

#tma #jongerry #this one is so fun and silly I wish I had time to write it

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ladyarrowhead · 3 months

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The poetics of the Vlad the Younger vs Vlad the Older in so far the Haruspex and Bachelor Route are just keeping me up, and Vlad the Younger being a possible adherent, supposedly only removed for the sake of not accidentally auto-game-over as the Bachelor just adds to how interesting this choice is to me. Lots of musings below this, I do not know where I am going with this

Additionally, "Panacea Blackmarket" ALSO takes place on this day in which Vlad the Younger is linked to it, something that Daniil first detests ("The man won't let a single penny past his purse! It occurs to me that he is no better than Bad Grief), with a hint of Dankovsky-typical "wait maybe the worms framed Vlad for this, let me check"). The Bachelor is only to change his opinion once he finds out that Vlad is now trying to "make amends" by distributing the panacea to the people he had doomed (Yes, people do change a lot. Before, I was convinced that this man was beyond salvation. I thought that nothing less than death could make the leopard change its spots. But I see a new man before me now. His former self has died; but not before he gave the entirety of his panacea stock to Mark Immortell.)

"Subterrarean Rot", to me becomes interesting because Daniil very much likes to align himself with the truth and slowly and surely has been shown and expected to lie tooth and nail to protect himself. Finding our who is behind the Termitary's state, Daniil is originally to decide who to deliver to Taya, but his journal entry is SO interesting about this:

The whole thing proved to be a trivial affair, but no less terrifying for it. When Isidor informed the Olgimskys of the impending outbreak, it was the younger who did what the elder did not dare to. But as the consequences became known, it was the father who shielded his son from the ramifications. A double deceit. This being known, I am in a strong position to speak with the Olgimskys.

I remember my jaw dropping at this when I found out Vlad the Younger, who had seemed so reasonable, had been the one to lock up the Termitary, but Daniil describes him as doing "what the elder did not dare to." Calling Vlad the Younger out, he is more than ready to carry the consequences, while Vlad the Older decides he will take the blame for his heir. When Taya asks Daniil to bring him "who is responsible for it", he (and the game's writing in so far), identify Young Vlad for it.

So how would Daniil decide then when this is how it comes about? When the man is showing so much change? Well, he can take a third option and just not decide - he brings Taya her toybull instead.

And oh goodness? The potential conflict of "the truth is my shepherd" seeing a person who makes an effort to change (if genuine or not that, like so many things, another question) to deliver someone? The choice to take a third option because, in the end, what does this matter if there is a town to save?

It just says so much about what could be Daniil's priorities. It's fun! And then we have Artemy...

"A Son Will Not Be Punished For His Father's Sins" is already named in a very interesting matter - and it immediately calls back to the Haruspex's own position as a "son". This takes place on the day Artemy claims his inheritance in front of Foreman Oyun - it is the day where, unlike the Bachelor, Artemy himself CANNOT avoid making this decision - one of the Olgimsky men needs to die.

There are two fun layers to this - on the one hand it is learning that Taya does not directly care who of the guys she is getting (something I think she also mentions to the Bachelor but I cannot check right now) and learning more about the polcies of the families in the Steppe. Artemy learns it is common among the merchant families that one sacrifices himself to protect the heir at all costs - and that what matters is that someone is punished for a crime that is committed.

Artemy's journal entries for the quest are very interesting leading into this:

So, Vlad the Heavy surrendered himself to Tycheek's daughter? It's clear enough that he isn't the real culprit… I only have to decide if I should tell her the truth. I wonder how that story ends…

Once again, Day 8 offers another quest from Vlad the Younger, because we are all about parallels. This time it is "Below the Ground" where Artemy is asked to retrieve the book detailing the kin's history from the tunnels which may or may not have been a setup given that the tunnels are closed directly once Artemy has entered them . While the book itself is not succesful, it makes Artemy wonder about the parallels between him and Vlad as Vlad himself is also apparently trying to unearth something - though he speaks of him with much more distance (So, Vlad the Younger has managed to reach beneath the ground as well. Is he trying to emulate what I am doing? He has found life down below, just like I have. [...]The ancient wisdom of the Kin was concealed there, locked away until the moment I unearthed it. I'm almost amused by the coincidence.)

Surrendering Vlad the Younger to his death to Taya in also, wonderfully, framed as Artemy taking his place among the kin:

Yes. Let Vlad the Younger die. Whoever makes a decision will be held responsible for it. With every passing day, I feel that the life of the Kin is my own life. I must protect it and avenge its suffering. Whatever fate had in store for these few thousand people, Vlad the Younger is directly responsible for their death.

No. Let Big Vlad die. I should inform Georgiy of my decision. I wouldn't describe Vlad the Heavy as a sentimental man. If he chose to die, he must have had good reason to. Or could it be that he thinks he deserves the punishment?

Surrendering Vlad to Taya matches with Artemy taking his own place - and Vlad the Younger is thus not punished for his fahter's sins but his own, meanwhile Artemy is about to take his father's place and heritage, trying to finish what Isidor created.

An honourable mention goes to the entry as to letting Taya kill Vlad the Older instead:

I am excited to find out more about this, if there is more - knowing this is Pathologic there is certainly more but it will not bring more clarity. But what is it for Artemy then, to be the one choosing it is time for the father to die and thus for Young Vlad to take on his heritage? It certainly is missing the poetry of the entry when choosing Vlad the Younger - but it makes it just as interesting.

#pathologic meta #pathologic #pathologic spoilers #vlad the younger #haruspex route #bachelor route #daniil dankovsky #artemy burakh #pathologic classic hd

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runningfrom2am · 3 months

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1. coryo’s reaction at the the beginning is very real. “i thought we were over this.”

2. r trying to get jessup to the open grave reaper organised is everything to me. she deserves all the hugs.

3. her being closest to the person she was when she left district 12, while offering her life in exchange for a few words feels she is trying to hold onto her identity.

4. “My heart was heavy, for its trust had been / Abused, its kindness answered with foul wrong;” there is no way she doesn’t remember the first two lines of this poem but that part is personal and she gets to keep it.

5. not gonna lie, coral made me laugh there. imagine you’re fighting to death and there’s a girl who conveys her every thought through poems.

6. how i love reaper, honestly. he genuinely might be the best of them. it would be horrible if he were to be hit by the drones.

7. “What would be the use in helping her now?” oh, the reality and the corruption it brings.

8. SHE SMILED AT CORAL!! this might be the “death” of our “juliet”, i wonder when will “romeo” “die”.

9. coryo finally seems to have learned how to twist the truth, good for him!

10. TAKE THE GIRL OUT OF THERE! it’s horrible enough to have experienced all of that but to spend a night at the same spot with only guilt to keep company is terrifying.

11. wondering if coryo regrets what he did because she has done things that she isn’t proud of, empathy might become the very thing that keeps her sane. also i think this is the first time she called him coriolanus, internally.

12. her look on everything is being challenged, from her morals to her love. this actually made me cry.

13. is coryo not going to be exiled? with the compact seemingly unnoticed and the note having an explanation to exist there, maybe he gets away.

this one is long y’all- strap in

1. literally lol- he’s like “damn i JUST find out you’re still alive and you’re giving up??”

2. ugh yeah 🥺 and he deserved it too like i literally think she saw no other options. she was sure getting him there would cost her her life and it was worth it.

3. yes this!! i think she had a few minutes of clarity almost- where later on she thinks ab how the “old her” is just a voice in the back of her mind it’s really not! only when her life is threatened not on her terms does she really stray from that relentless empathy that really makes her who she is.

4. yuppp you get it you get it.

5. NO LITERALLY like if i was coral i wouldn’t have patience for that either like i do get it hahaha

6. REAPERRRR he deserved so much better and i LOVED his character especially in the book. he’s so complex and i do honestly think he’s quite similar to r, but he just put up this show that he was a threat and she never made that attempt. all he wanted was to protect dill. i’ll cry for him forever.

7. YUP. i feel like she doesn’t even want to think that way or even necessarily believe what she’s thinking but she doesn’t have time for second-thoughts and is constantly almost in this battle with her mind and her body where she wants to do the “right” thing but her body is doing what it can to protect and save itself before she can think of repercussions. that would be SO incredibly confusing and scary to deal with so her mind almost has to “pretend” to play along to protect itself. (if this makes any sense at all.) i just mean that the more “dark” less characteristically accurate thoughts she is having feel almost performative, she has to trick herself into it so she doesn’t feel as guilty. (this doesn’t work.)

8. now as we go on in the chapter my last point starts to get very blurry. because a smile, a comment like that, literally mocking coral in her last moments are so unlike r that it’s shocking. like you said, the death of juliet, in a sense. so how much of that is genuinely what she is feeling, and how much is what she thinks she should be feeling? she comes across as kind, gentle, even naive, but this interaction makes it obvious that she has never seen coral in much of a positive light- especially after the games started. so maybe she saw no consequence in getting at least one jab in at her, but she does regret this later when that clarity comes back.

9. lol yeah he ATE. (in this one i needed him to have his “i’m just sending water” moment and this was it lol)

10. no LITERALLY like dr. gaul knew damn well those boys in the vents were dead even if she thought it was by the snakes. it feels almost more like a test for coryo than for her, though it is a cruel punishment to just leave her like that.

11. i’m so glad you get it, like this girl bleeds empathy. i think leaving her overnight wasn’t meant to force her to dwell on what she had done, because according to the cameras, she really hadn’t done anything. i think that’s what made it so hard, too. no one knew what she had done besides herself. she doesn’t know or care if anyone besides coryo is still watching by the time she pulls out the compact, intent on taking her own life whether she realizes consciously that’s what she wants or not, and then when he takes that from her she confesses. as far as she knows, she’s confessing to the world bc she really couldn’t live with herself otherwise. she’s just lucky that he happens to be the only one there. she’s lucky, but she doesn’t care.

ALSO the coriolanus thing,, yup. she was VERY quick at the beginning to separate him from his name. as soon as she found out his nickname she clung to it and really decided that he was coryo, not coriolanus. that line is so blurred by now that she doesn’t know who he is anymore.

12. me too 🥺 my heart breaks for her because even if she did technically “cheat”, she didn’t do anything wrong. she was so much more harmless than almost all of the others, she tried her best to stay that way but she just couldn’t.

13. i mean… as long as no one looks over the footage of what happened that night and early in the morning he should be fine 😬

#i have the answers #cold nights <3 #that-veela-girl

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doppel-doodles · 6 months

Note

What is Shui's opinion on a certain "Albino Witch" wandering in the mortal realm? xD (Aka: Yeva shdhsjjd-)

Also, do they have any hobbies? :0

Ayayayaya you are tickling my writers brain I see-

Let’s say in this scenario Shui and Yeva probably met via Redson dragging her along to his lessons with Arthur because uh yeah he is kinda his teacher-

And in that case congrats she is now part of the family and no rejecting this is not an option.

Of course a friend of redson is a friend of hers! But for Yeva specifically I can see Shui would probably mother hen after her a lot, I feel like her more quiet nature and lack of emotion remind her a lot of one of her own daughters.

And a bonus for if she would have known her in her younger years, while Shui was a lot less terrifying than she was in her celestial warrior years she was still not the most approachable person however when Yeva decided to become her problem she would probably become the unpaid babysitter because „I guess I won’t let you die from stupidity.“ meant affectionately of course XD

She definitely would have made Yeva babysit her little brats once they came into the world as revenge :>

Well as for hobbies they all have something going on :0

But this is already way to long so have a quick list-

Shui: One of her favorite pastimes is researching marine biology and the underwater world in general, as an aquatic type demon it is pretty easy for her to just dive into a body of water and explore to her hearts content after all. On these trips she also looks for shiny knickknacks for her ever growing collection but besides that she also works out.

Arthur: Honestly if you were to just ask him then he would probably just answer "work." And to be fair almost blowing the roof of your house is a fun pass time but what he also likes doing is cooking which he is quite good at. Does adopting everything that breaths in your general direction also count as a hobby?-

Adrien: He's pretty into books but Adrien doesn't just like reading he also likes to write them himself. (definitely wrote a lot of fanfic in his teen years)

Klara: Oh she definitely is the type of kid that would do millions of activities and hobbies all the time and would leave nothing untouched, does everything from sports to researching physics for fun-

Katie: She likes to draw and dabbles in fashion design, really wants to learn how to actually make clothes, also a pretty big theater kid.

—

Jú: Dancing and singing were her main ones but she definitely doesn't do those a lot anymore, another one where the answer would just be "work." If asked. Volunteers at animal shelter's in her free time.

Băoshí: Also pretty big into working out but also likes to craft, everything from cute little bird houses to full on furniture if bro can make it himself then he won't buy it. He to has a collection of shiny things stashed somewhere and it's only growing. He does some gardening on the side.

Yúnlü: Her passion lies in music, she is on a mission to try and learn as many instruments as possible. Besides that I picture her to be really into video games, definitely gets way too competitive when playing Mario party.

—

Ming: I guess the closest thing he had to a hobby after his death was etching a line into his gravestone to keep track of the days, though eventually he couldn't even do that.

Baí: Sleeping, he doesn't need it anymore but it's a nice break from reality. Other than that he isn't exactly allowed to do anything that isn't serving or training.

—

Mengtao: Gardening is her main one, even if it is technically her duty she still enjoys it. Other than that she also likes to annoy Nezha and Lao tzu-

Amia: She likes to knit! Her webs make for surprisingly comfy sweaters. Amia is also into crappy romance novels as well as making candy and baked goods.

Wanna know who you can ask a question? Click here!

Of course Yeva belongs to @chuitu

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ymaohoh · 29 days

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'and she's a bride of the fucking devil' - Hellcheer Fic - Chapter One

Henry Creel has waited a lifetime for her. (and Chrissy thinks this is hell)

Yes, Henry was something else entirely. Not human, not like her. “Are you going to hurt me?” Chrissy whispered. (she was so achingly beautiful when afraid) There was a glint of something deep in his eyes. Something long-forgotten, something primal, something even he may not understand. “I don’t want to…but I will if you anger me and leave me with no other choice,” Henry answered after a small pause. He used one of his long elegant fingers to lift her chin so she had no option but to meet his burning intensity. “...but if you're good, Chrissy, and follow my rules, then I will keep you safe. I swear it.”

Lots of very iffy manipulation and dubious consent. There's going to be an underlying theme of Chrissy/Eddie (thus the relationship tag) Also on Archive. Word count: 7,355 Rated: M - next chapter is going to earn some tags.

Her body was numb (unfeeling) as it slammed against the trailer ceiling.

All Chrissy could do was watch and scream, but her body refused to listen to her pleas - please please stop, I don’t want to die. It was almost mockingly cruel how her body chose to ignore her. How once again it did not belong to her. She had wickedly starved and punished this body for the simple crime of not being good enough.

It was as unloved as an abandoned dolly (its hair brutally shaved, its glassy eyes scribbled over in biro, its plastic limbs snapped and bent in painful angles).

Her body crashed against the roof with a sickeningly loud bang. Through a fog, she could hear the distant sound of someone yelling, of someone calling her name over and over. But her body did not respond to the name of Chrissy anymore. It was rejecting her, shutting her out.

It owed her no loyalty. No love.

(though harsh, it made sense that the manner of her death would be removed entirely from her control, just as her pitiful life had been)

Because Chrissy had always been the type of girl to watch meekly from the sidelines and let things happen to her. Like the proverb - see no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil - she sleepwalked through life with her eyes and ears firmly stitched up without ever pushing back (it didn’t matter that her mom held the needle - she was complicit). If she would not fight for her life, then why would it fight for her now?

It owed her nothing.

Let her tumble and fall. Let her break and shatter.

The monster that stood before her was the culmination of every nightmare, every unknown terror in the dark, every shiver that creeped down her back. It was the evil that stalked her from the shadowy depths of her mind.

She was the hunted animal, and strained against the iron trap that held her. She wasn’t brave enough to gnaw at the flesh of her ankle to get free.

“Don’t cry, Chrissy…” the monster murmured.

It was not the kind of voice she expected to hear at her end. It was gentle, almost compassionate. Like the snake in the Garden of Eden, its forked tongue whispered half truths into the shell of her ear…or were they temptations?

“Sweet girl, it’s time for your suffering to end.”

She was terrified of this creature that towered over her (its dark eyes relentless). The fear wedged tight in her throat, threatening to choke and gag her.

Chrissy knew this was the moment in movies and books where the plucky hero would plead and bargain for the villain to let them go, to spare their life. She should use this chance to tell him how desperately she wanted to live and return to her beloved friends and family - please oh please let me live. There’s still so much I want to see and do. Didn’t she read somewhere that victims often said please when bargaining with their captors? As if the sugary sweet manners bullied into her as a child would be enough to sway this monster’s gruesome mind.

(she saw it all so clearly in her head - her eyes wide and tearful, her quivering lip, her hands clasped together like some maiden from a tale)

But instead she only trembled and wept, courage and words failing her. It was like her body had already shut down to face the inevitable.

(and she loathed herself for it. Like a lamb to the slaughter, she lay down to bear it without a fuss. She would cause no trouble)

She doubted anyone would miss her. What was one less coward in the world?

“It is time, Chrissy. Come…”

It was so much easier to lean towards him, to swallow his offer whole.

The monster held out its hand like he was offering the forbidden fruit itself but before she could take it (and accept it), its talons caught hold of her wrist in an icy cold grip and tugged her forwards.

Forwards into a waking fucking nightmare.

And Chrissy was desperately, fearfully, alone. That was the very worst thing.

She spent hours calling for help, calling out for anyone else who might also be stuck in this long twisted web of crimson smoke and shadows. She yelled and shouted, trying to hold onto hope that someone else had been taken by the monster, and she would have an ally.

An ally who would tell her what to do, who would keep her safe.

She wished bitterly for her boyfriend Jason, for her father, even for her granddaddy who died when she was eight and who used to swing her up on his broad shoulders. She even wished for Eddie Munson though she hardly knew him at all (she thought he would help her though - just like he offered to help her in the forest. He played that Dungeons and Dragons game that Jason labelled wicked and ungodly, perhaps he would enjoy playing as a knight on a foolhardy quest to rescue the maiden from the monster?).

Or more likely he would be snapped and broken, just as she had been.

Chrissy didn’t know how long she searched for as time seemed irrelevant in this world. It was Hawkins, she came to realise, as she drifted from home to home without any real plan of where she was going. Only this Hawkins was like something from the doomsday sermons she grew up listening to at church.

She remembered flicking through a book she found at a yard sale when she was still a kid. The pages showed scarily dark depictions of hell and the devil, images that had (of course) burned a hole through her young impressionable mind. They weren’t too far off what she saw now.

(she had snuck that book home beneath her sweater and stashed it under her mattress - her mom had raised (figurative) hell when she found it and slapped her so hard her teeth chattered. She was forced to attend Christian camp that summer).

She began to think of this world as some hellscape. Everything was crimson and decrepit and covered in a thick coating of dust and debris. The sky above her was always dark (there was no sun, no clouds, no stars) - though thunder and lightning often waged war, making her flinch. Whenever that happened the world around her would always shift as though waiting for something, and the creepy blood-red vines would twist and pulse.

If this was hell, did that mean she was truly dead?

She certainly felt like a ghost as she explored further and further, without any plan or purpose.

Her memory was starting to fail her (she wondered if this was a side effect of being here - that the smoke and dust she inhaled were clouding her mind), and the details of what happened were already hazy.

She couldn’t remember a knife or a gun. There were flashes of distant pain, of broken limbs…but when she looked down she found her arms and legs were smooth and whole, no evidence of foul play at all.

And the rest of her body was similarly unaffected. It seemed frozen in time, in a perpetual state of being from when she first arrived in this nightmare. She spent all of her time roaming but her hair did not grow greasy and any dirt or grime did not stick. She found she didn’t need to sleep - though she grew tired.

(when she eventually reached her own house, she used a knife from the kitchen drawer to prick the end of her finger to see if she could still bleed. She screamed when no blood would come, even when she pinched the flesh hard. She grew bold and cut into her arm - again, no blood or wound - but she felt it, at least)

Was this what it was to be a ghost then?

It was not a surprise to Chrissy that her childhood home offered no sense of safety even now, and so she didn’t linger. She crept from room to room, thinking she should collect some valuables in her backpack perhaps, but what good would any of that be to her now? Ghosts didn’t mementos or keepsakes.

She did try and change her clothes into something more practical (if she was going to go on like this forever, she wasn’t sure a cheerleading uniform was the most fitting) but when she tried removing her skirt she found the zipper would not budge. Her clothes and shoes seemed glued to her body. She tried pulling out her ponytail and thankfully that did come out, at least.

She only ever wore it up to please Jason. It would be a real kick in the teeth if that act of deference remained with her forever.

Yet bizarrely (or was it bizarre? She had no right to predict the rules of this place, surely) she started to feel the familiar pangs of hunger and dehydration. Her body was invulnerable to harm and illness and starvation, but it still expected to be nourished.

She tried drinking straight from the kitchen tap but found the water here tasted like rust and she gagged. Similarly any food she ate crumbled in her mouth like ash. It sustained her for a little while but soon her stomach was growling again. It seemed no matter how much she ate or drank, she could not quench the ache.

(the irony was not lost on her - that she gave in to these pangs now but ignored them while alive. Perhaps this hellscape created these rules in order to punish her)

Before she left, Chrissy considered setting fire to her home but as cathartic as it would be to watch it all go up in flames, she couldn’t muster the energy. She did pull down the hideous family portrait and used a pair of scissors to snip it up though (Ms Kelley’s sessions had never felt as rewarding).

Instead she found herself walking towards where it all started: the Munson family trailer.

By the time she reached Forest Hills, her legs were shaking with exhaustion and she could barely crawl. She let herself inside and collapsed on the shabby couch.

The lounge looked similar to when she last saw it, though she’d been preoccupied by way more important things than interior design - like buying ketamine, Jason finding out she was alone with the self-proclaimed school freak, the constant horrifying nightmares that left her muddled and sick with fear. She remembered the cosiness of the trailer, however, and liked how different it was to her own stark cold home.

Everything looked the same…except for the the large fucking something on the ceiling which made her leap up. It looked like a…window? A door? She peered directly up at it. Instead of seeing the metal roof or stormy sky outside, she thought she could see…more furniture.

Chrissy had to balance on a chair to reach, but even through the darkness (for a shimmering cloud of black smoke settled around it, as though protecting it) she saw another lounge on the other side of that window. Like a mirror image, she could make out the couch, the TV, the same damn goofy mugs displayed on the wall. It was brighter though, like a lamp was turned on.

Holding her breath, she reached up high but was blocked by an invisible barrier. It felt like scraping her nails against glass.

Only it didn’t shatter like glass, even when she banged her fists against it. Chrissy hit it with such force that her wrists throbbed and would have surely broken were she anywhere else.

She wasn’t the type of girl who swore, but she did so now. She cursed until she was blue in the face.

Eventually she curled up on Eddie’s bed and wept.

She must have drifted off to sleep (though maybe not…who could tell what was real or a dream anymore, and did it matter either way?) because suddenly she was no longer in the Munson home.

She was kneeling in the attic of an old stately house that looked a lot like her own, except it was decrepit and falling apart at the seams. There was no roof and two of the walls had crumbled away (or been blown off in an explosion). It was filthy and cobwebs decorated nearly every surface. She could see spiders lurking in the shadowy corners.

Chrissy couldn’t explain it, but she knew instinctively that wherever she was, was at the very heart of this shadowy hellscape world. The vines that twisted through the open walls were huge and the air seemed charged. It curled around her, enveloping her, and crackled with electricity and power.

Could this be the beast’s lair? Had it brought her here to finish the job?

She tried to stand, thinking it was better to meet this monster on her feet instead of crawling like a snake on the ground, but a sudden wave of nausea and tiredness hit her over the head and she saw stars. It was enough to make her cower and bow down.

“Poor girl.”

She managed to glance up, expecting to meet those terrifying dark eyes once again, but the man standing across the attic looked decidedly human.

The first thing she noticed was that he was an especially beautiful looking man. His sandy coloured hair waved back from his face naturally and his eyes were the same shade of blue as the sky in summer. His poise and bone structure was elegant, reminding her of an English aristocrat from romance novels and movies. Though he was dressed in plain white clothing, she could easily picture him in a gentleman’s ruffled shirt and waistcoat.

She had never seen anyone like him in Hawkins before. He didn’t look like he could belong in her kind of world.

A dream then (though she could feel the splinters of the floorboards dig into her knees).

She glanced again at the spiders in the corner of the room. They seemed to be inching closer.

“Don’t worry about them. I won’t let them harm you.”

It was a strange thing for him to say, but then everything about this was strange.

“Who…who are you?” she stammered.

“My name is Henry Creel.”

Creel. She knew that name from somewhere, tucked in a forgotten space of her memory like a childhood fairytale.

“I…I’m - ”

“Oh I know who you are, Chrissy Cunningham.”

His eyes swept over her. She felt very exposed beneath those (lovely) eyes.

“You do?” Chrissy frowned and placed a hand to her forehead to try and steady herself. She felt sluggish as she tried to bite out the words, every syllable draining her strength (of which she had precious little left). “Oh - I’m so sorry…I’m pleased to meet you, I am, but it’s so hard to focus right now. This place…I don’t know where I am… but I’m so tired and hungry…I hardly know what I’m saying...”

Henry Creel waved a hand through the air.

A silver plate appeared before her, filled with fruits and pastries. As did a pretty old fashioned goblet of what looked like water.

“Here, please help yourself. You look ravenous.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. She helped herself to a little of everything and swallowed it greedily. Unlike the other sustenance in this hellscape, this food actually tasted like food, not ash and rust. She moaned when she bit into a ripe strawberry and licked the sweet juice from her lips. She gulped down the water in one go.

She felt her mind and body welcome the nourishment almost immediately. In other circumstances she might have felt embarrassed at making such a sight (her mom would’ve called her some very choice words) but here it didn’t matter.

“Thank you. I feel better already,” she said and he nodded curtly.

He waved his hand again and the plate and goblet vanished.

(she didn’t even think to question where the food came from or why Henry had waited so long before tracking her down, time in which she had sunk near to the point of starvation - with no hope of succumbing to it)

He had spoken politely, in a measured cultured accent she couldn’t place. He seemed a lot more at ease in their current circumstances than Chrissy and had clearly been here for some time.

Though she was still afraid, she managed to find a sliver of courage (just enough) to ask…

“...are we dead?”

His expression didn’t falter even for a second. He must have been expecting it. “What do you think, Chrissy?”

“I think I am. I think…I feel…like I’m dead inside. I can’t sleep properly…or eat…or even bleed. If I throw myself over the side of this house now…I think I’ll fall to the ground unharmed,” she added, gesturing to the large gap in the wall. “I can just…feel it in my heart.”

Though she already knew she was dead (had done for a while, in truth), it didn’t hurt any less to admit it. Admitting it out loud made it feel real, and like she’d made peace with it.

Henry offered a hand and drew her smoothly to her feet. His hand felt solid beneath her own, his skin soft and warm. All that was missing was a Cinderella ballgown and a string quartet, if it wasn’t under such tragic fucking circumstances.

He was so tall that he towered over her.

(a push of something in the back of her mind, a memory dislodged)

“Are you…like me, Henry?”

“I used to be, once.”

“But not now?”

“No. I’m something more than human now.”

He was watching her reaction closely and began circling, his eyes trailing up and down her body as if to memorise every minuscule detail. His gaze felt like a piercing arrow and she shivered as it struck hard against the target.

He was taking in her measure and she wondered if he would still be kind after he found her utterly wanting.

Something shifted within her chest then. This was not the ally (the protector) she had so desperately searched for, but he wasn’t an enemy either as she could still taste his food on her tongue. Henry must be something else then.

Chrissy remained quiet as his eyes flickered to the kissed-blonde curls that bounced free around her shoulders and then to her crumpled cheerleading uniform (suddenly so childish and silly now). He scanned her heart shaped face, watching as she bit down on her lower lip nervously.

Chrissy knew she was trembling like a fawn. She forced herself not to cross her arms against her chest.

Relentless. Those eyes were relentless.

(another tug at some far-off memory)

“You seem so familiar…” she murmured, finally breaking the silence. “...but I don’t know how.”

“Oh we’ve met before, sweet girl.”

“We have?”

“Oh yes, Chrissy. I know you exceptionally well. You could say I know everything about you - that I’ve made it my task to learn every thought, every dream, every nightmare you’ve ever had. I’ve been watching you for an exceedingly long time.”

He circled close (far too close) and her knees almost buckled. She could feel now the strong unmistakable power rolling off him in waves, surrounding him like a cloak and shield. The world - the hellscape - around them seemed to hold its breath, as though waiting obediently for his command.

Yes, Henry was something else entirely. Not human, not like her.

“Are you going to hurt me?” Chrissy whispered.

(she was so achingly beautiful when afraid)

There was a glint of something deep in his eyes. Something long-forgotten, something primal, something even he may not understand.

“I don’t want to…but I will if you anger me and leave me with no other choice,” Henry answered after a small pause. He used one of his long elegant fingers to lift her chin so she had no option but to meet his burning intensity. “...but if you're good, Chrissy, and follow my rules, then I will keep you safe. I swear it.”

She tried to swallow her fear. “I’ve never so much as broken a rule before. I promise, I won’t…I won’t do anything to upset you or make you angry, Henry. Please…I’ll be so good.”

“I know you will,” he said quietly. “You are good and honest…and so very lovely. You’re completely perfect.”

A bolt of lightning suddenly flashed across the sky and Chrissy whimpered.

Then her vision began to fade and she felt weary again. Her eyelashes brushed against her cheek as she tried (and failed) to keep them open. She could feel herself swaying on her feet.

In the distance, like an echo, she heard him say…

“You may go back now, Chrissy, and this time you will sleep.”

And the darkness consumed her.

Henry was as good as his word.

Chrissy fell into a peaceful and deep sleep, and when she finally woke up (hours or days later) she felt rested for the first time since coming to this nightmare. She stretched out across Eddie’s bed and felt her body respond in full.

Rested, as well as nourished from his offering of food and water.

She was not happy exactly, but she felt a little less like a ghost today.

Chrissy remained in the Munson trailer for a long time and it became a kind of base camp for her. It felt like a place of safety (as much as anywhere in this hellscape could) despite the daunting fact she had died there.

She spent her time exploring the rest of Hawkins but returned every evening to keep an eye on the abnormal window in the ceiling. She still had no idea what it was and the invisible barrier remained firmly fixed in place, but it was strange enough to draw her interest. And to keep her wondering…and thinking, hoping, dreaming.

She liked watching the flickering lamp inside. The warm glow felt just like the nightlight she used when she was a child and scared of the dark.

She read Eddie’s collection of second hand fantasy novels and peered through his record collection too - though she never dared to play anything (there were bat-like creatures in this world who she kept far away from. She had no intention of revealing her location and discovering if they were friendly or not, even if they couldn’t kill her. Nor did she want to lure the monster out - she was sure it was still lurking somewhere in the shadows).

There were plenty of weapons scattered about in this world, but what good would they do against a Freddie Krueger style monster? She was no fighter; she could hardly wield a sword or lodge an axe in its skull. She did keep a crowbar close by in case the bats bothered her, but otherwise drifted around unarmed and unoccupied.

She had no plans, no purpose. It was a contrast to her busy life where everyday was rigorously mapped out by her mom or Jason (they’d even planned her future - too bad for them, fate had other ideas).

Without someone telling her what to do, Chrissy felt very lost.

Henry Creel summoned her back to the derelict house in the same manner as before, just moments after Chrissy lay down and closed her eyes.

This time there was a big bejewelled bowl of strawberries and cream waiting for her. She almost fell on them in her hurry to wolf them down.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the attic was less filthy and gone were the cobwebs and spiders. Half a dozen large stuffed cushions had appeared out of nowhere and were scattered across the floor. She took the hint and perched against one as she ate her fill.

Henry was polite, attentive even, and he asked her questions about her former life - though she suspected he already knew most of the answers. As much as she tried to be cautious and keep up her guard, she was soon won over by his gentle manners and the elegant way he moved. At one point (while she rattled on about her mom’s punishments for overeating) he stretched out and propped his head back with all the grace of a visiting prince.

He was an excellent listener and sympathetic as he coaxed out more and more information from her. She almost giggled when he made a truly villainous suggestion of setting one of the bats on her mom. She didn’t see the glimmer of menace in his eyes, nor hear the unspoken afterthought of… and let them rip her apart.

“You’re perfect just the way you are,” he said instead. “I can’t imagine a more enchanting woman.”

He was always quick to flatter and compliment her and Chrissy felt herself glow under the attention.

She was still wary of him (how could she not be, considering the awesome power he wielded?) but at the same time she truly believed he meant her no ill-harm and wished for her to remain safe. She could read it in expression sometimes when he looked at her… and he did a lot of looking.

(she was used to men looking at her, had been ever since she could remember. She didn’t look away awkwardly like she did when alive. Instead she fixed him with a soft knowing smile, offering her permission)

She wondered if he was maybe just as lonely as she was. He told her he’d been trapped here for a long time (did this mean years or decades…maybe even centuries?) and her heart lurched at the idea of him suffering death all alone. Chrissy made up her mind that she would much rather be friends with Henry, then spend her time cowering in fear.

So she found herself confiding everything, and she told him about the strange window she found in the Munson trailer. She asked him what he thought it could be and was disappointed when he said he wasn’t sure.

(the next day she noticed an increase of creeping vines around the trailer)

“...but there’s no way back,” Henry added quietly. “You do know that, Chrissy? It would be best not to let yourself linger on hope, or you’ll be sorely disappointed. This is where you belong now. You should harden your heart and accept it. It would be easier.”

She was laying back on a cushion he’d summoned, her hair spread out beneath her like a halo.

“Do you think this is hell?” she asked after some time. “Or purgatory?”

“Those are human constructs. Foolish ideas to help the gullible sleep at night. A scale of morality to give them purpose, to steer them away from the harsh reality that all life is essentially meaningless.”

But she still thinks of this world as hell. Did that make the monster the devil?

Which begged the question of how she ended up here - she, Chrissy Cunningham, who had committed no crimes or acts of evil. She’d been pretty confident with her faith until a year or so ago when she began asking the big questions that made her pastor frown.

Maybe Henry was right. Maybe there was no right or wrong, or good or evil. Maybe none of it mattered. It was a little late in the day for existential questions.

Chrissy brought this up with Henry and she swore the corners of his lips twitched like he wanted to laugh. She found she didn’t mind.

“I don’t think it’s as simple as heaven or hell,” he said finally. “But I’m pleased you’re here at my side. I’ve waited a lifetime for you.”

Chrissy had long given up hope of finding anyone else here. Someone like her - mortal, vulnerable, powerless - someone just as torn apart as herself.

She fell into a simple routine of trying to get through the day (by reading, resting, cycling around the empty dusty roads) then spending her evenings with Henry. She found herself looking forward to their time together more and more and felt a sharp pang of disappointment in her gut when a night passed by and he didn’t summon her.

(she knew she was getting attached too quickly and Ms Kelley would label it unhealthy, but on the other hand she was already dead…so it seemed like a ridiculous thing to worry about really.)

She drifted through the days, almost willing time to speed up so it could be night already. Even the strange window in the trailer ceiling lost its appeal.

Chrissy was cycling down the main road towards the library (she needed a break from Tolkien) when a bright bolt of lightning flashed across the sky. She waited for the inevitable noise of flapping bats which always followed, but to her surprise everything remained impossibly quiet. Cautiously, she pressed on and…

…and saw a real life boy running down the road towards her.

She braked so hard she almost skidded over.

His name was Fred Benson and he recognised her right away. She recalled him distantly; a skinny boy who trailed after Nancy Wheeler at school. He was babbling so much that it was hard to understand anything at first and he asked a million questions all at once, his eyes wide and tearful. Chrissy did her best to answer them (with the painfully small amount of information she’d pieced together) and tried to keep her voice from shaking. She remembered how desperate and scared she’d been when she first arrived (died).

He told her about the car crash last year and his constant nightmares. He gripped the front of her uniform hard and warned her about the dark ruthless monster that stalked him. He wanted to go home to his mom (she would be so worried when he missed curfew) and could Chrissy please please help him?

Oh - her heart broke just then.

Chrissy let him cry against her shoulder as she oh-so-gently explained how that was impossible now…that she was dead… and I’m so sorry, Fred… but it looked like he was too. She watched as his face fell and crumpled with despair.

She took him back to the trailer to rest and offered him Eddie’s bed (though she knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep properly without Henry’s help - something else she would have to explain in time, along with all the other weird and unfair rules). Fred asked her if they could maybe stick together and visit his home tomorrow and she agreed kindly, before curling up on the couch.

That night she told Henry all about Fred. He looked happy for her, gifting her with a rare captivating smile. He knew all about her desperate search for another friend.

Chrissy grinned back, utterly radiant in her joy.

But when she woke up the following morning she found Eddie’s bed empty. She looked everywhere for Fred (even racing over to his house) but there was no sign of him. She dashed her bike against the road so hard the front wheel broke off.

She was still crying when Henry found her. He very gently tucked a loose curl behind her ear and murmured that perhaps Fred had simply ‘gone on’ elsewhere?

He told her everything would be okay, that she still had him. He would never abandon her.

“Do you promise?” she asked, her lips trembling. “Don’t ever leave me, Henry. Please. I couldn’t bear it.”

He swore it. He deliberately brushed his thumb against her cheek and captured one of her tears, bringing it to his lips.

(she would always have him. He had taken root beneath her skin now, whether she wanted it or not. She could not claw him out now.)

But it happened again. This time it was Patrick McKinney, Jason’s buddy from the basketball team. She knew Patrick, had hung out with him at senior parties and before practice.

He found her stocking up at the Starcourt Mall.

“Chrissy!” he had called, amazed at finding her whole and unbroken.

Chrissy laughed when he picked her up and spun her around. Later the tears came as she gently explained where they were and why (it was easier the second time round) - but overall he accepted their fate more readily than Fred. This time they went straight to Patrick’s house and she didn’t leave him for a second, worried that he'd vanish without a word. She even insisted on sleeping together in the same room and he didn’t mind after she explained about Fred. He swore he would stay with her. He would help her, protect her (he owed it to Jason). Somehow they would get through this.

They fell asleep holding hands.

(she was so distracted by his warm and sincere smile that she didn’t hear the rolling thunder and lightning, nor the vines pulsing like warning bells)

Chrissy jolted awake when she heard a loud terrified scream. Sitting up on the bed, she looked over to see Patrick being lifted up by a large monstrous shadow (its claws gripped his neck so fiercely that Patrick spluttered and choked, his legs dangling), but when she blinked again it was suddenly Henry Creel standing there, not a shadow. She hurriedly got to her feet.

“Henry…what’s going on?” she whispered. “What’s happening?”

Henry tore his eyes away from Patrick’s (gasping) face to glance back at her, but something was hopelessly wrong. Why was his face flickering like that?

He was panting, his chest nearly bursting with the effort it took to hold himself back (but from what?). She could feel the unmistakable pull of his great power as the air around them crackled with electricity. It was the first time she’d seen her friend look anything other than perfect and composed, and the first time she witnessed his otherworldly strength as he held Patrick aloft - as though he weighed nothing.

“I’m…I’m sorry you have to see this,” he hissed out. “But I have no choice…Patrick doesn’t belong here. It’s time for him to leave…just like Fred.”

Chrissy’s face twisted in anguish.

“But…can’t he stay? Please? He’s my friend!” She felt herself begin to cry. “I want him to stay.”

“Chrissy…I’m warning you…”

“You can do anything, Henry, please. Do this for me? Let me keep him, just him.”

His grip on Patrick’s neck tightened and Patrick’s eyes began to roll back. Chrissy cried out. She hung onto Henry’s arm before she could stop herself.

“Stop it! You’re killing him! STOP!”

But then Henry exploded with a roar that nearly deafened her. The force of it slammed her back against the wall.

Her beautiful ally and confidant Henry was gone. The monster from her nightmares stood before her now, its dark eyes blazing with pure unadulterated fury. She screamed and scrambled away, recoiling from its hatred.

The monster was shaking too. “I have warned you not to upset me, Chrissy. Don’t make me hurt you too!”

(she saw Patrick fall and slump against the floor, he was very still)

And it finally clicked into place that Henry Creel and the monster were one of the same.

Chrissy threw herself from the room before she could think. She raced down the stairs and ignored the screams and roaring behind her.

Heart pounding, she dashed out the house and into the crimson fog. The bats were hurtling around like a tornado but she dived through (her arms crossed above her head) and vaulted over the oozing vines. Her childhood home was nearby and she hurried inside, bolting the door as if a simple lock was strong enough to keep the creature at bay.

She huddled in her pink and white bed like a child, drawing the blankets over her head. She screamed and screamed as she hugged her knees close.

Patrick and Fred were gone and Henry was the monster who murdered her.

(how she wished a hero would come and save her)

Chrissy knew Henry would track her down, just as she knew there would be no point in hiding. She heard him rip the front door from its hinges and climb (slowly) up the stairs. He tore away the blankets and she held up the handgun she’d quickly grabbed from her dad’s safe…though hands were shaking so badly he easily knocked it aside.

She peered into his slimy face, the veins making her want to retch.

“I had to do it, Chrissy,” it said. “I don’t expect you to understand yet, but Fred and Patrick aren’t like us. They’re our enemies and would have ruined everything if I allowed them to walk free… so you see, I did it for you…for your safety. I promised I would protect you, sweet girl…”

“I want to go home,” she whispered, not really sure where home was anymore.

His gaze hardened. “This is your home now.”

She clasped her hands over her ears.

“I can’t do this…please, I can’t…I don’t want this!”

“You will stay here with me, Chrissy. Forever if I choose it, do you understand? YOU WILL STAY WITH ME!”

He screamed in her face, his breath hot against her skin. She felt herself flinch back in horror.

What choice did she have but to agree when the alternative meant inscrutable pain? This creature was her enemy, her captor. If she had a lick of courage, she would lodge an axe in its skull.

But she didn’t. Chrissy sat back and let it trace its claws over her throat.

Any semblance of normalcy vanished after Patrick. She was dragged back to the early days of her death, stumbling through the shimmering darkness as though mad with grief. She didn’t bother to leave the trailer or fill her days with semi-human pursuits. She just lay weeping in Eddie’s bed, trying with all her might to block out the godawful sound of Patrick’s neck breaking.

(she could smell Eddie’s shampoo on his pillow. It smelled like eucalyptus. Was this real or did she imagine it?)

In a low moment she took hold of Eddie’s beloved guitar and smashed it against the wall. She ransacked his tiny bedroom, using her nails to rip apart what she could. She used a pair of scissors to snip up the clothes she couldn’t force on her unwilling dead body.

Henry didn’t call her for a week, during which she grew ill and starved from hunger. She felt like she might die all over again from the stabbing pains in her stomach. Chrissy didn’t know if this was because he was still angry or because he wanted to punish her.

(she was well used to these underhand tactics)

When she was finally summoned (and put out of her misery), she was drawn not to the derelict attic where they had their usual tête-à-tête, but to what looked like giant blood-red ruins. Crimson mist and fog surrounded it, while thunder and lighting raged above. It perched high in the sky like a fortress with the entire town of Hawkins stretched out below. Everything here was covered in the same glittering dust and debris. The creeping vines oozed and pulsed with energy, forming a web around her. Trapping her.

At the centre stood Henry - the spider, the monster.

He was wearing Henry’s handsome face again. It was alluring and graceful.

He gestured lazily to a silver plate which held her usual fare of sweet treats and fruits and she loathed how easily she brushed aside her fear and dug in (if this were the Garden of Eden, and this the forbidden fruit, how quickly she would gobble up that apple and doom mankind).

Chrissy drank from the matching goblet but instead of water she tasted swirling red wine. She drank it down eagerly, though the bitter flavour made her wince.

Afterwards he held out something long and white. “I thought you might desire something new to wear. Don’t worry, you’ll be able to put this on. It’s my gift to you.”

She examined her cheerleading uniform and nodded her thanks. She was desperate to change into something new after being stuck in the same outfit for so long. Henry made no show of turning away and there was hardly a side room where she might change privately, so Chrissy shrugged off her clothing before him.

It had been a long time since her own pale flesh saw the light of day. She pulled the white dress over her head and smoothed the material over her tiny body, enjoying the way the silk pressed against her creamy skin.

It was a ravishingly beautiful dress. Long and sweeping, it was a dress that belonged entirely to fantasy and a long-ago world.

(she could not ignore the rush of gratitude she felt towards him. She felt better now her belly was full and her legs finally covered)

“You look like a princess.”

Henry moved at last and came to stand behind her. He tenderly brushed aside her hair before buttoning her up (how could he be so kind and gentle after brutally harming Patrick? Were these the same hands that clawed at his neck?). His fingers lingered at her nape and her skin burned beneath his touch.

He acted as if he were the groom, and she the nervous bride.

He untied the clasp of her gold ‘86’ necklace and tucked it away in his pocket. She didn’t dare breathe out.

“You are so very lovely and beautiful. You’re exquisite,” he said quietly, his breath against her ear. “I’m sorry if you were scared before. I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”

Was that a lie? He was her friend, wasn’t he? Her ally? She had confided everything to him.

“I was scared,” Chrissy replied softly. “I didn’t expect…”

“...to see me like that?” he finished. She nodded. “I can struggle with my temper at times, but Chrissy this is the real me. The other face…the face of the monster…you won’t see it again if you listen to me and do what I say. Can you do that?”

Chrissy found herself nodding. “I understand, Henry.”

“Look at me.”

She looked into his blue eyes (the same blue as a summer sky, or a calm sea) and utterly beguiling face. His eyes were half-closed, as though she were the sun and he was dazzled by her. Chrissy’s fingers itched to thread through his wavy hair and see if it was as soft as it appeared.

She didn’t want this face to disappear again. She would do anything (and say anything) to keep this version of Henry with her.

“Soon you’ll understand everything, I swear, I just need you to be patient for a little while longer, Chrissy. For now, just know that everything I do…it’s for you…for us,” he murmured. “As soon as I saw you, I knew you belonged here with me. I just knew it…”

He went on to spin her a tale of a broken and sad childhood where nobody really understood him, and all he ever wanted was someone special to confide in and love. Someone loving and sweet and honest. Someone just like her. He was painting her a fairytale and she found herself leaning towards him, eager to lap it up so she could feel less alone.

It sounded a lot like her own miserable shitty childhood. She too had been so lonely, so eager, to find someone (anyone) who saw her properly.

(her thoughts turned to a pair of warm brown eyes, to a mouth that smiled too easily, to a freaky man who noticed she was drowning and wanted to help)

Was Henry telling her the truth? Did he really hold her best interests at heart?

…and did it even matter?

What did lies or honestly matter to a dead girl? A dead girl (a ghost) who accepted gifts and kindness from the man (a monster) who killed her.

#hellcheer #hellcheer fanfic #eddissy #eddissy fanfiction #chrissy cunningham #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham au #hellcheer au #chrissy x vecna #chrissy x henry #chrissy cunningham x henry creel #mature fic #stranger things fanfiction #dubious consent #manipulation #vecna keeps chrissy #will get very mature in next chapter #cunningcreel

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yaraneechan · 11 months

Text

Played 1 round of disco elysium:

I love Kim, I would die for Kim

Okay boat lady has my full trust, I dont understand a word she said but she seems nice

First game death: Cuno called me a slur and I died. Been using drugs to keep my morale maxed out since, I'm still terrified of him

First thought i ever did is get your shit together from Kim and honestly mood

The working class woman oh my god. "Do you know where your husband is? Your children? Your cockatoo? Are you sure they're okay because these question options i can ask have made me very worried

.... if you had given me the option to ask her if its okay to hug her first I would've done it im shy I cant just hug her without asking

One time I started the game and there's a glitch that made kim act like he's on speed like he's much faster so when we're running around he's passing me that runs back to me over and over and runs around me in circles and I'm obsessed with that actually

I love cindy I would die for cindy, she hates me though which is fair

I passed the check of getting to ask the smoking balcony guy if he's gay but I choose not to because I thought it was rude. I MISSED THE GAY THOUGHT NOOO

I also got the horrible necktie and never wore it

The thing is my sense of direction is awful and I'm the last person who should be looking around an island for plasmid traps

Oh a car

Two bros ~whisling on swings ~5 feet apart cuz they're not gay~

.....oH MY CAR

MY CAR!

H?!?

lmao

Oooh this island has so much bottles I can collect for money * few minutes of bottle collecting later* ...Welp....working class womans husband is doopity doop drop dead

Kim while explaining the scene where the working class man is dead from alcoholism while surroundedby bottles: *stares at my bag* "....it would me insensitive to collect these". KIM! KIM I WOULD NEVER< says the guy who later wears late Renee's outfit to show to gaston

Okay, okay were gonna tell her that her husbands dead, okay sure, lemme just change my clothes- changes into everything with empathy modifiers* im ready lets go

*Kim starts cleaning his glasses signaling that ill be the one doing the talk ing* nonono Kim! Kim! Don't do this to me Kim pleASE

I did perfect...that was....that was...I need a minute....

....

Getting a green check and telling cindy about a really cool graffiti idea-cindy gets jealous- cindy its not like I couldve drawn it anyway please just gimne the brush

Thank you spoilers for letting me know about the chair I was PREPARED

Renee less monarchy apologism and more gay please you can do it i believe in you

Okay I dont have time so I'm just gonna skim through the cryptozoology dialogu- did lena just say something racist back up wAT

Second game death: awful sound gave me a heart attack

*Garte being polite and kind to me after the tibunal* finally! *immediately asks garte for a drink only for him to start the speech about him not having a shaker again* fuck you too Garte I boiled a corpse's shoes in your kitchen you deserve it

Welp I lost the dancing check at the church time to go to the tribunal *gets shot in the leg* great! i got enough points to try the dancing check again! kim, who's been looking after me for days: do not even think about it

"Give sculptures to lady?" "Yeah sure" "actually you can't, stupid task you took on there" fuck u

Gary "Sorry for being racist" was surprisingly direct about it, hm

Gaston told me that Renee died without his uniform which was at the cabin so I think 'oh ill get them and give them to gaston' 'oh I cant equip them, guess ill wear them' *Gaston gets upset and Kim is disappointed* 'oh I see where I went wrong now'

So After talking to Gaston and finding out that Renee died , i got a task to give Renee something, like he's not...-fine....anyway so I gave it to gaston and told him he's old and will die soon too so he'll give it to Renee for me in the afterlife I think

Promised soona that I'll talk with egghead but I tried everything and nothing worked i gave up

THE PHASMID????? AND WE GOT PICTURES! Woo

Asked Kim to work at my place and he was happy yeeeee

#disco elysium #mine #tw drugs mention #tw death mention

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mirisss · 1 year

Text

You Belong with Me

wordcount ≈ 7k

warnings: Siren hunt (aka, luring people into the water to take their souls so some people die though it isn’t really described), Jun threatening (Y/n), talking about someone’s existence being erased, sort of mentioning suicide (sacrificing oneself for others, though no suicide happens), Jun being crazy powerful, being on a boat, a storm, being out on the ocean, being underwater, possessive behavior, jealousy, biting, pet names (mostly darling), kidnapping, Stockholm-syndrome in a way, let me know if I should add anything else,

Pairing: Siren! King of the seven seas! Wen Junhui x afab! human reader

summary: After being attacked by mythical creatures of the sea, known as Sirens, one unfortunate human girl has caught the eye of the siren king. At first, it seems like death had been the better option, but maybe one shouldn’t be so quick at judging.

Please reblog! Requests are open!

Third person POV

“Guys, I really don’t think this is a good idea. The weather forecast said that a bad storm is going to break out in a few hours, maybe we should do this some other day,” “Oh come on, (Y/n), stop being such a scaredy cat. It’s fine, look, there’s not a single cloud in the sky, the forecast is wrong. This is going to be super fun!” Seungkwan was trying to persuade one of his best friends, (Y/n), that having a party on a Yacht, out on the sea, was a good idea. “Loosen up, (Y/n), nothing is going to happen. Dad’s yacht is sturdy, the captain has driven her through a storm before, so even if this storm breaks out, we’ll be fine,” Mingyu walked over and draped an arm around (Y/n)’s shoulders as a form of comfort. “Okay, but if something bad happens, just know that I was right, this was, and is, a bad idea,” And so the trio along with a bunch of other people boarded the yacht and left the pier.

As the party began, most people were happily drinking, dancing, eating, chatting, and who knows what else. But (Y/n), was just sitting on a chair with her untouched drink in front of her. She couldn’t shake off the bad feeling she had, and oh how right she was.

Deep underwater, in the lost city of the ocean creatures, the siren king, the king of the seven seas, Junhui was preparing for a hunt. His people had waited for a brutal storm to break out close to their hidden city under the surface, and finally, the storm was coming. Junhui was a powerful siren who not only held the power of his seductive siren song but also the power to rule the seven seas, from birth he had been gifted with immense power that the ocean seemed to follow, so even if Junhui had not been born into the royal family he was still crowned as the ruler once he was old enough. Junhui was a just ruler, his people admired his strength, as long as you kept on his good side Junhui would be the sweetest being in the world but make one wrong move and he would shift into the brutal siren who would destroy the world in the blink of an eye. “My lord, the storm is close. We should move out, the scouts have spotted countless boats close to us,” Jun turned toward Wonwoo, one of his officers and advisor, not to mention, one of his closest friends. “This is going to be quite the prosperous hunt, I can feel this entire body of water shaking at the rage of it,” Jun’s eyes shifted from his warm brown to their terrifying, glowing yellow, as the corners of his mouth turned up into a chilling and sinister smile, that revealed his white teeth and sharp fangs. “Let’s go, brother, it’s time to hunt,” Wonwoo gave a slight bow to his king before they both walked out of the throne room. Even though Jun had countless times told Wonwoo that he did not need to bow to him or call him ‘my lord’ or like, Wonwoo still did. Wonwoo was a man who followed all the rules, he is highly intelligent, which was one of the reasons why Jun had appointed him an officer and his first advisor. The siren king and two of his officers, Wonwoo and Soonyoung, had gathered 50 of their best hunters to go hunt for souls for the people. The sirens didn’t hunt for souls very often, at most 3 times a year, they had developed beyond needing many souls to thrive but every now and then, why not treat yourself?

Up on the yacht, the party was still going strong, most of the people there were too drunk to notice that the sun had been covered by angry dark clouds. (Y/n) was trying to find Mingyu or Seungkwan to tell them that they needed to turn the yacht around and go back to shore. As she went out on deck she felt the raindrops beginning to come down. Soon enough, the winds had picked up, the rain was coming down in sheets, making it difficult to see more than a few feet, the waves were getting bigger with every second, making it difficult for the captain to keep the yacht steady. The drunk people didn’t seem to mind it, (Y/n), however, were in a full-blown panic mood. The sound of the rain hitting the water was deafening, the occasional clap of thunder only adding to her worry, and the lightning strikes didn’t make it any better either.

“Mingyu! Seungkwan! Where are you?” (Y/n) tried to find her friends but they seemed to have disappeared. Suddenly, a particularly big wave pushed the yacht around causing (Y/n) to lose her balance and almost fall overboard, luckily she manage to grab onto the railing just in time. She looked down into the deep dark water, expecting to find nothing as the water made anything beneath the surface unintelligible, however, to her shock, she was met with the face of a person. At first, she thought it was someone who had fallen from the yacht, but she quickly realized that it was not a human, as the creature dove down into the water, (Y/n) saw that it had a tail instead of legs. She found more and more creatures popping out of the water, they were locating the different boats around the surface. Some began singing, it was a beautiful sound but (Y/n) couldn’t focus on it, no, (Y/n) was focusing on the way some people began moving closer to the edge of the boats, and then getting into the water. Once they had gone under the surface, they did not come back up. Suddenly, some of the creatures began climbing onto the yacht and other boats around them. (Y/n) was still sitting, frozen as she held onto the railing. One of the creatures had jumped onto the yacht, landing just a few steps away from her, the second that the female-looking creature had landed on the boat her tail turned to legs. She then began moving toward (Y/n), who was crying harder and harder, imagining that she would die here, on this stupid yacht. “Please, don’t, I don’t want to die. I beg of you, please don’t kill me,” The creature just looked at (Y/n), laughed, and then began singing her melody again, causing some of the drunk people on the yacht to come toward her, hypnotized by her song.

Junhui had stayed beneath the surface for some time, allowing his people to have fun. Jun did quite enjoy hunting, but his people enjoyed it far more, for some reason, he wasn’t that hungry for souls so he didn’t mind staying in the background. After a few minutes, he decided that it was time for him to join the hunt, thus also, signaling that it was ending. The second he broke through the surface of the water, he laid his eyes on a girl who was holding on to the railing of a boat, she was crying, begging for her life as one of his hunters approached. As the hunter came closer to the girl, the terrified human turned her head, and Jun met her eyes. Something in him seemed to click, suddenly he was overcome with a yearning for that girl. With a simple flick of his wrist, a large wave was created to swiftly move him up onto that boat, he landed right in front of the human, facing his hunter. The siren immediately stopped once she faced her king. “My lord,” The siren bowed, terrified of the look Jun gave her, “Leave,” Was all Jun said, though it was a low command, all sirens around them froze before beginning to dive back into the water. All 50 hunters had gone back under the surface within a minute of the king’s command, only leaving Wonwoo, Soonyoung, and Jun. Wonwoo approached Junhui but stopped the second his king glared at him, the look in Jun’s eyes was horrifying, his eyes glowed stronger than ever, his fangs protruding past his lips, the waves were crashing harsher and harsher against the yacht. Wonwoo understood that whoever the human behind the Siren King was, they were special and he nor Soonyoung were allowed to come close to them. “We’ll be leaving, my lord,” Wonwoo dove back into the water after signaling to Soonyoung that it was time to leave.

From the second that Junhui had appeared before her, (Y/n) had been mesmerized even though she could only see the creature’s backside. (Y/n) concluded that whoever this man was, he was of high status, the way everyone followed his command and not to mention, his robes. The black clothes with gold embroidered details screamed wealth and importance. Nothing could have prepared (Y/n) for the beauty of the man who had seemingly saved her. As the king turned around to face her, (Y/n)’s breath got caught in her throat, his well-sculpted face, his two-toned hair, though the detail that had her shaking was his sharp, glowing, yellow eyes that seemed to suck her in.

“Please don’t kill me,” Jun chuckled arrogantly at her begging. “Darling, if I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have sent my hunters away,” The siren crouched down in front of (Y/n) and he reached his hand out toward her face, “Please, don’t hurt me,” (Y/n) tried to hide her face away from the mysterious and handsome man, though her attempt was futile, he grabbed a hold of her cheek and turned her face back toward his own. “Once, again. If I wanted you dead, my hunters would have dealt with you,” “Then, can I go? Will you let me live?” Jun sighed before lightly shaking his head, for some reason he was filled with an unknown rage as the human asked if she could leave. “No, you are not leaving. You will come with me. I have spared your life therefore it now belongs to me,” He spoke with a malicious tone, one he rarely used unless speaking with someone who had broken the laws in his kingdom. “No, please, please let me go, please, I beg of you,” Jun grew angrier as (Y/n) kept asking to be left behind, his unstable emotions caused the storm to worsen, the waves became harsher and bigger, the thunder and the lightning seemed to come closer. Just then, Seungkwan came out of the yacht's lower deck, still very drunk, he seemed to have missed the hunt as the mysterious creature had called it. “(Y/n)!” “Seungkwan, help!” Seungkwan noticed the man dressed in traditional clothing who was crouched by his friend and he saw how scared (Y/n) looked as the man held her cheek in his hand. Jun didn’t need to turn his head to know that the man who had appeared behind him, was drunk, and no match for the siren king of the seven seas. Jun’s smirk grew as he snapped the fingers of the hand that weren’t holding onto (Y/n), causing a string of water to grab a hold of Seungkwan, lifting him in the air. “NO! Let him down,” (Y/n) tried to break free of the hold that Jun had on her, however, the second that she seemed to have been freed, the string moved Seungkwan to be held over the raging water causing her to freeze once again. “If you fight me, your friend will die, I will throw him in the water and my hunters will take care of him, and not in the way you would like. However, if you come with me, I will let him live. I will stop the storm, and calm the water. No one else will be hurt. It’s your choice, either you come with me, or everyone here dies and you still come with me,” No matter how angry (Y/n) was with Seungkwan and Mingyu for still going through with this yacht party even though she had warned them of the storm, she couldn’t watch him die knowing she could have saved him. “Alright, I’ll go with you, but I want proof of you stopping the storm and everything,” Jun smiled and lightly petted (Y/n)’s head. “Good choice, darling,” The siren snapped his fingers twice, the string of water moved back to be over the yacht, and carefully put Seungkwan down on the deck again. Seungkwan had passed out from the experience, or perhaps, that was also the doing of the siren. After her friend had been returned to safety, the rain began letting up, the thunder and lightning disappeared, and the waves became smaller and smaller, soon enough, the sky was blue once again, the sunset as pretty as ever, and no trace of the magical creatures were left, except for the man with the yellow eyes. “There, I returned your friend and stopped the storm. Let us go now,” (Y/n) was shaking like a leaf, both out of fear and also from the icy water that had rained down on her. “I can’t breathe underwater,” (Y/n) hoped that when the man remembered that she wasn’t like him, he would let her go. “Darling, I’m the king of Sirens, I’m the king of the seven seas, if I want to bring a human with me under the surface, then the water will allow them to breathe. The ocean follows my every command, so don’t you worry. It will be very kind to you, you belong to its king now,” (Y/n) swallowed the lump in her throat, there was no way out of this. She would have to go with this terrifying man, siren, siren king. (Y/n) wasn’t surprised to hear that he was in fact someone of royal status, but hearing that he was a siren only made her more afraid. Jun noticed the hesitant look on the human’s face, which once again awakened an unknown anger within him. “Remember, if you don’t go with me, I will kill your friend and everyone else around us right now and then forcefully bring you with me,” The sinister smile was still spread across his lips, (Y/n) was looking into his sharp eyes that made her dread for her life, though they were still so captivating that she couldn’t look away. “So, human, how’s it going to be?” “You promise no one else is going to be hurt?” “Yes, you have my word. I pride myself on being quite honest, it’s the best way to rule a kingdom,” “Alright, then I’ll go with you,” (Y/n) whispered out the last sentence, before she remembered another detail that might complicate this deal. “Won’t people come looking for me? And for everyone else who disappeared here today?” Jun looked around them before he clenched his jaw, making (Y/n) cling to the railing even harder, as he relaxed his jaw again, a foggy mist began covering the surface of the ocean, it made her feel quite sleepy. “This mist will make everyone forget who was out here with them or what happened, they won’t even remember the storm. As far as they know, the gaps in their memory are all because of the alcohol, and anyone who goes into the water with a siren is forever erased, no one will remember that you existed, and any photo you have been in will be rearranged so that you are removed from them,” “So going with you means that no one will remember me?” “Yes, however, it was inevitable, had I not stopped the hunt, then you too would have been a lost soul. Thanks to me, you get to live. I promise you, darling, with me you will be treated like a queen,” (Y/n) finally looked away from Junhui and her sad eyes landed on Seungkwan’s unconscious form that lay a few meters away, maybe it was a big price to pay for his, and hopefully Mingyu’s, safety but if she could save them then it was worth it. “Okay, I’ll come with you,” “Good, come on. Hold onto me,” “Why?” “If you want the travel to my kingdom to be smooth, then you’ll hold onto me, however, if you want to be thrown around like a piece of paper in the wind then you don’t,” (Y/n) did not like the sound of that so she let go of the railing and took a step closer to the man, whose name she had yet to know, and then lightly laid her hand around his bicep. “Hold on tight,” (Y/n) did not dare think he was joking with her so she did as he said, and held onto his arm as hard as she could. Jun put an arm around the human’s waist before he jumped into the water. (Y/n) couldn’t hold back the scream that escaped her, she wondered if maybe the siren had lied to her and she would die the second she went under the surface, however, she found that once the water covered her head and they kept sinking, she could breathe just fine. (Y/n) had always been quite afraid of the water, though now as she saw everything from beside the alleged king of the seven seas, it seemed quite peaceful and pretty. The way that all the fishes were floating around, the coral flowers that seemed so vibrant, and even the majestic whale that usually would have her fearing for her life, now just seemed so beautiful as it was swimming around. Jun looked down at the girl who was still clinging to him as they kept descending toward his palace, he saw the wonder, and admiration in her eyes as she looked around them. The siren felt a sense of pride at the fact that this little human was admiring his kingdom, his once cold and sharp eyes now softened and went back to their warm and welcoming brown.

A few minutes later, (Y/n) found a big structure on the bottom of the ocean, a large castle, or perhaps a palace, it was tall, and shining just like the scales of some fishes, though it was deep down, the palace seemed to shine as bright as a diamond in direct sunlight. “Woah,” “Do you like it?” (Y/n) was taken aback by the soft tone her mysterious kidnapper used, just a few minutes ago he was speaking so maliciously as he threatened her into following with him, now all of a sudden, he was speaking as soft as a person might do to a newborn puppy or a kitten. “It’s pretty but it’s not my home,” “It is from now on,” There it was once again, that sharp tone, the tone that didn’t leave any room for arguments. Jun himself didn’t know what this foreign feeling was, the yearning, the need to have this human for himself. Jun moved them toward the doors and once they were inside, they were met by Wonwoo and Soonyoung.

“My lord, welcome back,” Wonwoo, as usual, bowed to Jun while Soonyoung just smiled and sent a little salute to him, earning him a little nudge from Wonwoo. “Who’s this?” Soonyoung was far more interested in the human that was clinging to the side of his king than the king himself. (Y/n) immediately stepped behind Jun, using him as a shield from the prying eyes of the man who happened to be holding a sword-like weapon, and (Y/n) did not trust that he wouldn’t hurt her with it. Jun’s heart fluttered at the act, a warm feeling spread throughout his body, and his heart seemed to be doing a happy dance inside his chest. And that’s when it clicked, that’s when Jun finally understood why he had been so adamant about bringing the human with him. This little human was his destined soulmate. “That is not something you need to know right now. Besides, don’t the two of you have any duties to do?” Junhui spoke with a soft tone, these were two of his closest friends, there was no need to be sharp with them, or it was never needed with Wonwoo, with Soonyoung however, it was necessary every now and then. “Yeah yeah, we do. But I, or, we, was curious as to why you stayed behind and ordered us to leave so abruptly,” “Come on, Soonyoung, we are leaving his majesty to go carry out our duties. Do you wish to have your dinner in the dining hall or in your chambers? And will your guest be needing dinner too?” “Thank you, Wonwoo. In my chambers, and yes, prepare food for her too, make sure it is something appropriate for humans,” “Of course,” After that Wonwoo dragged Soonyoung away by the collar of his shirt. “Alright, you can come out again, they are gone,” Junhui couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation, if the human was supposed to be afraid of anyone, it should be him yet she had opted to use him as her protector. (Y/n) carefully stepped out from behind him to face him once again. “Sorry,” “It’s alright, I understand. We sirens can be quite intimidating, though I promised you, didn’t I? that you would be treated like a queen?” “Well yeah, but I don’t know how sirens treat their royals,” “Mostly, we treat them similarly to how humans would, except, we rarely ever indulge in wars and we have never had someone trying to overthrow the one sitting on the throne. If the ocean has acknowledged a person as the ruler, then that person will become the ruler without question,” “So, basically, you’re a very peaceful species that hunt humans?” “I know that the part of us hunting humans isn’t ideal but there was a time when we needed to hunt souls every single day, now we only do it 2-3 times a year,” “I still don’t understand why you kidnapped me,” “I’ll explain that soon, let’s go to my chambers first, you’re still cold from the rain, you can warm up in there, it’s the warmest room in the entire palace,” “Alright,” Jun began leading the way and (Y/n) followed him, she figured that if she were to live her she might as well make it easy on herself and not fight her siren captor. “Um, could I ask you a question?” “You just did, darling, but of course, ask away,” “How come there is no water inside the palace? Or do I just not notice it?” “There is no water inside, despite what some people believe, we sirens are not only creatures of the water but we are also creatures of the land. We can live both in the water and on land, however, we prefer to live under the surface yet keep our homes dry, hence there is no water inside the palace,” “Oh, I’ve always heard that sirens and all other mythical beings of the water only lived in the water,” “Well, that is the truth for some like mermaids and merman, they need to be in the water 90% of the day, while sirens can go without a drop of water for a month, after that we will begin showing scales until we have to go back in the water,” “I thought sirens and mermaids were the same things,” “We’re similar to each other, but very different too. Mermaids don’t have our captivating song, nor do they have the choice of choosing between a tail and legs when in the water, on land they too can have legs but the second a drop of water touches them their legs turn into a tail. Sirens, like you just saw me doing, can keep our legs when swimming or we can choose to have a tail too. And, sirens have more powers than mermaids in general,” Just as (Y/n) was about to ask another question, Jun stopped and (Y/n) walked right into him. “Sorry,” “No worries, I’m quite sturdy, I can take a hit or two. Anyway, here we are, my chambers,” Jun opened the doors and gestured for (Y/n) to walk inside.

“Woah, it’s so big!” “Haha, yeah, fitting for a king don’t you think?” “Definitely, it seems like something out of a fairy tale,” “Come on, let’s sit down on the couch,” Jun led (Y/n) over to what seemed to be the living room part of his chambers. The two sat down, not too close to each other but still quite close. “Um, could I know your name or am I supposed to call you ‘my lord’ or something?” “My name is Wen Junhui, you can call me Junhui or Jun. May I also know your name? Or, well, hear it from you, your friend kind of already spoiled it earlier,” “My name is (Y/n) (L/n),” “Pretty name for a pretty girl. Now, I’ll explain to you why I brought you here,” (Y/n) turned so she was facing Jun and he moved to face her. “When I emerged from the water and I saw you, something in me appeared, a feeling, a yearning, and all I could think was that I needed to have you, that you belong to me, with me,” “So you became obsessed with me from just seeing me once?” “No, not really. In a way yes, but I didn’t understand it first until we came here, just like wolf-shifters, also known as werewolves, have predestined soulmates, so do we, though sirens rarely find theirs and we can live without them, however life with a soulmate is much better,” (Y/n) pointed to herself, “And, I’m your soulmate?” “Yeah, I’m sorry about how I acted. I rarely ever go full malicious siren but seeing you awoke some very strong instincts in me,” (Y/n) saw how sincere Jun was as he looked into her eyes. “It’s okay, you did scare me, but since we came here to the palace you seemed soft so I’m not as scared now,” “You shouldn’t have any fear of me, I would never hurt you, not intentionally at least,” “What does it mean, being your soulmate?” “Well, usually soulmates end up becoming a couple, but sirens can suffice with just having them close by as friends, though I am going to have to mark you, which means I have to bite you somewhere,” (Y/n) looked possibly terrified at his last statement. “Bite me?” Jun awkwardly scratched his neck as he looked away from (Y/n). “Yeah, it’s unconventional but from what I have heard it usually doesn’t hurt too badly, though it depends on where the mark is placed,” “Would I have to be with you as a romantic partner?” “No, I wouldn’t force you to be that. I would love it if it became that but if you don’t want that, then it will be enough just having you around the palace as my friend,” (Y/n) pondered for a few minutes over what Jun had said. “I can’t promise that I’ll fall in love with you, but I’ll give you a chance. Do you have to bite me now or can we wait a little?” “Thank you, I promise I won’t waste this chance. And I will have to mark you within a week, I wish it was longer but with me being the king my instincts are heightened and the stronger the instinct, the sooner the mark has to be placed,” “Alright, well can we wait until a week has gone by?” “Of course, no pressure,” The two continued getting to know each other while sitting on the couch. Suddenly, (Y/n)’s eyes zeroed in on Jun’s hair, when they were on the yacht his hair had been two-toned, part blonde, part black, however, now it was fully blond. Without thinking, (Y/n) raised her hand and touched his hair, Jun sat frozen as the human petted his head, her lips turned up in an innocent smile and her eyes glimmered with happiness. When (Y/n) suddenly found her senses again and realized what she was doing, she quickly removed her hand from his face. “Sorry, your hair just looked so soft and I was wondering, wasn’t your hair a different color when we were above the surface?” “It’s alright, darling, you can touch my hair whenever you want, and, yes, when I’m in my full siren mood, and above the surface my hair is two-toned, while under the surface and when I’m in my civil mood or whatever I should call it, it’s fully blonde,” “You look really handsome with both,” “Thank you, you are very pretty,”

And so the next couple of days went by, the king and his soulmate got to know each other, and perhaps a spark of love was starting to kindle between the two. Jun had given his bed to (Y/n) and he himself slept on the couch, it was comfortable enough for him, and he just needed to let his maids prepare a guest room for (Y/n). And before they knew it, 7 days had passed and it was time for Jun to mark (Y/n).

*knock knock* (Y/n) knocked on the door to Jun’s office, not wanting to just barge in while he was busy. “Come on in,” “Hey, how’s it going?” “Good, I’m almost done for the day. Just, umm, 3 papers left to sign,” “Sweet, Wonwoo asked if we wanted to eat dinner in the dining room or here in your chambers and I might have answered for you,” “That’s alright, I’m fine with eating in either room,” (Y/n) let out a sigh of relief, “Okay, that’s good, I said we’d eat here,” “That sounds perfect,” “Okay, see you later,” “Bye, darling,” (Y/n) left the office and went back to the living room where Wonwoo was still waiting, the human hadn’t actually answered him yet but she didn’t want Jun to decide for them, however, she didn’t think Wonwoo would take her word seriously unless it was a ‘message’ from the king. “He wishes to have his dinner here, and so do I,” “Of course,” Wonwoo bowed before he turned around, ready to leave, yet he was stopped by (Y/n). “Wait!” “What can I do for you?” “Um, do you know anything about marking?” “It is not my expertise, I’m afraid, though I do know someone who knows a lot about it. If you want, I can send him here to talk with you. I understand that you must have many questions and that you might not wish to ask his majesty,” “If you could send that person I would be very grateful,” “As you wish,” “Wonwoo, you know you don’t have to speak like that with me, right?” “Of course, but it is out of respect for my king that I do, his majesty is one of my closest friends, however, when I am working he is not my friend but my king, and you are his soulmate, ultimately making you our queen, and right now I am working therefore, I must speak this way with you,” “You really treasure this job, don’t you?” “Yes, I love it,” “You’re very good at it, thank you, Wonwoo,” “No problem, (Y/n). I’ll have Jihoon stop by so that you can ask him about the marking and everything,” Wonwoo gave (Y/n) a kind smile, before bowing once again and then leaving.

Not even a minute later, a knock landed on the door and (Y/n) ran to open it before Jun noticed it. Once she had opened the door she was met with a man who was significantly shorter than most of the other men she had seen around the palace, though he still held a lot of authority in his presence and he was jaked with muscles. “Hi,” “Hey, I’m Jihoon. Wonwoo said that you had some questions regarding marking,” “Yes, I’m (Y/n). Please come in, though be a bit quiet, I don’t want Jun to know about me asking about this,” “I’m afraid he already knows,” “What? How?” “He’s the king of the seven seas, he hears everything that’s going around in the castle, especially things involving his officers, or his soulmate,” “So, he can hear our conversation now?” “Not exactly, it’s more like he can hear when someone speaks outside of his chambers, the second someone says his name, your name, or one of us officer’s name then he can tune into the conversation,” “I think I understand, anyway, I don’t think we have too much time before he is done with his work for the day,” They sat down on the couch, (Y/n) was very nervous, while Jihoon seemed as cool as a block of ice. “So, what are you wondering about?” “Um, well, does it hurt? Being marked,” “It varies from person to person and also depends on the placement. Some people have a higher pain tolerance and therefore it doesn’t hurt as much, others have a lower pain tolerance and for them, it will hurt more. Placement can also vary from person to person but most people choose to be marked on the spot right where your shoulder meets your neck, it’s usually somewhere in the middle of the pain scale, however, it is one of the more intimate spots which is why many people like it, others go for the wrist or the ankles, it’s not as intimate and usually doesn’t hurt as much, and finally some people go for the thighs, it’s one of the most intimate spots, however, the pain level is very uncertain. I know of some who said it didn’t hurt one bit while others screamed for hours from the pain,” “Woah, Wonwoo wasn’t kidding, you do know a lot,” “Yeah, I studied soulmates and marking when I was younger, it is also a part of my duties here in the palace, to give advice regarding soulmates and relationships,” “I have one more question. How will the mark affect me?” “The mark is powerful, not to mention a mark from the king, however, the mark can’t create feelings, it can only intensify pre-existing feelings, so if you do not have any romantic feelings for Jun, the mark won’t change that. For a few days, you will need to be close to Jun while the mark is settling down, if you are too far away from each other for longer than 5 minutes, you will feel sick and be in pain, however, the mark will settle down in 3 days and once those days have passed, the mark will not bother you anymore. The mark has a function that allows Jun to know when you are in danger and it also allows him to know where you are so that he can find you and protect you in case anything happens,” “So, it won’t change me in any way?” “No, it won’t,” “Thank you, Jihoon, I think that’s all the questions I had unless you can think of anything else to say,” “No, that’s all. Fortunately, our marks are not as complicated as werewolf marks. Well, I’ll take my leave then. Say hi to the king from me,” Jihoon waved as he got up from the couch and then left the king’s chambers.

Seconds after Jihoon left, Jun emerged from his office with a lovesick smile. “Hi, darling,” “Hey, Junnie,” Jun looked around, a little confused, “Jihoon was here?” “Uh, yeah,” (Y/n) answered shyly, a blush creeping up on her face. “I guess Wonwoo sent him here so you could ask about the mark, right?” “Yeah, he did,” “You know you could have asked me,” “I know, but I couldn’t because I didn’t want you to know about it,” Jun walked over to (Y/n) and leaned his forehead against hers. “I understand, well, did Jihoon answer all your questions?” “Yeah, all the ones I asked,” “Okay, have you made any decision?” “Not exactly, I know more about it now, but I don’t want to make the decision without you,” Jun stepped back to look (Y/n) in the eyes. “I’m not the one that’s going to be bitten and possibly go through pain, so my opinion really doesn’t matter,” “Of course, it matters, it will be intimate no matter how you look at it and that affects us both, so it’s not a decision I can take on my own,” “Darling, during this week I have fallen in love with you, it’s affected by the pull I feel toward you but as I assume Jihoon explained, it can’t create feelings, it’s all you, so whatever you decide I will do,” “But what if it changes everything?” “What would it change?” “Us,” “Honey, (Y/n), darling, it won’t change anything unless you want it to,” “But what if I already feel something for you?” “You feel something for me?” “How could I not? Jun, you’ve treated me better than anyone ever has, you’re so sweet and nice, not to mention handsome, and I just, and I think I understand why the universe paired us up,” Jun took a chance and leaned in to kiss (Y/n), he put his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him. Their bodies were pressed together, their lips locked in a fiery embrace, time seemed to stop and they were the only two people left in the world, and it really seemed like fireworks went off as Jun’s happy emotions set off some electric currents in the room causing sparks to appear around the couple. (Y/n)’s heart was beating so fast that it seemed like it would break through her ribcage any second, she didn’t pull away until her lip got caught on one of Jun’s fangs, it didn’t pierce her but it did wake her up from the moment. She was heavily out of breath and she held a hand to her lip as she whispered out an ‘ow’. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you? Are you bleeding? Should I call for a doctor?” “No it’s fine, I’m just not used to kissing someone with fangs, sharp fangs, I’m not bleeding, it’s just throbbing a little,” “Here, an ice cube to keep it from swelling,” Jun snapped his fingers and then a small ice cube appeared in his hand that he gave to (Y/n). “Thank you,” (Y/n) took the ice cube from his hand and held it against her lip.

“Alright, now that we have the first kiss out of the way, why don’t we go back to talking about the mark?” “Yeah, we should talk about,” “What are you most worried about, (Y/n)?” “The pain, I think” “I understand that, pain is scary, I’m sure Jihoon told you that the wrist and the ankles hurt the least, always, the thighs, are a gamble, and the shoulder’s somewhere in the middle if you wonder about any other placement just ask,” “What I’m wondering the most is actually, where would you like to mark me?” Jun’s eyes soften even more, his heart happily fluttering at the fact that (Y/n) wanted to make him happy. “I don’t really care but I’d prefer a more intimate spot, so not the wrist or the ankle, though it is up to you,” “After thinking about I think I would want it on the shoulder,” Jun’s smile brightened as he hugged (Y/n) once again. “That would be perfect,” “So, when are you doing it?” “After dinner, the bite takes up a lot of energy, you will feel very sleepy after it and you will need the energy from the food, it will help you feel less pain. Jihoon didn’t tell you this?” “No, I’m sure he didn’t because I hurried him along,” “Don’t worry, I’m not angry, I’m actually surprised, Jihoon rarely ever misses these things,” “Maybe he didn’t, I think he might have left that out intentionally so that you could tell me,” “He probably did,” Jun pecked (Y/n)’s lips again, “I love you,” “I love you too, even though you kidnapped me,” “Hey, would you have come with me had I not kidnapped you?” “Um, probably not, or actually who knows, maybe I would have met you somewhere else? I mean, just because I wouldn’t have remembered you or that night doesn’t mean you wouldn’t have, right?” “Yeah, that’s true but I’m also afraid that my instincts wouldn’t have let me leave without you. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you belonged to me, um, with me,” “Is that also a siren thing or is it a Jun thing?” “What is?” “The possessiveness, the ‘you belong to me’,” “Both I think, it’s definitely a siren thing but I can’t say it isn’t a me thing either,” “Well, luckily for you, I don’t mind it as long as it doesn’t turn into anything worse than you saying that,” “It won’t have to, once my mark is on you no creature in the world, except for humans I guess, would dare try anything with you,” “Give me another kiss, my king,” “As you wish, my queen,” And so Jun gave (Y/n) another breathtakingly passionate kiss that had them both lost in the moment.

Please reblog! Requests are open!

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keithisbae1 · 2 months

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The Mershark & Mermaid - Part 9

Sasuke was different from most sharks, despite being an Uchiha his appearance was… unique and not like his family. At a young age sharklings were to go further into the deep given to other sharks to be fed and tested, if they were weak then they would die or more specific eaten by the mersharks. If they were strong then they would escape and live. As the years progressed more and more sharks were hesitant on keeping such a trial, especially when there were more and more humans about.

They couldn’t go extinct from one another and who’s to say the sharklings wouldn’t grow strong in their own time. Uchihas were few of the sharks who continued this method, plucking out the weak as they were the strongest of mersharks. And Sasuke was no exception, despite the protests from his mother Sasuke had agreed to go through this trial. He wanted to get stronger and knew this would be the only option. And if he were to die, then he was simply not made for this life and maybe he could finally escape Itachi’s shadow.

What they didn’t know that day was that there were humans right above them. Dumping a load of toxic waste. At the time Sasuke was struggling to keep himself awake, the sharks were taunting him, attacking him with their tails and tossing him around like he was some toy. Their claws would scratch him leaving him all bruised and battered.

He thought he was finished until something had distracted them, it had entered the deep sea and that was when he knew this was his chance and attacked them. Sasuke didn’t feel or notice anything that day, too preoccupied in fighting for his life. To stay alive.

He had bitten two of them, scratched the eye out of another and headbutted another in his way. He was able to escape and swim back home safely. He had completed the trial, to make it out alive in an area infested with mersharks.

The sharkling couldn’t wait to see the look on his dad’s face, he could finally acknowledge him. Sure, he was beaten up badly but that was to be expected, this was proof that he could get strong. Until he fainted when he saw his parents.

When he woke up Fugaku had told him how proud he was however Mikoto was different, it was heard sometime later that within a few days the mersharks that were trying kill Sasuke were dead. The humans had gotten to them first with poisoning their land, and now it would only be a matter of time before Sasuke was taken away from them too, or so they thought.

Sasuke had come down with a fever with his wounds being fully exposed to the toxin, his life was in danger. He would scream and cry from the pain, but death never came, instead his appearance had changed. His greyish scales turned darker and black hair changed into darker blue and grown slightly longer. Even his tail which had used to be blue turned purple and he grew slightly bigger too.

It had seemed mother nature was tired of those two-legged creatures’ always taking and taking and finally allowed them to adapt. And Sasuke was one of the few lucky ones to be chosen. As his fever broke Sasuke had never felt so alive but was also terrified with how different he looked now compared to his parents. Was this really a good thing?

“Of course, it is son, you’re the first of us who have been chosen to adapt. Overtime this will be the norm.” If that was what his father had thought then it must be true, right?

“Oh wow, you look so different.” A younger Sakura swam around the sharkling inspecting him. She swam closer to touch his longer blue hair, it had only been two weeks since they last met. Did mersharks really grow so quickly.

“So soft.” Sasuke tsked swatting her hand away from his which only made her giggle in response, and she swam playfully around him until she was upside-down right in front of his face. Has no one ever told this mergirl about personal boundaries?

“How could you tell it was me?”

“Silly, I can always recognise you. You can’t escape me that easily.”

Maybe it wasn’t just the adrenaline keeping him going that day… maybe… just maybe… deep down he wanted to live again so he could see her, Sakura. Sure, she was a mermaid and not someone a predator like him should be friends with, but she kept him going. Made his day brighter and always smiled at him despite knowing what he was. Who he was. She had no ounce of fear and he admired her for that.

Whatever this is they had, it was worth fighting for. Was this why he was chosen?

“Sasuke? Oi, Sasuke?” Sakura had snapped him out of his thoughts watching him closely.

“You spaced out all of a sudden, are you okay?”

Why were these memories resurfacing? Ah well, it didn’t matter now. None of it did.

~~~

Boruto’s Mama was a very sweet mershark, happily welcoming Sarada to their cave. She almost reminded Sarada of her own mother with how gentle and kind she was. “Make yourself at home dear, Boruto is always bringing his friends’ home.”

“I was going to bring you a fish to make up for it.” Except Sarada had to wonder… would she have shown this same kindness if she knew who she was? Boruto had mentioned that his Papa and hers were close friends, so were they safe? Could she tell them?

Mitsuki seemed to know about her because of his parent, for some reason and she couldn’t put her tail on it, that didn’t sit right with her. Like it was someone who shouldn’t know and be wary of.

“I also must apologise for my son again for telling such lies, I mean really Boruto what were you thinking. You shouldn’t go making up such rumours, how would your uncle feel?”

“But it’s the truth I swear!”

So graceful and again there was her size, like Karin’s. Mama was tiny in comparison to them, especially to Papa. How can the two of them look so different and be so… so… in love? She didn’t know what love looked like but could see there was something there with the way they looked at each other. The same look Aunty Ino and Sai had or Shikamaru and Temari but at the same time it wasn’t there.

Well, Papa did hurt Mama. Sarada reasoned, maybe that was why.

“You must be hungry with all the playing, Boruto can be over the top. I’ll see if we have any leftovers.” She ignored her son’s protests.

“Th-thank you so much ma’am but… I can’t stay. I need to go…” She wouldn’t be able to stomach eating fish and that would be a big giveaway to them.

“Don’t be shy dear and call me Hinata, I promise it’s no trouble at all.”

“No-no, I’m sorry I really can’t stay. My Papa is looking for me, I need to go.” She couldn’t stay with them much longer, they seemed so nice and kind, but Sarada was having so much anxiety. If they knew the truth, would they eat her?

“We can take you home Sarada, right mom. It’ll be safer for us then.” No mershark would dare go near sharklings with the parents about or in some cases knowing who the parents were. If it would get back to them they would only be digging their own grave.

“I can’t, I’m sorry.” And Sarada quickly fled before they insisted some more, although both Boruto and Mitsuki followed knowing it wasn’t safe for her to go alone.

“Boruto! Mitsuki!” Hinata tried to call going after the three, but they were out of sight.

What a strange sharkling, maybe she is…

She could only hope the two of them made it sure she got home safe.

~~~

Sarada kept swimming and swimming, she had to get away from them and find her parents. She felt bad for leaving and being so rude but the more sharks she came across the more likely she would be discovered. “Hey, hey. Wait up!” Yet it didn’t seem like Boruto would give up, he was even catching up to her. How did he swim so fast? The sharkling swam in front of her blocking her from going anywhere.

What the-

“How did you…”

“They don’t call my grandpa the Yellow Flash for nothing.” Boruto grinned smugly. Although that didn’t really answer Sarada’s question seeing as she had no idea who the ‘yellow flash’ was. Maybe they were a powerful mershark.

“Why are you leaving? My mama could have taken you home. It’ll be safer to go with her, plus it’ll be getting dark soon.” It would be too risky for her to go out by herself, if she couldn’t find her parents in time then who knows what other kind of sharks or sea creatures would be lurking. Boruto once being a young naïve sharkling almost ended up in danger and if it wasn’t for his father being there, he wouldn’t be here now.

“I can take care of myself.”

“It’s because she can’t find out she’s Sasuke's daughter.” Mitsuki explained, which only made Sarada glare at him. Wasn’t he the one going on about how Boruto couldn’t be trusted with secrets?

“Eh? But you told me she wasn’t Uncle Sasuke’s daughter.”

“Have you not heard of the story?” Mitsuki asked ignoring both glares now being sent his way, considering Hinata was giving Boruto a stern lecture. Despite how she looked, she could be scary.

“What story?”

“About a mershark and mermaid that mated, then they had a sharkling and decided to keep it a secret.” Eh? Sarada was confused, that wasn’t what happened. Well, not entirely. Her own Papa didn’t know she existed until a couple of days ago.

“That’s a lie!”

“Oh…” So Sarada was that sharkling?

“Um, is that a bad thing?” Mitsuki could only facepalm, didn’t they have this conversation the other day when he thought Neji was with a mermaid.

“Yes, mersharks are meant to eat mermaids, not mate with them. They’re our prey.”

“So… you are going to eat me?” Sarada looked at the two in horror, and here she thought she could trust them. That they were different and wouldn’t hurt her.

“No way, we won’t eat you.”

“But he just said-”

“It is true, mermaids are eaten by mersharks but like I told you, I want to see what kind of shark you are. I won’t say anything, and we won’t eat you.”

“Yeah, we’re friends now and friends don’t eat each other.” Friends? Were they? They had only just met and yet he was talking like they knew each other for years. Boruto was strange but she felt at ease with him. “And this is Uncle Sasuke, he knows what he’s doing.” Boruto nodded his head with his claws crossed completely confident in what he was saying. Except he had no idea on what he was doing, neither Sasuke or Sakura knew what would behold Sarada’s future. Was she better off with him? Sakura? Or away altogether from both sharks and merfolk. It wasn’t like they had planned to have a baby and keeping Sarada a secret would be impossible.

“So what’s it like?”

“What’s what like?”

“Being a mermaid and mershark, do you have any special powers?”

“It doesn’t work like that Boruto…” Mitsuki sweat dropped.

“Aww there’s got to be something.”

“Well, we know she doesn’t eat fish and can’t hunt.”

“Hey!” There was no need for teasing her, the other two laughed as they swam about. Sarada starting to feel more at ease with them, maybe it wasn’t so bad being here. That is until a bigger mershark started heading their way, the three were too engrossed in their conversation that no one noticed until they spoke.

“Mitsuki, I expected you to be home by now.” Said little one froze and bowed his head to apologise.

“Sorry, I lost track of time.”

“Sarada, get behind me.” Boruto instructed/ whispered, and she did, hiding behind him the best she could. She had recognised him as that scary shark that her Papa was talking to before. So, this was Mitsuki’s parent? Yet he seemed much more friendly.

Unfortunately, her presence didn’t go unnoticed by the shark.

“And who is she?”

“She’s… our new friend?” Boruto tried to sound as casual as possible whilst being in defence. “She’s also really shy, she literally swam away from me and Mitsuki when we first met.”

“I see,” Orochimaru stared at her to which she flinched but tried to remain calm, if they didn’t say anything then there was no need to worry.

“Hi,” Sarada squeaked but didn’t give much eye contact.

She seemed so familiar, aha so that was why... and that was when an idea came to him.

This would be fun.

“Is that so? Maybe you should invite your new friend to ours, it would be rude not to.” At hearing that both young sharklings froze, Orochimaru had to know something.

They had to think of a plan and quick.

I want Mama and Papa.

#sasusaku #sasuke uchiha x sakura haruno #sasusaku fanfic #ssfanfic #sasusakufanfiction #mershark/mermaid AU #mershark Sasuke #mermaid Sakura #mershark Sarada #need to do an update on this aaaaah

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courfeyracs-swordcane · 6 months

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for rico: 1, 2, 5, 7, 14

1. What is your character's biggest fear, and how does it affect their actions and relationships?

HOOOO. she is simultaneously terrified of being close to people (mortifying ordeal of being known is a kind of power she doesn’t want anyone to have over her) and also because then she’s got weaknesses that can be used against her (girl who is determined to never watch anyone she cares about die ever again and has resolved to accomplish this by not caring about anybody anymore.)(top ten methods that Don’t Work and also then she fucks it up anyway but that’s kind of a long story)

There are other Big Fears but I’ve been typing forever (did these in reverse order) so I will come back if any of them stand out in my brain as an “oh god how could I forget that one”

2. What is something your character is deeply passionate about, and how does it drive their goals and motivations?

Okay I don’t know if it counts but besides the obvious. Going all in on the Decepticon cause (twice!), most of her goals and motivations are driven by her need to Move Forward? She pushed really hard on the idea of defecting once she’d heard some of the arguments— less for the idea of Leaving the Decepticon army and not even a little for the idea of joining the Autobots but for the sake of Seeing What Else Is Out There! Her and the whole unit (not Dyker. That’s a different problem) had spent their entire lives so far in one (1) building and/or ship (I don’t know that we ever decided where this was set?), they were built for the war effort and they work for the war effort and she believes in what they’re fighting for wholeheartedly but also it seems like a good idea to get some Contexts so she can have that identity and also know what it means!

And then from then on she goes BACK to the Decepticon army to climb her way up the ranks (well. She goes back bc she’s lonely and that’s where the only family she has left is, which ends the Worst Possible Way It Could Have for Her Specifically, and THEN she dives into climbing her way up the ranks) and she gets like. A normal amount and then fucks it all up reaching for too much (thinks she’s high enough up to get away with trying to assassinate the guy that killed Reefer. She Is Not.) and goes all the way back down to the bottom and also beat half to death about it. But she is not discouraged! (Yes she is.)(She got a lot of issues from that whole shebang.)

And then the war she was literally built for ends. And she’s on the wrong side. And megatron renounces the decepticons and tells them to all go their separate ways. And she has literally nothing to do with her life anymore. SO. she decides that She Is Going To Restart The War And Finish What He Started RIGHT this time. This also. Does not end well for her. I forgot what the question was I think I’ve strayed pretty far from actually answering it but here’s a plot summary

5. Does your character have any hidden talents or abilities that only a few people know about?

She was a medic for a while!!! Token guy in the original unit who knows how to do first aid and then when they all defected and Reefer (her platonic/familial Other Half) died and she dropped Hadron (her younger brother who she never really got along with and whom she is blaming all of this on because it was technically his idea in the first place and the other option is blaming herself) off with the Autobots she fucked off to go find some like. do transformers have Doctors Without Borders. Something like that.

7. How does your character handle failure or setbacks? Are they resilient or easily discouraged?

OH BOY HOWDY. she’s basically a series of failures in the shape of a girl (in the shape of a backhoe) and she takes them all Really Really Badly but also she hasn’t died yet, so 🤷‍♂️ (her main coping mechanism is throwing herself headfirst into whatever new questionable decision she’s making so she doesn’t have to look at her complete and utter lack of self-worth)(this goes. About as well as you might imagine.)

14. What is your character's preferred method of self-expression? Do they have any artistic talents or creative outlets?

God that would go a long way towards fixing her, wouldn’t it. No she does not but Roughhouse HAS 100% made the squad do Paint Nights on multiple occasions. She’s not good at it and it haunts and vexes her.

#rico robobs #THANK YOU WYATT THIS WAS FUN #CRINGEFAIL GIRLBOSS MY BELOVED

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celestial-citrus · 2 years

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ok so that sounds totally rad but unfortunately even though I love viddy games I am terrible at all of them and ive heard hk is SUPER hard so I'd probs die too much to get to the cool story 😂

ouuughh yea it's pretty hard. people who do no-hit or no death runs terrify me. i dont think im ever gonna try steel soul. (steel soul is like hardcore mode, one life permadeath deal)

well, any other lore i can think of is: before she went into her deep sleep, one of the three "dreamers" i mentioned before said she would only do it if he gave her a child, so PK and her had the one character hornet together. (she's the pointy one with the pinkish red cloak) so she's half sibs with ghost (the tiny dude you play as) and the hollow knight (the really tall pointy one).

there's another character you run into every so often named quirrel. he's very inquisitive and friendly, but he's still skilled with a nail. (nails are the weapons most of the bugs seem to use, you get to upgrade yours throughout the game.) he was the apprentice to one of the other dreamers monomon she was like a knowledge keeper of sorts. he wandered out of the kingdom and lost his memory (as all bugs do apparently when they leave hallownest) and he came back later and you meet him.

my favorite place in the whole game is the city of tears, the music and the whole vibe is so melancholy and sad? like that's a huge reason i love the game, the worlds already over and everything is empty and gone. you only see and hear echoes of what used to be. :\ the city is raining perpetually and it's a deep shade of blue, the architecture is pretty too.

i like to stand in front of the statue and listen. it's very peaceful. i have the top pic as my lock screen.

bro idk the game gets me so emotional, it like touches a specific part of my soul. it's beautiful. (id highly suggest listening to the whole soundtrack on spotify or whatever platform you use. ive joked w myself if my story ever got some sort of adaption id like christopher larkin to score it. lolol as if)

one part of the game i haven't really done is the pantheon of hallownest, it's like... you fight the bosses you already have again but... worse. and harder. also the path of pain, it's a really difficult platforming uh, puzzle/map i guess. you get a special cutscene when you complete it. i haven't gotten far at all in it. 🥲 i really want to complete it though.

the bosses are pretty difficult, but once you really get the pattern down pat and get a set of charms you like to work with, it's a lot more tolerable. speaking of that, you can acquire these things called charms which give/boost certiain abilities. you have a limited amount of "charm notches" to fill. i think the ones i like best are quickslash (well, makes your nail quicker), weaversong (gives you little weaver ((spider)) buddies who can damage enemies for you, and sharp shadow. (you gain the ability to dash through things, and equipping this charm makes it so you can damage them too.)

my first round playing HK was a disaster because i have never really played these kind of platform-y boss fight games before. just getting out of the first tiny area in the flipping game was a chore. but then i worked my way up and have beaten one of the hardest bosses twice, so thats... good. i suppose..

oh another thing i should mention if you have options in the game for different endings, depending on the things you pick up, enemies you defeat, and how you fight HK at the 'end' of the game. there's technically like, six endings in total? like you can either kill HK and absorb the infection yourself, enter HK's mind and kill the radiance, have hornet assist you in killing HK and getting you both sealed inside- etc etc.

one sad little part of the game is on one area, the crystal caverns, you meet this little miner bug myla. she sings to herself while she mines, but visiting her over time as the game goes you can see her getting taken over by the infection until eventually at one point she attacks you and you have to kill her :(

one challenge you can do is this pkace called the colosseum of fools. its has 3,,, uhh,, levels i guess you can do. i've only done the first 2, ive always gotten overwhelmed right before the end of the third one. you get geo (hallownest's currency) and some other rewards, like a piece of pale ore you need to upgrade your nail. it's basically wave of enemies and the terrain changes to make things difficult, like having you jump on platforms and putting spikes on the ground.

anywho, a really good person to watch on youtube is mossbag, he does a lot of lore videos, and there's a mod called hollow knight randomizer which is reallllyy funny to me. i'm probably forgetting a lot too lololol

thanks for asking me about stuff 🥺💗

#ask #hk

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simplysable · 2 years

Text

I lost the post because I accidentally deleted the draft instead of posting it, but the request was asking how the Resident Evil lords would react if their S/O was screaming for their help, but instead of something deadly, it was a little bug. This one goes out to all my arachnophobes <3

How Resident Evil Lords Would React to Their S/O Screaming for Them… Because of a Spider 🕷

Alcina Dimitrescu

“Alcina! Alcina, please help! It’s gonna kill me!”

You just wanted to break open a nice vintage that was in the kitchen, but then you saw it

Oh Jesus Mary and Joseph you were gonna die

The spider was fucking HUGE

It had so many legs.. and too many fucking EYES-

You didn’t think a Romanian tarantula would manage to worm its way into the castle but it’s here and you’re petrified

“Alcina!”

Alcina bursts in, claws unsheathed and golden eyes murderous

She looks around the room, sees nothing except for you, white as a sheet, staring at something in the room

She bends down to you, claws still out, and tucks you into her side

“What’s wrong, dearest? Was it the man-thing Mother Miranda was talking about? A stray lycan? Heisenberg?”

She was ready to kill any of the three options in a heartbeat

You, the light of her light, pointed to the corner of the room and trembled in fear

…it was a spider

You screamed for her, terror in your voice, because of a spider

She pats you on the head and goes to the spider, scooping it in her hands and throwing it out the window

She just kinda looks at you

“Listen, Alcina, I’m sorry for overreacting, but spiders terrify me. I have the diagnosed phobia and everything! Sorry if I made you worry, but-”

She was a little annoyed at first, but you really did have a diagnosed phobia of spiders

“My dear, there’s nothing to worry about. Next time, simply yell for a spider.”

Donna Beneviento

Donna was MORE than ready to make anyone who dares hurt you have the worst high of their life

Torture, murder, close family member’s deaths, paper cuts dipped in lemon juice hallucinations were just the tip of the iceberg

She heard you scream for your help, and she sent Angie in to see if you were hurt

“HaHAHAHAHAHA! Donna, you gotta see this, I’m dying!”

Donna stepped into the room and saw Angie on the floor, howling with laughter and pointing at you

You were in the corner of the room, shock-still, tears streaming down your cheeks and skin paling as a Romanian tarantula climbed over your head

She could sense the panic attack from all the way over there

She stepped over Angie and gently took the spider off your head, throwing it out the window calmly

She frowned at Angie, who was still laughing, and she crouched down in front of you

“It’s alright, my love. It’s gone now.”

Donna practically carries you to your rooms, and she lays you down as you come down from the adrenaline

“Wait here. I’ll set something up that kills any spiders that dare cross into our home.”

She did that

She ALSO had a very stern talking to with Angie, who was very guilty afterwards

Salvatore Moreau

He feels so bad that you’re so afraid of a little spider

You’re not afraid of him, but you’re afraid of a spider?

It confuses him, but he doesn’t make fun of you for it

Actually, he tries to make you see that spiders aren’t that bad

“See, love? I’ll just move him over here, there! He’s not doing anything.”

Sal will get books from Alcina or Donna all about spiders and tell you all the good things they do

“A lot of spiders eat mosquitoes! I know you don’t like those, either, so that’s good!”

“This one, right here, is very fluffy, and they get scared very easily. I don’t think it could hurt you if it tried.”

If you’re still really wary of spiders and ask him to stop because he’s scaring you, then all the books are gone

He buys weird spider repellent from the Duke

He lets in an extremely strange lycan who, for some reason, only likes to eat spiders, into his land

There will be NO spiders in this place, thank you very much

“I’m sorry love, I just wanted you to feel more comfortable with them.”

He tried to make you less afraid and that’s what made you feel better

Karl Heisenberg

He comes in running, every sharp piece of metal floating around him as he looks for what’s attacking you

“Kit, what is it? It’s in the corner- OH WHAT THE FUCK!?”

Turns out that Karl Heisenberg

A man who uses dead bodies in his experiments

And on occasion for fun

Who has the ability to manipulate metal

Has an army at his disposal

And is arguably the most fearsome lord in the village

Is afraid of spiders

He THROWS every piece of metal at the spider and hauls you over his shoulder, not looking back

“Kit, we’re staying in Alcina’s basement for the next week so I can have the place checked for spiders. I can afford it, don’t worry.”

Alcina was not pleased to find Heisenberg in her wine cellar (you, she could tolerate)

“Honestly, Heisenberg, you’re acting like a child! Go back to your damned factory and do whatever it is you do. You Y/N, are free to come over whenever you like.”

Both of you just kinda… huddled together for the rest of the day, looking for spiders

“Heis, is that a spider?”

*metal goes flying*

“No, that was a dust bunny.”

“So, spiders, huh?”

“Shut your mouth Kit, you acted the same way.”

After the factory is declared spider-free, you go to the Duke to buy a fly swatter, hairspray, and a lighter

“Ah! Would you be interested in this fine memory?”

The Duke has somehow got a picture of you and Heisenberg huddled together on your bed, covered in fluffy blankets, terrified, in a silver picture frame

“Free of charge!”

I hope you like this, and sorry for taking a while! Spiders! Ew! My asks are still open, btw <3

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wri0thesley · 3 years

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Nat. NAT. I just saw your concept about naoya "training" his wife by just throwing her in the room and just watching her struggle to defend herself... Until she ofc breaks and begs him to protect her🙈 you have a MASSIVE brain, the biggest and horniest brain nat can you please write this concept for the event😭😭 maybe w 45 and any other dark or spicy add ons that you see fit!

traditional discipline - naoya x fem!reader (3.3k)

naoya has had enough of you, and resorts to an unusual method of discipline.

warnings: not sfw/minors dni. DARK CONTENT. unhealthy relationship/marriage. fearplay, dacryphilia, finger-sucking, cock-sucking, punishment, threat of violence and death. dubious consent. afab reader with fem pronouns.

[a/n: this concept literally wouldn’t leave me alone. i’m sorry to all of the readers who are naoya’s wife i’m always so horrible to them]

The room goes quiet as Naoya hauls you out of it by your upper arm.

It’s an easy mistake, a simple slip-up; accidentally talking over your husband. But it’s one in a slew you’ve been making recently, despite Naoya thinking that you were polite and well-bred and knew your place. He’s sick of it, to be quite frank; he doesn’t have time to be correcting you when you should already know how to behave.

You’ve done accidental, small things since the two of you were married. Denying him when he rolled you onto your back at night. Not standing quite as far behind him as you should. Pouring tea for other people before him. He’s given you swift reprimand with both his words and his hands, but . . . it’s clearly not sinking into your pretty little head, is it?

He warned you about this.

“Next time,” he’d growled to you, when you’d laughed too loud at a joke that one of his brothers had made and not laughed at one of his, “I’m going to teach you a real lesson.”

He tells you about the ‘training and discipline room’ on the Zenin estate later that night. A room that the family use for honing cursed techniques, both for practising and for learning purposes, when someone needs to be brought down a peg or two. It’s full of cursed spirits – all the way up to grade two, which makes your blood run cold.

Of course, you have cursed energy. You even have a careful little technique; one that would wrap your enemies up in vines, if you’d ever been allowed to train to use it for anything other than keeping your well-appointed garden neat and orderly. Naoya would not have married someone without either of those things, lest they not bear him fruitful children--

But you have never been allowed to use it for anything more.

The women of your clan are pretty decoration, with no need to learn anything other than how to behave and how to please their masters-and-husbands. You would be useless, thrown into the den of the wolves like that.

“Please don’t,” you’d said to him, your voice all soft and gentle, trying to be appeasing. “Please. I promise I’ll try harder.”

Naoya had taken your chin between thumb and forefinger, the grin across his face very sharp as his light eyes took in the pleading in your own gaze. You remember how the light had hit his earrings, the look of satisfaction at your begging and having you utterly and completely under his thumb.

“Be good,” he’d breathed, all slow and drawling. “And I won’t have to, will I?”

And he’d bid you to get on your knees for him and show you just how good you could be. Starting with your mouth.

So you know where he’s dragging you, down the labyrinthine halls of the estate. You try and pull back, feet sliding on the tatami mat, your voice pitching as you say;

“Naoya, please, I’m sorry--”

“Women should be seen and not heard,” he says to you. “Don’t make a fuss like that. You earned this.”

Your eyes are filling with tears, hot fear clawing its way up your throat.

“I’ll do anything,” you say to him, despite knowing that it’s a dangerous bargain to give him. He almost considers it for a moment, pausing – but then, his fingers just dig harder into the softness of your bicep (you’re going to bruise), and he tugs you.

“You’re making a scene,” he says. “If you don’t stop, I’ll leave you in there even longer.” You try to wrench your arm out of his grip, all of your self-defense mechanisms going into overdrive as you recognise the door he’s leading to you too. You’re breathless, so frightened you think that your heart might stop.

Naoya opens the door and pulls you in. You almost stumble at the flight of stairs, but he clicks his tongue at you in annoyance.

“So clumsy,” he drawls. “And here I was, under the impression I was marrying a graceful, lovely, credit to her family--” More steps, until he’s gotten you in the middle of the floor. He gazes around him, and you hear the low hum of a hundred cursed spirit’s voices murmuring the same things, over and over again. “The only time you’re a credit to them is with your legs spread.”

“Naoya,” you whimper, torn between pushing yourself into him for the comfort and protection that you know he can offer, or trying to tear away from him and escape the room yourself. You know the second option won’t work – he’s far faster, far stronger than you – but it’s hard to think of anything when you feel like your very survival is teetering impossibly over your head.

“If you run,” he says, still in that cold, uninterested drawl, “I’ll break one of your ankles.”

You don’t think he’s bluffing. Naoya says a lot of things, yes – but he’s also reckless and proud enough to mean them. You stand there, next to him, feeling yourself begin to tremble.

“W-why aren’t they attacking yet?” You ask him, voice very small. He looks at you pityingly.

“They’re afraid of me, obviously,” he says to you, very slowly, like he’s explaining it to somebody very stupid. “I didn’t get this good at everything by not training myself, darling.” He lets go of you, finally, a whistle escaping his pursed mouth as he rocks on the balls of his feet. He’s supremely unconcerned by your fear. “When I’m gone, they’ll come out for you.”

Your eyes fill with tears.

“What am I supposed to do?” You ask him, desperation leaking into your cracked voice. “I can’t—I can’t protect myself--”

Naoya narrows his eyes.

“You should have thought about that before you were such a pain,” he replies. And, without further ado, he turns around and begins to ascend the stairs again. You turn with him, moving forward, stumbling in your haste and ending up sprawled at the bottom of the stairs with your hand pathetically fisted into the hem of his hakama.

He looks down at you with a disgusted sneer on his face, and you hate that even with that expression his features are still unmistakably handsome.

“Let go,” he says. “Have some dignity.”

“Please,” you repeat. You can feel a fat tear spilling from the corner of your eye down the curve of your cheeks. You know the ‘dignity’ statement is a dig; the fact that you’ve heard his family members calling your clan power-hungry undignified gold-digging whores, but you can’t bring yourself to care when you can see the beginning of shadows spilling out too far into the main floor of the room. “Naoya. Please.”

He kicks out at your wrist, face twisted in distaste, and you let go to avoid it being stood on and crushed under his strength. You cradle it against your chest, looking up at him still all desperate and afraid.

“If I helped,” he said to you, “you’d never learn your lesson.” He takes a step up and turns away completely from you, as if you’re nothing more than an ignored child on the street. “It will be good for you, beloved wife. Character-building.” You hear the smirk in his voice and you hate him.

You want to strangle him. You want to beg him to protect you. You want to tear him limb from limb, but you want him to let you bury your head in his chest as he dispels the spirits with ease. You want--

The door slams shut behind him. He’s too cheerful as he throws behind him;

“Good luck!”

And you are left alone.

It takes a moment before anything slithers out from the shadows, and you clap your hand over your mouth to stop yourself screaming. The first cursed spirit is a hunched over creature with the face of a Pierrot clown, mouth stretched impossibly wide with gaping black abyss where eyes ought to be. It’s whispering something over and over to itself, but the wide mouth is so crowded with teeth that it comes out as an incomprehensible noise, dripping drool as it begins to move horrifically slowly towards you.

Oh, God. You’re not supposed to look at them, are you? You dimly recall something about many sorcerers wearing glasses so the creatures can’t tell where their gazes are, but this one has already got the scent of you; those dark pits staring at your crumpled form.

Everything you’ve ever been told in passing about jujutsu and cursed spirits and cursed technique just seems to flow out of your mind to be replaced by mind-numbing fear. You’ve not been trained for this; when your clan had arranged your marriage with Naoya, you know that they’d expected fine silken kimonos and traditional food and you being a pretty trophy on the arm of the future leader of their clan. You know they’d be horrified if they saw what was happening.

More of them are melting from the shadows, the whispering and moaning reaching a terrifying crescendo. You’re trembling. Your heart is beating so fast inside of your chest you think it might break free of your ribcage and sputter out onto the floor.

The Pierrot monster is close enough that you can see the six hands it drags on the floor are all tipped with claws that are sharp as blades. You scramble up the stairs on your ass, too afraid to turn your back on the creatures. You realise you’re shouting, but it seems just as blurred as anything that the cursed spirits are saying. You’re crying, too – howling, whimpering, so scared you’re surprised any noise is able to come out at all.

You’re going to die.

It hits you with cruel certainty as you reach the top and throw your weight at the door, only for it to not give an inch. You scramble at the heavy wood, not caring about your careful manicure (Naoya wants you to be a credit to him, and that means manicures and facial treatments and a fancy bathroom full of soaps and creams that he expects you to use and that he slathers, too, on himself). You hear a nail break but you can’t bring yourself to worry about that when the Pierrot monster is dragging itself up the flight of stairs, one step at a time. It makes a hideous sliding thump, like it’s both wet and heavy – and you notice, too, the scent of blood invading your senses.

Your tear-blurred eyes can see all of the other monsters, too – not quite as close, but still too close for comfort. Too many eyes and not enough eyes, too many legs, claws and teeth and misshapen bones and blood leaking from holes. What are you supposed to do?

Naoya has left you here, alone, to teach you a lesson. You hadn’t realised the lesson would culminate in your death, but with all of the spirits so close to you, you cannot see any other way.

All of the fight goes out of you and you sag against the door, a broken sob escaping your lips. Your throat is dry from hoarse screaming.

You are going to die. You hope it will come quick; you hope the Pierrot monster will tear you limb from limb and you’ll die in instants from the shock. Your voice whispers Naoya’s name one last, hopeless time.

Will he find another wife? Will they even bother covering up your death, or will they spin some rumour or lie to your family and the whole of jujutsu society that you brought it upon yourself?

You would do anything to be rescued right now. You would crawl on your hands and knees behind Naoya for the rest of your life, refer to him only as ‘Master’, fulfil every single thing he ever asked you with no more than a meek nod of your head. Pull out your tongue so you couldn’t make any more mistakes.

But the time for pleading seems to have gone entirely, and you are useless and stupid and weak as you run out of tears, eyes burning. All you can do, you think, is wait for death.

The door swings open behind you and you’re dragged backwards, onto tatami, by powerful hands gripping your shoulders as it closes once more with a massive clunk that echoes in your ears--

And you find yourself strewn out on the floor, face caked with dried tear-tracks, a trembling, pathetic mess looking up at your husband’s face.

He leans against the door, listening to you scream. He can hear his name mixed in with sobs and screams and pleading; saying that you’ll do anything, you’re sorry, you’ll never disobey him again you’ll take any punishment he metes out with a smile on your face, if he just helps you. He hears you call yourself weak and pathetic and useless around the tears clogging your throat; he hears the thump of you hitting the door and the sound of your nails scratching down the wood, uncaring of anything other than getting away from them.

Yes, he thinks as he opens the door for you and you fall, shivering and sobbing, in front of him. Yes, he thinks you’ve learnt your lesson.

You’re so pretty, he thinks, closing it once more (he sees the cursed spirits begin to creep back to where they came from at the very sight of him, now their preferred victim is protected), with your eyes all glassy and wet. You’re extra pretty looking at him like he’s a conquering hero who’s saved you from certain death – which he supposes he is.

You cling to his arm, pulling yourself up, burying your face in his chest as your hands cling to him like you’ve been lost and he’s the first familiar thing you’ve seen in months. Your tears soak his kimono, but . . . he finds himself not really minding, as big, lean hands pet you gently on the back.

“It’s alright now,” he soothes you, murmuring low. “Your husband has you.”

“Please, please, ‘m so sorry--” You’re mumbling into him, whimpering, your shoulders shaking. “Please never m-make me, again--”

“Shhh,” he continues, gently beginning to move towards his chambers. You cling to him, adrift in a sea of your own fears. “It’s better now. You’ll be better now, won’t you?”

He receives a fierce nod for that, your fingers twisting into his clothing. It’s nice, having you so wrapped around him; seeing him as the strong protector that he knows he is but you needed reminding of. You’re still mewling little pleas into him even as he unlocks the door to his bedroom and gently pushes you in. Letting go of him even for a moment seems to cause you physical pain--

Good. You should feel like that. You should feel incomplete without him at your side. Naoya rewards you with a rare, soft smile.

“You know why you had to be punished like that, don’t you?” He purrs to you, petting your hair and carefully drawing back so he can look at your face. Your lips are all swollen from crying and biting; he thinks you’ve never looked quite so kissable as you do right now.

“Yes,” you nod, fiercely. “I’m sorry. I’ll do a-anything, I promise. I . . .” You swallow, your eyes filling with tears again. Naoya has been hard since the moment he heard you call out his name from inside the training room, your voice filled with choked tears, and watching them well up again does nothing for the stricture against the fabric. “I needed you.”

“And I saved you,” he says, arching an elegant brow – to which you nod again, and your hands drift towards him like you’re aimless without him in front of you to serve. “I’ll protect you, darling, as long as you learn your place.”

“I will!” That’s said with such conviction that he can’t help the smirk that tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I will. N-Naoya . . .” Your voice trembles a little. “’m willing to do anything for you. J-just please . . . not again.”

“Shh,” he reaches out and deigns to touch you, to gently and soothingly rub his thumb over your cheek, where the tears have dried. “If you’re really going to be so good for me, I won’t have to, will I?” You stumble forward onto your knees and Naoya’s brows shoot up in surprise as your hands tug at his hakama.

“Please let me show you how grateful I am,” you whisper, your eyes wide and bright and desperate. “Naoya, please, please, please--”

Oh, there’s something so gratifying about you like this, begging to suck his cock. It stirs between his thighs again, reminding him that he’s painfully stiff; and you are here, a willing mouth, scared out of your skull and desperate to please him. He’s smirking at you but you do not register it as such; all you see is the smile of your rescuer.

Your protector.

Your husband.

“Say what you want to do to me, darling,” he tells you, keeping his voice as sweet as he can make it. “You’re a big girl. You can use your words. What do you want to do, to show me how grateful you are that I saved your paltry life?”

You’re pouting; your mouth is sweet, pretty. He wants to pry your jaw open and fuck the back of your throat, and his body roars as your fingers tug on the hakama again and your meek, soft voice whispers;

“Please let me suck your cock.”

“You have a dirty mouth,” he coos to you, leaning forward to brush a finger over your lower lip. “Not befitting of a woman of your station. I suppose that means that it’s up to me to keep you quiet, hmm?”

You obediently open it, letting his finger gently rest on your tongue for a moment.

Desperate to please, your mouth closes about it, your tongue gently swiping over the pad, your cheeks hollowing a little as you suck on the digit inside of them. Naoya’s smiling again, the victorious grin of someone who’s gotten exactly what they wanted. He pulls his finger out and thrusts back in with two, whispering to you;

“Do you think you deserve my cock, after what you put me through today?”

You shake your head, but you don’t stop lavishing attention on the fingers in your mouth, a string of drool falling from the corner of your mouth as he presses his third finger inside of it. So warm, and wet. He needs his cock to be inside of you or he thinks he may embarrass himself.

The fingers are pulled out, wiped on the hakama fabric, before he says (the carefully adopted tone almost disinterested);

“Take them off, then. Don’t make your promises empty words. I wouldn’t appreciate such thoughtlessness in a wife.”

You’re eager, stripping off his clothes. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of his cock; elegant, flushed, hard and straining with a light upwards curve that he knows will hit you in the right place at the back of your throat to make you gag.

“Wait,” he says, as you lean in to bring him to your lips. “What do you say, darling?”

Your eyes (still brimming with tears, he notices – and fuck, he loves how you look teary-eyed and pouting. He has to make you cry more often) meet his, but the look in yours is worshipful so he doesn’t chide you for having the insolence to meet his gaze directly.

“Thank you,” you breathe. “For saving me. For letting me suck your cock. For everything.”

Naoya is smiling.

“Good girl,” he says, placidly, as you place a delicate kiss on the head of his cock and slowly envelope it in the warmth of your mouth. “Very good.”

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wordsfromthesol · 3 years

Text

Hunted

Author: @wordsfromthesol Taglist: togasbetch malfoys-demigod pricetagofficial Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Summary: You're a detective at Bludhaven PD with Dick Grayson and when a serial killer your after starts hunting you down, you have no choice but to ask for his help. Warnings: Kidnapping, stalking Word Count: 2.3k

You had been working at Bludhaven PD for about 2 years before the hotshot Dick Grayson came on the scene. Though you had grown into friends or at least friendly coworkers…he annoyed the shit out of you. After all, everything seemed to come so easy to the pretty boy Grayson and you could count the number of times you had actually seen him at the station on one hand. Thankfully this happened to be one of those times because you had run out of options.

"Dick, can I get your eyes on this case? I'm been staring at these files for hours and can't find the pattern. Yeah, they've obviously got a type. But that's not enough to go on."

Dick briefly runs through the file before staring blankly up at you. "You can't be serious, right? You need to take yourself off this case."

"People are dying, Dick." You had already assumed you would get some pushback from the star detective.

"I can't let you go after this guy. You're an exact match to all 5 people they've killed." Dick attempted to reason with you, to no avail.

"Then I'm the exact person who should go after this guy. Rather it be me than some civilian." Finally, Dick relented and gave you some useful information.

"Well…everyone was taken near an abandoned subway line." He takes out a highlighter and marks up the map. You tried to mask your nervousness as the bright yellow line stopped a block from your apartment.

"Thanks…I didn't even notice that." He nodded, still apprehensive about giving you the information, as he handed the file back to you. Tucking the papers away, you decided to finish up the research at home.

As you sauntered home, you were barely able to keep your eyes open. Stopping at the crosswalk, you noticed a man staring at you in your peripheral vision. You swore he was the same man from five blocks ago. Surely you were just paranoid…right? You began weaving in and out of the crowd, making a complete circle back to the crosswalk. Yet there he was in the corner of your eye. This wasn't paranoia. This was real. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and pressed Dick's contact card.

"Hey, uhm…remember that case we were talking about today?"

"You mean literally 20 minutes ago? Yeah, I remember."

A nervous chuckle escaped your lips, "Well you were probably right." Dick could hear the shakiness in your voice.

"He's following you, isn't he?"

Your current situation momentarily left your mind as the words tumbled out of your mouth, bypassing the brain. "How the fuck could you possibly know that?!"

"Don't go home. I'm coming to get you." You wanted to plead with him to stay on the line, but your stubbornness got the best of you. Slowing your pace, you attempted to stay in the crowd and walked straight. How was Dick even going to find you? As soon as the thought danced across your mind, there he was, as if you summoned him from thin air.

"Y/N!" The familiar voice called out from the street. A deep sigh of relief flooded over you as you trotted over to him. Crawling on the back of the motorcycle, you didn't bother asking where he was taking you. Anywhere was better than here.

"Wow. Just wow." Dick shook his head in awe as he climbed off the bike, ushering you into the apartment building.

"It's not like I planned it." You tried to force the uneasiness from your voice.

"Right, of course not. You realize he had to have been following you for days now, right? He knows where you live. You can't go back there." You hadn't really thought about that, yet where were you supposed to go? You looked at him pensively, unable to form a proper sentence. "Looks like you're staying here then." The alacrity of the statement caught you off guard.

"I can't just --"

"Right right. So let's go antagonize the serial killer. Genius." The sheer amount of sarcasm took you aback, this was a completely different side of the infamous Dick Grayson than you were used to.

You glared at him as he opened the door to his apartment. "So dramatic…besides, someone has to stop him. He's already after me, so I'm the perfect bait."

Dick's eyes went wide. He looked at you like you had three heads before bellowing, "ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT!"

"Do you have a better plan?" Part of you hoped he would begin rattling off some convoluted trap. One that didn't hold your life in the balance.

"Well…not yet. But I'm sure we can think of something. Give me a few days."

A few days came and went and you were losing your mind in Dick's apartment. The worst part was, you were never alone. Dick or one of his family members was always by your side. You weren't quite sure how some 14-year-old kid was supposed to do anything if said serial killer showed up, but Dick was insistent.

Finally, you caught a break. Jason, your latest babysitter got called away on some emergency and Dick wouldn’t be home for another hour. Of course, Jason informed you to tell Dick he left just moments ago, which actually worked in your favor. You dialed Captain Holt on your phone and began to strategize. The captain wasn't keen on using you for bait either, but eventually, you swayed him. Everything was planned to take place tomorrow afternoon, a time Dick just so happened to be testifying in court.

"Y/N?" The confusion spread across Dick's face as he opened the door.

"I'm here!" You called out from the bedroom before stepping into sight.

"Where's Jason?"

"Oh, family emergency. But he left like two minutes ago. Nothing to worry about."

"Okay…" Dick didn't sound convinced.

"I also got a call from the captain today. He wants to meet with me tomorrow at 2." You tried to play it off as a casual request, but you knew it wouldn't be that simple.

"What? Why? We still haven't caught the psychopath…plus I have court tomorrow."

"Dick, I'll be in a police station. You can drop me off on your way."

Dick let out an exasperated sigh, "Fine. But I don't like it."

You were absolutely terrified, but you tried your best not to let it show through. After all, you asked for this. Dick still seemed uneasy, even as he dropped you off at the precinct. You wondered if he could tell something was wrong. Though there wasn't much he could do at this point, considering he was due in court by noon.

"Y/N. Are you sure about this?" Captain Holt questioned as you walked into his office.

"No. But something needs to be done. This guy doesn't just give up. So either I'm bait and we have a chance at catching him, or I die a horrific death for no reason. Not the best of options."

Holt nodded in understanding, "Well everything is set up. We have snipers in position around the perimeter of your apartment and a dozen plain-clothed in the vicinity."

"So hopefully we have a chance. What about near the abandoned subway entrance? That's how Dick thinks he's staying out of sight."

"Covered. We are ready to go on your command. Though I still think Detective Grayson should be informed of the plan."

"He's in court. So he couldn't help out anyways. The fewer people that know, the better. Let's move."

You arrived at your apartment without any issues, though you could feel a million pairs of eyes on you. With everyone watching you, it would be hard to notice one more face. Nevertheless, you persisted, attempting to go about your day in your apartment. The apartment that now seemed so foreign to you, though you had only been unexpectedly ripped from it a week ago.

As the day went on you began to feel more and more lightheaded. Normally, you would chalk it up to stress, but given the situation, you decided otherwise.

"Captain…"

"There is still no sign of him," he ignored the strain in your voice.

"I think…he's already…here." A crashing sound was left ringing through the earpiece.

"I want everyone on her position now! Get me a visual!" Captain Holt's booming voice commanded those around him. "Where are my snipers?!" An eerie silence crept over the line. "Shit." He mumbled before pulling out his phone. The dial tone appeared to mock him until finally the other end picked up.

"What happened?" The stringent words reverberated in the air.

"He has her."

"Goddammit. How did he get her out of the precinct?" Dick didn't wait for an answer. "Because she wasn't in the precinct. How could you let her be bait? You've seen what this guy does!" The anger was bubbling up inside him. Out of everyone, why you. Why did he have to go after you?

"I know."

"How long? HOW LONG HAS HE HAD HER?!" Two cops turned towards Captain Holt as Dick's voice echoed from the speaker.

"About a minute. From her apartment." As soon as the word left his lips, the line went dead. Holt buried his head in his hands. If there was any hope of finding her, it was Dick Grayson.

You woke up in a cold, dark, concrete room. "Well, guess that didn't work out as planned…" You mumbled to yourself, or so you thought.

"Really? You thought a bunch of cops in blue jeans could stop me? I've been hunting you for months. Along with the others. But you. You were my challenge. I memorized everything about you. Your favorite breakfast, your confidants, what time you call your family. Lovely little folks, by the way. And then you thought you could hideaway in that pathetic little Richard Grayson's apartment. The only reason I didn't take you then is because I didn't want to. What kind of challenge would that be? That would have diminished everything!" He carefully stepped around your chair, weaving your hair in and out of his fingers, until he turned to face you. "But now, here you are! My masterpiece! My coup d'etat!" His lips forced their way to yours. "Don't worry, my sweet. I'll take my time with you. After all, the grand finale demands perfection!" The crazed man turned on his heel and sauntered out of the room, leaving you with your own horrific thoughts.

It felt like hours had gone by before he returned. When he walked in, his eyes went immediately to your wrists and fingernails, which were now bloodied beyond recognition. "Now I wish you hadn't done that. Blood does not make for a spectacular fossilization." He walked around and surveyed the damage. "I guess it was to be expected though. After all, it wouldn't be fun without the challenge."

"You know, you keep saying that this is some big challenge, yet you gassed me and then tied me up. That doesn't seem like you are really challenging yourself."

"Simple-minded fool! Challenges are not always those of brute force. It took planning and timing to get you here. Those 4 snipers set up on the surrounding roofs? Had to get them out of the way. A delay in your communication device? Truly a necessity. And though you had the foresight to add a few men to the abandoned subway tunnel, they neglected to surveil the associated maintenance hatches. So you see, your perfect encapsulation proves to be quite the…" You noticed a slight furrow of his brow as the sentence broke. "Challenge. Now to finish preparing the resin!" Off he galloped, but you swore something was off. A slight change in his mood.

You heard several loud bangs before your captor fell backward through the door. Nightwing loomed over his grisly body. Then his eyes shot up towards you.

"I'm okay." The words were forced from your throat. With those two small words, Nightwing glared down towards the man and began throwing punch after punch. "STOP! Please!" You screamed out the words, shocked at the vigilante's ferocity. Nightwing's eyes slowly shifted towards you. It was as if a twinge of pain ran its way through his body as he crept towards you. Once close enough, his hands carefully cradled your face until finally, he spoke.

"I don't know what I would have done without you. Why did you do something so stupid?" You could tell he wanted to say the words out of anger, yet a euphoric aura surrounded them instead.

Still confused, you began to answer as he unbound your wrists and ankles. "He wasn't going to give up. This was our chance to catch him…"

"I would've found another way!" The words burst out of him louder than expected. Nightwing let out a sigh as he helped you out of the chair.

"Alright, Dick, I'm sorry." You glanced at him for a reaction...nothing. Worried he didn't hear you, you pushed the point further. "Guess I should be glad you weren't in court long."

Dick stopped in his tracks, finally realizing his mistake. "I…uh…left early." As the two of you got outside, there were a dozen cop cars already swarming the area. Two of the officers came up to meet you.

"Detective! Are you alright? What happened?!" The first began to raddle off questions, but Dick quickly deflected.

"You can find out later. I'm taking her to the hospital. Your man is inside, unconscious."

"I can still talk ya'know…" You mumbled as the officer ran off to inform the others of the new information.

"Yeah, but then you'd try to convince me not to take you to the hospital. And that's not going to happen. But don't worry, the captain is on his way there now. You'll get to regale the entire course of events with him."

It was almost scary how well he knew you. "You'll stay too?" The simple question caused an oversize grin to spread across his face, but all he did was simply nod.

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alstroemeriadissonance · 3 years

Note

vampire hunter rosa and vampire vyn?

The Hunt

This was accidentally posted when I was tinkering with the draft on the mobile app (and some have seen it prematurely, since it got a couple of likes)--with the embarrassing draft notes and all aaaa (⌒_⌒;) and I couldn't find the option to set it back as draft so had to delete it (and retyped).

I am super duper happy I got this kind of ask. The possibilities!

This is a one-shot, but the imps in my head have charted out enough material to make this a short series (including NSFW bits between the vampire hunter Rosa and vampire Vyn); so if you like to see more of this let me know and I'll work on chapters in between the other asks :'D

Bonus points for anyone who can identify what game I've been loosely referencing in this bit

Holy. This thing is goddamn long. I had too much fun with it.

Eeep. Obligatory WARNING: Suggestive stuff at the end. Also some gore.

Year 1700's, Duchy of Stellis

The night air was cold, damp, and heavy with despair.

The cobblestone roads leading away from the town center increasingly become more desolate, deserted, and bereft of signs of any living activity.

The hoofing of horses pulling the lone carriage traversing the roads and narrow alleyways leading towards the Chateau de Haspran resounded loudly, heralding the arrival of two hunters who have come to hunt the feared vampire ruling over the Duchy of Stellis--the Duke of Stellis himself, Duke de Haspran.

The two hunters sitting in the decrepit carriage--the only one whose owner was willing to take them near the Chateau--were inspecting their weapons.

Artem of the Hunter's Guild loaded his flintlock rifle, forcing down the wadding with the rifle's ramrod before giving it a light shake. All good. If it doesn't rain, that is.

"Are you nervous?" asked the second hunter, whose face was hidden by a leather mask, and rest of the head obscured by the shadow underneath their cocked hat. In their hands was a threaded cane, a seemingly nondescript walking stick that has already seen much blood.

"We are only going deep into enemy territory." Artem slung his rifle across his shoulders. "Nothing so terrifying, oh no."

"It is alright to admit fear, you know." The second hunter crossed their legs, the shifting of their legs revealing a flintlock pistol holstered to the hip. "I am afraid. We are already the tenth and and eleventh hunters sent to 'bring the demon to task."

A pregnant pause hung over the two companions.

"I am not afraid," said Artem after much thought. "I have long since resigned myself to certain death the moment our--" he cleared his throat, as if he regarded his next few words with such distaste. "Ehem--nobles have decided the Duchy of Stellis required 'saving' from the Night Duke de Haspran.

"However, I am of the opinion that you do not deserve this fate, Lady Rosa."

The second hunter often referred to as Lady Rosa of the Hunter's Guild let out a soft laugh. "This fate is preferable, rather than becoming an unwilling consort to the von Hagen brat.

"Better to die on my own terms than be locked up in that pretty spire in Orchidshine and made to produce spawn after spawn."

"There is a line of ladies willing to undergo such a fate, if you must know," Artem remarked as he tightened the belt of his rapier sheath.

"Then let them," Rosa flippantly replied as she lazily spun the threaded cane with the gloved fingers of her right hand, like a baton. "I have no desire to live out my nights merely spreading my legs."

She then sliced the cane through the air, the sharp movement producing a loud crack sound. With a flick of her wrist, the body of the threaded cane split into several segments, revealing its trick form as a bladed whip--numerous silver razors connected by a fine silver chain catching the glittering moonlight and cutting through the chilly breeze.

Satisfied, Rosa once again flicked her wrist to return the whip to its previous form, as an unassuming walking stick.

"If this should be our last mission together, Artem, please accept my sincere thanks...both as you partner and your friend." Rosa then stood up, tapping her cane against the glass separating the passenger's benches from the driver's seat.

"This is far enough. We shall alight here."

===

The two hunters similarly clad in heavy coats walked side by side in the narrow, dark alleyways to their destination up ahead--Chateau de Haspran--bathed in the ominous glow of the gibbous moon.

Their footsteps echoed in unison as their heels struck the cobblestones.

The rows of crowded houses and various buildings in various states of disrepair, which lined both sides of the road, were shuttered, windows boarded up, and no light sources visible from within. It was obvious to the hunters however, that there were people inside, hiding.

Hiding perhaps, from them?

The Chateau de Haspran loomed ever larger, ever more sinister against the backdrop of the gloomy night sky with each and every step.

Rosa took out her threaded cane from within her coat, holding it in her right hand to ready herself of any ambush.

Her left hand, trained to ambidexterity enough to handle firearms despite not being the dominant hand, slipped slightly into her coat--ready to grab any of her numerous flintlock pistols holstered to her inner coat and hip should the need arise.

Beside her was Artem who walked into a more relaxed manner, but whose eyes sharply scanned the path ahead including any possible routes that they may take on foot, even on the rooftops.

"I think this is where we need to part ways, Lady Rosa." Artem finally spied a cluster of towers, tall enough to give him a good view of their planned battleground and where he may provide firearm support for his partner, who will be doing most of the siege.

"You speak as if we will never see each other again, rather than this being part of our normal procedure."

"Truthfully, I feel that it is," Artem admitted, not one to mince words; his uncovered face showing a wan smile. He then tipped his hat to her. "Lady Rosa, thank you as well for your companionship all these years. I am ever glad to have made your acquaintance in the Themis Hunter's Guild."

"And I, yours." She returned the gesture.

Rosa resumed her walk towards the main gate of Chateau de Haspran, while Artem's path took him to the inner alleyways to make the climb over the makeshift ramparts leading to the towers.

===

Inside the Chateau de Haspran, Duke Vilhelm de Haspran was working on a patient.

However, he was not ignorant of the yet another Hunt placed on him by the nobles of the neighboring duchy. A twitch of his silver eyebrow was the only tell exhibiting his utter displeasure at the situation.

The old man on the operating slab, fully conscious, spied the irritated look of the vampire standing over him.

"Ah, Vyn," The old man's tone was amiable. "Is it another of those outsiders again? I thought I heard the bells ring out earlier before sunset."

"Never you mind, Sir Bennett," The vampire said, dismissively, in dulcet tones. "Instead, ready yourself for the procedure." He produced a roll of thin cloth and with deft hands wound it tightly around the old man's upper right arm, tight enough to numb the feeling on the lower arm.

Duke de Haspran then removed the leather glove covering his right hand, revealing slender, almost alabaster-white fingers tipped with sharp fingernails.

"This will hurt, so ready yourself."

"I know, I know."

With nary a warning the duke sliced open the main vein of the old man's right wrist, his preternatural golden eyes throwing a quick glance at the old man's face to gauge his pain tolerance.

Blood dripped steadily to the silver pan placed just below the edge of the operating table.

Duke de Haspran bent on one knee to dip a finger in the blood catch. He briefly tasted the blood, letting the iron taste roll in his mouth along with his saliva.

"You have had much too much to drink recently, Sir Bennett. I am disappointed."

The old man on the operating table hissed in pain, yet struggled to carry on their conversation--something that the Duke always encouraged as losing consciousness during his procedures may pose risk of death. "Ahh...you know. Nothing else to look forward to than drink."

"You do know that if the men of your house produce substandard blood I will be forced to take your family's blood tithes from your precious little grand daughter."

At the mention of 'grand daughter' a slender figure scurried out of the shadows from a corner of the Duke's operating room. It was a younger girl, aged around fifteen years, wide-eyed and pleading.

"T-that is fine, Lord Vilhelm," she stammered. "Just please, heal my grandpa! I will give ten vials of my blood!"

Ten vials was the maximum the Duke de Haspran would take from an individual in each transaction.

The Duke sighed. "Regeneration of his liver will take more than that. But fine. Ten vials as a starting price." He adjusted his monocle. "Then I will decide on how much more to take depending on the toll the organ regeneration will be on my current blood stores."

The grand daughter nodded, despite not fully comprehending what he just told her--all she knew was she needed the vampire Duke's help in curing her grandfather's disease, and that she must pay the price.

===

The door to the operating room suddenly burst open.

It was Luke, the Duke de Haspran's Master of Arms and personal guard.

Luke had yet to fully prove his loyalty to him--he had defected from another duchy that attempted to usurp his holdings--but Duke de Haspran already decided his skill with weapon smithing and immense hatred of his domicile of origin as enough for now.

"Lord Vilhelm! I apologize for the intrusion, but--"

"I know. I can feel their presence closing in." Duke de Haspran took the bloodied wrist of his patient and licked the wound that he sliced open previously, slathering on a generous amount of his saliva to close off the cleanly-sliced flesh.

"It is regrettable, but I need to take care of our guests."

He then put a hand on the top of the girl's head. "Kiki, I need you to watch over your grandfather for now."

Kiki blushed, secretly pleased that the Duke de Haspran remembered her name. "Y-yes! And Lord Vilhelm...be safe..."

"You know where to find the bandages should your grandfather need them."

"Yes!"

"Be gentle with them, Vyn," came the voice of the old man before Duke de Haspran and Luke closed the door to the operating room behind them.

The two strode through the dark, sparsely-lit corridors of the Chateau's interior. "I have seen only one Hunter in approach," Luke reported.

"Two," Duke de Haspran said. "I can feel at least two hostile presences outside."

Luke fell silent. "So it really is her..."

This piqued the Duke's interest. "Is it an acquaintance of yours?"

"There is only one Hunter bearing the rose coat of arms, where I come from." Luke pushed open the door leading to the armory, quickly lighting the sconce lamp within with a flint lighter. "Of course, I do not know if other territories have their own Rose Hunter."

Light flooded into the armory, revealing weapons of differing varieties and origins. Blades of all lengths, shields, armors, and Luke's personal contributions--personal siege weaponry and experimental ballistics--lay neatly arranged and ready for deployment should the need arise.

"But if it is two people including the Rose Hunter and no one else, it only means it is Lady Rosa and her partner Artem of the Themis Hunter's Guild." Luke inspected a rather sizable long pipe outfitted with the ability to fire projectiles. "They always come as a pair, and do not work with others."

"So, only two of them." Duke de Haspran eyed the contraption in Luke's hands warily. "I thought we already talked about avoiding damage to property in my holdings."

"Yes, but they function as well as an army if left alone unimpeded." Luke checked if the chambers of the flintlock grenade launcher were fully loaded. "Do not worry Lord Vilhelm, most this can do on stone and even wood is leave scorch marks. I cannot same the same for flesh, however."

"Do as you wish," Duke de Haspran relented, massaging his temples. "I will just discuss the matter of property damages with you after the fact."

Luke fell silent, then blinked as he felt the familiar tingle in his head which, he suspected, is caused by the vampire's attempt to intrude in his thoughts.

"You wish me to spare your...friends?"

"I truly could not hide my thoughts from you, could I?" Luke murmured, pursing his lips.

"You may, with enough practice." Then, he added, "Whether your friends will live or die after this farce of an attack will depend on them. I will put my myself and the safety of my property above their own lives."

"I understand, Lord Vilhelm."

"Do not take it against me should they fall by my hand."

Luke crossed his right arm over his chest and made a small bow. "Of course, Lord Vilhelm."

Duke de Haspran opened a chest containing his sparse personal effects. From it he unfurled a dark cape lined with wine-red velvet, throwing it over his shoulders and fastening its clasps over his neck.

The vampire took out a scabbard and belt from the same chest, handing it to Luke.

"Help me, will you?"

"Of course." Luke slipped the baldric--the sword belt--across his lord's shoulder and buckled it across the chest. He then removed the greatsword--the Holy Moonlight Sword--from its display rack and sheathed it in the scabbard now strapped to Duke de Haspran's back.

"Then let us make haste," the vampire said to his personal guard. "Sir Bennett awaits our return."

===

Rosa finally reached the gate; it was the usual ornate wrought iron gate typical of lavish lodgings owned by the nobility except for one minor detail: off to the side of the grand gate, just by the giant hinges that connected the left gate to the rest of the equally ornate wrought iron fence, was a tall stake on which a severed head was impaled.

None of the flesh remained, but an ivory skull picked clean was left behind.

"Tasteful," Rosa remarked at the grisly sight, then tried opening the gate with a small push.

It gave with little effort.

If only our previous prey were as welcoming, Rosa thought as she pushed the gates all the way open and walked into the courtyard.

The courtyard was full to the brim of various blooms and flora; however in the moonlight what could have been vivid reds, pinks, yellows and other beautiful floral hues were instead awash with various shades of blues and dark purples, lending the entrance leading to the Chateau an eerie atmosphere.

Rosa planted her heels in the middle of the expansive courtyard, her threaded cane in her right hand, its tip digging at the grass underneath.

She took a deep breath.

"Duke de Haspran," she projected her voice loud and clear without the need to shout. "I, Rosa of the Themis Hunter's Guild, have come here to put your vile deeds to task."

Vile deeds? Really now.

Rosa blinked. It wasn't a voice that carried through the air. It was a gentle, soothing voice sent directly into her head.

"W-where are you?!" Rosa looked around, trying hard to stamp down the panic that threatened to burst out. She have killed numerous vampires, but most of them were mere fledglings and none were powerful enough to even think of attempting telepathy.

Look above you, came the maddeningly soothing, genial voice, that spoke as if he was welcoming an important guest.

Rosa's head snapped up, and sure enough perched directly high above her, right on the peak of the gable roof of the chateau's foyer easily five storeys high, was a caped figure with long silver hair shining brilliantly in the moonlight.

Despite the distance she could make out the vampire's golden eyes piercing through the dreariness of the dark blue landscape of a gibbous moon night.

Let me welcome you properly, Lady Rosa.

Rosa's vampire prey stepped off the roof gables and, with his wide cape and silver hair fluttering in the thin wind, effortlessly landed on the ground a few paces away from her.

"Good evening, Lady Rosa," said the vampire, this time in his normal voice that carried through the air, as he made a short bow. "I am the...creature that you seek.

"I am known as the Duke de Haspran of the Duchy of Stellis."

Rosa eyed the vampire from head to toe warily.

As a vampire, the Duke de Haspran's stature was on the unremarkable side.

Rosa had previously made short work of thralls that were several heads taller than him, or of considerably heavier, more muscularly built, but there was something about the vampire in front of her--as impeccably dressed, and good looking as he was--that quietly screamed of how much danger he posed, and that her life was already forfeit by the time she set foot in the courtyard.

Said dangerous vampire had his hands neatly folded in front of him, the smile on his unnaturally-glowing golden eyes beatific.

"I do not suppose there is still a way to parley with you?" Duke de Haspran said. "The night is a pleasant one, and I do not wish to sully it with the ugliness of battle and..." his voice fell a couple of octaves lower. "...death."

Rosa smirked, fully knowing that her face was not visible behind the leather mask that obscured her visage. "I am afraid not, vampire," she said, truthfully. "This is not a mere guild task, nor are we allowed to return without the head of our mark.

"Also, we are here representing our Guild, and we cannot dare speak on behalf of them. Except," Rosa then makes a half step backward, holding her threaded cane in front of her. "with our weapons."

Duke de Haspran sighed. "Ah, this is regrettable."

Then, in a matter of seconds, a strong gale whipped around Rosa, tearing away her cocked hat and leather mask obscuring her face.

The wind dissipated as fast as it happened; Rosa's long auburn hair spilled down her shoulders, and her bared face now openly displayed her shock at what had happened. "W-what--"

There was no change or movement to be seen on his form, except for the fact that his right hand has slipped out of its glove, his long-nailed slender fingers stretching languidly. "Do forgive me, Lady Rosa," he murmured as his eyes gazed on Rosa's face. "But I want to know how my enemy looks like...before I kill them." His tone finally dropped all pretense of friendliness.

"Such a shame; a beautiful flower such as you, only put to waste in such a barbaric profession." Duke de Haspran whispered as reached over his shoulder, pulling out his great sword single-handedly. "They have done you a great injustice."

He then started to walk towards her, the great sword held by his side. "I sincerely wish your lot in your next life will be a better one--"

A projectile--a silver bullet--hit the vampire's shoulder, causing him to flinch and break off from his approach.

"Artem!" Rosa exclaimed, glad for her partner's timely support. She could see him in her peripheral vision aiming downsight with his flintlock rifle from a far off rampart.

His accuracy despite the great distance was incredible as always.

Seizing the chance given to her, she made an overhead slash of her cane--swinging it as how one would with a sword--aimed directly at the Duke's neck.

It connected, but the cane only bounced and did not do any noticeable damage to the vampire. It only earned Rosa an indignant glance from Duke de Haspran.

That was the moment that Rosa realized she had been set up for failure right at the beginning. The threaded cane, even when in its inert form, should have been able to inflict noticeable pain. It also happened to be the most powerful weapon she had in her possession; her flintlocks, much like Artem's, were only brought along to distract or stall the enemy and not much more.

To see it merely bounce off the vampire's bare skin told her that her life was well and truly forfeit.

I'm dead. Haha. Well, it has been a good life, thought Rosa ruefully. Well, might as well have fun while it lasts. "Hey, vampire, let's dance," she murmured with a seductive lilt to her voice, a small smile playing on her lips as her right wrist flicked to transform the threaded cane into its trick form, the silver blade whip.

She did not notice the telltale touch, a tingle, in her head as she made her attack.

With a short hop backwards she sent the bladed whip slicing through the air, aiming directly at the Duke's arm holding the great sword.

He parried easily with his blade--as if he was carrying a light rapier instead of a heavy blade that was usually held with both hands.

Unperturbed, Rosa once again brought down her bladed whip at him only for the Duke de Haspran to catch the blade of the whip with his bare hand--this time successfully drawing blood--and tugged at it strongly enough to pull Rosa towards him.

His sword was poised to thrust at her the moment she enters its range of attack, only for his movement to be halted by yet another bullet hitting him on the shoulder of his sword arm.

Luke, fend off this girl's partner, if you please. He is irritating me. The personal guard, being human, could not reply via telepathy of course--but he knew that the message was received.

Now, about you. He focused his full attention now to Rosa, who, he noted in amusement, now held the handle of her whip with her mouth, leaving her hands free to dual wield her flintlock pistols.

She steadily fired a stream of bullets at him, one pistol per bullet, all of which were easily fended off by the preternaturally quick parrying of the Duke's great sword.

Rosa casually tossed spent flintlock pistols to the ground and quickly drew replacement pistols out of her coat--she did this in such quick succession that the Duke initially thought she was armed with pistols capable of containing multiple rounds.

Amazing, he noted. Themis Hunters Guild indeed has sent their prized Hunter to me, finally.

All the firepower did was to stall him, however, and eventually Rosa ran out of pistols. Duke de Haspran easily counted around fifteen pistols on the ground. She is obviously outfitted for a blitz attack, but she will easily lose in battle of endurance...how unfortunate for her to be sent to me.

"It's my turn, little girl," he smiled languidly as he easily spun the Holy Moonlight Sword in his hand and, lifting it above his head, swung it down to Rosa's general direction. He did not care to aim it at any specific part of her body--the blade was large enough to guarantee crippling damage or maiming if it connected anywhere on her person.

Rosa quickly hopped aside to avoid the blade, which tore at the ground on which it landed instead. That could have been my arm. I wish to die in one piece, she thought. I guess simple wishes don't come true for bastard, abandoned children like me.

"Ah, that is your wish?" Duke de Haspran said.

Rosa looked at him incredulously. "You--you read my mind?"

"Surface thoughts, yes," the Duke admitted with a winsome smile as he switched into a thrusting position, his sword arm cocked behind him. "Well then, let us kill you in one piece."

===

Artem frantically bit into a cartridge and poured the powder into his rifle's flash pan with shaking fingers. Even at this distance he could see that Rosa was facing imminent death--despite all the talk of being resigned to their deaths earlier, he couldn't bear to stand and watch idly by even if he knew that it was only a matter of time before Rosa was finally cut down.

After ramming the wadding and bullet Artem once again aimed downsight to at least buy his partner another second--every second counted, especially when each bore the potential to bring with it a miracle--but suddenly the rifle was kicked away from him.

"Hey." came a familiar voice.

It can't be...

"Luke." Artem was about to say he was happy to see his old friend alive, being the seventh Hunter sent to kill Duke de Haspran who never returned, but the fact that he kicked away his weapon only meant one thing.

"You traitor," was all Artem could manage to say.

Luke shrugged, which was a feat considering the heavy steel pipe strapped to his shoulder. "What. We never had their loyalty either," he said, rather darkly. "We are just expendable weapons to them."

Artem did not make any effort to retort, as there was nothing false in Luke's statement.

"I suggest you stand down."

"You know well that I cannot do that."

Luke sighed. "This is the problem with you two. They've succeeded in brainwashing you into thinking that there are no other options to live out your lives." He shrugged off the steel contraption off his shoulders, aiming its business end at his erstwhile colleague as he quickly stepped several paces back. "I'm not going to waste time with you Artem--the sooner I get rid of you, the sooner I can go down there and beg for Rosa to be spared."

"What?"

Before he could get any further explanation, Luke fired his prized flintlock grenade launcher point blank at him.

===

An explosion resounded, exactly at the spot where Artem had set up his supporting position.

Rosa was about to resign herself to her final fate, but, seeing that her partner have gone up in flames, something akin to a frenzied despair had been fanned within her.

"Artem!!' she shouted.

Duke de Haspran had to stop mid-thrust and turned to look at the ensuing fire. "Scorch marks only, indeed." he noted wryly.

He was about to face Rosa once again when he felt a sharp sting by his side.

Rosa looked at him, her expression blank. "Got you." In her hands was a silver dagger, the blade end sticking to his side.

Vampire blood trickled down to the ground.

The vampire hissed, as contact with silver was indeed painful for his kind, but both he and Rosa knew that the wound wasn't anywhere close to immobilizing him, much less killing him.

Recovering from the pain, Duke de Haspran smiled at Rosa sadly. "You...really want to die this badly?" He pulled out the dagger from his flesh and tossed it to the ground.

It was not a rhetorical question. He had touched her mind from the beginning, and he knew that she was essentially on a suicide mission. "I was going to stall for time. I was waiting for your friend to go here and plead your case."

"There's nothing in it for me," Rosa whispered. "My only living friend is now gone.

"Please kill me."

"I see. This is indeed regrettable." Then, he opened his arms toward her. "Come here. I will make it painless."

Rosa's lip trembled. "Why are you suddenly being kind to me, Duke de Haspran?" She stepped into his arms.

"Because I am a creature of medicinal arts," he simply said.

The vampire gently supported the small of her back with his left hand.

His right hand quickly thrust through her chest, piercing her flesh, breaking her ribs, splattering her blood, all with only one strike of his sharp claws.

He pulled out his hand, gored with Rosa's blood and pieces of flesh.

"I do not consider myself...a monster."

Gently he gathered what was once Rosa's body in his arms, carrying her as if he would a lover, if ever he would have one.

===

It was too late.

Luke ran as fast as he could, to reach the courtyard, but as soon as he arrived, he only managed to witness how his master snuffed out the light of his friend's life. Literally, by his hand.

"Rosa...ROSA!" Luke cried out. "No!"

Desperately he tugged at Duke de Haspran's cape. "My lord! Please! Please, spare her life! I am willing to do anything, anything..." His words slowly become incoherent.

"Unfortunately, Luke, she is beyond saving," Duke de Haspran said, ignoring the pleas of his personal guard. There was no denying the fact that there was a fist-sized hole in the girl's chest.

"She said that there was no need for her to live, as her partner is already killed. By your hands, if I am not mistaken. So I killed her, upon her request."

"What?!" Luke looked up at him. "No--No! Artem is alive!"

"What?"

True enough, in a nearby pile of rubble a hand jutted out; Artem picked himself up and half limped out of the pile. However as soon as he saw the bloodied sight of his partner his knees gave out and he wept hard.

I was not able to sense his hostility, which is why I was not able to pick out his presence. Luke must have talked sense into him sometime ago.

"My lord, please! Please! I know--I know there is one way for you to save her life!" Luke pleaded.

"No," the reply came quickly. "I have never turned someone into my....kind."

"Then please...try."

Duke de Haspran and Luke both glance at Artem, who now moved to a supplicating posture, his forehead touching the ground.

"Please, save Rosa." Artem plead, gritting his teeth. "I don't care what it takes. I will pay the price as much as I can."

The vampire noble looked at the fresh body in his arms, and then at the two men who are begging for her to be brought back.

After much deliberation, Duke Vilhelm de Haspran relented.

"I...will try."

===

After sending off Sir Bennett and his grand daughter for the night--having made sure the old man had his wounds fully closed off and symptoms temporarily abated--he hurriedly carried Rosa off to his personal quarters.

"The operating theater would not do," Vilhelm had said to Luke when the latter started to prepare the operating slab for Rosa's procedure. "Turning someone into a vampire is an intricate process.

"Do not interrupt me. Even if I take several nights, I myself have yet to acclimatize with the procedure."

And now, as Rosa is laid out on his bed naked, and Vilhelm himself in a similar state of undress--the real reason why he did not want to perform the turning in the operating room, nor have any one stand in as attendant was revealed.

To call it an 'intricate process' was a misnomer. Rather, it was an 'intimate' one.

Or so the books have told the vampire noble.

Vilhelm bent over Rosa, his long silver locks a veil that shrouded his conflicting feelings about the entire affair.

He did not even know if he would be successful, nor know what exactly would happen to him during the procedure, but the pleas of the two men managed to reach him.

And so Vilhelm willed himself to be put in such a state of vulnerability to save this one person who he had mistakenly sent to the afterlife.

A tome lay open just beside where Rosa lay, its text in full view.

Vilhelm took a deep breath, and recited the first line. "Ancient beings, I command thee in the name of darkness."

He brought his right wrist to his mouth, and with his fangs he scored the skin over his artery deeply, drawing blood. With a sharp hiss he squeezed his lower right arm with his left hand, making sure to saturate the wound he inflicted on Rosa's chest with as much of his own blood as possible.

This was the first difference between his blood medicinal arts that he performed on the people of his duchy, and on Rosa. His general practice made use of the people's own blood stores, taken from their regular blood tithes. The tithes were not merely for his own feeding, but rather also a way to procure blood that may be used to heal those with serious illnesses that Vilhelm had the power and knowledge to cure.

Rosa was currently the only being who has received Vilhelm's own blood.

Medical curiosity was partly the reason he acceded to his personal guard's and the hunter's request and so, with his breath abated, Vilhelm tried to observe how his blood worked on Rosa's grave wound.

Nothing yet happened.

Quelling the doubts that threatened to poison his thoughts, Vilhelm turned to the tome, and read aloud the second verse.

"In this space, Gods shall be powerless; in this circle, the rules of Gods shall be forfeit."

Maybe not enough blood... Vilhelm was about to squeeze out more of his vampiric blood, when he finally felt faint stirrings of blood magic from Rosa.

Encouraged, Vilhelm continued reciting the text off the tome. "I shall be your master, my words your command."

Suddenly, the blood coming from Vilhelm started to glow an eerie shade of carmine. A tendril of blood that connected from Vilhelm's wrist and Rosa's wound glowed more brilliantly than the rest of his blood, its color shifting from carmine to electric purple.

Entranced at the sight, Vilhelm felt an invisible yet compelling force that drew him somehow to the girl unconscious underneath him.

Having no experience with females--neither human, nor vampire--Vilhelm did not understand the exact nature of what he was feeling until much later.

Unfazed, writing off the mysterious stirrings of his loins as part of the blood magic, Vilhelm read the next line.

"From this moment onward, your heart, body, and soul all belong...to me."

It is at this moment that Vilhelm realized the full implication of what the turning procedure entailed. But there was no more turning back, and so he watched in rapt fascination as the gored wound had its flesh quickly repair itself, the broken bones restored, and immaculate fair skin replaced.

Yet Rosa was still unconscious, and so Vilhelm recited the last verse in the page.

"Your spirit is inextinguishable, this contract eternal."

As soon as he uttered those words, the most magnificent sight Vilhelm would ever behold happened: Rosa's entire body glowed, the brightness eventually filling the room to such an intensity that he had to avert his eyes.

The electric purple thread of blood joining Vilhelm's wrist to Rosa's erstwhile wound glowed white-hot, until it dissipated along with the rest of the mysterious illumination.

Rosa started to breathe, her naked chest rising and falling with each breath.

Vilhelm suddenly felt a strong wave of exhaustion--he realized that he had let out too much of his own blood--and before he could think of how to replenish it, he fell on top on Rosa, instantly losing his own consciousness.

When he opened his eyes, Vilhelm saw Rosa watching over him, a blanket draped over her shoulders to cover her nakedness.

"I am sorry," he started to speak, but his voice came out too softly, and he found himself too weak to move. Yet his first thought was to apologize to Rosa. "I fell unconscious before I could replace your clothing."

"I realized that," Rosa replied.

Vilhelm saw, as her mouth opened to speak, that she had gained her own fangs.

"...how long was I sleeping?"

"I do not know," Rosa said, her olive eyes--now infused with a faint, ethereal glow--gazing at him intensely. "But I think at least two days. Or is it two nights?" Rosa let out a soft, quiet laugh. "How do you vampires count the days?"

"The same as how others who speak our language do, I suppose."

"Fair enough."

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes. Very," Rosa said, her eyes still fixated on him. "But I do not know how to satisfy this hunger."

Vilhelm sighed. He was still too weak, but feeding his made vampire took precedence. With an unsteady fingertip he sliced an artery on his neck, letting his own blood flow into rivulets that drew channels on his naked alabaster skin.

"You can try...this..."

Wordlessly Rosa bent over to him, her lips closing in on his wound, sucking on his blood eagerly. Her tongue licked his skin clean of any missed drops of precious blood.

"Hahh..ah--just...just like that," Vilhelm moaned. He felt increasingly weaker, but at the same time he felt the same stirrings of the alien sensation he that threatened to overcome him while doing the blood magic on Rosa.

The feeling that made him want to do things to the young vampire currently feeding on him was spreading over his loins, but Vilhelm, as inexperienced as he was, did not comprehend this.

What is this that I'm feeling!?

"Don't h-hold yourself--ahh--back," Vilhelm's moans filled the room, his whimpering breaking the once sacred silence that covered them as he remained sleeping. "Don't--you don't need to--hahh--subdue your hunger in my account--hnnh!!"

The sensations of Rosa's tongue against his skin was electrifying. The sensations pooled and concentrated in his nether regions...

Vilhelm found himself holding Rosa closer to him with his arms, albeit with a weakened grip, and slowly overcome with the urge to devour her--but not exactly feed on her. Whatever he felt, was of a more primal nature.

What is this what is this what is this what is this what is this what is this--ahh

"Mhm," Rosa steadily sipped and lapped at Vilhelm's wound, relishing his flavor and the sustenance that he was giving her at his own expense. Then she paused.

"I know what you're feeling," she gave his neck wound another languorous lick.

She managed to hear his thoughts. It was very loud and clear.

Vilhelm moaned once again. "...what--"

"While I still have traces of humanity inside me," Rosa murmured as she lifted her head to look at Vilhelm rather lustily, "Let me show you how humans devour each other. You may find it rather...delicious."

"Consider it payback for whatever you did to me..." She licked her lips. "Master."

She then removed her blanket, and moved to straddle his naked body.

The rest of the night was filled with more moaning, cries, and other sounds from Vilhelm that Rosa found were definitely to die for.

#tears of themis #tears of themis fanfic #vyn richter #mo yi #tot vyn #vyn richter x reader #luke pearce #artem #tears of themis au #tot au

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