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stylesharrys · 6 months

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vodka and vampires [vamprry]

summary: harry comes back to town for his birthday, and you can’t keep your hands off him.

warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, teasing, biting, blood play, unprotected sex, dirty talk, oral (female and male recieving)

word count: 6,171

authors note: happy halloween angels!! here’s a nice, long, smutty vamprry for you!! also let’s just pretend it’s also harry’s bday hahahaa and fair warning – pure smut and some blood play :o

You take a deep breath, a smile tugging on your lips and you pound your fist against the front door of your old home. Nerves seep through your veins, stomach churning in excitement as you hear shuffling from the other side.

The door is yanked open, a brunette huffing at the loud sounds at such early hours of the morning. “Can I help you?” she sighs, her eyes still closed and she yawns out. You hold the flowers up to your chest, a sly smile on your lips and you clear your throat.

“I was looking for the birthday girl.” Teddy’s heart skips at the familiar voice, head snapping to look at you, and a wide smile overtakes her.

“Y/N!?” Her eyebrows are furrowed, lips parted, but the twinkle in her eyes is exactly what you were hoping to see.

“Happy vampire birthday-anniversary!” You cry out, arms swinging open and she tumbles into them, squeezing your torso in a bone-crushing hug.

You pat her shoulders, choking out a breath and she continues to hold you. “Still human, remember,” Teddy pulls away from you immediately, her smile still wide as she showcases her pearly white teeth.

She holds you at arm’s length, taking in your sleeping attire which consists of a pair of short shorts and an old shirt. You take in her appearance; silk pyjamas, her hair rolled into pink rubber curlers with her eye mask sitting on the crown of her head.

“You even sleep like a princess,” you scoff playfully, her glaring eyes warningly piercing into yours before she breaks out into a smile again.

“What am I doing? Get your ass inside, you must be freezing!” Teddy gasps again, moving aside and pulling the door open wider for you.

You smile widely, thanking her and she grabs your bag from your feet as you wander back into their familiar home.

Nothing has changed, everything is precisely where it was the last time you were there, seven months ago. Teddy wanders behind you after locking the front door, ushering you into the kitchen where she immediately finds a vase for the flowers.

You take a seat at the island, your nails tapping on the marble countertops and she spins around to you, your smile growing. “I still can’t believe you’re here,” Teddy grins, squeaking silently and you laugh at her excitement.

You’re about to speak before she holds her pointer finger up, her eyes glistening and an idea pops into her head. Before you can ask her what she’s thinking, she tells you to stay where you are and scurries off, her feet thudding up the stairs.

You snort out a laugh, clambering off the stool and wandering over to the fridge, pulling it open and eyeing all the blood bags, hoping to find at least a bottle of water.

You’re too focused on rummaging through the cold box to even hear a pair of footsteps patter against the ground, stopping a few feet behind you.

It’s their snicker that catches your attention, making you jump slightly and you close the fridge, spinning around with furrowed eyebrows. Your breathing is instantly caught in your throat as you stare at the green eyed man.

You’ve never seen him before, and you begin to worry as to why he’s here. While you adore Teddy and overcame the whole vampire thing a while back, it still sends shivers down your spine being around another – just because Teddy isn’t a bad guy, doesn’t mean the others aren’t.

You try your hardest to catch your breath, remind yourself that there’s no way in hell Teddy would put you in any type of harm's way. Perhaps he’s just one of her one night stands.

His dark hair is ruffled, unkempt and fluffy - clearly his bed head. Your eyes gaze over the sharp features of his face, his drooping eyes giving you a once over and you find yourself staring at his mouth, the dark stubble coating his jaw.

His skin is flawless, a gorgeous olive glow to his skin.

He continues to rake his eyes up your body again. “Can I help you?” you speak, your voice dripping with sass and a glimmer of mischief sparkles in his eyes.

Your breathing falters again as you try your damn hardest to compose yourself. He tears his gaze away from your body, your eyes finally meeting and a devilish smirk pulls on his plump lips.

The man raises his eyebrows, clearly stunned by your attitude and you raise your own in attempts to intimidate him. “Well I don’t know, you’re the one in my kitchen,” He retaliates, the honey in his voice drumming in your head like a sweet melody.

You scoff, though. This isn’t his home, this belongs to the most powerful vampires known to mankind. The ones that welcomed Teddy and her friends with open arms.

The Styles’.

Before you can question his statement, he stands from his seat, wandering around the island until you finally have a good view of him. He’s tall, with broad shoulders and a very well toned stomach. You almost drooled at the sight alone, only just noticing the patchwork tattoos that adore his skin, but his godly voice breaks your gaze.

“Who exactly are you, honey?” his slick voice speaks, an amused smile pushing its way to the surface of his face.

You clear your throat, straightening yourself out and you turn to him fully, your hand on your hip. “Teddy’s friend,” you inform him and he lets out a melodic laugh.

“Teddy isn’t friends with humans,” he narrows his eyes at you, clearly not buying what you’re telling him.

You scoff. “Well I must be the first,” you counter, gaze now narrowing on him. “… who are you?”

“The names Harry, Harry Styles,” he introduces himself, taking your hand in his and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it, his eyes softly gazing into yours.

“Y/N,” you introduce yourself, although you’re still entirely unsure as to who this man really is.

He can’t possibly be a Styles. You know of the only three. Don and Anne, the eldest vampires known to mankind, and their daughter, Gemma. There was never a fourth.

“Lovely name, honey. Seems you’ve made yourself at home in my family’s house. Maybe if I wasn’t travelling, we might’ve met sooner,” your eyes narrow at the information.

Teddy stomps down the stairs, groaning when she notices the closeness of yourself and Harry.

She cringes at the sight of him admiring you before finally speaking, “Harry, get away from her. She’s my only decent friend outside of the guys and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to eat her.” she sighs, glaring at him and laughing at the horror on your face.

Harry smirks down at you, taking your hand in his again and he presses his lips against your skin before wandering off. You spin around, watching his back muscles flex as he climbs the stairs and your gaze is quickly snapped to Teddy.

“Is he really a Styles?” you wonder aloud, Teddy’s eyes widening as she nods her head.

“Yeah, I was shocked, too. He was super rebellious and refused to stay in Cheshire. Wanted to explore the world. I met him a few decades ago,” she informs you and you furrow your eyebrows while following her into the back garden.

“Hm, he’s like… really hot,” you comment, Teddy immediately stopping in her tracks and turning to you with a disgusted face.

Clearly, he isn’t her type… but he is certainly yours.

It’s been an insanely busy day.

With Andrew’s constant bossiness, it’s been almost impossible to sit down and rest for more than thirty seconds. He had everyone on their feet all day, but everyone else is a vampire, you’re simply a pesky human, so you had it much harder.

It’s 9:42, the party is just getting started and you’re pouring yourself a well-deserved drink. Teddy had wandered off to socialise with the guests, leaving you alone to drink away the night.

“What are you doing over here all alone, petal?” Harry ponders with a smirk as he approaches. You swallow the burning alcohol, spinning around to face him and your smile falls when you realise it was him.

Harry has been teasing you all day. He had insisted that he partnered up with you and your job with decorating and then had flirted for hours on end with his boyish charm.

You’d learnt that this entire party was actually for his birthday, rather than Teddy’s anniversary, but Harry had insisted that Teddy was celebrated as much as him.

You were flattered that he wanted to spend his time with you, of course. At first, you quite enjoyed the flirtatious banter, but then it started to get you heated. You were forced to watch him shirtless the whole day, listening to his intoxicating voice constantly.

You weren’t sure how much longer you could control yourself, and he knew that. He could smell your arousal and hear the stammer of your heartbeat whenever he got close to you.

“What do you want now, Harry? Aren’t you tired of me? You followed me all day,” you huff, taking another big gulp of your drink and he grins at you.

“Could never get tired of you. I think you’re insanely gorgeous if I’m honest,” he speaks so smoothly, his words almost don’t register in your mind. You raise an eyebrow, trying your hardest to keep your cool and not pounce on him there and then.

His gaze on your eyes falters, raking over your attire.

You’re in a slim burgundy dress that hugs you nicely, your hair cascading down your shoulders and back. You didn’t wear much makeup, but your face looks flawless.

His eyes are staring appreciatively and you take that as your chance to look at his attire. Tailored black trousers, a lairy shirt, and his hair is a perfect mess.

Your panties pool at the sight of him, your heart skipping a beat and Harry snaps his eyes back to yours with a smirk. You swallow thickly, taking another gulp and he leans against the wall beside you.

“So tell me, Y/N, how exactly do you know my family and friends?” Harry asks, a smile taking over his smirk and you place your empty glass on the bar.

“Don took me in when my parents died a few years ago.” You shrug, still slightly sensitive to the topic of your parents.

Harry doesn’t say anything, just squints his eyes. His gaze wanders behind you and you’re about to turn around until a firm hand on your hip stops you and a body stands by your side.

“Harry, you finally met Y/N,” you knew immediately it was Don beside you.

You smile widely at him as Geoff approaches. You leave Don’s side and hurry into Geoff’s open arms. He holds you close to him, kissing the top of your head and you pull away with his hand on your lower back.

“And just when did you get back into town?” Geoff’s soft voice speaks as he guides the pair of you back to the Styles’.

“Early hours this morning, wanted to surprise Teddy,” you respond, Harry’s eyes narrowing on Geoff and his closeness to you.

You almost didn’t see the anger in his eyes when Geoff kissed the top of your head again, but you definitely saw it when he winked at you before wandering off to find his sister.

“I see the dress fits you wonderfully,” Anne grins at you as she joins you all, causing your cheeks to blush furiously.

“Yes, thank you, again, Gemma!” you laugh, smiling up at the younger vampire and she shakes her head, telling you not to worry about it.

An awkward silence sits upon the three of you and you can’t stand to be there for much longer. You clear your throat and excuse yourself from them, pouring yourself another drink and wandering off.

You’re all hot and bothered now after Harry had been eye fucking you for the past ten minutes, you didn’t particularly want to be surrounded by intoxicated teens and hundreds of year old vampires.

You knew Teddy was already preoccupied with the party so she wouldn’t be too bothered that you wandered upstairs and out of the way.

Your back slides against the wall of the empty hallway, the bottle of vodka in your hands pouring its way down your burning throat and within minutes you’re a hot mess. The beat of the music downstairs drummed through your head and drowned out your thoughts of Harry.

But within seconds, you’re on your feet, swaying your hips to the music while your hands ruffle in your hair. You wobble on your feet, a giggle slipping off your tongue.

The music fades out to a stop but your body continues its intoxicated swaying. A loud clapping from behind catches your attention and you spin around with a laugh and hiccup. Harry’s leaning against a wall, his muscular arms folded over his chest and his eyebrows raised.

You giggle again, bending down to bow in front of him and he chokes out a laugh at you.

“You’re the full package, aren’t you,” he teases, a rush of heat prickling at your already warm cheeks and you grin at him. Another song begins to play from the party, your eyes glistening and your body moves to the music again.

Your eyes flutter shut as you bring the near-empty bottle to your lips, guzzling the rest of the alcohol without a wince.

Harry watches you, taking a swig of his own glass of bourbon. His pants are becoming increasingly tight by the second, his eyes darkening and the sounds of your breathing and steady heartbeat consume him.

Without another thought, he speeds toward you, grabbing your body and pinning it between him and the wall. You gasp under your breath, slowly gazing up at him with your big, innocent eyes.

He stares at your lips, his eyes dark with lust and desire. Your eyes land on his parted mouth, pink and plump. You swallow thickly, another hiccup slips from your tongue and you bite your bottom lip in wonder.

One hand grips your hip, the other strokes your cheek and your eyes flutter shut.

“What am I going to do with you?” Harry whispers huskily, the sound alone causing your panties to soak and you rub your legs together in an attempt to relieve the built-up tension.

Harry notices right away, a smirk forming on his lips and he jerks his knee between your legs, prying them apart.

You gasp out at his sudden actions, your legs clamping his thigh and he chuckles darkly at your state. You look like a lost puppy, entirely innocent under his wicked touch, but Harry knows it’s all an act.

He knows there’s another side to you, and he can’t wait to play with it.

“You’re being awfully quiet now, petal. Why don’t you show me what the pretty little mouth of yours can do?” It isn’t a question, and you know it.

He’s taunting you, breaking your wall brick by brick, and you both know it won’t last long before you lose control.

You swallow back a moan. “Yeah, I hear you like pretty little things,” you tease back, your eyes never leaving him and his smirk only grows.

He shifts against you, his aching cock rubbing against your thigh in the tight confinements of his pants and he grunts at the feeling.

Your eyes light up, amusement filling your senses and you press your hands on his chest, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. Harry immediately looks down at you with wide eyes, clearly surprised by your sudden confidence, but he isn’t complaining.

“You alright there, petal?” you ask, mimicking his tone while smirking up at him wickedly.

The twinkle of mischief in his eyes grows to the size of the moon, his iris’ consumed by his pupils and his grip on your waist grows tighter.

“Well love, you seem to have put me in quite a situation,” he flirts, grinding his crotch against your bare thigh.

You swallow back another moan, your eyes fluttering closed and he knows that he’s won you over.

The alcohol that’s running through your blood seems to have fled your system, abandoning ship and allowing you to make this decision that you’ll surely remember in the years to come.

You hum slightly, your voice drowned out in the blaring music, but Harry still hears you. You run your hands up his chest and to his shoulders, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt.

Another hum slips from your parted lips, Harry’s eyes drilling into them as he thinks of all the naughty things you could do with your mouth.

You bite your bottom lip, staring up at him while your hand fumbles with the doorknob beside you. You knew this house like the back of your hand, and so you’re not particularly bothered that you’re being shoved in Teddy’s bedroom after the door has opened.

Harry slams the door closed with his foot, his hands never leaving your hips. There’s only a little light from the soft moonlight that outlines Harry’s gorgeous features, you can barely see in the blackness of the room, but that makes it all the more exciting.

“You know, I always wondered what it’d be like to make out with a vampire.”

Harry spins the both of you around, pressing you against the tall window, the moonlight harsher on his face and you can see his mischievous smirk growing.

“Oh, baby, we’ll do a lot more than that,” your panties pool at his words, excitement screaming within you and adrenaline rushes through your veins.

You hum again, a smug smile pulling on your lips as you try to remain unphased by his words.

You grip his wrists, pulling his hands off your waist and you take a few steps away from him, spinning around and swaying your hips slightly to the beat of the music sounding from the floor below.

Harry watches you with hungry eyes, taking small and slow steps closer to you as you sway your hips.

Within seconds, he’s behind you, his cock digging into your ass, arms snaking around your waist and he buries his chin in the crook of your neck. You inhale a sharp breath, your back arching off his chest as Harry’s hands slowly travel up your sides.

He takes a slow step back, revelling at the sound of your heartbeat racing as his fingers brush up the bare skin of your arms.

He pushes the straps of your dress off your shoulder, rolling them down your arms, the top of your dress rolling down with it. You gasp at the coldness of the air hitting your bare breasts, your nipples hardening immediately as your dress is scrunched around your waist, still covering your ass.

Harry hums, pulling your hair behind your back and resuming his place behind you. His hands find your chest straight away, a small whine humming from the back of your throat as he toys with your nipples with his fingers.

Your eyes flutter shut, head falling back slightly and resting on his shoulder.

Harry grows excited, slightly grinding his crotch into your ass again and you purse your lips to suppress a moan. You push your ass further into him, tilting your neck to give him better access.

Harry’s lips skim over your neck, his nose rubbing against the flushed skin before he travels up to your jaw, his nose brushing against your cheek and you let out a moaning chuckle.

“Are we going to do this all night, or are you gonna kiss me?” you question breathlessly, turning your head so you can see his face better.

Harry stares at your plump lips, a colt of devils dancing in his eyes. His hand finds the back of your head, pulling you into him and his lips soar against yours hungrily.

He pulls your body to him, your chests now flushed against each other’s and his hands travel down your back. Your fingers find the buttons of his shirt and you tear it open in a rush.

You let out a soft mewl at the feeling of Harry’s large hands kneading your ass through your dress, his hands slipping beneath the fabric and pushing it down your legs, leaving you bare in just your heels and white lace panties.

His hands find your ass again, massaging and kneading while pulling you closer to him. You moan at the feeling, Harry using your parted lips to his advantage and he slithers his tongue into your mouth.

You groan at the feeling, kissing him back harder as your tongues massaged one another’s in a frantic mess. Harry shrugs his shirt off his body, your hands roaming every inch of skin of his torso, his body shuddering beneath your touch.

Your hands fall further down his body until you find his jeans, and you instantly remove his belt and unbutton his pants. With a rush of confidence, you push him away from you.

Harry furrows his eyebrows, taking a step toward you before you drop to your knees, his pants pooling at his ankles and you encourage him to step out of them.

You’re face to face with his hard cock, the thin fabric of his black boxers being the only thing in your way. You pull your hair into a messy ponytail, fingers looping in the waistband of his boxers until you notice a small glimmer behind him.

Your eyes light up and you shift the both of you around. Harry furrows down at you, but you simply smirk, nodding your head to the tall mirror that’s now behind you.

Harry’s wide eyes are so fixed on your ass in the mirror, that he hasn’t even realised you’ve already torn his boxers off him until your cold hand wraps around his big shaft and a strangled moan tears through his throat.

You stare up at him with innocent eyes, setting his tip on your bottom lip and kitten licking his slit. Harry throws his head back at the euphoric feeling, gazing down at you again before he watches you in the mirror.

He can’t decide which view was better, but as soon as you wrap your wet lips around him, his eyes shoot down to you like it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.

“Fuck, baby. Keep going,” Harry grunts, his fingers tangling in your ponytail and gently pushing your mouth further down his cock.

You hum against him, your eyes fluttering shut and you flatten your tongue against him, running up the big vein on the underside of his cock.

Harry grunts out, shoving you further down him until he’s hitting the back of your throat. Your nose brushes against the short patch of dark hair, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes and you gag around him, your throat convulsing around his tip.

“Fuck!” Harry gasps out, pulling you completely off him and you gasp for air for a split second, before he thrust himself back in your mouth.

You stare up at him with watery eyes, your panties beyond pooled as you feel your arousal slowly seeping down your thigh.

Harry fucks your mouth until he begins to twitch on your tongue, profanities and cries tearing through his throat before he pulls out abruptly.

You catch your breath, taking his soaked cock in your hands and pumping him to his release, opening your mouth as he comes in hot spurts on your tongue. You run your finger over your tongue, swallowing while smirking up at him innocently.

Harry watches you intently, pulling you to your feet and smashing his lips into yours. He groans against you, the taste of himself something different, but the taste of your lips is intoxicating enough to keep him kissing you.

He yanks your hair down, fingers tangling in your locks and pulling you closer. One hand grips your hair, the other travelling between your bodies.

Harry’s fingers find your drenched core, and he pulls out of the kiss, rubbing over your panty covered pussy. He raises an eyebrow, your cheeks blushing profusely and your legs begin to lose their stability.

“Little excited, aren’t we, baby?” Harry teases, your eyes fluttering closed at the sound of his angelic voice and the perfect amount of pressure he’s pressing on your clit.

You hum out a small moan, your forehead falling on his collarbone and he chuckles at you as you clutch onto him for stability.

“Come on now, love. You can’t be tired. We’re just getting started,” Harry soothes teasingly.

In one swift motion, he spins you around, your breathing caught in your throat when you come into contact with yourself in the mirror.

You don’t realise how exposed you are until your back is flush against Harry’s chest, and you’re forced to watch him touch you in the mirror.

Harry hums and rests his chin on your shoulder, brushing your hair away and pressing open-mouthed kisses across your neck.

Your eyes roll back at the feeling of his fingers on your pussy and lips on your neck. Your head falls onto his shoulder, your eyes snapping open when a sharp pinch on your neck snaps you back into reality.

Your eyes are wide, lips parted as you stare at Harry through the mirror.

He raises his eyebrows.

“You’re gonna watch me touch you, baby. I want you to watch your own face when I make you cum.”

You can’t control the filthy moan that stumbles off your tongue at his words. Your eyes are forced open, your vision trained on his fingers as they crawl into your panties, swirling around in your arousal.

You whiter in pleasure, your hand clasping around Harry’s wrist and he tuts in your ear.

“Let go, baby. Let me touch you. I promise you’ll like it,” his raspy whisper is enough for you to let go of him, your body leaning against his and you watch his hand disappear into your soaked panties.

Harry groans in your ear, nipping at your earlobe and teasing your entrance with his middle finger, plunging in without warning and you gasp out in surprise.

Your jaw drops, eyes wide as Harry presses his finger deeper in you, slowly pulling out before shoving it deeper in you.

“Oh my god, Harry!” you pant out, your mind blurring and you begin to wonder what he could do with his cock if he could have you in such a state with just his fingers.

Harry coos in your ear, watching you through the mirror as he pumps faster and faster, using his vamp-speed to intensify the feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You’re a whimpering mess, your body shaking as your orgasm approaches quickly and you’re forced to watch your face contort in pure ecstasy.

The fire in your stomach only grows with every rough thrust, Harry adding another finger and you howl out.

“Come on, baby, you’re almost there,” Harry encourages, curling his fingers and hitting your g-spot with each curl.

You’re a complete mess, a pornographic moan tearing through your throat and sounding through the room, your eyes squeezing shut as you feel your orgasm crashing over you.

“Open your eyes,” Harry seethes through gritted teeth in your ear, his fingers thrusting and curling at an incredible pace, your eyes snapping open and you scream out in pleasure.

Your walls clench around his fingers again, your whole body shaking against his and you cry out as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. Harry slows his movements, pulling away from you and vamp-speeding you to the bed, laying against the sheets.

He presses a soft kiss to your lips while you continue to attempt to catch your breath. Harry pulls away, ducking down your body and peppering your stomach with kisses until he reaches your thighs.

You furrow your eyebrows. “What are you doing?” you ask in a breathless pant, leaning up slightly on your elbows.

Harry grins up at you from between your thighs.

“Well, baby, you already showed me what you can do with that pretty little mouth of yours. Now it’s time I show you what I can do with mine,” he winks, a lopsided smirk pulling on his lips and he dips his face between your thighs.

You gasp as he flattens his tongue against your core, dipping through your folds and your hands fly to his head.

You grip Harry’s dark curls in your fingers, whimpering at every lick.

“You know, not all of us have s-super vamp-ire recovery time. I’m just a… holy shit… just a human,” you stutter out between whimpers.

Harry gazes up at you through his lashes, pressing a soft kiss to your clit.

“I know, baby, which means you’ll orgasm quicker. And, it’ll be more intense than the last,” you open your mouth to reply but a loud scream tears through your throat instead.

Harry’s mouth latches onto your clit, sucking furiously while his tongue flicks over your swollen nub. Your back arches off the sheets, nails clawing away at Harry’s scalp and he grunts against your core, your body already shaking.

“Harry! F-fuck. I… oh my god!” you can hardly conjure up a coherent sentence, words wandering your scattered brain as you see stars.

He hums against you, the vibrations of his muffled moans spurring you on, the fire in the pit of your stomach igniting in an explosive flame.

You jolt up as a gasp slips through your throat, your eyes wide and wild and you scream out a filthy cry as you come on his tongue.

Harry smirks up at you, kitten licking your entrance and lapping up your juices as you pant for breath. He can’t get enough of you, reckons you’re the tastiest thing he’s ever had on his tongue since the dawn of time.

Your vision is still spotted, unable to see around in the thick darkness of Teddy’s room. Your fingers tangle back into Harry’s hair again, tugging his head out from between your thighs and he crawls up you, leaving soft kisses on your skin in his wake.

A breathless giggle slips from your lips, a tired smile on your face at the feeling of his hard cock brushing against your shaking thigh.

Your skin is on fire, with every touch Harry presses onto you, it ignites another flame, hotter and brighter than the one before.

His eyes are darker than ever, a predatory look plastered on his gorgeous features and your teeth clamp on your bottom lip nervously, your body shrill with excitement.

Harry’s hands travel up your sides, his eyes boring into yours and you squirm in anticipation beneath him. His hands find yours, locking around your wrists and pinning them above your head so quick it almost knocks the breath out of you.

You swallow thickly, your heart stammering and the sudden silence between the two of you is deafening. You want to hear his voice, hear him take control and demand you to stay still.

He holds your wrists in place with one hand, the other travelling down your face, locking around your throat softly while his thumb brushes over your bottom lip.

Your chest is heaving, staring at his lips as he stares at yours, surging forward and kissing you with as much force and passion he can muster up.

You moan against Harry’s lips, kissing him back with just as much force, your tongues massaging sloppily until Harry tears his mouth away from yours.

Your head falls back as his mouth finds your neck, pressing sloppy open-mouthed kisses to the soft skin and nipping teasingly. You pant out, your eyes rolling back at the sensation and you buck your hips up, trying to meet Harry’s.

He notices what you’re doing immediately, and even though part of him wants to tease you further, he doesn’t think he can control himself.

He releases your wrists, his hand travelling between your bodies and his finger swirl through your dripping folds.

“Oh, God!” you whine in pleasure, a soft whimper sounding when he loses contact with you.

You furrow your eyebrows, about to ask why he stopped when a sharp pain tears through your neck, an unbelievable shot of pleasure pulsing through your cunt at the same time, and a choked sob escapes you.

Harry snaps his hips into yours at a dangerously fast pace, knocking the air out of you every time you gasp for another breath.

You’re seeing stars, your cunt over sensitive and neck pulsating with an odd feeling of both pleasure and pain. You choke out Harry’s name, your hands flying to his curls in which you almost tear from his scalp.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him as close to you as you possibly can. You sigh in relief at the feeling of Harry’s canines pulling out of your flesh.

His tongue licks a long stripe up your neck, cleaning away the blood and he pulls away, his face just inches from yours and your eyes widen, blood dripping slightly from lips.

You crash your lips into his, not having a care for the metallic taste that stains your tongue. Harry groans, pumping his hips into yours even faster and you scream out.

He pulls out of the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as you catch your breath.

“Ride me,” your eyes light up in excitement at his words, and before you can even agree, he uses his vamp speed to turn the both of you over, his cock still buried deep within you.

Harry stares up at you in awe, your own blood smothered around your lips and chin, your hands firmly on his chest to steady yourself.

Your hair is a mess, knotted and tangled and your roots are dripping with sweat. Harry grips your hips, encouraging you to pick up your pace and you rock back and forth on him, whining at the intense pleasure building up in the pit of your stomach.

Harry groans, not able to tear his eyes away from the blood dripping from the puncture holes in your neck, all the way down your chest and onto the swell of your tits.

He can’t control himself, his hunger driving him mad as he watches your perfect tits bounce with every thrust.

“Holy shit!” you cry out when Harry thrusts up and into you, leaning up and wrapping an arm around your torso.

His tongue dips to your breast, sucking on your hardened nipple before swirling up your chest and neck, cleaning up the dripping blood.

He pulls away, biting into his wrist and shoving it against yours. You groan against him, eyes fluttering shut as you gripped his arm, keeping his wrist to your lips and your wound heals.

Harry lays back, bringing you with him so your head is resting in the crook of his neck, your chest flushed against his. He slips out slightly before thrusting up and into you; the new angle causing you to cry out in ecstasy and your walls clench around him.

“Come on, baby. Cum all over me,” Harry encourages, your eyes rolling back and you let go completely, your walls and body spasming against him.

Harry cries a strangled moan, using his vamp speed to tear into you to spur his orgasm to the edge and without warning, he comes in hot spurts, filling you completely before he stops all movements.

You lay limp on his chest, whimpering when he manoeuvres himself so he can carefully pull out without hurting you.

Harry leans beside you, pulling the soft sheets over you both and wrapping his arms around you softly. Your breathing begins to steady, eyes fluttering shut and you curl slightly into Harry more.

“Happy fuckin’ birthday,” you sigh, cuddling into him and barely keeping consciousness.

He smiles down at you, his own eyes fluttering closed at the sound of your soft breathing and steady heartbeat.

Just as he is about to slip into a well-deserved slumber, the bedroom door creaks and his eyes peel open.

Teddy slowly steps inside with furrowed eyebrows, eyeing the conspicuous clothes that are torn and scattered around her bedroom floor before her eyes land on her bed, her two best friends naked in her sheets.

Teddy’s eyes widen, Harry squinting and silently wincing at the fact that they’ve been caught. A thick silence falls upon them for several minutes, Harry not having the guts to apologise and Teddy not knowing what to do or say.

Harry opens his mouth to speak when an unusually high-pitched tone comes out instead of his own, and a nervous smile overtakes his lips.

“So…” he swallows thickly, “How was the party?”

aaAHHhHh pls let me know what you thought, and give it a reblog, feedback is always massively appreciated xx

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #imagine harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fic

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chvoswxtch · 11 months

Text

carnal desire

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: after a long night defending hell's kitchen, matt seeks a release within you.

warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 3k

a/n: all of the warnings. every single one of them. all the kinks. this was purely me going feral over the black suit of sin. i refuse to apologize. happy sinning. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

Any trace of guilt Matt felt about slipping through your window in the middle of the night vanished the second the purity of your scent enveloped him. The steady rhythm of your heart had lured him in like a siren’s song, and even though he could tell from three blocks away that you were deep beneath the blanket of sleep, he’d made up his mind that he would ask for your forgiveness later.

Matt carefully shut the window that you left unlatched just for him, keeping his footsteps light as he followed the familiar path from the living room to your bedroom. Removing his gloves from his hands, his fingers twitched at his sides sensing the soft silk slip that covered your body. His favorite. Matt had gotten it for you as a gift, and you had gone out and bought it in several more colors claiming it was the softest thing you had ever worn. Your skin was incredibly soft as it was, but covered in the fabric of silk…God that was something else.

Toeing his boots off by your door, he silently snuck around the bed to perch on the edge of it, removing the cloth mask from his face to set on your nightstand. He allowed his fingertips to trail faintly along from the top of your shoulder down to your wrist languidly, repeating the path in the opposite direction as he felt you begin to stir. He should feel bad about waking you up at such an hour, knowing you had to be up early for work, but his carnal desire couldn’t be tamed tonight, and the Devil wanted his fill.

“Wake up, sweetheart.”

Matt brushed his lips along the shell of your ear as he whispered, starting a trail of open mouthed kisses along your jawline. The feeling of his coarse facial hair tickled slightly, and even subconsciously, you leaned into his touch. Matt smiled to himself at this, always loving the way your body reacted to him. It filled him with a sense of pride and power, knowing only he could elicit that kind of reaction from you. He lightly grabbed your face in his hand to turn it more towards himself, leaning in to bump his nose against yours before placing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Come on, angel. Wake up for me.”

The labor of your breathing became lighter, signaling to him that he had gotten through to you. As you began to slowly wake up, you felt a blaze of warmth cradling your face, and realized the velvet timber of Matt’s voice wasn’t just echoing in your dreams; he was here. Blinking a few times, Matt’s shadowed form suddenly came into focus, and you instinctively grabbed onto his wrist.

“Matty?”

“Hi, pretty girl.”

Letting your eyes adjust to the darkness, you sat up slowly to face Matt, trying to get a good look at him with the aid of the glowing moonlight filtering in through your curtains. He didn’t appear to be in bad shape that you could tell, and his face was surprisingly free of blood and bruising. Placing your palm on his chest, a slight shiver ran through you feeling the heat coming off his body beneath the thin black athletic shirt he wore. As much as you wished he would wear something that could actually protect him from harm, you couldn’t deny how goddamn good he looked in the black outfit he wore. The shirt and pants clung to his body like a second skin, shaping every outline and ridge of muscle in his chest, showcasing his strong arms and powerful thighs, and curved perfectly around that glorious ass of his.

“I’m not hurt.”

There was a somewhat playful smile gracing the corner of his mouth, but the Devil was still nestled in his voice. Your lips parted slightly as you stared at him, trying to figure out which version of your boyfriend was sitting in front of you right now.

He slowly tilted his head to the side, most likely picking up on the increase in speed of your heart rate. He still held your face in his palm, staying quiet for a moment as he trailed the pad of his thumb along the entirety of your bottom lip.

“But I wouldn’t have woken you if it wasn’t important.”

“I don’t mind when you wake me up, you know that.”

Whatever remorse might have been swimming around in his conscience disappeared with those words. He loosened his hold on your face, only to let his hand fall slowly down the column of your neck, keeping his fingers loose and his hand open as he placed his palm flat against your sternum. He always gave you an option to say no before he let himself loose.

“Good girl.”

A quiet gasp slipped past your lips, and suddenly you were wide awake. You knew exactly who was sitting in front of you right now, and exactly what he wanted.

“What do you need, D?”

Matt cherished that the two of you knew each other so well, that words weren’t always needed. Sometimes he struggled to find the right ones, but you still knew what he meant anyway. You could read him almost as well as he could read you.

“You, angel. Always you.”

The aroma of your arousal beginning to leak between your thighs had him inhaling deeply, letting out a low growl that went straight to your core. His fingers began to coil around your delicate neck, trying his best to keep the Devil at bay until you granted him the key to unlock his chains.

“Then take me. I’m yours.”

God had never answered a single one of his prayers, but you always did, and you were the one thing the Devil and the man seemed to agree on worshiping.

Although you never voiced it outloud, you sensed that Matt had figured out just how much you enjoyed it when he let the mask of the charming Catholic lawyer slip and showed you the side of himself he usually only reserved for the wicked that lurked in the shadows. Matt was an exceptionally attentive lover, and your needs were always fulfilled, sometimes more than you could handle. But when he let the darker side of him take over…when he gave in completely to the Devil inside him and really lost control…well that’s when you and the Devil both got to have your fun.

Sex with Matt when he was in this headspace was usually hard and rough, not that you minded the slightest. He seemed to be hellbent on testing your limits, and you were more than willing to let him try and break you. You were just as curious as he was to see how far he could push you. It was like there was a relief he was able to find inside you that he couldn’t find out on the streets some nights, and if you were being honest with yourself, you preferred him searching for it within you where at least you knew he was safe.

But something about tonight seemed…different. As soon as you granted him your permission, something inside him flipped, and you could see it flash in his eyes like a comet darting across the sky.

There was nothing gentle about the way he grabbed your hair by the roots, forcing you onto the floor onto your knees as he sat on the edge of your bed, spreading his legs wide enough for you to fit between. He yanked your head back by your hair, causing you to let out a noise of surprise as you stared up at his shadowed features. This was definitely new, and while the way he tugged at your hair stung slightly, it was completely drowned out by the dull ache that had formed between your thighs and the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your own ears.

“You know what to do.”

Matt’s voice was huskier than usual, and it made you shiver despite the heat growing between your thighs. You weren’t sure if tonight had been a bad night, or he was simply testing your limits more than he ever had, but you were more than happy to comply. Your fingers made quick work of tearing open his belt, tugging his pants and briefs down just enough to free his cock. He quickly darted his hand out to grip onto your wrist roughly when you reached for him, making a tsk tsk noise in the back of his throat.

“No hands. Just your mouth.”

Without giving you another second to hesitate, Matt gripped onto the back of your head and guided your mouth to his aching cock, a slight hiss leaving his lips when the warmth of your tongue met the underside of his sensitive head. The saltiness of his precum coveting your taste buds made you moan, and he chuckled darkly above you as he shifted his hips upwards to slip more of himself past your lips.

“Always so eager to take my cock down your throat, aren’t you?”

All you could do was hum in response. You didn’t always get as many opportunities as you’d like to have him in your mouth. Ever the giver, Matt was usually the one with his mouth on you, and you usually had to catch him off guard or wait for him to get like this to get your turn. Sometimes it was so incredibly hard to convince the man he was just as worthy of pleasure, so when given the opportunity, you didn’t waste it.

Matt panted above you, letting out little groans of pleasure which only encouraged you to take him deeper into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks to suck him even harder until drool started to dribble down your chin. He liked it when you got messy, and based off the low growl that ripped through his chest, you knew he could smell just how much of a mess sucking him off was creating between your thighs.

“Shit, you’re pratically dripping onto the fucking floor right now. You like sucking my cock that much? Such a filthy little whore for me, aren’t you? You’d stay on your knees all fucking night if I wanted you too, wouldn’t you?”

Matt clearly wasn’t satisfied with the hum you gave him, because his hand was suddenly around your throat, nearly cutting off your air flow as he pulled your mouth off of him, bending down slightly so that your noses were merely an inch apart.

“I asked you a question. I expect an answer.”

“Yes…yes, whatever you want.”

Your voice was hoarse and breathless as it came out, and an absolutely sinful smirk split across Matt’s lips as he cocked his head to the side with a low hum deep within his chest.

“Whatever I want?”

“Yes.”

“Open your mouth.”

Without hesitation, you parted your lips, to which Matt tightened his hold around your throat, causing your eyes to widen as he dropped his voice an octave lower.

“Wider.”

There was a hardness to his voice you had never heard before, and you whimpered as you opened your mouth as wide as you could. Without missing a beat, Matt suddenly spit into your mouth, giving your throat a tight squeeze.

“Swallow.”

Your eyes doubled in size at the act, and you immediately followed his command to his amusement. Matt chuckled darkly again, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as he snarled.

“You pathetic little slut.”

Matt suddenly rose to his full height, pulling you up with him as he shoved you onto your bed roughly. He pushed your slip up your hips, ripping your panties clean off to toss behind him as he climbed onto the mattress behind you. Even though you knew he could smell the slick between your thighs, that didn’t stop him from bending down to spit onto your pussy, nudging your legs apart with his knee as he gripped onto your hips and easily slipped his cock within your warm walls.

A loud moan of surprise tore from your throat at the sudden intrusion. Matt usually at least gave you a warning, even when he was like this, but your eyes widened when your hazy brain abruptly realized something.

“Wait-”

A loud slap echoed throughout the room as a harsh sting from his palm came down against your ass, jolting your body forward and causing you to squeeze your eyes shut.

“Shut the fuck up, and take it.”

A soft whimper left your lips as you gripped onto your sheets when he started mercilessly pounding into you from behind. It took everything in you to be able to focus enough to get the words out.

“Matt…you’re not…fuck…condom…”

Panic suddenly started to rise within your chest. You weren’t on the pill, and Matt hadn’t slipped on a condom. You knew it because you could feel everything. Every ridge of every single vein, the slope of the head, his entire cock was practically being imprinted within your walls. The heat from Matt’s body was suddenly everywhere as he leaned over you, his fingers coiling around your throat again tightly, his deep voice pouring into your ear as he growled lowly.

“No. You’re fucking mine, you understand? This is my pussy. It belongs to me. I’ll fuck it how I want, when I want. You’re gonna let me fill this tight little cunt up, and you’re gonna take every fucking drop like the good girl you are. And you’re gonna fucking leave it there, so everytime you move, you feel me. You understand?”

You should be concerned. You should be worrying about the implications about what this meant. What if you did get pregnant? What did that mean for you and Matt? Did he really want that? Did you?

But fuck it was so hard to concentrate on anything other than how good it felt to be getting fucked by him like this. Somewhere in your subconscious you decided that if Matt didn’t care, neither did you.

You could faintly hear his words in your ear, but from the way he was restricting your air flow, and the way the head of his cock kept hitting that spongy tissue within you with a vengeance over and over that made you see stars, you couldn’t answer. You felt like you were on the verge of passing out until his warm breath draped over your neck, his words echoing in your ear from somewhere far away.

“That’s it…fucking take it. Take it like I know you can. Fuck…you feel so goddamn good. You’re mine, yeah? C’mon baby, tell me. Tell me you’re mine. What’s the matter baby, huh? I fuck you stupid already? You gonna come on my cock like the pathetic whore you are?”

The headboard on your bed was banging against the wall so loudly, it sounded like it was about to go straight through. Everything in your room seemed to shake, as if there was a high magnitude earthquake happening, and even though it had been nighttime a few minutes ago, suddenly the sun was erupting right before your eyes, blinding you completely. You couldn’t see anything but pure white or hear anything but a faint ringing in your ears, and your body convulsed with an overwhelming sense of pleasure that brought tears to your eyes, every faint touch causing you to jerk away.

The soft lull of a gentle voice in your ears slowly brought you back down as warmth spread throughout your entire body, and you could just barely make out the gentle touch of someone’s palm cradling your face. After a few minutes of trying to catch your breath, you realized it was Matt’s voice whispering softly in your ear.

“C’mon baby, come back to me.”

Your body felt like it was buzzing with pure electricity coursing through your veins, and the slightest shift of his hips had you crying out in overstimulation, futilely trying to crawl away as tears slipped past your waterline. Matt shushed you quietly, allowing the warmth and weight of his body on top of yours to slowly calm you down, pressing soft kisses along your jawline and running his fingers through your hair to soothe you.

“Shh, it’s alright angel. It’s alright, just breathe for me. Are you okay? Was it too much?”

“I…I…don’t know. It’s…just…I don’t-”

“Shh, just relax. Let me hold you. Just feel me, honey. Focus on me. I’ve got you, okay?”

After a few moments of Matt kissing your cheek lovingly and delicately stroking through your hair, all the nerves in your body seemed to relax, and your eyes became heavy with exhaustion. A shiver coursed through you feeling the heat of his release starting to slip down your inner thighs.

“Matty?”

“Yes my love?”

“Stay.”

Matt chuckled softly, carefully detaching his hips from yours, causing you both to wince from the loss of contact. He quickly shed the rest of his clothes before pulling you into the safety of his arms, tugging the covers up around you while pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Where else would I go, hm? You’re here. I wanna be wherever you are, baby.”

“Matty?”

“Yes, angel?”

“We didn’t…you didn’t…what if-”

“Shh, we’ll figure it out in the morning. Go back to sleep, my love.”

“Matty?”

He couldn’t help but smile at the sleepiness in your voice, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as his arms tightened around you.

“What is it, honey?”

“Love you.”

Even as you drifted in and out of consciousness, you could feel Matt’s smile pressed against your cheek.

“Love you more, angel.”

There were a million questions floating around in your head, but exhaustion seemed to fill your blood like lead, and the comfort of Matt’s body heat coaxed you back into a slumber quickly. Whatever questions you had could be answered in the morning. At least right now, you could fall asleep knowing that Matt was safe, and he was with you.

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042

#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock smut #daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil smut

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apollodeath · 10 months

Text

MORE KÖNIG HEADCANNONS!

I loved writing them last time so I thought I’d drop some more!

Here’s my other hc’s

MDNI

NSFW and SFW mixed together

Warnings: mentions of slapping, rough, blood and, of course sexual topics.

König loves hearing you say his name, but even more when you attempt to say German words

You usually ask “how do you say _” and he’ll repeat it until you get it.

König gets embarrassed if someone makes fun of his accent when he speaks English

He has favorite English words “cat” is one lol

If you ever accidentally get a cut on your finger and it begins to bleed he will lick the blood off and give your cut a kiss

If you raise an attitude and say something out of line expect a slightly harsh slap from him. He doesn’t do it to hurt you but for you to understand what you’re doing is being bratty plus he knows it makes you hot and bothered.

König loves Halloween purely to start scaring you randomly throughout the day

Once hid in the bathtub for 20 minutes to scare you while you peed but, he didn’t realize you didn’t have to pee for awhile lol

When you are on top, riding him he loves having a pillow under his head to help him stay up and watch you fully submerge his thick length deep in you over and over again.

He loves the sound of the lube slapping sound while the both of your hips collide together

Sometimes when he’s close to cumming he loves edging himself in you by staying completely still and letting himself pulse in you, he usually has his back curled forward holding your hips so tight holding on to the burning release in his core. Just to wait enough to start thrusting fully again and repeating the process as long as he wants

When he is ready for the release he’s a moaning mess slurring every word he’s trying to get out and starts oozing the first stream of seed his eyes roll back and his mouth gapes open quite literally drooling as his toes curl and hips lock stuck to yours and his cock unloads massive amounts.

Notes: got carried away on that one my bad

He doesn’t mind sitting in silence all day, non-verbal days or moments are completely fine for him

When you aren’t tired he’ll always suggest three things: warm milk, orgasming or a warm shower before bed (which will probably lead to the second thing)

He loves offering you his food even if you have your own

If you’re out in public he doesn’t enjoy a lot of pda but he enjoys hand holding soft touch of his leg under the table or in the car

If he can manage to squish himself into your clothes he’ll accidentally put it on (even if it’s a crop top)

He has a preference on lube so he’ll go to the store himself and read every bottle/tube until he finds a perfect one

Once he went into a sex toy shop and read the back of a “heated and tingly” one and his skin crawled thinking ‘who would want it to be hotter’

Left the shop with a bag. Bag contents: dildo, lube, condoms, flavored condoms, silk rope and a lolli pop shaped like a penis (a gift for you)

He is a soup girly

König will break something accidentally in a glass shop (he’ll buy it after)

He loves when you ask before pulling off his mask “May I take off your mask, my love?” He’ll think if he’s okay with that before answering “I’d like to keep it on just for a little longer” he blushes “of course, köni~”

When he’s away on deployment he lays in his bed and misses your arms around him

He always awaits the moment of getting to hear your voice over the phone when he’s away

If randomly he begins to think of your body while trying to sleep he’ll surely get hard and try ignoring it at first but if it persist he’ll make his way out of the sleeping quarters to the bathroom, bringing his Polaroid of you with him.

Once he was sitting on the lid of the toilet in a stall late at night. His legs outstretched, one hand on his balls and base holding his cock up while the other stroked fast enough to hear the precum slap in his hand with every stroke, he let himself moan your pet names and heavy breathing knowing everyone was asleep down the halls and couldn’t hear him

He once was caught and boy did the others hold it over his head. Some teasing jokes and Soap even mimicking his moans which lead to the group laughing.

It stopped when soap walked in and saw König’s cock while getting out of the shower

Ghost and König def don’t like each other. I feel like they get competitive

That’s it for now! I got super carried away on some but I hope y’all like them💗

#konig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig modern warfare #konig mwii #konig smut #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig smut

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bnuuys-writing · 10 months

Text

Chapter Three. Prima Donna.

Here is chapter three of the Phantom of The Opera x Twisted Wonderland! <3 You Leona and Malleus simps get the best of both worlds! Extra long chapter for yall for the wait!

~Bnuuy out!

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three(You are here!), Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Leona's Ending, Malleus' Ending

TW: Violence, death, choking, noose, uhhh i might be missing something but idk!

Shockwaves rippled through your body as a small tug was pulling you forward through the mirror. Leona’s voice was muted out into the background through the whispers of the mysterious angel in front of you, hypnotizing you almost to follow him without an ounce of fear; almost as if you knew this angel already.

In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came.

As you both traversed down the corridor, arms protruding out from the walls as you tore your gaze away from him finally to look at the lights flooding your path. To be precise, it was a little bit creepy to just have such stone-like arms holding these candelabras to light your way down this dank corridor of stone that seemed to just descend…

That voice which calls to me, and speaks my name.

Returning your gaze to the masked figure, the trick of the light playing with your mind as you thought for a second his eyes were slitted like cats, and that he had horns and fangs… Yet, with a blink from your eyes proved you wrong, there was no image of those at all. Just pure emerald green eyes boring into your own, then without a second to spare, his gaze returned forward as your feet patted along after him in your trance like state.

And do I dream again? For now, I find the Phantom of The Opera is here, within my mind.

All you could think about was this tall handsome stranger leading you down the corridors and guiding you down the stairs. His movement smooth as silk as his cape billowed after him, gloved hands squeezing your own within them. For a second, you thought you could call out his name yet no name came out from your mouth, only the idea of this man… Creature was neither man nor angel. He once again turned to face you, a smirk plastered upon his porcelain skin as his eyes bore down upon you once more.

Sing once again with me, our strange duet. My power over you grows stronger yet.

He was gentle as his gloves gently grasped your waist to lead you down another flight of stairs, for your noble steed was resting down below them. Its black silky mane shaking off any water as it seemed to nod its head at you, letting out a loud snort. A look within its eyes of ‘you need to run’ yet you didnt heed its plea for your own safety. Slowly with ease, you were lifted up onto the horse’s saddle and with a click of a tongue, you were well on your way. You couldn't help but let him do whatever he liked as your head felt heavy with ease, as if under a subservient spell to just follow this strange man.

Though you turn from me, to glance behind. The Phantom of The Opera is there inside your mind.

Your eyes couldn't help but wander back up the stairs, where you had just come from as the horse’s head rears slightly out of fear. A gloved hand cups your chin to bring your gaze back down to a familiar pair of shockingly beautiful green eyes, boring into your mind once more as a gentle reminder that you must keep moving forward. A small whisper of a promise of rest will soon come, just have to keep moving for now.

Those who have seen your face, draw back in fear. I am the mask you wear.

It's me, they hear.

Your eyes trailed down the figure's hair, down his back, down to his very feet. He was tall, elegant and mysterious. Certainly, this man had a reputation to uphold on his own… Perhaps he was misunderstood? Your angel was misunderstood? Feeling your eyes on him made his body tremble with a pleased shiver, finally having you to himself and away from that brudish Lion. A flicker of his form once more before looking back at you with a small smirk, a promise of what's to come.

In one combined, the Phantom of The Opera is there, in my mind.

Carefully, he was gentle at grasping your waist and letting you off of the horse who seemed not to pleased at seeing you go so soon. Afterall, the horse seemed as if it wanted to protect you itself from the strange Phantom in front of you, in a way, it reminded you of someone that you couldn't put your finger on… Was it a cat? No, you didn't have a cat here in the opera house… Though its eyes said it all as it watched you get onto the gondola with the assistance from the mysterious man.

Beware of the Phantom of The Opera.

Your eyes wandered around the statues that were stuck upright against the water, what seemed to be holding up the walls and roofing of the area. Gargoyle like as their claws dug into the roof above you, their mouths wide open as they spewed out slow rivers of water to add to the ambiance. Turning around to face the strange figure, his eyes already were boring into your form as a graceful smile appeared upon his face as his gaze returned upwards as a gate began to open. Moss and algae rose up with it as you ventured into the new room that was filled with music sheets everywhere, curtains covering possible mirrors as what seemed to shine below them, and candelabras shining your way around to a beautiful stand holding a violin and harpsichord. Feeling the boat hit the edge, the stranger hopped down the side of the boat, making his way through the water and onto the stone walkway.

What's a great way to win your favor in this moment when he had such great competition against Leona? Yeah. He saw that ‘Little Y/N’ moment between you and Leona; and he was seething behind that mirror and his mask, not to mention his small spell holding up his disguise faded away for a moment as he went to collect you. He refuses to lose to a stubborn, lazy lion when you deserve so much more as the future Ruler of Briar Valley.

“Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs and wakes imagination, silently the senses abandon their defenses.” What better to woo you and earn your affection other than song? Afterall, Lilia did teach him all that he knew and he was highly praised for being so well trained. Afterall, he did teach you everything that he knew. Looking down at your form as you still sat in the boat, he could only smile as he walked back down to you with his hand outstretched for you to take.

“Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor. Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender. Turn your face away from the garish light of day, turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light.” A small hope flickers within his body in hopes of having you remember NRC, having your walks late at night around the desolate land of the Ramshackle. That's right Y/N, turn your thoughts away from the Savannah’s sunlight and more towards Briar Valley’s twilight. He was careful as he pulled you up and into his arms as he bridal carried you onto the stone, not letting a speck of water touch your form. “And listen to the music of the night.” He would hum out, leading you into a waltz around his home for the moment. Feeling your hand on his chest and the other wrapped within his own gloved hand, a smile could only return to his lips as he held you close.

“Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams. Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before. Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar, and you'll live as you've never lived before.” Waltzing over fallen over pages of music, over mitch matched carpet, broken stone that remained in place thanks to Malleus’ simple spell of repairing it the best he could before the book would stop him or break the stone back over again. He couldn't help himself as he brought you closer to him, spinning you around as he closed his eyes at feeling your back against his chest.

“Softly, deftly music shall caress you. Hear it, feel it secretly possess you. Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind. In this darkness which you know you can not fight.” Letting your hands drop from his own, only to feel your hands take his own and place them on your waist once more caused his cheeks to flare up slightly. You were letting him touch you so privately, he couldn't handle it much longer if you kept letting him do whatever he liked with your eager persistence of letting your body say ‘continue’. “The darkness of the music of the night” He would lean down to whisper into your ear, letting out a pleased hum as he felt your body weight lean onto him slightly. That is until you broke away just to turn around and face him. Perhaps his spell of having you hypnotized stopped working? His magic had been acting funny ever since he entered the book.

No matter, he would not let you go. Especially now that he has you.

“Let your mind start a journey though a strange new world. Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before, Let your soul take you where you long to be!” Finally, he has you ensnared. Cornered. His. And he wasn't about to let his prey get out of this trap so easily. Pulling you by your hands closer to him, letting them wrap around his neck as his eyes bore deep into your soul once more, knowing he has you well within his snare and trap. “Only then can you belong to me.”

Spinning you around once more, feeling your hands upon his own did he let his desires the better of him. His hands trailed along your stomach down to your thighs, and the other up your chest and around your neck as he continued to sing; “Floating, falling, sweet intoxication. Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation.” And touch you did, the hand that held his own on your thigh broke free as you reached up to his face, cupping it gently as your back was pressed against his chest. Willingly, like a cat who was receiving the best pets, he leaned his head into your cupped hand as he slowly brought you around a corner in slow swaying movements.

“Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in. To the power of the music that I write; The power of the music of the night” Around the corner was a piece he had made unknowingly. You, as a doll, within your own wedding outfit he had personally made for you himself. Once your eyes had made connection to this wedding outfit, everything felt light and woozy. Malleus was fast to catch you, holding you close against him as he picked you up within a bridal carry. Perhaps he should attempt courting you first before showing you your wedding outfit… Though the thought escaped his mind as he gently brought you down to rest within his dragon shaped bed.

“You alone can make my song take flight… Help me make the music of the night” He would whisper out softly to you, placing a soft kiss against your forehead before pulling away. Oh, how his heart ached for your beautiful eyes to open and look at him once more, tell him Yes; I do, though something was bothering him deep within. It wasn't long before guilt set in as he remembered a certain fae’s words of Never To Kidnap your Lover, its simply bad manners… Sighing and with a snap of his fingers, you had returned to your bed above the surface to a surprise of both Silver and Sebek who were both equally surprised to see your form back so soon!

Once morning has arrived, Sebek and Silver went out with Lilia and reported their finding with you, and how exhausted you are after your night with Malleus- Correction; The Phantom. Outside inside the foyer of the Opera house stood Azul, reading the newspaper with a letter in hand. Of course, the public was talking about their show and their not one, but TWO missing sopranos! Perhaps it was the fact that a simple chorus girl took The one and Only Vil Schoenheit?

"It would seem that you also have a letter…” Jade’s voice rung out into Azul’s ear, making the man jump slightly as he was clutching a letter within his hand, Jade held one within his left hand while Floyd just looked overall annoyed while reading the newspaper. What silly little humans, making such a big deal about their precious shrimpy stealing the spotlight for once away from Vil. “Pray tell, what does your letter say?” Jade asked out curiously, that simple slime still playing on his face as he looked down at Azul opening up the letter that was sealed by green wax in the form of a dragon head.

“Dear Azul, what a charming gala. Y/N was in the worlds sublime. We were hardly bereft when Vil left. On that note, the diva is a disaster. Must you cast her when he's seasons past his prime?” Azul read out and sighed, shaking his head slightly as he rubbed his temples. Afterall, they couldn't JUST get rid of Vil Shoenheit due to him also being stuck in the book with them! “And yours, Jade?”

“Dear Floyd and Jade, just a brief reminder my salary has not been paid. Send it care of the ghost, by return of post. PTO; No one likes a debtor so it's better if my orders are obeyed!” Jade read out and chuckled, looking over at a still very annoyed Floyd who only rolled his eyes. “So laaaaame~! Neh… I miss Shrimpy… I dont want to be in this story anymore Azul- Why did you also have to go on and drag me in..?”

Azul’s glasses cracked slightly internally as he remembered how in fact the trio of them got in here without making a contracted deal of pay to get you back to safety. Floyd’s wide arms had pushed them all into Leona’s back as they were all transported in. Opening his mouth, he quickly closed it as he saw a certain lion approaching the trio of them very quickly. “And what can we do for you, sir?” Azul asked out bitterly towards Leona who could only let out an annoyed growl at him.

“Where are they?” Leona’s voice rang out and they all immediately knew he was looking for their star; Y/N. Not the previous and precious star (who a certain someone thought they were seasons past his prime…) Vil Shoenheit. “I take it that you sent me this note.” His voice was strained as he stared down Azul with fire behind his eyes. Afterall, this cephalopod was quite able to slink out even the stickiest situations but this rage meant; I'm going to burn down all of your contracts again.

“Of course they’re not with us- including that letter. We didn't write that at all either.” Azul stated out quickly and adjusted his bowtie, clearing his throat as he tried to summon any courage to face the lion with his smiling buddies behind him. “But do enlighten us on that letter of yours, we have also received our own letters accordingly from the one and only; Opera Ghost.”

“Do not fear for your precious Y/N, the Angel of Music has them under his wing. Make no attempt to see them ever again.” Leona read out with an annoyed growl bubbling out from his throat, sending an irritated look from a now shouting Vil who has now entered the Opera House, and a smiling Rook Hunt following hot on Vil’s tail.

“I have your letter- A Letter that I rather resent, Kingscholar.” Vil hissed out, an irritated look plastered upon his face. Yet, before anyone could ask him to read it outloud, Vil had given it to Rook Hunt who had begun to read it loudly enough for all of them to hear without struggling.

“Your days at the Opera Populaire are numbered. Y/N L/N will be singing on your behalf tonight. Be prepared for great misfortune if you dare attempt to take their place.” Rook finished out as he folded up the note only for Floyd to grab them all and begin to rip them to pieces. Azul cleared his throat which made everyone look over at him with gazes filled with confusion, mixed with anger or frustration.

“Far to many notes for my taste, and most of them about Y/N. All we’ve heard since we came has been Y/N’s name-!” Azul was cut off by Lilia clearing his throat behind him, making the cephalopod jump in surprise and Jade’s eyes widened slightly as he looked behind him. Lilia stood with Sebek and Silver posted at each of his side, but Lilia just seemed smug as he let out a small chuckle.

“Y/N has returned.” Lilia hummed out, shooting a playful glance at everyone, Azul could only roll his eyes and Jade jumped in at the chance he could.

“And where precisely are they now?” Jade asked out, and this seemed to perk up Leona’s attention as both men stared down the smaller male who didnt seem phased at them both trying to intimidate him.

“I thought it best they were alone” Lilia stated once more with a nod of his head, and Silver spoke up after him stating softly; “They needed rest.”

“I'm going to go see them.” Leona stated as he began to push through the crowd only to be stopped by Sebek who glared up at the male. “No, they will see no one currently.” Sebek stood up for you, a mere human without magic! But after all the years that he had known you having been in the same first year classes as you, he thought it would be right to finally stand up for you- Especially to his Master’s enemy.

“Will they sing?!” Vil and Rook stated out, one more urgent than the other only for Lilia to turn to face them, that still playful smirk plastered upon his face as he looked up at them both. Instead of answering them, he pulled out another note that was sealed up with green wax in the shape of a dragon head. “Here, I have a note.”

“Let me see it.” Floyd was quick to speak as he ripped the note away from Lilia’s hand who didn't seem all too bothered by the eel’s demeanor. Floyd was quick to open the note as he began to read it out loud, squinting his eyes down at the words.

“Gentleman, I have now sent you some notes on how my theater is to be run. You have not followed my instructions, I shall give you one last chance. Y/n L/n has returned to you, and I am anxious to see their career progress. In the new production of ‘Il Muto’ You will therefore cast Vil as the pageboy, and put Y/n in the role of the Countess. The role for the pageboy is silent which makes my casting, in a world, idea.

I will watch this performance in my normal seat in box five which will be kept empty for me, should these commands be ignored; a disaster beyond your imagination will occur.

I remain, Gentleman, your faithful obedient servant,

O.G”

“Its all a ploy to help Y/n!” At this point, Vil was fed up with the occurring offenses against his career. Angry, he began to march off with Rook hastily following behind his Queen. Attempting to coo and calm the poor Highness with words of adorations and promising that he is still the fairest of them all. Azul, Floyd and Jade were urgent in rushing after their star as well, trying their best to soothe their star in hopes of making him stay to perform Il Muto for the crowd of fans that wanted to hear him sing.

“Your public needs you.” Jade stated out smoothly, smiling at him.

“We need you too!” Azul rushed out quickly which made Vil turn to him, burning hot coals within his lilac eyes as he glared down Azul.

“Would you rather not have your precious little Ingenue?” Vil hissed out, eyes squinting down at the certain octo-mer who could only clear his throat and straighten out his back.

“No, the world wants you.” Azul stated out with certainty as they brought back their star into the opera house. Dressing him up in the finest of all silk, offering chocolates, furs and even a new puppy to please their dear Star. Though Vil was merciless as his shoe was removed by Rook Hunt, and a bottle of Champagne was poured into it before getting handed over to Azul who could only cringe at the idea of drinking out of a shoe. Though they needed Vil to stay for them… Bottoms up, as he drank it all quickly and fast.

Soon enough, the night of the performance arrived with much doting and begging for Vil to stay every single day, every single practice. Of course, it was also very fun for Vil to be so close to you considering in this production of Il Muto, you two have to pretend to kiss; Now, he doesn't hate you, but does scold you on how to walk, act, stand- Makes you perfect. You don't know why Vil is so hard on you, well actually; you think you do. Afterall, you did take his role in the play Hannibal. Perhaps that's why he works you to the bone every single day? Who knows.

The audience laughs, claps and cheers for certain moments within it. Of course, Vil is the star and you? The potato. The Spudling. The role with no voice. It felt like all of it was going too fast, but perhaps that was a good thing for you- After that night with the Phantom, everything has seemed like a blur. Sebek and Silver were the ones to ground you (with Lilia’s council to do so) and making sure you were aware of all situations around you; Especially keeping Leona away from you.

Throwing off your disguise as being a maid, you could only look at Vil as you remembered your posture and fixed it under his hard gaze, with a loud fwoop! From his fan, you two leaned together to pretend to kiss as Vil smirked at you. You were always so priceless, how he adored his little spudling of a potato. You could stare at the initmmidating actor with a sweatdrop rolling down your forehead as you couldnt keep your gazes locked together. Luckily for you, the time has passed enough for you two to pull away only for you to take a few steps back in fear as you looked up and saw him.

“Did I not instruct that box five was to be kept empty?” The voice rang out loudly from above the chandelier, and you already knew who it was. Your Angel of Music, the Phantom of The Opera…

“It's him, the Phantom of the Opera… He's here…” You whispered out in shock, breathless as you kept your gaze up at the form retreating back into the wall filled with cherubs and clouds. As much as Vil didn't want to scold you, the book forced the words out from his mouth as his gaze hardened upon your form, a sneer coming from him.

“Your part is silent, little potato.” Vil seethed out as he walked off to the side as Azul and Jade were calming the crowd, Floyd didn't want to currently as he was dozing off in his seat at such a boring performance. Hell, teasing Riddle was more exciting than this! Soon enough, Vil was back on stage with you as he glared at you, and you could only lower your gaze into the floor in defeat. No, there was no need to be afraid of your Angel of Music, he is probably just upset that his seat was taken in the one place he could be accepted.

Starting the song over, Vil began to sing until his voice broke into a loud croak, panic flushed through his system but he attempted to remain calm as he continued to sing only for more croaks of frogs to come out from him. Who had used a potion like this upon him?! How dare they! Quickly, Azul and Jade rushed down to the stage as the curtains began to close, leaving a poor stage actor out as Jade and Azul appeared behind the mass of red curtains as the crowd continued to laugh away at Vil’s dismay.

“We are so sorry about that, the play will continue in ten minutes time while the role of the Countess will be played.” Azul started to speak out only for an arm to reach into the curtain, grabbing you by the forearm and pull you out behind the curtains and into the front of the stage in front of all the audience. “By Y/N L/N!” Azul finished as Jade waved you off, rushing you to go get changed.

“But we will now turn your attention to act three, the ballet… The Ballet now!” Jade spoke out quickly and nodded his head as the two of them departed back into the curtains while the stage was getting set up for the ballet. Meanwhile, Malleus was having a hard time sneaking his way out from there, having had a certain pesky little flea following him around the ropes and bridges backstage.

Malleus was patient but only for you, most certainly he would be throwing a tantrum right now, but with his lack of magic he couldn't summon a storm like he usually could. Damn book. Rushing around, the pesky little flea followed him only for Malleus to stop and turn, a feral growl emitting from his throat as puffs of green flames hissed out from the sides of his mouth. This in turn sparked fear into the man as he had now just come to realize that he was following the all too dangerous; The Phantom of The Opera.

The game of cat and mouse was swapped around as Malleus began to chase him down, hissing like a feral beast while down below Sebek and Silver brought their sheeps to the stage. Silver seemed to have ease while guiding his sheep along and Sebek couldn't get his to stop kneeling, as the audience just laughed along at the silly ballet they were performing for them. Lilia was there to help you change as a red rose with a ribbon tied around it was there upon your dresser, greeting you with passion you wouldnt understand just yet.

Flutes played elegantly as the ballet dancers spun and jumped, sheep getting guided along the stage yet there was a hidden strange feeling within the air, tension was rising and Sebek and Silver already knew it was the Young Masters doing. Speaking of which, it would have seemed like the cat had caught its prey and was strangling it tightly, Malleus’ eyes burned with fire as he stared down the man with rage while the man could make half gasped pleas to be let go, yet he had seen too much. Once he was done playing, he pushed the man off with a sinister smile as a noose was certain to break the man's neck if he wasn't already dead.

Screams erupted from the audience and performers- Minus Sebek and Silver who were there to protect the women from getting hit with the dead body swinging around before it was utterly dropped to the floor with a loud THUMP. The audience began to stand up, wishing to leave only for Azul to shout out for them to remain seated that this was only and simply an accident.

Leona was up and running first though, ignoring the urgent cries of people within the theater and Azul’s urgency for people to stay seated, he needed to find you before that damn lizard finds you again. With a small shout coming from him as he felt your hands grab his own, for once in his whole lazy lifetime, worry flashed in his eyes as he followed you up… and Up.. and Up. Until there was no up besides a door as you bursted through it all, you couldn't stop with the adrenaline pumping through you as tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

“There is no Phantom of The Opera!” Leona stated out, he knew that there was a murder but you were long gone, how could you have known? As well the Phantom of The Opera was Malleus Draconia, a lizard who got everything he wanted. So he was truthful in his statement but he seemed to swallow his words as he looked at you looking so lost, a plea in your eyes as you looked at your childhood friend. Silence ensued before you spoke once more as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Leona i’ve been there to his world of unending night, to a world where daylight dissolves into darkness… Leona I’ve seen him! Can I ever forget that sight? Can I ever escape from that face so distorted and evil, it was hardly a face in the darkness…” You seemed to pause as your form turned away from Leona, looking over the statues of knights on horses, Angels with their spears and of course, a single grotesque within the corner. A beast upon the innocents.

“But his voice filled my spirit with a strange sweet sound, in that night there was music in my mind! And through music, my soul began to soar!” You stated out, looking around wearily as you seemed within a daze as you remember that night so clearly and barely of the blurred days after it. “And I heard as I never heard before…”

“What you heard was a dream and nothing more…” Leona whispered out, walking towards you only to pause as you turn to him with sadness enveloping in your eyes.

“Yet in his eyes… All the sadness of the world… Those pleading eyes, that both threaten and adore…” You finished out as you closed your eyes only for your voice to ring out around you from an all too familiar voice, head ducking as tears dripped down your cheeks in uncertainty as Leona seemed pissed at hearing Malleus’ voice echoing, yet he had to calm you down first before chasing after that damn lizard.

“No more talk of darkness- Forget these wide-eyed fears. I'm here, nothing can harm you, my words will warm and calm you.” Leona started out, hating that he had to sing it all out for you but here he is, singing to calm you as he enveloped your form within his body. “Let me be your freedom. Let daylight dry your tears. I'm here, with you, beside you, to guard you and to guide you.” Leona finished out, pulling away slightly to bring his large hand up, callused and rough from being the Savannah but you didn't seem to mind as his thumb brushed away any tears that seemed to escape your shining eyes.

“Say you love me every waking moment. Turn my head with talk of summertime. Say you need me with you now and always, promise me that all you say is true…That's all I ask of you” You responded out in song, a smile spreading from cheek to cheek as you looked up at your childhood best friend. Leona’s heartbeat could only speed up as a small dusting of pink was reaching across his cheeks as he couldnt take his eyes off of you. How dare this book force him to look into your doe-like eyes and force him to sing out his love for you! He has a reputation to upkeep you know!

“Let me be your shelter. Let me be your light. You're safe, no one will find you, your fears are far behind you.” Leona stated out softly to you, yet loud enough just to piss off that Lizard that was hiding behind that grotesque statue, Leona can in fact smell him. He wanted to make that damn lizard jealous. Of what he and you had that Malleus could, in fact, NOT have. Afterall, he was your childhood best friend in this story. Keeping his eyes locked upon yours, a small smile tugging on the corners of his mouth as he looked at you.

“All I want is freedom. A world with no more night. And you, always beside me, to hold me and to hide me.” Bringing a hand to cup Leona’s cheek, the tears long gone from your own cheeks as you seemed to look up at him with that unconditional love- After All, you have loved your childhood best friend and even after he was there to support you after your fathers death- you had never stopped loving him after the loss of connection.

“Then say you'll share with me. One love, one lifetime. Let me lead you from your solitude.” Leona started out, bold and loudly just to keep pissing off Malleus. He could hear the sound of nails scratching into stone, so whatever he was doing was indeed pissing him off. Afterall, Leona couldn't deny his soul and heart anymore, he truly did love you and wanted only you to be his Queen back at his home. “Say you need me with you here, beside you. Anywhere you go, let me go too… Y/n, that's all I ask of you.”

“Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Say the word and I will follow you.” You continued as you felt him pull you closer, not knowing of the presence begging, almost pleading on his hands and knees for you to stop singing with Leona. How he needed you, wanted you, for the seven! He loves you! He needed you to stop singing with his rival as he could feel his heart ripping apart slowly. Yet, like Lovers intertwined in loves duet, you continued.

“Share each day with me each night, each morning! Love me, that's all I ask of you” You couldn’t help yourself as Leona’s left hand cupped your cheek, bringing you closer to him as you felt a flurry of emotions setting through you and coursing through your body. Wrapping your arms around his neck, he was clear to dip his head enough to press a well deserved, needed and cherished kiss upon your lips. Oh, how Leona waited years for this moment, and at least, he finally has it. He finally had a stroke of luck and the universe had gifted you unto him. Though it wasnt over just yet, feeling you pull away and lock gazes with him with that same doe look, he was head over heels.

“Say you love me…” You whispered out, a silent plea that he would, but he had one better than saying the words and that would slap Malleus in the face hard.

“You know I do.” He whispered back out to you, a smug smirk upon his face as he looked upon your face, filled with all sorts of beauty as the frost of the air nips at both of your cheeks. Though, it could also just be that he is a fantastic kisser, yet he shall keep his pride down just for this sweet, tender moment between you two.

“Anywhere you go, let me go too!” You both sang out once more, hugging each other even tighter if that was possible. Leona’s hand was still cupping your cheek while the other rested upon your hip, at the same time your arms were wrapped around his neck.

“Love me… That's all I ask of you…” With another kiss sealing the deal, you were quicker to pull away this time, excitement coursing through your veins as you were officially being courted by your childhood crush. Your now real and extremely smug lover now.

“Order your fine horses, be with them at the door. And soon, you’ll always be beside me. Be there to guard and to guide me..” You were quick to speak, ready to get out the door as quickly as you could. To get away from the Phantom, your Opera House life, away from everyone. The door shut with a soft click, but it was deafeningly loud for Malleus as he stepped out from behind the stone only to find the sweet rose you left behind. Had you had this on your person this entire time?

“I gave you my music… Made your song take wing… And now, how you’ve repaid me.. Denied me and betrayed me..” With a shaky voice, he knelt down as he could feel the tears pricking the edges of his eyes, picking up the rose he had gifted to you.

“He was bound to love you when he heard you sing… Oh Y/n…” He shook as a few tears dripped down his mask onto the snow covered floor as he could hear your love song with Leona echoing within his mind. Oh, how he seethed. How he raged. How lonely he is… Sadness just as quick as it had arrived swooped into anger.

“You will curse the day you did not do,

All that the Phantom asked of you!”

62 notes · View notes

maddieautobot273 · 11 months

Text

Silk & Cologne (3)

A Miguel O’Hara x OC series - AO3 link (X)

Chapter 3 - Introductions - Previous Chapter (X)

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Female OC

Words: 2.4K+ words

Rating: PG - For slowburn fluff, made up spider-medical jumbo and depictions of body shaking/reactions.

Summary: Miguel brings Lisa back to the Spider-Society to receive medical attention.

//////

Miguel and Peter B. decided to split up. Peter B. would take the unconscious guards back to their dimension to stop them from glitching and causing a rift in the canon event and their dimension from potentially collapsing, while Miguel escorted the bitten woman back to HQ.

Miguel carried the woman in his arms as he rushed through the portal, informing Lyla to have Spider-Doctor prepare the sick bay for his arrival. He could hear her pain, mumbling in her sleep. It appeared she was still experiencing the side effects of the transformation. Her head rolled around her shoulders to lean against his bicep, the touch causing Migel to look down at her briefly as he breezed through the Going Home facility, not even glancing at Spider-Byte as she yelled out, “What happened?!”

Miguel’s expression remained stoic and serious as he kept running down the hall, passed the multitude of Spider-Persons who looked on with a mixture of confusion and concern and there were some who gladly stepped out of his way so he could continue on with no issue. Although he couldn’t help it, there was a hint of sympathy in his eyes. Of all the dimensions in the multiverse, nothing was supposed to happen in Earth-1218. Nothing of this magnitude, and now an innocent civilian was bitten and he blamed himself for it.

He’d to make it right. By any means. Like he always did.

He ran through the automatic doors of the medical bay, his mask destabilizing as he caught his breath, looking around frantically. “Doc?”

“Over here, Miguel!” A Spider-Man wearing a lab coat and stethoscope around his neck waved him over towards a free bed.

Miguel jogged over, setting the woman down gently as the Doctor attached some IV’s to her and dabbed a wet washcloth on her forehead to clean the sweat off her.

“How long has she been like this?” The Doctor asked.

“Almost two hours, I believe,” Miguel nodded slowly as he ran the numbers in his head, reliving the events over and over to make sure he was accurate.

“Doesn’t like a female Parker,” Spider-Doc commented as he checked for swelling or bruising along her skin. “What dimension is she from?”

“Earth-1218,” Miguel hissed with a ping of disappointment in his voice.

“What?!” The Doc��s eyes widened through the mask. “But I thought with their dimensions physics and laws..?”

“It’s not supposed to happen, to never happen in fact, tienes razón,” Miguel sighed with his hands on his hips. “But it did. A Spider from another dimension escaped into that one,” - You’re right.

“Do you still have it?” Doc asked with a sense of eagerness. “We could analyze it. We don’t know how the venom will react with her body from a dimension so pure,”

Miguel reached into his suit, pulling out the small case with the dead spider in it as he handed it to the doctor. “Their Oscorp scientist mentioned that extracting the venom could kill her if she loses too much blood. I don’t want to imagine what will happen if it stays inside her and reacts horribly,”

“My fluids will help her body fight any infection, but I think I can formulate a blood transfusion with her blood and the spider to create an antidote to stabilize her. She’ll have the venom, but it won’t kill her,” he explained as the eyes of his mask came to life, scanning and analyzing the spider.

“Do whatever you need to do. I’m not having anyone die on me,” Miguel commanded with a firm point to the woman.

“I’ll get started right away!” Spider-Doc carefully extracted a drop of blood from the woman’s arm, carrying the blood sample and the spider to his work station.

As he worked, Miguel looked down towards the woman, watching her as she groaned, through the pain. He had no idea if she was even coherent enough to know what was happening around her.

He took a quick glance of her form and noticed her hand began to twitch. Sparks flew as her fingers and skin morphed into different shapes and colours as she hissed violently from the pain before returning to normal. She was glitching.

“Someone get me a day pass, now!” He barked an order.

One of the nurses ran over, grabbing one from a bin and handing it to him. He snatched it with his fingers before slipping it on the woman’s wrists, snapping it tightly on. The glitching immediately seized as the woman breathed heavily. Miguel began to pull his hands away, but almost instinctively, the woman’s fingers latched on to him for dear life.

“What’s— happening?” She panted through the pain, struggling to open her eyes.

Miguel saw something flash before his eyes and his first immediate thought was to yank his hand away out of fear, snarling. But hearing the pain in her voice. . . She was scared. He had to remind himself that it wasn’t her fault.

“Just. . . Hang on. Just a little longer,” he breathed as he tried to relax himself. He pulled one hand away from her arm, but allowed his fingers to stay intertwined with the other.

Maybe it was the sympathy talking, witnessing an innocent woman go through such pain. But he didn’t pull away. He couldn’t.

“Miguel!” Peter B. came running into the medbay, jogging towards him. “We got another problem with the mission,”

“What kind of problem?” Miguel’s eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“Those guards we took down? They never glitched when they were in Earth-1218,” Peter stated as he pulled out a chunk of worn out day passes from his pockets. “They were wearing these,”

“Day passes?” Miguel gawked at the sight as he tried to control his anger. His breath hissing as his hand squeezed the woman’s fingers, but not too tightly. “How did they get those?”

“I don’t know,” Peter B. shook his head. “I think. . . There’s a mole in the Society. I’ve asked Byte to look into it,”

“A spy? Someone is foolish enough to pull something like this from under me?” Miguel growled as he could sense his anger building, and only then did he remove his hand from the girl’s fingers before clutching them into a fist.

“Hey, hey, hey, easy! It’s just a theory,” Peter B waved his hands frantically. “Someone could have accidentally taken more than one and dropped them?”

“Considering the security protocols I put in place, I find that very hard to believe, Peter,” Miguel snarled, cursing under his breath. “Is this another one of Hobie’s stupid pranks?”

He tried to keep his voice down out of respect for Spider-Doc who was hard at work on the antidote, and the woman who was slumbering on the bed next to him.

“Whoa, okay, switching the ketchup vendors with hot sauce, maybe, but slipping day passes to villains in other dimensions is straight up evil, Miguel, come on,” Peter B. shook his head tiredly. While he understood why Miguel would accuse him, Hobie did like causing trouble once in a while but never to that extreme. “He’d never do that,”

“I hope you’re right,” Miguel responded with a seething breath out of his nose. “Have Margo inform me as soon as she hears something,”

Peter B. nodded at his boss before he looked down at the woman. He saw the bandage on her hand where the spider bite came from as he listened to her pained mumbling. “Yeah, I’m definitely glad I didn’t bring MayDay over today,”

“I got it!” Spider-Doc came running back, holding a vial of a colourful liquid. “I got the antidote!”

“You were quick,” Miguel commented with an impressed raised of his brow.

“I am when it comes to potentially saving the lives of my patients,” He proclaimed. “Now this could get a little messy. Miguel, hold her down on your side, Peter, on the other, and gently please,”

The two Spider-Men did as they were told, each taking a gentle hold of the girl's shoulder and arms as the Doctor poured the antidote into her I pouch. They all watched with bated breath as the liquid seeped its way down the tube and into the woman’s body.

“She’ll have a slight reaction, but this will help stabilize the venom,” The Doc explained as he brought out a monitor for her vitals.

Miguel and Peter B. watched her closely before suddenly her body started to shake. Her fingers curled into fists as the sensors started beeping and while in her sleep, it was as if she were trying to physically fight the antidote as Miguel and Peter B. kept her pressed down on the bed.

“This is slight?!” Peter B.’s voice strained as he tightened his grip ever so slightly.

“Now’s not the time for jokes,” Miguel growled as the hand that was on her arm carefully moved to her waist as he pressed down on it gently. He watched the way her mouth twitched, wanting to speak, scream, do something. “No luches contra eso. Abrázalo,” - Don’t fight it. Embrace it.

He glanced up at the monitor as one side displayed a visual projection of the antidote coursing through her bloodstream, while the other showed her vitals as they slowly went back into the green.

“It’s working! She’s stabilizing!” Spider-Doc gasped.

////////

I felt like I was trapped in some sort of weird nightmare. I was running, and then I fell through the floor and into what I assumed was water, but it tasted awful, almost like poison. I could feel myself sinking deeper and deeper. I tried to swim back up to the surface but it was like I wasn’t making any progress. I was just stuck.

Am I dying? Is this how it ends?

“No luches contra eso,”

I stopped when I heard the voice. It was slightly muffled, but. . . I knew that voice. It sounded like it was one of the Spider-Men that saved me.

“¡Abrázalo!” The voice spoke up more clearly again.

It really was him! I remembered seeing his face before I passed out. His strong posture, chiseled cheekbones and jawline, his hair and those eyes. . .

“Wake up,”

I stopped trying to swim. My brain and body embraced it all, and I quickly realized it really was a dream. That I wasn’t drowning. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. Slowly, it was like the liquid drained and I stood on solid ground once again and as I slowly opened my eyes, I was met with a blinding light.

/////////

I opened my eyes to find myself in a hospital bed. I blinked a few times to adjust my eyes to the harsh lighting, but everything was coming out so blurry. I could see there were people around me, but I could hardly see them.

“What— what’s going on?” I slowly reached my hands up to my face, taking my glasses off and my vision cleared.

Standing before me were Spider-Man, the navy blue Spider-Man who I realized was more bulky and taller looking than the original, and then there was another classic Spider-Man except he wore a doctor’s uniform.

“Ha, ha, you’re awake!” The Spider-Doc quickly switched places with Spider-Man as he brought out a flashlight pen, carefully flashing it in my eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Um. . . kinda weird, but, okay, I think?” I mumbled softly as I was adjusting to everything I was clearly seeing around me as the doctor pulled away.

I glanced down at my glasses, completely dumbfounded. I had to wear them for years but now it’s as if I can see perfectly without them.

I heard a quiet laugh as I looked over towards the classic Spider-Man as he removed his mask, revealing a white skinned male with short brown hair, a faint stubble beard and green eyes. “The glasses thing got me too,”

I stared at him briefly, my mind still coming to terms if that was actually who I was seeing and speaking to. “Peter. . . Parker?”

“Peter B. Parker, ma’am,” He introduced himself with a wave.

I looked up towards the Spider-Doc and our eyes met briefly. “Also, Peter Parker?” I asked slowly.

He nodded gently before typing away at a console to log his results. I then slowly turned and came face to face with the other Spider-Man that saved me. He looked completely different than the others. Different person, different suit. “Not Peter Parker?”

A small scoff groaned from his lips, but there was a very faint smile on his face. As if he were relieved. “Not Peter Parker,”

“Who are you?” I asked him softly.

“I am Miguel O’hara,” Miguel introduced himself with a polite nod, “Spider-Man 2099,”

“2099? Like in the future? Are we in the future?” I asked him, my eyes widening at the notion.

“We’re in my dimension's future,” Miguel clarified. “Your name is–?”

“Lisa. . .” I spoke slowly. “Lisa Kendrick,”

“Well then, Miss Lisa, welcome to Earth 928, Miguel’s dimension,” Peter smiled.

“Wait,” I exchanged looks between the two. “You’re saying. . . we’re not still in New York?”

“Not your New York of Earth-1218, unfortunately,” Miguel answered.

“So, I’m really in another dimension? This is all real?” I asked, my breathing slowly turning into panting.

“As real as it can get. Don’t know how else to explain it,” Peter B. nodded.

I exchanged one more look between the two before I stared back down at my glasses, clutching them tightly.

“I know, this must be a lot to process and take in,” Miguel started as he leaned into his chair, his arms resting against his thighs. “But if you’ll allow me, I can explain everything in more detail when you’re cleared by our doctor–”

A loud gurgle from my stomach stopped Miguel from speaking any further as his eyes instantly went to my face to see my expression had morph, and my skin began to turn green.

“Oh, I know that look,” Spider-Doc strained as he reached for something. “Bucket!!”

He grabbed a bucket and handed it over to me, trading my glasses for it as I hunched over, putting my head into it as I barfed inside. The noise I made was loud and grotesque as both Miguel and Peter B. Parker recoiled back.

“We got a barfer, I’ll get another washcloth,” Peter B. stood up as he scampered across the room to the supply shelf.

I breathed in and out heavily as my cheeks burned from the embarrassment of what I just did in front of them, and when I gaze found Miguel’s again, realizing he didn’t leave with Peter and continued to watch me, my blush turned darker as I suddenly felt the urge to hide my face in the bucket.

//////

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tajlibracreations · 11 months

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antebellumite · 1 day

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ok it's Been Some Time, but have some possible ring options for ghost king henry clay + what they're based on + backstory potential:

Peppermint. One of Henry Clay's favorite treats when he was alive, and one of the first rings that he made out of the ashes of the soldier who killed him. A simple design, red and white, this ring provides the owner with a spiritually charged broadsword ready for vengeance.

Cranberry. Halfway inside-joke, halfway reminder-of-how-far-we've-come. Cranberries are one of the first trees grown in what would eventually become Prince Hal's City-On-A-Hill. Made from the ashes of a ghost that dared to oppose Clay's city-building efforts. One slightly more sophisticated ring, golden with a red ruby stone carved into a berry shape. This ring provides a long spiritual whip for it's user, capable of great damage.

Hairdo. A simple gold ring because HC's hairstyle is an essential part of him that must be commemorated through jewelry. This ring, formed from one of the first ghosts that HC tried to do some experiments on, produces a beam of harsh light that's able to carve holes in people and buildings alike.

Raccoon. A silver ring with Clay's mascot on it- cunningly made from the ashes of a ghost-political rival of Clay, or perhaps a poor ghost that just upset him in some way or another. Either ways, our favorite ghost king decided to teach them a lesson. This ring turns into a rope, unbreakable, malleable, able to cling to the most unlikely of surfaces!

Quill. This soft ivory ring, with a feather dangling from it to symbolize Henry Clay's skill with writing, debate, lawyering, and oratory, can turn into two poisoned daggers. It was made in the beginning stages of the First Crimson-Golden War, ashes from one of Crimson Sword's followers. Thanks to the endless resentment of the Crimson Sword follower, this ring provides an endless amount of poison for the dagger without any additional spiritual power needed to keep the poison on.

Star. As a reference to the Western Star, Henry Clay's moniker, this star is golden with purple silk inning. This ring can turns into a series of shurikens, also star-shaped, that can be controlled and flown about. They might also be seen-through like drones, hard to say. Born from a ghost killed in the rush to Mt. Tong'lu.

Coins/Cards. A ghost foolishly bet their ashes against Henry Clay in the Gambling Den once, and now he's made into a gold, silver, emerald, and ruby ring that can turn into a flurry of throwable coins and pieces of paper-useful for tracking and hunting down notable ghosts or mortals. Each individual coin has a bit of 'sense' that can be transmitted back to the Ghost King.

Horses. This ring is solid black diamond, depicting some of the horses that Prince Hal breeds. This ring produces a magnificent spirit-horse able to hunt down monster and people alike, as well as doubling as a wagon-pulling beast of burden itself. Yes you can ride it! With permission! Probably made from yet another Crimson Sword follower during the Second War, tbh.

Scroll. Another reminder of Henry Clay's wonderful oratory abilities. Made of pearl and moonstone. This ring causes explosions and burns, made from the ashes of a failed Yong'an Uprising revolutionary.

Smiles. Sapphire and Orange-Crystal, with masks on it to symbolize Clay's Mask of Smiles [ not that anyone will ever know ].... this ring bears some remarkable similarities to a certain other Calamity, but maybe...I must be seeing things, yes. Anyways, this ring turns into a fancy gun with bullets. It also might be Henry Clay's own ashes.

Snuff. Golden Star loves his snuff. Shiny, multi-colored opal ring with a stone of pure black glossy obsidion. This ring makes a spray and/or injectant that can put a man through extreme hallucinations, putting them to sleep, a different reality, see horrific monsters, etc, etc. This ring was formed from a human follower of Golden Star that he made into a ring in order to honor the devotee.

Handshake. Based off HC's notable nature of Compromising and pacificating! An engraved bronze ring/finger guard with striped brown onyx and a wooden fix. Unlike Clay's other spiritual rings, this ring creats a Dome of Protection over an area or person, protecting them from as much harm as the spiritual rings can withstand, as well as safety from any of Golden Star's other spiritual attacks. Also unlike other rings which were made from ghosts, this one is imbued with the essence of a dead god... who isn't actually all that dead... who is up a running even with their ashes in another ghost's hands... a dead god who, as a byproduct of being the one who's ashes are what are guranteeing the Dome of Protection, is himself inherently protected by it for eternity... interesting....

This definately isn't all of Henry Clay's rings ofc: he no doubt has several more with spiritual bo staff/spears/nunchucks/etc as their spiritual outlet! But these are what I've thought of so far.

#fanart #my art #tgcfu au #henry clay

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sylkethelabel · 1 year

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mostlydeadallday · 2 years

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Lost Kin | Chapter XIX | Whisper in the Dark

Fandom: Hollow Knight Rating: Mature Characters: Hornet, Pure Vessel | Hollow Knight Category: Gen Content Warnings: referenced abuse, child death, panic attacks, dissociation, self-harm AO3: Lost Kin Chapter XIX | Whisper in the Dark First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter Notes: It was coming eventually. Here's another reason Hornet didn't want to face the knowledge that Hollow was alive: it's proof of concept that any vessel could be. I sincerely wish her luck in dealing with that. Next chapter is one I'm particularly excited for: Hornet encounters a familiar figure on the shores of the Blue Lake. (Also @slimeel has done it again: check out the fantastic new illustrations for chapter 16—as well as my new icon! Isn't it shiny?)

○

Hornet stayed at Hollow’s side for hours.

She watched their breathing steady, going back to the deep, nearly soundless rhythm they fell into in sleep, interrupted only by residual shivers as their body began to loosen from its tight curl. Their hand and arm gradually relaxed, losing some of the tense stiffness, the silk and padding she had wrapped it with coming to rest under their tucked chin.

Her arm was aching, but she did not stop. She shifted slowly, resisting the urge to groan or sigh as she changed position, never ceasing the stroke of her hand up and down their mask. When she had settled more comfortably, she gave a little more weight to her touch, curling her fingers a fraction to let her claws scrape softly across the faint whorls of living bone. She remembered how soothing it had been to feel her mother’s claws on her face, their knife-edge sharpness used so gently, that faint vibration humming through her skull, and Hollow seemed to feel it too–their eyelids dropped, closing over the ever-swirling void.

Time dragged on as she crouched there, heedless of the growing pain in her knees, heedless of everything she had meant to do. She could not have marked the moment when they fell asleep, nor what told her they had done so, only knew that the watchfulness went out of them, that last humming string of tension falling silent.

Still, she did not stop.

The light outside the window was well and truly gone. The only other illumination rose from the embers of her forgotten fire and the cluster of blisters still pulsing, weakly, on Hollow’s chest. Their other wounds had ceased to glow, fading to a dark and sullen color that she could barely see against the darkness of their shell.

The infection was leaving them. She had a chance at saving them, more of a chance than she had expected or hoped for, and she did not know what to do with it.

How much of her sibling remained, beneath the neglect and the pain and the memories of torture? Beneath the void she was told had stolen their life away?

More than she thought. More than she ever dreamed possible.

She allowed her gaze to roam as they lay still beneath her hand, similarities and differences striking her anew with faint shocks like built-up static.

What were they? What had the void changed? What had it left behind?

They could communicate. They could reason. They could feel pain, and fear, and something like comfort, if their relative calm now was any indication.

What did she do with a vessel that had not only survived the infection, but was sentient?

To what degree? They plainly had a mind, but she did not know how they could still be sane after what they had endured. Their mind might be as broken as their body. They might be able to communicate only the most basic of concepts: yes or no, pain or pleasure.

And did that make then any less worthy of respect, any less deserving of dignity? Did that excuse what she had done and how she had treated them?

No.

If she was damned, though, so was her father, and her mother, and everyone else who had ever treated them like an object, like a thing. What kind of person could they be, after an endless lifetime of neglect and suffering? What had they once been, and what had they become?

She knew their upbringing had been one of strict utility, their waking hours taken up by training and preparation. Rarely had she seen the Pure Vessel idle. The nearest they had come was their presence in the throne room while the Pale King held court, a rare occasion in and of itself. They had been a white-clad shadow on the edge of her vision, never stirring from their unnatural stillness, armored hands folded on the hilt of their nail. They were a symbol of power, of resolve, and she could hardly see that in them now, broken and bereft as they were.

Had they been this lonely, this afraid, even then? Had that perfect image been nothing but projection?

If so, if their awareness was not a new development, they had hidden it so well that she never had cause to doubt that they were anything more than what they showed the world.

She tried to imagine her life without a scrap of comfort, without a smile or caress or warm word from her mother, without the easy company and gentle tutelage of the Weavers. Without any acknowledgement of will, any respect for her decisions—any opportunity to make decisions at all.

Oh, gods—without a voice, without the ability to laugh or cry or scream when she needed to, with no words to express or explain herself, with no way to hum or sing or whisper to herself in the dark. Only eternal silence, eternal obedience to the being that had created her, with no choice but to become what he wanted her to be.

Her next breath nearly broke, nearly cracked, nearly bared everything she was trying to hide. Had they ever been soothed in this way? Had anyone ever offered them a kind word or a warm embrace? Had anyone ever thought to comfort them as the days grew long, as the kingdom crumbled, as the world narrowed and closed around them like the walls of a tomb? Certainly the Radiance had never done so, and she could not imagine her father ever reaching out to offer solace to a being he believed to be mindless.

Even as a hatchling, even before they grew to fill the role of knight, would either of their parents have thought to nurture a child they thought long-dead? Had anyone taken their hand when they stumbled, or lifted them up when they grew too tired to walk? Had anyone held them when they lay awake in the dark?

And how badly had they needed it, for them to defy all the odds and react to it now? How desperate must they be, to ask her to help them, to lean into her touch, though she had caused them nothing but pain?

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, words nearly swallowed by the ache in her throat. “I’m so sorry.”

She was a coward to tell them now, when they could not hear her. And even if they could have heard, they could not answer. Their voice had been stolen long ago, when the Pale King first lowered their egg into the Abyss, when the hatchling within had drowned in the welling void, sacrificed and reborn before they ever took their first breath.

But she would not wish to hear that they forgave her.

She did not deserve to be forgiven.

She would not have offered forgiveness in their place. She would have lashed out with teeth and claws, extracting blood for blood, pain for pain, drawing forth screams where she had been given only silence.

And if the weight of a kingdom had been placed on her back? If thousands or millions of lives rode on her existence? If civilization itself depended on her cooperation?

She might have done the same. She might have stifled every spark of anger, every flicker of regret, and drifted through her own life like a ghost, believing herself capable of the impossible. She might have swallowed down her father’s demands and fulfilled his every wish, allowing his will to work through her hands and accepting every pain and terror he visited on her, all for the sake of a kingdom that she loved despite it all.

Hornet clenched her free hand in her lap to stop its trembling. When she thought of it in that way, she had already done it. She had already lived this lie, already acted out this charade. She was still bound to a task whose purpose had grown shaky, still sworn to a kingdom that had all but crumbled into dust. She could not leave, but neither could she stand by and do nothing.

She had been named Protector. It was one name she held that still meant something to her.

Even though she had failed.

Her vision blurred again, with exhaustion, with hunger. She blinked to force it clear. She had not allowed herself to think of it until now, but the evidence of her failure lay there in front of her: the Hollow Knight, free from their bindings, from the seals that had ensured their stasis. And despite all the fragile, desperate plans she had spun in the interim, she was still no closer to discovering another stopgap, another method of holding back the infection.

It was finally over.

Hornet shook her head violently, once. She could not afford to think like this. She could not allow herself to be weak. No matter what had happened to the seals, she would find a way to restore them. She would step into the Dream herself if need be. The Radiance could not be unleashed upon the world.

More than just Hallownest would suffer for it.

But where had she gone wrong?

Maybe she had allowed herself to falter one time too many. Maybe she hadn’t been strong enough. Maybe, after countless years spent watching, waiting, her vigilance had slipped.

She hadn’t even been there when her mother’s seal had broken. She hadn’t felt it happen, though she always thought she would.

Herrah had died alone, in her sleep, surrounded by the corpses of her people, and her daughter had not even noticed.

She had sat there for hours before, on days when she could no longer bear the chaos of the falling kingdom. The bedchamber had been a constant, something she could return to and rely upon, always the same restful silence, always the same seals gleaming bright in silk and soul. She had slept at Herrah’s side when she could not sleep anywhere else, had held her mother’s hand and spoke to her and touched her—much as she did now, for Hollow.

Hollow was not Herrah. Hollow, at least, would wake.

Hornet looked down, tracing the gradual curve of their mask as they slept, her thumb grazing the faint seam under their mask where their mouth would open, though she had never seen it. Did they have fangs like her, hidden away behind their jaws? Short, serrated ridges, like the queen? Or rows of jagged teeth that could snap open in threatening display, like their father?

She let her hand drift down from their horn, keeping the pressure of her touch constant while she gave in to curiosity. There were vents there, under their jaw where their mask ended, where their dark skin vanished beneath the lustrous white. Vents that silently eased open and closed in time with their breathing, barely visible but brushing her fingers with a steady flow of air, slightly warm.

The skin itself was bare, soft as velveteen, soft enough to catch lightly on her callused pawpads. It extended down under the thin, hard plating—almost more like scales—that covered their throat. They took after the Pale King in most ways, though parts of their biology were still alien to her, mirroring neither Root nor Wyrm. Perhaps something ancient coded into the void, some impression of life that had once existed there.

All vessels were similar in a few marked ways. The horned masks. The black chitin. The empty, staring eyes. But she had never had cause to linger over them, to wonder at their makeup or compare it to her own. All her other encounters—

Her hand scraped to a stop.

All her other encounters with vessels had ended in death.

Except one.

She took a breath of chilly air that seemed too thin to sustain her. Suddenly she was above herself again, pushed backward and out of her body by the force of realization crashing in.

So many vessels. They flashed in her memory, white mask upon white mask, soulless eyes and little grasping hands, and the ease with which they died, spitted on her needle or strangled in her silk.

It seemed unthinkable, now, but she had never bothered to count them.

How many?

Were they all as Hollow was? Were they—did they feel? Did they fear? Had they longed for company, for sympathy, for mercy, right up until her blade split them open and their shades rushed free?

How many vessels had she murdered?

A high, wheezing whine broke through, and she looked down at Hollow in alarm before realizing her own throat thrummed with the noise, and her hand shook on their mask, and her eyes were burning fierce as fire.

Hornet jerked back, swallowing down the sound before she woke them. They did not stir, exhausted, and she could not blame them.

She had hurt them. But at least they lived.

She could not say the same for the others.

She had thought—she had thought—

But it didn’t matter now, did it? They were dead. They were all dead.

The sobs she had buried earlier clawed their way back to the surface. Her breath came shallow, quick as wingbeats, pathetically high over Hollow’s slow, rasping inhale.

They didn’t wake.

She didn’t think she could bear it if they did. If they looked at her with those fathomless eyes, if they reached out for her, if they trusted her—

They couldn’t know what she’d done in the name of protecting them. The lives she’d ended, the graves she’d dug, the losses she’d never mourned. The losses she had never known to mourn.

In the name of ensuring the stasis. Of preserving the kingdom.

Of extending their suffering.

She’d killed them. She’d killed her siblings.

I didn’t know. I didn’t know—

And it didn’t matter.

The walls were closing in, and when she pushed up on shaking legs it seemed her horns would scrape the gilded ceiling. The room was small, and tight, and damp and cold and suffocating and she couldn’t. She couldn’t. She couldn’t do it anymore.

She staggered to the hearth, where her things lay, and scraped them up, nearly dropping her needle to the floor when her tingling hands fumbled with its weight. The soul vessels and spare knives in the knapsack clattered like breaking glass, and she gasped and pressed them close, afraid to look over her shoulder, afraid to find that she had disturbed them, afraid to meet those eyes again.

They didn’t know, but she would still see her own guilt reflected there. She would see the accusation, the pain.

How many could you have saved?

Why am I the one you chose?

Her shell clenched tight around her heart. Her lungs fluttered wetly against their cage. She needed out. She needed out of this house, out of this city, out of her own crawling skin.

Dizzy, she clutched her belongings to her chest with one hand and fumbled along the wall with the other, feet scuffing along the rug in the dark, eyes burning, unblinking. She had to go. Where, she didn’t know, didn’t care. She had to fly, had to move, had to pry this guilt out of her chest. She needed to run, needed to feel the burn of her legs and the buzz of her silk until the pain in her body drowned out the pain in her soul. She would cut down every husk she saw, drawing the sharp outlines of battle around her mind, etching them again and again until this muddled blur of grief was erased. She would kill and kill until she balanced her scales, until she outweighed the lives taken by her void-stained hands.

How could it ever be enough? How could she ever be enough?

She couldn’t. She couldn’t be. She would never be.

She threw a last desperate glance over her shoulder. Hollow lay crooked on the pallet, knees hanging over the edge, back and side streaked with inky void and smears of tarnished gold, gone dull and dark now that their wounds had finally clotted.

She had saved them.

She had doomed them.

She had done what she had to do.

That wasn’t enough anymore.

Cracked chitin, leaking void. A pale mask, cleaved in two. Soft claws scratching, round eyes bleeding, crying. Limbs going limp, little shades surging free. The accusing glare of those bright, bright eyes.

Hornet choked. Stumbled back, putting the wall between her and them. Her free hand found the door; she had just enough sense left to open it slowly so the hinges would not creak. The key was a swinging weight around her neck; she fumbled it into the lock, turned it with fingers already slippery from the rain.

And if there were tears sliding down her mask amid the chilly tracks of raindrops, if a muffled sob escaped her throat, if she stood hunched against the door for a moment and pressed her hand flat against the timeworn shellwood, if she whispered a weak apology there, a pitiful plea hammered to silence under the pounding rain, before she shoved off and staggered away—

If that was so, there was no one there to see.

○

Hornet ran.

She ran until her knees throbbed, until her thighs trembled, until her arms numbed and her breath rubbed her throat raw. She ran until the rain diminished to drizzle and then to the occasional cold drip, falling with a tick, tick on her dirt-streaked mask.

And when she could run no longer, she flew, needle strung and thrown with frantic rhythm, yanking herself through the whistling air as if pursued by the deadliest of foes.

She had no plan, no direction, and she knew that this was foolish, and she did not care. The burning energy in her core was enough. The quick flicker-blaze of instinct was enough. Anything to keep her from thinking, from remembering the hot-cold sting of void on her shell, the crunch of splintered chitin under her needle, the twitch of a hand or a foot as she stood watching, waiting for the stillness of true death—

Her swing pulled up short and a stone platform slammed into her thorax. Air left her lungs in a sudden gush. Her needle clattered away, out of reach; empty space yawned beneath her scrabbling feet, dust and stones falling through the dim blue distance and vanishing into the fog.

Feet slipped. Claws slid backwards. Panicked, she grated out a hoarse yell, firing off a hectic cloud of silk. A great gout of soul burned up in an instant, manifesting in fine, lashing filaments that wrapped her and the platform both, enveloping her in a clumsy, sticky web that—thankfully—took some of her weight and allowed her to half-climb, half-wriggle up the side, scraping her mask and knocking her knees on the rough surface in the process.

Her legs wouldn’t hold her at the top. Panting, she rolled to safety and lay face-up, left hand feeling sloppily for her needle, though her fingers were too weak to grasp once she found it.

For an instant, a single, blessed instant, she did not think anything at all. The height and the pain and the pounding terror had stripped it all away.

Then the emptiness became a lack, an impression of what was missing, and she remembered.

Murderer.

Something edged out of her throat. A whimper.

Pathetic.

Anything that saw or heard her now would think her easy prey, and she was, lying limp and exhausted in plain sight, in an area she had not even scouted, a cavern she had no indication it was safe to rest in.

Where was she?

Sitting up was one of the hardest things she could think of, but she did it, fighting against the fatigue that dragged at her, against the dizziness that made the drifting mist tilt and sway.

A sense of silence was the first thing that came to her, an eerie incompleteness, with only the faraway dripping of stalactites to break it. No shuffling footsteps or rasping breaths disturbed the quiet, which indicated no husks nearby—at least not the fully mindless types that frequented the City. The air was damp and chill, but grayer, with a clammy, briny scent she recognized immediately. Far away at the end of the room, a steady light flickered, dreamlike, against the ceiling, like a piece of fabric suspended in the air.

That was why the room was so quiet. She was in the caverns beneath the Resting Grounds.

She had fled almost all the way to the Blue Lake.

Fled was the word for it. To leave Hollow alone when they were so vulnerable, when they had deteriorated so quickly the last time she left them, when she knew their fever had still not broken, that she had work yet to do.

And that was only the beginning.

The vessels’ faces intruded on her vision, one blurring into the other, much the same and yet all different, in ways she had never bothered to learn. She had been told that they were mindless, empty, all but husks themselves, and she had never seen any point in differentiating them, in memorizing the shapes of their horns or the drab colors of their cloaks. Never wanted to look deeper than the all-encompassing black that swam behind their eyes, never wanted to ponder what they may have been like before the void consumed them.

She had had enough pain in her life. She saw no use in inflicting more. Imagining who the vessels may have been, the kind of life they might have had, would never make her less alone. It would never make them family.

And everything she had put off then, every thought she had tried to bury and every stray fantasy she had folded away—all of them were crowding her now.

Small and weak, most of them had been. Easy to finish off. Tenacious, though in a blind, single-minded way that she attributed to whatever sub-sentience the void bestowed. They wanted what the void wanted, which was oneness. Unity. And they would never stop pursuing that, at the cost of what remained of Hallownest.

That goal drove them to attempt to unseal the Hollow Knight.

None of them had gotten very far, thanks to her.

She coughed, hard and long, and when she could draw breath again it rattled almost as much as Hollow’s. The muted blue-gray of the cavern drained to black and white for a moment until she steadied herself, and blinked, and deliberately pulled in one breath, then two.

Were the vessels only ever doing what she would have done for one of her own kind? Were they the only ones who might have understood how much Hollow suffered?

How could she have killed them for it?

Blindly, movements stiff and rote, Hornet dragged her needle to her side and levered herself up with it, standing as well as she could with her legs still trembling like leaves. Even with her energy shriveled to ashes, even as her throat burned with every breath, she could not stop. She could still run. She had to. She would run until—

Until—

She would just run.

Her needle bounced off the rock with her first throw, and she cursed as she reeled it back in, the silk running cool as water through her too-warm palms. She needed soul again, and soon; she’d consumed far too much of her reserve in that frantic silk-storm. That kind of undisciplined use was exactly what her tutors had had to hammer out of her.

At least it had kept her alive.

She huffed a cracked laugh and threw again, aiming for the rippling light, then swung from the platform and into the air.

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