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#monsters inside blank pages au
bluecatwriter · 6 months
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This idea, based on the Blood of My Blood AU, got stuck in my head and I had to write it! (Sorry @animate-mush, the cylinders didn't make it into this scene because I was trying to keep it from being like 10,000 words long, alas.) Featuring Jack with his prosthetic hand and destroyed vocal cords, and Vampire Quincey Harker trying to make sense of what he is.
Big TW for suicidal ideation.
~~~
Jack was up late, as usual; he'd just heard the clock strike midnight, but he was scribbling corrections on the latest draft of his paper about therapeutic treatments for epilepsy, due the day after tomorrow to a scientific journal. He paused to push up his glasses and scrub at his eyes. Even though he'd been keeping a nocturnal existence for years, he felt exhausted.
He heard a soft knock on his door.
He looked up in surprise; Lu was usually fast asleep by now, and Arthur would not have knocked. But why would one of the servants be disturbing him at this hour? He turned his pen over and tapped it against his desk three times, which signaled to come in. However, the door didn't open, and then the knock came again. Ah. He knew exactly who it was, now.
He walked quickly to the door and opened it. Quincey Harker stood in the pitch-black hallway, his pupils contracting as light from Jack's study flooded in on him. He was even paler than usual, and trembling slightly.
It was remarkable how much he managed to look like both Jonathan and Mina: he carried himself like his father, that same grave politeness, but had the quick, clever look about him that Mina had always had. "Dr. Seward," he said, his voice sounding empty. "I need to talk to you."
Whatever he was here for, it couldn't be good. Jack nodded to him, ushering him inside, and gesturing him over to his desk. He cleared the papers and set up a one-handed typewriter (they had one in every room of the house, in case Jack needed to mention some technical language that they didn't have a sign for yet). He bade Quincey pull up a chair so they could sit next to each other, and he put in a fresh sheet of paper. He wished Quincey knew his sign language, but this would have to do for now.
Jack gestured to him, raising both eyebrows to invite him to speak. 
Quincey hesitated a long time, clenching and unclenching his hands on his knees. At last, he spoke with a dead serious voice. "Dr. Seward, I need you to kill me."
For an instant, he couldn't breathe.
He heard Mina's voice in her son's: the vow he had taken, the vow he had failed. 
But he also heard his own words, typed out on a typewriter very much like this one, letter by letter since he wasn't fluent yet, as Arthur stood there with tears in his eyes. 
>>Let me die<< Jack had typed, all those years ago. 
And Arthur had said, "No."
(That day, Jack had grabbed the typewriter with his remaining hand and hurled it through the window.)
(And then he had kept living.)
He shook his head, trying to rattle himself back into the present moment, to this child— this vampire child, this child who should not be able to exist— trembling in the chair before him. Quincey was staring at his hands now, his breath stuttering as if trying to hold back tears, and Jack had to reach over to touch his shoulder to get him to look up at him.
Quincey raised his head; his eyes were brimming with what appeared to be blood, which sent a stab of alarm through Jack before he wondered if this was how vampires cried. Focus, he told himself. He reached out to the typewriter and typed one word on the blank page:
>>Why?<<
Quincey gritted his teeth, and held his chin up almost defiantly. God, he looked just like Jonathan right then. "Because I am a monster."
Jack stared at him: the blood welling up as tears, the pallor of his skin, the fangs protruding from his mouth. All the elements that had once raised only fear and terror and disgust in himself. 
Without looking away from him, Jack placed his hand on the typewriter and typed out the words: >>Who told you that?<<
Quincey stared at him as if the answer should be obvious, and Jack raised his eyebrows again, keeping his face calm.
"I read the journals that Lord Godalming gave me," Quincey said, staring at him as if challenging him. 
Jack gave out a small, pained sound, and slumped back in his chair. Of course Arthur would do something like that. Of course Arthur would want to share the documents, to not keep secrets. And yet, Arthur had so little to lose by doing so: he had barely any words of his own in the collection of documents. But Jack's words… all those things he had said and done, the record of his wrongs and mistakes, seemed to rise from the past and choke him.
"I read Papa's words," Quincey continued, still staring him down with those crimson eyes, "the stories of the way he met Father. Everything I've known— everything I am— is horrifying to him." His gaze was steady, but his fangs bared. "And to all of you." The blood-tears slipped from one of his eyes and dripped down his face. "I need you to kill me."
Jack reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. Then he decisively shook his head, and mouthed the word, No.
"You have to!" Quincey burst out, shaking off Jack's hand and jumping to his feet. "You know what I am! I've learned what I am through your words. I thought you of all people would understand!" He whirled to face him again, and the snarl on his face sent all the hair on Jack's neck rising in instinctive fear. "What about Lu's namesake? You were disgusted by her. You loathed her. You said yourself that you would kill her with pleasure when she became like— like me!" He was shaking so hard he looked like he might fall apart.
Jack fought to keep his expression calm; every word hit him like a knife, as if Jonathan's son was slashing into his throat as surely as Jonathan had. (Any moment he would wake up drowning in his own blood…) But these were old wounds, and though they bled anew, the pain was familiar.
Once again, Quincey seemed to have forgotten that Jack could only talk when Quincey was looking at him, and he had to put a hand on his shoulder again. Quincey pulled away, but he had his attention now. Jack motioned to the chairs, and Quincey sank down, blood-tears now trickling down his face.
Jack hesitated a long moment, unsure how to sum up everything he wanted to say. No, it was impossible. So he typed three words:
>>I was wrong.<< 
Jack gulped, staring at the inadequate words he'd typed. He looked at Quincey with all the remorse he felt, wishing desperately that Quincey understood sign language. It was like being back to the beginning of his great silence, when all he could do was scrawl illegible words on paper, or pick at the typewriter to learn to type for the first time. He pointed at the words again, and with his prosthetic hand he beat his breast in a sign of penitence.
Quincey just stared at him, at a loss. Jack made a nervous hum, then started to type, trying to get his typed words to keep pace with his thoughts.
>>You don't have the whole story. When your mum began to turn, your papa loved her just as much. He never stopped loving her.<< He paused, making the only rumbling sound that his throat would make, frustrated at how hard it was to put his thoughts into words this way. >>In the end, he defended her from us. I paid the price for trying to harm her.<<
Quincey's eyes grew wide. He had stopped crying, and the blood was drying on his face now. 
Jack held up his prosthetic hand meaningfully, and touched the scar that snaked along his neck. And how could he convey the enormity of the other losses— of Quincey and Van Helsing bleeding out in the snow? He would never forgive the Harkers for that. But he did not need to. >>I did what I thought I must do. So did he.<< 
He might not have forgiven them, but he did not blame them.
Quincey slumped in his chair, his shoulders dropping. When he looked up, there was something incredibly young and vulnerable in his face. "…Doesn't that make you hate me even more?"
The old Jack would have hated him, perhaps. But he was not his old self. He was not a 29-year-old who felt invincible in his pride and intelligence. He was not a man who drew hard lines and separated everything he experienced into those two sides. He was fifty now, silent for 21 years, and had learned to live with the complexity of gray, of nuance, of the ache of not knowing. 
If Quincey could understand, he could have signed all this. But Quincey could not, so Jack just typed, >>You are proof that love can survive in all places.<< He paused, then added, >>You are a good man.<<
He didn't expect Quincey to burst into tears again, but he did, hunching over in his chair and sobbing. Once, Jack had not known what to do when someone broke down, but now he did not hesitate, leaning over and wrapping both arms around the boy. Quincey leaned into his hug, still sobbing messily. "I'm not, I'm not!" Quincey wailed. "I'm not…" 
Jack wished that he could speak the words aloud, could repeat over and over, You are a good man.
Instead he just hugged him, holding him as he rode the wave of emotions, trying to help him learn, as Jack himself had once learned, that the answer to Please let me die would always be No.
At last Quincey cried himself out, and his breaths grew longer and slower. Jack pulled away and offered him a handkerchief, trying his best not to be unnerved by the amount of blood-tears that had marked his jacket (Arthur was going to have another nervous breakdown when he saw the stains, he thought with a sigh).
When he had Quincey's attention again, he pulled out the sheet of paper, and tore off the last line, pressing it into his hand. >>You are a good man.<< Jack smiled at him as best he could, willing him to believe it.
Quincey gulped. And then slowly, he nodded, crinkling the paper in his hand. With a little sob, he slumped over again, resting his head on Jack's shoulder. Jack pulled him back into a tight embrace.
He doubted that Quincey believed him, at least not at the moment. But he didn't need to. Jack and Lu and hopefully even Arthur would believe it for him. And someday, he hoped that Quincey would believe it for himself, too.
~~~
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twisted-art-wounders · 5 months
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YGO AU Leviathan Rising: Epilogue
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I'll always come back to you...
And that's a wrap folks! I want to thank everyone whose read and kept up with this story over the past year and half! This was my first long form fan fic basically ever and it feels good to know so many of you enjoyed reading it and I truly am grateful for all your encouragement and kind words!
I'll hopefully have a new one started in the coming year so look out for that! Anyway Happy New Year and let's hope for a safe and and fun welcome in 2024!
Epilogue
A low beep was heard as the door clicked open; Yugi stepped into his apartment work bag over his shoulder jacket under his right arm phone in his left hand, and under his left arm a pile of mail. Yugi closed the door silently and kicked off his shoes in the entry way so he could slip on a pair of slippers. He walked into his living room his eyes not leaving his phone screen as he plopped his work bag and jacket on the side of the couch.
He was trying to order dinner with the new dinner speedy app Kaiba Corp had just rolled out; He wanted to try this new burger place just a block of two down the street form his complex, while he could just go and pick it up he had to stand up on the bus all the way home today. So a further walk was far form his mind this was a job for delivery! Even if it would cost him and extra 5 dollars it didn't matter when your feet where already tired.
Once the order was placed (it'd be about 40 mins of course.) Yugi finally plopped down on the couch and let out a miserable sigh. As much as he liked working on contract with Kaiba Corp, Kaiba was a still Kaiba and was always demanding perfection especially form someone as 'elite' as himself. Yugi missed just working in grandpa's shop, while the pay wasn't a lot and he already had to supplement his income doing other part time jobs he missed just serving new costumers who had an interest in gaming. That was the most rewarding part to be honest; money can't replace the connection you feel when a young person's face lights up when receiving their first game, or pack of cards etc. That's what Yugi loved the most.
He stretched a bit on the couch before remembering he had mail to check! While sorting out what was junk and what was a bill he did remember seeing a large manila envelope among the pile. Flipping past the other letters he found the larger envelope, it was stiff like a harder cardboard was used in it's making and covered in “Priority Express” stickers.
“Must be important.” He thought as he looked at the address of the sender and he nearly chocked, written in plan English it spelled 'From The Office of Maximilian Pegasus, Industrial Illusions, California USA'
Yugi was having flashbacks to just under 7 years ago when he first received a package form the creator of Duel Monsters himself Maximilian Pegasus. The tape that started everything… The journey to Duellist Kingdom, becoming closer to his other self, defeating Pegasus together. So many memories came back to Yugi, as much as he tried to repress how lonely he felt when remembering his other self…no Atem. Yugi sniffled and rubbed away a tear he swore he was over this but alas his heart would always carry Atem in it no matter how many worlds apart they where now.
Yugi let out a breath slowly as he turned the envelope over to open it; He wasn't sure exactly what Pegasus wanted this time the last time he sent another tape it was because of- Yugi had to pause again his heart sunk again thinking about someone else who was also part of his heart and who was also gone…
Yugi pressed on and continued to open the envelope but inside wasn't a tape, he figured as much a tape would never fit this format besides they where well past the use of tapes at this point. Inside there was a blank cardboard card sleeve and a a folded letter with the I2 insignia pressed in wax over it. He pulled out both and decided to open the letter first. On the page was a typed letter addressed to him form the sender:
Yugi Boy! It's been so long!
I know this seems so crude to write you a letter instead of an email, or a even a face talk message. Call me old fashioned but I find nothing is more personal then a typed and properly mailed letter in the mail! It's been well over 7 years since you and I had a chit chat hm? You've accomplished quite a lot I hear; working with dear old Kaiba boy on your newest game project, I must say you always had the makings of being a great creator and I wasn't wrong! I look forward to Spherium and any other new games you have brewing in that mind of yours.
Speaking of creativity I find the art of creation can be such an odd thing; one moment you're canvas is blank with absolutely no ideas at all for months, years even! Then suddenly without warning poof! A muse comes into your mind and begins to implant inspiration, and it just wont leave until it's out and brought into the world. You can say I was bitten with such an inspirational muse that it almost felt like it was willing itself into creation through me.
I know you will treasure this card not for it's rarity but for what you feel you may be missing in it. It's one of a kind and made just for you and you alone Yugi-boy and I have a feeling you and this card have a powerful and spiritual connection to each other.
Anyway don't be a stranger! And enjoy your card Yugi Boy!
Signed, Maximilian Pegasus
Yugi blinked a few times after reading the letter, it was true he had a bit of an odd relationship with Pegasus. He was a former enemy and the holder of the millennium eye but he was also integral to their defeat of DOMA all those years ago. So Yugi held no real ill will towards the man, he just found it a bit odd Pegasus had made him a card?
Finally Yugi took the card sleeve into his hands and carefully popped it open to reveal the card inside. Yugi's eyes widened he felt his hands shake slightly trying to keep a grip on the card, his breathing slowed down as the world around him became silent. He could feel tears start to well up in the corners of his eyes and slow drop down his cheek.
He sniffled a few times as he looked over the card barely able to keep his composer anymore; the card was a legendary dragon knight card juts like Timeaus was but instead of his old partner who bore the name of 'Legendary Knight Timeus' instead the card read “Legendary Knight Leviathan”.
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Yugi could hardly speak as he sobbed, but it wasn't all in sorrow he was just so happy that after all these years, Levi had finally accomplished his goal…and he was happy even if his tears seemed to betray that.
“Levi…I'm so happy you made your dream come true…” Yugi bent forward and pressed the card to his forehead allowing his tears to drop freely into his knees.
“I miss you so much…I just want to see you again…” Yugi whispered to himself closing his eyes.
He didn't notice that the card began to glow and shine, the image on the card started to fade away as a solid figure started to emerge before Yugi. Still lost in his sadness it was not until the figure spoke did he finally look up.
“Yugi?”
Yugi's eyes shot open quickly as he snapped upright coming face to face with this new figure standing in his living room. He was a towering man in dark purple, pink and teal armour, long dark and curled hair that went past his shoulders stopping just at his lower back, his bangs where teal and long covering parts of his ears that where long and pointed at the tip. His eyes where a golden yellow and behind him was a long-spiked tail with two separate ends
He knew who this was but he still couldn't believe it! There was no way it could be him!
“Le-Levi?” Yugi squeaked out as he stood up quickly starting up and down at the man, who stood in place a gentle smile graced his mouth as he nodded.
“Y-yes Yugi…it's me…” Levi spoke so gently, after all these years his voice while powerful still held such kindness inside.
Yugi was still in shock he couldn't believe it! It had to be a trick or just his mind was playing games with him. He tried to move towards Levi but he lost his balance and fell ready to go down face first, only to fall into Levi's waiting arms quickly catching him before he could hit the ground.
Levi looked down at him with worry.
“Yugi! Are you alright?”
Yugi was now able to feel that this was no mirage or illusion the man in his living room was real. He nodded looking up and into the tall man's eyes and in them he saw it; he saw Levi's kindness, his determination, his stubbornness. All of it was still in there, this was his Leviathan.
“I guess you have fallen for me now huh?” Levi chuckled helping Yugi back onto his feet. “I've missed you my sweet prince…”
Yugi's eyes where full of tears again as he jumped into Levi's chest and embraced him as tightly as he could. Levi allowed him to and closed his arms around Yugi returning the embrace whole heatedly.
“You're back! You're really back! You're here again! I- I can touch you again!” Yugi cried joyfully.
“Yes I'm back! And I wont leave you again…I promise.” Levi had tears in his eyes now as he too allowed them to flow down his cheeks.
All he wanted was to feel Yugi in his arms again and finally he achieved it. Their embrace was tight neither one wanting to ever let the other one go, even if Yugi knew it was selfish to wish this, he didn't want this feeling to end he didn't want to feel alone anymore. He prayed and hopped Leviathan's words where true he would never leave him again…
They both let go of each other just enough to look each other in the eyes, Yugi's face was red form crying but he had a wide smile on his face. While Levi had to bend more to look at Yugi do this it didn't bother him in the slightest. His face was a bit red as well while he didn't cry as hard as Yugi had been he wasn't immune to the blood filling his cheeks reddening his skin. As orchid eyes met with golden eyes their faces came closer together until finally they could feel each other lips pressed tightly against each other. A kiss they both had long since wished and waited to share with each other.
Releasing form their kiss they both panted slightly and gazed into each others eyes once more. Pulling away slightly Levi stood back up to his full height, Yugi was amazed with just how large Leviathan had grown he was even taller then Kaiba! Holding hands they stared longingly towards each others the sun light form the evening sky started to fill the room in a warm evening glow. The moment was broken when Yugi's phone pinged reminding him his order was almost ready for delivery.
“Uhh…so…Are you ready to try a real hamburger?” Yugi blushed
Levi smiled allowing his fangs to be seen slightly “Only if we share it.”
The End.
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Note
Fav Peeta moment or quote in each books?
(Please tag other blog who want answer too)
Thank you 😊
@curiouspeetamellark
Oooooh, this is hard because Peeta is my favorite character in the series. Let's see... I'm doing both moment and quote because my favorite moments don't have my favorite quotes.
The Hunger Games:
Moment:The cave scene is the obvious choice, but I absolutely adore when he's teasing her in the river to help ease her stress over his injury. That scene just really highlights his easy-going, self-deprecating humor and I love him for it. Not caring if she and the entire country see him naked? Iconic.
Quote: I stand by this being the most important quote in the series because it shapes Katniss' narrative and how she moves forward in the series. And also because it proves Peeta isn't some weak character.
"I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not...No, when the time comes, I'm sure I'll kill just like everybody else. I can't go down without a fight. Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to--to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games," says Peeta.
Catching Fire:
Moment: Listen, Peeta Mellark shines in this book. Shines like the sparkling pearl that he is. Collins made him shine because she knew what she was going to do to him in Mockingjay and wanted us (and Katniss) to hurt. There are so many moments I could choose.
But my favorite moment probably in the whole series if I'm being honest is when Peeta gets knocked out by the force field and Katniss freaks the eff out, slapping him in the face, flabbergasted when Finnick starts kissing CPR, shoves Finnick out of the way when he comes to, AND THE FIRST THING PEETA SAYS IS "Careful. There's a force field ahead." LIKE. SIR. YOU JUST DIED. YOUR GALLOWS HUMOR IS SHOWING. And then he COMFORTS KATNISS AFTER JUST DYING. A true star. We stan Peeta Mellark in this household.
And then the fact that this moment is Peeta's true death sentence because it's what convinces Snow that Peeta can truly be used against Katniss???? *chef's kiss*
Quote: I am a simple woman and Katniss observing him drawing always gets to me. Look at them, being a normal couple for once, drawing on the couch while her foot heals. Just look at these two idiots.
“I like to watch his hands as he works, making a blank page bloom with strokes of ink, adding touches of color to our previously black and yellowish book. His face takes on a special look when he concentrates. His usual easy expression is replaced by something more intense and removed that suggests an entire world locked away inside him... I don't know quite what to make of it. I also become a little fixated on his eyelashes, which ordinarily you don't notice much because they're so blond. But up close, in the sunlight slanting in from the window, they're a light golden color and so long I don't see how they keep from getting all tangled up when he blinks.”
Mockingjay:
Moment/Quote: I absolutely love when Katniss and Peeta talk for the first time since his hijacking. That scene is incredible and proves Everlark would be incredibly obnoxious in a modern au if/when they ever broke up because that's literally what Mockingjay is with war thrown in. The pain and anger in this scene. Katniss' frustration. Peeta's hard, observant words. I eat this stuff up like it's cake.
"I must have loved you a lot."
"You did." My voice catches and I pretend to cough.
"And did you love me?" he asks.
I keep my eyes on the tiled floor. "Everyone says I did. Everyone says that's why Snow had you tortured. To break me."
"That's not an answer," he tells me.
Thanks for asking, dearie! I think everyone who would do this has already done it, so anyone who wants to talk about Peeta and how awesome he is, I tag you!
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cronni · 5 years
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AU idea
A Sanders Sides/Supernatural AU, but the Sides are monsters and Thomas is a human searching for supernatural stuff
Ok, I don't know where this ideia came from, but stay with me here.
(Note: Idk if it's going to be really long this post, so I'll tag it as a long post since Tumblr app sucks to put a Read More
Also, Deceit and Remus are in this AU so... TW to yall)
Summary of this AU:
Thomas is a writer that believes in the supernatural and wants to prove it. So he leaves his home for a while to travel to try to find it and make a book about his findings (with photos and stuff cause you know... the guy needs proof)
Meanwhile, you have a house with 6 monsters that are living together and trying to not bring attention of a monster hunter or something else
So, when Thomas reached a small town, needing somewhere to sleep, a guy named Patton appears and say that he can stay with him and his friends, as longs as he doesn't causes trouble and help to pay some stuff
Thomas accepts, after all he didn't have where to sleep anyway (it was a small town, but it didn't have hotels or stuff for some reason) and the guy seemed pretty trustworthy
Everything is normal, everything is cool... Until one guy, that Thomas swears that he looked like Patton just hours ago, turns into some sort of twin of himself, and that's where the storyline really kicks in.
What each Side would be in this AU:
- Logan: Bargain/Crossroad Demon
- Patton: Revenant Ghost (they're ghosts that are corporeal and doesn't know that they're dead)
- Roman: Siren (but not the singing type... their lure and seducing stuff comes from a type of venom in their mouth)
- Virgil: Reaper (yep, the famous Angels of Death, the classics here-)
- Deceit: Shapeshifter
- Remus: Djinn (but he's the ones that feeds and kills using the person's fears and creates nightmares)
- Thomas: Human (he's normal I swear-)
(And yes, I thought about putting Remy and Emile as Monster Hunters or another type of people or just another monsters, but I couldn't decide so they're not around yet)
Now comes my biggest problem here.
Should I:
Make it a multichapter story (and probably a series with multiple oneshots as well cause background stories)
or
Make it a Ask Blog (you guys would be able to talk to everyone inside the story and yes, it would still have a storyline; I can't draw but I can write I swear-)?
I kinda know how I can make it work in both formats, but I just can't decide lmao
If someone had any opinions on the matter, I would love to know
(I also would love to know if I should develop this AU in the first place cause it seems kinda of a dumb idea when I think about posting it-)
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subpar-ghoulfriend · 3 years
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A Family Affair
Slasher AU CannibalFamily!EraserMicxReader
We’re going with the “strange family that lives outside of a small town” trope. After a few deliveries to the Aizawa household you get pulled in to an affair you never wanted to be a part of. 
Spooky season is upon us and I’ve already begun watching too many horror movies.  This fic will definitely be a two parter
Super Dark Content Warning!!! Literally do not read if you have any reservation and definitely no minors!
TW: cannibal themes, mentions of murder, mentions of corpse mutilation, kidnapping, unhealthy relationships
Part 2 is gonna include more of this and the smut
Growing up you were grateful for living in a small town. You didn't really relate to the coming-of-age stories told in the movies where the small town girl runs off to the big city for a whirlwind romance and a chance at some "big break." To you, small town life was more picturesque than any overcrowded city. You knew your neighbors, and watched a lot of their families grow and change throughout the years. A small town allows you to become a regular at several businesses, including the coffee shop and your favorite diner downtown. Going away to college was tough even though you didn't go far. The nearest city - a little over 40 miles away - had a great college with a program you were really interested in pursuing.
You went home every break and picked up delivery jobs at one of the local restaurants. It was winter break of your last year in college when you first delivered to the Aizawa residence. In all your years at the restaurant they never ordered delivery, one of the two men would always place an order for pick up. The thing about small town stereotypes is that small towns tend to self-impose said stereotypes. The Aizawa's were that family. The one that everyone whispered when they came to town and children would tell horror stories about during Halloween. They were the weird family that lived just past the outskirts of town.
You weren't entirely sure what either of the two men did. Everyone speculated that Mr. Aizawa was some sort of mountain-man-feral type and maybe did some mechanic work for the folks that tend to live in between towns. His husband, Mr. Yamada seemed like the stay at home trophy husband but you heard he did some sort of conspiracy podcast. They had children - reportedly, but no one has really met them - and other family members that live similarly further out into the middle of nowhere. The drive was absurdly long but they were loyal customers and the owners didn't want to turn their request down. Your boss handed you a chunk of bills to fill up your tank before heading out. That's no place you'd want to get stranded, he told you.
The paved road got worse the further you got from town. Forty-five minutes later you were pulling down the dirt road that led to the illuminated Aizawa home. A wall of cold air slammed in to you when you opened your car door and you grumbled about leaving your gloves at home. There was no doorbell, so knocked and did that awkward please-don't-let-me-freeze dance while you waited. Two unfamiliar faces opened the door, an apathetic looking teen and an adorable little girl. Must be their children. The older one called out for his dad before taking one of the bags you held and disappearing into the home. You looked down awkwardly and wave at the girl. She smiled shyly and reached out for the other bag.
"Are you sure?" You asked her, "It's a little heavy."
She nodded.
"Okay, but use two hands," You passed her the bag. "Oh jeez, you're strong. Don't tell your brother, but I think this is the heavier bag."
You smiled when she giggled and ran off.
Mr. Aizawa appeared in the door, "How much do we owe?"
He was just as terrifying up close and for a split second your mind went blank while your basic instincts were begging you go back to the car. He raised an eyebrow at you, looking irritated at your falter.
"Uh - forty-two."
He pulled counted out a chunk of bills and then you were off. You didn't even count the amount until you parked. Forty-two with a forty-dollar tip. They may be odd but apparently they're loaded. You didn't think much of it until the following week when you were heading back to their house with another delivery. You wished that they would order earlier but at least you could hope for another generous tip. You were taken aback when the little girl answered the door by herself, jumping up and down with excitement.
Was she old enough to answer the door by herself?
"Papa," She yelled. "The lady is here!"
She turned her attention back to you with a huge grin, "Shinsou got sore that you told me I'm the stronger one."
Before you could respond to her the other man, Mr. Yamada, bounced around the corner, "Eri, what have we told you about the door? Oh no, you must be freezing come stand inside while I go get your payment. Forty-two right?"
You wanted to protest, feeling uneasy in their entryway but the little girl tugged you by the delivery bags. So you stood there quietly while she ran back in forth so she could unload the delivery for you. Shinsou peered around the corner so you gave a small wave. Then it was just you and Eri once again. In the background you could hear Yamada asking his husband where the wallet went.
"I like your shirt," You smiled, trying to fill the silence.
"I wanted a Pegasus shirt but this was the only one my daddy could find."
"Well I think unicorns are pretty cool too."
You use to babysit for some of the families in town, no part of you could imagine doing that all the way out here.
The blonde rejoined you, giving you another lush payment. You heard the little girl whine about you leaving so quickly until her father appeased her by saying you'd be back.
Something about that rubbed you the wrong way; but you were back like clockwork the next week with their usual delivery. Once again you were brought inside while they went to get your payment. But on your fourth and what should have been your final delivery of the winter break you noticed something was off when you parked. Their truck was missing from its usual spot. Strange but they probably just moved it somewhere else on the property. You had become accustom Eri running to answer the door and telling you wait for her parents in the entrance of the house. You became suspicious after she had run back and forth to take the food to the kitchen.
"Eri, where are your parents? Or Shinsou?"
The little girl's response was nonchalant, "They had to go out, one of our cattle got out. But they gave me the money."
You stuffed the money into your jacket; payment was the issue here. In the back of your mind you though about how you never saw any cattle on your deliveries. A child her age shouldn’t be left alone.
"Oh, well, can I hang out with you while we wait for them to come back?"
The little girl lit up as she pulled you to the living room. There was a kid's movie playing on the TV and she had a coloring book out. Eri divide up her crayons and tore out a page for you to join her. You kept looking to the window, waiting for the truck to pull up.
Suddenly there was banging at the door, which elicited a cry from Eri. You reached into your pocket only finding the crumpled bills. Shit, your stomach dropped. You left your phone in your car. After all, this was just supposed to be a quick delivery. The noise stopped, only for a moment, before resuming.
"Eri, sweetie," You whispered to the stunned little girl. "Do your parents have a phone here?"
She shook her head.
A man’s voice tore through the door, "Let me in dammit, you have to let me in before they come back."
You held your finger to your lip, and Eri nodded, repeating the gesture. The living room light was on and you realized that if he came to the side of the house you'd be seen through the window, but turning out the light would draw attention. Maybe he was bluffing, maybe he didn't know if anyone was inside and turning off the light would signal your presence. You pointed to the kitchen, where the lights were off and the two of you tip toed to the safety of darkness.
"Eri, honey, can you go sit in the pantry for me and be really, really quiet? I'll be right out here and don't come out until I come to get you okay?"
She looked hesitant and tearful but you were surprised at her level of composure for a kid. Finally she complied. Once the pantry door was closed you began rummaging through the drawers, looking for something that could inflict the most damage. A meat tenderizer could work. The banging continued and you swore you hear wood beginning to splinter. Your grip tightened with every bang. Finally the door gave way and a man stumbled through the splintered wood. He stopped when he saw you holding the cleaver.
He was dirty, without shoes or a shirt and his skin was red from the cold.
You hoped your voice wouldn’t crack, "You need to leave-"
"Monsters, monsters," he blabbed. "They're gonna come back and we gotta go."
You decided to bluff, "Get out of here, I already called the cops."
"Good, good, good," He mumbled, “but we still gotta go. NOW."
There was one step forward from him, one step back from you.
"If you come near me, I'll make sure you don't get up," You warned. At the very least you had to keep him away from Eri. Even if that was all you could do.
There was a desperate look in his eyes; they darted from you to the keys hooked to your jeans, then back to the keys. Finally he smiled, "You have a car, man that's perfect. Listen I won't hurt you but we need to get in your damn car, now."
Sounds like something someone who wants to hurt me would say, you thought. Apparently you took too long to respond, the man lunged toward you and you tried to swing the meat tenderizer. The tool connected with his shoulder and he howled out in pain but still managed to wrestle you to the ground. The two of you struggled with each other and the man was yelling that you'd die if you didn't listen to him. You landed a weak hit to his jaw, splitting his lip. You even tried biting at him but he was persistent and struggling to get your keys. You were telling him he could have them that he just needed to let you go but he wasn't listening to you. Managing to grab his ear you had a flashback to the self-defense seminar you had to take in college, it should be easy to rip a human ear. So you pulled. Blood began to flow from the wound down his face and on to you. He got you off him before you got the whole ear by delivering a blow to your stomach. The air rushed from your body, is this what it means to get the wind knocked out of you?
There was a loud noise and fog lights flooded through the broken door. Then saw Shinsou and Aizawa pulling the man off you. You pushed yourself and back, clutching at your stomach. Your cheeks were wet. Were you crying or was that blood on your face? Probably both.
The trio wrangled the man outside where you heard more struggling, fighting, and groaning.
Eri.  You managed your way to the kitchen but realized you were covered in blood. Not wanting to traumatize the little girl any further you spoke through the door.
"Eri, can you stay there a little bit longer?"
"Can't I come out? I heard my daddies," She cried, tugging at your heartstrings.
"Not yet, okay? They're here and everything's okay, I'm gonna have them come get you okay?"
Thankfully, the door didn't open. As you shuffled toward the front door Mr. Yamada entered, wiping specks of blood off him.
You were shocked when he pulled you into a hug, "You're okay. Sho and Shinsou got everything under control. Where is Eri?"
You told him about her hiding spot and he sighed in relief and rushed to her.
The other two returned with bloodied knuckles that made your stomach churn.
"Yamada," The mountain man called, with his eyes scanning the home.
"Don't worry, Sho, I got Eri. She's fine. Our delivery girl is okay, she's got some bumps and bruises but she made the other guy look worse."
Aizawa ushered you to the couch, expecting your legs to give out at any moment.
"We need to call the police," You finally spoke.
Aizawa assured you he did. They were 45 minutes out but they'd work on getting here faster. Yamada brewed you a cup of tea, “for while we wait.” They finally calmed Eri down and Shinsou took her upstairs to get ready for bed. It felt weird for them to return to mundane evening routines so quickly after all that chaos, but maybe you were just the odd one out. Close to an hour later you were still waiting for the police to show up. Your tea was finished long ago and your nerves had calmed. You were even having trouble keeping your eyes open.
"You think they're almost here, babe" The blonde wondered, draping a throw blanket around your shoulders. "I'm sure she wants to this day to be over with."
---
It was still dark when you woke up. The blonde was fast asleep on the recliner next to you. The police must have come by now but there was no way you slept through the visit. Anxiety from earlier made it’s way back in to your chest. The clock read 4am; had they even called the police. All of the childhood rumors you heard came flooding back and you exited the house as quietly as you could, not realizing your keys were no longer with you.
When you made it outside you noticed dried blood on the ground, trailing toward what you assumed was their barn or storage shed. You were entranced. Looking back to the house, no one was awake; there was no movement, no light, just quiet. You shouldn’t follow the bloody trail, you shouldn't go near the shed; but your body moved on it's own accord and before you realized it you were at the doors. You gave a tug, expecting it to be locked, but the door swung open and inside you noticed the lock lay on the ground.
You should have turned around, got in your car, and drove away. Instead you stepped inside and found the bloody, broken body of the man who attacked you. There was a slight sway to the corpse that was hanging from a reinforced pillar. Nearly screaming your hand shot to cover your mouth.
You should've left.
You should've left.
You should've left.
Aizawa was watching you from the kitchen, cursing Hizashi for leaving the shed unlocked. His hand hovered over the secured cabinet drawer that stored a pistol. He wouldn't shoot you only scare you a bit. But you weren't running out in a panic. He didn't even hear you scream. Interesting. He went to join you, moving like any predator concealing it presence and leaving the gun safe untouched.
You should've left.
You should've left.
You finally came to your sense and whirled around only to run into your late night admirer. A terrified squeak escaped you as you jumped further into the confined space.
"Mr Aizawa! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have - I'm sorry."
He didn't look angry, although you wished he did. It would be better than the unsettling smile on his face.
"That's alright, I was heading out here anyway," He closed the door behind him and flicked on a dim light that lit up the room with shadows. "Can't leave it hanging for too long."
Your throat tightened, he stood between you and the only exit. If he noticed your terror there was no indication that he cared. He turned his back to you momentarily, rummaging through the clutter on the workbench. Now was the best chance you may get and you made a dash for the door. It was a futile attempt and part of you knew it but your nerves were ablaze with adrenaline and you were running on instinct not reason. There was a foreign tightness around your throat that kept you fighting to inhale. Struggling to breathe you didn’t even register the sharp pinch of a needle piercing your deltoid.
Aizawa pressed his nose to your hair, "Behave. Even if you get out of here, your tire has a flat, pesky nails tend to find their way on to the roads out here. A real shame."
He dragged you over to a chair across from the lifeless body cuffing both your wrists to the armrests. Stupid, stupid, he was grabbing out cuffs and I ran straight into him, you scolded yourself. You went to open your mouth and beg to be let go, but you were silenced.
"Keep it down or I'll have to find a way to keep you quiet."
Your heart was beating so hard it hurt. Once a friend said it was possible to die by fright, if that was true you wouldn't last much longer. Now that you were safely out of the way, Aizawa could make quick work dismembering the carcass. He donned his usual rubber apron and pulled back his hair. With his experience he could finish the job in less than two hours. Now was as good a time as ever for you to learn.
With a sigh he began his explanation and craft:
"Cannibalism has been around as long as we've existed: sacrificially, ceremonially, culturally, especially during times of plague, war, and famine. You can find documented accounts from pretty much every part of the world. And there's no one reason. Our family keeps it simple. We eat meat, animals are meat, and humans are animals. In times of famine and other hardships, this was a reliable food source. Of course now, there's not much of a risk for severe famine to effect people like us but it's tradition. This is how it's been for our family for years. And not just those of us around these parts but our relatives everywhere. It's important to keep old trades alive."
He paused, now splattered with blood, to take note of your dry heaving.
"Please," You gasped. "I just want to go -"
With narrowed eyes he continued:
"It's important for you to listen to our family history. Typically we don't reap a harvest until three weeks after the winter solstice and 3 weeks before the summer solstice. Twice a year is enough to get us by. Zashi and I are impressed that you managed to wrangle him in. Poetic in a way, don’t ’cha think? Consuming the flesh of someone who tried to overpower you. First reap of the harvest. Nice that it's a family affair."  
The room was spinning and you were fighting the sedative as hard as you could. There was no way any of this was real, maybe you were dreaming? Maybe you'd been knocked unconscious when that man rushed you. Or better yet, maybe you were asleep at home still. It was possible that this whole delivery fiasco was just a nightmare. Your stomach churned at the speech. There was sun peaking through the cracks in the wall by the time he finished separating the ... different sections. There was no more body, just pieces. You nodded off for a few minutes before being jolted awake by the door opening and letting in the bright morning light .
"Good morning, you two night owls," Hizashi beamed. Walking to his husband handing over a tall mug of coffee. He was completely unfazed by the scene he walked in on. In fact the only frown he made was when Aizawa said he put too much sweetener in the coffee.  "Anyways, grumpy pants, I called your sister. She's on her way to pick up Eri and Shinsou for a few days. To give us some time to focus on our little muse. Speaking of, I should go get her some water. Oh, plus we need to fix our door."
---
After you refused to drink anything they tried to give you they left you alone in the shed. The handcuffs were too tight for you to slip through and in your struggle you managed to topple the chair over, hitting the floor with painful slap. It was hard to ignore the buzzing of the flies swarming the space where the body once hung. You closed your eyes, your mind wandering to your family and what they would think when they realized you were missing.
Outside you heard a car pull up and were tempted to scream for someone to help you. Maybe it was the police; maybe someone realized you didn't go home last night and found out where your last delivery was. Your captors came out to greet whoever it was and you were glad you didn't yell, they sounded friendly. They were coming toward the shed but you were too defeated to react.
"Sho," Hizashi gasped, "She fell."
The response was sharp and sarcastic, "I hadn't noticed." He yanked you up with ease and the world was no longer side ways but the jolt paired with the exhaustion and drugs left the world spinning.
The woman must've been the sister they mentioned earlier. She squealed with delight, "Oh isn't she the cutest, lemme get a good look."
She resembled neither of the men and gave off cool-soccer-mom vibes. With a gentle grip on your chin she bore into your eyes.
"Please,” You begged, “I just want go home."
The sister didn't waiver, "Don't worry sweet thing, these two are gonna take such good care of you. Just relax and let them help you."
Help? You don't need help from them. You needed to get out of this hell.
"Okay," She bounced toward the exit, "Bring out my niece and nephew, we're gonna have a fun weekend. And take care of your girl, she looks like a keeper."
Finally you screamed in frustration. Brief, loud, and full of anger but it deflated just as quickly when the two men shot you a menacing look. How could all three of them show no display of empathy? You were again convinced this was an alternate reality when both children peaked their heads in to wave goodbye before they peeled away from the home, leaving you alone with Hizashi and Aizawa.
---
There was a hatch toward the back of the room where the two disappeared until they came back with a third body. They were dragging a woman up like a ragdoll and acidic bile burned your throat. If you had to guess you would say she was late middle age. It felt like they were setting a stage, Hizashi pulled you closer to where they stood while Aizawa managed to tie the woman down to the stained table.
"Why are you doing this," you cried. But they ignored you.
"Did you know there are people who pay for certain oddities and they’re willing to spend big bucks to get what they want? We keep whatever makes sense to eat and sell the rest. Ideally nothing goes to waste.”
The next hour and forty-seven minutes were excruciating. There were several “items” – as they referred to her body parts – that they removed while she was still alive; but finally Aizawa made the perfect incision along her thigh and a pomegranate wave gushed out. There was no way she would suffer much longer with this amount of blood loss.
"Please just let her die," You begged the universe. "Please let it end."
For the first time since starting they stepped back from the body, leaving it on the table to come over to you. Aizawa knelt before you and his bloody hand brushed hair from your face; his thumb rested on your lip and you couldn't even physically respond. Hizashi was behind him, rubbing his partner's shoulders.
"You're going to kill me?”  
Both men finally softened, coming down their endorphin high. There was something so satisfying about your question. Arousing, even. They made it clear that your life was up to them, which meant they had you where they needed you.
"Am I having a blonde moment? I don't recall saying we'd kill her."
Aizawa threw an incredulous look his way before addressing you, "We aren't going to kill you. We wouldn't've saved you from that terrible animal if that were the plan. We don't kill just anyone. We wanted to introduce you to our lifestyle and now’s the best chance. Eri’s wanted to keep you since day one, but if you can't behave that'll be an issue. Can you prove to us that you’re going to behave or do we have to get you down into the cellar?”
There was no other choice than to nod. Picking up a piece of the dissected woman Hizashi muttered something about starting dinner before telling his husband that you really need to get more rest. Aizawa agreed, and since it seemed like you were having trouble getting rest he decided to give you another little dose of medicine.
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ghost-ghost-baby · 3 years
Text
Narcissist (alpha!readerxOmega!Bakugo soulmate au)
An: this is heavily inspired by the song narcissist by younger hunger definitely recommend listening to it!
An: BIG TY TO MY BETA FOR EDITING THIS ABSOLUTE MONSTER OF A FIC WE STAN!
Word count: 3.2k (ur welcome)
Summary: Bakugo being a little shit basically- Mina and Denki r sick of him- reader runs out of scent blockers-
Warnings: omegaverse, swearing, Bakugo being a dick, reader just thinks he’s hot, gets a bit spicy but nothing graphic, non traditional dynamics (subby alphas) drug use (weed)
You were in a familiar room, one you’d come to love since you’d started dreaming of it, and you sat on the bed and waited… any moment now.
“Oi, are you here, shithead?” The voice of your omega was dreamier than it was in real life; his harsh words unable to punctuate the tranquility of your dream.
“I always am, Katsuki!” You chirped, grinning as he slowly faded into existence. The black tank top and jeans he wears make him look far too good, and your brain short-circuited for a few seconds.
“I told you not to fucking call me that!” He growled, but you only laughed. Reaching out to grab his hands before he could stop you, you pull him down so you could kiss him. Any anger he had quickly melted away, and Katsuki had pulled one hand away to rest on your shoulder and pushed back. You got the point, you pulled away for air and leaned back on your elbows as you did. Katsuki followed and straddled you without a moment of hesitation. His mouth latched onto your neck and you let out a hum. With one hand gravitating to tangle in his hair, he gave you another push that had you lying flat on your back.
“Hey-”
“Shut the fuck up, don’t ruin this.” Katsuki bit down on your throat and you squeaked, although he licked over the mark seconds later to soothe it, and only pulled away to kiss you when you tried to talk again. You melted, let your hands wander down to his thighs, and had your thumbs rubbing absent-minded circles. Then, Katsuki was unbuttoning the shirt you had on, hands quickly trailing lower to-
“Y/N! Did you hear what Mr. Aizawa said?” Mina’s voice brought you back from the dream you had the night before, and you blinked at her as you blanked.
“No way I'm working with their dumbass!” Katsuki snarled as Kiri forced him into a seat at your table, and you turned your head to Sero with a questioning look. He usually knew what was going on in class.
“We have a group project for a presentation, Mr. Aizawa picked the groups-”
“Oh hell yeah, all my best bro’s working together? Sounds like fun to me!” Denki leaned over to hug you and Mina, and the pieces started to click together. You were working on an art project, with your mate, who hate-
“How could anything be fun with Y/n around, they fucking ruin everything.” Katsuki grumbled to himself, refusing to meet your eyes despite sitting opposite you. Kiri mouthed an apology to you from his seat next to Katsuki. Honestly, you had no idea why he’d decided to act like… such a brat really, but it was just an act, however annoying it was. The two of you were soulmates, he’d come around, eventually.
“Oh hush, Bakugo, Y/n’s a riot and we all know it! You’re the one who goes to sleep at like, 8pm” Denki came to your aid. The electric blonde then pressed a kiss to your cheek that had Katsuki gritting his teeth.
“So, what's the project, guys?” You flipped through your book to a fresh page, resting your chin on your hand as you waited for the others to speak.
“We have to show the versatility of styles and composition under a singular theme!” Kiri was the one that answered you, and the group immediately started throwing around ideas.
“I think we could do horror, a lot of horror artists have different composition styles and still manage to convey the-”
“Tch, that’s the best you could come up with? I’m not surprised, an alpha as shitty as you can’t be capable of any decent ideas.” Katsuki sneered, but you only smiled at him as the group agreed with your idea. Your omega merely grumbled and hunched over in his seat as the group discussed the different artists you could use as examples.
You’d stayed late to double-check something with a professor, and you were still flipping through your notebook as you walked through the unusually empty halls. You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, and before you knew it you ran into someone, the same someone who shoved you against a wall seconds later, but your fear subsided when you realised it was just Katsuki.
“Watch where you’re fucking going, dipshit.” Katsuki wasn’t even sure why he’d pushed you up against the wall, but being this close to you, touching you… it was..nice…
“Tch, god your scent is so weak, you smell like a fucking beta, how’d I get stuck with such a runt, huh? Some sick kind of joke.” Katsuki’s tone didn't match what he was saying. The way he leaned forward to rub his cheek over your scent gland definitely said otherwise, but you stayed quiet, he always found some excuse to scent you, but he’d usually get embarrassed and storm off if you dared to say anything.
“You’re pathetic, you know? Being this submissive for an omega, are you sure you’re not a beta? It’d make more sense.” You bit your lip when Bakugo pressed a kiss to your neck, only hesitating a moment before he started sucking a mark onto your skin. His words bounced right off of you because all you could focus on was how hot he was and how he’d subconsciously put his thigh between your legs and thank fuck you were on scent blockers, or you’d never hear the end of it.
“Really, you aren’t even going to try and defend yourself? You’re even weaker than I thought.” A growl next to your ear made you shiver, and Katsuki pushed away with a snarl when he was satisfied. He cursed at you again and warned you ‘not to tell anyone or he’d kick your ass’ (he wouldn’t) before he walked away, leaving you to walk home with your head completely in the clouds.
“What took you so fucking long, huh idiot?” Katsuki was on you the second you appeared in the dream, pulling you down into a rather ferocious kiss before you could say anything. He bit your lip when you didn’t open your mouth fast enough, swallowing any protests you would have made, and continued to kiss you until you were dizzy. “I’ve been waiting two hours…” He pulled away to kiss under your jaw, and if you didn’t know him so well you’d miss the insecure tone in his voice.
“Sorry, Midoriya wanted-” You stopped when Katsuki growled, biting down so hard you were surprised he didn't draw blood.
“Why the fuck are you saying his name here, huh? Are you tryna piss me off?” He pulled away to sneer at you. You opened your mouth to explain, but the words died in your throat when he unzipped your hoodie, and any coherent thought you had went out the window when he started to kiss your neck.
Everything was ready. The lounge room was set up, complete with snacks, drinks, and stationery for you and your friends to work on the project. They were meant to be here any second, and you couldn’t help but hover near the door to your apartment. You weren’t used to having people over and it still put you on edge having others in your space. But that thought left your head when a knock sounded on your door. You quickly opened it and were almost knocked over by Denki and Mina engulfing you in a hug.
“Thanks so much for hosting bro!”
“Awww you laid out all these snacks and stuff too! An omega’s gonna be really lucky to have you one day Y/n!” They pushed inside. Denki closed the door as Mina oohed and aahed over the setup, their praise had a slight blush rising to your face as you sheepishly rubbed your neck. Sero was next, quickly hugging you before he joined Denki and Mina, then Katsuki and Kirishima last. The blonde pushed past you without saying hello, but Kiri pulled you into a hug so tight you couldn’t breathe for a second, and was complimenting the setup as you took a seat. You tried to sit next to Mina, but Denki let out a whine and the pair was pulling you down between them before you had time to protest. Denki immediately leaned on you once you were settled. Katsuki couldn’t focus on the project, how could he, when his two dipshit friends were all over his mate. And you weren’t even doing anything to stop them! In fact, you were leaning into their hugs and giggling at every stupid joke they made! It had Katsuki fuming. Kirishima was the only one close enough to smell the angry shift in his scent, and he glanced between his friend and you, slowly putting the pieces together. You really had no idea what was happening, but Denki’s head was on your shoulder, and Mina’s arm around your waist as she asked questions about the project, giggling and pressing a kiss to your cheek whenever you got confused, which happened more than you’d like to admit. The blonde gritted his teeth when Mina’s hand went to your thigh, you were his! Nobody else should ever be touching you like that! You should know better! So when you excused yourself to grab something from your room, of course he made up some excuse about needing the bathroom so he could follow you.
The door to your room closed with a click, and you quickly spun around, expecting to see Mina or Denki, anyone except Katsuki to be honest.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He was seeing red at this point. He cornered you and made you stumble back until your waist hit your desk.
“Uh- getting more pens-?” You held out the pack of pens with a confused look on your face that only made Katsuki angrier. How were you so stupid? And so fucking cute when you were- he cut off that thought, he needed to focus on yelling at you. Not the way your brows furrowed and how you nervously bite your lip as you waited for him to say something. Wait- were you blushing? Fuck, maybe he should-
“Katsuki? Are you oka-“
“Shut the fuck up, dipshit.” He snarled. Then, catching you both off guard, he leaned forward and kissed you. Your eyes fluttered closed immediately. He’d only kissed you in your dreams, which was nothing compared to this, and you hesitantly placed your hands on his waist. His hands went to your hair to pull you closer, tugging it until you got the message and parted your lips for him. Katsuki let out a hum of approval as he deepened the kiss, why hadn’t he done this sooner? You couldn’t focus on anything other than how much Katsuki tasted like caramel, he didn’t taste like caramel in the dreams. You couldn’t help but whine when he pulled back. Another insistent tug on your hair had you tilting your head back, and Katsuki didn’t waste any time kissing over your neck. You were so lost in the feeling you almost missed the words he growled against your skin.
“You should know better, you’re mine. Other people shouldn’t be fucking touching you like that.”
“Do you think they’re like…. Finally-” Mina made a hand gesture that had Denki cackling, even Kiri cracked a smile.
“I hope so, it’s getting hard to watch all the back and forth.” Sero sighed, dropped his pen, and stretched.
“Yeah, have you seen how mad Bakubro gets though? It’s pretty fun to push his buttons like this!” Denki grinned as he leaned his head on Mina’s shoulder, and she wrapped her arm around his waist.
“I don’t know… Bakugo’s uh… stubborn, to put it nicely.”
“Your scent is weird… are you wearing a different perfume?” Mina leaned her head on your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist as you glanced at Katsuki. After whatever the fuck had happened in your room, he’d gone back to acting like he hated you, so, you’d kept letting Denki and Mina do whatever they wanted. He had his eyes fixated on the work, and you turned back to Mina with a smile.
“Oh, sorry about that! I forgot to refill my scent blockers and my doctor’s not available until next week.”
“Don’t be sorry, bro! It’s nice, like really, really nice!” Denki came up behind you, throwing a quick glance at Katsuki before he leaned forward, crooning and rubbing his cheek over your scent gland, Mina doing the same a moment later. The pen Katsuki was holding snapped, his angry scent pumping out in waves as he glared daggers into the book in front of him, all too aware of you laughing.
You were hyper-aware of how strong your scent was, this was the longest you’d gone without scent blockers since you’d presented, and you’d lit a scented candle to try and cover it up. It hadn’t really worked, maybe you should light some incense-
“Y/n! Sorry we’re early!” Mina’s hand on your shoulder broke you from your thoughts, and you shook your head before you smiled. Denki cut you off before you could apologize about your scent.
“Damn Y/n! It smells like you baked cookies- oh my god did you bake-”
“Don’t be stupid, babe, it’s just their scent.” Mina shoved him inside, shaking her head as she followed and closed the door behind her.
“Oh! Of course!” Denki nodded, and he and Mina linked arms with you. They walked you over to the couch and sat you all down with grins on their faces.
“Uh… guys-?” You didn’t trust that look, it never leads to anything good.
“Well, since the project is like, 99.5% done-” Mina started, hand coming up to play with your hair.
“We thought we deserved a reward!” Denki interrupted, reaching into his bag and producing a blunt. You felt your own grin forming.
“Oh my god- is that from-”
“Shinso! You know he sells the best stuff on campus, I decided to splurge for my bros!” Denki looked incredibly pleased with himself, and you couldn’t help but tackle the blonde in a hug.
“Oh my god Denki, you’re the best!”
The three of you were blazed by the time the others got there. Sero happily bounced over to share the blunt, while Katsuki and Kiri just sighed and sat down with you. Katsuki’s eyes instantly zoned in on where you were lying on Mina and Denki on the couch. He was oddly silent as he tried to keep his cool, the nagging thoughts that had always been there slowly got stronger. He’d always had to be strong, people perceived him as weak just because of his dynamic, so he’d rejected the thought of being with an alpha, hoping for a beta or omega. Or you. You never made a big deal out of your dynamic, and always treated him as an equal. Then the dreams started. He loved you, he really did! But his whole reputation would go down the drain if he was claimed by an alpha, especially one with such a weak scent and mild presence. So…. he pretended to hate you in public because the two of you had your dreams, where nobody could judge him! Even if they did pale in comparison to real life. But lately… he couldn’t stop wondering… were you getting tired of waiting? With the way you were acting… the thought made his stomach turn and his canines come out. Especially since you had run out of blockers. Your scent getting stronger and stronger as the days went by. You were his alpha! You shouldn’t be scenting other people! Especially omegas! And you certainly shouldn’t be laying on them while you were ignoring him! You hadn’t even said hello to him! You were too busy getting high with those assholes like you didn't belong to him! You were his, it wasn’t fair!
Mina was the last out of the apartment. She kissed your cheek and winked at you as the door closed. The exhaustion set in as you leaned against the door.
“What the fuck was that?” Katsuki growled and made you startled when you saw him by the table. You only shrugged as you went to pack up the stuff on the couch.
“Denki got us some weed because the project was done-”
“Not that, dickhead! They were all over you!” He marched over to you, trying to ignore how good you smelled up close.
“And? We’re not-” You responded, and Katsuki was shoving you before he realized, ignoring the way you yelped as you fell on the couch. You sprawled on your back and glaring up at him.
“Katsuki! What the fuck!” Katsuki didn’t reply, eyes traveling over your vulnerable form. Flush rose to his face as he realized how provocative the position was, causing warmth to pool in his tummy. If kissing was so much better in reality, what would it be like to be inside you? Feel you clench around him and pull his hair when he hit your sweet spot? Would your thighs shake the same in real life when he just kept going? The omega didn’t even realize his scent had changed, he just licked his lips and stared at you with hooded eyes, fuck he wanted-
“Are you okay? You zoned out.” Fuck, when had you gotten up? You were so close now, your scent overwhelming. He never wanted you to go on blockers again.
“Fuck, Katsuki! Katsuki! Are you in heat?” It finally dawned on you. Katsuki’s scent had taken on a sweeter tone it didn’t usually have, and with the way he kept zoning out, it was obvious. Plus thoughts of him on top of you that wouldn’t leave your brain alone. Your question snapped him out of his daze, and the omega snarled at you, stepping back and stumbling when a jolt of pain went through him.
“Fuck off, like you could trigger-” His voice cut off as another wave of pain went through him, causing you to reached out to steady him without thinking. The omega was going to let out a growl but it quickly changed to a whine as it escaped his mouth. You pulled your hand back like it had burned, although your mate’s temperature was so high it wasn’t out of the question. You took two steps back and froze when a feral snarl ripped through the room, dark red eyes pinning you in your place.
“He-hey Katsuki…” Your voice stopped his growling, and it took every ounce of self-control you had to stay coherent as he advanced, your rut already trying to cloud your judgment. Your eyes darted around the room, maybe you could make it to the bathroom? Then Katsuki could ride out his heat and you could talk about it? yeah. Katsuki was only a foot away from you now, the grin he had on was somehow more unsettling than the snarl, and you shook your head to get some of your resolve back. Okay, three, two, one-
You made it maybe ten centimeters before Katuski caught you, and pushed you back down on the couch. He wasted no time sitting on your lap and tilting your face up to look into his eyes.
“You’re not getting away from me, Alpha. I know you want this. I should have done this months ago.” Sincerity shone through your omega’s lidded eyes, and you felt your small shred of resolve shrink away even more. Your hands flew to his chest to push him away.
“Ka-Katsuki it’s just- just your heat, you don’t mean-“
“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t mean, alpha.” Katsuki was back to growling at you. His hands grabbed your wrists, pinned them down, and used his knees to keep them in place. He went back to cupping your face, red eyes boring into yours as he thought of what to say and a growl leaving him whenever you dared to look away. You were so, so obnoxiously pretty, it made it even harder to focus. Katsuki kept getting distracted by little details, like how your eyes shone and you kept biting your lip.
“You’re so fuckin stupid, ya know that? Of course, I fuckin want you, you’re my alpha- I don’t… I don’t care what other people think anymore, I just want you.” Katsuki’s tone was softer than you expected, and you could only gape at him as a blush quickly rose to your face. You knew he didn’t hate you, but hearing him say that lifted a weight off your shoulders you’d been carrying for who knows how long. The moment passed, all the softness went away as Katsuki leaned down to kiss you, and this time you kissed him back without any reservations.
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drops-of-moonlights · 3 years
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Redesigned Acheron for the AU! Both his Energix (with bonus Legendarium) and his Spectre form from S6.5. Copypasted info below!
Acheron of Gallia was a sorcerer under the service of the White Circle, acting as their primary enforcer. His title under them was the Sorcerer of the White Circle’s Legacy, later renamed the Sorcerer of Incarceration.
His magic was a mix of light and darkness, being able to cast illusions, as well as managing to create a a book with the capability of trapping anything in its pages - the Legendarium. Any magi that disobeyed or tried to rebel against them was sealed into the Legendarium, where he twisted their forms and magic and used it for himself, as well as as many native magic animals he found, giving birth to many monsters. He used their twisted forms to terrorize locations into submission, pretending to “save” the towns and getting their blind loyalty to the Circle in the process.
He was one of the last White Circle members to be found and imprisoned, taking the full strength of the Pleiades alongside Eldora and Yllidith to seal him. As he was cornered near Egypt, too far away from Tir Nan Og, they opted to seal him into his own creation, locking the book with the keys they managed to get. Acheron kept the last key, however, meaning that he needed someone to willingly follow him for his freedom.
He manages to manipulate Selina, using her thirst of knowledge to his advantage. Once he’s freed, he thanks her, before attacking her and trying to trap her into debris. He’s sealed inside a blank book after a long battle with most of the cast, becoming outnumbered and sealed in a different book, that is later burned. He returns in S6.5 as a broken Spectre, nothing but a projection of his own hatred clinging onto his soul thanks to perishing while transformed.
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bookwyrminspiration · 3 years
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hello! just curious, how do you plot out your stories? (for example, what have you done to plan out the wings au? do you have it all in your head? do you plan it out on paper or in a doc specifically for it? do you just go with the flow? sorry if this is a lot of questions lol i'm just trying to convey my point-)
hello, synonym!! lovely to see you again! I'd love to share my process!
as I explain my personal methods (again, personal, just how I do things!), I'll use the wings au as an example because i know you've read it and it'll just be easier over all. but essentially, yes to all of the above, just with different parts of the story!
my progression is: chaotic doc, background (as needed), basic written plot, expansion on the plot, any other details needed, and then just write things! but don't worry, I'll provide more detail, i say as if i'm capable of being concise
(putting below a readmore for simplicity)
chaotic doc: so, the very first thing I do when i have a story is open up a doc, and write down everything i know about it in little bullet points and rambling sentences, just basic information with no organization. the organizing can come later, right now I just want to get as much of what's in my head onto the paper as possible.
I type out the basic premise of the story or the few things I know about how I want it to go, the things I know I want to remember later, things I'd need to think about to set it up, etc. for the wings au, this was details like everyone's wings (things to remember later), how they got those wings and a sentence or two about what the world was like now (things I needed to think about to set it up), a little blurb about where the story would start. this is less writing details about the story, and more noting down the details I want to figure out later in the expansion. i find it works best to type this out because i'm a much faster typer than I am at physical writing, which allows me to follow the flow of my thoughts a lot better and go back and change things.
background: background prepares me for the next step, but the amount of effort I put into this section depends on how complex my story is. it basically means write down (we've moved to pencil and paper now, but this could be digital too if you prefer) anything you need to know in order to set up the rest of your story. what do you need to know in order to tell the story you need to and to get you where you want to be? for the wings au, the background was that the world had been overrun with monsters and everyone was living underground now. the neverseen had been defeated, or so they thought, coming back later. all these things that essentially prepared me to get to the plot. it told me where the story was happening and the emotional/physical environment everything else would happen under. if you have a more worldbuilding heavy world, this step might be a little more complex, or if there's something very specific with the characters you need as context beforehand.
sometimes the readers will be aware of pieces of the background, and it's even necessary for them to know--for example, you all knowing the elven world is in the middle of a monster apocalypse and living underground; if you didn't know, the rest of the story wouldn't make any sense. but there may be things you write down that are just for you to know, personal notes. for example, I have notes written about how the monsters came to be, more specifically, that you all haven't been made aware of and may never be. planning this out is for you, so if there's something you want to remind yourself to keep in mind while writing, this could be a good place. but now that we know the world we're writing in, we can move on
basic plot: for me, I struggle to figure out where to take a story, and if I don't have the basic concept laid out before I start writing, I ended up with really weird stories that completely deviate from what i wanted (I say this from experience). so I break it down into the bare essentials. literally as basic as I can be. there are five crucial parts of a plot: exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, and resolution. just those five. for each of those, i write--writing, because it takes more time (allows me to think) and feels more organized to me, but you can do it differently--just the general idea I have for each section. just as few words as possible. detail comes later. for the wings au I literally wrote "they get wings" for rising action. having read the wings au, you know just how simplified that is.
one things that might help is consider how you would explain this idea to someone in one or two sentences. you just want to make sure you have a beginning, middle, end, and the transition between them. from there you've got the skeleton of your story, and everything else can fit itself into this idea.
expansion: now that you have the skeleton, it's time to fill in some of the more essential anatomy. this is where you add the specifics. for me, i write this physically in bullet points in a journal of some kind. I take the first section, and write down how the story is going to start. where am I going to begin this journey. for the wings au I wrote "beginning: sneaking into breeding facility to destroy monsters. problem: caught/monster breaks loose." if you remember this is essentially the events of the first chapter but in two sentences. I'm giving enough detail that I know what I'm going to write, but not so much it's going to be stifling to follow my exact notes when I actually get to writing. this will be different for different people, so you may want more or less detail than I provided, I'm just giving an example of how I did it.
I continue this for the rest of the plot, but that doesn't mean every single little detail that will ever happen is planned out. I'm not patient enough to be super thorough with every little thing, so I go long enough until I have a solid understanding of what I'm going to start with when I'm writing, or just until I'm bored and can't deal with planning anymore. for me, that meant I was more detailed when planning from the mission in the facility to them getting to the abandoned gnomish village, as those would be some of the first things I would be writing about. after that, I got more vague and just touched on some of the key part of each of those five sections. I take those two/three words and turn them into two/three bullet points. I also didn't want to be too specific with the later details, because I knew i'd be influenced by things as I wrote and would be inspired to fill that out.
any other details: this is kind of any afterthoughts you might have or details you need to keep i mind that aren't necessarily plot. you may have a lot of these, or you may have none. for me, this was where I wrote down what kinds of wings and other animalistic traits each of the characters had (yes, I wrote them down again). it's not strictly plot, but it does affect the rest of the story. this is also where I write anything I forgot to when going through the first time, and then i can draw a little arrow pointing towards where it fits in to the rest of the story or is relevant (which is part of why I like the writing aspect, but this is entirely achievable on a doc). another example from the au is me writing "domestic" to the side and pointing it back to my notes about the gnomish village, because while it wasn't essential to moving the plot forward, i wanted to touch on some aspects of domestic live with the ten of them while they were there.
just write things: now that you have all this planning done (good job, you!) you can get into the writing aspect. you've already decided your beginning and know where you want to go, so this is the part where you just starting putting words on the page. it can be pretty daunting to just look at a blank page, so if you'd like, start a paragraph in. skip the first paragraph and just start in the middle of something else--you can add back what's missing later. I personally note things that I want to come back to inside [brackets like this], and that can be words, sentences, entire paragraphs. i use the square ones specifically because I don't use them in my writing unlike (these parentheses), and then I can search the document for them all at once and see all the places I need to go back.
this is also where the "just in my head" and "make it up as I go" part comes into place. you have a pretty good idea of what you're doing, but you're going to have ideas as you write, so sometimes you just follow the flow of your brain and write things you could've never even planned for. and if you're interacting with others as you're going (like I'm talking about theories with you all while writing future chapters) then you may be inspired by them to add things to the story. originally, I wasn't going to even have any messages from Bronte or Oralie, but now because I saw what some of the people reading it were picking up on, I realized the potential there and added them in on a whim
and sometimes when you get stuck, the best way to get yourself out of that is to just add something random, which can spiral off and affect the rest of the story. I've said it before, but the dragons were not planned. I'd actually seen a piece of writing advice months ago that if you're stuck, change the weather. so I was stuck and made a sudden rainstorm, but then I needed an explanation as to how things got so wet so fast because I'd mentioned clear skies earlier. so in my attempt to explain it, dragons came to exist. writing is a process, so don't limit yourself to everything you've written. you'll be inspired along the way, so try to take it in stride.
one final note: as much as you plan, this is not going to be a definite map for how the story will go. maybe something makes sense as you're planning it out, but when you get to actually writing it makes no sense as all and you need to change things. that's fine! this kind of a plan is just to get you prepared and keep you afloat amongst this ocean of words trapped in your head that you want to transcribe. if something isn't working, change it! in my original written plan for the wings au they weren't going to run away for a few weeks, instead sneaking out for an hour or two at a time over those few weeks because they couldn't stand being underground anymore, until Linh was actually the first one to make contact with a creature and realize it didn't immediately want to kill her. but because she's not the narrator of this story, I couldn't write it the way i wanted, so I gave that to sophie in the tree.
this is just my approach to my more complicated stories! for some of the really quick ones, I just open a doc and start going. this kind of thinking keeps me organized so that I'm doing the idea the most justice. but just because it works for me doesn't mean it'll work for everyone. if it does work for you, great! but if there are parts you need to modify for yourself, you are more than encouraged to do so. personally, if I could only chose one part of this process to rely on, it would be the basic plot. that's the key to everything for me, but for others it might be something different.
I hope this helps with whatever it is you're writing!! I wish you luck and look forward to seeing whatever it is (should you chose to share it, no pressure)!! if you'd like more of my process on how I write it consistently and update on a schedule, I'd be more than happy to talk about that too!
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m-y-fandoms · 4 years
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Vampire Nagito Komaeda x Ultimate Monster Hunter reader - Part 2 (Supernatural AU)
Part 1 
WARNINGS: Blood Drinking, Vampire Bites
Please excuse any grammar mistakes. I think I got most but I edited this at 5 A.M. ... I will go back over it and scan for errors soon.
- Admin Kokichi
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     Hours passed since your unfortunate encounter, and your heart and mind had finally shaken off the creeps. After finishing your little self-guided tour of campus, you headed to the Main Course dorms to find your room. Your luggage was arranged to come later that evening, but you wanted to see the dorms for yourself now with little else to do. 
      Once you shut the door, the warmth of the sunlight gave way to a wave of the best air conditioning money could buy. The place looked very clean and tidy, with nothing out of place save for a few displaced balls and plastic cups atop a pool table and what appeared to be forgotten lecture notes on a shelf above a central fireplace. This must be the common area, a lounge for the most deserving students in the world!
     Behind the fireplace on either side were two sets of pretentious-looking stairs that led up to what you assumed were the actual dorm rooms. You searched your pocket for your student key card. You flipped it around over and over again in your hand, searching.
     “What?” You weren’t going crazy, were you? Neither floor nor room number were indicated on your card. You pulled your phone out, quickly sifting through emails and texts. Nope. Nowhere, at any point, had the housing department told you exactly what room was yours. Way to drop the ball, Kirigiri… you sighed, finding this situation both a bit humorous and exasperating considering the status of the school.
     Well, you were a last minute transfer. There were bound to be slip-ups.
     Sighing, you resigned to sit, relax for a few minutes, then call the housing department, or simply walk over to the main office building if it was still open.
      "Maybe I'll just..." you decided you'd earned the two minute break and walked leisurely over to one of the beige leather seats. Sitting, you set your chin into your hand propped up by your elbow on the arm of the chair, and began to think of how much you missed your tools. School regulations didn’t allow poisons, crossbows, guns and silver bullets inside the dorms... for obvious reasons. Even students of the blade or other offensive disciplines had to keep all sharp and lethal objects in their practice rooms and out of the dorms (not that all of them followed these rules). Students were allowed to customize and adjust their uniforms according to their talent, but you couldn’t even do that, what with all of the tools of your trade being lethal or unexplainable to the ignorant masses.
     It felt weird, not having a wooden stake strapped to your ankle, not having wolfsbane hidden away in a compartment on your belt. You felt out of place, without knives and rune-inlaid whips hidden on your person... uncomfortable. This school really wasn’t for you.
     "Ah, it’s you!" A voice came from behind.
     "Huh?" You gasped, flying up from your seat, thoroughly startled. Your knee banged off of the coffee table in front of it, leaving you feeling like an absolute buffoon. Your hand instantly flew to your leg, and you hissed softly in pain.
     “Whoops! Didn’t mean to startle you, sorry!”
     Your eyes followed the voice all the way up the stairs to its owner. Nagito was scrambling down the stairs toward you apologetically, feeling responsible for your blunder. He reached his hands out as of to offer you his aid, but froze upon seeing you take a step backward. He stopped directly in front of you, clearing his throat before continuing.
     “What are you doing here? You don’t have to start classes yet?” You stared into his eyes, and a tremble ran up your spine. The greenish-grey, glistening spheres appeared icy and far away. “Well?" When you didn't respond, he spoke up again.
     "I uh... um..."
     "You have a way with words, I see, just like when we met earlier today." He teased, laughing warmly. He had one of those genuine smiles, where the eyes exude friendliness just as much as the mouth, and their misty shine entranced you deeply. He laughed again, a bit awkwardly as you merely gawked at him. A light blush formed on his cheeks and he swept some of his cloud-like hair away from his forehead. He held the eye contact, though, searching your mind for something, anything to tell him more about you. You felt a stinging begin, like a migraine forming in the depths of your brain.
      You shook your head roughly, tearing your eyes away from his gaze. How could you have fallen for that one? 
     Vampires could very easily compel the mortal mind, put one in a mind-hazing trance with direct eye contact alone. Being the offspring of one of the best hunters ever born, you were trained to notice when the bloodsuckers made their attempts to ensnare your mind or read it like a book. That headache was your warning sign, the last defense of a disciplined mind, but it shouldn’t have even of gotten that far. 
     You were slipping… why did this vampire feel… different?
     More importantly, you forced your mind to change the subject, how long had he been trancing other students? Was he doing this on purpose? Some vampires simply forgot their own strengths at times. Did Kirigiri know? Is this dangerous creature simply going around unchecked... doing whatever the hell he likes?!
     He coughed, his eyebrows furrowing with a sudden seriousness. He’d been searching your mind, looking around desperately for a clue, a story, a hint, and just as soon as he thought he’d found an interesting page to start reading, the book was snapped close in front of him. He was pushed out in an effort that seemed practiced, skillful. You saw the discontent lining his features, and decided you needed you stop this. You two needed to be on the same page, before he tried anything else on you; something stupid, or more bold. You couldn’t keep up this charade any longer. You had a feeling he was feeling the same way.
     "Stop that.” You spoke sternly, concisely, confidently. He needed to know not to try that shit again, that you would not simply be prey like others, not mentally nor physically. His mouth formed a smirk, one of relief and something like acknowledging the other player in a game.
     “Ahh~ so I see that I was correct after all. Are we done playing pretend now? Awww, I was actually having a lot of fun! It was quite stimulating, actually.” He frowned, pouting like a child called home at dusk after playing outside all day.
     “I’m afraid so. Sorry to disappoint you,” you crossed your arms over your chest defiantly,” and I don’t appreciate my mind being picked and prodded at. That’s extremely disrespectful, you know? That’s none of your business. If you’re doing that to people on the regular around campus, I will inform the headmaster.” You held a finger out, poking his chest firmly and with aplomb, and he only smiled in response, finding this attempt to intimidate him rather adorable. He held in a giggle behind his hand, not wanting to anger you. “Am I amusing to you?” You threw him a cross look, and he held his hands up in surrender.
     “No, of course not! I was just thinking, well... how do you know? About me, I mean?”
     You face went blank. You weren’t expecting this question, though you probably should have been. There was no possible way to answer this honestly. What were you supposed to say? The headmaster forbade you from telling anyone of your true talent. Disregarding that point, what would this vampire do to you once he found out you were one of those sworn to kill his kind? You didn’t have any means of defending yourself at present. You couldn’t outrun him, or fight back with raw strength. He couldn’t do anything right? He wouldn’t… if he were that brash, there’s no way Kirigiri would’ve let him enroll here in the first place. He has to be on excellent behavior to attend Hope’s Peak, right?
     You blinked once, twice. He was waiting for a response, staring patiently. You needed a response, and quickly.
     “W-what are you doing here?” Nice. Perfect.
     “Huh?” His head tilted, taken aback by the curveball you threw his way.
     “W-well you asked what I’m doing here, and you’re right, if I were starting classes today, I would be in one right now. We have the same core classes outside of the individualized training of our talent specialization. I saw the class rosters and schedules! I know you should be in class right now as well!” You were getting louder with every word, feeling very cornered and vulnerable at the moment. If you had just even one weapon on you… just one…
     “Well, uh…” now you had him. You smirked, feeling pretty clever at the moment. “I forgot my books... just my luck haha,” he countered, “So I came back to my room to get them!”
     “Then where are they?” And sure enough, he had nothing on him but the clothes on his back.
     “Hmm… well I came through the second floor entrance,” he gestured over his back “...and I was about to head to my room but I got uhhh… distracted I guess you could say. I really am hopeless.” There was that big, dumb, goofy grin again. Your mind took a second, but then it clicked.
     “...You smelled me…” you spoke slowly, cautiously.
      “Uh… I guess yeah. You could say that. Well that’s exactly what happened, really. I suppose I am glad we ended our little farce! Would’ve been hard to explain that one...” his index finger reached up, scratching at the side of his mouth pensively.
     “You really are a creep!”
     “Yeah, I’m the worst, I know...” Why was he smiling while saying this? “I’m sorry, again. Usually, it’s not like this. Of course I admire our talented peers and am drawn to them as they are pinnacles of hope and the building blocks of the future, but...” he pantomimed through the air grandly, “ I am very conditioned to the human scent. It doesn’t usually alert me nowadays. I dunno… guess the... tantalizing smell of a particularly interesting human was enough to… stir me.” He smirked almost tauntingly. Your eyes widened, but narrowed again immediately. You would not show him weakness. 
     “Stop that.” You scowled.
     “Apologies, (Y/N). Just speaking my mind. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m just sort of a disgusting waste of space.” Your scowl melted into a sort of sympathetic frown despite yourself. Did he really mean that? Why would he say that about himself? Vampires were usually more vain on the spectrum of supernatural beings. “I just hold Main Course students in really high esteem, and you’re no exception... actually, far from it. Ever since I met you this morning, you’ve been on my mind more then most mortals… strange...” he seemed lost in his own little world. What? What the hell was going on in his crazy little head? The silence caught his attention, and he seemed to remember you were there as well, looking into your eyes again. He caught himself, making sure to not to make such direct eye contact with you. When he was in these weird moods, he never could quite control his more passive abilities and instincts. “Anyway... yeah, it’s unfortunate that I’m going to be missing part of class now… not that I don’t enjoy the pleasant surprise! I knew there was something special about you right off the bat!" Would he still think that after he knew your true calling? You looked to your right, thankful for the large staircase to escape to. He was giving you unsettling vibes once again. 
     Supernatural beings were known to imprint easily on mortals. Some saw them as beautiful, perplexing, ethereal in their impermanence. Some killed and ate them just because devouring humans, or torturing them until the panicked aura of their tiny, weak souls radiated around the room and feeling that temporary fragility, that adrenaline, was the only way they themselves could feel human. This urge to feel close to humanity was only doubled, dangerously so, in supernaturals who were once human themselves. It was an insatiable need to return to that normalcy, that frailty. 
     Swiftly, you scampered over to the bottom step to put some distance between you and the increasingly imposing immortal before you.
     "Ah, I see. Well, anyway, thanks I suppose. I uh..." you grinned clumsily. “I was just looking for my room, albeit unsuccessfully. You can go ahead and get your books now! I don’t want to hold you up any longer!”
      "I can help! It’s no big deal. The way they get students moved in here can sometimes be confusing. Actually, they put your room number on the student portal, not your card or paperwork, heh! And they don’t even tell you, leave you to find out yourself!” He pulled a large, black rectangle from his pocket, crossing the distance to wave it in front of you like a treat.
     What the...? You patted down your shirt and bottoms alike.
     “Is that my phone? How the hell-?!”
     “Ah, yeah, sorry about that! I swiped it from you when I first came downstairs! I thought it’d help me get to know you better, had you not been willing to divulge the knowledge you have of my kind’s existence.” Once again he was calm, cool and casual whilst in the midst of saying such unusual words. What was this guy’s deal? “Here, you can have it back!”
     “Yeah, I should hope so!” You reached out to snatch your phone from his hand, and it was like time froze.
     The moment your fingertips touched his own in the exchange, your indignant eyes met his, and saw something feral flicker in them. The phone switched hands, and a spark of sorts traveled through your skin and into his. As you pulled back, his hand shot out, taking a tight grip around your wrist.
     Your cheeks warmed up, at once flustered when the atmosphere changed drastically. Your eyes dilated in panic and his lips moved forward, resting upon your hand. He seemed to tense up, a rigidness taking up his entire body. His closed eyes opened wide to match your own and he inhaled deeply of the skin of your knuckles. You pulled away quickly, spooked.
     "S-something wrong? Why are you so weird? I’ve never met any of your kind quite like you." You rubbed your hand curiously.
     “So, you’ve met others?” It was clear he was trying to hold back something deep inside of him that begged to crawl out, his eye twitching slightly.
     “Answer my question.”
     "No, of course not... you just smell... nice, as I said before." He looked away from you, hand extending to guide you upstairs and in the right direction, but your brain was telling you not to go anywhere with him in tow.
     “I- I can find my way myself, but thanks!” You began logging into the Hope’s Peak student portal through your phone’s browser, and quickly looking through your profile to find your room code and number.
     “I insist!” He followed you up the stairs, trailing after your scent like a starved hound. Why couldn't he just get lost? Your thoughts raced anxiously. If you’d had your equipment on you, he would’ve been long dead. He was exhausting, and he didn't feel… safe. “Found it?” he inquired over your shoulder. As you reached the top of the steps, you began to feel your blood boil, but you knew not the true cause of this involuntary reaction.
     Your last little exchange left you feeling foolish and naive. How could you have let a vampire get that close? Why would you let him indulge in the scent of you knowing how easy it was for them to take advantage of humans? You were royally pissed off, and looking for a way to expel that rage, to hurt someone or something the way you were hurting inside.
     “I know you’re a vampire because I kill them. My whole family does. It’s essential to be able to identify one in my line of work. I’d be a pretty shitty hunter if I couldn’t do even that, and you aren’t exactly good at hiding it.” You found your door, swiping your keycard into the extremely sleek, high-tech lock system, and forcing it open a bit too harshly. The frustration you tried to hide in your voice was evident in your actions. Nagito halted, stilled stiff by your suddenly bitter words.
     “Ah,” he cleared his throat, also hiding emotions of his own, “The Ultimate Hunter... it makes sense now.” He recalled seeing your title along with your name on his own school portal. How did he miss that one?
     “Yeah, so maybe you should get lost.” Heartlessly, you began to close the door on him, now fully inside the spacey room that was bare save for a luxurious bed and some basic, modern furniture. “Hn?” A soft gasp left your throat when a polished shoe wedged itself inside the door, stopping you. You looked up, your body filling the crack in the door, and met Nagito’s eyes. There was that far away look again. His eyes were cloudy, tameless, wild.
     “Why must you be so harsh?” His eyes bore into your own now, all inflection and kindness gone from his tone. “I understand you must hate my kind, and now I can appreciate why you reacted so aversely to my voice, my touch, my presence before, but have I done anything to harm you?” You were beginning to get scared now, reaching instinctively for your belt and finding it absent from your pristine uniform.
     “I think you should leave. We obviously aren’t meant to be acquaintances.” You refused to let your voice shake. This might be a turning point, a critical moment. Vampires were never so dangerous as when they knew their prey was afraid.
     “It’s your turn to answer me, now~” Nagito forced himself in the doorway nonchalantly, approaching your slowly retreating form into the middle of your room. You backed away, with him meeting every step.
     “If you must know, you have offended me, yes. Trying to read my mind-”
     “An accident.”
     “Stealing my phone-”
     “A precaution.”
     “Smelling my blood like a pervert, twice!” He smirked.
     “A natural, harmless instinct.” 
     “Even so...” Your eyes were on his own, obviously not focused on his body, and he took this opportunity to reach down, grasping lightly at your hand once again.
     “Even so, what? Those are all petty misunderstandings. Ahhh~” his cold, pointed nose skimmed across the back of your hand once again as he brought it to his face. This time, when you tried to pull away, he held fast, and warning signals flashed in your mind. “Just as I thought! Your scent appeals to me so because you are a shining beacon of hope! I see it now! It’s all coming to me! You protect the world from those of my kind who would seek to destroy it! How wonderful!” His cheek bumped across your knuckles, and you failed once again to pull away.
     “N-Nagito. Stop. This is.... you must consider context. If we weren’t in school right now, if we were just on the street meeting like this-”
     “You wouldn’t do anything~ because I’m allied and protected~” He sung, his eyes twitching again, lids fluttering softly. Your heart dropped into your stomach. He was right. 
     You were trying to resist, but he was making it so damn hard. It shouldn’t be this hard. You found supernatural beings repulsive. Your father did as well. And his father did! They weren’t trustworthy. Their words were always the lies of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. They could charm and glamour weaker mortals with ease and enjoyed it! And you certainly were not a weaker mortal! You found joy in killing them... didn’t you?
     “What you’re doing now is-”
     “It’s strange, hah~ so strange~ I haven’t felt this inspired, this jittery about a mortal in such a long time... haha~ this excitement! I knew it! I knew you were special! You’re the true hope I’ve been looking for! The Ultimate of all Ultimates that will guide our classmates into their roles as the protectors and leaders that will inherit this earth!” He was manic now, inhaling deeply, raggedly onto your skin. One hand crushed your wrist into his own chest, the other held your hand so that it stayed splayed out flat for his access. There was something primal in his eyes. He was quickly becoming unstable. It was a perilous state so common to his kind, but yet it felt still so incredibly unique to Nagito himself, like it was not his immortality but his own character that caused this sudden shift in behavior.
     “Nagito! You sound like a lunatic! Let go, you’re hurting me!” Tears threatened to fall from your eyes. You were strong, usually able to ignore some measure of physical pain, but the way his fingers dug into your wrist coupled with the consternation you felt at the situation set your nerves aflame. Once again you reached instinctively for a weapon or poison you did not have.
     “Am I? I’m sorry. It’s just... I wonder...” You didn’t like where this was going at all. His chest shook with arousal , a bit of drool dripping from the fangs now on display in his mouth, which hung open in his state of reverie. “I wonder what this this hope tastes like... this pure, concentrated source of unbridled hope!” His voice shook, and you pushed at his chest with your free hand. He didn’t budge an inch. It was like he didn’t even notice your actions. “I know I’m unworthy, that a piece of trash like me doesn’t deserve to taste you... but I feel like now that I’m this close, haha~ I can’t stop myself! Truly, truly it’s a grand misfortune that a talentless, meaningless, soulless abomination like myself even dares to take part in such a feast! But...” He lowered his lips to your wrist.
     “Nagito, stop! You can’t do this!” You began to kick and struggle, to scratch and tear at his clothes, to claw at any exposed skin, leaving marks across his cheek and arms. “If you do this, you’ll lose your protection!” His top lip pulled back, something like a snarl emanating from his throat. Clearly that approach wouldn’t work. “You’ll be expelled!” You tried the next deterrent on your mind. Wow, you must’ve been the worst Super High-School Level Monster Hunter in history. Day 1: fooled into a vampire’s clutches. His inhumanely sharp canines grazed the skin of your wrist, feeling your pulse race beneath the surface. He was entranced; there was no stopping this now. A human, without weapons, without enchantments or defenses, without repellants, bombs, herbs, poisons, silver, or means of healing, was no match for a supernatural being. “Please! Please, you- don’t do this!” a last effort. Why did you even try? These savages never sympathized with begging and pleading. They were killers. You were an imbecile to let your guard down around Komaeda for even a second.
     His fangs sunk deeply into your skin, piercing a vein. You yelped out in pain, pulling at his hair and tugging your wrist back, which only nestled his fangs in deeper. You whimpered, little rivulets of your vital fluid running out of his mouth and down to your elbow. He was moaning in delirium, enraptured in the sensation of your blood running down his throat. You wanted to yell, to scream for help, but something inside you was hesitant and holding you back. Something inside you didn’t want anyone to find out about this, to find you two like this.
     “Mmmh~” Nagito’s tongue swirled around the puncture wounds, his lips latched on like a leech. He drank freely, deeply, seemingly careless of how much blood he was taking. It’d been a long time since he’d felt the exhilaration of feeding from true prey. These days they had him on willing donors and blood bags. Nothing compared to the flavor of adrenaline and fear in the bloodstream, no matter how much he hated himself for indulging in it.
     “Naaagi-t-” You stumbled backwards a step, wishing so desperately that you weren’t such an obedient student, that you’d deemed it justified to slip a stake, a knife, anything under your shirt. Your punches, your willful attacks on his abdomen, and the kicks to his knees began to slow down. They were losing the fight behind them, and yet, you would not give up. “St-tt-oo-” He continued to slurp and suck at your wrist, taking no note of the way you slowly were slipping to your knees. 
     The corners of your vision began to cloud and darken. Your head was ringing, much like a time you’d been left concussed after one of your first hunts. This might as well have been one of your first encounters with the supernatural world, with how badly you’d blundered every step.
     Now on your knees, your head hanging limply down into your chest with your arm raised and pulled taut, trailing up to the vampire’s mouth, you felt yourself slipping. Finally, your vision began to fade for the last time, and you fell unconscious. The last thing your mind registered was the sound of Nagito sighing blissfully as he finally detached from your flesh, followed by the sound of frenzied laughter.
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thewhitefluffyhat · 3 years
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Featherine Augustus Aurora
What is this guide?
<< Previous (Lambdadelta)
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Reading List: Highlights
Umineko Episode 6/Dawn “??? Tea Party” [ Video / Text ]
Featherine requests her old miko return to her service once more. (Everything to know about Featherine’s personality in one scene)
Umineko Episode 6/Dawn “The Witch of Theatergoing” scene
Video [Scene starts roughly 6:20 and continues to the end of the video]
Text [Search on “Amakusa ran his finger down my cheek.” Scene continues to end of the page.]
[Spoilers - this references several major twists from the previous two Episodes, though not the truth of the mystery.] Featherine ropes another human into acting as her miko. (A demonstration of the way Featherine/Hachijou blends the mundane and the magical worlds.)
Umineko Episode 8/Twilight “Magical Battle” scene
Video [Scene starts roughly 38:40, stop before 53:35]
Text [Start at top of the page and stop at the screencap of the key.]
[Spoilers - this is one of the battles at the climax of Umineko! It doesn’t involve the core mystery, but it will spoil which characters ultimately side with the protagonists.] A scene for if you’re curious what happens when Featherine gets serious.
Reading List: I want it all
(These are all repeats from the list for Bernkastel.)
”Whose Tea Party?” [ Video / Text ]
Bern gets invited to a tea party. (A simple and silly scenario, but also a window into the differences in how Featherine and Lambda think of Bern.)
”Bernkastel’s Letter” [ Video / Text ]
Bernkastel writes a letter to (maybe) Featherine, explaining what she’s discovered about the rules to Beatrice’s game. (This is a bit of a strange one - to me it feels like some details of Bern’s relationships in this early work were retconned by the time of Umineko Episodes 6-8.)
Umineko Chiru (Episode 6/Dawn, Episode 7/Requiem, Episode 8/Twilight)
Umineko Saku’s Last Note of the Golden Witch involves Featherine somewhat. Blink and you’ll miss it, but she’s in 07th Theater too.
-...And that’s it! On the plus side, it’s easy to read all there is of Featherine, since there’s so little. Unfortunately, as you can see from the Highlights, what does exist is often neck deep in spoiler territory…
Wiki Links
https://07th-expansion.fandom.com/wiki/Featherine_Augustus_Aurora [Some spoilers, though only the same as in the Highlights links above.]
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Quick Facts
-As Hanyuu is in Higurashi, Featherine is the closest being to a god in Umineko.  However, while gods in Higurashi are related to Shinto concepts (plus parasites and viruses and aliens), Umineko’s godhood is based on the idea of an author being god of their story, summoning universes out of the nothingness of a blank page.
-Featherine’s unusual name is probably a reference to Hanyuu. The kanji for Hanyuu (羽入) are “羽=feather” and “入=in”. And Augustus Aurora = Hanyuu’s “Au au” catchphrase. Hachijou (八城) can also be read “yashiro,” as in Oyashiro-sama.
-Physically, Featherine appears as an elegant adult woman whose exact age is hard to place. She does not have horns, but she does have that suspiciously horn-like memory device floating around her head.
According to that Umineko Episode 8 battle scene linked above, Featherine’s memory device once was damaged, leading to Featherine having a different personality and appearance for a time.
(As it so happens, Hanyuu has a chipped horn and a very different personality from Featherine, what an intriguing coincidence...)
-Long before the events of Umineko, Featherine ascended to the realm of the gods and returned. She also goes through a cycle of sleep/death and rebirth which can last centuries.  All aspects that call to mind that ascension Hanyuu mentions in Saikoroshi.
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-Outside the Meta-World, Featherine’s double is a mysterious and reclusive author who goes by many names. (Hachijou Tohya is just one of them.)
-Remember how Ooishi and Akasaka write a book called “Higurashi no naku koro ni” in-universe? Umineko does something similar, but explores the idea even further. Hachijou is the supposed in-universe author of some of Umineko’s arcs, and as such, some fans consider Featherine/Hachijou as a stand-in for Ryukishi07 himself.
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Personality
-Much as Bern’s personality is similar to “dark Rika” but kicked up to eleven, Featherine’s personality is similar to Hanyuu when Hanyuu acts as a god. She’s calm, serious, and refers to humans as “child of man.”
-Lacking Hanyuu’s shy and childish mannerisms, Featherine comes across as intimidating and rather condescending. Though she’s more polite and reasonable than the average witch. (Which honestly says more about other witches than her, really...)
-Bern and Lambda are very fey-like, tricking and tempting mortals into doing what they want. Featherine, in contrast, doesn’t use tricks or threaten violence because she doesn’t need to. Asking for consent from mortals is a gesture of respect from her - you don’t have the ability to refuse.
-In almost the inverse of Hanyuu, Featherine has no problems getting other characters to perceive her; indeed, she’s subtle but often quite forceful about dragging others into conversations inside her realm.
-Also unlike Hanyuu, Featherine has no particular love of sweets (that’s Lambda), and does seem to enjoy alcohol.
-Featherine, an ancient being, suffers from the “disease” of boredom. Entertaining herself with stories is the only medicine for this ailment, and the relief it provides is only temporary.
-As such, Featherine enjoys stories as deeply and thoroughly as possible.  Meaning, she doesn’t just appreciate mysteries and characters as they’re first presented - she also likes to “tear out the guts” to see what makes them tick.
...Not with her own hands of course!  That’s Bern’s job.
What, did you think you were done with the Watanagashi imagery when you finished Higurashi?
-At several points in Umineko, Featherine a gets called a monster. While this may be yet another callback to Higurashi, unlike Hanyuu who hates that label, Featherine takes it as a compliment.
-So… is Featherine evil? Many characters, and even Ryukishi07 himself in interviews, call her such. That being said, in Umineko, Featherine can be callous, but she doesn’t revel in sadism the way other witches do. Although, presumably she was much worse in the past...
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Abilities
-Featherine is the “Witch of Theatergoing” - she is primarily a spectator to the events of Umineko, rather than a player on the stage. (Just like Hanyuu.)
-Bern’s “Theatergoing Authority” may derive from her. She also has the ability to instantly promote a character to the position of Game Master.
-Featherine is an author and therefore a “Creator,” surpassing the level of even powerful witches like Bern and Lambda. Her powers function as her breaking the fourth wall and literally writing the rest of the script on a page.
-Like Hanyuu, Featherine can stop time. Though unlike Hanyuu, Featherine can act in the frozen time, including that aforementioned reality writing.
-Featherine’s home is the *deep breath*  “Great Witch of Theatergoing, Drama, and Spectating's Noble City of Carefully Selected Books” - an impossibly large magical library filled with countless stories, each a universe of their own like a Fragment.  (Everyone just calls it the “City of Books.”)
-Featherine’s servants are the main characters of these stories, now in the form of black cats.
-Featherine’s relationships with her mikos are also through the lens of an author. Featherine’s mikos are also known as “Readers” - they narrate the events of a game board to Featherine. As an author is a god, a reader is also able to put their own interpretation on the story they tell.
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Featherine and Bernkastel
-As Hanyuu is to Rika, so Featherine is to Bern... more or less. They’re still a god and her miko.
-Unlike Rika and Hanyuu, Bern and Featherine do not share their senses.
-Rika and Bern have both lived beyond a normal human’s lifespan, but they both still consider themselves young in comparison to Hanyuu/Featherine’s ancient existence.
-When Rika would bully Hanyuu, Hanyuu did little but cry and complain.  Bern still backtalks and is generally disrespectful of Featherine, but the result is different - Bern’s the one acting defensive and scared while Featherine is merely amused by it.
-Bern is also distrustful yet subservient toward Featherine in a way Rika never was to Hanyuu.
-However, when Bern is in danger, she will demand that Featherine help her, much as how Rika did the same to Hanyuu once in Matsuribayashi.
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Featherine and Lambdadelta
-Featherine and Lambda appear to be on amicable, if not especially close terms.
-On Featherine’s side, she primarily seems to know Lambda as Bern’s friend and playmate.
-On Lambda’s side, she knows she’s completely outclassed by Featherine, and is very afraid of crossing her.
-Lambda does know quite a bit about Featherine - including that tidbit about Featherine’s personality change in the past.
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Featherine in Higurashi Gou?
Is this Featherine? And what does that mean for the rest of Higurashi Gou? 
Well, after reading this guide, what do you think?
Regardless, this is as far as I can guide you with my knowledge of Umineko. If you wish to go further, you’ll have to forge that path yourself, through the ravenous wilderness of unconfirmed theories and dangerous speculation.
Good luck!
PS: If you’d like a rough map of some popular destinations, I also have an old Bingo Card of Umineko-Gou connection theories.
PPS to folks from Reddit: If you liked this guide, I also do episode analysis/theory posts too.
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The Greayter Omniverse Breakdown
Gray's Cluster
Revolves around Monster Gods and World Survival.
Currently underdevelopment.
This Multiverse is protected by inside forces.
Greyscale Multiverse
Prime and Gris's "Original" Aus. (or at least we tried...)
This Multiverse is protected by Over and Gris.
Lunar Library
Moon Library and the Untitled World it orbits.
Is the home of most, not all Greayter Outcodes.
This Multiverse is run by the Council of Vice & Virtue.
Multi-Multiverse
Mixed worlds of Individuals from Copies of the Undertale Multiverse Fandom and My own Aus. brought into one Au.
Each Multi-world in the Multi-Multiverse has its own story variation and circumstances.
This includes "Mc of home world meets skeletons," "Mc is pulled out of home world into skeleton's world," and "Skeleton meets more skeletons and try to fix a machine," and "Skeletons of different Undergrounds emerge from/around the same mountain [chain]." type of stories.
There is a small grouping of worlds within this multiverse; those are the UTMV crossover worlds. They are undertale x other fandom. These world are not to be interacted with. These worlds are locked.
This Multiverse is protected by The Squad.
This Multiverse was supposed to be protected by Vivid and Krutch (former outcodes).
The Largest Multiverse in the Greayter Omniverse.
Blank Pages
The area between multiverses.
The origin of the Greayter Multiverse.
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myherowritings · 5 years
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Fever Talk
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— “Side effects may include: light-headedness, disorientation, and accidental confessions of love.” You help nurse a fever-ridden Ground Zero back to health, but little did you know it should have come with a warning.
pairing: pro hero!bakugou x manager!reader word count: 3.9k genre: pro hero au, sick fic, fluff
a/n: i wanna take care of sick bakubabe and tuck him in and make him chicken noodle soup and see his flushed face as wipe away his sweat wait what o.o
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In the 294 days you had worked as Ground Zero’s manager, not once had he taken a day off. 
Other than the government enforced national holidays (in which you still had to coerce him to stay home or spend time with friends instead of going to the agency to track new leads), not a weekday had gone by without you seeing him.
Until now. 
You had received a call directly from Bakugou’s physician (because you knew if Ground Zero had his way, he would show up to work regardless of what his doctor said), and they told you he was to stay home for the next three days because of a 38.6 degree fever. 
Your eyes bulged at the news. You haven’t had a fever that bad since you were in elementary school, and even then your parents made you stay home for almost the whole week.
“He shouldn’t overexert himself for the time being,” said his doctor over the phone. “I’m going to fax you the report and you have my full permission to use whatever means required to make Bakugou-san stay in bed.” 
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary, sir.”
“Of course it is, Y/L/N-san.” There was slight static coming from his line. “It is Ground Zero, after all. If you’d never arranged for a car to pick him up and bring him to my office, the only time I’d see him is if he were fatally bleeding out.”
With small huff of laughter, you shook your head. The sad part was you knew what the doctor said was true. Bakugou would work himself to death he could. 
Thankfully, he had an amazing manager (you) to keep the stubborn ass (him) in check.
After ending the phone call with the physician, you settled down to get ahead on some paperwork while you could. But by the time one hour had gone by, you were already finished filing the pages and were left staring off into space as you wondered if Bakugou was doing alright.
You weren’t sure about him, but you definitely hated being left all alone while you were sick. 
Making your own chicken noodle soup just wasn’t the same as having someone make it for you with a sprinkle of love. 
You knew if you were the one with the 38.6 fever, you would want someone to come over and care for you. And you knew that although Bakugou would be utterly indignant if you showed up at his place to help him out, it would be better for him in the long run. 
At least, that’s what you were trying to convince yourself as you clocked out of work and made your way to the nearest convenience store, grabbing the ingredients for chicken noodle soup along with cough drops, lip balm, aloe vera tissues, teas, moisturizer, cooling pads, honey...and then some. 
Okay-- Perhaps you went a tad bit overboard with the care package, but it was only because you wanted Bakugou to feel better so he could get back to work as soon as possible.
There was definitely no other reason. 
You were sure of it.
As you stepped out of the elevator and made your way to his high-rise suite, you fished the spare key he gave you out from your bag. 
“Bakugou-san?” you called, knocking first for courtesy’s sake. When he didn’t reply you unlocked the door and opened it a small crack. “It’s Y/L/N! I’m coming in.” 
You heard a low grunt coming from down the hall and took it as an invitation to head in. 
When you walked inside, you noticed his living room and kitchen were, for the most part, exactly the same as it always did-- Well organized and thoroughly cleaned. The only thing out of place was the white paper bag on the counter with the medicine his physician prescribed. 
Setting the groceries next to his refrigerator, you headed down the hallway with the care package in hand. “I heard you’re not feeling well.” 
There was a quiet grumble of protest that made you snort.
“Can I come in?” you asked, stopping inches from his doorway. “I have some things for you.” 
“Hmmph,” was his coherent reply.
The first thing you saw when you walked in was Bakugou in the center of his king-sized bed, comforter and blankets half strewn across him, half draped on the floor. His cheeks were flushed a pale pink and his bangs were clinging to the sides of his face. He had dark circles under his eyes and his shirtless torso was glistening with cold sweat.
You blinked, dragging your gaze away from his chest. “You look terrible.”
He coughed. “Wow, thanks.”
“Have you even taken your medicine yet?” you fretted, going over to the side of his bed and pressing the back of your hand against his forehead.
His only response was a groan.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
In a weak movement, Bakugou swatted your hand away from his head and frowned. “I don’t need the stupid medicine.” 
You pursed your lips, checking his temperature once more only to have him shove your hand away. This game went on for a good five minutes before you cried out in frustration.
“Let me check your fucking temperature!”
His eyes shot open in shock before they narrowed in your direction. Through a fit of coughs, he yelled, “You’re not supposed to shout a sick person, baka!”
“There’s an exception if shouting is the only way words will get through the thick skull of theirs!” 
With an exasperated sigh, you cupped his face between your hands and kneeled down until you were eye level with him as he laid down on his bed. You felt him squirm in your grasp but you were unrelenting.
“What the-- What are you doing?!”
In a split second, you gently placed your cool forehead against his warm one, comparing the two temperatures. It was something your parents used to do when you were a child to check if your fever had gone down. The effectiveness of the method? You weren’t quite sure if it was effective at all, really. But you ended up okay, so something about it must’ve worked.
As you felt the heat from his body reach a temperature almost too hot to touch, you frowned. Bakugou’s lips were parted slightly as he let out light huffs of breath.
“Y/L/N…” 
You swallowed. His voice was raspy and his nose was flushed a cute pink color and you absolutely hated your brain for succumbing to the stupid Florence Nightingale effect.
You’re his manager, you scolded yourself. What were you thinking?
“Yes?” you said, a little breathless despite your better judgment. 
“I have to…” He blinked slowly, a weird expression on his face and he softly but firmly pushed you a good distance away. “I have to fucking sneeze--!”
Turning his head to the side as fast as he could and covering his mouth, Bakugou let out the loudest goddamn sneeze you had ever heard in your life. You could’ve sworn his million dollar windows rattled at the force of his monster sneeze.
You looked at him, slightly alarmed. “Uh… Bless you?”
“Thanks,” he mumbled, wiping his nose with a tissue before tossing it into a trashbag. 
Watching him with a curious--and also slightly grossed out--expression, you drummed your fingers against your upper thighs until you figured out what to say.
“Well,” you concluded finally, “you felt really hot.”
Katsuki gave you a blank look. “I could’ve told you that myself.”
You glared. “But I confirmed it.”
“Actually, the doctor confirmed it.” 
“Do you want me to make you chicken noodle soup or not?!”
He instantly shut himself up as he straightened his position on his bed. 
Tilting his head to the side, Bakugou mused, “You can cook?” 
You considered his question. You weren’t as great of a chef as he was, but you could hold your own in the kitchen. “Well, I can cook chicken noodle soup.” 
“Soup does sound nice…” he said dazedly, wiping the cold sweat off his hairline before shutting his eyes as a sudden tingle of pain hit him. 
Your expression softened to one of concern as you rushed out to get his medicine and a glass of water. You returned to his bedside and poured the proper dosage of medication in a small measuring cup. 
“Here. Take this and drink some water, Bakugou-san,” you said, extending your hands out to him.
He accepted the cup with a grateful nod. “Bakugou.”
You blinked. “Pardon?”
“Just Bakugou.” He drank the medicine in a gulp and washed the taste down with some warm water before meeting your gaze. “We yell at each other all the time and you’re here in my bedroom alone-- I think we’ve been past the honorifics for a while now.” 
Your cheeks heated up. Sure, the two of you were close-- Closer than most managers and their clients. But officially dropping the honorifics seemed like a whole other step in your relationship. And you hated that you were so happy about it.
“Right… Bakugou,” you said slowly, testing out the sound. You smiled, growing nervous as you looked away. “Well, Bakugou, I’m going to make you some soup now. You just drink some more water and lie down, okay?” 
Katsuki grunted in what you thought was a noise of agreement. 
You turned around to leave the room only to be stopped by his sudden voice.
“Y/L/N?” he called, placing the glass of water on his nightstand. “Thank you.” 
“You’re welcome,” you choked out, surprised by his show of sentiment.
And as you hurried out of the room towards the kitchen, you tried to ignore the pounding of your heart as a disoriented grin spread across your face. 
Just Bakugou, huh?
- - - - -
“So, how does it taste?” you asked eagerly, staring at him as he took the spoonful of soup into his mouth.
“All my senses are dulled, but it seems good.” He swallowed the broth with a shrug of approval. “Do you really have to feed me though?” 
You stopped blowing air onto the soup-filled spoon to face Bakugou with a wide-eyed look. When you had returned from the kitchen with a bowl of hot chicken noodle soup in hand, you found him sprawled out on his bed with an eerily peaceful half-smile on his face. 
Meaning the medicine had just kicked in. 
Naturally, you were quite concerned over his unnervingly lax state of being, but after reading the warnings and directions on the box, your worries quickly faded. 
Side Effects May Include: drowsiness, nausea, fatigue, confusion, disorientation…
The list went on, but the only side effect you noticed was how disoriented and loopy he was. Katsuki was significantly less aggressive than his normal self and you could’ve sworn you even heard an uncharacteristic giggle or two come out of him. 
As much as you admired the headstrong and determined Ground Zero, cute and frivolous Bakugou was something you would most likely never witness again in your life. So of course, you had to make the most of it while you could.
“Of course I have to spoon-feed you, Bakugou,” you said with a tsk. “What if you spill on yourself and get even more sick?”
“I’m not sure that’s how it works,” he mumbled, but still parted his lips as you brought the spoon closer to his mouth.
You sighed, amused. Even drugged up with a 38.6 degree fever, he was still a smartass.
“Just eat your noodles.”
His nose crinkled at the demand in such a way that made you want to tweak it, but you refrained, instead scooping up more soup and cooling it down with some air. 
After the long (and rather difficult) process of making Bakugou finish his food and water, you quickly washed the dishes and cleared the kitchen, returning to his bedroom with a cooling pad in hand.
“Bakugou,” you said quietly, peering down at his resting form. “I brought you something.”
It didn’t look like he was in any pain, but his cheeks were still an angry pink color with damp hair framing his face. Kneeling by his bedside, you wiped a droplet of sweat from his brow with a hand towel and brushed his hair aside. 
His eyes fluttered open at your touch and his half-lidded expression was filled with daze and vulnerability. Katsuki reached his hand out to poke your cheek and you froze. 
“Wh-What are you doing?” 
“Your face looks nice,” he mumbled in reply, his voice so drawn out you were certain it could only be the medication talking. “And your hair, too.”
He grabbed a strand of your hair and ran his finger through before getting caught in a tangle. Bakugou’s mouth quirked downwards into a pout and you wished you had a camera at the ready to capture that moment (and definitely not use it as a potential source of blackmail).
Although you knew his words came from a fever-induced haze, you still felt your face heat up at all the attention he was giving you. “Thanks. Y-Your face looks nice, too.” 
“Hmm.”
With a satisfied nod, he dropped his hand and shut his eyes again, breaths growing steady. 
You let out an amused breath of laughter as you continued wiping the sweat off his face. When Katsuki seemed significantly less sweaty, you pressed the back of your hand against his forehead. His temperature didn’t seem as hot as before, but he would definitely not be well enough to go back to work tomorrow. 
“How are you feeling, Bakugou?”
“Hot.”
He tossed his sheets off him, revealing his perfectly toned chest and abdomen for the second time today. If you had known you were going to be attacked like this, you would’ve come better prepared with a cold water bottle and hand-held fan. Preferably with a mist attachment. 
You cleared your throat. “I brought a cooling pad. Would that be helpful?”
“Hmm,” he moaned in confirmation.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” 
While a cooling pad wouldn’t reduce Bakugou’s fever, it would help make the heat slightly more bearable. And as you felt his body heat, you couldn’t help but wonder if his quirk helped him stay more tolerant of the high temperatures, or only caused him to feel hotter-- But that was a question for another day when he was no longer ill.
Pushing his hair back to reveal his forehead, you placed the gel cooling pad you bought from the store on his face, gently smoothing it down with the pad of your thumb.
Satisfied at your work, you smiled down at Katsuki, ready to stand up and take your leave. But as you stood, his sudden voice stopped you.
“Thank you...angel.” 
Almost choked in surprise when you heard that word come out of his mouth. Was he referring to you? Well, of fucking course he was, you snapped at yourself. Unless he was talking to himself, you dumbass. 
You open your mouth and clamped it shut a few times, completely speechless as he laid on his bed with what you could’ve sworn was an amused smile on his face. Thankfully, you didn’t have to think of what to say because he seemed to knock out as quickly as he said those words. 
His breathing shallowed and you let out a sigh of relief knowing you were safe from further embarrassment for today. 
“Why can’t I just tell you I like you?” you murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear as he drifted off into a deep sleep. “You’re a stubborn client and you make my head hurt, but I can’t get your stupid face out of my head.” 
You glared down at him but, as expected from a sleeping person, the only response was a soft snore.
You sighed, pushing yourself off his bedside and wiping your palms against your upper thighs as you exited his room. “Get well soon, Bakugou.” 
Maybe one day you’d have the courage to tell him your feelings when he wasn’t sound asleep.
- - - - -
Three days had passed since you helped nurse Katsuki during the peak of his fever, and now he was back and better than ever.
Actually, that was a blatant lie he told you on the phone as he called in saying he was showing up to work. Most employees called hours earlier to say they were calling out. But not the famed Ground Zero-- Nope. He was certainly something special.
When he showed up, he was still coughing and sniffling here and there, but attitude-wise, it seemed like he was in tip-top shape with his usual obstinance and unyielding passion you had grown to admire.
“Glad you’re feeling better, Bakugou-san,” you greeted when you entered his office, a friendly but obviously work-appropriate smile on your face.
He raised a brow when he noticed, adjusting the cuffs on his work shirt as he glanced at you.
“What happened to just Bakugou, Y/L/N?” he asked nonchalantly in what was almost a playful tone.
You blinked rapidly. Did you get sick and now this was just some weirdly vivid fever dream? 
“Ah-- You had a fever when you said to drop the honorifics and so-- I figured it was just the illness talking.” 
“Well it wasn’t,” Katsuki said simply. “Why would I say something I don’t mean?”
Quirking your head to the side, you stared at him curiously. “So when you said I had a nice face and pretty hair and called me and angel…” you trailed off teasingly. “You meant it?”
A subtle blush formed on his face as he rolled his eyes, scoffing to disguise his embarrassment. You tried not to smirk. 
“Tch. I change my mind,” he grumbled, staring down at his unopened paperwork. “You’re right-- That was just fever talk.”
“Of course,” you agreed with an innocent smile that told Katsuki you didn’t believe him one bit.
Bakugou scowled. “What’s that smile for, baka? It’s not like you didn’t say embarrassing things yesterday either.”
“Oh, like what?”
“When you thought I was sleeping and told me you liked me.”
Your smile dropped and your face felt hot enough to burst into flames so big, it would’ve given Ground Zero himself a run for his money. When your gaze met his, you caught sight of the small smirk on his face and wondered how Bakugou was so quickly able to regain the upper hand. 
You told him you liked him when you were certain he was sleeping-- Not when you thought he was. He was snoring when you said it, for crying out loud! So either he was bluffing about hearing your confession, or he was only pretending to sleep the other day to hear what you had to say.
Narrowing your eyes, you huffed. You certainly wouldn’t put the latter option past him.
“You heard that?”
“Memorized every word.”
“Well,” you said haughtily, a sorry attempt to save face, “if what you said was just fever talk, then what I said was just Florence Nightingale talk.” 
He grunted. “That’s stupid.”
“So are you!” you cried, growing increasingly flustered by the minute.
“That’s not something you should say to your number one client.”
“And that’s not a tone you should use with your godsend of a manager!”
You felt the tension rising, but instead of him snapping back with a snarky comment that would send you to the grave, Bakugou let out a throaty chuckle that left you staring uncertainly at him.
“You’re right.”
You blinked. “I’m what?”
“You’re right.” He snorted at the confused expression on your face, but sobered as he said, “Thank you. For taking care of me the other day. I know it’s not part of your job description and you didn’t have to do that-- But you did. So, thanks.” 
Biting the inside of your lip you held back a shy smile.
“O-Oh. You’re welcome,” you said, a faint flush on your cheek as you tried to let go of the topic. “Anything for my favorite Pro Hero.” 
But apparently, Bakugou wasn’t ready to let go of said topic.
“Your favorite Pro Hero…whom you like?” he pressed, a mischievous glint never leaving his eyes.
A sinking feeling set in your stomach when you realized there was no use denying it any longer-- Bakugou would forever and always hold this against you and there was nothing you would do about it. 
“Maybe,” you forced out, puffing your chest up despite the shakiness of your voice. 
There was a beat of silence and you held your breath. The moment felt like it lasted for eternity and you were ready to plug your ears and run to the other room instead of waiting for his response. But you swallowed your pride and held your head up high… Only to hear a reply you were not at all expecting. 
“Good. Because I hear he might like you, too.”
Your eyes widened. “What? He-- I mean you… What?” 
“I like you.” Katsuki shrugged. 
You blinked. “I also like you.”
His red eyes gleamed as he grinned. “I know.” 
Bakugou took slow, purposeful steps around his desk until he stood mere inches in front of you. You gulped, eyes darting from the ceilings to the walls as you avoided his intense gaze.
“I like you and you like me. And we’re not dumb high schoolers in U.A. anymore, Y/L/N,” he said, an amused tone despite the serious look on his face. “So what are we going to do about it?”
“You tell me.” 
His eyebrow quirked at the challenge and you mentally high-fived yourself for your uncharacteristically nonchalant reply. “I think I’m going to do something I’ve wanted to do for a while now.”
Katsuki’s pupils were dilated and he looked at you in such a way that made exactly what he wanted to do quite clear.
You briefly looked around his office-- No one else was in the room, the door was shut and locked, and there was a handsome Pro Hero in front of you looking like he was seconds away from devouring his next meal.
“Then do it,” you said.
In the blink of an eye, Bakugou placed one hand on the small of your back to push your body closer to his while the other gently cupped your cheek, tilting your chin up as you met the teasing brush of his lower lip. A quiet gasp escaped your mouth at the sudden spark and you found yourself throwing your arms around the nape of his neck to steady yourself, fingers softly gripping the base of his hair as he deepened the kiss.
Katsuki kissed you until your head felt like it was spinning, then kissed you again once you had the chance to catch your breath. It was deep and passionate and all your senses were filled with traces of him.
“Well, we definitely did something,” you managed to say in between pants as his mouth found the sensitive spot behind your ear.
“Took us long enough,” Bakugou mumbled, lifting you up by the thighs as seating you on top of his desk. “Now, if we’re done talking, I think we have more things we need to catch up on.”
It was safe to say making out with Ground Zero in his penthouse office would forever be one of the best moments in your life.
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a/n: whoop, the end! okay i know they don’t exactly act like manager and client but pfft i’ve been playing bts world and my managerial skills are great so i’m def qualified to write this ;p anyway hope you enjoyed this mess of a fic! i struggled so hard writing this request and i’m not that proud tbh but i hope it made you smile at least! :) xx sof
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wingsofkpop · 4 years
Text
Hiraeth — I.II: Curosity Killed the Cat
pairing(s):  Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader
genre:  Supernatual!AU, Dark Magic!AU, Angst, slight Fluff, eventual Smut
warning(s): Mature language, descriptions of death and murder, mentions of blood, mentions of traumatic experiences, mention of reader having an anxiety attack, etc.
word count: 6,6k
synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…
chapter directory
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“Jihyo, please just—OW!” Pain shoots like electricity through your limbs as your hip catches the railing of the stairwell while your ankle rolls dangerously along the edge of the top step. You cling to your roommate’s shoulders, trying to find balance in the midst of her steel-like grip to avoid inevitably breaking a bone… or your entire body.  
“Shit. Sorry, (Y/N).” Jihyo murmurs apologetically, hoisting your arm higher around her shoulders. You bite back a frustrated retort and instead, find the patience to allow your support to haul you toward your shared apartment’s door. There’s honestly no need for Jihyo’s help in scaling the stairways, seeing as somehow, after the incident in the alleyway, you were completely unscathed, but she insisted. And when Jihyo puts her mind to something, there’s no pulling her out. 
Jihyo kicks open the door after unlocking it, and tugs you forward with a proud grin, “Home sweet home. All in one piece.” 
“The bruise on my hips says otherwise,” You groan, breathing a sigh of relief when you finally escape her hold. “I think I’m more hurt than I was in the actual hospital.” 
“Hush, child.” Jihyo drags the warm jacket from your shoulders before bending down to undo the laces of your boots. You sigh, but make no complaint about her fussing—you’d only receive another long lecture anyway. After another minute or two, Jihyo finishes sliding off your boots and guides you into the living room. Your eyes meet the sight of Sana nestled inside the giant, olive beanbag cushion, and two unfamiliar girls settled on the sofa beside her. 
“Look who’s home!” Jihyo calls cheerfully, turning the three sets of eyes away from the Pretty Little Liars rerun playing on the TV screen and in your direction. In the blink of an eye, Sana leaps from her seat and throws herself against your body. You almost lose your balance from the force of impact, but manage to return her hug without fault. 
“I was so worried when Mark called us,” Sana’s arms tighten around your waist. “Don’t scare me like that again, okay?” 
“I’ll try,” You rub her back, “I’m okay, Sana.” 
“You should sit down, (Y/N).” You pull from your friend’s embrace to nod at Jihyo, accepting the spot on the sofa where one of the girls had given up for your benefit. You shoot her a grateful smile, receiving a shy one in return. 
“Oh, that’s right! (Y/N), Jihyo, this is Mina, and Momo—” Sana points to each girl with their respected names, “the friends from my high school in Japan I was telling you guys about. They’re visiting for a few weeks.” 
“Welcome to Moon Dye,” Jihyo nods politely. “Sorry about all this chaos right off the bat. (Y/N), here, managed to land herself in the hospital last night.”
“It’s a long story.” You chuckle, your cheeks growing hot at both Mina and Momo’s concerned stares. “But I’m perfectly fine. Good as new.” 
“What even happened, (Y/N)?” Sana asks curiously while lowering onto the arm of the couch beside you. You open your mouth to answer, but Jihyo’s voice emerges instead: 
“(Y/N)’s already had a rough enough night as it is. Let’s not put her on the spot.” Again, you try to protest your good health, but the girls had already moved to a new subject by the time you open your mouth. 
To be honest, you still don’t believe the story that you fell in that dark alley, hit your head and knocked yourself out—the one that everyone is shoving down your throat. Even Mark didn’t believe you when you tried to explain the details you remember from last night. His words were similar to the very ones that Jinyoung had said: ‘You hit your head, (Y/N). Your memory is probably all sorts of fucked up.’ 
But he’s wrong. Jinyoung is wrong. Everyone else is wrong. You know you were attacked, and maybe you don’t know what it was, but someone—something tried to kill you. And it was pretty damn close… but that just begs another question: How the hell did you survive and come out with not even a scratch? 
“—was just so sudden. I just couldn’t believe it when I heard the news.” You return to reality just in time to see Jihyo shake her head, a pained expression written across her round face. “I mean, how does something like that just happen? You know?” 
“What are you talking about?” 
Four pairs of eyes turn at your voice as Sana answers, “Im Nayeon was found dead in Eclipse Cemetery. My mom said she was killed by an animal.” You heard Mark mention Nayeon’s name a few times in past conversations, but had never spoken to the woman herself. She works in a tiny shop in Poison Square, Moon Dye Bay’s most infamous shopping complex, reading tarot cards and giving fortunes—she worked there, that is. Still, Mark and Nayeon were friends, so he must have known. Is that why he broke down at the hospital? But why wouldn’t he tell you? 
Your eyebrows furrow, “An animal? How is that possible?” 
“What goes around, comes around.” You perk up as one of Sana’s friends, Momo, you believe, speaks up for the first time. She returns your glance with a blank stare, which sends a violent chill up your spine, “It happens to the best of us.” 
“How can you say that?” You scoff, “A girl is dead—” 
“I’m so sorry,” The other friend, the one who relinquished her seat, Mina steps in this time, “My sister can be a little intense sometimes. She didn’t mean it in a condescending way.” 
“You’re sisters?” 
Mina shrugs, “Fostered, actually. We’ve kind of just… stuck together.” 
You nod, “I get it. I was a foster kid too.” Mina nods too, but doesn’t say anything in response. As she’s turning back to the surrounding trio, your eyes catch sight of a shiny, gold necklace tucked into the collar of her shirt. You can’t see the charm on the end, but just by the chain, it looked ancient. Probably a family heirloom of some sorts. 
Your mind returns back to Nayeon before wandering to your own attacker. At the connection, your blood runs cold. Is it possible that whatever monster that attempted to take your life had succeeded in ensnaring Nayeon’s instead? It may explain the reluctance toward your true story, and the attacker’s animal-like behavior… but what of your miraculous recovery? And what does Jinyoung have to do with any of this? 
Something is going on in Moon Dye Bye… and you’re going to find out what. 
“By the way, Momo, I love your tattoo.” You barely catch Jihyo’s comment as you rise from the sofa and begin to make your way toward your bedroom. You hadn’t gotten much sleep at the hospital, partly because of Mark, and partly because you just couldn’t find the will to close your eyes. To be honest, you don’t even know if you’ll be able to catch sleep in your own bed any better. Too lost in your own exhaustion, you don’t catch Sana’s laugh just as you’re shutting your bedroom door: 
“Momo doesn’t have a tattoo, Ji! Are you sure you’re not the one who hit her head!?” 
☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 
The fogginess of his dreamworld fades as Mark gradually begins to awaken from his slumber. He parts his eyelids, only to immediately shut them with an annoyed hiss as a ray of sunlight stabs into his sensitive pupils. To escape the day’s wrath, he rolls to his opposite side and away from the lone window, reminding himself to invest in a set of curtains in the near future. 
Mark forces his upper body upward on the sofa. He groans, the movement placing a strain on his back, and lifts his arms over his head to alleviate the knots of his muscles. With a sigh, Mark wipes the remnants of a poor night’s sleep from his face before glancing back to the window. Judging by the brightness of the sun, he must have slept through the entire morning and early afternoon. 
Mark sighs again, recalling the gruesome nightmares that plagued his slumber: Nayeon’s loud screams stabbing into his soul as an unfamiliar shadow drove a large knife into her immobile body over and over again until he could feel her blood splattering all across his skin. Then, in the midst of his terror, Nayeon’s face would shift to yours… and he could do nothing but watch as the monster stole the life from your eyes… 
He pushes the thought away, suddenly nauseous, and rises from the sofa, heading toward the small kitchenette in the corner to start up a pot of coffee. As he passes the window, Mark notices a couple figures congregating around an array of chipped, ancient headstones. At first, Mark believes them to be the forensic cleaners finishing up the removal of the crime scene, but he catches the sight of the back of Youngjae’s head… and someone he definitely does not want to see. 
“God fucking damnit—” He curses to himself, abandoning his coffee and stomping outside with the beginnings of a sneer pulling across his face. At the call of his name, both Youngjae and his companion turn to face Mark just as he reaches their meeting place, “What the hell is he doing here!?” 
“I’m sorry, hyung… I thought it’d be better if I didn’t tell you about this…” Mark glares at the younger who seems to shudder beneath its intensity. Youngjae looks down guiltily, before silently mumbling something to himself. 
“Don’t be upset with him,” At the voice, Mark shifts his angry gaze to the vampire. “I came on my own accord. I want to make a proposition.” 
“You’ve got to be kidding, right? Why would we ever want to make a deal with you?” 
“Because I can help you find out who killed your seer.” Jinyoung replies coolly, reaching inside the pocket of his casual, navy blazer to pull out a pocket-sized, leather-bound book with cream colored pages. He offers it to Mark, “This is an old journal that belonged to a powerful witch who was a descendant in a long line of Pagan Witchcraft. It contains thousands of ancient scriptures and symbols dating back to the first century.” 
Mark snatches the book and immediately begins to flip through it. None of the text encrypted along the pages are anything he’d ever seen before, likely being written in a different language. He allows the cover to shut and passes it to Youngjae before narrowing his eyes at Jinyoung, “How did you know we were looking for an old symbol?”  
“I have contacts at the morgue, so I paid her body a visit myself.” Mark bites back a frustrated slur and wills himself to let the vampire finish, “In all the centuries I’ve been alive, I have only seen a symbol like that once—in dark magic.” The loathing Mark feels for Jinyoung completely vanishes at the mention of the dark arts, shifting back into the nausea from before. “I believe whoever killed your seer drew power from something, be it a spell or an object, in order to gain enough strength to overpower her, which means—” 
“Whatever doing this is supernatural.” Youngjae finishes with a grimace, “They must have used dark magic to strip her of her powers before she was killed. I couldn’t trace any magic use from her body.” 
“She’s not the first.” Again, Jinyoung retracts a set of papers from his jacket and hands them to Mark, “I’ve traced hundreds of unexplained deaths in dozens of towns. Each witch had that same symbol carved into their chest.” 
“They’re specifically targeting covens— ” Mark breathes, glancing over the provided documents, “Slaughtering them and… fucking hell.” 
Jinyoung nods, “You and your people need to be careful. Whoever is doing this will try to kill again.” Mark hesitates for a moment before mindlessly closing his hand into a fist, crushing the papers in his grasp. He resumes his glare at the vampire. 
“What’s in it for you? Why are you helping us?” 
Jinyoung’s eyes soften, “This town has already seen enough death. I don’t wish for it to see anymore.” 
Jinyoung’s response delivers a harsh punch to Mark’s gut, leaving him almost breathless. Unwanted memories rush into his head like a parasite—the guilt he had pushed down so long ago beginning to eat away at his soul. Too lost inside his own head, Mark remains silent as Jinyoung and Youngjae exchange a couple final words, before the former gestures toward the book in the younger’s hands.
“I have places to be, but let me know if you manage to find the symbol. I’ll see if I can find more information about the murdered covens.” The vampire offers a nod of farewell and turns to leave, but surprising himself, Mark snaps from his headspace and calls out:
“Jinyoung…!” 
Jinyoung halts to peer over his shoulder, “Yes?” Mark hesitates again, somewhere in between what seems to be long-harbored resentment and mental exhaustion. His eyes glance toward the gravel pathway meters away where Nayeon’s corpse had laid only hours ago, until his mind shifts to thoughts about you: The warmth of your arms… The genuine promise of your voice… The gleam of your eyes… All of his anger immediately dissipates. 
He nods, “I don’t want anyone else to die either.” Jinyoung merely blinks in response before continuing his journey toward the exit of the cemetery. Mark watches his silhouette fade into the glare of the afternoon sun with the documents still tightly grasped in his palms. Only once the vampire is out of sight does he release a sigh and face his younger companion: 
“Call Minho, Jisung and Lia, and get them all here.” Mark combs a hand through his hair with a huff, “No one leaves my sight until we catch this fucker and put them so far underground, they won’t be able to climb back up from Hell.” 
☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 
Splashes of water splatter across your ankles and wet the bottom of your jeans as you sprint through a massive array of puddles. Although it does little to protect your body from the pouring rain, you tug your jacket tighter around your shoulders. The one evening you choose to take a spur-of-the-moment book run to escape your overdramatic and overbearing roommates, it has to be raining cats and dogs. Luckily, the town’s only bookstore is not too far from your apartment. 
You manage to reach the shop just as the wind begins to pick up and hurriedly push past the door. A sigh falls past your lips, briefly pausing to relish the warm, rain-free atmosphere before receding further into the store. Ever since you moved to Moon Dye, the Bookshop of Lullabies has become one of few places you frequent often. It’s a quaint, little place stuffed from top to bottom with texts of all kinds, and barely enough space for a single person to squeeze through the aisles. If you travel deep enough through the maze of shelves, there’s a tiny nook complete with a window seat and throw cushions softer than a bed of silk—you like to spend a lot of your time cuddled up there with a nice book.  
“Look who finally decided to show up and cure my boredom. Good thing—I was just thinking about chewing my arm off.” Unsurprised, you turn to find a familiar face behind the cashier counter. One that, like the store itself, you have seen quite often. 
You first met Bambam through Mark—the two were friends in high school—at a dinner event his mother, the mayor of Moon Dye, held for his birthday. Aside from the occasional rich kid personality quirks, you’ve found Bambam to be quite a humble and reliable person, especially in providing you discounted books and helpful tips for living in town. 
“Hello to you too, Bam.” You smile. “How are things?” 
Bambam shrugs, “Slow day, and the rain really doesn’t help. Anyway, what are you looking for today? Maybe an edgy dystopian with way too much backstory? Or a sickeningly sweet love story where the simp dies? ” 
“I'll honestly take anything you deem acceptable at this point.” 
“You’re giving me way too much trust there, babygirl.” He chuckles, pilfering through a nearby box of books in order to gratify your request. “Mark told me you had a pretty rough spill last night. You okay?” 
“To be completely honest—not really.” You traipse over to the counter and lay your bag across its surface. Bambam moves aside some books to make room before offering a nearby stool for you to sit, “I just, I’m still confused on what happened.”
“What do you mean?” 
“Everybody says I fell and hit my head, but I don’t think that’s what happened—no—” You shake your head, “I know that’s not what happened, but it’s like everyone is just, I don’t know… hiding something.” Through the corner of your eye, you notice how Bambam’s shoulders tense at your comment, but brush it off as an odd tick. “But I guess what I don’t understand is why they’d want to… I mean, Mark would never keep something that important from me…” Once again, the clerk’s body fidgets uncomfortably—this time, furthering the suspicion brewing in your gut.
Your eyes narrow, “Bam… Do you know something that I don’t?” 
He seems to hesitate, running a hand through his tousled ivory-dyed tresses before peering toward the door, as if expecting someone else to enter. You open your mouth to pry, but Bambam’s answer beats you to it, “There’s a lot of things I know that you don’t…” 
“What the hell is that supposed to mean—?” 
“It means that this town has secrets…” The abrupt change in his tone increases the uneasiness in your stomach, temporarily changing your frustrated mood to one of fear. A violent shiver crawls down your spine at his next words, “...secrets that can get you killed.”
“What secrets?” Your annoyance returns at his ambiguous response, “What does this have to do with what happened to me last night?” 
“Well, you were attacked, weren’t you?” 
Your blood turns cold. “How the fuck do you know that?” 
“I told you, I know a lot of things.” He releases a sigh before bending down to disappear behind the wood of the counter. He returns only seconds later with a seemingly old, leather-bound book clutched in both hands. You watch, wide-eyed like a fish, as he slides the object toward you. 
“This journal belonged to my great-, great-, great-grandmother, the first ever mayor of Moon Dye Bay.” Bambam begins, watching closely as you cautiously grab the text as if it would turn to dust in your grasp. “It contains private information about the town you won’t find anywhere else.” 
“And you’re just giving it to me?” 
“I’m pointing you in the right direction.” He states matter-of-factly, “If you live in this town, you should know what you’re up against.” 
“Why can’t you just tell me?” 
“Because if anyone were to find out, it would be dangerous for the both of us.” 
“But why—?”
“Please just trust me on this, (Y/N).”  You can do nothing but stare at Bambam, your thoughts too much of a jumbled, chaotic mess to come up with another reply. You want to insist—you want to insist over and over again until the clerk eventually spills—but you know it’s hopeless. There are few moments where Bambam is ever this serious, so whatever mess you managed to get yourself into—it’s crucial. 
You finally nod after another eon of silence and tuck the old journal inside your bag, “How much?”
“Consider it a six-month late welcome-to-town gift.” Bambam’s poor attempt at humor does little to lift your spirits, but you still scrounge up a weak smile and an even weaker thank you. As you make your way toward the exit, you can feel his eyes burning into the back of your head, and for once in a lifetime, you can’t wait to head out into the pouring rain. Just as you’re pushing through the door, Bambam calls out: 
“Hey, babygirl?”  
You turn with a sigh, “What is it, Bam?” 
“Just be careful, okay?” He murmurs heavily, “Those monsters that used to hide under our beds when we were kids, well… They grew up too.” You don’t bother to answer, send the clerk a parting nod and take off into the blurriness outside the bookstore. Your lungs welcome the damp air, attempting to soothe the racing of your heart with each breath. Even though you’re all wrapped up in your coat, your hands still tremble.
If what Bambam said is true, and this town is hiding something, and you eventually do find out what that something is, then how badly will it change your life? You moved to Moon Dye Bay to escape the traumas of your past… not to create new demons that will haunt your mind day and night. It’s been so long since you’ve felt what it feels like to belong somewhere, but then… Do you really want a place full of darkness, secrets and lies as a home? 
You quickly dash across the street, barely avoiding an approaching car driving way over the given speed limit. The rain only makes the atmosphere more ominous, both obscuring your vision and deafening your ears. Images from last night pop into your head which fuels the hurriedness of your pace. You can’t seem to control your breathing, or the anxiety swallowing your form. 
What if that monster was following you as you think? Is he aching to finish the job he failed to last night, and take your life as his prize? What if there’s no miracle there to save you this time? What if you die in a wet, dark alleyway where nothing but the rats can—?  
“(Y/N)? Are you alright?” You hadn’t realized somewhere in your rush you’d paused to rest against the building, awakening from your panicked trance at the warm voice that invades your ears like honey. You quickly compose yourself, shove your now vibrating hands in the pocket of your coat, and turn to face the familiar face with a confused expression. 
“Jinyoung? Are you following me?” 
“Where would you get an idea like that?” Jinyoung hurriedly pulls you underneath the awning of a shop and out of the rain. “I just left the police station and saw you out here by yourself. You seem… stressed.” 
“Aside from wet socks, I’m alright.” You shake your head, “Why were you at the police station?” 
“I had some business to take care of,” He answers, obviously not desiring to provide any more details to satiate your curiosity. “Anyway, what brings you out in this weather?” 
“Honestly, I just needed to escape from my crazy, overbearing roommates.” You shake the rain from your hair with a chuckle, “Just left the bookstore actually.” 
“I didn’t take you for the bookworm type.” 
“What? Just because I don’t exude the ‘shy, silent, glasses-wearing’ stereotype?” 
Jinyoung chuckles at your comeback, the sound gritty and amused, before placing a hand over his chest, “My apologies. I didn’t mean to offend you.” 
“Well, choose your words more carefully then.” 
He nods with a smile, “I’ll definitely do that.” The raindrops pelting against the top of the awning creates a comfortable rhythm as you and Jinyoung fall into a heavy silence. Jinyoung continues to wear his tight, close-lipped smile while you continue to stare, not knowing whether to comment on his odd talent in appearing out of nowhere or reminisce in the storminess of his brown irises. You choose neither, and opt to end the conversation where it is: 
“It was really nice to see you again, but I should get back before the weather turns into a full-blown hurricane.” 
“That would probably be best,” Jinyoung steps aside, allowing you the room to pass by, and hums, “It’s always a pleasure, (Y/N).” You shoot him a grateful smile before launching back into the raging of the storm, immediately missing his uniquely charming aura and caramel-like gaze. Just from the interaction with Jinyoung, both your mind and body feel much more relaxed and in a way… almost safe. 
Too deep in your own thoughts, you fail to catch the second shadow that slinks out of a nearby alleyway and behind Jinyoung’s broad body.
☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 
“Have you lost your goddamn mind!?” Mark pinches the bridge of his nose at the high-pitched wail of the fuming, dark-haired witch, suddenly craving a drink to take the edge off of his nerves. Maybe they have some leftover grey goose in the cupboard— “You must have, cause you just made a deal with the fucking devil!” 
“Can you at least try not to yell?” From the center of a nearby ring of burning candles and sage on the floor, Lia sighs in annoyance, “I’m pretty sure the entire town can hear you at this point.” 
“Shut up!” Minho hisses at the female, before replacing his laser-like glare back on Mark. “I mean, you do understand how utterly stupid this entire thing is, right!? Things suddenly turn to shit and you run to those bloodsucking bastards for help!?” 
“He gave us a book, Minho. It’s not like I signed our souls away.” 
He scoffs, “You might as well have! Didn’t it ever occur to you that the Primes just want an opportunity to pick us off like flies? I mean, how do we know they weren’t the ones that killed Nayeon?”
“Youngjae’s tracking spell would have picked up their trail.” Mark sluggishly walks toward the stove, retrieving the whistling kettle before its volume reaches that of a shrill scream. He sighs and generously refills his coffee cup, “And you know very well that if they wanted us dead, we would have been in the ground months ago.” 
“You’re not listening to me!” Mark takes a sip of the steaming stimulant, the liquid doing nothing to ease the pounding of his head as Minho continues to rant, “We are all going to end up dead! We should have run them out of town when we had the opportunity in the first place—” 
“Oh my fucking god! Can you shut your mouth for a goddamn second!?” Lia’s anger sends chaos throughout the mausoleum. Jisung barely avoids a barrage of books spilling from their shelves while Youngjae ducks in time for a potted plant to fly over his head and shatter against the wall. Lia storms across the room, a trail of hot flames following her steps, and pokes a single finger into Minho’s chest with a sneer, “Nayeon-unnie is dead, okay!? And there is a psycho out there right now with their eyes on another witch in this room!? Mark is doing the best he can so it’s not your moronic ass that’s next on the hit list!” 
Minho remains silent, visibly surprised by the younger witch’s outburst. For a moment, Mark notices a spark of guilt behind his eyes before they shift to their usual cold exterior. 
“I don’t want anyone else to die, okay? But making a truce with one of the oldest vampires in existence is not a good plan—” 
“Well, it’s the only plan we have right now.” Mark sighs, “I do what’s best for my people—to keep you safe.” 
Minho stares coldly at Mark, “Yeah, just like you kept Jackson safe. Right?” 
Stunned by the witch’s sudden question, Mark is both physically and mentally unable to respond. He simply stares back at Minho with his jaw practically dropped to the floor. Minho shamelessly meets his eyes, as if finding joy out of Mark’s shock. 
“Hey, guys…” The brief moment of tension breaks at Youngjae’s call, who all this time, had been stationed behind the lectern flipping through the journal Jinyoung had gifted only hours ago. Mark feels the many cups of coffee sitting in his stomach churn at the absolute terror spread along Youngjae’s face. Though at his next words, Mark almost believes his entire insides turn inside-out,  “I found the symbol that was on Nayeon’s body…
“It means ‘Hunter’.” 
☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 
Jinyoung watches your silhouette recede into the blur of the rain with a smile. His mind reels back to your conversation, and how prettily your eyes shimmered in the mist. If it were any other person, Jinyoung wouldn’t care much for the spitfire-type of attitude, but with you… He actually enjoys your ferocious nature. It showcases your livelihood—and mortal strength. 
Jinyoung had planned to keep his word to Mark and steer clear, but he couldn’t help himself. Not when he spotted you standing in the midst of the storm. Something inside him is drawn to you, almost like a moth to a flame. It excites him, but startles him all the same. Never before has Jinyoung felt such a magnetic pull to another person—certainly not a human woman. Though, the rational voice in the back of his head still believes some part of you is not all that mortal… 
A wave of chill dampens the cheeriness of his mood, pulling a sigh of annoyance from his lips. He doesn’t have to turn around to feel the stealthy presence behind him. With one last glance toward the direction in which you vanished, and another huff, Jinyoung tugs on the lapels of his blazer and speaks: 
“Following me again, hyung?” 
A deep-set chuckle carries into Jinyoung’s ears, “In all our centuries together, I’ve never quite succeeded in getting anything past you… huh, Jinyoungie?” Jinyoung turns to face his brother, immediately growing more annoyed at his usual, nonchalant stance complete with lazily crossed arms, tilted head and a devious smirk along his lips. “Though, if I knew any better, I’d believe you’re not exactly thrilled to see me?” 
“Well, do you know any better?” 
Jaebeom laughs, “You’re still upset with me. What else is new.” 
“Forgive me if I’m not jumping through the roof because of your erratic behavior.” Jinyoung shoots his brother a glare before shoving his right hand in the respected pocket of his jeans. “Nine bodies all drained of blood, hyung. Do you not understand the concept of remaining inconspicuous?” 
“What can I say? I was rather famished last night.” 
Jinyoung stares at Jaebeom with a blank expression, “Does human life mean that little to you? Truly?” 
Jaebeom releases a heavy sigh, pushes off the brick wall in which he was leaning against, and takes a couple steps forward until he and Jinyoung are only inches from sharing oxygen. He provides his younger brother another smirk and shrugs, “There was a time we used to share the same perspective, brother. And if I remember correctly, you were much, much worse than I am.” 
“That is in the past.” 
“Ah. Of course.” Jaebeom retracts a silver-coated lighter from the pocket of his black, shredded jeans. Jinyoung watches the older play with the tool, repeatedly striking the light over and over again as he continues, “So… Are you going to tell your dear brother about the lovely girl that’s caught your eye?” 
Jinyoung’s patience immediately gives out at your mention. His features pull into a sneer, glaring at the amusement spreading along Jaebeom’s face. 
“Leave it alone.” 
“You do like her then?” Jaebeom’s smirk widens to a grin, “Wow. I’d never thought I’d live to see the day Park Jinyoung falls for a human.” Jinyoung tries to keep his self-control intact as Jaebeom proceeds to laugh, lifting the flame of the lighter up to the level of his eyes—malice visibly flickering in the light of his irises. “She must be very, very special…” 
Jinyoung growls, “I said, leave it alone. I’m not playing your games now, hyung.” 
“I only want to know what sweet (Y/N) has done to gain my little brother’s attention. Maybe it’s her spunk? Or her beautiful face? Or just maybe, the delectable taste of her delicious blo—” In the blink of an eye, Jinyoung has Jaebeom pressed against the same wall he was leaning against only moments before with an arm at his throat. Jinyoung can actually see his own rage in the reflection of Jaebeom’s black eyes. 
“You will stay away from her.” Jinyoung murmurs dangerously, relishing proudly in Jaebeom’s stunned expression. “Do not push me on this. Or I will push back.” Jinyoung releases his hold on his brother, pausing to straighten out the wrinkles of his blazer. Jaebeom continues to stare at the younger with bewilderment, unable to say anything in response. 
An annoyed breath leaves Jinyoung’s lips as he peers down at his watch, “I’m late. We will discuss this when I return back to the manor.” He shoots Jaebeom a pointed glance, “Please refrain from getting yourself into any more trouble. If you even can.” Without as much as a goodbye, Jinyoung brushes past Jaebeom and into the rain that’s coming down even heavier. He tries not to think about the paranoia and fear budding in his gut and instead focus the soaked path ahead, but even his own mind betrays him. 
Jinyoung knows Jaebeom. He’s known him for almost a millennium. He knows that if he makes one wrong move, Jaebeom won’t hesitate to retaliate against him—retaliate by using you. Jinyoung shakes his head with a sigh, savoring the chill of the rain against his body. If it comes down to it, he won’t hesitate to to protect you from his brother in any way he has to… 
He should have kept his word, and stayed away. 
 ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 
“You sure you don’t need anything else? Water? Another blanket? Some ramen?” You roll your eyes at your roommate’s barrage of questions, unable to help the soft smile that lifts to your lips. As smothering and irritating as Jihyo’s overprotectiveness can be, it’s nice to have someone looking out for your well being—even though she can be a helicopter mom sometimes. 
“It’s not like I’m paralyzed, Ji.” You reach forward to take her hand into your own, “I’m okay.” 
Jihyo squeezes your fingers, “I just… worry about you, you know? You’ve been through a lot.” Though she doesn’t specify, you know for a fact that she isn’t talking about the hospital visit. Your heart aches for as long you allow it to, before pushing the unwanted feelings away. You playfully nudge her shoulder with a chuckle. 
“You worry about everything. Now seriously, clear out.” Jihyo follows your lead to your bedroom door, staying still to allow you to check up on her hair and makeup. When you deem her appearance to be nothing less than perfect, you nod, “Sana won’t let either of us hear the end of it if at least one of us doesn’t go clubbing with her, Momo and Mina.” 
“What will you do, tonight?” 
“I have some stuff to finish for the university. Or I’ll just binge-watch some Sex and the City.” Jihyo accepts your answer, lifting her arms to bring your body into a short, tight hug. When she pulls away, you send her a wink, “Try not to get too trashed, alright? I really don’t want to be picking your drunk ass up at three in the morning.” 
“No promises,” She hums. “Thanks, (Y/N).” 
“Go have fun, gorgeous.” You give Jihyo a thumbs up as she steps from your bedroom. No sooner does Sana pounce on your roommate, and in a matter of seconds, drags her toward the exit with Mina and Momo not far behind. You wait through the girlish giggles and chatter until the slam of the front door carries from the front hallway—you’re finally alone. 
You quickly shut your door, making sure to turn the lock, and hop over to the tiny desk you somehow squeezed in the corner. When you moved in with Sana and Jihyo, they had to convert a storage closet into a bedroom since the apartment only came with one small master, now Sana’s space, and an even smaller office, where Jihyo resides. So your room is basically a shoebox with a single window and enough room for a bed, clothing chest, and a desk and bookshelf set. Even so, you’ve managed to spruce the place up with frilly rugs, decorative succulents and some cheap fairy lights, 
After yanking the curtains above your bed closed and double-checking the door, you retract the journal Bambam had given you from where you hid it earlier underneath your pillow. The leather is shockingly cool against your palm, almost searing into your flesh. Whether it’s the nerves or the excitement that’s making your pulse beat like a racehorse, you’re not so sure. But to be honest, it doesn’t matter to you… not as much as the truth that awaits. You settle back into your desk chair and open to the first page. 
There’s a name scrawled on the inside of the cover in a handwritten font you’ve only seen in historical documents and creative poetry projects. You recognize Bambam’s last name, Bhuwakul. The next page holds a diary entry in the same handwriting, dating back to 1770. Not desiring to wait any longer, you begin to read the entry: 
Day 1 — I have been traveling day and night for many months. My long journey has been filled with hardship, starvation and exhaustion. But my efforts have finally paid off. On a night when the moon was full and bright, I stumbled across a small village only miles from the edge of the sea. The townspeople welcomed me and my brother into their borders. Fed us. Clothed us. And even offered us a home to where we could reside as long as we wished. I believe we will stay here in Moon Dye Bay. For good. 
You flip through the rest of the pages, delving into the story of Bambam’s great-, great-, great-grandmother and her new life on the bay—how she bettered the town and its inhabitants, soon earning her title as the first ever mayor. You find yourself immersed in the personal account of her life, relating to her worries, wants, and wishes. Somewhere in the story, you completely forgot about Bambam’s warning… until you reach an entry that makes your skin crawl: 
Day 196 — There’s a murderer in town. We’ve lost eleven of our people. Three men. Seven women. And one child. I believe this person, no—this monster enjoys it. This monster enjoys draining the blood from their victims like rum, and tearing open their throats like a child opens a gift. This monster enjoys hearing them scream for mercy—watching the fear in their eyes blossom like flowers. But mostly, I believe this monster enjoys the hunt. I spoke to the Wang faction the other night, and some of the ladies said they felt as if they are being watched at night, when they are alone—as if the monster is lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right chance to kill. 
The passage reminds you heavily of what happened last night. Your attacker had done everything in which Bhuwakul described, even the part about tearing your throat open. You don’t bother to acknowledge the spinning of your head and instead, mindlessly flip through the journal. Your lack of attention no longer allows you to fully read the entries, only skim—until you reach another that catches your eye:   
Day 209 — It’s unlike anything I could ever imagine… This pain—this grief… My brother is dead and it’s because of those murderers… Because of those demons… We’ve all been blinded by their charms… but no more… I will expose them to the villagers for what they truly are… so no one else can be victimized by their deceit… 
You almost faint as you read the next sentence that follows: 
—Park Jinyoung and Im Jaebeom are vampires. And they’re coming to kill me next.
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I posted 7,820 times in 2022
That's 2,060 more posts than 2021!
47 posts created (1%)
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I tagged 1,981 of my posts in 2022
#period drama - 459 posts
#bridgerton - 252 posts
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#books - 213 posts
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#perfect movie - 137 posts
#the flock - 134 posts
#dead - 125 posts
#otp: hooked - 55 posts
#pride and prejudice - 44 posts
Longest Tag: 140 characters
#give authors a little grace they are doing their bestthe recent antitrust trial should show you publishing doesn't know what the f it's doin
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Fav Peeta moment or quote in each books?
(Please tag other blog who want answer too)
Thank you 😊
@curiouspeetamellark
Oooooh, this is hard because Peeta is my favorite character in the series. Let's see... I'm doing both moment and quote because my favorite moments don't have my favorite quotes.
The Hunger Games:
Moment:The cave scene is the obvious choice, but I absolutely adore when he's teasing her in the river to help ease her stress over his injury. That scene just really highlights his easy-going, self-deprecating humor and I love him for it. Not caring if she and the entire country see him naked? Iconic.
Quote: I stand by this being the most important quote in the series because it shapes Katniss' narrative and how she moves forward in the series. And also because it proves Peeta isn't some weak character.
"I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not...No, when the time comes, I'm sure I'll kill just like everybody else. I can't go down without a fight. Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to--to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games," says Peeta.
Catching Fire:
Moment: Listen, Peeta Mellark shines in this book. Shines like the sparkling pearl that he is. Collins made him shine because she knew what she was going to do to him in Mockingjay and wanted us (and Katniss) to hurt. There are so many moments I could choose.
But my favorite moment probably in the whole series if I'm being honest is when Peeta gets knocked out by the force field and Katniss freaks the eff out, slapping him in the face, flabbergasted when Finnick starts kissing CPR, shoves Finnick out of the way when he comes to, AND THE FIRST THING PEETA SAYS IS "Careful. There's a force field ahead." LIKE. SIR. YOU JUST DIED. YOUR GALLOWS HUMOR IS SHOWING. And then he COMFORTS KATNISS AFTER JUST DYING. A true star. We stan Peeta Mellark in this household.
And then the fact that this moment is Peeta's true death sentence because it's what convinces Snow that Peeta can truly be used against Katniss???? *chef's kiss*
Quote: I am a simple woman and Katniss observing him drawing always gets to me. Look at them, being a normal couple for once, drawing on the couch while her foot heals. Just look at these two idiots.
“I like to watch his hands as he works, making a blank page bloom with strokes of ink, adding touches of color to our previously black and yellowish book. His face takes on a special look when he concentrates. His usual easy expression is replaced by something more intense and removed that suggests an entire world locked away inside him... I don't know quite what to make of it. I also become a little fixated on his eyelashes, which ordinarily you don't notice much because they're so blond. But up close, in the sunlight slanting in from the window, they're a light golden color and so long I don't see how they keep from getting all tangled up when he blinks.”
Mockingjay:
Moment/Quote: I absolutely love when Katniss and Peeta talk for the first time since his hijacking. That scene is incredible and proves Everlark would be incredibly obnoxious in a modern au if/when they ever broke up because that's literally what Mockingjay is with war thrown in. The pain and anger in this scene. Katniss' frustration. Peeta's hard, observant words. I eat this stuff up like it's cake.
"I must have loved you a lot."
"You did." My voice catches and I pretend to cough.
"And did you love me?" he asks.
I keep my eyes on the tiled floor. "Everyone says I did. Everyone says that's why Snow had you tortured. To break me."
"That's not an answer," he tells me.
Thanks for asking, dearie! I think everyone who would do this has already done it, so anyone who wants to talk about Peeta and how awesome he is, I tag you!
21 notes - Posted July 9, 2022
#4
I have a friend who hates Peeta so much, because they only watched the movies. They said that Peeta is a weakling and a stalker etc.
What key point or best qualities of Peeta's I should tell them so they change their mind? Thank you 😊
(Please don't answer with, "they should read the novel, it's so good!", I've tried many times, fail every times 😑) @curiouspeetamellark
Hello! I've seen people answer this, but I finally have the mental ability to get to this. So, let's see!
I think it's important for people to remember the time these movies originally came out in, which was post-Twilight movie era. Everyone and their mother was trying Not to Be Like Twilight. Which is ridiculous and sexist and yeah. Not Great, Bob. But yeah, the movies don't portray Peeta well (especially the first movie) because of this reaction to the Twilight movies. I think it's extremely important to remember that, and looking at interviews with cast for the first movie really drives that home. I wrote my thoughts on how Peeta/Everlark are portrayed in the movies and why it lacked so so much here.
As for qualities: Peeta Mellark is one of the most rebellious character in the series and is crucial to the plot. He doesn't just talk the talk. He walks the walk. Peeta is the one who wants to die as himself and not be a piece in the Capitol's game (which Katniss thinks is DUMB when she first hears it and later understands and embraces, might I add). Peeta is the one questioning why they should stop rebellion (IN SNOW'S MANSION!). Peeta is the one who drops the baby bomb, making those in the Capitol protest sending an expectant mother into the Hunger Games. Peeta is the one who warns District 13 about the attacks, thus saving them and risking more punishment himself. Peeta does a lot in the series that only Katniss gets full credit for, especially in the movies.
But his biggest rebellious trait is his kindness. Everything stems down to that. From risking a beating to save Katniss when they were kids, to purposely aligning himself with the Careers in their first Games to protect her (Which he almost DIES for). And then giving a lifetime worth of money to Rue and Thresh's families because he wanted to and not asking permission. He just does it. Kindness is so so rare in Panem (and our world, honestly). It does not get the respect it deserves, which is why he is often seen as "weak." But being kind to someone, especially when that someone wants you dead for game, is a thousand times harder than being mad and cruel. This is what makes him stand out to Katniss time and time again. And she does not mince words when it comes to her thoughts. She admires him greatly because of his kindness.
Another one of Peeta's strength is how he can work a crowd and that is extremely powerful. Words hold power, especially in a propaganda war like the one in the series. He can weave a narrative like no one's business. This is how he and Katniss win their first Game, ultimately. That star-crossed-lovers move helped them gain sponsors, even though he was merely stating he has a crush on her. And before someone claims that's manipulative, let's just think about how any of his statements harm anyone but himself. They don't. In fact, KATNISS (and Haymitch) is the manipulative one out of the two--for good reason! She was trying to keep them alive, but she played with his feelings no matter the intentions. She also drugged him, which isn't a great look either.
I'm not even touching upon how having a crush on someone is equivalent to stalking. I don't want to be friends with someone who jumps to that conclusion because it's unhealthy to think that. Unless Peeta is peeping in her window at night and following her every move, (which he's NOT. He AVOIDS her before and after the games) it's not stalking. In fact, he leaves the ball in Katniss' court throughout the entire series. She is always the first to initiate contact with him, seeks him out.
TL;DR: Peeta is important to the series. There would literally be no series without him because he's the moral compass to Katniss' story arc, makes her fully understand that the Capitol plays these games and the districts and tributes are just pieces in it. He is smart, kind, and important.
25 notes - Posted June 25, 2022
#3
My dearest friend, shall my eyes feast on the second chapter of the much anticipated story “The Flock” soon?
Very soon! Some time in October.
Here's a little teaser:
“I have decided Katniss will be dressed in blood red,” Marta announced that night in her cool, leveled tone. “It will act as a symbol of rebirth.” 
Cecily frowned. “Red? For a Binding? That seems a bit…unconventional.” 
“Perhaps,” Marta mused, stirring a bit of cream into her tea, “But Bara and I wish for Peeta’s Binding to be seen as a new dusk for our people. Samuel’s demise lies heavy on all our souls,” she said, her words incongruous with her tone, which did not sound remotely upset about the assassination of her husband’s father. “It is best we continue to remind the Flock that our family is about progress, and innovating what does not work.”  
“This is a Binding,” Cecily sniffed. “Not a political statement, Madame.”
“Ah,” Marta smiled, “but every ceremony is a political statement when you share the blood of the Mockingjay, Lady Axson. It is best to remember what family Katniss is joining.” 
How could Katniss forget? She was reminded of it constantly. 
25 notes - Posted August 31, 2022
#2
Flock Part 2 Teaser
I thought I’d give a little teaser to those interested in part 2 of The Flock. Enjoy! @rosegardeninwinter
“My lord!” Katniss exclaimed, holding onto her veil in fear the stupid thing would fly off in their haste. “What is the hurry?” 
Peeta stopped them and let go of her hand, taking a calming breath in. “Apologies, Miss Axson. I just knew my temperament was not ready for your grandmother, and my mother,” he added to lessen the insult. 
A smile played on her lips. “It is alright if you are not fond of my grandmother, Your Grace,” she mused, not expecting such an honest opinion from him. Everything about the Mellarks felt so calculated, especially as the Binding drew near, that it felt nice seeing her intended express his true thoughts to her. Katniss took a step closer to him. “In fact,” she said in a half conspiratorial whisper, “I am not always fond of her either.” 
There was that smile she liked so much. “Miss Axson,” he said, his voice warm in amusement, “I do not believe I’ve ever heard a woman speak so frank about her guardian. Well,” he laughed, “I suppose I’ve heard plenty from my mother, but never from a lady.” 
“Are you insinuating your mother is not a lady, Your Grace?” 
“I insinuate no such thing,” he said. “And let us stop with such titles. Our souls are to be Bound in two short months and you will be my wife. Call me by my baptismal name.”
30 notes - Posted May 9, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
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Katniss has been Paired beyond her family’s wildest hopes. Her upcoming Binding to the High Priest-Elect is sure to be an event for the tomes of Flock history, particularly if her grandmother has anything to say about it. But the longer the preparations drag on, the more beleaguered the young bride becomes. Peeta Mellark may be handsome and kind, but is that enough to entice her into life as a prudent and pious wife … and with Madame Mellark as her-mother-in-law?
As her impending nuptials loom, Katniss begins to consider her options.
Is she prepared to face their cost?
Religious cult Everlark
Hello all!
Part two is finally here, and only a couple days past the self-imposed deadline! *self-high five*
Wow. So over a year ago, when posting The Flock: The Pairing, I had no idea it would garner the love and support that it has. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your kind words and enthusiasm. Part two would not be here without you all.
And a HUGE thank you to the lovely and wonderful @rosegardeninwinter​ Part two truly wouldn't be done without her encouragement and editing and writing talent.
As always, all mistakes are mine.
I hope you enjoy part two and Katniss' journey to matrimony! And if you have not already, I highly encourage you to start with part one.
Read Part Two: The Veil on Ao3 👰🏽🥀💧🍞
78 notes - Posted November 3, 2022
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pawprinterfanfic · 4 years
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WHEN THE WOLVES COME HOME
a sneak peek of my bellarke / percy jackson & the olympians au fanfiction for @bellarkebigbang
“Clarke,” he breathed, his voice already wrecked. She was staring at him, her eyes dark and her lips parted. It took everything in him to keep his eyes firmly locked on hers and to stop himself from closing the distance between them. “Clarke, listen to me.”
“I’m listening.”
He was momentarily distracted by her lips, and by the way her shallow breaths ghosted along his skin, and the way he could feel her heart pounding against her chest.
Their eyes locked.
“I need you to think really hard on something, okay? Can you do that for me?”
“You called me smart earlier, Bellamy. Where’s that confidence now? Don’t think I can handle it?” She grinned widely at him and his chest tightened.
He almost hated himself for the question he was going to ask - if his hunch was right, then she wouldn’t be smiling this widely afterwards.
“What day is it?”
She inched back from him the slightest bit. The smile instantly wiped from her face. Her gaze grew distant. “I- What? What do you mean?”
Bellamy watched her closely. Her forehead creased. She blinked rapidly a few times.
He took this as a good sign.
“What day is it?” he pressed, his words coming out slower than before. “Really think, okay? What is the date?”
She looked at him in confusion. “Why?”
“Just answer.”
“But-”
“Clarke. Answer.”
She dropped her arms from around his neck and took a few steps away from him. She shook her head, making her hair bounce around her face.
He tried again.
“Clarke. The date. What is it?”
Their eyes locked again. His palms were slick with sweat. His heart was thudding rapidly in his chest.
“July 28th. Right? Or is it July 27th? I- wait. No. It’s the 28th.” She stared at Bellamy for a long moment, studying the way his expression completely fell. “Why?”
Dionysus’ words came back to him. ‘Lotus Hotel is a beacon; the building draws you in and you want to stay. And, you know black holes; time runs differently in them.’
Time ran differently inside the hotel.
His stomach rolled. Dread swept through him.
Clarke placed a hand on his forearm, jarring him from his thoughts. “Bellamy? What is it? What’s-”
His eyes locked onto hers. He couldn’t explain it, but his chest grew tight with emotion and his breath stuttered.
“Clarke,” he said slowly. Bellamy attempted to keep his voice even and calm, which was a nearly impossible task. He was terrified, and angry, and- “Wake up.”
Her lip curled in annoyance. “Rude, much? I am awake. Gods-”
“I mean it.” He stepped closer to her. “Look at me. Look. I need you to focus.”
Clarke scoffed. “What’s your damage? I am up!”
“It isn’t July, Clarke. It’s September. Alright? You get that? September.” The annoyance was slowly melting from her expression, but her eyes weren’t shifting with understanding. “You’ve been in here for longer than you think.”
“That- That’s impossible.”
“It’s possible.” He quickly changed tactics. “You said ‘gods’ earlier. You remember? You-”
“Of course I remember!” she snapped, heatedly. She narrowed her eyes. It was a stark difference from the soft touches and heated glances they were sharing only minutes ago.
“What were you referring to then?” he pressed. “You said ‘gods.’ What did you mean?”
“I don’t know,” she bit, “it’s just a saying.”
Bellamy blew out a steadying breath and tried again. “We both know it isn’t a saying. Listen to me. The Greek gods are real and we live among them. Did you know that?”
He watched as her expression went blank. Her eyes grew glassy.
He kept pressing.
“You’re the granddaughter of one of them. Your father, he was the son of one. He’s a demigod.” Bellamy racked his brain. “Jake. His name is Jake, right? You remember him?”
Clarke was growing pale. Her hands were shaking at her sides. “Dad?”
“Yes, your dad.” He didn’t chase her as she stumbled backwards. He could see she needed air to breathe, space to think, and a wall to clutch to keep upright. “Greek mythology is real - all the stories and the legends and heroes and monsters.”
The more he talked, the more pieces of the puzzle he put together himself.
“This hotel is a trap,” Bellamy explained. “It’s a beacon for the descendants of the gods. It draws us in and keeps us there forever. I should’ve realized before - it’s the home of the lotus-eaters.” It all made sense now. “In ancient times, the lotus-eaters would capture innocent people and keep them prisoner with the use of a lotus flower with apathetic properties.”
“I don’t-” Clarke shook her head. “I don’t understand. What’s happening? What-”
“You’ve been trapped here for months.” He could sense he was almost there - he could tell that she was so close to getting it. He gave one final push. “It’s time to wake up, Clarke. It’s time we go back home.”
im very excited to post this fic in June! the art by @goddess-clarke for this fic is FANTASTIC as well 💜 be sure to check out the event’s page to see more sneak peaks of the awesome work being done for this event!
& LET ME KNOW IF YOUD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST!
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keelywolfe · 4 years
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FIC: The Rose and the Thorn: Chapter 9 (Mafia AU)
Summary: While Rus is off meeting the other employees of Edge's business, Blue has his own business to attend to.
Notes: Oh, how to warn for this. Red is Not a Nice Man, no, and Blue is in way over his pretty little head. Hints of coercive sex? Nothing Mature-rated in this chapter, though.
Tags: Spicyhoney, Cherryberry, Mafia AU, Flower Shop AU, Violence, First Meetings
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8
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Read on AO3
or
Read it here!
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As much as it pained him to watch his brother go, when Papy turned around to look at him Blue waved him impatiently on, painfully ignoring how much that strangely vulnerable glance reminded him of the long-ago first day he’d shooed his little brother into the small schoolhouse back in Snowdin.
What he really wanted was to scoop Papy up like he was still that small child and run, to carry him away from all this. Whatever that chat last night with the younger Fell was about, it confirmed his suspicions that his little brother was in far deeper than he’d hoped, and for the moment, all Blue could do was hope Papy was treading water.
Across the table, Red was watching him and despite that ever-present grin, his expression was unreadable as a blank page. Blue made a show of wiping his face with his napkin and pushing his plate aside. What little he’d eaten was churning uneasily as it incorporated with his magic until nausea threatened. Resolutely, Blue swallowed it down. He’d agreed to this, now he needed to see it through to the end.
“you done?” Red asked with mocking solicitousness.
“Yes,” Blue said. He let his starry eye lights glimmer, his own mocking buried beneath honeyed sweetness as he said, “Thank you so much for the breakfast. It was certainly—” He paused only briefly, then added, “generous of you.”
That razor grin widened, sharp enough to cut through bone, and Blue suspected his true emotions weren’t as buried as he’d hope. “oh, honey,” Red chuckled, “we ain’t even got to generous yet.” He stood up, groaning through a joint-cracking stretch and scratched lewdly at the back of his pelvis. “okay, baby blue, let’s go.”
Red led the way to the door and held it open, bowing exaggeratedly, “after you.”
“I don’t know where we’re going,” Blue protested, hanging back.
Another sharp grin, but the humor crumbled around it, those marrow-red eye lights going hard, “uh huh. go through the fucking door.”
Blue dropped his gaze and went. One of the Dogs who seemed to proliferate this place was waiting and he led the way, Blue nearly trotting along behind him to keep up with Red sauntering along behind him, his bulk filling in any space to retreat. Blue was well accustomed to being the shortest adult person in a room, but never had he felt so small, surrounded by all these Dogs and the sheer presence of Red, of these endless hallways closing in claustrophobically around him. He kept his gaze towards the floor, following the Dog’s flowing tail more than his stride.
The room he was led to was lit with hanging purple lights and filled with short tables topped with shallow plant trays. The rich smell of soil was familiar and for the first time in some while it did nothing to settle Blue’s anxiety, actually increased it. He shivered, feeling sweat breaking out beneath his unwanted new shirt as he covered his mouth briefly with his hand as nausea threatened again.
Red didn’t seem to notice his reluctance. He looked at the room with satisfaction, taking a puff off his smoldering cigar as he said, “not bad for a starter set. got everything you asked for.” He slanted a narrow look at Blue and it was far more appraising than it had been of the planting tables. “now. show me what you got.”
“You shouldn’t smoke in here,” Blue said thinly. “It’s bad for the plants.”
“always something with you, isn’t it, honey,” Red drawled. But he exaggeratedly tamped out his cigar on the bottom of his shoe and tucked it into his jacket pocket.
Blue didn’t dare look at him again, afraid it might come off as gloating. Instead, he stepped further inside, rolling up his sleeves as he inspected the offerings. The tools were all new, stainless steel reflecting violet light, and there was a pair of flower-patterned gloves along with them. Blue slipped them on, wondering sourly if there was a joke in that choice or if it was simply the first gloves whoever purchased all this found.
Squeezing a handful of soil into a moist ball confirmed it was the correct ratio of sand, silt, and clay, with a healthy dollop of manure that he could smell. Exactly what he needed; he could urge the plants to grow but that growth still needed nutrients and sunshine, or in this case grow lights. Blue took a moment to dig an even trench from one end of the tray to the other. Then he took a shaky breath as he chose the last needed element.
The seeds were his own, retrieved from the fire safe secreted away in his room. Not that he expected anyone to break into their home in search of them, but they were invaluable, irreplaceable. He couldn’t chance them being lost.
He poured out a small handful of precious seeds and sprinkled them into the rich soil, carefully covering them.
There was only one step left. Blue held a hand over the soil and closed his eyes, calling up his magic. Urging plants to grow was like a dance and Blue was leading, pulling that growth gently in the direction it needed to go, urging and coaxing those curling green buds through the soil, guiding as they greedily sought out the light above them even as their roots soaked up the delicious nutrients beneath. All down the row the narrow green stems broadened, forking into leaves as the bud formed and swelled, that glimmer of gold bursting out into the familiar pattern of five silky petals.
Blue closed his fist and broke the connection before he pushed them too far into withering, stepping back and panting out, “There.”
The entire tray was filled to overflowing with golden flowers, the color muted beneath the grow lights. It hardly mattered, it wasn’t for their appearance that Blue grew them and as Red stepped forward to poke at one with a broad, cracked finger, his eye lights gleamed greedily.
“not bad, baby blue,” he breathed out, “you got some real talent, dontcha.”
“So I’ve been told,” Blue muttered. He stripped off the gloves and pulled out his handkerchief, dabbing away the sweat dotting his forehead. “What are you planning on doing with them?”
“am i lettin’ you in on all my secrets now, honey,” Red asked, amused. He brushed a hand over the flower heads, sending them bobbling. “can’t imagine why you haven’t been growin’ ‘em all along. hell, even a little weed woulda gotten ya more capital than your pretty posies.”
“Whether or not I wanted to, I couldn’t,” Blue said shortly. “Cannabis isn’t legal for Monsters to grow.” Not that he suspected that would even slow someone like the Fell brothers down, but Blue had his own standards of business, ones that he was currently watching burn away with depressing haste. “Besides, these aren’t a drug, the euphoria is very temporary.”
Red snorted loudly. “all euphoria’s temporary, ’s the best thing about it. see, humies got this thing ‘bout not trusting drugs. but somethin’ homegrown like this? they’ll be all over it, honey, and they’ll bring the bills to pay for it, too, you watch.”
“You really think Humans will like tea better than the flowers?” Blue said doubtfully. Even for most Monsters, Golden Flower tea was something of an acquired taste. Certainly it brought on a sort of blissful relaxation, made all the more potent by Blue’s growing technique, but it was very limited. Even at the finest quality, the faint rush hardly lasted an hour.
“i know so.” Red reached out and tapped Blue’s nasal ridge with one finger, the sharpened tip prickling faintly against the bone. “all it needs ’s a market and that’s my job, honey. all you gotta to do is grow it.”
As if it was that simple. “If I spend all my time growing golden flowers, I won’t have time for my garden.”
“don’t you go worrying about that,” Red said dismissively. He started to walk away, out of the room, as if all this were signed and settled, leaving Blue behind, to what, fill each of these trays and trust it would all work out? Not likely.
“Our deal was you help me keep my shop,” Blue raised his voice, let it echo through the room, “You promised!”
Red stopped, slowly turning back to face him and suddenly Blue wasn’t sure that was what he actually wanted. He strode back and he wasn’t that much taller than Blue, but so much broader, looming over him with invisible height as he said, evenly, “so i did.” There was a folding chair by the table and as Red sat, Blue could only blink at the abrupt reversal in size. “you think i ain’t keeping my side of the bargain, honey? wanna file a complaint?”
“No,” Blue said bluntly, ignoring the desperate flutter of his soul, “what I think is we need to renegotiate terms.”
Red looked at him with hooded sockets. “do ya now.”
“I do.” Blue folded his arms over his chest, the bright material of his shirt muted in the artificial light, shifting it to flowers of a different color. “Things seem to have changed since our first discussion. For example, what is your brother doing to mine?”
The question bothered him, Blue could see it, a banked flicker of heat in those burning eye lights. That sign was the only one, none of his irritation showed in the way he sank down in the chair, spreading his broad legs wide.
“tell ya what, baby blue. you come over here and blow me,” Red cupped a rough hand at the slight bulge of his crotch and squeezed. “and i’ll find out.”
Oh. Blue jerked his gaze away a little too late, his breath coming in panicked little blurts even as his eye lights slid betrayingly back. Not that he would even consider doing such a thing, he would never—but he hadn’t forgotten the brief satisfaction of wiping away that smirk back at the shop.
Did Red actually want…?
There was a faint gleam of sweat on the cracked dome of Red’s skull, the room was warm from the lights, true, but that didn’t explain the slight flush on his cheekbones, the rising glow coming from beneath the crude grip of his hand and those eye lights were so greedily eager, so…so…
Blue lifted his chin and said coolly, “I don’t barter with my body. If you want oral sex from me, you'll need to get it the old-fashioned way.”
There was a mere taste of gratification from the way Red blinked, startled. “how’s that?” Red asked. He sounded reluctantly intrigued.
“By going first.”
As he watched, that smirk shifted into a true grin, savagely amused. Red pounded a fist on the table and laughed. “honey, you are something.” Then he ran his tongue over his teeth, leaving them shining and wet as they tip dipped in between the jagged edges. “all right. come over and spread ‘em, and i’ll show ya what i got.”
For one moment of pure insanity, Blue was honestly tempted; it already felt like he was caught in the swirling vortex of a drain and it would be so, so much easier to simply dive it and give over to the pull. It was the memory of his brother’s face, his uncertain fear this morning that held him back and Blue clung to it, his last bastion of morality as he said, evenly, “No, I don’t think so.”
That smile fell away. “no?”
“You told me yourself you don’t like to mix business and pleasure,” Blue reminded him. “and our business isn’t yet concluded.”
“no, it ain’t, heh.” Red shook his head and stood. “get to work, i’ll stop back later, see how you’re doing. mebbe we’ll chat more about your deal, then.” Before Blue could move, his chin was pinched gently between two sharpened fingers, his face tilted up and Red’s eye lights roved over his face, studying him. It did not escape his notice that gaze lingered over his mouth. The smell of tobacco on Red’s breath was sharp, bitter as he murmured, “i’m gonna look forward to wreckin’ you, baby blue.”
Then he let go and turned away, his boots heavy on the floor as he headed towards the door. Blue waited until Red was nearly to it before he called, “We’ll have to see about that, won’t we.”
Blue only wished he were anywhere near as confident as he sounded.
His own raucous laughter followed Red out the door and when it closed, Blue sank to the floor, covering his face with his hands and wished again that he could simply grab his brother and run, get them both as far away from this place as possible.
Then he wiped his eyes impatiently and stood, reaching again for the gardening gloves. The simple option was no longer available. All he could do now was try to keep up and hope that he could get his brother out mostly unscathed.
If only he knew how scathed Papy already was. That was a question for tonight. For now, Blue had work to do and he started sowing seeds even as he struggled to ignore a different sort of growth, the aching worry take root in his very soul.
tbc
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