#my day: go to work -> come home from work -> create hot vampire man -> go to bed and stare at the ceiling -> maybe fall asleep at 2 am

[venriliz]

Morton.

Medical examiner with a peculiar allergy against plasmafruit.

#my day: go to work -> come home from work -> create hot vampire man -> go to bed and stare at the ceiling -> maybe fall asleep at 2 am #sims 4 cas #ts4 cas #simblr

[keeksandgigz]

Chapter 1: Les Usurpateurs

Part 1 of Words are Futile Devices- A Steddie x Reader Call Me By Your Name AU

Somewhere in Northern Italy, 1983

cw: ~3k words, no smut (yet), EVERYONE IS OF AGE!!!, a lot of unnecessary description for the vibes, reader is a bit of a cunt

notes: I'm back (I think)

Despite the lack of smut in this chapter, this and all my works are 18+ minors do NOT interact

There was something of a quiet intimacy in hearing the summer sparrows in the morning. Nothing but the gentle hum and chirp buried in the ripe peach trees. Thus marking the beginning of your yearly summer stay in Italy, of doing nothing but lounge around and savor the crickets at night, lying down on the couch of the villa your mother had inherited from her great grandparents. 

What you liked about your summers in Italy was that time seemed to go slower, at your leisure, spending it between the lake with your friends, the town just a short bike ride away or staying home buried in the pile of books you had brought over just to keep in your room, a bit overgrown, but unable to make it “too yours” because of the guests you’d have to concede your room to a mere four weeks after your arrival at the villa. 

Every summer, your father would host literature and art history students at the villa, aspiring professors, authors, archeologists, to help with their dissertations. They’d come with their american ways, obnoxiously disturbing the peace that you had created for yourself in the idyllic world you’d surrounded yourself into. Like that was a different astral plane you’d projected into, with the same friends as always, the same views, the same places to go. A different guest you’d have to surrender your room to for ten weeks, while you were banished to the communicating room, divided only by a shared bathroom. A small twin bed, an old desk and chair, a big enough window to let a good amount of light in, so you don’t suffocate and turn into a vampire. You despised that room. 

They always arrived on the first day of July, when the weather seemed to turn from needing a light pair of jeans in the evening  to clothes being unbearable. If you were in your room you’d limit yourself to a long enough shirt to keep you decent for the ghosts in the villa. There were no ghosts, but Giovanna, the housekeeper, would pop in from time to time to drop off your clothes– washed, ironed and folded. They smelled like citrus. 

You were reading The Count of Monte Cristo when the guest arrived. The rippling sounds of the gravel under the heavy tires of the car sounding like an alarm. You placed your book face down on the page you had been reading and ran to the window. Curious to see what the tide had brought this year. Maybe someone whose English wasn’t very good. Or some lunatic who could only stay inside because of his pollen allergy. You wondered what they would have looked like. Tall? Ugly? Obnoxious in the sense where you could hear them play shuffle and slam and bang doors and cabinets and drawers in the morning when getting ready? 

The car came to a stop in front of the door, right under the window of your room. The driver’s door opened, Giuseppe, the groundskeeper of the villa went around to open the trunk. Your heart thumped as you saw the passenger door open. It was a man. He was wearing a pair of white linen shorts, a blue flouncy short sleeve button- up shirt and gold- rimmed glasses. He pushed them up as he placed two hands on his hips, quickly removing one in favor of running his hands through his hair, styled and coiffed like he had not just come off an eight- hour flight. 

“You must be…” You’d heard your father say, placing a finger on his bearded chin, the name of the boy must have slipped him. 

“Steve. Piacere” the boy said, in an Americanized Italian, sounding like he had a hot potato in his mouth. 

“Ah! Steve, Benvenuto” your father said, bidding his welcome and shaking the boy’s hand. Your mother extended a delicate hand as well, introducing herself with a bright smile. At the same time, the opposite passenger door opened. Another boy. 

This one had long, frizzy hair. His face was framed by the bangs that stuck on his forehead. He was wearing a black t- shirt of a band you’d never heard of before tucked inside a pair of cutoff denim shorts held up by a belt, a chain clinking at the boy’s side as he stepped off the car. He wouldn’t let Giuseppe take his bags, insisting he could have done it himself. 

Your father followed the boy with his eyes as he carried what appeared to be a duffel bag and a beat up suitcase towards your father. 

“And this must be Eddie, then” your father said, as Eddie released his suitcase to shake your father’s hand. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you” the boy said, and from this new angle you could see that he sported three chunky rings on his left hand and a chain necklace around his neck. Your father saw you peeking out the window and motioned for you to come down. 

“Shall we go inside? Show you around before dinner?” He motioned towards the boys as Eddie picked his stuff up once again and followed inside. You rolled your eyes. That was your cue to put on some pants and come downstairs. 

Your father’s office was just on the right at the bottom of the stairs, as you hopped down the marble steps. You heard chatter. 

“Oh there she is” you heard your father announce as you leaned against the doorframe of his office. You tended to dislike his theatrics “Boys, this is my daughter” the two guests turned around, reaching their hands to squeeze yours, as you firmly told them your name. 

“Hey, I’m Steve,” he said, fixing his glasses with his other hand. He was soft, but his handshake was firm. Hands bigger than yours. 

“You’re the archeology and history nerd” you quipped, a slight curl of your mouth followed it. 

Steve didn’t seem to like the name, as he let go of your hand, mouth in a straight line. Embarrassed. Put off. You needed them to know that they weren’t welcome here. 

“Hey, what’s up I’m Eddie” the other guy said. His hand was much more rougher and calloused than Steve’s, likely a guitarist. 

“You’re the soon to be failed author?” you tilted your head at him,

 you tilted your head at him, you heard your mother gasp, the indignation dripping from her mouth as she said your name. Eddie chuckled, a bit taken aback, but amused. 

“How do you like daddy’s money, hm?” It was your turn to be indignant. You heard your father snicker behind the boy, followed by Steve. Your hand brusquely retracted from Eddie’s, as your mother poured springs of apologies on your behalf. 

“She’s not like this, usually,” your mother said. Which was a lie. You were always like this. Rude, witty, sour. 

You heard the disappointment in your dad’s tone “Go show them their room” he said, an intimation for you to leave. 

“Make yourselves at home,” he said, before you guided them back upstairs. 

Eddie huffed up the stairs. You didn’t offer to take his bags, as he seemed to not need nor want any help. 

You opened the large pinewood door. 

“You guys are gonna sleep in here. This is my room, but it’s gonna be yours for the rest of your stay. I’m gonna be in the next room over. Unfortunately we’ll have to share a bathroom” You could see sleep calling to them, as their eyes opened and closed slowly at the sight of a made bed. 

Eddie dropped his bags and thumped on the bed, sleep immediately overtaking him. 

“You have to excuse him, this is the first time he’s traveled outside of the States,” Steve said, sitting on the bed, leaning to take his shoes off. 

“Nervous or what?” you asked, examining your bookcase in case you wanted to steal a book to take to your room. 

“Just not as lucky as many” Steve shrugged, laying himself down on the mattress “this is his big shot. If your dad likes his stuff it’s all uphill from here” Steve groans, voice full of sleep “thanks for lending us your room, let us know when dinner is.”

And that was that. The boy fell into the arms of slumber.  

And when Giovanna rang the bell to announce dinnertime, once again you peeled yourself away from The Count of Monte Cristo. You wondered if they were still sleeping. 

You wandered into the bathroom and towards the door as you shot a quick look at the two sleeping bodies on the bed. Eddie was snoring. You were unsure if you should have woken them up. 

You toyed with the bathroom door, swinging it between your hands. A grin decorated your face as you decided to slam it. Steve jumped awake, annoyed and scared. 

“Dinner’s ready” you muttered, reaching for the handle of the door. 

“I’ll pass, thanks” Steve said, shaking Eddie from his almost comatose state. The boy mumbled a semi- discernible “huh?” 

“Dinner, Ed. ‘m not going, but you can feel free to” Steve said to the other, but he just turned around and sleepily muttered an “‘mgood, thanks.”

“He’s good. We’ll apologize to your mother in the morning” Steve said, laying back down, ignoring you completely. 

Where’s my apology? 

You were thankful for the lack of guests at dinner. That way you were able to silently eat and then slither back into your room. Back into your book. Lulled by the crickets, and the whisper of the trees in the weak evening breeze. You ended up falling asleep. 

In the morning, Steve was already outside having breakfast with your parents. He looked like he had showered, but you didn’t recall the faint sound of the water running. He was wearing another pair of shorts, another flouncy shirt. Fumbling with a slice of toast, buttered with jam as he talked to your father about the morning paper. 

“This is gorgeous by the way” Steve admitted, looking around “your orchard?” he looked at your mother, who was smiling proudly at the compliment. 

“We grow a lot of fruit here, Giovanna makes apricot juice fresh every day” she smiled, biting into a slice of bread.

“You had a lot to say yesterday, now you’re a quiet little mouse?” your father teased, elbowing you lightly as you rolled your eyes. 

“It’s okay, she apologized” Steve said, an assuring look in his eyes “she didn’t mean that stuff. She told me, it’s just her welcome wagon” he chuckled, and you felt yourself grow red. Why would he save you like that?

Eddie popped out from the door, hair in a bun, changed out of his shirt in favor for a new one. 

“You should show them around some time, dear. Take them into town, maybe at the lake, I hope your father is not gonna keep them cooped up in his office for ten weeks” your mother giggled. 

“Yeah, no we’d love that. Maybe I’ll get some inspiration for the book” Eddie sat down at the breakfast table, between you and Steve as he fumbled with a soft boiled egg Giovanna had to crack open for him. Embarrassment was veiled on his face. 

You looked at his ringed hands, fumble with the small spoon. Did it always look so small? 

“We’re not gonna start until the beginning of the week, but I might ask you to go get some supplies into town today and take these two with you. Eddie’s gonna need some nice paper for his typewriter, won’t you?” your father gave him a heavy pat on the shoulder, at which he smiled. 

“Have another egg” your mother encouraged the boys. Eddie dug into the pot again, getting more confident with the way he spread the runny yolk on a slice of toast. Some of the runny egg dripped in between his fingers.

Just not as lucky as many.

Steve passed. “I know myself too well, if I have a second, I’ll just have a third and a fourth and a fifth and then I’m just gonna have to get rolled outta here” he joked. I know myself. Self- assured, cocky. You wondered what it felt like to really know yourself, to have everything figured out like he did. 

You lent Steve Giuseppe’s old bike, Eddie got an old one of yours, the squeaky rusted tires alerting the two strangers’ presence. You were afraid you would have been pressured into giving one of them your own bike, seeing as you had already surrendered all of your possessions to them. 

It was a pleasant day. Not too incredibly hot to be embarrassed if the two boys were to see you, face riddled with uncomfortable beads of sweat, breath heaving irregularly from the dry air of July. Instead, a nice breeze came through the mountains, as you debated on going for a swim later in the day. 

That’s what you liked about your summers there. A swimsuit was always the wardrobe of choice under your summer clothes, the freedom to subsist in a plane of existence where your obligations began and ended within the span of a few miles of green grass and honeysuckle flowers. 

The two boys followed you down the graveled road into town, which seemed to be deserted, families abandoning their houses in favor of driving to the beach for the weekend. 

You asked them if they wanted to get a coffee, as you dismounted your bikes and parked them in front of a coffee place. 

You sat outside as you sipped from your espresso cups. 

“So” Steve broke the silence “What does one do around here?” you put down your book, the device you so desperately tried to ignore them with, trying to drown them out. 

“Wait for the summer to end” you mumbled carelessly, going back to the words on the page.

“Ok and then in the winter you wait for the summer to start?” Eddie snickered. 

“Seriously though, what do you do here the whole summer?” Steve interrupted, taking you away from your book again, as you tossed it on the table. 

“I read, mostly. Play music, swim at the lake, go out” you huffed out annoyedly, reaching for the book. Eddie preceded you.

“Kafka? What happened to Monte Cristo?” he flicked through the yellowed pages.

“I finished it. How’d you know I was reading that?” you snatched the book back from his hands. 

“It was on your bed before I slammed onto it. You should read something a bit more substantial,” he said “Kafka isn’t gonna teach you shit, why don’t you read Dorian Grey instead?” it annoyed you how patronizing his tone was. 

“I read that last year, thanks for the help” you retorted, taking the book back from him with a roll of your eyes. 

“Your dad seemed to make it abundantly clear that you need to be nice to us” Steve intervened, whining like a petulant child. 

“Or what? You’ll snitch on me?” you snapped, the two boys looking at each other. 

“Listen, sweetheart,” your nose curled at the nickname, “we’re not your enemies or whatever you think you’ve made us out to be. We really don’t want to be a nuisance to you” nothing about what he said seemed sincere. You rolled your eyes in response.

“Well,” Steve stood up from the metal chair with a violent noise, Eddie following suit “we’ll see you later,” as the both of them mounted their bikes and left. The creaking noises of the rusty old bikes followed in their pedaling. 

They finally got the hint. 

You spent the rest of your day at the lake, not really in a mood to interact with Chiara or Alessandro, two of your longtime friends. Instead, you made the slushing of the water current your friend, staring at the words on the page. Meaningless words. Kafka didn’t seem so enticing after all. 

When you got home it went back on the dusty shelf. Your hand lingered on the spine of Dorian Grey for a moment. The cover was brown and worn, it was your mother’s before it became yours, your heart picked up at the words on the spine, gold lettering. You thought about what Eddie had said earlier. 

You picked up Heart of Darkness instead. 

tagging: @littlexdeaths, @xxbimbobunnyxx, @aphrogeneias, @rowanswriting, @stveharringtn, @impmunson, @strangerstilinski, @lavendermunson, @rebelfell, @bimbobaggins69, @cryingglightningg, @thornsnvultures, @jamdoughnutmagician, @take-everything-you-can, @eddiesxangel, @ali-r3n, @emxxblog, @corrodedcoffincumslut, @str4ngergirlw0rld, @yujyujj, @gregre369, @subconsciouscollapse, @aol19, @cooljadejacksonthings, @maeneedsabreak, @eddiesguitarskills, @freak-of-hawkins, @eddiesghxst

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #eddie munson au #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington au #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fan fiction #call me by your name #call me by your name au

[dontfeeltoohot]

Sicktember Day 15 - Sunburn - Pre-Steddie - Vampire AU

He’s good at avoiding most sunlight. He keeps his jacket when he’s outside, his hair is long and shields most of his face. The bits of skin that do get sun are usually able to withstand the heat and rays for the amount of time he’s out in it, which is minimal. Hawkins is about as sunny as it is overcast or rainy, which definitely works to his advantage. 

Of course, Steve fucking Harrington invites him to a get together at his house, and tells him to bring a swim suit, that he has a pool and they all usually congregate out there and then head in to watch a movie when it gets dark. And of course, Eddie says he’ll be there, because he’s a love sick dumbass. 

All hope that maybe Saturday will be overcast and dreary is dashed when the long haired man watches the sun start to rise at six am. He turns the news on like usual for he and Wayne, and the woman says the high will be 86, and it’ll be sunny all day. Fucking fuck. 

The thing is, it’s not as if sunlight actually burns him like in the movies, it doesn’t. But it makes him feel drained, makes his skin feel uncomfortably hot. His powers start to become fuzzy and weak, and though yes, he technically can go into sunlight, he very much prefers not to. The longest he’s been in the sun was around twenty minutes, and he’d felt ready to pass out, only he physically couldn’t. 

And now….well there’s no turning back, as he waits for someone to invite him into the Harrington’s place. After ringing the doorbell, he waits five seconds and then Steve opens the door, smiling a little. 

“Eddie, hey man, glad you made it. Come on in,” Steve is standing there in just red swim trunks, no shirt on.

Nodding, the twenty year old walks into the house, black backpack; carrying a brand new pair of cheap black swim trunks and an old towel of Wayne’s, slung over his shoulder. Looking around, he notices that the house feels more like a museum than a home, and it makes his non-beating heart ache. 

“Yeah, thanks uh, thanks for inviting me.” 

“Do you have swim shorts? I have extra if you need any,” the nineteen year old assures as they walk through the living room and kitchen. 

“I have some in my bag, but thanks. I’m not…I’m not a big pool guy, usually,” he tries to explain. 

Even without the whole vampire thing, he’s not sure he would have been in many pools growing up anyway, not with a deadbeat dad and a mother who was working more than she was home. Feeling uneasiness start to make a pit in his stomach, he walks outside with the other man, grateful when he notices that at least some parts of Steve’s backyard are shaded. Unfortunately, the pool is right in the middle with no shade anywhere close by. 

God he’s fucked. 

For a bit, he hangs out under the shade closer to Steve’s house than the pool, laughing with Jonathan about California and all the different ‘rules’ they have there. Jonathan finally decides to go into the pool after prompting from Argyle, and he knows there’s no getting out of it now. 

“Eddie, come on!” Robin splashes the water forward as hard as she can, spraying just a small amount onto the long haired man’s legs. “We get your pale, have Steve put sunscreen on you or something.” 

“Let me go change,” he grabs his bag and forces himself to slowly walk inside, keeping up a humans pace until he shuts the back door. 

As he changes, Eddie stares at himself in the mirror of Steve’s downstairs bathroom. He’s pale in a way that’s not sickly but it’s not entirely healthy either. There’s no warmth on his cheeks, no blood in his body to create the capillaries to cause any flush at all. At least, no blood that’s being truly pumped and oxygenated, no blood he’s made himself. The only blood in his body is that of animals he feeds off of. 

Slipping his clothing off, the twenty year old slides into his new swim suit, feeling vaguely uncomfortable. Right, people are waiting. Get it together Munson.The second he steps outside, his skin starts feeling warm. Eddie’s forgotten what exactly it feels like, the sudden sting that settles into skin and starts warming up his entire body. 

“Woah, bro. You’re paler than Jonathan, and that’s like, saying something.” 

Eddie turns to chuckle at Argyle, giving him a half smile. 

“Munson genes, we all got porcelain skin,” he shrugs, brushing hair away from his mouth. 

As he gets in, the water doesn’t help much with how warm his skin feels, but he ignores it in favor of keeping his attention on the others. Robin and Nancy are laughing and Steve is splashing them, while Jonathan and Argyle float contentedly in tubes. Moving to where Steve is, he gives a grin, splashing the man from behind.

“Shit!” 

Laughing, Eddie scrunches his nose up and grins, his oddly long canine teeth exposed. 

“Sorry, King Steve,” he teases playfully.

Suddenly, water splashes him, and from there it’s an all out war. Ten minutes later of chasing around the pool, of splashing and dunking, and everyone; because of course they all joined in, is tired. Eddie leans against the wall of the pool, shifting so sunlight isn’t directly hitting him. He feels oddly exhausted, something he’s not at all accustomed to, and he leans his head back with a thunk to the tile. 

As minutes pass, the long haired man’s skin hurts. It’s no longer just an uncomfortable sensation, but verging on painful. Standing completely, he sighs. 

“I’m going to find some shade,” he announces, thinking he should also grab a beer to make himself look at ease and comfortable with them all. 

Just another thing he has to think about now- eating and drinking. He doesn’t need food, everything tastes bland and identical, but humans eat, and if he didn’t drink something on a hot day like everyone else, people will question him. Getting out, the twenty year old heads to the cooler near the door and pops open a beer can, taking a few sips. He can hear Robin approaching before he knows he actually should. 

“Hey, I’m glad you came,” she smiles genuinely, which makes Eddie smile right back. 

Robin Buckley is an anomaly and he enjoys getting to learn more about her. Sometimes he wants so badly to listen to her thoughts, to know how her brain works, but he doesn’t do that. He’s not going to do that to any of his friends. They trust him, and even if they don’t know he’s doing it, the guilt isn’t something he can deal with. 

“I am too,” his hair drips onto the stone ground. 

“Come lay out with me? You might even get a tan,” she jokes, and Eddie bites his lip. 

“Mm, I’m getting pretty hot, honestly, I don’t kn-“ 

“Please? Nancy’s going to lay out too,” and damn Robin and her fucking earnest face. 

“Fine. Lead the way, m’lady.” 

As he lays baking in the sun, Eddie wonders if the blood he consumed earlier has evaporated from his body. His body feels like concrete as he tries to raise his arm. Not good, this is not good. 

“Hey, uh. I need to…” he swallows, though he’s not sure why, it’s not like he needs to. “I need to go inside, I’m really hot.” 

Both girls look at him, worry clouding their eyes. He must sound bad, because Robin is yelling for Steve, and Eddie isn’t sure he’s ever felt like this, like he wants to sleep, not since turning, at least. Steve’s suddenly right next to him, a hand on his shoulder. It hurts more than it should, the weight pressing against him. 

“Your skin feels ok, so you’re probably not overheated.” 

His skin is usually thirty degrees cooler than an average humans. Fucking shit. 

“I really need to go inside,” Eddie forces himself to sit up. Moving feels like he’s going through molasses, and it makes his head swim. Not. Good. 

Standing, Eddie makes his way into Steve’s house, Robin and Steve following him. He sits a few feet from the door, dropping down to lean against the wall. His shorts are dry now, his hair barely damp, curls wild and frizzy.

“Lemme get you water,” Steve says suddenly, as if remembering from all his life guard training. 

“Are you okay? We can get a cold pack or something, or-“ 

“I’ll be okay…does Steve even own a cold pack?” He keeps his eyes shut, listening as Robin’s heart beats starts to slow from his joke, her breaths evening out.

“I can check,” she laughs. “But doubtful.” 

Steve arrives back with not only a cup of ice water, but a cold, damp washcloth. He moves long hair away and then the fabric touches the back of his neck. Instantly, some of the intense heat dissipates. 

“Thanks. Sorry for uh,” Eddie waves a hand around lazily. “I’m not an outdoors guy, this is just one reason,” he jokes, deciding that self-deprecating humor is a good choice. 

“It’s all good dude, why don’t we order some pizza and we can watch a movie or something.” 

“I’m down for that.” 

It’s how Eddie ends up stretched across Steve’s couch, Robin and Argyle assuring they want the floor while Nancy and Jonathan sit on the other couch. Eddie’s lap is in the ex swim captain's lap, and he has to remind himself to pretend to breathe. When everyone else is asleep hours later, Eddie tries to take everything in, wanting to remember how fun of a day it’s been all things considered, before he silently gets up to go and find an animal to feed on in the woods near Steve’s house. 

#my fic #sicktember #sh #em #rb #nw #ff #st #vampau

[michaelmyersbignaturals]

this won't go anywhere since my blog is still new and no one will probably care but i need to talk my vampire and werewolf lore somehow. it's not fully developed yet but oh my god i can't shut my mouth. i wrote this 2 years ago and my writing has improved since then but these are the basics:

Basically there are four main courts of vampires; one for each direction [north south east west], and there are small "sub-courts" within them [some affiliated with the main ones, some not]. They each have their own form of politics, but sometimes if there is a large event going on [like one of the subcourt lords going batshit insane and trying to cover the sun, so vampires can go out for longer and take over the world yk] they meet up and discuss how to deal with it, do it, and go back to their homes

There are also wars, but they almost never actually do anything territory related, but it does change a lot bc you know it's WAR. there are mostly humans though, and these subcourts are usually small, and the main courts are very far away from human civilization [like the northern one literally being in the middle of the ocean].

And some more about the vampires themselves; they were created by a rogue god, trying to wreak havoc onto the world. The vampires that were around when they were created have either been vanquished, or seclude themselves from others, and so modern vampires don't know much about this god. The main courts mostly forgot about them, but the south didn't. No one in the south did, so the subcourts here are connected to the main court, but only because they're basically a huge cult, and their lord is a cult leader who believes he himself is the creator of all vampires.

Also the lord of the western court is dumb but his decision caused them to be one of the most powerful vampires

So basically what he did was he found a desert in not sunny weather, and chose to make his court live there. A few days after settling there the regular hot, sunny weather came back, and they were super far into the desert so they're just stuck there. But! Since they're immortal, they've developed large, broad wings [either man made or evolutionary] that block out the sun! And they also developed a small resistance to it, so they can be out there for hours, since the sun now only feels like a bad sunburn to them

If they're out for too long they'll still get vanquished though. sad

the way their fangs work is that they have modified canines that act as glorified straws; they suck blood, and these fangs connect to some major arteries that only vampires have that flows through their body, which comes in handy when it comes to our next point;

the sun.

The vampires feed on humans, but in MY universe the sun chooses what to affect, so if you have human blood in your system, you won't be vanquished; so what the vampires do is feed on humans and basically trick the sun. i haven't fully developed the reason the sun doesn't get immediately suspicious, but i would say that it wants to make sure it doesn't make a mistake, so it just allows anyone with human blood to not get vanquished [and animal blood too ofc]. i might develop this more as i write a story based on this lore. i like the celestial bodies being sentient; so let's move on to the moon, and werewolves! the werewolves aren't as developed as the vampires, but i can't wait to think of some interesting ideas for them.

The moon is also a sentient being [like local 58 but equally terrifying] and that causes werewolves!

basically imagine the moon being a living creature that roamed the earth; in any form. wreaking havoc, killing all of the humans the other gods created. the gods decided to banish the moon into space, cursing it into the form of a planetary mass. in order to keep the moon subdued, hunters were assigned to quell it by hunting and giving it blood; but the moon forced them to undergo a painful transformation each time they hunted in it's in its full phase, and so the first werewolves roamed the earth. every few years, when the moon is at its full strength and getting ready to return to the earth, hunters from around the world are chosen to undergo this painful transformation. their forms vary on their strength; more strong and powerful ones were the more anthropomorphic werewolves you see in most media, and the more agile and sneaky ones were basically transformed into wolves. some are just humans with their anatomy squished and stretched, basically wolf shaped humans. others get fur, and basically transform into wolves.

this transformation takes hours. their bones stretch and break, their organs shift and change, their skull changes drastically. this is the most painful experience any human could ever have to experience. hunters start at around 4 in the afternoon, and it ends at 10 at night, where they then rise and begin the hunt. they stay in this form for the rest of the night, and then turn back the next day. the transformation afterwards can be triggered at any time, and becomes less painful the more they do it. some consider it a blessing; others consider it a curse.

because of the vampires dependency on animal and human blood to survive, there is conflict with the two. there will be more development as i write the story.

#ramblings #worldbuilding #vampires #werewolves #just me talking about my lore #its the autism i can't help it! #ive been working on this lore for years now and i don't care if this goes nowhere #i want an archive of it

[invisibleraven]

Julie/Reggie Fics

Please note the ratings, as some fics are rated E for Explicit.

The Power of Vapo-Rub: Julie gets sick and Reggie takes care of her. Rated G, ~1k words Tumblr/AO3

You bring a little bit of colour to the picture: Based on a post about Reggie creating the Sunset Curve banner, and Julie finding it, leading to the two of them creating a new banner for Julie and the Phantoms together. Rated G, ~1.6k words Tumblr/AO3

Come into these arms again and lay your body down: Day two of Wet Hot Phantom Summer: Favourite M/F ship day featuring Vampire Reggie and Human Julie. Rated E, ~1.9k words Tumblr/AO3

I know I’m gonna want to get out of my Levi’s: Day five of Wet Hot Phantom Summer: Rarepair day featuring some Rulie having a dance party that leads to more. Rated E, ~2.2k words Tumblr/AO3

To take away the pain inside (Here he comes): Julie is really enjoying her date with Reggie, that is until he asked her to split a milkshake with him… Rated G, ~1.3k words Tumblr/AO3

The burning hearts alone in the dark: Julie is getting really tired of her tia trying to set her up with guys, so she lies and tells her that she already has boyfriend-Reggie. The problem arises when Victoria demands she bring said boyfriend to her dad’s birthday party. Good thing Reggie was the best friend she could ask for. Rated T, ~15.6k words Tumblr/AO3

For better or for worse (Even if it's just tonight): "You sure you wanna do this?" Reggie asked Julie, both of them giggling as they swayed down the sidewalks of Vegas, her blinding smile the only answer he needed as they entered the chapel. Rated E, ~28.8k words Tumblr/AO3

We're gonna have a good time: It's Julie's birthday, and Reggie has a surprise or two in mind... Rated E, ~1.8k words Tumblr/AO3

When you come, my heart will be waiting: Reggie Peters is starting a new life after getting away from his terrible father and worse ex-fiancé. He didn’t intended to instantly fall for Julie Molina, or for one dance to complicate everything even more. Rated M, ~16.3k words Tumblr/AO3

A handful of hopeful words: It's Valentine's Day and Julie wants to let Reggie know all the different things she loves about him. Rated G, ~3.3k words Tumblr/AO3

I don't need wings to help me fly: A Rulie Princess Diaries AU ficlet Rated T, ~1.8k words, Tumblr/AO3

I'd marry you with paper rings: As Julie and Reggie celebrate their engagement, they discover that this isn't the first marriage for either of them... Rated G, ~1.3k words, Tumblr/AO3

It's centrifugal motion, it's perpetual bliss: A 5+1 of Reggie and Julie's 'first' kisses. Rated G, ~2.5k words Tumblr/AO3

Put A Record On: Julie knows she has to work her way up the corporate ladder, but the work is hard and the days are long. The only reprieve comes from the ancient radio, and the charismatic voice playing all the songs she requests. The voice that she quickly starts to fall for, and the man who calls her angel while playing her every request. Rated T, ~8.4k words Tumblr/AO3

When I was born: When I was born they looked at me and said "What a good boy, what a smart boy, what a strong boy." And when you were born they looked at you and said "What a good girl, what a smart girl, what a pretty girl." The story of Reggie and Julie, told through the lyrics of Barenaked Ladies' 'What a Good Boy' Rated T, ~21.3k words Tumblr/AO3

We're Mint To Be: Reggie's mom notices that he keeps bring home boxes of Girl Scout Cookies, and realizes there must be someone in his second grade class selling them who her son likes enough to keep emptying his piggy bank for. Rated G, ~2.6k words Tumblr/AO3

Inked: Julie and her dad go on a trip to Puerto Rico and Julie comes home with more than just souvenirs. Rated T, ~3.2k words Tumblr/AO3

All at once everything is different: Written for the Year of the OTP challenge prompt: Whenever I look at you… Rated G, ~1.4k words Tumblr/AO3

It's a supernatural delight: Julie's scent changed, and Reggie's been off ever since. What happens when one night when it all finally becomes too much for them both? Rated E, ~3.2k words Tumblr/AO3

When skies are gray: Written for the Year of the OTP challenge prompt: sunshine. Rated T, ~4.5k words Tumblr/AO3

Swell Of Endless Music: Julie has always been fascinated with the human world, and now that she has saved the handsome prince Reggie, she's determined to be a part of it. A Rulie Little Mermaid AU! Rated T, ~16.4k words Tumblr/AO3

Sommes-nous les jouets du destin: Written for the Year of the OTP challenge prompt: Soulmate AU. Rated T, ~5.1k words Tumblr/AO3

Hold my hand and we're halfway there: Written for the Year of the OTP challenge prompt: stars. Rated T, ~8.7 words Tumblr/AO3

No me dejes la lengua atada: Reggie is in danger of failing Spanish, so his teacher assigns him a tutor. Unfortunately, Julie Molina hates his guts. Rated T, ~5.1k words Tumblr/AO3

No water, you're thirsty though: Julie asks Reggie to help her out in the kitchen, and he is more than happy to help, in more ways than one. Rated E, ~2.3k words Tumblr/AO3

It's not the way you look, it's the way that you...: When Reggie texts Julie asking what she wears to bed, she has no idea what to think, or where the conversation will go from there. Rated T, ~2.2k words Tumblr/AO3

But there’s nothing else you’d rather be: Before Reggie makes Julie his mate, there’s a certain question he needs to ask… Rated M, ~2.7k words Tumblr/AO3

Silver-white winters that melt into spring: Written for the Year of the OTP challenge prompt: That’s my favourite thing about you. Rated T, ~1.8k words Tumblr/AO3

exactly what I've been yearning for: Reggie's brain is a little bit noisy and Julie has the best way to make it quiet. Rated E, ~3.4k words Tumblr/AO3

So hold me close honey, say you're forever mine: A couples only event has Julie and Reggie realize their feelings-turns out, they were the last to know. Rated T, ~4.8k words Tumblr/AO3

#my writing #rulie #julie and the phantoms

[sukirichi]

scarlet

“How long has it been? Five hundred years – a thousand?”

“Forever. It’s been forever.”

CONTENT/WARNINGS. vampire! megumi, reincarnation au, somnophilia, blood drinking, smut, murder, suicidal thoughts, angst, war, violence, all the dark themes you can expect from vampire!au such as biting, scratching, slight blood play, character death + UNEDITED. I’ll edit this tomorrow because I really want this to be of good quality but for now yeah, sorry for typos and awkward grammar 

NOTE. thank you so much to vampire nonnie for requesting this, I absolutely LOVED writing this, I think this is my favorite ever work. It’s totally different and a lot more serious than what I usually write too, so thank you!

WC. 13k+

PLAYLIST: I Don’t Wanna Live Forever (Zayn, Taylor Swift) ; Fire on Fire (Sam Smith) ; Dusk Til Dawn (Zayn, Sia) ; My Nocturnal Serenade (Yohio)

“How long has it been? Five hundred years – a thousand?”

“Forever. It’s been forever.”

“Was it worth it? Was I worth the wait?”

“Of course you are. You always will be.”

BLUSH [001.]

The morning market bustled with people, the villagers bumping your shoulders left and right. You tried your best to squeeze through the crowd as you followed your mother. You’d recently come of age, and now you had to come with your mother to retrieve food and supplies while your father hunted and chopped wood for the upcoming winter. 

Your mother pinched the apples of your cheeks whilst she smiled, reminding you that you could meet a nice young man at any moment and you had to look as presentable as ever.

The idea of living out the same fairytale your parents happily created for themselves had you gazing up at your mother in wonder. 

You came from a happy family, with a doting mother and a supportive father who never stopped smiling through the hardships. While your mother was the fire that warmed the hearth of your humble home, your father was the sturdy wood that kept each and everyone steady and strong, and you? You were the light of their lives.

To be able to find a soulmate like that and have a family of your own, you wanted nothing more.

But your mind easily changed when people pushed past you, sending you scowls and profanities when you bunched your skirt up, your tattered boots hitting against the wet mud of the market. Your humble village wasn’t blessed with the warmest weather, but it was fine, since your family brought enough sunshine to your life that you never minded. Until now, that was. 

Your boots were soiled and you were panting as you ran after your mother, her eyes crinkled as she chit-chatted with the vendors. Inside her basket were two fishes, five apples, and a few pinches of herbs that wouldn’t have really satisfied any of you.

In this side of the town, your village received the poorer suffrage of lack of food. Nevertheless, your mother’s smile and glee upon having her basket half-full reminded you that there would be better times. Not wanting to lose her again, you clutched your arm around her bicep, panting for air while she gazed back up at you worriedly.

“Child,” she cooed, cupping your face. “What ever is the matter? What could’ve had you gasping for air this way? Is there something you are running away from?”

“Mother, you are the one I am running after,” you informed her with a laugh, and your mother gasped in surprise.

“My, I am so sorry! I completely forgot that you were still new here! Oh, and your boots—”

“It is fine, mother,” you reassured, your hands coming up besides her cheek this time around to stop her from fretting over your shoes. It was beyond worn out, tattered and mouth almost opening. They had promised to get you a new one for your birthday, but a single pair cost more than a week’s worth of food that you didn’t have the heart to let them do that.

Both your parents were disheartened; they wanted to give you the best, of course, but it didn’t matter to you. 

You understood the notion of wanting to look your absolute best in hopes of catching the eye of a future lover, but the idea didn’t sit entirely well with you if they had to base their attraction on mere physical appearance. Besides, it was called soulmate, was it not? There had to be a connection – a pull, of sorts – between two souls, and not from the perspective of the naked eye.

If you really were to meet your soulmate, they would see right through your skin and deeper than the depth into of your bones, their eyes looking directly onto where everything mattered most – the heart, the soul, the core. 

Your mother’s gaze softened at the sight of you, tucking a stray hair behind your ear as she cooed at how beautiful you were. 

Endlessly, she reminded you that you were the most precious blessing of her life in par with your father, and when your mother doted on you like that, how could you not flush with appreciation, eyes bashful and chest swelling with love?

You were a firm believer people were their most beautiful when they radiated kindness and are capable of unconditional love. After all, what could be more beautiful than a compassionate soul? Undoubtedly, you wanted to love someone like that, a person capable of kindness and strength even in the darkest situations; one who could see beyond the weary boots and dirt-stained old clothing you wore.

It seemed that someone had the same idea in mind for you felt a burning sensation at your face. Eyes flitting over your mother’s head, your breath hitched when you were met with soft, blue eyes that put your village’s stormy sky a shame.

Midnight blue swirling with warmth like hot milk on a rainy day, the feeling of having your lover’s arms wrapped around you and their gentle breaths whispering against your ear – that’s what you felt like when you saw him for the first time.

He stood outside his father’s shop frozen, eyes wide and locked with yours, the amount of scrapped metal suddenly weighing a ton despite his growing muscles.

Unsure of what to do but appreciative of the wondered boy, you shyly ducked your head down, peering up at him under your lashes with the smallest of smiles visible on your face. You raised your hand to wave at him when your mother tugged you away, chattering about getting you a cheesecake despite not having much to afford it, only because she felt something good would happen today.

And your mother was right – she rarely wasn’t, in the first place.

Nearly stumbling over your steps, you turned back to the young man, no longer hesitating before you beamed at him, fingers flickering into a small, delicate wave perfected by young women your age. 

His reaction was immediate – a mad blush to his cheeks, and his body growing rigid at being caught staring at you. 

You didn’t mind though. If anything, you felt giddy, and there was an unmistakeable bounce in your steps all the way back home.

BLUSH [002.]

His name was Fushiguro Megumi. He was the son of your village’s infamous blacksmith, who everyone dubbed as ‘Scarface Toji.’

All kinds of rumours about his father spread around the village, ranging from how he used to be a bloody merchant who worked for the King and lived a life without regards for others. As long as he was given enough coins, Scarface Toji would do anything.

Your parents had pinched your waist the moment you mentioned it to them. Your father shook his head disapprovingly over a cup of fresh milk, reminding you again and again that you shouldn’t believe rumors. Apparently, Scarface Toji was just a widowed man left with a baby son before he could even say goodbye to his wife, and he migrated from another town to here in order to start all over again in hopes of giving a better life for his son than the one he previously lived.

It was hard to believe it at first. Toji was a huge man who always carried multiple weapons, but after learning that he just made them and never wielded them, you eventually believed that the man was harmless. 

Your respect for him only increased when his son came mere days later, his hands trembling in his chest as he requested to have a presence with you, flowers clutched in his chest.

You were at your room that one dewy morning, fluffing and fixing your bed when your mother squealed from the doorway, followed by your father’s light hearted voice telling her to calm down. Not moments later, your mother had clipped ribbons in your hair and flattened down your housedress, the grin on her face unexplainable and slightly terrifying.

The burning question at the back of your head was soon answered when you were met by the same young man you’d smiled at the other day. Fushiguro Megumi, he introduced, and until now, you could still remember the way your heart skipped a beat as he said, May I court you?

Only that time around, your father answered for you.

You were actually flummoxed he didn’t take out his hunting gun – like how he always did when other males requested a presence with you – and patted Megumi’s shoulder instead, asking to accompany him at the back to go chop some wood.

It was unspoken tradition that suitors had to impress the lady’s father first. You were more surprised when Megumi happily agreed, rolling his shoulders back to prepare for the task.

The smile he sent your way was boyish, shy even, but determination and anticipation shone through them, somehow leaving you wanting more than before. You and your mother, too curious as ever, wouldn’t stop giggling as you watched both men chop wood in the back, talking about the most mundane things ever like how Megumi’s father was faring, or how his studies was doing.

Megumi felt at ease enough with your father, the sleeves of his shirt pushed all the way to his elbows while he raised the axe. He was effortless in splitting the wood in two, not a break of sweat evident on his translucent skin.

“My, he’s a strong one!” your mother praised, her body practically thrown all over your body as she watched Megumi do more work while your father chatted his ear off. “Handsome too!”

“Mother!” you scolded, though the embarrassed giggles let her know you weren’t really complaining. She was right, Megumi was strong and definitely handsome; with a chiselled jaw, a pointed nose, striking eyes and arm littered with veins and cuts that he got from early ages of hard work.

Once your mother noticed that they were finishing up, she hastily yanked you back into the kitchen. She fretted more than you did about teaching you how to make the perfect meal; that the best way to reward them for their hard work was through a nice, warm meal.

You were too shy to ever vocalize that you wanted to impress Megumi with your cooking skills. Thankfully, your mother pried no further when you quietly asked her to leave the meal to yourself, already preparing out the ingredients while she picked the best flowers from the front yard to decorate the table with.

When Megumi arrived, his eyes roamed around the humble walls of your home almost as if looking for something.

You stood there at the corner, teeth sunken into your lip while your toes curled inside your slippers. Soon, his gaze landed on yours, his lips breaking out into one of the sweetest smiles – one that was far sweeter than the nectar you sipped from the flowers in your youth.

There was no proper explanation to why you stepped forward, a dip in your brow as you wiped at the beads of sweat that had now accumulated beneath his eyes.

His hair stood up in spikes pointed in different directions. You chuckled when it wouldn’t tame down at each stroke of your finger, and Megumi mimicked the melodious sound pouring from your lips. Too lost in the sensation of having his soft strands running through your hands, you forgot that Megumi was technically still a stranger, and you froze when his touch wrapped around your wrist.

You looked up at him then, an apology right there at the tip of your tongue for invading his privacy when he murmured, “Hi. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

If the sound of his laughter was harmonious before, then his voice could only be compared to honeydew and pastel splatters of the skies clashing in the horizon. Warm, gentle, soothing – you were right, he felt like the embrace of a kind soul in a stormy, cold day.

So you melted, unable to fight back your smile as you leaned closer into his touch.

“Hi.”

BLUSH [003.] 

It was one of those rare days that the sun shone down brightly onto your village. The sun had stopped hiding behind the clouds, extending its fingertips down to graze at the greenery of your home, the light filtered through the thick branches of trees that you were currently hiding at.

You had to muffle your giggle with the back of your hand, eyes darting around to inspect if Megumi was anywhere close to you.

Half a year had passed ever since he courted you, winning not only your heart, but the approval and warm welcome of your parents into your home at the same time. It made sense that he had easily placated himself beside you at all times that Megumi eventually earned a seat at your dining table. Not only was he the loving, gentle soul you had always yearned for, but Megumi understood you in more ways than one.

In fact, it almost felt like you had lived your life with a missing piece of yourself.

Now that you had found him, the both of you showed no signs of wanting to pull away. Shy hand holding had transitioned into sneaky kisses, strong arms pulling you into a corner to kiss you goodbye before he retreated back home, your mind hotwiring as you reminisced his lips over your cheeks over and over again. Funnily enough, it became harder to sleep.

Why would you want to sleep and dream when every waking moment was magical enough?

Just as you tip-toed behind another tree to hide from your lover who hadn’t stopped attacking you with tickles, you stepped on a dry leaf, the crunching sound resonating onto the wide forest.

“Blast,” you muttered to yourself, eyes closed as you awaited the impact.

Just as you’d expected, Megumi came running behind you. Graceful in his movements as ever, you both laughed as Megumi flipped you both over before you could fall, your weight falling on top of his while his back hit the flowery fields.

“Found you, lover,” he teased, his hands curious as they ran up and down your sides. “It’s going to take a lot more than that if you want to run away from me, you know. No matter where you are, no matter how long it takes, I’ll do what it takes to find you and have you in my arms all over again.”

“Silly,” you teased as you leaned close to him, rubbing your noses together that pulled out a boyish laughter from him. “I would never run nor hide from you, my love. Where you are is where I wish to be?”

“Is that so?”

“No doubt it.”

“Then,” he interlaced his fingers with yours, gaze solemn as the sun shifted. The looming trees overhead provided you both privacy and shelter, nothing but small streaks of light caressing both your skins as Megumi’s lips padded over your knuckles, thumbs grazing at your wrists. Nothing could prepare you for what was to come next. You couldn’t tell what would happen, but he’d grown serious, voice low as he announced, “Marry me. I’ll take care and love you for the rest of my life. What else do we have to wait for?”

Your heart drummed in your chest loudly that you could no longer hear his next words.

Whether he said something or not, none of it mattered. For spending those six months with him already felt like a lifetime and you were greedy – you wanted to be with him more, to hold him tighter, and kiss him a little longer. He was right – there was no need to wait.

And you certainly didn’t wait as you yanked him by the collar, your lips meeting in a heated kiss. You could feel each other smile as your arms wrapped around his neck. 

The kiss told him everything you couldn’t put into words. A hundred yes, a thousand I want to be with you for the rest of my life, and a million I love you’s. Megumi released all the love and passion he held for you when he pushed his lips against yours just as intensely, his scent blanketing over you like a veil of comfort.

There was no need to wait.

You and Megumi ran hand-in-hand all the way back to your home, the joyous laughter of the memories of youth and innocent summer romance the only music that era would ever know. Slamming the door open, both chests heaving with air and pinkies looped together, your smile fell off your face when an unfamiliar gentleman faced your way at the sudden intrusion.

He was tall, taller than Megumi and a lot broader. His long, dark hair was pulled back in a slick knot, ears pierced with black earrings that added to the darkness of his aura. His smile was nothing but eerie as his unwelcomed gaze travelled all the way down your form before his eyes darkened to the hand yours was connected with. 

Sat behind him were your parents; even with their heads turned away from you, the grim looks painting their faces was evident.

“Mother? Father?” you stepped closer to Megumi, not missing the way the gentleman’s frown deepened. “May I ask what is the meaning of this? Had I heard we’d be having a visitor, I’d have stayed to welcome him,” turning to the gentleman, your back arched into a deep bow. “Forgive me, Sir, I was direly uninformed of your presence. I do not mean any rudeness. Please forgive me.”

“She is perfect, just as I’ve heard.”

Before any of you could react, the man had stood up. If he was tall before, his stance was terrifyingly imposing now as he looked down at both of you and Megumi. Your lover stiffened beside you before his arms encircled your waist, pressing you flush against him while your palms flattened on his chest.

His accelerated heartbeat matched yours, lips turning dry at the situation.

The man scoffed for a moment upon seeing your comfort for your lover, then he smirked, head lolled to the side as he announced the words that would soon end the ruin of your life.

“Ah, yes, young love. What a magical thing to experience,” In the blink of an eye, he pushed Megumi to the side, your body crashing into this man’s broad chest while he possessively placed a palm over your head. You couldn’t move, eyes wide and mouth dry as your mother began to cry, while your father simply kept his gaze to his feet. Megumi mirrored your stance, hands clenched into fists though he too, made no move. 

There was no telling what would happen next. 

“But that is all in the past now. Fortunately for you, my dear, you’ve wonderfully fulfilled your duty as a child to be your parents’ future. Now come with me, you’ve got some dolling up to do.”

BLUSH [004.] 

They lied to you.

When your parents told you that poverty didn’t mean anything and a family was still a family no matter what happened, they didn’t mean it. It was all a lie.

Memories of being dragged outside your house and thrown into a carriage fancier and more expensive than anything your parents could ever afford even after a lifetime’s work remained burned in your head like a searing memory. You couldn’t remember how your parents reacted at your disposal; you couldn’t even look at them, the betrayal sitting hard and square right at your face.

But he remained at the back of your mind.

You had only been so young then, hopelessly in love, and you still are, you very much are. You closed your eyes as you fought back the tears that threatened to spill when you replayed the image of Megumi running after the carriage while you cried out for him, begging for him to save you. Your new husband had only snickered to himself then, well-aware your lover could never catch up.

Soon, Megumi grew tired, the dark patches of mud so familiar to you from your village transforming into wide greenery that led to bridges crossed to another town that would eventually lead you into the castle.

Suguro Geto, a man twice your age, barely had to lift a finger when he decided to buy you as his wife. 

He was a higher ranking official under the King’s command himself. Wealth, power, luxury – he had them all, and he could and did provide everything you needed with just a simple request. 

You supposed you should feel thankful. Days of sleeping with an empty stomach and a parched throat was nothing but a distant memory now, your skin soothed with only the finest silk and people bowing the moment you walked through the door. Gone was the poor girl from the countryside who wrestled with pigs once in her life when you’d accidentally dropped a slice of bread in the pig pen – only a refined, intelligent, and extremely obedient wife of Sir Geto was in place.

Or at least, that was how it was supposed to be.

Geto, despite his tyrannical personality and no hesitance when it came to abusing what he was capable of, was extremely disinterested in you. It was no secret – to both you and the servants – that he brought women around all the time. Even after years of marriage, not once had he laid a finger on you, opting to buy a bigger bed instead to keep the space between you both.

You were perfect for him; you were everything he wanted.

A woman who did everything he asked, a lady who smiled and chatted exuberantly when needed, both beauty, brain, and elegance combined into one, but most of all, you did not want him. And that was why Suguru treasured you above all, for you were the one who prevented him from being tied down to even worse women who were obsessive with him. In payment to your silence and submission, he provided you with all the comfort and luxury you could ever ask for. 

Though you never did ask for anything.

Your only wish was to return home – but you dared not utter these desires for you knew it was as far away as a distant galaxy. Nothing but emptiness and dread accompanied you with each passing day, the image of Megumi soon faltering into your memories.

You’d lost count of the times you cried yourself to sleep while Geto laid beside you, his palms pressed into his ears while your sobs coated his velvet walls until the sun rose. If it were not for the cream spread all over your skin, people could easily see that you were a restless, broken wife instead of a happy one like you pretended to be; that your soul withered with each second.

There was no more hope, no light, no love present in the large, empty hallways of your manor. 

Suguru was out for the night, probably lurking underground casinos fucking whoever whore was desperate enough to warm his cock for the night. Your servants had long retired to their quarters, and with nothing much else left to do, you left your room, the nightgown barely wrapped around your shoulders as you padded to the garden barefoot.

The grass was a lot softer here in his manor than it ever was back at home. Home – wherever that was. You couldn’t find your way back to it.

Everything here seemed tens of thousand times better than anything, and yet it felt so empty. Hollow. Dark. Meaningless. Even as you perched yourself upon the swing, feet kicking into the ground until you soared high enough that the moonlight caressed your skin, you found no beauty in everything.

Everything you once treasured faded into the night.

A rustling sound made you plant your heels flat on the ground, eyes narrowed at the source of the sound. The bushes behind you stilled, and you sat up from your seat, hands coming up to tug your gown back to your body as if it would protect you. “Who’s there?” you demanded, “You are not allowed to trespass the Geto Manor or else—”

Your words were swallowed right back when the figure appeared from behind the bushes. Even after years, you would still be able to recognize that face anywhere. The untamed hair, the flat lips, those eyes that had always reminded you of the skies you’ve grown tired staring at – your feet moved faster before your mind could comprehend it.

Megumi barely staggered as he caught you in his arms, your cries muffled by the collar of his shirt. Your heart tore into pieces and healed right back when Megumi buried his face into the crook of your neck, muttering I’m sorry over your skin over and over again.

“I’m sorry,” Megumi’s voice cracked, “I’m so sorry it took me so long to get here. I am sorry I couldn’t run after you. I am sorry I didn’t—”

You silenced him with a kiss, your hands trembling as you cupped his cheeks. Too long, it had been too long, and your hands were everywhere. On his hair, at the nape of his neck, grabbing at his shirt to pull him closer – you ravaged him with your lips and hands that a string of saliva threaded between your mouths when you gasped for air, only to kiss him harder the second time around.

Megumi’s hand came up to clutch at your bottoms, his body now firmer and bigger than the last time you remembered. He smelled like home, felt like heaven, tasted like bliss and the saltiness of your tears mixed in with his delectable self.

“I love you,” you declared, the sobs wracking through your chest before your head fell on his shoulder. Megumi doesn’t stop you when you fisted his shirt, his hands only patting your back as you hiccupped, the tears now drenching his shirt. “I love you, I love you, please, my love, run away with me, let’s live somewhere else, okay?” You cupped his cheeks, your thumbs swiping away at the tears that had also stained his pretty face.

Megumi nodded, not wasting another second when the both of you treaded through a very thin line by kissing you all over again, his lips flushed with yours.

There was no need for air. The only thing you needed at this moment was to have him beside you, and just as Megumi pulled away to tell you he’d do anything for you, blood spilled past his lips. You watched as the red liquid splattered from his lips and dripped down your chest, and that’s when you felt the piercing pain through your chest.

Megumi dropped you, your body colliding on the ground with a loud thud. Your chest bled from a shallow cut, though that was the last thing you paid attention to when Geto stood behind your lover, red eyes shining through the brilliant night and long fangs sinking down his chest.

Your screams were muffled with Geto’s palm as he showed up right in front of you in a flash, his cold touch sending shivers down your spine. 

He forced you to watch as your lover fell in front of you, a sword poking through his chest. You struggled against your husband’s hold, but he was far stronger and bigger than you that you fell limp into his chest. Geto barely blinked an eye as your nails sank down to his skin hard enough to draw blood from his pale skin.

“Watch, darling,” he purred into your ear, “You wanted to be with your lover forever, right? Then let me grant you wish – I’ll give you the forever you always wanted.”

“Why are you doing this?!” you bit back through the palm covering your mouth, vision blurred as tears coated your face. “I did everything for you! I did everything you asked me too – you didn’t have to kill him, he was the only one that mattered to me, how dare you?!”

“No reason, darling,” Geto pushed you off his lap before tugging Megumi’s shirt, revealing his lifeless and bloodied face staring right at you. “I was simply…drunk, you could say. I was not pleased to find my wife locking lips with another man.”

“I was never yours,” you spat out, hands dug deep to the earth underneath you.

“No, you’re not. Your heart was always owned by another, was it not?” Geto tipped his head as he watched Megumi’s lifeless form crumble back to life, a guttural groan echoing through his throat. Your eyes widened when his head snapped upwards, striking blood red eyes that resembled Geto’s glowing under the moonlight. You crawled backwards until your back hit the three, unable to recognize the man in front of you. Geto stands to the side, his long and sharp tongue darting out to lick at his lips. “Young ones are always the most dangerous. I cannot wait to see how this one goes.”

“Megumi!”

“Thirsty, are you not?” Geto taunted. At the sound of his voice, Megumi leapt to him with dark claws extended. A scream ripped from your lips, one that was immediately silenced when Geto effortlessly wrapped a hand around Megumi’s neck, choking him until his limbs flailed helpessly in the air.

“Ah, ah, ah, I won’t suggest drinking my blood. You would find it repulsive,” A sickening snap resonated in your ears as Geto broke Megumi’s arm to turn him your way, fangs bared and animalistic growls making your lover seem unrecognizable. You sat there, frozen and panting. Why couldn’t you move? “Your human lover is right there, though. Go on, take a look,” he whispered in the younger man’s ear, his red eyes glinting with amusement. “See her luscious skin? Hear the rapid heartbeat pulsing at the juncture of her neck, begging you to ravish her? That is what you’ve always wanted, right? To claim your woman as yours?”

Megumi’s fierce growl was enough to make you bury yourself harder in the tree trunk, the tears streaming freely down your face before Geto released his hold on him. “If it makes you feel better, I never touched her. She is all yours for the taking. Now, drink.”

At his command, something snapped in Megumi.

All hell broke loose. The last thing you saw was a beam of crimson eyes paired with a red flush to his face maniacal with thirst. His name came out in a broken cry, Megumi’s claws ripping away at your clothes until his fangs sank down into your skin.

Your legs kicked out beneath you as you gasped for air. From behind Megumi, Geto crossed his arms to himself, soon disappearing into the night.

Megumi kept gasping and growling as he drank from you harder. The grip on his hair eventually faltered until your hand fell on the ground, his eager tongue lapping at what else dripped from the holes he’d punctured at your neck. He doesn’t let up once, hands coming up to crush your windpipe until your bones cracked at one clench of his muscles, merely a reminder of what he could now be capable of.

Was this death? you wondered before black completely clouded your vision, you were not ready for it.

ROSE [005.]

Megumi hunched over his seat, his hands making quick work of jotting down tiny details of the modern life in his notebook. It had been two hundred years since he last saw you, and the world had drastically changed ever since.

It wasn’t easy getting over your death – especially not when he snapped back into consciousness, the painful reminder that you had died from his hands haunting him in his sleep.

Not that he ever had much sleep to begin with since he was always tired and restless, his skin hollow and pale, with dark circles finding home under his metallic blue eyes that had lost their previous warmth. After years of trying to learn how to control himself through isolation in the mountains, Megumi eventually wandered back down to the city, surprised that time had flew by so fast and your old village was now unrecognizable.

People wore lavish clothing and had parasols made out of lace, making his throat dry up at the thought that lace back then cost way too much than he could ever afford.

Too much had changed indeed. So much time had passed that Megumi’s previous anger and hatred to himself had now been filled with nothing but a lingering, empty feeling that gnawed at him. No matter how much he tried to blend in with society and keep his true form a secret, nothing ever really took away the fact that he was a monster that could hurt anyone if he even lost the slightest best of control.

He didn’t even know the name of the man – no, the creature – who made him this way.

Megumi sighed as he snapped his notebook shut, conversing freely with this human friend he made. They were ‘of the same age’ as Megumi introduced. Itadori Yuuji wasn’t top of the food chain, per se, which is exactly just what Megumi wanted since the last thing he wanted was unnecessary attention. Right now, he accompanied his friend – the only person he could care about – as he got his suit fitted. Yuuji stared at his reflection endlessly, tapping at his bottoms with a thoughtful hum.

Just then, something familiar wafted into Megumi’s senses. At first, he thought it was the scent of the soap he used, but this was too…different – he was sure he’d caught whiff of it before, but he was beyond a hundred years old that it was impossible to pinpoint what it was.

His eyes fluttered outside the shop as he looked for the source of the smell. It was soft, leaving behind a lingering flutter of his chest, and before Megumi could realize it, he’d already shot up from his seat, captivated by the sound of laughter and giggles across the street. Then, he saw you. You were right there, head thrown back in laughter as you chatted with your friends, lips painted a flushed red that only broadened at something your friend had said.

“Fushiguro – where are you going?”

“My apologies, friend. I’m afraid there is somewhere I have to be,” Quickly, he stashed his notebook inside the front of his coat jacket, pushing past against the crowd and crossing the street. The closer he got, the more he recognized your laughter, your features sharpening into a crystal resemblance of the person he’d lost years ago.

He couldn’t believe it, could barely stop himself when you walked away, his hand naturally falling to grasp at your wrist.  

“Excuse me, Miss. I—” Megumi was stunned when you turned to him, your smile polite and bright as ever, not the least bothered that he pulled you out of nowhere.

“Yes? Is there something I can help you with?”

“I…I just thought I’ve seen you somewhere before. I’m sorry if that came out weird,” not wanting to be rude (your friends were glaring suspiciously at him), Megumi retracted his hands by his sides, gaze planted to his feet as it was considered impolite to hold such eye contact with the opposite sex – especially to a stranger. He could feel himself grow warmer despite his lack of body heat inside his heat, your mere presence prompting his undead hear to beat once more. It made Megumi step backwards, throat falling dry. “Uhm, I suppose I should turn back—”

“Would it be odd if I said I felt the same way?”

His head whipped up to yours so fast that it looked comical, and he was blessed by your amused smile. “What?”

“You feel familiar, and I wish to understand why,” At this point, the sound of his heartbeat that had long been forgotten drummed loudly in his ears, so much so that he could barely hear your words anymore. He had to stare at the way your lips moved, hypnotized at the same time as he tried to fathom what you said. “Would you like to have lunch this Friday? Perhaps we could…familiarize ourselves with one another more.”

It had been a long and painful two hundred years – but you were here – that Megumi would be insane to say no.

ROSE [006.]

Megumi made sure to be silent as he slammed the door shut, not wanting to wake his lovely wife who’d long retired to bed after a long day of work. The eminent darkness in your home told stories of how late it was this time of the night, nothing but silence and the faint cricketing of insects heard in the dead night.

Upon seeing you on the bed, soft breaths spilling from those lips he could never get enough of ravishing, his shirt doing a terrible job at keeping you modest, Megumi’s jaw clenched.

Tugging his tie off and discarding his jacket to the ground, Megumi made quick work of spreading your legs open, his breath caught in his throat because his naught wife decided not to wear anything. His fangs bared on instinct, the tent in his pants growing.

You were always tempting him – and despite being a fearsome creature, Megumi was always weak to resist your teasing.

Glancing at your peaceful face, Megumi bunched your shirt up above your breasts, your nipples hardening at his cold touch. Megumi sighed, not wasting another minute before his tongue dove into your awaiting lips that had already bloomed open, always so ready to welcome your husband’s eager tongue even in your sleep. He groaned at your arousal mixing with the tangy taste of tonight’s dinner.

Soft sighs could be heard above from you when Megumi licked a flat line from your hole all the way up to your clit, his hands kneading at the soft flesh of your thighs before he sucked generously at the pearl hidden by your hood.

You quivered in response as Megumi’s tongue finally entered your drenched core, his tongue teasing and expertly licking at the bumpy ridges of your walls. It gave him great pleasure to see his not-so-innocent wife trembling upon his hold, that even in your sleep, you were so responsive to him. Your reactions stirred him to plunge his tongue deeper into your hole that would normally be so filled to the brim with his cock, not stopping until you fisted at the sheets, cumming on his tongue.

Megumi drank at your juices like it was a thirsty man, making him chuckle a bit because he was always thirsty – both for you and the life that throbbed in your veins.

Kissing the inside of your thighs, your head fell to the side, unaware that the sheets were now stained with your arousal. Megumi hoisted himself up to press a kiss on your lips, his other hand gripping at his hardness before he slid himself in, low groans emitting from his lips when your warmth finally engulfed him.

He was at home.

He had both arms planted beside your head as he kept panting at your ear, his thrusts slow and passionate in order not to rouse you from your sleep. He knows how tired you are and he wanted his pretty wife to get all the rest she needed, but it was getting harder with each passing moment when you clenched around him, pupils blown wide the moment his nails dug into your hips.

“I am sorry to wake you, my wife,” Megumi apologized while littering kisses all over your skin, your moans now uncontrolled and breathy now that you were completely aware to receive the pleasure he was eagerly giving you. “I couldn’t help it – not when you are so heavenly laid out for me like this.”

“Mmh, take me as you wish, my love,” you groaned around him, your arms finding home around his neck as you pulled him closer. One of your legs was placed around his waist, the other knee pinned flat on the ground so Megumi could fuck into you deeper, turning you into nothing but a whining mess. “You know you can always have me whenever and however you want. If it’s you, I would never mind,” Megumi pulled his head away from your neck to gaze into your eyes instead, glowing red orbs meeting yours while his hips snapped harder. You would’ve smiled had it not been for his dark circles turning at least two shades darker, his skin gray and a little flake.

“You are pale. Have you not been feeding properly again?” Megumi intentionally ignored you, and you knew he was trying to distract you by thrusting harder into you, having never liked you to remind him of what he was. It worked for a moment, nails scratching down his back, but you cupped his cheeks you’re your warm palms, holding him tense enough that he was forced to look at you. “Megumi. Megumi, look at me – have you not been drinking well?”

“You know I refuse to.”

“You need it. At this pace you’re going at, you’re going to – ah – you might get sick and weaken, my love.”

Megumi shook his head indignantly, “I would never sink my fangs down a breathing human’s body. I refuse to give in to the demon they have made out of me.”

Your eyes softened at how those blood red eyes faltered, his fears showing through the moment his thrusts grew slower, his touch gentle against your hip. It almost felt like he was making love to you, and you gasped when his cock hit your most sensitive spot, your walls clenching and gripping around him like a vice. “You are no monster,” you told him, “Your heart is warmer and kinder than any other beating hearts I’ve come across with. You are a good person, Megumi, giving into to your hunger does not make you a demon,” when hesitance still crossed his face, you pulled him in to see the sincerity in your gaze, passionate enough to make him stutter his hips inside you. “It would be a lie if you call yourself such an atrocity when you are nothing but tender and loving when it comes to someone as fragile as I am compared to your grace.”

“I do not want to hurt you.”

“You could never, my love,” you assured him, baring your neck to him. Megumi’s eyes zeroed in on the rapid pulse visible at your tender skin, the sight enough to make his cock twitch. “Now, drink.” At your words, Megumi froze. He’d heard that same phrase before – right before he killed you by drinking you dry, and Megumi scrambled away from your hold with fear written all over his face.

Not again, not again, no, he wouldn’t hurt you – Megumi never got the chance to leave when you shushed him with a kiss, ankle buried in his back to keep him inside you. “Please, my love, let me make you feel good. I no longer wish to see you this way. Drink my blood – do it for me.”

That was enough to push him over the edge. Sending one last questioning look your way, to which you responded with a nod, eyes hazy with desire, Megumi punctured your skin. 

You cried out from the pain that added to the pleasure, and with Megumi rutting his hips fast and hard into your abused cunt that was still sensitive from your previous orgasm, your husband brought you over the edge. He came not long afterwards, spilling his seed deep inside you – one you were both not worried about since he could never impregnate you.

Megumi doesn’t stop from lapping at your wound, pulling his cock out before his lips swooped down to your breasts, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

You were both breathing hard, Megumi trying to calm down the tremors of your body from the orgasm while sucking your tits, his hand caressing the other one to not leave it unattended. Hands coming up to card through his fingers, you kissed the shell of his ear, your sweat bodies desperately clinging around one another. “Megumi,” you mumbled sleepily, “Turn me.”

Megumi stilled above you. In a split second, your husband was off you, standing at the edge of the bed with all his muscles rigid and tense, eyes blaringly red as he hissed, “What did you say?”

“Have you not thought about it?” you winced as you sat up, the discomfort apparent upon feeling both your cum drip down your ass to your cheeks. “How you will remain the same after all these years, and I will die and wither like a wilted flower? I do not wish to part from you, Megumi. That was the vow we took in our wedding – that you’d be with me my whole life.”

“Until death do us part,” he reminded you, pointing at the wedding band that adorned both your fingers. “That was the vow.”

“So you won’t turn me?” you scoffed in disbelief.

“No. You only say this because you are blinded with love, but you will soon come to regret it once you become like me. A creature of the night, fearful of the light, taking life from others to preserve yours and unable to provide warmth to my beloved – why would you ever want to be like me?”

“Because it’s the only way I can be with you.”

“Are we not enough the way we are now?” Megumi ran his hands through his hair as he sat back down, his extended claws hastily pointing at the both of you. Even through the dim lights, you could see how his face had darkened. “I am happy, you are happy. We both love each other – what else could you want?”

You gritted your teeth at his words, picking up the pillow beside you before throwing it at him. “Stop being selfish!” you exclaimed, your husband’s eyes flushing a deep shade of rose when he glared at you. “Think about me! A few years from now, my body and face will sag to the point I am unrecognizable. I will no longer be beautiful in your eyes and soon I’ll even lose the strength to cross from our chambers to the washroom. Soon, I’ll be nothing but a drained human because we are weak, and what do you do? You’re just going to watch it all. You will let me get sick and die just because you refuse to live longer with me?” you repeated his words with a scoff, tears stinging your eyes when your voice dropped a tone lower, your arms wrapped around your chest as you rocked side to side. “Do you even love me?”

“Do not dare assume I do not. I waited for you for two hundred years.”

“That is exactly my point, you no longer need to wait for me if you’d just turn me!” you bit back, full on crying at this point with little to no regard that you would wake the whole neighborhood with your discord. “I want to be with you, Megumi, forever. I’ve lost you once and you lost me too, why would you want to put us both through that pain again?”

“Because the pain of losing you will never amount to the misery you would feel once you see that this is not a glorified life,” his gaze softened, his claws retracting until his hands reverted back into its normal ones. From where you sat, you could see your husband falter little by little, his tone turning tender. “I would rather see you die and lose you again than hate yourself because of what I’ve done, even if it was to fulfill your wishes.”

Silence coated the room. Only your heartbeat and his raspy breaths were the only things audible, and when you spoke, the sound of your heart shattering followed. “You would rather see me die? You would rather watch me slip away from your grasp?”

“Yes.”

The fact that he held no hesitance in them just told you everything you needed to know. You turned away from your husband, laughing bitterly. “That makes everything clear then,” you stood up and walked past him, not bothering to cover yourself up as you trudged to the washroom. “I guess I will just continue to please you until my human days are over. Not that it would bother you though, am I correct? You could always satisfy yourself with another body while I slumber for a few more years.”

“You will hate yourself if I turn you.”

“You not need worry about that, husband,” you told him, coming out of the room with a fresh towel and cleaned legs. Megumi still hadn’t moved a muscle from where he stood, his eyes now a longing shade of blue when you burrowed under the covers, back turned away from him. “I already hate you a lot more than I could ever feel for myself.”

ROSE [007.]

Your human body was weak. You get sick and Megumi refuses to heal you, and you died in despair that he didn’t even care about you. A plague had hit your city, and you fell victim to it. After months of being isolated in your quarters until you could no longer taste food or have enough energy to even drink a sip of water, you knew you had to accept your fate.

Megumi stood beside your bed, your hand almost as cold as his when he held it tenderly, regret pooling in his eyes at his refusal to heal you. You were still so young, so fragile – yet he could never bring himself to do it, even if it was your dying wish.

“Will you really not let me live a few more years with you, my love?”

“I am sorry,” he cried out, finally breaking down despite his insistence to stay strong and stoic for the both of you. If you had enough strength, you would’ve cried too; it was the first time you’ve seen Megumi lose himself this way, and he kept sobbing into the crooks of your palm, breaths stuttered and words broken. “I truly am. I cannot do it. Forgive me – forgive me.”

“Don’t cry,” you soothed weakly, thumbs brushing his tears away. “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to heal, my love. I’m sorry I can’t stay any longer.”

“I’m going to miss you,” he shook his head desperately, lips pressed against the weak heartbeat from your wrists as if that would magically heal you back to life. His words broke you a lot further because you both knew that maybe this is where you would end, and you couldn’t even spend that much time with him. A few months of marriage in comparison to the years he waited for you was simply unfair. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I will miss you too,” you rasped out, “I hope in the next life we meet, I’ll get to stay with you a little longer,” Your breath wracked as your chest tightened, the virus making its way all voer your body and depleting you of everything you once had.

Though young still, your cheeks had hollowed, the light leaving your eyes as your lips flattened into a thin line.

You were inherently frail next to Megumi’s unwavering health and strength, and your smile was weak – forlorn – as you gazed up at him for the last time, trying to print his features deep into your soul.

“It feels like the world is always against us, don’t you think? If so, then maybe you and I are not meant to be as we thought.”

Megumi kept kissing your hands, kissing your tears away until you said your final goodbyes, your hand falling from his onto his lap. You couldn’t stay long enough to hear him pour his love out for you the same way he stood under the pouring rain, watching as the rose placed upon your tomb he likened you with wilt and wither.

Why was it that he could never be good to you?

First, he had caused your death, and now, he couldn’t even give you a proper one. You lived an unfulfilled life. There were still so many things you wanted to do, a multitude of places you wanted to go, and you wanted nothing more than to spend a little longer with him. Even as he walked away from your grave with his dying for what seemed like the hundredth time, Megumi still couldn’t find an answer when he asked himself, should he have fulfilled your wish?

CRIMSON [008.]

Along with arising modern human civilization and technological advancements, war was bound to come. People clashed with one another until humanity was abandoned, moral beliefs thrown to the side in replacement of exerting dominance over one another.

In a way, it soothed Megumi to know maybe he wasn’t the only one who’d completely lost touch to everything he once cared about; a little comforting that people had turned to monsters as well. But this thought vanished into thin air the moment gun powder and explosions covered the once blue sky, smoke choking the fresh air people once breathed and the battlefield painted red.

Megumi watched his comrades die one by one. He’d grown tired of hearing their last wishes and he cursed at his nature, because why couldn’t he just die?

He’d taken a hundred bullets and a thousand more beatings, yet he remained his stance, pushing through the enemy’s front line like a beast. At least here, he could unleash the monster he’d tried so hard to conceal. Even if he wasn’t entirely sure what exactly he was fighting for, Megumi had enough anger to overwhelm the opponent with his presence alone.

Blood splattered to his mouth, fuelling him to keep fighting and running, slashing at everyone’s throats with a flick of his sword, the growl leaving his chest entirely animalistic.

He should’ve focused more on his task instead of being blinded by rage.

Too lost in wanting to avenge his comrades, Megumi’s sharp senses failed to hear the oncoming grenade thrown his way. His eyes widened a fraction before he was thrown away, his ribs breaking and his skin splitting apart from the impact. Megumi choked out blood; he should’ve fed properly before he got drafted in the military, but he refused, denied his needs and drank animal blood to tame himself instead.

His self-righteous need to rebuff his true nature backfired, biting him on the ass this time around. He was half unconscious when he was lifted by the rest of his commanders who’d thrown him in the medical tents before taking off to war once more.

Megumi’s vision blurred. Everyone around him paced back and forth to tend to the other soldiers lucky enough to have been brought here for a second chance at life, their voices muffled and turning into nonsense. Megumi chuckled bitterly, which he shouldn’t have done because it made him cough up a lot more blood, but could he help it? He didn’t want a second chance at life. He had never seen you again, not even a whiff of your scent, and his heart and soul had reached a point beyond decomposition that he wished to have died on the battlefield instead.

His attention was diverted when warm hands that smelled like rubbing alchohol patted his face, a harsh beam of light shone down his eyes. He winced at the light before the object was taken away, worried eyes peering down at him instead.

Megumi’s gasp was frail, too weak to manage a proper greeting because the sounds of gunshots, explosions, and final screams surrounded both of you and it was the worst setting to find you in but he was relieved – beyond relieved to see that you were there, fixing him up and muttering something he couldn’t understand. You were adorned in the healer’s uniform, your touch nothing but gentle despite the sting of ointments on his wound.

He couldn’t believe it.

“Y-you,” he managed through splatters of coughed out blood, “I found you again.”

“Soldier, focus on me! You cannot die us on now, we are relying on you to save the world, do you understand?” you snapped at him, moving back and forth at such speed that put his supernatural abilities to shame. “Do not forget your duty. Think of your family, your friends, everyone you cared about waiting for you back at home while you fight honorably in this war,” you declared, the cold scissors cutting through his uniform somewhat distracting him from the sound of your voice. “You must think of them.”

“I don’t have anyone else,” Slowly, his consciousness slipped away from his fingers no matter how hard he tried, and he sighed when your furrowed brows became a lot blurrier and unfocussed. At least you were here, he reminded himself, a small smile on his face as he did so. “Everyone I’ve ever cared about is in here in this room with me right now.”

“Live, soldier,” you commanded, teeth snapping the thread as you hastily sewed him back up. He didn’t need it, but you didn’t know that, and he actually quite liked you fretting over him like this. “Live for the future, fight to live – live for me.”

Megumi had fallen unconscious, but your words planted itself deep at the back of his head. Your words were enough to revive him back to life hours later, and he scrambled at the edge of his seat, calling for your name and searching for you with frantic eyes. Living for you was something he could fulfill, so where were you?

Before he could glance at you one more time, you had already disappeared, and Megumi was shoved back into the battlefield.

SCARLET [009.]

The forest was dark and eerie as you ran through it, the pads of your feet chafed from tireless running and hands still sore from the burn. Countless women were forcefully ripped away from homes in your village at the assumptions anyone who didn’t dare bow down to the aristocrats were devil worshippers, and you were only lucky enough to get away, though barely.

At the back of your mind, you were still screaming as you fought against the binds while they burned you, the ends of your dress tattered and burnt.

The woman that saved you, you didn’t know your name, much less get the opportunity to thank you before she’d freed you, pushing you in the direction of the mountain you were taught to fear. Although that fear vanished as you kept pushing tree by tree, completely unaware that the higher you trudged onto the fearsome land, the atmosphere grew suffocating and too dark.

It didn’t matter now, this was your only place and chance of escaping.

Too dazed in your need to survive, you failed to notice the strong stench of blood, the rotting flesh and bones scattered everywhere upon the steps that led up the abandoned castle. It had been forever since the war that led to the fall of mankind’s chance of modernization, resulting in the world falling back into the ruins that you all had suffered before.

You were panting for air just as you’d reached a few feet before the eerie, looming gate. You had to clutch on a nearby tree to catch your breath, completely aware that you were insane for going to this place as a last resort for a safe haven even if you knew that people had told countless stories to children that a blood drinking monster resided within; whether it was a story told to prevent children from roaming around at night or it was actually true, you would just have to find out soon.

But you’d grown weak, body battered and bruised, stomach deprived of its nutrients and lips cracked from dehydration.

Your legs gave out before you until your body crashed onto the ground, no longer hearing the slight creaking of the gate.

SCARLET [010.]

There was something…wet and warm grazing over your skin, the sensation tickling enough that it stirred you from your slumber. With a groan, you cracked an eye open, all the muscles in your body  chilled when the man sat before you kept wiping at your wounds tenderly, his cold blue eyes sending shivers down your spine once he’d noticed you’ve woken up.

“You are free to stay here until you heal,” he announced, his voice deep yet gentle – nothing like the stories made him out to be. You opened your mouth to thank him – for the clothes that adorned you, the glass of water beside your bed, and for nursing you despite your apparent confusion – but the legendary vampire King himself had stood up, a bowl of water and a bloody towel clutched in his hand before he retreated to the door. 

Then, he paused at the doorframe, head barely tilted your way as he warned, “Do not leave the grounds unless you wish to die. I cannot guarantee I can save you one more time.”

SCARLET [011.]

Megumi was a mysterious person. He never stayed around much, and the castle was far too big for you to ever run into him. No matter how hard you tried to meet him out of want to thank him for his unnecessary kindness, you couldn’t find him.

He mostly left you to your devices. Every morning, you’d find fresh meat, a glass of water – sometimes warm milk – and a pair of his clothes that you’d have to make do with.

You’ve lost count of time of how long you’d stayed under the castle, still terribly confused as to why he hadn’t killed you yet, much less help you. One thing was for sure, however: the infamous King who painted the skies red for years out of bloodlust was not the monster people made you believe he was. After all, what predator cared for his prey this way?

You were beyond determined to show him your gratitude, not having anyone care for you this much your whole life. Growing up in the slums and taken as a child into pleasure houses, this type of privacy and freedom was more than welcomed – a freedom you wouldn’t have ever had had it not been for him. So you stood at the edge of your window every night, a slight bounce in your steps as you waited for him to show up. You rarely ever saw him, but there was no harm in trying, right?

The clouds shifted away, giving way to the moonlight that illuminated the tall figure speeding through the gates. He’d come from hunting his dinner.

With an excited squeal, you rushed past your room with a small towel, running all the way to the lobby to greet him. Your speed put his to shame when you sprinted his way, your excited form rendering the vampire shock still under the dusty chandeliers for a moment, his muscles tensing harder when you smiled up at him.

Your gaze fell down on the blood stains at the edges of his lips. His eyebrows were pinched together, about to ask what you needed when you stood at the tips of your toes, wiping away the blood with a towel.

As he spoke, his voice was gruff and hoarse, almost as if he hadn’t made a squeak of noise for centuries. “Human,” he began, a slight irritation underlying his words, though he made no move to push you away. “Are you not afraid of me?”

“Why would I be?” you queried with a lilting tone, “You saved me, after all. The vicious monster they painted you out to be is far kinder than anyone has ever treated me.”

His eyes darkened at your implications, preventing you from completely wiping the blood away from his face as he gripped your wrists. His claws were long and dark, undoubtedly able to kill you should he wished, but you didn’t fear him, not when he still held you like you were a fragile being. “So just because a devil saved your life, suddenly they are an angel in your eyes?”

“I do not care what you are,” you told him honestly, staring him straight in his eyes swimming with emotions you couldn’t fathom.  “I care not for what you’ve done or who you are supposed to be. All I know is that you are good to me – and why else should I care about anything else other than the fact I have never felt safer my whole life? Should this comfort be in the hands of a monster, I would not question it. I would only be grateful I met you.”

He didn’t speak for a moment, his grip only tightening a bit before one of his arms wound at the curve of your waist.

There was no telling who leaned in first. You were beyond lost in pleasure when he tugged you into his arms, his lips aggressively kissing yours. You groaned at tasting the animal blood still coated in his lips and tongue, but you didn’t care.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, mattered in this world anymore as you jumped into his frame, his arms strong and effortless as he carried you into his room.

The night faded with you tangled underneath him, your clothes ripped and torn, thrown at the other side of the room while he situated himself between you. His hands were no less than zealous as he cupped and touched every curve and dip of your body, his lips never leaving yours.

You moaned when he cupped your drenched core, legs opening further as his thumb grazed over your clit. Whining at his slow teasing that contrasted with his previous needs, you sat up to kiss him harder, pushing his back with your feet to press him closer to you. Both of you groaned when his cock teased along your wet slit, just enough to give a promise of what was to come, but he held onto your hips, his kisses faltering as he panted. “Human,” he growled, “Human, stop. If we go any further, I cannot guarantee I can control myself.”

“Do I make you lose control, Your Majesty?”

“It’s been a long time,” he pulled away from you, all traces of his darkened lust replaced with nothing but softness in his gaze now. He held you there underneath him, his gaze nothing but appreciative as he drunk in your bare features.

It made your chest swell with pride to see him with fussed up hair and bruised lips like that, knowing that you were the only one who had triggered his undoing. “I am only getting back in touch with the restraint I’ve abandoned centuries ago.”

You kissed him once more, this time a lot more gentle and sensual. “Then we shall stop, Your Majesty,” he fell beside you, pulling you closer until your cheek rested above his cold chest. He had worn you out with just simple touches, and sleepiness washed over you like a blanket, mindlessly murmuring things as you traced patterns on his skin. “I wish you would stop avoiding me from now on,” you mumbled, “Sometimes…sometimes I see you in my dreams, and they feel so real,” he stiffened at your words, knowing full well what they meant. “I feel like I’ve known you my whole life.”

Before he could speak, you’d already fallen asleep, leaving him with no other choice but to sigh and pull a blanket over your naked bodies. Pressing a kiss at the crown of your head, he made a silent promise to show you another time.

SCARLET [012.]

You and the King have grown more comfortable after the not-so-subtle declaration of each of your affections to one another. In your eyes, he was your savior and the man you adored most. In his eyes, you were his precious human, his long-awaited lover, and he’d run to hell and back just to be with you all over again.

But…things were different now.

He found it hard to be explicitly pinning you down his bed to let him ravage you. Memories of your past lives, his mistakes, and all his regrets never left him once in his hellish lifetime. Funny, he found it, that the moment you were gone, the moon refused to show itself, but every time you came after a moment of forever, he feels alive all over again.

“Join me? The water is quite warm tonight.”

He merely raised his brow, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you paddle into the water. There was no proper water supply in his castle, resorting to both of you retreating to the lake deep into the forest every night. This night was no different, but as always, he refused to bathe the same time you did in fear he might not be able to hold himself back. “I have no concept of what is warm and cold, human.”

“Would you like a demonstration then?”

He scoffed, smirking at the way you wiggled your brows. He would say he missed the vulnerable, frail human that always submitted to him, but that would be a lie, since he thoroughly enjoyed how you never shy in expressing your desire for him. “If this is your plan of getting me to touch you,” the King began to discard his clothes, his cock swelling at the way your eyes darkened as he unbuttoned each button of his shirt. “I cannot say I have complaints about it.”

You smiled, triumphant in your goals.

It doesn’t take him long to dive into the water with you, his tongue slipping past your lips while he hoisted your body up, cold hands cupping your ass. Bare like this, your nipples brushed across his chest in a mind-numbing sensation, and he doesn’t stop kissing you until his cock is nestled between your ass cheeks, allowing you to feel that he could be warm in just one place only.

“Mhm – Your Majesty,” you tugged at his hair, neck naturally falling to the side as you let him suck at your skin, his fangs coming out to graze at the sensitive flesh every now and then.

“Megumi,” he squeezed the flesh of your ass, “My name is Megumi. Call me nothing but my name,” you nodded absentmindedly, unable to focus on anything else other than his hands roaming each and every skin of your body despite him having already memorized it after loving for thousands of years. He only stops when you shudder in his arms, pulling away from you with a string of saliva attached to your lips. “You are shivering. And you said the water is warm.”

“You are cold, my love,” the nickname slips effortlessly from your lips that Megumi doesn’t even get the chance to be surprised, “I cannot help it.”

Megumi groaned into your mouth, testing the waters by fingering you under the water for a moment. You clamp around his fingers, begging him to finally touch you, and when you were so good and needy for him like that, how could he resist?

He carried you both and ran back to the castle, wasting no moment as he slipped inside you, both uncaring that his bed had been soaked wet. After living an impossibly life, Megumi learned it the hard way that being immortal didn’t mean he could do whatever he pleased. Time was still precious and gold even after an abundant amount of it, and forgive him for being impatient with the way he snapped his hips to yours for it had been forever.

Watching you fall apart under him, lips parted to let out pretty moans and your cunt still taking him in so well even after so many lifetimes, Megumi only falls for you harder than the last.

He interlaced his hands with yours once he saw you desperately grabbing for something, breasts bouncing at the inhumane speed he started. Megumi’s hips were brutal as it snapped to yours, your hips bruised and blue from his strong grip, fangs bare and eyes a blood red while he fucked deep into your cunt. You gasped as you clutched onto his bicep, toes curled at the sensation he was drowning you with.

“Megumi,” you cried out, eyes shut tight from the overwhelming pleasure. “Please – mark me. I wish to be no one else’s but yours.”

Megumi growled at your words, taking both of your legs and locking them to your side. The sudden stretch exerted on your muscles made you whimper as Megumi sat back on his thighs, watching the way his cock was sucked in by your slippery walls. “I will make you mine. You have always been mine long before you were aware of it,” he stated, forcing louder moans from you when he leaned forwards, bending your legs harder before he bit your shoulder.

Your nails scratched down his back, eyes blown wide open when you saw it, saw him. Megumi kept fucking until you were crying, face flushed and damp with tears.

The ceiling of his castle disappeared as the marking he gave you brought you back to a thousand years ago, playing in your head from your first kiss, to how he had drank you dry, all the way until your marriage and from accidentally leaving him during the war.

You were crying – both from the pleasure and pain that beat down on your heart – and Megumi lapped at the blood flowing from the wound, his tongue searing against the open flesh.

“Do you remember me now?”

“Megumi. Megumi, I’m sorry. You’d been alone all this time and I was not there with you. I am so sorry.”

“You are here with me now. It is fine, my love.”

This timed, you pulled him close enough that space and distance became nothing but a myth, lips desperately moving against one another. Megumi groaned into your mouth when you clamped down on him, prompting him to fuck you harder to reach both your highs. His thrusts soon grew sloppy and your cunt was past spent by the time he came inside, painting your walls white with thick ropes of cum.

Megumi remained inside you even as his cock softened, too comfortable inside your heat to want to be anywhere else. You sighed and kissed his cheeks, his eyes, his nose, then his lips, almost worshipping his beauty and soul you’d fallen in love with over and over again.

“How long has it been? Five hundred years – a thousand?”

“Forever. It’s been forever.”

“Was it worth it? Was I worth the wait?”

“Of course you are. You always will be.”

You closed your eyes, the tears still salty on your cheeks when he kissed them away. The arms wrapped around him tightened for a moment, heart pounding in your chest as you relived your past life in that moment. “Megumi,” you whispered, “Grant me the wish you could never fulfill for me before. Please, I no longer want to live another lifetime without you.”

This time, Megumi no longer frowned upon your words, kissing you once more before he cradled your neck and jaw, those blue eyes softening like the cloudy skies you both danced under in your first lives.

“Forever, my love,” he promised, “I’ll be with you forever. Whatever it is you want, I would give it all to you.”

SCARLET [013.]

Your head rested on Megumi’s shoulder, his arms wrapped around you protectively. The halls of his castle were dark and the soft music was drowned by the screams of the angry mobs outside, their fists banging and guns blaring to tear the place down.

Time had passed and you came to understand why Megumi never wanted you to be like him. He was right – there was nothing to be glorified in becoming a monster despite the gift of immortality. This much you knew after slaughtering villages with him, feeding on parents and snatching away futures from children all to feed your thirst.

Both of you were painfully aware and burdened by the bane that was your existence, which is why you two kept dancing, not minding the fact that castle was slowly crumbling down.

You had accepted your fate. You had gotten your wish.

Megumi had lived millennia of forever’s with you that you were both satiated, happy, fulfilled. When the song hit a high note that the record broke and the chandelier fell, crashing a few feet away from you with its glass shards cutting both of your skins, you kissed Megumi one last time, his grip on your hips as gentle as ever.

The doors had opened.

Gasoline spilled from every corner of the castle, torches thrown and fire licking up everywhere. Gunshots were fired. Anger was vexed and thrown your way as you clutched onto your lover with salty tears on your cheeks, the roof falling completely open until the sun shone through. Both of you hissed through the kiss when it burned at your skin, hot and scorching enough that you just wanted to die in that moment. And you would, in just a few moments, you knew you would.

Megumi pulled away from you, his smile lopsided and sad as he pressed his forehead into yours, etching your features in his soul once more just in case he’d never see you again. “See you in the next forever, my love?”

“Only if you’ll keep waiting for me,” you grinned, and Megumi reached down to plant one last kiss onto your throne, reminding you that you were his lover, his soul mate, his Queen – his world and his everything else. Of course he’d wait for you. There was no need to ask him this – he would always wait for you.

“Of course I will,” he promised, “I will always wait for you.”

This time, you were wholeheartedly prepared for your death.

#fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #megumi x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #fushiguro megumi x reader imagines #fushiguro megumi x reader romance #megumi x reader romance #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen romance #megumi x reader angst #fushiguro megumi #jjk megumi #jjk fushiguro megumi #jjk smut #fushiguro megumi smut #suki: 500 milestone event

[blackwidow-bby]

A Case of You -Alcina Dimitrescu x Maiden!Reader

I’ve been wanting to write something based on the song ‘A Case of You’ by Joni Mitchell. Alternatively the K.D. Lang version is also very good and meaningful to me. Also who better to write with than really tall vampire mommy 😭

As always feedback is appreciated highly! Thank you for reading 💙

Warnings: blood, and smut (18+) little babies

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You had been polishing the silverware reflecting on the years that you had been in Castle Dimitrescu. 3 short but eventful years. At the beginning it was hectic, bouncing between all of the orders from the daughters and those of the Lady herself. Cleaning up countless messes left around as if they were guests in their own home. Clothes here, blood stains there, broken plates and cups everywhere. It had been as if your birth in the village was a curse, born to feel ashamed of poor class. A majority of the women that lived in the village knew that the only fate of their futures was to be sent to work for Castle Dimitrescu until the end of their days. Once the fair young women reached 18 that was where they were sent. Of course not all of them were so “lucky”. The rest of the women and all of the men were left to the struggles of the small village left to the devices of the surrounding lycans of the other lords. Or worse, kidnapped never to be seen again.

Most of the villagers rumored that those that disappeared were taken by the holy Mother herself and experimented on. Everyone knew what she could do, but for all of the bad sometimes holy Mother Miranda brought some good. One time before sweet Imelda lost her leg to a lycan attack, she saw the fainted mark on the side of its face. The same mark her husband had upon his face on the same side, before his disappearance traveling back to town. As she was dragged back safely by a couple farmers who managed to kill the sickly beast, the only sounds that all of the inhabitants could hear were her screams of her husbands name. Utterly distraught that she could become so unrecognizable enough to his dead eyes that in his transformation could still cause her deadly harm. He never had an angry bone in his body, but if that rumor was true, the experiment had created a monster of a once calm man.

All of your years weren’t as hectic as the first year. Eventually the lady of the house had taken a liking to your work. Always quick to come and cater to any mundane request her and her daughters had demanded of you. Actually now that you think, you can’t remember the last time any of your orders came from the daughters. They only came from the head maid or Lady Dimitrescu herself. A small quirk of your lips found it’s way thinking of your Lady.

Shortly into your second year she began to request you privately into her bed chamber. The first time she asked for you, you had been scared that your end had found it’s way sooner than you would have liked. Your heart was racing in your chest, begging your feet to be just as erratic on the way to her room. Somehow you managed to compose your pace but your heart insisted on faltering you. You knocked three times on her door upon arrival. You were unsure if she had heard, the doors of the castle were solid wood and although your hands were not soft due to the amount of work you were asked to do, your knuckles certainly weren’t hard enough to evade a slight throb from the hefty door.

Her voice crooned from with in, “Come in, my dear.” You opened the door to her chambers carefully as to not slam the wood open and not damage whatever might be on the other side of its radius. She smiled down on you very sweetly. There was something in here eyes. It felt almost like an admiration. You wiped that thought from your mind as quickly as it came. Why on earth would she ever admire you.

She sauntered toward where you stood and slowly lifted her hand. The fear you harbored for the Lady caused you to flinch at her movement. She had never laid a hand upon your person but that did not mean your time would not come.

Your flinching halted her movements. Her expression changed but only slightly. “My dear, I am not going to harm you in such a way.” She had lowered her voice in the close proximity of your bodies. You opened your eyes once more to see her gently place her soft gloved hand upon your head. Gently she moved it down by your ear and caressed the side. “Come to me little one.”

You followed her to her vanity. The space was tidy with neatly placed powders and lipsticks and other make up you had never seen any of the women of the village actually own. She sat down on her chair in front of the vanity. All of the furniture you noticed was made to her size in this dim room. None of the maids were ever called to clean this space, it made you wonder if she even used it at all. Maybe the Lady chose to take care of her own space in a way she knew no one could ever recreate or perfect to her liking. She hummed and pulled your hand to her. In her glorious size, she picked you up and placed you on her lap facing the large mirror. Your eyes shifted between her and your own height. Even perched on her Lady’s lap, your height was still shorter than her own.

Her eyes never met yours even as she slightly moved about to gather a soft brush and place it closer within reach. Your heart was still bounding in your chest trying to make sense of what was perspiring at this moment. The Lady removed her gloves by pulling one finger at a time until they could slip off smoothly. She then reached up and began to undo the clean French braid your hair was done in. She was being so kind and so soft with you, you were baffled. She started to unwork the three strands until she reached your scalp. You moved in tandem with the Lady as she reached again to grab the brush and began at the bottom of where your hair reached. Her ministrations were so soft it allowed your heart to calm. You kept your hands in your own lap, not daring to speak before being spoken to or move before being asked to move. Your Lady focusing solely on brushing the tangles from your hair allowed your own eyes to look about the space you sat. Her only task to groom your tresses, allowed you to get a good look at her face. Her lips and cheeks looked so soft. Her face wasn’t stoic but content in the space. She certainly didn’t look as nervous to have you here as you did to be here. Occasionally her hand would come around the underside and her knuckles would gently brush against your clothes back.

Everything she did was so calm and planned and relaxing. You took the rest of the opportunity to admire her further. Her raven dark locks meticulously curled in their places. Her hat always cocked to the side on her head, you wondered if it ever got in the way. She certainly never let it bother her if it did. The sudden speaking of her voice caused you to jump due to how silent it was seconds before, “I had been admiring you from afar for a while now. I’m sure you have an idea of why you had been called to my chambers after not being asked to before.”

Your voice betrayed you, you had been silent for too long. “Y-yes my Lady. I think I know why I’m here.” She hummed again. You felt the brush finally make its way to your scalp. The bristles were so soft and comforting they made your eye lids heavy. Seeing that she was done with her work on your hair, she placed the brush back in its spot and made eye contact with you through the mirror. She looked at you for a couple minutes more until she spoke again. “You’re always so quiet and kind around everyone here. My daughters can have a way with making the maids end up with either tougher skin or breaking their calm façade.” She was now running her fingers down the length of your back over your uniform. “But not you. You are still the same as you were when you showed up. Quiet and composed.” You weren’t sure if you should thank her for the compliment or be offended by being told that you haven’t changed. You felt like you could handle anything after the tortures her daughters could put maids through.

You could feel her hands moving back up your back and over your shoulders. Her cold slender fingers found your collar while the other hand swayed your hair over your left shoulder no doubt to expose your neck to her. This is it. This is how you end. What a lovely way to die. Her faced inched closer to your exposed neck and you could feel her breath inches away from the space. Your eyes couldn’t seem to move away from her though. You watched the whole thing and how her face never changed emotion. Everything she had done with you was in admiration. Like she longed for what you could offer her as if she didn’t have everything she could want in this castle.

Her face inched closer until you felt her lips press against the spot she was just eyeing. She lightly kissed you and reveled in the sounds you let escape. A chill ran down your body and found purchase in your stomach. You could feel the butterflies going crazy. Yes truly what a lovely way to die. You braced yourself when you saw her go to bite. Braced yourself for the white hot pain to shoot across your whole body but it never came. Instead the only thing you felt was pleasure. She continued to suck in the same spot for moments more. It all made you feel a growing knot down lower. Her strong arms encircled around your waist to hold you tightly as if you could slip away at any moment. You felt them hugging you tightly. The embrace soothed every part of you. You had never felt so cared for.

Unconsciously you noticed that your hands found purchase upon her own. Her face lifted from the crook of your neck, not a smudge to be seen or hair out of place. You could feel her lips by your ear. “I could drink a case of you, and still I would be on my feet.” She whispered and it made you visibly shudder in need. What kind of affect was she having on you?

“You must never speak of this with anyone”

🩸🩸

She requested you many more times and each one was just as delicate and sweet as the last one.

“You’ve been polishing that spoon for an awfully long time, dear.”

Your head whipped around at the Lady’s sultry voice. Your Lady, you thought. “What is it that has your mind occupied?” She questioned.

“Nothing my Lady. I was simply thinking of you.”

She smiled a genuine smile at you and reached her hand toward you. You walked up to her and laced your fingers with hers. Every moment you spent with her you cherished since the first. She reserved so much kindness for you. Internally she ached for the next time she would request you again. Thinking of the way your blood tasted on her lips. So bitter and so sweet. She couldn’t help but want something slightly different this time.

You both made your way to her private chambers once more like clockwork. She allowed you to enter before bending her way inside. You immediately walked over to her vanity as that was where she always fed from you right after brushing out your hair. You turned to her and smiled but she stopped next to her own bed. “Come here to me, my little love.” You walked up slight confusion on your face. “If any of this makes you uncomfortable, I want you to stop me. Can you do that for me, draga mea?” You nodded slightly. She sat down on the edge of her bed and reached her hand to wipe the wrinkle that etched on your forehead in your confusion.

“My little doe, you mean more to me than you could ever know.” She pulled your hand to her and moved both of you to the head of the bed. Gently she cupped your chin in her large hand. You closed your eyes and suddenly you felt her lips press against yours. Gods they were so soft but so cold. You reciprocated her kiss. Alcina had craved this for too long but she needed to pace herself. She has the rest of the afternoon until the night to indulge in anything your freely gave to her. You didn’t move to stop her and she took this as invitation to continue further. Keeping your lips pressed to hers, her hands roamed your body lower than just your back. She relished in the soft skin of your thighs and the way you felt under material that had softened from years of wear and wash. She couldn’t help but think of how your bare skin would feel under her own hands.

Your own arms snaked their way to her face as you cupped the sides with both hands. Your lips continued to move in tandem with her own letting soft whimpers escape here and there. Her hands grabbed the hem of your dress and slowly made her way up to removing the garment. You whined when she separated the kiss to completely remove the dress. “Are you still okay, little doe?” You answered with a small yes and moved to undo the buttons behind her own dress. Once the buttons were undone enough to slide her dress down you moved the sleeves down her muscular arms. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of looking how small your body was compared to hers. How soft and unblemished your skin was. All she wanted was to kiss every soft inch. Even the one side of your neck that she fed from ceased a single indent. She always made sure to feed carefully as to not rise suspicions.

She pulled you back into her slightly laying over you and began to kiss you once more as her hands roamed to your chest. She wrapped her hand around to undo your bra carefully to free your soft tissue from their confines. She separated once more to look at all of you that was exposed. The gods certainly took their time in creating such a spectacular woman she had thought. Her whole hand moved down to palm your breast lightly. She could feel the bumps raise and your nipple harder under her touch. You let out a little moan under her touch. She could spend eternity doing anything to hear your little sounds. Little sounds only she could make you release. She looked into your eyes creating the distraction for her hand to move to your underwear. You stared deep into her golden orbs never breaking as she sought out your core with her finger. Your breath hitched when you felt her slide down your soft folds and move back up to your clit. You were warm and wet and all for her. Alcina’s sweet little doe. She pressed a small peck to your lips then moved her mouth down to your breast that her hand had just been. She began to suck as she teased the entrance to your tight hole. She relished in the feeling of your most intimate parts and the sounds she could draw out from your delicious mouth. You were arching your back into her wanting nothing more than to be so close to her.

Your hands gripped anywhere the could. Her arms, shoulders, neck, hair. Everything she was doing made your brain go crazy. You did everything you could to find where your hands fit best. Her soft tongue swirled around your nipple while the tip of her finger pressed deeper into you. She was losing patience in having more of you and it was taking everything in her body not to devour before she was content you felt as good as she did all those times she tasted your blood. But damn did she want all of it. He finger pressed deeper until she was down to her knuckle. Your soft panting didn’t give any indication that you were in pain. She started to move her finger in and out at a slow pace to get your body use to the intrusion. Your panting grew louder and so did your moans. You wish you could feel this way everyday from this moment on. So cared for, so deeply wanted. Alcina kissed her way up from your breast to your neck. Leaving light nips and soft kisses near where she could feel your pulse quicken. He finger moved faster inside of you, pressing at your soft walls until she found that spongey spot that would surely get more sounds out. She had to take her time though.

‘Ohs’ and ‘ahs’ were all you could really get out along with all of your sickeningly sweet moans. Alcina never expressed out loud but she wanted you to say her name. Moan her name out from your lips, cry to the gods or whoever would listen that she could make you feel bliss like you’ve never felt before. No one ever got this much want out of her. She never wanted anyone the way she wants you right now. The way she’s been wanting you since you came to the castle. Her little doe unraveling under her half naked body. You were finding it harder to contain any noises and began to moan louder the faster her finger moved. All of a sudden curled her fingers, hitting that one spot. “My Lady!” It made Alcina hummm. “Tell me little doe, do you know my true name?” It took every fiber of your being to come up with an answer for your Lady. “N-no my Lady. T-the maids, they d-don’t talk.”

It was amazing you could come up with that through your haze. The Lady was sucking on your neck while she curled her finger more to get you to come undone the way she wanted. “It’s Alcina little one. I want to hear my name fall from your lips.” The knot in your stomach grew. You were getting very close from her sinful fingers buried inside your tight hole. Alcina could feel your Wales tightening around her. As she felt you get closer she bit down on your neck to drink from you the way she had truly craved. The knot broke and you came hard on her fingers, screaming her name to the high heavens. She continued to feed through your orgasm and once she felt your walls stop pulsing she lid her finger out and detached away from your neck.

You were sweating at this point. Utterly spent wrapped up with your Lady holding you tight. She wiped the little droplets that formed on your neck and pulled you onto her as close as she could get you. Your head rested there on her chest still panting. She would go to the farthest parts of the world for you. Hopefully she would have all of the time to prove it to you now.

“I could drink a case of you.” She whispered into your hair before placing a kiss to your crown. You mumbled a little getting more comfortable and sinking into Alcina’s chest.

Sleep began to take over you. “I would still be on my feet.” Was the last thing you said before slumbering in your Lady’s arms.

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#alcina dimitrescu #alcina x maiden #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x maiden #alcina fic #resident evil village #resident evil 8

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers VANDEAD CARNIVAL ;; Present from Mukami [PART 1]

ー The scene starts in Yui’s bedroom

Yui: Today’s Christmas Eve, huh...?

( When I was still living with Father, we were always extremely busy during this time of year with preparations for the Christmas Mass. )

( We would decorate the church for the Mass...or make tons of sweets to hand out to the children as gifts... )

( Somehow that feels like part of a distant past now... )

Haah...

ー Kou enters the room

Kou: Heya~! M-neko-chan~!

Yui: ...Kou-kun?

Kou: No need to act so surprised, right? What’s wrong? You seem kind of down?

Yui: Um, could you please knock on the door before entering? I’d really appreciate it...

Kou: Eh~~? Why bother going through the extra trouble?

Besides, I live here, remember? My house, my rules, no?

Yui: H-Hm...That might be the case, but...

( I have a feeling he won’t understand... )

So, why are you here? Is there anything you need from me...?

Kou: Hm~~? I only came to hang out because I was bored~

Yui: I see. Are you off from work today?

Kou: Exactly! Today’s my first free day in a long time!

Anyway, more importantly, M-neko-chan. You were talking about how it’s Christmas Eve today earlier...Right?

Yui: Yeah...I had a bit of an ‘oh, right!’ moment.

Kou: ‘Oh, right’...? You’re talking as if you only just noticed.

Yui: Yeah...But I really did recall only now. It totally slipped my mind...

Kou: To think you’d forget about such an important event! Is everything okay, M-neko-chan?

Yui: I mean, you guys don’t celebrate Christmas, do you?

Kou: Hmー Well, we’re Vampires after all. We obviously don’t feel like celebrating it, nor are we interested.

Yui: ...Figured as much. There aren’t any Christmas decorations inside the house either...

Besides, I haven’t gone out much as of late either...

Kou: Now that you mention it, you’ve just been going back and forth between here and school without making any additional stops, huh?

If you were to head out, you’d discover that the whole city is in a Christmas mood. 

There really is no way to look past it, whether you like it or not...

Yui: Yeah, but I haven’t gotten a chance to go look...So I completely forgot...

Kou: Hmー...

Ah, say, M-neko-chan? How have you spent your Christmas Eve in the past?

Yui: Eh...?

Kou: I mean, I don’t know how normal families celebrate the holidays.

Yui: Hm...Right. My personal experience might be a little different from the standard though.

Kou: Heeh? In what way?

Yui: You know that my Father works as a Priest, right?

Kou: Ahー I feel like I heard that somewhere before.

Yui: We hold a Mass at church on Christmas day, so we have to prepare for that the night before.

Kou: Prepare? Like the Christmas lights they put up in town?

Yui: Yeah. Ours weren’t quite as elaborate, of course.

On the day of the Mass, the visitors light a candle, take a seat and pray...

Then afterwards we read passages from the Bible.

At the very end, someone will play the orgle and everyone sings together.

It creates such a lovely medley of singing voices...I loved that part.

Kou: Hmm, I see...But is that actually fun?

Yui: Yeah, it is. It is an important day to me after all.

( It’s a day full of memories of the time I spent with Father as well, after all... )

Kou: Hmー So that’s how it is. I mean, I don’t really understand but...Oh, I know!

The other day, this one person at work told me that Christmas Eve is a special day you should spend with your lover. (1)

Have you ever spent Christmas Eve with a special someone before?

Yui: No...I was always helping out for the Mass at Church after all...

Kou: I see...

ー Ruki enters the room

Ruki: The two of you are making a ruckus. At least close the door when you’re talking.

Yui: Ah, Ruki-kun...Yuma-kun and Azusa-kun as well. What’s the matter?

Yuma: We just happened to run into each other in the hallway. Ya guys were talkin’ hella loud.

Yui: S-Sorry...

Azusa: Eve and Kou...The two of you seemed to be having a fun chat.

Kou: Really? It wasn’t anything special though.

Ruki: Anyway, Kou, come with me. Livestock, you stay in your room.

Yui: S-Sure...

Kou: Eh~~...? Oh well, whatever. I got to learn something new at least.

See you later, M-neko-chan~!

ー The four of them leave

Yui: They left...

( Somehow it suddenly got quiet. )

( ...Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded talking for a little longer... )

ー The scene shifts to the living room

Kou: ...Say, say, Ruki-kun. Why don’t the four of us throw a Christmas party?

Ruki: Haah...I was wondering what you would bring up all of a sudden.

Kou: I mean, M-neko-chan seemed kind of sad, you see~

She was raised at a Church, right?

So it seems like Christmas and such brings back a lot of memories for her.

Yuma: So that’s what the two of ya were talkin’ ‘bout earlier, huh?

Azusa: ...Say, what is...Christmas?

Kou: Ah, are you interested, Azusa-kun?

Christmas itself is on the 25th of December and the day before that is called ‘Christmas Eve’.

It’s the day on which they celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ~

Azusa: Heeh, then...Today is the 24th so it’s...Christmas Eve...right?

Kou: Exactlyー! So I was thinking we could hold a little celebration?

Ruki: Azusa, did you not celebrate Christmas back when you were still human?

Azusa: ...We did not have that kind of celebration...

Ruki: How about you, Yuma?

Yuma: Hmー... Now that ya mention it, I do feel as if the city was a lil’ more lively ‘round this time of year...I think...?

I might have celebrated it back when I was a child, but I forgot.

Kou: I’m pretty sure my answer should be obvious but...Ah, you must have celebrated it, right, Ruki-kun?

Ruki: Well, yes.

Kou: Makes sense. You are a rich boy after all~

Azusa: Say, Ruki? How exactly do you celebrate it...?

Ruki: You decorate the inside of the house, say your prayers to God and enjoy a meal with the whole family.

There’s special foods and snacks which are only enjoyed on that particular day of year...

Also, you would exchange presents...I suppose that about sums it up.

Azusa: ...Exchanging presents...I honestly don’t care about the exchanging part. I’d much rather just be on the receiving end of all the punches...

Kou: Ahaha...Putting your wishes aside for a second...

Don’t you want to try and hold a Christmas party?

We’ve never really done something like that with the whole family, right? Come on, why not?

Ruki: Family, huh...?

Yuma: That bein’ said, Vampires celebratin’ the birth of Christ is kinda fucked up, no?

Kou: Should we not? Do you think he’ll be upset with us?

Ruki: ...Well, while I doubt he will be thrilled about it, that man has connections to the Church of his own, so he might understand in a sense.

I doubt he will condemn us if we hold a small celebration at home.

Kou: Right~? In that case, let’s get this party rolling~!

Ruki: Yuma, Azusa. What do you two think?

Yuma: ...Ahー...

Azusa: ...

Yuma: Oi, Kou. The Sow’s havin’ a rough time, right?

Kou: Yeah, she is.

Azusa: I...personally don’t care much about the party itself but...I don’t want...Eve to be sad...

Yuma: Nnー Well, it’s not really for her sake, but I don’t see any harm in doin’ this sorta stuff for once?

Ruki: ...

Kou: Fufu~ In that case, we just need permission from Ruki-kun...~!

Ruki: Haah...You’ll all be helping out, including during the clean-up, understood?

Yuma: Oh! Which means...

Ruki: Exactly...I suppose it will make for a nice change of pace.

We haven’t really spent much time together as a family up until now after all.

Furthermore, pleasing Livestock is part of our duty as her masters.

Kou: Hooray~~!!

In that case, we need to get started with all of the preparations!

Azusa: ...

Ruki: Oi, Azusa. Where are you going?

Azusa: I figured I’d go...tell Eve that we’ve decided to hold a party...

Kou: Eh!? You’re going to tell her?

Yuma: Aah? Should we not?

Kou: Hmー Don’t you think this is a perfect chance to make it a surprise?

Yuma: Surprise...? The fuck’s that?

Ruki: It means to catch them by surprise. In other words, you keep it a secret until the very second they arrive at the party...

Kou: I’m sure she’ll be ten times happier than if she already knew about the party beforehand!

I’m an idol, remember?

So I’ve had people throw a surprise birthday party for me before. 

I felt so happy back then!

Yuma: Hm. Is that how it works? Well, fine by me.

Ruki: Azusa, you’ve heard us. You don’t need to go inform her.

Azusa: Mmh. Understood...

Kou: Hmー Holding a Christmas party is fine and all but...

Yuma: The problem’s how to prepare for it. We need to decorate the place, but I have no fuckin’ clue which decorations to pick.

Azusa: I wonder what kind of...dishes we should serve...?

Kou: Let’s leave that part to Ruki-kun.

Ruki: Right. Just leave the cooking up to me. Which leaves...

ー The scene shifts to Yui’s bedroom

Yui: ( Hm...It’s a little chilly in here... )

( I’m pretty sure quite some time has passed since the others left as well. I wonder what they’re up to...? )

( Right. I suppose I’ll check up on them while I go grab myself a hot beverage. )

ー The scene shifts to the hallway

Yui: ...

Kou: Let’s leave that part to Ruki-kun.

Ruki: Right. Just leave the cooking up to me. Which leaves...

Yui: ( Ah...Kou-kun and Ruki-kun’s voices... )

( I wonder what they’re talking about...? )

Excuse meーー

ー The scene shifts to the living room

Ruki: ...Oh...

Kou: Eh? M-neko-chan!?

Yuma: ...Ya sure have the worst timin’, huh...?

Yui: Eh!? I’m sorry. Should I not have come in...?

Azusa: No, it’s fine...We were just talking about throwing you a surprise Christmas party

Yui: Eh...?

Kou: Waiーー!! Azusa-kun! What are you saying!?

Azusa: I mean...It’s not like we can still cover it up at this point. If we try and hide it...We’ll only end up making her uncomfortable. ...Right?

Ruki: Yes, Azusa, you are absolutely right. We could have always sent her back to her room, but I’m sure she would have been worried about us secretly scheming something behind her back.

If we upset her, we’re basically rendering our intentions null.

Yuma: Haah, I mean, that’s true but...We could have at least tried to keep it a secret...

Kou: Haah...Guess there’s no point now...

ーー And with that being said, we shall now commence with the preparations of the Mukami family’s very own Christmas party~!

Yui: Eh...!? We’re holding a Christmas party together!?

Yuma: That’s what we said earlier, remember? Are yer ears still workin’?

Yui: No, they are but...I’m just shocked...

I’m just wondering if it’s okay for you all to celebrate Christmas even though you’re Vampires?

Ruki: You don’t need to worry about that.

Kou: Exactly! Don’t fret over the small details~!

Are you not happy? You get to celebrate with us!

Yui: Of course I am...! I’m just surprised, that’s all.

Kou: I don’t think there’s any time to be surprised though? We have to hurry up and  prepare or Christmas will be here before we know it!

Yui: Ah, right!

Kou: Okayー! Let’s get started with these preparations right away!

Azusa: Eve...We’ve never held a proper party before...Can you tell us what we should do...?

Kou: First off, it’d be a great help if you could give us some pointers on how to decorate the house.

Yui: Well, we have to make actual decorations first...

Ruki: I assume it would be much quicker to just head to the store rather than explaining it here first.

Yuma: Good point. I doubt I’ll understand from some explanation alone.

Azusa: ...Yeah...

Ruki: There you have it. We are heading out at once.

Yui: Sure!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the department store

Yui: ( I never thought I’d one day go shopping with all of the guys like this... )

( That alone counts as a Christmas miracle. )

Yuma: Whatcha been grinnin’ ‘bout this whole time?

Yui: Ah, right. I’m just so happy we’re all able to go shopping like this...

Yuma: Heh, you’re gonna find yerself lost ‘gain if ya keep yer head in the clouds like that. Wouldn’t be the first time after all.

Yui: I...I’ll be careful.

Kou: Fufufu, so you’re aware of it at least.

Yui: Y-Yeah...

( It’s not that I actually walk away by myself though... )

Ruki: The food’s next on the list, huh? Oi, is there anything in particular you’d like to eat?

Azusa: ...I’d like something doused in plenty of red chili powder...

Ruki: ...Azusa, let’s try and stick to Christmas food this time.

Azusa: ...Fine...

But what exactly is ‘Christmas food’...?

Ruki: Hm...

Yuma: ...We don’t know if our personal preferences fit the holiday spirit after all.

So shouldn’t we just leave that choice up to the Sow?

Kou: Exactly. That’s why we called her over, so the two of you should talk it over and make a quick decision.

Ruki: ...I suppose it cannot be helped. That seems like the most time-efficient solution. 

Livestock, what did your family eat for Christmas?

Yui: Let’s see...I suppose Turkey or Roast Beef are both staples on any Christmas dinner table!

Ruki: You’re only naming meat...

Yui: Of course, we eat salad as well? Mixing in vegetables cut into cute shapes and such...

Yuma: The fuck does that mean? All veggies are the same, right?

Yui: You can use cutters to shape them like hearts or stars. I guess you’ll get an idea if we go to the deli counter...?

Yuma: Ready-made dishes?

Yui: Ah, I didn’t mean we have to buy anything, but I figured we could gather some inspiration.

Yuma: Geez, I thought ya were gonna take the easy way out. It’s a party after all.

So we’re obviously gonna make everythin’ at home from scratch, right?

Yui: Yeah! Of course.

Ruki: I suppose it’ll give us an idea of what we can make. Well then, let’s go buy the ingredients first.

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: I’m glad we got our hands on some delicious-looking meat!

Ruki: Yes. I’m looking forward to preparing it.

Yui: ( I managed to buy everything I need for the cake as well, so I’ll try my best at making it! )

( I hope they’ll like it... )

Kou: Say, let’s go pick out a tree next! The biggest one they have!

Yuma: Geez, are ya a lil’ kid or somethin’?

Yui: Fufu, you’re interested in decorating it, right?

Kou: I mean, it’s all sparkly and pretty, right? Just like me, no?

Azusa: Let’s buy lots of star-shaped decorations...

Kou: Come on, Azusa-kun. Don’t ignore me.

Azusa: Eh...? Ah, yeah...Sorry...

Yui: Do you like stars, Azusa-kun?

Azusa: Yeah...They’ve got these sharp and pointy ends...So I’m sure they’d hurt a lot...

Yui: S-So that’s why...

Ruki: Azusa, you better not think of tainting those stars with your blood.

Kou: Exactly! Today’s Christmas after all, a day you are meant to enjoy with your family!

Well then~ Which one to buy?

ー Kou runs off

Ruki: Oi, Kou. Don’t run off by yourself. 

I won’t allow for any extra purchases. We’ll only buy the necessities.

Kou: Eeeeeh~? Whaaat~? You cheapskate!

Ruki: I don’t mind being a cheapskate. This is important money we’ve received from that man.

I can’t be wasteful with it.

Kou: Well, I get where you’re coming from but...

Yui: ( Everyone seems to be having fun. )

( Like this, it almost seems like we’ve become an actual family... )

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: Phew, we bought more than I anticipated.

Yuma: That’s ‘cause Kou kept on wantin’ to buy all this shit, right?

Kou: Eeh~? You’re blaming me? Fufu, I won’t deny it. However, we didn’t buy anything we didn’t need, right?

Yuma: I mean, we didn’t, I guess...

Ruki: Let’s go over everything one more time. Is this pretty much everything we need for the tree and decorations...?

Yui: Yeah! We’re all set!

Yuma: We’ve got the vegetables I grew at home as well, so this should do.

Kou: Aah~ We’re actually celebrating Christmas. I can’t wait!

Ruki: Kou, you’re being way too excited. Mind your manners.

Kou: Oh come on, let me be! I never got to experience this as a child after all!

Yuma: Well then, we’re gonna be busy once we get home~!

Yui: Speaking of which...Where did Azusa-kun...? Ah, there he is!

( I wonder why he’s just standing there? )

Azusa: Say, Ruki...

Ruki: ...? What’s the matter?

Azusa: I want this knife...

Yui: K-Knife...?

( Why is he holding a knife...? )

Kou: Hold up, Azusa-kun, where did you get that?

Azusa: ...Why not? I want this to give me pain... 

Yui: A-Azusa-kun! What are you saying...!?

Ruki: Azusa, go return it to the store.

Azusa: Please? ...The shape of this blade is so pretty, and it looks very sharp as well...

Ruki: No means no. Azusa, you have to put it back where you found it.

Azusa: No way....But I want it so badly...I can’t give up on it...

Yui: Azusa-kun...

Azusa: ...Come on, I want it, no matter what...

Kou: Azusa-kun! You don’t need a knife on a fun day like this!

Azusa: No...This is special...

Yui: ( What to do? Azusa-kun’s not giving in at all. )

Yuma: Oi, at this rate we’ll never make it back home.

Azusa: Then...Can we buy it?

Yuma: Just listen to Ruki for today. Ya can buy that crap whenever, right?

Azusa: ...

Yuma: God, listen up...

Ruki: Azusa.

Yui: ( O-Oh no...Ruki-kun started getting angry as well. )

U-Um, Azusa-kun...

Yuma: Ya stay out of this.

Yui: B-But...

Yuma: Geez, guess it can’t be helped. I’ll go bring it back with him.

Ruki: My bad, Yuma.

Yuma: Yeah. ...Come on, Azusa, let’s go.

Azusa: ...No.

*Rustle*

Yui: Ah! Yuma-kun! If you grab him by his collar like that, you’ll hurt him....

Azusa: Ah...It hurts...I can barely breathe...Haah...Amazing...Uu...

Yui: ( A-Azusa-kun is...happy? )

Ruki: Azusa, don’t cause Yuma too much trouble, okay?

Azusa: Yeah...

Yuma: Che! Ya say that but you’re already bein’ a pain in the ass! Come on, walk by yerself already!

Azusa: Nn, but...It’s suffocating...

Yuma: That’ll fix itself if ya just use yer own damn legs, no?

Azusa: It’d rather stay like this a little longer.

Yui: ( He’ll be okay, right? Yuma-kun’s with him after all... )

ー Yuma walks away with Azusa

Ruki: Let’s go. We’ll head back first and get everything ready.

ー Ruki starts walking away

Yui: Eh? Don’t we need to wait for them?

Kou: Yuma-kun may be with him, but knowing Azusa-kun...

Yui: ...?

Kou: Azusa-kun has a hard time letting go of things once they pique his interest.

Yui: I see...

( It might take a while until they get back... )

I hope it won’t turn into a fight.

Kou: Hmー I guess that’ll depend on Azusa-kun’s behavior?

Ruki: What are you two doing? Let’s go.

Kou: Roger~!

Yui: ( Yuma-kun’s actually quite good at looking after others, so we can leave this up to him, right...? )

*TIMESKIP*

 ー The scene shifts to the living room

Kou: Phew~ These were so heavyー

Ruki: Good grief, I’m exhausted...

Yui: ( We’ve got quite a lot of bags... )

Ruki: Well then, we’ve got no time to lose. Let’s start preparing.

If we procrastinate for too long, we’ll only waste time.

I’m heading towards the kitchen to get started on the food.

Kou: Gotcha~!

Guess I’ll get started with the decorations then.

Ruki: We’re counting on you.

Kou: Roger!

Yui: Ruki-kun, I’ll help out as well!

Ruki: Yeah, that would be great.

Kou: I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ll make for us!

Yui: Mmh! I’ll try my best to make something delicious, okay?

*THUD*

Yuma: Honestly, I went through fuckin’ hell and back!

I’m never cleanin’ up Azusa’s mess again!

Yui: S-Sounds like they’re back. He seems really upset though. I wonder what happened...?

Ruki: I assume Azusa threw one of his stubborn tantrums. Oi, Livestock.

Yui: Y-Yes!

Ruki: Go pass on this message to them. Please tell them they should get started with their own tasks.

Yui: Yeah, sure. I’ll go tell them.

ー The scene shifts to the hallway

Yui: Welcome back, you two.

Azusa: If I don’t get that knife, I’ll...I’ll...

Yuma: Aah, let it go already! What’s so damn nice ‘bout that knife anyway!?

Azusa: ...

Yui: ( Seems like they don’t even realize I’m here. )

( That being said, if I leave them be, they’ll run late with their preparations. )

Um, you guys! Welcome back!

Azusa: ...Wah...You startled me.

Yuma: Aah? The fuck, Sow? You’ve been standin’ there this whole time? 

Yui: Yeah...Um, Ruki-kun has already started preparing everything, so he’d like the two of you to help out as well. 

Azusa: But, the knifeーー

Yuma: Ya really don’t know when to give up, huh? We’re done talkin’ ‘bout that!

Azusa: ...You blockhead.

Yuma: Speak for yerself!!

Yui: ( O-Oh no... )

( I can’t leave things like this. I have to stop them somehow... )

U-Um!!

Azusa-kun, Kou-kun has started on the decorations, so can I rely on you to help him with that?

Azusa: ...

Yui: Both me and Yuma-kun understand very well just how badly you want that knife...

But we have to get on with the Christmas preparations now, so I’d really appreciate it if you could help out...

Azusa: ...What about you?

Yui: Eh?

Azusa: What will you do?

Yui: I’m going to make the Christmas cake.

Azusa: ...Okay. I want to try your cake, so I’ll forget about the knife...For a while, at least...

Yuma: ‘For a while’, my ass! Forget ‘bout that thing forever!

Yui: Shh, calm down, Yuma-kun.

Azusa: I’ll go help Kou then.

Yui: Yeah, good luck.

ー Azusa walks away

Yuma: Heh. You’re really startin’ to get the hang of how to handle that guy, huh?

Yui: Y-You think so...?

Yuma: Well, whatever. Anyway, Ruki’s already in the kitchen, ya said?

Yui: Yeah, I think he’s getting everything ready to start cooking.

Yuma: I’ll go get some veggies from the garden then.

Yui: Ah, Yuma-kun! Could you maybe let me have some fruit to use for the cake?

Yuma: Roger. I’ll make sure to grab a few, so ya get yer ass over to the kitchen ‘kay?

Yui: Yeah, thanks!

ー Yuma walks away as well

Yui: Well then...

( I’ll try my best to bake the best cake ever as well! )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) While the holidays are often associated with family in the West, Christmas and especially Christmas Eve are strongly linked to couples in Japan. 

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[ Part 2 ] →

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #vandead carnival #diabolik lovers translation #vcpresentfrommukami #ruki mukami #kou mukami #yuma mukami #azusa mukami

[qqueenofhades]

Are you still taking prompts? We are thirsty and were hoping for “bite me” in a fivan vampire au. Pretty please? What’s that you say? That’s not on the list you shared? Um, oops? I said we are thirsty! 🤤

Ahaha, okay, I think this is going to do it for the prompts for now. I want to get back to working on PEL, and I have (mostly) given the people what they want. But before you hasten to my inbox to request more of this (which I know the Very Hungry Lot of you will do, and I love you so much for it): do know that this is indeed related to a larger project and this is just the first bit of it.

What is that project? Shh. I am not telling you just yet. It's a secret.

Belgrade, Kingdom of Serbia

June 1896

The summer evening is warm and purple, lit atmospherically by both the older gaslamps and the newfangled electric lights (there is a Serb in New York, a man by the name of Tesla, whose great scientific inventions and experiments with alternating current may soon illuminate the entire world), and the well-dressed crowd flows toward the café in a tide of rustling satin, silk, and velvet, ladies in evening dress and men in top hats and monocles. The establishment is the Golden Cross, in Terazije, a bustling neighborhood just south of Stari Grad, and the attraction is an exhibition of the marvelous moving pictures of the Lumière brothers – the first such show in the Balkans, and indeed outside of Paris, after they were first premiered in great triumph six months ago. Or at least, so it is for most of the attendees tonight. Fedyor Mikhailovich Kaminsky has a different task.

He stands apart from the milling throngs, well dressed in a high-collared coat and silken cravat, dark hair parted ruler-straight and face freshly shaven, a old golden watch tucked in his breast pocket and his shoes polished to a perfect sheen. While the people hurry past almost close enough to jostle him, they have a peculiar difficulty in registering that he is there. They sense something, yes – a cold breath on the back of the neck, a prey animal’s inborn reflex to warily search the shadows – but it never quite clicks. They continue on their way without being troubled in their own sense of reality, or ever realizing who – what – is standing there with them. It is just one of the odd, disjointed experiences that Fedyor has had to come to terms with, in the twenty-two years since he became a vampire.

By habit, he checks the horizon. These summer days are late and long, and Fedyor is still young enough that he can’t tolerate more than a few minutes of sunlight. It has taken years to be able to go out by day at all, half-thinking he had dreamed the waking world, become wholly one with the shadows and the night. When he emerged in the last gasps of afternoon, when he felt the golden warmth on his face for the first time in almost two decades, he wept. It still causes him vestigial pain, but not as much. Not so much that it cannot be borne.

He pulls the slip of paper out of his pocket and checks the name again. Then he puts it back and slips smoothly into the crowd. At the threshold, he feels that faint, telltale twinge, the knowledge of entering another creature’s territory without being explicitly bidden to do so. The Golden Cross belongs to the vampire king of Belgrade, who is rumored to be five hundred years old and a veteran of the Battle of Kosovo in 1389 (which, so far as Fedyor can tell, the Serbs have never gotten over losing to the Turks) and Fedyor is not interested in pissing him off. But therefore it is, by Conclave law, a place where all vampires in the city can freely congregate, so long as they haven’t committed some terrible crime. It also means that Fedyor may find the man he is looking for in here, and not have to cross into enemy turf.

A rich reek of wine and brandy, of hand-cranked ice cream in cut-glass bowls, of ladies’ perfume and men’s cologne, of sweat and starch and thrumming hot blood, rises into Fedyor’s nose as he inhales, as his senses have been honed a hundred times more acutely than what he was previously used to. He searches the crowded room, on high alert for another supernatural. Nothing, at least not thus far. But it is a delicate and fiddly bit of bloodsucker diplomacy for which he is here tonight, having to do with the rumor that a local group of creatures have formed a shadowy secret society called Црна рука, the Black Hand, with the aim of expressly interfering in human politics. This, of course, is strictly against the rules, and they need to be reminded of that fact. Fedyor would very much prefer not to fight an anarchist rebel vampire in the middle of a café crowded with oblivious humans, but the thought crosses his mind that this is an excellent soft target. The eyes of the entire city, the Balkans, the international art community, are fixed on this place tonight. If something went wrong – if the Golden Cross and all the souls within it were blown to smithereens –

Fedyor orders a drink at the bar – he has been promised that one day he will again also be able to eat human food if he craves the taste, but it will not nourish him – and sits down near the back, keeping a sharp eye out. Andre Carr, the Frenchman who has traveled from Lyon as the Lumière brothers’ representative, is setting up the unwieldy projector and barking at his assistants to be careful with the fragile, bulky spools of film, his mustache bristling in agitation. Fedyor gauges the mood of the crowd, the din of their heartbeats, their eager interest, their whispered gossip. Still no other supernaturals that he can sense, but that doesn’t mean that they’re not here. The vampire king and his underlings will have plenty of ways to conceal themselves from a relative child like Fedyor. As will the Black Hand.

He leans back in his chair and samples the whisky. Not bad, he thinks, though it’s been a long time since he drank human libations. It’s nice to be out among regular people, but he always has to keep strict watch on the part of himself that yearns to feed, that wants them to run, to fear, to fall. Fedyor has been a vampire long enough to control the hunger, to drink mostly from animals and space out his feeds on humans, to ask them for their consent or pay them for their trouble, but it’s still a struggle. He understands the urge that drives vampires to sequester themselves, to only live among their own kind, to keep drones and other willing human servants to feed from, so that you are not put to the trouble of chasing down a stranger and politely asking to bite them in the neck every fortnight or so, don’t get mixed up as to whether the mortals are your dinner company or just your dinner. It is a deuced bloody bother of a business. Fedyor always feels like an idiot whenever he tries.

Carr and his minions sort out their difficulties, and eventually the lights go down, provoking another eager murmur. Fedyor is not immune to the lure of whatever they are about to see, and he could have done much worse for a new home. He arrived here six years ago from his hometown in Russia, once his lack of aging became too difficult to conceal from his friends and family. Belle epoque Belgrade is a cosmopolitan, cultured world of stately opera houses and marble palaces, grand balls and gaslights, synagogues and streetcars, mosques and museums, bohemians and bordellos and broad balconies, telegraph wires and trolley cars and twisting lanes, churches and coffee shops in the Viennese style, with white-aproned waiters and colored mosaics and demitasse cups of Italian espresso. It is an ancient city, placed in a lethally strategic location at the confluence of two rivers, fought over in almost a hundred wars and razed almost forty times (and doubtless there are still more unmakings yet to come). Fedyor has found a place among the vampire community here, enough that he is trusted to deal with the Black Hand, despite his immortal youth. As to how that will go, well…

He watches the film with half an eye, impressed by the moving pictures just like his human counterparts, and then he feels it. The coldness on the back of his neck, the chirp of a sixth sense, the unshakeable awareness that he is being observed by a fellow bloodsucker. Though that term is considered somewhat dated and passé these days, mildly offensive. Vampires are eager as humans to participate in the scientific and industrial revolution, to concoct more enlightened regulations for themselves, to create an academic literature for their origins. There is talk among the sophisticated supernatural set of organizing an Academy for Preternatural Science, to hire vampire scholars, to establish a university. It’s a nice thought, if somewhat too ambitious (or so Fedyor thinks) for a race of beings that has only just decided that solving every problem with blood feuds to the death might not be the best idea. He wonders if one of those unreconstructed barbarians is behind him now.

Slowly, smoothly, so as to demonstrate that he is perfectly aware of being hunted, Fedyor turns around, and catches sight of the newcomer across the way. He is handsome – but then again, most vampires are, as it’s one of the benefits of the transformation. This one, however, is possessed of a roguish, rough-hewn attractiveness that seems genuine, still close to the face he wore as a mortal man, and not the eerie, glossy, imperturbable beauty that Fedyor sometimes finds so off-putting about his compatriots. This vampire is also wearing good clothes, and his overcoat is dark red, embroidered with curling black patterns. He looks at Fedyor, their eyes meet, and he nods once, half an inch. Game on.

Fedyor does his best to sit still until the lights come up, and the crowd claps rapturously and disperses to fetch more drinks and gush about the performance. Then he gets up and drifts toward a velvet curtain, slipping unobtrusively behind it. Back here, it is dark, dusty, and smells of candlewax and grease paint, the remnants of another performance, a conjurer’s closet. He steadies himself, turns around, and –

“Good evening,” the voice says, cold and curt. “I believe you were waiting to speak to me.”

“Yes.” Fedyor does his best to smile and appear charming and in command of the situation. “My name is Fedyor Kaminsky, and I am a representative of the Conclave. They have sent me here tonight in hopes of locating Ivan Sakharov, of the Black Hand. Is that you?”

The other vampire regards him flatly. His eyes are brown, as is his hair, which is cropped military-short and kept as sharp as his face. When he folds his arms, his muscles bulge, even through the sleeves of the well-tailored coat. “And if I was?”

“Then,” Fedyor says, “I am authorized by that same Conclave to deliver a warning to you and your associates that your current activities fall outside the bounds of the common supernatural law, and if you persist in pursuing them, there will be consequences.”

The other – well, he hasn’t denied it, so this must indeed be Ivan Sakharov – looks back at him with an utterly unimpressed expression. “Oh, so the Conclave found a new stooge to do their bidding? You’re a bit younger and fresher than the usual corpses those desiccated old tightwads usually send out after us, I’ll give you that. How long have you been in Belgrade?”

“How long have you?” Fedyor is almost sure he recognizes Ivan’s accent; they’re speaking Serbo-Croatian, but in both cases with a familiar cadence. “You’re Russian, aren’t you?”

That catches the other vampire by surprise. He hisses, baring a pair of white and very sharp fangs, and his eyes go briefly black. “You think so?”

“Yes,” Fedyor says. “But older than me, I think. Possibly quite a bit, though by how much, I can’t be sure. If we were to – ” he switches languages smoothly, in midsentence – “continue this conversation in Russian, would that be more to your liking?”

Ivan Sakharov eyes him icily. He must know that if he speaks their native tongue, he risks giving away his age by the style of his grammar, or perhaps his place of birth, and that is dangerous information for an unknown quantity to hold over you. There is a whiff of the emperor’s court around him, or perhaps the empress – does he hail from Catherine the Great’s day, Fedyor wonders, or earlier? There’s a long, crackling pause. Then Ivan says in brittle, too-correct English, “Or perhaps we should converse like this?”

Fedyor inclines his head, accepting that he has – for now – been outmaneuvered. They still haven’t taken their eyes off each other, standing close together in the dim velvet-draped shadows, near enough that if they were human, they would feel the other’s heat. There’s nothing but the faint wintry chill of unliving flesh, though a certain hunger rises unbidden in Fedyor’s stomach nonetheless. Then he says, “This does not have to be difficult. Cease your lawlessness and tell your friends to do the same.”

Ivan takes another step, close enough that their noses almost brush. “The Conclave has no power over me, Fedyor Kaminsky.”

“Do you want to test that?” Fedyor breathes, struggling to keep his focus at the other vampire’s threatening-but-thrilling nearness, the way his blood is singing under his skin in an entirely different way than he expected or frankly, that he wants. Just because Ivan Sakharov is annoyingly attractive (and also Russian) does not mean that he is not a dangerous, war-mongering, secret-cabal-plotting megalomaniac, and Fedyor does not need that sort of nonsense in his life. “If you did, I would, of course, be authorized to place you under arrest.”

Ivan looks at him goadingly. “I would like to see you try.”

Oh, so he is indeed one of those immortals (read: the kind who really need to experience mortality just to be kicked very hard in the balls). Fedyor struggles to contain his irritation. If he shows that this handsome bastard has gotten to him, this will only get worse. “If you promise to desist,” he says, “the Conclave will drop this matter and consider it closed. You and the rest of the Black Hand will not be subject to further investigation. That, or – ”

“How do I know that you are even from the Conclave? That you are who you say?”

“Why would I lie about it?”

Ivan shrugs. “I want proof.”

Fedyor grits his fangs. “What do you expect? A badge?”

“No. But I will accept your blood.”

That catches Fedyor off guard. Not that it should, necessarily. Since vampires can sense the thoughts and feelings of the creature that they’re feeding on, it’s a quick and time-tested way to prove that there is no funny business going on (or at least, no business that is funny beyond the usual). The obvious difficulty, however, is that it requires a possibly unfriendly rival to bite your neck or at the very least, your wrist, and one can understand why there would be a natural hesitation to yield one’s neck (Fedyor happens to be rather fond of his) to the clutches of the likes of Ivan Sakharov. But if he says no, he looks like he is weak or that he has something to hide, that he doesn’t trust Ivan or regard him as an equal, and the already-febrile situation with the Black Hand will only get worse. As bluffs go, Fedyor could call this one. But it would be very risky, and if it blows up in his face…

“Very well,” Fedyor says, chillingly correct. He pulls aside the collar of his evening coat and tilts his head, exposing the side of his throat. “Test me all you like.”

Ivan looks at him with something that makes that thing in Fedyor’s stomach rise up again, hot as an ember left burning in a brazier even when all the other lights go out. He hasn’t been warmed like this, not even by the sun, ever since he was turned in 1874 by a vampire named Dmitri Karamazov. He does his utmost to force it down. If Ivan bites him and senses that –

There’s a final pause, soft as tissue paper, fine as crystal. Then Ivan steps forward, looking almost impressed, as if he expected Fedyor to find some reason to back out. He flexes his jaw, bringing out those two impressively white and sharp fangs again, and reaches out, gripping Fedyor’s waist with his big hands and drawing him somewhat closer than is strictly necessary. Then he whispers, “As you wish, Conclave whore,” and bites.

He’s not entirely gentle about it, not that vampires usually are and not that Fedyor wasn’t expecting it. But all at once, as Ivan sucks at him, his mouth pressed hungrily to Fedyor’s neck, wet and raw and savage, Fedyor goes weak in the knees. He’s been fed on before, tested before, and this is different from any of those. He utters a mewling noise of need that he is shocked and deeply outraged to hear from himself, pressing still closer, knocking Ivan a few steps backward into the wall. His hands come up, seeking purchase on the other’s broad shoulders, a smoky curl of desire rising through him like rich incense. “Mmm,” he mutters. “Mmmgh. Yes. Like that. Yes.”

Ivan doesn’t answer for obvious reasons, since his mouth is otherwise occupied, but Fedyor can feel the little frisson of pleasure that travels through him at those words. That takes him aback. Not that he should rush to generalize, since most vampires are fairly flexible in their intimate preferences (you don’t live that long without wanting to sample everything that is on offer, carnally speaking) but for some reason, he just assumed that this tough, frightening, hard-as-nails secret anarchist supernatural idiot wouldn’t be inclined to gentlemen. Not that Fedyor is necessarily objecting. This feels far better than it has any right to do, considering that it started out as a naked challenge to his veracity. Agh, fuck, he should not think about naked. That makes the arousal burn even more hungrily, as he arches his back and presses himself wantonly against Ivan and knows that he’s hard as a rock and that this utter menace can definitely feel it. Ivan is in no hurry to pull away. He drinks for a few more seconds, past when there can be any reasonable doubt that Fedyor is telling the truth, and then slowly, deliberately breaks contact, fangs still half in Fedyor’s throat, as he withdraws with luxurious leisure. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and growls, “Ah.”

“Yes, ah,” Fedyor says, trying not to stammer, as pulses of hot and cold rush through him from head to toe. “Are you satisfied?”

Ivan gives him a wicked smile, drops of Fedyor’s blood still glistening heart-scarlet on his lips. “Maybe.”

God almighty, kill me now. Difficult, of course, when one is – strictly speaking – already deceased. (And now deceased in a different way, which makes it two kinds of dead at once, which makes Fedyor a prodigy.) He wants to ask if Ivan will perform the customary service of licking the bite wounds closed, but he’s also afraid that he may physically incinerate if Ivan does so, and since fire is rather famously one of the only things that can harm vampires, it is better not to take the risk. Instead, Fedyor pulls out his handkerchief and dabs at his throat, with as much casualness as he can muster. “Well,” he says. “You’ve had my word, Ivan Sakharov. Will you give me yours that you will bring your illegal organization to an end and return to the rule of Conclave law?”

Ivan looks him up and down, eyes lingering on the too-tight fit of Fedyor’s pinstriped trousers. Then he leans in, so close that Fedyor truly does think they’re about to kiss and momentarily blacks out, and whispers against the shell of his ear, “Absolutely not.”

And with that, and no more than a rush of air, he is gone.

#ivan x fedyor #heartrender husbands #fivan #fivan ff #anonymous #ask #my god i'm so predictable #(we are all predictable) #but also yes

[qiankunfics]

Fics Alert & Updates

New Fics

KunTen

1.   My gorgeous by Holmes_n_Moriarty

Summary: Kun is perfect until he's not. Rating: General Status: On-Going

2. Lil' Something by ugly_little_sandcastles

Summary: There's just something about Ten that burrows beneath his skin, prickling and sharp and hot, hot, hot. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

3. Dandelions by eyesonflowers

Summary: After four years, Ten reunited with Kun. Rating: Mature Status: On-Going

 4. to fall in love in the wintertime by energyboyeric

Summary: To fall in love in the wintertime, Ten decides, is to fall in love with stillness. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

5. honey, shut your mouth by lowkeyamen

Summary: It's date night but Kun, wrecked from work, is on the brink of falling asleep. Ten knows just how to solve that. Rating: Explicit  Status: One-Shot Fem!KunTenWin

6. The Home My Forefathers Built by jiaqins

Summary: Kun is a brilliant Parisian med student, he has two jobs which he is fond of and relatives whom he loves—even when they are as annoying as his cousin Yangyang. But too many challenges stand in his way and disturb the stability he cherishes so dearly. Rating: Teen Status: On-Going 

7. crazy over you by andnowforyaya

Summary: The photo of Kun's next mark was a flattering one. Rating: Explicit  Status: One-Shot  Trigger: Death 

8. When the time is right by drawing_board

Summary: Nothing in the way he feels towards Ten significantly changes. But he realizes that somewhere in there was a latent desire for more. Rating: Mature  Status: On-Going 

9. the last three times we'll meet (see you again) by kloudoie

Summary: Ten sees the number he'll meet people behind their backs–except one.  Rating: General Status: One-Shot

10. better days around the corner with you by tullycat

Summary: On a Monday afternoon, the most beautiful man Kun has ever seen walks into the café. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

11.  Dreamscape by YHXLWTK

Summary: Ten sighed dramatically and took a step forward so he was standing beside Kun. “You’re my partner for tonight.” Rating: Mature Status: On-Going

12. No matter how goods you're at pretending, your eyes can't lied by Mywoojinie

Summary: NCT2020 promotions really makes relationship between Ten and Kun stumbles. Well. Johnny are there, of course Kun would be jealous. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

13. Unnatural by dojaefairy

Summary: The first time Ten cheats on his boyfriend, he tells himself it's a one-time mistake. It's unnatural of him to cheat on Johnny. Rating: Explicit  Status: One-Shot Trigger: Cheating 

14. Mystery Boy by taetens

Summary: Kun has kept most of his life private, so when he opens up about his newest relationship with some hot shot fashion designer, no one believes him. Rating: Mature Status: On-Going

15.  The Good Side by starrykun

Summary: Kun and Ten work for the same company and were paired to work together to make a collab album. But will things work out between the two? Rating: Teen  Status: On-Going

16. slow dancing in the dark by camellia117

Summary: in which kun needs to learn how to slow dance, and he trusts ten to teach him. or maybe, a story where two lonely boys find love accidentally, by slow dancing in the dark. Rating: General  Status: Completed 

17.  sync up, fall harder by suheafoams

Summary:  kun agrees to help ten plan out a date for his friend. more falls into place than what he initially anticipated. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

18. Hearing Your Voice (Is All I Need) by peachy_beomie

Summary: But there’s only one person who calls him Yongqin. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

19. it’s almost like you’re in love with me (or something) by Markmeinyourheart

Summary: four times kun and ten were complicated and the one time they really weren't. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

20. cat got your tongue? by starrytae

Summary: kunten miraculous ladybug au Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

21. when he sleeps by bahasakalbu

Summary: Ten can't sleep, and Kun is in a deep slumber beside him. Ten minds wonders around their previous memories, while looking at Kun's sleeping form. Rating: Mature Status: One-Shot

22. Home-cooked Meal by autumn_sparrow

Summary: Kun makes dinner while Ten takes a nap. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

23. See You Soon, Baby by nekowafers

Summary: Kun is an office worker who lived a pretty boring until he met Ten, an annoyingly good-looking vampire who won't stop sneaking through his apartment window. Rating: Explicit  Status: One-Shot

24. Not Like That by Meow12251

Summary:  “You know, Kun, you’re not really my type,” Ten says. Kun opens his mouth, face scrunching, unsure what to say. He wonders if he should take offense. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

25. Welcome Home by DestinyHope

Summary: Ten and Kun were living in their house, dreaming about adopting some kids and finally have a family of their own. They didn't expect to end up taking care of boys around their age in need of love and care. Rating: Teen Status: On-Going 

26. softly killing me by yeollama

Summary: Ten and Kun lived the ideal suburban dream, suffocating marriage and all. Of course, it wasn't without a few secrets. Rating: Mature Status: One-Shot

27. persona by latedreams

Summary: However, there were pieces that seemed to have been carved to fit together perfectly, edges effortlessly moulding to each other, creating a perfect harmony. Those were Ten's favourites. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

28. whispers of only the two of us by frinkles

Summary: Ten’s hair sits so well between Kun’s fingers. Rating: Explicit  Status: One-Shot

29. Floating Encounters by stupefiscience

Summary: Kun, an exhiled assassin from one of mainland china’s biggest crime groups tries to find his redemption by taking down Ten. An unknown jack of all trades menacing the powerful dogs of the city. Things take a spicy turn, though. Rating: Mature Status: On-Going

30. give all my secrets away by yeollama

Summary: Finding out Kun and Ten had some weird secret life which involved violence, cars and constant lying was not what Yangyang planned to overhear, but oh well. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

31. hold onto my mask by moonjongup (nicrt)

Summary: They fell in love over time. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

32. your ethereal existence by moonwalker116 (mikararinna)

Summary: “Because if humans can imagine what aliens look like, who’s to say that they haven’t seen a ghost in real life and spreading tales about them?” Rating: General Status: One-Shot

33.  gold star of friendship by sunkissedhyuck

Summary: kun and ten didn't know what to expect at first when putting chenle into school for the first time, but it certainly wasn't anything close to this. Rating: General Status: One-Shot 

34. Penis Colada by pinkfire

Summary: “So, what brings you here?” Ten prompted.“My dick,” Kun blurted, and Ten, who was mid-sip, laughed a spray of tea back into his mug. Rating: Explicit  Status: One-Shot

35. Second Chances by Vante_20

Summary: That night Kun left Ten hanging. Now he is second guessing himself. Things go down and he knows he won't be able to live with himself if give them a chance. Rating: General  Status: One-Shot

36. In A Blink of An Eye by haneyangie

Summary: A secret melody that only he knows. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

37.  Some Other Day by qianwtch (dxnutcare)

Summary:  Ten somehow felt more homesick than usual. He had been laying in bed doing nothing but trying to sleep his frustration away. Rating: General  Status: One-Shot

38. The Finish Line by Maiamia

Summary: Kun is a serious man. Always. It is a requirement for his job after all. But when he’s forced to rely on a shameless, way to handsome driver and his team of outlaws to complete the most important mission of his career, he might realize that keeping it professional is not as easy as it seemed. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

39. Are You A Magician? (Cause You Make My Breath Disappear) by peachy_beomie

Summary:  “Why would I embarrass myself more than I already have?” “Cause your future husband Ten Lee thinks you’re cute, idiot!” Rating: General Status: One-Shot 

40.  in the frozen land, on the night where everything sleeps by 10vesyou

Summary: It marked their one of many, their last strive to save their brother. Tracing the flakes of snow hovering in the air, they set their heart on finding the hidden secret of the world: The Tree of Language. Rating: Teen  Status: One-Shot 

41.  advil and antagonism by ouchsolo for zhosungs

Summary: Kun doesn't think his life could get anymore laughable, until the man he's sworn to hate forever is sitting drunk on his bed and he has no idea what to do with him. Rating: Explicit  Status: One-Shot

JohnKun

42. The Day You Walked Away by senja

Summary: 9 years later, and the same fate was repeated, only this time, only one walked away. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

43. My Universe by senja

Summary:  Kun was trying his best to stay cool by drinking a cup of iced americano in a middle of a busy cafe and suddenly a (not really) unfamiliar man came up to him and asked a question he have never received before. Rating: General Status: One-Shot 

44. Work From Home by jhengchie

Summary: Inspired by the Song Rating: Explicit  Status: One-Shot 

45. not coming back by Kiyuan

Summary: Kun doesn’t like talking about his school days. He’d rather not relive the days he spent hopping between worlds, thinking about nothing else than his partner, his friend and the adventures. Rating: General Status: One-Shot 

46.  Trust Me by seungwanxndxnly

Summary: Qian Kun and the Case of the Big Bomb Rating: Teen Status: On-Going 

KunWin / WinKun

47.  i could be your escape by bambirouge

Summary: Kun’s voice drops to a downright sinful level. “What if I got you hard, right here, right now, in the middle of all these people?” Rating: Explicit  Status: One-Shot

KunCas / LuKun 

48.  Collar Me by softyjseo

Summary: Lucas and Kun were meant for each other, in all of the different ways they can imagine. Rating: Explicit  Status: One-Shot 

Twitter Fics - 

49.https://twitter.com/peachy_beomie/status/1384891177636405248?s=21

Summary: Ten rates his boyfriend’s reactions to his petnames. 

50. https://twitter.com/dojaefairy/status/1377708043807436805 

Summary: Ten decides to confess to Kun on April Fools Day so that he can pretend his confession was just a joke if Kun rejects him, and things get messy.

  Updates

KunTen

1. Wrong (Right) Ad by Alette 2. Has To Be Mine by rowx3yourships 3. catch him if you can by blazingsirius 4. No Biting by taetens 5. Coming Home by YeolsTruly 6. electric magnetic by miramiro 7. Escaping The Moon by Chi_Can 8 .Countdown from Nine by MailOrderBride 9. Pierced! by HaloHalo 10. You Make Staying Away So Hard by Kill3rWhal3D1ck 11. On Thin Ice by taetens 12. all's well that ends well. by chenaki 13. diamonds by rainingover

JohnKun 14.  Afterglow by owzy

#kun #qian kun #kunten #johnkun #kuncas #lukun #kunwin #winkun #tenkun #updates #new fics

[bubblestheraccoon]

Music Mixes

Lumberjanes “Arts and Crafts” Program Field

Treble Maker Badge

“Some Risks are worth the Reward”

Music fuels the mind and thus fuels creativity. A creative mind has the ability to make discoveries and create innovations. The greatest minds and thinkers like Hildegard von Bingen, Barbra Strozzi, and Florence Mary Taylor all had something in common in that they were constantly exploring their imagination and creativity. As a Lumberjane it will be vital that we not only enrich our minds, but enrich those around us. Music is just one of the many mediums that can create an empowering environment, it is one of the few mediums that can be enjoyed at any time.

Finch’s Notes:

This post is based on a section from the bonus content from Lumberjanes: To The Max Edition Volume One. I did not create these playlist, their titles, or the blurb at the top of the post. If any of the links are wrong or broken, or if I should add any more disclaimers for song content, please feel free to let me know!

*D-Slur Warning.

**Only version of the cover I could find on youtube, here’s a version of song without the extra audio but it’s on a Russian website that overwrote my adblocker a little bit so visit it at your own risk. Here’s the song it was covering if you want that instead.

***Could not find cover on youtube. Link instead goes to band camp.

****F-Slur Warning.

Fox Fight Jams! By April!

Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks

Bad Reputation by Joan Jett

Run the World (Girls) by Beyonce

Northshore be Tegan & Sara

Woo Hoo by The 5 6 7 8s

Wilderness by Sleater-Kinney

Wolf by Now, Now

Spin Around by Josie and the Pussycats

Buffy the Vampire Slayer Theme

Jet Pack by Dog Party

Pirates by Jenny Owen Youngs

Dance Apocalyptic by Janelle Monae

Bamboo Bones by Against Me!

Push It by Salt-n-Pepa

I Knew You Were Trouble by Taylor Swift

Up All Night by One Direction

Roar by Katy Perry

Eye Of The Tiger by Survivor

Say You'll Be There by the Spice Girls

Ribs by Lorde

Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks (”Best Song Ever”-April)

River Adventure Mix of dooooom by Mal

I Was An Island by Allison Weiss

Shark In The Water by V.V. Brown

Let's Submerge by X-Ray Spex

Eyes Open by The Gossip

Rebel Girl by Bikini Kill*

Giant Kitty by Shonen Knife

I Won't Follow by the Secret Someones

4Ever by The Veronicas

Sk8er Boi by Avril Lavigne

Take Me Away by Fefe Dobson

Borne On The FM Waves by Against Me! & Tegan Quinn

Ain't It Fun by Paramore

3 Small Words by Josie and the Pussycats

Anchor by Letters To Cleo

That's Not My Name by The Ting Tings

Independent Woman Part 1 by Destiny's Child

Crush by the Sleigh Bells

Oh! by Sleater-Kinney

Tropical by Plumtree

Rhiannon by Best Coast or Fleetwood Mac 

The Con by Tegan & Sara

The Competition by Kimya Dawson

Cave Tunes by Molly

I Have Confidence by Julie Andrews

Ain’t No Mountain High Enough by Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell

Tightrope by Janelle Monae feat Big Boi

Just A Dream by Taylor Swift

Heartbreak Dream by Betty Who

Corner of the Sky by the Jackson 5

Valerie by Amy Winehouse

I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston

Call Your Girlfriend by Robyn

Let It Go by Idina Menzel

Build Me Up Buttercup by The Foundations

Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash

Jolene by Dolly Parton

Rock ‘n Roll High School by Shonen Knife

Don’t Save Me by HAIM

The Cave by Dia Frampton**

She Keeps Me Warm by Mary Lambert

This Is For by Ingrid Michaelson

Cut It Off by Mal Blum

Smash Into You by Beyonce

Jen’s Perfect Camp Mix by Ripley

Gravity Falls Theme Song

Summertime by Audra McDonald

Strong Enough by Kina Grannis

(You’re So Square) Baby, I Don’t Care by Cee Lo Green

Waterfalls - TLC

Just A Girl by No Doubt

Nobody Knows Me At All by The Weepies

I’m Beginning To See The Light by Ella Fitzgerald

Bad Girls by M.I.A.

Spice Up Your Life by the Spice Girls

Magic To Do by Patina Miller & Ensemble

***Flawless by Beyonce

Come On by Josie And The Pussycats

Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey

Here Comes The Sun by The Beatles

Jo’s really rad! Mix by Jo

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Theme

Androgynous(Live) by Joan Jett and Against Me!

Tous Les Memes by Stromae

Sunshine by Rye Rye feat M.I.A.

L.E.S. Artistes by Santigold

What About Your Friends by TLC

Just One Of The Guys by Jenny Lewis

Melody by Kate Earl

Red Cape by Priscilla Ahn

No Wow by The Kills

I Found You by Tilly and the Wall

Do You Remember the Morning by Kid in the Attic***

Cheerleader by St. Vincent

Concrete Wall by Zee Avi

You Can Count On Me by Panda Bear

Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac (”<3″-Jo)

Don’t You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds

Ziggy Stardust by David Bowie

Oblivion by Grimes

Q.U.E.E.N. by Janelle Monae and Eryka Badu

Rapid Decompression by Against Me!

Roanokes Rule: The Mix[!][!][!] by April

Rattlesnake by Saint Vincent

Transgender Dysphoria Blues by Against Me!****

Amazon by M.I.A.

Another One Bites The Dust by Queen

Art-I-Ficial by X-Ray Spex

Separate Rooms by Now, Now

What’s Mine Is Yours by Sleater-Kinney

Sci-Fi Wasabi by Cibo Matto

Tennis Court by Lorde

Son Of A Preacher Man by Dusty Springfield

Dreams by Fleetwood Mac

Desire Lines by Deerhunter

Hot and Cold by Ex Hex

White Daisy Passing by Rocky Votolato

Misguided Ghosts by Paramore

For The Best by Gregory and the Hawk

The Hymn Of Acxiom by Vienna Teng

Capture The Flag by Broken Social Scene

From A Shell by Lisa Germano

Rosie’s Turn

Feeling Good by Nina Simone

Annabelle Lee by Sarah Jarosz

Terrible Things by April Smith & The Great Picture Show

You Can’t Be Told by Valerie June

Wild Geese Blues by Gladys Bentley

The Day Is Short by Jearlyn Steele

One Dime Blues by Etta Baker

Hard Way Home by Brandi Carlile

The Devil’s Paintbrush Road by The Wailin’ Jennys

To The Bone by Okou

Panic Cord by Gabrielle Aplin

Cups (You’re Gonna Miss Me) by Lulu and the Lampshades

Crayola Doesn’t Make A Color For Your Eyes by Kristin Andreassen

Complimentary Me by Elizabeth & The Catapult

Blue Spotted Tail by Kina Grannis

Sorry About The Doom by Slow Club

You Know I’m No Good by Amy Winehouse

From Texas: Big “D” by Julie Andrews & Carol Burnett

Finch’s Notes Cont:

Hi! I made this post to avoid work. But mostly I made this post because Lumberjanes is something really important to me, and these playlist are a part of my enjoyment of Lumberjanes I don’t see people talking about a lot! So I decided to make a post in order to share them with y’all. I remember hunching over my phone making a spotify playlist (here, though it’s missing a few songs that aren’t on spotify) while on a trip to California in the summer of 2018 when I first got into Lumberjanes. I probably listened to these songs while I made my first ever Lumberjanes fanart. These mixes helped me to discover artist I really love, like Janelle Monae and Mal Blum. I hope you enjoy them as well!

Other notes: Sk8r Boi is crossed out as that is the way it appears on Mal’s playlist. Also, I tend to shy away from music videos as a personal preference, so that’s why there are so few included on this playlist, though I’m sure many of these songs have beautiful music videos. I might reblog this post in the future with some youtube playlists of these mixes, but if you want to find them yourself there are a lot of playlists of these songs made on youtube already! Or you can make your own playlists using this post. 

And, just for fun, have one final Lumberjanes themed music recommendation:

Lumberjanes by Various

#lumberjanes #mine #music #mixtapes #long post

[kitsunesakii]

I don't bite - part one

  I walked down the street, my hands in my pockets and my headphones on. It was well past midnight and the moon was at its peak. I fiddled with the placement of my headphones resting against my ears, having just got off the bus they were jostled out of position. Normally I didn't ride the bus, instead flying over the city. But, my mission's house was a little past my favorite park, and I had time on my hands. Shoving my hands in my pocket I heaved a sigh. I wasn't really fond of my mission. I hated biting if there wasn't consent. And there wouldn't be in this instance. I dragged my feet, skipping over the cracks in the sidewalk like a child.

     I arrived at his apartment complex a little after one. But I knew he wouldn't be home, it was Saturday, and every Saturday he wasn't home until around three. Hence the headphones. I sat down at the bus stop, he wouldn't be arriving from the bus, amusingly he walked home from wherever he left. But I didn't plan to stand for a whole hour. So sitting down, I waited.

     My eyes met movement, and I felt him come up. I sucked in a breath, I can do this, I can do this. I got up and nonchalantly walked behind him. The tap on my shoulder is what made me whip around, my headphones clattering to the ground. Making my mission turn as well.

     "Hey sweetheart, didn't mean to scare ya, just wanted to ask why you were out here all alone? "

     I stared at him kind of dumbfoundedly, he was clearly homeless, and by the smell wafting off of him I would say he was drunk.

     "Who said she's alone? " the voice was small but firm, as my mission, a guy who's name I wasn't given, walked up besides me, I stilled. both his hands in his pockets. "I told you to keep up, " he handed me my headphones "you know you slow down when wearing these" he made a disappointed frown.

     I looked from him, to the homeless man, then back to him. My brain slowly catching on to what he was doing. He's protecting me, a stranger I forced out a laugh, "haha, gosh I was falling behind, sorry bout that! " I gave him a smile, weary to keep my mouth shut. The homeless man looked at us for a moment, before turning and walking away. Leaving us alone on the sidewalk.

     I turned to fully face the guy. In pictures I had always thought he would be taller, instead, he was only a half an inch taller than me. "Thank you" I sputtered, my brain still catching up to the events that had just transpired. He just stared at me, his face resting in a rather relaxed posture. Neither frowning or smiling.

     "I noticed you were behind me, do you also live in that apartment complex? " his voice was low, like the gentle hum of a cat. His eyes locked with mine, they were a tainted blue with gold lining. This is your chance, no ones around. I clenched my headphones, my mind spinning a million miles a minute.

     "Ah- no, I don't"

     "Oh, " he responded cooley, "well, then, lead the way" it was probably rude to just stare at the boy that basically saved me from someone, but my mouth wouldn't work and my hands were hurting from the plastic rim of the headphones biting into my fingers.

     I gave him a quick smile before forcing my legs forward. Walking aimlessly. He walked beside me quietly, glancing at me every couple minutes. After a while we hit a cafe, and I walked up to the door, once again turning to face my mission. "Thank you,this is my stop, may I ask you your name? "

     "Matthew" he stated.

     "Well then, thank you Matthew" I gave him another small smile. He nodded, his eyes flickering up and down me before he simply walked away. I watched him, my heart beat rapidly increasing with every second. You could still finish your mission, it would be quick, painless I took in another breath. I couldn't do it. He protected me, looked at me like a person. His eyes, blue golden. I felt a small dash of heat nest itself on my cheeks. The anger came second. What was I supposed to do now? I couldn't go back empty handed, could I? I failed, I couldn't kill him. Why did it have to be him. A good person with a lax life. I gritted my teeth, there wasn't anything else to do besides head back home. It wont be home much longer. Leaving the coffee shop I headed back to the bus stop, no longer feeling up to walking.

     "What do you mean you couldn't kill him!? " I winced at the tone of voice he used, looking at the wooden floor, unable to make his gaze. The room in question was small, but I felt smaller. It was musty and you breathed smoke with every grab at air. I had spent most of the night into the early hours of the day waiting for him to return. 'Initiation' you could have a home, safety, love and more with a stupid test. I'm an idiot my brain screamed, drilling the words harder then the cutting edge of his own.

     "I-"

     he grabbed my chin with his long nails, cutting into my skin easily.

     "Such a simple task," he growled, "this should of been easy for you, such a waste of energy" this wasn't the first time I had seen him this mad, last week, another lonely vampire seeked refuge with him, and they too couldn't do what was asked. using the hand gripping my chin he yanked me to the floor. I recovered quickly, standing to my feat instantly, taking a small step back. Focusing my attention on his words instead of the  burning sensation the cuts caused.

     "You can stay here until sunset, but then, consider yourself cut off" he growled, with that he used his other hand to scratch from my cheek to the length of my neck,  leaving a scar. I waited until he left my small room before patching myself up.      

     What was I getting myself into? Hot tears trickled down my face, collecting bits of blood on it's way down. I should of never accepted his offer. Idiot, it was stupid to rely on others. All it did was end in pain. It didn't help that I had insomnia. Stupid night Terrors that left me trembling. He had said he could help. Instead he stepped all over me, and I let him. I wiped away the tears. I was fine, I was able to handle myself before and I could do it again.

     I tried to sleep, getting only a few merciful hours before I couldn't stop fidgeting. Thankfully it was a pretty cloudy day, and I didn't own much. Shoving the clothes I did own, and a few other belonging into a bag, I forced myself to leave. Going back to the park, under the shade of a great willow. I breathed in the fresh air, so much better than the musty air of the shady apartment I was forced to stay in. I pulled out my book, enjoying the quiet.

     A small shuffle got my attention, I looked up, wincing at the pain the quick movement pierced into my neck. Only to see Matthew sitting besides me, looking up at the sky. He glanced at me, and once again I was peering into his blue gold eyes. Sparkling in the sunlight. I couldn't help but smile, cautiously keeping my fangs out of sight. "Fancy seeing you here" I stated.

His eyes swam, tracinging my scar wordlessly. "Hi" he said flatly, his features neutral. I felt my fingers absentmindedly play with the corner of my book. "Your bleeding"

     My hands emediatly grazed my scar, my eyes still locked with his. "Oh, yah,  fell-" I muttered, without a moment to process I felt his hand come up and trace the length of the wound. Moving his hand gingerly, his eyes fixated on the scar. I held my breath, his fingers sent ripples that danced over my cheek down to my neck. It was almost soothing, the gentle carressing made my scar itch. I stared at him, his face was like stone, not even paying attention to the surprised expression that was slowly melting from my face, replaced with a tint of scarlet.

     "Does it hurt? "

     I almost didn't register his words, being he practically whispered them. I  caught  his wrist, holding it before it left my neck, "no" I whispered back. He opened his mouth, then closed it, removing his hand and shoving them back into his sweater pockets. Then, as if nothing happened, he once again tilted his head towards the sky, and I back down to my book. Some time passed, I felt him look back over to me, quietly watching me read. It was hard to ignore, and after a few minutes I matched his gaze. He looked lost in thought, not even registering that I caught him staring. Instead, he looked trapped in deep conversation with himself.

     "Do you come here often? " I asked, ripping him from his thoughts.

     "Not really, Do you?" his voice had such a nice hum, almost like an accent.

     "Not really, but it's been a rough day and I didn't have anywhere else to go and I quite enjoy reading-" I felt myself start to ramble, and quickly shut up. My sharp loud voice a stark contrast to his. His brow folded slightly, barley making a dent on his neutral expression.

     "Did someone- Do you need somewhere to stay?"

     "No" yes, I watched him nod before slowly  turning his gaze back to the sky. I looked up as well. The clouds were striking. Each had a unique shape and the sun created shadows that bounced on the tips of some and on the body of others, adding to the depth of the cloud cluster. In total it looked like I was staring at a painting, perfectly mastered to fit the atmosphere. Each cluster was like an island, floating in the blue sea, each containing it's own form. I admired the brilliant picture of white on blue, getting lost in it, feeling time slowly slip away. My eyes closed, lost in my own sea, I didn't even hear him leave.

     I watched the clouds, the day slowly passing over me, fading into the shadows of dusk. I slung my backpack over my shoulders and adjusted my headphones on my head, choosing a playlist before heading out into the night. I walked the same road I had just yesterday, when an idiot decided to look out for me. I bit my lip, a little too hard. Ah, I stopped, abruptly wiping away the bit of blood with my sleeve. "Just another scar to add to my growing collection" I grumbled into the breeze. I found myself walking up to the same cafe I had seen last night. I decided to go in, since I had no real destination.

     Pulling of my headphones and Opening the door I was greeted with the late night song of a coffee shop. in total, there was about 6 people. Not including the barista and myself. There were two girls at a table, looking over a laptop. And a boy flirting with the barista, who wasn't giving him the time of day. Over by the tv was a couch, empty besides a guy with his back to me.  And in another table was another girl and boy, talking lightly. I walked over to the couch, listening to the music that echoed quietly throughout the room. The couch was awfully comfortable, like a warm hug it beckoned me into the soft safety it had to offer. I closed my eyes, hugging my backpack to my chest as I let myself drowned in the beconing noises of the coffee shop.

     My brain sank into the small specks of sleep, pulling me just enough to be jolted awake. Mently cursing at pain it caused in my stomach. I adjusted to the striking colors surrounding me, rubbing the last flecks of sleep out of me. I was me with a pair of eyes, blue with gold lining. "Hi" I gasped, still recovering from the violent awaking.

     He stared at me a moment, and I got the feeling he had been staring before. I straitened in the cushions, fighting against the stiffness of my body. Sleeping in a sitting position wasn't in the least bit comfortable. "How long you been there" I joked, trying again to shift myself into a more polite position.

     "Are you sure you don't need a place to stay? " his voice carried the same low hum as before, but I noticed the concern. Feeling the tips of my cheeks get red. I did need a place to stay.... But I had no money whatsoever, except for a few bucks for the bus. I looked down, why was he being so annoyingly nice??

     "I-im" for the first time, I truly didn't know what to say, he was being so calm, it was driving me mad.

     Without warning, he stood up picking up a coffee that I hadn't noticed before. "Follow me" he said

     We walked out of the coffee shop and into his apartment complex, I fidgeted with the handle of my backpack, forcing myself to keep my mouth shut. A million excuses flooding my thoughts. We entered an apartment room, well, more like two room, one small and one large. The kitchen seeped into a nice living room, equipped with a cute couch and coffee table. A little to the left was a separate room that I could only assume was the bedroom. There was a tv on the wall, and a couple shelves to the side, adding a touch of comfort. As I looked around, he walked into the kitchen and placed his coffee on the counter.

     "The couch folds into a bed, and I have spare blankets, oh-" he walked over to a  cupboard and pulled out some medical supplies. Quickly walking over to me, "here, sit" without process I stumbled into the couch, barely catching myself, bracing into the fluff of the fabric.

    "What-" before I could finish my thought my breath hitched as his hand cupped my chin, gently tilting my head, looking at my scar. He glanced at his supplies, picking up a Q tip and dipping it in a thickly coated gel. He put it on my scar, I gasped, the gel felt cold against my skin. He pulled back, his eyes widening

     "Did I hurt you?"

     "No, no, you just startled me, that's all" I gave him a reassuring smile. After a hint of hesitation he carefully glided the Q tip on the length of my scar, only stopping to add more gel. His fingers pressed lightly on my cheek, being carful to not be rough. His gaze set on my scar, his eyes shining in the light on the ceiling. "So pretty" I mumbled, blinking at the fact that I said that aloud. His eyes flickered to mine and I emediatly went beet red. A small smirk rested on his face.

     "Thank you" he mumbled back, his face a light shade of red. He finished quickly, and soon he just sat there, stroking my cheek with his thumb. Not bringing himself to move away, his face back to its same stone look. I yawned, it had been a while since I had gotten even a few hours of sleep, and I was weak. He caught on emediatly and let go, muttering something about blankets while he headed off into his room.

     I rubbed my eyes, setting my backpack down on the floor next to the couch. He came back and opened the couch, creating a cozy looking bed, a perfect fit for me. He placed down the pillow and blanket, and wordlessly I climbed into it. Letting my body relax, barley feeling the blanket being pulled up over my shoulders, or the lights being turned off.

     No, no no no, I wimpered, the shadow looming over me. "Your dreaming, wake up"  the shadow took a step towards me, I let out a low wine, unable to back up, "your dreaming, it's ok, I got you, it's ok"

I felt a tight gripped hand pull me against something, ripping me almost completely out of my nightmare. My eyes still closed, I bared my teeth at the shadow. I tried to pull my legs up to my head, trying to cower from it. My stomach tightening in knots. Something gripped me close, I felt breath on my ear. "Hay hay, it's alright, nothing can hurt you, your safe, your safe." I felt my body relax, the voice louder than the shadow. I let the invisible thing pull me closer, laying my head on something rhythmic. Slowly sending me back to sleep, my eyes still closed, I felt somthing brush against the top of my head, already to far asleep to notice.  

     When I woke up it must of been early because the sun was still well behind the horizon. I sat up, yawning and baring my teeth. There was a clatter in the kitchen, I looked around, the lights were off, but there was Matthew, cooking something over the stove. The smell wafting over. I couldn't help but smile, I didn't know why, but I had slept through the entire night without waking, and I felt very relaxed. I stood up, careful not to disturb Matthew, who was deep in thought. I walked over, leaning against the island and just staring. He was smiling. It was quite a sight, making his eyes shine even more. I wondered what he was smiling about, what was causing his face to show such emotion. I looked over his shoulder, in a pan was two eggs. They crackled and popped.

    "Good morning," I said finally, unable to keep myself quiet. He look over and his smile faded slightly, going back to its stone look. But the light in his eyes only got bigger. "Oh please, don't stop smiling for me" I teased, watching his face go bright red.

     "Good morning" he said back, watching my movements closely. "Did you sleep good?"

     "Yes actually! I sleep wonderful, your couch is super comfortable" I said, his eyes searched mine, as if looking for a clue. I cocked my head to the side, giving a playful frown to his reaction. "Everything ok?" I asked, the tense silence growing too much for me.

     His features relaxed, "yah, just making sure" he said, turning his attention back to the pan of eggs. After a moment he skillfully slid them on two separate plates and handed a plate to me. Opening a drawer and pulling out two forks. We sat down over at a small table that bordered the kitchen. It was in front of a window, outside I could see the sun peeking out. I shuffled nervously, taking a bite of my eggs.

     "These are really good" I said, my mouth full of egg. His blue gold eyes brighteded, and he glanced at the window, noticing the rising sun. Then, he stood up and pulled the shutters closed, making sure no light got in before proceeding to continue making work on his eggs. Without any words said. My brow folded, confusion and slight paranoia lapping at my senses.

     "What was that about?" I asked innocently, my eyes narrowing.

     "He looked at me a moment, his fork still fiddling with his breakfast. "The sun is too bright in the morning" he said flatly, averting his eyes.

     "Ok...."

     We went back to eating in silence, after I was done, and noticed he was also done. I stood and took his plate, quick enough so that he didn't have the chance to argue. "Thank you for breakfast" I said again, placing the two plates in the dishwasher. "And... Thank you for letting me stay the night, but..." I made myself state what had been bugging me for the past few minutes. "I don't have enough money to pay you for your hospitality. I don't want to invade on your privacy, and you probably don't want someone like me hanging around your apartment and-" I was cut short in my rambling by the small smirk that was slowly growing on his face. I had expected him to be disappointed, maybe even mad. But he looked, amused. "What? Why are you smiling" I said, embarrassment flickering in my words.

     "I wasn't expecting payment. I enjoy the company." He explained, trying but failing at forcing his smirk off his face. "You can stay as long as you want" he finished. Standing to his feet he walked over to a drawer and pulled out a spare key, handing it to me. "Just make sure to lock up before you leave" he hummed, his voice back to its low sing song like melody. Leaving me flabbergasted.

     I cleaned up the couch, folding it back to a sitting position and placing the blanket and pillow on it neatly. When I finished I sat down, he had left shortly after our conversation. Mumbling something about work. He had tossed me the remote before leaving. I skipped through the channels, the news wasn't ever really interesting, it was all the same now. Talk about the politics of vampires and humans, vampire rights and freedoms. Stupid. Ten years now, people have lived with them peacefully. The news was grasping at strings. Still, it was better than nothing, and I settled for a channel on cooking. It wasn't long before I got fidgety, and had to pace around the room for a while. It was too bright to risk going outside, so I opened the fridge to drink something instead. There wasn't much, but orange juice sounded good, so I drank that. Slowly but surely, as the day carried on, the sun started to settle behind the horizon, kissing the mountain tops.

     I fiddled with my headphones, when the door opened and in he came. "Hay!" I shouted, giving him a closed lipped grin.

     "Hi" he breathed back, clearly exasperated from whatever he was getting back from. He made a beeline to his room, closing it behind him. It didn't take long before he had came back out in a new more comfortable outfit. His hands in his pockets. "Are you hungry, I know a really good place over a ways" he asked, his blue gold eyes locking with mine.

     "Yes! I would love that!" Jumping off the couch giddily, I needed to get out into the fresh air. We walked out of the apartment and into the night air, softly lit with the last remaining glow the sun had to offer. There was a slight breeze, and the trees danced to its rhythm. I smiled, unable to contain the happiness stirring inside of me. Like any vampire, I absolutely loved the nighttime. The shadows that played in the corners of your vision, mixed with the hum of others basking in the night air. Bats gliding gracefully in the air, silent as the darkness around them. Pulling myself from my thoughts, I caught Matthew staring at me. His eyes full of awestruck wonder.

     We made our way over to a cute little restaurant and ordered food, sitting in the outside seats. Per his request.

     "How was work?" I asked, nibbling On the sandwich placed in front of me.

     "It was fine"

     We ate quietly, silently enjoying each other's presence. When I finished, I closed my eyes. A gust of wind crashing into me, it felt amazing. And I itched to be up in the sky, feeling the rush of the flight. The high it gave. I opened my eyes, his soft gaze peiring into mine.

     "Your so beautiful when you get lost in thought"

     His abrupt complement left me red and speechless, "ah," I averted my eyes, my gaze faultering towards the floor. "Thanks" I mumbled, unable to meet his blue gold eyes. My stomach stirred with the same weird feeling I felt the day before. We walked home, too flustered to speak. I noticed him watching me in the corner of my eye, his face in its calm stone stare. I could get used to that, I pondered to myself.

     We got home and I once again got ready for bed, this time entering the bathroom and changing into pj's. I layed back down into the comfy blankets and drifted into sleep, the events of the day still lingering in my thoughts.

@vigilantetendencies

#vampire #romance #writing snippet #long reads

[prurientpuddlejumper]

You’re a Mean One, Mr. Kneef (Part 2)

<- Part 1 | Part 3 ->

For @thatesqcrush​’s Naughty or Nice Holiday Bingo! Filling the Fake Relationship When Visiting Family square. 

Bryan Kneef x Female Reader

Warnings: Language. Holiday fluff. Bryan being the worst... but also hot? Horrible pet names. Nothing nsfw happens this chapter except Bryan’s mouth. 

2,900 words

The bluish LED headlights of Bryan Kneef’s BMW blinded other drivers as they cut through the dark on the drive to his parents’ suburban house. You ascertained from the hands-free call he was making the family hadn’t started dinner yet. Christmas was close to the winter solstice, so it wasn’t as late as the sky suggested, although you’d heard a hungry child screaming impatiently about having to wait for Uncle Bry.

“Uncle Bry,” you teased as the call ended.

He chuckled. “That would be my brother’s kid, Finn. My brother’s name is Timothy. The CEO of LogicFinance. You will say you’ve ‘heard so much about them.’ Let’s review.”

“Jesus.”

Sitting next to Bryan while his attention wasn’t on you, you lost yourself noticing things. The clean smell of his cologne. How sexy he looked—in a rich douchey way—in his tailored suit and expensive car. His long fingers wrapped around the steering wheel. That beard that made you want to scream, “Daddy!”

You could almost forget he was the asshole who held every paralegal at STR Laurie hostage with busywork unless you pretended to be the woman who dumped him. 

Until he started barking at you to memorize facts about his life.

“First, what do I have to know about this woman I’m supposed to be?”

He stared straight ahead at the road. “Her name is Sydney. So you’re Syd from now on.”

“Oh joy. Being called your ex’s name all night won’t be weird or anything.”

“You were the one who wanted to get out of work.”

“Whatever. I bet you already forgot my real name, anyway.”

He didn’t contradict you. The engine roared to life as he changed lanes before signaling and cut off the SUV he’d been tailgating for the last mile.

Your arms crossed over your chest. “How much did you tell your family about Sydney? I hope you didn’t send them any pictures.”

“Not much, and obviously not. I’m not stupid.”

“Just pathetic.”

He scowled. Before he could think of a searing response to take back control of the conversation, you asked another question that knocked him off balance.

“What made this one so different? We’ve been working together for what, a year? And I’ve never seen you upset over a breakup.”

“The sex was fantastic,” he answered too loudly.

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh yeah. I’ve never had a woman who could keep up with me—”

“Because you finish too quickly?”

“Cute. Keep it up.” He stepped on the gas again and your stomach lurched as he pulled off another aggressive passing maneuver in the right lane. “No one walks away from my bed unsatisfied. You could find out. A little reward for helping me out tonight?”

“Not in a million years,” you clipped, shutting him down, even though your wild, lonely, horny side that noticed his beard and fingers was beating at the inside of your skull. “You are going to keep it decent and chaste. Ground rules: holding hands. Kisses on the cheek. Moderate cuddling as the situation calls for it. That should be plenty to sell that we’re involved.”

“You haven’t seen me around women I’m involved with,” he smirked with a suggestive glint in the side of his eye.

“And I’m sure your parents haven’t seen you with a partner who isn’t just some bimbo you’re screwing, either. Cop a feel, and I end the charade right there.”

That comment, which was more insightful than you knew, silenced him. His suggestive side-glance returned forward to focus on the road. That look was back on his face again—the look when he ran out of swaggering bullshit to spew. Sadness. Genuine human sadness.

“She wasn’t clingy,” he said, voice a soft rumble. “Didn’t expect me to be her fucking boyfriend—she was the one who told me no strings.”

��You loved her because she was distant?”

“No. I don’t know. She did nice things, too—like ask how my day was, and bring me coffee. She remembered the way I like it.”

“That’s just basic human kindness, Bryan.” You sighed. “That’s actually… really sad.”

“Fuck you.”

“I mean it. You call women clingy for wanting to be close to you, and now you’re so starved for connection you think remembering your coffee order is a huge deal. Your secretary knows your coffee order. Hell, I know your damned coffee order you’ve sent me out for it enough times, even though—as I often remind you—that’s not my job. I’m sorry. Really. But maybe this is a lesson? That you actually have a heart and might want to try opening it sometime?”

“How the fuck is that the lesson? I open my heart, I get hurt. From now on, I’m only dating broads who disgust me.” His eyes lingered on you for a dangerously long time until you got the point and gave an annoyed grunt. His eyes returned to the road, corners crinkled in satisfaction.

***

Dinner was already starting when Bryan’s BMW finally pulled into the driveway of a large house on a private cul-de-sac. The porch was glowing with tasteful white lights and a wreath on the door. Silhouettes were moving behind the decorative glass set into the front door, waiting for you to get out of the car. As soon as you approached, the door flew open and you were hit with the smell of roast turkey.

“Bry-Bry! We were worried you wouldn’t make it!” His silver-haired mother threw her arms around Bryan’s neck while he grumbled with reluctant affection, hugging her back.

A rich oaken voice of the man who must have been his father said, “And this must be the famous Sydney. We thought we’d never get to meet you.” He shook your hand warmly.

Both of them were wearing hideous red and green Christmas sweaters straight out of a Hallmark movie.

“I can’t believe this one hasn’t driven you away!” Bryan’s mom teased, pinching his pink cheek as she did so. “We’re so happy you put up with our little monster.” She hugged you.

“Come, come on in. Let me take your coat. We were just starting dinner—you’re right on time.” His dad helped you shrug your winter coat off and hung it up in the entryway closet for you.

This was… bizarre. How the hell did people this friendly churn out a Bryan?

More shocking still was when you felt warm, long fingers twine between yours, and you nearly tore your hand away before remembering you had a “boyfriend” tonight. Bryan smiled at you sweetly, eyes soft and affectionate.

Yep. You’d fallen into some kind of Bizarro World.

Martha, his mother, led you both through the spacious house toward the dining room. “What do you think of our humble home?” she asked, pausing in the living room. “I keep thinking I should move that chair to the other side of the fireplace. What do you think? Would it flow better?”

“Uh, I’m not really—”

“Mom! We’re hungry,” Bryan snapped.

“Oh, come on, honey, let me pick her brain! It’s not every day we have an interior designer in here.”

“Bryan told you I’m an interior designer?” Your mouth smiled pleasantly at Bryan while your eyes stabbed daggers into his stupid handsome face.

“Obviously I forgot I mentioned it,” he smiled back.

You batted your eyes. Now the daggers were on fire.

“Well, what do you think? Chair on the left, or the right?”

“Well,” you said, “the symmetry with the fireplace is… balanced with the rich tones in the leather”—Martha nodded along attentively—“You know, I’ve been working all day, maybe we can talk shop later?”

“Oh! Of course! I’m sorry—Bryan’s mean old mom ambushing you the minute you walk in the door!” She flexed her hand into vampire-claws and playfully attacked your shoulder. “Aw, are the stuffy old adults embarrassing you, peanut?”

Bryan’s cheeks turned the brightest pink you had ever seen them. And this was a man who didn’t blush when telling a roomful of attorneys to go fuck themselves. You let out the first genuine laugh you’d made in his presence. You squeezed his hand.

“Honey-bear, I love your parents!”

***

The table was crowded with Kneef siblings, cousins, and their children and spouses. Finn, you guessed, was the youngest boy. And that would make the silver fox next to him Timothy. His older brother had the same bluntness as Bryan, but none of the cruelty. In fact, his entire family was so… normal.

Bryan’s hard edges were hardly softened in their presence, but unlike in the office where his cranky moods inspired fear, here they were met with boos and hisses and his cousin throwing a bread roll at him. The youngest kids mimicked this exciting behavior, and soon it was raining whole-wheat on Bryan Kneef.

You smiled and patted his hand and called him “dear” and made sure your mouth was full of turkey the moment anyone asked you about yourself.

Over the evening, you learned that Mrs. Martha Kneef put herself through nursing school after having her first child to support the family while her husband piddled around with his low-paying hobby in computers. By the time Bryan was born, his father was programming for a growing company, working his way up the ranks—back in the days when one could do that. By the time Bryan was ten, dad was the Chief Information Officer of one of the largest corporations in the country.

And so Bryan, the youngest, grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth, handed all the things his parents had worked hard for in the hopes that he would have a better life.

“All the child-rearing books at the time said encouragement was important,” said Martha, who was a little drunk on red wine at this point. She let out an exasperated groan. “This is what happens when you encourage too much. We created a monster. Didn’t we?” Her voice went higher as she pinched Bryan’s cheek again.

“Martha and I are so happy to see him finally settling down with someone.”

“Yeah, how’d you manage to find a girl who’ll put up with you?” Tim teased, punching Bryan’s arm.

Bryan stared back. Locked eyes with his brother. He took a deep breath. “How’d you manage to—”

Bryan then asked something too obscene to be repeated, which set the entire table screaming, and parents’ hands clamping over children’s ears (though not before an adorable curly-haired niece asked, “mommy, what’s a prolapsed rectum?”).

You should have been offended, or embarrassed to be attached to the guy wrecking Christmas without even needing to be drunk. But oddly, as hot as your cheeks were, you found yourself laughing. You were dating the most interesting guy at the table. He was so overwhelmingly charismatic—not necessarily in a positive way, but in a way that made him the center of attention in any room he walked into. And he was charming enough for people to keep wanting him around, even when he said things that... were probably going to scar those children for life. Not to mention the adults.

Reaching over, you cupped the opposite side of his cheek and forced him to turn his head to you. “You’re so bad, Bry. How do I put up with you?” You began affectionately scratching his beard like it was something you’d done to him a hundred times. “He’s just so cute, I can’t resist. Settle down now, baby.”

His mom gave a loud, “Aww” and Bryan side-eyed his brother, who snorted.

You were getting into it, mussing up his perfect beard in a way that was sure to annoy him later—but it wasn’t annoying him that was on your mind. It was more the feeling of that coarse but soft hair under your fingertips, the shape of his jawline… the way he was staring back at you, eyelids drooping…

“It’s really the beard I’m dating—if he ever shaves, we’re breaking up,” you joked, suddenly needing to crush the romantic mood. It worked. His family laughed, and Bryan scowled, catching your wrist to make you stop.

***

Bryan wanted to leave right after dinner, but his mother wheedled him to stay.

“We’ve still got your bedroom set up if you want to sleep here. Think of it—we could have Christmas morning together just like when you and Timmy were babies!”

“Ma! I couldn’t impose on Syd. She… has a cat.”

Great. More backstory to remember. You surreptitiously elbowed him in the side.

Bryan got his dominating instincts from somewhere, though. The big ask to stay the night was a tactic to make him give in to the smaller ask of staying for hot cocoa and holiday movies.

Bryan had yet to recover from your crack about breaking up with him and forgot to play the part of the affectionate boyfriend. While her husband was explaining the intricacies of a particular wireless security device to whichever cousins would listen, Martha casually sidled up and whispered, “You don’t have to be shy about PDA in front of us old people. We’ve seen everything.”

“Oh! Uh...” Your mouth gaped, unsure how the fuck to respond to that.

Bryan overheard it and rolled his eyes with a groan. “Ma!”

He looked so grumpy and annoyed, something about it made you kiss him on the cheek. Just to put to rest his mother’s suspicions! That must have been it.

Then Bryan was all fire again, his eyes glittering above a wicked smirk. He grabbed your waist and pulled you roughly against his arousingly solid body, covering your neck with wet, open-mouthed kisses. Oh god, hot. He was definitely only doing this to make his mom uncomfortable, and if you knew Bryan, he wouldn’t stop until she regretted meddling or he was fucking you on the stack of presents under the tree. So why was your skin too hot? Why did it prickle everywhere his hand wandered? Palming your curves, sliding down to your hips, lowering over the swell of—

You leaned close until your lips brushed the shell of his ear. “Watch your hands, or HR is hearing all about this,” you warned, then pulled away smiling.

Bryan smiled back. “Of course, babycakes.”

“You lovebirds! Keep it PG.”

He warned you in the car that no one would buy him keeping things chaste, didn’t he? Well, you weren’t going to be the one to blow your cover.

When you filed into the living room where the kids were already watching A Christmas Story, there was only one spot left on the couch, and an empty armchair. Bryan flopped down on the recliner, and you sat on his lap. His chest vibrated as he gave an encouraging growl, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“You didn’t expect me to sit alone, did you, honey-bear?” you cooed.

His hand moved to support your hip, cradling you close to him. The other hand covered yours, which was resting on your knee. It was just a performance, but god, his hands were so big and warm, and the gesture so remarkably soft. You let yourself recline back against his chest, and turned your head to inspect his profile—the greying at his temple, a strong, square brow that shaded such lively green eyes.

A fire danced in the fireplace, stockings hung up neatly above it. A tree in the opposite corner filled the room with a piny balsam scent. The whole scene felt so domestic. Bryan’s beard scratched the side of your face, the soft cashmere of the sweater he’d thrown on over his dress shirt making him a comfortable cuddle partner. Suddenly you could imagine perfectly well why someone might put up with him.

“So, Sydney, how did you meet Bryan?” his father asked. A few other prying relatives leaned forward, and you began to sweat.

“Oh… I’m sure Bryan’s already told this story,” you deflected, glancing at him for assistance. Bryan frowned.

“It was through a case.” His evasive answer only made everyone more curious.

“What kind of case?”

“A divorce case.”

A bark of laughter leaped from your throat before you could hold it in, and you had to quickly disguise it as the kind of nostalgic laugh you get from an inside joke. “It’s true”—you stroked Bryan’s beard—“I think he only slept with me as part of the victory, you know? Took my ex’s money, took his wife. You know our Bryan,” you giggled. You would bet money that was exactly how it happened, too. “It’s a major rebound for me. But it’s been working out. Bryan has this whole other side to him that people don’t see.”

He looked at you. The clarity of his green eyes caught you off guard, and you felt a burning heat creeping up the side of your neck toward your ears.

“Well, we’re so happy to meet you!”

“You dog, Bry.”

“Want to see baby pictures?”

The last voice was Martha’s.

“No.” Bryan said. “She doesn’t.”

Of your asshole boss? Why yes. Yes, you did.

“He used to be such a sweet little peanut.” His mother always seemed eager to stir trouble for her brat of a son. “Just wait until you see how cute he was in diapers.”

“No!” Bryan groaned, but couldn’t stop you from following Martha to the family photo albums.

He had no power here.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Tagged: @beccabarba​ / @caked-crusader​ / @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ / @thatesqcrush​ / @dianilaws​ / @permanentlydizzy​ / @mrsrafaelbarba​ / @madamsnape921​ / @astrangegirlsmind​ / @neely1177​ / @onerestein​ / @welcometothemadxxhouse​ / @stardust-fray​ / @dreila03​ / @tropes-and-tales​ / @the-baby-bookworm​ / @ireadfanfictionontheweekends​ 

(I also just tagged everyone who commented/reblogged the last chapter even if u didn’t ask so uhhh >_> lmk if you hate that?)

#Bryan Kneef #bryan kneef x reader #Raúl Esparza #raul esparza #thatesqcrush holiday bingo #moodboard #The Good Fight #My writing

[i-know-my-value-darling]

Supernatural stars reflect on the show's undying legacy

Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles, and Misha Collins discuss 15 years of fantasy, family, and flannel. 

"We only get one shot at this." Sam and Dean Winchester are surrounded. The monster-hunting brothers are standing on the edge of a cliff. They look to Castiel, their brother in arms — or is it wings? — but even he can’t help. One move in the wrong direction could ruin everything. After years of fighting demons, going toe-to- toe with Satan himself, and saving the world multiple times, they once again find themselves in a position of having to perform under pressure. But this situation is unlike anything they’ve ever dealt with before. All eyes are on them as they have one shot…at getting the perfect picture.

It’s a dry, hot August day in Malibu — when people were still allowed to gather outside — as Supernatural stars Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, and Misha Collins prepare for the last setup of their final Entertainment Weekly cover shoot. With a bottle of champagne in each of their hands, Ackles once again reminds them they get “one shot” to do this right. But if their characters can shoulder the weight of the world, surely these three can handle a photo. Read the whole story below

The champagne soaking is meant to be a celebration of 15 years, of making television history. Supernatural, the story of two brothers destined to save the world, is the longest-running genre show in the history of American broadcast television. (So old, the first three seasons shot on this thing called film.) What started as an underdog story, living its first few years on the verge of cancellation, has become an institution, a milestone to which other shows aspire. Supernatural not only survived the move from The WB to The CW after its first season — it’s now the final WB show left standing — but became the backbone of the now highly successful CW network. Over the years, the sci-fi series has aired on every weeknight, helping to launch shows including Arrow and The Vampire Diaries. The network moved it one final time, most recently, to Mondays, to help Roswell, New Mexico expand its audience. “Supernatural is a major link to many of the shows that we have successfully built to market,” The CW’s chairman and CEO Mark Pedowitz says. “Almost every one of our shows has had it as a lead-out or a lead-in.”

And to think, it all started as a promise to bring horror to television. After Supernatural creator Eric Kripke had finished working with Warner Bros. on 2003’s Tarzan series, he pitched the idea of a reporter who travels around hunting urban legends. As he puts it, it was a Kolchak: The Night Stalker rip-off. But when he realized the story would benefit from having brothers at its core, he started writing. “At the time, The Ring and The Grudge were huge hits in theaters,” Kripke remembers. “We said, ‘We’re going to take that experience and we’re going to put it on TV,’ and the initial goal was to be scary.” After Warner Bros. passed on his first, what he calls “uptight,” draft, Kripke had to reassess the kind of show he was creating. “I canceled all my Christmas plans and wrote that second draft in three weeks,” he says. “That was when the show got its sense of humor, because I was locked alone, over winter break, in my office. I couldn’t do anything fun, so I started entertaining myself.”

The show was still scary, but it was also funny and, over the years, would continue to evolve. Sure, you could say it’s a little bit X-Files — in its early days, the show often used the line “The X-Files meets Route 66” — and there were definite Star Wars influences (Sam and Dean were originally based on Luke Skywalker and Han Solo). But no combination of pop culture is going to perfectly describe Supernatural because the show has managed to do something remarkably rare in the age of peak TV, where audiences are so overwhelmed with content that an original idea seems foreign: It’s created a truly one-of- a-kind experience.

For starters, it’s a show about two flannel-wearing, beer-loving, blue-collar dudes from Kansas who for a good chunk of their lives traveled from cheap motel to cheap motel, paying for gas and greasy diner food with a mix of fake credit cards and money they earned scamming people at the pool table. “Almost all television is about rich people or, at the very least, middle-class people,” co-showrunner Andrew Dabb says. “The fact that we’ve been able to take this Midwestern blue-collar approach to this genre feels like we’re breaking the mold.”

But the mold-breaking didn’t stop there. Supernatural might’ve started out as a horror show with some snarky one-liners, but it evolved into some of the boldest, most experimental (and certainly strangest) stories on the small screen. “We’re a show of big swings,” co-showrunner Robert Singer says. “I used to say, with every idea, ‘This will be a home run or they’ll cancel us,’ but every year we wanted to do something really nuts." And when he says nuts, we’re not just talking about the episode with the talking teddy bear or the murderer targeting imaginary friends. Those are just some standard monsters of the week. We’re talking about the black-and-white episode shot like a classic Hollywood monster movie, or the episode that introduced Chuck (Rob Benedict), a prophet — who’d later reveal himself to be God — who was famous for writing a book series called Supernatural. That, of course, led to Sam and Dean attending a Supernatural fan convention as the show continued to redefine what it meant to inject a series with meta humor. And the swings never stopped. Season 13 featured a Scooby-Doo crossover as an animated Sam, Dean, and Castiel solved a case alongside the Mystery Inc. gang. And in season 14, after giving God a sister a few years prior, the show made the Big Man Himself its final villain. “I don’t think any idea, barring some production concerns, has been viewed as too crazy,” Dabb says. “Because we know that our fans are smart and that they’ll follow these guys anywhere.”

So long as each episode features Sam and Dean — and the occasional heartfelt talk on the hood of the Impala — the show can do just about anything, which is another reason Kripke had to rewrite his first draft of the pilot. Originally, Dean was the only brother who knew about monsters growing up, bringing Sam up to speed later in life. It wasn’t until Kripke figured out that they needed to be in this together that the series snapped into place. Because at the end of it all, they’re two brothers bonded by the loss of their mother and a life spent on the road with an absentee father. (It just so happens that their mother was killed by a demon and their father hunted them.) The familial dynamic — the irrational codependency, as the angel Zachariah (Kurt Fuller) once called it — is the most important part of the show. “The first inkling I had that we had something special was shooting the pilot,” Kripke says. “It was the scene on the bridge when Sam and Dean talk about their mother. It was the first time that you really saw their chemistry and their connection as brothers on full display. Because I’ve always said this show begins and ends with whether you believe that sibling relationship.” But Sam and Dean weren’t just the center of the show. For many years, they were the show.

Supernatural has never been an ensemble drama. For the first 82 hours of the series, Ackles and Padalecki were the only long-running series regulars — Katie Cassidy and Lauren Cohan briefly joined for season 3, appearing in 12 episodes combined. But Sam and Dean weren’t just in every episode; they anchored every episode. (They skipped table reads because there would’ve been only two actors there.) “I had many moments of not only questioning, ‘Can I keep this up?’ but an answer of ‘I cannot keep this up,’ ” Padalecki, 37, who’s been vocal about his struggle in the early seasons, says. “I borrowed strength from Jensen.” But even Ackles, 42, admits it was a tough job. “The 23-episode seasons were nine and a half months of filming,” he adds. “It was a lot of work, but I always came back to: I still enjoy it, I still like telling the story, I still like these characters and the people I work with.”

Not only did the guys stick around, they built a reputation of having created one of the warmest sets in the business, with a number of crew members staying with the production all 15 seasons. It all dates back to a talk Kripke had with his stars during the filming of the series’ second episode. “I said, ‘The show is about your two characters, and with that comes this responsibility,’ ” Kripke says. Padalecki remembers the exact setting of what he calls their “Good Will Hunting moment,” a bench in Stanley Park in Vancouver, where they film. It was a chat both actors took to heart. “We’d both been on other sets,” Ackles says. “We knew we wanted to enjoy it, to have fun with our crew; we wanted them to like us and us to like them and to have fun doing what we do.” It’s an attitude Pedowitz hopes bleeds into other CW shows, an attitude that launched an annual tradition where the CW chairman/CEO takes his new casts out to dinner with the Supernatural guys, a chance for the vets to share advice. “It’s always the most flattering situation,” Padalecki says, recalling a moment he had a few years back with the late Luke Perry, who was a part of the Riverdale cast. “Luke was sitting next to me and he was like, ‘What y’all have done and what we hear about you guys, it’s really cool to be associated with y’all in some way, shape, or form,’” he recalls. “And I’m sitting there pinching myself.”

It’s a behind-the-scenes legacy that’s perhaps just as impressive, if not more so, than the onscreen legacy. Collins, 45, who started as a guest star and the show’s first angel in season 4, has become the show’s third-longest-running series regular, and he still remembers walking onto set his first day. “When you’re coming onto a show as a guest star, it can be a little bit nerve-racking,” Collins says. “Coming to this set, it was an immediately different vibe. Think- ing about working on other shows in the future, that’s something that I aspire to bring with me.”

A similar reputation extends to the fans as well. Not only is the #SPNFamily one of the most dedicated fandoms out there, it’s also known to be a pretty nice one. (Not many fandoms can say they’ve helped launch a crisis support network for their fellow fans.) But their dedication isn’t just about seeing what crazy twist God throws at Team Free Will next. Thanks to fan conventions and social media, the viewers are just as invested in the lives of the actors. Supernatural’s not just about the words on the page, it’s about the actors saying them. “When you’re dealing with the public taste, there’s an alchemy of great writing, a great idea, and the close-up that’s required,” Peter Roth, chairman of Warner Bros. Television Group, says. “You need stars who you want in your living room.” And you need stars who want to be in your living room, and who, even after 15 years, care so deeply that they get emotional while taking photos in Malibu.

"It's going to be a long eight months," Ackles declares. Standing on that same ledge, an hour before the champagne shot, Ackles, Padalecki, and Collins walk away from a group hug after unexpectedly starting to tear up. It might be the setting — looking out over the ocean — or the occasion: their last-ever photo shoot. Or maybe it’s the fact that they’re almost a month into filming their final season.

It had been a question posed to the stars for years: How long will this show continue? How long can it continue? “Even my mom and dad were like, ‘When are you going to be done with this?’” Ackles says with a laugh. It was a decision the network and studio had ultimately put into the actors’ hands, and it was a conversation they’d been having for a while. Back in 2016, Padalecki told EW, “If we don’t make it to [episode] 300, I think Ackles and I will both be truly bummed.” But in season 14, they hit 300…and then kept going. While filming episode 307, they announced the upcoming 15th season would be the end, which will bring them to a total of 327 episodes when all is said and done. “[Jared] and I were always married to the fact that we never wanted to go out with a diet version of what we had,” Ackles says. “We wanted to have enough gas left in the tank to get us racing across the finish line. We didn’t want to limp across.” Padalecki remembers the moment it hit him — not the decision to end it, but rather the opposite. “We had that moment where he and I both realized that we didn’t want it to end,” he says. “It finally got to a point, ironically, where it was like, ‘I never want to leave this. I could do this until the day I die, and then if I get the choice when I’m dead, I’ll re-up!’ But you never want to be the last person at a party. We just knew. That’s not to say there haven’t been vacillations, but we all trust the decision that was made.”

Starting in July 2019, the cast and crew returned to Vancouver to begin filming the final season, but in March 2020, with two episodes left to go, they were sent home. For years, fans had wondered what, if anything, could stop the Winchesters, and now it seems we have the answer: a global pandemic. As sets closed amid social-distancing measures due to the spread of COVID-19, it didn’t take long for fans to start connecting the dots, sharing relevant GIFs from episodes that featured viruses, most notably Chuck telling Dean to hoard toilet paper “like it’s made of gold” before the end of the world in season 5’s “The End.” (Did we mention that Supernatural is also kind of psychic? In a season 6 episode, Dean calls Sam “Walker, Texas Ranger,” which just so happens to be the role Padalecki has lined up after this ends.)

When production paused, it all felt a little like we were living in an episode of the show, just waiting for Sam and Dean to drive up in Baby, open those creaky doors, and save us. They might not be able to do quite that, but the thing with the Winchesters is that they never stay down for long. When Supernatural is able to safely resume production, it will. And though there are only two episodes left to film, fans will enjoy a total of seven unseen hours, including the return of Charlie (Felicia Day) and a mystery woman who visits the bunker and, for some reason, gives Sam and Dean all the holidays they never got to celebrate. “She makes Christmas for them and Thanksgiving, birthday parties, and all that. It’s a very good episode,” Singer says, adding, “I don’t know when it’s going to air.”

That’s the thing—no one knows, not even the guys who took out Yellow Eyes, stopped Leviathans, defeated Death himself, and are supposedly destined to be the messengers of God’s destruction. But Sam and Dean do know the value of a good plan B. “Obviously it’s a horribly unfortunate situation we’re in, but the silver lining is that it gives us an opportunity to recharge,” Ackles says. “We had just finished episode 18, we shot one day of episode 19, and I was reading these two monster scripts thinking, ‘It’s like we’re at the end of a marathon and they want us to sprint for the last two miles.’ I feel like this almost gives us an opportunity to refocus and go into the last two episodes and hit them with everything we got.” Because when they do return to set, shave their quarantine beards, and step back into Sam and Dean’s shoes for the last time, they’ll have one shot at ending this thing…and they’re determined not to miss. 

Photos: Peggy Sirota for EW 

https://ew.com/tv/supernatural-stars-cover-ew-to-reflect-on-the-shows-undying-legacy/

#supernatural #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #misha collins #last season #season 15 #entertainment weekly #cover story #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #full post #SPN #spn family #new photo #new photos

[pagesoflauren]

Henry Cavill Vampire Anthology: Memories Bring Back Memories...

darkish!vampire!Napoleon Solo x reader

Warnings: not-fully-fleshed-out vampire lore, vampire-typical violence, angst, pseudo-blackmailing, mentions of trauma/parental neglect

A/N: So, played around with an idea and based it on this creepypasta. I had also read a fic with this idea with Harry Styles, but I can’t find it anymore. I hope y’all enjoy this 🤞🏽 

Your eyes sting when you first open them, the sight of the bright hospital lights making your pupils constrict painfully. 

You’re connected to various machines through tubes attached to your arms. You can hear the steady rhythm on the heart rate monitor grow increasingly faster as you fail to get your bearings. 

Somewhere in your subconscious you know you shouldn’t move so violently, but you do. Your arms thrash and tug at wires, causing the wheels on the machines to roll across the tile floor. 

Cool hands press against your hot skin. Your muscles move to cringe away from the shock until you look into the face of the person.

It’s a man; a beautiful stranger with blue eyes and perfect features. 

You must be dead. 

“Relax, darling,” he soothes you, the prosody of his voice a little sing-songy compared to others you’ve spoken to. You don’t know anyone who speaks the way he does.

“Who are you?” 

He looks so pained, his eyebrows coming together and moving upwards. His eyes drift down for a moment as he appears to collect his thoughts before meeting yours again. He runs his knuckles against your cheek. His touch is so unfamiliar that you lean away from it, though he acts as if he’s done this a million times before. 

“You’ll remember soon.” 

A lie, but you don’t need to know that. 

“I’ll get the nurse.” 

He reaches over to the space next to your head. The button clicks when he presses it and a white light above it turns on. 

He takes in the wild look in your eyes as you take in your surroundings, looking at spots behind him before scanning the rest of the room. Your breathing slows, as shown by your chest slowing but also by the audible sound of your lungs shrinking as your ribs close around them. 

He finds such beauty in the way your body moves in sync, how your heartbeat also loses speed. Your body temperature goes down, some of your warmth disappearing from him. 

You’re quite perfect, aren’t you?

Though, he made you this way. 

You foolishly let your guard down while walking home and unfortunately crossed paths with him on the verge of a literal mental breakdown.

Mortals use that term to describe when they’re under excessive amounts of stress and lose all sensibility. 

His kind uses it when their minds follow their bodies: dead. When their brains lose their mental vigor, they turn to humans to fulfill their needs. 

Most people don’t survive an attack from those like him. They are drained of their very essence. Everything that made them who they are, the experiences that shaped their beliefs, the emotions that arise when they navigate the world… is all stolen away in a few moments with a bite at the back of the neck. 

Others, like you, come out in better shape. A little disoriented, more recent memories lost but still many intact ones. Enough to allow you to still function, only less effectively than before. 

You were an easy target. Napoleon was ready to empty your little head and leave you a slump on the street. But your memories intrigued him. 

Your mother. Your father. A second man he can assume is a step-father. An empty road at night illuminated by passing headlights. Dingy living in the city you’re currently in, riddled with rats and flies. Tables filled with food while your stomach grumbled, seedy customers that grabbed your retracting hands, shady characters you pass on the way back home from work. 

Napoleon knows that life. On the run in strange cities, sneaking around, avoiding an entire task force created especially for him. He knows women. He’s certain he’s met every single type of them in the long time he’s been alive and has been around long enough to have met each type twice.

There’s one type of woman he actively tries to avoid, though. The type of woman that led to his heart shattered on the floor when it was still beating: the ones who need him; the helpless kind. 

That’s exactly what you were. It was clear there were things you were ready to forget. You needed a clean slate. He could help you rebuild your mental health, give you beautiful memories to hold on to. 

You needed him. 

The nurses were saying you had a case of memory loss from when you fell and hit your head, but your boyfriend was there to take care of you. He had all the paperwork filled out because he was the one that took you to the hospital three days ago. 

You were knocked out for three days. 

It overwhelmed you, but they reassured you he was your emergency contact. 

As such, after all the tests and brain scans, you were given into his care. His embrace felt foreign, but you didn’t protest when he insisted you take his hand as you walked to his car together. 

You twiddled your thumbs as he drove through a city you swore you have never seen before. You have an overwhelming sense of deja vu, something that rings a faint bell when you see a certain street corner or the unlit neon sign of a restaurant. It sounds when you pass a dilapidated apartment building with chipping paint and a rusty fire escape. You can conjure an image of what a unit inside would look like, hear the creaks of the floor, or the failing stovetop as you try to boil water. 

His house is out of the city, on a quiet street straight out of a magazine. The inside is neat and it almost puts you off. You don’t feel at home here. 

“How are you feeling, darling? You need a rest?” 

“I think so. I-I don’t remember anything, it’s a lot to be in here.” 

A gentle hand lays on your shoulder, turning you to a corridor. “Last door on the right. I’ll make you some tea.” 

Tea? Do you like tea? You can’t remember…

You’re startled by the light tap on your bottom that makes you stumble forward. When you look back at him, he’s heading towards the kitchen. 

The bedroom is fairly simple, with blue checkered covers you could expect from a man your boyfriend’s age. 

Taking a look around, you find your makeup on a vanity by the window. There are two sets of drawers and you assume the one next to the vanity is yours. 

Sirens are going off in your head now. There are no bells of recollection. 

You go into the bathroom, sliding the glass door of the shower cubicle open. 

It was the nicest shower you had ever seen, with a dark blue backsplash and five different showerheads. On the floor, you find products that are far out of your budget. They were the luxury items you saw in the drugstore that you would only hope to afford one day. 

You pick up the bottle of shampoo. It’s heavier than you expect, brand new. 

“Darling?” his voice calls into the bedroom. You hear the teacup rattle on a saucer as his footsteps draw closer. “Ah, there you are.” 

You put the bottle down and turn to face him. His large frame fills the doorframe as he leans against it, the cup and saucer looking so delicate in his large hand. 

“Why can’t I remember anything?” It comes out as a whine, but you can’t hold in your frustration. Surely, you’d have some memory of this. 

“You fell pretty hard, darling. I was very distressed,” he explains, placing your drink on the counter next to the sink. 

“But I really don’t remember anything. This house, the bedroom, the shower...I don’t even remember you…or what I called you.” 

“Napoleon,” he supplies. “You always called me by my first name.” 

You didn’t know his name until now. All the other women he’s known called him by other names, aliases. His name is reserved for his mother.

And now you. 

“It’s so much, Napoleon.” He sees panic return to your eyes. It’s the same look you had when he grabbed you on the street. You clutched at the arm that constricted around your neck, breathing weak utterances of “please” over and over again. 

“Maybe...maybe I could go somewhere, just for a few days. And if I rest, just, outside of here, I’ll have a clear mind and can remember…”

He looks down and sighs. He pushes off the doorframe and takes short, careful steps toward you. 

“Darling, I hate to tell you this,” he begins, tucking your hair behind your ears. His palms cradle your jaw, tilting your head back so you can look up at him. “But your memories won’t come back.” 

You blink rapidly in disbelief, shaking your head as much as you can. “But...but the nurses said--”

“The nurses don’t know what they were talking about,” he says gently.

You say nothing, staring into his beautiful face, searching for answers. 

“You won’t get your memories back because I have them.” 

“What does that mean?”

“Does your neck hurt?” 

Icy fingers touch the back of your neck, a jolt of pain shooting down your spine and your knees buckle. You clutch at his shirt to keep yourself standing. 

“Ah, it does.” He smiles, prominent pointed teeth glinting in the bathroom light. “Because that’s where I bit you. And I have all your memories, darling. Apart from the few that are still bouncing around that pretty head of yours.” 

You push him away as best you can, which isn’t very much, and back away. The glass door rattles as you come in contact with it, trying to create more space between your bodies. 

“You...you can’t be--that can’t be true. That’s impossible.” 

A bite on your neck? Something you’ll never get back? 

Vampires feed on blood, not memories…

“You came to this city to escape your broken family. Your father abandoned you. Your step-father didn’t care for you. Your mother was so blinded by love to see how you were neglected.”

The bells again. Bells are better than sirens, but not this time. 

“No.” You refuse to listen. 

“I’m here to keep you safe. You need someone to keep you safe. And you need someone to rebuild that little memory of yours.” 

The gears click in your head. You have happy memories of you and your mom. No man was there. He could be lying. 

But how could you know with certainty?

“How do I know you’re telling me the truth?” 

“I don’t know, darling,” he says, stepping towards you again. He leans down, pressing his nose to yours in an Eskimo kiss. “Guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out.” 

Permatag: @caffiend-queen​ @fckdeusername​ @lou-la-lou @bangtan-serendipity​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @lovemarvelousfics​ @rainbowkisses31​ @richonne4life​ @damnndeanndamnn​ @meetmeatyourworst​ @tinyplanet-explorer​ @vivien-1211​ @unknownmystery22​ @nerdygirl8203​ @xoxabs88xox​ @mariaenchanted​ @gotnofucks​

HCVA Tag: @october505​

Peeps I hope are interested: @searchforanotherway​ @threeminutesoflife​ @sapphirescrolls​

#henry cavill #henry cavill au #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #napoleon solo #napoleon solo x reader #napoleon solo x you #napoleon solo au #The Man from UNCLE AU #The Man from UNCLE fic #The Man from UNCLE #The Man from UNCLE (2015) #tmfu fic #tmfu fanfic #Henry Cavill Vampire Anthology #ficsofpagesoflauren

[cajunquandary]

A Beacon to Beasts

A Beacon to Beasts

AO3 Link (in the works, check back later)

Summary: While Dean is in Purgatory, he comes across some interesting monsters who help him through.

Created for @spndarkbingo​

Square Filled: Fornication

Rating: R (18+ ONLY)

Pairing: Dean x Reader x Benny

Warnings: Dark Fic. Canon level violence, SMUT (p in v, biting, anal, oral, dp, unprotected sex *dont be silly wrap the willy,* all the smut, also I might be developing a praise!kink here??), angst, traumatic memories. If you squint: suicide, Destiel, Denny

Word Count: 7600

A/N: Originally published in early 2017, this is a total rewrite with the tremendous help of @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ and @wonder-cole​. You talented bitches. I love you.

Lightning spider-webbed across the sky, for a brief moment illuminating every shadow across Purgatory. The forest practically hissed in the unwelcome brightness as the trees whispered amongst themselves. A crack of thunder caused a quake larger than you’d felt in the god forsaken land ever before. It cracked the sound barrier, bent the hellscape reality at all of its slithering edges, and sent a shockwave so powerful it nearly tore apart every cell in your body. With an eerie silence, darkness fell again, and as your eyes adjusted, you could see that the beast attacking you was fleeing the other direction from whence it’d come—no, not fleeing. It was chasing the impact. 

Something pulled in your chest like a red-hot meat hook, something that sent sparks of electricity straight into your brain and signaling an overwhelming raw need. You were familiar with such will-crushing lust. Your fangs were proof. But this… this was stronger than anything you’d ever felt before. It nearly drove you mad. You could feel your mind slipping, until you took a step forward, then another, and another. The more you walked towards the source of the prior disturbance, the more sated you felt. The more whole. 

It took weeks of fighting others like you and endless backtracking to find the source—a vampire and another beast. It was a bit like a human, but no humans could be in Purgatory. Whatever it was, it was intoxicating. 

Your body shuddered at the proximity of the delicious flesh. The warmth. You were merely a moth, drawn to a flame of your own destruction. Your head swam and you reached towards the man, but another fang sped from the shadows opposite you first. This was just enough of a distraction to pull you back from the brink. 

You crouched behind a half-rotten tree, only one eye peeking from behind your cover. The human barely had time to react before the fiend had him forced into the well-trodden packed earth. His fall was hard. Your mouth watered as his pulse quickened and echoed through your soul. 

The vampire accompanying the human sent the attacker’s head flying so closely that spattered monster blood landed on your hand. The foul stench drove you deeper into the safety of the trunk. You didn’t want to be next. 

In this land, the best way to survive was to stay hidden, quiet, so you decided to follow them for the first few weeks, being careful to keep to the shadows. The thirst for the human ebbed and swelled unpredictably. At times, it was all you could do to resist the pulse exposed on his neck, especially when the man slept. 

For days you tried to figure out what the other one was, who he was, but damn, was he a monster magnet. You’d been in pretty thick shit before, but never like this. Your cover was nearly blown a few times a day, but you were thankful the two were too busy fighting their own to notice you.

“Damn, man. You’re humanity is gon get us kilt.” The vampire wiped the rancid blood from his blade on the latest dead monster’s shirt.

“Yeah well, as soon as we find Cas, we’re getting the hell out of hell.” A human in Purgatory? How? No wonder there had been such a disturbance. He must have been pulled here by a great force--one that very nearly ripped the entire existence apart. 

“Hey brother, I’m startin to think the angel don’t wanna be found. Dean, think about it. Every time we get close, he disappears again.”

“Benny—don’t.” The human stormed away from the vampire. What was going on? A human and an angel? Things must be getting really messy up top.

The vampire, Benny, turned suddenly in your direction, and you closed your eyes, hoping the thick layer of leaves and thorny bushes camouflaged you well enough. It must have, because he merely shrugged and walked after Dean.

This night was the quietest it had been since The Event. It had been hours since the last monster attack and you were almost as exhausted as they looked. It wasn’t long before the men settled down into the dust and a pile of dry brush and began to lightly snore. Usually one stood guard as the other slept, but on this occasion, both must have been too far gone to care. 

You crept slowly forward, focused completely on the human. He was so beautiful. The creases of his forehead were reduced to fine lines as he slumbered, slow, tender breath fluttering across weary-pale swollen lips, freckles and mud mixed on his cheeks, hair tousled and bloodied, yet still so soft and shiny. His lashes twitched as he dreamed. You were only a few feet away now, beginning to feel lost in the warmth radiating from him, drunk in the light from his soul.

A sharp pain through your side interrupted your trance and you collapsed into a prickly shrub. Between gulps of agony, you could just make out that you were pinned to the ground with a rough makeshift javelin, reminiscent of a butterfly pinned to a shadow box as you’d owned as a human. You screamed in pain, and if you weren’t already twice dead, you’d worry about losing too much blood.

A pair of boots came into your view. “I smelled you days ago. I know you’ve been followin’ us. Why haven’t you attacked? You workin for someone?”

You looked from under your brows, straining to see if Dean was still where he had been, but found nothing. All you could do was gasp shallowly against the burning splinters. It had been years since anyone had gotten the jump on you like this. The bit of human that was left within you prayed that this was a bad dream, that you would wake in a moment in the gently swaying safety of the treetops.

The javelin was ripped from your aching side, and you screamed again as your organs smacked back together in the loss of pressure. The vampire threw you against the nearest tree. Through the pain that overwhelmed your ability to flee, you watched in utter captivation as the human secured you with heavy, rusted chains.

The latter bent close to your face, piercing green eyes a stark contrast to the caked mud and blood spattered across pale cheeks. “Now look, you piece of shit. I’m gonna waste you like I’ve wasted every damn thing in this place. But first, you’re gonna tell me where the angel is, and why you’ve been following us. If I like your answer, I’ll make it quick. If not… well, I don’t normally like the answers.” He smirked, tilting his head just slightly as if he was considering just how he was going to end you. 

You gulped hard knowing the human meant business. You’d seen him firsthand, the violence, the rage. All this man left behind him were wide trails of blood.

You were shaking now, feverish and confused. When had your fangs come out? You retracted them in an attempt to look less intimidating and more cooperative. Between gritted teeth and a gradual tunneling of vision, you managed to respond. “I’ve been tracking you since you arrived. There was this storm, and I’ve felt a pull towards you the whole time. I-I don’t work for anyone, I swear.” His gnarly blade pressed into the soft flesh of your throat now and panic was rising  and threatening to close off your throat if the blade didn’t do it first. “I didn’t even know about the angel until earlier today when I overheard you.”

“Well. I don’t think I like your answer.” Dean sliced deeply into your arm, which produced a guttural scream from deep within your core. The blade itself didn’t hurt that bad, but whatever was on it sure did. Benny walked away, knowing what was coming. Benny was a monster—Dean was worse.

“P-please I don’t know, I just know the light—your soul is like a candle in this endless darkness. I’ve been here for so, so long and you feel like home, like safety. I crave your closeness and I don’t know the details of why, but I couldn’t hurt you.”

Benny looked over his shoulder as Dean paused. Something struck a chord. Benny walked back over and pulled Dean slightly off to the side, almost out of earshot.

“Brother, I think she’s tellin’ the truth. We should give this one a chance to talk.”

“Why? She doesn’t know anything about Cas. She’s just another monster in my way.”

“And so was I. We were both human once. Let’s hear her out. She hasn’t even fought back.”

The fatigue and injuries caught up with you. Focusing on the thick red-black ooze streaming from your wounds, sleep was finding you swiftly with your head falling forward, blood-soaked hair in your eyes and chest pulled tight against the restraints.

Dean lifted your chin with the end of his blade, remnants of your internals still glistening on the edge. Your eyes followed the length of his arm to his face where he held you in an unwavering gaze. Those eyes were greener than anything in this world—more than the trees you hid in, the brush around you, or the sparse grass beneath your feet. 

You seized your breath and relaxed your tense muscles. If this was finally what wiped you into oblivion, it would be okay, as long as you could stare into those eyes. After all, you were tired of fighting. Your mortal soul had been tired in life, grown wearier after you were turned, another century had passed before you’d been sent here after a hunter took you out. The memory flashed by: how you sat there on your knees, glad to be facing the barrel of the gun after so long that you didn’t even fight. Had you known you’d end up here, you may have fought more to stay topside. But now, you faced oblivion, or so you hoped. This would finally be the end of the suffering, the fighting.

Dean must have read the all-too-familiar look of defeat and acceptance in your face. He lowered the knife, letting your head fall forward again, and caught you in his arms as the chains broke and clattered to the dust.

He leaned you against the base of the tree. You weakly gazed upward through hooded eyes, wanting to see past the leaves to the empty sky, but couldn’t. It was all grisly branches for a hundred feet up.

“Why were you creeping up on me?” Dean pulled your attention back to them.

Battling the unconsciousness that nipped unwaveringly at the corners of your mind, you whispered, “The ache in my chest… the closer I get to you, the easier it is to handle. I wasn’t going to hurt you, I just needed to be... closer.”

“And is this better?” He motioned to the foot’s distance between you.

“Yeah,” You half-smiled through gritted teeth, the pain from your side still throbbing. It wouldn’t kill you. Nothing in Purgatory killed a monster except another monster—usually by beheading. It still hurt like a bitch, though, and left you exposed and vulnerable like a wounded animal.

He pursed his lips and shared a look with Benny, who shrugged. “I’ll stay up and watch, Dean. You get more rest before it starts again. And I’ll watch you, specifically.” The other vampire motioned at you, an intensity behind his blue eyes you could identify with. This human was meant to be protected, no matter the personal cost.

Dean was soon asleep again, his back turned to you.

The earth supporting your broken form was anything but forgiving. But still, you weren’t going to waste time whimpering to yourself now that you were a part of the misfit group. “Benny, where are you from? How long have you been here?” You wondered aloud.

He eyed you suspiciously, pausing before he answered. “I ran with a crew out of Louisiana, but we sailed all over the Americas. Been here a long time.”

You adjusted your position with a grunt. Benny’s hand was already on his weapon. “Calm down, sailor, just tryin to get comfortable... I’m from Shreveport. Been here a long time, too. Only did about two centuries up top, though.”

“Well, I’ve got a few on you then, sister. Shreveport was nice. Rolled through there a few times.” The vampire chuckled at the memory.

Even still, your body had different plans for the evening, and if anything else was said afterwards, you wouldn’t remember. Rest was in the cards that evening, even if your mind protested. Between stretches of sweet nothing, nightmarish memories flashed by in haphazard, non-chronological snippets. 

There you stood, on the bridge above deep, twisting waters. Though the wind whipped your hair wildly, you could feel nothing. Not since the day you were bit.

Then you were in the shed on your grandfather’s land, centuries before, when you were young but still so old. Had you ever had a chance? And there were fires and anthills, guns and chains. 

Before that one could go where you knew it would, you shot awake. Benny raised a concerned brow in your direction, but you couldn’t face him. Not after that. Within moments, sleep took you once again. 

The butterfly pinned in the box. Such a stark contrast was that orange and red and blue against the green felt and the glint of silver pins. You would chuckle at the sight if you could. Tiny fingers traced the outline of the glass. 

Then you were on your knees. You didn’t even fight. This? This was the day you died… the second time. By the hands of an inexperienced young hunter who was too focused on fighting with his dad to even notice you there. I mean, he practically tripped over you. The boy looked tall for his age, hazel eyes partially obscured by choppy bangs and mouth pressed into a thin line. He hesitated too long. You’d cocked your head to the side, wondering if he even had it in him to off you, and you almost felt sorry for the kid. Especially when his dad saw. The old black-haired ass berated him, belittled him. Compared him to his older brother. A disgrace, he’d said. Nothing like him, nothing like Mary. When the boy could look you in the eyes, you gave a slight nod as if to say, “It’s okay, I forgive you.” Those bright hazel eyes morphed into the moon cast over a monster wasteland. 

By morning’s light, you felt better, somewhat healed, but mostly sore. You and Benny spoke all the while, learned your ins and outs, and caught up on the situation with Dean, the toothy leviathans, the apocalypse (again), the dick angels, and everything else Dean had filled him in on weeks ago. If you weren’t in Purgatory yourself, you never would’ve believed all this. I mean, angels? C’mon. 

Sure enough, Benny was right. Beasts continued to attack in waves. There were a few close calls, and not one would speak of the whereabouts of the angel Castiel, though a few tried to save themselves by spouting lies. Dean would see right through them. It only ever took one question. “What color are the angel’s eyes?” A few had gotten lucky and guessed blue, but Dean didn’t even accept that answer. You asked once, what answer he was hoping for. He only shook his head in response. 

There were times, though, when he would describe Cas to you in the quiet of night, and it was like listening to a lost lover. Dean gave in after some months and described the angel’s eyes as full of grace, blue, but slightly glowing. And not just any blue, no. The bluest blue you could ever imagine. The purest blue. He spoke longingly about things they’d done, things he wanted to do, wanted to say. Needed to say. You would close your eyes and drift off to him mumbling stories of Cas, the fondness softening his voice.

It was dark again and the almost empty end of a particularly difficult day. You’d all sustained serious injuries from the violent fray that only seemed to become more dense as of late. You and Benny would heal quickly, but Dean wouldn’t… and you worried for him, lingering protectively close.

The weary hunter screamed in time with the monster as he thrust his knife through its eye, his voice echoing long after the lifeless body crumpled in front of him. In a rage, he threw his weapon down, stalking over to a nearby tree. He punched, kicked and threw himself against the bark until he was nearly bloodied beyond recognition. Benny could only look down, powerless to help his friend. Unable to watch any longer, you forced yourself between Dean and the tree. His eyes were closed until his bruised fists struck soft skin stretched over bone, the unexpected change in texture catching him off guard. You winced against it but grabbed his jacket in both hands, balling your own fists into it to hold him firmly in place. Jerking him forward until you were nose to nose, breath and blood mixing, you growled, “We will find him, Dean. But not if you kill yourself first.”

“Y-you sound like him,” His voice cracked and his head fell to your shoulder. You could feel his tears, hot on your frozen skin. This world was so cold and it never ceased to amaze you how he kept his warmth. You held him tightly, even as his knees buckled and swayed. By the state of those green eyes, you could see resignation and defeat creeping up on him. 

You shared a look with Benny, and he knew, too. “I’ll keep watch. You make him rest, cher.” You’d come to learn that Benny preferred to keep watch from all the years he’d had to watch his own backside here. You’d survived in hiding, while he’d made a name for himself—a killer, like Dean (not that either of them ever wanted to be.) You had to give it to him, though. After all, you’d tried to fight off everything in the beginning, but it was too tiring, like living was. So instead, you learned to thrive in shadows and whispers, moving like a ghost through whispers of the trees.

You were grateful for the moment alone with the warm beacon of a man, though. If the electricity across your skin anytime you touched the human indicated anything, it was a confirmation of your heart’s longing. You kept him pulled flush against your chest, his heartbeat so strong that it reverberated through your body. You focused on the feeling. How many centuries had it been since you felt your own beating? Dean’s was so strong it could surely support you both, you thought.

With a groan, Dean pulled the two of you down into a horizontal heap. You couldn’t make out the details of his face in the dark abyss of night, but his heart rate had shifted notably, along with his breathing. His anguish was palpable and you couldn’t help but to take some of it on as your own. He exuded it, it leaked from every pore. 

Supple lips brushed against yours, and you closed your eyes, slowly guiding one hand to his back above you and the other through his hair. It was as soft and silky as you’d hoped it was. You pulled just slightly, allowing your nails to gently spread and retract in circular motions. Dean clenched, the softest sounds carrying on the thick night air. Smiling at the reaction, you carded through the messy spikes and repeated the measure for several moments before Dean crashed into you, with his sudden need matching yours. Every kiss grew deeper, longer, and your tongues began to wrestle gently but urgently between locked lips. He grabbed at you hungrily with a certain ease, unable to hold back anymore, with palms stroking openly up and down your torso, until they slipped below your core.

You both pushed and pulled, wallowed and rolled, careful of injuries but powerless to pull away, fighting to get closer. You helped him slip from his leather jacket, and he groaned into your mouth with a tantalising mixture of pain and pleasure. The sound made you shiver, and you hastily removed yourselves from worn and tattered pants, breaking only for a moment. 

“Shh, Dean,” you whispered next to his ear. He nodded, understanding that even in this embrace, you were exposed and hunted. But with skin on skin, it was difficult to keep logic and sanity at the forefront of your mind. 

Dean slowed his pace and shifted until you were straddling him. With a touch so light it tickled, he let his hands trace every angle of your body, until he felt the latest wound and drew back suddenly. 

“It’s okay,”  you breathed into his gaping mouth. 

“No, I-- I’m sorry.” His voice was feeble, desperate. 

Taking his hand in yours, you placed it back where it’d been. It was a small gesture, but the effect it had on Dean was profound. With both hands now, he clutched your sides so tightly, it sent swells of something delicious straight to your center, before rippling out to every nerve ending exposed to the cool air, and then some. 

Just as you began to give in, a rustle from only several feet away snapped you back to reality. You shot up upon bare feet, weapon already in your hand as you scanned the malevolent shadows for the source, listening and feeling for any shift in the air. Dean lay frozen by your feet, head still spinning in weakness and lust.

In a swift turn on the balls of your feet, you faced the intruder, ready for war. 

“It’s just me, cher. I heard something and wanted to make sure you two were okay.” As Benny took in the situation, he laughed softly. “Sorry to interrupt. I’ll be over there…”

With an annoyed frown, you allowed your stance to go slack. “Thanks.”

Dean touched your leg, leaning in to kiss it lightly before planting a little nibble at your ankle. You slipped back down next to him, gasping when he quickly found your neck and nipped along your clavicle to the sweet spot in the hollow of your neck.

He was shaking slightly under the strain, but lifted himself atop you. To help keep him steady, you placed your hands on his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his torso. With a grateful kiss, he traced his tongue across your bottom lips as he lined himself at your entrance. 

His tip sank into your soaked folds and his resulting keen made you tremble beneath him, itching for more. “Dean, p-please…”

“What do you want?”

You rotated your hips against his, fighting to make him move. “Please, fuck… Dean I need you. Need more.”

Your begging tore his resolve to shreds and he sunk into you, stretching and filling you like nothing ever before. Your back arched at the sensations as they nearly overwhelmed you, drowning out the hell around you and leaving only Dean. Your heavy breathing barely registered as you whined his name. A shallow shriek betrayed you. Dean placed a calloused hand over your mouth, and it only drove you more mad. 

As he bottomed out and began short but powerful thrusts, tears gathered at the edges of your eyes. Everytime, he hit that sweet spot. Everytime, you whimpered into his hand and dug your fingers into his flesh tighter. Everytime, he moaned in response. 

It wasn’t long before those slow, drawn out jolts coiled you so tight you could barely contain yourself. Dean could sense the change as you began to rub against him, allowing the friction to take you over the edge. Right as you fell off into a fierce and roiling sea of ecstasy, Dean replaced his hand over your mouth with his own, swallowing your choppy breaths as you twitched and spasmed beneath him. 

Still lost in the swell, you felt the hunter release and fall, spent, onto your chest. You managed to wrap your arms around him and held him steadfastly, not ready to let go. It was incredible to watch Dean unravel and relax for the first time. In fact, it’d just become your favorite drug. 

Unknown to the broken lovers, a pair of “gorilla-wolves” attempted to interrupt throughout the steamy romp in the leaves, but Benny quickly took care of them. The nasty things wouldn’t have gotten as close as they had, but the vampire had been distracted by the sinfully delicious sounds coming from the far side of the tree. He’d tried to ignore it at first but found his mind wandering. It’d been ages since he’d felt the touch of another being, and the want rose up in him, a fire in his stomach.

You panted next to Dean when he rolled to the side, your injuries far from mind in the lasting rapture from being one with the human. His breathing was still ragged, but slowing. The wound on the back of his shoulder had reopened. Begrudgingly , he let you patch it again. Once dressed, you fell back to the sorry bed of leaves. Dean nuzzled into your side and let out a pained sigh as sleep found him. You could’ve sworn you heard the faintest “Don’t let me die here…” fall from his lips. Your grip on him tightened. You’d get him out if it killed you. But first, you had to find that elusive angel.

It was another month of the same routine. Days and nights ran together. The closer you got to the angel, the denser the swarm of monsters was. Even Benny seemed to be on his last leg. You offered to keep watch this time. At first Benny protested, but you shut him down.

“It’s broad daylight out here. I can see them coming from far enough off, I can give you plenty of time to wake up and fight if I can’t handle it. Don’t worry.”

He didn’t feel like protesting too much, and finally nodded, sad blue eyes locking on yours in a silent promise of trust in comradery.

A few hours passed, and you stood to stretch. A twig snapped behind you, and you twirled quickly, your knife to Benny’s throat. His hands raised. “Sorry cher, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Nearly lost your fool head. Why aren’t you resting?” You dropped your arms and stood next to the vampire, staring out through the forest again, scanning. Listening.

“I rested enough.”

“Right, that’s why you have to use that tree to support yourself.” His lips pressed into a hard smile, electric eyes dropping to the ground. When he looked back up, something in them had changed. He reached towards you, hesitant, and brushed the wavy mess of hair from your face behind your ear, hand gently gliding across your jaw until his thumb rested on your lip.

You closed your eyes and shuddered under the vampire’s touch. It was more familiar than Dean’s. You leaned into it, following as it guided you into his embrace. He was larger than Dean and still smelled of the swamp and sea. The scent was intoxicating, dragging all of your attention to Benny. 

He pulled back for a moment and cradled your face in the large, thick hands of a sailor. “You okay with this? Don’t want you to feel pressured, darlin’.”

“Mm not pressured,” you smiled up into those spirited sharp blue eyes. You lost yourself in them, completely ensnared. You could see past them, to cerulean glittering waters, could feel the lapping of them against your old boat, hear the seagulls and crows chattering as they glided on heatwaves, taste the salt on your tongue. 

You stretched up on your tiptoes, craning to taste the salt on his lips, feel the waves in the way his tongue twists. Benny must have felt the same, as he met your parted lips in a feverish kiss, maneuvering you effortlessly between himself and the tree for support until he was rutting into you.

The touch was bittersweet and starved, driving both of you as you stripped away layers. Benny pressed into you until the bark bit into your back and arms. You knocked the hat from atop his head to get closer, to guide him in, and he responded by taking the thin flesh of your neck into his mouth. Fangs drug thin scratch lines over your chest and shoulders, followed by sucking kisses. Benny grunted as he settled next to your ear, the growing bulge in his remaining trousers becoming almost painful in the restriction. 

Sensing this, you moved to loosen the last piece of his clothing until it slumped to his ankles, all the while raw, needy noises spilled from your mouth. If only you’d found each other topside, things would have been better. You wouldn’t have let that young, long-haired hunter boy and his grumpy father kill you.

In one smooth move, Benny hooked his fingers into your jeans and slid them off, until you were completely free of them. With lust in your eyes, you found his full lips once more. You bit and sucked at his bottom lip until he was throbbing against you and whispering your name in short breaths in desperation. 

With a slight adjustment in position, he grabbed your ribcage and lifted you just enough to line himself at your entrance. Hungrily, you raised your knees and rested them on his sides. You dug your nails into his shoulders in anticipation, but he didn’t keep you waiting long. With a final shift of his angle, Benny slid into you unrestrained.

His pace was unforgiving. He was rougher, more desperate, yet somehow more controlled than Dean. Pain was something you both knew too well, and found pleasure in at this moment. Neither of you had to hold back in fear of hurting the other. 

Benny muttered a long string of praises as he placed his cheek on yours and relished in the fragmented breaths and mewls leaking from your gaping mouth.

Between the friction to your front and the sharp ache in your back, the intense set of his pace brought unwanted tears to the corners of your eyes. Before you knew it, he had you biting back a scream as you came in his arms, your back digging into the tree as he held you through it. You sank your teeth into his neck, drawing blood and pushing back the sharper set as they threatened to emerge. He snarled into your ear and released, standing for a moment, relishing in your closeness.

For a time, you just remained in that position as he softened inside you, foreheads resting fondly on each other.

Dean stirred, grumbling as he woke. With a silently shared promise to continue the embrace another day, the two of you straightened yourselves back out and rounded the tree to greet the sleep-starved human.

Over the next two weeks, the three of you grew much closer. Sometimes in between attacks, you took solace in each other. Most times it was talk, but when words were too difficult and your bodies needed to feel something… else, something primal and good and pure, they would pass you between them, never straying too far.

Benny's eyes would always drift and land upon Deans. It intoxicated him, pulled at his heart in ways that tore him apart. Deep green eyes, full of hope and goodness and humanity… something fragile yet unbreakable, much like what he once saw in Andrea’s. Just like Andrea’s. As much as he tried to put her memory to rest, Dean’s gaze would always take his breath, whether they were fighting or fucking, and the feelings that washed over Benny were wild and raw.

You ventured off to scout ahead one day, leaving Benny to help Dean walk after a surprise run in with a gorilla wolf didn’t fare so well. Those things sure liked Dean. Could you blame them? As you cleared the spaces ahead, you reminisced on the first time it happened. 

It’d started innocently enough, some kissing and tender touches traded between you and Dean. You craved comfort, and his touch never disappointed. The fading daylight illuminated something… different, something new in his eyes. There was a spark of acceptance? Resignation? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but for some reason the usually tightly wound hunter was relaxed. His movements were delicate and slow, a stark contrast to the usual quickie on the run. 

You nearly lost your balance when he stripped your pants away and traced deliberate sucking kisses down to your sweet spot. You’d had to catch yourself from falling over at the heady sensations, threading your hands into his hair and holding on for dear life (or death.) Within moments, Benny swooped in to support you from behind, snaking a strong arm around your stomach as Dean began to lick and hum and stroke you in ways you’d never felt. Your blood burned like fire, causing every inch of your skin to become more sensitive. 

Benny brushed the hair from your shoulder with his free hand, then took a fistful of it and guided your head back. With a contented sigh, he took your exposed neck into his mouth and you twitched violently between the shivers running down and the heat rising up. The contrast of Dean’s soft lips to the burn of his stubble mirrored that of the rough, blood soaked fabric of Benny’s jacket against the smooth of your skin… and it drove you mad. Your vision swelled with every wave and the sounds of the cursed world around you faded as if cotton had been shoved in your ears. 

Your legs gave way and you fell into Dean’s lap as he chuckled, watching you come undone. The orgasm hit you somewhere along the way down, untouched but wound so tightly that you couldn’t hold out another moment.

While you writhed against him, Dean held you securely to his chest with arms that crushed into your ribs and pinned your arms to your sides. Your head finally came to rest upon his shoulder, and as your senses eased back into focus, you realized that you were completely laid down upon his bare chest. Still buzzing from the high, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck and laid a small peck. Dean’s resulting smile stretched wide, and you could feel it there without even needing to see it. 

“You okay, baby?” Dean gently stroked your back up and down with one hand, and moved to tangle strong fingers in your hair to hold the base of your head tenderly with the other. 

When you found your voice, you muttered a small, “yeah, thank you.”

Benny kneeled beside you and lowered his face until your foreheads met, the three of you so impossibly close. “You up for some more, sugar?”

You smiled wryly and closed your eyes. “Yeah, I’m all yours.”

Though your limbs were but heavy gelatin, you managed to lift out of your shirt as the men undressed. Pulling Dean’s discarded coat over you like a blanket, you rested against a fallen tree and admired them. Dean was more slender, but faster and stronger. The way his muscles rippled and creased beneath pale, freckled skin reminded you of a swimmer--all lean and mean. He was graceful in every movement, like a dancer. Benny was a little more solid, built like a tank. Maybe he wasn’t as fast, but there was no going through him. You’d seen beasts hit him straight on with full power, and the vampire had barely flinched. Those fists could break anything, but his face was always… soft. Kind. Dean’s was hardened, but you couldn’t blame him. And yes, there were moments, like this, where the lines of his face smoothed, and some color returned to his cheeks. 

How you’d ever found Heaven in this Hell, you’d never come to understand. But you were ever grateful. Hopeful for a future with them topside, however it may go. 

Dean’s outstretched hand pulled you from your daydream. You took it, letting the jacket go as he helped you stand. As you stood, he continued to pull you forward until you were flush with him. He pressed a firm kiss to your scalp and rubbed his palms up and down your body. His cock twitched against your belly, and you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing just a little tighter at the new flood of arousal. 

Benny snaked his arms around you from behind, until his hands rested on your neck, not gripping, but just *there.* The weight of them naturally guided your head to fall back against his chest. He growled into your ear, “You’re so fucking beautiful. So good for us, cher.”

Your mouth fell agape and released a strangled moan as Dean kissed along your exposed neck and mumbled a steady stream of “You’re such a good girl for us, such a good fighter, a great companion.” 

With every word, a new fire raged through your veins. Your face burned hot. Dean’s hands wandered south, caressing every inch passionately. One hand found its home grasping your thigh right under your ass, and the other came to rest in your dripping folds. You bucked against the touch and right into Benny’s length resting between your cheeks. 

You whimpered, needing more, needing release. “D-Dean please, fuck. I need you. I want you inside me, please--unnghh.”

Dean teased your entrance for a moment more before the wrecked look on your face and the subtle, high pitched sounds spilling from you completely enraptured him. Benny nodded, moving his hands to steady your sides as you squirmed uncontrollably. With a swift movement, you were raised up with both of Dean’s hands cupping and spreading your ass until he lined up at your folds and let you sink down much too slowly. 

Pathetic cries filled the air as you struggled to maintain control, the stretch of him almost too much to handle and not nearly enough all at once. You shook and grabbed at anything you could hold with a flutter in your chest that threatened to make you implode. And yet, the intense feelings only grew. Benny planted himself and anchored with a strong arm outstretched and clutching to Dean’s shoulder. 

Dean bit his lip fiercely and let out a pained groan at the other man’s unyielding hold on him. His cock twitched again as he bottomed out deep inside you. The depth burned and ached, and with it your eyes came to focus on Dean’s. 

The emerald green was more prominent now, outlined by the hot blush beneath a spray of freckles. His brows were drawn tightly and jaw slack, full, pink lips parted in bliss. His breathing was erratic, and with every intake of cool evening air, Dean trembled. 

You mewled and whined, shifted against them, desperate for friction. The slightest broken smile graced the hunter’s face and he nodded, knowing but not yet ready. 

Tears already began to gather as you fought the urge to physically fight the men into submission, to finally scratch that itch. Benny didn’t leave you waiting much longer though, before he was slipping and pushing into place in your ass. The deliberate burn of him spreading you open opposite Dean left you thrashing between them. 

Dean took a deep breath in as a reminder for you to do the same. If it weren’t for him grounding you and helping you through, the black void would’ve already sucked you in as another victim. You did your best to relax and bore down, allowing Benny to fill your other hole completely to his base. 

The vampire grimaced through his own keening, the tightness of you nearly sending him over the edge right there and then. You stilled between them, already on the verge of destruction as the three of you adjusted to the new feelings washing over you in waves. 

Dean’s lips found yours, open and wanting. Taking his tongue hungrily into your mouth, you sucked and fell absolutely limp as he sucked your lower lip between his. The scent of him was utterly intoxicating, and you were ready once more. 

Benny began to move in tandem with Dean. With every movement of the both of them against your thin membrane, a wailing cry seeped between your clenched teeth. Benny was now clutching both of Dean’s shoulders so tightly that were white bloodless patches beneath each of his fingertips. This made Dean buck harder until the hunter’s eyes shut tightly and left his head bobbing backwards in lust. 

The symphony of your cries was lost beneath those of the two men, who shuddered and swayed. The sweet, sinful music flooded your mind and sent you reeling over the edge once more, clenching and swearing and falling against Benny’s outstretched arm. 

Dean’s thrusts faltered as his stuttered, “I’m.. I’m about to--”

“Just let go, brother,” Benny encouraged. 

It was the only confirmation Dean needed before his load spilled into you, sending renewed longing to your stomach as he pulsed inside you. “Fuck Dean,.. You feel so good,” you managed.

Benny came seconds later, and you relished in the full warmth of them. 

You smiled to yourself as the familiar electricity flooded your veins and leaked to your core. It may have been the first time, but every time since had only been… better. Impossibly, incredibly better. 

Upon your return, you noticed that Dean had found new strength.

“We’re closer than ever to Cas, he’s three days away by the river. We’re almost done! We can go home!” Dean was grinning widely, a spark finally back in his tired eyes.

You smiled, scooping him into a rough embrace. If Dean was happy, you were happy. Benny joined you in the bear hug. You were so ready to be topside again, and now, it was so close you could just taste it.

Your second chance.

With a start, Benny hollered and let go, leaving Dean tense and alert in your arms. Then, he threw you to the side as a beast attacked. Its whole face morphed into a shark-tooth ringed mouth, and you grimaced.

Leviathan. You must’ve been really close to that angel.

You drew your weapon as one engaged you, swung and lopped its head off easily after years of practice, until something glinting and sharp emerged where it should not have been.

You looked down, the blade bloodied and protruding through your chest, through your lungs. Unable to draw a breath, you fell to your knees.

“No!” Both Benny and Dean were yelling, voices echoing through the hostile forest. Black ooze covered them from the slain monsters. You looked up as your assailant withdrew the sizable knife from your back and placed it against your neck. It was another vampire. You looked back to the boys.

“You killed our sister, so now we’re gonna kill yours,” the voice behind you teased in a sing-songy tone. More boots shuffled into your line of view.

Benny looked absolutely broken as he charged, extra teeth bared sharply in defiance. Dean bounded to you, holding your gaze with those emerald green eyes as he expertly dodged the advances of his adversaries.

Once again, your breath was seized and you relaxed your tense muscles. If this was finally what wiped you into oblivion, it would be okay, as long as you could stare into the comforting depths of that hunter’s eyes. After all, you were tired of fighting…This would finally be the end of the suffering. To oblivion. The warmth from Dean’s soul flooded over you as he got closer, but it was too late.

Your head rolled from your body. 

Dean decimated the group of vampires in record time, the rage fully restored and urging his body forward against all odds. Once again, the hunter had become more vicious than any monster in the land. In two days, he would limp to the river and find his angel.

You, however, woke on the other side of Purgatory. Oblivion was not something that would ever come for you. There would never be a release. Despair, overcoming any hope you ever had, creeped its dark tendrils through your entire being and swiped your feet from underneath you. So that’s what happens to monsters who die in monster heaven… they get respawned and zapped to another part. Great. You were stuck in hell, too far away now to reach them in time. One day you would find a way out. You had to. But first, you would have to find the strength. Strength you may never have again. You curled into a ball, mind silent as you gave into the feeling, a single, small tear streaking a thin line from your eye into the dust. 

You were alone. Again. 

Your second chance gone along with the human and his friends.

 This was my second attempt at writing smut and maybe I got carried away??

WAYWARD PEEPS:

@carryonmywaywardcaptain​ @manawhaat @supernatural-jackles​ @jensen-jarpad @wheresthekillswitch​ @bummblebeeblue @nothin-after-79-blog​ @docharleythegeekqueen @fangirl-writing-fiction @inmysparetime0​ @impala-dreamer​ @arryn-nyxx​ @idk-life01 @attorneyl​ @deathtonormalcy56​ @xwing-baby​ @wonder-cole​ @itsangelpie-supports​ @thinkinghardhardlythinkingogblog​@icecream-and-gadreel

ANGST BABES:

@trexrambling​ @abbessolute @emptywithout​

ALL ABOUT THAT DEAN:

@akshi8278​ @will-winchester

#spndarkbingo #2020-21 #beacon to beasts #dean x reader #benny x reader #dean x reader x benny #smut #read the warnings #chris writes sometimes #supernatural #spn fanfic #spn smut #dean smut #benny smut #dean winchester x you #benny lafitte