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eternalsimp · 3 years

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Cursed Fears (pt 2)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Smut

Word Count: 3703

Warnings: NSFW 18+, Aged up Megumi, mentions of violence, character death, swearing, use of female pronouns and anatomy, angst, slight praise kink, oral sex (f. receiving) Minors DNI.

Author Note: This is a sequel but it can be read as a stand-alone. pt 1 is up on my blog and pt 3 will be posted soon.

Megumi’s POV

Everything was dark and the smell of blood was overwhelming. I couldn’t tell where I was exactly, I knew I was in the domain of a special grade but I was sure I had gone home to y/n. Nobara, Yuji, and I had exorcised a second-grade curse and had called it a night. So where did this domain come from? How did I get here? I could swear I could hear thunder crack every now and then, but I can’t even remember if there was a storm when I was here with Yuji and Nobara. Where was Gojo when I needed him? I stumbled through the darkness blindly before I was met with a sight that made my heart drop.

Sukuna sat lazily on his throne, his red eyes trained on me in a predatory glare, sharp nails tapping impatiently on his temple. “It's about time you showed up, I thought I was going to have my fun without you. Now that you’re here, we can continue.” Sukuna’s mouth pulled into a sinister grin as I stared at the limp figure at the foot of his throne.

“Y/n…” her name came out as barely a whisper, my throat felt like it was closing up. She was at home studying for her statistics class, I know she was. I shook my head violently before pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes. This isn’t real.

“What’s wrong little sorcerer? Not feeling so tough anymore are you? You were so confident you could take me on earlier, so come on, take her back. Until you do I may have to play with her a little bit more, show her that she was never safe from me.” Sukuna reached down and pulled her unconscious body up into his lap. He held her jaw with one hand and turned her face so I could see. I wanted to scream at him not to touch her, or to hurt me instead, but nothing came out. Every part of my body was frozen in place at the sight of her tortured body. Sukuna could see me struggling in his domain and smirked down at me. He slowly dragged his mouth up her throat and to the shell of her ear. “Time to wake up princess, our guest is here.” Sukuna squeezed her throat at the same time he nipped her ear and her eyes flew open to immediately fall on me.

“No, please let her go.” The words finally came but I still couldn’t move. She looked so scared, the person I love most is in danger and I couldn’t do anything about it. I forced myself forward a single step but it felt like I was sinking into the ground. Why can’t I move? “I’ll do anything you want, but please don’t hurt her.”

“I told you what I wanted, I told you to come and get her. Show me just how strong you are.” Sukuna taunted. With a firm grip on my girlfriend's jaw and his other hand traveling down her body, Sukuna was in complete control. I know I can’t use cursed energy or shikigami here or I would risk her becoming collateral damage, but I couldn’t stand still and do nothing.

“‘Gumi, help me.” Her voice was shaking, her entire body trembling. I wanted nothing more than to whisk her away to safety. Her eyes squeezed shut as Sukunas mouth attacked her neck and left dark bruises in its wake.

“Time’s running out kid, I’m starting to get bored.” Sukuna’s free hand began to snake over her legs, dragging his razor-sharp nails over the soft skin there, leaving angry red scratches behind. Tears began to fall freely from her eyes and I tried to force myself forward again to no avail. Whimpers and cries for help begin to fall from her lips faster, and god I feel like I’m in hell. All I can do is watch as she cries out in fear, heart cracking at every sound she makes. Finally, she says something that makes me feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest

“You did this to me, this is your fault.” My body felt numb at the sound of her broken words. All I can do is shake my head and beg, beg Sukuna for mercy, and beg her for forgiveness.

“Baby it’ll be okay, you’ll be okay. I’m so sorry.”

“You said you would protect me, why did you do this to me?”

“I’m sorry, I’m gonna get you out of here. Please believe me, my love.” I was on my knees before the king of curses now. So close I could pick up on her perfume that smells sickly sweet of roses, but the smell I adore so much was tainted with something else now.

Sukuna clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You know better than to make promises you can’t keep, right?” My whole body was shaking with fear and rage at the curse, but all I could do was bargain.

“Please, I swear I will do anything, just let her go.” I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her, pleading to just see her leave here alive. Sukuna’s nails dug deeper into her throat, drawing blood as it trickled down her neck and chest in small streams.

“I think I’d rather punish you and the brat for trapping me in this vessel. You get to watch as I kill her, and then I’ll switch out with him so he can see what he’s done.” Sukuna leaned down to face me. “This is what happens when self-righteous sorcerers need to learn their place, so don’t blame me for what happens next.”

Fear shot through my entire body at those words. I couldn’t help but scream loudly as Sukuna jerked her head and a loud, sickening crack filled my ears.

I shot straight up in bed as a crack of thunder rumbled through the apartment. My eyes were unfocused as I dragged myself towards the bathroom and a wave of nausea washed over me. I barely made it to the toilet before I was vomiting into it. My knees burned from where they hit the tile but all I can think about was the sound of her whimpers and begs for help ringing in my ears. I was vaguely aware of the shirt sticking to me with sweat as I tried to control my erratic breathing. Thunder cracked again, sounding eerily like the way her neck snapped in my nightmare and I was retching again.

The cycle continued for what felt like hours until I was left coughing and dry heaving. As the panic started to ebb away I noticed the presence of my girlfriend on the floor behind me, running her hands soothingly over my back, and lightly pressing her thumbs into my spine. She had her knees on either side of my waist and was resting her head between my shoulder blades. I reached up to flush the toilet before gently squeezing her knee to let her know I was okay. She wordlessly pulled my sweaty shirt over my head to let the cool air hit my back before lifting herself off of the floor and out of the bathroom.

I shifted my body so I could press my forehead against the hard plastic of the bathtub. After a couple minutes, she handed me a bottle of water and pressed a cold, damp cloth to the back of my neck. “I’m sorry I woke you up,” voice raspy from coughing and throwing up. This wasn’t the first time I had woken her with my nightmares, and I doubt it would be the last. She reclaims her spot on the floor behind me and continues rubbing my back.

“Don’t be sorry, I prefer to be woken up by you going to the bathroom than you throwing up in the bed anyway.” I can’t help but laugh at her teasing and we could both feel the unease begin to fade.

“Yeah, that's a good point. You’re too good to me, you know that?” I moved so that I was leaning back against her chest and she wrapped her arms around my shoulders protectively.

“Nope, I refuse to accept that statement because we are the perfect amount of goodness to each other.” I tilted my head back to rest it on her shoulder before pressing a quick kiss to her neck. I couldn’t help but wonder how I was lucky enough for Nobara to introduce the two of us. It was in the small, intimate moments like these that I knew I would happily go to my grave protecting her.

Reader’s POV

“Okay you know the drill,” you said to him as you held out your hands expectantly. He smiled as he placed both his hands in yours, palm up. You pressed one of his hands to your chest and the other to his so he could feel both of your heartbeats under his fingertips. The first time you did this he scoffed at how cheesy it was, but over the two years of living together, it became common practice for when he was trying to calm down after a nightmare. You didn’t like to press him about the horrors that plagued his dreams, knowing how reserved he was with his emotions, so you found your own ways to comfort him.

“See, we’re both okay. Do you wanna get up to go lay back down or do you need a second?” He shook his head and pulled himself up to sit in front of you again.

“No, I’m okay, but can we do the other thing too?” he asked sheepishly. He turned pleading eyes towards you, and how could you refuse him when he asked so nicely.

“Of course, whatever you need. You or me?”

He took a shuddering breath before whispering “you” so softly you almost didn’t hear it. Your shoulders slumped as that one word told you everything you needed to know. The other practice that became a common occurrence after his chronic nightmares was kissing the other person's phantom injuries. More often than not it was him kissing you, as you were usually the object of his nightmares, like tonight. He liked being able to physically see and feel that the wounds inflicted on you were in fact not real. This nighttime routine often led to some heavy makeout sessions, which then led to very soft and intimate sex.

“Okay baby,” You stand up and move to sit on the side of the bed while he brushes his teeth quickly to get rid of the gross taste in his mouth. While you wait, you find yourself tugging at the bottom of your shorts self-consciously as you shiver in anticipation. After a moment your boyfriend waltzed out of the bathroom and rested his hands on either side of your waist. He bent his head to capture your lips in a slow kiss. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, silently asking permission to deepen the kiss and you happily oblige him. Your mouths move in a small fight for dominance but a firm hand on your thigh has him easily winning. Your hands trailed up to rest on his shoulders as he took your bottom lip between his teeth and bit down gently.

You gasp softly into his mouth and he brings one hand up to rest at the nape of your neck as he cradles your head protectively. He draws his lips down the side of your jaw, paying special attention to the spot behind your ear that never fails to have you melting into his hands. You tilt your head to give him better access to your throat, allowing him to deliver individual kisses to the spots where you likely had been hurt.

In a swift, fluid motion, he is pulling your tank top off of you and trailing sloppy kisses down your chest and stomach. You lean back onto your elbows as he runs his hands over your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You let out a shaky breath as he begins to kiss his way up the inside of your legs. “Just relax baby. I’m gonna take care of you.” He punctuated each word with a kiss or nip to the inside of your thighs, and you could feel the arousal pool at the pit of your stomach.

You forced yourself to make eye contact just in time to see a devious smirk grace his features. Before you could question it he is yanking down your shorts and blowing cool air onto your core. You yelp and instinctively try to snap your knees shut. He chuckles lowly to himself before tossing your shorts somewhere behind him. He brings his face back between your thighs to lick a long, hot stripe up your core. You gasp loudly and let your arms give out behind you. He reaches one hand up to where you are clawing at the sheets to intertwine your fingers together.

“My pretty baby is already so worked up and I’ve barely touched you. What a good girl.” He lowers himself back down to lap up the arousal dripping onto your legs before sucking your clit into his mouth. You arch into him and groan loudly which prompts him to hum triumphantly around the bundle of nerves. He moves his free hand down to expertly curl two fingers into you and starts pumping in and out at a steady pace. After a few pumps of his hand, he curls his fingers to find the spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

The combination of his mouth and fingers working you is dizzying and you can feel it pushing you closer to the edge of your climax. He could feel how close you were and began to move with more purpose, determined to make you cum more than once in the night. With the hand that isn’t intertwined with his, you reach down to tangle in his soft hair. “Wait, I- oh shit- I’m gonna cum.”

He removes the hand that was holding yours from you and brings his thumb down to rub circles into your sensitive clit. “Come on baby, I got you. You can cum for me.” He moves his mouth to rejoin his fingers at your slit to bring you closer to your high. A particularly hard press of his thumb has you crying out in pleasure and grinding desperately against his face. He removes his fingers from you and replaces them with his tongue to help you ride out your high. He greedily drinks up your release until you are weakly nudging him away.

“Do you want me to stop?” He looked up at you innocently, which was contradicting when you remembered the things he was doing mere seconds prior.

“No, I just want to feel more of you.” You could feel a hot blush creep up your body at the realization that he was still halfway clothed, while you laid completely naked in front of him. His brain seemed to process this at the same time because he was quickly ridding himself of his sweatpants and grey boxers.

His hard cock thumps softly against his toned stomach when he stood again and you were having a hard time not staring at the man in front of you. He wasn’t bulky, but the muscles that rippled underneath taut skin were nothing to sneeze at. He glanced up and caught your stare, and returned it with a cocky smirk. “See something you like?”

“I sure do,” you flashed an innocent smile as you sat up and palmed his erection. He gasped at your sudden boldness and leaned onto the bed for support. At this proximity, you were able to tug his earlobe between your teeth and bite down gently. “Please baby, I want you so bad.” Those words snap him back into action and he’s crashing his lips against yours again.

He moves you back up the bed and crawls over your body. He braces his forearms on either side of your head and experimentally grinds his hip against yours. You let out a soft “please” that comes out whinier than you intend. You lean your face up to give him a soft kiss before he reaches down to line himself up with you and slowly presses the tip inside. He shallowly thrusts to slowly work into you, mumbling praises against your skin as he moves deeper.

You can’t help but wince at the stretch his cock always brings you, which would border on outright painful if he didn’t feel so good. Your head falls back against the bed, clawing at his back to try to find something to ground yourself. He glances down to where he is buried deep inside you before pressing his forehead to yours. “I know sweetheart, it's almost there. You’re- fuck- doing so good for me,” he reassures as he presses a soothing kiss to your temple.

When he finally bottoms out he stills his hips to let you get comfortable and adjust to him. He takes this opportunity to pepper your face and chest in kisses and returns one of his hands to your neck where it cradles your head. You bring one of your hands to his hair to tug gently before rolling your hips against him, eliciting a breathy moan from him. “You can move baby, I’m okay.”

He nods and gives a couple of slower thrusts before setting a steady pace. He opted for slower deep strokes which made you feel every inch of him as he thrust into you. His thrusts have his cock brushing all the right spots inside you, and all you can do is gasp and moan for him while clinging to his shoulders. “Megumi, please,” you aren’t even sure what you were asking for. The pleasure has your head spinning and unable to make complete thoughts.

You can tell he is getting closer to his own climax because his thrusts are getting progressively faster and he is getting more vocal. “God, baby you’re taking me so well.” He hooks one of your legs around his waist and the new angle lets him hit your sweet spot with every roll of his hips. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you feel another climax approaching, and Megumi picks up his pace again.

“Is my pretty girl gonna cum for me again?” You bury your face into his shoulder and nod. He moves one of his hands to play with your clit to push you over the edge. You arch into him and let out a strangled moan as your orgasm washes over you. You’re sure you’re leaving deep scratches across his back as you grip him tighter. His hips stutter as you clench around him and he gives a few more sloppy thrusts before he’s cumming too with a loud groan. He unconsciously rocks into you lazily as you both come down from your highs.

“Are you okay baby?” He kisses your forehead and strokes your side to try and bring you back to reality. You nod again, not quite trusting your voice yet. He chuckles and slowly pulls out to not overstimulate you. You squirm at the uncomfortable stickiness between your legs but he’s already moving to the bathroom to grab stuff to clean you up.

When he comes back out he runs a warm cloth along the inside of your thighs and quickly over your center, which has you wincing at the sensitivity. When he's done he pulls out a pair of your pajama shorts and one of his loose shirts for you to wear. He helps you slip the clothes on and tugs his boxers back up before climbing back into bed with you.

You stand up to crack open the window next to the bed before laying with your back against his chest. The cool air from the rain seeps into the room and he mutters a “thank you” into your shoulder, surprised that you remember he runs hot for the rest of the night when he has a nightmare.

The clock on the bedside table shows that it's about 5:30 in the morning, so you estimate that he woke up roughly at 4. “Do you feel okay enough to go back to sleep?” You feel him shrug behind you and you scoot closer to him, pulling one of his arms over your waist to lace your fingers together.

“I don’t know. I should but…” you hear his voice trail off and nod in understanding. He always has a hard time falling back asleep on nights like these. He warned you about his chronic nightmares shortly before moving in together and confessed that he’s had them since he started high school at Jujustu Tech. However, you take small comfort in the knowledge that since living together they’ve gotten less frequent, and his reactions to them have become far less violent.

“Will you feel better if one of your shikigami sleeps in here? Just so you know that nothing will happen.” He considers it for a minute before tugging his hand out of yours, circling his other arm around your waist, and folding his hands to summon his divine dog. Its head pokes out of the shadows under the window. You pat the empty spot on the bed and it jumps up excitedly before laying down and letting you scratch behind its ears.

Megumi chuckles behind you and shakes his head. “You just wanted the dog on the bed didn’t you?” He reaches over to ruffle its soft fur as it dozes off.

“Checkmate,” you crane your head to place a kiss on his cheek before settling back against him. “Now will you please try to go back to sleep? I don’t want to nag you but realistically you can’t function on only two hours of sleep.”

“I’ll try but I can’t make any promises you know.” He tucks his chin on top of your head and relaxes around you. You hum in acknowledgment before slowly drifting back to sleep.

#fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x reader #jjk #megumi fic #megumi smut #anime #fanfic #megumi fluff #megumi x y/n

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captaincravatthecapricious · 3 years

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Things You Said When You Were Scared- Prompt Fill

Bit of an au after the worm attack. Jon is having a rough time.

CWs injury (canon typical worm related), paranoia, exhaustion. nausea, vomiting (it's not gross, I promise), pain, dizziness, fainting, medication mention, canon typical quarantine mention, food mention.

@janekfan @sukurarose92

Jon can’t remember the last time he felt this terrible. There probably had been other times. A few terrible flus over the years, and getting almost eaten by a spider once upon a time…. but time has a tendency to dull the particularly bad stuff, aside from say, flashbacks and nightmares. But it’s the brain protecting itself. You don’t remember the pain. You don’t remember the fear. You remember the memory of the pain, wrapped in spun-sugar-strands of time, growing dusty on a shelf. You remember the taste of fear, the gripping anxiety of it. You remember surges of it in the depths of the night and you panic… but you can’t remember it all the time. That just isn’t how the brain works.

Which is irrelevant. All irrelevant, because the pain medication he’s been given is wearing off. He thinks Sasha and Tim went off to do something….? Probably panic together about the fresh worm trauma. Martin? Jon hasn’t the foggiest clue.

Possibly because he’s hazy with pain and the last of the drugs that have been keeping him going this long. Staggering into the walls as he tries to exit the institute. Eyes closing involuntarily against the pain and the exhaustion. Limbs feeling so alien between the bandages and the aching, weeping holes they hide beneath them. Pounding dizziness down to his core.

He aches.

Phantom itching-crawling-squirming on his skin, through his muscles, down to the bone. The actual holes chewed into him.

He isn’t sure how he’s going to get to his flat. He can’t stay in the Archives, not with the police in the tunnels and the ECDC still doing whatever it is they are doing. But the thought of taking a cab or the tube make him want to tear his remaining skin off. Makes him want to just lie down on the sidewalk.

He even thinks making it to the front doors will end him.

He’s dizzy and sick and his limbs won’t carry him.

He has to sit down on the first step outside the door, sticking his head between his knees. He can’t do this. He can’t. He’s just going to sit here all night, or risk passing out or throwing up or risking any other horror of the late twilight consuming him before he can collapse into unconsciousness in the comfort of his own bed.

He waits for the world to stop spinning, and tries not to cry.

Because he can’t have more pain medication until he eats something. He can’t eat anything because it won’t stay in him, and even if it would, he can’t go anywhere. He’s stuck. Less than a five minute walk from his office where Gertrude DIED, from where he was attacked where he thought he’d be Safe, where he thought Martin would be safe. A few paces from where the dead worms were pulled out of him and he was scoured raw and sterile in a hastily assembled quarantine on the sidewalk.

He tries not to spiral into a panic attack right here.

Trying to pull his breathing under control, because it isn’t helping his tenuous grasp on the directions of up and down.

Where is the next danger going to come from?

Is this when Mr. Spider will strike? Letting him go until he’s weak and exposed and alone?

Or is this where some unknown (or known) hostile comes in with a grand betrayal and a gun. Leaving him to be another mystery, or a willfully ignored casualty of something he can’t begin to understand?

“Jon?”

Jon jumps. And very, very much regrets it. Heart racing, head spinning, a fresh hurt. A fresh reminder of every opening in his flesh that doesn’t belong there. “Ma… Martin?” He asks around gasping and shuddering breaths. “What …are you doing here?”

His voice is a little distant, a little hallow. “Don’t really have anywhere to do, do I? You packed up my flat. All in boxes at some storage unit. Now, my bedroom is tangentially part of a crime scene.”

“…Right.” It’s all his fault.

He needs to sleep. He needs some painkillers. He might need to throw up, but that is an issue he plans to avoid, if at all possible. Ditto to fainting. Although that seems a little more inevitable.

Martin makes no move to continue speaking. “So… your plan was to just camp out on this bench?”

Martin shrugs. “Dunno. Figured I might call Tim? At some point? Or try to sneak back into the Archives once the police leave? Can’t really afford a hotel. Maybe just sleep on this bench. Try to decompress or something. Jon. Why are you still here? Said you’d go home hours ago.”

Well he can’t exactly tell Martin he’d passed out in the break room for some indeterminate measure of time, then spent another eternity getting sick in the toilets. And then possibly passed out again. That’s not just something you tell Martin and expect him not to fuss over you. And Jon tries to tell himself that that would be suffocating and not kind of welcome right now. He tells himself that the thought of spending more time with Martin brings discomfort, and irritation, and fear. It’s not like he can prove that Martin won’t kill him. But he’s too tired to think about that. He just wants to sleep.

“....Um?”

Martin looks at him, probably for the first time. “Jesus, Jon. You look terrible.”

Jon hmmms in agreement. Not like he can argue. Martin’s too nice to comment on the bandages. A little too tactful. Right? Martin’s bumbling and stupid, but he’s tactful. He’s Nice. As irritating as he can be, he’s just so Nice.

But, it’s not like he can argue. He’s covered in bandages and a clammy sweat and he’s halfway into a panic attack and he can’t really walk and he just wants to lay down right here until the world stops moving. Both in the sense that he’s dizzy and in the sense that things beyond his comprehension are happening at a pace he can’t begin to catch up with.

“Can I... call you a cab? Or... or something?”

Jon shakes his head as much as he dares, which isn’t much. No cabs. He gets carsick. He doesn’t stand a chance.

“Well you can’t just sit there all night.”

“Right, like you plan to?”

Martin looks away.

And Jon goes back to trying not to pass out.

“Tim lives close by, doesn’t he, I walk you there? Or… um… carry you?” Martin’s trying to be tactful. Jon is pretty sure that is supposed to be a pointed look at his legs.

Jon scowls. (Not that Martin is wrong. There is something very wrong with his knee.)

“Can’t just …intrude like that. I’m sure he doesn’t want me around. Not professional…”

“Jon, you saw him in his pants today. You were put in quarantine together. I think you’re past all normal working relationship boundaries, even if he wasn’t your friend. I can’t just leave you here, and you clearly aren’t planning to get yourself home. Besides… maybe if he takes you in… maybe he’ll take me in, too.”

Jon stares down at the sidewalk, drifting in lazy, nauseous, out of focus movements before his eyes. “He doesn’t want me around. Not after taking Sasha’s job. Not after making him stay to get his statement.” Jon whispers at the pavement.

“Yeah like he’s still jealous for Sash, after that creepy worm lady went specifically for the “Archivist.” Whatever the fuck that means. And you know Tim was only pissed because he was in pain and tired, like you are now!”

“I should just go home…”

“Yeah, but you won’t.”

Christ Martin’s stubborn.

“Now. Can you walk, or do I need to cary you?”

Jon tries pull himself up to prove a point, but he comes to in Martin’s arms a few moments later, Martin loudly cursing at him. He’s in too much pain to really hear what Martin is trying to say to him. And he’s feeling even more sick. And he wonders where his prescriptions and paramedic provided cane have gotten to, but he really doesn’t really care, because Martin is solid and warm and he’s so tired.

He wakes up again on Tim’s couch. Sick to his stomach from the oppressive oder of takeout.

“Woah, boss. Not on the couch. I’ve got you.”

Throwing up nothing into the bin that’s been hastily shoved in front of him even though he’s got nothing in him anymore. He sobs around dry heaves until it’s just the silence juddering sobs. He Hurts.

He wants to hide. From Martin who is making tea, from Sasha running a bandaged hand through his hair. From Tim supporting the bin, and Jon himself.

He curls in on himself. Wills himself into unconsciousness, but the injuries pulse with each uneven breath, stomach still roiling painfully. He needs more medicine, but he can’t think about hoping to keep it down.

He sobs against Tim, as the bin is pried away.

“‘Hurts. Tim ‘m scared.”

Scooped up. Held, gently.

“Why didn’t you head home? Why not go right away so you could get toast and water into you, and sleep until you could take some more meds?” Tim holding him. Martin awkwardly sat by his side with ginger tea. Which Jon doesn’t care for, but Tim hasn’t kept mint tea since Jon stopped visiting. Still… it should help. Sasha clearing away the food smells, bless her. “Why did you have to take our statements? I would have invited you back here, if you didn’t?”

That last question doesn’t help.

He doesn’t know he’s tearing at the bandages until Tim’s tugging his hands away, and Martin is bemoaning the splotches of blood now decorating the bandages that are quickly becoming sweaty and grimy. Couldn’t even stay clean after he was scrubbed sterile. Martin and Sasha and Tim are spotless and scoured.

“I… I don’t want to disappear. I… do-don’t want to be found in the tunnels. I don’t want to vanish without a trace, I…“ He doesn’t even know. He can’t breathe. He’s lightheaded. He Hurts.

“Hey… hey hey. It’s.. it’s okay to be scared. Why don’t we get you cleaned up, okay? Then see if we can get some saltines and tea into you so you can get some meds, eh? Then we’re gonna all get some sleep.”

“I don’t want to lose you…” Jon’s voice swallowed by Tim scooping him up. Martin hovering with the bin and Jon’s bag of medical supplies.

Sasha’s back by then, brushing back Jon’s curls. “And you won’t. Sooner you leave, the sooner we can all get some sleep, alright?”

Jon closes his eyes, and nods, letting Tim carry him to the washroom.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tim stoker #timothy stoker #sahsa james #magnus pod #tma fic #cw injury #cw nausea #cw vomit #cw fainting #cw dizziness #cw medication #cw quarantine #my fic #my words #my art

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wyn-n-tonic · 3 years

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Golden, Like Daylight -- Part IV

Word Count: 1,925 Warnings: PTSD. Drug use. Ben Affleck. Panic attacks. Bullet wounds. Smut (not explicit but it's there). A/N: Your kind words mean literally everything to me and I have been sobbing between the warmth shown to me over this series and also how much I love Francisco Morales and want the absolute best for him.

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

Gif by: @uuuhshiny

Luna hasn’t stopped wailing since Sunday, the one and only day Frankie said he wouldn’t be able to call.

It’s Thursday and both their lungs are close to giving out.

One Morales woman hyperventilating herself into fitful sleeps, the other only sobbing through held breaths in stolen lonely moments of peace and quiet.

Kristyn had taken up residence in the spare room, making sure Leah slept and ate. She was the one who cashed in Leah’s sick days with the school, forging a bullshit sick note when she went into work.

Leah is currently distraught because her husband might be dead in South America, we don’t know.

That’s what the first one said, dashed out on the keyboard in a petty moment of frustration. She might be the only one of Leah’s sisters who didn't want to lob his fucking head off every time she shed a tear but it didn’t mean she never wanted to do it.

Patient is suffering from a prolonged migraine and intensive nausea. Follow up appointment scheduled for next Thursday at 9am.

That should fucking do it but she’ll have to start checking off the vacation days soon. Dip into family leave for Luna.

Alexa held her on that first Monday, talking her through the panic in a puddle of spilled coffee. The paper cup splashing across their knees in the hallway as concern emanated from the AP Lit room at their backs.

Somewhere at the base of the Andes, her husband was being pried out of a crashed helicopter by the only other men she’d ever truly loved. William was shot, Benny was reckless. She felt it all in her body as she was driven home, helped into the shower, held in her bed but not by the arms she craved.

“He's coming home,” Deana brought dinner that night, her big sister cutting into her steak like she was a child at risk of choking again, “he will do anything he can to make sure of that.”

“What if he doesn’t, D?” Leah’s taken on the stare, everything and nothing all at once, “what if he doesn’t come home this time?”

“I promise you, Lee, okay?” She reaches out to push aside hair damp with tears, “I've never seen a man so in love.”

“Yeah…” she’s quiet, “he promised me too.”

And she told him to stop making promises because he doesn’t keep them.

I think you put a baby in me, Francisco Morales.

The tears well over her eyes, spilling onto already salt stained cheeks.

He made love to her like it was the last time he would ever see her, the last chance he would ever get. He poured his entire being into her, drunk off the feel of their bodies together. She could feel him in the hollow of her ribs, an aching that called out for the comfort of his beating heart against hers again.

Would that be so bad?

She sobbed out, startling Luna’s own ragged cries again, afraid that she would never know warmth against her cold hands again.

—————

“Hey,” they're huddled against the onslaught beneath a barely-there cliff, labored breathing in tandem, “you still with me?”

Frankie’s panic attack came on slowly, a rolling storm in the distance the moment the helo crashed in the valley.

Bad landing.

His fight or flight response has his lungs in a vice grip but he still manages a laugh, “I think I should be the one asking you that.”

“You know it’s gonna take a lot more than a stray bullet to fuck me off,” he’s smiling but Frankie knows how much blood he’s lost, how long it takes for a wound like that to clot without medical intervention.

It’s true, it’ll take a lot more than a stray bullet to take William Miller but that was before, when they had back up. Out here, though? Surrounded by his brothers in arms? Having done what he just did?

Francisco Morales has never felt more alone.

“Fish,” William hits his knee against his, “where are you?”

His eyes refocus on the tepid water pounding all around him, the world coming back as he takes a deep breath, “are you afraid, Will?”

“You gotta be more specific, Frank, I’m terrified of everything.”

He’s quiet when he speaks, “me too,” barely above the downpour.

He sees Will nod in his peripheral, “I know.”

“Will, I’m afraid I’ll never see them again,” and when he chokes, he realizes he’s been crying.

“No, you can’t think like that.”

“I know, but I can’t stop it either, like…” trailing off, he lifts his face to the pressure of the water; it’s the sweetest thing he’s felt in days, “what if this is the last shower I ever take?”

“Fish…” Will reaches for him but he’s cut short.

“No, listen to me. If anything happens to me out he—“

“Nothing is going to fucking hap—"

“Shut up and let me finish,” his rage and sadness is burning hot through him, it takes everything within his being not to choke on air as he speaks again. “If anything happens to me out here, Will, take care of my girls. Please.”

The blond nods his head, heavy with exhaustion and pain, “until the very end of my life, Frankie.”

The relief that spreads through his body is better than any drug he ever tried, he feels himself slipping into an upright sleep, his heart at peace for the first time since he left his bed.

“But,” Will’s voice catches him on the edge of consciousness, “I would also face down the end of my life to make sure you see them again, do you understand me? If the only thing standing between you and a bullet is me, don’t fight. Leave me there and run like hell. You’re going back to your family.”

“But if I don’t make it…”

“Fish,” Will's laugh is drenched in the space between them, “are you saying it’s your last will and testament for me to marry your wife?”

“Fuck off,” his words are clipped, strained, “and don’t call me Fish.”

—————

They still, eyes up to the screen of the baby monitor as they hold their breath for another sound from Luna’s room. The baby settles back into silence, her small chest rising and falling on the grainy feed.

He remembers Leah opening the military grade surveillance equipment at the baby shower, the shake of her laughter as she held onto Benny’s shoulder to anchor herself to the chair.

“Should we check on her?” It’s small, a rushed question of a concerned mother.

“I said a baby monitor, Benjamin, not a prison security camera.”

“Absolutely not,” Ben grabs her hand, “This is better than any of that shit you’ll find at Target. Video means there’s no wondering either, you can just look up and assess the situation, more rest. That’s important, you’ll need to savor the little that you get.”

He pushes a lock of hair from her face, damp with the tears of the day and the sweat of the night, “no, baby, we don’t want to disturb her.”

“Yeah,” Will chimes in, his beer bottle held loosely in his hands, “Frankie should’ve been training you on sleep deprivation this whole time, you’re spec ops yourself now.”

“But what if she wakes up?”

“Well…” the corner of his mouth lifts to close the fan at the corner of his eyes, “it’s a good thing she can’t see us through that thing, right?”

“Francisc—“ the irritation of his name is finished in a heady moan lured from her body by another slow drag of his hips.

The crook of his nose slots against hers as he finds her lips again, the warmth of the room around them is nothing compared to their mouths on each other. Bathing in shared heat, her fingers entwine into the curls at the crown of his head, the other hand palm up to his chest. And as the beating of his heart races towards her burning touch, he submerges himself once again.

His firm grip holds the hinge in her leg, fingers digging into the sensitive skin that fills her lungs with fits of laughter and light. He braces himself against the bed, the aching in his forearm dulled by the soft, breathless whimpers intoxicating his entire being.

His voice is washed out when he finds it, “mi sol,” lips dragging across her own, “mis estrellas.”

Her eyes find his, heavy with admiration and trust. “Francisco,” she is drunk and drowning in the love of this man, “finish me.”

He shifts to cradle her jaw and as he trails his other hand up her thigh, he sinks within her once more. Finding his release against her own, he is convinced they’ll never be able to fully untangle again.

He presses a kiss to her nose.

My sun.

Her forehead.

My stars.

Her lips.

My whole sky.

—————

I think you put a baby in me, Francisco Morales.

He snaps back to reality, Santi and Tom’s voices echoing all around them.

His head is hot, he’s pushing past Will with concern set so deeply in his eyes he fears he’ll break right there.

Would that be so bad?

“Fucking bullshit!” Tom’s face is red, Santi having finally said what all of them are thinking.

He feels the weight of Leah in every fiber of his being, slotted perfectly against his body.

“We're all on the hook for this, are we not?”

I should’ve said no.

“God damn this fucking horse! Stop it!”

All those years blinded by loyalty to authority, Frankie never talked back to his leader but the man in front of him isn’t a leader. He’s a whiny child who’s lost his toys and Frankie hates him.

Biting back what he wants to say, he holds his hand up in a show of camaraderie, “Relax.” His finger quirks up as if he’s scolding a tantrum, “Relax. We’re not picking at the fucking scab right now, okay?”

Tom stares him down, like he’s weighing an argument against him too but Frankie’s done. He meets the taller man’s gaze, this man he would’ve died for.

“One foot in front of the other. Come on.”

This man he almost has died for.

“Let's go. Jesus fucking Christ.”

His true allegiances don’t lie to this man anymore or the gun at his hip. Not the money or the mules. He left that splintered fantasy about twenty feet back.

He’d throw this man over if it meant going home right now.

The money too.

None of it is worth a goddamn thing to him if it means he’ll never see the way that the light bounces off the gold in Leah Morales’ eyes ever again.

The same honeyed flakes in the brown of his daughter’s bright gaze.

I think you put a baby in me, Francisco Morales.

He made love to her like it was the last time he would ever see her, the last chance he would ever get. He wanted to pour his entire being into that woman, ensure that he would live on if lost to the Colombian jungle off a narco's bullet.

Would that be so bad?

He was scared but, truly, would it be so bad?

But it would be because he could truly leave her with nothing. No money, no husband, no father to her babies.

He lost count of the days he hadn’t called.

He makes his way up the mountain, following Tom’s bitching, wishing it was Leah leading him home instead.

#i believe in francisco morales supremacy #frankie morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #francisco morales #triple frontier #fanfic #fanfiction #santiago 'pope' garcia #santiago garcia #william 'ironhead' miller #benny miller #pedro pascal #ofc #oc #original female character #original character

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lilfellasblog · 3 years

Text

Tolerable

Summary: Virgil's been accepted by Thomas and the famILY, even after they found out his secret. But will this be too much for them to handle? Or: Virgil has endometriosis, thinks he has to hide it, and that works out as well for him as you think it will.

A/N: If you liked this, please reblog. It is the only way to help this fic reach a wider audience.

TW: Past bullying and harassment mentioned, endometriosis, menstruation, this is a sick!fic, painful cramps, unsympathetic dark sides.

Word Count: 2351

AO3 here!

Fic Masterlist here!

Virgil groaned and curled into himself. Not for the first time, he cursed the Mindscape’s sick sense of humor for not only making him the only trans Side, but also for giving him the period from hell. After researching his symptoms and checking in the Subconscious (he tried not to think about how he could see everything in there), he had discovered he had endometriosis. It certainly explained what he’d been experiencing. He didn’t even want to think about the number of tampons and pads he burned through. Alternating ibuprofen and acetaminophen could only take the edge off so much. The websites he visited suggested some, ahem, all-natural pain remedies, but Virgil was the opposite of in the mood when he was on his period. He felt tired and dizzy and light-headed and nauseous, and he always seemed to get migraines at the same time of his period because apparently God hated him personally.

He ground a fist into his lower abdomen during a particularly painful cramp that felt like his internal organs were ripping each other in half, and kept it there until the pain subsided somewhat. He wasn’t sure why, but pressing his knuckles into the spot where he felt the most pain seemed to help lessen the severity of that particular wave.

Virgil sighed, trying to figure out if he wanted to ask the others for help. He was exhausted, having dealt with this for a day already on his own. They’d all accepted him, including Thomas (thank fuck), but he didn’t know if they wanted to deal with everything that came with him being a trans guy. Yet, now that they knew, even though he’s dealt with this on his own before, being alone feels even harder.

What if they’re grossed out? They weren’t grossed out by me being trans, they seemed sad whenever I had even asked, but this is… yeah. I don’t know, I don’t want to push it. Just as he finished that thought, an excruciating pain ripped through him. He bit his knuckle and held his breath to keep from crying out.

“Virgil? You okay in there buddy? You missed breakfast, so I brought some up if you want any,” Patton offered through the door.

Virgil had to breathe through his nose to battle his nausea at the thought of breakfast food. “Thanks Pat. I’m good, just not feeling too well. I’ll be fine in a bit.” It’ll be manageable in a few days.

“Oh honey, I’m sorry to hear that! Is there anything I can do? Would soup help?”

Actually… “Yeah, I think I might be able to handle soup.”

“One bowl of soup, coming right up!”

“Thanks Pat.”

“Anytime!”

Despite his pain, Virgil smiled fondly. He’s too good for me. Before, if he’d shown any indication that he was on his period, the consequences would be more pain, some kind of humiliation, and a nightmare sequence courtesy of Remus that always lasted so long he’d bleed over.

Virgil rode out the waves of pain, unable to concentrate enough to follow Buzzfeed Unsolved, until Patton knocked on his door again.

“Virge? I have your soup,” Patton called quietly.

“Alri-” Virgil’s voice cut off as he was bowled over by a powerful tearing sensation that left him seeing stars.

“Virgil? You okay in there? Are you hurt?” Patton called, much more loudly this time.

Shitshitshit, I can’t let him see me, he’ll know I’m in pain and he’ll ask why and then I’ll have to tell him.

“I’m worried you’re hurt or unconscious, can you answer me?”

Virgil took a few deep breaths. “I’m here,” he croaked out.

“Oh honey, you sound like you’re in so much pain! Are you okay?!”

Since he wasn’t holding his breath, a pained keen left him against his will.

“I’m coming in.”

Fuck.

Virgil tried to uncurl his body, but he couldn’t find the willpower to counter the pain. As soon as Patton caught sight of him, he quickly set the bowl of soup (with crackers and cheese, Virgil noticed) on the nightstand and rushed over.

“It’s okay, I’m here. What’s wrong? You look and sound like you’re in so much pain!”

The worst of it passed, and Virgil managed to relax his body a bit. “I’m okay, I’m… kind of used to it.”

Patton’s expression darkened. “Did they hurt you again?” he asked, voice nearly a growl.

“No, nothing like that!” Virgil quickly promised. Patton sagged in relief.

“Thank goodness.” Patton frowned. “This has happened before? Do you have a stomach bug?”

Virgil thought about lying for a brief moment, but was too scared of accidentally summoning Janus to risk it. “No…”

He cursed when Patton’s puppy dog eyes came in full-force. “Is it something bad?”

Just as Virgil was about to hedge around the answer, he felt a telltale dampness. “Uh, nothing dangerous for us since we’re Sides, but I do need to go to the bathroom.”

Patton immediately scooted aside. “Okay! I’ll be here when you get back,” he reassured.

Shit. “Thanks.”

Virgil uncurled himself from his position on the bed, then carefully made his way to the bathroom. He cleaned himself up since he had bled over a bit, changed out his pad and tampon. Just as he was about to flush away the bloody water and toilet paper, there was urgent knocking at the door.

“Virgil, are you okay?!”

Virgil was a little annoyed, but knew to rein himself in. “Yeah Pat, I’m good, just about to wash my hands.”

“Sweetie, are you sure? There’s blood on the bed.”

OH FUCK.

“Um, I’ll be out a in a minute.”

Think think think think THINK!! Okay, what can I tell him? I could just fudge the truth a little bit, but that might be too close to a lie. I could just tell him I don’t want to tell him, but he’d be so sad that I don’t trust him and he deserves better than that. Shiiiiiiiiiiit.

Realizing he’d been staring into space, he dried his hands, then went out to face the music.

Patton was studying the comforter that had gotten stained, and looked up and smiled at Virgil as he emerged. “Hey Virge, I was just gonna wash this for you, is that okay?”

Virgil could feel another wave coming on. “Yeah, but you don’t have to.” Let me lie down so I don’t double over in front of you.

Patton waved him off. “Nonsense, you’re sick and I wanna help!”

SHIT. “Okay, I can help get it off.”

“Sure!”

Virgil frantically tugged at the comforter, while Patton calmly gathered it up in his arms. As soon as the comforter was off the bed, Virgil laid down and curled up, hopefully in a way that made it look like he was just lying down.

“Virgil, can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer!”

Virgil assessed Patton. Patton was looking nervous himself, biting his lip and eyes averting themselves.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Patton took a deep breath. “Well, I know you’re in a lot of pain, you’re not feeling well, you said it’s happened before, and there’s blood that you don’t seem too worried about.” He fidgeted uncomfortably, trying to figure out how to ask. “Is there anything I can do to help with… this?”

Virgil sighed. Of course he’d figure it out. “Honestly, the soup is more than what I usually get-”

“What?!” Patton cried.

Oops.

“Um, usually I just kinda deal with it on my own?”

Virgil kicked himself for the devastated look on Patton’s face. “Oh Virge…”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind dealing with it by myself!”

“I know, but you shouldn’t have to! And you don’t have to anymore!” Patton declared. “You’re in so much pain, is that normal? Is there anything we can do to help?”

“Normal for me, yeah, and I don’t think so.”

“Normal for you? Why just you, are you in more pain than other people who get periods?”

Way to put it on the nose Patton. “I-”

“What’s this regarding?” Logan asked as he walked in.

Patton didn’t close the door, shit!! “Nothing!”

“Patton seemed to be implying that you’re in a great deal of pain-”

“WHO DARES HARM YOU?!” Roman thundered, sword already drawn.

GODAMMIT. “NO ONE. Okay, Jesus Christ. Look, I’m fine, I’ve just got the period from hell. I’m sorry you guys found out, I didn’t mean to, I’m fine dealing with this on my own, I know it’s weird and-” Virgil cut himself off at the sorrowful looks he was getting. He sighed. These guys aren’t the Dark Sides, they probably don’t think it’s weird and gross and something I’m doing to them on purpose. “Sorry. Just, I have this thing that makes this harder, I can’t think of the name because I can’t think during this, and I’m fine. I’m just miserable for a week and then it’s manageable. This is better treatment than I usually get, and now I can at least get food. Just ignore me.” Virgil cursed God as another devastating cramp chose that specific moment to be an asshole. He held his breath, but couldn’t stop from curling in on himself. Concerned Patton noises could be heard, and Logan was trying to encourage Virgil to breathe. Roman just stood there, feeling helpless.

Once it passed, Virgil unclenched and took a few breaths. “Sorry,” he panted.

“Please do not apologize. Average menstrual cramps-” Virgil winced. “-have been shown to be at a similar pain level as a heart attack, and it sounds like you experience more severe cramping. If you wish to be left alone, then we will respect that,” Logan stated, agreements coming from each of the other Sides. “But there is still the concern of unusual pain. Do you require pain medication?”

Virgil shrugged. “Yeah, it helps me not lose my mind, but it can only do so much. I’m on the max dose for ibuprofen and tylenol right now, and I’m alternating them.”

Logan frowned. “This is your pain level even with medication?”

Virgil shrugged. “Yeah, it’s this thing that starts with an “e”… shit, what is it…”

Logan’s eyebrows shot up. “Endometriosis?”

“Yeah!” Virgil squinted. “How the hell did you know that?”

“I’m Thomas’ center of knowledge. Gracious, Virgil…” Logan trailed off. “Has a TENS unit ever proven helpful?”

“A what?”

Logan straightened up. “A TENS unit administers small electrical pulses to pain points or trigger points via electrodes placed on the skin. Research, as well as personal anecdotes, have shown them to be effective in combating menstrual pain. Would you like me to conjure one for you?”

Whatever, worst thing that might happen is it could hurt worse for a few seconds. “Sure, why not.”

Logan closed his eyes, and a few seconds later a rectangular device with a bunch of wires coming out of it appeared. “Would you like me to apply the electrodes, or would you like to?”

The thought of someone touching his bare skin, especially where he was in so much pain, still scared him, even though he knew these weren’t the Dark Sides. “I can put it on.”

No one said anything as Virgil rolled over to his side and placed the electrodes where Logan instructed. He turned back over, blushing slightly and feeling weird. He could feel another bad one coming on, and he hoped that this would work. Logan handed Virgil the unit.

“There are a few levels of electricity. Since this is your first time, it’s recommended you start at 1 and see if you need to increase from there.”

Before the next bastard cramp could come to do its damage, Virgil just nodded and turned on the device, bracing himself for electrocution pain. Instead, the cramps was… not as bad? It still hurt like a motherfucker, but it wasn’t as godawful as it could be. He cranked it up a few more dials, and the pain dimmed to a level he couldn’t remember ever feeling.

His eyes widened as he uncurled and sat up, jaw slack. The pain was still there, and he could still tell that his muscles were freaking the fuck out, but the pain was down so much he could almost ignore it.

So Logan just made my life about a thousand times better. How do I let him know?

“What kind of bullshit wizard magic is this?” Nice, REAL kind of you to say after Logan literally changed your life.

Logan just did his proud little smirk of his and drew his shoulders back. “No magic involved, merely science, and,” he adjusted one side of his glasses. “logic.”

Virgil sighed, still light-headed and dizzy, but the amount of relief that flooded his body without the pain was helping him feel so much better.

Logan frowned. “If you’ll excuse me, Thomas requires my help with a business e-mail.”

Virgil looked out through Thomas’ eyes and Sanders what the HELL. “Yeah, you’d better go deal with that.”

Patton waved his hand over the bowl of soup to warm it. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

Virgil fidgeted. “Not to be a stereotype, but I’m currently willing to commit homicide for chocolate.”

In the next moment, Virgil found his lap full of his favorite dark chocolate-sea salt-almond bars.

“I should probably go too, make sure Thomathy gets the tone of the e-mail right,” Patton said regretfully.

Virgil waved him off. “No worries, go do your thing.”

“I’ll keep our brave knight company!” Roman declared.

Patton said goodbye and sank out. Roman and Virgil stared at each other.

Roman broke first. “Soooo, friendo…”

Virgil sighed, putting Roman out of his misery. “I don’t usually feel like being a people, but this TENS unit thing is really helping. I’d be down to play some video games after lunch.”

“Sounds wonderful! I’ll get the game set up!” Roman sank out with his usual flair.

Virgil snorted and shook his head. Thank god for TENS units.

He flushed as he thought to himself, Thank god for famILY.

#trans!Virgil #virgil sanders fanfiction #virgil sanders fanfic #platonic lamp/calm #could be read as pre-romantic if you want #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders #unsympathetic dark sides

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supersickies · 3 years

Link

Summary: “Surgery was something that Peter Parker was used to. With his job, he really had to be used to going under the knife, and truthfully the more he experienced it the easier it got.

What Peter was not used to, however, were post-surgery infections. Of course, he knew that it was always a risk when going into procedures, but with the overly careful and competent medical staff in the med bay of Stark Tower, it was rarely something he had to worry about.

But nobody was perfect, accidents can happen, and that’s how Peter found himself in his current situation. Feverish, achy in more ways than one, and utterly miserable.”

Peter can't sleep after a surgery gone bad. He needs his Lukey...if Tony can figure out what that is.

A/N: Here we go @sicktember day five! I was pretty excited for this prompt but for some reason had a tough time putting something together for it that I really loved. But hope this fic suffices and if you read it you enjoy it! This was pretty much that last prompt fill I have completely completed for Sicktember but I’m hoping to get some more finished so I may be back with those, we’ll just have to see! Either way, hope you enjoy this fic! You can read it below the cut or on Ao3!

Surgery was something that Peter Parker was used to. With his job, he really had to be used to going under the knife, and truthfully the more he experienced it the easier it got.

But nobody was perfect, accidents can happen, and that’s how Peter found himself in his current situation. Feverish, achy in more ways than one, and utterly miserable.

His left leg, the cause of all his anguish thanks to an unwelcome bullet wound, was currently being elevated and his body was being pumped with an IV cocktail of anti-nausea, anti-fever, anti-pain, and antibiotic medications. Suffice to say, Peter was not just exhausted but he was loopy as all hell.

And he just couldn’t fucking sleep.

For some reason, despite his delirious and debilitated state, sleep would not come to him. So instead, he laid in his med bay bed with tears streaming down his face, as he begged whatever god there was above to just give him at least a minute of rest. The med bay staff, alongside Bruce and Dr. Cho, had been doing their best to synthesize a sedative for the spider-kid but they had yet to be successful, much to Tony and Peter’s disappointment.

Tony, of course, was by his side the whole time, and seeing his kid in this state was similar to experiencing his own personal hell. But he’d be dammed if he left Peter even for a second.

“Shh, Petey. I know bud. Just take some deep breaths kid.” He soothes the teen, just as he had been doing all night. It was nearing two in the morning and he had no idea just how much more either of them could take. He had tried everything from reading to the kid to making fucking ocean sounds with his mouth. Yet still, no sleep.

Peter doesn’t respond, just continues to moan and wail as Tony sighs. “Gimme something kiddie, please. How can I help you, bambino?”

Peter looks to Tony, his eyes feverish and hazy. He takes a shaky breath before finally finding the energy to murmur, “M-May.”

“May? You want me to get May back down here?” Tony asks. May had been down in the med bay with the two for most of the day, only retiring to a guest room in the tower after Tony had begged her to get some rest before her early hospital shift.

But even after giving his answer, Peter still didn't seem appeased. “No!” He whines. “I-I need Lukey.” He says with a sob.

Tony’s brows can only furrow. “Lukey?” What/who the fuck was a Lukey?

“Please M’ster S’ark, I need him.” Peter begs.

“Okay! Alrighty kiddo I…I will do my best to get…Lukey.” Tony reassures the boy as he stands from the uncomfortable med bay chair, running a nervous hand through his hair. “Just hang tight kiddo, I’m gonna figure this out.” He grabs his phone, quickly but quietly leaving Peter’s room.

He was gonna get this kid to sleep if it was the last thing he did.

Tony doesn’t understand immediately, but using the context clues he was given, he figures that if anyone knew what a Lukey was it would be May.

He could only hope that she wouldn’t be too pissed at him for waking her up at this hour.

The dial tone only sounds twice before she picks up. “Tony? What’s wrong? What happened?” She asks in a panic, ever the protective aunt.

“May! Everything’s okay! Peter’s…well, he’s um, still awake. I can’t really get him to calm down and-and I think I need your help?”

He can hear May flip on the bedside lamp and sit up. “W-What is it Tony?”

“Peter is asking for someone named Lukey? Something named Lukey? I-I was hoping maybe you know Lukey or-or can get him here at this hour? I just…he still can’t sleep May and I don’t know what else to d-“

He’s cut off by a snort. An honest to god laugh.

“…May?”

“S-Sorry, I um…” She giggles a bit more before continuing. “Yes, I can get Lukey here at this hour. Just…give me thirty.” She sighs, but Tony can’t sense any annoyance in it. She almost sounds like she’s smiling?

“I- okay then? See you in thirty I guess?” And she hangs up.

Tony doesn’t know if it’s the lack of sleep or what, but he feels absolutely crazy. “Still don’t know what the fuck a Lukey is.” He mumbles to himself, before heading back into Peter’s room.

Sure enough, after thirty more minutes of doing his utmost to calm the distraught spiderling, Tony hears May coming down the hall. He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding with the hopes that May and the elusive Lukey’s arrival will calm the kid enough to send him right to sleep.

May enters the med bay room quietly. And alone? Where was Lukey?

Peter turns his head to the sound of the door shutting, his bleary eyes able to make out his aunt standing next to him. “May.” He rasps, fresh tears spilling over his cheeks. There really wasn’t much that wouldn’t make Peter cry at this point.

“Oh, my poor baby.” She coos, her kind fingers pushing the hair off of his overheated forehead. “You’re having a real hard time, huh tough guy?”

Peter nods miserably. “I-I need Lukey, May.” He whines.

The woman smiles warmly. “I know honey. He’s right here, I got him.” She reaches into the tote bag on her arm and pulls out a small blue blanket with a silky trim. It looked old but ultimately well-loved.

Oh, Tony thinks. Lukey.

Peter takes the blanket eagerly and is quick to hold the fabric lovingly to his chest. His thumb rubs the trim soothingly. Almost like magic, the boy’s crying has basically stopped, replaced with soft hiccups and shaky breaths.

Tony looks up at May, puzzled yet…impressed. He holds his tongue, though, not daring to interrupt the moment or disturb the finally calm spider-kid.

After a few moments of hushed reassurances from May, and of course the comfort of Lukey, Peter is finally asleep. The room is now overwhelmingly quiet, and Tony takes a much-needed deep breath.

He glances at the blanket that is now wrapped tightly around Peter’s shoulders, before looking at May. “So, Lukey?”

“It was a gift from Ben’s mom— Peter’s grandmother. She gave it to him the day he was born. She passed not long after but…she loved him a whole lot, him being her only grandchild and whatnot.” She explains.

Tony’s heart clinches. He knew May was the only family Peter had left, and to hear about other Parkers just made Tony remember how much the kid had lost.

May continues. “He had a connection to the blanket pretty instantly, only ever really stopped crying when he was wrapped in it. It was the only thing that would put him right to sleep.”

They both look at the snoozing boy. “Still is apparently.” Tony jokes quietly.

May hums in confirmation. “We joked that this thing was magic when he was younger, but honestly I’m really starting to believe it.”

Tony nods, reaching up to touch the blanket softly. He had to admit was kinda nice. “And…Lukey?”

“Star Wars. Luke Skywalker.” May explains. “We all called it his blankey until he was old enough for Ben to show him A New Hope. It was Lukey from that point on.”

Tony feels a bit stupid for not realizing sooner, that goofy space movie was all the kid ever talked about.

“I should’ve known he would’ve needed it. Really wish I’d have brought it earlier.” May sighs tiredly.

“Hey you-you’re exhausted too May, please go back to sleep. I said I’d take Peter duty for the night and you have your shift in a few hours.” Tony offers.

May stands from her spot by her nephew. “I guess I should, huh? If you all need anything else though—“

“I’ll let you know immediately, May. Swear it.”

May smiles warmly. “Thank you, Tony.”

“Good night, May.”

She leaves the room, shutting the door softly behind her. Tony lets out a deep breath, giving Peter’s hair one last pet before deciding it was about time he retire to his cot in the corner of the med bay room.

As he drifts off, he thinks of his mother and the stuffed elephant she gave him when he was a young child.

He makes a mental note to look in the tower’s storage units, see if he can find it.

#sick peter parker #peter parker whump #iron dad #sicktember2021

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agent-cupcake · 3 years

Note

yuri with yandere prompt number eight? i feel like thats the most accurate for him

This ask is old but I’m never gonna quit these yandere prompts. Try and stop me. (aka, here’s 5k of unhealthy pining and Yuri “I want to confess my love but I don’t feel like I deserve you” Leclerc)

A sharp, frightened gasp was what pulled you awake. Terror gripped your thoughts as a memory overrode all rational thought —the scent of tread packed filth and chalky, tangy, sharp stone filling your nose with each shallow, bloody, gasping breath. Cold, cutting gravel scraping against your cheek, your scalp, the sharp pebbles embedded into your skin with the force with which you had hit the ground. You couldn’t move, couldn’t fight your collapsed chest into expanding for air to fill your lungs. Escape, you had to escape, that was the only real, solid understanding in your dazed brain as you struggled against the blankets.

But then you blinked a few times, your eyes rolling as you focused them, and realized that was nothing more than a dream. You were safe. Sore, uncomfortable, in an unfamiliar bed and wearing unfamiliar clothes, but safe. And confused, still entangled in the cotton fog of unconsciousness.

You had been… Where had you been? Your head was foggy, your thoughts blurry, almost enough to convince you that you were dreaming. If only you weren’t so uncomfortable. Something was wrong, more than just being sick. There had been… Blood? Pain?

Agony. A blunt, overwhelming ache that had slammed against the entire right side of your body when you hit the ground. A whine had escaped your mouth alongside a glob of bloody saliva. The pain was all-consuming. You could remember that in the same second the pain registered so did the panic of knowing that you were going to be sick right there on the street. Nausea had seized your stomach and you had been helpless to its violent, urgent, undulating undertow. Rocks cut into your palms as you wrenched yourself up to avoid choking as you sputtered and heaved and coughed out the acidic bile. When you blinked, your sight clearing from a dozen fragmented frames into a single dizzy, tear-blurred picture, all you saw was blood. Blood in the watery puddle on the ground, scarlet staining your side, oozing up between your fingers as you pressed a panicked hand against the slash across your ribs as if that would force the blood back where it belonged.

But there was no blood now. No wounds to validate that terrible living nightmare.

Everything came flooding back into your mind as your thoughts cleared up. You remembered accepting Lev’s offer to ignore Yuri’s orders and perform a secretive strike on an opposing gang. You remembered going along with the plan and taking the dangerous role of getting everyone into the Vanargand base despite the risk. You remembered nearly died in the escape.

You remembered thinking that you were dead. In that moment of laying on the street in a puddle of your own blood, you had clung to the pathetic thought that you didn’t want to die. Even though you already had, you didn’t want to betray Yuri in this way, too. He didn’t want you involved in any of this, he did everything he could to keep you out of it. He promised your brother, he made a vow. But even that tragic, horrible thought had become cloudy as cold disseminated ice throughout your body, piercing all the way into the marrow of your bones and numbing your limbs, pulling you closer into the creeping void. That was the last of what you could remember.

Now, the only remaining evidence of your brush with death was the bruised shades of puce plum and rotten currant covering the entire right side of your body. Someone had used white magic to heal the direst of your wounds. Presumably, the same someone who had saved you. You were pretty sure you knew exactly who that someone was, too.

Your hero.

Yuri Leclerc with his violet eyes and smiling mouth and sweeping, dramatic cape who came to you after your brother’s death and told you of the promise he’d made as his boss and friend. Yuri Leclerc, the nearly mythical Underground Lord, the unaging Savage Mockingbird. Your hero, your knight in armor of shadow and subterfuge. He promised that he would protect you. And he had saved you. Again.

With a soft groan, you turned from laying on your back to your mostly uninjured left side. The bed was comfortable enough, better than your own. The room was smaller than yours, however, easily lit up by just a single lamp. By all standards, it was far from lavish, but you were covered in a thick comforter with two pillows plumped beneath your head. The four-poster frame was made of an attractively dark solid wood that matched the bedside table, writing desk, and chair. It looked an awful lot like the impersonal room of an inn, although there were clear signs that someone lived in here. Books and paper and feather pens were stacked on the desk, a glass rainbow of bottles lined up on the shelf above, a colorful swath of clothes on the rack.

Most telling was the way that the room, the bedding, and the clothes you wore all smelled like Yuri. An intoxicating embrace of spring rose and lilac, plush amber musk, and heady sweet vanilla. Achingly familiar, desirable, wonderful. Now it just made you sick. While the previous day’s actions could make a case for your intellectual deficiencies, it didn’t take a genius to figure out where you were. You groaned softly, closing your eyes.

Yuri was going to be mad. You had justified following Lev before by telling yourself that if the job went off without a hitch, Yuri would be so impressed with your skills that he would have no choice but to recognize you as a member of his gang and stop coddling you. Now you realized that it was and always had been an act of petty rebellion. Yuri would never respect your reckless disregard for his orders and your own life, not even if it had gone well.

Which it hadn’t. You had no idea what had gone wrong, you had performed your task without any problems, getting the small group of men into the compound without alerting any guards. Your brother had done well in teaching you to sneak around. But then there was complete and utter chaos and they all came running back as the compound was eaten up by flames, your so-called friends leaving you stranded on the top of the wall with a group of Vanargand men. So you jumped.

Even your vague recall of that particular agony made you wince, your stomach churning unhappily.

The sound of someone outside the door made your heart jump, your eyes instinctually closing to feign sleep. Maybe if you seemed like you were sleeping you could spare yourself a lecture. Or worse, his disappointment. The doorknob turned, the wood creaking, the metal hinges making the faintest squeak as they were pushed. You held your breath.

But nobody came in, stopping in response to the approaching sound of another, heavier set of footsteps. “Glad to see you back in one piece,” Yuri greeted whoever it was. With the door cracked the way it was, you could hear him quite clearly. His voice was friendly, matching the smile he must have been wearing, but it was sharp, too. You knew that tone, recognized the danger it hid. “I figured it would be you who led this little rebellion.”

“Rebellion?” Lev asked. “I acted for all of us. The Vanargand boys won’t be an issue anymore.”

Yuri laughed. Although the sound was oddly genuine, nobody could miss the fact that he was making fun of Lev. “You really believe that?” he asked, his voice lilting with disbelief.

Lev grunted, you could imagine his scowl. He scowled a lot. “If you knew what we did to them, you wouldn’t laugh.”

“All you did was kick the hornet’s nest,” Yuri said, unimpressed, “while ignoring my orders to standby.”

“I came here to tell you that I think things should change around here, I think-”

“I don’t actually care what you think,” Yuri said, cutting him off calmly. His tone was deadly smooth, dripping with the unique threat of his friendly malice. “I expect you to be out of here by the time the sun rises. That gives you, what, four hours? Plenty of time.”

“What?” Lev asked, his bravado faltering.

“Leave my city,” Yuri told him. “And pray that I never see you again.”

“You can’t kick me out,” Lev said. “Not after all I’ve done for you, for the gang.”

“No?” Yuri asked. “You directly disobeyed my orders and put my men at risk for the sake of your own ego. I’d say that’s a pretty good reason to lose any and all trust I ever had in you.”

“The Vanargand Street Gang have been a pain in the ass for too long,” Lev told him, his tone growing combative. “I decided to do something about it.”

“I had them under control,” Yuri said. “without stooping to such boorish and dangerous methods.”

Lev responded with a mocking bark of a laugh. “Nah, this is about the girl, isn’t it? You should know that she all but begged me to take her along. If you wanna talk about trust, maybe consider why your precious little pet would disobey you.”

You froze, a cold, nervous sweat beading up at the nape of your neck, anxious nausea once again closing in your throat. Either unfortunately or fortunately, Yuri breezed right past that comment as if it didn’t affect him in the slightest. “This has nothing to do with her,” Yuri said without missing a beat. “If you don’t think I’m a fit leader, challenge my authority directly. But I’m warning you. Think carefully about what you do next. Right now, I’m relieved enough that nobody was seriously hurt by your incompetence that I’m willing to let you go with nothing more than a warning.” His voice lowered dangerously, forcing you to strain slightly to make it out. There was no playful teasing injected into these words, no way to interpret them as anything other than naked intimidation. “Don’t mistake my benevolence for weakness, you won’t live to regret it.”

A long moment of tense silence passed between the two men. You could imagine Lev’s storming rage, Yuri’s cool demeanor. You didn’t dare move, afraid that either would hear and unsure which was worse. The moment was broken only by another set of thumping, rhythmic footsteps cresting up the stairs. There was only one man who could possibly make that much noise.

“I heard shouting. I’m not missing the party, am I?” Balthus asked. While there was nothing directly antagonistic about the man’s voice, there was no mistaking the threat he posed. There was a reason he was Yuri’s right-hand man.

“No,” Yuri said. “Lev and I are simply having a… Disagreement.”

“Oh yeah?” Balthus asked. “Anything I should weigh in on?”

“That depends,” Yuri said. “What do you say, Lev?”

“Damn you, Leclerc.”

“Haven’t you heard?” Yuri asked, a hint of a smile in his voice. “I’m already damned.”

There was another moment of silence, almost long enough to make you wonder if the trio had somehow disappeared, before Lev swore under his breath and retreated past Yuri and Balthus, his feet pounding a cadenced thump, thump, thump as he stalked down the stairs.

“Balthus,” Yuri said when Lev’s footsteps were completely lost. “Would you mind making sure our friend makes it out of the city without doing anything reckless?”

“Think he might?” Balthus asked.

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” Yuri responded, his voice was more honest than with Lev. He sounded tired. “I sure as hell didn’t think he would make a move like this just yet.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him.” Balthus paused. “What, uh, should I do if he tries anything?”

“Take him to the Vanargand. I’m sure they’ll be hunting him down regardless.”

Balthus whistled. “That’s pretty cold, boss.”

“It’s far better than he deserves,” Yuri said, his voice dark. “If she died, I…”

“No need to explain. I get it, pal,” Balthus said, saving Yuri from having to continue. As badly as you didn’t want to know what Yuri was going to say, you very desperately did, too. “I’ll make sure he stays in line. You look like you could use some rest. Or a drink.”

Yuri laughed, the sound a bit lighter than before. “You might be right about that.”

“Of course I am,” Balthus said. “You don’t live as long as I have without catching wise to these things. I’ll be off, then.”

“Good luck,” Yuri said, “and don’t do anything stupid. There’s only so much I can handle in one night.”

“Hah!” Balthus called, trampling right back down the hallway. “That big brain of yours will burst into flames if you keep on worrying about everything, pal. Better call it quits before you ruin that cute face with wrinkles.” Yuri laughed.

Realizing that Balthus leaving would mean Yuri would finally enter the room, you threw the blankets off of yourself and sat up. It hurt like hell, it felt like every single inch of your body was bruised, right down to the bone, but it was doable after the sickening dizziness passed.

You didn’t particularly want to get up, but you didn’t want to stick around and have the conversion you knew Yuri would start, either.

The way Yuri worried made your chest clench. You didn’t dare name it discomfort, but the feeling was awfully close. It was Yuri’s growing intensity that you noticed first. The way he’d get when other men got too close to you, the pointed questions he’d ask about your interactions with other people. How he worried when you had to travel or interact with people he didn’t trust, insisting that you tell him every single detail about what you were doing. Worse, the times when he seemed to know things he shouldn’t, things you didn’t tell him.

It was because of the promise he had made to your brother, he said, to keep you safe. Yuri valued the men under his command, and your brother had been a close comrade of his. And you bought it at first because your brother had always been protective, but Yuri’s behavior was different. He wasn’t your brother, but neither did you get the impression you were friends. Friends weren’t suffocatingly overprotective. Not friends, but not anything more, either. He never flirted with you as he did with everybody else, as he had before. Not even in a playful, teasing way. The tighter hold he kept on you, the more and more he maintained a distance.

Lev called you Yuri’s precious pet, and that struck too close to home. You hated it. You weren’t a child —you weren’t even a teenager anymore— and yet Yuri acted like you were made of glass. Like you couldn’t be trusted to look after yourself, like you were… Like you were a pet.

That’s why you had agreed to Lev’s job in the first. You wanted to change the dynamic the two of you had. You figured that if he saw that you weren’t as weak as he feared, that you were just as capable as the men in his gang, that he’d stop being so intensely and oppressively protective. But if he was willing to give Lev up to the torture the Vanargand gang would inflict on him for the sin of endangering you, you didn’t think it had been at all effective. Actually, it made sense that your near-death and horrible failure would have the opposite effect.

Steading yourself, you searched the room for your shoes. Someone, and you didn’t dare to think of who, had changed you into what you were pretty sure were Yuri’s clothes. While it made sense considering your own were probably nothing more than blood soaked rags, you weren’t incredibly comfortable with wearing his things. The smell alone was nearly overwhelming, but the level of intimacy it implied was something you didn’t dare consider. Even worse that you should wake up in his bed. His bed that was obviously big enough for two people, a bed that he had probably had company in because he was attractive and desirable and… And you couldn’t find your shoes.

“What are you doing?” Yuri asked. The door shut behind him, the metal latch clicking.

It occurred to you that while you’d been having a micro-meltdown, Yuri had probably been standing there watching.

“Leaving,” you responded, trying to maintain a neutral expression despite the way your voice cracked. That brave attempt fell apart with the way you burst into a coughing fit a moment later, hacking up sharp bursts of air against your scratched up throat, each breath sending aching pulses of pain against your bruised side.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Yuri scolded, rushing to the bedside table to pour you some water. So considerate, always. Guilt rose up within you. After he saved you, how could you be so rude and ungrateful? You knew he cared. He was your hero.

You averted your streaming eyes and took a few slow, careful sips from the cup as Yuri took a seat on the desk chair, sitting the wrong way with his arms draped over the chair’s back.

“Drink this, too,” he said, handing you a vial. You uncapped it to take a sniff it, wincing at the astringent scent.

“What is it?” you asked.

“It’ll help with the pain,” he said. You nodded, grateful for the idea of that, and pinched your nose to down the vial. It was exactly as disgusting as it smelled. At the very least, it wiped the smell of Yuri from your head for a spell. “You should lay back down,” he recommended. “Magic can only do so much to heal your wounds. Not to mention that you’ve had a hell of a shock. Honestly, after what happened, I’m surprised you managed to get upright. You’re full of surprises tonight, aren’t you?”

The implication, the reminder of what you’d done in such a banal tone, made you wince. Guilt or shame or embarrassment, you didn’t know. “I’m fine,” you said, staring at the floor rather than meet his eyes.

“It’s cute that you can say that with a straight face,” Yuri said. “Seriously, you look terrible.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled sarcastically, an instinctually petulant reaction to the way he treated you, “But I really am capable of taking care of myself.”

He didn’t even grace that with a serious answer, rolling his eyes. “Obviously.”

“I can’t stay here,” you said.

“You can,” Yuri told you, “and you will. You’ve lost a lot of blood and I don’t need a dead body on my doorstep. It’s bad for business.”

“Where will you sleep?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Yuri said. You met his eyes, frowning as you tried to figure out what he was thinking, what he was feeling. He sighed, likely reading the further arguments you were going to make in the way you looked at him. “I’ve had a long night dealing with your mess. Stop being a fool and do what I say.” “Or what?” you muttered, looking away again as you fought against the guilt. He didn’t own you, you weren’t even one of his men. He couldn’t order you around.

“Or I’ll make you,” Yuri said bluntly. “I doubt that’ll pleasant for either of us.”

That answer sent a shiver down your spine, whatever complaints you had been trying to maintain drying up on your tongue because you kind of believed him. His cold, cruel tone of voice when dealing with Lev was still all too clear in your mind. Besides, he was right. He was usually right. That didn’t help the terrible sensation of being treated like a child, like an invalid.

Avoiding his eyes, you set aside your cup and did what he said, tucking your feet back under the covers, leaning down against the pillows. It was a lot easier on your aching side, better for the splitting headache gathered up behind your right temple.

“Did you save me?” you asked after a moment, staring at the quilted pattern.

“Yeah,” Yuri responded, his voice unreadable.

“And you healed me?”

“What do you think?”

It had been a dumb question. You couldn’t imagine Yuri letting anyone else see that much of your bare skin to heal those wounds. All the same. “You don’t have to be rude, I was just clarifying,” you told him with a frown.

“Right, right, sorry. I just about forgot myself,” Yuri said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “What I meant was that I was the one who rushed to your rescue and healed your wounds, fair maiden. Is that better?”

You frowned, refusing to be amused by his antics. Despite the joking tone Yuri took, those words set you on edge. He hardly ever teased you like that anymore, now it just felt off. “Who changed my clothes?”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Yuri asked. Was there amusement in his tone? At your embarrassment? You could feel that your cheeks were hot and hoped desperately that he couldn’t tell. “Well,” he shrugged apologetically, “it’s not like I had much of a choice and I couldn’t put you to bed in dirty clothes…” Yuri looked up to meet your horrified eyes, smiling. “Kidding. I do have some honor. I asked the landlady to help me out. Your virtue is intact.”

Virtue. You swallowed hard on that word, drinking the last of the water. Your thoughts were beginning to fuzz, becoming less clear. It made it harder to refocus after being caught off guard by his teasing. The pain wasn’t as crisp, more of a background ache rather than an insistent thud. That was distracting, too. You knew that, for some reason, he wanted to fluster you. But you couldn’t let him distract you, nor could you let your embarrassment deter you. So, clenching your fists, you looked up and met his eyes.

“Thank you for saving me,” you said carefully. “I’m… I’m sorry for inconveniencing you.”

Yuri didn’t answer right away, staring you down in his unnervingly piercing way. The intensity of his eyes was uncomfortable, but it was undercut with the swirling storm of concern amidst the individual strands of purple pigment, the void-like pool of pupil. “I’m glad you’re alive,” he said carefully. And that was honest, genuine. He looked so tired. He sounded tired.

“I owe you. Twice, for saving me and healing me,” you said, forcing the words out in as business-like of a tone as you could manage. They were slurred, slightly. Had he given you a sedative? Or was this just normal exhaustion finally taking you out? “So tell me how you would like to be repaid, and I’ll see that it’s done.”

Yuri’s head fell to the side in confusion, like the question threw him off guard. Good. “Excuse me, what?”

“That’s how it is in your world,” you replied. “Our world. Right?”

“Our world?” Yuri asked, his expression retreating into a mask.

“The real world. Altruism doesn’t exist. When someone does something for you, there’s always a price. If I want to be taken seriously, I can’t keep being naïve about that.”

“That’s pretty cynical of you.” Was it just you or did he sound sad about that fact?

“You taught me well.”

“Not well enough,” he said, frowning as his eyes lingered on the bruises. He sighed. “So, I take it that that’s why you went? You want to be taken seriously?”

“Yes,” you said slowly, surprised that he’d be able to cut to the heart of it so quickly. Then again, it shouldn’t have been that surprising. Yuri was all too good at that.

“Word to the wise,” Yuri told you. “Never act unless success is guaranteed. If you want to be taken seriously, you have to have results to show for it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said.

“And another thing,” Yuri added. “Never give out open ended favors. Not even to people you trust. You might not like it when they call to collect.”

“But I know you wouldn’t want anything bad from me,” you said, frowning and unsure if he was implying what you thought he was. He couldn’t be, not Yuri. Not to you.

“Is that a fact?” he asked. “I could be helping you simply to get one of those incredibly enticing open favors. Now I’ve got two of them, I wonder what I could ask for…”

“I’m being serious,” you said.

“You think I’m not?” Yuri smiled at you like he knew all the secrets in the world, like you’d never catch him without the trickster’s mask or even guess at what he had hidden beneath. But then your reply was eaten by a mostly stifled yawn that tugged hard at your sore jaw and all pretense fell away to the concerned expression you knew so well from him. “Alright, enough of that. You look like you’re about to pass out. Get some sleep. I’ll watch over you, yeah?” he offered, flipping the chair around so he could sit directly at the bedside.

You couldn’t argue with that, yawning again. It hit you all at once, it seemed. You were passing out, the need for sleep becoming more and more pressing with each breath. “Next time,” you told him, your words slurring like a drunk as you settled further down into the bed. Your body felt so heavy, the colors of the room smoothing out like butter, the smell that clung to the bedding and the clothes filling you with warmth. “Next time for sure, I’ll show you. Then I won’t owe you-” you yawned, again. This time you just gave up. He definitely had given you a sedative. Unfortunately, you were too far gone to be mad. Sleeping would be nice anyway. You were so tired.

“There won’t be a next time,” Yuri told you. There was something absolute in his tone, a hard edge that wasn’t to be questioned.

“Why?” you asked, trying to clench your fists to remain lucid for a moment longer. This question was important, important enough for you to fight against your heavy and scattered thoughts. “Why do you care... so much?”

“I don’t know,” Yuri said, his voice threadbare and exposed. He really looked so tired, so beautiful. He had more masks than anyone, but right then you didn’t think that it was a mask.

He didn’t know either.

Where did that leave you?

Floating, it seemed. Lavender and milk and shadow blurred in your vision, the colors of Yuri. Your eyes fluttered shut, filled with a kaleidoscope of him. The pain was gone, you couldn’t even find the passion to argue or to be mad or afraid or upset. It was enough to be safe, to be with him, to be warm.

Tomorrow, then. Tomorrow you would get answers.

“You remind me of something I lost a long time ago,” Yuri said after a moment. It would have been too much to open your eyes or respond, so you just listened, marveling at the way his voice created the words, the way it caressed them. Had you really never noticed how delicious his voice was? You could lose yourself in it, you thought. “Something even I can’t steal for myself,” Yuri continued, “something more precious than a Heroes Relic. As long as I can preserve that, I can live with the consequences.”

You didn’t fight when he grabbed your hand from where it had fallen on the comforter, pulling it up into both of his. Yuri’s hands were rough, his fingers narrow and long and nice. They were scarred and bloodstained. They held yours gently, tenderly.

“Heh, maybe I’m a coward to tell you now. I doubt you’ll remember this by tomorrow.”

“I’ll remember,” you mumbled mindlessly, your eyes remaining closed. How could you forget this warmth? The beauty of the colors in your head, the feeling of his touch.

Yuri pressed his cheek against your hand. The skin was soft, warm. “Maybe you will. You certainly deserve my honesty. But after tonight... Maybe it’s too late to anyway. I tried so hard to protect you, even from myself.” He laughed, a humorless puff of air against your knuckles. “Especially from myself. Sometimes I can’t help but think that it’s inevitable that everything and everyone who becomes close to me will be stained by the association. I didn’t want to see that shine in your eyes become dull. This cruel, cynical world destroys everything of value, but not you.” He paused, thinking. You drifted, the words rolling over you without sticking, without meaning. His voice was so lovely. “But you’re wrong, you know,” Yuri continued after a while, pulling you back. “Things done out of love don’t have a price. You don’t owe me anything, you never have.”

Yuri’s lips brushed over your knuckles, a kiss over each ridge, before one of his hands untangled itself. You leaned into the feeling of his calloused fingertips on your warm cheek, pushing your hair out of the way as they caressed your face. Even in your vague stupor, the touch was enough to make your eyes open. Half-lidded, your sight hazy. Yuri glowed in the candlelight.

A smile tugged at the corner of his pink lips, a melancholic expression. So sad. Did he always look so sad? So beautiful? It made your heart ache, a hollow, faraway feeling.

“Hey,” he said, meeting your eyes. You attempted a smile in return, a dozing, drunken, delirious smile. “If I told you tomorrow that I loved you, would you take me as I am?” You hummed. A yes, maybe, no. He was still stroking your face, holding your hand. You couldn’t recall the last time you’d been touched like this. Not since you were a child, you didn’t think. So nice, so soft. “That’s the problem, I don’t know. And I… I don’t act unless victory is assured. If I make a move and lose you for good…” He squeezed your hand, his eyes closing. “I don’t want to lose you. Not to the whims of the cruel world and not by corrupting you with my black heart.” Your eyes closed again, his words becoming lost in your fascination with his voice. Yuri’s fingers left your cheek, returning to wrap around your hand. “Even if can never have you,” he said, a soft resolution in his voice, “it’ll be okay as long as you’re safe. And I know that you’ll be safe as long as you stay with me.”

#dimitrimidim #yuri leclerc #fe yuri #yuri leclerc x reader #fe yuri x reader #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #my writing #yandere //#yuri #yuri x reader #whoops hope y'all like this #as the kids say #yeet #uh if there's issues just pretend they're not answering the phone

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spectralscathath · 3 years

Text

Like-Minded Souls, Indeed?

Because this was exactly what Mercury needed, the voice of someone his boss killed showing up in his head and telling him to save the world. No thank you. Not unless you paid him.

Meanwhile, on Ozpin's side of things, he would like to very much not be found out by Salem. That would be... unfortunate.

Ao3 Link

Chapter 1: In Which Neither Mercury Nor Ozpin Can Ever Catch A Break

Ozpin felt the tugs of Ozma's magic at the corners of his mind, the limbo of their incarnations finally broken as a like-minded soul was bonded with.

He awoke in the back of someone's mind, still bleary as though he was physically waking up from a deep sleep. The mindscape was quiet with a forced calm, tension like pulled strings threading through the soul of this new individual and ready to snap at the slightest touch.

He looked out a set of new eyes, to see if it was a good time to introduce himself, and felt ancient fear flood through him at the sight of Ozma's oldest and most terrible foe. Oh. Oh no. This was very bad. This was quite possibly the worst place he could incarnate.

Salem herself, smiling at the girl who had killed him under Beacon. To die in fire was not an experience the countless souls wanted to repeat, and Ozpin was unfortunate enough to join the ranks of the few predecessors who’d suffered such a painful death.

He chose to say nothing, instead observing the way silver strands of hair fell over the side of his vision, how the body ached with phantom pains that were not Ozpin's, and wisely retreated back into the mind.

Perhaps another time.

Perhaps when Mr Mercury Black was not currently surrounded by danger.

After all, they both had to make the best of things now. He could only hope that Mr Black would be the type who could be persuaded away from Salem.

If not, then this was going to be... difficult.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ozpin had been a father, so many lifetimes before. He had never been perfect, he had made countless mistakes across Ozma's many lifetimes, he accepted them all as his failures, so he could learn from them and do better in the next life.

He had given his second life in a futile attempt to save his daughters, and sometimes wondered if he regretted his choices. Should he have stayed? If he had stayed, would he still be alive? Would his children still be alive?

The look Marcus Black wore in so many of Mercury's memories reminded him too much of Salem to ever again regret his attempt to escape her clutches.

He had been waiting a long time, studying Mercury’s routine so he could find the safest time to breach the gap between them. He had to say, this was an opportunity like no other, to see what Salem’s plans were without detection, but with great reward came terrible risk. All it would take was one slip, and they’d both be dead. Or worse. And if he did nothing, then all the knowledge he could gain would be for naught.

So he waited until they were alone before he could chance speaking to him, until Mercury had retreated to his corners and locked the door, shoving a chair under the handle as was his custom. He was paranoid, which was a very fair response to the situation. The massive wardrobe must have taken some shoving to put it in the path of the window, but it certainly did prevent any unwelcome visitors who might see it as a means of entry.

The bed pushed into the corner was wise as well, to put his back to a wall, although the fact that Mercury piled his pillows under the covers as a decoy and then slept under the bed itself might have been pushing it somewhat.

He waited until Mercury was sitting on the bed, looking over his weapons and performing any upkeep needed, the faint cyan glow from the vents in his prosthetics lining his silver fringe.

Mr Black, don’t be alarmed.

“What the FUCK?!” Mercury bolted upright, knife in hand as he looked around, head swinging to every potential place an intruder could be. “Who’s there?!”

Professor Ozpin. He had to think quickly. Don’t tell Salem or she will kill you. This is part of my curse as her opponent, I must incarnate into a new mind with every death, and I am now currently in yours.

“No the fuck you are not.” Mercury snarled. “Show yourself, come out and face me.”

I can’t, actually. He should try and enter Mercury’s dream. He personally had never done that, but Ozma had, so therefore he had as well… hadn’t he? It seemed the lines were blurring between himself and Ozma already. More than they had been when he was alive. He’d been one of the more compatible hosts, on account of not having anything that really needed Ozpin Headley more than it needed Ozma-in-Ozpin��s-head.

“Nope. Okay. I’ve gone mad. I’ve been up too long.”

That is true. Mercury had a terrible case of insomnia, it seemed. Though with the night terrors he had, it was understandable. He was about to have a whole lot more, once the merge hit the point where Ozpin was able to fade into the memory consciousness, just as Ozana had when she had joined the other incarnations in the depths of their shared subconscious.

He was hoping he could spare the young man the nightmares from hundreds of deaths. Ten thousand years was a long time to live and die and live again. Mr Black, I assure you, this is not an ideal situation for me either, but you must understand that you are not crazy and that I am now-

“Taking up residence in my head like a fucking pervert? What, running a school wasn’t enough for you to get your sick kicks?” Mercury snarled at him.

Okay, that was uncalled for. Mr Black, that is very untrue. This is just something that happens . After all, someone had to stop Salem.

“Fuckin- alright, fine, so I’ve gone mad. What else is new?” Mercury grumbled, sitting back down and angrily sharpening a knife.

You’re very sane, I assure you. Ozana had told him something similar, if a bit less polite.

“Right, I’m talking to a voice in my head while living in a castle owned by some sort of humanoid Grimm witch, that’s the definition of sanity.” Mercury snarked at him.

If you can believe Salem’s existence, then surely you can believe mine?

“I don’t believe anything you say. Can you go back to shutting up?” Mercury’s anger was a tangible force in their head, not like a wildfire, but more like a poison, something that slowly corroded whatever it touched. It was a very cold anger.

I’m afraid not. I must insist that you leave this place before Salem finds out of my presence, or she WILL kill you then and there. Or worse. There could be so much worse. Salem had been around far longer than he had, by sheer virtue of her immortality working differently. It had left her with a large pool of creative methodology for causing pain, many of which had been lost to time.

He didn’t want to undergo that as much as Mercury likely wouldn’t want to either, so that meant leaving was their best choice. He’d been listening in on a few of the meetings that Salem had hosted, finding out that Haven was the next target, and Vacuo after that. He’d also found that she hadn’t yet obtained the Crown of Choice, but that she did still have at least one operative in Vale looking. He wished them luck. He personally had decided to move the Beacon Vault and hide it a little better after he took over the school.

There was no way Salem’s people could find it. Not without his knowledge. Or Jinn’s knowledge.

He had to keep Jinn out of Salem’s reach. If summoned, she wouldn’t choose not to answer Salem’s question. She didn’t have that sense of morality. To the Relics, all that mattered was their task, and the rules that bound them to it.

So, Mercury, when do we leave?

“You’re stupid.” Mercury told him bluntly. “We’re on another continent with no way off that isn’t controlled by Salem. There is no leaving. At least not until she sends me out on a job. So here’s the deal, you shut the fuck up, and then maybe when I’m out of this creepy fucking castle, we can talk.” Ozpin could hear the lie in there. Mercury had zero intentions of ever talking to him again.

But it was a good idea, for safety’s sake. He would have to be a silent observer. After all, the walls could have ears.

Besides, once they were out on a job, so to speak, he could simply start talking again. After all, that was the letter of the potential agreement, if not Mercury’s intention.

Agreed. I will see you when we are in the clear.

“Piss off.” Mercury grumped at him, and just this once, Ozpin chose to comply. He could use the time to gather information, and silence was a small price to pay for that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mercury followed Emerald, Watts, and Cinder into the safehouse Lionheart had brought for them, feeling a strange sense of betrayal flood him that was definitely not his. He realised it was probably Ozpin, who had so far remained quiet during the flight out of Evernight, meeting up with Watts, and going over battleplans for confronting Raven Branwen.

He’d been tuned in just to see what his role was (he was Thug #2, the muscle who was meant to stand there and possibly kill someone if that kind of point had to be made), and was allowed to be basically invisible beyond that. He watched as Cinder went to cook herself dinner, and since she knew she controlled Emerald through food and shelter, probably Emerald as well. Mercury could cook for himself, if he had to, and Watts could starve for all they cared.

He wasn’t hungry anyway. Too busy trying to hold off on the wrenching nausea in his gut that was not his. “See ya, Em.” He shrugged at her, holding up his scroll. “I’m gonna play some Amid You. See ya tomorrow.”

“See ya, Merc.” She waved him off. She’d gotten a bit more tolerable since they got trapped together in the deathworld that was Salem’s castle. Not that they were friendly or anything. Just tolerable.

He made his way up the stairs and into one of the rooms, making sure it wasn’t the fanciest one because he’d let Cinder and Watts duke out ownership of that one. He locked the door, looking for something he could shove against it and picking the bedside table. It’d do.

He checked the window lock and pulled the curtains over, sitting on the bed as he played music on his scroll to mask the fact that he could be talking to himself, if only to tell Ozpin to shut the fuck up with the sadness.

“Alright asshole, what’s the problem.”

I can’t believe Leo would fall this far. Ozpin sounded fucking miserable. Sucks for him, he got betrayed. What happened to him? He was a hero for so long…

“People suck, get over it.” Seriously, if he’d been around since the asscrack of time, then he should know that.

Not always. Some people are good. It makes it hurt all the more when some of them turn out to… well. Stick a knife in your back . Ozpin sighed, impressive for a man who didn’t have a body or lungs. So. Now we can discuss you leaving this group and helping protect the Relic of Knowledge.

“Yeah, no, not happening. If there’s a mole on the inside of your old team, then me buggering off from Cinder is only gonna end up with us dead, which is that thing you didn’t want, right? After all, Leo runs Haven, and those kids Watts mentioned? First years and a drunken Huntsman. Haven’s dead meat.”

We have to try. Salem cannot be allowed to obtain any of the Relics.

“Nah. We have to survive. I’m not dying just because you wanna be a hero.” Mercury kicked his boots and greaves off, since he was out of Evernight, twirling his ankle a bit and listening to the metallic clicking the joint made.

Mr Black, I must insist. If the Vault in Haven is opened, it could go very badly. Besides, Qrow is my friend. I’d rather not risk him being hurt.

“Hey, the plan involves not going near Qrow. It’s a simple sneak in, sneak out, and the White Fang blow up the school a few days later. No one’s getting hurt, except for Lionheart. Clock’s ticking on his usefulness.” The plan was easy compared to Cinder’s weird domino pieces plan for taking down Beacon. He preferred the Haven plan that was clearly Salem and Watts’s idea. It was simple, no muss, no fuss. Easy pickings.

Gonna be great to see how Cinder’s rampaging ego ruined it, something easy like this clearly wouldn’t fuel her proud streak. She was just like Marcus. Always wanted a challenge. That was why he saved cutting off a target’s semblance for a finishing blow in his assassinations.

Haven Academy is important, Mercury, you can’t just let it be blown up! I won’t stand by while Salem steals the Relic and destroys another Academy! I can’t!

“All the Huntsman in Mistral are either dead or useless, gramps.” Mercury rolled his eyes. “Academy’s already useless. You should focus on the relic.” Maybe if he came up with another plan it’d get Ozpin off his back.

I don’t play to win at all costs, Mr Black. I try to protect as many pieces on the board as I can.

“That’s why you’re losing,” Mercury collapsed back on the bed, hooking his hands behind his head as he got comfortable. “How about another deal? We wait for Cinder to get the Relic. Watts has to go back to Evernight after dealing with Branwen, so the trip back will be me, her, and Emerald. Cinder won’t be expecting an attack, so how about we kill her, steal the ship, and then you can take the Relic wherever you want?”

And Emerald? Ozpin queried. Would you be killing her in this sneak attack as well?

That made him pause for a moment. Would he kill Emerald? Probably not, he didn’t need to. Cinder was absolutely a threat who had to be taken out as quickly as possible, but Emerald? Nah. “She’d probably get all butthurt that Cinder’s dead or whatever, but I don’t see why she should die as well. Worse comes to worst we’ll knock her out. We’d be doing her a favour, honestly. You’ve seen how Cinder treats her.” The fact that Ozpin was constantly watching everything was real fucking unnerving and something he tried to not think about at all times.

Hmmmm… Ozpin deliberated for ages, which made Mercury think he was probably scheming away. Whatever. Mercury wasn’t going to fall for any of it. What could a voice in his head do? Get sad at him? You think you can kill Cinder?

“I think that I’ve been watching how she fights for nearly two years now and that she’s got a massive blind spot on her left side.” It wouldn’t be easy, but it would be manageable. Amber got taken out too, after all. “You got anything that would help? Cinder said you put up a fight in that basement where she killed you.” He hoped that was uncomfortable to talk about. If he had to be disquieted by sharing headspace with a weirdo, so should Ozpin.

Yes. I have some magical ability left that can, at the very least, level the playing field a little bit. It’s not as strong as the Maiden’s magic, but if applied correctly, it could work.

Sounded like Ol’ Oz was coming around to ‘fuck everyone else, I got what I want in the end’. Selfish thinking won again. Why waste energy on stopping the destruction of a school when Cinder could be allowed to think she won and Mercury could then use that pride against her to escape this whole messed-up situation.

After all, Salem might be remaking the world and had offered to make him one of the top dogs, but in the pecking order, he was still near the bottom of the ladder. Besides, he did have her worst enemy in his head.

Escape was definitely the best option. “And hey, if she’s planning on attacking Vacuo after, think your buddy in Atlas would let us bunker down there?” If they did it right, then no one would know what happened. Cinder would be too dead to talk, Emerald would be a flight risk but he could probably talk her into not going back to work for Salem, and he sure wouldn’t tell anyone.

Yes. James can be trusted.

Just like Lionheart could, Mercury thought, but this one he kept to himself. “So. Deal?”

I don’t like this. It’s cruel and callous.

“I’m Mercury Black, have we met?” Why would he want to be anything else? The world was cruel. The only way to win was to take what you had and fight for what you wanted. No rules. No lines. Those made people weak.

… Very well. I’ll agree, for now.

“Then we’re done for tonight.”

I suppose we are. Thank you for hearing me out.

Mercury blinked perturbedly. Did he just get thanked? Weird. “Uh- sure. Whatever.”

Ozpin sounded way too amused as he chuckled, Mercury’s hackles rising only slightly. Good night, Mr Black.

Mercury snorted and didn’t bother replying, reaching for his scroll as he switched his music off and went into the games folder. Yeah it was gonna be a good night. He was gonna play video games til his eyes fell out and not sleep.

He supposed this situation with Ozpin could have been worse. At least the guy kept to himself and didn’t make a nuisance. If Mercury had to have a creepy man in his head talking to him, it could have been a lot worse. Could have had a Tyrian in there. Or a Watts.

Or his dad.

Mercury’s nose scrunched. Wouldn’t that be awful. Least Ozpin knew which of them was in control.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was chaos in Haven Academy’s foyer. Mercury dodged a wild swing from Yang, flipping back in a handspring as he errantly observed the room. Ozpin had not been happy about the ‘kill everyone’ plan but whatever, they were here now. Ozpin had been a lot louder since then and was still there, still currently losing his mind in the back of Mercury’s head. Mercury tried to tune most of it out. Wasn’t easy.

Mercury, please! This can’t be what you want! Ozpin begged as Mercury watched that kid in the green get thrown through a wall by Hazel. Ozpin always went real quiet around him. He wondered why. They’re just children!

He didn’t answer back, because fuck it, what did he know? Being a kid didn’t mean shit. Where was ‘just children’ when Marcus beat him up daily? Nowhere, that’s where.

You have to stop this! You’ll never be able to get the Relic now, the plan won’t work! This is our only chance!

He dodged another gunshot from Yang, which was criminally easy, she definitely had not gotten faster since their last fight, and checked in on the only threat. Qrow was- oh fuck he had stopped fighting Raven, disengaging from that little sibling duel to charge Hazel, landing a blow to the guy’s back with enough force that Hazel’s knee hit the ground. Mercury swore it dented from the weight behind that blow.

No no no no no no-

He whistled as he caught Yang’s kick in one of his own, forcing her leg down and scoring a punch directly to the floating ribs. Her eyes went red for a moment as she swung a hook at him, one that he dodged again, knocking her around with a few more kicks to the head. Had she gotten sloppier? He would be ashamed to fight this badly.

Mercury. Please. Don’t make me do this.

He glanced over at where Qrow was nimbly dodging Hazel’s blows before a cheap shot from Lionheart hit him in the shoulder, knocking his footwork off-balance long enough that Hazel got his hands on Qrow.

Mercury I’m so sorry-

“What-” Mercury asked before his vision flashed gold, and he was shunted into the back of his own head. Suddenly he was the voice, and Ozpin was in control- he had no control over his own body, no way to stop as Ozpin took a running leap, leaving a confused Yang behind, and landed a kick into the side of Hazel’s head, the shotgun blasting right in his ear.

Ozpin had took over. Ozpin… could take over. And he’d never mentioned it. He’d never-

Qrow looked at them, utterly dumbfounded. The entire room had gone dead quiet as Ozpin-in-Mercury’s-body artfully landed between Qrow and Hazel, not taking his eyes off the latter. Then he spoke with Mercury’s voice but it wasn’t Mercury’s words and it wasn’t right-

“I’d like my cane back, if you wouldn’t mind, Qrow.”

Cinder was staring. Emerald was staring. Everyone was staring as Mercury was turned into a fucking puppet, all his control stolen away. He hadn’t even known Ozpin could- He’d thought-

His view of their- their, not his- vision tunnelled, greying out at the edges. Haven wasn’t there anymore. It was just that house. His room. The smell of whiskey and blood and cigarette burns-

And Mercury clocked out, brain going black with panic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He felt hands on his shoulders even though there were no hands on his shoulders, pulling him out of the darkness and shoving him back in the driver’s seat. He blinked, collapsed against a wall with a cane handle in his hand and Qrow leaning over him, the smell of alcohol on the other man’s breath hitting some button in his head too close too close-

“Get AWAY from me!” He shrieked, kicking him full in the chest and loosing a shotgun blast to make sure the point got across, the Relic clattering on the ground as Qrow lost his grip on it. His hand clenched on the cane handle so hard it was shaking, and he threw that away as hard as he could.

Mercury, I am so sorry, I swear, I didn’t want to ever have to do that to you, but you left me no choice-

“ Shut up!” He snapped, voice ragged and a little too raw as he pulled his knees defensively to his chest and dug his fists into silver hair, tugging until the burn on his scalp felt like he was pulling Ozpin’s voice out of his head.

He heard footsteps come closer and looked up from his defensive curl, a knife appearing in his hand as he met Lil Red’s silver eyes, wide with concern and simmering with underlying resentment. “Professor Ozpin?”

Mercury, you have to understand, we can’t let Salem get the Relic-

He remembered a similar look on her face when she saw him walking again in the maintenance hall of Amity Colosseum. He snarled back this time, instead of a cocky smirk. “No. Come near me and I’ll rip your fucking face off.”

“Don’t talk to my sister like that!” Yang snapped, her eyes bright red as she glared at him, the Schnee keeping a hand on her shoulder to keep her in line. Fucking try it, Blondie, he’d take her other arm off, they could match.

Ruby wisely took a step back, still easily too close for him to handle. “Mercury?” her hand twitched towards the gun on her back

Mercury? Will you let me explain?

“All of you shut up.” He glared at the Relic, kicking it away as he jumped to his feet. He couldn’t handle this. It was too much, too much control lost- and Emerald wasn’t there, FUCK. So much for doing her a favour. He looked at everyone, feeling cornered, skin alive with fire ants that weren’t really there and legs burning with phantom aches, and did the only thing he could do when fighting wasn’t the option.

He bolted, clearing the stairs behind him and disappearing into Haven Academy, picking a random room that wasn’t Lionhearts (he was not going NEAR a fucking Seer, no thank you) and locking the door.

Mercury, I truly am sorry. I never meant to hurt you. Ozpin told him gently, and the worst thing was that he sounded like he meant it.

“Don’t ever talk to me again.” Mercury snarled, and started breaking everything in the room that he could get his hands on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Man, Ozpin's sections got deeper then I expected but then again the guy has identity issues for sure. Where does Ozma end and Ozpin begin? Things we will literally never know!

#rwby #mercury black #ozpin #Oz!Merc AU #rwby fanfiction #my writings

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sicjimin · 3 years

Text

A.N : plugging another draft .. a no sense and plotless fic of Jimin being sick in the early morning TT i hope u like this one. I want to do the request but my brain still won't let me, but i missed being here so maybe I'll put some of my drafts one by one if thats are okay.

TW : emeto

Jimin pants, gripping tightly to the sink as he rides the sloshing in his stomach. He opened his eyes slowly, greeted by brown mess splattering all over the sink, that it contains his dinner yesterday. His stomach twist, he jolts forward, gurgling up more liquid from his body. He gasps quietly before he retches again. Tears fall from his eyes, the water in his stomach is making its way out of his throat. He bends down further, his legs are shaking and he can’t stand anymore if it's not because of Jungkook's tight grip on his waist.

"Oh my god Hyung, you're so sick", Jungkook murmurs, his hand hasn't left the older back since the latter start vomiting. Jimin ducked his head down. It feels like he has been throwing his guts out for so long but why nausea hasn't subsided yet?

" I feel horrible, Kook", he whimpers. His palm pressed to his stomach, attempting to ease the pain. The younger fingers brush through his sweaty hair soothingly.

"I know. but it will pass", Jungkook hums, " Are you done?"

Jimin shakes his head. He didn't want to move yet, not when his stomach still wreaking havoc in there. They stay there in silence. Jimin fighting nausea and Jungkook just watch his hyung in sadness.

Jimin groans, lifting his head when he feels the urge to throw up crawling on him again. His head spins with dizziness. Jungkook looks at his tired boyfriend worriedly, taking a hold of his wrist softly, rubbing circles gently onto Jimin's palm.

"You're okay hyung", Jungkook whispers.

It didn't take long before Jimin's nausea morph into another round of vomit. Jimin's body jolts forward, ducking his head deeper into the sink, as water spurts out from his lips, spraying in a big stream, leaving the older chokes and gasps for air. The next session was more watery liquid, that he managed to get out and over more quickly than he expected. He spits after the last heave tapered down.

Exhausted is underrated to say what Jimin feels right now.

" Kook..", Jimin slurs weakly. His legs start to feel like jelly.

Jungkook holds onto the older tighter, holding Jimin steady.

"You're okay", Jungkook murmurs, "Let's take you to bed, is that alright?"

He doesn't reply. He's too tired to do anything. Jungkook helps the smaller lean on his chest as they make their way to their room. Once inside, the door closes behind them. Jungkook lays Jimin on the bed carefully.

Jimin sighs instantly, curling his body smaller and wrapped the blanket around him completely, drowning his small figure. He felt cold. He actually wanted nothing more than a warm nice shower because he feels gross all over, but he knew that he could possibly puke once more. Not knowing how much is going to happen again even he already feels empty. He didn't want to risk that, so instead, he buries himself beneath the covers.

Jungkook frowns lightly, his hand brushing the other's fringe away from his eyes. Jimin whines.

Jimin opens his eyes and looks at Jungkook , giving a soft smile. Jungkook returns the gesture, placing his hand against Jimin's forehead.

"How do you feel?", he asks, worries evident in his voice.

"I'm fine".

"No", Jungkook scoffs, moving Jimin's bangs away from his forehead, "Throwing up at 5 AM is not fine, Jiminie"

Jimin chuckles, "I know, i'm sorry i wake you up. My initial plan was just to drink some water"

Jungkook huffs, "How do you feel, now?"

"I feel like shit.", Jimin mumbles, " Dizzy, empty, cold .. everything"

"Well, you look like shit"

The younger jokes making Jimin laugh softly, throwing the nearest pillow he could get.

"I'll go get some water for you, then", Jungkook mutters.

Jimin grabs his wrist, " No, stay"

"Hyung, you need water. You haven't got anything in your stomach yet"

"No!", Jimin exclaims, "Don't wanna be alone, please",

Jungkook sighs, he plops himself next to the older, pulling the blanket enough to cover his lower body. Jimin cuddles closer.

"What is it?"

"My head hurts", Jimin mutters.

Jungkook strokes through Jimin's hair, "Your stomach does too".

Jimin nods and rests his chin on Jungkook's chest. It's comfortable.

"Do you want me to rub your stomach?" Jungkook asks softly, smiling softly as Jimin shakes his head.

"I don't think I can handle it yet."

Jimin yawns, burying himself deeper on the older's chest. He's feeling exhausted.

"Okay, then", Jungkook smiles, still running his fingers on the blonde hair, " Rest hyung", he mumbles before he let his body relaxed too, hoping he won't wake up to another episode of sickness.

Jungkook is stirred awake when he feels a constant shake on his shoulder.

"Huh?", he sleepily mumbled, his eyes still half-closed, but he's /awake/

" Kook", Jimin's voice is hoarse and Jungkook is fully awake.

"Hyung, what is it? Are you okay?"

Jimin shakes his head, "I think i'm gonna puke-", a gag cutting his words. Jimin squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the wave to pass, "-again. Can you help me to the bathroom? I'm too dizzy to move"

Jungkook nods, helping the elder to sit up. He puts an arm around Jimin's waist, trying to stop any unnecessary movements. Jimin leans heavily against him, Jungkook supports most of his weight, trying not to drop him. Jimin pushes himself up until he can make it into the bathroom. His hand protectively circled around his stomach, keeping it from suddenly lurching out his content.

They are already in the doorway before Jimin's body gives up. The older suddenly heave into his palm, letting out a gut-wrenching moan. Jungkook flinches from the force.

"Hyung hyung .. few steps again, kay? Hold it hyung", Jungkook chatters panicky. Jimin closed his eyes, letting Jungkook guide his body as he's too busy to keep his stomach down. Jimin's stomach churns loudly, he grips his stomach tighter.

Once his eyes catch a sight of toilet, he let his body take control. His stomach didn't waste time, it emptied itself into the toilet.

He has never been a loud puker, but this time his gag and the sound of vomit splashing against the water feel too loud in his ears. It echoes. And it only makes him feel disgusted and his stomach twists further.

Jungkook watches helplessly, rubbing up and down to the older arched back that tenses with every heave he let out.

Jimin lets out a whimper as he feels liquid keep pouring out of his mouth. He hasn't eaten anything yet, why he has so much to throw up?

Jungkook's hands curl more around Jimin's waist protectively, " Hyung .. gosh, you're so sick"

"Nnghh.... I don't like this feeling", Jimin moaned before he back at it again. The sound of retching, coughing and the sound of liquid hitting water fills the room until finally it goes silent. Heaves follow afterward as Jimin falls back into Jungkook's embrace, exhausted.

" Kook ..", Jimin mumbles, his whole body shaking with exhaustion, "Can we.. lay down?", he stammers out weakly.

Jungkook nods, lowering himself slowly so they both sit down on the cold bathroom tile. Jungkook stretched his arms to flush the toilet, wiping Jimin's wet lips as the older seems to out of it. Jungkook sighs. He hates seeing Jimin in pain.

Jungkook pulls Jimin close to him, " Do you want to move to bed again hyung? It's too cold here. Your fever might be worse", he says softly, looking at the pale face of the older.

"I have .. fever?", Jimin mumbled weakly.

Jungkook hums, nodding. " You're warm. But its not too high, i think medicine will do"

Jimin gags at the mention of medicine.

"I don't want to"

Jungkook hushes him, "You have to hyung .. or you won't get better"

Jimin sighs, nodding slightly. He wants to argue, but he couldn't really find his energy within himself to fight.

"We'll get you to bed and some water first then", Jungkook says, guiding the older to stand up.

Jimin groans softly, swaying side to side. He feels lightheaded. Jungkook steadies him on his feet, supporting his entire weight with ease. They make their way to the bedroom slowly, Jimin stumbling slightly as he walks. He can hear Jungkook whispering soothing things to him.

"Almost there Jiminie"

Jungkook helps Jimin to lie comfortably on the bed. Jungkook sits beside him, grabbing a small bottle of medicine from his nightstand and handing it to Jimin. The latter takes it.

"Drink", Jungkook requests softly. Jimin sighs but complies, taking a big sip from the tiny bottle of pills.

Jimin sighs, closing his eyes. His breathing starts to become slower, his muscles relaxing as his breathing gets lighter.

" Kook", Jimin slurs quietly. He stares blearily at Jungkook who is staring back at him. Jimin reaches over, brushing his thumb across Jungkook's palms on his covered blanket thighs. A slight smile gracing his lips.

"Thank you", he whispers gently. " And i'm sorry for waking you up again"

Jungkook shakes his head, "It's okay. I would've woken up either way".

"Still.."

"It's alright", Jungkook assures. He continues running his fingers up and down Jimin's thighs.

A smile spreads across Jimin's lips, "Let's sleep again"

Jungkook agrees, "Yeah, you go to sleep. I will call Jin-hyung or Yoongi-hyung to look for you. I have schedule later"

"It's okay, i can take care-"

"I know you can", Jungkook cut the older words, " But i don't want you to. You barely keep your eyes open!"

Jimin pouts, "Fair point", he mumbled. " Argh, i hate being sick", he groans into his pillow.

"Blame your immune hyung", Jungkook teases.

Shut up", Jimin says with a chuckle. He throws an unamused glance towards Jungkook, who giggles lightly, "Sleep well, Minnie", Jungkook whispers. Jimin hums tiredly, shifting his gaze back to the wall above him.

" Good morning Kook", Jimin mumbled before slipping into his exhaustion.

#bts sickfic #bts emeto #tw emeto #tw vomit #sick!jimin #caretaker!jungkook

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vanillacaramelhoney · 4 years

Text

Different (8)

Pairing(s): Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: That was all she needed.

Warnings: Y’all should already know

A/N: :)

Masterlist

Previous | Next

Five had been walking for god knows how long.

His entire body ached, his feet taking the brunt of it, and the sound of the squeaking wheels on the wagon behind him was beginning to drive him mad.

With the apocalypse came silence- the kind that drove you mad, making you desperate for any sound that wasn't made by yourself.

No animals were left, and only a few insects prospered over whatever caused the destruction of Earth.

Now more than ever, Five wished he was back with his family. Even if that meant being stuck with his father again, whom he should have listened to.

With a sigh, Five pulled off to the side, settling under the shade of a mostly standing building.

The boy wanted nothing more than to sleep, but he had barely made any distance. As much as he wanted to, he needed to continue looking for supplies.

Five studied the barren land around him as he sat and leaned back against a wall.

Small fires were still burning, despite the fact that they started nearly three years ago.

He could feel his eyes fluttering as he struggled to stay awake.

Perhaps a small nap couldn't hurt?

"When's it supposed to happen?" Luther's voice roused YN from her sleep. "This...apocalypse?"

The girl sat up, earning glances from the two. She settled on leaning her head against Five's back as attempted to further wake up.

"I can't give you the exact hour, but, from what I could gather, we have four days left."

"Why didn't you say anything sooner?" Luther asked.

"It wouldn't have mattered."

"Of course, it would!" Luther exclaimed. "We could've banded together and helped you try to stop this thing."

"For the record, you already tried," Five told him.

Luther sat up, confused. "What do you mean?"

Five went silent as he contemplated telling him. YN wrapped an arm under his arm, holding onto his shoulder and rubbing it for comfort. She could feel him lean back into her.

"I found all of you," he spoke. "Your bodies."

"We die?"

Five looked up at him solemnly, the image of all his siblings flashing through his mind.

"Horribly."

It went silent- it was a difficult subject for Five to talk about, and a hard one to learn about.

"You were together, trying to stop whoever it was that ends the world."

"Wait," Luther looked at him, "how do you know that?"

Five pulled out the eye. "This was clutched in your dead hand when I found you." He tossed it to Luther.

YN peered around Five's shoulder to watch, still holding on to him.

"Must've ripped it out of their head right before you went down."

"Whose head?"

"Like I said, I don't know." Luther inspected the eye.

"Well, there's a serial number on the back," he pointed out. "Think maybe you could-" "Dead end," YN chimed in. "Unfortunately."

With a hesitant nod to her, Luther returned the eye.

The door to the room slammed open, startling YN into sitting upright. Diego came storming in, cursing.

Luther was quick to get on his feet.

"Do you have any idea what you just did?" He came toward the bed quickly, Luther grabbing him before he could do anything.

Diego let out grunts as he squirmed in his brother's grip.

"Get your ape hands off me!"

"I can do this as long as it takes for you to calm down," Luther told him.

Diego let out several pants as he stopped. "Fine." He was dropped to his feet with a thud.

"Now, wanna tell us what you're talking about?"

"Our brother's been pretty busy since he got back," Diego started, staring Five down with a fire in his eye. "He was in the middle of that shootout at Griddy's, and then at Gimble Brothers, after the guys in the masks attacked the academy, looking for them."

"None of which is any of your concern," Five spoke.

"It is now," Diego told him. "They just killed my friend."

YN's brows furrowed together as she looked up at him.

"Who are they?" Luther asked, turning to the two.

"They work for our former employer," Five caved. "A woman called the Handler. She sent them to stop us. Then, as soon as Diego's friend got in the way, well, fair game."

"And now they're my fair game. And I'm gonna see to it they pay."

As he turned to leave, YN's voice echoed.

"Who did they kill, Diego?"

The man stopped in his tracks, fists clenching. He looked back at her, eyes glazed over.

That was all she needed.

That was all she needed for her world to come crashing down on her.

Seeing that she understood, Diego continued his march out of the room.

"That would be a mistake, Diego," Five called after him.

"Diego, don't," YN warned, her voice straining.

"They've killed people far more dangerous than you."

"Yeah, we'll see about that," he said.

"Diego!" YN shouted, quickly scooting off the bed. She was rushing after him immediately, ignoring the nausea that came with her sudden movements.

She chased him out of the building to his car. She came to a halt at the window.

"Diego, you can't go after them," she pleaded. "They'll kill you. I can't lose you, too."

"They killed her, YN," he said with a sharp inhale. "I saw her, and there wasn't anything I could do. She was already gone."

He shook his head, leaning forward.

"And they'll do the same to you, which is why you can't go." Her voice was strained and cracking as tears slipped down her cheeks.

Diego looked up at her, a completely new attitude now present.

"You either get in the car and help me, or you stay out of the way."

YN's eyes widened at him.

"Diego," she pleaded.

Gritting his teeth, Diego started the car. Ignoring the girl's pleas, he drove off, leaving her alone.

As her tears continued to fall, she backed up against the nearest wall, sliding down to a seated position. Her legs were folded against her chest, her face hidden in her hands.

Peering around the wall, YN cautiously stared at the boy leaned against the wall.

She had been passing through when she came across him. At first glance, she had thought that he was just another dead body that she had the misfortune of stumbling upon.

But, another glance had her more curious.

He was dressed for the current conditions, and as far as she could see, he wasn't decaying. If he truly was dead like everyone else, there would have to be some sign of it by now.

Upon closer inspection, he was more than alive. His chest was rising and falling, but his eyes were closed. He was asleep.

YN stepped closer, hoping to get a better look at him, but his rousing had her scurrying back behind the wall.

She watched with wide eyes and labored breaths as he sat up, clearly taking in his surroundings.

He stood, collecting himself and his things.

As she watched, YN fought herself in her head.

'Talk to him!' her mind shouted. 'He's the only other person you've seen! You'll probably never see him again.'

By the time she worked up the courage, he was already walking away.

YN watched as he left, her hopes falling with a release of a breath she had been holding.

Perhaps her sigh was loud enough, or maybe whatever god or gods were watching over her decided to bless her, but the boy paused before looking back at the building.

Their eyes locked, both of theirs widening.

Five was the one that retrieved YN from where she had crumpled down in despair.

She had stopped crying by the time he found her, staring blankly at her feet as her mind attempted to process all that she had been told.

Being in the Commission, she was used to death- used to talking about it, seeing it, thinking about it. That didn't mean that she liked it, and it certainly didn't make anything easier.

When she had found herself in the apocalypse with everyone dead, she knew that her mother was a part of that group- there was no way she wasn't.

So, when Five mentioned the idea of going back and saving everyone, Eudora was the first person that came to mind.

But now it seemed that she lost that chance.

And Diego was going after Cha Cha and Hazel, putting him at risk for the same fate as her mother.

It was all a mess, and she hated that all she could handle doing was let Five settle her into his bed back at the academy, telling her to get some rest.

Even that seemed impossible.

----Taglist

@fancytravelerbird @megasimpleplan4ever @yikes-matey @we-all-are-strange @flowertoty @rasberrymay @lilacs-lavender @margotsfandoms @nibbles7192 @colie-babi @thegirlwholikestomanythings @halparkebitch @faith-quake @aesthetically-hailey

#tua x reader #umbrella academy x reader #number five x reader #five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #tua #tua x you #The Umbrella Academy #Umbrella Academy #umbrella academy imagine #number five #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x you #number five x you #five x you

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

Text

Side Effects- Complete

M/F Pairing: Y/N x Stray Kids (M/F Primary: Y/N x 3racha)

Warnings: Smut, Language, graphic depictions of violence, blood, gore, non-con elements

Genre: Yandere Stray Kids AU, Vampire AU, Fantasy AU

Word Count: 13K

Summary: Y/N just wanted a normal life, attending to her studies while earning the degree she’s always dreamed about. Unfortunately, her funds are running low and she’s increasingly desperate for money until she finds an advertisement online. Although she doesn’t know much about vampires, she decides to take a position as a blood donor to the mysterious Miroh Coven, unaware of the consequences of her fatal decision.

It had been almost six months since the incident. 24 weeks of paranoia, glancing over my shoulder in response to unexpected movements and sounds. 182 days of watching the bruises slowly fade from my skin, dark circles under my eyes gradually succumbing to the much-needed 8 hours of sleep I managed with the assistance of medication and my new roommate who always welcomed me in her bed when the nightmares progressed. Finally, it seemed like things were getting better with each passing day further and further away from the traumatic event that had changed my life forever.

I could now walk by myself at night without the risk of breaking down in the middle of the sidewalk. I could finally keep down the food my roommate prepared for me without the familiar feeling of nausea churning my stomach unpleasantly. I could finally find a job to support myself, working full-time as a Secretary at a company with full benefits and a reliable 401K.

They were gone from my life, taking the pain and suffering along with them. I was better now and I was determined to turn my life around because I was a strong and independent woman who should’ve known better. But I had been desperate back then, working through my college degree while my savings account was slowly drained. I wouldn’t be able to finance my Senior year and the idea of giving up on my education so close to the finish line had almost broken me in half.

That’s when I first saw the advertisement, promoted through Google’s convoluted Adword system. It was like an answer to my prayers, everything that I had been searching for wrapped up neatly with a handy URL link that took me straight to the source. I remember reading the advertisement with greedy eyes, unhesitating when I clicked on the “Apply Now” button:

ATTN:

Looking for a reliable blood donor for an estate of 8 young men belonging to the Miroh Coven. Preferably female with a blood type of O negative. Please send in an application ASAP.

Vampires weren’t uncommon in our society, though the government had heavily restricted their creation since a dramatic increase in population. Now, the government required notification if a Coven planned to initiate a new member. It was all a dramatic affair meant to prevent fledgling vampires who were more prone to violence and chaos. Of course, there was the occasional rogue who turned humans against their will simply because they couldn’t handle their blood-lust. However, more often than not, Coven leaders knew how to keep their members under control.

Blood donors were also not uncommon. Covens often hired several different donors to keep around when they required access to fresh blood. It was a practice that was initially met with hesitance from the greater public, but when Vampires proved they could handle themselves better around a reliable blood source, the government gradually acquiesced.

I had never given much thought to Vampires or Blood Donors until I saw the advertisement. More specifically, until I saw the amount of money this Coven, in particular, was willing to pay for their donor. It would be enough to pay my college tuition and keep money in my savings account to pay for rent and food. Since the new semester was rapidly approaching, I needed to pay for tuition immediately and provide a deposit for an on-campus apartment.

In hindsight, it was probably a foolish idea to jump headfirst into the application without doing proper research. Case in point, questioning just exactly why this obviously wealthy and established Clan needed a blood donor immediately. Under any other circumstances, I would’ve hesitated at the obvious sense of urgency behind the advertisement. I might have wondered what happened to the Clan’s previous Donor, but I was simply enraptured by the dollar signs and refused to consider that this could be a very bad decision.

It only took a few days before I received a notice on the application, requesting an interview at the Miroh Clan’s address. I remember feeling excited by the opportunity, dressing in my best slacks and blouse. I drove with barely constrained enthusiasm, singing along to the ridiculous pop song playing on the radio even though I really preferred classical music. But this was a special occasion and I was potentially meeting with someone who could change my life and allow me to finish the remainder of my education in luxury.

“Tuition is due this Friday,” I reminded myself, gaping at the giant Mansion gated in circumference by an ancient wrought-iron fence. “Remember to tell them you can start immediately, Y/N.”

I checked my make-up in the rear-view mirror before opening the door, heels clicking obnoxiously against the sidewalk. My first impression was rapidly becoming something like a passage from Bram Stoker’s Dracula as I ascended the steps to the front gate, smashing my finger against the button on the elaborate security system. The gate opened without warning and I jumped back in surprise, hand fanning against my chest as my heart nearly skipped a beat or two in my chest. “Relax, Y/N,” I said, smoothing down my slacks.

Despite it’s older appearance, it was obvious that the grounds of the Mansion were well-kept and I took note of the elaborate display of hydrangea’s lining the walkway to the front door. I presumed the Miroh Coven likely hired someone to do the work for them, especially since it was a known fact that Vampires generally disliked the sunlight as it bothered their enhanced senses. In any case, I was prepared to meet a bunch of older men who had perhaps lost their last client to old age or something. Instead, the man who opened the front door looked like he could attend the same University as me. Dressed impeccably in a dark mahogany suit, the man straightened his tie before offering me a relaxed smile. “Y/N?”

I nodded my head, trying not to react to the sight of his sharp incisors glinting menacingly in the light. “My name is Bang Chan,” he said, offering me an outstretched hand. “I’m the leader of the Miroh Coven.”

I shook his hand cautiously, aware of the strength in his arms highlighted by the bulging veins visible from the upturned aspect of his shirt sleeves. “Nice to meet you,” I said, recovering from the unexpected appearance of my potential benefactor. I had not anticipated meeting someone so obviously young.

“Come inside,” he said, opening the door further to welcome me into the shadowed hallways of the Miroh Mansion.

Present

“What else will you do?” my roommate asked with a pout.

I continued to read my book, far more concerned with the fate of my beloved heroine as opposed to my roommate’s desire to find free alcohol. “This,” I said, reclining further back against the comfortable stretch of pillows.

“Y/N,” my roommate chastised me softly. “I know why you don’t want to go and they’re just gonna win if you keep insisting.”

I tensed at her words, fingers mangling the corners of the pages. My roommate knew everything about my last situation because she was often the recipient of my screams when the familiar nightmares flooded my dreams. “They already won,” I grumbled. “I can’t even watch a vampire movie without losing my mind.”

“Are you afraid they’ll find you?” my roommate asked. “They’re thousands of miles away and you haven’t seen them for months.”

“Seven months,” I informed her curtly. “And I’d like to go for eight.”

“Y/N,” my roommate groaned. “You told me that you used to love parties.”

“I know,” I said. “Maybe someday I’ll go out with you, but for now this is the best way I can cope.”

My roommate nodded, messing with something in her bag before approaching me on high heels that were just bordering on too tall. “Here, I found this is the laundry room.”

I held out my hand absent-mindlessly, not really considering what she had given me until I pulled my attention away from the book. When I finally realized what it was, I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen followed by a wave of nausea that left me tossing my book to the side before bolting for the bathroom. “Y/N!” my roommate called my name, but I was already expelling the contents of my stomach, groaning from the sickness.

Because the item now discarded next to me was his necklace and I could have sworn I threw it out with their other gifts when I finally attained my freedom from their clutches…

I was completely spent, lungs still seeking additional oxygen and legs sore from where they were wrapped around his. Chan was always rough when he was feeling particularly possessive, hands determined to bruise every inch of my skin along with the deep marks from his fangs. He had taken a lot of blood and despite the offered chocolate now discarded on the side table, I was incredibly light-headed.

“Y/N,” Chan said, fingers tracing a rather nasty bite mark he had left on my shoulder. “Can you look at me, sweetheart?” It was difficult, but I managed to turn my head enough to meet his gaze, startled by how red his eyes glowed under the influence of fresh blood. Chan’s fingers traced along the edges of my lips, forcefully inserting themselves inside and I managed enough strength to lightly tongue my way across the tips. He shivered at that, removing his hand before reaching behind him for the gorgeous necklace I had noticed briefly on his nightstand before he had pushed my face into the mattress. “For you,” he said, helping me into a sitting position so that he could clasp the chain around my neck, golden pendant hanging heavy between the dips of my collarbones. “Perfect,” he soothed into my ear, growling around a husky “mine” before he was kissing a trail down the side of my arm.

Present

I woke up the next morning with a splitting headache that only responded to three painkillers washed down with a glass of cold water. It was a Saturday which meant I had the day off from work and I couldn’t be more grateful. After last night’s incident, I had finally managed to convince my roommate to go out and have fun while I dropped onto my bed with a heavy sigh. The only way I could calm myself down was by repeating assurances that I must have forgotten Chan’s necklace in the small bonfire I had made of the expensive things they had bought for me. It must have gotten stuck in the bottom of my pocket which explains its presence in the laundry room. There was simply no other explanation. But a shiver still ran its way down my spine when I recalled the way Chan had looked at me before I bolted out the front door. “I will always find you,” he had snarled the warning before I was lost into the unforgiving darkness of the night.

I ran home from the hospital, throwing my belongings into a suitcase before booking a one-way trip back home, far away from these horrible monsters who I had willingly entertained for the past year of my life. The only positive was the fact that I had graduated which meant I was in no way expected to stick around any longer. Instead, I uprooted up my life and moved back home where I felt safer, finding my current roommate who willingly offered me her unused second bedroom. I could’ve afforded to live alone, but there’s no way that I could manage a solitary arrangement without losing my mind. And I didn’t have my parents because I was far too prideful to crawl back to them considering the unfortunate way our last encounter had ended when my father told me that I could never amount to anything on my own.

They wanted me to attend a local community college before marrying the son of my dad’s business partner to demonstrate loyalty between the two brands. There was no way I would allow my parents to strip away something that belonged exclusively to me. My mother had ranted all night long when I missed my scheduled reservation, telling me that no boy would ever want me. I wish she had been right because I might have avoided the eight consecutive nightmares who entered my life one by one with every intent of bringing me down.

Regardless, I couldn’t change the past if I wanted to focus on the future, and I was doing well for myself these days without my parents or the Miroh Coven. I was assured that I could get through this unpleasant stage of my life because I had every intention of rising through the ranks. My dream was to open my own business one day and marry someone who could show me both love and respect. Because that was what was missing when I served the Miroh Coven. They might have insisted that they loved me, but they certainly held no respect for the woman they wanted to enslave, especially Jisung.

In fact, Han Jisung might have been the worst of the three brothers. You see, Chan’s claim as a leader only went as far as legalities required, having someone’s name down to attribute ownership. But Chan was just as much leader as Jisung and Changbin. The three brothers were thicker than thieves, having grown up together in a despicable orphanage when they were younger. They weren’t bound by blood, but by something much stronger. When they were turned by an older vampire who envisioned them as perfect little soldiers, they decided that they were owed something for all the years of torment they endured. They turned against their sire, freeing themselves from his control, before forming their own tight-knit clan to claim. Throughout the years, they lived in the Miroh Mansion while forming their very own elaborate enterprise and becoming very wealthy in the process. One of the very first things they did as CEOs was to tear down the orphanage they hated and replace it with one of their office buildings. Next, they tracked down everyone that had ever mistreated them, writing down the names in a disheveled notebook that I had discovered one night in Jisung’s nightstand. Some of the names had already been marked out, but there were still so many left, and I didn’t realize at the time what exactly I was holding in my hands until it was too late.

I shivered at the memory, trying to will it away, but it was already forcing itself to play out again in my mind with perfect clarity:

1 Year Ago

To save costs on ridiculous surcharges, and to make things easier for the coven, I had recently moved into the Miroh Mansion with my eight benefactors. They cleaned a room for me on the top floor where Chan, Changbin, and Jisung also lived in relative peace. The eight of them had been thrilled when I agreed to their proposal, talking nonstop about our new situation. Of course, I didn’t intend for it to hold any sort of permanence, but I didn’t dare speak out against Felix because the younger boy had a vicious temper and lashed out violently when things didn’t go his way.

Nevertheless, I quickly settled in with the others and their regular routine. I came to discover that Chan, Changbin, and Jisung were often missing throughout the day, but I figured it had something to do with their business. As for the others, Hyunjin spent a lot of time in the attic where he had attempted to recreate a dance studio, often requesting that I sit and watch him as he moved to the gentle music playing from an older record player. Sometimes, Felix joined him too, but for the most part, Felix liked to play with the younger boys, Seungmin and Jeongin, in their rooms or in mine. They loved video games and I remember countless hours spent playing with the three of them as they giggled and laughed like the harmless school boys I once believed them to be. Occasionally, Minho liked to poke his head in when we were being too loud, scolding us because he was concentrating on his newest art project.

But the mood shifted considerably once Chan, Changbin, and Jisung came home. Immediately, the other vampires would rush downstairs to greet the brothers. It was the same occurrence every night and I was ignorant at first until I finally mustered the courage to ask Chan why they were so eager to see them. The older man had chuckled at me. “We’re their sires, Y/N. They experience a lot of discomfort without us around.”

“Sires?”

Chan explained the concept to me patiently. “Seungmin and Jeongin are sired to me and Hyunjin and Felix are sired to Changbin.”

“And Minho is sired to Jisung,” I said and Chan had smiled at me proudly like I had just discovered something profound.

“When we come home, it’s important that we reinforce our bond. Otherwise, some very bad things might happen.”

I had nodded like that made perfect sense to me. I was really tired and wanted to simply crawl into Chan’s arms and fall asleep. Chan had realized my intentions, holding me close while running his fingers through the messy strands of my air.

The next evening, Jisung summoned me into his bedroom. “I’m hungry, little one,” he said, drawing me onto the bed to slowly strip me out of my clothes. The very first-time Jisung had attempted to remove my shirt, I freaked out and demanded to know why it was necessary. Jisung had smiled, a cunning manipulative behavior that I hadn’t fully realized at the time. “I don’t want to ruin your clothes.”

Of course, his intentions became evident as our sessions increased and I finally gave in and let Jisung fuck me because it did feel really good when he was inside while drawing far too much blood from my carotid artery. It became just another part of our routine, Jisung drawing me into his bed before sliding his cock inside before biting viciously on the side of my neck. I moaned from under him, focusing on the way his cock slid in and out as opposed to the dizziness I was experiencing from losing too much blood at once. Jisung only stopped when I orgasmed, tightening around his cock before he emptied himself between my legs, pressing sweet kisses to my chest before pulling his flaccid length out of my sensitive opening.

“Sleep,” he whispered close to my ear. I whined because I hated it when he left me alone after sex.

“Sungie,” I said, trying to get his attention. I was incredibly drowsy, fighting against every desire to close my eyes.

Jisung chuckled, entertaining my wandering hands. “I have business that requires my attention and you need to rest for me.”

I watched through lidded eyes as Jisung opened his nightstand, drawing out an unfamiliar notebook. He grabbed a loose pen from the organizer on his desk before scratching something out against the paper. Afterward, the notebook was returned to its previous location before Jisung was silently escaping the bedroom. I groaned loudly at the soreness in my neck, massaging the tender skin before allowing myself the sleep I deserved.

It felt like minutes before an unexpected scream pierced through the walls, startling me into consciousness. I jolted up in my bed, far too quickly for my poor body which was still recovering from Jisung’s feeding. I shook my head to clear the black spots, opening them again only for my eyes to latch onto Jisung’s nightstand. I swallowed hard, curiosity getting the better of me as I slowly pulled on the drawer’s handle.

The notebook wasn’t very large but I could tell it was old and well-used. I slowly opened the first page, frowning as I read the unfamiliar names listed in random order. A few of them had been carefully blacked out, indecipherable now that they had been clearly forgotten. I was growing distracted by the names, trying to piece together the mysterious puzzle, when another noisy scream reminded me why I had been so suddenly disturbed. Carefully, I returned the notebook to its home, slipping on a pair of slippers before leaving Jisung’s bedroom.

The hallways were dark and empty with no other sounds alerting me to the unexpected scream that had previously penetrated my drowsiness. I started down the familiar purple carpets, holding tightly to the railing as I descended the grand staircase. It was then that I noticed light spilling from a crack in the door leading to the basement. I had never been down there before, warned explicitly by Chan to never enter that room. But his warning did nothing to assuage my curiosity, so I ignored the alarms going off in the back of my head before reaching out for the door.

There were several voices now, clearly audible, attempting to speak over one another. It sounded like an argument as I started down the stairs, frowning when I smelled something that reminded me distinctly of a sharp metallic odor. “It’s fine,” I heard Jisung’s voice growl and I paused in my steps, wondering if I would get in trouble for interrupting.

“So messy,” Chan spoke now, clearly irritated. “I thought you planned better than this.”

“I did,” Jisung said. “Consider the girl an added bonus.”

I didn’t like the way they were talking, continuing my trek into the basement until I could finally see the three brothers standing together. But I immediately regretted my decision, covering the scream threatening to rip itself free from my chest as I discovered the corpses hanging from the ceiling. It was a disgusting sight, limbs dismembered and lying out across the floor. There was blood everywhere, covering Chan, Changbin, and Jisung, thick and revolting in the way it stained the concrete floors. I instinctively took a step back, wincing when the stair creaked under my weight. Almost immediately, three pairs of eyes turned in my direction and I fell backward in my haste to retreat.

Chan was on me in an instant, cursing when his touch forced a loud scream to pierce the silence of the room. “Relax, sweetheart,” he said, grabbing my shoulders despite my thrashing. He forced me to meet his eyes and the influence of his power was enough to render me unconscious once again.

Present

“You look beautiful today, Y/N.”

I blushed, of course, from Mark’s tender compliment. “Thank you,” I managed sheepishly, watching as my boss offered me a cheeky smile before entering his office.

Ever since I left the Miroh Coven, I had been working a part-time position as the Secretary to a wealthy CEO. I didn’t mind my job, enjoying the menial tasks I was usually instructed to obey. It was quite mind-numbing, a worthy distraction when I first started working here hollowing the horrors I had endured from the Miroh Coven. The pay was excellent and I was able to help my roommate afford rent while reliably buying myself luxuries like a new mattress or a fresh wardrobe since my old clothes reminded me too much of the past.

The hours were also minimal, and I often found myself sitting down at my desk only to look up at the clock and realize my day had already concluded. Subsequently, I was able to leave the office on time every day to join the steady stream of afternoon traffic. Afterward, I might stop by a restaurant to pick up something for dinner, or occasionally drive through the downtown marketplace because I enjoyed shopping for fresh produce. It was all quite nice and I enjoyed settling into my new life with a deep sigh of relief.

It had almost been nine months since I last saw any of the boys and other than the unfortunate encounter with Chan’s necklace, I was sure that I would never have to experience anything so unattractive ever again. I was slowly regaining my confidence, joining my roommate several times when she wanted to see a movie or shop at one of the outdoor malls. Everything was starting to work out for me, which meant that I was also starting to comfortably take more risks.

“Please have fun tonight,” my roommate said, practically dragging me along with her as we entered one of her favorite clubs. After much convincing, I had finally given in and allowed my roommate to take me out late at night for drinks and dancing. “This is a nice place,” she said, leading me to the bar. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

I nodded my head, looking around the relaxed atmosphere. It was certainly a much tamer club than what I was used to visiting, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Of course, the influence of alcohol had a way of making a person far more willing to lower their defenses. “One glass,” I said, accepting the fruity beverage from the bartender before my roommate and I found a table near the edge of the dance-floor.

“So many handsome faces,” my roommate remarked. “Interested in anyone?”

I scoffed at her question because I seriously doubted that I would willingly jump into a new relationship anytime soon. “Really?”

“Just wondering,” my roommate shrugged, drinking down the remainder of her scotch. “Wanna dance?”

I waved her off, deciding that I was okay with enjoying my drink at our table. My roommate let out a giggle, locking eyes with a suave businessman who looked ready to devour her whole. “I’ll check on you soon,” she promised and I quickly lost her in the mass of bodies occupying the dance floor.

I rolled my eyes because I knew better than to expect my roommate’s return. Instead, I sipped at my drink while admiring the friendly atmosphere of the bar, neon colors dazzling in my peripheral vision. It reminded me of my younger college days when I was swept away by the illusion of freedom which independent adulthood offered, attending every frat party I could find.

I grinned at the memories, feeling way too old to try anything like that ever again. It was fun once, being so irresponsible, but now it was time to start paying bills and scratch my head when I attempted to do my taxes. Freedom was addicting, and I could see why so many younger people were enamored with the idea of moving away from home and conquering the world.

Wistfully, I must digress because I often lose myself in my thoughts, and I can’t afford a break in concentration. Instead, I sipped tentatively at my drink, watching the moving sea of bodies. I was entirely focused, which allowed me to raise my guard at the approach of an unfamiliar figure.

“Excuse me? Do you have the time?”

I shrugged loosely because it was an innocent request from someone who clearly wasn’t looking for anything ill-intended. On instinct, I reached into my bag to grab my phone. “It’s almost midnight,” I said, thinking that our interaction would be short-lived.

Instead, the man was insistent, a cold hand digging harshly against my shoulder. “Don’t you know that it’s dangerous to stay up so late, sweetheart?”

The accent had been disguised, but now I recognized it thick and heavy in my ear. I couldn’t even remember to scream before his hand was enclosed over my mouth, teeth nipping at my jaw. Another body slipped into my roommate’s chair, brows raised as he reached for her discarded glass. “Is there room for some company, Y/N?” Jisung asked, blonde hair hanging low in his eyes.

I shook my head desperately, fresh tears clouding my vision. “Where are your manners, sweetheart?” Chan asked with a harsh tone and I was suddenly jerked to the side, a strong hand holding my chin into place.

“What a coincidence, Y/N,” Changbin growled. “We have unfinished business in this little town of yours.”

“You’re coming with us,” Chan said, ignoring the way I fought against him as he practically forced me out of my chair. “Look at me,” he snarled, eyes trained on mine as I started to drift out of consciousness.

I was slowly starting to realize that the implications of being a sire went far beyond just simply turning someone immortal. For example, I knew how cruel Changbin could be, turning violent on a whim, especially if you disobeyed him. He was the one who liked to punish me when he thought I was being bad, dragging out all sorts of special toys to use against my body. Paddles and lashes, whips and spikes, everything Changbin needed was lined perfectly along the walls of the special room he had decorated for himself whenever he wanted to play with someone. He was a sadist in every sense of the word, enjoying the sensation of watching someone suffer for his own pleasure. When he had first brought me into the room, I had immediately protested, close to tears when Changbin had cooed at me and insisted that I would never be forced to do anything outside of my comfort zone. He spoke with a wicked tongue, dark eyes revealing the truth if I had been so willing to look for it, but I eventually allowed him to have his way with me. Tears streaming freely down the side of my face while Changbin’s tongue traced the salty rivulets with a groan.

But Changbin wasn’t the only one with a fiery temper and desire for pain and suffering. His fledgling vampires, Felix and Hyunjin, had decisively taken on his more brutal aspects. Felix lost control whenever I said something to offend him, growling out insults while I tried to avoid his hands. Hyunjin had special permission to use Changbin’s secret room to explore his own masochism, and I had accidentally wandered into one of his sessions at the beginning of our arrangement before things had turned sexual between us. I remember the look of existential terror on the girl’s face that I had foolishly misplaced as pleasure, crying out not in ecstasy but in pain.

On the other hand, Jisung was the manipulative and cunning brother who thought out everything instead of living on a whim according to his pleasures. It was this same trait that I discovered in Minho who also shared Jisung’s tendency to plan out his movements. The only difference between them was that Minho was silent in his execution while Jisung was loud in letting everyone know that he had gotten his way.

Finally, there was Bang Chan, the legal leader of the Miroh Coven. Chan was the last of the brothers to attempt a siring bond because he had never found the right person. I would never know for sure why Seungmin and Jeongin were “the right people,” but Chan doted on them in every sense of the word. He treasured them like they were his possessions, buying them expensive clothes and allowing them leeway when their bloodlust tended to get the best of them. It was up to the sire to teach their fledglings how to properly drink blood from a source, but Chan had decided not to blink an eye when Seungmin or Jeongin accidentally took things a step too far.

Just like Chan, Seungmin and Jeongin were also extremely possessive, especially when they considered something to belong exclusively to them. I can only wish that I had noticed sooner, the way the three of them liked to leave their marks on me in various ways, whether it be through a harsh bite or buying me something nice and insisting that I wear it at all times. Seungmin and Jeongin were also dangerous because there had been times when I felt like I was on death’s door, feeling them drink my blood like they would never stop.

Sadly, I thought I had escaped all of that, so imagine the utter sense of dread crippling my entire body when I woke up to see Chan, Changbin, and Jisung standing over me as they watched me slowly awaken. Chan was the first to react, sitting down on the edge of the bed as he appraised me. “Sweetheart,” he said and a shiver ran down my spine. “Don’t you know how worried we were when you ran away from us like that?”

My lower lip trembled and I bit down on it hard. “I couldn’t stay.”

“Why not?” Chan asked, looking every bit as patient as I remembered.

“You hurt people,” I whispered. “And you hurt me too.”

“Hurt you?” Chan huffed, a look of annoyance masking his features. “We protected you and cared for you, sweetheart.”

“You belong to us,” Jisung said, gaze cold as he watched me from afar.

I sniffled, slowly losing my last shred of pride as I tried not to cry in front of these horrible vampires. His words reminded me of the night I left, rushing out into the streets with blood covering my body. “I don’t have to work for you anymore,” I said.

Changbin growled. “The arrangement meant more than that, Y/N.”

“We love you,” Chan said, reaching for my hands and I didn’t have the strength to fight him. “Remember? We can be together forever.”

I was crying now, triggered by the all-too-familiar words spoken 9 months ago when I entered the Miroh Mansion for the final time.

Eight Months Ago

Jeongin was still young enough to celebrate his birthday, and the rest of the Clan had decided that nothing was too good for their precious youngest member. I remember going shopping with Chan, buying party decorations without any consideration for how much it would cost them. Earlier that week, Jisung and I had visited the bakery to order Jeongin a custom-made birthday cake, including a cheesy message at the bottom to commemorate the occasion. Everyone was in good spirits and I had finally stopped thinking about the bodies in their basement, believing Jisung when he told me that they had been donated to the Miroh Clan to use as a source of fresh blood. “It sometimes happens,” Jisung said. “Whenever there’s an accident and nobody claims the bodies, they send them here for us to use.”

It was an extremely unreasonable explanation but I refused to believe anything else in an attempt to protect myself from the truth. I was determined to move past it, forcing myself to smile at Jisung’s cheesy jokes or Chan’s attempts to make me laugh. I must have been a good actor because they stopped hovering around me at every possible opportunity, watching me like they were waiting for me to bolt out the door and never return.

“Y/N!” Jeongin had said, jumping into my bed to wake me up that morning. “Guess what?” he giggled, adorable face mere inches from my own.

“Hmmm?” I wondered, smirking as he practically beamed with excitement.

“It’s my birthday,” Jeongin said. “I’m supposed to be 40-years-old today!”

“Congratulations,” I snickered, deciding that it wasn’t the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard.

“Will you come play with me and Felix?” Jeongin asked. “We can do whatever we want until Chan gets home.”

That’s another thing I had noticed about the fledglings. They never really liked to talk about anyone except for their sired master. In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I would think that Jeongin had no idea that Jisung and Changbin even existed. “Okay,” I said. “Let me take a shower first.”

Jeongin allowed me to get ready in peace and quiet, and I enjoyed the feeling of the water scalding my skin as I stood under the faucet for far longer than normal. Afterward, I pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, finding Felix, Jeongin, and Seungmin in Minho’s room, arguing over who would join teams. I yawned when I entered, wary of the way Minho was watching me from his bed, legs stretched out in front of him as his eyes followed me all the way to where Felix was holding out my controller.

I spent the remainder of the afternoon with the younger boys, ignoring Minho completely as I let Jeongin win several times even though I was much better at Street Fighter. “Finally,” Jeongin exclaimed, racing for the door before I could question him.

“Chan’s home,” Minho informed me, holding out a hand which I reluctantly accepted, trying not to react when Minho leaned in to press his lips against my delicate pulse point.

Downstairs, all of the vampires were busy setting up Jeongin’s party. Streamers hung from the overhead banisters and balloons floated mindlessly through the room as Chan hugged Jeongin tightly against his chest. “Were you a good boy today?” he asked the youngest who nodded enthusiastically in response.

“Y/N,” Jisung called my name. “Help me in the kitchen.”

I obeyed immediately, finding Jisung situating candles on top of the cake we had purchased earlier that week. I was struck by the normalcy of the situation, standing next to Jisung as he instructed me to start boiling a pot of water. Apparently, despite their delicate diets, on special occasions, the Vampires could enjoy human food and Jeongin’s favorite was being prepared for him.

It was chaotic in the Mansion as everyone attended to their various responsibilities, amusing little Jeongin who flitted from person to person. Although, more often than not, Jeongin stuck close to Chan’s side, talking to his sire about all the nuances of his day. Chan listened patiently, nodding along as he finished the elaborate ribbon around one of Jeongin’s birthday presents. “Is everyone ready?”

We all stood together in the kitchen, singing for Jeongin who was vibrating from head to toe. He blew out the candles and beamed at the accompanying applause. “Happy birthday, Jeongin,” I said, allowing him to pull me into an impossibly strong grip.

Meanwhile, the other vampires slowly congregated into the living room where Jeongin’s presents were waiting for him. “Y/N,” Chan said, holding me back as Jeongin raced out of the kitchen. “Help me carry these drinks.”

I wrinkled my nose because they were obviously filled with blood. Nonetheless, I obeyed diligently, accepting one of the trays before following Chan into the crowded foyer. “Channie!” Jeongin said, holding up a delicate pocket watch. “It’s so nice!”

Chan smiled warmly at Jeongin, ruffling his hair playfully as he started handing out the glasses. Changbin grabbed me by the hips as I passed in front of him, pulling me into his lap as he took a sip from his glass. “It’s not as good as yours,” he teased, lips scarlet from the liquid.

I chose not to respond to his comment, trying to relax against his body. “Y/N,” Chan said before handing me a glass. I studied it cautiously while I gingerly took the glass from him.

“What is it?”

“Just some wine,” Chan shrugged indifferently and I nodded before trying a sip of the beverage. Almost immediately, I winced at the taste and Changbin chuckled at my obvious aversion.

“It was very expensive,” he lightly chastised me and I tried not to notice the smell as I forced more of the wine down my throat.

Meanwhile, Jeongin continued to open more of his gifts, expressing his gratitude towards each of his older members as he tried on various pieces of clothing and jewelry. When he finally got to my present, he shot me a mischievous smirk. “Y/N…”

“Open it,” I encouraged him.

Jeongin needed no further encouragement, ripping through the wrapping paper before discovering the portable gaming system tucked neatly in the box it once came in. “For you to practice,” I said, pleased at his grateful expression. It was an older system that once belonged to my brother, but I didn’t have a need for it, and Jeongin talked relentlessly about how cool it would be to play the older versions of the games he loved.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely.

I was warmed by his genuine reaction, feeling nothing but affection for the boy. “You’re welcome.”

“What a good girl,” Changbin said, tipping my glass back against my lips. “You shouldn’t waste it.”

I narrowed my eyes, wondering why he really cared about how expensive the wine cost. After all, these were the same men who brought new things into the house every day after flashing their shiny credit cards at whichever cashier had the privilege of accommodating their requests. Still, I knew better than to upset Changbin, especially on poor Jeongin’s birthday, so I downed the rest of the nasty drink before placing the glass down on the side table. “Shall we watch a movie?” Jisung asked, eyes glinting rather maniacally as he studied my discarded drink.

“Please!” Jeongin chirped. “Something scary.”

I hated the idea of watching a horror movie, but I couldn’t protest when everyone else was in total agreement for once. Instead, I followed the rest of the boys into the main living room, resisting a sigh when Chan drug me down next to him on the sectional. “Whatever you want, Jeongin,” Jisung said, tossing the younger the remote control.

“Dracula!” Jeongin declared, an amusing pick perhaps if these Vampires were less violent.

But my opinion held no weight and the film began while Felix turned off the lights. Bathed in darkness, I resisted the urge to curl in tighter against Chan as I tried not to think about the film playing on-screen. Everyone else was comfortable, settled in their usual pairs which meant Minho was sitting between Jisung’s legs while Felix and Hyunjin flanked Changbin on either side. Seungmin and Jeongin sat close to me and Chan as they watched the television with wide, eager eyes.

I tried to turn off my mind, focusing on a distant spot beyond the edge of the screen. It worked for a while, keeping my mind occupied away from the movie playing in the background. In fact, I might have managed to survive the rest of the evening had it not been for Chan whose lips were suddenly brushing along the length of my neck.

I immediately flinched away. “What are you doing?” I whispered, unrelenting when his hand wrapped around the back of my head to force me into place.

“I’m hungry,” he smirked against my exposed skin, teeth sharp against my delicate flesh.

“Why now?” I said, looking over at the others because there was no way they couldn’t hear the two of us.

“Just one bite,” Chan said and I rolled my eyes but bared my neck for him, hoping he would be fast about the unexpected ordeal. He was quick to adjust me on his lap, fixing our positions to his liking. Chan’s teeth penetrated my skin gently and I could feel his mouth latch on tightly as he started to drink from me. I tried not to react, glancing away at the other members who were still watching the movie. With the exception of Changbin, who was looking at me with a dangerous smirk that immediately alerted me to the fact that something was terribly wrong.

As the seconds ticked away, I realized that Chan had no intention of stopping and my instincts kicked in as the storm of anxiety registered throughout my slowly weakening body. I jerked away from Chan who must have been caught off-guard, blood spraying into the air around us as the wound had not been properly closed. But my decision proved to be a necessary distraction because Jeongin and Seungmin both immediately reacted to the intense smell, teeth bared as they sought the source of the blood coating the furniture and my clothes. I managed to dodge Jeongin as he jumped at me first, colliding into Chan to send them both falling back into the floor.

With my hand pressed against my neck, I started for the front door, aware of Changbin closing in behind me. But the older boy was unprepared for Seungmin’s attack whose instincts probably insisted that someone was trying to steal his fresh supply of blood. Changbin let out a grunt as he wrestled with a feral Seungmin, receiving help from Felix and Hyunjin who were trying to protect their sire. Through the haze clouding my eyes, I could see Jisung holding back Minho whose sharpened incisors were cutting deeply into the thin skin of his lips. “You belong to us!” Jisung snarled.

“We can be together forever,” Chan said, still distracted by a wild Jeongin whose dark eyes were starting to look very unfamiliar. It was only then that I realized I had been tricked. They had been trying to turn me without my permission. The expensive wine Changbin insisted I drink must have been someone’s blood because when a human died with vampire blood in their system…

I forced those thoughts away, deciding it was far more important to focus on escaping, and the feral vampires provided the perfect distraction. I managed to make it out onto the street, finding my car parked at the sidewalk. I started the ignition, blasting cold air through the vents to keep me conscious as I pulled out onto the main road. Blood was still pouring steadily from my wound when I stopped next to the Emergency room entrance, ignoring a nearby policeman who was clearly displeased that I was blocking the road before I finally succumbed to the darkness with a grateful sigh.

Present

What have they done? I questioned immediately when I realized that I was back in my regular bedroom the following morning. The normality of the situation should’ve been impossible because I was certain that Chan, Jisung, and Changbin had inexplicably decided to hold me hostage after finding me at that stupid club. “Remember? We can be together forever.”

However, no matter how much I tried to make sense of the preceding night’s events, I couldn’t understand why they would allow me to leave after making such promises to turn me. I don’t recall escaping, especially considering my weakened condition, which meant that the three men had brought me back to my apartment on their own accord. I mean, was this just another attempt to mess with me?

I glanced over at my nightstand, discovering a faded envelope sitting on top of my cell phone. I decided to check my messages first, relieved when I saw my roommate’s contact name. She had apparently spent the night with someone she met at the bar, but she assured me that she was safe and would be home later after work. I was glad that she was fairing better than her roommate, and I turned my attention to the envelope. The handwriting on the front was familiar, and I gently tore through the sealed contents. Inside was a folded letter, and my hands were shaking when I smoothed out the paper to comprehend the brief message written in perfect cursive:

Y/N,

Although our reunion was postponed, please accept this invitation on behalf of the Miroh Coven for your company tonight at 8:00 pm sharp.

Sincerely,

Bang Chan

What did he mean by postponing our reunion?

Unfortunately, I had no time to try and figure it out because the buzzing sound of our doorbell abruptly pulled me out of bed, and I wordlessly tucked the envelope inside my pocket. My roommate and I never received visitors, and there was a small part of me that feared for the possibility that one of the Miroh Coven members was waiting outside in the hallway. Yet, when I searched through the door viewer, I realized that a uniformed police officer was carefully sorting through a file of paperwork in her hands.

“Hello?” I asked cautiously, opening the door just enough to acknowledge the unfamiliar woman.

“Y/N?” the officer questioned.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“My name is Officer Smith. I have a few questions for you concerning your previous employer,” the officer said and I was left shaking from head to toe as I allowed her to come inside.

“Do you have somewhere we could sit down?” she asked, and I nodded curtly before leading us both in the kitchen.

“Coffee?” I asked, crowding around the machine in the kitchen.

“That would be nice.”

We were both silent while I served the warm beverage, holding my mug tightly between my hands. “Do you want any creamer?”

“I’m fine,” the officer said. “I just want you to be comfortable. There’s some very troubling things I want to talk to you about.”

“I see,” I nodded, looking intently at the file she had brought with her.

“We’re in the middle of an investigation,” she continued. “It concerns the Miroh Coven. According to our records, you were previously employed with them as a blood donor.”

“Yes, but I was forced to leave.”

“Oh?”

“We had a disagreement.”

“Well, I want you to know that they’re in a lot of trouble,” the officer explained. “We found the body of a young woman on the side of the highway completely drained of blood. When we ran her license, we discovered that she had been employed by the Miroh Coven as a blood donor during the past few months. However, when we asked the Coven about her employment, they told us a very similar story about...a disagreement.”

I shivered despite the heat from the liquid trailing down my throat. “I just...I had a lot of trouble with balancing my college lectures with their schedule. It was very demanding.”

“Of course,” the officer said, but she still wore a look of suspicion. “Normally, we might be inclined to attribute these kinds of things to a rogue attack, but there’s just too many factors that coincide with this case.”

“Like what?”

“For starters, we’ve been unable to contact their previous employees, with the exception of yourself,” the officer explained. “It seems like the Miroh Coven has a history of making their employees disappear without a trace, and I find it very problematic that the young lady we found yesterday had clearly suffered at the hands of a vampire.”

“How many other employees have they had?”

“Quite a few,” the officer said. “I think there’s something bigger going on, and I really need for you to be honest with me, Y/N, because you might be able to help us stop them.”

I swallowed hard. “You think they killed those other donors.”

“It’s very likely,” she said. “Can you tell me anything else about your resignation?”

I found it impossible to make eye contact with the officer, especially when I could still remember everything that had happened the night I left the Miroh Coven. My intention had always been to forget about those terrible circumstances because I was determined to move forward with my life, but all those other ill-fated donors suddenly made it very difficult to remain silent. “They were always nice to me,” I said. “We had a reasonable arrangement because they paid for my schooling and even let me live with them to assuage the cost of on-campus housing. It helped me finish school, but it was always meant to be a temporary arrangement.”

“I understand,” she nodded. “Did they know you were planning to leave?”

“No, but they were keeping secrets from me too,” I said. “A lot of strange things happened when I was living at the mansion.”

“Like?”

“One night, I found a pair of bodies in the basement, but Jisung told me that they were donated...” I trailed off with a choked whimper. “They were also planning to turn me into one of them.”

“Did they tell you this?”

“I guess I didn’t have the right to know,” I said. “I escaped that night and drove myself to the hospital. After that, I moved back here and tried to forget about everything that happened.”

“I understand that it was traumatic for you,” the officer said. “I’m sorry you had to bring it up again.”

I shook my head. “If they’re hurting other people, then I don’t mind the pain.”

The officer sighed, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “Have they tried to contact you since then?”

“Yeah,” I sniffled, reaching into my pocket to retrieve the folded letter. “They actually found me at a bar the other night, but they let me go for some reason. I found this letter on my nightstand.”

The officer read over the simple message and frowned. “Were you planning on meeting them tonight?”

“I don’t want to see them ever again.”

“Interesting,” the officer said. “It seems like they really like you.”

“They always told me that,” I said, remembering their whispered words of affection while sharp teeth penetrated my skin.

“I’m going to be completely transparent with you, Y/N,” the officer said. “My station is leading an investigation into the Miroh Coven, but we still need a lot of evidence to bring a case to the court of law.”

“You can have the letter,” I suggested, but she shook her head.

“It needs to be more concrete,” she said. “I need something that condemns them for the previous disappearances of those other blood donors.”

“Maybe a record or something?”

“I wish we had one,” the officer sighed. “We know those donors were employed by the Coven, but there’s no evidence of what happened to them or why they were dismissed.”

“Chan, Jisung, and Changbin own their own company,” I said. “There might be something in one of those buildings?”

“I doubt they’d be careless,” the officer said. “Actually, I’d imagine that the three of them would keep those things close, and there’s probably very few people who they trust inside the mansion.”

I could feel my entire body trembling at her knowing look. “Actually, Y/N, it seems like they trust you.”

“You want me to go to that dinner tonight with them,” I whispered, completely missing her next words because my heart was beating too loudly, drowning out the other noises around the apartment. It felt like I was falling back into a dark place, and I was desperate to find the light again.

Officer Smith suddenly reached out, fingers cold against my arm, and she effectively pulled me back into the conversation. “I know it’s a lot to ask from you, Y/N, but the answers are inside that house! Whatever you might find could bring justice to the people they’ve taken advantage of over the years.”

It was easy for her to tell me to return to the Coven when she desperately needed my help, but why did it have to be my responsibility to return to a place where I had once escaped tragedy? Nevertheless, I could feel the weight of her gaze, imploring me to undertake such a terrifying mission, and I wondered whether or not I could still protect myself when so many other people were depending on me? “Okay,” I finally said. “I’ll do it.”

The Miroh Mansion was still dark and foreboding, reminding me of the very first time I walked through the front door for my interview with Chan. It was a pivotal moment in my life, but one whose consequences I never understood until I drove to a hospital with blood pouring from a wound meant to serve as the last reminder of my mortality. I had nightmares about the Coven kidnapping me and forcing me to return, but I could’ve never imagined that I would come back here of my own decision.

I slowly knocked on the front door, swallowing down my fear because I couldn’t afford for the Coven to think anything was wrong. “Act as if we had never gotten involved,” the police had instructed me.

“I’ll try,” I had promised, and I intended to do whatever was possible to help the innocent. However, I wouldn’t go as far as risking my life to expose these horrible vampires, even if dozens of missing donors were counting on me for justice.

“Y/N,” Chan greeted smoothly when he met me outside on the porch, dark eyes swallowing me into their endless depths. “I’m glad you saw things our way.”

He invited me inside, and I anxiously made my way across the familiar carpeted hallway leading into the living room. I wasn’t surprised to see the other Coven members waiting, but it still didn’t stop my heart from leaping into my throat when I realized that I could very well die tonight if I wasn’t careful. “My dearest Y/N kindly accepted our invitation,” Jisung remarked, gliding across the floor with an impossible speed. I could smell blood on his lips as he wrapped an arm around my waist, escorting me to the lovely sectional where Minho was watching me through lidded eyes.

“You look beautiful,” Changbin contributed, holding a glass of red liquid daintily between his fingers. Felix and Hyunjin sat next to him, looking at me with barely constrained hunger. “You’re just in time for drinks.”

I stiffened instinctively under Jisung’s hold because I remembered the last time I had been offered to drink with them. “It’s just wine,” Minho smirked, holding out a glass for me to take.

I accepted it cautiously, tasting at the rim only to discover a grape-flavored taste that certainly didn’t remind me of blood. Still, I declined to drink further, holding my glass while Chan started a conversation about their business, eliminating the initial silence that had occupied the room upon my arrival. Seungmin and Jeongin happily listened, focused on their sire with an attentiveness that reminded me of my previous stay with the Miroh Coven when I had once been ignorant of their bond. “Dinner should be ready soon,” Chan reassured me and I could only nod in response.

“Do you mind if I use the restroom?” I asked, and Jisung reluctantly let me go while eight pairs of eyes watched me all the way up the staircase.

I took a deep breath, waiting until Chan started talking again before disappearing around the corner into the room I knew he maintained as an office. I immediately started for his desk, pulling out well-organized files and the notebooks full of his writings. Every so often, I glanced up at the clock hanging above the doorway because I knew that I could probably only manage twenty minutes unsupervised before someone came looking for me.

“Please,” I sighed, reading over a promising file tentatively titled extraneous paperwork. “Holy shit!”

Pictures.

Dozens of them.

They were incriminating, various bodies splayed at unattractive angles. Close-up shots of mangled corpses drenched in blood with empty eyes staring straight at the camera. I flipped them over and gasped, reading the names that sounded way too familiar to merely be a coincidence. “This is it,” I said, almost giddy with excitement despite the uncomfortable nausea twisting my stomach at the sight of these poor donors who had managed to fall victim to the merciless Coven.

I shuffled them together, restoring Chan’s office to its previous organization, before tucking the pictures inside the pocket of my jacket. I was more than ready to return downstairs, when I suddenly remembered a faint recollection of the little notebook I had once discovered in Jisung’s bedroom. It wasn’t that much further down the hallway, and I quickly jerked open the drawer of his nightstand, shoulders deflating in relief when I saw the tiny book waiting on top of his other belongings.

I gripped it tightly when I eventually retreated, resting my head against the door to his bedroom quietly because this was causing me more stress than I could handle. “Y/N?”

I immediately turned around, eyes widening in shock when I realized that Chan was waiting for me. I swallowed hard as I held my ground, keeping the journal behind me. “Did you need something, Chan?”

He didn’t respond right away, and I could feel myself growing smaller and smaller with every long second passing between us. Finally, Chan took a step in my direction. “You’ve been gone a while.”

I shifted anxiously. “I- I just remembered something in Jisung’s room. We used to look at it together when I lived here.”

Chan nodded, and I was relieved that he accepted my explanation. “We all missed you.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I missed you too.”

He closed his eyes, cherishing the lie that somehow sounded much more believable than it did inside my head. “Can you show me?”

“What?”

“In Jisung’s room,” Chan said. “What did he show you?”

I trembled as I leaned against the door. “I’m not sure if it was something he wanted to share.”

“I see,” Chan murmured. “It’s interesting because there’s something that I want to show you too.”

Chan walked away without another word, and I assumed that he wanted me to follow him. I ignored every instinct that was screaming for me to escape with my evidence because I wouldn’t make it the bottom of the staircase before a Coven member would prevent that from happening. Instead, I took slow steps on unsteady legs into Chan’s bedroom. I was inherently curious, but when he gently backed me against the wall, I understood perfectly well what he wanted.

His fingers were undoing the buttons on my shirt and I carefully shrugged off my jacket before he could find and apprehend the valuable photographs inside my pockets. I also made sure Jisung’s journal was hidden beneath the fabric before I allowed Chan to take me to his bed. The oldest vampire made no secret of his desires, tossing aside his shirt before tugging the fabric of my jeans down my legs. “Y/N,” he sighed, fingering the edges of my panties while his sharpened canines drew lines along my collarbones. My body reacted on instinct because it was impossible to resist Chan when he was looking at me like I was the answer to all of his problems. Despite everything he had done to me, I still responded to his touches and the taste of his skin on my lips. Instead of pushing him away, I held him close, occasionally glancing at my jacket waiting next to the door with the incriminating evidence necessary to end the Coven forever.

“Oh, Y/N,” he moaned. “I missed you.”

Maybe that was part of the reason why I didn’t resist because I knew that he would never bother me again once the police had their prosecution trial. It was an intoxicating sensation since I was the one with all the power and he was completely clueless to my intentions. He had no idea that I came back to spite the Coven instead of joining them like they wanted.

I watched him roll on a condom, erection prominent as he pushed slowly between my legs. I felt incredibly full, studying the pleasure on his face when he started to thrust inside of me. I looked at him the entire time with eyes wide open because I knew something that he didn’t and, while he was pleasuring me with his precious members waiting downstairs, I was taking back all that time spent in this mansion, knowing that they were more dangerous than anything I had ever encountered before.

His cock moved faster, and I reacted by spreading my legs wider for him, opening myself up to Chan’s advances. It didn’t take him long to come, and I finally closed my eyes when I felt his warm release through the thin latex of the condom. His kisses were familiar, but they also made me want to laugh because I was planning on betraying the people who claimed to love me, the vampires who actually did love me in their own messed up way.

“I love you,” he eventually said, but I didn’t respond, choosing instead to count the tiles on the ceiling overhead.

“Photos, names, addresses, detailed journal accounts...Y/N, you managed to find everything! We can cross-reference this stuff with the files and paperwork we already have.”

I smiled despite the circumstances, watching as two younger detectives sorted the files and pictures before retreating from the tiny interrogation room. “It wasn’t exactly easy for me.”

“Still, this is brilliant, Y/N,” Officer Smith exclaimed, and I felt satisfied knowing that I had done a good job. “We have enough evidence to start the raid.”

“Raid?”

She nodded. “You should know that Vampire raids are extremely rare, but I don’t think your Coven will surrender when we issue the warrant.”

I wrinkled my nose at the suggestion that I could ever belong to the Miroh Coven. “Is it safe?”

“It’s a commonplace occurrence and we’ve all received special training,” she said. “Hopefully, they’ll come to their senses and agree to a trial, but it won’t take much for a judge to officially convict them.”

“Will I have to be at the trial?” I asked, dreading the idea before it could even become official.

“I wouldn’t force you,” she replied. “A testimony would be critical, but this is enough to put them away for the rest of their immortal lives.”

I couldn’t imagine the dreaded reality of such a punishment. “What if they escape? They might try and track me down.”

“Witness protection,” she suggested. “We’ll accommodate you to the best of our abilities.”

“I understand the concept,” I said. “But they’ve found me before despite everything I did to hide.”

“Well, we can work out the details later,” she said. “For now, we need to prepare for the raid. We’ll start by sending in the evidence to the court to get our warrant for their immediate arrest.”

“Is it something that will happen soon?”

“I might have a way to expedite the process,” she grinned. “We’ve been on this case for long enough, bothering the courts for documents and employee records.”

I nodded slowly. “So everything is done?”

“For the most part,” she agreed. “We can commence stage two of our operation.”

“Thank god,” I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “I’m glad that it’s over.”

“Yes,” the officer said, but there was a reluctance in her tone that sent me immediately on edge. “Of course, we can always use your help with one last thing.”

“What could I do at this point? I’m not exactly trained for this sort of thing.”

“Yes, but we wouldn’t want the Coven to suspect anything,” she said. “They might try to leave before our warrant is formally issued. Until then, I think a distraction might hold their attention.”

“Me,” I intoned, narrowing my eyes because I wanted nothing more to do with those nasty vampires.

“We wouldn’t want them to suspect anything,” she said. “If you go back to the Coven, then they might lower their guard.”

“It was supposed to end,” I reminded her. “You said that I was finished with them.”

“I know we’re asking a lot of you,” Officer Smith said. “But this will be the last time you ever have to see them again.”

“You keep saying that,” I muttered, but we both knew that I was in too deep, which meant that I had no choice but to return to the mansion.

Felix greeted me at the door with his familiar smirk, escorting me inside to the bottom of the staircase. Today meant the official end of the Coven, but they were all completely ignorant to their impending punishment. “They want to discuss something with you,” Felix said, and I understood immediately who he was referring to despite the unnecessary pronoun game.

Still, I knew that I couldn’t keep them waiting, pausing outside of Chan’s office door before I heard someone invite me inside. I took a deep breath, opening the door to discover the three leaders waiting for me expectantly while wearing similar expressions of dark foreboding. “Y/N,” Chan said. “Have a seat.”

I obeyed instantly, looking at the Miroh Coven leader as he watched me with an unnerving attentiveness. “What’s going on? I asked.

“I think we have something serious to discuss,” Chan said and my heart was practically beating out of my chest as I studied Jisung and Changbin from the corner of my eye. They knew, I repeated to myself over and over again as I imagined a dozen different scenarios that all ended with my lifeless body thrown into some kind of river because they had discovered my treason.

“You came back,” Jisung finally said. “We weren’t expecting you to accept our invitation.”

“I was being polite,” I said, rubbing my hands along the seam line of my jeans.

“Yes, but we’re all here,” Changbin said. “We can be together.”

I shivered at his words. “We love you, Y/N,” Chan said. “The eight of us would like nothing more than to keep you with us forever.

“To turn me,” I confirmed, and he nodded his head.

“We’ll make it special,” Jisung said, patting his lap and I reluctantly joined him.

“It doesn’t have to be tonight,” Changbin confirmed, swiping his tongue across his sharp teeth. “But we are hungry.”

“And you’re such a sweet girl,” Jisung added, holding me on his lap as his teeth brushed across my carotid artery.

I held my breath because he was close to biting, but then...

“Chan! The police are outside and have a warrant to investigate the property!”

Jeongin’s face was a mess of tears which, at one time, might’ve forced me to reconsider everything that I had done, but not anymore. “What?” Chan growled, before glaring at me. “You stay here,” Chan said, and Jisung snarled in frustration as he released me before following Changbin and Chan downstairs.

For a moment, I could only focus on breathing because I had narrowly escaped Jisung’s bite and now the Coven knew that they were about to receive an unanticipated raid from the police. I swallowed hard, falling down into the floor as a piercing scream shattered the previous silence that left me shaking like a leaf inside of Chan’s office. There were suddenly loud growls and vicious noises penetrating the closed door and I buried my head between my legs and tried to calm down my racing heart.

I could hear the familiar sounds of glass breaking, of inhuman screams and yells breaking the barrier of the office. The voices of the vampires I had once known yelling out insults and curses, the destructive noises of gunshots and human-like cries for help as teeth tore through skin. It was apparent that the Miroh Coven was not backing down from this fight, and I could only pray that my officer had been right in her assurances that they could handle the Coven.

It seemed like hours had passed before I finally removed my hands from my ears, realizing that the screaming from downstairs had suddenly stopped. I waited for several moments, hearing nothing but my heartbeat in my ears and the gentle sounds of the river outside. Eventually, I managed to stand on unsteady legs, holding myself up against the wall as I started to make my way downstairs.

The smells that assaulted my senses should’ve told me everything, but I still released a piercing scream when I collapsed at the bottom of the staircase.

It was a terrifying sight, nothing but blood and crooked bodies spread throughout the room. I recognized most of the Coven, bile rising in my throat when I made contact with Changbin’s lifeless eyes. I carefully took a step back because I knew that this wasn’t supposed to happen, but an unexpected pressure around my ankle tore another scream from my throat and I fell down onto the floor.

“Y/N,” Chan croaked and I shivered when he moved over me, blood seeping through his shirt, but his eyes were still perfectly focused. “I have nothing now, Y/N,” Chan gasped, gripping tightly to my chin and forcing me to look into the empty eyes of Han Jisung.

He pulled me closer, exposing his sharpened teeth and I could do nothing to stop him. This was it, I thought to myself, the moment I had been running from since that tragic night eight months ago. Because Chan was unrelenting, drinking with long, painful bites that sent a searing pain down my spine as my body fought against the significant blood loss. Everything was cold and I wondered if death always felt this unpleasant.

However, the sudden reverberation of a loud snarl forced me to reconsider the darkening spots in my vision, searching behind me when I realized the brutal aspect of Chan’s bite had suddenly subsided. I felt my mouth drop open in horror, but the feeling quickly disappeared when I realized Officer Smith had speared Chan straight through the heart with a silver stake. The impact was immediate and Chan’s body dropped to the floor unceremoniously, leaving me with only a pair of red eyes gazing unblinkingly from the beyond. Meanwhile, Officer Smith offered me a kind smile that seemed out of place considering the blood staining the front of her uniform. “You deserve a better life, Y/N,” she whispered before her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she collapsed next to Chan.

It took me a moment to regain my bearings, looking around at the surrounding carnage. There was blood everywhere, bodies lying in deep puddles and contorted awkwardly from their injuries. It was a startling realization because they were all gone, both vampires and humans. There was nothing left from their vicious fight.

I was also incredibly tired and I closed my eyes despite my situation. Everything felt heavy, and I just wanted to forget the entire night before I had to comprehend the unfortunate tragedy of the Miroh Coven. I thought I deserved it considering the heavy loss weighing over my heart.

After a while, I became aware of a piercing light burning from somewhere in the distance. I gradually opened my eyes because the morning had arrived and, despite the death and destruction around me, I wanted desperately to find a better future in that beautiful light...

Epilogue- 2 Years Later

Vampires had rapidly gone into hiding, especially following the inquiry into the Miroh Massacre, as the newspapers delicately framed the tragedy. Apparently, society decided that they would no longer embrace their culture, finding more evidence of various Covens abusing the donor law which was eventually retracted in court. Subsequently, the vampires were forced to remain out of the public eye lest they face a severe punishment from the newly minted Hunters who spent their lives training to kill rogue vampires.

As for myself, I had finally taken back full ownership of my life, accepting a full-time research position that eventually led me to my future husband. After our marriage, we moved into an idyllic home in the suburbs and I gave birth to my son who proved to be everything that I needed in this world. Everything was starting to work out for me, and I was finally reassured that the past was truly forgotten because the ones who had haunted it were now gone forever.

“Mommy!” my son called, and I found him in the doorway to his bedroom looking up at me with tired brown eyes. “I can’t sleep.”

“Why is that?” I asked while gently encouraging him to lay back down on his bed.

“A kid in my class,” he said. “He told us about the vampires.”

“Yeah? Well, how would he know anything? He’s probably never even seen a vampire. Not many people have.”

“What about you?”

I shivered at the question. “It doesn’t matter, sweetheart. Vampires aren’t a problem anymore and there are people now who can protect us.”

“Really?” he asked, and his eyes were incredibly innocent of the true horrors of this world.

“They won’t ever hurt you,” I promised my son before flipping his light switch. I closed the door gently, praying that he might sleep through the entire night in his own bed, before I walked into the kitchen for something to drink. I smirked as I popped the cork on a new bottle of wine that my husband had bought for the two of us to share. It seemed unnecessarily mischievous to drink with my son in the other room, but I still liked to indulge every now and then, especially after remaining sober for nine months during my pregnancy.

I sighed as I drained the first glass, feeling the numbing effects spread through my body like an aphrodisiac. It had been a stressful day because of some unnecessary paperwork at the research institute where I worked, but I knew that everyday couldn’t be perfect. After all, I was absolutely grateful for everything in my life, even if it caused me the occasional headache.

I started washing my wine glass, lost in thought until a strange noise outside forced me to pause in my cleaning. It sounded close to the garage attached to our house, and I figured it might be raccoons again because they were becoming a problem. I glanced out the window, shrugging when I didn’t notice anything suspicious. However, if I had only taken an extra moment to study the outline of my husband’s garden, then I might’ve noticed the unusual pair of crimson-red eyes watching me from outside.

The End.

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