The city hadn't been this chaotic in a year. It was surprise this small gang had done something on such a large scale.
Outside of Yokohama it was brilliant summer night. Here, though a storm shook the city. It was not only the storm that Chuuya had to walk against. Cars were scattered along the street as if the power had just suddenly cut.
Well, that's what had happened.
Everything electric - battery or not was dead and Chuuya was forced to walk the dark, windy streets with a candle-lit lantern. He used the rain to keep him awake. 32 --- no, it was longer now --- more than 34 hours without sleep made things difficult for the best of men. And Chuuya was the best.
He would look pathetic when he finally got to Dazai's Agency Dorm like a drowned dog. Chuuya could already hear the snickering.
And Dazai wasn't needed here. Chuuya had been just about to take care of the issue and the city would be safe. Only, a messenger had come baring Mori Ougai's message.
The city came first, it always did, so why they needed Dazai to take care of it when they didn't need him was beyond him.
But Chuuya as always would comply. It was an order. Orders were everything.
And if he couldn't follow orders what was he?
The storm surged anew. And Chuuya's clothing stuck to him. He was cold and it wasn't at all soothing. He wanted to go home.
A few more miles and get reach Dazai's dorm - or gave to go looking for him. And then once he found him he'll---
A robber, someone who didn't know better and was fumbling in the dark stood in front of him with a gun pointed at him. He didn't notice Chuuya's aura of "Don't touch me" so he was probably desperate. Probably one of the ones causing chaos and looting and stealing from those office workers trying to get hone or stupid enough to try and continue to get to their nightshift.
Ugh.
Nothing was ever simple.
Next Part --->
My masterlist of tumblr fanfic is here | AO3 version is here
Arthur had imagined sharing his bath with Merlin an infinite amount of times. They would be surrounded by clouds of bubbles from nervously using too much soap. Arthur would wash Merlin's hair for a change, watching the water cascade down over Merlin's closed eyelids, pooling briefly on his upper lip before tracing down his thin, sinuous neck and over his collarbones. The two of them warm and wet, their bodies gliding against each other; a tantalising invitation. They would kiss, and touch, and make love to each other, slow but somehow reckless, as the water splashed and cooled. That was what Arthur had imagined.
This... this was something quite different. On the opposite side of the bath Merlin was covered in bubbles. They pooled around him, seemingly attracted by an unknown force. His face alight with pure joy, Merlin drew the bubbles up into towers, and clouds, surrounding himself with fanciful creations that were somehow not diminishing in the air. Upon his head he wore a crown of bubbles, his chest and arms draped with white. And there Arthur sat, ignored, waist deep in clear water, arms and legs crossed, petulant and waiting for Merlin to pay him some attention.
No, this was not at all what Arthur had had in mind.
I don't even know where the inspiration for these came from but I design the weirdest things at midnight when I'm bored.. Yes these all are my own pictures and no you can't copy them and try to pass them off as your own. I'm watching.
After an accident that kills most of her family, Emma has found herself living in a mansion with a large family and a rumored villain, Auden Mendeville. If that wasn’t hard enough for the eight year old, try having malfunctioning supernatural abilities and a voice that no one else can hear.
-A/N-
There’s some pretty heavy sh*t ahead, strong language, and lots of bloody violence. Skip this chapter if that’s a no-go for you!
“CAN’T YOU DO A SINGLE FUCKING THING RIGHT, YOU PIECE OF SHIT?” The tall man yelled as the now empty whisky bottle shattered at the girl’s bare feet. His knuckles were white with anger as he slowly stood from his place at the table. The young girl stood in the small kitchen of the tall house. A plate of spilled pasta in her tiny, trembling hands.
“I-I-I’m s-sorry Dad!” she quickly exclaimed. As she moved to set the plate down and clean up the splotch of red sauce that dripped on the floor, a giant hand swooped down and grabbed her by the collar of her old, ripped dress. She regretfully dropped the rest of the plate.
“What did you just call me?” his voice was deep and slow, making every word sharp and precise. Steely blue eyes blazed into glassy gray. The man’s face was mere inches from the child's. The alcohol that seeped out of his curled lips was suffocating.
“Father!” she blurted, blonde hair falling to cover her wide eyes.
“That’s better.” the man said, lowering the child. Her small bare-feet barely touched the floor before the world took a sharp turn backwards. “Now don’t forget it, Emma.”
Emma fought the tears that were forming in the corners of her blueish gray eyes. She laid there in the kitchen, staring at dim ceiling lights. The mint green walls seemed like the only thing that could comfort her. She could feel the warmth of her blood as it seeped out of the slits in her back. The glass dug deeper into her flesh every time she breathed.
Emma’s father had gone back to watching TV. She was glad he liked to listen to everything so loud. It hid her sobs as she shuffled out of the kitchen. She had just made it to the stairway when she heard his calm voice.
“Wait,” he said. Emma stiffened. Her mind races. What was he going to do? Was it going to be another beating? What was he thinking? Was she too loud going up the stairs? It didn’t really matter, it was going to be the same ending, anyways.
Emma wiped the tears from her face and quickly made her way to the brown recliner where her father sat. She took her place to the side of him. “Yes, Father?” her small voice was barely heard over the noise from the broken TV.
“Come here, Emma.” he lowered the volume of the TV and patted his lap. Emma hesitantly stepped closer. Gentle hands eased her onto her stomach. She could feel the glass shift under her skin. The man sighed deeply and began pulling the glass from child’s back.
The two sat in silence, save from the occasional sob. Emma’s father grabbed a small, grey box from the side table. Inside was a roll of thread and a few sewing needles. Slowly, he began to stitch her up. It was messy and painful, but the man wouldn’t let her die. He need the child support money.
“Alright,“ He picked the child up again, placing her on the dirty floor. “See? All better!” The man helped the child back into her dress. “Now go clean up.” a large, brown bottle was placed into the child's hands. Hydrogen Peroxide.
“Y-yes… father.” Emma stumbled away. Arms shaking, she poured the clear contents of the heavy bottle on her back and arm, moving to dump it on the blood stained tile floor. She winced as it seeped into her fresh stitches. She could hear it fizz as it dissolved the blood. After wiping the blood from her back and the floor, she moved to place the dirty towel with the others.
Emma’s father stepped between the child and the mound of rags on the couch. Emma ignored all of the alarms that were screaming in her head for her to run. He wrapped gently arms around her and pulled her close. She felt the prick of a needle in her neck, and the cold liquid rushing inside of her. “I’m only doing this for you.” he said in her ear. “don’ t worry, I’m going to cure you.”
Emma phased through the tall man’s arms, flinching at the pull of the needle. She held tight to the spot that she was injected, only taking a second to glance at the glowing blue-ish green substance that stained her hand. Red flooded her vision and she knew her eyes were glowing.
The banshee inside of her fought hard to take control. To transform her into the monster that put made daddy so mad. Her matted dirty-blonde hair began to bleed into a deep, raven black. The child fought hard to stay awake. Her vision was swimming and the room kept tilting. Finally, it took its sharp turn and she made contact with the hard floor below. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t feel. Al she wanted right now was sleep.
The small child hovered a few inches above the floor. She was fast asleep from the quantum-destabilizer that he just injected her with. It was diluted with her blood, so it shouldn’t kill her. He quietly lifted the child off the floor and carried her to her room. He strapped her to the ghost-proof restraints on her small bed and placed the heavy blanket on top.
“Don’t worry, my little princess, i’ll get that demon out of you.” He kissed her head and walked out the door.
Evelyn Jemima Johnson was born October 31st 1890, the only child of Benjamin and Marie Johnson. Evelyn was never far from her loving parents and never had want for anything.
Being an only child her parents kept her close by and with the threat of school looming her mother ultimately decided to have her home schooled by bringing in a tutor. The only downside to this was that she had very little interaction with other children other than with those who were brought along by their mothers.
Her father was a banker and away most of the day and her mother a housewife who loved nothing more than having her friends over for afternoon tea to discuss the local gossip. Jasmine took every chance she could to be a part of it, very often found hovering in doorways and watching from the shadows. Jasmine loved hearing the laughter and buzz of low voices as they discussed the good, the bad and the secrets of the lives in the city. She quickly learned that knowledge was everything, that the more you knew the more advantage and standing you had within the dynamic and her mother was a pro.
Evelyn at a young age found that the other girls and boys that attended with their mothers didn’t like her much. Those children went to school together and Evelyn was the odd one out. Evelyn did everything she could to fit in. She did everything they said thinking it would make them like her, instead all it did was give them more reason to laugh.
All apart from one. Henry Malone. He was the son of her mothers closest and oldest friend and the only one who was kind to her. Friendship quickly blossomed between them.
Unfortunately In 1905 events took a turn for the worst when her parents were killed in a freak motor car incident. One night while walking home from a charity gala her parents were caught unawares of an out of control motor car.
Life changed very quickly for Evelyn, according to her parents will she was to be put under the guardianship of the Malone’s, her parents closest friends.
Evelyn was soon uprooted from her home and with her possessions moved into the Malone family home not far away. Everything her parents owned including the house was sold and the money put aside in her name for when she would eventually need it.
The Malone’s were good people and did everything they could do make her happy and comfortable, it helped that Henry was there most evenings and weekends when he wasn’t at university studying. He helped take her mind off everything and brought her happiness she thought she would never feel again.
Years of blossoming friendship between the two eventually lead to love and at seventeen she was engaged to Henry and in a quick whirlwind engagement just after her eighteenth birthday in 1908 they were married.
The newlywed pair moved out of his family home and brought themselves a home of their own and began their life together. Henry was an architect and was away long days at work and so Evelyn settled into the life of a housewife and thrived in running her own household. Like her mother before her she made friends and began to have frequent afternoon gatherings to pass the time.
They soon both came to realize that they were missing something in their life, children. Both coming from small families they dreamed of having many children of their own. Alas after many years of trying and failing they believed it wouldn’t be so for them.
Until Evelyn surprisingly to them both fell pregnant and after a successful pregnancy she gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, Thomas Benjamin Malone in January 1917.
For a few months life was good although nights were sleepless and days were busy with caring for Thomas, Evelyn wouldn’t change it for the world. Henry was a great father and when home helped in any way he could. They were finally getting the life they dreamed of.
The perfect bubble shattered not to soon after the birth of their son. News of the ever worsening war was all over the radio, rumors of the army sending troupes to Europe spread and panic came to many families all over the country.
Fears were to come true when on the 1st of June Henry was drafted and was sent to Europe to the front line within the week. Leaving Evelyn and young Thomas behind.
Evelyn had to continue on with life as normal, she heard from Henry every month or so by letter, it gave her a little peace but she could tell with each passing communication that he was struggling more and more. Not just with the war but at missing his wife and his son who was growing so quickly.
Just after the first birthday of her son in the January of 1918 Evelyn was given the heartbreaking news, delivered to her in the early morning by a uniformed officer at the door. Henry had been killed in action. Her world had been shattered. Her husband would never return. She would never see his face again. Her son would never know his father.
Unable to truly grieve, life had to go on. With support from her in-laws she continued to raise her son, taking each day as it came.
In the very same year Spanish Influenza hit the US and began to spread like wildfire. And tragedy struck the life of Evelyn Malone once again when her son contracted the flu himself and within days succumbed to his ailment. To young to fight it off.
Evelyn was alone in the world, no parents, no husband and no child. It was a dark dark time for her. Subsequently she spent her days alone drinking herself into a stupor, following the same dull routine. Somehow always finding herself at the graves of her loved ones.
Which is where she met James Ashcroft. Who offered her a life free of pain, free of suffering. A life were she would no longer be alone.
Accepting his offer she left behind her human life and began her life her life as a vampire.
AFTER LIFE
After packing up her home and boarding up her old life Evelyn spent the next few decades with her humanity left behind in those boxes. When James had told her she could live a life free of the pain of her human years, he had forgotten to mention that instead of pain all she would feel was an unquenchable bloodlust. A bloodlust so intense that everything else just blurred away into nothing.
In the following years Evelyn, foolishly high with bloodlust, mercilessly killed and tortured for James, doing his dirty work, protecting him from anyone who even thought him harm. Evelyn would have done anything for him, after all he gave her this life.
James Ashcroft was a cruel, calculating and bewitching vampire. A nomad who had a large coven. It had been a mere coincidence that they had stumbled into town as everything was taking a turn in her own life. Evelyn hadn’t even noticed the articles all over the papers and the daily broadcast over the radio all about brutal attacks and missing persons reports. If she had she may not have been so inviting to a strange gentleman offering her a new life.
Her new life took her all over the country, she revelled in the nomadic life. The roaring 20’s was a blur. Party after party in town after town all the while leaving bodies in their wake.
It was no lie that most of James’ coven had taken a disliking to Evelyn from the start as she very soon became his favourite, never far from his side.
James made it very clear he had taken a shine to her beauty and often told her it was the reason he had chosen her, according to him he had watched her for many weeks in her downward spiral and noted that he hated to see such a beautiful face so sorrowful. Unfortunately Evelyn took it as a compliment instead of seeing it as his vain need for a beautiful woman at his side.
Evelyn was indebted to James, he had taken her small pitiful life full of bad memories where everything good was taken away from her and gave her a new life. A life where she had everything she wanted and nothing and no one could take anything away from her again.
The pair soon began and on and off again affair that couldn’t really be labelled as a ‘relationship’. Their chemistry was electric, everything was so new and exciting and only good for one thing. James used Evelyn for what he needed, she was easy on the eyes and a good distraction by his side. Some would call her a femme fatale, a siren. Loyal to a fault, she questioned no command and nothing was to much to ask.
Evelyn wielded a gift of persuasion, limited to touch. She effects most creatures, humans being the most susceptible and those of a human…variety. Witches, werewolves and vampires also. Although vampires of an older age seem to have more of an immunity against her power. Once described to her by one of her somewhat older fellow coven as a sensation of pins and needles and another said it was like having a fly buzzing around their head, both irritating and easy to shrug off but hard to ignore completely and after some time one and then both had lost themselves to her. Apparently it was different for everyone, but she had very rarely found anyone old enough to withstand her persuasive nature. Evelyn couldn’t try on James who was the oldest she had met at 502 because unfortunately he was a blocker. Like James not everyone was vulnerable to her gifts, it was rare but there were some who could resist her will, human, witch or werewolf.
Being a blocker made James very powerful, there were many vampires out there with wonderful gifts that could make even the biggest of nomad groups an easy target. Though with James being able to block attacks against his coven they were almost unstoppable. With Evelyn by his side he was even more powerful, using her gifts became a daily norm for him. It was easy to get whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.
They soon became a power couple and Evelyn rose to the occasion, so long as James was happy she was happy. As long as he got what he wanted he was docile. So long a she was obedient he took care of her. What she didn’t realize was that she was more of his puppet than partner.
If someone stepped out of line within the ranks of the coven James would be judge, jury and Evelyn was his executioner. The things she did to so many would stay with her forever. For James did not like his enemies or his followers punishments to be quick. He was a man with a reputation to be feared for a reason.
At the time Evelyn had taken great pleasure in causing pain, though she didn’t have such a feeling herself anymore, it gave her pleasure to know she could inflict something as bad upon someone else as the universe had set upon her human life.
This continued for some years in her time with James. Soon what they had between them turned toxic. All Evelyn wanted was his attention, his approval. Which in the beginning he had given to her but as time passed and the more money and power he accrued the less he wanted her for anything but her gift. Which angered her especially when he began taking other lovers. Other women from within the coven, newer vampires, younger, fresher.
James and Evelyn soon became volatile with each other, arguing and fighting constantly over his use of her and his blatant escapades with other women. At worst spilling blood at times. Yet the jealousy and violence in Evelyn peaked James's interest again, and so we enter the vicious cycle.
In 1929 is when things took a turn. Evelyn had been given orders by James that a certain vampire had owed him a lot of money and he was fed up of waiting. Pretty much code for her to rough him up some and make sure he knew to get James his money. That vampires name was Garrett.
Garrett was an easy enough man to find, look for the darkest and dingy looking bar and he would probably be there trying to tell stories of his epic battles at any number of wars. More than likely looking for an easy meal among the drunken low lives. All she had to do was wait for him to leave. When he did that’s when she could do what she did best.
Following him was easy and when they were far enough away from civilians view she emerged from the shadows. There was recognition in his eyes when he had seen he and maybe a little fear.
