#☽ . . . coven.

[xotherwcrldsx]

Main Verse!Amy: struggles her whole life with her visions not being believed, having debilitating psychosis as a result of the visions that is somewhat managed in her teens with medication; her father dies when she's 7 and her mother dies when she's 18; then years later is killed accidentally while trying to re-bond with her dad who saves her by condemning her to the life of a doll, thus leading to her losing what little humanity and sanity she had left

Cursed Princess Verse!Amy: struggles with her visions being seen as a 'curse' by others in the kingdom, earning her the title of 'the Cursed'; sees a vision that forsees her family being killed, but with little to no exact details to show who or what is to blame or what leads to it happening, so she goes off on her own to try and find answers, only to get tangled up in a political plot by her maternal grandfather to try and overthrow her father's kingdom

Soul Coven!Amy: literally living her best life with her entire family in her dream home and learning how to hone in her psychic abilities as well as learning to be a powerful witch

[fwnlang]

[lunaetics]

roll the stone away | pack

the timing worked out: dean, sam, jo, and lux⎯who'd tagged along for your protection, whatever that meant⎯arrived at ajani's home and stepped out of the car, just as the group of salem refugees arrived.

dean didn't know much about the group. frankly, the only people he really knew anything about were sam and jo. but lo had informed them all that her friends, alphas like her, would be meeting them soon, seeking asylum and help that only eshe could provide right now. dean hadn't pried for details⎯they'd all had such a long day already and all he wanted was for it to come to an end⎯but watching the group climb out of their mini-bus, he thought he understood.

the exhaustion of the group was palpable. shadows hung over their faces and there was a stiffness to the way they move. none of them looked bruised or particularly ruffled, like there'd been a battle, just⎯⎯exhausted. as if they'd been through just as much as everyone else here, if not significantly more. and there was something about the way they hesitated to step too far away from each other, thoughtlessly shuffling into a clustered formation as they stepped out of their vehicle, that was familiar to dean.

he'd never done it with a group quite that large, but⎯⎯with sam, yeah. he recognized what it looked like to have been dragged to the pits of hell with someone and feel like the world would end if he ever parted from that person again.

peculiar enough, the last person out of the bus was asleep; she was pulled out of the car gently, cradled in someone's arms. her head lulled against their shoulder, and dean momentarily thought that it was kind of them to allow her to sleep.

then he saw⎯⎯the way their eyes shuttered away from her, as if she were a painful sight. the careful way she was held. the pallor of her skin. the way she wasn't even breathing.

oh.

finally, dean looked away.

"oh, good timing," lux said, running her eyes over the group. unlike the people she'd driven with, she wasn't human; she could pick up all of the distinct scents in the group, as well as the lack of a heartbeat in one of them. her eyes flicked down to the sleeping witch, then back up to the others. "come on, i'll bring you inside. don't worry," she added, seeing the way one witch's eyes darted frantically around, "you're safe here. whoever you're running from, they can't get you in this city⎯⎯certainly not here."

mae drew her bottom lip between her teeth and tried to believe that. rose and the twins had said the same thing. mae wanted to believe it. but it was hard to believe anything when her entire belief system had been upended just twenty-four hours ago. still, she fashioned a smile for the blonde and nodded. "right. yeah, of course."

lux tried to return her smile. she wasn't the best welcoming committee; she was not soft and endearing like julia. but ajani would want her to be kind, and she owed him everything. so she smiled, then turned to lead everyone into ajani's fortress of a home. some of the witches looked around in awe as they ventured through the house to find the others, and lux said nothing about it. spirits knew she'd done the same thing many times over the years.

soon enough, they reached the room where everyone was gathered. uche was seated between her sisters, hand wrapped around eshe's while her head rested against ife's chest. lux couldn't blame them for the way they banded together. near death experiences were scary for anyone; she couldn't imagine what that did to someone who'd been invincible since near the beginning of time.

upon entering the room, ethan couldn't even find it in himself to recognize all of the threats gathered around them. his eyes immediately found the familiar sight of home. "lo," he exhaled, breaking away from the witches to cross the room over to her. he wrapped his arms around her and felt something settle in his chest at finally being with her again. separating had been the right thing; that didn't mean he didn't miss her terribly. "hey. you okay?" he pulled back from the hug to look her in the eyes. "have you been alright?"

bellamy, on the other hand, did not look at lo first. instead, her eyes landed on julia. she was an odd sight, considering bellamy was certain deucalion had killed her some years ago. then again, she seemed to have a knack for beating death. there were scars wrapped around her throat, jagged claws marks that undoubtedly came from deucalion's attack, but that seemed to be the extent of her trauma. she didn't look at the alphas with any sort of recognition, and it made bellamy question just what price she'd paid for her survival.

"thank you for having us," harry said, while the alphas reunited, his voice quieter than usual. everything felt... odd. in a new city, with a bunch of new people, and piper still dead. if the last thing wasn't true, then piper would be speaking right now; she'd know how to be a good ambassador for their coven, how to show that they come with earnest intentions. but she was⎯asleep, still, so someone had to say something. "we're sorry for the sudden intrusion."

[thedemonlady]

Prestige Coven Akali by chronic

[xotherwcrldsx]

@elliehallers

Witchy summer

[gothictyped]

nevermore gwen ... psychic or witch besties what do we think

[jubshead]

𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

Paring: Agatha Harkness x Lilia Calderu

Summary: The fortune-telling witch rolls and remains with her eyes closed, she has always been a light sleeper, the constant dreams weren’t helpful. She does sit up when the noise is identified as a sob.

Warnings: Mommy issues, begging, praise kink, crying during sex, thigh riding, fingering, mommy kink, very brief mention of dacryphilia

Date: Dec 07, 2024

Comments are always welcome and appreciated!!

Masterlist | Taglist

Tag list: @diorrxckstar @ofgoldandbraid @greencurlyhair @kenzie-floops @lalchimiedecupid @confuseuniverse @casteel08 @alittlewitchyone @lady-darkswan3 @gilmoresliarss @maevaofendora @thoroughly--confused @cowboykya @aggieharkness @greek-freak101 @brooklynights @delusionalforolderwomen @sayresse17 @mrsines

─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ───────

The moon had returned to its usual gray color, its light slipping through the windows and partially illuminating the basement like room. The group sleeps soundly, their energies drained from the Road’s endless walk.

The trial hadn’t ended with Evanora’s banishment. There was still some unknown business to attend to that prevented the escape door from opening. The coven wasn’t complaining, however, the cushions made for a great bed after laying in the forest ground for days, and there wasn’t much they could walk with Alice’s weakened state. 

The wood creaks in the night and the silence is disturbed by a distant sound. The fortune-telling witch rolls and remains with her eyes closed, she has always been a light sleeper, the constant dreams weren’t helpful. She does sit up when the noise is identified as a sob and looks around, worried about Teen. 

Letting out a sigh of relief when she spots the boy, she gets up. Curiosity gets the better of her and she follows the sound up the stairs of the fort, stopping dead in her tracks by the image she comes upon. 

Agatha’s head is buried in her knees, she sits on the wooden floor and her body shakes with the hidden hiccups. 

➙ continue

[xotherwcrldsx]

@elliehallers

I'm thinking about how my girl can be unhinged and obsessive, specifically with Tom in mind. He's her first real head-over-heels affection and love that she ever found. Her intuition in her body, mind and soul knew that he was the one when they first met.

So thinking of Amy being more adept and trained with her psychic powers, along with being a witch, in the Soul Coven verse, she would bump into this vampire and immediately know who he is and that he's meant for her. But he at first is aloof and keeps to himself because of him being a recently turned vampire. So cue Amy, truly her mother's daughter, going into her book of spells or doing something along those lines to have this vampire that she knows is the one to dream of her and think of her. She could easily have done a love potion (or something along those lines), but she didn't want to 'cheat', per se, or make it too easy. She wanted it to still be somewhat organic, or at least give Tom the illusion that it was organic.

Thus, he starts dreaming of her, thinking of her often, far too often, to the point that he can't avoid her any longer. It's all as planned, it was meant to be, but Amy gave it—him, and ultimately them—just a little push.

[xotherwcrldsx]

@elliehallers Amy in Soum Coven i fear 😭 she longs for the vamps

if you see me bleeding out with a vampire on top of me MIND YOUR BUSINESS!!!!! i’m exactly where i want to be

[yeonzzzn]

✨capturing magic: park sunghoon

a vampires bleeding series: four / seven

pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 5.3k

synopsis: your witchy presence causes an uproar with sunghoon, him not enjoying the idea of you being anywhere near him. as you struggle to regain your strength and magic, the banter between you and sunghoon continue grow along with the pull of fate.

genre: strangers/enemies to lovers, vampire!sunghoon, photographer!sunghoon, witch!reader, angst, some fluff.

warnings: mentions of blood and death, swearing, y/n has long black hair and facial piercings, stubbornly cute sunghoon ♡

☾ jungwon(1) | jay(2) | jake(3) | sunghoon(4) | sunoo(5) | niki(6) | heeseung(7) ☽

“YOU BROUGHT BACK A WITCH?!” Sunghoon snapped, his jaw clenching tightly. 

“Yes!!” the dhampir snapped back, “We couldn’t leave her there to die!!” 

Sunghoon was filled with anger, blood boiling. 

“Let's all calm down…” Heeseung spoke up, placing a hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder.

Sunghoon slapped his hand away, “Hyung, that dhampir bringing this witch here will put us all in danger!!” 

“This witch is one of my best friends!” She yelled, “I wasn’t going to leave her, end of story!” 

Sunghoon scoffed, “Yeah, and if we all die it’ll be the damn dhampir’s fault.”

“Hey!” Jake yelled, getting in his best friend's face, “That damn dhampir is my mate, watch your words. She’s in our pack now.” 

The room fell silent. Sunghoon figured he would have connected with the dhampir, the tension between the two was too obvious. 

“And for the record,” Jake said, taking a step back away from Sunghoon, “I’m the one who said to bring the witch here. We need information once she wakes up.” 

Sunghoon looks away from his friend, looking at the witch lying unconscious on the couch. 

He knew Jake was right. In order to stop Dorian, they needed any information possible. 

Sunghoon releases a breath, “Fine, do what you want with the witch.” 

And with that, Sunghoon stormed off. 

—

“Easy does it,” Heeseung grabbed your hands, helping you sit up.

It’s been exactly a week since Dorian burned down your village and killed your coven. You were the only surviving member. 

Your heart ached for those you’ve lost, but you knew their souls were somewhere free from the cruelness of this world. 

Most of your burns have healed from your recovery spell, but you still ached with each movement, making it harder for you to move. On top of that, your right leg was broken. And no recovery spell could make that heal any faster. 

The vampires have shown you kindness for the most part. One in particular doesn’t care for you much. 

Once you were completely sat up, you thanked Heeseung. 

Jay knelt down beside you, looking at the bandages that covered your arms, slowly lifting them up to look at your skin. 

“We can probably remove the bandages,” He said, lifting more of the bandage up to get a better look at your skin, “The only thing is, there’s a lot of scarring.”

You nodded, “Recovery spells can only go so far.” 

Jay removed the bandages, relieving the scars. You didn’t realize how bad they actually were until you looked directly at them. 

Flashbacks to the fire came back, shaking you to the core. You dropped your head into your hands, begging for the thoughts to go away. 

“Y/N,” your best friend drops beside you, her hands set gently on your shoulders, “what’s wrong?” 

Her voice alone was enough to snap you out of it, you quickly looked up at her, giving a nod, “I am fine, the scars just…” 

She sighs, “It brought back the memories?” 

You nodded again.

A scoff happened from across the room. You immediately glared in its direction. 

Sunghoon leaned against the wall, arms crossed against his chest, his black hair falling against his eyes. 

“Got something to say, bloodsucker?” you hissed.

Sunghoon raised a brow, “You gonna put a hex on me or something, witch?” 

You gripped the blanket that covered your legs, “I just might!” 

He chuckled, pushing himself off the wall. He smiled just enough to show his sharpened fangs and cracked his knuckles. 

“Alright, that’s enough!” Jungwon snapped, looking between the two of you, “This situation isn’t ideal, but we all have one goal in common, so please for the love of everything put your differences to the side and shut the fuck up.” 

Sunghoon sighed, retracting his fangs. 

“Good boy, listen to your leader.” you gave him a wink. 

“Y/N,” Jungwon warned. 

You sighed and relaxed your body. You were powerless in your current situation. 

A pack of vampires and two humans were your only source of protection at the current moment. Your coven was destroyed. This is all you have right now. 

Sunghoon scoffed, then stormed out the door into the night. 

“Do you think you can make it up the stairs to bathe and sleep in a bed finally?” your dhampir friend asks, giving you a soft smile. 

You removed the blanket, and more burn scars trailed down your left leg, while the other was covered in a cast from your knee down. 

You pulled your shorts down, trying to hide the scars. 

“Hey,” Jay’s mate kneels beside your friend, her soft hands taking yours, “These scars are proof that you survived, don’t try to hide them.”

You wanted to protest, to shout that she doesn’t understand what it meant to survive after what you went through. 

But then you noticed the scars on her neck. It didn’t take long for you to recognize that those scars were caused by Dorian. That __ survived almost being killed by him. 

You forced a smile, “These scars don’t just show that I survived, they show what I also lost.” 

“Then you’ll carry them with you forever,” she gives you a soft smile, “It’ll be a reminder of what Dorian has done, and what will be done to get back at him.” 

She was right. You gave her a smile back with a nod. 

Jay pulled his mate up and to his chest, wrapping her in his arms, “__ always knows what to say.” 

Their bond pulled at each of them. Jungwon pulls __ to him and Jake pulls your friend to himself. Sunoo, Niki, and Heeseung had smiles watching their pack. 

You too had a smile. You could feel the bond they shared. Their vibes and how their energies matched. 

You looked at your friend and Jake. The way he held her so tightly and her head in the crease of his neck. 

Your heart danced for them. You knew how much losing her first mate did a number on her. But you truly believe Jake was meant to be hers completely. She just had to go through some bullshit shit first. 

Eventually, you had enough of the love birds, positioning yourself to stand up. 

Your recovery spell healed your broken leg enough that you were able to stand up straight and still walk…but just barely. 

Your half-blooded friend noticed your struggles, releasing herself from Jake to help you up the stairs and into the bathroom. 

The reflection you saw in the mirror haunted you, a burn scar covering your left eye and up the side of your forehead. The recovery magic healed it enough that it was a light pink. 

A sigh escaped your lips, as you turned and faced away from the mirror. 

You cleaned yourself up, washing away the couch bum life you had for the last week. 

You were so glad to finally be able to sleep in a bed. Archer was nice enough to run to the nearest supermarket to buy you extra clothes, bed sheets, and other witchy essentials to have here. 

Your new room was filled with plants and crystals and a few books that Jake was able to salvage from the fire. 

You tried to stay awake to read, but your eyes failed you. After not sleeping in a bed for over a week, it was way too comfortable. 

—

You stood in front of the mirror, pulling your long black hair behind you and into a braid. Your bangs pull out perfectly down the sides of your face. 

Your half-blooded friend brought you some jewelry to wear, which you were ecstatic about. 

Witches can’t go without jewelry, right?

You pull some rings onto your fingers, then dangle earrings into your ears. 

A perfectly black hooped nose ring suited your nose and a lace choker around your neck and a short silver bar on your eyebrow. 

You pulled a white cropped tank top over you and a black baggy pair of cargo pants and black boot, and black cast boot on your right leg to match. 

A beautiful light brown cardigan made the outfit even more perfect. 

You did a three-sixty in the mirror, finally feeling and looking like yourself. 

You stared at the scar on your eye. You traced your fingers over it, feeling the rough skin. 

Dropping your hand back at your side, you turn and walk away from the mirror. 

The kitchen was lively, and laughter from your new friends echoed up the stairs as you made your way down. 

Jay stood at the counter flipping pancakes and bacon, a bag of blood attached to his lips. 

The two humans stood behind Jay, begging him to hurry with breakfast and Jay tried his best to shoo them off. 

Jake sat with __ on the couch. She ate a bowl of cereal while Jake drank his own bag of blood. 

Sunoo, Jungwon, and Heeseung sat at the kitchen table with a map in front of them discussing the layout of the area. 

Niki also sat at the table, backpack in his lap, and sipping on a bag of blood as if it were a juice box. 

You giggled and walked over to the table, “You really are stuck in a seventeen-year-old body arentcha?” 

Niki rolled his eyes, “Unfortunately.” 

Heeseung checked his watch, “Off to school.” 

Niki groaned, throwing his head back against the wall, “This fucking sucks.” 

You softly smiled at the younger, “I’ll walk you out.” 

Niki stood up, throwing the backpack on. 

You went to the fridge, grabbing an apple and a bottle of water. The piles of blood bags filled the bottom shelf. 

Seeing the bags reminded you that one bloodsucker in particular was missing. 

“Where’s the idiot bloodsucker at?” you asked anyone who would give you an answer. 

Jake perked up, “That idiot bloodsucker has a name,” you shrugged your shoulders, and Jake sighed, “He’s outside doing his photography.” 

Your dhampir friend smiles at you, “Worried about him, Y/N?”

You narrowed your eyes, “He annoys me.” 

She smirked at you, “You look pretty.” 

You toss your braid over your shoulder, “Of course I do, part of being a witch is also being charming.” 

The vampires groan, which you expected. They might be being nice to you for the moment, but witches and vampires still don’t get along. 

You grabbed a blood bag along with your other items and closed the fridge. 

You patted Niki’s back, “Come on baby bro, let’s get you off to school.” 

—

Sunghoon sat up in a tree, camera in hand, and snapping photos of the open land. 

The morning sunrise hit the land perfectly. He changed a few filter and lens settings, finding the perfect combination. 

His mood changed once he heard the door to the house open, sensing Niki and you stepping out of the house. 

Sunghoon turned around, watching as you waved Niki off, him going into a full sprint and gone within seconds. 

You took a bite out of the apple in your hands, looking around until you made eye contact with him. 

Sunghoon glared before turning his attention back to his camera. 

“You lack a lot of manners bloodsucker, ya know that?” 

Sunghoon scoffed, looking down at you who was now underneath him. 

“Why do you care about my manners, hmm?” 

“Haven’t you heard? We have a common goal, gotta act like friends, don’t want Jungwon to snap our necks, right?” You loved teasing him. You loved how irritated you made him and how you knew exactly what to say to get under his skin. 

Deep down you really wanted to get along with all the vampires, Sunghoon was just the only one not budging. 

Sunghoon ignored you, his jaw clenched as he held the camera back up. 

You whistle at him, his eyebrow rising. 

Sunghoon was fixing to snap, “I know for a fact you didn’t just whistle at me like I am a dog.” 

“Look at me then.” You said. 

Sunghoon looked back at you, a warm smile on your face. 

You tossed the blood bag up to him, Sunghoon catching it. 

“You haven’t eaten yet, right?” 

All Sunghoon could do was stare at the bag, his tough exterior relaxing. 

“Thank you,” was all he could say. 

You smiled even brighter, taking another bite out of your apple. 

Sunghoon drank the blood as you finished off your apple and drank your water. 

“Can I see your work?” You asked, finally breaking the silence. 

Sunghoon glared at you again, “Why do you care?” 

You sigh, “Because believe it or not, we are kinda stuck with each other, soooo.” 

Sunghoon rolled his head, running a hand through his hair. 

He knew you were right. 

“You won’t put a hex on me if I come down, will ya hex girl?” 

You glared at him, “No you idiot!” 

Sunghoon smirked, “Sassy much, hex girl?” 

“Continue pushing my buttons and you’ll see, bloodsucker.” 

This small banter admittedly made Sunghoon happy. You were the first person to get under his skin and make it crawl, but returned every ounce of energy he gave out. 

Sunghoon flung himself down from the tree, waving you over. 

One by one, Sunghoon showed you all the photos he took this morning. 

“These are really beautiful, bloodsucker,” you said, patting his shoulder, “But it’s missing something.” 

Sunghoon once again glared at you, “Missing what, exactly?” 

You smile, pointing at yourself, “A model!” 

Sunghoon furrowed his brows at you, “I don’t need you in my photos hex girl, might put a curse on them.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Come on, just snap a few pictures.” 

Sunghoon wanted to protest, why should he take photos of his enemy? 

But with the way you looked right now, Sunghoon knew with the sunrise and open fields, you would be a perfect fit. 

He nodded, “Fine.” 

You smiled, skipping away from him. 

Sunghoon lifted his camera, snapping a few photos of you skipping. 

You stopped and quickly turned around, the biggest smile on your face. Sunghoon snapped that as a photo, his stomach doing flips. 

The way your lips curled as you smiled. How the sun brought out the color of your eyes. The way your hair fell and blew in the wind. 

Sunghoon stared at the photo. You were so beautiful. 

“Hey!” You snapped Sunghoon out of his trance, “Are you going to stare at the camera or tell me how to be a good model?” 

Sunghoon smiled, “Just…be you.” 

You thought about it, deciding to make a joke, “What if I do Wanda Maximoff poses? Like Scarlet Witch Style?”

Sunghoon blinked at you, “Can you actually do magic like that?” 

You glared at him, “No! I’m a witch, not a superhuman.”

Sunghoon glared back, “Well, I didn’t know what all you witches can do!” 

“Just think of us witches as hippies, just that we don’t smoke a shit ton of weed.” 

Sunghoon chuckled, his hand clenching his shirt from his laughter.

“What is so funny?” You tried to not laugh as well, but his laugh was contagious. 

“Just the way you explained witches,” Sunghoon took a deep breath, “I’ve only ever been in contact with witches who use darker magic, you’re the first who doesn’t.” 

You studied him and his smile, his natural fangs being present with his smile. 

You haven’t seen him smile at all since you met a week ago. 

You walked towards him, stopping directly in front of him. 

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes down at you, “What are you doing? Get away from me.” 

You sighed, “There’s that tough exterior.” 

You placed your hand on his cheek, he pulled away, but reached back for him, connecting your palm to his skin. 

Sunghoon’s heart was racing at your touch, his jaw locking together. 

You breathed in, “You have such a tough exterior, but are so caring and soft underneath it.” 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “Stop using your voodoo shit on me.” 

“Sunghoon.” 

It was the first time you actually called him by his name, and oh did it do numbers on him. 

He made eye contact with you, and immediately after, you backed away from him. 

Sunghoon knew why. There was a spark of electric energy that shot through the both of you, that small string slowly getting tied, but being still loose. 

He shook his head, not letting it tighten. 

“I’m going back to the house.” Sunghoon quickly turned and walked away, leaving you. 

You touched your chest, looking down at the ground. 

“What the fuck was that.” 

—

Sunghoon spent the rest of the day locked inside his room, flipping through the photos he had taken earlier that morning, stopping at the one of you. 

His heartstrings were being pulled. The moment of the string being attached to the both of you came back into his mind. 

“I can’t mate with a damn witch, it’s impossible,” he whispered to himself. 

But the more he looked at your photo, the more his heart called to you. 

He turned the camera off, set it on the bedside table, rolled over, and fell asleep. 

He woke up at the sound of footsteps walking down the hall. 

Sunghoon stretched, a yawn escaping his lips. 

He checked the time off his phone, rolling his eyes at the time. 

Sunghoon quickly got out of bed, sliding his sneakers on before walking out of his room, seeing the door to your bedroom was open. 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “What the hell is she doing?” 

He found you outside by the pond sitting on the ground. Glass bottles filled with herbs sat in front of you, and a small fire was lit to your right. 

“It’s three a.m.,” he yawned, “why the hell are you outside at three a.m.” 

You turned and smiled at him, “I’m doing witchy things.” 

Sunghoon scoffed, “I already figured that, hex girl. I’m asking what exactly you are doing.” 

You turned back to the herbs, slowly mixing them together and setting them into the fire. 

“Don’t you know the witching hour is three a.m.?” 

Sunghoon shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, “Yes, isn’t that when your powers are at their strongest? Just like us on a new moon.”

“Exactly,” you sang, “My powers are only stronger for an hour, plus the protection barrier I put around the house was fading due to my injuries from the fire. I need to revamp my recovery spell as well, so these scars go away.” 

Sunghoon’s heart pulled towards you even more, you were sacrificing so much to protect everyone, to protect him when he does nothing but be an ass towards you. 

You stood up, brushing the dirt off your sweatpants, “The barrier on the house has been fixed, so yay!” 

Sunghoon nodded.

“But I ran out of herbal recovery leaves, so I need more of that to remove all these burn marks.” 

You started to walk away, only for Sunghoon to grab your arm.

You raised a brow at him, noticing how serious his face looked at you, “What?”

Sunghoon walked closer to you, tracing his fingers over the massive pink scar on your face, “You’re beautiful as you are,” his fingers moved over every inch of the scar, before moving down your cheek, his palm cupping your face, “You’re so beautiful, scars and all.” 

Your heart raced. He thought you were beautiful? You thought he hated you. But you couldn’t help but feel that tug to him, and notice his energy was matching that tug. 

“What is this feeling?” You asked, “This energy that’s flowing between us? It wasn’t there before today.” 

Sunghoon reached for your hand with his free hand, his eyes meeting yours, “It’s the string of fate.” 

You looked at him confused, “String of fate?” 

“When vampires meet their mates, a string of fate ties them together,” Sunghoon took a deep breath in, “And I think we might have a string of fate tying around us.” 

“Is that another way of saying we are soulmates?” You made a grossed-out face at him, which earned you a glare. 

“Don’t look at me like that hex girl, you act like it’s a choice.” 

“Is it not?” 

Sunghoon shook his head, “Trust me if it was, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.” 

“Must be spine-chilling knowing your string of fate is probably being tied to a witch.” you teased him. 

Sunghoon half smiled, biting his lower lip, “You know for someone who was the head witch of your coven and village, you sure don’t know a lot about vampires.” 

You rolled your eyes, finally pushing his hand from your face, “I was only recently appointed as head witch, it’s not something I wanted.” 

Sunghoon squeezed your hand, “It’s like Jungwon being our leader, I don’t think he thought he was fit enough.” 

“Jungwon is doing fanatic, better than I was.” 

“I bet you were fine—“

“If I were fine,” you took a deep breath in, “Then Dorian wouldn’t have found a way to break the barrier over my village and wouldn’t have burnt down to ashes and killed my whole coven.” 

Sunghoon pulled you to him, embracing you, “I am so sorry they didn’t get to you in time. The moment Dorian would have been near Jake we would have known, we would have been there in seconds and…” 

“And what, bloodsucker?” 

“I could have saved you and your coven.” 

You looked up at him, “You hate me, hate witches, why do that?” 

Sunghoon took a deep breath, pushing your long hair behind your ear, “I would have gone to protect Jake, he’s my best friend after all, but I would have met you sooner, and could have prevented what happened.” 

You stepped away from him, tears filling your eyes and not wanting him to see it. 

“I couldn’t have stopped what happened, but I can do something now to protect you and my pack.” 

You made eye contact with him, once again feeling that string of fate, it pulled your hearts together, you could feel and see the red energy wrap around the two of you, but you could also feel Sunghoon’s heart trying to reject it. 

“We can’t be mates, you won’t allow it.” 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “Stop using your voodoo on me.” 

you scoffed, “I’m not using voodoo! I am using my—“

“Just shut up and come over here and kiss me.” 

You stared at him, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

You chuckled, “What?” 

“Y/N,” your heart stopped at hearing how beautifully your name rolled off his tongue, “I am fighting to push out that string of fate. Anytime I’ve thought about who my mate would be, I never once pictured it would be you. Yet here you are in front of me. We are total opposites and two different types of creatures. And if you go back into that house and ignore this fate, then we will continue this back and forth. But if you come over here and kiss me, I swear I’ll be good to you.” 

God damn that string of fate and god damn this vampire. 

You rushed to him, standing on your tiptoes to reach his lips. His hands found your waist. The red energy of this fate tied you two into a knot. Bonding you as mates. 

“Goddammit, hex girl,” he whispered in between kisses.

“Goddamnit, bloodsucker,” you whispered back. 

Sunghoon sat against the tree, with you between his legs. Back against his chest and his arms wrapped around you. 

You leaned your head against his chin, watching as the sun slowly peaked over the horizon. 

“How long were you the head witch?” Sunghoon asked, taking your hands in his. 

You sighed, “Only two years, I was next in line but I didn’t want it.” 

“Why didn’t you?” Sunghoon was curious. Witches were something totally different than vampires, dhampirs, and even werewolves, their way of life was completely in the opposite direction. 

“I didn’t feel as if I was ready,” you leaned more into him, “I don’t have as many years on me as some of the other warlocks and witches in the village.” 

“And what time period are you from exactly?” Sunghoon teased. 

“I saw the Salem Witch Trials happen.” 

“Gosh you’re so old!” he teased you more, planting kisses on your cheek. 

“Oh shut up!” you shoved your back into his chest, “I can NOT believe I am stuck with you until the world ends.”

“Get used to it, sweetheart.” 

You both laughed and leaned more into each other. 

“Can I take a photo of us?” Sunghoon asked, “I want to capture this moment.” 

You nodded and he pulled his phone from his pocket. 

“No camera?” you teased. 

“Phone cameras work just as well.” 

You looked into the phone's camera and gasped, “Oh my god! I can see your reflection!” 

Sunghoon dropped his arm and rolled his eyes, “Shut up with your stupid ass jokes and take a nice photo with me, hex girl.”

You decided to stop teasing him and smiled into the camera. 

Sunghoon stared down at the photo of the two of you, the happiness he felt, he could see it written all over his face. 

“You know, I’ve never captured something as beautiful as you.” 

You looked up at him, “And I’ve never thought I’d have my own personal photographer to take model photos of me.”

“God you’re so annoying.”

Hand in hand, you followed Sunghoon back to the house. 

Everyone was awake and stopped everything they were doing in shock at the sight they were seeing. 

“Who would have thought,” Jake teased.

Sunghoon tried hard to fight back his smile, “Shut up.” 

Everyone laughed and joked along. 

You were happy. 

The moment you bonded with Sunghoon, you felt the same bond with the others, including your best friend and the humans in the pack. 

It wasn’t like your coven, but the bond was still there. You belonged somewhere again. 

You looked up at your mate, his smile working numbers on your heart. God you loved him so much already. 

But Sunghoon’s smile faded, and so did the other vampire's smiles. 

The room fell silent. The humans and you are both confused, clearly not being able to hear what they are hearing. 

“Something isn’t right,” Heeseung said quietly. 

“Sunghoon?” you take your hand in his.

He squeezed your hand tightly.

Before Sunghoon could open his mouth to speak, you sensed the other presence. 

You dropped your mate's hand, and slowly back away. 

You looked at your half-blooded friend, she was already looking at you. 

“Dorian...” you whispered, “He broke the protection barrier.” 

Sunghoon’s jaw clenched, “Guys what do we do?” 

Before any more could be said, you and __ were running towards the door.” 

“No no no!!” Sunghoon and Jake both yelled, grabbing ahold of you and her. 

“Jake, fucking let go of me!!” she screamed. 

You also fought off Sunghoon’s grip on your arm, “Let go of me!” you hissed. 

“I am not letting you go out there!” He snapped.

You managed to get out of his hold and were out the door. 

“Y/N!” Sunghoon yelled, going after you. 

__ released Jake’s grip and was following behind. 

Everyone else was right behind. 

Dorian stood at the edge of the pond, two women standing at his side, and a black portal opened behind him. 

You clenched your fist and you stood in front of him at a distance. 

“Dorian!” you hissed. 

“I see you survived being burned,” he laughed, “You unfortunately didn’t get the fate as your coven did.” 

“How dare you speak of them!” You took a step forward, only to be stopped by Sunghoon getting in front of you. 

Sunghoon glared down at Dorian, his rage hitting its peak. 

Dorian laughed, “Oh this is too good! Two enemies mated? This pack continues to surprise me.” He glances over at your best friend with Jake also at her side, “Ahh, nice to see you again, __. I also see you’ve mated again.” 

“Shut up!” the dhampir snapped, “Don’t you dare bring him up!! You murderer!!” 

Dorian’s laughter grew louder the more he made eye contact with each member of the pack. 

Jungwon and Jay have death grips on their mates. Their eyes narrowed and their jaws clenched.

“I would love to stay and chat up with you guys, but I only came for two of your mates, and that is all.” Dorian looked at the women at his sides, “Ladies will you do the honors?” 

The women both smiled and disappeared. 

Sunghoon’s eyes widened, those two weren’t like normal vampires. 

“He used magic..” you whispered, “He figured out how to read the spells he stole from my coven.” 

Dorian’s laughter filled the air and it only made Sunghoon rage even more. 

With one blink of an eye, one of the women was at Sunghoon’s side, and then she was gone. She reappeared back at Dorian’s side with you in front of her, a knife pressed against your neck, the sharp edge making a cut, a small stream of blood dripping down. 

The other woman reappeared with the dhampir at Dorian’s side. 

As if on command, Sunghoon and Jake both rushed forward. 

They weren’t thinking clearly. Their brains fogged and only had their sights on their mates. 

Heeseung made it in time to grab Sunghoon, pulling him back, and Sunoo for Jake. 

“GIVE HER BACK!!” Sunghoon screamed, “FUCKING GIVE HER BACK TO ME.” 

“Sunghoon calm down,” Heeseung shouted, “He’s going to kill them both if you take one more step.” 

Sunghoon stopped fighting Heeseung, but Sunoo struggled to keep Jake at bay, until Heeseung repeated the same words again, causing Jake to fall to his knees. 

“Good,” Dorian said, “Would have been a shame to kill your mates in front of you.” 

“What do you want with our pack members!?” Jungwon snapped a low growl leaving his lips when he yelled. 

“I have some unfinished business with them,” Dorian stared down at Jungwon’s mate, causing Jungwon to press __ even closer to him, “I have some unfinished business with all of you actually, but Y/N and this dhampir are more important. They have something I need.” 

Sunghoon went to take a step, just to be stopped by hearing your whimpers as the knife was pressed harder against your neck. 

“Now then,” Dorian turned and faced the portal, “We shall be taking our leave then.”

He stepped through the portal, the women slowly following behind him. 

Sunghoon and Jake tried fighting Heeseung and Sunoo again. 

Both scream out for their mates.

Sunghoon felt powerless as he watched you disappear through the portal, quickly closing up after you stepped through. 

The last thing you saw was the tears that filled Sunghoon’s eyes. 

Once you were gone, all Sunghoon could do was fall to his knees, his fingers dug into the dirt as he stared down. 

The sounds of Jake’s cries muffled out. 

No one ever told Sunghoon how it would feel to have your mate taken from you, to feel the distance of how far they were. The loneliness of them not being at your side. 

Sunghoon couldn’t hold in his rage as he let out a yell until his voice was gone and his throat sore. 

The last thing Sunghoon remembered was Heeseung pulling him off the ground and dragging him into the house. 

—

Everyone sat in silence the next morning. 

Jake sat in the corner of the living room, knees to his chest and head on his knees, tuning out the world. 

Sunghoon stared down at the photo of you he had taken with his camera. His hands shook. 

“Dorian is going to pay.” Sunghoon said, breaking the silence, “I am going to make him pay for the things he’s done and get my mate back.”

[lunaetics]

right to the bone | coven

piper had bitten her nails down to the quick by the time the last of her guests arrived.

harry watched her pace the floor with steadily raising eyebrows. for all that they poked fun at her almost frantic veneer of stoicism, she typically was fairly calm. pristine clothes laid flat against her body, hair falling into strict curls around her shoulders, makeup done just right. even when events and opinions nipped at her skin to leave her red and marked, she walked without faltering and split fire with her footsteps.

so he didn't love the thought of whatever had her so visibly and palpably anxious.

bellamy’s gaze flicked to the door when the last of the invited wandered in, but it was mae that got up from her seat to intervene. "okay, pipes," she interrupted, walking into the heir apparent's path and taking both hands. "you really have to stop with the pacing. you're freaking me out." her thumbs grazed the back of piper's hands, skin against skin in a gentle caress, and she offered a smile. "do you want to sit down? mari made some tea."

harry glanced over at the girl in question. he couldn't say with any confidence that he understood why she was here; why any of them were here, especially the werewolves. he'd long since outgrown his parents' prejudice towards lycanthropes, but that didn't mean he was used to having parties with them. they were here anyway, right along with damaris and every person in their friend group. if damaris found her presence to be out of place, it didn't show in the way she made conversation with willow over cups of tea and the tea sandwiches that she'd brought over with her.

if there was one word to describe damaris, it would always be pleasant.

he looked back to mae and piper just in time to see the latter force a smile. "thank you," she said, ever the prim leader the coven had crafted her to be. "but no, i can't. i need to stand for this. that's everyone, correct?"

"you made the guest list," ethan pointed out, not totally unkindly. they weren't any clearer on why piper had called them all here than anyone else was, but they didn't particularly mind that; they liked everyone here well enough to accept whatever the reason was. "does it look like we're missing anyone else?"

piper swept her gaze across the room quickly, taking in every face and letting her shoulders relax when everyone was accounted for. she exhaled softly through her lips and nodded. "okay."

"okay?" mae echoed.

piper smiled at her again and squeezed her hands. "i'm good, yeah." her hands fell to her sides as mae stepped back to join the others, piper on one side of the room and everyone else on the clear opposite. "thank you all for coming here. i know this was... sudden and weird, but i can't... i need to get this out and i need all of you to hear it, because i need all of you to help me fix it. but you have to promise me that whatever i say, you'll help me. and you can't tell anyone outside of this room. not our parents, not the elders, not other coven members. just us. promise me; please."

[thedemonlady]

Coven Akali Bio:

They came to Akali encircling from the tree canopy at an impossible speed, their taunts leading her deeper still into the Elderwood until at last she was lost. Then a voice whispered the choice right into her ear: die in these woods alone or emerge in their charge. And so she walked out of the woods... straight into the arms of the Coven."

[xotherwcrldsx]

@elliehallers this also hugely gives me Soul Coven vibes!!

✧*:･ﾟ✧ In this night and in this hour, we call upon the ancient power ✧･ﾟ: *✧

∟ Charmed [1998 - 2006]

[hoo-n-i-ki]

Cold One. (Chapter 2)

Anyone but her.

PAIRING - Volturi!Riki x Cullen!fem!reader

GENRE - Twilight AU

CHAPTER WC - 7801 (I got carried away)

WARNINGS - Vampires, graphic violence, blood, death (like a lot of it). Very plot heavy. Morally grey Riki (this is a complete work of fiction and is in no way a representation of him).

☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾

The throne room is silent, save for the footsteps of a messenger approaching the dais. The hooded figure kneels before the three kings. Aro, perched on his throne, eagerly extends a cold hand for the messenger to press his own against.

Excitement flickers in Aro’s eyes—then, he laughs.

“Well, well,” he muses. “Carlisle has turned another for the first time nearly a century.”

Riki, leaning against the carved stone walls with his arms crossed, finally looks up. Very little intrigues him after exactly 200 years of this life, but hopefully this is something as rousing as the Cullens’ hybrid debacle from 18 years ago.

Caius scoffs in distaste. “I assume this one will be another vegetarian?”

“If Carlisle turned them, he must believe they’ll adapt to his way of life,” Jane says simply from the side, youthful face as stony as ever.

“Pity. Setting up yet another for an eternity of insatiability.” Marcus shakes his head.

Aro hums. “What do you think, Mind Stealer?”

Riki’s crimson gaze meets the ancient ones. “He’s sired several, before.” He shrugs.

“Such apathy,” Caius sneers.

“Someone has to keep an eye on the bigger picture.”

Through his several altercations with them, Riki knows that this coven doesn’t seek trouble, but they’re always at the center of it, and it always finds its way to Volterra.

They are a family of honor. As honorable as he once was.

☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾

Present day.

The crack of thunder drowns out the sound of the victim’s screams.

You finish feasting on the redhead, and toss her corpse into a nearby dumpster like she’s nothing but an empty sack.

To be fair, that is true.

Let the cops find her. Even on the off chance that they could trace this back to you, then what? You can now take 20 of their strongest in a heartbeat.

As you saunter out of the alleyway, a lone car drifts by, music playing in the dead of night.

“Ooh, you set my soul alight,” you sing along to the familiar tune beneath your breath, off-key.

This is what sets your soul alight. The hunt. The taste running down your throat like no expensive champagne ever has.

Your heart? A different story. Perhaps it’s your human self’s dedication to saving lives rather than ending them trying to peek through.

But your heart stopped a month ago—so it certainly does not win this battle. It is merely a symbol, just like your humanity altogether.

You are now certain of three things.

First is that you are now a vampire.

Second is that your parents were murdered by vampires.

And third is that you are now a murderer.

You strut without a care in the world. Even if someone were to discern your features despite the dark, Vancouver is full of interesting characters. No one would bat an eye at some messy hair, and you could easily play off your blood-stained lips and red eyes as some new goth makeup trend.

You consider chasing the car’s driver, but you’re full.

For now.

So why you ended up finding yourself at your aunt and uncle’s neighborhood? You can’t really tell—you’re just going off on the instincts that have carried you thus far.

There weren’t any street cameras back when you lived here, but just in case there are now, you use your speed to move so fast they wouldn’t even be able to catch a single glimpse of you, and you enter the damned house without a sound.

The only problem, probably, with being a newborn is how heightened your emotions are. This isn’t you, (Y/N), you have to endure, Carlisle tried to tell you the last time you saw him.

But he doesn’t know a single thing about you.

He doesn’t understand the bitterness you carry.

You’re 11 years old, standing in this same doorway, clutching your school bag that’s soaked from the rain because they conveniently forgot to pick you up.

“I don’t know why you insist on acting so pitiful,” your aunt sneers, “if you weren’t so ungrateful, perhaps we’d actually want to help you.”

She wipes imaginary sweat from her brow as she flicks through primetime channels. “Do you know how hard it is to take care of a child that isn’t even ours? We had plans, (Y/N). You ruined them. We should’ve sent you to a foster home.”

You’d scrub the floors until your fingers ached, only for her to find some invisible speck of dirt and make you do it all over again. You remember how they’d lock the fridge at night, how they’d turn off the hot water before you could shower, how they always reminded you that you don’t belong there.

And your uncle’s attention would only come in the form of disappointment. “The chores aren’t done? Didn’t we feed you last night? Maybe you need to start earning your keep before you start demanding so much.”

But the chores were always done—just not in his wife’s eyes. Demanding so much? The only thing they give you is a roof over your head—and even that comes with strings attached.

You never forget.

And now you truly don’t belong in this house, so let’s see if they recognize you.

Your lips curl into something between a grin and a snarl in preparation as you hear footsteps coming down the stairs.

“(Y/N?)” Your uncle gasps as he rounds the entryway.

You can only imagine what he’s seeing. It’s what you saw that first time you looked in a mirror after you woke up. You, but not really you. A version so polished it almost gives off the uncanny valley effect.

You wonder if he noticed your eyes. If they’re unsettling him as much as the dreaded man’s did to you.

“Hi, uncle!” You chirp.

He gulps. “Um. How did you get in? We had the locks changed years ago.”

You inwardly scoff. Of course they did. Surely, the second your 16-year-old self left, they decided that you’ll never be welcome here again. It was probably your aunt’s idea—he’s always been her puppet.

You’re glad you’re seeing him first. That way, you can save the best for last.

“Hm? Aren’t you happy to see me?” You ask, faux confusion dripping from your voice.

Your uncle takes a step back, bumping into the console table behind him. The lamp wobbles, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are locked onto yours.

Then—her voice.

“Who the hell are you talking to?”

Right on cue.

You hear her heels clicking as she approaches, the sound triggering something deep in your bones. An old instinct, long since buried. But that fear isn’t yours anymore.

She steps into view, arms crossed, annoyance painted across her face. “Oh, it’s you.” Her gaze flicks over your bloodstained clothes, your too-perfect features, your red eyes. She scoffs. “God, you look ridiculous.”

You grin. She has no idea.

Your uncle makes a noise—half gasp, half whimper. She turns to him, irritated. “What is your problem?”

That’s when you strike.

You’re on him in an instant, fingers wrapping around his throat, lifting him clean off the ground. His feet kick uselessly.

“You should’ve been nicer to me. I would’ve spared you.” You fake-pout.

A choked gurgle escapes him, cut short when your teeth sink into his flesh.

The first time you were forced to scrub wine stains out of the carpet, you cried. You scrubbed and scrubbed, but the red wouldn’t come out.

Now, you don’t care if the stains never fade.

Your aunt screams.

You drop his lifeless body and turn to her, licking the blood off your lips.

She stumbles back, trembling, clutching the silk of her robe as if it’ll protect her. “What—what are you—”

You mimic her earlier words, tilting your head. “God, you look ridiculous.”

She turns to run. You let her. For just a second.

She barely makes it three steps before you cut her off, slamming the door shut with one hand.

She gasps, spinning around, eyes wide with terror. “Please—”

“Please?” You chuckle. “Please?” You lean in, voice dropping to a whisper. “You never listened when I pleaded.”

Then, you take what’s yours.

Afterwards, you finally step outside, not caring enough to hide the bodies the way your parents’ killers did.

The night air is cold and crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain-soaked pavement and something else—something vaguely familiar. You stiffen.

“Newborns. Always so messy.”

The voice is warm, teasing. You turn just as a towering figure steps out of the shadows, arms crossed over his chest, dimples flashing.

“Hey, little sis.”

Your jaw clenches. “Emmett.”

From behind him, Rosalie emerges, golden hair cascading over her shoulder, arms folded like she’d rather be anywhere else. Her sharp eyes flick to the bodies inside the window, then back to you.

“I see subtlety isn’t your thing,” she remarks dryly.

Your lip curls. “What are you two doing here?”

“Looking for you,” Emmett answers. “Carlisle was hoping you’d come back on your own, but…” He gestures vaguely at the crime scene. “Yeah. That wasn’t happening.”

You scoff. “And what, you’re here to convince me? Because I’m not interested.”

Rosalie rolls her eyes. “You’re barely over a month old, and you’re already acting like you know everything.”

“I know enough,” you snap.

Emmett sighs, stepping closer. “Look, I get it. You’re angry. You think we don’t understand, but we do. We’ve been there.” He gestures between himself and Rosalie. “But this isn’t the way.”

You bark out a laugh. “And what is? Playing house with a bunch of self-righteous hypocrites?”

Emmett doesn’t flinch, but there’s something softer in his gaze now. Something that makes your throat tighten.

“Come back with us,” he says. “Just for a little while. Hear Carlisle out.”

Your eyes flick between them. Rosalie’s expression is unreadable, but Emmett… Emmett is genuine.

You glance back at the house, at the bodies cooling inside.

Then, after a long beat, you sigh. “…Fine.”

You follow the couple as they run to Victoria, your feet taking you faster than a helicopter could have. The ocean breeze whips against your face as you make the leap from the mainland to Vancouver Island, landing on the rocky shore with grace.

Within moments, the Cullen house is in sight, nestled in the trees, glowing softly against the dark night. Emmett and Rosalie lead you inside, not a word spoken, but the tension in the air thick enough to taste. You cross the threshold into a house that doesn’t feel like home but feels oddly familiar all the same.

Carlisle is the first to greet you. He’s calm, even in the face of your obvious disdain. “(Y/N),” he says with a warm tone. “We’re glad you’re here. Let’s sit down, please.”

You look around at the family, noting their stiff postures, their eyes full of… concern. Each couple stands off to a side, watching you, even the dhampir girl with brown eyes with her werewolf—now human—mate, who has long since healed from the tiger shifter attack since the last time you saw him.

Carlisle gestures for you to sit, and you do so reluctantly, crossing your arms. “We need to talk.”

You don’t respond at first, your eyes narrowing as you keep your attention on him. Carlisle continues, his voice steady. “There were questions about you at the hospital. They asked if we had seen you. I told them you had to leave suddenly. Your uncle fell ill, so you went to take care of him.”

You freeze for a second, a bitter laugh slipping from your lips. He did indeed fall.

“Does Dr. Park know?” Not that it matters. It’s not like you’ll be returning to that open buffet of death.

Carlisle nods. “He knows, but he can’t say anything without directly implicating himself. It’s why he just… let us go.”

“Our chief convinced the tigers to make a treaty with the Cullens—with you—to leave them be as long as they no longer turn anybody else or drink from locals,” Jacob, the wolf, speaks up.

Which drags your eyes once more to Renesmee, next to him. There is blood coursing through her veins, and her scent is very sweet. It doesn’t beckon you as strongly as human blood does, but it doesn’t stop you from looking.

Bella follows your eyes, and her head whips toward you instantly, eyes narrowing. “Stay away from her,” she warns, voice low and dangerous.

You raise an eyebrow and lean back in your seat with an exaggerated casualness. “Relax, Bella,” your voice drips with amusement as Renesmee rolls her eyes, her vampiric side giving her enough courage to not be phased by your red gaze. “She smells good like perfume, not like food.”

She’s still tense, growling ever so quietly, but her shoulders relax a bit.

You roll your eyes and turn to Carlisle. “I’m obviously not welcome here. Can I go now?”

He sighs. “You are always welcome here, (Y/N). You’re one of us now—this can be your home. We really needed to make sure that you were safe.”

“Safe?” You echo with an incredulous laugh. “I am safe. You want to weaken me with your animal blood.”

Carlisle’s eyes darken, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he waits for you to continue, and you do, your emotions swelling as the words slip out without thought.

“Do you know what my entire life has been about, doctor?” you ask, the last word bleeding with mockery. “It’s been about studying so I could get away from my aunt and uncle, or wondering what happened to my parents—why they were murdered, why I was left behind, and working on how I could be the savior I couldn’t be as a three-year-old. But now? Now I know, and now I can live.”

The room goes silent. The family watches you, each of them processing what you’ve said. You don’t look at them as they exchange glances. You don’t need to. Your mind is already made up.

You stand to leave, but Carlisle doesn’t back down. “I understand you’re angry. But what happened to your family… it doesn’t have to define who you are now.

“What you call weakness, is actually anything but. It’s the strength to endure, to be able to live publicly. You can learn to temper the cravings, if you would just allow yourself to try—you’d thank yourself for it, in the long run. And you’ll never have to be alone.”

You can feel the anger rising within you again. You’ve heard this speech before. The right way. The safe way. You’re done listening to those words.

“I don’t feel alone,” you growl, eyes locking with Carlisle’s, and your voice comes out cold, controlled. “And don’t treat me like I’m broken, because I’m not. I’m free.”

You’re not sure if you’re convincing them or yourself. If this is true freedom, or if you’re letting yourself into a new cage, one barred by thirst.

The Cullens are silent, watching you carefully, but you don’t let your voice waver. Every single one of your senses is telling you what you want, so no one is going to take that from you.

“Don’t worry.” You turn to them one last time. “For saving me, I’ll respect you enough to not drink from locals.”

You step outside, where the only sound accompanying you is the crunch of leaves and snaps of twigs beneath your feet.

Until another set of footsteps catches up to you, and you groan.

“I know what it’s like.”

You turn around to see the quiet one—Jasper.

“The hunger. It’s like an intrinsic part of you that you can’t outrun. And I didn’t. When I first turned, I couldn’t fathom living without it. Every human scent, every drop of blood, it felt like I was drowning in it… and I enjoyed that drowning.”

You quirk an eyebrow.

He groans, as though remembering his red-eyed days pains him. Whether out of temptation or guilt, though, you can’t tell.

“It wasn’t like I decided to become vegetarian overnight,” he continues. “At first, I kept giving in. I slipped up, again and again. But I needed to learn that I’m now different, and that I can’t spend an eternity surviving instead of living.”

You cross your arms, but it feels like your armor is starting to crack.

“It was about progress. Day by day, it’d get easier. Of course, I had Alice through it all.” He smiles fondly at the ground at the thought of the pixie girl. “She was my anchor.”

You don’t respond right away. You feel your jaw tighten as you scoff inwardly. An anchor. Right. How nice for him. Alice might have been there to hold him steady, but you? Nada. Romance, connection, it all seems so… impossible with your current circumstances. You’ll never have someone like Alice, and you sure as hell won’t let yourself rely on anyone else. Not now.

Jasper watches you closely, sensing your hesitation, but he doesn’t push. He simply waits.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” you say, the words leaving your mouth before you can stop them. The idea of controlling the thirst, figuring out a whole other way to live this life that still feels so foreign, it’s completely overwhelming.

Jasper gives a quiet, knowing smile. “I can train you, if you want, because I didn’t know if I could, either. But I didn’t let myself give up. And neither should you. Not if you want to be more than just alive.”

For a moment, silence hangs between you, and then, finally, you nod. “Okay. I’ll let you train me. But don’t expect me to be easy to work with.”

His grin widens just slightly. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from a newborn.”

A week.

Two weeks into this stupid training.

And it’s not getting any better.

You’ve always tried to be someone who dealt with things head-on, but this… this is something else. The thirst is an ever-present beast, gnawing at your insides, and yet, no matter how hard you try, the animal blood just doesn’t sit right with you.

Jasper’s patience is a constant, though. Every time you fail to control your desire for human blood, he’s there, offering gentle guidance, but it feels like you’re fighting a losing battle. And you hate it.

“Come on, (Y/N),” Jasper urges, his voice calm but persistent. “You’ve got this. Just focus on the hunt.”

You growl, fangs flashing as you push through the motion, trying to force yourself to focus on the deer in front of you. But every time you go in for the kill, the blood is just… wrong. The taste is foreign and metallic, the warmth lacking. This hunt isn’t the same.

“I don’t get it,” you mutter under your breath, stepping back from the animal. “Why can’t I just do it my way?”

Jasper sighs. “Because, (Y/N), that way isn’t sustainable. You’re a doctor, for fuck’s sake. You will have to live with the guilt for eternity once the newborn frenzy passes.”

You were a doctor.

You’ve been trying, for weeks now, to make the animal blood work, but it’s just not you—not the current you, at least, and to hell with that meek, old version. It’s too bland, too unsatisfying. Like trying to replace a steak with a bowl of cereal.

“This isn’t living.” You shake your head. “This is sacrifice.”

Before Jasper can respond, a smooth voice breaks through the tension.

“What a nice surprise!”

You both turn to see a black-haired girl leaning lazily against a shadowed tree, arms crossed, watching you intently with a smirk playing at her lips. You catch the now-familiar smell of immortality. A vampire with the relaxed air of someone who’s seen a lot and doesn’t care to hide it.

Jasper’s eyes narrow slightly, recognizing her. “Misora.”

“Jasper.” She nods coolly, pushing herself off the tree and taking a few steps forward, her gaze shifting to you. “And who’s this? A new recruit?”

You glare but say nothing.

“Carlisle turned her a couple months ago, and I’m trying to teach her how to hunt animals.” He turns to you. “Misora is a nomad. We traveled with the Mexican coven around the same time, over a century ago.”

“Still not fond of animal blood, huh?” Her smirk widens, voice dripping with casual amusement. “You know,” she continues, her voice low and thoughtful, “forcing yourself to drink from animals is never going to feel right. It’s unnatural. But that doesn’t mean you have to give in to the bloodlust completely. You just need to learn how to control it in moderation.”

Jasper stiffens at her words, but Misora doesn’t seem to care. Her gaze never leaves yours, her confidence only growing as she speaks. “You’ve got that thirst in you. I can see it in your eyes. But the trick is not to drown in it. You can learn to kill subtly. Take what you need, don’t waste. You’d be surprised how much you can get from a little. You’re a predator, after all. You just have to think like one.”

She walks by close enough for her red eyes to shine beneath the afternoon sun, and for her skin to sparkle as brightly as you and Jasper’s.

You look at her, stunned. “You… drink from humans.”

“Of course I do,” she responds with a chuckle. “Why would I waste time hunting animals? Humans are far more interesting. And, let’s face it, they’re a lot more filling.”

Jasper steps between the two of you, his eyes flashing with warning. “I don’t think this is the kind of training (Y/N) needs.”

Misora raises a brow, clearly not intimidated. “Oh, I’m sure you’ve taught her all about controlling her impulses, Jasper. But there’s a world out there beyond your little rules. She needs to learn how to survive in it. You can’t live in a bubble forever.”

She is speaking your language.

“You’ll never feel alive if you’re constantly fighting yourself. Live for what makes you feel whole,” she says with a knowing look.

You feel the pull of her words, and for a moment, you’re caught between the two very different perspectives: the Cullens’ careful, controlled existence and Misora’s unapologetic freedom.

You turn your eyes to Jasper. “Well. I already gave your way a try.”

The girl grins as you walk over to where she stands in the clearing.

“I’m gonna teach her the Nishimura way,” she laughs in Jasper’s direction and drapes a hand over your shoulder as she leaves, and without a second look, you choose to follow.

Your life is too long for you to not explore every option.

Over the span of just a week, the girl helps you adapt to the art of subtleties—of doing what you want, but having the peace of mind that you did not cause a ruckus.

Not that you’d ever felt guilt at your messiness, but you’ll take the Cullens’ word for it that you’ll be hit with more sense after the newborn frenzy passes.

See? You did gain something from the righteousness they spewed.

“So where are you from?” You ask your new mentor.

“Japan.”

“A long way from home, huh?”

She remains quiet for a second, jaw clenched, not turning to you. “There is nothing that makes it a home for me there, anymore. Hasn’t been in over 150 years. It’s why I travel all over, except Japan.”

“How did you turn?”

Misora doesn’t speak right away, her lips pressing into a thin line. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve overstepped.

“I was sick,” she finally says. “I knew I didn’t have long.”

Something tightens in your frozen chest. “What kind of sick?”

“Didn’t have a name for it, back then, but it was the same thing my father had. My body was weak. My bones ached, my breath was short. Healers tried, but I always knew.” She shrugs. “So I lived as much as I could. Climbed mountains, even when my lungs burned. Ate what I wanted, danced even when I was coughing blood.” She pauses. “I wasn’t afraid. I made my peace with dying. I was surrounded by my mother, my sister, my friends, and if I’d died, I would’ve been with my late father and brother.”

Her smile is all sorrow, but you can do nothing but listen with furrowed brows.

She lets out a short, humorless laugh. “But I woke up, and I was this.”

You don’t have to ask what this means. The blood-red of her eyes, the effortless grace in her every movement, the unnatural stillness that clings to her. The inescapable weight of eternity.

“I don’t even know who did it,” she admits, voice bitter. “One moment, I was dying, and then… I wasn’t. Instead, I was forced to live long enough to be the one watching everyone I love die.”

You don’t know what to say. You think you should say something, offer some kind of condolence, but what would that even be worth? Misora doesn’t seem like she’d appreciate it anyway.

“I hate this,” she says, her voice raw, but her expression carefully blank. “I hate this immortality. It’s a curse. A joke. But I have to make the most of it, I guess.”

You glance down for a second, before deciding to ask the question you’ve been wondering for a while. “So why do you bother being discrete? Fuck this world and its rules. It’s not like anybody could harm you, anyways.”

“Oh, but there are people who can.”

You frown. The Cullens—Carlisle, especially—always made it sound like it’s morality.

“If we’re that powerful, we should be able to handle it.”

Misora laughs—actually laughs—but it’s sharp-edged. “Tell that to the Volturi.”

“The who?”

“The leeches who think they’re kings,” she says dryly. “They’re the reason we hide. The moment a vampire gets too flashy, too ambitious, too noticeable—” she drags her thumb across her throat. “Gone.”

You tilt your head. “And they’re strong enough to make everyone listen?”

“They have numbers. And power.” Her pale fingers flex at her sides. “There are vampires in their ranks who can do more than just be strong and fast. They can blind you, torture you, there’s even one they call the Mind Stealer, or the Puppeteer—very few people actually knows his name, but he can make you do whatever he wants with a single thought. If he wanted, he could make you kill yourself, and you’d do it with a smile.”

A chill runs down your spine, remembering the moments you behaved quite noticeably. Did Emmett and Rosalie clean up after you?

Misora scoffs. “Cowards, all of them. They hide behind their pretty little powers, thinking they’re gods.” Her lip curls. “Aro, their dear leader, is the worst of them all. Slimy little bastard.”

You smirk at her words. “Not a fan, I take it?”

She laughs, sharp and cold. “Not in the slightest.” There’s a dangerous glint in her eye. “If I was able to, I’d rip those smug assholes apart, just to watch the dust settle.”

So you follow in the cynical, but lively vampire’s footsteps.

In the span of another week, you feel more spirited than you did in the two months before. Hell, in the 22 years before.

Every night, you and Misora scour various cities, blending into the nightlife, finding your prey with ease. Her laughter is infectious, and her confidence bleeds into your own.

Tonight is no different.

You lay your lovely squad of victims near a warehouse deep in the city—somewhere no one should care to notice, but you’ll clean up after yourselves regardless.

Then you indulge.

Your movements are gradually growing more precise, with razor-sharp instincts. You sink your teeth in before the woman can scream, drinking deep, feeling the familiar rush flood your senses. The warm tang of fresh blood coats your tongue, leaving you buzzing with energy and satisfaction.

You wipe the corner of your mouth, chuckling at something Misora’s saying, but the laughter dies in your throat when moonlight casts a silvery glow over the woman crumpled at your feet.

A middle-aged woman. Her face is ashen, eyes wide open, unseeing, accusing. Your hands shake as you take her in. The faded scars along her limbs. The slight dent in her chest where a surgeon once worked to save her life.

Your hands worked to save her life.

The memory crashes into you like the most vicious wave. Around six months ago, your first week as an intern at Victoria General. A late-night car crash. Blood pooling on the gurney.

You’d stabilized her, alongside Dr. Cullen.

And now, you’ve killed her.

Your breath hitches, the remnants of her blood burning like acid in your throat. Memories flood back—the beeping monitors, the tense urgency as you prepped her for surgery, the relief that had filled you when it went well.

Something inside you breaks. Your knees buckle, hitting the cold, hard ground. The weight of your actions crashes over you, suffocating and heavy. This isn’t just a random victim. This is someone whose life you held in your hands—twice.

“(Y/N)?” Misora’s voice is sharp, alarmed. She crouches beside you, her hands gripping your shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

You shove the body away like it burns. Your fingers tangle in your hair, pressing into your scalp, like you can dig into your own skull and tear this moment out.

But you were never able to do that.

“I—I knew her,” you choke out, eyes glued to the lifeless body. “I saved her. I saved her, and now she’s dead because of me.”

You were a doctor. You were supposed to save people. Not this.

The breaths you don’t even need, just taking them in because you need to feel human right now, rattle in your throat. The newborn instincts that have ruled you since your turning are drowned out by something deeper. A guilt so raw it feels like it’s killing you. The heightening of emotions makes your horror so unbearable, it’s sickening.

Misora’s expression shifts, her usual indifference faltering, shifting to worry, as she processes your turmoil. “Shit.”

The world tilts, spinning around you, and all you can see are the faces of the people you’ve drained. Were any of them people you saved, too? Are you undoing all the good you did in your human life?

Misora tugs at your arm, desperation seeping into her voice. “We need to get you out of here.”

You don’t resist as she hauls you to your feet, your body numb as she practically drags you away, leaving the carnage behind.

The night blurs past you.

And suddenly, you’re at the Cullens’ doorstep. The house is quiet, lights dim against the backdrop of the dense woods. Misora pounds on the door, her urgency echoing through the trees.

Esme answers, her eyes widening at the sight of you. Blood on your trembling hands. Red eyes shattered. “What happened?”

“She’s breaking down,” Misora blurts, a rare tremor in her voice. “She needs help, and I’ve never dealt with this before.”

The Cullens are there in an instant, guiding you inside, their faces painted with concern. But your gaze remains fixed on the floor, unable to lift the crushing weight pressing down on your chest.

For two days.

You don’t hunt.

You don’t move.

Carlisle sits with you in quiet understanding. Esme’s soft voice tries to soothe. Jasper subtly tamps down your emotions when they get too overwhelming. But none of it fixes the gaping hole inside you.

You don’t know how to live with this. You can only sit with the haze of guilt and horror hanging over you like a storm cloud.

But then Alice gasps.

Your head snaps up, and find her with her fingers gripping the back of the chair, knuckles like stone. Her golden eyes are distant, unfocused.

She’s the one that can see the future.

“Alice?” Jasper’s voice is low, worried.

Her voice is barely a whisper, laced with dread. “The Volturi. They’re coming.” She turns to you, eyes shaking. “For you.”

The room falls into a suffocating silence, everyone’s eyes on Alice as the reality of your actions settles over them. You share a glance with Misora, and it hits you.

You didn’t clean up after yourselves.

Now you’re gonna be the prey.

You brace yourself for the fallout. For Carlisle’s disappointment, for Esme’s soft but inevitable grief. Maybe even for Bella to suggest running and get her own little family away from everything, or for Rosalie to outwardly scoff that this isn’t her problem.

But Carlisle steps forward, his expression calm, steady. Decisive.

“Then we prepare.”

You blink. “What?”

His voice is firm, without hesitation. “We stand with you.”

Your chest tightens.

Esme nods, her warm, unyielding presence wrapping around you like a shield. “You’re family now,” she says softly, like it’s the simplest truth in the world. “And family doesn’t abandon each other.”

Alice finally blinks, the vision fading, and when she refocuses, there’s something sharp in her gaze. “They’re not here yet. We have time.”

Jasper crosses his arms, his posture shifting into something subtly protective. “Not much, though.”

Emmett grins, cracking his knuckles. “Doesn’t matter. Let them come.”

Rosalie exhales sharply through her nose, but there’s no venom in it. “You’re a reckless idiot,” she mutters, but then, after a long pause— “And if you die, it’ll reflect badly on us.”

The words are sharp, but the meaning underneath them is clear.

She’s in.

A lump forms in your throat. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve their loyalty. Not after what you’ve done.

But they’re giving it to you anyway.

“I’m staying too.”

You snap your head toward Misora.

She leans against the wall, arms crossed, but her usual smirk is gone. There’s no amusement in her eyes, no mischief. Only something cold. Determined.

“You don’t have to—”

“Oh, shut up.” She rolls her eyes. “I messed up right there with you. Do you think I’d let you die alone?” She shoves her hands into her pockets. “You’re annoying as hell, but you’re my friend, now. And besides, the Cullens are gonna need someone on their side who actually knows how to fight dirty.“

Jasper arches a brow but doesn’t argue.

Night shifts to dawn. Saturday shifts to Thursday, and the air isn’t any less thick with anticipation.

A suffocating stillness settles over the clearing outside the Cullens’ house. As the sun starts to rise, your skins begin to glimmer, a show of beauty despite being braced for a fight. With bodies coiled like springs, golden, crimson, and even two pairs of brown eyes lock onto the shadowy figures emerging from the trees.

A group of five. No fanfare, no grand entrance—just the soft rustling of their cloaks as they step forward, but the air of authority that radiates from them is unmistakable.

“Why is it always your family, Carlisle?” A blonde girl, barely a teenager, starts.

“Lovely to see you again, Jane.” He responds with a curt smile at her.

There’s a guy who’s identical to her, another guy who’s insanely tall. But it’s the fourth one that steals your breath away.

The moment you see him, something in you stops.

He is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

Of course, all vampires have an unnatural allure, but him? It’s something else entirely. Sharp jawline, full, rosy lips, hair as dark as the midnight sky. His presence is quiet, effortless, but every movement is precise, lethal in a way that doesn’t need to be flaunted. And his eyes—deep crimson, glinting like polished rubies beneath his hood—fix on you, unreadable.

Jewels. Not the bloodstains that are your eyes, that are the eyes of the vampire from your childhood, but rubies.

You should be afraid. You are afraid.

But a part of you can’t look away.

Until Misora gasps. A choked, disbelieving noise.

She’s staring at him, wide-eyed, something breaking across her face.

Edward stiffens beside you, his eyes flicking between them as he reads her thoughts. “Riki is your brother?” He murmurs.

Your gaze snaps to Edward, then back to Misora.

Misora, whose lips part soundlessly, whose expression is stuck somewhere between recognition and denial.

“Riki?” she echoes, like the name is foreign in her own mouth.

You whip back to her, confusion knotting in your chest. “I thought you told me your brother was dead.”

Her hands clench at her sides, voice barely above a heartbroken whisper, “My brother is dead.”

☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾

For the first time since Riki became the Volturi’s most valuable weapon, he is distracted.

He doesn’t get distracted. It’s not possible. His gift demands complete control. His mind is a fortress—impenetrable, untouchable, locked into his duty like an ironclad machine. He does not waver. He does not hesitate.

And yet.

When his eyes land on her, something fractures.

She is standing among the Cullens, body tensed. She’s afraid, but she’s hiding behind the bravado of a newborn. But all he can see is her eyes. They aren’t golden like the rest of the coven. But it’s not just the color that pulls him in—it’s the weight behind them, the quiet storm she carries in her gaze.

She is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

A foolish thought. A human thought. One that shouldn’t exist in his mind.

But it lingers.

Then, he sees the other pair of red eyes—a stranger vampire who didn’t stand with the Cullens 18 years ago.

At first, he doesn’t register who she is. Because this girl—no, this woman—is not Misora. Misora was fifteen. Misora was still human, still soft around the edges, still warm. This person standing before him is none of those things. She is tall, fully grown, her limbs no longer awkward with adolescence but poised, sharp. She does not have a heartbeat.

And yet—

He knows.

Knows in the way an older brother knows his little sister, no matter how many centuries, how much distance has warped them apart.

For the first time in decades, something cold and dangerous slides under Riki’s ribs. An emotion he was never supposed to feel again.

What have they done to you?

Jane is saying something. Bringing up all of the newborn’s victims.

Riki isn’t hearing her.

The words slip past him, distant and irrelevant. Even the steady presence of the guard beside him is background noise.

His focus is fixed entirely on his baby sister, except she’s not.

He takes a step forward, the movement small but purposeful. The Cullens tense. The girl with the beautifully scarred eyes watches him with something unreadable in her expression, but he barely registers it.

He does the only thing he knows how to do.

“Step forward.”

The words are soft. Deceptively calm.

Misora flinches.

And something inside Riki wrenches.

The command had been soft—barely more than a breath—but the moment the words leave his lips, he sees the exact second she realizes what’s happening.

She knows.

She knows what he’s doing. Who he is. What he is.

A flicker of resistance shudders through her, instinctive and useless. His grip is too strong. His gift—so carefully honed, so ruthlessly wielded—is absolute.

And still, she fights.

Misora has always been stubborn.

Even now, as her body jerks forward against her will, her jaw locks tight, her eyes burning with defiance. The others react immediately—a low growl from the golden-haired one, a blur of movement—protection, Riki realizes, they’re protecting her—but before anyone can intervene, Misora lifts a hand. Wait.

Riki swallows against something thick in his throat.

He tightens his hold, his gift slithering into her nervous system like an iron vice, seizing control of her vocal cords, pressing against her prefrontal cortex. His voice, when he speaks, is measured. “What is your name?”

Misora’s jaw locks.

But against her own will, against every ounce of resistance in her body, the truth gets wrung from her throat. “Misora Nishimura.”

The sound of her voice, of the name he hasn’t heard in centuries, his name, hits him like a stake to the heart.

“This isn’t the newborn we were sent to kill,” Demetri leans in to whisper, “this is her accomplice.”

But Riki knows, and he doesn’t care. Not anymore. He holds up a hand to silence the guard—his peer in title, but Demetri knows which one of them is truly in charge.

“When and by whom were you turned?” He forces his expression to remain neutral.

Her teeth clench. She’s fighting so hard.

Something curdles in his chest. This is the girl that used to play fight with him, when he’d come home from a long, painful day with the Yakuza. She didn’t fight against him. She’d tug on the sleeves of his kimono, demanding his attention.

“1832. I don’t know who turned me, I was sick.” A tremor runs through her limbs. Her eyes burn with fury, with desperation, with something pleading.

And for the first time in 200 years, his hands start to shake.

And he lets her go, taking a second to steady himself.

He turns to the other girl—the one who isn’t his sister, the one he should’ve questioned first. The one who, for a split second, had stolen his breath before the rest of the world fell away.

But now, he hesitates.

It’s a minuscule thing, barely a fraction of a second, but in his line of work, in his particular skillset, a fraction of a second is an eternity. It’s the difference between absolute dominance and doubt. Between control and chaos.

“You’re working with her?” He asks Misora, voice quieter than before, almost contemplative.

He shouldn’t have asked. He should’ve commanded. He should’ve taken the answer like he always does, forced his will into her bones the way he’s done with so many others.

But he doesn’t.

And Misora—now free, her limbs shaking, her breathing ragged—fixes him with a glare that’s both razor-sharp and filled with something wounded, something raw.

And then she scoffs, a harsh, humorless sound. “Eat shit, Riki Volturi. Or should I say Mind Stealer? Or Puppeteer?”

The name lands like a strike of lightning, coming from her mouth.

Not Nishimura. Volturi.

His jaw tightens. He doesn’t let himself react. Doesn’t let himself acknowledge the way it burns. But she’s staring at him like he’s nothing, like he’s a stranger, like he’s already long gone.

He remains silent as he sorts his mind for what to do. A side of him that has long been dormant is now resurrected, and he doesn’t know what to sacrifice.

“You hesitated.”

The other girl with red eyes.

The girl with eyes like his. Maybe his eyes are even as broken as hers, right now.

One whose voice sounds like music to his ears.

Carlisle and Esme try to tug her backwards, but she’s already caught his attention.

A scoff from the guard behind him. “Hesitated?” the vampire sneers, like the very idea is laughable. “The Mind Stealer doesn’t hesitate. Don’t delude yourself, newborn.”

Riki doesn’t react.

Alec takes a step forward, eyes gleaming with malice. “She’s wasting our time. They’re wasting our time. Kill the two girls and be done with it.”

Kill them?

Anyone but her.

Misora stiffens beside (Y/N). The Cullens brace themselves, prepared to strike.

And Riki exhales his first breath in two centuries.

Slowly, deliberately.

“No.”

Silence.

Absolute silence. Like the Earth has stopped rotating.

“What?”

Riki doesn’t look at Alec. He doesn’t need to. His focus is elsewhere.

He takes a step forward. Towards Misora. Towards her.

The Cullens shift instantly, poised for defense, but he doesn’t stop.

He’s barely taken another step, when he’s met with white-hot agony.

The force of it is instant, an explosion of suffering detonating inside his skull. He crumbles to his knees before he can stop himself, hands clawing at the cold ground.

A curse tears from his lips.

Jane. He doesn’t have to see her to know. He can feel her amusement, her punishment from here.

“You dare defy an order?” Her voice is sweet. Delighted. “How strange. Have we gotten soft, Mind Stealer?”

Another wave of pain. It burns. He grits his teeth, locks his jaw, and endures.

Through the ringing in his ears, he hears something. Murmuring. The Cullens. Something fast.

Then the pain stops.

It’s not gradual. It doesn’t fade. It just… ceases.

Riki gasps, shuddering. He blinks up at the sky, disoriented, reeling, and realizes he’s standing.

Not collapsed. Not writhing.

Standing.

He turns, dazed, and then he sees it.

The translucent shimmer of a shield encasing him.

Bella Cullen’s eyes are locked on him, jaw set, hands clenched at her sides. And the shield he found his way around 19 years ago is protecting him.

The murmurs behind him are hushed, but Riki hears everything.

“This shouldn’t be possible.” Felix’s voice is low, urgent. “Chelsea’s gift, she’s supposed to bind us. Our loyalty. Our devotion.”

A beat of silence.

Then, Demetri exhales sharply. “She does. But her ties don’t work when opposed by true love.”

True love.

There was a time when he would’ve mocked such things—love, feelings as a whole, even—after spending a century with the Volturi, and forgetting how to feel them, to begin with. He would’ve thought they were a liability.

But Misora is not a liability. She is his sister. And he truly loves her.

The realization settles into him like fire in his veins. Steady. Absolute. And love—true, unbreakable love—frees him.

So he does what would’ve once been unthinkable.

In a flash, he turns faster than any vampire could expect.

His power surges outward, deadly and precise. He seizes two minds at once—Jane and Alec, the Volturi’s twin nightmares, their most precious weapons besides him.

Their limbs jerk violently against their own will. Jane’s eyes widen in shock, and Alec lets out a strangled sound of protest.

Let them scream. He isn’t focusing on their vocal cords, right now.

They reach for one another.

Gasps ring out, but he doesn’t stop to relish in the astonishment. Jane’s shriek is cut short as her own hands grasp Alec’s throat. Alec’s arms move like a puppet’s, seizing her head in turn.

With their own hands, they rip each other’s heads off.

Silence.

Horrified, disbelieving silence.

The twin blades are reduced to nothing but limp, severed bodies.

The Cullens stare. The newborn stares. Misora stares.

Even Felix and Demetri are frozen. The two guards—once his comrades, witnesses of centuries of executions—stagger backward, fear flashing through their crimson eyes.

And then they run.

They don’t fight. They don’t look back.

They flee, blurring into the trees, retreating to Volterra. To Aro, Caius, and Marcus. To report the unthinkable.

Riki doesn’t stop them. His hands are still shaking, but he doesn’t care to.

Because for the first time in centuries—

He is free.

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Ok tbf I really could’ve cut this into two chapters and I do think we have lost the plot slightly BUT DO YOU SEE THE VISION

Comment if you’d like to be tagged on the next one (where the romance starts) :)

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

@angelengene3011 @wrldhypen @opheliaas-stuff

[evesfallen]

Maiden Mother Crone

an agatha all along twine fan game.

summary: your days as agatha harkness’s apprentice seemed like faded memories. at least they did until she showed up at your door. journey down the road alongside agatha’s new ‘coven’ in this interactive choose your own adventure fan game!

word count : 26,647

play the available chapters below!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𖤐 chapter i.

𖤐 chapter ii.

𖤐 chapter iii.

[jasmines-library]

Double Trouble

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WHUMPTOBER DAY ELEVEN: Prompt: Seeing Double

MASTERLIST WHUMPTOBER 2024

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To say you weren’t in the greatest stay would be an understatement. The hunt had been extremely rough and you had been tossed around like a ragdoll until you were beaten and bloody. You were fighting a coven of witches. All brutal and nasty in their own way, and damn near impossible to actually get rid of in one go. You had just managed to dust one of them and you were raising your gun to take a shot at a second one when something collided with your back.

It was cold and cut through you like a knife, gripping at your heart. It hurt, and you cried out, dropping to your knees. One of them had managed to land a spell on you. Clutching at your chest, you had squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the room around you. You could still hear the commotion from the other room where your brothers were occupied with their own bundles of trouble.

The pain seemed to subside after a moment or too; but when you opened your eyes to stand up again, you were met with dizziness and a wave of nausea. Your vision swam and doubled before you, making it impossible to see straight.

You could see Sam approach in the doorway, but to your eyes his figure morphed in and out of two version of himself. When he saw you on the floor he dropped down infront of you, calling for Dean with a shout.

“Hey—“ the non-vision of Sam tapped at your face “what’s going on? Are you alright?”

“….spell…..”

“What? What happened?”

“Can’t see…….two of you….” You mumbled, trying to focus so that the two images would merge into one. But they just wouldn’t.

“Shit.” Sam cursed. Then Dean arrived, his silhouette also split in two. “She’s been cursed! What do we do?!” Sam said desperately.

“Hey. Focus on us, kid. You gotta try and stay focused.” Dean urged you when your mind started to wander. “We need to try and find the witch who hexed you. Can you remember what they looked like? Where they went.?”

Deans words tried to spark some recognition in your mind. But you couldn’t remember seeing the witches face because the attack had come from behind. But as you dwelled on it longer, you began to recall who else was in the room with you at the time. Raising one arm in what you though was the right direction, you pointed them towards the doorway.

Dean was up in a second, dashing though the house to try and kill the witch before they got away to end the curse over you quicker. Meanwhile Dean stayed infront of you, whispering reassuring words and trying to get you to focus.

There was the sound of a gunshot, followed by a scream from somewhere within the house. And then slowly the two figures of Dean merged into one. You blinked, readjusting as the nausea vanished. Sam came skidding back into the room with a hopeful look on his face.

“….you alright?”

You blinked. “Yeah…..thank you.”

Dean helped you up gently, patting you on the back supportively as you re-gained your bearings.

“I hate witches.” You grumbled.

“I can’t blame you” Dean said.

“Yeah. Remind me to never come to one of these again.” You huffed.

“You say that every time.” Dean couldn’t help but smirk. “And yet here you are.

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<- DAY TEN. DAY TWELVE ->

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TAGS:

@hearts4robs @kingshitonly @alicedawitchbish @hell-o-kittys @azure-drag0ness @harleycao @thewhispersofthewaves @batfamsstuff @xxrougefangxx @rosecentury @noisymutantherelol @killxz @rhiodes @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @canthavetoomuchchaos

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