#I think this is objectively too many words about the vampire diaries | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lyon-amore · 8 months ago

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Time Trial Epilogue

Chapter 18

꧁Jake꧂

I look through the DVD collection before passing through the computer area. I was with Katherine to buy some new plates, she left me a moment to go look at a couple of dresses she saw in a store. The truth is, I do not know how she dares to go alone after everything that has happened, although I think she is trying to act strong so I do not worry about her. I had asked her if she wanted me to accompany her, but she had refused.

So, here I am. Watching some DVDs that do not even interest me. Vampire Diaries… What do girls have with vampires?

"I should not be the first to speak..." I say to myself, knowing that I also have my geeky things.

Things that I have had to save for the moment because otherwise Katherine's things would not fit on some shelves. I pick up the first volume and look at it. Love triangles are not my thing, but some girls find it interesting, is this why she see it? I promised Sally—since I do not know her name, I cannot call her anything else—that as payment I would buy her one. I have not spoken to her in weeks, I kept my promise to keep her away from me. But also fulfill that I would give her this for everything she has done for us. I look at the second season pack. Maybe I will buy it for her too because of all the stress I have put her through. I sigh, taking the other one, maybe this can also cheer her up after everything she is been through.

“I'm here,” I turn when I hear Katherine, who smiles at me. “Do you see it? Nothing was going to happen to me.”

“Well, it is assumed that in these cases, it is normal that you do not want to be in a place with so many people,” I remember her, knowing that one day I accompanied her to a session with her psychologist. He warned me that she might have moments when my memories of what happened might come back and she would have an anxiety attack. But every time I see her, she seems to be perfect. Which is strange.

“Jake, I felt safe having my father, it was only the first few days that I had a hard time.” She answers me by taking one of the DVDs, looking at it. "Besides, I had the thought that the deal was going to be made and it was going to save me." I see how she says those words with a cold voice. I am quite surprised, she does not look like the same girl I met on the first day of college. “But of course, that's wrong,” she corrects herself quickly when she sees how I look at her, “besides that since I know that you are with me, I know that nothing is going to happen to me, right? Since you managed to find me, I'm sure you would do it again.”

“Of course,” I respond a little awkwardly. She is really not good, but if I contradict her, it will be worse.

“And that? What is it for?” She asks me, leaving the object again. “I didn't know you liked this series.”

"Oh, it is not for me—"

“And for who it is?” her question seems a little angry.

“I promised Sally I would buy her one as payment for what she did.”

My voice sounds muffled. I feel like I have lost touch with Hannah again. But it is fine that way.

“Jake… If you give her this she’s going to be more confused with you.”

Katherine wraps her arms around me, giving me a kiss on the cheek. Her hug is tight, almost as if she does not want me to get away from her.

"I will not give it to her in person, do not worry," I answer, looking at the DVD again, "not that it was me, but I want to keep my promise, you know? I would feel bad if I did not.”

"You and your promises," she lets out a sigh, separating. "When are you going to promise me something?"

“I already did it to you,” I smile as I begin to walk next to her. “I... I will always be with you, no matter what happens.”

“That's so sweet, Jakie.”

She grabs my arm, resting her head on me. I do not know why, but those words are too early to say, but I have to keep them because of the promise I made to her father. She is going to need me by her side when he is not around.

The next day, I stand in front of the police station. The case is supposed to be closed and ready for a trial date and it should not be here because it's not necessary. I squeeze the bag where I have the two DVDs tightly and enter the police station asking for Agent Connors. They take me to his table and when they announce me, he looks at me over his computer. I can already notice the coldness in his gaze.

“What are you doing here?” he asks me, returning to the computer.

"I did what you told me” I will start going calmly, informing him “I already cut off contact with Sally and even hurt her so she would leave me alone.”

“I know,” his response is dry and quick. “She was crying to her mother all night...”

Alright, I think I know who he is talking about, but I am sure he will be pissed if I say her real name and I would rather her name remain under protection. If someone at the station finds out, it might even put Agent Connors in danger.

"Anything else or do you want me to show you the way out with a kick in the butt, young man?"

Right, I would say that too if I were a father and exactly all of this had happened to my daughter. I place the bag on the table with the two DVDs and he looks at them curiously.

"I always keep my promises," I say seriously, "I promised Sally that I would give her this as payment."

With doubt and quite seriously, he picks up the bag and begins to examine the contents. What did he expect it to bring? He begins to read the synopsis and massages his forehead, releasing a sigh.

“Fantastic,” I hear him say under his breath, “now I will have to endure this every day…”

“Mr. Connors,” I begin to say, “I know what I did was wrong and that I acted out of desperation and because Jeremy told me that she was good at solving doubts with theories.”

"Yes, but she's still young and has a lot to learn, so what?"

"I just want this to cheer her up for everything I have put her through." I point to the objects with my hand. “Maybe with this she will forget about me and do things her age, like... Fantasize about vampires, I do not know.”

He lets out a small laugh. I guess he know her obsession with them better than me.

"I want you to tell her that it is from you." I drawl the words slowly, trying to make what I want to say clear. “, when she is sad or having a bad day, watch the series so she can find a little comfort” I see that he sits better in the chair, paying attention to me. “Look, I have never had a father and my mother died when I was only thirteen, so all I ask of you is that you be with her, because many times she has emphasized in our conversations that you and her mother do not care about her. I do not know why and I do not want to know, but what you should not do is if things get bad, you should push your daughter away as if she were part of the problem. That for someone her age is not a pleasant thing.”

He stares at me without moving a muscle while I keep my gaze fixed, showing him that I am not afraid of him for having told the truth.

"I'll... I'll keep that in mind," he tells me at the end, putting his hands together. "Is it over?"

I open my mouth to want to apologize again for what I have done, but a police officer interrupts me by quickly coming to the table.

“Arnol Fetcher has been stabbed in prison!” Both me and Connors looked at him surprised “They just took him to the hospital!”

“I have to go Jake,” Connors grabs his jacket as he gets up, walking quickly. “How is he?” I hear him ask as he leaves.

I stare at them leaving, without understanding how that was possible. Could Fetcher have provoked it to avoid a trial? But he said he wanted to tell the police about everything behind that web page, to unmask them all for what they had done to his daughter.

"Well, it's a real shame, we lost a great witness," I listen to Chief Schneider and look at him. He has a poker expression, I cannot tell what he meant by that.

“Bianca's documents and Mr. Fetcher's lists,” I say more to myself than to him. “Maybe they can still work with that!”

Schneider shakes his head.

“Unfortunately, last night they broke into my office and stole the pendrive.”

“What—”

“It's true.” Schneider walks over to me and sits at Connors' table, placing his hands in his lap. “I'm very sorry Mr. Miller, but we have nothing because even Fetcher's files have been deleted.”

"You promised you would investigate it," I avoid raising my voice, but it is hard for me. "Why did not you act when you should have?" It is your job! And it was important!”

He lets out a sigh, picking up a frame from the table, looking at it. It is like he is avoiding answering my question. Everything we had was there. I had even deleted it to avoid getting in trouble with them. Now there is nothing left to…

“Bianca's Twitter… You can work with that!” I exclaim excitedly. That account must continue to exist.

“As I said,” he puts the frame back upside down, covering the photo, “there… is… nothing.”

I frown, clenching my hands until they hurt. I feel an alarm ringing too loudly in my head.

“How could someone sneak into your office and steal the pendrive?” I ask seriously “How could someone have deleted Fetcher's files or Bianca's account?”

Schneider stands up from the table, moving closer to me. He places a hand on my shoulder and whispers.

"Take care of your university life, Mr. Miller, we'll take care of our work, will you?"

"There were a lot of important people in those files," I mutter to myself again, "people moving too much money watching innocent people being tortured."

"Or maybe it never existed and everything was planned by a jealous boy and a father with a thirst for revenge, don't you think?"

He pats me on the shoulder, as if he were friendly. I turn around abruptly, trying not to get angry and punch him.

“Have a good day, Mr. Miller!” He shouts as I walk away.

I get on the motorbike and rest my head on the handlebars, trying to calm down. Everything we had found had disappeared, in a single night. But had it really been today? After so much time after having given him the pendrive and spoken during the interrogations? I sit up and place my hands on the handlebars, squeezing hard. There are people who are playing with other people's lives as if they were dolls to be dismembered, they harm them in exchange for large amounts of money. People like that are capable of covering up the shit they do with more money. At the moment I cannot do anything because they are on alert with me, they think I will not speak out of fear. As soon as things calm down, as soon as all this is forgotten, as soon as they have forgotten this case and everything that happened, I plan to hunt down each one of those people and put their names on the table. Whatever it takes.

The next day, upon arriving at the university after an urgent matter at work —Malcolm had found out that I had used an official program, but he covered me up just this once—, there are some students who greet me, most of them from the programming class, to whom I have decided to give a chance and decide to integrate with them also with the help of Albert. Things around here have calmed down a bit and people even feel sorry for us. Then there's Christian, who keeps trying to get information out of us for his class work. Unfortunately, Katherine has seen fit to speak, telling the story that everyone knows: Jealous Jeremy killing Bianca for her secret love for Albert. Arnol Fetcher, a father who adored his daughter, going after those who might hate her. Even his wife. Something I do not understand how people believe it, if she is defending him. But that is the way things are in journalism, some cover the truth with lies so that the truth is not known.

<<Keep your promise to change it, I hope you do in the future.>>

I enter the center, Albert approaches me, greeting me with a smile. What with Jeremy has not sat well with him, he even went to talk to him on a visiting day. He does not know how to feel because he considered him a good friend, but he would have also told the truth, accepted him and even helped him find a boyfriend. We would never have taken him away from us. But what he did cannot be justified and forgiven by giving him a pat on the back. He has to pay for what he did.

“Where were you?” he asks me while I see that he is carrying something in his hand. “I have been waiting for you since the previous class for you to appear.”

“I am sorry, in the end the fight was much longer than I thought,” I reply, adjusting my backpack.

"Well, I hope they at least raise your salary for having done a heroic work." He raises the object in his hand. It looks like clothes? “Here, this is yours” I pick it up and see that it's the sweatshirt I gave to that girl once. “She told me to give it back to you.”

“I told her to keep it,” I answer as I watch her. The scent of fabric softener... Not bad. “Wait, how did she know I study here?”

"I don't know, maybe she's seen me with you at some point and recognized me and was embarrassed to give it back to you," he answers, shrugging his shoulders.

“Guys!” Katherine approaches us, gives Albert a tap on her shoulder and gives me a kiss “I've missed you…”

“Me too,” I smile and she kisses me again.

Sometimes I am embarrassed by how she kisses me in front of everyone, she is more expert than me in having a relationship, I think people might laugh at the way I kiss her. Maybe it is that, I think everyone is looking at us. She makes me uncomfortable. Especially since she seems to do it with the intention of showing everyone that we are dating, when she does not need to do it, it is like she is worried that they are going to take me away from her. It must be because of what happened, that she is afraid that something will happen to her again, she just does not want to tell me.

“Okay, calm down both of you,” Albert rolls his eyes, “it's enough that I have to put up with you every morning and every night.”

“Then find another apartment, Al,” Katherine hangs on my arm, while her tone of voice changes to one of pride.

“But have you heard it? She wants to kick me out of my house!”

I let out a sigh, a little tired of these silly discussions. I know they do it as a joke, but for me it is a bit boring. I go to take off my jacket to put on my sweatshirt, but Katherine takes it off me first.

“Can I put it on?” She asks me with a soft voice “I want to try it.”

“Sure,” I answer and he gives me a kiss on the cheek.

When she goes to put it on, she wrinkles her nose.

"Ugh... I don't like the way it smells... What perfume is it?" She returns it to me upset.

"I like it," I answer, putting on my sweatshirt, "and rather, what a softener it is."

"We'll have to wash it again then."

“But you said before that—” Katherine nudges Albert, as if she wanted to silence him.

I raise an eyebrow asking him what is going on, he just shrugs his shoulders while shaking his head. The truth is that living with her is being hard for us, we thought she was different. But I like her. And we both know she is not right. So I will do everything possible so that everything that happened is forgotten and we have a good future together.

꧁Macie꧂

The night they broke into the house, I managed to escape through the window while I tied a knot with the ribbons of the bathrobes to prevent them from opening the door and tie one to the doorknob and another to the shower, thus preventing it from being able to open. Then, accustomed to sneaking into places, I climbed out the window, being careful not to hurt myself. I don't think I've ever felt so much adrenaline in my life knowing that your life is in danger. Luckily the neighbors were still awake when I told them and they had already called the police when I arrived. They arrested the guy, but I couldn't stop seeing the blood everywhere. Then the adrenaline disappeared and the nausea returned. I could only think about Jareth and if he was okay, because if I had managed to escape, he had to be alive, right? I only had in mind that I had to send him a message and... The worst thing was an hour later, the call from my father.

He had never spoken to me so furiously. I felt like I wasn't even talking to him. I had dissociated from the world when I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn't let me. So, I just focused on shutting up and thinking about Jareth. It was what worried me most at that moment, when he had not answered me.

I had had to return home again, but because of what had happened, they wouldn't let me return to classes at the moment. I didn't even know which high school I was going to return to. My father didn't talk to me and my mother is between angry and afraid for what I have done. She had always hated that I liked investigations. And now, more than ever after having been in danger. Being in my room was the only thing I could do while they talked about what to do with me to get away from the journalists and the police to find out if what had happened, it was also connected to me.

I tried to contact Jareth for three days. I needed to talk to him. I wanted to be able to tell him how I felt, what it was like to see the blood in my room falling from the ceiling. Sometimes even in the palm of my hand. It wasn't Margaret's blood. It’s Alice's blood. My hands were stained with her blood. It was my fault. I look up when I hear the notification sound. I expected it to be Jareth, but is something that actually confuse me. Katherine had asked me for a friend request. I don't know why, but I accept it. I want to know what she wants from me. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Katherine Hello Miss Skellington 😊

Sally Hello I’m glad you’re well

Katherine So you know me

Sally Well Yeah The real question is why do you know me

Katherine I heard that you had helped in my search and in obtaining information I wanted to thank you even though it’s been six days It has been very hard for me and they force me to go to the psychologist even though I feel fine

Sally I doubt it No one comes out of something like a kidnapping well

Katherine My father was with me In the end I felt safe

Sally They were using him, right?

Katherine Yeah But it was a relief to be together He has always taken good care of me 😊

Sally Oh Excellent ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I bite my tongue, avoiding seeming a little envious. I have to remember that she had a bad time, that she was kidnapped. It didn't matter that she had her father, in the end, something terrible had happened to her. And she was hiding it well. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Katherine Hey, how did you do it? Researching and all that I’m curious and would like to know how you did it 😮

Sally I had help…

Katherine Whose? Maybe…. Any special boy? 😁 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I feel my cheeks begin to burn as I think of Jareth. I know they're together and she's cheating on Jake. It's wrong and maybe I should let her know. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sally Yeah He is someone I like a lot but he is an idiot Maybe you know who it is Since he is your boyfriend, right?

Katherine Uh? Oh really? Did you investigate with him?

Sally Yeah Although I was disappointed to know that you and Jareth are playing with feelings with Jake You’re cheating on him! And him betraying a friend!

Katherine Who is Jareth?

Sally He is your lover … Right?

Katherine Oh, oh… I guess you got confused ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I look at Jareth's name in the chat list, disconnected. I try to hold my ground and put on a fake smile, as if I were in front of her, writing. Swallowing my pride. Because all this time I had been a fool. How easy it is to fool someone younger than you, right? ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sally Yes, that’s it He has the image of the king of the goblins, and of course… J and an a and an e… Haha

Katherine The king of the goblins?

Sally Yeah From the movie ‘Labyrinth’ Is popular

Katherine OH! Yeah! I just saw his poster I’m in his room right now I’m spending some time here until everything calms down ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I bite my lip hard until I taste iron. Her attitude is clearly that of one of those mean movie girls. And the worst part is that she was acting like that around someone younger than her, like she saw me as a threat when I don't.

<<Still, no one wants to hear that the boy you like is sharing a room with someone else.>> ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Katherine The truth is that he has very strange things Like Trek Wars stuff

Sally Star Trek and Star Wars?

Katherine Yes, that The room needs a different touch If you could saw it!

Sally I can imagine it…

Katherine Oh! Sorry! I didn’t want to hurt you knowing that you like him

Sally No, it’s okay I’m glad you’re finally together He was very worried about you

Katherine Aw, how cute! ❤️ I guess that’s what I like most about him, that he cares about others That makes him charming

Sally Yes, it does make him charming He’s a great guy

Katherine Yes, it’s easy to fall in love with him, right? Sorry again Well I just hope we’ll be together forever After everything he had done for me and how he had cared, this is the only thing I want And I want to be there for him after he lost his friend

Sally How are he doing?

Katherine He says nothing He doesn’t want to tell me if it’s okay or not

Sally Give him time These things are not easy

Katherine I know… For me sometimes it isn’t either, but I want him to stop wondering if I’m okay

Sally I understand you…

Katherine Hey, about your crush Don’t worry There are many boys your age who are also adorable Surely there will be some Or maybe when you grow up you will find the right guy for you And one day the four of us could go out together, hehe

Sally I have to log off

Katherine Oh sure You probably have high school homework to do

Sally Take care of him for … Shit

Katherine Did you send it by mistake?

Sally Take care both of you ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I log out of the chat before she can say anything to me. I was too embarrassed to see her farewell.

“ 'Take care of him for me'?” I say to myself, putting my hands to my head “Why did I want to say that?”

Because I'm worried. Worried that he hasn't responded to any of my messages. Worried because he didn't want to talk to me. Worried to know how he is. I was being stupid to someone who had been lying on me all this time, he didn't deserve me to worry about him. I take a breath and decide to read our conversations. I was too stupid. But I don't understand why the only thing I didn't notice was the names. Maybe it's because I'm in love. I was thinking that they could be two different people and in the future I could stand in front of him and say 'Hello, do you remember me?' Unfortunately I no longer think that will happen.

I had seen many times what it was like to have a broken heart. Especially when you are the cause for having given too much information that you shouldn't have. I had done it unintentionally both to adults and to people my age. In the end they taught me to keep quiet and not get involved where I'm not called, at least not if they tell me directly. Now I was getting a taste of what it was like to have your heart broken. I never wanted to tell him that I was in love with him to make him uncomfortable. Never. I've always acted as if we were just partners. Friends. His words hurt me, it was as if he had stabbed me with them. I delete my Facebook profile and my forum account, wanting to forget what happened. I want to hate him. I really want to hate him, but...

“Macie?” my mother enters the room and looks at me with pity “Why are you crying?”

“Why are boys so idiots?” I ask him through tears.

She lets out a soft ‘Oh’ and approaches me to hug me. I had never felt so stupid in my life. But I've learned my lesson at least. Now I know why everyone treated me like a child, I still have a lot to learn.

A month has passed. And the worst was not yet to come. A few days ago I had heard my parents talk about sending me to the United States with my grandparents. I felt pain when I heard them. It was all about keeping me away from what was happening. As if the news did not reach outside of Europe. Luckily my mother has been giving me classes while they decide what to do with me. I received messages from some classmates, but I didn't dare to respond. We are in the car, ready to go to the uncles' house for the weekend. The truth is that I'm looking forward to seeing Stephan and being able to vent a little. I pull my sweatshirt up to my nose. I haven't been able to get rid of it. I frown, annoyed. No… It shouldn't be mine. She would have to put it on, be in front of him and ask him 'How does it look on me?'. These thoughts only make me feel worse imagining them. I want to cry.

“Dad, can you make a detour to the university?” I asked, hoping he wouldn't get angry.

“And why do you want to go there?” Hiw words sound sharp.

"I must return something special..."

“I don’t think that—”

“Herman,” my mother hits him on the shoulder. “Sure honey, let's go now.”

I hear my father sigh heavily and I say a small 'thank you'. My legs are shaking. Nervous to see him again.

We stop in front of the building, there are several students entering. I look for him, but I only find Albert and Katherine. He is not.

“Wait for me,” I say while I take off my sweatshirt and fold it, then open the door.

“Macie Connors! You’re not—”

I close the door, letting his words cut off. I must do the right thing. As I approach them, I grab Albert by his jacket, pulling it up. He stops and looks at me confused.

“Yeah?” He looks at me and then at Katherine, who shakes her head.

"I..." I try to speak, but my voice doesn't come out. I take a deep breath and hold out the sweatshirt to him. “I wanted to give this back to your friend.” He takes the garment and I cross my arms, protecting myself. “He lent it to me once a long time ago, I wanted to give it back to him and... Yesterday I saw you around here and I decided to bring it to him.”

“Ah! You're the girl he helped.” Albert smiles at me. A warm smile.

Unlike Katherine, she looks at me strangely. She must surely be thinking why I have a piece of clothing from her boyfriend.

“We know each other?” Katherine examines me, tilting her head.

I looked at my clothes, I had forgotten that I was wearing the only shirt I hadn't been able to get rid of. One of the Tim Burton collection. Will whe know I'm Sally from this? I shake my head.

“No, not really.” I try not to feel uncomfortable. It's as if she were eliminating me with a pair of laser rays, with his gaze.

"Well, I'm sure you'll be glad to have it back." Albert moves the sweatshirt in an animated manner. It was his favorite. His favorite? Did he get rid of his favorite item of clothing?

"It smells good," Katherine stops being in that intimidating state, taking the garment from Albert's hands. “Thank you for washing it, he will appreciate it.”

"Oh, it's not..." I have to tell them, unfortunately “Actually, you have to… Wash it… I had it on a moment ago… It's… Cologne…”

“Oh… Sure,” Katherine’s smile is now forced. “Very good cologne” I nod. Uncomfortable.

I see how Albert looks at us. Tension can cut like a knife. He takes the garment from her hands and smiles at me to calm me down.

"I'll give it back to him." I think he noticed that I was uncomfortable. “Thank you, little.”

"Oh, no—" I see that he didn't mean it meanly, but as a kind of nickname. Not like it was flirting either. “Thank you.”

“We better get in,” Katherine steps forward, taking long strides. I think she got angry and… Part of me wants to feel good about pissing her off.

“Goodbye,” Albert walks away, waving his sweatshirt as he says goodbye and then I see that as he walks he puts it in his backpack.

I try to calm down, but I go almost at a steady pace to the car. Wanting to hide from all the college kids.

When I enter, I start to cry a little. Done. It's already yours. He already has it all, so why does it still hurt? I want it to stop.

“I have…” I look up when my father speaks. I dry my eyes, watching him open the glove compartment. “I have something I bought for you.”

He hands me a bag and seeing the contents makes my heart race. They could be simple DVDs, but THEY WERE the DVDs of my favorite series. I wasn't understanding anything.

“And this?” I ask between sobs and a smile.

"Well, I've been thinking that maybe I've been too hard on you—"

“Even though it was for your own good,” my mother cuts him off, giving him a furtive look. Of course, getting into trouble like the one I got into was wrong, I was never going to forget it.

"So I thought about giving you this gift and... Whenever you see that you need to cheer yourself up a little, then you'll see an episode of the series." He points to the DVDs with his hand, after having turned a little in his seat.

“You hate that I keep talking about this series,” I reply while rolling my eyes.

"But if it makes you happy, what difference does it make?" He shrugs his shoulders, letting out a weak laugh.

I get up a little from my seat and hug him.

“I don't know if this seems like a good idea,” my mother shakes her head, “in that series there is… Well…”

“Blood, mom,” I answer, releasing a sigh. “But at least, nothing here is real, it's all pure fiction. What doesn't hurt...”

I think it's the only way I can tolerate blood. Fiction. Because I know that no one has been hurt. Because I know they are fine.

"I also thought that we could go to eat before going to your cousins' house," he begins to start the car again. “You choose, what do you want?”

I'm left thinking. It's like going back to those times and that was a couple of months ago. I felt that things could go back to their place. I try to think, what do I want most? Something I haven't eaten in a long time? My mouth is watering just thinking about food. And more in this one. Yes. Things were going to change starting today.

“How about a Chinese?”

#duskwood #duskwood jake #duskwood mc #duskwood everbyte #duskwood game #everbyte game #everbyte studio #duskwood fanfic #fanfic

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addie-mystery-transcripts · 9 days ago

Text

Addie Mysteries Episode 311: Kate Reed Disappearance Part 1

-intro-

Addie Merchant: Hello, and welcome to Addie Mysteries. I’m Addie Merchant.

Tabitha Wilder: And I’m Tabby Wilder. How are we doing today Addie?

-I removed the 30-minute cold open because they only talked about Real Housewives of Beverly Hills-

-musical tone indicating the end of an ad break for BetterHelp-

Addie: On January 8th, 2000, Kate Reed disappeared from her home in the borough of Tower Hamlets in London, England. Kate isn’t someone who’s unknown to our listening audience.

She’s been an accomplished journalist for well over a hundred years.

Tabitha: Vamprisim, it does wonders for the career, doesn’t it? Have you ever thought about taking a dip and going full viper, Addie?

-Addie laughs-

Addie: Never. I fucked around with Drac when I was coming up in the Orange County scene, there’s no way I’d go all in and turn. Gave myself third-degree burns after trying to walk around in the sun afterward.

Tabitha: You’re right, sorry I completely derailed us.

Addie: Don’t fret, anyways. Kate Reed was born in Ireland to an Irish Republican father, no doubt her more left-leaning views came from him.

-Tabitha makes a snort laugh-

Tabitha: Only good republican, huh?

Addie: Growing up though, she was childhood friends with a lot of well-to-do English ladies. (she puts on a fake cockney accent, indicated by italics) A real proper high society lot. Many you’ve heard of if you’ve read Stoker’s Dracula. Wilhelmina Murray and Lucy Westenra. But the word is she was close with Penelope Churchwood.

Tabitha: Gross.

Addie: You just hate to see a social climber win.

Tabitha: I hate to see someone who pals around with dictators win. But continue dear.

-Addie laughs-

Addie: Anyways, Reed was heavily involved with the whole affair surrounding the Van Helsing group right before Dracula’s rise to power. However many portions of Stoker’s book misattributed letters and diary entries to Westenra or Murray. Granted, this is a piece of wishful alternate history text half written by a man in a concentration camp, so I think we can forgive him for making a few boo-boos. Then everyone knows the story, things go tits up for the Van Helsing group, Lucy Westenra dies at their hands, and Dracula escapes to seize the throne of England. A few years down the line, Reed gets bitten by her boss at a newspaper and she turns a vampire too. Now she’s missing. Missing and presumed destroyed.

-Five-minute Squarespace advertisement where Tabitha pretends to not know how websites work-

Tabitha: Kate Reed also embodied this idea of “The New Woman”. She was cool, she was a woman who embodied the idea of independence in the Victorian era. She was a bicyclist, she had multiple partners and she was driven by appetites not just for blood and sex, but also the capital T truth. I’ve also been doing my research into Reed via her diaries. I want to connect how she thought and behaved to make a bigger point about her. In this episode, I’ll focus on Abjection, and in the next, we’ll cover The New Woman in depth.

Addie: You. You’ll cover it. I tried to veto this listener, but I was overwhelmed.

Tabitha: I want you to humor me for a second. Just like give me five minutes of your time. I think that Reed was a constant victim of her vampirism mixing with her catholic guilt and it resulted in abjection of herself.

Addie: What the fuck are you talking about?

Tabitha: You don’t believe me? Let’s look at her diary entry about how she felt during the Crimson Executioner investigation.

-There is a sound of paper rustling as Tabitha brings up her notes-

Tabitha: “Had I flown off to heaven or elsewhere, leaving behind a shell that could deceive itself into pretending to live out my life?”¹ This is exactly what Kristeva was talking about. She made herself an object that can be flatly rejected. She has rejected herself and rendered what she thinks of as remaining here on earth as something disgusting.

Addie: Catholic guilt feels like a bit of a stretch here. We’re getting ahead of us by talking about Italy, we haven’t even left her time in London or hell we haven’t even gotten to World War I. I had planned for Italy to be the primary focus of part two, but you’ve completely bungled it.

-Addie Makes a hiss sound-

-Outro Music + Patreon shoutouts read by Addie-

#podcast transcript #Kate Reed #Addie Mysteries #Vampires #Journalism #Julia Kristeva

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procrastinatorimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Our Little Secret Part 12

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries / The Originals

Series: Our Little Secret

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 //

Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Part 11 // Part 12 // Part 13 // Part 14 // Part 15 (Final)

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Warning/s: none

Word Count: 1,376

Summary: Y/N Gilbert tried to put Mystic Falls - it’s problems, and her whirlwind romance with Klaus Mikaelson - behind her after she graduated, but all it takes is one unusual phone call to bring her right back to where she started and into the path of her first love as she races to solve the mystery threatening the lives of everyone in her home town.

Tags: @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce // @april-14-blog // @akshi8278 // @keiko0 // @mylovehes // @your-new-mom // @mikaelson-emma

“I haven’t been back here since graduation,” you voiced, needing to fill the void with something as you made your way through the school, conversation being the best way you could think of to keep everyone awake and alert.

“I remember,” Klaus replied, glancing back at you with careful eyes, checking to make sure you were okay. He seemed to hesitate before speaking again, seeming unsure whether he even should. “I tried to find you, after everything went down, I- you know what, it doesn’t matter now.” He shook his head.

You felt oddly heavy but you forced yourself to remain upright, trying not to think about the weight of the weapon in your hands as you mulled over what Klaus had said, and what he hadn’t. Why had he been trying find you?

“Guess we’re not going to be sneaking up to the roof tonight,” you joked, earning a slight smile. It had always been your secret rendezvous with Klaus, a place where you could just be together, looking out at the stars and the town everythinng else always felt so far away. You’d been untouchable in those moments.

“Simpler times,” he said with a touch of nostalgia, mind no doubt going where yours had. You felt a bit of a pang then, your happier memories replaced by those that followed your sister and friends finding out about your little secret.

“There was nothing simple about it,” you reminded him, remembering your glorious dance at the ball, your nights in a cell, and your goodbyes.

He was solemn and silent for a moment. “I owe you for doing this,” he said honestly.

“You don’t owe me anything,” you reminded him. He hadn’t been the one to ask you to come back here, and even if he had, no one forced you. For all your talk about leaving Mystic Falls behind, you’d do anything to protect the people in this town.

“I do though - I’ve put you in an impossible position, yet again,” he sighed.

“Don’t, I knew what I was getting into then and I know what I’m getting into now,” you insisted, hand going out to his arm as you locked eyes. Unstoppable force meeting immovable object - you were both stubborn as hell, so he knew he wasn’t going to convince you otherwise.

Instead he just nodded, resigning a little but still not entirely accepting your answer, ever needing to shoulder the burden.

“I left so I wouldn’t die here, seems the universe has a cruel sense of humour, because right now there’s no where else I’d rather be,” you said quieter, the thought playing in your head since you’d arrived. Everything you’d done to escape this place, make some kind of normal life, and here you were, sneaking through your old high school wielding a crossbow.

“You won’t,” Klaus told you earnestly, pausing to check the coast was clear as you neared the hall.

“None of us will,” Ric said from behind you, matching Klaus’ tone as he willed himself to power through, the tiredness in his eyes impossible to hide as you got closer to the centre of... whatever this was.

A noise in a nearby classroom had you all on edge, your reaction time definitely slower than it should have been as you prepared to face whatever was behind the door.

Klaus and Ric shared a look, some kind of silent communication going on between then as the students cast nervous glances at one another. Ric took a step towards the door, counting down to Klaus, who pulled the door open on three, ready to attack.

“Dad!” A voice gasped, all of you equal parts shocked and relieved as you found yourselves face to face with Hope Mikaelson.

“Hope,” Klaus exhaled, pulling his daughter into a tight embrace as you lowered your weapons.

Klaus’ eyes were gleaming as he took a step back, checking his daughter over to make sure she was alright before she went to greet the others, who were all equally happy to see her alive and well.

Well, maybe not equally.

You could see the protective way Klaus tensed when Hope hugged Landon, their touch lingering a little too long for his liking as he cleared his throat, Landon jumping back to a respectable distance as Hope rolled her eyes.

She fixed her attention on you. “So, you must be Y/N,” she said. You had no idea what she knew about you, at all, but she didn’t say it with any malice, just... curiosity.

“Yeah, I got your call,” you told her with a faint smile, taking her in for the first time. She was a Mikaelson alright, you could see that straight away.

“Sorry,” she told you, genuinely apologetic, “but so many people were already asleep and aunt Freya said New Orleans was affected too-”

You cut her off, realising she should probably take a breath. “It’s fine Hope, I’m happy to help,” you promised, meaning every word as you look to Klaus for a moment. Even before you’d known the whole town was affected, she was still Klaus’ daughter and he was still... Klaus.

“You just left, you shouldn’t have just left, what were you thinking?” There was a chorus from Klaus and Ric, though you weren’t sure who said what as they reprimanded her for leaving the school grounds. You offered her a look of sympathy, but it wasn’t your place, they were also kind of right.

“I had to find out what we were up against, I had to find a way to stop it,” Hope insisted, carrying that weight of the world burden on her shoulders that reminded you of your twin.

“Did you?” M.G. asked, nervously glancing around. It was safe for now, but staying here for too long wasn’t wise; and you figured he’d seen enough movies to know that.

“Dozens of them came out of the Malivore pit, vampires but... energy draining, they can go out in the daylight too, I think it just drains them more,” Hope told you what she knew which, unfortunately, was pretty similar to what you’d already figured out.

“I can’t be the only one thinking this but they don’t seem... capable?” You tried to articulate, your brain way too cloudy to think straight, but they seemed to understand what you meant. Those vampires had been feral, to magically put a whole town to sleep... “How are they doing this?”

“There’s a powerful witch directing them, or controlling them, I’m not sure,” Hope explained, earning wide eyes from your group. Now this part, you absolutely had not known. Hope continued hurriedly: “She came out of the pit too, she- I think she created them, experimenting on normal vampires and turning them into these... things, and got put into Malivore for it.”

You still weren’t entirely versed on the ins and outs of this Malivore thing they’d been dealing with, but none of that was good news.

“Who? Why?” Josie asked what you were all wanting to know, “and to target New Orleans too...” Something popped into your head, a theory, maybe, a connection made somewhere in your mind, but it slipped away as a wave of dizziness washed over you.

The others didn’t notice, thankfully, but it was only a matter of time before you lost the battle to remain conscious.

“I don’t know, but whoever they are, they’re here at the school,” Hope confirmed, “I’ve been trying to get to the hall, I hid in here to try and come up with another game plan, but there’s just so many of them.” A cry echoed down the halls as if on cue, bouncing off the walls as an icy shiver went down your spine.

“You’re not alone now, we’re here,” Landon reassured her, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. He kept hold, but Klaus allowed it, realising that there would be time later to thoroughly scare the young man and demand to know his intentions for his daughter.

It was an amusing thought, and it was encouraging to know you still thought there’d be a later.

“We’ll do this together,” Klaus said, looking at Hope but addressing the group as you all readied yourself.

“What are we waiting for?”

#klaus mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #legacies #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson imagine #the originals imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #legacies imagine #klaus mikaelson imagines #the originals imagines #the vampire diaries imagines #legacies imagines #our little secret

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wingsofkpop · 4 years ago

Text

Hiraeth - I.IV: Danced of the Damned

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatual!AU, Dark Magic!AU, heavy Angst, slight Fluff, eventual Smut

warning(s): Mature language, mentions of death, hints of traumatic experiences, blood, etc.

word count: 5k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

You don’t know exactly what you were expecting to find in the archives of the Town Hall. Maybe a couple old files holding the ancestral information of Moon Dye or a couple ancient photographs where the faces are too blurred and rotted to recognize. Even the finding of a mere rusted pocket watch would have crossed your mind—not a thick registry stuffed full of unthinkable truths.

In your defense, you just happened to stumble upon the records in the dank, dusty basement where the town’s archives stay. It was hidden in a secret compartment behind chalky boxes of cold cases that were forgotten a long, long time ago—how else were you to satiate your curiosity? Inside the mess of cobwebs and dust, there sat the information that would both make and break your sanity.

And maybe if Jaebeom hadn’t approached you in that alleyway and confirmed your suspicions… your mind would have been able to come up with some sort of rationalization.

“Look, I wanted to tell you so many times…” You can’t bring yourself to meet Mark’s gaze, finding more interest in swirling the contents of your untouched tea. Through the corner of your eye, however, you can see your companion feverishly shaking his head, “But knowing about me would put you in danger, (Y/N)... I couldn’t do that to you.”

“That wasn’t your choice to make, Mark.”

“I know that, but—fucking hell.” Mark buries his face in his palms, still rocking back and forth, “It shouldn’t be like this… God, I never wanted this—”

“And you think I did?” You hiss, uncaring about the pure venom in your tone. “How the fuck am I supposed to process all of this? That vampires and werewolves and witches and probably goddamn pixies exist? That my best friend has magical powers and talks to the dead?”

“I don’t—” Mark timidly shrugs, “talk to the dead…”

“Well, at least there’s that much.” A heavy sigh passes from your lips, expelling barely any tension from your aching chest. You toy with the handle of your teacup before finally gathering the willpower to meet Mark’s eyes. His irises are wild and filled with all kinds of emotion, you immediately notice. Probably a mere reflection of your own.

As much as you want to stay angry at your best friend—you physically can’t. No matter how many times your head and your heart go back and forth. Mark lied to you. Mark has been lying to you all this time. But something inside of you won’t let your eyes see past the genuine remorse and hurt written along his face.

He’s still your best friend.

Mark sighs, “What do you want me to do, (Y/N)?...”

“I want you to tell me the truth—the whole truth.”

“I can’t do that,—”

“I at least deserve that much, don’t you think?” Mark withers beneath your murmur, dragging a hand down his face with a frustrated breath. After another moment of silence that seems to stretch on for hours, Mark grabs a nearby bottle of bourbon, pours himself a glass and finally nods.

“If I tell you everything, there’s no going back… Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

“Not really, but I don’t have that choice anymore.” You hum. “I need to know.”

Mark nods again. “Where do you want me to start?”

“At the very beginning.”

The way Mark throws back the alcohol sparks uneasiness in your gut, but not as much as the gloomy darkness that overtakes his gruff tone.

“The main story begins with the first ever vampires that came into existence, known as the Prime Two…” Mark moves to pour himself another drink, but changes his mind and ends up drinking straight from the bottle. You wonder whether you should ask for a sip as well.

“But you know them already… as Im Jaebeom and Park Jinyoung.”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Youngjae releases a content breath as he steps into the warmth of the bookstore, effectively escaping the post-rain chill of the outside. He shakes the remaining coolness from his hands before heading toward the front counter, where Bambam is stationed flipping through a high-end fashion magazine. Youngjae fights the urge to roll his eyes.

“Bam?”

Bambam looks up at Youngjae’s voice. “Hey, man. What’s going on?”

“I need your help.” Youngjae surveys the area of the store, checking down aisles and around corners for any signs of life. The racing of his heart somewhat slows at the lack of other customers, allowing him to turn back to the cashier and continue, “The coven is in danger. Nayeon-noona is dead.”

“I heard about that. I’m so sorry, hyung.” Bambam nods his head, “What can I do?”

“Are you able to see an account of everyone who steps foot in this town? Visitors included?”

“Yeah, I know some guys who can get whatever information you need. You feel like taking a trip up to the police station?”

Youngjae hums in response, waiting patiently for Bambam to lock up the register. He watches the younger throw on his coat before meeting him behind the counter. With Bambam in tow, Youngjae leaves the comfort of the shop. After Bambam locks the door, the two continue through the cold in the direction of the police station. Youngjae again checks his surroundings, feeling more than just the chill of the air.

“Did you… find what killed her?”

“What?”

Bambam repeats again a little louder. “Nayeon. Do you know what killed her?”

“A hunter and another witch.” Youngjae explains, “We have records of them murdering countless covens before coming to Moon Dye.”

“I may not know everything about this supernatural stuff, but don’t hunters hunt vampires...?”

“We’re not sure why either of them are specifically targeting witches.” Youngjae shudders, pulling his coat tighter around his shoulders. “I just hope we can find them before…”

“Hey.” Bambam halts Youngjae’s pace with a hand on his arm. “We’re gonna find these douchebags and make sure they don’t hurt anyone else.”

Youngjae weakly smiles. “Thanks, Bam.”

“C’mon. I’m freezing my ass off.” Youngjae follows Bambam’s wishes and continues down the street, feeling less and less paranoid knowing the younger is by his side. Instead, Youngjae’s mind thinks back to your sudden entrance only mere minutes ago.

Youngjae wanted to stay at the mausoleum and help Mark deescalate the situation, but the older insisted that he continue the search. He can’t help but remember the betrayal across your features—the way you looked at him and Mark as if they were aliens.

“Why did you give (Y/N) Mayor Bhuwakul’s old diary?” The question escapes Youngjae’s lips before he can stop himself. His inquiry visibly takes Bambam off guard, manifesting in the form of confusion along his features, before shifting to realization.

“Because she deserves to know.”

“But what about Mark-hyung? You know what this will do to him, right? To him and (Y/N)?”

Bambam shakes his head. “I know Mark cares about (Y/N), and (Y/N) cares about Mark.” He peers at Youngjae through the corner of his eye and shrugs, “That’s not gonna change just because she knows the truth, hyung. I doubt that will ever change.”

Youngjae doesn’t respond, keeping his eyes trained on the moving pavements at his feet. He knows Bambam is right, and knows both Mark and (Y/N), but something in his gut doesn’t feel right—like a sense that something is coming.

Something bad… Something really, really bad.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“So you’re telling me that not only are there vampires almost a thousand years old running around without a care in the world, but you’re also the leader of the town witch coven who protects Moon Dye from supernatural threats?” Mark nods at your recount, holding back a smile at the cute furrow in your eyebrows. “You realize how absolutely unreal that sounds? Right?”

“You said you wanted the truth.”

“I’m only slightly regretting that decision now.” You sigh, smoothing a hand over your scalp. Mark notices a stray hair fall across your forehead at your movement. He’s not sure whether it’s the light buzz radiating throughout his veins or the way your eyes seem to glitter in the sunlight, but his mind has to warn his hands to remain glued to the table. Still, Mark can’t help but feel disappointed as you brush the strand away.

You shrug your shoulders, “How… How do you do it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like…” Mark carefully watches your expression, noticing the slight tremor in your tone as you trail on. “How do you… do magic…?”

“Well, there’s a bunch of ways.” He explains, “Spells. Potions. Channeling objects. Control of the elements. Some witches can even see events from the past, present or future.”

“So you don’t wave around wands and ride on broomsticks?”

The first genuine laugh leaves Mark’s lips for the first time tonight. “No. Though Youngjae did try to enchant his car to fly one time.”

“Where does it come from? The magic?”

“It’s dependent on the witch, and the type of craft they practice.”

Not desiring to scare you off, Mark chooses to show a more modest example. He focuses his attention onto your cup, still full of now cold tea, and murmurs a quick incantation beneath his breath. Your entire body flinches as the glass lifts at least six inches off the table, enough to hover at the level of your eyes. After a couple seconds, Mark lowers the cup back into its original place. When he meets your gaze, he expects to see fear embedded beneath your irises, but it’s the opposite:

You seem fascinated.

“I usually practice Traditional Magic, so I use the Earth and other natural elements to amplify my magic.” Mark says, “Most witches are born with their own powers, but that’s not always the case.

“Youngjae—take him as an example—is a Siphoner. In order to generate magic, he has to absorb it from other things, be it objects or people.”

“So he… siphons magic?”

Mark smiles. “Exactly. You’re catching on pretty quick.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” You shake your head, curiously peering down at the stationary teacup before returning your attention back to Mark. “When I read through that book in the archives, I saw something about Lycanthropes… Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Werewolves.” He states matter of factly.

“They exist too then?”

“You remember Kim Yugyeom? Bambam’s best friend?”

You nod.

Mark nods too. “He’s the second in command of Moon Dye’s pack. I don’t think you’ve met the new Alpha, Bang Chan.”

“I’ve heard the name from some of my kids.” Mark can practically feel the exhaustion from your sigh. He debates the idea of reaching across the table to take your hand in his—the loneliness of your fingers spurring him on even more. Before Mark can make up his mind, you’re already withdrawing your limbs and hiding them in the comforts of your lap.

“I just—I’m just having a hard time processing all of this.”

Mark shakes his head, “It’s a lot to take in, (Y/N).”

“I know, but—” You pause to lift your head, furrowing your eyebrows in his direction with the beginnings of a scowl overtaking your lips. “I’m still pissed that you kept this whole other world a secret from me. I mean, for fucksakes, Mark, you’re my best friend.”

“I’m—I was protecting you. Knowing this stuff exists doesn’t come without consequence, (Y/N).”

“Stop saying that, oh my god—” Mark waits as you bury your face in your palms, deeply breathing through the divots of your laced fingers. After maybe a minute of silence, you raise your head and murmur, “What is it about me knowing that puts me in danger? I was nearly killed by that vampire without knowing shit.”

A wince overtakes Mark’s features. “It’s complicated…”

“I’m so sick of everyone using that excuse.” You hiss, “You don’t keep something like this from me, especially the fact that you’re—”

“Do you know how Nayeon died?” Mark can see how his sudden question takes you off guard by the widening of your eyes and pursing of your lips. You take a few moments to collect yourself, right your expression, before answering:

“She was… killed by an animal.”

Mark shakes his head again. “No. Nayeon was murdered by a supernatural vampire hunter and another witch.”

You blink. “B-But… was she a—?”

“She was a witch—an innocent witch that never provoked, nor hurt anyone.” Mark leans forward until the edge of the table presses harshly against his ribs. The uncomfort does little to garner his attention—too focused on speaking to you with his desperate eyes. “This world—my world is dark, (Y/N). The creatures in my world are even darker, including me.”

He pretends not to catch the brief wave of unease that washes over your face.

“Right now, there are two fucking crazies in town out to kill me and my people.” Mark gulps at the stone long formed at the back of his throat. “If I lose anyone else, I—” Unable to finish his sentence, Mark shifts his focus. “I just need you to understand, (Y/N). Please.”

“Mark—” Tremors shoot through his veins as your fingers latch around his wrist—the warmth of your touch sobering the last remnants of his mind. He has to hold back tears at the pure sympathy that resonates from your bright irises. “I understand, okay?”

He nods, not trusting the quality of his voice.

You softly squeeze his arm. “No more secrets though… Promise me.”

“(Y/N)—”

“Promise me.”

Mark knows he shouldn’t, but the way you’re looking at him—so calm, yet so determined—the way you always look at him… He can’t do anything but give in.

“I promise.” He murmurs, placing a hand over your own with a weak smile. “No more secrets.”

You nod approvingly, offering up a smile of your own. Your lips part again, as if to ask another question, when a knock sounds from the door. Mark almost verbally protests when you pull away, but holds back his annoyance to answer the unexpected visitor with a silent sigh. However, he can’t hold back his scowl at the sight of Jinyoung on his doorstep.

“Mark. It’s good to see you.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I apologize for my sudden visit, but I needed to talk to you about—” Jinyoung’s voice trails off, which Mark quickly realizes is because of your known presence. He watches, with narrowed eyes, as you and Jinyoung exchange an array of glances before he turns back to Mark.

He shakes his head. “I didn’t realize you had company. I’ll come back—”

“She knows.” An uneasy feeling erupts in Mark’s gut at the weak expression that crosses over Jinyoung’s face. He doesn’t like how Jinyoung looks at you again, nor the blank stare you offer the vampire in response.

Jinyoung nods. “I see…”

“What did you—?” Mark’s phone rings before he can finish his question, temporarily relieving him from the atmosphere of awkwardness and irritation. He steps aside to allow Jinyoung the space to enter while pulling his phone from his pocket. His eyes remain fixated on the interaction between both you and Jinyoung as he answers the call, lifting the device up to his ear.

“Please tell me you and Bam found something.”

“It’s not much, but we at least found a lead.” Mark breathes a sigh of relief at Youngjae’s answer. As to include both you and Jinyoung into the conversation, he turns Youngjae on speaker phone, avoiding the curious glint in your gaze.

“There’s no record in the police database of any suspicious visitors entering town within the last few months, so we’re sure they probably got into Moon Dye undetected, or at least not on city file.”

“How does that help us?”

“You need to let me finish, hyung.” Mark can practically hear Youngjae roll his eyes over the line. “We may not have records, but some of Bam’s friends were able to look into the cameras stationed around the border of the road that leads into town. They caught footage of a bus dropping off two young women, who were then picked up by a 2018 BMW M6. We tried to track the license plate number, but the registration is private.”

Jinyoung murmurs with a nod, “So someone who lives here in town brought them in. It’s possible we may be dealing with more than just a hunter and a witch.”

“I don’t think so.” Youngjae disagrees, “The tracking spell would have picked up on every accomplice involved in Nayeon-noona’s murder.”

Mark feels sick at the slight grimace that pulls across your features. He knows you're playing strong by the way you quickly mask your discomfort.

“Anyway, we were only able to track the vehicle as far as Poison Square. But we do have the faces of the two young women that got off of the bus.”

“That’s something then.” Mark sighs, sharing a wary glance with Jinyoung. “What do they look like?”

“Both are probably somewhere in their early- to mid-twenties, have dyed blonde hair and are relatively around the same height.”

Jinyoung shakes his head. “That could be anyone. Can you be more specific?”

“The one woman has three distinguishing beauty marks: One on the bridge of her nose, another above her upper lips, and a third near the corner of her mouth.”

“Shouldn’t the hunter have something on them? Like a mark?”

“We wouldn’t be able to see the hunter’s mark.” Jinyoung shuts down Mark’s inquiry with a frown, “It’s only visible to other hun—”

“This mark… Is it a tattoo, by any chance?...” Mark nearly flinches at your sudden question—Jinyoung almost doing the same. The latter resurrects from the surprise before releasing a hesitant answer:

“Well, I’ve never seen it myself, but… yes.”

“Oh my fucking god…” The pure shock that overtakes your face sends warning bells chiming through Mark’s mind. He sets the phone on the table before dropping to his knees in front of your sitting form, immediately noticing the trembling of your hands. Worst case scenarios play through his thoughts like creepy puppet shows, but he pushes them away to focus on you.

“What is it?”

When you meet his gaze, your eyes are wild with a blend of shock and fright. Mark feels even sicker than before, and not because of the alcohol.

You gulp. Not once. But twice.

“I… I know who Nayeon’s killers are.”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“Please, just let me go…” Jihyo sobs, hot tears beginning to spill down her burning cheeks. The rope around her wrists chafes uncomfortably at her skin, eating away at what little dignity remains in her heart. “I really don’t understand what you want from me…”

Momo releases a huff—the sight and sound mirroring a dragon blowing smoke through his nostrils. Jihyo watches through terrified eyes as Momo paces across the living room floor, feverishly shaking her head and mumbling incoherencies underneath her breath. The fear continues to grow when Momo stomps to where Jihyo is frozen stiff on the sofa.

“How many fucking times do I have to repeat myself?” Momo growls, shoving her tattooed arm in Jihyo’s face. “You see this mark, then you’re a hunter. It’s not rocket science.”

Jihyo weakly shakes her head. “You’re sick, Momo… Th-This whole thing about vampires and witches and hunters doesn’t exist…”

It’s a lie—Jihyo knows in her heart that a part of her, a very stupid part of her, believes every little detail that has left Momo’s lips. Some of it makes too much sense not to be true: The sudden animal attacks. The mysterious disappearances. The unexplained instances she’s had ever since she moved to Moon Dye Bay.

“I told you that—”

Momo’s voice cuts out at the sound of a slamming door. For a moment, hope swirls through Jihyo’s gut, thinking that either Sana or (Y/N) must have come to her rescue, but the burst vanishes at the sight of Mina stepping into view—Jihyo’s fear instead skyrockets.

Momo said she’s a witch.

“What is going on here?” Mina demands, her tone stern and expression cold. Momo only smiles in response.

“Sister!” She skips over to the newcomer, delicately taking Mina’s hands into her own. The act actually surprises Jihyo, not expecting the supposed, rather sadistic hunter to be capable of such affection. “Jihyo can see my mark! She’s a hunter just like me, sister!”

Mina immediately tears her hands away, glaring at her sister with such bewilderment and venom. “Are you out of your damn mind!?”

“Wh-What do you mean?”

“Jihyo cannot be involved in any of this!” Goosebumps rise over Jihyo’s skin at the hidden darkness beneath Mina’s words. Her eyes glance toward the hallway, wondering the success rate of being able to reach the front door without alerting either sister. “Do you not remember what happened last time you tried to train another hunter?”

“Things will be different this time. I am stronger now—we are stronger.” “You don’t know that for sure.”

“Think of how easy it will be to take out the rest of Tuan’s coven with another hunter on our side, sister.” Momo persists, striking more panic through Jihyo’s already stocked body. Against her better judgement, Jihyo tries to escape her rope bindings… and unsurprisingly, fails.

Mina shakes her head furiously. “Tuan and his witches have sided with one of The Prime brothers. We can’t risk killing another member without putting our own lives in danger—”

“All the more reason to take on another hunter.” Jihyo shrinks in on herself as Momo grabs Mina’s hand and leads her to her prisoner on the couch. “Please, sister. Think about what those witches did to us—about mother and father.”

Silence, save for the hum of rushing blood in Jihyo’s ears, hangs in the air, thick like a pool of humid fog. Like Momo, Jihyo carefully watches Mina’s expression, searching for any features that may determine the underlyings of her fate.

“So many lives we’ve already taken for mother and father.” Mina pulls her hand free from Momo’s and shakes her head. The rope seems to dig harder into her wrists—as does the terror in her chest when Mina murmurs her next words:

“When will it ever be enough for you, sister?…” Jihyo’s gaze remains transfixed on Mina as she makes her way back through the kitchen, pausing to offer the bound woman an apologetic glance. “I’m so sorry you were brought into this… but I’m even more sorry that you’ll have to die because of it…”

Whatever remaining hope inside Jihyo snaps as Mina throws her one last pitiful smile before rushing out the apartment—leaving Jihyo to the mercy of her deranged sister.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Jinyoung closely watches how your fingers seem to cling to Mark’s hands as you think over your words, almost as if his mere touch is enough to keep your mind grounded. And though he’d never admit it aloud… Jinyoung feels envy that Mark is the one who’s comforting you.

“Mina and Momo are friends of Sana from when they were in high school.” You explain, peering between both Mark and Jinyoung’s curious expressions. Though Jinyoung notices how your gaze seems to avoid his seeking eyes. “I don’t know anything about them beside the fact they’re foster sisters, and they had a pretty shitty time in the system.”

“Then how are you so sure it’s them?” Youngjae inquires, still over the phone. “And how did you know about the hunter’s mark?”

You pause, and based on your expression, Jinyoung would guess you’re almost reluctant to answer his questions. He moves to soothe your uneasiness, but Mark beats him to it:

“We have to know, (Y/N)... It’s important.”

Jinyoung’s jealousy expands at the intimate glance you and Mark share.

After another moment of quiet and a heavy sigh, you finally speak, “The other day, I heard Jihyo comment on a tattoo that Momo had—but there was no tattoo. Neither Sana nor I saw one, so I just thought Jihyo was imagining things until…”

“Until now.” Jinyoung finishes. He inhales an unsteady gust of air, carding his fingers through his styled hair, and shakes his head with a solemn expression, “(Y/N)... For Jihyo to be able to see Momo’s hunter mark would mean she’s a—”

“We have to warn the others.” Mark interrupts Jinyoung, suddenly rising to his feet. “Youngjae, give a call to Lia, Jisung and Minho and tell them to get their asses over here as soon as possible.”

“Already done, hyung. I couldn’t reach Minho, but I left several voicemails and dozens of texts.”

“I’ll start on that linking spell we talked about. This ends tonight.” Mark lifts his phone from the tabletop, readying his thumb to tap the end call button. “Get here safe, okay?”

Youngjae hums. “Fifteen minutes. Maybe ten.”

“See you soon, Youngjae.” No sooner had Mark ended the call does your voice sound:

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? ‘This ends tonight’?”

Mark shakes his head. “(Y/N)—”

“No. I want to know what that means.” You abruptly rise, sending your chair sliding across the wood floor with a shriek. Jinyoung waits for Mark to come up with an answer, secretly enjoying the obvious discomfort amongst his features, before answering himself after maybe a minute of radio silence:

Jinyoung places a hand on your shoulder. “It means we do what we have to do to keep everyone safe. Including you and the town.”

“But you won’t… kill them? Right? I mean, there’s-there’s other ways that don’t have to end with anyone dead, right…?”

“I don’t know.” Jinyoung murmurs honestly, “If they’re willing to talk, then maybe. But if it comes down to it—”

“Please, don’t…” His heart practically breaks at the shakiness of your tone. “Just—do anything you have to, but don’t kill them…”

Mark raises an eyebrow with a scowl, “They’ve killed dozens of innocent people, (Y/N). If anything, they deserve to die.”

“Maybe…” You shake your head. “But killing them would make you no better than them.”

Jinyoung feels as if you just punched him in the gut with your words. He has to let go of your shoulder to reach back and support his weight against the table, suddenly dizzy and light-headed.

“We’ll…” Mark sighs, “We’ll try our best, okay?”

You nod before wiping your palms against the side of your jeans.

As you and Mark engage in another round of small talk, Jinyoung tries to settle the nauseous feeling in his gut and focus on anything other than the fragrant waft of your scent. He knows he would never hurt you—his self control is too grand to allow anything like that—but the lack of human blood is beginning to affect him again. For the worse.

Usually Jinyoung is able to hold his own with only a couple droplets of animal blood every few days or so. However, his strength and other abilities have long depleted since he began this strict diet, and while he may not be anywhere near desiccation—Jinyoung is certainly hungry. And weak. Very, very weak.

He just hopes he will be able to withstand the upcoming battle.

“But I want to help!”

“And the answer is no fucking way. Absolutely not.” Jinyoung returns to reality just in time to see Mark shake his head indignantly toward your seething figure. Since then, he notices the two of you have moved to a nearby lectern, where Mark is currently flipping through a large grimoire.

“I can help, I mean—Mina and Momo know me and I swear I can—”

“It’s not fucking happening.” Mark growls, slamming the book shut and leering down at you with a sneer. Jinyoung catches how your face doesn’t falter in the slightest at his angered expression.

With a single finger, you poke Mark’s chest. “I’m not just going to sit back and watch while you and your damn wizard gang go and play hocus pocus with a pair of killers.”

“It’s too dangerous—!”

“Do I look like I fucking care!? Didn’t think so!”

Jinyoung steps in, making sure to keep his tone calm so as to not infuriate you anymore. “Mark is right, (Y/N). I’m sorry—but you’d only be a liability for us to keep track of.”

Your expression hardens. “A liability—? Are you serious?”

Mark doesn’t spare a second glance in your direction and instead turns to Jinyoung. He points toward the countertop behind the vampire, “Can you grab the bowl that’s there? The one from yesterday’s ritual?”

“So that’s it then?” Jinyoung grabs the silver bowl filled with dried blood and the charm bracelet as you continue to rant, and hands it to Mark. The witch immediately dips two fingers into the crimson liquid, closes his eyes and begins to murmur a hushed incantation.

You shove at his shoulder. “Mark? Are you kidding me?”

“(Y/N), please—” Jinyoung steers you away from the witch, forcing himself to keep strong underneath your icy stare. “It’s for your own good…”

With a clenched jaw and sparkling eyes, you shake your head. For a moment, Jinyoung hopes you’ll simply turn on your heel and leave the tense atmosphere of the mausoleum, but as always—you surprise him.

“You know, I let your and Mark’s lying about everything slide because I wanted to move past it—for a fresh start.” You lean closer until Jinyoung can practically taste your minty breath on the tip of his tongue. “But you two are still treating me like some sort of princess that needs to be protected.

“And you know what, Jinyoung?” Your hiss strikes something deep inside Jinyoung’s soul—something even he can’t place. “I’m no princess. And I don’t need to be protected. You’ll do best to get that shit through your head.”

Neither Jinyoung nor Mark try to stop you as you stomp out the door.

Jinyoung bites his lip before turning to Mark. “Are we… doing the right thing?”

“I don’t know.” Mark replies, and for once, Jinyoung can relate to the lost tinge in his tone.

“I really don’t fucking know.”

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beni-draw-ikemen-please · 4 years ago

Text

Kintsugi ~ Repairing with Gold

Kintsugi ~ Repairing with Gold ◆ Ikemen Vampire Fanfiction ◆

CHAPTER 1 - DON’T TELL ANYONE

Words: 2,063

TW: Angst and Hurt ◆ References to Depression ◆ Mental Instability ◆ Mental Health Issues ◆ Implied/Referenced Suicide ◆ Suicidal Thoughts ◆ Graphic Depictions of Sex/Intercourse ◆ Vaginal Sex/Fingering ◆ Rough Sex ◆ Non-con

Pairings: M/F Leonardo Da Vinci x Seiya Amanogawa [OC] / Comte de Saint-Germain x Seiya Amanogawa [OC]

Chapter Index [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

A/N: This is a work of fiction. This is fan fiction for Ikemen Vampire, character designs are owned by Cybird. My story however, features my own OC/MC Seiya Amanogawa who is from Modern Japan/Europe, who travelled to the Louvre for inspiration.

Seiya is female so I will be using she/her as her pronouns. I will also be describing her accordingly. I designed Seiya and she is my Original Character. If you don't like OC+Canon fanfiction, this might not be the fic for you.

KINTSUGI - CHAPTER 1

Don’t tell anyone

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

His golden locks fell beautifully in place, like a masterpiece set within the confines of an ornate golden frame. Right there, in the middle of the museum. The spotlight is carefully placed to highlight the gold that accentuated the piece. And there, in front of it all, with just the right amount of distance, is a lone bench.

That’s how Seiya saw him. A figure to be admired from afar. A treasure, so valuable and so bright, she steps back, almost instinctively, it made her feel smaller and smaller.

She would open her leather-bound book. And very carefully, she would write short letters. They weren’t really addressed to anyone in particular. Maybe they were addressed to her future self, who knows? But she wrote them, every single day. It wasn’t her journal either - no - it was far more complex than that.

Seiya knew in her heart, she wouldn’t be able to bear it, if he ever found out. How much she loved sitting just by the balcony of Vincent’s room during afternoon tea time, so she has the perfect view of the his hands as he gracefully pours tea into the day’s chosen china.

Viridian, with golden leaves and soft speckles of purple, almost white. She knew they were one of his favourites. Wedgewood. She took mental notes every time Sebastian gave her a pointer not to miss, especially when it came to afternoon tea.

She would duck her head, ever so slightly, and she would catch a glimpse of his lips, almost looking like they were kissing the fine things and smiling, so perfectly, complimenting the blend Sebastian had carefully prepared.

It was one of her guilty pleasures. And, it was only after she had shown Vincent what she really drew in her sketchbook that the angel allowed her to use his balcony.

Vincent noticed her when she first arrived. She was this scared, trembling frail little creature, and he wanted to make her feel more at home. Which turned out easier than expected. She spoke modern Dutch, at the very least the sounds were similar to the older variant. Sometimes, Seiya would hear him speak words that made her head tilt in confusion. But she enjoyed his company. And Vincent felt the same.

They would often draw together. Vincent with his easel and brushes, and his apron that’s stubbornly stained with paint, and her with ink and paper. She told him how she hated it when her hands stained of charcoal, or anything, so she stuck with inks. She would often grumble, how she missed modern pens and this thing called a brush pen. And Vincent wondered about it often.

They threw the case towards the makers of the mansion, first, Isaac - who felt comfortable around her, enough to actually draw and fiddle with objects around so vulnerably. Isaac asked for more time, maybe even more materials to create different prototypes. Then, the trio approached Leonardo. And they were able to make something similar to the modern brush pen in about a week’s time.

And so she drew more and more and more with the brush pen. Funny how she thought, she was using another man’s present to draw another man. And those two men happened to be best of friends. For over a century. Maybe, even more.

Seiya kept her notebook to herself. The red leather stood out, so she would often wrap it with a soft lace handkerchief that was too big to be folded and tucked into her pocket. She would keep it in her tray whenever she assembled the residents’ meals or changed sheets. Her notebook never leaves her sight.

Vincent grew curiouser and curiouser every time he would catch a glimpse of the red leather peeking through the black lace. For someone who looked like her, her choice of colour would almost be too bold for a maiden in 19th century Paris. Always black, she would say. Or, if black wasn’t an option, wine red. Or the darkest violet possible.

Vincent remembered the first time he accompanied her to shop for a new dress with Leonardo. They picked up a white dress, made from the finest leavers lace, that she wore with a frown on her face. She covered herself with her arms and asked to change immediately.

“It’s too bright for me,” she said, and Vincent couldn’t make out if she softly cursed in Dutch, or in Japanese, or a mixture of the two. She would, however, hum in satisfaction whenever she saw black velvet chokers, or black leather gloves, and thinking of that contrast made him smile.

He noticed how intently she would spend on each of her drawings. And Vincent would hear the silent flicks of her brush. It would be a long steady stroke for a while, and then flicks of texture. And then she would stop, and sigh, wait for the ink to dry and she would close her sketchbook ever so quietly.

“What are you drawing, Seiya?” he wouldn’t be so bold as to peek over her shoulder as she worked, unlike how Arthur had attempted so many times. Seiya didn’t say much and it was rare to hear her raise her voice even just for a bit, but when it came to her sketchbook, she was vocal and protective. Arthur attempted many times to uncover the mystery of that book, but Seiya never let anyone, not even Vincent take a peek inside.

Maybe it’s her diary? He thought about this many times.

Maybe it’s some sort of visual diary where she draws her feelings instead of writing them down.

Thinking about it like that, Vincent stopped asking her and instead, just enjoyed the tranquility and meditative togetherness of their afternoon painting sessions.

The only person he thought knew about the notebook’s contents would be Leonardo. They spend an awful lot of time together, after all. Comte had assigned the man to be Seiya’s caretaker, and Leonardo took that duty to heart, sometimes too seriously.

Sometimes, during their drawing afternoons, Leonardo would suddenly just pop out of nowhere, grab her notebook and throw it in the grass. The first time he did that, Vincent was so shocked his hands stopped painting, his paintbrush falling on the grass unnoticed.

There was only the sound of the wind, and the shifting of fabric as Seiya smoothed her skirt and walked towards her notebook. She would have a pained expression on her face, and she would wipe her book clean with the hem of her skirt. And Leonardo would just stand there, puffing his cigarrillo in, and blowing it all out with a heavy sigh.

“Fanculo,” she whispered. And Vincent froze. His neck slowly guided his eyes toward Leonardo, who now looked more annoyed than when he first walked in.

Vincent usually did not know how to respond to situations like these. Their silence made it impossible for him to intervene. Leonardo was not violent, no, and he wasn’t the type to insult women. But Seiya didn’t appreciate it when someone ordered her around.

Dealing with Theo at first proved to be one of the hurdles she had to overcome before making the mansion her home, too. Vincent would always remember the face she made when Theo called her a ‘hondje’. And the long road it took for them to actually make an effort to sit down, have an actual conversation and eventually get to know each other.

But with Leonardo, it was something different.

Seiya was composed, and usually calm - at least Vincent thought so - he always felt relaxed whenever they were together. Seiya would often say something and he would apologise for not listening carefully to what she had to say. In the end though, they both agreed that it was more that she spoke too softly, rather than him spacing out and not listening.

Vincent knew that feeling too well. And maybe, it was one of the reasons why they enjoyed each other’s company. Soft souls, his little brother called them.

But with Leonardo, it was different.

Seiya acted more like a child around him. She would pout, call him names and he would let her. And then they would retreat to his room. Sometimes the library. Sometimes, her room, very late into the night.

“I told you. You should stop these silly doodles,” When Leonardo finally spoke, it sounded more like a request than actual lecturing. Seiya would look away, and she would hold her dear treasure closer to her chest.

Vincent, without a word, held out his hands to both of them, as if trying to stop the eruption that was about to happen. Seiya would whisper, that it was none of his business. That made Vincent realise that her notebook was something more valuable than they all deem it to be. And that it was very personal. And, for whatever reason and content it held, Leonardo was against it.

He hated it. Vincent could see it. Enough for him to go out of his way to get it off her hands and into the dirt.

This would happen every now and then, and oddly enough, Vincent knew he should get used to it.

That evening, Vincent brought her a pot of flowers. Hoping she would calm down. Vincent knew his friend did not like cut flowers so whenever he wanted to cheer her up, he would pick a small pot from their growing collection, and walk it to her room.

That day, he could remember she argued with Leonardo again. She was upset that he did what he did during their good days. Vincent felt great earlier in the day and wanted to paint, and she too, felt inspiration course through her hands. And Leonardo just shattered that moment.

Vincent frowned a bit as he leaned against the wall a little further away from the door of Seiya’s room. He could now understand why she was so upset and his heart ached for her. But what he didn’t understand was why Leonardo hated her notebook. Did he dislike that she drew? He couldn’t put his mind around it.

Seiya stormed out, and ran to the opposite direction in tears. After a while, he found her behind the lush greens of the Gazebo. Almost how a little kid would hide themselves after a fight after an afternoon at the sandbox. He remembered how quietly she cried. And how warm her hand was when he helped her out of the grass.

They sat underneath the stars, a bench near the gate of the mansion. And there, she showed him. He didn’t really say anything, no, Vincent just sat with her. Hoping his presence would alleviate the stress and agitation she felt. Seiya felt like she needed to tell Vincent what was happening.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Her voice was always soft, like a silent prayer you hear inside a church. You should make out the words, but they would always sound like some foreign incantation made to sound familiar.

Vincent would often lean in and apologise. Asking her to repeat herself one more time, for his sake. Seiya would chuckle a bit and she would take a deep breath and would speak a little louder.

“Do you dislike Leonardo?” He asked her one time. And she looked at him with the strangest expression on her face. It was as if it was obvious that she did, but she also looked like she was shocked to hear him ask this question. It was hard for Vincent to understand her, most of the time.

Seiya did not say anything, but she gave him her notebook. Vincent’s eyes widened with interest and curiosity. He was excited and Seiya chuckled when she saw the eagerness in his blue eyes.

“Are you sure?” He asked just to be sure. It was dark, but he could still see the pink on Seiya’s cheeks. Her hair looked like starlight illuminating her from the nipping dark of dusk.

Vincent never felt like this before. The build up curiosity all stemming from the enigma that was her notebook, made the first look inside the pages of this mysterious book all the more exciting. He felt like a pirate, opening the treasure chest, seeing the valuable contents for the very first time.

And then, he stopped.

“You can’t tell anyone. Please?”

-To be continued-

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen leonardo #Onibeni Seiya #ikemen comte

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doyelikehaggis · 5 years ago

Text

The Vampire Diaries Verse (Screw-Canon Style): Klaus Mikaelson x Stefan Salvatore x Hayley Marshall | Put your arms around me and I'm home

Requested by anonymous

For a moment, Klaus can't feel a thing. It's like he's just there, floating in an abyss of nothing, without a corporeal form. Not quite existing, but just enough for him to be aware of it. Maybe this is true death, he thinks.

Or maybe it's his punishment for every sin he's committed in his life. Not quite peace, not quite hell. A limbo of sorts, where he'll be all alone, forever accompanied by nothing but his own mind. And he's content with that. It's not endless torture, and he'll take anything over that. There would be too many possibilities for ways that he could be broken.

No, this is right. This is what he deserves, and he is okay with that. In a way, he makes peace with it in that moment.

Then it's as if he blinks, and things slowly start to form in the abyss. It turns from pure darkness to a light shade of grey, silhouettes and objects hazy and unfocused, as if just out of reach. Colours start to seep into the picture before his eyes, and his heart starts to sink. Of course he doesn't get off with simply being isolated for the rest of eternity.

Murmurs echo around him, drifting closer, getting clearer. His eyes narrow, trying to pick out a word, something that'll help him figure out what exactly is going on. He's supposed to be dead. If he's not dead then the hollow could still take over. Everyone, especially Hope, will still be in danger.

Laughing catches his attention. He whips around, on high alert, already trying to shift in anticipation of a fight. But his teeth stay blunt and human. He doesn't feel himself get stronger, or angrier, or feel a need for blood. Not even the presence of magic inside of him, the curse of the hollow trying to get free. It's all...gone.

"Aw, he thinks he's still the all-powerful hybrid. Isn't that adorable?"

Klaus goes completely still. His chest constricts, the air getting caught in his lungs as his head snaps up. Something won't let him turn around, though, let him see for himself. Fear. This is a hallucination of some sort. Probably caused by the hollow. Just a mind game.

"The cutest."

His heart twists, and he really can't breathe. It's not possible. Those voices. It can't be.

But he forces himself to turn around now, his heart stuttering in his chest. And there they are. His stomach drops and he can only stare wide-eyed in disbelief at Hayley and Stefan, standing so casually in front of him. So alive, their eyes bright and full of something he never thought he'd see in either of them ever again. Both wearing smiles with this look on their faces.

"How..." he starts, but can't figure out the rest, simply shaking his head. "This isn't..."

The amusement softens across both of their features, turning to understanding. His mind can barely keep up, trying to process it and failing. It's the Hollow. It has to be. Even in death it won't leave him be, let him rest in peace.

"It's real, Klaus," Hayley says, and her voice sounds so real.

He just shakes his head again as Stefan nods, confirming it. He goes to step back, but stops when Hayley reaches out, her hand settling on his shoulder. The rage that had been building at this mind game he's being forced to play fizzles out like a flame underwater. It feels like everything inside of him stills, as if the whole world slows to let him catch up.

His eyes follow her arm to her hand. He can feel it. The gentle pressure of her fingers curling around his arm, giving a squeeze of proof. Warmth emanating from her skin, and the closer he listens, he realizes with a start, he can hear her heartbeat. The same heart that he heard being crushed. The same skin he saw catch alight under the burning sun until there was nothing left of her. Yet here she is.

Slowly, he draws in a sharp breath, light-headed all of a sudden. He lifts his eyes to meet her soft, assuring gaze. It's not a trick. He knows, because hallucinations even get things wrong, and only the real version of Hayley has ever looked at him like that.

"It's real," he echoes back to her, and her mouth curves a little more as she gives another, single nod.

He doesn't think, just moves, brushing her hand off to pull her into him. Her surprise is clear, but she hugs him back, arms winding around him. Klaus can barely bring himself to remember to breathe. He can feel her. Her small, powerful body in his arms, her hair against his face. Her heart beating against his chest and beneath the skin of her neck. She's real.

The second wave of realization makes him cling tighter, his breath coming out in a harsh gasp. His eyes move without him really controlling his actions. They lock onto that familiar pair of green eyes that are shining so brightly, still holding that same look that Klaus has never felt like he earned. That he thought he had missed his chance to ever see again when he heard of his death while he was too many miles away.

Hayley pulls back, and despite the part of him that read every single letter she wrote to him wanting nothing more than to hold onto her forever, he lets her, his gaze still locked onto Stefan.

"Well," he breathes out, "I heard you ignored me, as per usual, and did a lousy job of taking care of yourself."

Stefan's mouth curves into a grin and a soft chuckle. "You're one to talk."

Klaus can't help but laugh in return. He's crying, he realizes, feeling the wetness around his eyes. They both are.

"I'll admit, I've missed you," Stefan says, and holds a hand out to him with dancing eyes. "Welcome to the afterlife, old friend."

Glancing at his hand, Klaus scoffs. He doesn't even hesitate in knocking it aside and pulling him in with a hand on his shoulder instead. Stefan instantly wraps his arms tightly around him, face pressed into his shoulder. Klaus grips the base of his neck and closes his eyes. For the first time, when he exhales, it doesn't feel like a weight is crushing him.

It doesn't feel like he's going to drown in a sea of grief and despair, but is home at last.

Yet again, he finds himself unwilling to break apart. But he forces himself to anyway, only he doesn't let go. He leans in without worry, without thought, feeling Stefan's desire as strongly as his own. Stefan, who moves to meet him as if it's the most familiar thing in the world, as if it hasn't been decades since they last kissed.

In his heart, it doesn't feel like it has. Everything feels right now, like a rush of memories flowing through him, dropping every barrier he had in place. The same effect that Stefan has had since that day in 1922. He just never thought he would get a chance to feel it all again, not like this.

A throat clearing draws them apart with grins. Klaus steps back and looks over at Hayley, her eyebrows raised but a smile glinting in her eyes.

"Don't worry, little wolf, there's plenty more of me for you," he says.

Hayley rolls those brilliant eyes that he's adored since their first meeting as well. "Still obnoxious in the afterlife. Got it. Are we sure this is peace and not hell?"

"Ouch." Klaus presses a mocking hand to his chest with a wolfish grin. "And here I thought you would be thrilled to see me again."

"This is certainly better than the last time we reunited," Stefan jokes, tilting his head. "Well, sort of. We're all kind of dead this time around, so I'm not too sure about that, but at least no one is trying to kill each other. That's good, right?"

Hayley doesn't agree. A dark look crosses her face. "I was hoping it would be a lot longer before this." She looks at Klaus, and he understands the glint in her eyes before she even says it. "For Hope's sake."

He presses his lips together, swallowing down the lump in his throat and the stinging still lingering in his eyes. The reality of it had slipped him for just a moment, but now he nods, smiling sadly.

"I know," he says, then draws in a shaking breath. "But she's strong. Like her mother. She can survive this." He glances at Stefan, laying a hand on his shoulder. "And she has Caroline looking out for her, along with Rebekah and Marcel, and Freya, and even Kol."

Stefan makes a noise at that, disguising the flash of pain in his eyes at the mention of Caroline. "Kol? I'm a little more worried about her now."

"Yeah, that wasn't your most uplifting speech," Hayley agrees with humour in her voice.

"I knew there was a reason I never wanted to introduce the two of you," Klaus says dryly, and points a finger at them. "I will not be ganged up on! Elijah will be joining us soon, I assume, and the last thing I need is three against one."

"Oh yeah, no can do, buddy," Stefan says, patting his hand. He shares a grin with Hayley. "We've gotten pretty close waiting for you over here. I don't know if we can make any promises on that one."

Hayley shakes her head. "Absolutely not."

"Alright." Klaus drops his hand from Stefan's shoulder. "I'm going to wait over there for my dear brother, far away from the two of you."

"Yeah, good luck with that because we're not going anywhere," Hayley says cheerily, and Stefan agrees.

Despite the front he's putting on, he feels an insurmountable joy. He hopes they're right, because he couldn't bear to lose either of them again. Just seeing them together feels like a blessing, something far more precious than anything he has ever been deserving of in his life.

He would be happy to listen to the two of them tease and trade jibes about him for hours, because it means they're both here with him, and happy. At peace. He understands now why he's here, somewhere in the middle of the bayou. This is his peace. Stefan and Hayley. They're his happy ending, the one thing he never thought that he would get. He's happy to be wrong.

#tvd #the originals #klefan #klayley #klaus mikaelson #stefan salvatore #hayley marshall #klaus x stefan x hayley #the vampire diaries #moodboard #aesthetic #ficlet #fanfiction stuff #rowing the rarepair rowboat #myedit*#so someone asked for a moodboard for this fic before I finished it #so I'm just giving you the whole fic as well

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damianwaynerocks · 5 years ago

Text

Damian’s Journal - Why I’m Not Allowed to Work With Mystery Incorporated Anymore Even Though I Was Completely Justified in my Actions

Bruce, on the advice of Dinah Lance, is forcing Damian to start a journal. This series is just that, his journal entries.

This entry is about Damian Wayne meeting the Scooby-Doo gang

Word Count: 1592

A/N: Yo, this is a crack fic. Enjoy.

Masterlist

Dear Journal (Not a diary)

So, hello, I guess. My name is Damian Wayne. Grayson, my older brother, suggested I start writing a journal. Of course, I strongly objected to this, however after talking to Dinah Lance, Father agreed that it would help with my 'trauma.'

I'm not allowed to go back and edit this so if there are spelling errors, my apologies.

So I suppose my first entry will be about the mayhem that happened with Mystery Incorporated.

We'd heard reports of reports of a group of people sneaking around Wayne Enterprises so of course we had to check it out. Father didn't want me to go because 'you have homework damian' but Wayne Enterprises is MY birthright so?? Of course I had to go??

I followed Father and Grayson carefully and because I am me, Damian Wayne, they didn't notice me behind them. I caught up to them right as they had surrounded the group of teenagers and surprisingly there was?? No fighting??

Apparently they knew each other??

"Batman!" a boy with blonde hair and an atrocious-looking ascot around his neck yelled.

Seriously who wears ascots anymore?? Pennyworth would faint if he saw that.

Father narrowed his eyes. "Fred," he grunted, "And the rest of you. What are you doing in Gotham this time?"

"Somebody's been dressing up as a vampire and scaring people away from Wayne Enterprises at night," a girl in an orange sweater replied, "So we were checking it out. You seriously didn't know about this?"

"I've had my hands full."

By having his hands full, Father meant going off-world to deal with some space threat because of course Hal Jordan couldn't handle it on his own. The imbecile.

I was away, also, on a mission with my best friend, Jon. He's alright I suppose. Annoyingly positive, but alright. He eats vegan burgers with me, at least.

Grayson had been in Bludhaven so we had entrusted Todd to watch Gotham but of course he missed something as significant as a threat to Wayne Enterprises?? I decided I would have a talk with him whenever he returned.

It was then I saw him.

My body buzzed with excitement. It was a dog.

And then it happened.

THE DOG TALKED.

THIS IS NOT A DRILL, I REPEAT, THE DOG T A L K E D

"Reah, we were helping!" the dog barked gleefully.

I screamed in excitement and fell off the lamp post I had been holding on to.

I couldn't help it, and you couldn't have helped it either if you saw it.

Everybody looked at me.

"Robin," Batman growled, "I told you to stay behind!"

"Yeah, Robin, you had an essay to do!" Grayson agreed.

"How do you expect me to focus on an essay whenever there is a talking dog!?" I demanded as I walked to the hound.

The dog narrowed his eyes. "Rog? Where?"

"Like, hi Robin," a lanky boy who looked like he lived off marijuana and those ridiculous memes that Drake loved greeted, "This is Scooby-Doo."

"Hello Scooby-Doo it is an honor to meet you I am so excited," I babbled as I scratched him behind his ears. I usually would not act like such a child but. This is a talking dog.

"Come back with us to the Bat Cave," Father said to Ascot-Guy, who must be their team leader which is a terrible decision in my opinion because?? An ASCOT?? In 2020??

So anyways, we then went back to the Cave after blindfolding the group because there was no way we were trusting a team who entrusted their safety to an ascot-wearing buffoon to know the location of the Cave.

Father drove their vehicle, a van that looked like it was painted while lanky-guy smoked marijuana, to the Cave while Grayson rode in the Bat Mobile and I drove my Red Bird.

We got to the Cave and I instantly hopped off my motorcycle and threw open the back of the van where the dog was and enveloped him in a hug. "Let's go, Scooby-Doo, I can show you my sword collection!" I said excitedly before Father rested a hand on my shoulder.

"No time, Robin," he said, "We need a plan on how to catch this vampire."

"Oh, we have a plan," Ascot said with a wave of his hand, "Velma, Daphne and I are going to put a trip-wire down which will drop a barrel on top of him, and then we'll rush forward with chains and tie him up."

"How will you get him to fall for the trip-wire?" Grayson asked.

"Well, we'll use Shaggy and Scooby as bait, of course."

I saw red. I was shaking in fury. They were going to use?? The DOG?? As BAIT????? They were going to put the DOG IN DANGER???

Not on my watch, no sir.

"Absolutely not!" I exploded, "You are not going to put that dog in danger!! What is wrong with you, you ascot-wearing oaf!! I should call the police on you right this instant for animal cruelty!!"

Ascot blinked and took a step back. "S-Sorry Robin, it's just tradition!"

"No way!" Marijuana Man said, "I agree with the scary one! Kind of. Like, no police, but Scooby and I do not want to be bait!"

"Oh no, you can be bait," I said.

"Oh, come on guys!" Orange Girl urged, "I'll give you a Scooby Snack!"

"Scooby Snack!?" Scooby barked, "Roh boy! Rive me on of rose!"

"Like, oh boy, oh boy!" Marijuana Ma- Shaggy, agreed.

My eyes widened. "You would put your beloved friend in danger for a dog biscuit!?"

"Like, try one, kid!" Shaggy said, handing him a biscuit. I scrunched my nose at it but bit into it anyways.

When I tell you that it was the most amazing thing that has ever graced my tastebuds, I mean it.

It tasted like the feeling of working with Richard. It tasted like heaven. It tasted like the feeling of defeating a bad guy. It tasted like the feeling of saving an innocent. It was better than even Pennyworth's cooking.

Of course, I couldn't let them know that, though.

"Give me that!" I snapped, ripping the box from her hand, "I will be confiscating this."

Really, though, I just wanted it for myself and to give to Pennyworth so he could hopefully find some on Amazon.

"I will be bait instead of Scooby-Doo," I declared, "Because clearly you people care more about food than safety."

"Robin, you do know that being bait requires you to act scared, right?" Grayson asked gently. I scoffed.

"Of course it does, and I can act scared!"

I meant it, too. I would just pretend I was watching that Hereditary movie that I went and saw with Todd.

Or that time I walked in on Drake and Brown having coitus in the Bat Cave.

That is the real trauma I need to write in this journal for. Growing up with assassins? Forget it. Dying? No big deal. Seeing Drake's genitals? I will be needing years of therapy for that.

So that's how I ended up outside my inheritance building with Shaggy. I was dressed in civilians clothes with sunglasses to hide my identity.

"Like, you know only weird people wear sunglasses in the dark, right?" Shaggy said, taking a bite of a hotdog he had pulled out of nowhere.

"Incorrect," I disagreed, "My brother happens to say that only cool people wear sunglasses in the dark."

"If you say so."

We were loitering outside the building and I was bored.

"Do you smoke marijuana?" I asked bluntly. Shaggy choked on his hotdog.

"Like, no?"

I opened my mouth to argue with him before we heard a screech. I looked up and saw a poor costume of a vampire coming towards us.

Shaggy screamed and started to run and, picturing Drake's thing in my mind, I screamed and ran after him, through the double doors of the building.

We hopped over the trip-wire, and skidded to a halt in front of the stairs. The vampire was running towards us but gave a weird yelp whenever it tripped.

At that moment, a barrel fell from the ceiling and landed on the creature. Ascot-Man and Grayson jumped out of the shadows, tying the creature up in chains.

"Ah ha!" A lady with red hair- Daphne, I think -yelled victoriously. "Not so scary now, are ya?"

Velma followed her out of the shadows, Father close behind. Velma took off the vampire mask, and revealed- my English teacher??

I wasn't really shocked, though. He was a Trump supporter.

Velma rattled off obvious reasons why he was in Wayne Enterprises and apparently he just?? Wanted into the safe??

There's so many more easier ways to do that than dressing up as a vampire??

So that was that. Kind of. We tied the guy up, calling Gordon, and left and went back to the Bat Cave where we saw Scooby-Doo sleeping on top of the dinosaur.

Scoobysaurous Rex perked up as he heard us come in, and his tongue lolled as he ran down the tail of the statue and jumped into Shaggy's arms.

Father congratulated them but me?? I absolutely did not.

I once again gave them an earful about how irresponsible they were to put Scooby-Doo in danger.

"If I find out you have done that again I will personally have your liver on a platter-"

Grayson interrupted me with a nervous laugh. "He's just kidding!! He'll just send you a strongly worded email!!"

I glared at him before turning back to Ascot-Man. "And another thing!! An ascot!! In 2020!! What is wrong with you!?" I tore it off of his neck and huffed, "There, now you look slightly less idiotic."

And then Father sent me to my room.

So yeah that's what happened there. I've been keeping tabs on them and so far I have seen no sign of them putting the dog in danger.

Good riddance. Because I would have indeed sent them a strongly worded email as well as the liver thing.

- Damian

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badoperafanfiction · 5 years ago

Text

Captives: Chapter 5

Work: Lucia di Lammermoor/La Boheme crossover

Vampire!Ashtons, Fairy!Bucklaws.

Notes: Arturo and Lucia both survived their wedding night.

Main character: Marcello

Author notes: The word of the day is Hopeful!

Character guide

"I've spoken to the Lord Fairy," declared Marcello. "He won't help us."

"What!" exclaimed Colline.

"Such a potent discovery, and it will have no ��further bearing on our lives!" moaned Schaunard.

"And in such relatively good prose, too," muttered Rudolfo.

"However," cut in Marcello, "all is not lost."

"Have you good news?" asked Schaunard, with hopeful eyes.

"Better. I have scandalous gossip about His Illustrious Lordship, our host."

All six eyes lit up, and Marcello sat on the piano while they struck schoolchild poses around him. He told them everything he had seen and heard, in lurid detail; of the dark hall, of Lord Bucklaw, of the portrait, of the hithertofore unmentioned sister. The boys drank it up with rapt attention and barely restrained glee.

"What will we do with such gossip?" asked Colline.

"mayhaps we can blacken his name somewhat," Schaunard suggested hopefully.

"That wouldn't work," Colline said. "The servants already know, and he takes no guests except the lady's husband."

"But so many extrapolations to be made!" Rudolfo exclaimed. "With such detail he gave those impassioned descriptions to Marcello's hand!"

Schaunard seemed to have an idea of where this was going, and leaned foreward in his seat with glimmering, hopeful eyes.

"He forbade their love, his heart swelled with rage at the thought of his sister in such a man's arms - a man whose features he had studied empassionately!"

"Of course!" Schaunard exclaimed, leaping up. "And on the night of the wedding, the night when at last he had dismantled the risk of their love..."

"Rejected, and distraught!"

"The maid, locked away, for fear of the memories she brings."

"The name banished away from the face he knows so well."

"Rudolfo, we must write a ballad!"

"Once we change the names and make the maid a boy, why, we shall fill the opera houses all over France!"

"Why suffer that, when we can sing it in the streets of Paris, unedited?"

"Of course!" Marcello said, leaping on the pianoforte. "What a song the hopeful paupers will sing, of a passionate young sir and his tender feelings towards the man he longs for! All of Paris will know the name Ashton!"

"Are you up to the task?" Colline asked of Schaunard and Rudolfo, lounging on the rug. Marcello looked hopefully over to Schaunard.

"Writing passionate songs of tender love towards longed-for young men is the work I was born for," Schaunard said, while Rudolfo and Marcello stole hopeful glances at one another. Colline silently grinned, down towards the rug and away from their faces.

---

Colline reflected long and often on their captivity. Many philosophers, many of the men who he admired most, did the best of their worj in caves - in social slavery to unjust governments - in the midst of great hardship - trapped, alone and friendless, in the isolation imposed by circumstance or by black bile.

Colline was desperately unhappy. Despair was nothing new to him, and its taste in his mouth was familiar and bitter. He had resigned himself to material helplessness long, long ago, to a world where it mattered not what he did or said; only that the fire stayed lit another night and their bellies stayed empty of starvation.

Lady wisdom was a prize to be cherished above all discomfort. To her bosom he fled the daily drudgeries and the gnawing nerves. He lost himself in her bliss, drinking in the words of his great teachers from their cream-colored beds on the pages of old, musty books, world left behind as he fled the reaches of wisdom.

Colline was desperately unhappy. He found less and less energy in his mind to be with the others each day. He was slowly withdrawing from others, eating less, reading books from the Ashton library to the exclusion of any other pursuit.

This is how he found the Ashton family baptismal records. And the family tree. And several generations of diaries.

Colline was a philosopher, whose mind was trained to higher things and who bent his efforts to the pursuit of wisdom, but even a philosopher is riveted by good, juicy gossip, and there was plenty to be had here.

---

“Marcello,” Colline said, “Bucklaw told you that we have to solve this problem without his help, yes?”

“That is correct,” Marcello said. “Fairy law would require payment in the form of an object of equal value.

“But he saved you from the Lady Bucklaw without making any further demands.”

Marcello blinked. “That... That’s true.”

“What are you thinking?” Schaunard asked, confused, and knowing that this had to be going somewhere.

“I have an inkling why,” Colline said. “Lady Bucklaw, as he said, is his wife, and his responsibility. You were intruding in a realm, but not in his realm - merely a forbidden wing in his brother-in-law’s house. Which means that your injury would have been nothing short of manslaughter, and his responsibility.“

“I see. That’s quite interesting,” Marcello said.

Schaunard raised an eyebrow. “What use is this to us?”

“It has to do with the wedding,” Colline said. He sat down, perching on the arm of a chair. “In his library, Lord Ashton keeps all kinds of records, as any lord would - ledgers, family records, the works. He is meticulous with his filing, as was his father, although I think their grandfather had a few bats in his belfry.”

Rudolfo arched an eyebrow at Marcello. Colline was quiet, the vast majority of the time, but he was also fascinated by knowledge of all kinds, and when he became fixated, he was not easy to stop.

“Well, at the date previously mentioned, the Ashtons were in debt - far more in debt than the lavishness of this estate would make clear. The union with the Bucklaws included significant financial and political gain.”

“Now that is something,” Maracello said, interest piqued.

“There’s more,” Colline said. “There are missives and letters scattered about their records as well. About one year ago, there is one regarding the disappearance of one Sir Ravenswood, a name we know well.”

“The time of the wedding?” Rudolfo asked.

“Precisely. If you go back earlier, there is a land acquisition from that same family in their ledgers, and directly before that, remarks on the funeral of another Ravenswood, this one with the title of Lord. He died in a duel with our dear Ashton’s father.”

“A family enemy, then?” Schaunard asked, hope sparking in his eyes.

“Indubitably,” Colline said. “But it goes back further.”

“Just how much of this madman’s journal did you read?” Marcello demanded.

“He’s literary, Marcello, you don’t understand!” Rudolfo rebuked. “Please go on, Colline.”

“Well, the earliest mentions I saw - as early as I got, that is - we find, when the Lord Ravenswood was still certainly young, the death of a girl - a cousin - at the hands of a previous Ravenswood. This one was mentioned without a title. The girl, who was eighteen at the time, was a cousin of the Ashtons. Her death was supposedly a crime of passion.”

“So we have a feud on our hands,” muttered Schaunard.

“Or the dredges of one,” said Rudolfo. “Sir Ravenswood is disappeared, yes? Does he have any kin?”

“I think not,” said Colline. “The missive I found was by a fellow Scott and political ally. I got the distinct impression that Lord Ashton was the only possible contact he could think of.”

Marcello slumped down, looking defeated. “Then our only possible human ally is gone.”

“And our chance of getting in with Lord Bucklaw is back,” Schaunard said, stroking his chin. “The Ashton family is his responsibility. If we have the means to expose them to scandal or injure them in some way, it would reflect on his wife. We may have our equivalent exchange.”

---

Later that day, Schaunard caught Colline by the arm.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he said. Colline looked confusedly up at him, and Schaunard felt awkward. “You’ve been spending a good deal of time with your books lately, and, well, I hope it’s been good for you.”

“Of course it has been,” Colline said pausingly.

“What I mean to say is-” Schaunard sighed deeply and frustratedly and scrubbed his face with his hand. “You’ve been avoiding us lately. If it’s because anything is wrong, then please--”

“Nothing is wrong,” Colline said, a bit to quickly, a bit too wide-eyed.

“Then please,” Schaunard pleaded, “don’t be afraid to tell me.”

Colline still looked confused, but he nodded, then went on his way back to the library.

Us, Shaunard realized a moment too late. I meant don’t be afraid to tell us.

#Lucia Di Lammermoor #La Boheme #Bad Opera Fanfiction #Crossover #Meta fiction #Schaunard/Colline

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justfangstvdto · 6 years ago

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Open Coffin | Chapter 24: “All´s Fair and Karma is a Bitch”

Pairing: Kol x SalvatoreSister!Reader

Chapter Summary: A surprising return sets the reader and Kol on a path of no return..

Warnings: canon-divergent lore (it'll make sense when you read it, I promise) this one is also mostly focused on Kol, angst, typical tvd violence, so much dialogue, canon divergence

Word count: 4389

Tags & Author Note at the bottom. Feedback is welcomed and appreciated.

Open Coffin Masterlist

Your name: submit What is this?

Recap:

What’s going on?” Is all you could manage to bring out before you grab the couch again, this time covering the floor before you with a steady stream of blood. It feels like you’re drowning in your own blood.

With your brain in overdrive, you feel your vision declining the more blood is coming out of your mouth, before suddenly everything engulfs into black, as if someone flipped of a light in a dark room. You fall back against Kol unconscious, blood dripping from the corners of your mouth.

“What did you do?!” Kol grits through his teeth, as he scoops you up in his arms to lay you down on the couch behind him..

“Not a thing. She brought that on herself.” Mae shrugs without a care in the world “But this is only the beginning…Say goodbye to the Y/N you know and love. She won’t be the same when she wakes up.”

“Speak. Now!” Kol demands. If she´ss not cooperating soon, Kol will resort to deliciously brutal alternatives, no matter if you claim that she’s your friend. He doesn’t care.

“Patience.” Mae says, her voice layer with a tick of annoyance “But first, I have someone here who is dying to talk to you.”

Kol straightens up, as the sound of heavy boots echoes in the hall. He couldn’t see the person’s face at first due to the blinding sunlight, but when he finally does, all he wants to do is run for his life….

“Surprised to see me?” Klaus smug smile evokes many feelings in Kol, but surprise? No, Kol is not surprised in the slightest. His brother has always managed to get what he wants, the way he wants. Of course, he would find a way to cheat death.

He looks at his older brother, then back to the couch, stepping in his line of sight. Maybe he would focus his rage on him instead of you. But that's might just wishful thinking on his part.

“I'm pretty sure you went up in flames..” Damon Mutter, not quite believing his eyes.

“Oh, I very much did. Quite unpleasant, really. But my dear Maeyra used her vast resources to secure my well-being.” He says, moving his attention to Kol “Cat's got your tongue, brother?”

“Well, brother, I´m not particularly surprised to see you,” Kol replies.

Using the word brother remains to be more of a dismissive term, and Klaus knows that. And he also knows that Kol´s statement is a lie, he didn´t overlook the obvious surprise on his brother's face. However mischievous Kol remains to be, he has always been a bad liar.

“Can we, uh get back to how you´re even here right now?” Stefan says “We drove a stake through your heart.”

“You?” Klaus scoffs, dismissing their involvement to nothing but a coincident “You, gentlemen, were nothing but a pawn - an accessory if you will- to Y/N´s Shakespearean thirst for revenge.”

Stefan quirks his eyebrows up before letting them fall back to their usual resting position. He could reply to Klaus statement verbally. He had things to say about him, he just isn't sure he wants to waste time bothering.

“I knew you couldn´t be trusted.” Damon says, averting his words to Mae “Y/N always did have poor taste in friends.”

“Congratulations, you got me. Boohoo.” Mae sighs, before giving Klaus a pleading look “Would you mind? ”

Klaus smiles and vamp-speeds towards Damon standing nearest and snaps his neck, before quickly moving on to Stefan who couldn't even register what was going on before he too was engulfed in blackness.

“Now, that's better.” Klaus dusts off his hands, “All talk those Salvatores. Well, except for one. “

“Look, “Kol says, having more pressing matters to attend than useless platitudes, “I´d love to chat about whatever this is, but I have an unconscious girlfriend covered in blood back there, so would you mind buggering off. Your betrayal is not on my to-do list today.”

“Betrayal?” Klaus laughs, fake offended “Don't be so dramatic, brother. Maeyra and I merely joined forces because you couldn't keep your girl in line. She helped me lift my curse, I felt obligated to help her. After all, what's worth dying for if not love?”

Love...Kol could not even begin to associate that word with anything his brother does. It makes him sick to his stomach. Or perhaps it´s the worry about your current condition- either way, he senses a veil of danger in the air. Danger that feels different, blood curling and cold.

What if she's right and you won't be the same. But what if-

He pushes the thought aside. If they want to lay their secrets bare for once, he’ll bite their bait.

“Curse?” He asks “What curse?”

“It ain't a curse exactly, but you know, it's six of one, half dozen of the other,” Mae says as she walks further into the room, going straight for your unconscious form. She reaches out, but Kol's firm grasp on her wrist prevents any contact.

“Hands off. “ He warns and everyone knows he'll only warn once.

“I could say the same. “Klaus says, the usual charismatic and boastful s voice nothing but a dangerous whisper.

“Oh, so much Testosterone…” Mae sighs under her breath and pulls her hand free from Kol and heads for the bar. The next bit requires booze. And a lot of it.

Kol follows her every move, while also keeping tabs on Klaus. He's unsure who out of them will screw things up first or who’ll drive him to insanity- whichever comes first.

“Long story short, the magic I once possessed was stored away in here before I became a vampire.” She says and brushes over the scar on her face “The sacrifice of an original was the ultimate source to overpower the protection spell. It was the only way to retrieve said power, alongside rare ingredients I've gathered for the last 100 years. This spell was supposed to set my magic free. But someone must have intercepted it. ”

“Wasn't us.” Kol shakes his head and judging by the look on his opposer they don´t seem convinced. “I never heard of a spell like this. And magic drains away during the transition, how would you retrieve it?”

“Because my magic was hidden away before I was turned, it wasn't lost like yours was. See it as a loophole, no magic drains away if it's undetected.”

Kol read about witches hiding their magic in objects, but never in themselves.

“And what about Y/N? She never had powers.”

“Turns out Momma Salvatore had powers of her own. Weak power but enough to pass it on to Y/N. After her birth, she chose to hide her magic within her. She wanted to tell her when she was older, to give her a choice, but she died before she could do so.”

“And do tell, how do you know this?”

“I might have stolen her diary a few centuries ago. Apparently, everyone in this family is keeping diaries.” She shrugs before rummaging around in her bag, “It's no use to me now if you want it, it's yours.” She slides the worn leatherbound book over the table.

“Now now, love,” Klaus says and leans towards her as if he's sharing a terrible secret “don't skip the best part.”

“Y/N is in transition, fighting a battle in her mind that either leaves her with vampire advantages and witch powers or…” She says, and hesitates for a second “well…..dead. “

Kol feels like someone tightened a noose around his neck. If you look close, you could see the perfected mask of pretend crumbling down and ram emotions taking over. And Kol's first emotion is always its anger.

He digs his fingertips into the leather, and slowly drags his eyes off the carpeting and states at his opponents, ready for torturing the truth out of them if he has to.

“Before you go all Dexter on me, there is a way to help. But you ain't gonna like the cost.”

Klaus turns his head at her words, quickly shaking his head “Out of the question. I will not allow it.”

“Tell me.” Kol demands “Tell me what we have to do to save her.”

There's no question that Kol will do whatever it takes.

No matter the cost.

--------

Kol had forgotten how much he used to enjoy watching the sunrise. The light streaming into the living room is bold and free for anyone who cares to open their eyes in the dawn and watch the world awake.

Even when the world was drowning in grief and hardship, the sky remained beautiful. It always gave him hope that if the sun keeps rising, so could he.

Even though his name alone represents darkness, he always found it humorous when the rising sun would shine a light on his bloody indiscretions committed during the dark hours of the day.

But none of that matters, it hadn't mattered since he stumbled into his life. He doesn't need the sunrise anymore, he sees the light beneath the darkness on his own now. And he wonders how much good it´ll do him when-

A knock on the doorframe interrupts his thoughts, and he turns his head towards the intruder.

“Still nothing?” Stefan asks, and Kol shakes his head.

Stefan, alongside his brother, woke up in the midst the preparations to ensure your survival. They demanded answers as they do, but soon realized that the cost, however great it is, must be

The only opponent of said plan was, to everyone's surprise, Klaus.

“The cost is too great, brother. Let her fight on her own.” Is what he said. Of course, his brother would only think of himself if he were in his shoes. Kol didn't expect anything else. Nonetheless, the plan was executed all the same, with or without Klaus approval.

“It will work, I assure you.” Kol says, the tone in his voice, less confident than he intended “But I have a favour to ask. Do not mention it when she wakes up. She won't accept it”

“I won't. Damon won´t either, I´ll make sure of it.”

Kol nods his head as a silent thank you. Stefan attention bounces around the room, looking at the couch, then back to Kol, before he clears his throat and steps further into the room.

“You know I, uh. I wouldn't know what I would've done if she-”. He pauses, “Just.. thank you for helping. “

“Don't thank me yet. Y/N will-… you know how she is. She'll take it out on you when she learns the truth”

“I know. “Stefan sighs and looks over to the couch, suddenly remembering why he stepped into the room in the first place. “Uh right.. I found this upstairs. She's gonna need it” He reaches into his pocket and hands Kol your daylight ring.

Promptly, Kol reaches for your hand slides the ring on your fingers with care, holding onto your hand afterwards.

“I hope you can forgive me someday.” He says, his voice faint as a whisper.

He didn't care if Stefan - or anyone else for that matter - heard him.

“I´ll uh,” Stefan clears his throat “I´ll give you some space. Got some things to take care of anyway. My number is in Y/N´s phone, call if you need anything.”

Kol knows he should say something, a thank you perhaps, but he lets Stefan walk away against his better judgment.

---

You were out cold for another hour, the only sign of life was your shallow breathing and the occasional wincing. And Kol remained a wreck. He tried pacing the room to calm his nerves, he tried reading and drinking - nothing helped.

So he waited and waited. Then just as the hand of the clock strikes another hour, your hand that's resting on the sofa balls to a fist and he sees you sit up, breathing heavy.

“Darling?” He asks wearily, rushing to your side. But He's met with nothing but silence. “Y/N, talk to me.”

“I'm fine, I just…what fuck? I feel like I’m.. honestly, I feel like I’m high on something. Everything feels more vibrant and.. weird.”

Kol smiles and thinks back to the time where he first tapped into his magic it felt like he was surrounded by buzzing energy, ready to be He´d count your reaction as a good sign that the plan worked.

“What's wrong?” You ask, not having missed the worry on Kol's face. “What did I miss?

He has absolutely no idea how to tell you the news without either setting you off to everyone involved, presumably raining hellfire upon them, or…….. actually no, that's his main concern, So he starts with your new and unexpected powers instead. How your mother had witch powers and hid it within your bones. And how the induced sleep intended to kill you but you fought through it. Of course, he left out everything else it intels.

“I think I’m gonna pass out. Witch powers, really? Me?” You scoff, dragging your fingers through your hair, “As if I didn't have enough problems just keeping myself in check, now witch powers too? How long do you think before I accidentally set something on fire? “

“Not a chance. I will help you take control.”

“You teaching me control? We’re so screwed.”

Kol can´t help the confused look on his face, as he scrunched his eyebrows together and glances at you with concern.

“Hey, I'm kidding. But you should´ve seen your face. “

Kol sighs and it bleeds over to a smile, before disappearing completely. He had a job to do.

“There’s something else, two matters in fact.” Kol continues “But first..what do you say we make good on our promises? Travel the world, just you and me.”

“Do you even have to ask? Of course, I'm coming with you” You reply “Now tell me everything. “

----

His confidence held up for about 5 minutes before all your emotional stability went out of the window. Once he passed explaining that Klaus is alive and well, he moved to Mae´s indiscretion

Of course, Kol failed in his attempt to keep you calm. By the time he explained his agreement with Klaus and Mae´s..indiscretion, you were out of the door, tracing her down.

Kol said you should let it go, you were lied to, it wasn't your fault- but your trust had been shattered and you have a score to settle.

“What the hell?!” You yell at her, your voice bouncing off the outer walls of the Mikaelson Mansion. You knew she wouldn´t be far.

“Hell's right here.” She says, before she´s met with your balled fist. She tumbles back, and laughs “Whew! The infamous right hook. You still got it. “

“You´ve been working with Klaus all this time? After everything, he did to me, to Kol?"

“We all do what must be done, and I've done nothing more than profit off of your anger.”

“Do you even hear yourself? Profit of my anger?” You huff, not bothering waiting for an answer “How could you? Klaus ruined my life and everyone´s life he ever touched! How could you protect him? I had him, Mae. I ended this for all of us.”

“And what did it get you, huh? Did you feel better? Did driving a stake through his heart relief you of the pain he caused? Revenge means nothing, and it will give you nothing. Your foolish scheme would have been the end of us, and honestly, you should be thanking me.”

“Thanking you? Are you fucking serious? You sided with my enemy!”

“I saved your life. And you have powers now. That´s a gift, a freedom I searched for decades. You better start being more grateful.”

“I didn't ask for any of this! I don't want them and I don't need them.”

“Well, you got ‘em. And you gotta to use them or they'll eat you alive. Literally.”

“I know all about it.” You brush her off. Kol told you that the powers demand to be used or they´d claw at your skin until there's no skin left,

“Just tell me how long you've been working with him." You continue "Then I’ll do the part where I tell you to go to hell, before we go our separate ways.”

“Shortly after you jumped ship, and joined Kol in his efforts, Klaus came to me asking for assistance and we made a deal. He would do anything he can to rid me of this curse and I will help him set his werewolf powers free. And protect him if anything goes south.

“I´m sorry, is this the point where I'm supposed to sympathize with you? Because that's not gonna happen. “

“You might if you let me finish. “

“You know, I actually thought your efforts were noble when I first joined your community. I thought, hey finally something with purpose, something to make up for what I've become. And now I find out everything was a lie? Just another power play with me as the main act? And for what, more power than you already have?”

“Now do get off that high horse of yours. You ain't the saint you externalize either.” She snaps back but quickly regains her stellar demeanour "But it ain't about power, it never has been. It's about being myself without having a part locked away. I deserve that freedom, no matter the cost.”

You almost have sympathy with her, but the fact that she has been lying to you pretty much ever since you´ve met melts any and all sympathy you had.

“But you broke my trust to get that freedom. I trusted you and I don't trust anyone.”

You could count on one hand the number of people that you genuinely trust, and she was on that list once upon a time.

“Let’s be frank, we never trusted each other.”

“We both know that's a lie. But if you're gonna stand here and explain it away, so be it. I have somewhere else to be.” You know full well that she's just trying to relieve her guilt, but you won't have any of it. Not anymore “This is goodbye, Mae. If I find anyone coming after me, I'll kill them.”

With that, you turn your back on not only her but all the time you've spent trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. You actually thought you could trust her again.

“I know it'll mean nothing to you now,” She says, but you keep walking “but you will always have a home in New Orleans. No matter what happens or what you think of me, or my actions - you are always welcome.”

“Whatever.”

-------

Back at the house, you didn't think twice before packing your bags. Kol told you about the deal he made with his family; You both leave town, leaving Klaus in peace from now on. That's the price to pay for killing him or well, failing to kill him. But if the past hours have taught you anything, is that if you´re presented a way out of a dire situation like this, you shouldn't hesitate. Maybe leaving town will finally give you the chance to leave all of this behind.

Perhaps everything you´ve done has finally let you here.

“All packed up, huh?” Stefan says from the doorway.

You look up and smile at him before turning back, throwing a t-shirt into your suitcase “Yeah. No idea where we´re going just yet, but I guess we're just gonna pick a place and go.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“You sure you don't want to join us? There´s enough space.”

“I would but I, uh, we have some things to figure out here.” He says and you nod, zipping up the suitcase in front of you.

“Come on, let me help you with that.” Stefan offers, and grabs the handle, disappearing out of the room before you can protest.

Downstairs, you´re greeted by Damon´s presence, having just come back from some kind of business in town.

“You're leaving already?” He asks as you descend the stairs.

“Don't tell me you're sad about me leaving?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe, huh?" You look back at Stefan behind you, quirking an eyebrow "The old Damon couldn't wait for me to go. What happened to him?“

“That Damon got his ass kicked and almost his head blown off by his little sister. I got rid of him.”

“About that.. “

“It's fine.” He waves it off.

"Still, I´m sorry." "But hey, we´re finally parting on good terms, who would've thought?”

“Wait for him to screw it up,” Stefan says and cocks his head towards Damon.

Damon grimaces a fake laugh, before reaching out and pulling you into an unexpected hug “You take care, little sis.”

“Oh god, don´t call me that, weirdo.”

“I'll call you whatever I want, weirdo.” He replies "Where´s your scary boyfriend?"

Squeaking tires and loud music diverts your attention and you open the door, just in time to see Kol pulling up on the driveway.

“Right there.”

“You've got to be kidding me. Who is he trying to be, John Cusack in Say Anything? Not with a boombox over his head but with obnoxiously cheesy 80’s music?”

“Chessy?! Pft no taste. “Stefan mutters.

“If he's gonna turn that shit up, “Damon says “I’m gonna punch the radio until my ears stop bleeding.”

“What did you say?!” Kol yells over the music, having just rolled the window down “I'm afraid I can't hear you?! Must be my old age. “

Damon groans “Just go already. I can't take it.”

“Fine, I'm going.” You approach the car, opening the passenger side, throwing your suitcase in the back before hopping into the passenger seat.

You lean out of the open window, looking back to your brother's, as Kol turns the ignition back on “Don't open the door to strangers, stay out of my room and don't call me unless you really have to. Actually, no don't call me at all.” You give them a wink before giving Kol the go, and he floors the car, driving away with squeeking tires.

Stefan and Damon remain behind and wave goodbye from the entrance to the house. Once you're out the driveway and out hearing distance, their smiles fall and worry spreads over them.

“She´s gonna hate us when she finds out.” Stefan says, chewing on the inner corners of his cheek “You know that, right?”

“Yup.” Damon nods “We're officially the worst brothers in history.”

“Yeah..You think she's gonna find out before...you know?”

“It´s Y/N, what do you think?”

“Yup, we´re screwed.”

Damon sighs and claps him on the shoulder “Royally screwed, little bro. Royally screwed..”

----

The road out of Mystic Falls is smooth black river in the dying sun. The sort where you'd follow them wondering if they'd ever cease to wind their way through nature.

You´re propped up on the hood of the car, legs crossed and soaking in the last rays of the sun. You asked Kol to pull over the car to savour this moment of leaving town, instead of just driving past the sign.

It reads "Leaving Mystic Falls" … it's like music to your ears.

It was always the plan to travel the world together, to show Kol what he has been missing, and today, finally after hardship, murder and pain, the day has come. You wanted to leave this place for weeks now, but something, be it the ugly green hue of the sign or Kol´s unusual silent manner made you question your choice even just the tiniest amount..

“Who would've thought we're actually leaving this town behind for good?” You say, slipping your hand in his that's resting on his thigh before bathing in the sunset. “ Riding into the sunset even, how perfect is this? “

“I know,” Kol says, staring at your intertwined hand, rubbing his thumb over your skin.

You look over and instead of a beaming smile, you see his head hanging low.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Of course.” He says and lifts your hand, chasting a kiss on the delicate skin “Just...thinking about where to go first.”

“I don't care where we go. As long as you´re here, I have everything I need.”

“Let's not waste time then.” He says, and jumps off the car, throwing the keys towards you “Do you want to drive first? You've been eying this car ever since we left.”

“You know you're the only one I’m eyeing here.” You reply, “Okay maybe the car as well.”

Kol laughs and finds himself tracing the cars shiny exterior in an exaggerated attentive manner “She's almost as beautiful as you.”

“Did you just...compare me to a car?”

“Your beauty knows no bounds, darling. Not even mechanical ones. ”

“Okay that's enough, get the in the car, Romeo.”

He laughs and you swear you never heard anything more heart-stoppingly beautiful.

You turn the volume up with a flick of the nob attached to the vintage radio and put the gear in drive, before flooring the pedal, leaving the town sign in the dirt.

Kol looks out of the passenger window, watching the trees fly by in motion and he feels an unfamiliar feeling settling in his chest, he could only describe as contentment.

He’s free. Finally.

And so in love.

And his life had 6 months left to run……..

A/N: Whew..on a scale from 1 to 10 how much do you hate me for the last sentence? :D

This is the last chapter before we have our season finale or book 1 finale or whatever you like to call it. So prepare yourself for the next chapter, where we finally find out what exactly the price was for the reader's survival.

But I am so curious to know what you think! Any theories, criticism or any feedback are incredibly appreciated!!

Open Coffin Tags: @shadylittlewonder @thegoddessofvampire @newurleans @originalbish98 @acourtofhopeanddreams @bonniebird @imnoaingeal @vaniileiinkeks @relmi-llorrac @piercethepottorff @maliae14 @5-seconds-of-animals @the-geeky-engineer @rock-n-magick @flymeawayworld @givemesomehybrid @mikealsonlover @nuteller28 @fandoms-fandoms-everywhere99 @drkplum @fandooomqueenforyou @free-the-fangirl @clockworkballerina @twisted1ginger @superwholocksociopath474 @pacifyprincess@mustachio1616 @thealyana @sandyclaws @unicorntrooper @buckysummers @sanity-is-overratedxp @akshi8278 @lunna-star-8 @graysonmalfoy @woodworthti666 @elenavaldez02 @lilulo-12 @selmasemlan @thelostallycat @characterobsessed @cococola-cocaine @crazyinternetgirl @tvdplusriverdale @-thatgirloverthere- @alwxadria345 @trymexo @mizzezm @willieshakesqueer @spunky-89 @putyourherohaironstefan @xxdragonagequeenxx @thegingerthatwaited @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven @hinata7346 @controloffandoms

#kol x reader #kol mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson #tvd imagine #the originals imagine #open coffin #the originals #the vampire diaries

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gloster · 6 years ago

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Favorite Fanfics of 2018

So after seeing so many booktubers and book people make a list of their favorite books of 2018, I figured why not do one for fanfics. After all, they are stories done by insanely-talented, creative people who deserve more love. Why not make a list of the favorites that really blew you away this away-along with hyping the people up who need more love?

I implore you all to try, especially: @kila09, @scarlet47, @awjiminie, @profoundfelicity, @dreamydrarry, @sebbies, @goldentruth813, @sasuhinas-fan, @l0vegl0wsinthedark, @oh-my-fancan, @eyelashesandentropy. Show some love to your fics, share the recs.

My favorite fanfics of 2018:

1). The Changing Lights by @lazywonderlnds (drarry, featuring fem-Draco)

Summary: Harry returns for an eighth year following the end of the war and soon realizes that although he's put his own animosity towards Malfoy aside, no one else seems to have done the same. When a hex leaves his oldest rival in the body of a female and ridicule doubles, Harry discovers that his hero complex is a difficult thing to fight.

THIS. FUCKING. STORY. OMG. OMG. First off, I have to thank @scarlet47. It is because of her and the insanely amazing fanart she did that I discovered this hidden gem. And I thank her for it since this has to be the best drarry fanfic I’ve read in the longest time.

It has been too damn long since a drarry fanfic had me hooked the way this one did. First chapter in, halfway through, I was hooked. I blew through the chapters, and am anxiously, eagerly waiting for more because it was so good.

I also love it since I’ve been wanting to read a fem-Draco story. I know some drarry lovers don’t love genderbent drarry but I love it. I’ve read plenty of fem-Harry but sadly hadn’t come across fem-Draco. And the ones I managed to find were just okay. This one though...set and fucking broke the bar. It makes me CRAVE and want more (feel free to send any recs featuring it). And I loved it so much that I wanna reread but I have to resist since I have a mountain of fanfics to go through.

2). Oh Darling, Stand by Me by @beatitudinembty (BTS, taekook)

Summary: Kim Taehyung had never coped well when there was an angry alpha around, no matter that he wasn't the object of their fury. Wisely choosing to keep his mouth shut, he had ignored the flaring annoyance building up inside of his chest at being treated like a frail and delicate porcelain doll who did not know any better, once again.

He was not frail.

He was not delicate.

And he was also not anywhere near ignorant.

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Alpha Jeon asked eventually, tiredly taking a seat when he realised that Alpha Kim was not about to open his mouth any time soon.

"How else, Alpha Jeon," Alpha Park said easily, an eerie smile taking over her lips as she regarded both the Kings levelly, "Just like we have sealed our alliances with one another, of course."

If you would have told me that I would fall in love so hard, so quick with a royal-AU, I would either look at you like you are crazy or say...”That would have be one of hell of a story to get me hooked.” Most love royal-AUs, but I typically get too bored with them. Most take forever with the romance, others become too UNNECESSARILY angsty. The political aspect gets so tiring. This one though was the fucking JACK-POT.

We have a royal-AU with both parties wanting to make the most of the marriage and go from friends to more, which I love and adore so much. Set in an Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamic world done so well. We have feisty, independent Taehyung who may be an Omega but sure as hell doesn’t let people’s narrow mind-sets get him down. We have Jungkook who’s the sweetest in the most softest of ways-and possessive in the most delicious of ways. READ. IT. If you love reading BTS stories, READ IT. If you love royal au with taekook, READ. IT. if you’re in need of a new BTS story, FUCKING. READ. IT.

3). Love Yourself Series by @profoundfelicity (BTS: namjin, taekook, sope, yoonmin)

Summary: Linear stories revolving around themes of love, self-acceptance, and understanding.

This is a 3-story series following various couples:

Pretty In Pink follows namjin

My Lovely Lilac follows taekook

Under Pressure follows Yoongi, JHOPE, and Jimin

This series, this goddamn holy grail of a series-I could not just pick one story of them. Had to say the entire series since it’s THAT GOOD. All stories connect to each other, so even though one story focuses on one couple, the side pairings and characters still play a massive part in them. All stories tackle sexuality, gender norms, trauma, parental abuse and neglect, self-discovery, self-understanding, self-love. ALL. ARE. FUCKING. AMAZING. ABSOLUTELY, RIDICULOUSLY, UNBELIEVABLY amazing. AND NEEDS TO BE READ BY ALL.

I feel like this series is painfully underrated, since not too many BTS-fans I talk to know of it. And it’s so good. I honestly learned so much about sexuality, the different branches of it, and the harms of gender norms, rethinking the gender norms through these 3 stories than all the years I’ve been in school. It’s amazing. And is so important during the turmoil we’re currently in. Also the writer is a fucking, perfect, precious cinnamon roll who deserves all the nicer things in life.

4). It’s The Most Wonderful Time (Of The Year) by @awjiminie (BTS, yoonmin)

Summary: Park Jimin is only three years old when he meets cooler, older, and smarter Min Yoongi for the first time, and is immediately enamoured.

For the first time in his entire life, Jimin feels an emotion he never thought he would feel: infatuation.

Not that he even understands what that feeling means.

All he knows is that there’s a small, pale boy at the front door of his home, right under the hanging mistletoe, firmly gripping his father’s hand and his mother’s skirt as he stares unabashedly into Jimin’s eyes, rendering him absolutely speechless.

childhood best friends yoonmin growing up together and experiencing the complexities of love & relationships, as well as, the harsh realities of growing older over the years, on Christmas day

OH. MY. FRIGGERING. GOD. Warning to all: you will most definitely need a cavity filling from the vast amount of sweetness in this story. It is that fucking cute and so damn good.

This, to me, is the epitome of sweet holiday goodness every person needs in their lives both during and even after the holiday season. Along with a nice mug of hot chocolate. Or something insanely delicious to go with it. We have yoonmin meeting as kids during the holidays and instantly falling for each other, we have side-taekook that comes along, we have the sweetest, most perfectly-done vmin friendship that just proves they are the definition of platonic soulmates (you will die reading chapter 3).

This story also holds a special place in my heart since I read it during a difficult time and needed some sweetness. Also got to know the author @awjiminie who is the sweetest, purest human being alive and needs love.

5). Fate Worse than Death by @awjiminie (BTS, taekook)

Summary: For an immortal, five hundred and sixty-six years passed by in the blink of an eye, as time was endless and life was infinite. Yet, for Kim Taehyung, five hundred and sixty-six years of a meaningless existence passed agonisingly slow with each second dragging on to the next as he waited for the day that he would finally see his beloved once more. His beloved who had been ripped from him just as they were on the cusp of freedom. Freedom to finally live and love together without any barriers.

Kim Taehyung lived every day feeling as lonely as he did when he lost him, even when he had his coven to call family, his maker, Min Yoongi, and his lavish lifestyle in one of Seoul's richest districts where he studied at one of the most influential universities.

But nothing was the same. Not without him. Never without him.His lover, his life, and his everything.

His Jeon Jungkook.

If I could sum up this story in two words, it would be this: HOLY. FUCK. If I could sum up the writer with the plots and twists and fucking cliff-hangers she throws my way, one word in my best Josh Peck’s voice: EVIL. Pure, goddamn evil. And I know for a fact @scarlet47 can agree with me on that one. But it is so damn good.

Once upon a time, middle school me, along with high school me, was the BIGGEST, die-hard vampire fan. You can thank Twilight for that. And also Vampire Diaries, before season 4 ruined it all. However, like most vampire fantatics, my love for vampires died. Even though I have read the occasional vampire-trope in fanfics with my OTPS, it was just okay.

This fucking story came out of nowhere and snatched me by my hair and didn’t let me until I got to the recent chapter. It reminded me why I fell in love with vampires in the beginning. Along with that, it also carries so many things I love, so many beloved tropes: reincarnation (which I need more of), enemies-to-lovers, a slow-burn that is so excruciating and so well-done with so many possibilities attached to it, the sweetest taegi platonic relationship that melted my heart. It definitely gave me Buffy the Vampire Slayer vibes, and those good, non-annoying alluring feelings Twilight brought to us when we first read it.

Basically if you love vampires/in need of a vampire story/love angsty enemies-to-lovers story, you will love this.

6). EPOCH by Sharleena (BTS, Yoongi, Jimin x Hoseok)

Summary: “It's kind of fucked up that we feel like this, don't you think?” Yoongi asks.

“Yeah.” Hoseok says, Jimin shrugs.

“Maybe we should take this as a sign.” he says.

“A sign for what?” Yoongi looks at the boy and his thumb is rubbing circles on the soft of Hoseok's stomach.

“That maybe we should stick together.” Jimin whispers.

Yoongi doesn't speak for a long time after that, eyes staring at the ceiling where the red lights keep flickering.

“Yeah.” he finally murmurs, words almost getting lost in the echoes of the music “Yeah, we should.”

Or, they are different, but they were lost and their paths still crossed.

Before the end of 2017, if you had told me that I would be into poly-relationships...there’s a good chance I will give you a look questioning your sanity. I could never get into them. To me, it always felt like one person was being the shared toy between two people. That all changed thanks to several stories, including House of Cards (SO FUCKING GOOD) and Guns, Knives, and Lace that were discovered by chance, were read, and completely changed my mind on them.

This story made me fall deeper in love with poly-relationships. So well-done, so-addicting, and you can feel the love equally shared between the 3 main characters who are all so different but fit each other so perfectly.

It’s the kind of story that’s so good, you’re stunned by the number of chapters.

7). Hear the Harmony Only When It’s Harming Me by @horsegirlharry (drarry, fem-slash)

Summary: Before the war, Draco was so certain of her looks, her breeding, knew exactly how to dress to accentuate her curves without ever looking cheap or tawdry. Now, her body feels strange and extra, like something that she’s forced to carry around with her, a lump of scar tissue that only fires a nerve impulse if it’s brushing knees with Harriet Potter over tea and stolen scones.

---

Or, Harriet and Draco finding themselves (and each other) after the war.

*lets out a low whistle* You know one of those stories you happen to find at random? The story you see on someone’s else’s favorite lists or their collection of favorite stories and become curious? Or, in my case, see a story with an intriguing summary and beautiful edit and you think, I’ll give it a try? And as soon as you finish the last line of the story, you are so grateful to past you for deciding to read it since the story ended up being one of the best perfect stories ever?

Well this is that story.

I know a lot of people aren’t the biggest fan of genderbent, especially with drarry. Even I who loves reading about fem-Harry or Fem-Draco get picky since most time you read a story with them, but they don’t feel like them. That wasn’t the case here. Despite the obvious genital changes and names, they felt like drarry. Personalities were right on point, their relationship development was perfect. It was seriously amazing.

I suggest you give it a try.

8). Pas De Deux by @julietsemophase

Summary: Harry has a show to put on and the last thing he needs is prima ballerina Draco Malfoy messing things up. But when Draco is injured, the two end up spending more time together and Harry wonders if maybe there's something between them after all?

Muggle AU. Smut.

Really, do I need to say anymore? Given how popular this drarry fanfic writer is? Given how insanely sweet and brilliant her drarry stories are? Do I need to say anymore more?

I will say this: Ballet-Draco + Stage-hands Harry= one very, very, very happy reader.

9). Say the Words (Say Them Out Loud) by @goldentruth813 (drarry)

Summary: When Draco gets assigned as the Auror to guard Harry Potter day and night, he is sure nothing good will come of it. But as the days go on Draco is forced to evaluate himself and things he thought to be true about Potter and relationships. Sometimes it's not love at first sight. Sometimes, first, it's miscommunication and misunderstanding. A story in which Harry and Draco learn to accept the things they want from themselves and from each other.

Again, we see the name. We know the name. We love the name. We love the stories. Do I need to say anything more? Maybe not, since again, we all know and love this person and her amazing stories, but I will make this.

One of the major things I loved about this story is the fact consent was a big part of the story, of the relationship. Safe to say, we learned, given the BS in the news, that sadly not too many people know the meaning of the word. Don’t seem to grasp the meaning. And this story definitely enforces it and I love it.

Also LOVE how she did this story. How she wrote their relationship, which was snarky and witty but not tiresome or too annoying. Also, slight spoiler, but the career Janel had Harry be made me so happy.

This whole story had me so happy, and I loved it so much.

10). This Isn’t A Dream (Let Me Love You) by...surprise, surprise (NOT) @awjiminie (BTS, yoonmin)

Summary: As captain of his high school’s basketball team, Min Yoongi dedicated all of his attention to his team and their games. His focus on the game never waned, not once for anything or anyone.

Well, until head cheerleader Park Jimin flashed his abs during a solo cheer and made him fuck up his shot.

As we can tell, I clearly gained a new favorite fanfic writer. Seems fitting since I did join a new fandom, aka the phenomena that is BTS.

What on earth can I say about this story? I feel like it’s one of those that you have to read for yourself to understand why it’s so good. Let’s face it, whenever we try to describe something and hype it up, it’s usually a fail and can never match the goodness of the story. But I will attempt.

First off, if the summary doesn’t make you the least bit curious, I don’t know what will. Does it sound like a typical high-school AU? Yes, I mean we have basketball player Yoongi and cheerleader Jimin. It is a typical AU? Nope, definitely not. There is so much humor, so much angst, so much slow-burn that drives you nuts and makes you wanna kill the author for the way she ends her chapters but at the same time makes you 10x more thristy for the next chapter.

Also for reasons I cannot explain, but because an inside joke between me and @awjiminie, this story seriously unleashed the High School Musical fangirl in me. I don't know why. It's hardly anything like HSM but every time I read it, the songs play in my head. Especially Troyella.

This is definitely a story I cannot recommend enough. Cannot gush enough over. Please please read

And thus concludes my top 10 favorite fanfics of the year. To the writers who created them, thank you so much for your wonderful stories. I honestly you guys share the fanfics you absolutely loved this year. Doesn’t have to be 10. It can be more than 10. Less than 10. Whatever and how many you love

#fanfics #fanfic recs #fanfic favorites #harry potter #drarry #bts #bangtan boys #taekook #yoonmin #namjin

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panticwritten · 7 years ago

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Breaking Furnace Book 1: Lockdown

Chapter 1: Before The Fall

Here is chapter one.

Table of contents!

All of my writing!

I’ve had to change quite a bit of formatting to post this on tumblr because I am a fiend when it comes to using different fonts and tools and junk in my writing. If you want to read this chapter with its original formatting, you can do so here.

The only para in this chapter that I didn’t create is Damon, and he’s from the Vampire Diaries because I can’t watch a single thing without the characters leaking into my daydreams.

This is a daydream from the Escape From Furnace series by Alexander Gordon Smith. Expect not to have certain things that are introduced in the original to happen, and also expect that if you haven’t read them that it might be a little confusing. And also expect that if you haven’t read the series there will be EFF spoilers.

My friends who have read this and haven’t read Furnace don’t seem to be having much trouble, but they haven’t really gotten to the involved parts yet.

Word count: 2195

Trigger warnings for this chapter

Suicide reference (very brief)

Unreality (imaginary characters and fantasy world)

Please tell me if there is anything that you need warnings for, and I’ll be sure to add it to my list. The list is longer than the one on my tags page, but trust me I would rather you check that I’m warning for something than than run into something that you would have wanted to be warned about.

Chapter two will be released Friday, December 15th, 7pm PST.

If you like what I do here, maybe consider buying me a Ko-fi or checking out my Patreon! I love being able to put so much out for free, but this would be a great way to show support and also see cool new content!

~-S-~

Sometimes, I think I should start a support group. I can almost hear the meetings playing out:

“Hello, my name is Jesse Perry and I might actually be losing my mind.”

“Hi, Jesse.”

Of course, I’m almost hearing a lot of things lately. For example, my best friend. I can almost hear him talking, I can almost see him, feel him next to me. I glance over, sure that if I’m fast enough I’ll see him for only a moment, but no luck. I suppress a sigh, unable to think of anything to say.

“If I’m making you uncomfortable, I can go.” As usual, the words don’t make a single sound, but they're as clear to me as if they had. I shake my head, finally peering at the space where Connor Sawyer should be.

Where he would be if he were real.

I should be used to this by now, of course, having been around him and the others floating around in my gray matter. At least Connor seems to care about what I actually need, rather than what I want.

I’m so busy trying to struggle with these same old emotions that it takes me a minute to realize that he’s waiting for me to answer. I jerk up straight and shake my head again. Barely moving my lips, I silently speak to him.

“No. I just got you back. I don’t want to drive you away just because I’m nervous. Besides, I’m going to need you here to get through the night.”

“You could have stayed home. There are already enough people signed up for this.” He laughs, and my heart aches. I shake my head again, just a fraction.

“It’s good to get out of the house. I’m supposed to be working on myself, right?” I let my eyes drift back to the window, watching the countryside pass by. The sun will set soon, and the cool shadows blend with sunlight. A small smile plays around my lips. “Besides, I know Ray wouldn’t want to deal with the others’ drama. I’m the only sane one on the Prom Committee, I swear.”

He has the decency to laugh, though I can feel a lecture coming on. He’s been gone for more than two years. In the week he’s been back, I’ve caught a lot of unspoken words in his eyes. I wish he would just say it.

“I meant to come back sooner.” My eyes widen. I wasn’t expecting this so soon. The arguments always came first, then the apologies later. I keep my eyes focused on a glare of light on the window as he continues. “I’m sorry for that. I didn’t think it would take you so long to find yourself.” He sighs, resting a hand on my thigh. I suppress a flinch, not willing to not feel his touch. “I should have been here for you. I should have been here when—”

“Stop.” I finally look at him, and he falls silent. When I speak again, the tone in my mind is cold. “Don’t talk to me about my overdose. You were gone. We both know that you could have come back, and we both know it was your choice not to. That’s fine, but you need to come to terms with it on your own.”

He doesn’t talk again for the rest of the bus ride.

~-S-~

“I know what to do to welcome you back now,” I announce.

We’re waiting outside of the school for my mom to come pick us up. The basketball game was boring, as usual, but Prom Committee earned almost $90. The sun is long gone now, leaving the school and sidewalk beyond cast in dark shadows. Connor hasn’t talked much aside from gentle encouragement whenever I started panicking. He still doesn’t respond, so I turn to him.

“We could go back into Furnace. I mean,” I stumble over my words a little at the surprise he directs my way. I can almost see his face when I concentrate, and I have to struggle not to back down. “It would be good, I think. I could use some closure, you know?”

Great, now I’m a liar.

“Have you been in contact with your brother since your last run?” he asks, not quite looking at me. He pretends to keep an eye out for my mother, which is useless. If I don’t see her, neither of us will even notice her.

“Yeah.” I shrug. “He’s just as bad as he’s always been. He’s not my brother, though. That’s not me, that’s — well, not me.” I scratch my arm, following his line of sight to see an empty street.

We’ve been waiting for twenty minutes.

The silence settles. When my mom finally shows up, Connor breaks it again.

“You act like another version of you isn’t ‘you.’ You’re the one that’s going to be running around in there. Even if it’s them that Furnace took into his family, you can’t accept some of us as a part of you and not others.”

I lose my chance to answer, climbing into the car and greeting my mom. We chat animatedly, and I don’t let myself react when Connor speaks again.

“I’ll think about it. You should think about whether this is what you want, too.”

~-S-~

“Okay.”

“What?” I jump, an ugly line scratching out on my journal. Damn it. “Thanks,” I mutter, flipping my pencil around to erase the mark.

“Sorry.”

He doesn’t sound sorry at all. He also doesn’t explain anything, so I look up. If anyone notices me staring into space, they don’t say anything as I find where Connor should be. His response is prompt, though unexpected.

“I’ll go into Furnace with you. Only if you promise that you aren’t doing this to distract yourself or—”

“Connor. It’s been two weeks. If I wanted to distract myself from something, it would be over by now.” He eyes me skeptically, but nods before long. I lower my gaze back to the journal, taking some notes. Connor settles himself in the seat in front of me, sitting backwards in the desk to watch me.

“And you have to keep everything in that world stuck in there.” I look up again, almost messing up my notes—again. He plows on before I can object. “The last thing you need is the shit that world breeds breaking into the Lounge.”

“But—”

“Either you lock the door from the outside or I’m not going in.” He points at a verb conjugation on my page. “There’s supposed to be an accent there, by the way.”

“Oh, damn, thanks,” I mutter, adding the accent. “You'll be stuck there. I can't do that.”

He shrugs.

He just came back. The Cube is still recovering from his return four months after the fact. He’ll have the mirror of myself I send to that universe, but me?

He’ll be gone. Again.

“We’ll survive. Besides, a locked door still has cracks we can talk through.” He gives me a grin, but I keep my eyes on my Spanish teacher. There are so many ways this could go wrong either way, but…

“Okay.”

“Well, alright then. There are a few things I need to set up before we start, so wait a few days.” He stands to go, but pauses when I murmur his name.

My physical hands are still on the desk, still facing forward with glazed eyes on the teacher. My mind, however, clutches Connor’s jacket sleeve, a searching gaze fixed on him.

I open my mouth to speak, but end up closing it. I let go, turning to pay attention to our notes again. Connor stays for a moment; I can feel him watching me.

He turns away and disappears.

~-S-~

“Leave me alone.” I shake my hands out, pacing and trying my best to clear my head. I need to build a whole world, which isn’t easy with a vampire badgering me all the time. “I know what I’m doing, and you can’t change my mind.”

I manage to tune him out, my eyes softening when they land on Dipper, my cat. My baby. His deep breaths sync with the pulse and sway of the growth of a new universe. I almost have it when Damon breaks the silence again.

“Just because I can’t doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try.” He watches me from the couch, lounging like he owns the damn place. “I’ve learned that much, at least.”

I stop, looking at him. Is it worth it to tell him off? He knows I don’t like talking about my overdose, but he keeps bringing it up. Even more so now that Connor is back. He wants to blame Connor so he doesn’t have to blame himself.

“I wish you wouldn’t use that as a weapon.” The words come out sharper than I intended. “You couldn’t help me either. Stop blaming him.”

I get a sick sense of satisfaction when he winces. I expect a rush of guilt, but it never comes. Instead, I return to pacing the living room. It’ll just take a little bit longer. Then, I can get the closure I need. I’ll prove that I’m not like Cross.

I’ll find whatever is broken inside of me and put it back together.

“So that’s why you’re doing this.”

I jump, looking up.

Connor stands in the kitchen entryway, leaning against the wall. Once again, the guilt I expect stays away. His eyes drift away from me and land on Damon. The vampire glares at Connor, and I sigh. These two have never gotten along.

“Eavesdropping is a bad habit.” I turn away from both of them, reaching up to fiddle with the key hung around my neck. “I have unfinished business and—”

“If you want to fix yourself, you don't have to force yourself back there. Don’t pretend you’re not scared of the place.” He drifts closer and ghosts the back of his hand over my cheek. “You really think we don’t see it?”

I don’t say anything. There isn’t anything to say. I, turn my back on him, sit on the ground, and close my eyes. I don’t know how people can handle only living in the one mind space.

I flick my eyes open to reveal a cool corridor lined with doors. I stand, though I can still feel the carpet where I still sit at home. I glance back to see that both Connor and Damon followed me. I don’t face them, walking along the hall instead.

Each door is sleek and new, dark wood complementing the stormy walls they interrupt. Overhead, screens flash the doors’ status, all red and reading VACANT for now. I check each of them, allowing my feet to wander on their own. This area of the Cube is far from the Lounge; it isn’t safe here. These halls move often, and it’s difficult to find your way out if you aren’t careful.

My footsteps echo, as do the two sets behind me. I don’t stop until I see a dead end up ahead. I’m too far away to see what the door at the end of the hall says, but I can tell that it’s green rather than red.

Connor and Damon stop behind me. Connor’s close enough to brush his hand against my arm, but I don’t look back.

“You can still change your mind. When you open the door, no one will be able to get out until you finish it.”

“I know,” I say, my eyes fixed on the green sign, on the door. “You talked to everyone, right? They’re all coming?”

With his hand still touching mine, I can feel his affirmation. I pull away from them both, ignoring Damon calling out to me.

“You’re better than this, better than that place.”

He’s wrong. I don’t turn back, my eyes locked onto the door ahead. This should be it.

“Please don’t do this.”

CONTAINS: FURNACE V.8

Finally, I stop in front of the door, my fingertips resting on the cold, dark wood. The door seems to vibrate, though I can’t be sure if that’s real. Connor stays at my side and his hand brushes against mine. I don’t take it, worried that I’ll change my mind.

I should not be doing this.

I glance at Connor, unsure if he heard that. He doesn’t comment, at least, so I pull my necklace over my head and fit my key into the lock. The dull iron key clashes with the door itself, and the aesthetic is pleasant.

Before I can think about what I’m doing, it’s open. Darkness churns beyond the doorway, and I can’t help but stare into the abyss. I would say that the abyss stares back, but I'm not quite edgy enough to talk about the In-Between like that.

“It’s okay.”

I look at Connor, and he offers me his hand. I look back, expecting to find Damon with another argument, but the vampire's nowhere to be seen. I let my eyes meet Connor’s before I face the doorway head-on and finally take his hand.

Together, we walk through the door. It closes behind us, and we don’t look back.

#bf #writing #my writing #sawyer perry #connor sawyer #maddart #madd #bf writing

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takaraphoenix · 7 years ago

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Book Adaptations Wishlist

Let’s start with my biggest fandom that is based on a book-series. Percy Jackson and the Olympians, by Rick Riordan.

I’m one of the... very few who likes the Percy Jackson movies. Most certainly not in the sense of them being adaptations of the books. Hah. Good one. No, I view them more as “motion picture fanfiction”. I mean, damn the pretty cast they got. I love Clarisse and Chris in particular. And I will forever be grateful to the first movie because without it, I would have never in a million years found the books simply because I’m not a big reader so the only way I ever learn about books is by watching an adaptation and deeming it to be my taste.

Now, things with PJatO were a little more complicated than that. Back before the movie hit theatres, I was checking out all the releases announced for the year and among them was this. The word “Thief” in the title caught my attention because I love a good con movie or show. I clicked it and back then the link only lead to the book and a section about it getting an adaptation, so that’s how I found out it was a book adaptation. Reading the synopsis of the book, I thought it sounded pretty cool. Next step was, of course, to check the character list. Because I love Greek mythology.

Main character a son of Poseidon. That’s cool. I love elementals, particularly those with water-powers. And there, not far down, was the name that got me hooked. Nico di Angelo, son of Hades. HOLY UNDERWORLD YES. Hades is my favorite male god. That his kid was listed as one of the main characters of the series - and NOT as a bad guy, because if modern adaptations taught me one thing, it’s that American authors love to paint everything in black and white and anything related to the underworld had to be the devil.

So Nico di Angelo was why I went to see the movie. Needless to say, Nico wasn’t in it because he only joins the series later on. But I did like the movie, Percy was cute, I was still curious to meet Nico, so when I found myself on a classtrip to Munich weeks later and was dragged from store to store and ended up in a bookstore where all six books (I do count The Demigod Files as part of the original series too) were on display at the time, I impulse-bought them.

I loved them. A lot. We’re not gonna talk about Heroes of Olympus here because that will take too many hours of my time. Let’s just say I don’t love them.

But yeah, the movies are not good adaptations of the books.

Then again, personally, I think that no movie can ever properly do a book justice. You can’t take a story that unfolds in like 500 pages of book and cram it into a two hour movie. You’re forced to cut sooo much out of it. It just doesn’t work.

That’s why I’m a huge fan of this new trend of adapting books as TV shows. It’s a very good way of covering more ground, taking things slow and giving the plot its due.

I’m desperately waiting for a good Percy Jackson adaptation. But I don’t want it to be live-action, to be honest. I mean, between Grover’s furry butt, Chiron’s horse-hide, the monsters and pegasi and demigodly powers, the show would need a huge special effects budget. And that’s just not gonna happen. So it’ll look cheap as fuck. Which would be an utter shame.

No.

I want a Percy Jackson cartoon show. I’d entrust DreamWorks with this. DreamWorks has done some amazing cartoon shows the last decade - Voltron, Dragons, Trollhunters. Particularly the cooperation with Netflix is working well for them. And with the team behind Avatar, like they’re doing with Voltron, I could REALLY envision a Percy Jackson cartoon. Imagine Percy water-bending like Katara or Korra, Nico looking like Keith in goth-clothes, I’d be dying to see that. Particularly considering that Avatar and Voltron use this beautiful 2D art style. I wouldn’t object to quality 3D like Trollhunters and Dragons, but I’d prefer 2D. I’m an old-fashioned gal like that.

To me, that would be the perfect way of adapting Percy Jackson.

Aaand I got a little lost in Percy Jackson. It happens. Oh well, I guess this is gonna be a long-ass entry then.

What I wanted to say was that I thoroughly approve of the TV show adaptation of books. I know I love Game of Thrones and Vampire Diaries and, of course as you may have noticed if you know me at all, Shadowhunters. All books I haven’t read (though I’m trying to read The Mortal Instruments. I’m just slow). I’ve just always been more of a TV-show kinda gal than a book-reader.

Now, if only they’d adapt the books that I actually love to read. That would be amazing. But somehow, I read stuff that doesn’t even get movies. Sure I read Percy Jackson and that got two failed movies, but we already covered that.

Because yes, I actually do read. Books that I haven’t met through their adaptations.

My all-time favorite book is Wicked, by Gregory Maguire.

I started reading it back in 2010 when I was doing an internship at our cozy local little bookstore - a very homey little place that was specialized on fantasy and sci-fi books. And Wicked was relatively fresh out back then and stood there in the special display and drew me in because of the green-skinned lady. I have a thing for green-skinned ladies, but that’s between me and Shego. So I started reading it during my breaks, when I had nothing else to do. Ten pages here, twenty pages there. By the time my internship ended, I was too hooked to forget about it so I bought it.

I saw its musical adaptation twice. Once in Stuttgart, the German version, and then when I was in London for the first time, the English version.

I love that musical as much as I loathe it.

The same as The Lightning Thief movie. And I mean it. Literally the same. You can view it as live-action fanfiction, but you can not with half-a-mind view it as an adaptation. It has as much to do with the book as The Lightning Thief movie had to do with The Lightning Thief book. That is to say, the characters shared the same names, but neither their behavior nor their physical appearance actually fit. And the plot, if you cook it down to a very basic one sentence summary - “Percy Jackson has to find the Lightning Thief” and “Elphaba Thropp rebels against the wizard” - fits, but do not ever dig for actual details, because those do not cover what happens in the book.

As a musical lover and someone who can view an adaptation as a separate thing from the source-material, I thoroughly love the musical. But as someone who loves that book to bits and pieces, I hate that the majority of people have only ever heard about the musical and are most likely not even aware of the book or haven’t bothered reading it and are now actually under the impression that all it is is a cheesy love-story. Which it is not. The romance is a foot-note in this long masterpiece that is basically a metaphor for the holocaust. And I will never be able to forgive the stupid fix-it shit of “Oh, Fiyero was turned into the scarecrow and they lived happily ever after”. No. They don’t. Or the fact that they turned my favorite character into a vindictive piece of crap.

(Okay, so maybe I am not as able to separate the two as I like to think, but cut me some slack they turned Elphaba’s trusted friend into a literal heartless tin-man who wants to slaughter her. What the fuck is that even.)

And I got lost again.

So, yes, I want a Wicked adaptation done right. A TV-show. After all, this is a book that literally covers her entire life, from birth to death. It tells a pretty long story and I’d like to see it done right, instead of turned into a high school musical love drama, as the musical did. Not to mention I want to see the polyamorous relationship between Elphaba’s parents and Turtle Heart, maybe if we take more time for her childhood, we’d get more feels for the threesome too. Her two gay friends Crope and Tibbett. Her own “maybe not quite just friends” with Glinda. Her bisexual son who was entirely cut out of the musical. I mean, maybe we cut the girl out who married the Cowardly Lion, but uh they never had sex because she was a rape survivor who had no interest of ever having sex again - perhaps was even asexual, though it was never explicitely stated in the books - and only married him for safety reasons and all that did connect them was deep friendship?

I’d also like to mention my favorite book-series - while Wicked is my favorite book and its direct sequel Son of a Witch might be the only book I ever read within a literal day because I couldn’t put it down, the third and fourth books were a little on the... drawn out and exhausting side of things.

The Bartimaeus-series by Jonathan Stroud.

Bartimaeus is my favorite book-series, because it is - from start to finish - perfection. And Bartimaeus himself is a sassy little shit. We’d definitely need voice-over narration to not forget his sass. Can’t decide if I’d want it as a cartoon or as a live-action show though. But either way, I’d kiss the feet of the person who would fucking finally decide to adapt that book-series. I mean, seriously, among all the many, many shows and all the many, many adaptations these days, how has no oneever thought about giving this book any form of adaptation? It deserves it. It really does deserve a good adaptation.

And then there’s just one more. My favorite childhood books.

The Woodland Folk, by Tony Wolf.

I don’t think many people have ever even heard of this. It’s from an Italian author and as a child, I only owned two out of the twelve books that existed. But they were my most often read books. I knew them by heart, literally.

I later on, as a teen, bought the missing ten books on the internet and devoured them.

Those books are the reason I got hooked on fantasy, why I am obsessed with fairies and mermaids and witches. Tony Wolf’s illustrations in those books are the reason I always wanted to draw. They are beautiful and sweet and they would make for an amazing cartoon.

I know out of all of those books on this wish-list, this is the one that’s most far-out-there and will probably never happen, but I’d be ridiculously happy if it did.

#percy jackson and the olympians #pjato #pjo #wicked #the woodland folk #bartimaeus #please netflix turn them all into shows?#and some of them into cartoons?#i vote for a percy jackson cartoon #dreamworks #no more movie-adaptations of books please #gregory maguire #tony wolf #jonathan stroud #rick riordan #book adaptations #pjoverse #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #Heroes of Olympus

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surveysonfleek · 7 years ago

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365.

5000 Question Survey Pt. 7

601. Do you have a lust for life? i wouldn’t say so lol. 602. Do you want to get more out of life? experience and memories i guess. 603. Would you want to learn to: Convert to Buddhism? no. Cure a hangover? i kinda already know this one. Lie persuasively? i don’t lie often, so no. 604. What character from a movie is most like you? i’m blank right now. 605. Are you comfortable with the idea of your own death? not really.

606. How do you feel about arranged marriages? i understand it’s cultural but it sucks. especially if either parties have experienced love before. 607. What do you hate that everyone else seems to like? olives. 608. What do you like that others seem to hate? surveys lol. 609. If you had to be named after a month, which month would you pick? august. 610. Is time more like a highway or a meadow to you? it’s a damn highway. 611. What is your favorite movie? i have a ton. 612. Which would you choose to be back in the day: a warrior, an alchemist, a minstrel, a bard, an oracle, a peasant, or a merchant? probably a merchant. 613. What is your favorite song lyric? i don’t have one. 614. What will you never run out of? love. 615. If you could force someone to fall madly in love with you, (anyone you choose) would you do it? no, i’d hate knowing that it’s not genuine. 616. Have you ever seen the Disney movie The Black Cauldron? no. 617. Have you ever read The Black Cauldron by Alexander Lloyd (or any of his other books in the Prydain Chronicles)? no. 618. Have you ever written a paper the night before it was due? How about the day it was due? yeah but i had already started it beforehand. 619. Is there a movie you have watched so many times that you can quote it line for line? yes, def mean girls lol. 620. What is your favorite season? autumn. 621. Do you mind being described as cute? i don’t mind but why lol. 622. What is the tackiest object in your home? i’m not quite sure...there’s definitely something. 623. What do you think people are most ignorant towards? things that they haven’t experienced. 624. What is it that makes you an interesting person? i guess it depends on the person, if we have similarities i guess i could be interesting. 625. What makes other people interesting to you? just their life stories i guess. 626. How open to suggestion are you? always. it doesn’t mean i’ll follow it though. 627. Is Michael Jackson black or white? black. 628. Are you often lonely? not often. 629. What’s the most unusual pet you’ve ever had? a fish? nothing crazy. 630. Have you ever threatened an authority figure? no. 631. If you had to choose would you rather make all your decisions henceforth with your head only or with your heart only? haha shit. heart i think. 632. How imaginative are you? not crazy imaginative. 633. Do you like the Counting Crows? no. 634. If you took this survey from the diary (5000 Q Survey V2.0) did you note me so I could read it? ok. 635. Are you more tense or laid back? i get to both extremes so it’s weird. 636. Does your happiness depend on anyone else, or are you happy no matter what any one says or does? it can be both. 637. What do you think of the idea of putting the bible into the format of a fashion magazine to attract the interest of teenagers? haha kinda weird. why fashion? maybe as a normal magazine format. 638. How often do you drink to get drunk? about once a month. sometimes less. 639. Would you consider yourself to be diplomatic? yes. 640. Do you think that most of the classes you have taken were taught in such a way as to make plain the relevance of the subject matter in your everyday life? not at all. 641. Do you remember Crystal Pepsi? no. 642. When was the last time you spent a night away from home? two weeks ago. 643. Some people say that there is no such thing as a stupid question. Is that true? i don’t agree. 644. What is the most interesting TV channel? discovery channel. 645. Name one song you could live without hearing ever again: that watch me whip watch me nae nae song lol. 646. Do your pets understand you when you talk? probably not. maybe just my body language. 647. What are three things you HAVE NOT done that might surprise people? i’m an open book so i don’t think i could really surprise anyone that knows me. 648. Have you ever had a secret admirer? no. 649. Have you been to a museum this year? yes. 650. Do you ever watch porn? i have before but i don’t regularly. 651. Do you think that it would be a good idea if people served in the army, navy or air force for a while before they were allowed to vote? umm idk. 652. If you were required to do this to vote, would you? idk. it depends how informed i was. 653. Do people often give you weird looks? not that i notice or care. 654. Do like Japanese cooking? yes, one of my faves. 655. Do you care for stray animals? no. 656. Which animated movies have you seen and what did you think of them: A Charlie Brown Christmas A Garfield Halloween The Secret of Nimh The Last Unicorn The original Lord of the Rings cartoons lmao none. 657. Are you ambidextrous (equally good at using both hands)? nah. i mean i can use my left hand for stuff but it’s not perfect. 658. Do you always say; “bless you” after someone sneezes, or do you hesitate? if i know them i’ll say it. 659. If you and your friends could go away for 2 days over Halloween weekend where would you go? a secluded beach house somewhere. 660. Which of these animated movies have you seen and what did you think of them: Watership Down As the Wind Blows Grave of the Fireflies How the Grinch Stole Christmas Spirited Away i’ve seen two but don’t remember them. 661. Do you feel that society is male dominated, female dominated, or neutral? let’s be real, male are still dominant. i hop this changes in my lifetime. 662. What words offend you? i hate when people say the n-word, especially if they’re not entitled too. it’s so cringey and embarassing. 663. They’re just words. Can you get over it? nope. 664. Have you ever looked into different religions? i’ve learnt about them i guess. 665. Which ones have you looked into? all. 666. What do you think of Satanism as a religion? idk. i don’t know much about that one. 667. Do you like it better when your classes are taught sitting in rows or sitting in a circle? rows. 668. Have you ever read your own tarot cards? nope. 669. Which ones do you like better, the three old star wars movies or the 2 new ones? i don’t watch star wars. 670. If you scream in outer space does it make a sound? no idea. 671. If you saw The Queen of the Damned did you want to be a vampire/Goth afterwards? i didn’t watch it. 672. If you saw SLC Punk did you want to be punk afterwards? - 673. What is your favorite zombie movie? - 674. Best kids birthday party: ceramics, chuck-e-cheese, roller rink, bowling, sleep over, movie theater all of them are pretty cool tbh. 675. What were your parties like when you were a kid? i had some at home with a jumping castle, mcdonalds, parks etc. 676. Best teen (about 15-16) birthday party: ceramics, chuck-e-cheese, roller rink, bowling, sleep over, movie theater, house party, catered in a hall, restaurant, family trip, concert house party or restaurant. 677. What are/were your 15-16 year old parties like? everyone has either movies, house parties or restaurant birthdays lol. 678. Best 18th birthday party: ceramics, chuck-e-cheese, roller rink, bowling, sleep over, movie theater, house party, catered in a hall, restaurant, family trip, concert, club, pool hall, college party club. 679. If you are 18 what was your party like? i went clubbing. 680. Best 21st birthday party: ceramics, chuck-e-cheese, roller rink, bowling, sleep over, movie theater, house party, catered in a hall, restaurant, family trip, concert, club, pool hall, college party, bar, Atlantic city/Las Vegas trip a vegas trip would’ve been amazing. 681. If you saw The Craft were you interested in wicca/paganism/magic afterwards? sorta but i didn’t look into it. 682. What are your top 3 priorities? being happy, finding a new job and losing weight. 683. If you saw fight club did you want to get into a fistfight afterwards? i haven’t seen it. 684. What is your favorite smell? way too many to name. 685. Give everything below a humor rating (1 = laugh your ass off, 2 = lol, 3 = smile, 4 = lame, 5 = not funny, 6 = offensive): People falling 3 Rape jokes 6 Sarcastic comments 3 Blonde jokes 5 Dirty jokes 2 God/religion jokes 5 Long-ass jokes 4 Death jokes 5 Pain/sickness jokes 5 Animals doing cute stuff 3 Bodily functions 3 Knock jokes 5 Ethnic jokes 5 Puns 2 Ironic situations 2 685. If you saw Cruel Intentions did you want to have lots of meaningless sex afterwards? no, i was a kid. 686. Do you get at least three hugs per day? it depends who i’m hanging out with. 687. What should someone never say to you/call you if they want to remain on your good side? no talking shit about my family or friends pretty much. 688. If you saw Trainspotting did you want to do drugs afterwards? never seen it. 689. Do movies have a great influence on you? sometimes. they have to be good lol. 690. Do you have a favorite reality TV show? yes, a couple. 691. Are there certain roles that people are pressured to play in society or can they basically do whatever they want? sometimes it depends who your family is. at the end of the day everyone should be able to do whatever they want. 692. How does the 2004 Dawn of the Dead remake compare to the original movie? haven’t seen either. 693. Have you ever held a magnifying glass over an insect to burn it? i’ve tried that as a kid but it didn’t work. 694. Have you ever pulled the wings off a fly, butterfly or any other insect? noooo that’s so mean. 695. What would you think of a guy (if you're into guys) or a girl (if you're into girls) who wanted to take you to the park to feed the birds and look at the turtles and fish in the water on a date? i’d be down, why not lol. 696. Do you use public pools? i haven’t been to one in years. 697. Do you use public bathrooms? if i’m desperate. 698. Do you use public showers? no. 699. How old will you be in 17 years? 43. 700. Would it effect you at all if you knew that a very large meteor was headed towards earth that would impact in 17 years? as the time came closer, yeah.

#survey #surveys #quiz #bored #questions

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lean-mean-sam-and-dean · 8 years ago

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Imagine Dean Finding Your Sketchbook...

Word Count: Around 2500

Warnings: None other than fluff :)

Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam

Pairing: Dean x Reader

A/N: This one really ran away from me, it was supposed to be kind of short…but enjoy! Maybe this will appease y’all while I work on the new part of Through the Flames!

***This fic is pretty thrown together, I just wanted to give you guys something since it takes me such a long ass time to update

Summary: The reader has a sketchbook full of drawings of Dean. After a hunt, to the reader’s horror and embarrassment, she finds Dean with his nose in her sketchbook.

There was never much privacy in your life with the Winchesters. Every time you turned around one of them was always right there. On most days, that wasn’t a bad thing- especially on hunts. You knew they’d always have your back, that you were never alone. It was comforting really, comforting on those days that you needed someone when everything seemed to go wrong. Sam always had kind words of advice and assurance and Dean wouldn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you. You couldn’t help but love the fact that they were always there.

You also couldn’t help but hate the fact that they were always there. You’d started to develop a kind of sixth sense whenever one of them was nearby, you could just feel them lurking. It was more of Dean than anything, Sam knew enough to let you be.

Dean loved to hover. You decided that this was because he was such a mother hen, but you eventually came to another conclusion. Dean Winchester was sometimes too curious for your liking. You figured that at some point he’d learn his lesson because, as you had pointed out to him more than once- curiosity killed the cat.

As annoying as it could be at times, he wasn’t hurting anyone when he would lean over your shoulder to see what you were watching on Sam’s laptop. The one time he had followed you to yoga class to see where you’d been disappearing to all week wasn’t even that big of a deal either. Despite the fact that he could have just asked you, you dropped it and let him go with nothing more than a whack with your yoga mat.

There was only one thing you would not tolerate Dean Winchester getting his hands on- your sketchbook. You’d never had a diary or anything else of that sort but you’d treated the sketchbook just the same. You’d only shown Sam a drawing or two and that was the only exposure it had ever gotten. You shared most of everything you had with the boys but this was the one thing you kept to yourself.

It wasn’t because you thought you were a terrible artist, it wasn’t because you had drawn anything x-rated, as Dean had once suggested when you refused to let him see it. It was because it was filled with pictures of Dean. Sam had been featured once or twice but Dean dominated most of the pages. You hadn’t told him about it, not only because you were sure his ego would explode, but because you’d be mortified it he ever saw them. Sure, they were all innocent sketches, but something about Dean finding your sketchbook full of pictures of him was utterly horrifying.

The only thing worse than Dean finding your sketchbook, would be him finding your sketchbooks- plural. There were three of them including the one you were currently working on- all filled front to back with sketches of the older Winchester. To your embarrassment- you’d drawn him so many times you didn’t need to look at him in order to create an impressively accurate portrait of him. He was one of those people that were just fun to draw- not that you’d ever let him know that.

You laid long ways in the backseat of the Impala, listening to her purr as you worked on your most recent piece. There were only a last few touches needed and you smiled as you darkened the pencil lines of his jeans, following the length of his bow legs.

The three of you had just finished clearing a vampire nest and the boys were more than ready to get the motel and shower. If you were being honest, you were too. Between the three of you, you were covered in the most blood. Dean had even made you sit on an old blanket while muttering something about you looking like Carrie.

When you were satisfied that the drawing of Dean with a machete in hand was complete, you closed your sketchbook and slipped it into your duffel bag beside you. About a year ago you had started this habit. At some point, during every hunt you had gone on since you had started the sketchbooks, you drew a picture of him. Some were of Dean as he nursed a beer in a small town bar, others of him standing over the gaping mouth a desecrated grave.

Each one served as a memento from each hunt but there was one that held a special place in your heart. In a sleepy county in Montana you had taken pencil to paper and drawn him sitting at a worn picnic table at the county fair. He was smiling, holding three different kinds of deep fried food in his hands and as excited as a little kid. You couldn’t look at it without a huge grin forming.

The car slowed to a halt in front of the motel and you didn’t waste any time snatching up your bag and making your way inside. You quickly found some pajamas to wear after getting cleaned up and made it to the door of the bathroom just as the boys threw their stuff on the beds.

“Aw c’mon!” Dean threw his hands up, “You’re gonna take up all the hot water!”

You snickered, “Sorry Dean-o, you snooze, you lose.” You closed the door before he could say anything else. You knew the boys were just as tired as you were and decided to give them a bit of grace and shower quickly.

Dean threw himself onto the nearest bed with a grunt and your bag bounced off and onto the floor. Dean groaned. “Dammit.” He hauled himself up and strode over to the other side of the bed while Sam busied himself with his laptop.

He leaned down and grabbed your bag but all of its contents dropped onto the floor. “Are you kidding me?” He muttered. Dean was slightly afraid of what he’d find in the pile that had tumbled to the carpet. Who knows what girls packed in their bags? He quickly shoved your clothes back into the bag while trying to avoid anything he didn’t want to see. He was about to return a soft gray sweater to its place when he felt something beneath the fabric. It was stiff and thin and it took all of Dean’s will power not to take a peek. He looked over at Sam who paid no attention to him- probably doing whatever nerds like him do on their computers this late at night.

He really wanted to know what it was, and the more he thought about what it could possibly be, the more curious he became. He knew it was most likely wrapped up for a reason, it was private, and how would he explain as to how he’d found it? This had been in the bottom of your bag and there would be no easy way to tell you he’d been snooping.

Dean decided that what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you- it’s not like he’d be caught anyways, you took long showers. Maybe the sweater wasn’t even meant to hide what was inside, maybe the mystery object had gotten stuck in your clothes when you’d put it in your bag…and then the sleeves of the sweater somehow tied themselves. Before he could lose his courage Dean slipped the object from the fabric and found himself holding a blue sketchbook.

“Since when does she draw?” Sam turned away from his computer screen. “You say something?”

Dean shoved the sketchbook into his shirt and shielded the scene with his body. “What? No! I didn’t say anything. Nope.” Sam squinted in suspicion. “What are you doing?”

Dean shifted nervously as the tips of his ears burned red. “Nothing. I’m not doing anything.” Sam closed his laptop and stood from his chair. “Dean are you…are you hiding something?”

Desperate to escape the situation Dean attempted to turn the accusation back on his little brother. “I’m not- I’m not hiding anything. What- what are you hiding Sammy? I think you’re- you’re hiding something.” He backed up against the bed as Sam quickly approached.

Sam’s eyes widened as he stopped in his tracks. “Oh my god, Dean! Were you going through Y/N’s stuff?” Dean shushed him harshly. “Shut the hell up Sam, she’ll hear you!”

“Good!” Sam retorted. “She’ll know you were being a perv and rifling through her-” He was cut off when Dean clasped his hand over his mouth. “Would you shut up! I knocked her bag off the bed and everything fell out!” Dean removed his hand. “I was putting everything back in when I saw this.” He pulled the sketchbook out of his shirt and waved it in Sam’s face.

The younger brother still hadn’t the slightest idea as to why Dean had the book in his hands. It was yours, it was private. If it felt wrong to have it in his possession, it probably was. “So what? That’s her personal stuff, leave it alone, Dean.”

Dean stood with his mouth agape. “You seriously aren’t curious as to what’s in here?” Sam shifted from foot to foot but didn’t say anything. “That’s what I thought!”

Sam groaned. “I don’t want anything to do with this. Y/N didn’t say you could go through it.”

“But she didn’t say I couldn’t.” Dean reasoned. “Whatever, I’m not going to be in any part of this.” Sam reopened his laptop and sat back down with a scowl.

Dean rolled his eyes and opened the front cover. There wasn’t anything important you could possibly be hiding in a sketchbook. Maybe it was something like John’s journal, documenting new information and drawings of monsters he’d never seen before. So what if he’d seen some doodles you’d made, what was so wrong about him appreciating your art? Why had you hidden-

“Oh,” Was all he could say when he realized that the first drawing was of him. He wore a grin and that bulky winter coat with the big furry hood. Dean remembered this as a moment from a vengeful spirit hunt in Michigan months ago. Dean didn’t know what to say- didn’t know what to do, so he turned the page. Just as it was on the first, two more drawings of himself stared back at him.

He wasn’t even sure how to feel at first. He was so taken aback by the fact that you’d want to draw him of all people he could only stand and gawk at your artwork. Not only did you seem to be quite talented, but you had captured everything that made Dean, Dean. From the soft curve of his jaw to the way he held himself, it was all beautifully displayed upon the page.

“Woah.” Dean turned to find his brother looking over his shoulder. Evidently his curiosity had gotten the better of him too. “Yeah, woah is right.” Dean breathed. He flipped page after page, all of them filled with drawings of him, all from different hunts.

“Did you know she was doing this?” Sam shook his head. “I mean, she’s shown me a few sketches but not this. This is…these are amaz-”

“Oh my god.”

The brothers turned to see you in the doorway of the bathroom, face flushed red as you stared at them with wide eyes. “Where did you get that?” Dean guiltily closed the sketchbook and Sam chuckled nervously.

There was an awkward moment of silence until Dean cleared his throat. “I- um I accidentally knocked your bag off of the bed and this,” He held up the book, “fell out.”

You crossed the room in about three steps and plucked it from his hand. “That was private, Dean.” You said quietly, shoving it back in your bag. “It was wrapped up in one of my shirts, I know for a fact it didn’t just ‘fall out’.”

Sam looked to Dean and raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t seen his brother untangle the book from the sweater earlier. Dean let out a breath. “I know sweetheart, I’m sorry I just-”

“Just what Dean?” You turned on him with a glare. “You just thought that because I wasn’t there you could go through my stuff?”

“You’re right I shouldn’t have done that, but Y/N-”

You cut him off as you slung your bag over your shoulder. “I think I’m gonna sleep in the car tonight.” Dean caught your arm as you pushed past him. “Why are you so upset that I saw your drawings?”

You looked at him like he had grown a second head. “Are you serious?” Sam snatched up his own belongings and headed as fast as he could towards the bathroom. “I’m gonna take a shower.” There was no way in hell he was staying for that conversation.

“Because I’m humiliated Dean! You saw everything that was in there!”

“So what!”

“So every single one of them was of you! Going through that sketchbook is like going through my diary!”

It was quiet again and the only thing Dean could feel was shame. You shook your head and opened the door. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“They’re really good you know.”

You stopped in the doorway. What did he just say? Did he just compliment you? He didn’t just tell you that it was creepy that you had an entire sketchbook filled with pictures of him?

“What?”

Dean smiled and fidgeted with his hands. “I said, they’re good. Like really good.” You slowly closed the door. “You- you don’t think it’s weird? I mean I never asked to draw you-”

“I don’t think it’s weird,” Dean took a step towards you. “I think they’re amazing.” Another step. Your chest tightened. “I think you’re talented.” Another step. He was now so close his breath stirred the hairs framing your face.

Dean tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “And I think you’re beautiful.” He said quietly. Your breath hitched in your throat as his eyes traveled down to your lips. He looked back up to you as if asking for permission, you gave a slight nod. Dean cupped your face in hands and pressed his lips to yours. Your heart about exploded in your chest. He smelled like blood and sweat but you didn’t care- you grabbed a fistful of his shirt and deepened the kiss.

“I thought it would scare you off.” You murmured as you parted, resting your forehead against Dean’s.

Dean chuckled and you felt the rumble from his chest against yours. “Are you kidding? I’ve held a torch for you for years. A few drawings aren’t going to scare me off, sweetheart.”

You leaned back to get a good look at him. “Really?” Dean grinned. “Really.”

Suddenly the mood changed as he wiggled his eyebrows. “And you know, if you ever need a nude model…” You slapped his arm as he laughed. “You ruined the moment, you idiot!”

He placed a kiss to the top of your head as he squeezed you in his arms. “But I’m your idiot now, right?”

“Yes,” you wrapped your arms around his middle, “You’re my idiot.”

Tags: @hasta-impalasta @torn-and-frayed @ilostmyshoe-79 @faith-in-dean @bringmesomepie56 @deanssweetheart23 @impala-dreamer @luci-in-trenchcoats @curliesallovertheplace @chaos-and-the-calm67 @ravengirl94 @lipstickandwhiskey @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @effie-w

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wingsofkpop · 4 years ago

Text

Hiraeth - I.III: Don’t Bite and Tell

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatual!AU, Dark Magic!AU, Angst, slight Fluff, eventual Smut

warning(s): Mature language, mentions of death, brief accounts of violence, practice of ritualistic and sacrificial magic, blood and slight gore, etc.

word count: 5,1k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

“I’ve encountered a couple hunters myself over the years, but never one who hunts and kills witches.” Mark watches Jinyoung pilfer through the scriptures him and the rest of his coven members managed to pull together after Youngjae’s reveal of a possible supernatural hunter in town. A murderous one, at that. Jinyoung skims through another page, before shaking his head, “The original supernatural hunters were created by witches to kill vampires… I don’t understand why one would specifically track down and murder covens? Nor how they have the power to do so?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out now.” With Jinyoung in tow, Mark heads toward the edge of the cemetery. The pair soon reach a small gazebo adorned with overgrown vines, where Youngjae and Jisung are sitting on the ground inside, herded around a large silver bowl, inside a tuft of dark hair and a special charm bracelet that belonged to Nayeon. Jisung holds a squirming black rat between his palms, while Youngjae proceeds to sharpen a silver dagger.

Mark turns back to Jinyoung, “We’re going to perform a spell to track whoever or whatever used dark magic to kill Nayeon.” The vampire nods in understanding, leaning against a pole supporting the top of the gazebo. Mark takes his place between the two witches before sending a white-faced Jisung a glance, “You okay? Or do you want me to do it?” Jisung immediately shoves the rat into his awaiting palms.

Mark takes the creature without a word, offering the youngest witch a soft glance. Once Jisung turns his head away, Mark quickly breaks the rat’s neck, internally wincing at the audible crackling of bones, and nods toward a waiting Youngjae. Youngjae slices open the belly of the rodent, causing warm blood to spill down Mark’s hands and into the silver bowl. Mark watches the bracelet and hair gradually bathe in the thick, red substance, before discarding the dead rat out of sight.

At a call of his name, Jisung returns to the triangle, appearing a bit sick, and joins his hands with Youngjae’s over the bowl while Mark cleans the remaining blood from his skin with a nearby handkerchief. Their clasped fingers immediately begin to glow, allowing both witches to finally begin the incantation:

“Inveniet hostium et tenebrae… Inveniet hostium et tenebrae…” Mark rises to stand beside Jinyoung as the two repeat the chant over and over again. However, his attention is stolen away at the loud, rather hateful call of his name. A sigh of annoyance slides from his lips at the sight of a fuming Minho storming toward the gazebo with a frantic Lia in tow. Mark bids Jinyoung a quick ‘be-right-back’ before hurrying over to the newcomers.

“You let that bloodsucking bastard onto our grounds again!?”

“I’m sorry, Mark! I tried to keep him distracted, but he saw our texts!” Mark waves away Lia’s worries and points her in the direction of the gazebo, leaving him alone with the red-faced, angry-browed witch.

Mark releases another sigh, “I know you’re upset—”

“Upset!? Oh, we’re way past that now…” Minho crosses his arms, “Not only do you completely ignore my warnings, but you go behind my fucking back!? Last I checked, I’m a part of this damn coven too.”

“I had no other choice, Minho. You made it very clear you weren’t on board with our plan—”

“And why should I be!?” He sneers, uncrossing his limbs to wave them at Mark in frustration. “When have the Primes ever done anything to deserve our allyship!? Much less our trust!? You of all people should understand that!”

“Until Nayeon’s killer is found, we are temporarily working with Jinyoung.” Mark pretends not to hear Minho’s last comment, choosing to hide his budding rage beneath a blank, emotionless frown. “He wants to help, okay? And I want to be able to sleep soundly at night knowing that my people are safe.”

“They’re not just your people… and just because you think you’re all high and mighty for calling the shots doesn’t give you the right to overrule everyone else!”

“Are you seriously still on this bullshit?...”

Back when the coven was first formed, and before Jisung joined the path down witchhood, Mark, Nayeon, Youngjae, Minho and Lia all came to a consensus that the coven needed a leader. Mark was voted as such by the majority, which he knew, never sat well with Minho.

The younger witch shakes his head, “I’m just saying that you can be a little out of tact with your emotions when it comes to situations like this—”

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean!?” Mark hisses, unable to hold back the floodgates of his own impending temper. Minho buries his face in his palms, murmuring nonsense while pacing back and forth. He resembles a mad-man, is Mark’s main thought, before he slowly removes his hands and murmurs:

“I’m only trying to prevent a repeat of what happened last time.”

“I won’t let that happen.” Mark growls, “Things are different now. We’re stronger.”

“You say that now, until another one of our people ends up dead.”

Mark frantically shakes his head, “Fucking hell, Minho! I’m doing the best I can here!”

“If you were, then Nayeon would still be alive right now.”

Minho spares one last glance at Mark before spinning on his heel and taking off into the direction he originally came. Mark calls his name, once, then twice, but Minho doesn’t slow his pace. With a heavy heart, Mark follows the younger witch’s form until he disappears behind the gate of the cemetery, leaving behind an even heavier feeling in Mark’s chest.

“Mark?” He inhales a deep breath before peering over his shoulder at Jinyoung. Inside the vampire’s black irises, Mark almost swears he can see a spark of sympathy, but waves it off as a trick of the sunlight.

Jinyoung gestures toward the gazebo, “They found a trace.” No sooner had the syllables left his lips, Mark is already beelining for the decorative structure. He enters to find the three remaining witches deep in discussion.

“What did you find?” Mark’s wave of elated hope expels from his veins at the note of Youngjae’s wide eyes and pursed lips. He glances between Lia and Jisung, but only receives the same disturbed expressions. He shakes his head, “What is it?...”

“It’s worse than we thought, hyung.”

“What do you mean ‘worse’?”

“The spell didn’t trace to the hunter, or an object like we thought—” Youngjae pauses to take a breath, clutching Nayeon’s bloody bracelet in the palm of his hand like a life line. “The one who performed dark magic on Nayeon-noona was another witch…”

Mark’s eyebrows furrow, “But that doesn’t make any sense? If Nayeon was killed by a supernatural hunter, there’s no way they can also be a—” Before he can finish his thought, the puzzle pieces thundering inside his mind immediately click into place. His jaw drops, but not as much as his heart, “...unless we’re not dealing with just a hunter.”

“A supernatural hunter and a powerful, traitor witch.” Lia groans, carding a hand through her already messy strands. “And to think things couldn’t get any fucking worse.”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Vampires. Park Jinyoung.

Those two things have been haunting the forefronts of your thoughts ever since you saw them scrawled so neatly across that yellowed page. You tried to search for more information, more elaboration, more anything, in Mayor Bhuwakul’s recounts, but that specific entry was the last, and the rest of the journal was as blank as a cloudless blue sky. Except you aren’t enthused by this particular emptiness, in fact… you’re completely fucking terrified.

It doesn’t make any sense. The diary was written almost two and a half centuries ago, so there is no possible way that Jinyoung, and his so called brother, can still be alive. But then again, it does make sense. If Jinyoung and Jaebeom are vampires—

What are you even saying!? It’s not possible!

You curse at the countless articles about the Twilight book series that come up in the search results, having dealt with this same issue since you took to the internet to find more research. There’s another thing—vampires are fictional, just like witches and werewolves and all those monsters that go bump in the night. All those creatures are just made up fairy tales to scare young children… but then why are you the one quivering in your boots?

“Mrs. (L/N)?” You nearly flinch at the sound of your name, frantically moving to close the cover of your laptop. Your tension immediately releases at the sight of one of your students standing over your desk with an expression of confusion, “Sorry if I interrupted—”

“No, no. It’s nothing important.” You quickly say before sending the boy a pointed look, “And what have we talked about? Mrs. (L/N) makes me feel way too old. Call me (Y/N), please Hyunjin.”

“Sorry, (Y/N). I keep forgetting.” Hyunjin smiles sheepishly.

You shake your head with a chuckle, “What can I do for you, kiddo?”

“I’m confused about this assignment Professor Park gave us yesterday.” You take the thick packet that Hyunjin offers, skimming through the many pages as he continues to explain, “I get that he wants us to analyze different elements of the excerpt, but I don’t get exactly how I’m supposed to do that…”

“How to analyze the story?”

“How I figure out the right stuff to analyze.”

“Well, the thing about literature is that there’s no such thing as the ‘right stuff’ to analyze.” You meet Hyunjin’s gaze again, tapping the tab of your pen against the front of his assignment with a shrug. “You could read a story and feel one thing, but then I could read the same story and feel something completely different, and the author who wrote the story in the first place could have created it with a different intent than what both you and I got.

“Think about it like… eating an apple.” You hold up the apple you brought for lunch, “You can just eat it how it is, or peel off the skin and just eat the flesh, or even cut it and up and put it into a pie. There’s no one right way to eat it—” Hyunjin intently watches as you place the fruit back on your desk. “—it’s the same concept in analyzing literature. As long as you find some sort of meaning beneath the words, you’ve done your job.”

“Thanks, (Y/N).” You return Hyunjin’s smile as you hand him back his assignment. He tucks the paper into his messenger bag before nodding at the stack of papers on the edge of your deck, “Prof has you over your head in grading again?...”

“If you think this is bad, you should have seen what I had over the weekend.”

“He takes advantage of you, you know.”

You raise an eyebrow, “You guys all take advantage of me, and I’m not even your real professor.”

“Somedays I wish you were. I learn more from talking with you in five minutes than listening to Park’s ninety-minute long lectures.”

“Hate to tell you, you and your little entourage would get away with a hell of a lot less if I were in charge.” Your eyes shift toward the students lingering around the classroom, most either socializing or packing up some last minute supplies. You recognize Hyunjin’s group of friends waiting near the entrance, acknowledging their excited waves when they catch your gaze.

Hyunjin chuckles, his own gaze drifting down to the notebook laid open across the surface of your desk. His confused expression returns as he skims through your hastily written notes before you have the time to grab them from view, “Are you doing research on… vampires?”

“I-It’s for a, uh, a special project I’m working on for the university… about the town.”

“Moon Dye Bay does technically have a history of the supernatural—especially witches.” Hyunjin explains, “You know, if you’re looking for something, or someone specific, I would check out the archives in the Town Hall. They probably have a whole bunch of ancient stuff down there.”

Hyunjin’s advice sparks a multitude of new ideas within your brain: The archives probably date back to the beginning years of the town, meaning there has to be some account of residency in 1770. If you can find Jinyoung’s, or Jaebeom’s name, you’ll be one step closer to ending this ignorance… or one step closer to finding out a truth that could change your life forever.

“I—” You nod your head, “I might. Thanks, Hyunjin.”

“It’s the least I could do. I wouldn’t have passed this class last semester if it weren’t for you.”

A call of Hyunjin’s name snatches both the student’s and your attention. Hyunjin shouts a quick response back to his awaiting friends before offering you a sheepish smile, “I should get going before they come over here and drag me away, but thank you again, (Y/N).”

“Just make sure you get that assignment in on time, or it’s an automatic zero.”

Hyunjin throws both a radiant smile and a playful wink in your direction as he heads toward the exit, “See you next week, Ms. (L/N).”

“Call me that again and I’ll flunk your ass.” You shake your head and watch as Hyunjin, his friends and the remainder of the students filter out of the classroom, leaving you to your lonesome once again. With a heavy sigh, you bury your face in your palms, thumbing away the pain in your temples.

Even if you do manage to find answers, where are you supposed to go after the fact? If Jinyoung is a—is not human, then everything you’ve ever known and believed is just… gone. Turned into a dust like the ghost of a forest after a fire. If vampires are real, then what other monsters lurk in the shadows? What other monsters are here? In Moon Dye Bay?

...What kind of danger have you gotten yourself into?

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

The taste of bourbon runs bitter along Jinyoung’s taste buds, only to travel smoothly down the length of his throat and settle warmly in the pit of his stomach. He lowers the crystal glass from his lips, licking away the remnants of alcohol that remain before gazing outside the large, rain-stained window. The silhouettes of foggy trees and foliage stare back, doing little to cure the racing of his thoughts.

A hunter and a witch working together to kill other witches… and to think that he had faced every type of enemy in the book.

Jinyoung has met thousands of witches over the years, some who were not too keen on working with others of their kind, but never one who actively goes around slaughtering other covens. It’s against the Balance of Nature for witches to murder witches. Then again, the practice of black magic is too… so why would a witch, who already has access to such power, strive to kill their own?... Less it be for more power. But even then, to steal another witch’s magic would require mass amounts of energy beyond energy.

And he’s only met one other witch who has been able to foster that much strength to do so.

Jinyoung releases a deep breath before taking another sip of his drink, welcoming the temporary calm it brings to his mind. He turns away from the window to head toward the desk in the corner of his bedroom while shrugging the suit jacket from his shoulders. After throwing the garment over the back of the chair and setting his cup down, Jinyoung unbuttons and rolls the sleeves of his white shirt to his elbows, providing some much needed cool relief to his bare skin. He presses his palms against the surface of the desk, leaning forward to stretch the tension from his arms.

He’s not sure whether it’s because of the alcohol or the rain, but Jinyoung’s thoughts can’t help but shift to you for what seems like the millionth time in the past few days. Since your encounter a couple days prior, you always seem to make an appearance inside his head. It’s almost as if he can’t be rid of your face, your voice, your everything… not that he would ever want to. Especially since he made a pact to keep his distance—for your safety, and his sanity.

Jinyoung moves toward the bathroom while undoing his button up, ready to temporarily wash away the stress and concern of the crisis at hand, when his bedroom flies open with a loud crash. He barely has a second to process the entry before his body is shoved back against the wall, a pair of hands holding the collar of his now torn shirt and a pair of enraged eyes searing into his soul.

Jinyoung raises an eyebrow, “This was one of my favorite shirts, hyung.”

“You better have a good fucking excuse on why you’re hanging around with Tuan and his pathetic band of magicians?”

“Couldn’t you have asked without ruining my clothes?”

“Jinyoung…”

Jinyoung releases a sigh of exhaustion, quickly realizing that Jaebeom won’t unhand him without an answer.

“The coven is being targeted by a supernatural hunter and a witch. Their seer was killed last week.”

“So what? You suddenly care about a bunch of witches?”

“Mark and his coven are the reason we were allowed to remain in Moon Dye in the first place. If they die, do you really think the pack and the league will still let us stay?” Jinyoung shakes his head, carefully watching as Jaebeom paces toward the opposite end of his bedroom—his expression growing more and more infuriated. “Besides, I’m taking care of it.”

“You’re taking care of it? Really?” Jaebeom whirls around with a scoff, “Did it completely slip your mind that these are the same fuckers who tried to kill us to begin with? Tuan and his alpha wolf bitch?”

“I’m just ensuring our peaceful livelihood here, hyung.” Jinyoung stands his ground, calmly staring at his companion. “You may not care, and you may not like it, but frankly, I love this town, and I want to stay—it’s our home for goodness sake.”

“You’re playing with goddamn fire, Jinyoung. Do you really think they’ve let go of the fact that we killed—”

“For fucksake, Jaebeom!” Jaebeom’s expression falters at Jinyoung’s sudden outburst and lack of honorifics. The younger of the pair tugs at the roots of his scalp before heaving an audible sigh of exhaustion, “I’m too tired to fight with you. Please—just trust me when I say that I am taking care of it.”

Jaebeom shakes his head, “How many times have I told you not to fuck around with witch business? Do you remember what happened the last time you—?”

“I’m tired, hyung.” Jinyoung shrugs off Jaebeom’s starting-attempts-at-an-argument along with his torn shirt. He feels Jaebeom’s gaze following his near-to-bare form as he enters the bathroom, throwing one last comment over his shoulder, “And last I remember, you killed Jackson Wang. Not me.”

Jinyoung doesn’t spare another glance at Jaebeom’s expression and shuts the door, cursing the fact that he forgot to grab his bourbon.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“Don’t worry about it, (Y/N).” Jihyo carefully maneuvers her belongings onto one arm, utilizing the other to open the front door with some amount of struggle. “Sana’s boss is making her work overtime too, so I’ll just hang out here with Momo and Mina tonight.”

“Yeah, I got her text.” Carefully shutting the obstacle with her foot, Jihyo continues deeper into the apartment, pausing every now and then to stabilize the phone on her shoulder. She manages to make it into the kitchen without any accident, heaving the Chinese take-out up on the countertop with a relieved sigh. “I shouldn’t be long. I just have to take care of some last minute stuff for Park.”

“Just do what you need to do.” Jihyo quickly adds, “And please, for my sake, take a goddamn Uber home.”

Your chuckle carries over the line, “You got it, Mom.”

“I’m serious, (Y/N). With my luck, you’ll land your ass in the hospital again.”

“I’ll be careful. I promise.”

Jihyo tosses her purse on a nearby table before running her fingers through her hair, offering a small smile to Momo who suddenly emerges from the living room. She nods, “See you in the morning then.”

“Yep. Night, babe.”

At your goodbye, Jihyo hangs up the call and deposits her phone beside her purse. She moves to unpack the bags as Momo approaches, throwing a sheepish grin toward the newcomer, “It looks like it’s just gonna be you, Mina and I tonight, so I hope you’re hungry.”

Momo hums, her gaze remaining on Jihyo as she goes about grabbing plates and utensils from various cupboards. Jihyo can’t help but shudder from the intensity of her hawk-like stare, but chooses to stay silent while laying out the food. Even then, her skin still continues to crawl, especially when Momo begins to mumble to herself.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that?” Jihyo turns at a particular murmur, tilting her head at her blonde companion. To Jihyo’s surprise, Momo doesn’t answer, but steps closer, practically caging Jihyo in the tiny kitchenette. Jihyo finds herself anxious at the lack of space. “Wh-What are you—?”

“You can see the tattoo.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Really? Cause I think you do.”

Jihyo shakes her head, “It was honestly just a mis-misunderstanding—”

“Look again.”

“I really—”

“Look. Again.”

The rational part of Jihyo’s brain yells at her to flee from the scene, disliking the borderline sinister expression graced along Momo’s features. However, her curiosity seizes the remainder of her self-control:

She lowers her gaze to Momo’s right arm, finding the same dark, supposedly imaginary ink patterned in various elements: Jagged tree branches, illegible symbols, and compass needles pointing in an unknown direction.

“What do you see?”

“I-I don’t know.” Jihyo presses herself as close to the edge of the counter as she can, faltering beneath Momo’s still approaching form. “I see a tattoo, but-but that’s not possible—”

“Wrong.” She gasps at Momo’s harsh grip on her arm, “You can see it… because you’re just like me.”

“What are you even talking about? Momo, this is—”

“It’s just like I said,” Jihyo’s mouth snaps open as her companion releases her hand to poke the back of her hand, causing the inked needle to spin right there across her skin. She doesn’t know how it’s possible, but somewhere deep inside her gut—Jihyo knows everything is real.

“You’re a hunter too.”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

There was once a time Jaebeom remembers where him and Jinyoung used to be close—a time where they used to be true brothers. The kind that were there for each other. The kind that fought side by side no matter the enemies who awaited on the other side. The kind that didn’t keep secrets from one another. Jaebeom would never admit it aloud, but sometimes he finds himself missing those days—missing Jinyoung.

A part of him knows he’s the reason for the distance that has wedged between them, but even so, Jaebeom is too pig-headed to willingly accept all the blame, more so since Jinyoung has burned his own fair share of bridges in their various lifetimes together. Some far worse than what Jaebeom has thought of doing.

Jaebeom never truly intends to hurt Jinyoung. He just gets so angry, and when Jaebeom is angry… he becomes very, very hungry.

And you just happen to be right there, walking through the doors of the Town Hall and into the greedy shadows of the night. The moonlight bathes across your skin, practically illuminating your body for his benefit. Jaebeom knows he shouldn’t—knows that Jinyoung may hate him forever—but just as with everything else, Jaebeom chooses not to care.

You’re being careful, he quickly notices, between the hesitant steps you take and the careful eye you keep over your shoulder. The knowledge only strengthens Jaebeom’s bloodlust. He can’t help but imagine how your blood will taste… Will it be sweet like honey? Or savory like a freshly-grilled piece of meat? His mouth waters in anticipation as he slinks closer and closer toward you. Like a predator rounding in on his prey.

Thanks to his inhuman speed and strength, it only takes Jaebeom seconds to immobilize and press you against the nearest secluded wall where even the brightest rays of the moon can’t reach. The scream you attempt to release is muffled beneath his palm, while his other hand busies itself with revealing the delectable skin of your throat. Your scent hits him like a pile of bricks, and it’s unlike anything he has ever experienced before. He grows frenzied, almost deranged by the fragrance, desperately craving more and more.

He easily counters your thrashes and squirms against his hold, practically suffocating your figure with his own. Feeling the thread bearing his self-control slowly splintering, Jaebeom parts his lips, runs his tongue across the pointed tips of his fangs and prepares to guzzle the pain away, when your voice slips into his ears:

“Don’t do this, please…”

He makes the mistake of meeting your gaze. All at once, Jaebeom can sense the tidal waves of your fear, your passion, your will to live just in the glittering rings of your eyes. It leaves him breathless, no longer controlled by his need to feed, and instead, floating amongst his own disarrayed thoughts and pent-up emotions that he only experiences when he chooses to embrace his humanity.

“Jaebeom…”

You know his name—

Jaebeom realizes at once he can’t do this—he can’t hurt you. Not when you’re looking at him with those eyes and speaking to him with that voice. No matter how intoxicating your aroma. He won’t hurt you.

Jaebeom grabs your chin with near-to-trembling fingers and leans closer until the tip of his nose barely grazes along yours. In a hushed, yet stern tone, he murmurs, “You’re going to walk home and forget any of this ever happened. You never saw me… Understand?”

“I—” He watches your eyes widen, “I understand.”

Jaebeom doesn’t stay to check the result of his compulsion, quickly stepping away from your body and dashing far, far away from that alleyway. He doesn’t stop even when he’s thousands of miles away from Moon Dye Bay, trying to escape this spell you cast over his mind. But no matter how much distance he covers, Jaebeom can’t outrun the lingering ghost of your gaze…

Jaebeom can’t outrun how, in that brief moment, you made him feel so completely human.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“I just don’t get how someone could do something like this.” Mark nods in agreement at Youngjae’s statement, watching his younger counterpart take a sip of his luke-warm coffee from his perch behind the lectern. “I mean, why take all these innocent lives—witches or not?”

“Some people are just… fucked up, I guess.”

“I don’t believe that.” Youngjae shakes his head, thumbing thoughtfully at the arm of his mug. “There has to be a reason, hyung. People aren’t just—born evil.”

Deep down, Mark knows Youngjae is right, but he can’t find it in himself to reply, silently continuing to flip through the old spellbook in his own grasp. This particular text has been in his family for generations upon generations. It was given to him by his mother soon after his magic began to flourish—the last gift he received before her death.

Due to the Tuan ancestral bloodline’s specialization in spellcasting, this book contains almost every spell known to witch-kind. He’s used its contents to defeat threats in various situations—this time should be no different. At least, he hopes so.

“If we have any chance at winning this fight, our best bet would be to take out the witch first.” Mark carries the large book toward the table where Youngjae is sat, setting the pages out for both of them to see. “I’m thinking we can halt their magic flow somehow, so there’s no way them or their partner can touch us—”

“So like a halting spell? Or a disruption spell?”

Mark shakes his head, “A simple halting spell won’t work. Not if they’re practicing black magic.”

“But what if we could pull enough power of our own?” Youngjae inquires, “I mean, with you, me, Lia, Jisung and Minho, shouldn’t that be enough to overpower their source?”

“Not necessarily.” Mark sighs, “Black magic is… complicated, but powerful. Depending on what or who exactly our witch is drawing from, we could be easily killed—especially if that is what they’re aiming for.”

“Right. Have you… heard from Minho? Since earlier?”

“No.”

Youngjae hums at Mark’s haughty answer, watching silently as the older continues to flip through the giant book. Upon reaching a certain page, Mark halts and angles his findings to better show the younger witch.

“We may be able to link their dark magic to something, like an object or even something alive. It wouldn’t necessarily block it, but if we channel it elsewhere, it could at least give us enough time to incapacitate them?”

“Will Jinyoung be able to take on both the hunter and the witch?”

“I don’t know.” Mark’s teeth sink into his bottom lips, his thoughts feverishly racing at Youngjae’s observation. An idea pops into his mind—one that replenishes a forgotten ache in his heart. Casting away the sinking feeling in his gut, Mark says, “The pack… might be able to.”

“Hyung…” Youngjae offers a sympathetic look that makes Mark’s gut lurch, “I don’t know if that’s a good id—”

Youngjae’s voice is cut off by the sudden slam of the mausoleum door, opening to reveal a dark silhouette emerging from the black of night. With Youngjae at his side, Mark immediately rises at the intrusion, preparing for a possible fight, but quickly relaxes when he realizes the identity of the abrupt visitor:

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here—?”

“Save it!” Mark almost reels back at the amount of pure venom laced in your tone, growing more and more confused at the blend of animosity, desperation and what seems to be betrayal, written across your face. “You better have a good fucking excuse for lying to me all these goddamn months, Tuan!”

“What are you talking about? (Y/N)—?”

“I’m talking about the fact that Park Jinyoung and Im Jaebeom are fucking vampires!” Mark’s blood runs cold at your response. At your next words, though he can’t see himself, Mark knows his face flushed as white as a ghost:

“And you—you’re a witch, Mark.”

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