#I wouldn’t even call myself ‘into supernatural’ but I accidentally thought about it and pieces clicked into place so…

[wsdalt]

basically I don’t want to cast roier as castiel just based on his relationship with cellbit. I’m sure there’s a faction that would suit his full character better, but I also don’t really know what that would be right now… maybe another hunter?

I find making aus conform too strictly to the source material doesn’t work too well, so he doesn’t need to fit into an established character exactly

you could make an early supernatural au with bagi and cellbit as sam and dean respectively. felps as castiel* and tina being a demon would easily fit there too (as meg I think? although not necessarily playing the exact same role as her) (I haven’t seen supernatural in years let alone early supernatural so bear with me)

the au would have to change the plot of supernatural a bit to fit with the actual qsmp storyline. I imagine the driving plot at the start would be bagi finding cellbit again and them trying to figure out what cellbit saw that made him run away

cellbit backstory: he ran away, still did the cannibalism stuff, bad found him and turned him into a hunter and it is now only through bad’s status in the hunter community that cellbit isn’t killed by any of them since they’ve all heard the not-that-exaggerated rumours. At present time cellbit is less into hunting for the joy of killing and moreso for the joy of research (and the joy of killing)

bagi fell into hunting as she was trying to track cellbit down—maybe a “help get research for a hunt and we’ll trade information” deal. no one really knows much about cellbit though because they don’t like to associate with him because of the rumours

*I know with destiel and all that it would be tempting to put Roier as castiel, but I don’t think Roier fits Castiel’s vibes much? Felps already has angelic ties through the canon saint stuff + it fits with his personality in fuga I think—the idea of doing bad stuff for other people, the “bystander” thing, the ties to an organisation in general + the fact felps can’t help but care about people he shouldn’t (pac) / cares about people (richas) even at the detriment to himself. He doesn’t have castiel’s ruthlessness in battle, but he has the “looking away from atrocities for the bigger picture”

anyway this is all I really have right now since I can’t remember the plot too well. not particularly going to write anything for it, just an idea I’m having fun indulging in

[b1ackcat3nergy]

I saw this and thought it would be fun 🖤

1. Are you solitary or in a coven?

I am solitary.

2. Do you consider yourself Wiccan, Pagan, witch, or other?

I just consider myself a witch. There are aspects of Paganism I follow and enjoy but if I had to choose a title I'd say "Witch".

3. What is your zodiac sign?

Sagittarius ♐

4. Do you have a Patron God/dess?

I don't currently.

5. Do you work with a Pantheon?

I do not.

6. Do you use tarot, palmistry, or 
any other kind of divination?

I enjoy tarot, pendulums, and reading tea leafs.

7. What are some of your favorite herbs to use in your practice? (if any)

Rose petals, elderberry, hibiscus, juniper, lilac and sage are my go tos.

8. How would you define your craft?to.

Oh that's a good one. I would define in as simply witchcraft. I practice my own gifts woth the gifts the Earth and God's provide.

9. Do you curse? If not, do you accept others who do?

I strongly believe in the rule of 3 so I try not to, and if I do I make sure I am putting out good to others. If others do that is their business, I am in no place to judge how other practice.

10. How long have you been practicing?

Since I was about 14.

11. Do you currently or have you ever had any familiars?

I do not currently no.

12. Do you believe in Karma or
Reincarnation?

I believe in karma, I believe in the rule of 3, I believe reincarnation can happen, but I do not believe it is the default for most beings after death.

13. Do you have a magical name?

Nope!

14. Are you “out of the broom closet”?

In-plain-sight yes.

15. What was the last spell you performed?

A spell to rekindle love that's gone cold.

16. Would you consider yourself knowledgeable?

Yes, but always learning!

17. Do you write your own spells?

On occasion.

18. Do you have a book of shadows?
If so, how is it written and/or set up?

I do as well as a hroloir. Both are pretty free form.

19. Do you worship nature?

I wouldn't say I worship it, I am thankful for it and make sure the Earth knows that.

20. What is your favorite gemstone?

Opal.

21. Do you use feathers, claws, fur, pelt, skeletons/bones, or any other animal body part for magical work?

I don't but I wouldn't say I would be opposed to it.

22. Do you have an altar?

Not a proper one at the moment (small apartment) but I have a shelf of my oddities

23. What is your preferred element?

Fire (it's my own). I like how it embodies both beauty and uncontrollable chaos depending on how you treat it.

24. Do you consider yourself an Alchemist?

I guess I've never thought about it. No?

25. Are you any other type of magical practitioner besides a witch?

Nope!

26. What got you interested in witchcraft?

My mother is a witch, as are many of my family members

27. Have you ever performed a spell or ritual with the company of anyone who was not a witch?

I have not no.

28. Have you ever used ouija?

Nope.

29. Do you consider yourself a psychic?

Psychic? No. Aware and ability to see potential outcomes better than most? Yes.

30. Do you have a spirit guide? If so, what is it?

I do not.

31. What is something you wish someone had told you when you first started?

There is no "right way" to do it.

32. Do you celebrate the Sabbats? If so which one is your favorite?

Yes! Beltane because ya boy likes to bone 😅

33. Would you ever teach witchcraft to your children?

Of course, it's in our blood

34. Do you meditate?

Often!

35. What is your favorite season?

Autumn.

36. What is your favorite type of magick to preform?

Anything consumable.

37. How do you incorporate your spirituality into your daily life?

Devotions, prayers, using sachets and stones.

38. What is your favorite witchy movie?

Hocus Pocus (I'm a basic witch I know 🤣)

39. What is your favorite witchy book, both fiction and non-fiction. Why?

Funnily enough I haven't read that many.

40. What is the first spell you ever preformed? Successful or not.

Oh I could never choose just one!

41. What’s the craziest witchcraft-related thing that’s happened to you?

Accidentally setting something a blaze and it reacting as if it was untouched.

42. What is your favourite type of candle to use?

Taper.

43. What is your favorite witchy tool?

Wand! I love my platinum and clear quartz wand I use it daily.

44. Do you or have you ever made your own witchy tools?

I have not!

45. Have you ever worked with any magical creatures such as the fea or spirits?

Yes.

46. Do you practice color magic?

I incorporate it.

47. Do you or have you ever had a witchy teacher or mentor of any kind?

My mother and aunt.

48. What is your preferred way of shopping for witchcraft supplies?

Local shops when I can, personally owned online shops if I cat find stuff in person.

49. Do you believe in predestination or fate?

Fate, yes, predestination, no.

50. What do you do to reconnect when you are feeling out of touch with your practice?

Write in my grimoir.

51. Have you ever had any supernatural experiences?

Too many to count.

52. What is your biggest witchy pet peeve?

People who try to push their own rules, gate keep, or scare others.

53. Do you like incense? If so what’s your favorite scent?

Yes! Bergamot!

54. Do you keep a dream journal of any kind?

Nope!

55. What has been your biggest witchcraft disaster?

Using none organic roses to make rose water and poisoning myself with pesticides.

56. What has been your biggest witchcraft success?

I consider them all to be success because even if they don't go according to plan I learned something.

57. What in your practice do you do that you may feel silly or embarrassed about?

I always feel a bit silly speaking out loud 🤣

58. Do you believe that you can be an atheist, Christian, Muslim or some other faith and still be a witch too?

Of course. Gate keeping is fucking gross. You do you babe.

59. Do you ever feel insecure, unsure or even scared of spell work?baby.

Haven't we all?

60. Do you ever hold yourself to a standard in your witchcraft that you feel you may never obtain?

Nope.

61. What is something witch related that you want right now?

A unakite geode!

62. What is your rune of choice?

I don't have one.

63. What is your tarot card of choice?

Death because every good reader knows he is never literal

64. Do you use essential oils? If so what is your favorite?

Yes! I love grapefruit.

65. Have you ever taken any kind of witchcraft or pagan courses?

Nope.

66. Do you wear pagan jewelry in public?

Sometimes a pentacle or pentagram.

67. Have you ever been discriminated against because of your faith or being a witch?

Haven't we all?

68. Do you read or subscribe to any pagan magazines?

Nope.

69. Do you think it’s important to know the history of paganism and witchcraft?

Having an understanding of anything you are apart of or want to partake in is important but being a walking text book isn't helpful.

70. What are your favorite things about being a witch?

The connection with so many things normal people will never see or know.

71. What are your least favorite things about being a witch?

Being an empath can be so painful. Seeing the auras of evil people always hurt me too.

72. Do you listen to any pagan music? If so who is your favorite singer/band?

I have a Playlist, I wouldn't say I listen to any Pagab bands, more so Celtic stuff and creepy compositions.

73. Do you celebrate the Esbbats? If so, how?

Nope.

74. Do you ever work skyclad?

Yes. I prefer to meditate nude and do most things in just my underwear (hot wax/embers/sharp tools + my pens = no thanks)

75. Do you think witchcraft has improved your life? If so, how?

Of course. I have been exposed to so much most people will never enjoy.

76. Where do you draw inspiration from for your practice?

Call me basic but it's true: The Earth and Mother Nature.

77. Do you believe in ‘fantasy’ creatures? (Unicorns, fairies, elves, gnomes, ghosts, etc)

Can you call them fantasy if they're real?

78. What’s your favorite sigil/symbol?

One I created for impulse control.

79. Do you use blood magick in your practice? Why or why not?

Only my own to create magical ties.

80. Could you ever be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t support your practice?

I don't think so no.

81. In what area or subject would you most like your craft to grow?

Healing.

82. What’s your favorite candle scent? Do you use it in your practice?

Vanilla reminds me of my Nana baking in the kitchen. She's Chrustian but she inspires me to be a good person.

83. Do you have a pre-ritual ritual? (I.e. Something you do before rituals to prepare yourself for them). If so what is it?

Yes! I meditate naked, burn some blue sage and wash my hands.

84. What real life witch most inspires your practice?

My mother.

85. What is your favorite method of communicating with deity?

Offerings.

86. How do you like to organize all your witchy items and ingredients?

Alphabetically.

87. Do you have any witches in your family that you know of?

My mother, sister, aunt, grandmother, great aunt, great grandmother, and probably everyone in that line of sucession. I also have a great uncle who was gay so I assume he was too being that I am one of the few males witches in my family and I am gay.

88. How have you created your path? What is unique about it?

I always put intention into things, you can carve a path through a mountain of you acknowledge the fact that as a magical being you can do it. Our biggest hurdles are ourselves.

89. Do you feel you have any natural gifts or affinities (premonitions, hearing spirits, etc.) that led you toward the craft? If so what are they?

Seeing auras, being an exceptionally heightened empath, seeing super natural creatures, and premonitions.

90. Do you believe you can initiate yourself or do you have to be initiated by another witch or coven?

I am a solitary witch my blood you tell me.

91. When you first started out in your path what was the first thing or things you bought?

Tarot cards! I still have them almost 10 years later.

92. What is the most spiritual or magickal place you’ve been?

Hmmmm. The house I lived in when I was in Kansas. But not in a good way.

93. What’s one piece of advice you’d give someone who is searching for their matron and patron deities?

Seek out what feels right. Do not listen to anyone who tells you that you "have to" praise anyone.

94. What techniques do you use to ‘get in the zone’ for meditation?

A bit if wine, some good meditation and honestly some good sex. Not mesacriky in that order.

95. Did visualization come easily to you or did you have to practice at it?

Practice practice practice.

96. Do you prefer day or night? Why?

Evening because I like times of transition.

97. What do you think is the best time and place to do spell work?

Depends on what you're doing.

98. How did you feel when you cast your first circle? Did you stumble or did it go smoothly?

I was young and stumbled. Don't give up though.

99. Do you believe witchcraft gets easier with time and practice?

Yes and no?

100. Do you believe in many gods or one God with many faces?

I am polytheistic.

101. Do you eat meat, eggs and dairy?polytheism.

Yes.

102. What is your favorite color and why?

Baby pink because it's my aura colour.

103. What is the one question you get asked most by non-practitioners or non-pagans? How do you usually respond?

"How does it work???" and "Oh so you're evil?"

104. Which of your five senses would you say is your strongest?

Taste.

105. What is a pagan or witchcraft rule that you preach but don’t practice?

Don't drink and cast. Ya boy likes mead sorry not sorry (that being said I don't ever do anything woth chemicals or fire while drinking).

[strvlveera]

Requested!

Thank you @jshk-oneshots for requesting!

Please go to her blog she is a very sweet and kind person!~

Also @toilettebound here’s what you’ve been waiting for~~

Warning: Contains trying to commit suicide

Isn’t Teru so pretty?? uwu

I’m sorry this is so damn long-

Didn’t Know You Were an Exorcist

Teru Minamoto x Reader

Kagami~Sama, that is who you were. A kind-hearted supernatural whose boundary was a mirror, reflecting peoples bad emotions to good if they wanted you to do so. Known by all humans, supernaturals? Not so much. All of a sudden all those wonderful titles withered and became horrid and detested titles, calling you the ‘evil one’ who harms anyone who gets in your way. These titles came upon you becasue of one powerful exorcist family. The Minamoto family.

They hated your guts and didn’t like the way you were being kind to most of the humans and supernaturals, one of them being Hanako~Kun. They believed you were tricking them with your kindess and beauty, even though you weren’t. Having your name tainted and reputation crushed you turned corrupted, leaving you to your (new) shattered mirror. Your safe boundary, your haven. Cold and alone, with no one by your side. 

You stayed like this for a few years. Feeling empty and scared that if you leave your mirror, they will come to find you again. After having plenty of break downs and crying for an eternity you finally decided to leave your ‘safe bound’ and live with the people who you once had cherished the most. Humans.  

Quickly, you fled from your cottage (that is now in ruins) and went to dwell where the humans lingered, trying to recall what memories you have left of them. Whilst running through the woods you spotted a glint of light coming your way.

Perfect.

With no hesitation, you got onto the roof of the vehicle ( a car ) trying to make yourself as light as possible so you wouldn’t have disrupted the humans driving.

The vehicle stopped which was your sign to jump off and explore. You hadn’t been outside your boundry for ages! The boundry being the mirror. The fresh air that you breathed in felt amazing but it was no time to go on a dander. You had to figure out what has changed since the past century. Having not aged you were still as beautiful as you were before the whole incident still looking young and fresh. People kept on looking at you while you were walking through the streets. This was gonna be hard to get used to and oh boy was it hard.

~Time Skip to when Teru enrolled into Kamome Gakuen~

“I'm finally here! After trying to find out what a computer was and how to use it I ended up enrolling to...” You looked weirdly at the piece of paper in your hands, trying to pronounce the school name properly

”K-kamum? Kamone? Ah! Kamome Gakuen, ” You finally said.

Trying to figure out where your class was you ended up bumping into someone.

”Do I hold the map this way? Or-”

”Ah!”

You fell on something, actually someone.

You opened your eyes to see who you accidentally tumbled into, only to be met with the most perfect blue diamond eyes you've ever seen. You didn't realise you were staring a bit too much. The stranger had to wave his hand near your face to regain your consciousness.

”Are you okay? I'm sorry I didn't mean to bump into you, ” He apologised, looking at you worryingly.

”Ah- no it's totally okay! I should be the one apologising excuse me for not being polite.”

He was first to stand up and lended me a hand. I gratefully took it while smiling at him. I dusted my skirt off and decided to introduce myself.

“Well, I’m [L/N] [F/N] and I hope we can become great friends!” You looked at him as if asking for his name.

”Oh uhm, Chikara Teru.” He replied. He looked uneasy.

We made eye contact again and then I got lost in his deep blue eyes, with him ending up waving his hand near my face (again). I just couldn't help it. His eyes are way to pretty for the world.

We made our way into the school building and we both ended up in the same class. Pretty convenient if I do say so myself. There's just this tingle in my heart telling me it's wrong to befriend a human being since it would be weird to tell him that I'm actually a supernatural who's literally over one hundred years old but just ignored it.

~Time Skip, 2 years~

( sorry for so many time skips ._. )

It's been two years since I enrolled in Kakome Guaken and Teru~Kun and I have become great friends but his popularity skyrocketed, leaving me in the shadows. I felt fine so I didn't complain to Teru about it. Whenever one of his ’fangirls’ would want to talk to him they always come to me first to ask for advice and I always respond with, ”Just be yourself! It doesn't matter what Teru thinks of you.” To be honest, it does hurt when they confess to them, only for Teru to reject them. I've always imagined myself as one of his fangirls confessing. I know he'll turn me down anyway so what the bother?

It's also been really hard not telling Teru that I'm a supernatural and I know he hates supernatural with all his might since he went on a rant about it. During that conversation, I stayed quiet while pangs in my heart erupted and I had to excuse myself to the toilet and cried my heart out. At that moment I realised that I actually had fallen for a human. No, no, no! I can't, it's not okay to. I'll have to keep these feelings to myself, even if they hurt me. At that moment, I heard someone come in.

”Hanako~san, Hanako~san, ” A soft voice said.

Is she talking about Hanako~Kun?

I swung the toilet door open and saw Hanako~Kun with a girl who had...radish legs? Huh. Hanako looked very troubled and wondered who I was but the realisation came to his face as he smiled widely at me.

”Kagami~Sama!” He cheerfully said.

That name still haunted me. My face went dark. Hanako was confused.

”Hanako~Kun, please don't call me that anymore. Just call me [Y/N].”

”Huh but why Kagami~Sama? I haven't seen you in years.” He said astonished.

”You haven't changed one bit!” He added.

At this point, I got quite annoyed.

”Just call me [Y/N] instead Hanako~Kun. Please I'm begging you!” I pleaded.

Hanako shrugged his shoulders. ”Whatever you say.”

---------

It's been two whole days since that happened. Hanako~Kun kept on following this girl callee Yashiro or whatever. Teru and I are doing okay, I still make so much effort to talk to him but only to be responded with a ”Sorry [Y/N]~Chan but I'm busy, ” or a ”Can’t talk right now sorry.” It really hurt and I didn't know what to do about it. So I decided to gather all my courage and confront him about it. That was a bad idea.

After searching for Teru you finally found him but not alone. Hanako was with him and it seemed as if they’re fighting.

“This is not gonna be good,” I told myself .

I quickly sprinted to the school roof to stop them. I slammed the door open to find Teru trying to destroy Hanako.

“TERU STOP!” I screamed. They all turned to look at me. I ran towards Hanako and tried to restrain him from fighting Teru with my normal form but it wasn’t helping. I looked at Teru for help only to see him holding a staff used for exorcism. I looked at Teru shockingly.

“Do you see now Kagami~Sama?” Hanako said.

“He’s an exorcist, he’s not fit being with you.”

My heart shattered and I felt tears erupt from my eyes.

“Hanako~Kun please leave,” I say sternly.

“Be careful~” With that he left.

It was silent. The wind blowing my hair and skirt.

“So, when were you gonna tell me your a supernatural?” Teru asked.

“Today.” I responded with hurt in my voice.

“Teru I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I-I thought you woul-“

He cut me off.

“I knew.”

“....Excuse me?” I say shocked.

“What do you mean I knew?” I asked.

“I knew that you were a supernatural ever since we met,” He said calmly.

My eyes widen and the streams of tears finally came flooding. Rage started to burst through me.

”What do you mean I KNEW?!” This was it for me.

”[Y/N]~Chan I-” he tried to speak but I wouldn't let him.

”So you're telling me that I've been crying and keeping to myself for nO REASON!?” I screamed.

”Do you know how many times I felt like leaving this school so that I wouldn't feel miserable or unhappy? I stayed though because of you Teru, I stayed because I didn't want to leave you.” I cried.

I stayed quiet after I said that as if someone had stitched my mouth closed.

”[Y/N]~Chan, I didn't want to tell you I knew because I thought it would've ruined our friendship. You were the first friend that I made which really boosted my confidence. I'm sorry if you felt lonely and miserable it's probably my fault.” Teru explained.

I looked up to him, his eyes shaking. I knew that he was gonna say something that I didn't know but I didn't know that it was going to be bad.

”Actually [Y/N]~Chan, I have something to say to you,” he meaningfully said.

I didn't say anything. Just gave him a little nod.

”My name isn't Chakara Teru...” He said

I was intrigued at what he had said, confused even.

”I'm actually Minamoto Teru.” He breathlessly explained.

”...........”

”[Y/N]~Chan?” Teru asked worryingly.

Minamoto.

Minamoto.

That was the family of exorcists that ruined me, who breaked me apart and Teru is part of that family. My eyes widened. I befriended my enemy. I felt suffocated, the one person I had to fall for was my enemy.

I chuckled to myself.

“Of course., I’m so stupid to believe I couldn’t finally be happy,” I sadly said with a small smile.

I looked behind me.

“[Y/N] what are you doing?” Teru asked concerned.

I took a step back.

Teru realised what I was trying to do.

“[Y/N] don’t you dare take another step back!”

One...

“LISTEN TO ME!”

Two....

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS!”

Three...

I smiled at Teru, and gave a small wave.

“Thank you for everything Teru,” I calmly said.

Teru began running towards me at lightning speed, reaching his hand out to grap me.

“Bye.”

I took a step back and felt the air engulf me.

“This is it,” I told myself.

“I took my own life for a human,” I chuckled to myself.

“How pathetic.”

Until...

I felt a warm hand grab my arm. I looked up with tears streaming down my face like a waterfall. I again saw those diamond eyes.

“I love you, [Y/N]~Chan!’ Teru screamed. Bricks of tears at the corner of his eyes.

“Please don’t ever leave me.”

He pulled me up, hugged me tightly and I started sobbing against his shoulder while hitting him lightly.

He stared at me then got up. Put his hand out to help me up. This was a familiar scene. I gratefully took it smiling at him.

“I’m [L/N] [F/N], a supernatural who’s name is Kagami~Sama,” I explained, smiling at him.

“And I’m Minamoto Teru, an exorcist.”

We both started laughing.

We looked at each other and leaned in.

My cheeks were hot and I felt butterflies. We were almost there when-

“Oooh, Nii~Chan I didn’t know you had a girlfriend?”

We both quickly whipped our heads to where the voice came from only too see Teru’s little bother and my kouhai.

~End-

I’m so sorry that this took a long time and it didn’t turn out good .-. I’m still proud tho lolol

There’s probs a lot of spelling mistakes that I haven’t seen •3•✌🏽

[purplesurveys]

907

Are you one of those lucky people to own a walk-in closet? lol lucky people. No I don’t have one of those. Is there a random object you own that has a huge personal significance? Well it’s more significant today because we had our virtual graduation this morning... so I’ll go with my graduation sash. Ever since I started university I’ve always wanted to wear my own sash in a physical ceremony so again, it sucks that our batch got affected by the pandemic. Do you use Google? For just about everything, yeah. Would you like to go swimming right now? That would be soooooo so nice. I’ve been going through old vacation photos and I really miss the beach. Can you play electric guitar? Nope.

Do you have an HDTV? My parents do. When was the last time you drank something through a straw? Around a month ago when my dad bought milk teas for me and my sister. Have you ever tried to teach yourself a different language? I didn’t teach myself per se, but I have tried my hand learning Spanish on Duolingo several times. It always comes in phases – I get passionate about learning and use the app for weeks, then it kinda burns out after a while. Right now I haven’t used it since I got sick in May. How long was your last phone call? A little longer than an hour, I think. It was pure silence though; we just wanted to hear each other’s surroundings. Do you need to repaint your nails? No, I never get it painted. Has there ever been a horoscope that came true for you? Psh. Are you a fan of industrial metal? Holy shit I feel so stupid right now. I thought this was referring to a literal kind of metal and I thought, that is such an odd thing to be a fan of...Google quickly taught me that it is in fact NOT a material for building infrastructure jdsskfjskf. Anyway, no I am not a fan. Are you one of those people who chew two pieces of gum, not one? Yeah, occasionally. I don’t like how one piece loses flavor all too quickly so I go ahead and pop two in. Do you have a wall calendar? Not since 2008. We only had a wall calendar in our old house; when we moved here we started to rely on digital clocks and our phones to tell the time. Have you ever taken the pictures from a calendar and used them as posters? I haven’t had a calendar like that, so no. I’ve done this with magazines though. Can you handle the cold? Hahaha no, I can’t. I was already in so much pain in 20ºC weather in Sagada, and I fared much worse in 12ºC Japan weather. I would still pick living in a colder climate in a heartbeat over a tropical one, though. Have you ever been to Canada? Nope.  Do you believe in superstitions? Just one superstition involving my university that doubles as an inside joke, so it’s not like I take it 100% seriously. It’s a generations-old joke that’s impossible to ignore if you’re a student, so I just jumped in. When was the last time you took a taxi somewhere? It was from the airport to back home, but I forgot where we landed from. Bohol I think? Palawan? I don’t even know anymore. It was so inconvenient I begged my dad that we stop using taxis as transportation for our future trips. Would you ever join the army, airforce or navy? No. How old is the person you last kissed? 22. Is there a friend that you can always rely on to get you out of a jam? I don’t think so. When it comes down to it they all have their own different things going on and I can’t just call them whenever and expect them to come to me, and that’s okay. Generally though, I think my most reliable friends are probably Andrew and Angela. What was the most embarassing thing you've had to buy? I’ve never felt embarrassed by anything I had to buy, but it can get a little uncomfortable trying to buy napkins when my dress or pants are already soaked. I get over it quickly though, since menstruations are normal lol. Have you ever tried to balance the light switch between off and on? When I was a kid. I haven’t tried it in a while. Do you believe in ghosts / supernatural occurences? They’re fun to think about, sure, and I do enjoy watching the supernatural episodes of Buzzfeed Unsolved where they go ghost-hunting. I like to think that they somehow exist, but I still also very much maintain my skepticism at all times. Have you ever mistaken a person's gender? I’ve used the wrong pronouns accidentally but I always correct myself and apologize once I’ve noticed my blunder. What was the most expensive thing you've broken? My old iPhones. I’ve also sported a few dents on my car, but I wouldn’t say I broke the car. Has anyone texted you yet today? Not text, but online chat. We had our virtual graduation this morning so my inbox was swamped with congratulatory messages and such. Did you stay calm during the whole swine flu scare? I did, but I mean I was 11 and had no clue how serious it was supposed to be. I remember cheering when they suspended classes for a week because of a local swine flu case, so yep – still ignorant back then. Is there a light on in the room you're currently in? There is, but it isn’t turned on. Are your feet touching the floor? Nope, they’re on the bed. Have you ever been in a car accident? Mild ones, nothing too life-threatening. Do you usually make back-up plans? Yeah man I’m so anxious I always have at least plans A-C lined up in my head and ready to go whenever necessary. Can you focus well in high-stress situations? Usually. Without the aid of mascara, do you have long eyelashes? I do. I get compliments on it all the time too. I didn’t realize it was apparently a nice feature to have until more and more people pointed it out haha. Is there a kind of music you listen to that helps you release your anger? Yeah I have a playlist that’s lined up with all of my favorite loud, angry punk rock music specifically for when I’m pissed off. Are you one of those people who keep their feelings bottled up? I can, particularly whenever I feel like it’s not worth it to blow up. Is one of your friends extremely odd but you love them regardless? Not really. Aya’s pretty weird but I wouldn’t call her extremely odd. Is there anyone you dread going into public with? My mom when she’s mad. Are you a victim of writing run-on sentences? For the most part, I wouldn’t say so. If I write a run-on sentence it’s almost always in an informal setting where I’m more loose with punctuation, like if I’m chatting on IM or writing an answer on here. Still, I try to avoid them and I never do it in a formal situation. Graffiti: an art or an act of vandalism? They can be both. Some people who genuinely just want to fuck around vandalize, like how I’ve seen “Mark <3 Erica” in spray paint on public walls or some similar shit lol. But a lot of graffiti are art as well; many have important messages or symbolisms to say. Do you buy things online? I’ve done it a few times. Not regularly. I like being able to see and touch something before buying it. Are you easily frightened? I definitely am but at the same time I’m really into horror movies and serial killers and a ghost-hunting series? Hahaha it’s weird. I guess I enjoy the thrill that comes with having those interests. Do you have a favorite model? Over the years I’ve loved Elizabeth Jane Bishop, Kiko Mizuhara, Taylor Marie Hill, Gigi Hadid, Bella Hadid, and (controversial pick!) Kendall Jenner. Have you ever watched Titanic? So many times. Honestly, one of my favorites. What's your current facebook display picture of? It’s my official graduation photo wearing my graduation sash! :) I finally changed it last Friday after I got the email saying I’m on the list of graduates. How about your IM display picture? My main IM is my Messenger, which also uses my Facebook photo. Is there anyone whose hair you envy? Gabie’s for one. Hers is really smooth and silky and wavy. Would you act in a movie if it offered a role? If I was going to be a mostly unseen extra in a blockbuster film and still be paid like $600 for it, then I don’t see why I wouldn’t take it. Does speaking in front of people make you nervous? Only if there’s going to be an unscripted aspect to it that’ll make me have to come up with answers on the spot, like miting de avances or thesis defense. If I have a script or even just a general gist of what I want to say, I have no problem improvising and speaking in front of a crowd. Can you read in a moving vehicle or does it make you sick? It makes me sick but it hasn’t stopped me before. Have you ever dated someone who was extremely shy? I’m the extremely shy person... Or have you dated someone who took things too fast? I felt that way with Gab at first when she wanted to have sex like two months after we started dating, though I was scared mainly because it was going to be my first time and I wanted to make sure I was comfortable. Now that I’m a little older, two months seems like a healthy amount of time. Does the idea of driving 220 mph sound exciting to you? Sounds terrifying. It could be fun, but only if we’re in the middle of nowhere where there’s loads of space to go that fast and no chance of crashing. Everyone has a weakness, what's yours? Food. Do you or anyone you know have an account on Deviantart? I had classmates in high school who had accounts but I’m not sure if they still have it, or if Deviantart is even still as active as I knew it to be. Thoughts on the Dunkin Donut commercial that says "America runs on Dunkin'"?  It’s a creative slogan but if I was American I wouldn’t want a doughnut place claiming to represent my country. It cute though. Do you bother buying movies on DVD anymore or do you just download them? I watch them on Netflix, which is still technically like buying them since we pay for the subscription anyway. Do you listen to Daughtry? No. Do you get your eyebrows waxed? I don’t. Waxing looks so painful to me. How do you take your coffee? Lots of creamer or milk, a little sugar. I like trying out different coffees, but when I’m simply relaxing I do want my coffee as least bitter as possible.  If you have a dog, what breed is it? I have an aspin mix, though we never figured out what Kimi’s other half is. And I also have a beagle. Have you found someone who makes you unconditionally happy? I don’t know if 'unconditionally’ is possible but yes, I do have people who make me very happy. Do you have a friend who always seems to be dying their hair? Not anymore. Jo used to dye her hair like every month though and she must have been able to go through the entire rainbow. She looked sooo good in each of the colors. Would you swap names with a friend? I love all their names but I don’t see why that would be necessary. Do you plan on going to university? I did. I graduated today. Guys who wear muscle shirts, yes or no? Idk man, they can wear whatever they want. Are you a fan of Carrie Underwood? No. I liked some of her singles when I was younger, but I’m not a fan in that I have her albums and know her lesser-known songs. Do you make playlists on iTunes? I used to, when I still used iTunes. I make playlists on Spotify now. Have you ever forgotten someone's birthday? I don’t think so. Are you scared of being left behind? Yessir. I’m super competitive, so I hate the feeling. Do you remember your last dream? No. I’m really bad at remembering them unless they’re nightmares or insanely strange. I do know that I dreamt while we were watching mass earlier on the television though, hahaha. Do you know someone who is an obsessed Star Wars fan? So many people in my circle are. Is politics something you don't care about? No. If there’s anything I give tons of fucks about, it’s that. What's a movie/tvshow/book/series that is way overrated? I’ll go with the first things I thought of...in that order: To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before; Stranger Things (it’s good, but not as good as people hyped it to be); I don’t really read anymore; and what do you mean by series? Just realized I only gave 2 out of 4 answers lol oh well. Do you think Barbie presents an unhealthy image to young girls? I don’t like how its physical features are still unrealistic; but I appreciate their attempts at diversity. I can’t say it was upsetting seeing a Filipino-themed Barbie :) Is there a pet that you desperately want? All I ever wanted were dogs, and now I’ve got two of them. Would you ever get your bellybutton pierced? Nope. Are you musically talented? Hahahahaha Have you ever shot a gun? Not a real one, so no. Athenna’s dad had this practice gun he used for target practice (duh) and I messed with that a few times. Do you have a friend that always changes their mind last second? That’s Gabie. She’s lucky she’s my girlfriend and that I love her, because it’s actually a big pet peeve of mine. Are you not afraid to voice your opinion? Yup. The only time I don’t say it out loud is if it’s unnecessary and if it’s going to be simply disrespectful. An example would be when my uncle offered to make me a carrot cake for my grad gift, and I just said yes because it was already generous enough for him to offer me a free cake when he runs a food business. In reality it’s not my favorite cake at all; it wouldn’t even be in my top 20. Are you one of those people who are always pushing their limits? Yes, I definitely overwork myself to the point of exhaustion and burnout. But I honestly prefer doing things and being busy than sitting around. Is there a word that you will always find humorous? Bubbling. Because Drake and Josh.

Do you frown upon immature people? Typically. Have you ever slipped on ice and hurt yourself? This may have happened to me once or twice when I was still regularly visiting the ice skating rink at the mall. People were always super nice and helped me get up, though. Do you try to have an intimidating impression? I don’t try. Apparently it’s naturally the vibe I give off. Living in the big city or chilling in the country? BIG CITY. Always the big city. I’ve gone to the country/province so many times; I already know what it’s like there. I’ll always prefer a noisy city. No one seems to obey the legal drinking age, do they? Hahahaha a lot seem not to. I know so many high school kids who’ve had a drink before turning 18. Do you like your country's flag? Sure. I like that we can switch up the colors depending on if we’re at war or not. Have you ever made a totally amazing snow fort? I’ve never even seen snow before. Do you use Bounty Paper Towels? No. Are you the one usually behind the camera or the one in the picture? BEHIND If you get married, will you have a traditional wedding? Traditional, yes. Religious, no. Do you feel you’re slowly losing one of your friends? No. But now that I’m no longer in school, I really hope I’ll continue to be friends with my orgmates. I’ll certainly keep in touch as much as I can. If you draw, what's one thing you always have trouble with? Everything about it. Is there someone you know moving away any time soon? No. I do know my friend’s sister had already moved and started her new job in California, but when the pandemic started she had to go back here. This virus is just ruining so many great things for everyone, man... Allergic to anything? Nope. How many cars have you owned? Zero. I drive one; can’t say I own it because my parents bought it. What are you going to do after this? Maybe take another survey.

[marshmallow-phd]

Charming Instruction

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Supernatural, Wolf Au

Pairing: Junmyeon x Reader

Summary: You were just an average, everyday college student desperately trying to graduate. Only one more year stood between you and that celebratory walk. However, due to an oversight by your adviser, it seemed that the one class you never wanted to take was required to take that walk. It wasn’t the subject matter that made you uncomfortable. It was the teacher. Your heart sped up every time you saw him and you didn’t want that distraction in your life, attractive or not. With meeting him now an inevitability, you swore that you would keep your hormones in check. But after your first day of class, a series of hi jinks and weird situations lead you to discovering the secret of your professor and why he seemed to bombard your every thought.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I Final

**

Jiyoung kept her attention on the road, not even silently judging you as she took you back home. You weren’t sure if that was because the two of you didn’t really know each other or if because – perhaps just a little bit – she understood.

The first words she spoke were to simply ask you where you lived once the city limits came into view. You directed her towards the student apartments and fell quiet again.

Outside your building, you unbuckled your seatbelt and softly thanked her for driving you the long way home. Before you could open the door, however, Jiyoung pressed down on the lock button, trapping you inside with a click. You whipped your head around, eyes round and wide.

“Look,” Jiyoung sighed, turning in her seat to face you, “I’m not going to lecture you or scold you or anything. I’m just going to say that I know what you’re going through right now.” A little sympathetic smile turned up in the corner of her mouth. “Your heart is hurting. A lot. But once the pain has dulled down, listen to it. It’ll tell you where to go from there.”

You frowned, fingers still glued to the door handle. “What do you mean you know what I’m going through? You’re with Jongdae. You’re happy.”

“I wasn’t always.” Running her hands down the steering wheel, she moved her gaze down to the radio. “I was in love with Jongdae for the longest time. All that pining from a far stuff. He – uh – kind of ignored me for a while. And when he was finally looking at me, it wasn’t all sunshine and fireworks. It took a lot a work, but we got there eventually. I just… I just don’t think you should run away quite yet.”

“I’m not running away,” you defended. “I shouldn’t have ever attached myself to Jun- Professor Kim. He’s my teacher and any sort of relationship beyond that is inappropriate. I’m putting things back where they belong.”

“But he won’t be your teacher forever,” Jiyoung argued.

And you wanted to agree with her. You wanted to say something about how – maybe after the semester was over or after graduation – then you could go back and listen to whatever Junmyeon had to say; maybe actually put up a good fight and tell him that you thought you could be good for him, that you felt something for him that was so deep and drowning you didn’t know how to describe it. But right now you were treading water, limbs tiring out from struggling to stay afloat. You’d found a life preserver and now you were going to cling on to that to keep yourself from going under.

Maybe… Maybe in the future, once you’ve recovered and pulled yourself up again, you could give it another try. You could put your heart a little further out there once your skin has thicken and you were more ready for rejection. But now you were shattered, too broken. You needed time to pick up the pieces.

“It doesn’t matter,” you told her. “I’ll be gone after graduation.”

She gasped. “But-”

“Please just open the door.” You tried hard to convey your annoyance and eagerness to get inside.”

Giving in, Jiyoung unlocked the door and you scrambled out of there faster than a wolf on fire.

**

After you begged him to let go, Junmyeon couldn’t stand there and watch you fade away.

Why wouldn’t you just let him tell you? Why couldn’t he have just told you earlier so all of this could be avoided? Why was he such a coward?

Why? Why? WHY?

Junmyeon let out a long howl before taking off in the woods. He didn’t remember shifting. He didn’t know what direction he was going in or where he was headed, just that he need to run. He needed to do something and this was the answer his instincts had given him.

His paws pounded against the dirt floor, pushing him farther and farther away from the farmhouse. Several howls echoed in the distance behind him, calling for their alpha to come back home. Junmyeon pressed on, ignoring the cries.

Around him the trees began to thin after running for who knew how long. He never tired, never slowed down, just kept going.

Additional paws hurrying to catch up with him beat in rhythmic sync some distance behind him. Then, a body much bigger than Junmyeon’s slammed into him, causing him to lose his footing and roll over several times. The wolf inside had taken control and Junmyeon leaped, teeth bared, at whoever the beast deemed a threat. He latched on to a neck, not paying attention to the russet colored fur.

Junmyeon, stop!

Two more wolves wedged themselves in between Junmyeon and his opponent, shoving him away. Just as he turned to attack again, his senses pushed through, screaming at him that the wolves were his brother. Kris huffing and shaking off the nicks left from Junmyeon’s teeth. They would heal, but in the meantime they would sting.

Why the hell did you pounce on me like that? Junmyeon growled.

Kris flicked his head to Junmyeon’s right.

You were about to hit the city limits, Chanyeol whined. No one there is supposed to see us.

Junmyeon blinked. Why did I come this way?

You were headed for your mate, Kris answered, his thoughts conveying the venom he felt for being on the receiving end of Junmyeon’s anger.

Your urge to stop her was probably too great in this form, Yixing added. Your feet took you where your logic wouldn’t.

Junmyeon let out something that somewhat resembled a sigh. I’m sorry, guys. I just… He couldn’t finish that thought. Turning to Kris, he thought instead, You should be at home resting. You barely have energy as it is.

Kris had mastered “the look” in wolf form years ago. I’m fine. Making sure you don’t expose all of us by making a scene is more important.

It took will power for Junmyeon not to snap back. Instead, he huffed, looking at the boys who came after him. Never had he been so thankful for their loyalty that stopped him from doing something incredibly stupid.

Come on, Kris flicked his head in the direction of the farmhouse with that natural authority Junmyeon always envied. Let’s get out of here before we’re spotted.

Reluctantly, Junmyeon agreed and everyone started slowly moving away from the tree line. Before they could get too far away, he paused, turning to look behind him once more as if you would miraculously know that he was there and come running to him. He messed everything up after having it all land perfectly in his lap. You were everything to him and yet – with mistake after mistake – he let you down.

Hanging his head, he walked on, fearful for the pain that would be awaiting him soon.

**

Cam and Gemma nearly broke down when you came shuffling through the door. Apparently, they’d made it back to the apartment last night but didn’t realize you weren’t with them until they woke up this morning. They were just about to call the police when you walked in, dropping their phones to come suffocate you in their overbearing hugs. At least, that was what you could understand from as they were talking at the same time.

“Oh my god, I thought you were kidnapped!” Gemma sniffed your ear.

Pulling back, Cam was a bit more aggressive. “Why the hell did you leave?”

You shrugged. “Junie showed up. I – um, I accidentally drunk texted him and he came to get me. I guess he didn’t like the idea of me being at the SAE house. I crashed at his place.”

Gemma let you go to get a better look at you. “That Junie guy actually had the nerve to show up?”

“What gave him the right to decide whether or not you could be there?” Cam snapped.

“It wasn’t like that,” you mumbled. You didn’t want to have this conversation. Mostly because – despite everything else – you were a little thankful he’d come to get you. Who knows what could have happened. You didn’t get that wasted very often and the fact that you couldn’t remember chunks of last night – despite no harm coming to you – freaked you out. “I wanted to leave with him.”

Shaking her head, Gemma crossed her arms while giving you a look of pity. “Oh, (y/n)-”

“Don’t!” You snapped. You were not going to stand there and take another psycho-analyzed lecture. “I’m not going to see him again. I’m moving on with my life and that’s the end of it. So, don’t go all ‘shrink’ on me.”

Cam’s mouth dropped. “(y/n)-”

“Just leave me alone.” You pushed through your friends to your room. Throwing yourself on your bed, you clung to your pillow, wrapping around it like a child with their safety blanket.

You did exactly what you said you would do.

While you couldn’t continue to skip class altogether, you made sure to sit in the very back, closest to the door for a quick getaway. The few times a paper or a quiz needed to be handed in over the next week, you’d make acquaintances with whoever sat next to you and get them to hand it in for you with some excuse about having to leave as soon as possible. The ultimate goal was to make it seem as if you weren’t there at all. You even wore a baseball cap pulled down to cover up most of your face. That probably made you stand out more than blend in, but it kept you from staring at him, so that was a silver lining.

Moving on was easier said than done though.

Every time you turned a corner, you panicked when you saw his face. It was never actually him, just your mind playing tricks on you, superimposing his face onto whoever was headed in your direction. How could it betray you like this? You were trying to move on with your life and yet it seemed dead set on reminding you of him every chance it got.

Footsteps in the library would make you look up. At times you thought you heard his voice, making you whirl around in the middle of a busy hallway. Stupid songs on your playlist would make you think of him and you couldn’t even watch your favorite shows without wondering if Junmyeon was watching it was well.

One night, when you were particularly restless, you found yourself sneaking out of the apartment and heading for the little park. Just like that night with Junmyeon, there was no else around as you followed the concrete path to that secluded bench. You sat down, bringing your feet up and closing your eyes as you went back to that time.

You’d been so happy in that brief, fleeting moment. Still a little unsure and hesitant, but happy. Junmyeon had called you one of the most important people in his world. You’d believed it, taking in his honesty. But after that, you felt more like a convenience, something to shake up his world that maybe had become a little too boring.

The phantom feeling of his arms wrapped around you made you shrink into yourself more. If you were just a convenience, if you weren’t something more to him that a person who knew his secret, then why did he so desperately try to stop you? What was he going to tell you?

“Your my-”

You put your fists over your ears to try and block out the memory. His what? His friend? His confidant? What was so important that he had to tell you right then and there? What had you refused to listen to?

Regret was starting to way down you.

Did you do the right thing? Would you ever be able to move on? You wanted to. You wanted to so desperately, but everything reminded you of him, everything made you want to turn around and ask for him to tell you whatever it was he wanted to say, that you would listen to every word without judgement.

You felt like the lead in a rom com right after the dramatic turn in the plot. All you needed to do was wait a little while longer and he would miraculously show up, the feeling of needing to revisit this place again. After you’d jump to your feet, you’d then give some drawn out speech about you were an idiot and how you just wanted to protect your heart and how you had plans before he came along and that’s why you tried to push him away, but now you just might adjust them – not banish them completely – if that meant he would stay in your life.

Life wasn’t a movie, though. You didn’t get miraculous coincidences that –

Oh, screw it.

Pushing away your self-pity, you decided to take the chance. You ran out of the park and towards the campus. There were still cars in the parking lot, enough to indicate that evening classes were still in session. If you remembered the schedule correctly, Junmyeon didn’t have any, but there was still a chance that he could be in his office. The lights were still on in the hallway of the world studies building. You nearly slipped on the freshly mopped floor, but you figured that would just be the slight comic relief before you pressed on.

Coming up to Junmyeon’s office, your heart sped up. The light was on inside and the sound of movement was evident behind the door.

You could do this. It wasn’t that hard to turn the handle and walk inside.

The doorknob was cold when you grasped it. Slowly, you turned it before throwing the door open. “Junmyeon, I- Oh. Sorry.”

It wasn’t Junmyeon rummaging around in the office. It was a man from the cleaning crew. He hadn’t heard you enter at first, earbuds in and blaring loud enough for you to vaguely hear something resembling rap music.

Realizing that he was no longer alone, he turned around and plucked out the buds. “Yeah?”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, waving your apology before closing the door once more.

Well, at least you tried. If you couldn’t talk to him tonight, then you would just have to wait until class on Monday.

**

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

Over and over, Junmyeon let the back of his head knock against the wall behind him. He had one elbow resting on a bent knee while the other leg was laying down flat as he sat on the floor of his bedroom. He hadn’t really moved since waking up this morning. Getting out of bed hadn’t been too bad, but after that all motivation had evaporated and he couldn’t leave the room for breakfast.

Tomorrow he’d have to face you again. Not nearly as close as you once had been, but your very presence in that classroom was just enough to drive him mad, even with you sitting all the way in the back, trying hide under a hat and hunched shoulders. Each minute that went by drained even more of his control. How much longer would he last before he snapped completely, running up those stairs in the middle of a lecture before snatching you up and hauling you away to make you listen to him?

He couldn’t do that. No matter how much he wanted to. He was lucky, though. So far, he’d only had one attack and it was last Thursday in the middle of dinner. The few wolves that had been home had rushed to his side, making him feel a little appreciated and cared for, but it’d subsided quickly and he hadn’t had one since. Kris grumbled around him a few times about the whole ordeal. His own attacks hadn’t let up, making it great cause for concern. Junmyeon didn’t want anyone worrying about him when his fellow alpha was in more danger.

Junmyeon scoffed. Fellow alpha. That was giving himself too much credit. While he was the official leader of the pack and certainly displayed the qualities of an alpha, he wasn’t on the same level as Kris. Junmyeon had been raised to be a leader of wolves, but it was in Kris’ blood. Others immediately looked to him and fell in line. When Kris left all those years ago, Junmyeon was surprised that more didn’t leave with him, just on instinct.

“Okay, you seriously need to stop.”

Baekhyun, along with Yixing, barged into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him before standing over Junmyeon. Fists on his hips, it was a bit of a comical sight. Baekhyun just wasn’t the serious one and when he tried to be, it was hard to keep a straight face. Yixing simply carried a look of concern.

“Stop what?” Junmyeon asked as he strained to stay composed.

Rolling his eyes, Baekhyun replied, “Banging your head against the wall. We can all hear it and, honestly, it’s a little pathetic. You need to pick yourself up.”

A little offended, Junmyeon grabbed a dirty, rolled up sock and threw it at the younger wolf’s face. “Easy for you to say, your mate practically fell into your lap.”

“She is a little clumsy,” Baekhyun beamed. Letting the smile slip from his face, he sighed and sat down next to Junmyeon. “This is sad, though. I never expected you to mess up this much. Whatever happened to the smooth operator? Did you leave him behind in your college days?”

Yixing, still quiet as ever, sat down on the other side. He sported a thoughtful look, making Junmyeon wonder what was going through his head, but that was nothing new. Yixing was always hard to read.

“I didn’t care back then,” Junmyeon answered honestly as he turned back to the other wolf. “If they said no, I could always move on to the next one. I wasn’t exposing myself life this.”

Baekhyun snorted. “Yeah. You really did expose yourself to her that night in the woods, didn’t you?”

As much as he wanted to throw a punch, Junmyeon only had the energy to throw a look of annoyance in Baekhyun’s direction.

“It’ll be okay,” Baekhyun said, all joking out of his voice. There was no hint of his normal goofy grin on his face.

Junmyeon was taken back, but certainly grateful. “Thank you. I don’t know if it will be. I think I hurt her pretty badly. All because I couldn’t open my damn mouth and say what needed to be said. I should have just been honest with her along.”

“You should have,” Yixing agreed, “but your fear kept you from doing it.”

“My fear?” Junmyeon echoed. “My fear of what? Her rejecting me?”

Yixing shook his head. “No. Not that. You didn’t want to give her the option of choosing between you and her dream of archaeology. Because you’re scared of what she’ll choose. Our mates may accept us, but they don’t have to stay by our side. They don’t yearn in the same way we do. They can leave while we stay behind.”

Yixing was right, of course. He didn’t want to ask you to choose just for you go off on a dig. And then he’d be alone again, surrounded by his mated brothers living so happily while he pined for you. But it wasn’t right to make you choose him either. So, however unknowingly, he stayed quiet and kept that choice away from you. Then he wouldn’t have to face the worst possible outcome.

Well, second worst.

“I don’t want to hold her back,” Junmyeon whispered.

“It’s up to her.” Yixing smiled, “But her choice might surprise you.”

If anyone knew, it would definitely be Yixing. Junmyeon almost forgot about his previous predicament.

Baekhyun exhaled a loud huff. “Thank god Hae In just wants to be a kindergarten teacher.”

Junmyeon snorted. There was a lot for Baekhyun to be grateful for.

It wasn’t going to be easy, but Junmyeon was going to try one more time to speak with you. But first, he had another matter he needed to look into as well.

**

No. No, no, no, no. This couldn’t be happening to you!

This morning you had a plan. You were going to corner Junmyeon when class was over, after sitting right there in the front know so he knew that you wanted to talk to him. It was all supposed to be fixed one way or the other. You needed to fix it.  

But you did what you normally tasked yourself with doing in the morning before you headed off to class: you checked your email. Right there at the very top was a new message labeled from “Professor Kim”. Your heart was skipping in your chest from excitement… until you opened the email.

It was a mass message to your whole class explaining that class would be canceled today and to turn in the papers electronically instead for this one time.

Letting out a high pitched whine, you let your head fall down to your keyboard. You didn’t want to wait until Wednesday to try again. What if he also canceled that class? How the hell were you supposed to see him now?

Your brain offered you the solution of driving back up to the farmhouse. You still had the directions, but you didn’t want to drive all the out there just to discover that he wasn’t there.

Was this all your fault? Did he cancel class because of you?

You scoffed at yourself. You didn’t think you had that strong of a hold on him.

Sighing, you closed your laptop and drummed your fingers on your table. You had nearly four hours before your next class would start. There was only one thing you could think to do to calm down. You needed to go to your happy place.

Getting dressed with the minimal amount of effort, you packed up for your things for class and headed out. The bus stop was right at the corner and yet you still barely made it in time to catch your ride before it took off.

The bus was crowded with commuters since it was still early in the morning, most of them talking on the phone or with each other. You found a seat near the back, cutting out the loud buzzing chatter, and counted down the stops until you were just a block away from the museum. Thanking the driver out of politeness, you walked the rest of the way, making it just in time for the unlocking of the doors.

“You’re here especially early,” Mrs. Kang, one of the curators, teased as she let you in.

You shrugged. “I had some time to kill.”

“So many visitors this morning,” Mrs. Kang murmured to herself. “Must be something in the air.”

You frowned at her observation, but shrugged it off.

For a while, you simply wandered around the first floor, staring at the dinosaur bones and reading the little plaques you’d memorized a long time ago. Soon you found yourself in front of the newsboard. One little flyer caught your eye. It was a job for the museum. It wouldn’t open up until next spring but it intrigued you and there was promise of a possible trip to an excavation site.

“(y/n)?”

You gasped, turning towards the voice. You nearly cried right then and there.

Junmyeon was standing just a few feet away. Like a miracle.

Out of instinct, you glanced around frantically before asking, “W-what are you doing here?”

He smiled at you. How could he be smiling at you right now? “I needed to spend some time with the artifacts. I had to research something.”

“And did you find what you were looking for you?” you asked.

Junmyeon shook his head. “No, unfortunately not.” He tilted his head, staring at you. “What are you doing here?”

“You canceled class,” you mumbled. “I didn’t know what else to do, so I came here.” Playing with your fingers, you fidgeted back and forth on the balls of your feet. “Can I talk to you?”

He chuckled. “You can always talk to me, (y/n).”

The cheesy line made you smile. “I appreciate that. But I mean… about something important.”

“Of course.” After glancing at the front, Junmyeon motioned towards the back door with his head. “Let's go back to the room.”

You nodded and followed him, your system going crazy with anticipation. This morning when you woke up, all you wanted was to talk to him. Now that opportunity was in front of you, you were scared as hell.

Oh, well. Here goes nothing.

[everlarkficexchange]

Incubus

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 49: He has spent centuries coming at night and sleeping with as many humans as possible, many dying from childbirth with no child to bear, or because his lust overpowered them. He needs to find a women that can live through his lust and birth an healthy offspring and after centuries, he thinks he found the one, the sixteen year old Katniss Everdeen. Dark incubus!peeta Angst Old times. [submitted by @animekpopxx​]

RATED: EXPLICIT for disturbing themes, imagery and adult situations.

WARNINGS: Dark!Peeta; Creepy!Peeta; Stalker!Peeta. Demon!Peeta; Dark!Toastbabies; minor character’s death, Canon compliant violence, Non-con/Rape. Stockholm Syndrome-ish.

TAGS: Supernatural AU; Under 16K words; Smut (Underage!Everlark, non-everlark)

Acknowledgements: Thanks to @animekpopxx for the great prompts, you never cease to inspire with your ideas for stories… sorry if I didn’t completely adhere to all the specifications listed on the prompt.

Many thanks to my amazing beta @wingletblackbird, who’s insights made this story 10 million times better.

@xerxia31 and @javistg for their dedication to Everlark Fanfiction, you keep the creative juices pumping with this events, and I thank you both for that… and thank you for reading my One Shot. Hopefully is to your liking! 

  KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP

I’m thrusting vigorously into the wet, hot and loose pussy of a married woman who summoned me by name to get back at her cheating husband— who apparently has sired no less than 4 bastards, each from a different woman— by fucking a demon.

  She’s also awake, which is fairly unusual for my encounters, but I couldn’t refuse an invitation such as this when the woman is so willing and eager, and the call comes laced with the delicious odor of arousal.

  The problem is, she talks too much!

  I’ve done my best to tune out her asinine remarks on how big and intimidating my cock is compared to human penises, how much watching my member excites her, and makes her greedy pussy flutter in anticipation; I’ve heard stupid comments like those for millennia from women with the same wicked gleam in their eyes. They think that calling me to fuck them is some kind of thrilling game, as if the stories of how most of my partners don’t survive their first encounter with me, how their bodies can’t take the stress I put on them when I’m really overcome with lust, are mere jokes passed down from generations. But this woman really is testing my patience.

  Everything was alright until she asked a question that enraged me above anything she’s said so far.

  “My lord, is it true you impregnate every one of your victims?” There is that psychotic glint in her beady eyes again.

  I grunt and push away onto my haunches.

  The woman tries to sit up quickly, chasing my retreating form desperately with a pleading apology taking shape in her mouth. She doesn’t get to voice whatever idiotic excuse she was about to spew.

  With a flick of my hand, five silk ropes spring up from the floor and wrap around both her wrists and both ankles; the last one gags her mouth. She whimpers and the sadistic gleam in her eyes finally gets replaced with fear when the ropes pull back her legs bringing her knees level with her ears and her thighs spread wide open to me.

  Without stopping to look at her, I ram into her ass with so much force the legs of the bed groan and break under the punishing pace I’m keeping.

  The woman cries out in terror or pain, maybe both, I don’t care. I don’t stop driving into her until my release is imminent. When it’s time, I pull my cock out of the woman’s rectum swiftly, and spill all my cum on her face, chest, and part of her stomach. I take great care not to let even a drop of my precious seed fall into her reproductive organs.

  I sigh in relief once I’m done.

  The woman strains against her restraints, and moans pitifully. I look down at her tearful face with spite.

  Pathetic.

  Finally, I answer her question, “No. I don’t impregnate every one of my partners. Some aren’t worthy of carrying my offspring.” I stand from the broken bed and give her a disdainful glance, “You should count yourself lucky you don’t rate as a good partner, otherwise I would’ve taken your life, as well as your pleasure.”

  I dissolve into dark mist leaving her in that shameful position, tied up like a hog and covered in mess, to be found by her husband.

  ——

  It is not my custom to glide aimlessly through a human town after I’ve fed my lust, yet tonight’s encounter left a bitter taste in my mouth I just can’t shake off.

  I’ve been cursed into existence with the sole purpose of mating with as many women as there are sand grains by the ocean until one of them births me an heir to… to replace me, I guess, until he too has successfully produced a replacement of his own. Regretfully, I’m still here, after thousands of years, fucking my way through humanity. Not one woman has been strong enough to carry my spawn to term, so the careless curiosity of a self indulgent idiot got to me a little too hard.

  There have been a handful of promising cases, but at the end they just amount to female corpses too weak to bear my child. Every single woman I’ve copulated with either dies in the throes of passion, unable to whistand my consuming lust, or has complications with the pregnancy, either because the creature simply sucks the life force out of the host, or because labor pains put too much stress on their mortal bodies and they just give out with internal organ failures.

  On this depressing thought, I come to the center of town where I would never be if there was any sun in the sky right now. I’m about to turn myself into a small smoke tornado that will project me back to my den for a while, before my night starts anew on the other side of the globe, but a small, hopeless sob attracts my full attention.

  I’m a creature of darkness; therefore I’m drawn to and strengthened  by human pain and calamity. The whimpering continues guiding me to an alleyway, behind a lane of brick buildings, housing an amalgamation of shops.

  I notice three things upon arrival. First, the soft sobbing is coming from a little girl, much too young to be outside alone at this time. Second, it is dark, very, very dark; a moonless night, that should frighten a hardened man, a night in which specters like me come out to play eagerly with unsuspecting humans too dumb to stay safely in their beds. And lastly, this is the loneliest, creepiest alley I’ve ever been to. It’s cold, muddy, echo-y and reeks of death.

  My kind of place, I realize.

  Not at all where a tiny child such as this one should be.

  At first glance I determine the child is frail and almost to the doors of death. A female of around 10 or 11 years old, judging by her skeletal frame. It looks like she hasn’t known the taste of food in quite a few days, and she’s giving up her life in this cursed place.

  It is not in my nature to care whether she expires sitting on the hard ground, against the scraggly apple tree she leans on, or not, but for some reason, I speak to her. Soft and soothing.

  “What are you doing here, girl? It’s dark, late, and scary.”

  Deadened, sunken eyes stare at me suspiciously, “I could ask you the same. But I’m not nosy!” She replies turning her pert nose up at me.

  I chuckle and lower myself to the ground. The little brat is a piece of work! “I’m nosy and I don’t care if that’s rude.”

  The girl cocks her head sideways, slightly curious, not the least bit afraid.

  “I ran out of coin.” She finally says, “I can’t to go back home to my little sister, Prim, without food. She’s so tiny, and her lips keep crackin’ and bleedin’ every time she cries, asking if there’s anything to eat.”

  Normally, humans never see my true form if they happen to get a glimpse of me. They would die of terror on the spot, so their minds only see what they can handle. For women, they see every feature they find attractive in a male, making me irresistible for them, in the very, very seldom instance that they see me while awake. Men, on the other hand, tend to see someone non-threatening, a friend who would never hurt them. I’m not sure what this child sees me as, but clearly she sees someone worth opening her heavy little heart to, because the floodgates of her troubled life seem to have opened up, and she sobs telling me the rest of her story.

  “I can’t remember the last time I ate something that I had to chew with my teeth. My tummy started to ache a few days ago, but I didn’t want Prim to ache too, so I’ve been giving her all the little food we had left. Yesterday, all I found in the cupboards were a few dry mint leaves, I boiled them in water and told her it was soup. I came to the market to sell Prim’s baby clothes, but nobody wanted my ragged wares. I got so dizzy after walking all day trying to sell them, and my arms were so tired, I accidentally dropped the clothes on the mud somewhere yonder; I’m not sure where. I couldn’t pick them up, even if I’d wanted to. I knew that if I leaned down, I’d just kilter over and wouldn’t be able to get up again.”

  She takes a ragged breath and paws the soaked tendrils of black hair sticking to her forehead away.

  “I didn’t wanna die like that in the middle of the street where anyone could see. They would’ve known mother hasn’t been taking care of us. They would take Prim to the Community Home. Children in the Community Home get crushed by sadness and red marks on their faces from angry hands… I couldn’t do that to poor, delicate Prim. But this place here…” her eyes take a glassy quality, and her lips curl into a slight smile as if daydreaming of better days. “It used to be the bakery, before the owners moved away and abandoned it. The smell of freshly baked bread still lingers here, and if I inhale hard enough, I swear I can feel the smells fill my tummy.”

  She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, as if truly she could get her empty stomach filled with the long gone fragrance of yeast and flour that used to permeate this alley before.

  “My belly doesn’t hurt no more,” she sighs, opening her eyes and fixing them on me, “in case you were wondering.”

  My head cocks to the side, staring at her curiously.

  “I stopped feeling the hunger aches without noticing. Mamma’s a healer, I once heard her tell a woman, whose children had stopped crying out for food, that those are actually dangerous times, when the body needs food, when it’s so far gone, it starts eating itself out. But I’m not scared about that… dying here, where bread used to be baked… won’t be so bad, would it?”

  Something tugs at me in the back of my mind. Without thinking about it, and barely feeling anything at all, I conjure up two steaming loaves of hearty bread out of thin air. At first, my instinct compels me to take a bite out of the bread, taunt her, mock her, chop off pieces and lug them over the falling link fence of an old pen, where the odor of some kind of animal still persists, and watch her climb over the muck to devour the soiled bread. But then, my hands move of their own volition, offering the loaves to the girl.

  Her eyes follow my every move, stuck on the delectable food she’s been deprived off for so long, just staring at my gift.

  Suddenly, I’m aware of how cold and wet everything around me is.

  “It’s pouring.” I muse flatly.

  The girl’s eyes tell me she clearly thinks I’m stupid, but my clothes cling to my body uncomfortably, and now I’m aware my body feels oddly smaller than usual. I look down at my arms, realizing I have the arms of a child myself.

  I guess the girl is projecting her age and features on me, like humans do.

  “Take the bread before it’s too soggy to eat.” I grunt in aggravation.

  “I—Are you sure? I couldn’t… I don’t have anything to pay or trade—“

  I shove the two loaves into her lap, and kick off from the ground where I had come to sit, next to her. “Go home.” I command. “Get out of this darkness and this cold rain.”

  The girl looks at the food on her arms with disbelief and awe, then she looks up at me, as if I had given her the moon, the clouds, and her very own star. She murmurs. “Thank you…”

  In a second, she’s running away as fast as her scrawny little legs can take her, while I stand here stunned and confused. There was a strange reaction I got when the little girl’s gray eyes met mine and I could see the most appetizing fire within. I knew the little girl would not only survive, but thrive.

  I won’t ever see the little human again, so what do I care what’s in her future? I melt back into the shadows, already putting the incident behind me.

  ——————

I’m particularly fond of nubile virgins, which probably accounts for how poorly their bodies perform when I impregnate them, but I digress… teenage girls have the softest skin. Their budding breasts, still unaware of the effects of gravity, retain an innocent perkiness I could kill for. But, while all this is true on my normal hunts, one prepubescent human has become a most incomprehensible obsession of mine ever since the night I gave her the bread.

  My girl with the braid and gray eyes is now 14. She had to mature in extreme circumstances, before her time, making her exquisite in resilience and a strength her peers lack. I find myself attracted to her dormant… sturdiness.

  But at 14– in human years— her reproductive system is not mature enough even for a monster like me. She has not the means, nor the skills, to sustain the demands of mating with me, let alone carrying my spawn, so I admire her from afar and more often than I should.

  Tonight for example, I watch her sleep for a short moment, then I let myself slip through the same crack in the window I slithered inside, and go on my merry way to find a more fitting host.

  The girl will sleep untouched tonight, meanwhile I still need to bury myself into a warm, available body.

  —————

  “My name is Katniss Everdeen. What’s yours?” She asks the night a come across her, when she’s stuck on the other side of an electrified fence, in a dark, dark forest.

  “Peeta.” I say emotionless. It’s my given name, although her kind has given me a different, more sinister name I’m not terribly fond of. “Why are you out here?” I ask.

  “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but my papa taught me how to hunt. That’s what I’ve been doing every day for the last two years to feed my family. I come everyday before school, and most days I return even after.”

  “Why come twice in a day?” My voice is flat, but she doesn’t seem to mind it.

  “Well…” She scowls looking at the ground, as her answer comes together in her mind. “My family has to eat, but we also need other things, like paraffin, thread and needles, matches… things for school, soap for the washing. People in town will pay coin for fresh meat, or trade with other goods. It’s a good system.” She states proudly. But then, she looks nervously around, and stutters as if remembering herself. “But you can’t tell anyone about any of that. I could get punished if word got out that I hunt illegally.” Her nose wrinkles in disgust. “Promise you won’t say anything, Peeta.”

  I want to roll my eyes at her, but she’s staring at me with those eyes full of stars and warmth. I have to admit, it felt amazing to hear her use my name. Very few beings even know it, humans can’t even imagine I have an actual name, which suits me, since they fear the one they gave me. It almost rivals the strange pleased sensation I got when her gray eyes widened in pleasant recognition when she saw me approach her tonight. Still, I know not why she’s out here on her lonesome, and I much rather have her go home, to bed, where I have control.

  “I don’t have anyone to tell. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tattle. But why are you here so late?”

  She frowns. “The part of me getting stuck out here is actually unintentional, and happens very seldom.”

  I arch an eyebrow— I had no idea I could use the muscles in my forehead in such manner— and wait for her to elaborate.

  “The fence is a pre-war inconvenience, supposed to act as a deterrent for wild beasts, but is almost never on. Animals know to stay away from town, and people like me get to climb under it to gather apples and berries that grow in the wild. Only a few of us hunt, because it’s still illegal to poach. Today I slipped under the wires at dusk to collect some herbs for mother— she’s got to make half of her poultices and unguents with herbs only found in the woods, mind you— anywho, when I came back, the fence was live.” She shivers, crossing her arms over her chest. “I just have to wait it out. It’ll eventually shut off and I’ll be able to cross back into the district. Prim’s already come by to check on me and knows I’m safe. I’ll climb a tree or something while I wait.”

  I grunt my understanding and shake my head in aggravation. I wave my hand carelessly, and the electric buzz dies instantly. “I think you can come back in again now.” I tell her needlessly. “Hurry up. You never know how long this will last.”

  The girl, Katniss, narrows her eyes suspiciously at me momentarily, but finally shrugs, “As you say.” Then sticks her arm through the links of the fence, holding up her game bag to me. “Hold this for me.” She crawls under the fence and then stands in front of me.

  We are the same height I realize. But then, I grow an extra inch or two above her. The corner of her lips curls up, and I’m certain she’s figured something out about me, I just don’t know if it’ll help or hinder my advances.

  “I’ll see you around, Peeta. Thank you for keeping me company while I was out there. It’s the first time I got caught out at night. It was nice seeing a friendly face.”

  “Mmm. Be more careful next time.” I grunt, and walk away from her.

  —————-

I come back to Katniss’ bedroom for reasons I can’t readily comprehend.

  She’s not very big or particularly pretty; she’s not even ready to copulate! But there’s a certain vulnerability in her subconscious self that calls me to her.

  During the day, she sports the scowl of a thirty year old single mother of two working with only the skills of poaching, handed down to her from her dead father, in order to sustain her family while putting herself and her younger child through school. Of course, she is not really a mother, but everything else is true; so the rest might as well be true also, since she’s had to care and provide for her mother and younger sister for the last two years, taking the mantle of breadwinner all on her slim, little shoulders. Her determination is her own type of brawn in my book.

  I hover above her sleeping form, just studying her face; so sweet and tender, free of the premature worry lines and that perpetual scowl that plagues her features in wakefulness, but then again, it is that intimidating scowl of hers that grants her the respect of any adult she does business with.

  In sleep, Katniss looks more her age. Innocent and soft, like the velvety petals of a rose bud.

  I breathe in the clean smell of her recently bathed body, and wonder if I could just slip my palm up her thigh, just to feel her soft skin under my fingers? But her mother stirs and sighs in the other bed, shutting the thought to Hell.

  My eyes cut to the woman right away, but she’s asleep, just rearranging her position in the sagging mattress next to the one I’m floating over.

  Mrs. Everdeen suffers melancholy. Her emotional illness almost killed her and her daughters; I’m not sure how I feel about her. She’s better now, but the months of starvation and near death have permanently damaged Katniss, emotionally and psychologically, more than she lets on.

  The Everdeens never had wealth or means to afford but the barest of necessities, so when Mr. Everdeen passed, he left nothing behind but a small house with a tiny living area, kitchen, bathroom, and a single bedroom for his surviving family to live in. Another reason I don’t act on my urges to fuck sweet Katniss; the poor thing shares a room with her mother, and more often than not, shares a bed with her little sister.

  Tonight is a rare occasion, in which the sister hopped in bed with the mother, leaving the object of my fascination to battle her recurrent nightmares alone. This only exacerbates the troublesome dreams for Katniss, which aggravates me, since her sleep patterns turn irregular and shallow, making it hard for me to infiltrate her subconscious. She’s more prone to wake up when her mind is occupied relieving the bad days. But I don’t complain much, seeing that while she’s is bed alone, I can leisurely hover directly above her sleeping form, instead of by the side of the mattress like I’m usually confined to.

  I go back to gaze at my sleeping beauty, and decide that this won’t do.

  I have to figure out a way to give Katniss her own room.

  I want privacy when the time comes I can do all things I yearn to do. But there’s still time! Katniss has a couple of years ahead of her to grow and mature. I’ll just bide my time until that glorious future.

  Before leaving her side for the night, I kiss her forehead. I plant a thought there as my lips touch her skin: ‘Don’t pull the covers up too high. Loosen the sheets around your shoulders. Relax your breathing… rest.’

  Then I’m gone.

  —————————-

  I’m inside sweet, beautiful Lavinia, pounding away in glorious ecstasy.

  She’s an absolute delight with a soft, pliable body, with swells and dips in all the right places and shapely legs that go on forever.

  She moans sensually every time I enter her. She clenches her pussy muscles around my cock deliciously, and I lick the perspiration off her pale, luscious flesh to give my tongue something to do.

  For the first time in months, my mind doesn’t drift to fantasies of an older version of Katniss while moving into the designated warm body of the day. I’m thoroughly satisfied, and at the end of the tryst, just when I’m about to pull out of Lavinia’s tight crevice, she seizes, shakes, arches off the bed with her mouth forming an agonizing O, dipping her head back so her auburn hair brushes the mattress beneath and her torso finally collapses on the bed heavily.

  My chest feels the familiar little stir of excitement.

  Every woman I’ve successfully implanted with an embryo has had a similar physical reaction. Some are more violent than others, but it’s always the same and I’m cautiously content this time was so mild on the host… mother… whatever she is to my heir.

  I stay maybe another hour, just staring at Lavinia’s stomach, wishing I could see beyond the skin and muscle, deep into the womb, take a peek at the creature starting to take shape in her tissue. But alas, that’s not one of my many abilities and powers.

  At the first crow of the rooster in the predawn, while it’s still inky dark out there, do I finally see it happening.

  It starts as a small, dark red stain growing on the white linen sheets covering the still sleeping redhead. She doesn’t move an inch, but I know from experience the pregnancy failed. Despite the fact that the girl is still breathing, I can’t help thinking she’s already dead.

  Lavinia’s hemorrhaging fast; the mess covering her clothes and bedding is now reaching her shoulders; her eyes flutter behind her closed lids, and I regret ever putting my hands on her, because now she’s another girl I’ve sent for death.

  I don’t linger to see her last breath.

  None of my partners survive a pregnancy. But the night just began in the other side of world, and my loins call for another lover to replace the child I just lost.

—————————

  Katniss is 15.

  Her dark hair reaches her waist even braided. She hides her budding breasts and the slight curve of her ass, under her father’s old shirts and leather jacket, which are at least 3 sizes too big for her. She’s also taken to wearing  trousers instead of skirts and dresses, but even I’ve grown used to her clothing dwarfing her slight frame.

  The fact her developing womanly figure stays camouflaged serves two purposes; one, is purely practical, people seem to forget she’s a child— female at that— and take her seriously for trades and bartering; the second one benefits both of us, by keeping unwanted male attention from bothering her.

  But there’s no escaping nature, and there’s no stopping puberty. Katniss’ body is maturing nicely, and with that comes torturous growing pains.

  Today was hard for her, I can tell.

  She’s squirming in her sleep, doubled over at her tiny waist with her nimble arms wrapped around her middle. The downy hair at her temple is damped with perspiration, and her sweet lips are pale and dry.

  I kiss the dewy skin of her forehead, murmuring an incantation to numb away her aches. After a few minutes of me trying to soothe her with small caresses, the awful grimace falls off her face, and a relaxed sigh leaves her chapped lips. Her arms loosen, allowing her hands to curl softly beneath her chin.

  Her menses started a few months ago, and they have been rough on her. The cycle wipes out most of her strength, leaving her in cold sweats, dizzy, and unstable on her feet. The reaction really worries me. I don’t want there to be a problem I have not foreseen.

  I lean my cheek against her soft abdomen and whisper an enchantment. Given my nature, I’m not capable of healing ailments, or granting blessings, nor am I allowed to praying to the ones who could help, but I’m allowed to cast spells and conjure old magic, and lastly, I’m allowed to bear certain illnesses in a human’s stead, so I try to take her pain upon myself. I need my girl to be strong and healthy if she’s to carry my offspring in the future.

  I nuzzle her navel for a moment before taking a step back.

  A sharp pain wreaks through me, becoming acute near my groin. I claw at the air as the searing pain pierces through me, and then is gone as fast as it came.

  That’s that.

  I’ve never felt pain before, and I truly hope I never have to suffer it again, but Katniss is resting now, free of deliberating aches, sleeping soundly and peaceful. The unsavory sensations were worth it, just to watch my girl fall into blessed oblivion.

  That should do it.

  I leave her to rest, wiping off tonight’s nightmares from her subconscious as well.

  —————-

  I used to worry that with Katniss’ struggle with starvation and malnutrition, her body would become useless as a vessel. Then the day her first bloods stained her undergarments arrived to my everlasting relief, and that to the added improvement of her hunting skills that fetched her better game, and her gathering double portions of wild vegetables and herbs in the woods, where doing wonders to her health.

  I was delighted to see her filling in her scrawny bones with meat and muscle, and her cheeks get rosier. It’s the best indication that at last, her womb is ready for procreation!

  There’s still the pesky issue of her shared lodgings, so I decided to bide my time until her healer mother gets called to tend an overnight patient, and eager to learn, little Primrose would tag along her mother to help, leaving the house all to myself. Unfortunately, something else happened that I didn’t see coming.

  To my everlasting fury, I discovered her trips to the woods aren’t as solitary as I had believed. It so happens that sweet, capable Katniss, does have a hunting partner, and for some reason I ignored this fact completely until today.

  The fence is electrified again, but this time Katniss has made camp in the branches of a tall, sturdy tree. In a branch below hers, a lanky, older boy made his bed under the canopy, tying a rope around his waist to anchor him to the tree limb, same as her.

  “Hey Catnip, you get some shut eye for now. I have first watch. I’ll wake up when I get tired.”

  “Unless you see something worth shooting!” She tells the boy scowling. “Wake me up right away, Gale. Not like last time you saw a deer and tried to down it by yourself.”

  The boy lifts his hands in surrender. “Alright, Catnip. Whatever you say.” He sounds almost playful. Almost, but then he finishes with a firmer command, “Now go to sleep. I’ll call if I see anything interesting.”

  I feel anger, jealousy, and righteous indignation boiling all over me. I feel my true form emerging, ready to show myself in all my glorious horror, but then I remember Katniss is a mere two feet up above the boy’s branch, and instead of attacking the mortal, I simply explode back to my dwelling, deep in the dark recesses of the Earth.

  Meanwhile, in the human world:

  “Did you smell sulfur?” Asks Gale sitting up straighter on his branch.

  “No. But smelling sulfur out of the blue isn’t a very good omen, Gale. I think we should call it a night, and head back home as soon as the fence is dead.”

  “Yeah. You may be right. We don’t wanna be near any toxic gas leaks, and we know next to nothing about the minerals in the mines yonder.” He points into the dark, in the direction of the old abandoned coal mines that used to be the only source of income to people like Katniss’ family.

  The teenagers descend the tree quickly, with loaded bows aloft, heading in the direction of town, praying the fence is no longer active.

  Oblivious to the angry roar resonating in the empty spaces of earth. Full of vengeance and jealousy.

  —————

Gale Hawthorne gets visited by my female counterpart, the one humans have named Succubus, courtesy of yours truly.

  She does not take his life unfortunately.

  She makes him sick enough he’s bedridden for a week, but he recovers.

  When I confront my demoness comrade, she simply says “The boy is 17, and he’s the sole provider for his family of 5. He’s mother is living enough hell as it is, so I just gave tall, dark and handsome a good ride and a touch at nirvana.”

  I don’t think that was the truth behind her reprieve at all; I’ve seen her take the lives of teens younger than that, who indulge in self molestation a little too much. I believe she let him keep his life as petty revenge on me, for disrupting her other encounters that night.

  The only consolation I have for now is that Gale Hawthorne will have an unexplainable aversion to sex for a few months, which means he won’t pursue my girl in the interim.

  But Katniss is starting to look more like a woman and less like a tomboy. It’s only a matter of time before she gets noticed by other boys. I don’t exactly need my partners to be virgins, but the thought of someone else taking Katniss’ purity drives me into a murderous state I really can’t afford.

  So, tonight, when I slip into the crack of the window to visit her, I dip my hand under her covers, into her threadbare camisole, to caress her supple, soft breasts. I pinch her nipples to erection and watch her react to the sensations.

  I plant suggestive thoughts in her subconscious. She blushes in her sleep and I murmur into her ear reassurances about her beauty and worth, and incredibly, I’m truthful about those.

  I close my eyes to savor the moment. It’s the first time I put my hands on her erogenous zones, and she does not disappoint. Katniss’ breast fits perfectly in my palm.

  “Sleep well my dear.” I whisper in her ear, “Dream of Incubus babies suckling at your tits. That will become your future at some point.”

  ———————-

  I’ve been stalking Katniss for the better part of five years, and still I fail to make her mine.

  She will be 16 in a few days time, and I’ve had plenty of opportunities to lay claim to her body, yet I keep finding excuses to prevent me from going any further than a few caresses on safe places. On nights she spends in the woods alone, I fabricate reasons why I shouldn’t touch her: ‘She’s fully clothed’, ‘A coyote is three miles away and could attack her in her heavy sleep’, ‘She looks uncomfortable on this tree branch; I want her first time to be somewhere she’s comfortable.’

  That last one became obsolete the moment Katniss hiked to a cement shack far into the woods, a place she excitedly canvassed for days, then fitted with a makeshift bed of dry grasses and hay to sleep in. Apparently the place had actually been discovered by her father in his youth, and he shared the place with his elder daughter, a secret location all to their own. Being the sentimental human she is, Katniss only recently found the courage to return without her father, and face the fact that her once happy childhood is gone.

  I blame my lack of progress on a disturbing thought: fucking Katniss in her sleep and leaving her to incubate my offspring after without any explanation, amounts to rape, and although it isn’t in my nature to operate under the moralistic customs of humans, I find the notion troublesome and appalling. I would never cause Katniss such pain and humiliation.

  So I’ve been stalling. Buying time, trying to find a way to make this union less… morbid. More consensual.

  I tell myself this is all for Katniss’ benefit, but the truth is, I think it would be rather nice to be able to look at her beautiful gray eyes while spilling my semen into her womb.

  To my chagrin, I’ve realized that while trying to consort with this girl, her humanity has bled into my very essence. I’m just afraid I cannot conform to mortal morals too long. My sole reason to exist is to procreate and satisfy my ever growing lust. My nature will win at the end, and I fear I will lose her when it happens.

  ———————

  It’s raining a monsoon outside, yet Katniss is sitting on the porch crying quietly into her hands. It’s past her bedtime too, so I’m sure this is something she’s trying to hide from her family.

  I sit next to her on the creaky step before even realizing my physical body has materialized out of thin air of its own volition.

  “Gale, my best friend and hunting partner, kissed me today.” She says without even looking up at me. “I pushed him away and told him I didn’t want to be with him that way. That I never wanna get married and have children. He walked off angry, and now I don’t know what to do.”

  “I’m… sorry?” And I am, I just don’t quite know what it is I’m sorry about, yet.

  “I just don’t understand why he had to go and ruin a good thing!” Her gray, tear-filled eyes find me, and I’m surprised at the fire, anger, and betrayal in her gaze. I’m mesmerized. “Why did he have to go and complicate things that way? Isn’t he happy we are friends? Isn’t it enough we go out into the woods and feed our families together like partners? Why mess it all up?”

  “Because you’re beautiful. Because you’re worth the try. Because he’d be an idiot if he let it pass and never confessed his feelings for you. You are extraordinary, Katniss. You have no idea the effect you can have…”

  “What does that even mean, Peeta?” She demands angrily.

  “It means, men look at you and see someone worthy. Someone valuable. Someone they can’t help but admire and want to pledge their loyalties and affections to.”

  She snorts, pawing the tears off her cheeks. “You’re just saying that because you are my guardian spirit.” She says dismissively.

  “Your what?” I ask in disbelief, astonishment and an edge of offense.

  Katniss rolls her eyes, letting me know she thinks I’m being unnecessarily obtuse. “Come on, Peeta. You only show up on moonless nights when I’m in trouble, to help me with whatever supernatural powers you possess. I’ve known who you are since my friend Madge let me read her father’s old books from before the first rebellion of Panem. People back then believed in spirits and those kind of things. I just found one that fitted your description, and it came up as ‘Guardian Angel’ which mostly protect humans… you don’t have to deny or confirm it, but I’m pretty confident I got you identified!”

  She smiles through her tears. There’s a glimmer of satisfaction and playfulness deep in her eyes.

  I’ve never been confused with a Being of Light before, and to be honest I’m doing everything in my power to hide the disgust I feel at that. At this point, I find it counterproductive to correct her preposterous assumptions, so I bite my tongue for the time being.

  “Katniss,” I sigh, “Many boys are going to like you. You are an incredible young woman. That said, you don’t have to choose any of them, especially if you’re not comfortable. If Gale Hawthorne knows what’s good for him, he’ll come back and apologize for imposing himself on you. Otherwise, you did nothing wrong and you don’t owe him anything. Be sure you are happy and safe. Even… even when I’m around. You have such an incredible power to you. Don’t be sad about any of this. Chin up and be a great example for little Prim.”

  “Thank you, Peeta. You always know what to say to make me feel better.” She reaches for my hand taking me by surprise, and squeezes.

  My eyes fall to our entwined hands, and I marvel at the sight; there’s a fluttering of emotions in my chest. I’ve never felt this way before. I’ve never been touched by a human willingly, in friendship or otherwise. It’s extraordinary to say the least.

  I clear my throat. “You should go inside.”

  I watch her duck into her house, and for the first time since the inception of Earth, I remain frozen in one place for the night without seeking a mate to pollinate.

—————

  Two weeks after Gale kissed Katniss, and they still aren’t on speaking terms. They avoid each other and start hunting separate parts of the woods in different schedules.

  Gale is 18 and can opt for a job at the medicine factory that opened up after the rise of the New Panem some ten years ago. He can also apply for a farming license and get a lot with fertile soil to work. Katniss is still too young to apply for any of that, but she’s old enough to marry.

  I will never understand the arbitrariness of human’s law regarding age of consent. A girl of marrying age, should be a girl of independent working age. But what do I know? I’m just a Being of Darkness; such conundrums are beneath me.

  Yet, I’m standing here in the other side of world, pondering on it!

  She doesn’t own me! If I’m going to obsess over a human, I still want to be me. I don’t want her to turn me into some angel I’m not.

  I don’t want to be a piece in this girl’s involuntary game.

  So, on my sweet, beautiful Katniss trudges to the woods teeming with game and wild herbs, waiting for her clever hands to pluck, either the string of her bow, or the greens off the forest floor; it matters not. Her family will eat better than her many neighbors, who sadly still live in poverty despite the new era of freedom.

  Ugh… curse that resilience and strength of hers! She’s irresistible!

—————-

  It’s late in the evening, the last remaining rays of sun just disappeared in the distance, not quite moonless, but dark enough to make anyone uneasy.

  A greasy, disgusting man spots Katniss slinking away from the dead electric fence, and lunges at her like a fiend. He takes her by surprise, and gets a hold of her game bag, which is quickly discarded carelessly on the ground. Katniss tries to fight the man back, gritting her teeth and growling like a rabid animal, but it’s no use.

  Despite how heavy set the man is, he’s quick on his feet, and has restrained Katniss by the wrists.

  The man reeks of white liquor. His balding head has a few long hairs combed to the side, which does nothing to hide the shine of his scalp. The disgusting creature is talking filth into Katniss’ face when I finally step out of the shadows and stalk his way. He doesn’t see me, too distracted on Katniss… MY Katniss.

  She’s doing everything in her power not to show how terrified, how trapped she is, but her eyes are filling with tears and this miserable maggot is feeding off it.

  The man presses his disgusting body into hers, and she tries to kick him off, snarling a threat that doesn’t reach him. The brute shoves her against a tree; she chokes a small sob back and begs him to stop, while shaking like a leaf. The man laughs, then sticks his nauseating tongue out of his mouth, and licks her face, from her chin to her temple … That’s the last thing I remember cohesively.

  I blink, and the next thing I see, there are blood, guts and gray matter splatter everywhere.

  The ground, the trees, my hands and clothes, everything is covered in gore. The man’s corpse lays shattered on the ground in two pieces ripped straight down the middle, from his head downward.

  I gasp her name, scanning the scene frantically until I see her, huddled up behind a tree with her head buried into her arms that rest on her knees.

  I call her name again, but she doesn’t respond to my voice. She mutters something I don’t catch, so I try to touch her. She yelps as soon as my fingers brush her shoulder, and scoots away from me like a crab running from a seagull.

  “No!” She yells batting my hand away.

  “Katniss—“

  “What are you? You’re no angel at all are you?” She stumbles to her feet shakily. I try to follow but she stomps her feet like a toddler in mid-tantrum. “Stay away from me! Monster. Mutt. Whatever you are!” She takes off running home, snatching up her game bag as she goes.

  The only evidence linking her with this horror sight is gone, so it’s time to cover my own tracks.

  I extend my arms straight, at my sides, I close my eyes summoning nature to me. When the hair covering my arms stand with static and my fingers tingle with tiny shocks of electricity, I clap my hands way above my head bringing down a mighty flash of lighting that scorches the ground and singes the bark of the nearest trees.

  Looking at my handiwork with satisfaction, I leave Panem behind. It’s the last time I stalk Katniss Everdeen, awake or asleep. Anonymity is my gift to her.

  Sure enough, when morning comes, the death of that awful man, gets attributed to lightning.  

——————

Plump, bodacious Delly Cartwright is as opposite in looks and personality to Katniss as humanly possible. I chose her painstakingly for that very reason. Her hair is a mess of yellowish curls that remind me of the majestic mane of a lion. Pretty enough face, with fair skin dotted with freckles, thin pink lips framed by laughing marks and wide set blue eyes full of trust and kindness.

  Delly’s had a sheltered, pampered life, and is very free with her affection. She is engaged to be married come Spring, but she’s by no means a pure, innocent virgin. I go at her like a dog with a bone.

  I’m in the process of covering her eyes with my special heavy sleep scales, to ensure she won’t wake in the middle of our tryst, but I feel the tug overpowering my whole body before I hear Katniss’ voice calling me by my proper, given name.

  Delly stirs in her sleep, while I try to hold on to the bedposts, refusing to answer the summon, but Katniss says my name again. It’s too powerful a pull. My fingers slip off the polished wood and my body pops out of existence in this room, and snaps back into being outside the familiar tiny shack the Everdeen women call home.

  The air crackles around me with electric pulses and a cloud of fog surrounds my body.

  Once the fog clears, I can see the single oil lamp sitting on the porch railing, illuminating the slim figure of the girl I’m trying to avoid with all my might.

  She’s beautiful though. I take her in hungrily.

  She’s standing barefoot on the old doormat that’s seen better days, wearing a white, threadbare nightgown I’ve never seen her in before. An equally threadbare shawl that can’t be providing any warmth in this chill wraps around her shoulders. Her hair falls loose down her back, but she keeps fiddling with the end of a lock she’s twisted around her fingers.

  Her pink lips tremble slightly from cold every time she exhales a foggy puff of breath from her mouth.

  Without really stopping to think of what I’m doing, I glide up the porch steps until I’m in front of her and tighten the shawl over her chest with both of my hands.

  “You’re shivering. You shouldn’t be outside in this cold with so little clothes on.” I try to sound stern, but my voice is too soft and caring.

  Her lips twitch up at the corners. Her gray eyes shine in amusement. “I wouldn’t have gotten so cold if you hadn’t taken so long to show up. I called you over 120 seconds ago!” She admonishes in a tone dripping with sarcasm.

  I narrow my eyes at her, trying to figure her out, but I give it up when her teeth start clattering together. She speaks before I can comment further.

  “Come inside with me?” It’s not really a request, since she’s holding my hand like a vise and dragging me towards the door.

  “Is that wise?” I ask her arching an eyebrow. “I’m not the Being of Light you previously thought I was.”

  She scowls at that, “No, you ain’t. But you’ve still saved my life more times than I care to remember. I owe you, and I’m not very comfortable having a debt so steep hanging over my head.”

  “Consider the balance void, Katniss. It’s safer that way.”

  She purses her lips and tightens her hold on her shawl. “We’ll see.” She pushes the door open and in we go, without hesitation.

  “I spoke to Greasy Sae,” she tells me, as we cross the living room and kitchen area, into the bedroom with the two beds, both empty tonight. “She’s the oldest person in the District, you know.” She states as if that explains anything.

  “There’s a wealth of wisdom in the elderly’s counsel,” I comment looking at her profile curiously.  “What did this Sae have to say?”

  Katniss pulls a chair from a writing desk and motions me to sit. I obey without questioning it.

  Katniss shrugs, “I asked many things, really. Sae talks a lot, and she knows everyone, so people come to her for advice.” She sits on her bed opposite me, yet her eyes shy away from mine.

  “What advice did you ask for?”

  “No advice. Just information.” Her eyes flick to me quickly, then go back to a point over my shoulder. “You know, what you did to Cray… well, it wasn’t subtle at all.” She finally pierces me with a glare, but that only lasts a second. “I mean, you tore his body in half with your bare hands and left his carcass to rot in the meadow. Who does that?!” Another glance, this one I can’t tell if she’s disgusted or terrified. She should be both.

  “I made it appear as if had been a lighting strike.” I protest.

  “It wasn’t storming that night, Peeta. We had beautiful, clear skies the whole, entire week. People knew something supernatural was behind that monster’s death.”

  “He was about to do terrible things to you, Katniss. Have you thought of how scared and devastated your sister would’ve been if something awful had happened to you?”

  “Of course I have!” She interrupts me. “It would’ve destroyed her. Don’t get me wrong, people are happy to see the bastard gone, because he’s always had a history with harassing girls, but everyone is scared now of something they don’t understand and can’t start to explain! The whole district is so shocked they close their shutters earlier, hide their youngsters fiercely, walk in large groups when going places like school or the market. Even at school teachers step out of their classrooms to make sure the students milling around the halls are safe. It’s horrible and traumatic…”

  “Then you know why I had to take care of that predator.” I spit venomously.

  Her shoulders sag, “I know.” The pinched look falls off her face.

  She stands up and walks towards me.

  In a surprising move, she lowers herself sideways on my lap. My arms go around her waist immediately, in case she changes her mind, but Katniss leans her head onto my shoulder and sighs deeply.

  In all the centuries I’ve fucked my way through humanity, I’ve never been this close to a girl before. I do not mean merely physically, but intimately. I’m not sure how to respond and reciprocate the affectionate gesture, so I settle for resting my cheek on the crown of her head.

  “Where’s your family?” I ask.

  “Tending to a birth. Twins. There’s some kind of complication, so mother took Prim to help her. They will be out all night.”

  I accept her explanation with a sound at the back of my throat. After a minute of easy silence, I ask, “Were you satisfied with the information you yielded from Mrs. Sae?”

  “No.”

  She doesn’t elaborate for a few minutes.

  “How did you know Cray was attacking me?” She finally asks shuddering in my arms.

  I scowl. “That kind of evil. It comes from me.” I tell her. “I recognize the ones who maim the soul and hurt the spirit, because that’s my job. That perversion originates from the same darkness I come from, and responds to the same urges I do.”

  Katniss tries to appear unperturbed about my words, but she can’t hide her trembling.

  “Sae said she didn’t recognize any spirits by my descriptions. I tried to remain vague and distant, as if asking on someone else’s behalf, but she was troubled by my questions, and I think she knew I’d witnessed Cray’s disembowelment. I had to stop my inquiry.”

  “I’m right here, Katniss. You can ask me anything you want to know. Isn’t that why you called me here tonight?”

  She shakes her head in denial. “Sae said it sounded like a dark one was protecting his mate, or maybe grooming a prospective mate. But of course, she’d never heard of something quite like you. She didn’t know who or what you were. She couldn’t tell me how to proceed.” Katniss straightens up, and stares into my eyes apprehensively. “I have an idea of how you may like me to pay off my debt to you.” She says blushing violently, averting her eyes and fiddling with her shawls fringe.

  She breathes in deeply, and lets the shawl fall from her shoulders. She takes my hand and brings it to her clavicle; her fingers interlace with mine, to venture under the neckline of her nightgown. Before I can make sense of what’s happening, I brush the soft skin of her full breast with the pad of my digits.

  Katniss presses my fingers to her delicate nipple, and I surrender my will to a human, for the first time in the memory of creation.

  I trace her areola gently, with practiced ease, until the nipple puckers up in response. Her own hand falls away, leaving me to my own devices.

  Katniss shudders a little, clenching her eyes closed. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” She asks me, not quite in accusation, but unsure and fearful

  “Yes.” I tell her. No sense in denying the truth. I lean into her ear to whisper, “Katniss, you should have left that debt alone when you had the chance, Sweetheart.” She shivers in my arms, but presses her torso against my body.

  “This is the price isn’t it?” Her voice wavers.

  “Partially. The price I’m charging is something you already told me you were unwilling do. Now we will have to come to some agreement.”

  “How long have you been touching me like this?” She’s holding back tears, but not stopping the pinches and kneading of my fingers on her flesh.

  “I’ve only done this twice to be honest. I palmed your behind once. Somehow, touching you without your knowledge feels… wrong.” She nods, a stray tear trails down her cheek. I nuzzle the sensitive spot behind her ear. “I’m sorry, Katniss. I’m not a one mate being. I go around the world, taking women such as yourself during their sleep, oftentimes impregnating them with my spawn. It’s not my custom to groom my partners, but everything about you has been different from the beginning.”

  “Aren’t I the lucky gal?” She spits bitterly, yet her breathing is getting shallower and a pretty blush is starting to color her skin from her face to her chest. She’s actually enjoying my ministrations on her breasts. “What makes me so special?” She asks.

  “You’re strong minded. One of my powers is to whisper things into a human’s ear, and plant ideas, orders, images… you’re too stubborn to listen to any of that. I’ve command you to cut all of your ties to that Hawthorne boy at least thrice, but you’ve refused to forsake his friendship and companionship each time.

  “I’ve tried to get you to wear dresses and shifts to bed, but you keep wearing your father’s clothing even to sleep.

  “Every time I try to induce a sexual dream into your mind, you clam up, and never stay asleep long enough to get too far into the dream for it to affect you the way I’d want it to. But, things seem to be changing right now.” I pull my hand out of the neckline of her gown and place it on her knee.

  Once I make to hike my hand up her thigh, Katniss clenches her legs together, whether she’s doing it to deny me access, or because she can’t handle the arousal, I am not sure. I drop my hand off her knee all the same.

  “I can’t take you without your consent, Katniss. That much is clear after my failed attempts at wooing you while unconscious.” I whisper into her temple, dropping a sweet, barely-there kiss. “This ‘grooming’ debacle has happened both ways.” I state. “Katniss Everdeen, you’ve tamed the feared and despised Incubus.” She gasps. I suppose, Incubus she’s heard off before.

  “I’m still a demon.” I say solemnly, “A sex fiend. My nature hasn’t changed, despite your domesticating me. You could reject me right this second, and I’d go away without ever touching you. But, once out of your snaring presence, I’d have to prowl around in search of other women to satisfy my needs.”

  “You’re saying that other women and girls well-being rest upon my shoulders?” She asks looking a little green in the face. “You couldn’t possibly do anything to them without their express permission, would you?” She sounds hopeful, and her eyes are pleading.

  “You’re the only one with power over me, Katniss. I only care for your wants and dislikes. I am yours to command, anyone else is disposable.”

  “How am I supposed to agree to these terms, Peeta? You… you’re- you molest women in their sleep! You get them pregnant against their will and nearly every one of them dies as a result of your encounters with them.” Her eyes fill with tears, but she doesn’t look away from my own. “I never want to have children. But that’s what you want from me, isn’t it?” She murmurs shakily, her body sagging into my chest. “I don’t want to die either. My sister needs me.”

  “Katniss, I’m obsessed with you, because you’re the sturdiest girl I’ve met. You’re a survivor. You don’t give up when you know the difference between death and survival is you. I’ve been investing my own powers on perfecting your body and preparing your internal organs so you’re in top condition for mating, sustaining a pregnancy and delivering a live half human, half demon child.”

  This stuns her a second. “You really were grooming me for years.” She sounds devastated. “I told you I didn’t want marriage, loving a man that could die and take away my will to live to his grave with him. It happened to my parents. I can’t abandon my children to their fate the same way my mother did to me and Prim. You knew all this. I told you all about it before… you still want me to… to—” she chokes back a sob and clams up.

  I’m aggravated with her. I had walked away from her, left her alone, freed her from my presence, yet she summoned me back here because she can’t let some fabricated debt go. I growl lowly, trying to keep my temper under control. She really won’t be able to survive my wrath, and I don’t want to harm her in an angry rush.

  “Since you insisted on calling me here, then I must inform you, you will become pregnant if we mate. That’s a guarantee. But I’m no man. I can’t die. I will never grow sick and time will never age me. My children won’t suffer human needs either. They’ll be strong and capable of hunting their own meals, much like you do now. If you can’t mother them properly, I will take them away and raise them myself. We have little room for negotiations at this point. Mating and childbearing are inescapable if you pursue the debt route.”

  “Kill me now then!” She snaps, trying to push away from me, but I keep her in place with my hands.

  “I will not kill you.” I say it like it is a command.

  “If I refuse to m-mate?”

  “Will you?” I counter. “Mating will happen on your terms. On your time.” My voice sounds gentler now, like it was before. “Then I’ll leave you alone for good if that’s what you want.”

  “You… you would?” She’s shaking all over.

  “My word is my bond.”

  “What should I call you? Master? Sir? Lord?”

  “Peeta. Just Peeta. That is my given name.” I tell her simply.

  “Why me? Why now?”

  “I don’t quite know. I just know you’re the one strong enough to stand the physical toil of carrying my offspring which has caused all the previous hosts’ demise.”

  She nods absentmindedly. I’m surprised when Katniss starts undoing the tiny buttons at the neckline of her gown, and slowly slips off my lap, to stand between my legs. I lose no time pulling the soft material covering her body down her arms, to pool at her feet. I stare at her naked torso and then at the apex of her thighs, drinking in her beauty with relish.

  “I’ve never seen you nude before.” I tell her in awe, rubbing my hands up and down her arms.

  “Let’s do this now. No sense delaying it. It would happen eventually anyway.” She says, shyly.

  She most see the greed and lust in my eyes, because she tries to cover her chest and the curly, black hair covering her sex. I remain seated on my chair, until she starts squirming under my heated gaze.

  “Do as you must, Peeta. Do it quickly.” She says after forcing her eyes back to mine.

  “You need to be more specific, Katniss. Otherwise I’ll stay planted here until dawn slashes me away.” I tell her arching a brow. I burn with desire for her, but I cannot move without her permission.

  She grunts and taps a foot impatiently. I smile at that. She’s still so strong willed even now, and so pure deep down; it’s endearing.

  “Take me, Peeta. Now. Mmm… sexually.” She punctuates.

  I can’t help smirking deviously. I stalk up to her and reach my hand to rest on the curve of her waist, gently pulling her forward.

  “I am going to kiss you now.” I purr into her ear.

  Kissing my partners is unusual for me, but this is Katniss. I take her lips with mine in a searing kiss that burns down my body. I lay her on the bed blindly, caressing her velvety skin tenderly.

  I’ve master the art of masturbating my conquests to assure lubrication, but other than that, I’ve never given thought to foreplay for the sake of pleasing my partners. I’m doing things here, I’ve never done before. Human lovers may be more adept at romancing, but I’m doing my best to pleasure Katniss with my hands, lips, tongue and words.

  I taste, kiss and nip at her skin. I tweak, pinch, knead and caress her flesh; I suck on her nipples and nuzzle the cleft between her thighs. She tenses, melts, and chokes back sounds on intervals every so often, not quite sure if she should resist me or enjoy the sensations I’m evoking in her.

  “Relax, Katniss. Clear your mind. Enjoy the moment.”

  She lifts her head in time to watch me take a long swipe of my tongue along her labia. Her head falls on the flat pillow and a soft moan escapes her sweet mouth.

  “You smell and taste divine.” I tell her while inserting my middle finger inside her warm, wet pussy.

  Finally, Katniss cries out my name, and I swear it’s the most intoxicating thing I’ve ever experienced.

  A second and then a third finger find their way inside her making her bow off the bed. She’s moaning loudly now. My thumb makes contact with a small kernel of flesh I haven’t really paid much attention to while with other women.

  Katniss shouts with the first few passes of my thumb, she begs me not to stop, to “please, please, please, keep doing that!” And I can’t resist lapping at the copious arousal bathing my hand and Katniss’ thighs.

  I’ve made women orgasm before, unintentionally of course. They cum just by the sheer size of my shaft, but it’s never been as extreme as this. My sweet, little Katniss arches off the bed, her shout dies in her throat, and then she falls on her back, convulsing and twitching.

  At some point her fingers tangled in my hair. She pulls on it every time she shudders her release, until she lays still.

  I sit up and catch my reflection on the oval mirror propped on Mrs. Everdeen’s night table, next to the blade her late husband used to shave his face. Both items remain in the same spot they were left at 6 years ago. Young Primrose polishes the reflecting surface everyday, readying it for a father that will never use it again.

  As I take a minute to inspect my appearance, I’m surprised I don’t have Gale Hawthorne features. I’m taken aback at how young and kind my face is. I guess I must be 16 or 17 in her mind’s eye. Blond, wavy hair. Warm blue eyes. Chiseled jaw, defined upper lip and a strong straight nose. I rip off the simple white button down shirt covering my upper body to find lean, defined muscles over a wide set of shoulders that look strong and used to manual labor. My skin is fair with a smattering of freckles and light blonde hair cover my arms. I realize this is what Katniss finds appealing. Whatever she’s attracted to.

  I look down at my trousers, and see flecks of flour on dark brown sturdy material. I find it amusing that she’s dreamt me off to be a baker of all things, but I guess in her mind, it makes sense. I did give her bread in the backyard of an abandoned bakery the first time we met.

  I will the rest of my clothes gone, and it disappears on the spot. I kiss her navel sweetly, and hook my elbows under her knees. When I sit up, I pull her hips towards mine.

  “My turn.” My voice is raspy and needy. Katniss nods, widening the opening between her thighs for me.

  “Will you… fit?” Her voice wavers, her gray eyes watch the turgid appendage between my legs nervously.

  My cock twitches. “I will fit, Sweetheart. Don’t you worry about it.” I assure her sweetly, caressing her outer thigh.

  She nods. “Okay.” She breathes out softly. “I’m ready.”

  Katniss gasps when I run the head of my dick through her wet, swollen folds, and without much ado sink my full, long girth into her in one swoop motion. She releases a breathless, long, drawn out moan once I’m seated all the way in. She’s so tight and warm, I wish I could freeze this moment, here, right now, and live in it forever. Alas, time is not something I have control over, so I give into my need and start moving.

  Katniss keens breathlessly every time I rock into her. She’s digging her blunt nails into the skin of my shoulder blades, after having hooked her slim arms under mine. Her face is practically buried into the hollow of my neck, letting me feel the brush of her lips and her hot breath against my pectoral with every thrust. Having her awake for this was the best decision ever!

  I kiss her sweaty forehead, and bury my nose in her hair. She always smells so good, like lavender and fresh rain. I kiss her temple, and then her cheek; lastly I kiss her lips and she sighs into it.

  “Does it feel good?” I ask her, genuinely interested in her answer.

  She nods faintly. “It feels… wonderful. Different. Strange. I feel so full, like I’m stuffed to the brim, yet I need more of you, of your… hmmm…”

  “Cock,” I supply. “Call it a cock.”

  “Alright.” She breathes out. “I- I think I like the feel of your… cock, in me.” She says rubbing her cheek against mine.

  “Good. Let me know when you get tired, and I’ll finish.”

  She gives me a frowning look. “You can do that at will?” She asks.

  I shrug. “Usually. Sometimes, when I’m to keyed in, I just explode after a few pumps. It’s not very often. But it’s happened.”

  “Well, I don’t want to rush you, but, my legs are starting to cramp up, so…” she winces.

  I chuckled and kiss her mouth again. “Alright, Sweetheart, your wish is my command. I’ll fill you up with my thick cum right away.”

  She’s trying to smile at my jesting words, but I pick up my pace before she can respond, and soon I’m driving into her like a possessed madman. It only takes a few pumps, but it takes almost a full 2 minutes to finish spilling my load into her. My hands aren’t idle during my release though.

  My thumb presses tight, fast circles against her clit, and my sweet, beautiful Katniss starts clenching and shaking with her own orgasm. I nearly mistake her body obviously reacting to my semen because she’s riding her release at the same time as her organs start knitting the embryo of my heir deep in her womb.

  Her body tenses, and breaks out into a high fever. She shivers and her lips turn pale and dry, her skin is ashen and papery, and her eyes are closed. She’s convulsing in my arms, but not in blissful orgasm anymore. Since I’m still inside her, I can feel every one of her muscles contract on my cock, and it is too much for me to bear, I pull out of her quickly and spill a second load just shy of her pussy. I gather her into my arms, and mumbled an incantation into her hair, holding tightly to her.

  I’m not allowed to pray, but that doesn’t stop me from pleading for her life over and over as I sit on the bed with her limp body cradled to my chest. “Please, don’t let her die. Please, don’t let her die. Please, don’t let her die…”

  Fuck! I don’t care if the child lives as long as she does… and I keep rocking her until morning surprises me, and Mrs. Everdeen walks in on me holding her almost dead daughter.

  ——————

  Katniss gives birth to a beautiful, healthy baby girl.

  The child looks completely human with a mop of dark hair on her head and the bluest eyes a child can have at that age. Still, rumors break out of the origin of the child, and people start attacking both Katniss and the babe when things start getting too weird for them.

  Mrs. Everdeen reluctantly accepts her daughter has mated with a demon, and has a very hard time looking her in the eye. I’m sure the fact that she sees me as an exact replica of her dead husband, has to have caused some psychological disturbance for the healer. It must have been unpleasant to walk in on her obviously freshly fucked daughter, limp and unresponsive in the arms of a man that looks just like the father of said daughter.

  Primrose is not allowed to stay in the same room with her sister and niece without Mrs. Everdeen present, and Katniss is livid about it.

  “I’ve practically raised Prim on my own at the age of 11, when you were too sick to care for anyone, least of all yourself! We are all alive thanks to Peeta!” She yells at her mother one day while bitter tears slide down her cheeks.

  Mrs. Everdeen asked Katniss to leave the house, after catching my reflection on the window glass while the baby nursed. The healer can’t stand my presence, let alone the appearance my body takes in her mind’s eye, particularly when I can’t hide my lust for Katniss regardless of the face I’m wearing.

  On top of the obvious, understandable reasons why Mrs. Everdeen wants nothing to do with her oldest daughter, she claims to be afraid I’ll go after Primrose as well, as if I could have the faintest interest in the young girl, when I only have eyes for the mother of my child.

  “Please don’t say that cursed name in this house, Katniss. That monster will be drawn to it.”

  “I can call his name whenever I want, because he’s the father of my child, your grandchild!” Katniss argues. “He has never done anything to harm us. He’s saved my life numerous times, and he’s fed us, and kept our health when he didn’t have to. You’re being unreasonable!”

  “She really is not.” I say in my most gentlemanly voice, as I shimmer into existence in the middle of their room. “Your Mother has reason to distrust me, but to displace her own daughter and brand new grandchild is cruel.” I say turning eyes full of fire to the woman cowering away from me.

  I go back to Katniss and smile, showing her only placid blue when she looks into my eyes. “Do not worry, Katniss. You’re mine to care for, and that I will do. As for your family…” When I shift my gaze to Mrs. Everdeen, my pupils have taken over the blue of my irises, leaving only a pool of empty darkness. “We will figure something out.”

  ————————-

  The babe nurses with vigor, and my favorite time of day is when I sit and watch the evening feedings. My fascination with the baby is offset by my ever growing lust, sparked by Katniss’ exposes breasts.

  When the child is asleep and safely tucked in her crib, I take Katniss to the living room of the grand house I built for her in the middle of the woods. I strip my lover of her clothing, piece by piece and drag her to her own bedroom, where the softest, most comfortable bed waits for us.

  She doesn’t want to be pregnant again so soon, so she bends over and lets me take her in the rear.  By the sounds she makes, I dare say she enjoys it greatly. Her pussy doesn’t stay neglected though; my fingers keep my sweet, beautiful mate satisfied and relaxed.

  I seldom need another body to satisfy me anymore, but until I have a mature offspring to take my place devouring the sleeping women of the world, I’m bound to keep prowling the Earth seeking to douse a dying lust for other cunts; my conquests all fall flat and insipid compared to the vivacious woman I have waiting on me back home.

  I’m not sure when Katniss’ place became Home for me, but it is the place I always return to.

————————

  Katniss starts hunting again six months after the baby is born.

  On the second day, the child sits in her pen while Katniss skins the game. The baby cries and cries until her mother picks her up and sits her on her lap as she works. Katniss shrieks when the child’s chubby hand plunges into the bucket of entrails next to the stool they sit on, and tries to bring the gore to her open mouth. The little girl throws a mighty tantrum, until she’s fed meat from a squirrel Katniss cooked. After that, the baby only wants to feed on game, not on vegetables and milk like normal babies.

  Katniss thinks it’s unnatural to feed a child so young meat, but she wasn’t truly frightened until a few days after the child’s first birthday.

  Primrose visits with her pet cat, Buttercup. Our baby grabs the feline by the tail and tries to strangle it with a choke hold worthy of a professional wrestler. Primrose nervously laughs it off as childlike curiosity and lack of force control, but Katniss knows better. Our child tried to kill and eat Buttercup.

  I knew it was time to take charge of the toddler.

  Katniss cries with guilt, because she now understands her own mother’s fears, but still hands the little girl over to me, to take to my realm. They get to see each other every day, and our daughter loves her mommy to death. They just don’t understand each other’s natures, and know it’s better to remain separate.

  Our daughter’s growth has accelerated in my realm, so she’s now at the level of a 5 year old child.

  “Will she kill humans?” Katniss asks me tearfully one night after my seed is drying between her thighs.

  I lean down and kiss her temple. “She might. She may become a Succubus. She may become something totally different. She’s still half human, darling. Only time will tell.”

  That’s poor comfort for Katniss, so she cries in my arms until fatigue takes over her. I can’t help myself. I fuck her again while she’s asleep, and this time I don’t pull out when my release is imminent. That’s when it happens again. Only this time the reaction is different. Obviously supernatural.

  Her breathing picks up, her mouth falls open, her skin starts to glow. I place my hands on her abdomen, where the glow is more intense. I push my erection inside her pussy, because I want to feel it happening from the inside, and the heat leaching from her walls is almost unbearable. Her forehead breaks into fat beads of sweat, her skin is burning up, and she shivers uncontrollably under my weight. I’m involuntarily cumming again. My hips can’t stay still, so I give in and piston into her at a frantic pace, digging her slim frame deeper into the mattress.

  Poor, exhausted, Katniss, passes out before I can pull out of her. Much like the first time, my mate is in a short coma for the next week.

  I make her mother tend to her like I did the first time as well. This time, Katniss delivers twin baby boys.

  There’s absolutely no doubt at all the infants are my spawn and hold the powers of the incubus. When Katniss holds them, they look exactly the way she sees me: soft blonde curls that fall on their forehead in waves, pleasant blue eyes like summer sky, long eyelashes that brush chubby, rosy cheeks. The boys look cherubic, and she can’t stop kissing them and showering them with attention.

  They’ve won over their grandmother completely as well. When Mrs. Everdeen takes them, the boys look just like Katniss: straight dark hair, gray eyes, olive skin. They have Mr. Everdeen’s chin. But if Prim is the one to hold them, they look completely different.

  The twins breastfeed exclusively, refusing any other nourishment well into two years of age. The boys are cunning, not showing any demonic tendencies, or habits that’ll scare Katniss away. Mommy— as they call her affectionately— is way too fond of them, and barely leaves their side. She’s lost weight and her skin and hair turned brittle, but her children come first all the time.

  They can’t fool me though. I catch them whispering thoughts into their mother’s head, planting ideas and fears she’s never had before, and I know it’s time to take them away when they don’t even try to hide their wrong doing from me, just staring boldly into my face, sporting identical smirks as they sing into Katniss’ ear they’re the only ones that love her in this world; they need her to care for them.

  Katniss fights me over them, until I show her how manipulative the little fuckers are: I’m fucking her in our bedroom while the boys are supposed to be soundly asleep in their own warm beds, instead, they sneak into our room and watch in fascination as I take her hard and fast. They snicker when my hand makes contact with their mother’s romp and I make the curtain fall, revealing their presence after casting a protective block on her mind against the boys’ trickery.

  Katniss scrambles to cover up her nakedness, but the boys ask excitedly when will they be able to do the same?

  I sit them both on my lap— that my mate has hastily covered with our sheets— and lovingly explain to my sons they will have their chance once they reach puberty. And the best part is, I’ll be able to retire!

  Katniss leaves the bed to wrap herself with a robe and watches my exchange with the boys disgusted from a corner of the room. Her limbs are tied into a tight ball, and her distress is palpable enough for the boys to pick up.

  “Not you mommy,” one of the twins clarifies.

  “Mommy belongs to you, father.” Adds the other one helpfully.

  “And she’s too sweet to break.” Explains the other.

  Katniss does not oppose me taking the boys after that.

  —————

  The third pregnancy nearly kills my Katniss.

  The baby’s aura is just too evil for her body to sustain. I conjure up my most powerful sleeping magic and cover her eyes with scales so heavy she stays asleep for three days.

  I take the child from her womb before she can wake up, but the little demoness survives.

  Katniss never gets to see her new daughter, and the child hates her mother so much I have no choice but to send her to the one place that can hold a being as dark as her. Deep into Hell.

  I tell Katniss the baby was stillborn and she never asks questions about it.

  ——————

  Katniss is 25 the day she becomes pregnant for the last time. She delivers a second set of perfectly healthy twins; a boy and a girl this time. Both completely human. Both looking exceptionally normal and nothing like me, except for their bright blue eyes. That trait could’ve come from Mrs. Everdeen and Primrose for all I know.

  I’m so out of my mind with rage, I terrorize poor Katniss by pretty much destroying everything in the house. I accuse her of sleeping with human men while I was away, Gale Hawthorne perhaps, since the babes have that Seam look to them.

  She denies it vehemently, bawling and pleading, so scared for her life, but shielding the newborns with her battered body after labor.

  I push her aside and stride to the crib, ready to smite the infants with a blow of my hand. She falls on her knees begging me to believe her, screaming her innocence, crying out my name pitifully. “Peeta, please, you have to believe me!”

  “Why should I?” I yell in her face.

  “Because… because… I love you, Peeta!” She cries out loudly, hanging from my wrist, my hand lifts her body off the floor wrapped around her delicate neck, squeezing it tightly.

  I see the petechiae forming in the white of her eyes. The oxygen in her brain will soon be too scarce to function.

  But she’s stunned me into silence.

  “No you don’t.” I slam her down to the floor gracelessly.

  Katniss’ tear stricken face looks up. She crawls closer to me ignoring her sore throat and neck. She tugs on my pant legs, pitifully. “I do, Peeta. It’s the truth.” She rasps painfully. “I’ve loved you since I was a little girl. I could never let any other man or being lay a hand on me. I’m in love with you.”

  “Well…” I struggle for something to say. I’m choked up, words won’t come to my aid. “You shouldn’t, Katniss. Nobody loves me. I’m a demon.”

  “And my body is your temple.” She pleads.

  But the imprint of my fingers marring her neck, are a reminder, not even living a thousand lifetimes atoning, would be enough to deserve her. “And look how well I look after my temple!” I speak mainly to myself, my voice dripping sarcasm and regret.

  “I am yours for eternity.” She vows placing my hand on her chest, where her heart is frantically pounding. “I give you my soul. Please, Peeta. No one has ever touched me, but you. I swear on all of our children. The infant twins included.”

  “Katniss! No!” I lament deeply, falling heavily on a chair the farthest away from the crib.

  “No what?” She murmurs, coming to caress my shins, then she massages my knees, and her nimble hands creep up my thighs, making a beeline for the fastenings of my trousers.

  My cock becomes hard as steel in a second. Katniss Everdeen has been the first and only human to perform oral sex on me. The way she falls on her knees to worship my cock with her mouth, and when it is evident my length will go down her throat only so far, her hands join the cult to my phallus and I loose all my faculties, along with my will to lord over her; I become her slave when her sweet mouth is around me, even when she’s the one in the servitude position. It’s one of the many reasons I know for a fact I could never leave her, is one of the reasons I know she’s my one true mate.

  But I ignore my erection and the all consuming need to be in her mouth. She’ll convince me to anything if I let her suck me off, then where will we be? There are more pressing matters than the gratification of my lust to consider.

  “Katniss, you shouldn’t have pledged your soul to me. That was foolish! Reckless. A gigantic mistake!” I tell her pulling at the roots of my hair, soft and silky, the way she likes it. “Now you truly belong to me, for eternity.” I tell her, and finally cup her cheek in my palm, tangling her dark tresses in my fingers.

  “Peeta, I live in the woods. Everyone has shunned me because I’m the Incubus’ whore. No one talks to me, but everybody fears me. I’m an outcast in this place. My mother barely stands to see me, let alone talk to me. My sweet sister is the only person who loves me and my children. In her eyes the kids are just her nieces and nephews despite their dark inclination, but Prim’s reputation suffers every time people remember we’re related, so I’ve been trying to keep my distance from her.”

  Katniss shakes her head sadly, and sits back on her haunches. “I chose you a lifetime ago. I knew the price of being your lover would be steep. I still choose you. Do you still not know this?”

  “Nobody has loved me before.” I mutter sadly.

  “Well, I do. And I will until you take me from this earth.”

  I nod, my mind resolved on what needs to be done.

  “The day the twins are completely independent, living their own lives, happily according to their own expectations, I’ll come for you, my beautiful mate.” I tell her. “Since these babies are human, they belong to you, and you will care for them until they reach maturity.

  “To makes things easier on you and them, no living human will remember anything about me. The children’s father will just be a foggy memory no one can quite recall. You will be safe, and I’ll be gone until time brings me back to you.”

  “And what of me? Do I sit here pretending I don’t miss you? Feeding our children lies about their father?“ She argues scowling at me angrily.

  “Sweetheart, I’m afraid you won’t remember much about me either.” I tell her firmly.

  “Peeta, you can’t! Peeta—“ She tries to catch my arm, her voice is full of anger and betrayal, but my enchantment is already done.

  “Until then… my love.”

  —————-

  The girl with dark hair and blue eyes dances on tip toes in the meadow. The boy with blonde curls and gray eyes tries to twirl like his sister, but his chubby legs can’t keep up.

  Katniss laughs merrily from her spot on the picnic blanket. I’ve never been good at staying away from her, but I’ve made an art of longing from afar without touching her, our the children. This time I can’t resist the temptation, and reach my index finger to brush away the lock of gray hair that has escape her loose braid.

  She shivers at my touch, and gathers her coat around her.

  “Children,” she calls, standing up and already folding the blanket, “it’s time to go home for the evening.”

  “Do we have to, Grandma?” Whines the little girl.

  “Yeah! Woo ve haf too?” Pipes up the toddler.

  “Remember, we promised mommy and daddy we’d come home early enough to take baths.” Says Katniss with a sweet smile.

  The little girl groans and kicks a pebble. Her brother tries to imitate the behavior, but can’t quite get the sass. Katniss rushes at them both, and takes them in her arms for hugs and kisses. The children laugh until they forget to grumble about cutting short their playtime.

  I gave my family new memories. Then I gave the whole district a similar version to complement.

  Katniss lives with our son and his family above the bakery we met at when she was a child. The walls leading up the apartment are covered with family pictures, full of love and happiness. There’s one single portrait of Katniss’ late husband among the pictures: a wide shouldered baker, with a riot of blonde waves on his head, summer sky blue eyes that match his twins’ perfectly, and a sweet lopsided smile that makes his widow’s heart swoon even now.

  “Tell us a story, Grandma!” Begs our grand daughter after her mother and father tuck her in bed.

  “Stowry!” Shouts the boy from his side.

  “Tell us about Grandpa and his watercolors!”

  Katniss laughs, and sits down on the children’s bed. She tells a beautiful story of how her husband used to paint beautiful pictures of flowers and plants for her, how her husband was a painter, and a baker, how he never put sugar in his tea, slept with his windows open, and always double knotted his shoelaces. I stare at my beautiful mate from the shadows, recounting a romance of great bravery, that defeated odds and trials, just to emerge victorious and true.

  I wish her memories were as real as the sweet smile they bring to her face.

  Rumor has it the baker died attacked by tracker jackers. A horrific and tragic death. Nobody wants to think about it, so they don’t. All anyone knows is that the Mellark’s are a respectable, loving family of bakers that had to survive without their beloved husband and father.

  Katniss learned her husband’s trade and passed it down to their twin children. Both very creative and skilled bakers in their own right. The boy married first at the age of 20. His wife is sweet and devoted and had her first baby the following year. The twin sister, decided to stay single and travel the world, learning culinary secrets from other places to improve the business back home. She returned recently with a dog in tow and has been trying to adopt an orphan girl she befriended in one of her travels.

  Katniss is almost 50 years old now. Tonight I’ve come for her. She’s lived a full, happy life reflected in the laugh lines around her lips and eyes. Her hair has streaks of gray all over; wrinkles and soft skin have appear on her face and arms, but she’s as beautiful as the day I left her.

  She’s asleep, and content. I almost regret waking her… but she’s mine, and I’ve missed her. The world is such a lonely place without her waiting for me everyday. Sure, I have my demonic clan to keep me company in the dark realm, but they’re all wreaking havoc on their own now, and fuck it, no other pussy compares to my mate, despite her human age. I haven’t taken another woman since I released the boys onto the world, they’re even more devious and manipulative than I ever was.

  The girls are the truly scary ones to be honest; they can kill any man with precision and never get a speck of gore on their pristine outfits. Deep down I believe it’s because of their mother’s hunting skills and stubbornness.

  I smile fondly at her, while hovering over her bed. I kiss her forehead, whispering the command into her mind. “Wake up, Sweetheart. It’s time to go home.”

  Slowly, her eyes open, and I see the bright gray hue I’ve missed so much all this years. A sweet, soft smile curls her lips slowly.

  “Hi, handsome. I’ve been waiting for you.” She says and accepts my kiss on her lips.

  “The adoption was approved.” I tell her quietly, of our daughter’s last pending matter. “The twins are already independent and have everything they’ve ever wanted. You did a beautiful job raising them. I’m here to collect you, darling.”

  “You look so handsome.” Katniss says “That silver hair suits you, and your wrinkles match my own. I always knew you’d look devilishly beautiful in your mature age. I’ve forgotten how striking you truly are, though.” She says caressing my cheek and smiling. “The children would loved to meet you.”

  “The children know their father loved them enough to give them a good life. They’re happy and have filling lives, It won’t do them any good to know me.” I tell her without self pity. “Now come, It’s time.” I take her hand, and help her up.

  “Oh!” She exclaims when her soul separates from her body. The wrinkles in her hands smooth out, her hair turns black as night and elongates to her waist that shrinks and tightens. She could be 16 again.

  She looks down at her old body lying peacefully in her bed, now an empty shell. Her eyes widen. “Am I dead?” She asks.

  I nod. “You pledged your soul to me, Katniss. It’s the only way we can be together for eternity,”

  “Will I get to see our children again?” She asks.

  “Any time you want.” I promise. “You’ll see and talk with the ones that live with me every day, but the ones we leave here, in the human world… They will feel your presence, but they will never see you again.”

  She looks sad about the news.

  “It’s the way of mortals, my love.” I tell her caressing her face tenderly.

  “It is.” She acquiesces, leaning into my touch, and then kissing the palm of my hand.

  “You gave them a good life and sweet memories to remember you by.” It’s not much, but it’s enough to get her to move on.

  “That I did.” She looks up at me, gifting me with a bittersweet smile. “Take me away, Peeta. I have so many hugs in store from the grand babies to give you.”

  “Then let’s not delay.”

  “You will really be content with me for eternity?”

  “Always.”

[rahirah]

Okay, I KNOW you've reblogged that "DVD commentary" meme at some point in your life, so: would you like to do DVD commentary on the opening scene of "My Baby Is A Centerfold"? (Or less detailed commentary on the whole "My Baby Is A Centerfold"?)

My Baby Is A Centerfold DVD Commentary

I wrote this story in 2004, fifteen years ago, so fair warning, I don't recall a lot of the minutiae that went through my head when I was writing it. However, I will do my best!

This was one of the first short stories I wrote set in the same universe as my novel series. I wrote it for the Summer of Spike community over on Livejournal – Summer of Spike was, I believe, the first of the "seasonal" fic communities, and inspired a lot of imitators (including Seasonal Spuffy and Summer of Giles, which are still going to this day) but it only lasted for a couple of rounds. Anyway, someone had recently asked me what happened to the Trio in my 'verse. I already knew that the Trio had started their careers as criminal masterminds while the events of Necessary Evils were going on, and that after NE ends, Warren would try enslaving Katrina in pretty much the same way, Katrina would end up dead, and Warren would try to frame Buffy. Buffy being in a very different frame of mind by this point in my 'verse, while she initially panics at the thought that she accidentally killed someone, Spike and Dawn are able to convince her to investigate first. And of course they discover that Katrina's been dead for several hours, so they call the police and that's when Terminal Line takes place, and Buffy makes first contact with Detective Nguyen, who becomes a recurring NPC and eventually the captain of the Sunnydale PD and is instrumental in Buffy's plan to bring the supernatural out in the open and ANYWAY.

For this story I wanted to do a lighthearted buddy cop sort of thing with Spike and Dawn, and it occurred to me that the Trio would have had to have set up their spy camera system, but since they all got arrested after the Katrina incident, they never had the chance to do anything with the footage. And in my 'verse, some of that footage would have been pretty racy. So what would happen if Buffy and Spike found out about it? The story pretty much wrote itself from there.

I could tell something was wrong the minute I walked in the door. The house had that too-quiet thundercloud feeling about it, and it wasn't just because of the blackout curtains. Buffy was still at the rink, Tara was at her summer job, and Willow was probably asleep (she's not as much of an early riser as Spike is). Normally this means an afternoon of bad TV and junk food with Spike, but the TV wasn't on. Spike always has the TV on.

So this story takes place between Necessary Evils and A Parliament of Monsters, when Spike has moved in with Buffy and Dawn, and Willow and Tara are renting the Summers's basement. It always bugged me that the characters on the show only had to worry about work when the plot required it. When the writers get bored, Buffy can suddenly support a dozen people on a starting school counselor's salary. So while I try not to make a huge deal of it in my 'verse, I do a lot of thinking about how everyone supports themselves. Especially people like Tara, who's sure as hell not getting any money from her family. And with Buffy I wanted to give her a day job that A) she would enjoy, and B) would be flexible with regard to slaying. Which is how she became a skating instructor.

When Spike moved in there was a whole big reshuffling thing, like musical chairs with bedrooms, and Spike ended up getting my old room as an office for Bloody Vengeance Inc., the demon-hunting business he and Anya started. I figured he was probably holed up in there downloading porn or something. Never overlook an opportunity to collect blackmail material is my motto. I dumped my library books on the couch and snuck upstairs with super-Slayer's-sister stealth, which wouldn't do me any good at all if Spike was actually, like, paying attention to his super-keen vampire hearing. Which apparently he wasn't, since I got all the way upstairs without a single physically impossible threat bellowed in my direction.

I had an argument about this with another fic writer once – she felt that Spike threatening Dawn with physical harm was abusive and horrible, and Dawn would be traumatized for life. I pointed out that A) it's canon that Spike does this when he's worried about Dawn's safety, and B) even if you're not a soulless vampire, it's really common for fear in a de facto parental unit to express itself as anger, C) does anyone seriously believe that Spike would ever follow through on any of those over the top threats? Seriously? And D) Dawn canonically blows off said threats and does not appear to actually feel threatened in the slightest. We ended up agreeing to disagree.

Spike was in the office, all right--I could see his hair glowing in the light of the computer monitor. I couldn't see what he was looking at, but whatever it was, it must have been really good, 'cause his eyeballs were practically SuperGlued to the screen. Or maybe really bad, because he looked horrified, not turned on. OK, what horrified William the Bloody? Besides the prospect of squiring Buffy to "Fantasy On Ice?" This I had to see. I rounded Spike's desk and peered over his shoulder. "Hey, mister, you got feelthy pictures?"

If it was Willow? Two clicks of a mouse's tail and whatever was in that window would be closed, password protected, PGP-encrypted, and accessible only through an FTP server in Outer Mongolia. Spike's way better with technology than some vampires I could name, but when he's taken by surprise he still resorts to more primitive methods. He scrambled around in his chair with the panicky flail of a cat falling off a windowsill and slapped a hand across my eyes. "Don't look!" he ordered, about half an octave higher than usual.

This story is full of early 2000s-computer jargon. It's not quite as dated as the show itself, but I give it the ol' college try.

Which meant it was a moral imperative for me to put some of that self-defense training he'd been giving me into practice and kick him in the shins--oh, come on, you'd have done it, too. "Fuck!" Spike yelled. He grabbed for his ankle, overbalanced, and banged his head on the edge of the desk as his chair rolled out from under him. He crashed to the floor, leaving me with a free-and-clear view of the computer.

For someone who's been accused of writing the Everybody Loves Spike Show, I sure have him behave like an idiot a lot.

Now, I want to make it real clear that I'm a sixteen-year-old of the world. I know all about the birds and the bees and the vampires. I've even done a little buzzing myself. And of course I know that my sister and Spike have--well, 'having sex' is way too tame for what they do. Anyway, I know all about The Sex in theory. I also know how sausages are made, in theory. That doesn't mean I'm panting for an up-close at the gooey details of either process. Especially when it involves a grainy RealPlayer file of my very naked sister bouncing up and down on my very naked best-friend-and-platonic-lust-object in Barbie's S&M Playhouse.

I may have written this whole story just to have an excuse to use the term "Barbie's S&M Playhouse."

I may have said something. It may have been 'gleep.' Luckily for my retinas, at that minute Spike lunged up over the edge of the desk and put his fist through the screen. The monitor exploded in a shower of pretty green sparks, and Spike stood there glaring at it all clenchy-jawed and snarly, breathing hard through his teeth. He turned the glare on me. "I swear by all that's unholy, Bit, the next time you sneak up on me like that I'm going to put you in a two-by-three box without benefit of hacksaw!"

Monitors! With! TUBES!!!

I glared right back--no way was he going to make this my fault. "How was I supposed to know you were watching Vampire Pervert Theater 3000?" I snapped. "I thought you were just watching NORMAL porn! Jeez, Spike, if you and Buffy are gonna to videotape your stay in the Satellite of Love, at least--"

I had another discussion with a beta about whether or not Spike would download porn. My argument was "He's a guy." 

Spike vamped out and hurled the monitor clean off the desk and into the wall with a roar (and when I say 'roar,' I don't mean 'loud yell,' I mean 'roar') of "WE DIDN'T BLOODY WELL TAPE IT!"

Wow. I never knew monitors were made up of that many pieces. "You mean you taped it without telling her?" I squeaked.

"NO!" Spike flexed his computer-punching hand (bloody knuckles, shards of glass, v. sexy) and shook off the lumpies. "Someone soon-to-be-departed did! I've never seen the sodding thing before in my life!" He looked really bewildered underneath the homicidal fury.

It's really very interesting to go back and compare Early Barbverse Spike to Late Barbverse Spike in terms of what progress he makes (or doesn't make) in controlling his temper over the course of the series. Hopefully I make the progression believable.

"OK, where did you find it?" I asked. I didn't exactly want to say so, but it occurred to me that maybe Buffy had taped it without telling him. Buffy may play it all Sandra Dee on the outside, but on the inside? Pure Gypsy Rose Lee. She had to keep it all bottled up during The Angel Years, and during The Riley Years she had to be really careful not to break him, and now, well--Exhibit A, currently lying in ten zillion pieces on the floor. "Was the file just sitting on your hard drive, or...?"

Spike looked super-guilty all of a sudden. His head ducked down between his shoulders, vampire ninja turtle style. "Mighthaveclickedonalinksomethin'boutSlayers," he mumbled.

"In other words, you were surfing for Slayer porn?" I folded my arms and settled in for some primo foot-tapping. "Don't you get enough of that at home?"

The interesting thing about the Buffyverse is that the supernatural ISN'T really a secret. Tons of people know about it. It's just no one admits to knowing about it. Which makes my Buffy's job a lot easier when she decides to drag it out of the closet. Which is a roundabout way of saying, if you know where to look, of course there would be Slayer fetish websites.

"I was not! I just...happened on it, like, looking for something else!" Spike is the world's second worst liar (Willow is the winner and still champeen) and he could see I wasn't buying it. "And anyway, it's a bloody good thing I did! Christ knows how long that's been out there for any spotty little deviant with their mum's credit card number to--" His eyes went Inuyasha-huge as fresh horror overtook him. "How long has it been out there?"

Barbverse Dawn is a Sesshumaru fangirl for sure.

"I'm more worried about who the cameraman was," I said. Spiders walked up my spine for a second. "I mean, that was your bedroom, right?"

Two seconds later we burst in through the door of Mom's old room, now Buffy and Spike's House of Ill Repute. I dove for the closet and Spike ripped open the door of the big old mahogany wardrobe he'd dragged over from the crypt. (But he didn't go inside, because as everyone knows, it's very foolish to shut yourself inside a wardrobe.) I stared at the crush of cute tops and kicky boots, ooh, I bet Buffy won't miss this one, she hasn't worn it in weeks... "How many shoes does she OWN?" I pulled a box free and the whole Leaning Tower Of Gucci collapsed on me.

My fic is usually a game of Spot the Narnia Reference

"Stop larking about," Spike growled, grabbing my feebly waving hand and yanking me out of the sea of footwear. "By the angle it's got to be around here somewhere..." He did one of those effortless vampire leaps and chinned himself on the top of the wardrobe, peering over the facade of wooden curlicues on the top. "Got the bastard!" He snaked one arm over the rim and jerked something small and black free, and dropped back to the floor with a thump. "What the hell...?"

It was a tiny, palm-sized camera with a little antenna sticking out of the top. Witness the creepiness. "I'm freaking out here," I said, plopping down on the bed. "Someone actually broke into our house and hid that up there!"

Spike snarled and closed his fist, and the camera joined the monitor in Electronics Heaven before I could yell, "Wait, that's evidence!"

"Not any more, it's not."

"It could lead us back to whoever planted it," I said impatiently. "We could have woken Willow up and had her...I don't know, do something technical."

This is why Spike needs Dawn around. She's the criminal mastermind in the family.

"Point." Spike shoved his lower lip out and scowled. "If there's one, there may be more. In fact, there's got to be."

I blinked. "How can you tell?"

He looked guilty and embarrassed again. "Ah, well, you see, the web site said...

For a guy supposedly unable to feel remorse, Spike does guilty and embarrassed very well.

*****

"Oh, as they say, my God." Xander stared at the tiny repeating clip with sick fascination. "'The Hottest Slayer in a Century Meets The Coolest Vampire Ever, and Guess Who Gets Staked! Sizzling Action With Cold, Dead Seed!' And this is just the teaser. You can order a whole DVD, only $49.99. Hours of fun for the whole family."

I am pretty sure that Jonathan got Andrew to write that advertising copy.

"Well, I must say both of you have excellent technique," Anya said with an approving nod. "And Spike has a large and well-formed penis, though personally I prefer circumcised men. But I can certainly understand why you're upset if you're not getting your rightful share of the profits."

"Spike, could you cool it with the growly noises?" Willow asked, her fingers flying over the keyboard. "It's distracting. OK, there's definitely more cameras... six at least. The Magic Box, the skating rink, Spike's crypt...this one's dead... Directory, directory, who's got the root directory...hah! Xander, hand me that Unicode list."

I actually researched what all Willow would have had to do to hack into and take over the camera network. I've forgotten it all now, but for about five minutes there, my skilz were l33t.

"What I still don't get is why someone bothered to break into our house and plant cameras," I said from the opposite end of the dining room table. I was staying as far away from follow-the-bouncing-Buffy as possible. "Especially considering Spike would have ripped their heads off if he'd caught them, and Buffy would have gotten REALLY mean. If you want to make a sex film, why not just go over to one of the frat houses on campus and hire a couple of college students?"

"I hate to say it, Dawnie, but I don't think they were making a porn film." Xander tore himself away from Willow's laptop. "This is surveillance camera footage. Someone's been spying on Buffy, and the porn film is just a happy byproduct."

"But that doesn't make any sense," Willow muttered. She picked up one of the larger camera fragments with a pair of tweezers. "Look, it's all dusty, and the battery pack was dead. This hasn't worked for weeks, maybe months. Do we have any toner cartridges we could break open? I think we could use the toner as fingerprint powder, and if whoever installed these left any prints, and if Spike didn't smudge them all up with his macho camera-crushing..."

This was back when printer cartridges had loose toner in them.  I had just come off working for a place where we bough giant bags of loose toner and refilled our own cartridges because it was cheaper, and by God, that stuff got EVERYWHERE.

"Oh, right, blame the victim," Spike groused. "Christ, I need a fag." He stomped over to the kitchen door, and I got up and followed him out to the back porch, which was in shadow at this time of day. He lit a cigarette and stood there puffing furiously, all formal and stiff, and it weirded me out. I mean, Spike doesn't just walk or stand or sit. Spike struts and lounges and sprawls and tucks his thumbs in his belt all "Hi, I'm Spike, and this is my crotch!"

On the other hand, somewhere underneath Spike, Vampire Sex God, is still a guy who grew up when ankles were an erogenous zone. "Spike...are you OK?"

"Didn't want you to see that," he said at last. "Not right. Not proper."

He looked absolutely miserable. Any other time I'd have patted his shoulder, but I figured I'd better roll my eyes instead. I leaned against the side of the house, ultra-cool and sophisticated and untroubled by the certain knowledge of Naked Spike a mere two layers of cloth away. "It's OK. Honest. It's not like I've never seen a naked guy before--"

So in my verse, as in canon, Dawn had a crush on Spike. And she knows perfectly well that Spike's in love with her sister, and doesn't see her that way. And she loves her sister, and wants her to be happy, and she doesn't want to be (as she puts it in another story) "pathetic" about it. So she's tried very hard to squash her crush down and pretend it doesn't exist. But sometimes...

That was a mistake. Spike went yellow-eyed, achieving zero to over-protective in six seconds. "And just who the hell--"

"You and Xander, dope, when we all went skinny dipping after that clambake. Get your mind out of the gutter." Of course vague glimpses of guy-parts decently veiled by darkness and ice-cold seawater and didn't quite, uh, measure up to, well, let's just say I'm going to be comparing my future boyfriends to Spike in more ways than one, but you know, I wasn't going to let this be weird. Spike is a total hottie, and maybe, just maybe there have been a few daydreams. Detailed daydreams. With a sound track and special effects. But there are hotties all over the planet, and not all that many guys you can talk to about important stuff like whether or not you really existed before two years ago, and whether the monks that created you remembered to add a standard-issue soul to the mix, and how incredibly annoying older sisters can be. "On second thought, I'm deeply traumatized. I think I might get over it if you talked Buffy into letting me get my navel pierced."

Spike stared at me, various bits of him twitching. "Dawn--"

I patted his shoulder, because I could. "You're gonna be inhaling filter in a minute. Let's go inside."

When we got back inside, Willow had bit and pieces of camera wired up to the laptop. "Curiouser and curiouser," she said. "The server this camera was supposed to send information to doesn't exist any longer, or at least, it's not turned on. The web site's on a regular commercial server, and the domain name's registered to Horatio Hellpop--pseudonym much? Good news, it looks like the site's only been up for a couple of days--" She broke into a triumphant grin. "We're in!"

"What're you waiting for, then?" Spike doesn't usually use his sire-to-minion voice on Willow, but he was using it now. "Take it down!"

It's not relevant to the tale at hand, so I don't belabor it here, but this Willow is a vampire with a soul. It's a long story.

"Patience, Grasshopper." Willow typed a few more cryptic strings of symbols into the laptop. "Bad news, it's going to take me a few hours to find out who the owner really is. I'll have to hack into Paypal to get his bank account info and track IP addresses and stuff."

I did not research what it would take to hack into Paypal. I have my limits.

Spike began pacing back and forth, tense and borderline vampy, looking like he really, really wanted to kill something. Or someone. "And in that time this berk could run off a hundred more copies and pass 'em out to friends as door prizes."

"Or keep them and sell fifty-seven of them to the list of people I'm downloading now," Willow said. "OK. I've disabled the site and changed the passwords, so no one will be able to order any more." She cracked her knuckles. "Give me six hours and I can clean out Larry Flynt Junior's bank account, ruin his credit history, and send anonymous tips to Donald Rumsfeld that he's a terrorist child pornographer." Willow's a little less scary without her magic, but really? Not by that much. She looked around. "Not that I would ever do anything like that."

I mean really. "Hacker" may be a 90s cliche, but I still wouldn't want one mad at me.

Spike snatched the list of names and credit card numbers off the printer and squinted at it. "Bloody hell. There's addresses all the way from Juneau to Key West." He looked at the list again, and smiled. Need I say it wasn't a very nice smile? "I think it's time to pay a visit to the locals. Could be some of them have an idea who they're ordering from. Harris, you want to take out the rest of those cameras, and--" He turned to Willow. "Will, when Buffy gets home, for God's sake don't let her suss out anything's wrong. If she finds out about this..."

My Spike still needs glasses, but is too vain to wear them. I have a number of canonical justifications for this headcanon.

All of us shuddered in unison. If Buffy found out there would be an explosion of thermonuclear proportions. Spike grabbed his motorcycle jacket and blanket and headed for the front door, and I leaped to my feet and ran after him. "Wait up! I'm going with you!"

He scowled at me. "I think not. You're going to stay here, and distract your sister like a good little minor."

"Uh-uh." I used all of my hey-Dawnie's-tall-now height to advantage. "Look, Spike, all this stuff getting out does to you is make you mad. If Buffy finds out, she's going to be..." I floundered for a minute. " Humiliated, and nobody humiliates my sister except me. I'm gonna go with you, and we're gonna find out who did it and...and... kick their butts with pointy-toed shoes."

Spike glared, but it was the old I-disapprove-on-principle-but-you're-all-right,-Niblet glare, and I knew he'd be caving in ten, nine, eight... "Move yer girly arse, then," he said with an unconvincing growl. "We've got villains to apprehend."

I scooted for the DeSoto before he could change his mind. Maybe he thought that it would be a good idea to have someone soul-having around when he was this mad, just in case. Or maybe, and I really prefer this version, he just wanted a partner in crime because it's more fun that way. Spike flung the blanket over his head and copied my dash for the car, and we flung ourselves into the DeSoto's dark interior just as Spike was beginning to sizzle. "You come along, you mind what I tell you, yeah? I say stay in the car, you stay in the car. I say you run, you run. I say you take that fucking pathetic excuse for music out of the CD player and toss it out the window--"

"--and I ignore you like always," I said cheerfully, turning up the Jennifer Lopez.

"Fine. If anyone dies tonight, it's on your head. Some things are beyond any self-respecting vampire's endurance." Spike slammed into reverse and backed out of the driveway with a screech of tires. I grabbed the door handle. Driving with Spike is always a character-building experience, and today was no exception. "First on the hit parade?"

I scanned the list. "Vernon Blakely, 1583 East Beechwood. What are we gonna say to Mr. Blakely when we get there?"

Spike gazed out through the little clean space in the windshield, obviously pondering which limb he should rip off first, and peeled out like there was a mob with torches after us. "Improvisation is a virtue, Bit."

I had absolutely no idea how they would get the DVDs back. The next several scenes are just me letting the characters take the reins and do whatever the hell they wanted to.

**********

Spike was smoking gently beneath his blanket when the shade-deficient door of 1583 East Beechwood opened to our urgent hammering, and a middle-aged guy with thinning red hair and freckles and a pot belly opened it and blinked at us. He looked like Mr. Weasley gone to seed. "Mr. Blakely?" I said with my brightest, shiniest smile.

The Blakely looked from me to Spike, and the contrast seemed to produce some kind of cognitive dissonance on his part. "Can I... have we met?"

"Only in spirit." Spike leaned heavily against the doorframe, with a smile that was probably supposed to be reassuring, but which made him look like he was sporting fangs even when he wasn't. Spike isn't a big guy--in fact, he's on the smallish side, but he's got, you know, muscles. And this air of being able to rip your liver out. Also did I mention the muscles? "I'm given to understand you made a purchase recently from...ah..." He glanced surreptitiously at the paper in his hand. "...Mad Genius Productions?"

Mr. Blakely looked at me, dubious, and at Spike, nervous. "What of it? If I'd done anything like that, which I didn't."

"We're from the, uh, department of quality control," I chirped. "The DVDs are..."

"Radioactive," Spike put in. "Rot your goolies off just like that. " I gave him an elbow-jab.

"Defective," I said firmly. "Glitches. Pixelization. It's criminal the kind of shoddy merchandise we put out. We're recalling them and giving you a replacement at absolutely no charge!"

Spike held up a jewel case and flashed it under Blakely's nose. "Director's cut. Added scenes. 40% more filth for the price."

Suspicion was gathering in Mr. Blakely's watery blue eyes. "Hey, you're that guy from the video," he said.

Spike heaved a melodramatic sigh. "All right, all right, as you've twisted my arm, I'll autograph it for you."

I honestly did not expect him to say that, but somehow there I was, typing it.

The watery eyes brightened. "Really?"

Five minutes later we were dashing for the car again, with the confused Mr. Blakely waving us goodbye. "So what's he going to do when he discovers he's been suckered for a bootleg copy of J-Lo's latest?" I asked, as we tore away from the curb.

"Long as it's got some bint with her tits hanging out on the cover, I doubt he'll notice the difference." Spike grinned. "There'd just better be some hitting involved in the next one."

**********

"I don't believe there's any such thing as a Department of Quality Control," Mr. Angusson said, looking us up and down. "What the hell kind of scam are you pulling?"

"All we want to do is to replace--" I started.

"Look, missy, I bought that DVD nice and legal, and I don't give a crap if whatever goombah and his girlfriend put on plastic fangs to do it is having second thoughts now. So you and your boyfriend just toddle off and--"

"HEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPP!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "HE'S SHOWING ME HIS THING! IT'S ALL GROSS AND PURPLE AND--"

I didn't expect Dawn to do that, either. And yet!

Angusson disappeared and reappeared in two seconds flat, chucking the DVD at our heads.

"Better," Spike said as we tore out yet again. "But I'm still feeling a lack in the hitting things area."

Mr. Fishbein retreated a step from the threshold. "I'm not giving you anything, and I'm not letting you in," he quavered. "What do you think I am, stupid? You're a vampire!"

Honestly, it's Sunnydale. SOMEONE has to get it.

Spike rolled his eyes. He's learned from the masters. "Oh, bollocks, you don't really believe--"

"Oh, yeah?" Fishbein challenged. "Step through that door!"

I stepped through the door, grabbed Fishbein's hand and gave him a good hard yank, right across the threshold and into Spike's waiting fist.

"What was that?," Spike caroled, drawing back for another punch. "Come on in and have a cuppa, Spike? Better repeat it, I'm a touch deaf in that ear."

"That was unnecessarily bloody," I said as we hopped into the car and stepped on the gas, one DVD richer.

"He'll live," Spike said dismissively. "Probably. Next?"

**********

I figured I had to give Spike SOME violence, or he'd get mopey.

"Can you see--?" I hissed, trying to get a better view through the front window. It was getting dark, and I was out of practice at sneaking around not-really-abandoned buildings. Spike shushed me and crept around to the door. I peered through the sad straggly thevetia hedge, cupping my hands against the dirty glass. The place was just crawling with innnnnnteresting monsters, all huddled around a crappy old black and white TV. There's some law against demons watching flatscreen color, apparently.

"Oh, my God, are they really...you know....doing it?" The Gorthesch demon bumped a couple of Fyarls further down on the couch and plunged a scaly paw into the bowl of popcorn as they all stared at the flickering screen. "With a Slayer? I mean, I heard about it, but I didn't think even a vampire could sink that low."

"Real vampires don't," the lone vampire in the crowd protested, voice dripping disgust. "Maybe great big Slayer-whipped pussies do, but--"

"Shut up!" came a chorus of squeaky, growly, and croaky voices. Despite the complaints, everyone seemed to like the show. There were tongues hanging out. At least, I hope they were tongues.

"Yeah, it's just gettin' to the good part," a Syvithis demon whispered.

"Oooh! The one with the pommel horse?"

"No, where the Slayer goes down on him in the graveyard and he--"

I actually wrote a PWP detailing all the scenes in The Spuffy Sex Tape. An edited-down version eventually got incorporated into A Parliament of Monsters, when Angelus gets a hold of one of the copies that Spike and Dawn aren't able to track down in this story.

The front door imploded with a crash, splinters flying everywhere, and Spike strode into the room over the wreckage, a gleam in his eye and a really, really big axe slung over one shoulder. He surveyed the assortment of demons with a grin almost as big as the axe and about twice as vicious, ran his tongue over his teeth and and tucked his free thumb in his belt loop, fingers splayed over the merchandise. Just like old times. "Looks like you're right, mate," he said. "We are just getting to the good part."

**********

"OK, I take it back," I said as we headed for home. "THAT was unnecessarily bloody." It was after midnight, and we'd collected twenty-two DVDs, broken and entered fifteen houses and/or lairs, killed or maimed eight demons, broken five human fingers accidentally-on-purpose, and signed two autographs. Spike had definitely achieved his hitting things quota, and it was a safe bet that no one in Sunnydale would be mentioning Spike and Buffy's brief but eventful movie career in public any time soon.

"All right, p'raps the railroad spike was a bit much, but a bloke gets nostalgic." Spike stretched, all luxurious and satisfied, and lit up a fresh cig, trailing smoke out the window. He had a black eye and a split lip and a scrape right across the place where his cheekbone goes all knife-edgy, and the stretching made things creak inside that probably weren't supposed to creak, but he was in a much, much better mood. "He'll grow a new head."

Where did Spike get a railroad spike on short notice? I have no idea. He's just resourceful that way.

"If you say so," I said, a bit dubious. "Doesn't that only happen when you cut the old one off?"

"So it'll take a bit longer." Spike bounced a little in his seat, all hepped up on the old ultra-violence. "Still haven't found the bastard who's selling the things, though. Must be a bleeding criminal mastermind if--" I Wanna Be Sedated beebled from the cell phone in his pocket. (Like I said, a lot better with technology than some vampires I can name. He can even program it, though considering the songs he picks, sometimes we wish he couldn't.) He grabbed the phone one-handed and didn't slow down even a bit as he zipped through freeway traffic. (Well, he is evil.) "Yeh? You must be joking. You must be--fuck. That little--I'll tear his soddin' head off! Yeh, I know. I'll just bruise him a little." He clicked the phone off and stuffed it back in his pocket, spun the wheel and zigged across four lanes of traffic towards the off-ramp, leaving a chorus of screeching brakes behind us. "After I tear his soddin' head off."

"Where are we going?" I yelled.

Spike hunched over the wheel, eyes grim. "Off to see the wizard."

We pulled up in front of one of the cruddy lease-by-the-month apartment buildings over by the UC Sunnydale campus. Maybe it was the same one Dad and I stayed at when he came down from L.A. to take care of Buffy's estate that time she was dead--the second time, I mean, not the first time. Some of the grease spots in the parking lot looked familiar.

It just struck me as I was describing the building that it was almost identical to the one I'd described in Necessary Evils, so I thought I'd better lampshade it.

"Apartment 42B, Will says." Spike sucked in his cheeks and narrowed his eyes, scoping out the disintegrating stucco overhead. "There at the end." He slapped his hands together and bounded towards the stairs like he was scaling Everest. I followed like I was scaling a rickety stepladder. (Hey, lack of supernatural stamina here. I was getting pretty darned tired.) The lights were on in 42B, and we paused outside the door, which was painted in barf-making 80s turquoise. Spike pounded on it with one fist. "Open up! Land shark!"

I heard some rustling and thumping noises inside, and a crash like a bookcase falling over. "Go away!" a strangely familiar voice yelled. "You can't get in here anyway!"

"Yeh? Maybe not, but I can stand out here till you starve to death. Or set the building on fire, or...uh..." Spike paced the catwalk for a second, smoking like a fiend, which I guess is appropriate. I was pretty sure the fire thing was a bluff, since Spike's not usually one for indirect mayhem. He's got the whole hitting things fetish, after all. Then his eyes lit up and he grinned. "Maybe I can't walk through your door, but there's nothing says I can't kick it down and send in my terrible mute minion, Paco." He whirled around and unleashed one of his shitkicker boots at the door. BANG! The whole building shuddered (which sounds impressive, but considering it was probably made out of pressboard and Kleenex, isn't so much). WHAM! A hinge sprung and the doorframe cracked. I buffed my nails and waited--obviously Spike was holding back.

I don't know why more vampires don't do things like this.

"I'm gonna lose my deposit!" the voice inside wailed.

"My heart bleeds. Oh, wait, no it doesn't. Open up, or--"

The door flew open, or tried to (Spike had knocked it kind of cattywompus, and it stuck halfway.) A face peered out, pale and pear-shaped and nervous under slept-in dark hair. Behind it was a barren little studio apartment littered with pizza boxes, comic books, and boxes of DVDs and padded mailers. There was practically no furniture except a mattress and a desk with a pretty sweet computer and home studio setup.

My hand shot out and I grabbed Pasty-face by the ear and pulled, hard. "Jonathan?!" I yipped. Jonathan squirmed and batted at me, but I dug my nails in. "YOU'RE the criminal mastermind?"

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!" he yelled. "Let me go, don't let him kill me, I didn't mean to, it's not my fault!"

"Oh, for God's sake, quit whining," I snapped, letting go. "Spike hasn't even touched you."

Spike took a drag on his cigarette, peeled himself off the railing and sort of glided over, all slouchy and menacing, with the angle of the floodlights leaving black caverns where his eyes should be. Jonathan squinched in on himself. "You just don't learn, do you?" Spike asked, soft and pee-your-pants scary. "How long've you had those cameras on us?"

Jonathan backed away with a panicky shuffle. "They're not mine! They were Warren's, and they haven't worked since the police confiscated all his computer stuff! Honest! I just happened to have some files I'd saved for, for--"

"Wanking material?" Spike asked, excessively sarcastic.

"Research!" Jonathan reached the wall and sat down very abruptly. "I didn't mean anything by it! All I wanted was to raise some money so Warren and Andrew could get a better lawyer! Someone who knows about demon-related cases, like Goldberg & Osbourne, or Wolfram & Hart. I didn't think you'd ever find out, and I'm really, really, really sorry, please don't kill me, please, please, PLEASE don't kill me--"

Goldberg & Osbourne is a real law firm in Phoenix, AZ, known for being sleazy ambulance-chasers. A joke that only I ever got.

"Didn't mean anything by dragging a lady's reputation in the dirt?" Spike roared (and again, by roared, I mean, well, roared). He grabbed Jonathan by his Robotech jammies and hauled him up nose-to-nose--Jonathan's one of the few guys Spike can look down on. "Well, maybe I won't mean anything when I rip your balls off and stuff them in your eye sockets, how's that?"

"Why?" I asked, grabbing Spike's arm. I realized I'd been wanting to ask that question for a long time. "Why, Jonathan? I mean, I get Warren and whatsisface--they had grudges against Buffy, but you used to be--" Well, not her friend, not really. "She saved your life! You gave her the Class Protector award! She let you off the hook when she turned Warren over to the cops--you were an accessory to murder, Jonathan, and she let you go! I don't get it. Why are you helping them?"

Jonathan yanked his pajama top out of Spike's grip and pulled himself up like he'd taken a dose of Insta-Spine. "Because they're my friends," he said, very simply, meeting Spike's yellowing eyes head-on. "And I know they're not much, but they're all I've got. Whatever else happens, you've got to stand by your friends, right? Or what's the point?" He sighed, squared his shoulders, and looked up at Spike with a little smile. "It's a fair cop. I guess you'd better do whatever it is you're going to do."

I wanted Jonathan to redeem himself a little bit, kinda?

Spike stood there looking at Jonathan, head cocked in the His Master's Voice pose he gets when he's trying really, really hard to figure out the motivations of the souled. And I knew what was going through his head. Spike was looking for a reason not to kill him.

See, Spike doesn't have a soul. He doesn't do good stuff because it's right. He can't. He's not wired that way, as he puts it. But he can do good stuff if there's a reason--like if it helps him somehow, or makes someone he loves happy. Or if it makes him feel, for a minute, like he's a man and not a monster, which is a feeling he really likes. And that's the cool thing about Spike, the thing I really love about him, and I think probably the thing Buffy loves too: not the cheekbones or the attitude or the mad combat skilz or what's under those jeans, but that he does like that feeling, and so Spike looks for those reasons. Looks real hard. Harder, I think sometimes, than some people with souls.

I'm just sayin'.

"Right," he said at last. And he hauled off and punched Jonathan right in the nose.

"YEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOW!" Jonathan fell over, clutching his face, and gore splattered everywhere. "By dose! You broge by dose!"

But still, well, evil.

"Just be glad that's all I've broke," Spike said. He wiped his knuckles on his t-shirt instead of licking the blood off, which was a pretty big compliment, really. Congratulations, Jonathan, you've graduated to Not-Food! "Christ, where's the fun in beating the shit out of a pathetic little wibbling sod like you?" He pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket (that's another moderately cool thing about Spike: he carries pocket handkerchiefs) and tossed it to Jonathan. "Grab the goods, Bit. It's time to call it a night."

Jonathan sat there snorfling blood into the hanky while I ferried the DVDs and Jonathan's hard drive out to Spike--I figured Willow could check it out for contraband and return it, so we weren't stealing it exactly. As we started down the stairs with the last armload, Spike turned back to Jonathan, almost amiable. "Word to the wise. I don't forget what your friends put Buffy through. If you want to do your pals a real favor, maybe you ought to remember that while I'm out here, and they're safe in stir, no one's likely to get eaten accidental-like, eh?"

Now this! At the time that I wrote this, I had NO IDEA that Warren would come back and cause trouble later, and that Spike would, in fact, end up eating him. Indeed, by the time I wrote "The Lesser of Two Evils," I had completely forgotten that I'd written this line, and when I stumbled upon it when re-reading a couple of years later, it was this totally serendipitous piece of foreshadowing. Sometimes writing is so cool!

Jonathan stared at him, and nodded a little. And we left.

**********

It was past two o'clock when we got home. We locked the DVDs in the trunk of the DeSoto, which had been the closet for a lot of other skeletons in its day, and after a short consultation on how to best avoid Ordeal By Buffy, we strolled into the house as if we were coming in from a late patrol and nothing in the universe was wrong.

Willow was still tapping away at her laptop in the dining room. "I'm just tracking down the copies on eBay," she whispered, "and sending out fake cease and desist orders from Mad Genius Productions. Buffy's in bed. She doesn't suspect a thing." She noted our alarmed glances and added, a bit huffily, "Don't worry, Xander took care of the the subterfuge part. Did you get him?"

"Yeh, he's got." Spike rolled his head and rubbed back of his neck. "Battle of the ages. Christ, I'm glad that's done with." He eyed our crumpled list of victims thoughtfully. "Wonder if I could fake a business trip to Juneau."

"Don't press your luck," Willow said drily.

"Someday I'm going to sire someone with a minimum of respect for their elders," Spike growled.

Willow grinned, smug. "And they'll bore you so much you'll stake them inside forty-eight hours. Shoo. Buffy's waiting for you."

So we headed for the stairs, and as I put my foot on the first step, I heard Spike heave a big sigh behind me. "Thanks, Bit. Couldn't have managed without you." When I looked back, he was staring at the toes of his boots, all awkward and embarrassed. "I just hope this hasn't... hasn't..."

"Spike, I'll always think of you as my brother." I waited two beats, and added with a perfectly straight face, "My brother with the enormous schlong."

I got three whole steps before Spike came after me and chased me all the way upstairs.

This story is the second of three I wrote ("The Road to Byzantium" and "A Dark and Stormy Night" are numbers one and three) which has Dawn moving on from her crush and into a more grown-up friendship with Spike as a major theme, and hopefully it works. And they all lived happily ever after, at least until I got another idea!

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Forgotten Alliance Ch. 30

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x OC with other parings mentioned throughout.

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Canon Typical things

Author’s Note: As a reminder, FA can be found on ffnet up to chapter 42. I am uploading chapters here on tumblr for convenience. I decided against tagging this until new chapters are posted. If you would like to be tagged please let me know! Chapters are queued and will be posted randomly.   Enjoy

Laughter had filled Elizabeth's ears as she had chased after Hope around the yard. As much as Elizabeth had the world on her shoulders, it never failed that this little girl had brought a smile to her face. It was good to get away from the world that had awaited her the moment she got back to New Orleans. There was no stopping anything from happening there while she was away and it would all be there when she got back. But for now, she was enjoying her time making one little girl happy to have someone other than her mom to bond with.

Elizabeth knew that Hayley was being cautious when it came to anyone getting close to Hope. Keeping others away from her would make it so much easier to hide Hope. It also made it so when Hope had her spouts of accidental magic, no one would notice it or be injured in the process. With Hope, there were several things that Elizabeth had noticed the past day she had been there. Hayley said it was rare for Hope to ever throw a tantrum, but when she did it was more shocking than annoying to see what actually happened. Hayley had explained and Elizabeth had actually got to witness a tantrum that messed with the electricity. Hope decided that she wanted to destroy the living room and when she did and Hayley sat her in time out, it left them in the dark for a good few hours.

It had amazed Elizabeth how much her powers were trying to come in and it made things harder on Hayley since she wasn't a witch and knew nothing of trying to get her daughter's magic to calm down. Elizabeth had promised Hayley that the next time they made it into the dream world, she would ask Freya about what Hayley could do. From time to time, Elizabeth had thought about calling Jess to see if maybe there was someway she could give Hayley some help, but Elizabeth didn't want to bring more people around Hope. It was better to keep her hidden from the supernatural world for as long as they can.

Even as Hope ran around the yard, every now and again, Elizabeth would notice a hint of the vampire side that would make its way to the surface. Hayley and Elizabeth had seemed to think that Hope still had no clue that she was actually running a bit faster than any normal toddler would. If anyone else had actually seen her running in that moment, one would think that Hayley had given her child a sugar feast or the child was on some kind of drugs.

"Got you." Elizabeth said as she picked up Hope and spun her around. Hope let out a fit of laughs and held tightly to Elizabeth as she spun around. Once Elizabeth stopped spinning, Hope immediately gave Elizabeth a pout.

"You cheated Liz." She said crossing her arms.

"How exactly did I cheat?" Elizabeth asked with her eyebrow raised. It still amazed Elizabeth at how much Hope had grown in this time.

"You are a Vampire." She said making her pout a little more prominent and pointing at Elizabeth. Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and looked at Hayley, who just shrugged with a smile on her face. Elizabeth knew that Hayley wasn't going to keep secrets from her daughter. Hope was unique and even Elizabeth wouldn't want to keep it from the girl she was holding in her arms.

"Okay fine. No more cheating." Elizabeth said as she placed her down on the ground. "I'll be as human as I can be."

"Is that even possible?" Hayley asked from her spot in a chair, watching them. "You've been a vampire for how long now?"

"Hey, no talking about a woman's age." Elizabeth said with a laugh. "I'm sure I can remember the basics of being human."

Hayley shook her head slightly with a smile on her face. Elizabeth watched as Hope walked over to a sandbox and started playing with the toys that were in it before walking over to where Hayley was and taking a seat next to her.

"So besides getting Freya's cure, what is new in the Quarter?" Hayley asked as Elizabeth took her seat.

Elizabeth wasn't sure where to start. She sighed before looking at Hayley. "Aurora is dead."

Hayley straightened up in her seat and looked over at Elizabeth. "What happened? I though Vincent had locked her away."

Elizabeth laughed. "You know nothing stays hidden in that city." She shook her head slightly. "She got out and caused a bit of trouble before I ripped her to pieces."

"But she knew you had taken the serum." Hayley said confused. "Why would she want to start trouble with you there."

Elizabeth smirked a bit. "It is always a game with her. Old habits die hard. And I ended the game."

"Did anyone get hurt in the process?" Hayley asked.

"Yeah." Elizabeth said with a nod. "She was after a young witch that was family."

"Who?" Hayley asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Her name is Veronica." Elizabeth said looking out to where Hope was. " She barely even knew she was a witch. Her parents had moved her out of New Orleans. She came back on a trip with friends when Aurora attacked her the first time."

"How many times did she try to kill her?"

"Three." Elizabeth said looking over at Hayley. "That was when I tore her to shreds."

"You could have asked me for help." Hayley said with a nod.

"And take you away from Hope, I think not." Elizabeth shook her head. "I was able to handle it and that was all that mattered."

"Don't I feel unwanted." Hayley said with a small smile.

Elizabeth laughed. "You have Hope, Hayley. She doesn't need to be brought into whatever problems we have in New Orleans."

"I know." Hayley said sighing. "Its just hard to sit here and play human for a while."

"This human?" Elizabeth said chuckling. "You have a daughter that left us in a black out the first two hours I was here. There is nothing human about this."

"You're right." Hayley smiled. "She's enough to make this feel so unhuman like. But at the same time, I don't know how to help her control it."

"That's why later, I'll talk to Freya." Elizabeth said reminding her.

"May I ask why you didn't want to visit them last night when you got here?" Hayley had been curious as to why Elizabeth had wanted to wait until today to have a visit with the Originals. It had been one of the reasons Hope had been upset about.

"It had been a long day." Elizabeth said sighing. "On top of that, there are just some things I am trying to mentally prepare myself for."

"Like what?" She asked as she looked over at Hope to see that she was still in the sandbox enjoying herself.

"The last time we had our visit, I promised Elijah that I would tell him why I am afraid of the vision Jess had." Elizabeth said before sighing.

"I never asked before, but what did her visions show?" Hayley looked back over at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth looked down at her hands for a moment. "That with time they would wake up."

"That is a good thing, Liz. What is there to be afraid of?" Hayley asked.

"It is what comes after they are awake that has me scared." Elizabeth admitted. "Things will be different and there are some things that only apply to my future."

"You'll be fine though." Hayley placed her hand on top of Elizabeth's. "We'll get through it, whatever it is."

Elizabeth could only nod. She may only know what would be behind those doors, but she knew nothing of what would actually would happen behind them. She had no clue how much different things would be from the last time she had been there.

"History will repeat itself." Elizabeth said with a nod. "At least for me that is."

"There are ways to change things. Not everything is set in stone." Hayley said as she got up from her seat to go spend some time with Hope.

If only you knew the truth. Elizabeth thought as she watched Hayley helped Hope build something. Elizabeth had once believed that nothing was set in stone. She had lived as carefree for the most of her vampire life. It was after she meet Jess that things had changed completely. Her way of thinking had changed so much. She never asked Jess how long it would take to find the cures. She only asked the selfish question as to how long she would be trapped in a place that she wished never existed. She could easily ask Jess for that specific information. But she knew what would happen after learning that. She would sit back and do nothing. That wasn't what she wanted to do.

"Liz!" Hope's voice broke through the thought's playing in Elizabeth's head.

Looking up, she found Hope right in front of her and smiled at her. "What do you want to do next?" She asked.

"Can we see Aunt Bekah?" Hope asked looking hopeful.

Elizabeth smile grew a bit. "How about we go get some ice cream first and then we'll give them a visit."

Hope's eyes lit up with excitement as she looked at Hayley. "Can we?!"

Hayley looked at Elizabeth shaking her head slightly. "I don't think that is a good thing."

"Oh come on." Elizabeth said. "There is an ice cream shop not to far from here. We can easily compel anyone that is there."

"Yeah, mom!" Hope said nodding. "We can do what Liz said."

Elizabeth laughed and watched as Hayley huffed. "There are still risks."

"Please, Hayley." Elizabeth said making a pouting face.

Hope watched Elizabeth as she did and copied her. "Please." She said looking at Hayley with puppy eyes.

"Fine." Hayley said crossing her arms. "We'll make it a quick trip."

"Yay!" Hope said running towards the house.

Elizabeth chuckled and stood up from her seat. "She needs some kind of interaction with people, Hayley."

"I know." Hayley said sighing.

"I promise we will make this a memory she'll keep forever." Elizabeth said nodding.

"I'll hold you to it." Hayley said walking towards the house.

An hour later, Elizabeth had everyone compelled and made it so that they were the only one's allowed in the shop for the next hour and a half. They were currently sitting at a table with a huge bowel of ice cream in front of all three of them. They each had a spoon digging into the several flavors that filled it.

"And what do you like to do when you aren't in your mom's hair?" Elizabeth asked before putting a spoon full of ice cream into her mouth.

"I like to paint." Hope said as she bounced in her seat with her spoon in her hand.

"Who else do I know that likes to paint?" Elizabeth asked as she tapped her spoon.

"My dad." Hope said with a mouth full of ice cream.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Hope." Hayley said watching Hope. Hope nodded before picking up a napkin and cleaning her face.

"Do you have any of my dad's paintings?" Hope asked.

Elizabeth thought for a moment, she had gotten rid of everything that had been destroyed the night everything had went to hell. But she had remembered there were several paintings that she had placed into one of the rooms she had for storage.

"I have a few." She said nodding. "Would you like me to bring them the next time I visit?"

"Yes please." Hope said with a smile on her face.

"Is there anything else you would like for me to bring?" Elizabeth asked before taking another bite of ice cream.

Elizabeth watched as Hope had the spoon in her mouth and ate what she had in her mouth. But before she even answered, Hope seemed to be thinking about what she wanted.

"Toys?" She asked with a small smile on her face.

Both Elizabeth and Hayley laughed. "I'll see what I can bring." Elizabeth said with a smile.

"What do you do for fun?" Hope asked Elizabeth curiosity written on her face.

Elizabeth smiled at her. "Well, lets see. When I was younger, I used to loved running through flower fields for fun. Now I read for fun when I can."

"Do you read stories?" Hope asked.

Elizabeth nodded. "Many stories. Some of them are stories that I lived through."

Hope's eyes widened and the ice cream that had been on her spoon fell on the table. All three of them had laughed at the mess that had been made. Hayley cleaned it up and kissed Hope's forehead.

"How old are you?" Hope asked. "Are you as old as my dad?"

Elizabeth smiled. "I am younger than your dad by about two hundred years."

"Do you still have family like I do?" Hope asked and Hayley looked at Elizabeth apologetic.

"I do." Elizabeth said with a small smile. "I have a best friend that is just as old as I am. And before I became a vampire, I had a family. They had their families for years and years after, and now I have a granddaughter that lives in New Orleans."

"Will I get to meet them?" Hope asked.

"Maybe one day." Elizabeth said smiling at her before looking over at Hayley who smiled back at her.

The rest of the time they were at the ice cream shop, the three of them were laughing and enjoying their time together. To Elizabeth it felt like a long time since she had been enjoying herself this much. It had been thanks to a little girl that was growing and bringing some brightness to the darkness that had surrounded the last year and a half. It also made Elizabeth feel better knowing she was spending some kind of time with a child. She never had gotten the chance to spend any kind of time with her daughter.

After over eight hundred years of always having some kind of regret of leaving her daughter in another village. She could have easily left the village altogether and lived a different life completely. But how much of it would have left her in the same situation or worse. But no matter how many times Elizabeth could think about how much things could have been different. She was glad that things had turned out as they had. If it had been any different, she probably wouldn't be here enjoying ice cream with Hayley and Hope, enjoying the time they had to feel human even if it was just for a few hours.

"You'd think she would be a wired mess right now." Hayley said as they walked into the house. Hope had fallen asleep on the car ride home. Elizabeth was carrying her into the house as Hope clung to her.

"She's not a normal human child, Hayley." She said with a small chuckle. She followed Hayley to Hope's room and placed Hope down on her bed. She moved over tot he side as Hayley covered her up and kissed her head.

"You knew she would be knocked out." Hayley said looking up at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth shrugged. "Sugar and then crash." She said walking out of the room. Hayley followed her out and into their living room.

"You really wanted more time didn't you?" Hayley asked.

Elizabeth shook her head. "No. I was ready the moment we left the ice cream shop." She sighed softly. "But I knew she would crash and there wouldn't be a chance for us to. She'd probably fall asleep a few minutes after we got there."

"I actually believe that with how sound asleep she is." Hayley said nodding.

"She's grown so much from that little baby that I used to see from time to time." Elizabeth said as she walked over to look at the photos on the wall.

"I wish she would stop." Hayley said sitting down on the couch. "She keeps growing and I feel before I know it, she'll be all grown up and not need me."

"She'll always need you." Elizabeth said looking over at her. "There are still times I wish my mother was here, just so I could talk to her."

"It must have been hard watching her be murdered." Hayley said shaking her head. "I couldn't imagine it."

"To think that night had started everything." Elizabeth said sighing before going to sit in the chair across from Hayley. "It will get better, Hayley. One day you'll be glad how you raised her and you'll be proud of what she'll do."

"I already am." Hayley said with a grin on her face. "I'm just hoping Klaus will get that chance."

"He will." Elizabeth nodded. "And when he does, I'm sure he wont want to separate with her at all."

"I'm sure he will." Hayley said laughing.

"Everything will work out in the end Hayley." Elizabeth said standing from her seat.

"I know." Hayley said nodding. "Get some sleep. You know she will be waking you in the morning."

"I'm actually looking forward to that." Elizabeth said with a grin on her face. "Good Night, Hayley."

As Elizabeth walked into the guest room, she pulled out her phone. Sitting down on the bed, she began scrolling through her contacts. As many times as she had scrolled through her contacts before, she never paused on a certain contact until now. She didn't know if what she was thinking was a good thing or not. As her finger lingered over the name for a few moments, she knew there was a possibility that there wouldn't be an answer. Taking a deep breath, she hit call anyways. She didn't care how late it was or where in the world this person was, this needed to be done. For as much as the importance of having family around, Elizabeth realized that she needed one other person around her to make things better.

After five rings, a sleepy voice answered the phone causing Elizabeth to sigh in relief.

Hello?

"Come home." Elizabeth said into the phone. There was silence for a moment afterwards.

Liz?

"Hey, Kai."

[stusbunker]

Known: Friends in a Fix

A Supernatural Dark Fan-fiction

Featuring: Dean Winchester x Demon!Reader, Dean x Female Vessel OC

Series Masterlist

A/N: With the dates I let you know where the action falls in regards to air dates, I try not to repeat information you already know. Please ask if something doesn’t make sense! xoxo Stu

Not really any warnings this chapter, there will still be show level violence, possession, mental health concerns, and a reminder that it is a Slow Burn. Each Chapter will have its own warnings, because I am generous like that. xoxo Stu

The dark figured loomed in the doorway, an insipid strobe light shone from another room, effectively blinding her as she tried to make out a face or species to her capture. Chloe was pinned down to a wide table, unable to move any of her extremities and the maddening realization that she was going to die like some bitch in a horror movie caused her to taunt the bastard.

“Oh goodie, you’re here—” her voice came out flat, as if she had an accent or something shoved in her mouth. When she looked down at her surroundings, everything shifted. Her hands paled and thinned as she tried to figure out what was happening. Then his voice sent a shiver down her spine, it was familiar yet ominous. Her head snapped up to face him when suddenly she woke up.

The raggedy blanket she kept along the passenger’s seat back wedged beneath her head as a makeshift pillow.

Earth Date: October 8, 2013

Location: A Rest Stop Somewhere between Madison and Milwaukee

She never had nightmares, for a hunter it was a rare quality, one that she had prided herself on. That was until she started to, when exhaustion nor booze could quell the festering dreams that haunted her even in daylight. CC started to question her fortitude, trying to relive the past few weeks and see what would have triggered such elaborate horrors. It was like she had ingested someone’ else’s trauma, the unfinished memories at odds with her own strengths and fears. She quickly grew dismayed over the new, if unfounded, weakness.

CC sat up, rubbing her face with flat swipes of her palms, chasing away the barely two hours of sleep she had managed before the last episode. She stared at the clock on the dash before grumbling to herself and starting the engine. She had turned off her phone the night before after a landline had refused to stop calling and to leave a message with more information than a selfish urgency. There were only a handful of people Chloe Collins would answer after that kind of dramatics, and two of them were dead. She thought about calling Garth, but let the idea float out of her focus as quickly as the wind picked up over the moraines.

It was another day before she remembered to turn her phone back on, having driven mindlessly until she stopped in front of an overgrown gas station and convenience store that looked like it had survived a tornado or some other natural disaster that would have shattered its windows. There was a residue to the place, as if a spirit had led her there to clean up its mess. If there was a spook behind the numbing atmosphere, it remained perpetually silent and out of sight.

“Hey, look, I know things are probably bad out there, but if there is any chance you are near Colorado, call me. Sam’s laid up and, I, I can’t do this myself, not right now. Consider this calling in all my favors. Thanks, Chloe.” Dean Winchester’s voice dropped on her name, it was a plea, not a sign off. He never used her real name. And he rarely asked for help. She turned West before scrolling for his number in her contacts list.

Nothing seemed real anymore.

Location: Nebraska

Despite the bright sunshine and crisp air, Castiel was growing bitter towards his surroundings. He heard Hael’s warnings in his memory as he walked down the quiet two-lane road. Hoping he could do what he had to, in order to stay as far away from every other angel as possible. He had changed clothes, spending his last coins on vending machine nutrients and a bottle of water. The truck driver had been polite enough, dropping him off at the next stop without any agreed upon repayment. And so, he started walking, again, painfully hungry and alone.

The passing vehicles rumbled passed Cas in a blur, his arm held out awkward and listless as he glanced half-heartedly at the few potential rides. Suddenly a rusted pick up screeched along, failing to come to a complete stop as it blew through the shoulder and into the grassy ditch. Castiel instinctively chased after the seemingly out of control vehicle, worry cresting his brow. When he reached the passenger side window, his stomach pitched against its emptiness.

Demon.

The woman appeared frozen, knuckles white against the worn steering wheel. She was shaking either from the impact of the accident or from fighting the entity that was trying to control her. Once he spoke, she spun to face him, her heart shaped face familiar over the parasite’s sinister features.

“I know you—”

“Castiel?” The woman’s voice croaked out of her clenched jaw. The flash of her grey eyes and the charm hanging from her rearview mirror brought pieces of old conversations and images back into focus. Dean mentioning a friend who had made repelling talismans by combining Native American chants with hoodoo ingredients. Her grandfather was a master of petroglyphs, spellwork and runes while her mother had visions from an early age.

“Chloe? Chloe Collins? Did Dean send you?” Castiel’s voice was urgent, but the worry clouded his now human features.

“I tried to stop, but my foot, it’s like it wouldn’t--- am I okay?” She begged for reassurance, not being able to move more than an inch in either direction. Castiel pained for this woman, unaware and at the mercy of her attacker.

“You’re going to be fine,” Castiel walked around the truck, never taking his eyes off of the hunter. When he reached the driver’s side door, the demon took hold. Her head tilted at an unnatural angle, eyes blackened as a horse-like huff flared her nostrils.

“Hello, thief. Long time.” The demon struggled back against her host, Chloe’s voice wavered as she pushed open the door, sending Cas flat on his ass. She leaped from the cab, nearly pouncing on him.

“What’s a-matter?” The demon continued to taunt him, “It seems if the jailbreaker has lost its wings?”

Castiel drew the Angel Blade from inside his stolen hoodie, the fear and humanity rolling towards the demon’s nostrils in intoxicating waves. The weapon got the demon’s attention, she snarled at him as worried voices came out of nowhere. Cas looked back to the road, a family had pulled over to check on the stalled vehicle. The mother’s voice beckoning to the father as he approached the struggling pair.

“Everybody okay over here?” The man’s large hands were gripped in front of his chest as if he was warming them before beginning a task.

Chloe’s eyes returned to normal as she leaned down to pull Castiel back onto his feet. He didn’t say anything but gave the demon/hunter a sidelong glance.

“Yeah, should be, I got caught rubbernecking this one, but he was kind of enough to see that me and my truck are square.” Chloe’s voice had returned, her thick hair drifting in the breeze as she shoved her hands in the front pockets of her jeans.

“You okay, man? You look like you saw a ghost!” The concerned motorist chortled as Castiel thought about what the man meant.

“No, there are no restless spirits here.” Castiel’s confusion broke the man’s revelry.

“Alright, could you do me a favor and wave to the Missus? She wouldn’t believe me unless everyone’s smiling.” As if on cue, Chloe and the bystander turned and waved back at his minivan, his wife beaming with relief as Castiel tried to patch on a smile. As soon as the family was back on the road with another round of enthusiastic waving from Chloe, Castiel redrew his blade.

She froze with the deadly point pressing gently above her kidney, “You kill me, you kill the girl, Castiel. You might be a half-dead has-been, but you wouldn’t do that to the Winchesters. Not when Dean sent her to collect you.”

“What are you doing with her?” Castiel was unmoved by her rationality.

“Nothing you need to worry about, besides,” the demon spun, hard, landing a firm elbow to his temple. “We are too exposed out here, for both our sakes.”

***

Castiel woke in her passenger seat a few hours later, the sun igniting the horizon behind them in a burst of pink and lavender. Chloe smiled at him as she briefly took her eyes off the road. He sat up, hand twitching over his missing weapon.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hunt you Castiel.” Her voice was soft and genuine, he realized he was talking to the woman and not the demon now. “But, if you don’t believe me, the Angel Blade is under your seat. I didn’t want to accidentally stab you while I dragged your unconscious ass into the cab.”

Cas didn’t bother verifying her explanation, he had grown too distracted by the giant-sized soft drink in the cupholder. “May I?” He asked with an audible swallow over his parched throat.

“Be my guest,” CC hummed a melody after her offer, one in stark contrast to the radio commercial jingle playing. Castiel removed the thin plastic lid and poured the bubbly, icy liquid down his throat. He paused when the frigid temperature burned his chest, just as an obnoxious belch escaped his lips.

“Excuse you,” CC chuckled, handing him a fistful of napkins from the glove compartment, he hadn’t realized he had spilled down his front.

“Why are you helping me?” Cas’s question caught her off guard.

“Obviously, so I can hold you hostage and take advantage of you,” CC didn’t miss a beat, winking at the perplexed grimace on the Angel-man’s face. “I’m a friend of the Winchesters? Dean was freaking out because Sam was laid up, so he asked if I was near Colorado?”

She continued to end each sentence as if it were a question, hoping the connections would be made in his brain. “When did you last talk to Dean?”

“I haven’t, just started driving West. Got pretty lucky to have spotted you, too. You look half-dead. Everything alright?” She was leading him, but he didn’t feel threatened with her concern.

Castiel sighed, “I’m not up to my full power, thank you for your help, Ms. Collins.”

“CC, Cas. It’s, just, CC.”

***

Castiel felt their presence before he heard his name over the radio waves, the Angels were closing in on him. Traveling with a demon, even a somewhat accommodating one, had been too risky after all. They had stopped for gas and a quick meal, but he knew better than to lead his fallen brethren back to CC and whoever was possessing her. Before CC returned from the women’s room, Cas ducked out of the small convenience store and made his way across the highway to a fast food restaurant.

He slowly made his way up the frontage road and stuck his thumb out for a ride in the opposite direction. Twenty minutes later, he was whisked away, hopefully drawing the Angels away from the confusing demon’s scent.

That night he called Dean from a borrowed cellphone at a group home.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas, what the hell?!” Dean barked over the line.

“I wanted to contact you because, well, I left CC at a truck stop in Nebraska.”

“Glad to know she got my message, why’d you split? Everything alright?”

“No, the Angels were trailing me, and I didn’t want to endanger her. Dean? How long has she—"

“Yeah, sorry about that, she can be a bit of a pistol sometimes,” Cas could hear the eye roll in Dean’s voice.

“That’s not what I mean, Dean. You do know that—”

“Oh, okay, right. Sorry, man, Sam was talking. Listen, you just get here asap. I’ll call Chloe before she burns half the corn fields looking for your ass.”

“Thanks, Dean.”

“You sure you don’t want us to pick you up?”

“No, Dean, I think I can manage another state or two.” It was Cas’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Well, okay. But, uh, be careful out there, man.” Castiel hung up as his cover name was called out from the reception desk, announcing his bed assignment.

***

Earth Date: October 13, 2013

Location: Las Vegas, Nevada

Chloe kicked herself for showing up to the care facility on a Sunday afternoon. The residents were exhausted from an outing the day before and the staff was not the most enthusiastic to last minute visitors. An extremely tall blonde female resident frowned at CC as she approached the corner where her mother sat gossiping. With the practiced patience and subtly of her trade, she slid into a seat beside her mother and listened to the perceived drama around her.

One of the night nurses was a kleptomaniac, Doris, her mother’s companion was certain. It was all very mundane with a nostalgic level of neighborhood paranoia, drawing an easy curl to her closed lips. CC sat for ten minutes before the women looked up and realized they had company, her hands folded over her elbows as if holding herself together.

“Hey, Mama,” she leaned forward and patted her mother’s knee. Her mother watched her skeptically, following her hand as it retracted back to her lap as if Chloe’s had personally offended her.

“What’s the matter with you?” Her mother’s tone was blunt, but to be expected. “Your energy is all foggy.”

“It’s nice to see you too,” CC grumbled, tucking her hair behind her ear, her piercings sparkling in the pre-sunset glow that shown through the long windows behind them.

“Please tell me you didn’t bring something with you? I don’t have the means to expel spirits in here.” Her mother huffed, searching the area around their small square of chairs as if a ghost would jump out at the suggestion and attack them all. CC sighed, somethings never changed, mood disorder medicated or not. Her mother had dark eyes and kept her hair in a thick, meticulous plait down her back. Other than that, the women were nearly identical, barely a laugh line or forehead crease deeper on her mother’s smooth features versus her own.

“I’m clean, Ma’am, I know what I’m doing,” CC whispered adamantly now. “Can we talk in private?”

Her mother eyed Doris knowingly, “Like you’re going to rat us out, I swear.”

“Fine.” Chloe leaned back, sighing as the older women shared a look.

“Constance, I’ll be back, I’m going to tell our eavesdropper to mind her own damn business.” Doris and Constance snapped their heads back to land disapproving eyes on the woman that had given CC a very similar look when she first arrived. Soon, Doris was out of earshot.

“Do you hear them?” CC asked, looking at her mother’s shoes.

“Of course, I hear them, girl. They won’t shut the hell up. It’s like they think they’re the only ones to experience a change of address.” Constance Collins groaned, rubbing her temples against the broadcast of celestial communication.

“Yeah, well, moving pains are the least of our worries. It’s like a temper tantrum met turf warfare.” CC explained what she had figured out about the dispelled angels’ situation.

“What are you going to do about it?” Constance watched her daughter, noting the shadows that drooped into her usually full cheeks.

“See how it pans out for now, I guess. Not really something a single hunter can do about all of Heaven.” CC shrugged.

“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.” Her mother recited verbatim.

“Thanks, Margaret, didn’t realize I had stepped in to a Soc class.” CC rolled her eyes.

“Don’t shoot the messenger, Chloe Cathleen. If you want to fix this mess; you can. Simple as that.”

“Thanks?”

“Anytime,” her mother smirked at her, until CC’s face pulled up and grinned back. “You in town?”

“Not really,” CC admitted, checking her phone for the time.

“Well, the night meds get distributed soon, better scoot before they added you to the queue, doll-baby.”

CC stood, rubbing her sweaty palms on the front of her fitted jeans. “Take care of yourself, Mama.”

Constance stood leaning up to place her cheek against her daughter’s, and with a short hum came a dark send off. “Don’t be too reckless out there. Come back to me.”

CC closed her eyes, “Of course, Mama.”

They broke apart and left with stuttering smiles on both of their lips.

Earth Date: October 17, 2013

Location: The Bunker

Dean woke to the frustrating buzzing of his phone against his nightstand, without a glance at the caller id he groaned a greeting.

“Go for Winchester.”

“Dean?” She sounded so small.

“Chloe, Christ, where have you been?! I’ve been calling for weeks.” Dean sat up, batting at the covers in order to free his bare legs, tossing them over the side.

“North Carolina, uh, just outside of Whittier.” She wasn’t sounding any better the longer she talked. “Uh, I don’t know how I got here, Dean. I remember looking into a case and then nothing.”

“Are you somewhere safe?” Dean rubbed his eyes, panic flooding his thoughts.

“I’m in a diner, but I don’t know where my truck is or—”

“Okay, well get a room, call me and I’ll give them my card. Got it?”

“Yeah, okay, right, first motel in the phonebook, right?”

“That’s my girl. Okay, sit tight. I’ll be there soon.” Dean waited for her sign off, throwing on pants with one hand to his ear.

“Okay, thanks, Dean.” Dean swallowed, exhaling tightly before ending the call. Everything from hex bags to Angel possession crossed his mind as he drove East in a fury. He could have called another hunter, he should have told Sam where he was going, but he didn’t. He just drove.

 My girl. Dean’s words flooded your thoughts as you sat hunched over your malt at the diner counter. Now the waiting began.

tags: @dontshootmespence @because-imma-lady-assface @mrswhozeewhatsis @smi727 @sassykayla255 @dxr-supernatural-fanfic @supernaturalboi @dumbthotticus @eve05glee @veroinnumera @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @forgettingthoughts @shokushuhime-stuff @fanfictionrecommendations-com @soullesscollection-world @igotdressedthroughthemess 

Next Chapter: A Line Once Crossed

[ficsforfangirls]

Favorite Fanfiction (That I’ve Written)

A Tomco where Star accidentally gives Marco hypothermia and calls upon Tom to keep him warm while she finds a cure.I’m going to link some of my favorite fanfiction - that I’ve written. I’ve decided to link my Top 10 Faves out of a total of 108 fanfiction stories between my Fanfiction.net and Archive of Our Own profiles. I do have some stories that are on both platforms, but there are plenty of stories that are exclusive to either website. Not all of my work on there is perfect, I’ve not always edited my work and I’ve been doing this for 12 years (though I think the oldest work I’ve left posted is from 2011). As I’ve gotten older, the work quality has improved, but that being said - this list is going to be the stories I’m most proud of and felt the happiest with when I was finished writing them.

So I’ll tag the story, include the fandom and the summary below the linked title. These are in no particular order. I will also have a small, bolded explanation why each story has made it onto this list. 1. A Hazard to Myself

(Harry Potter, Post-War)

This song!fic inspired by "Don't Let Me Get Me" by P!NK showcases Draco Malfoy reflecting with and talking to his psychiatrist - because he's not handling life after the war very well. TW: Mentions of alcohol abuse and self-harm, only in passing with absolutely no details of those acts.

This piece is one of those stories where the ending line was so powerful to me, and that song meant so much to me growing up, that I can’t ever read it without getting chills. Perhaps it could have been written better with fewer constraints, but the impact of it doesn’t change for me. This story always moves me every time I revisit it.

2. Dear Reader

(Harry Potter, Golden Era)

(5th Year - Assumed/Slight AU) Hermione decides the Hogwarts Library needs a piece of Muggle literature. Even though she doesn't expect anyone to find it, let alone respond to it, she is surprised when it is sent back to her within a couple of days – and with a letter, wouldn't you believe it? {rated based on future chapters}

This was the first wildly popular story I’d done in my fanfiction career. I even entered it into a contest to have it published after reworking it as an original piece. However, I was naive at the time and I didn’t edit it enough to get the votes. Still, it remains one of my favorites because I took something I loved from two different stories and made it my own so much so that it was wildly well received. I will always be proud of what I accomplished with this story.

3. Forever & Always, Clara

(Doctor Who, 12th Doctor)

This piece is a letter written to the Doctor as a means for Clara to say a proper and final farewell to the man who has so radically defined her life.

This was just a personal piece. I didn’t write it for any particular reason other than I was inspired to do so. I loved these characters together and by themselves separately. Losing them on the show was difficult and I wanted a more solid closure. I wrote this entirely for myself but I felt that, despite the distinct lack of popularity, it was still a good piece all together.

4. I Don’t F-cking Care

(Carry On)

This fanfiction depicts the struggles that Simon Snow and Baz Grimm-Pitch experience in their relationship that starts with them being enemies, how their timing is never quite right, and big life changes that force them to reassess what truly matters when it comes to their love for each other. ! Please review disclaimer thoroughly prior to reading this piece to avoid triggers !

Thanks to my good friend @ouranose - I got into the Carry On fandom. I had already read Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell, so it wouldn’t have been long before I got into it on my own, but she jumpstarted the process. It’s been a great time, of course, and one of my comfort fandoms now. What I really enjoyed about this one was that it was dark and imperfect and realistic and true to the blurry nature of their relationship. It’s one of the longest one-shot pieces I’ve ever written, and for that reason alone, on of those stories I’ll never forget. I put a lot of work into it and I think it shows.

5. Library Kisses

(Harry Potter, Golden Era)

This story details the romance of Hermione and Harry after a late night kiss through the Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione, Harry and Ron learn about each other and evolve as couples and friends along the way. Rated T, but may contain some M chapters.

Yikes? I shouldn’t start this by saying ‘yikes’ about the story. I wrote this many years ago, when I was very young (18 years old, just out of high school). I had a child in high school and drew heavily on the experience of being an intelligent woman who made a mistake and incorporated that into this story. It diverts from the canon quite a bit, but with this being the oldest story I’ve written available online, I think it shows that I’ve always had the skill and the drive to pursue writing as career opportunity. I love to do this, and despite my many pitfalls as an 18-year-old writer, this story has 73,368 views anyway. It is still, to this day, my third most popular story on Fanfiction.net and I’m okay with that because we should always be proud of where we started.

6. Little Talks

(Merlin, BBC)

This fic follows Merlin and Morgana from the first day they begin to fall in love until their first day together in the afterlife. Based off of the song by Of Monsters and Men. Rated T For - Brief death scene, suggestive adult themes.

Hands down, this has got to be favorite fanfiction piece that I’ve ever written. I was trying to do a lot with this story, and I think I was successful in most every front, though I wish I had edited it better at the time. It started out as a passion project and ended up being a comfort one. I hated the way Merlin ended and felt that I could write a better story - which wasn’t the first time I had ever felt that way, but the first time I ever executed those emotions to do something. It’s not my most popular piece, having written this towards the end of the Merlin fandom’s lifespan, but it doest rank among the top 10 pieces with the most traffic. I felt very connected to the song, the show, and the outline of this story. It’s also the first piece of fanfiction my husband ever read and felt was done better than the show (which is hard to do because he’s a canon-only-verse kind of guy). I’ll never not love this story.

7. Just One Yesterday

(Supernatural)

I've been hiding from him. I don't even think of him by name. I miss him but now that I'm a monster I don't think I can ever be close to him again. I am so afraid of the consequences of implicating him any further... But I just can't stop being there for him... I need him... {T for moderate violence; regular swearing; major character death}

This is yet another passion piece. I had outlined it during my lunch breaks at work, or when I was waiting for X, Y, or Z to finish loading on the computer. Am I proud to have done this is stolen moments? Not really. But the outcome is an emotional piece that I think really captured how I’ve always felt about the ship (Destiel). The stats for this piece are abysmal, but that means nothing to me because I felt awesome about the story I was telling.

8. In The Summer...

(Percy Jackson, Heroes of Olympus)

The seasons used to mean something very different to Nico, but those days are gone. And he wants Percy Jackson to know that he's moved on.

This is a poem that I wasn’t even meant to write. I had asked a friend to write it (That’s @ouranose again because she’s pretty much the only friend I’ve got). But in the end, she lost the lines she had crafted for it, I think, and it fell off the metaphorical production board. When we started this PJO/HOO series of poems, I took on the task instead because I loved the idea of it so much. I did much better than I expected, having never written anything substantial for PJO/HOO before, and for that reason I’ll always be proud of the way I show the changing of feelings towards someone that you used to love.

9. Make Memories

(Girl Meets World)

Excerpt/Summary: Shawn and Katy decide that Maya should make memories before her senior year of high school. They decide to send her to a camp out of state for six weeks so that she can experience life that is different from the city.

Lucas decides that it's time to do something for himself. After seeing an article about a six week camp out of state he decides to register and take a chance.

Unfortunately, Maya finds herself shacking up with an all-too familiar face after a transcription error by the receptionist of the camp.

“They thought your name was Luna?” Maya questions.

Goodness, where do I even start? After I had my son, I found a book a few years afterward and it was about a pregnant teenager who has to make the decision to have a baby or have an abortion. There’s so much more to the book and I loved reading it, but I drew from that story a bit to craft this Girl Meets World piece that allowed me to really be original more than most any other piece I’ve ever done. It is popular enough for a dead fandom, still getting more views and kudos every week at a slow rate. I was just proud that I could take elements from both of these shows that I loved and craft a romance that was focused on the emotional aspect of loving someone without making it too sexualized.

10. An Untitled Tomco

(Star vs. The Forces of Evil)

A Tomco where Star accidentally gives Marco hypothermia and calls upon Tom to keep him warm while she finds a cure.

I have never watched a single episode of Star vs. The Forces of Evil. Someone made a request for me to write it and I researched the characters and the ship. I wanted to craft this believable story seamlessly, as if I had seen it and knew all there was to know. And, by some miracle, it worked! This is one of the most popular stories on my Archive of Our Own despite not having been there nearly as long as the three others that surpass it’s viewership. I felt that I had done very good work and made the most of the research that I had done to craft this story. It’s one of those experiences that reminded me that I’m more than capable as a writer and that I can do anything when I’ve set myself to it.

[sirsparklepants]

Do you ever start talking characters with your friends and just get absolutely carried away? I talked myself into autistic Superman who stims by putting weird stuff in his mouth, @ivoryandwines said Bruce should give Clark an indestructible chew necklace because of all his neurodivergent kids, and they and @halftripletreblestitch told me I should write it while I had some time to kill today. And then, of course, it ballooned on me.

---

That time Clark ate a bullet was about protecting his secret identity, not about the way the crunch and slide of metal in his mouth made everything quiet for a few moments in his head, he swears. What else was he supposed to do, leave it for the police to recover or Lois to see? She was so observant - he was lucky she missed seeing the shot.

The time his father found him gnawing on the rim of an old tractor tire or his mother had to stop him from chewing her garden spade to bits? Not so much.

So, okay, maybe he resorted to eating things too much as a solution. But really, what was the harm? There wasn't much on earth that could hurt him, and inside him, things were safely contained. His mother had worried for a while that maybe he was missing something essential from his diet that he just couldn't get on earth, like the pregnant women who ate clay in South Africa. It wasn't like she could ask a pediatrician - it was a miracle he could eat earth food at all. When Clark was old enough, though, he tried to explain. It wasn't that he was hungry. It's that it felt good between his teeth and was satisfyingly loud when he felt like he could hear everything in the world. Since it didn't seem to do him any harm, she let it go, once he understood the difference between scrap metal and working farm tools.

As he got older, he chewed things less as he tried harder to pass for normal. He never quite got over wanting to, though. And at his parents’ home, he always got the fork with the weak, bent tines, so it didn't matter if he accidentally clamped down too hard on a bite. His parents politely ignored the metal creaking noise, even though he knew by now that most people found the sound unpleasant.

He didn't chew very much in the Superman suit - it didn't present a very heroic image. He must have done something that showed how much he wanted to, though. Bruce was observant, very good at research, and had a nearly supernatural ability to make connections between seemingly disparate pieces of information, but his parents would have never told Bruce this, and even Batman couldn't work with nothing.

Clark looked up from the piece of jewelry in his hand, confused. “What?” he asked. Was this Bruce's idea of a joke? It couldn't be what he had called Clark to the lab for.

“Bite it,” Bruce repeated, indicating the pendant shaped like Clark's family crest. “I put it through as much as I could in the Watchtower’s lab, of course, but it hasn't been properly field tested yet.”

Confused, Clark brought it to his mouth and bit down. He had no idea what purpose the necklace served - likely he wouldn't learn until it was relevant, that would be like Bruce - but he supposed it made sense to ask the indestructible member of the team with a noted tendency to chew on weird things to test it. He didn't know what Diana would have said to this kind of request.

To his surprise, the pendant yielded between his teeth without snapping or tearing. He bit a few more times, then had to make himself stop. It wasn't as loud as biting metal, but it was almost as satisfying, and held up better. He took it out of his mouth and stared at it, trying to focus enough to examine the molecular structure. “What did you make this out of?”

Bruce was staring at it too, not bothering to keep the look of satisfaction off of his face. “No marks,” he said. “Good.”

Clark brought his focus back out from the oddly folded sheets that made up the pendant material and realized that Bruce was right. His teeth hadn't left a single mark on the surface. He didn't miss the way Bruce had avoided his question, so he asked a different one. “It must have taken you weeks to come up with this material. What is it for?”

“You chew your lip when you're thinking, did you know that?” Bruce asked instead of answering him. “It's a good thing you can't break your own skin.”

Clark didn't know that, actually. “But I can't hurt myself,” he said. “So why this?”

Bruce was silent for a few moments, turning back to tinker with something that flashed and chirped while he thought. Just as Clark thought he'd refuse to answer the question altogether, a particularly infuriating habit, he looked back up. “Jason did the same thing, a few months after he came to live with me. Alfred caught him smoking one too many times, and eventually he wasn't able to hide his cigarettes any more. He used to chew on the ends of them, but after we got him to quit, he chewed his lip instead. Or his fingers.” He paused again for a while and looked down. “I suppose he smokes again now, but Alfred suggested a necklace for any time for when gum was too loud or inappropriate. Jewelry had worked well to help Dick sit still, after all.”

Unless Bruce was saying he saw Clark as one of his children, he still didn't see why Bruce had given it to him, and Bruce didn't seem inclined to elaborate. Sometimes his silences meant he was done with a topic, but sometimes, after a while, he'd keep talking if he thought his audience was receptive or if he realized something he thought was obvious needed to be spelled out. This time felt like the latter, so Clark closed his fist around the pendant and waited him out.

Eventually Bruce put down the flashing thing, which had actually stopped flashing as the chirping changed to chiming, and sighed. “Just because you don't bleed doesn't mean it's not bad for you. It was necessary.”

“You created an entirely new material for me,” Clark said. “That's well outside most people’s definition of necessary.”

“Most people don't have Bruce Wayne's resources. If it's beyond their means, it's not necessary for them.” Bruce's voice was as even as it always was, but his shoulders were slightly hunched.

Clark hmmed softly, but inside he felt as warm as solar noon over the ozone layer. Bruce getting so defensive it showed in his body language was a sure sign that feelings were involved. And since he brought up Dick and Jason, it was a good bet that those feelings were positive. Clark was fairly sure that, whatever Bruce said, this was an act of friendship. “So why did you shape it like that? Did you want Clark Kent to look like a Superman fan?”

Bruce didn't answer him, but there was a grin quirking the corner of his mouth.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: The Darkness Within (40/?)

Summary: When washed-up paranormal investigator Rum Gold meets Belle French, he does not quite know what to make of her claim of a supernatural presence in her life, but sensing her genuine fear, he begins to investigate. What he uncovers shakes the cynicism he has so long held to its very core, and he calls in the help of disgraced ex-priest Father Macavoy to help him lay some demons to rest…

A slow burn, eventual rumbellavoy. The rating may increase in later chapters.

Rated: M

[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [Eight] [Nine] [Ten] [Eleven] [Twelve] [Thirteen] [Fourteen] [Fifteen] [Sixteen] [Seventeen] [Eighteen] [Nineteen] [Twenty] [Twenty-One] [Twenty-Two] [Twenty-Three] [Twenty-Four] [Twenty-Five] [Twenty-Six] [Twenty-Seven] [Twenty-Eight] [Twenty-Nine] [Thirty] [Thirty-One] [Thirty-Two] [Thirty-Three] [Thirty-Four] [Thirty-Five] [Thirty-Six] [Thirty-Seven] [Thirty-Eight] [Thirty-Nine] [AO3]

====

Forty

“So, what happens now?”

It was very late, but despite the long day and the tiring drive, neither Joseph nor Gold felt any desire to go to bed. They had called Belle to let her know that they were back safely, so she could sleep if she wanted to, but they both knew that in her apartment above the library, she would be just as awake as they were.

They were back in the kitchen of Gold’s home, the two pieces of the sword laid out on the table in front of them. Now that they had the two pieces and could match their broken edges up to each other, it was clear that they were definitely part of the same larger, longer sword, and that once it was complete, the blade would be an impressive and hefty one.

“Now we have to go back to Scotland,” Joseph said. He gathered the pieces of the blade together and wrapped them up in the old table cloth that Gold had been using to keep them hidden. “We think that’s where the final part of the blade must be, and our deductions have all been correct so far.”

Gold nodded. “What happens after we find the final piece?”

“Then the sword must be re-forged,” Joseph said. “There aren’t all that many traditional blacksmiths around these days, but there are some if you know where to look.”

Gold didn’t doubt that Joseph knew where to look. The course of his work had taken him to dark places that required specialist tools, and he would know where to get them forged.

“Are we absolutely sure that the sword needs to be re-forged?” he asked. “Since the sword being broken was what caused this all in the first place and the sword being re-forged is what the entity is ultimately working towards so that it can be reunited with the bloodline? It feels like we’re playing into its hands somewhat here.”

Joseph nodded. “Yes, but it’s a necessary step that we have to take. The sword is what summoned the Dark One in the first place. It’s likely the only thing that will be able to banish it again. Most things of this type are cyclical in nature: summoning and banishing are the same at source, you have to recreate the circumstances. It’s all about portals,” he continued. “You open a portal and you can pull something through it or push it back out again.”

Gold shook his head. “You know, I really preferred our partnership when we were dealing with hacks and fakes rather than stuff that actually existed.” He sighed and drained his teacup. “So, do you think that if we re-forge the sword, you can banish this thing?”

Joseph didn’t respond for a long time.

“I don’t know,” he said eventually. “Before we do anything more I need to go back home and get my research and all my old books.”

“The ones that you accidentally forgot to return to the Vatican library after you left the priesthood?”

“Yes, those ones. They should be able to tell us more about what kind of entity we’re up against, now that we know much more what we’re dealing with. They should be able to tell me how to banish it. Although I don’t know if I’ll be able to banish it myself. I might have to take a step back and let you and Belle do that part. I’ll guide you as much as I can, but ultimately, this is your blood that we’re talking about.”

“Yes.” Gold was not exactly enamoured by that prospect. “That was what I was afraid of. Blood sacrifices are all very well, but they do seem a bit extreme.”

Joseph politely ignored that comment, and Gold knew that he was going to have to get used to the idea. If that was what it took to get the Dark One out of Belle and back from whence it came, then so be it. Blood could be replaced in the long run.

Just as long as it wasn’t too much blood.

“I think it would be best if I took the blade with me,” Joseph continued. “Its presence shouldn’t have any effect on me because I’m not the same blood type as you and Belle. Ella’s lived with a piece of it in her house for almost her entire life without ill effects, so I should be fine.”

Gold nodded his agreement. He really didn’t want to think about what might happen on a long-haul flight with him and Belle if the Dark One decided to put in another appearance.

“I’ll go on ahead and I’ll take the blade with me. I can go home and get the resources I need, and then I’ll head up to Scotland to get the final piece of the sword and get it re-forged. Once that happens, we’ll have to move quickly. Once the sword is complete, the entity will be able to move freely again, but it will likely have to be the presence of the sword to do so. Likewise, the entity and the sword will need to be in the same place if we stand any chance of banishing it.”

“So, it could go one of three ways. We succeed, we fail miserably when the thing transfers back into my bloodline, or we fail even more miserably when nothing happens.”

“That about sums it up, yes,” Joseph said.

“No pressure then.”

It was definitely a dire situation that they were heading towards, but there wasn’t a lot else that could be done. They had to get the entity out of Belle before something terrible happened. There was definitely a lot to be said for letting sleeping dogs lie, but now that they’d opened this can of worms, they couldn’t take it back, and they couldn’t leave Belle in her hopeless state.

“When will you leave?” Gold asked.

“Well, it’s probably best to get it all over with sooner rather than later,” Joseph said. “The longer that we hang around here with two pieces of the blade, the more active the entity is going to get and the less sleep you and Belle are going to have as a result. Not that your nightmares haven’t been incredibly useful in telling us facts about the entity and how it was summoned, but we can’t go on with it affecting your quality of life like this. I’ll go tomorrow; as soon as I can.” He paused. “I think I’ve encroached on you and Belle enough.”

The phrasing caught Gold as odd, and he found himself thinking back to the moment in the car on the way to Ella’s, and Joseph’s awkward confession to ending up rather intimately entwined with Belle during the night. Joseph wasn’t a priest anymore, and he’d never been immune to normal spectrum of human romantic attraction even when he had been bound by vows.

“I know that you and Belle have got close over the last few weeks,” Gold said, although he wasn’t quite sure in his head what he was leading up to with the conversation. The thoughts in his head weren’t yet put into words. “I know she talks to you about the things that she can’t or doesn’t want to talk to me about.”

Joseph nodded. “There’s nothing untoward going on, Gold, I can assure you.”

Gold shook his head. “No, that’s not what I’m worried about, I trust you both. Honestly, when we’re all three of us as entwined in this thing as we are, and you’re possibly going to perform an exorcism on her, you need that closeness.”

Joseph didn’t meet his eyes, just staring out of the kitchen window at the darkened garden.

“She’s a very lovely woman, and you’re very lucky to have her, no matter what might be going on with the Dark One inside her mind.”

With those few words, and the quiet acceptance in Joseph’s voice, Gold put two and two together and realised that his hunch was probably correct. Joseph was attracted to Belle, just as he himself had been when they had first met.

It was definitely something to think about. Gold had never been in this position before and he couldn’t think of anyone he knew who had. It wasn’t exactly the kind of thing that could be dropped into conversation and he wasn’t sure that there were any Internet self-help sites for people who realised that their friends were into their girlfriends and didn’t quite know what to do with the knowledge. He trusted Joseph and Belle both; he would not have said so if he didn’t and he probably wouldn’t be sitting here overthinking the entire situation if he had any doubts.

The problem was that he really didn’t know how Belle saw the entire situation. Probably because he had never asked her. He knew that she and Joseph were close, he knew that from their conversations and the ease with which she’d acted around him when they first met in person. Of all of them, she had been the most comfortable with the closeness that the three of them had shared that night in the inn in New York.

All the same, he didn’t know if that was just a close friendship based on the very deep and intimate feelings that she had shared with him when she unburdened herself on their long-distance calls, or whether those feelings went deeper, to a sense of mutual attraction.

In another world, where there was no entity, or at least a world where the entity had not come between him and Belle in such dramatic fashion as it had done that first night they’d made love, this wouldn’t even be a situation. Joseph would never have come into the equation at all, but now he had, and it was making things more complicated than ever.

Considering what had happened the last time Gold and Belle had been intimate, he couldn’t really say that he would blame her for keeping her distance from him and seeking solace from Joseph instead. Surprisingly, the thought didn’t cause him as much pain as he thought it might.

The only thing that he could really do now was wait. There was no use in trying to work out what on earth was going on or what on earth was going to happen next when this time next week, his and Belle’s very existence might be on the line. Belle had certainly been keeping her distance since that fateful night, and Gold thought that it would be best if they simply left the conversations until after the entity had been defeated.

Until then, there were far too many variables to try and consider, and far too many things clouding their judgement. If they managed to defeat the entity, then Belle would be free to make up her own mind concerning her feelings, without the fear of the entity getting in the way or somehow influencing things. The Dark One had said it had not had anything to do with Belle’s feelings and had not coerced her into her relationship with Gold in any way, but Gold wanted to be absolutely sure before he started planning any future in which the two of them were together. The choice about Belle’s future would be hers and hers alone.

All the same… The future was a tricky topic at the moment. As much as he wanted to believe that everything would be all right and they would manage to banish the Dark One, Gold couldn’t help the ominous feeling that his days were numbered.

“Joseph,” he began, aware that he was probably going about this the wrong way, but if Joseph was leaving the next day then they probably wouldn’t meet in person again until the sword had been re-forged, and by that point, everything would be going to hell in a fast car, by which time it would be too late and far too inappropriate.

“Yes?”

“If we do this, and if anything goes wrong…”

You have my permission to date Belle if this thing kills me? No, that was definitely the wrong way of wording it.

Joseph was looking at him with tired and rather sleep-deprived eyes, waiting for him to finish, but Gold had no idea how to end the sentence and he trailed off.

“Just make sure Belle’s ok, please. And make sure she knows that whatever happens, it wasn’t her fault.”

Joseph nodded his understanding.

“You have my word.”

He didn’t try to tell Gold that it was all going to be all right, there wasn’t anything to worry about, nothing was going to go wrong. It was the same frankness from him that Belle appreciated. Optimism had never been one of Joseph’s strong points, and he knew the odds at stake here just as well as the rest of them did. There was no way of sugar-coating what might happen, and what had a one-in-three chance of happening.

Joseph got up from the table. “I’d probably better get to bed if I’m going to be good for getting home tomorrow.” He paused. “I’d like to say goodbye to Belle before I leave, if that’s all right.”

Gold nodded. “Of course.”

It hadn’t been spoken out loud, but it was clear that Joseph knew that Gold now knew about his feelings towards Belle, and things were already starting to be slightly awkward. Even though he had resolved not to think about it until after it was all over, Gold thought that there couldn’t be any harm in getting Belle’s perspective on the situation right now. It might help him to make some sense of it all. The last thing that he wanted was to lose either his friendship with Joseph or his relationship with Belle as a result of this.

[ashleighxx]

25daysofKlaroline|Day12|College

SOO!!! This was written day for day16 in my planner and then Abby corrected me by saying it was day12...but it was going to be late either way so oops! And also thank you @3tinkgemini for helping me out, as always! You’re AMAZING!

PART ONE HERE!!! 

Part 2 (One gets drunk and confesses all over the phone, unaware that said person on the other end was actually outside, ready to confess their love.)

Caroline paced back and forth her dorm room, a bottle of champagne dangling in one hand, her mobile in the other.

Elena was over Damons and Bonnie hiding out in the witch's house looking for a way for her to be relieved of the pain that came with being the anchor to the other side. They were all glad she wasn’t dead anymore, but the thought of her friend in constant pain as she feels each supernatural death as they pass over was horrendous. She had asked Enzo to search for witches and see if they knew anything, while Bonnie dedicated her out of class hours to finding a cure for herself. Caroline usually spent her weekends with her, had taught herself ancient languages to help further her research, but the three girls had argued the night before.

Caroline suggested branching out and asking for some Original help, they were the most powerful and eldest to roam the world after all, and with a newly revived Kol, who knew immense knowledge of witches and Silas and Qetsiyah, she thought they may be able to help. That then resulted into the conversation that Caroline had still been in contact with Klaus after their tryst, when she told them it was a one time thing. Elena had totally freaked out about everything, made it all about her and how Caroline had supposedly betrayed their friendship and stormed out of the dorm room. Bonnie seemed more tuned to the idea of asking for help, but she failed to hide her disgust that Caroline saw Klaus different to they do.

Saw him as more.

It had been a month since she last saw the hybrid and asked him to stay. He explained about the witch situation he had to deal with and how they thought they were blackmailing him, when he was going to reverse the situation and get his brother back. They talked about keeping in contact and talking about themselves until he can come back. They agreed that she could go see New Orleans when she has a free weekend or sometime in the holidays if he couldn't leave the city.

They had been messaging each other and calling on some evenings, getting to know one another more. Silly questions about likes and dislikes turned into deep, embedded memories, fears and secrets surfaced between them and Caroline was pleasantly surprised by how much Klaus revealed about his past. She knew there were some memories of his long life he wished never to speak of, and she was fine with that, she understood, but she enjoyed his other detailed and graphic tales. He didn’t sugar coat anything for her, assuming what she can and can’t handle. And she loved it. She had also received a few pictures of New Orleans which fuelled her wanderlust and some of paintings of her, naked, in the throes of passion, which fuelled her lust and longing for the hybrid.

And that is why she was pacing back and forth, she missed him like she never had before. She felt it deep down inside that was tearing her apart. She couldn’t focus tidy in class, always wondered what Klaus was doing, what they would be doing if they were together instead of sitting in class, listening to the teacher drone on and on and on about nothing. She fantasized about them travelling, Paris, Rome, Tokyo and what kind of future they have together. So when she was saying goodbye to Klaus last night on the phone, she accidentally said she loved him. She quickly hung up before he said something, or didn’t say anything at all. She didn’t know which one scared her the most. So she had been screening his calls all days, ignoring the texts for her to ring him, to answer her phone and decided to get drunk instead, hoping it would give her the courage to call him.

Throwing herself on her back onto her bed dramatically, she finally clicked the name her thumb had been hovering over for the past half hour, listening as the dial tone only rang a few times before the call had been picked up. As if he had been clinging to his phone waiting for her.

“Before you say anything I need to get this off my chest.” She began.

“Sweethea-”

“No, no. Don't say anything.” She spoken sturnly, or she hoped it was. She couldn't tell with all the liquor in her body, but the damn had been opened and she was ready to confess. “I'm not sorry I said it. I'm not sorry because it's true, and I don't care if you don't feel the same way about me, I don't care that this is still new between us and I think I have felt this for a while now but I just haven't been that honest with myself.”

“Love-” He tried to interrupt her again.

“I'm not scared anymore. Of this, of my feelings for you. I was last night, because I obviously hung up. But I'm not anymore. But what I am sorry for is that I didn't get a chance to say it to you in person and it being over the phone. Its just I miss you so much and I do. Love you, that is.” She finally took a deep breathe from her rambling and tried to calm down her wild beating, heart.

Silence hung between them before Klaus broke it. “Have you finished now?” He sounded amused and was that nerves? She thought.

“Yeah.” she whispered. Her bravado disappearing, along with the effects of the alcohol she had consumed, the perks of vampirism.

“Good. Open your door.”

“Huh?”

“Open the door, love.”

She sat up off her bed and walked tentatively towards the door, finally sensing a presence behind it. Opening the door slowly she reveled Klaus on the other side, wearing his usual black combat boots, pants, jacket and his grey henley, phone still in hand by his ear. His blue eyes shone in happiness and his dimpled smile was on display. The hybrid mask he usual donned had all but disappeared and she was looking at the real Klaus she caught glimpses at when she played her little blonde distraction routine.

“Wha-” She tried to ask him why he was there, but the rest was muffled as he covered her mouth with his own, kissing her greedily, grabbing her waist, pulling her to him. He flashed them in side her dorm, closing the door and pressing her up against it, her leg instinctively wrapping around his waist as his hand glided over her ass and down her thigh, and back up underneath her dress.

Her hands that were clung around his neck, travelled down his torso over his henley, his muscles twitching underneath as she tore the fabric into pieces, needing to feel his skin on hers. Wanting more, she tore his belt in two and pulled open his jeans and grabbed his hard length, causing Klaus to growl into her mouth before he diverted his attention to her neck, kissing, nibbling, marking her with his human teeth.

Her head banged against the wooden door as he simultaneously bit her hard and inserted two fingers inside her heat, but not in the mood for foreplay, she reluctantly pulled his hand back, a brief look of confusion flitted across his features before she moved his cock to her entrance. Smirking, Klaus thrust into her deeply and set a fast, hard and unrelenting pace, the door creaking behind her under the strain of their tryst. She moved her arms around his back for more support as his fingers gripped into her waist and thighs. Reaching her climax, her nails dragged down his his bare back, triggering his own, both spent and panting.

“Hot vampire-hybrid sex indeed,” she mumbled, “not that I'm complaining. But what are you doing here?”

“You wouldn't answer your phone and I needed to see you. To see if you meant what you said.” He pulled out of her and settled her back on her feet, steading her.

“Of course I do, did you not here my rambl-” she tried to convey how much she loved him, how deep her feelings ran when her cut her off with a soft kiss.

He locked eyes with hers and his face softened. “I love you too, Caroline.”

[theragincajin]

End of all things {Part 1}

A/N: Hey guys! So I’m new to Tumblr but I’ve been writing fanfiction for a little over a year now. I’ve been wanting to try my hand at my own Supernatural Series so I hope you all enjoy ☺️

Parings: None yet

Warnings: Mentions of Blood, Swearing, Mentions of Death, Some gruesome talk.

Mentioned Characters: John Winchester, Mary Winchester, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, (My Oc) Riley Gordon.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the world of Supernatural and/or the characters from the show. I only own my Original characters and ideas. Thank you!

Summary:

(Alpha, Omega, And Beta humans in an apocalyptic world among the Supernatural)

During the Apocalypse of the world my character takes you on her journey as a struggling Alpha leader to a group of 100 men, women, and pups. This story will be filled with action, adventure, death, and love. I hope you enjoy!

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Life in general doesn’t really make sense to me..never has come to think of it. I mean if you really think about it, why are we all here? Some of us are lucky enough to make a difference in this piece of shit world while we’re still breathing but most of us just stay in the shadows, looking to our feet and staying to ourselves as the world goes to hell.

The world itself doesn’t even care about us, why else would Mother Nature be trying to kill us? Some don’t belong, others just take what’s not theirs. And the rest of us? We work all of our lives just to be thrown in the mud. At least that’s what’s happened to me.

Let’s start from the beginning shall we? It’ll be easier to explain that way...

🅼🅰🆁🅲🅷 1979

A simple couple from Oklahoma that had been married for three years now were about to be parents. Two Betas with nothing to their name but what they’d worked for, living in a small pack of about thirteen others. Think about that. Even with hand-me-down clothes and very little money they were still happy. Why? Because they were about to be parents, they would give life to a tiny soul making another mere light into the world of darkness surrounding them.

Their names were Katherine and Marcus Gordon and they were my parents.

After twenty two long hours of hard labor my mother held me in her arms with tears in her eyes and a smile on her face, giving me the name Riley Amphitrite Gordon. Yes my initials were RAG and that’s about all I’d be living in until I turned twenty five.

Now skip down the road a few years to a late October night when I was about four years old and that’s when my life went to shit. Our pack was heading South for the winter down to Lebanon, Kansas were another Alpha leader was offering to take us in for the six long months ahead. We were short on supplies and if we were going to survive the winter we’d definitely need to stay somewhere stocked up with food, medicine, and whatever else they could spare. I mean this was the freaking apocalypse for crying out loud, it’s either kill or be killed.

The group was just heading to bed, the Alphas were standing guard against the uncharted darkness of the Forrest ahead of us as we all curled in our tents when, out of no where, we were sent under attack. They all came out from every dark part of the Forrest, and were quicker than a cheetah as they announced their attack on our small group. Even as a small child I can still remember the smell of blood, the blood curdling screams of children my own age and mothers being torn to shreds. I remember seeing my mother being eaten alive by those Things...they weren’t human. I stayed hidden behind the thin material of our tent as I watched in horror as they attacked my father next, knocking him to the ground and tearing into his soft flesh with their sharp, crooked teeth. I somehow remained hidden until my uncle Roger found me, picking me up, along with what belongings we had and running away along with the others that got away from those beasts.

From there the seven out of the thirteen of our pack, including myself, traveled the rest of the way to Lebanon. When arriving upon the compound the group was welcomed with open arms by none other than John Winchester and his wife Mary Winchester.

And that’s where I grew up.

Among now a pack of fifty or more, families who just brought us in no problem.

As I got older I learned and prospered along with the rest of the kids from the pack, two of which were John and Mary’s sons. Dean and Sam Winchester. Dean was a year older than me and Sam was a year younger so I was in the middle, basically feeling like the middle sibling in their little family.

The Winchester’s basically raised me, giving me a special room to myself and treating me like a princess in their beautiful bunker in the compound. I didn’t feel left out and I felt loved, it’s definitely what my parents would’ve wanted for me. Along with going to school and getting straight A’s I was taught Leadership and combat by John and essential skills for a woman by Mary. I was also taught in the art of lying and sarcasm by Dean and Sam of course. We three were inseparable.

Growing up I was more into an adventure and hunting than getting trained to be a betrothed Omega. My classification was actually surprising to my uncle, seeing as my parents were Betas and as was he. My whole family were Betas. Even though my Class was put under Omega, John Winchester marked me as an Alpha along with Sam and Dean. And trust me, as we got older, a house full of Alpha’s was the last thing he wanted to deal with.

Around my eighteenth birthday I came into my first heat, being a late bloomer was not uncommon in an Omega coming from a family of Betas. I was locked in my room of the bunker for six days to groan and cry as I pleased while the pain of the cramps and the blossoming of my puberty came into adulthood. Mary was immune to my heat seeing as she was a female and she was mated but Sam and Dean were not so John took them up through the south side of the compound for a father and son camping trip.

I had successfully pulled through my heat before the boys returned but not before I became dangerous...before I accidentally killed someone.

According to Mary I blacked out and attacked her, going straight for the neighboring house farms and killing a few sheep afterwards. An older Alpha stumbled apon me and became startled but it was too late..I attacked him with brute force, killing him instantly under the assumption that he was a threat.

I don’t remember any of this.

When John and the boys returned they came home to the whole pack surrounding the bunker in attempts in getting me out into the street to kill me for my actions. I of course was locked away safely by Mary, who thank god, only had a few bumps and bruises. The people thought that I was what they call a Mange.

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*A Mange is a creature who was once a human. Could be Alpha, could be Omega. Either way it starts through heat or rut, there’s an infection that shoots through your system and makes you deathly ill. You start gaining side affects of the common cold then you black out and become a full on wolf as you sleep, some attack others while many try and control it like a bad dream. And if not treated by an antidote, which only the national guard obtains, You die, come back wolfed out fully and become this blood thirsty beast that kills everything in its path permanently.*

Mange ⬆️

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If that wasn’t enough to shock John, the fact that I attacked Mary did. The whole situation was all too much to handle but it had to be handled. If John didn’t do something about this the whole pack would turn on him...I knew what I had to do. I didn’t want to of course but they were my family and I had failed them.

It was time for me to go.

As I had made my decision to leave Dean had snuck into my room to check on me, he was always closer to me than Sam was when it came to our friendship. I considered Dean my best friend where as I considered Sammy my little brother.

He walked into my room, knocking lightly on the door as I packed up what little belongings I had into a duffel bag and tried to keep my tears at bay. He knew me too well to even ask if I was okay, it was indefinite that I wasn’t, he just simply walked over to me and gently stopped me from packing to hug me close. He rubbed my back as I cried into his shoulder before explaining that I had to leave. He didn’t like that idea one bit but I told him it was best if I go.

He wasn’t too happy with me but he’s a big boy, he’ll get over it.

I finished packing and went to tell John that I was leaving, I thanked him and Mary for raising me as their own before we sadly said our goodbyes and I made my way out the back entrance to the bunker where I wouldn’t be noticed. Dean followed me of course to tell me one final goodbye and to give me something to remember him by, the amulet Sam had given him for his eighteenth birthday. I refused to take it but he insisted that I do, saying that it was the only thing he had to give me that actually meant something to the both of us.

He told me he loved me and to try and not die out there. I told him to stop with the sappy shit and to watch out for himself and Sam. Then I left.

I sadly walked to the front of the compound and looked at the only place that I’ve ever known. Home. A few tears ran down my cheeks as I slowly opened the door to the compound and stepped out onto the rundown gravel hill which was surrounded by Forrest.

Leaving the compound wasn’t easy but I did it. I wasn’t alone though, Bobby Singer joined me along my journey of leaving to start fresh and basically along the way he became my right hand man. We made a good team, taking refuge in run down towns and killing as many evil sons a bitches that came along our path as any. I never forgot the Winchester’s, not one day. But I also never forgot what I was...

a monster.

🆂🅴🅿🆃🅴🅼🅱🅴🆁 2017

That brings me to the present. I am now 38 years old and still unmated.

But, I am also the first female Alpha/Omega to be running the biggest conventional compound pack there is. Next to the Brits of course.

My pack was founded upon Bobby and I five years ago. We stumbled upon a Ill pack of seven people who were huddled together in the remains of a supermarket, waiting for death to toll its way upon them. We took them in and took care of them from what supplies we had in Bobby’s Nova, giving them a second chance. They told us that their pack had a compound of its own before it became overrun by Manges.

That gave me an idea.

I had had it up to here with those bastards and I wasn’t about to just let this one go, I had to do something.

In the middle of the night I snuck over to the old compound, looking over it cautiously I discovered that this place was bigger than any compound I’ve ever been in. And the group was right, it was completely overrun by Manges.

I had enough, I was done. I couldn’t take living in fear over these beasts anymore. And just like that, something snapped. I blacked out and when I came to it was Morning and Bobby, along with the pack we found, were walking into the now cleared compound in shock.

I stood there before them, covered in blood and guts and surrounded by hundreds of Manges. All dead. I had wiped the entire compound clean, leaving us a place to call our own.

A home.

To this day I don’t even remember how it happened, I don’t even remember sneaking into the compound that night. All I know is, I finally cleared my title as a monster and became a hero.

Five years later and the compound is now booming with a whopping one hundred souls. Women, pups, and Men all living protected under my protection. The Seven we found became my council, we make decisions and we decide what’s best for our pack. My pack.

Castiel, Kelly, Bobby, Charlie, Chuck, Benny, Ellen, Rufus, and I make up the board but to be fare everyone answers to me. And that’s how my life became meaningful.

—————————————————————

Present Day~

I awoke to my alarm beeping in my ear, making me jump and pound the snooze button down hard into the stupid box.

God, I hate Monday’s.

It’s honestly the worst day in history, especially since it ends my weekend full of no responsibilities and sleeping in. I groaned as I turned over on my back and stared up at the ceiling, sighing to myself as the sun hadn’t even come up into the sky yet. I rubbed my tired eyes and yawned loudly as I sat up in bed and took in the surroundings of my cabin, trying to wake myself up enough to get up and start the day. Grabbing my robe, I slip it on and shuffle into my kitchen to grab a cup of hot coffee to wake up every part of me for my long and tiring day.

And just like that, my schedule begins.

•Wake up at 4am

•get a cup of coffee in my system

•Shower, change, and grab breakfast and more coffee

•Make my morning walkthrough down to the tabernacle for morning orientation

•report to Chuck and grab notes of what’s new and what needs to be brought to attention to the pack, then start orientation after everyone has arrived

•dismiss then go into my office for a meeting with the board

•after meeting go to mess hall to eat lunch

•after lunch retreat down to the campgrounds to check up with my Head of command, Benny about how the troops are coming along

•then start my walkthroughs, checking over the security systems, the fences, etc.

•go back to my office to discuss supplies and what not with Chuck

•lead, along side Benny and the troops, a supply run and trade with the Brits

•come back and eat dinner

•return to the tabernacle to have nightly orientation

•retire back to my cabin around midnight to sleep

•Repeat.

And that’s how my week goes. After five years of this shit I’ve grown quite grumpy, can you blame me? I mean it’s bad enough I’m not getting laid but having to take the place of a job that’s meant for an alpha male? It makes me a little rough around the edges. Especially since I deal with my heat by myself with no help from an alpha.

The week had gone on and now it was Wednesday morning, 5:30am. I was just grabbing the notes from Chuck as people started to flood into the tabernacle for morning orientation. I yawned as I waited behind the podium for every seat to be filled, letting people have their time to get going and hopefully all show up. After receiving the go ahead from Benny that everyone had arrived I started our meeting.

“Good morning all.” I said, my voice gruff and filled with tiredness. “To start off this morning I do want to welcome the newest member of the pack with a warm howl so if you all will, please welcome along with me Jack Elliot Novak to the proud parents Castiel and Kelly Novak.” The whole room erupted into howling as we all clapped and I smiled at the newly proud parents. Castiel nodded and smiled to me as Kelly did the same then everyone sat down. “Now, back to the meeting. I do want to bring to your attention that it is the beginning of fall and that means mating Season is in bloom. Now, I do know we have a few Alphas and Omegas coming into mating and I do want to remind our young ones to meet with Charlie after the meeting to arrange a cabin down at the Peak for the yearly mating Season. I’ve had too many complaints about moaning and groaning coming from the neighborhood guys so please keep that shit down at the cabins.” I smiled a bit as the room erupted in soft laughter coming from the elders of the pack. “Another situation I need to bring to your attention. My Chief in command found two young Alphas poking around in the south side of the forest. I must remind you to stay off that part of the compound and if I catch anyone else up there without authorization I will terminate you. That place is strictly forbidden for your safety and I advise you all take note of that.”

I soon finished up with orientation and was wrapping up so I could go to the Council meeting when Chuck unexpectedly came running up to me, clip board in hand. “Chief! Chief! We have a situation down at Eastgate. We need you down there right now!” He said panickedly. I nodded and bolted straight down to Eastgate, the main gate to the compound. Benny and the troops were already down there as I pushed my way through the crowd to see what in the hell was going on. I walked up in Benny with my game face on. “Report.” I demanded. “The troops were out scavenging for supplies as usual and found two unsuspecting victims held up in an attic down in the main part of town. After clearing the area the two asked to see you.” Benny informed me, his Cajun accent seeming calming to me in this time of chaos. I nodded and walked over to the two victims who had been tied up with bags over their heads. My combat boots crunched the gravel underneath as I paced back and forth in front of the two. I breathed in and immediately was hit with an overpowering scent.

Alphas.

I reach out and grabbed the bags from the tops of their heads, yanking them off swiftly to revel my childhood friends.

My eyes grew wide as I stared at the only two boys that had ever treated me like family, my home.

“S-Sammy? Dean?”

To be continued...

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[av3da]

second of the day - it’s 3 in the morning so i’m gonna go to sleep after this! i’m personally not a fan of this writing, however. it’s late and i couldn't get in touch with my inner isaac, i definitively started to rush because i felt it was dragging and i was getting too distracted so it kinda sucks but i hope it’s at least funny! ps send me your requests.

1128 words

lost on you - lewis capaldi

“Shh!” I sharply spoke as I tugged Isaac into my closet when I heard my brother coming upstairs abruptly, quieting the male that was acting a bit too talkative for our sudden given circumstances. I couldn’t see much but I knew that his facial reaction was taken back by my sudden actions.

We stood in my closet, slightly crammed up against each other, my hand over his mouth to ensure he wouldn’t say anything. When the room on the other side of the doors was silent and a door closed downstairs, I slid the closet doors open and sighed.

My oldest and only brother just came home and was pending to see if I was home as well, which was a daily routine for him. It was adorable but not today, as I snuck a boy into our house. And that boy wasn’t the best of friends with him. And doesn’t have the best reputation. And is also a werewolf. We’ve been hiding this relationship for at least six months now, I knew Isaac before he was bit. I knew him when he still lived with his father whom abused him day after day. I was there to pick up the pieces when no one else was willing to even give him a chance. He has always been there but no one ever noticed him until he had that ‘bite of confidence’. No pun intended.

“Don’t start talking, I think he’s still in the house.” I told my boyfriend whose height towered above mine, triggering me to have to look up at him.

“Why can’t we just tell him? Scott is a great guy and he just wants you to be happy… which you are.” Isaac told me softly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. He could smell my anxiety, I probably reeked of it by now.

“Babe, I adore you – I really do, but I don’t really think he considers you a good fit for me.” He just nodded his head in response while I squeezed his hand gently.

“None taken.” He shrugged his shoulders and snickered lightly before grabbing me by the waist and plopping us down onto my bed to go back to cuddling.

My phone began to ring as a call from my best friend came in, and I was quick to answer before Isaac did as that was something that he did accidentally on numerous occasions. “Hello?” I articulated into the telephone, placing a fingertip against my opposing ear to augment my hearing. Listening to her every word, I hummed in agreement before bidding a goodbye and hanging up from the call.

“Pack meeting, we got to go.” I intoned to my beau, hopping up from my spot on the bed to toss on a sweatshirt, “This is going to sound really irrational but since you have that werewolf healing thing, you should jump out the window. Scott is still home and I can ride with him, it would look fishy to show up with you… on a bike nonetheless.”

He shot me a furrowed look even though he knew I was right, along with the fact that he never sought of pack meetings as vital as they were. I positioned a soft kiss on his lips before unlocking my window and looking away as he jumped out, quickly recuperating from the stumble and darting to his bike.

I had to sojourn and giggle at the sight of him glancing at my window before sliding his helmet on, and blowing me a kiss. He parked by the woods so that his bike wasn’t in my driveway when Scott got home. I counted thirty seconds in my head before grabbing my phone and trotting out of my room to peek my head into Scott’s, “Hey, pack meeting at Lydia’s house.”

He glanced up from his phone and nodded his head. looking around for his keys, “I thought you weren’t here?”

My back was turned to him as my eyes widened, calming myself down so my uneasiness wasn’t exhibiting, “I’ve been home so I don’t know, I was cleaning my closet so my door was probably covering my body.” I told him as we made our way downstairs to leave the house, to which he just nodded his head and agreed with me.

The car ride there wasn’t so silent as Scott played his usual pop punk music, him singing along and me posting his goofy self on my Snapchat story, which I know he lived for. The ride passed quickly and I found myself sitting in Lydia living room faster than I had presumed.

“Hey… are you okay?” A voice shook me from my day dream, initiating me to look around in confusion before remembering where I was and what I was doing.

My brain racked in thought after thought as I vexed to catch up with everything in front me, revolving to Lydia to riposte her, “Yeah, sorry, it’s just stress.”

Keeping my relationship a secret was harder than I thought it would be. I wasn’t extremely close with my brother but ever since he became a part of the whole supernatural world, he always knew what was going on with everyone when the only person he should be concerned with was himself. Not to mention, not only were we forced to keep it a secret from him but from everyone else too so the information could never unintentionally blunder from someone else’s mouth to Scott’s earshot.

Isaac convened across the room, eyes dancing from his phone screen to me, and in that instant, I could effortlessly read he was anxious about something. He then glanced to his lap and then back at me confidently, getting up and calling out Scott’s name.

Oh no.

Cursing under my breath, I rose to my feet, ensuing my significant other. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to get his attention with him being in the moment like so, I stood out of sight from both but still close enough to hear what was happening before me.

After almost being caught, Isaac think it’s a good idea to out us now instead a few days from now. You’ve got to kidding me.

Those dreaded words escaped his mouth “I’m dating your sister.” Followed by silence from not only the two boys but a few of the pack members that were paying attention. And considering most of them have amazing supernatural hearing, it was all of them but Stiles who was too caught up in the shininess of Lydia’s curls.

A few seconds later, I heard Isaac’s voice shout through the house, making the palm of my hand strike my forehead, “Scott, put down the knife, you’re not Allison. We can talk this through!”

[thetakenpokemon]

First Memory of Asmund

Surprised...oh reader mine?

Did you not expect to see this so soon?

I promised you a gift after all.

...

Asmund...

His words are true, oh reader mine. There is more to his words when he commands you to not call him a...’Pokemon’.

There is a reason...for he truly is no Pokemon.

You may have already come to the conclusion already, for the pieces are all there.

Or perhaps...you didn’t, but it matters little to me.

Before I show you the changing event, I shall reveal this to you. You may likely not be surprised of what this information is, or perhaps you will be...

Asmund...he is no Pokemon.

No...

He is a construct, a golem, not even like the ones you refer to as ‘Golurks’.

Yet...not completely a construct, for his body is powered by his soul..

His soul...is not that of a Pokemon...

...

...It is that of a Human.

Now watch...oh reader mine...

Through the veil I’ve retrieved his memories to my clutches.

So watch...witness...learn...

[À͟ ̸̕͞͠M̛̀͡E̸͝Ḿ̵̸͠O͏̸̶̕͞R̸̸͘̕Y̴̶̕ ̡̢T̵̨̢̕Ḩ̶̷R̢͡O̧͜͝Ú̧͜G̶̴̢̛͢H̛͟͟͡ ̢͢T̴̨͞H̸̶E��̸̡̡ ̸̸́͢͏V͏̢̀E̴͝͞Ì̶̡̧̡Ļ̶́͟͞]

[Location: ?̸̡͜?̸͘͢?͠҉?͡?̸͠͠?҉҉̛̀?̴̶̡́?̸̨̨͟?̵́͡] [PoV: Asmund]

I pull my coat tighter around me as the cold winter wind blows against my face like icy needles.

I greatly dislike being out during this time of year, but I’ve got little choice...since I need to get to the next town.

With great unease I carefully eye my surroundings as I continue down the trail, my hand resting firmly on the grip of my revolver that’s sitting snugly in its holster.

That gun...I trust it with my life, since it has saved me numerous times when times got very tough for me. And right now? I feel that I need it more than ever.

In order to get to the next town, I’m forced to take a trail that crosses over the border that separates our land with that of the Pokemon’s.

We both...tend to keep to ourselves, not interfering with each other’s affairs. The main reason is because that both Humans and Pokemon here don’t really trust each other, so we have an unspoken rule to not get into each other’s business.

Although we have plenty of Ferals in our side, we don’t have any of the thinking kind. But in the end that tends to suit us just fine, since otherwise there’d be...’complications’.

Due to this unspoken rule, many times both sides tend to react rather negatively when we find each other past the border. In my case? If a Non-Feral Pokemon spots me down in their land, they’d either tell me to fuck off...or just try to kill me on sight.

Not that I blame them being rather ticked off, since I am in fact intruding right now. However I would much prefer that they wouldn’t try to kill me anyways.

But what choice do I have? In order to get to the next town, I’m forced to take the path that crosses the border. Since the other option is to trudge through a large swamp, but since it’s filled with plenty of dangerous Ferals and it’s currently the dead middle of winter...going through there is a death wish.

So I’m forced to take the lesser of the two evils, which is cross through the border. 

Which still is rather dangerous due to the unpredictability of who I might run into, thus why my gun makes me feel a bit safer.

...

Now just to clarify things, I myself don’t have too much issues with Pokemon of the Non-Feral variety. If I find one who accidentally crossed the border, I just just ask them why they’re this far in and then point them towards the right direction in a non-hostile manner. There’s no reason why one should act aggressive towards Pokemon, since they can actually kill you with a vast assortment of supernatural powers.

It’s just fucking stupid, even if you have a gun in hand.

Feeling another gust blow at me, I feel myself shiver as I try to push through the cold. Although snow has yet to fall, I can tell that it’ll be soon seeing the overcast clouds above me.

Just when I thought things were getting a little too quiet...I hear a rustling.

I quickly turn to face the noise, which is a small bush. However its lacking of leaves allows me to see that nothing is hiding behind it, so that crosses that out.

As I look around, I recall that the wind has been blowing pretty hard...so perhaps it was just the wind. I’m feeling very jumpy after all, so I’m probably just making a big deal out of something that’s not there.

With a quiet sigh I calm my nerves and continue on, not wanting to stay in one place for long.

...

Now call me paranoid, but I have every right to be.

In a place where Pokemon might not take you kindly? You gotta be ready for anything. Because I doubt they’ll react too well to my presence, since from stories I’ve heard...there are plenty of Pokemon in this land that go to the extremes when finding Humans.

“Now ain’t this a surprise?” A hissing voice suddenly speaks from behind, making my blood freeze. For the second time I turn my body to face the source of the noice, only to find...nothing.

“The hell?” I whisper, taking no risks I draw my gun. With my eyes narrowing I grit my teeth together. “Who’s there?!” I shout. “Show yourself!”

Course I doubt if they’ll actually show themselves, but...it’s always worth a try.

And much to my surprise, it did work. I see the air in front of me shimmer before a Pokemon fades into view, revealing to be a sort of...Kecleon. The big thing though that’s different about him is that he’s a little bigger, that...and he’s missing the stripe on his stomach.

“Funny to find a Human here.” He chuckles, eyeing me with his reptilian eyes. “Do you not realize that you’re not...welcome?”

I keep my gun out, but don’t aim it at the Pokemon...since I don’t want to start anything. “I’m just passing through.” I respond carefully. “I was left no choice but to cross, since I can’t go through the swamps.”

“Is that so?” He grins, his expression seeming...off.

The more I’m looking at this guy, the more uneasy I'm feeling.

“Yeah.” I respond stiffly. “Just passing through, so if you don’t mind...I’m gonna continue on and get out of your way.”

I take a step back, not even daring to turn away from him. But the Kecleon...he takes a step forward to keep the same distance. “Leave?” He says, his expression turning to a sick smirk. “Kinda funny, since I was planning to cross the border to snag us a Human. But seeing that I found you here...it makes it all the more easy for me.” His reptilian tongue flicks out. “So you won’t be leaving...”

My eyes widen at this and immediately I aim my gun at the lizard, but just before I pull the trigger I see my trusty weapon become enveloped in an unnatural light and then get yanked into the air.

“I don’t think so.” A new voice laughs, this one sounding more feminine. The air shimmers before fading, revealing a female Zoroark and a male Hypno.

The Hypno levitates the weapon over to himself, a sick smirk fixated on his lips. “Guns...” He muses, his eyes flicking between the weapon and me. “Such a...vile weapon, which is expected from your kind.” With a flash from his eyes the weapon crumbles before my eyes. “...Vile indeed...”

I feel my fists clench tightly when I see my most treasured weapon destroyed in a single moment. “Vile?” I spit, the newfound anger I’m experiencing quickly overpowering my fear. “You call those things vile? The only thing that allows us to stand a chance against you guys?”

The Zoroark snorts. “It is.” She frowns. “A weapon that kills another without giving them any chance to react, it is a very terrible thing.”

Is that fucking so? Perhaps the reason why you dislike it is because whoever that wields one of those things isn’t an easy target.

I open my mouth to retort, but the Hypno cuts me off. “Enough of this.! He grumbles, raising his pendulum. “We’re getting sidetracked.”

My eyes widen upon noticing him raising the thing, I quickly try to close them...but I see the flash before I could do so.

Immediately I feel my legs give out as my consciousness begins to fade, causing me to painfully fall to the ground.

Hearing a loud crunch and a sharp sting on my face, I can only assume that I broke my nose when I landed on my face.

Just before my mind drifts to a thoughtless haze...I hear one thing.

“Grab the Human.” The Hypno orders the others. “We got what they wanted, so lets head back to the ruins.”