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biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer · 2 months ago

Note

Somnophilia smut with Sol? Reader doesn't wake up (Tʖ̯T)

No Rest for the Wicked (Sol x MC/Reader - Somnophilia Smut)

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, PRESENTING TO THE STAGE, YOUR FAVOURITE TKATB WRITER !!!

SKY FORTRESSES AND BURNING CITADELS, WITH A LONGTIME-AWAITED, PROMISED SOLIVAN BRUGMANSIA S.M.U.T.!

*bows*

Anyway, just a reminder this is rape, non-consented, probably slightly OOC, and I'm a (slightly more than) tad rusty in writing. I've also never written smut before, so do give feedback if you deem it necessary. Toodles, my sexy motherfuckers.

You could even say I came back with a bang. ;)

P.S. Also the M/C is written as a virgin in this, if your character isn't then congratulations! They hid their previous sexual escapades impeccably well, for Sol to not know.

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Wicked: evil or morally wrong.

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The room was pitch black, so heavily ensnared in the gaping shade of the darkened night that even shadows disappeared under its tarlike veil. Any ordinary, random burglar would be blindly stumbling about like an idiot, if they happened upon your apartment with…impure intentions.

Sol wasn’t a burglar, and he was definitely not ordinary. He wasn’t a mindless passerby on the streets, with a forgettable face and unassuming nature. Sure, he acted the part well, played the weak-minded shy kid well. But that act, that mask? It’s for the faces that litter his vision, that plague his sight and try to distract him from his goal, his mission, his messiah.

Faces that exist as a way to try and deter him from his forever, from his life and his bride, from his venerant Annabel Lee.

You.

He’s saving his true, adaptable, self for you. He’s willing to morph into anyone for you, alter himself, hurt himself if you so merely asked!

You could ask him to kill for you and he wouldn’t even blink until said soul was eviscerated; and their body exsanguinated and dumped in an outskirt lake.

He was the only one for you, your only soulmate, your only lover, your only.

So why did you always neglect him? Ignore him; spend time with him as a last resort, all in favour of that insignificant bastard-born slug?!

What did he have that Sol didn’t? Hmm?

The queries began to flood his mind, onslaught his body. He barked out a laugh, a cold, brisk sound that reverberated across the walls, before cruelly biting the skin of his knuckles.

Hush, can’t have you wake up now darling, not when you’re so serene and at ease.

He didn’t want to do anything bad to you, of course not, he loves you…! But even the best of lovers need to be taught a lesson…or seven.

Boots softly thud against your floor, their path marked by years of memory and intuition, and like normal, he makes his way to your bedside.

Sol might not be able to see you, but he doesn’t need to. He already knows how you sleep, he remembers the precise dosage of medication he needs to do this…he’s all set…

Yet the longer he stands there, the more time ticks by him, gently ageing you both second by second closer to a fated death, he was struck by an epiphany:

Why the fuck should he settle for this? He’s been in the darkness long enough.

The kid at the back.

The afterthought.

The forgotten face of the world.

If Jericho Ichabod gets to see you…then so shall fucking he.

In a bout of ornery, he ditched his boots and marched into the lightless expanse of your lounge. He knew you had a torch hidden somewhere, might as well finally make use of it.

Like he will of you.

Most people would’ve already ditched or aimlessly clambered around; but Sol wasn’t most people. He knew your residence inside out, all of them.Each place, grandiose or minimalistic, apartment or house. No matter where you go, he’s always watching, tonight’s just a little more…intimate, a touch closer than his usual escapades.

His hand softly searched the drawers, each soft click sent a thrilling chill down his spine, his body shuddered as he tactfully manoeuvred his way about the room. His fingers casually map each surface, fondling for anything remotely cylindrical…until, after what felt like millenia, he finds it. How lucky.

A lava lamp. Bright enough to see you, dim enough to not awaken you; and look at that…it’s red, like his eyes, like his lips…like his cock.

Were you thinking of me, beloved?

With methodical steps, silent as the grave, he strode back to you, placed the lamp in the closet door…and by God’s holy grail was he once more rendered stunned.

The soft crimson rays paint your frame in a way he prayed to one day replicate, with his own blood, perhaps? Paint wouldn’t be enough to perfectly capture your divine essence.

Your lips look so fucking good.

He wanted to have you so damn badly it hurt.

And he would’ve…until something crossed his peripherals.

A small photo, about the size of his palm, lay tucked away on your bedside drawer.

To say Sol was intrigued by this was an understatement, and his bubbling wonder continued to froth as he took in the details of this quaint square and halted.

All intrigue turned to rage, white and hot like his flesh and it pelted his mind like hail on an abandoned car; before an idea, comical as it was repulsive, crept into the depraved depths of his mind.

What better way to avenge himself than make the whore see? See how much better he is, both in appearance and in bed?

A lifeless grin moulded into his face, Sol positioned the photo to ensure it stared right at him; The slug isn’t worthy of seeing the pretty things you’ll do; he thought.

He bored his eyes into ones of disgusting cobalt, before turning down to the grandest feast of his life.

Slender fingers, corpse-like in colour, caressed your face, measuring once more the map that is your body, his eyes hungrily raking over your sleeping form.

Against his better judgement, he lowers his head and drags his tongue, languid and unhurried, across your neck, his teeth softly rubbing across your zen pulse.

He swiftly rose up, his face burning and his breaths stuttering; all the while his cock — like the night before, and the one before that — began to fucking ache, straining horribly against his pants, almost begging to be allowed freedom from its constant confines.

The urge to tear off your clothes and piston himself so deep inside you that your body would refuse any other dick was so tempting. The mere thought made a small wet spot appear, yet Sol would take his time, after all, this was merely you making up for teasing him, right?

Fuck it.

In one swift motion, he’s at your side, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as his hand casually dived under your shirt, worming its way towards the mounds that lay atop your angelic heart; but you couldn’t possibly blame him, they’re so malleable and beautiful; just like you!

He inhaled sharply, before closing his eyes and stifling a pathetic whimper.

You smell so fucking good.

His whole body was like a bomb, ticking away until either his time runs out and he leaves to care for himself elsewhere, or until he allows himself to… indulge.

If Ichabod got to revel in your presence, then so shall he.

“Mhh??”

Shit.

He froze, his body arched over you, his hoodie half off, exposing his burnt abdomen, carmine circles and purple dots peppering him like seasoning.

Ahh…you told me I was beautiful in your eyes once…but I won’t risk you rejecting me from these, darling.

Another reason why he loved you oh-so much. You’re so pristine, so pure, so perfect that it stung. He didn’t deserve you, he wasn’t remotely close to reaching the bar of whom someone like you should have; but he didn’t care anymore. You were here, beneath him.

And he was going to have you if it’s the last thing he ever does.

Soon enough, his mouth returned to your pulse, suckling on the throbbing flesh and his teeth cautiously caging the arteries, until a mark — angry red like the burns that paint his skin — started to blossom.

His hand inched up your breast, the pads of his chilled fingers encircled your areolas, the nips hardened and prodded at him, begging to be pleasurably satiated — and satiate he inevitably would.

He swiftly moved to straddling you, this time in entirety, careful to avoid putting too much pressure on your torso. When you’re lying so prettily before him it was almost too easy to forget how much bigger than you he was, how small and dainty and delicate you were compared to him.

Using his other hand to lift your nightshirt to your collarbones, Sol redirected himself fully to your breasts, his teeth grazing over the buds before rapidly digging them into the warm fat, his nails clawing at your sides like they were pencils upon a blank canvas and the artist had the eureka of a lifetime.

His face felt torrid, his whole body felt like it’d been set ablaze and he’d barely started.

Look at what you’ve turned me into, but I’m not complaining, how can I?

Sol suddenly wished he was a snake, so he could coil around your body forever, his fangs lodged in either your neck or tits, while his tip would remain buried so deeply within you that you’d forget what it meant to move normally.

But hey, he could still do one of those things. The drugs are significantly stronger this time.

As if to test the waters, he delicately shifted your blouse off of you, tossing it somewhere else on the bed whilst he — perverted as he knew he was — admired your figure, his hands mellowly brushing your arms and kneading your curves, wanting to ingrain this image of you for the rest of his life.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. How are you so pretty?”

His cock was shrieking now, hell, he was struggling to contain himself. But he could hold off a little longer, right?

No. No I can’t.

His hands weren’t even his anymore, by the time he’d ceased gazing at you, his belt was being yanked out and he was aggressively tugging his pants down, a sharp slap! bouncing off the walls as his dick emerged from its confines, dribbles of translucent white steadily seeped out the shroomy head.

He inched closer to you, deciding to fully ditch his clothes as he tenderly brought your hands into his. He covered them each in kisses, suckled on your fingertips, before guiding them towards his throbbing crotch, your fingers tightly clutched onto it; it’s like you’ve wanted this as much as him!

Shit. Fuck. Fuck you’re so pretty.

Blanketing your fingers with his longer ones, Sol slowly pumped himself into your palm, his whole body almost falling on top of you with how violently he shook at the sheer magnitude of carnal pleasure that coursed through his veins.

A pitiful whine emitted from his tongue as he commenced vigorously propelling himself into your hand, the drastic change in speed and temperament making the sensations nearly overwhelming.

It forced him to hold his weight up over you; like his arm was a pillar to a divine shrine, one that he deems you more than worthy of. But he supposed this is the best way to be close to a god, to worship a god.

Shit, I love you. I love you so much, you don’t know how crazed I get when it comes to you.

Sol turned to the small picture of Ichabod, before looking respectlessly at the view under him, and smirked.

From his nigh-omniscience when it comes to you, Sol knows you’ve never had sex, and he’d be damned if your first would be Crowe.

He continued to piston himself into your palm, contemplating whether he should move on…elsewhere, while he could.

Your hands weren’t gonna be enough, he wanted Ichabod to see him fucking you, making love to you; you didn’t have to be conscious, you’d still love him either way.

Sol relished in the thought, as his thrusts grew erratic and variable, his abs clenching and his arms locking in as he prepared to release, to paint his magnum opus — to paint you white with his cum.

I love you, I love you so much, I want you so much, you’re everything to me IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.

He moaned, gripped your hand and placed a messy kiss to your lips, using his other appendage to pump faster and faster, until his body physically stuttered into it — until his whole being shattered, and a fountain of his sperm splattered onto your skin, leaving your body glistening under the vermillion light of the lamp.

But Sol wasn’t done this time, for how could he be? He had to make sure nobody got to you before he did.

He kissed you again, his tongue diving into your mouth, exploring the wet cavern, his hand — the one that formerly served as a buttress — coming down to the band of your shorts, his fingers gently prying them down with your panties, and judging by its appearance, it was one of the few he hadn’t touched — how cute. It’s like you wanted him to gather every garment that’s pressed against your core, that felt your slick as you touched yourself.

Gah, the thought of your fingers buried inside you, toying with your clit, playing with your tits.

Anything you do arouses him, but the thought, oh fuck him, the thought of you using yourself whilst thinking of him — like he about you — makes him feral.

Without even thinking, he plunged two digits into your pussy, silently (s)creaming at how smoothly they entered.

Your body knows it’s mine, hahah! Fuck…you’re hot.

Pressing a thumb to your clit and his other hand over your mouth, Sol feels himself going sexdrunk, watching in slick satisfaction the squelches and pretty little Os your hole made around him, trying to crush his bones and slurp them into its warmth, as if it wanted him there forever. Not that he mind, he’d curl up inside you and live as your sentient sex toy if he had his way.

He sighs, his cock turning a brutal shade of red as his eyes observe the beauty that lay within how well cocooned he is inside you, and that’s with his fingers!

Repositioning your wrists so that he could comfortably hold them in one of his own, he redirects his attention to your pussy, thrusting with vehement pleasure into your depths, feeling your wet rapture on his skin, and his pace only increases; like fire on drywood.

The flames of his lust for you, the burning pyre of his love for you, it wasn’t enough in his eyes to see you so shortly each night. It shouldn’t be normal for him, he wanted to take you, to have and hold and love and worship and admire and caress you each day and night, for all his life until both of your ephemeral existences fell by the threads and you both lie in a shared sepulchre next to the sea.

He goes faster, his thumb circling the fleshy nub with affection, a small whimper stirring from your lips.

“Mh…C-crowe?”

Sol ceases, ears alert, eyes widened as he realised whose name you uttered.

Hah. Hahahahah. That motherfucker.

He was gonna go nice and soft on you, gonna be loving to you; but clearly, clearly you needed a little…reminder, of whose thick, fat, juicy cock was inside you.

Removing his sticky fingers, Sol tore apart your thighs, his nails etched so callously in your flesh he barely registered the groan that slipped past your mouth.

Crowe huh? My gorgeous darling, you’re so beautiful but you should know you can’t say such vile things.

He moved his cock with a tenderness towards your gaping entrance, the head brushing against your labia, a waterfall of gasps tumbling out of his mouth as the contact — evasive yet so direct — sent rushes of cold adrenaline down his spine, making him arch himself into you, searching for the closeness he’d wanted for so long.

Cupping your hand in his, he forced himself deep inside you, an onslaught of euphoria surging past any potential despondencies he might’ve had and he slammed his lips onto yours, the slapping of skin and the popping of each entry and exit his cock made out of you left him dazed in the sensual chorus of a symphony built upon ecstasy.

Even in all the times Sol’s touched himself to you, fucked himself into your undergarments or clothes, he’s never thought how immaculately well you fit around him, as if you were the warm, tight nut to his aching, etched bolt.

He was in pain, a beloved pain that came only from first love and lust, his heart screaming as he kissed your lips again and again, squeezing the life out of your hands as he muttered an obsessive, possessive manta:

I love you. I love you. I love you.

He spent so many years waiting in eager anticipation for you to be his — to feel this sick love that he felt for you — like he was yours, and now, now he had you, claimed you. He wished Crowe was here so he could spit down his stupid throat. The idea felt tempting, maybe Hyugo could help him one more time.

But that’s for later, he’s with you now, and nothing is more invaluable to Solivan Brugmansia than you.

He couldn’t cease his gratifying motions, his suppressed moans, or the blitzes of unfiltered joy that rained down his face as he cried; fell apart both bodily and soulfully. His lips fell to your neck again and he marked you, tainted your priceless flesh with his teeth, contaging you with the plague that long since infested his mind.

His thrusts grew sloppier, his body was boiling as he stuttered out a hushed whimper:

Shit, I love you, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I love you so much-

And with a sharp bite to your shoulder, a callous bracelet of bruises to your wrists, and blood seeping from your swollen lips, Sol came deep within your heat — oceans of his desire-fueled suspension tumbling about inside you, painting you in white, his dove-white passion. For you.

Only you.

Yet as the waves of his lust left him spent and empty, he rose his sweating body above your form, tears running down his pallid face, and cupped your cheek.

He knew he should clean you up before he loses himself once more, but whilst he remained buried within you — his kingdom, filled with the seas of his undying adoration, he turned to the photo of Jericho Ichabod, yanked it off the wooden surface — and tore it to shreds.

#reminder that geo is superior #the kid at the back #tkatb vn #tkatb #tkatb x reader #sol brugmansia #solivan brugmansia #tkatb sol #i died for three months and came back #and sol came inside you #how lovely #anyway hyugo and crowe smuts coming soon mayhaps idk but uh yuh teehee #IM RUSTYYYYY #i am free from my debts

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aengelren · 1 year ago

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Forgot we share the same birthday, happy birthday Hachiko ♡

#we’re litterally the same #nov 30th our special day #saggitarius #my long lost soulmate #nana #hachiko #nana osaki #nana hachi #nana komatsu #<3

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athenamikaelson · 2 months ago

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Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Ch. 14

Word Count- 5.3k

Warnings- Sexual innuendos (if you’re dirty-minded), swearing, violence, death, blood, Klaus is a dick🙃

“Wait so the students get together and just trash the school,” Alastair questions as he pulls his Porsche into the school parking lot.

I roll my eyes and sigh at yet another question from him about tonight as we both step out of the car.

“Like the one-hundred other times you’ve asked, no we are not trashing the school, we’re setting up pranks,” I frown at the thought, “Ok. Maybe it is slightly trashing the school.”

“Ok, that’s great. I guess,” He mutters as he puts his arm around my shoulders as we walk towards the front door.

“What I don’t get though, is why I have to come?”

I brush his hand off my shoulder and move to open the door before he can do it. He rolls his eyes at my antics and I smile as I motion for him to enter first.

“Age before beauty,” I smirk, “And you have to go because Elena and Caroline are making me go. And you said you’ve never been to a public school and this’ll be your first and last year of it. So we’re putting out all the stops. Besides you’re my side piece, I have to bring you.”

Alastair begins to say something but the sound of his phone dinging stops him. I watch in silence as he picks it up to read what text he just got. But I frown when his usually happy face shifts. His jaw clenches and his right eye twitches as he reads the message.

“Is everything ok?”

Alastair eyes shift to me for a moment as if forgetting I was here. He quickly writes off a message, puts the phone back into his pocket, and then nods at me.

“Ya,” His tone cold, “I’m fine. Let’s just get this night over with.”

At his harsh and cold tone, I frown.

“If something is wrong you can tell me, y’know. That’s what friends do,” I quietly tell him as I try to keep up with his long strides.

“I’m fine,” He says back without sparing me a glance.

“Really, if somethings the-”

“I said I’m fine,” I flinch back slightly as Alastair bites back at me and I feel my hands start to shake.

“I’m sorry. I um..,” I bite down hard on my lower lip, “I’m sorry.”

I can see Alastair finally face me out of my peripheral but I just focus on the door ahead as I open it.

“Y/N. I didn’t-”

A high-pitched squealing cuts out Alastair's voice.

“You guys are finally here,” Caroline’s high-pitched voice assaults my ears as I’m being grabbed by two strong arms and wrapped into a hug.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!”

I laugh slightly at Caroline’s comment, “Caroline, it’s only been like a week?”

Caroline leans back to give me a roll of her eyes, “Well you’ve missed a lot,” She shoots a glance at Alastair who has made his way over to Tyler, “I’ll tell you about it later. But right now we have a lot of work to do!”

Caroline practically skips away as she gestures to what I now see are mouse traps that litter the left side of the classroom.

“We need to get all these,” She gestures to the traps on the desks, “Everywhere!”

I look around at the classroom and then at Bonnie and Elena who are both laughing at Caroline's enthusiasm. As soon as I see Bonnie I begin to walk over to her since I haven’t seen her all summer but a flash of blonde fills my vision.

“You guys can catch up later. We are on a tight schedule right now. So get moving!”

Caroline thrusts a bag of mouse traps into my arms and then walks over to Alastair and does the same. I watch my friend look at the traps and then take a deep breath.

“She’s been like this all night,” Elena whispers as she makes her way over to me.

I kneel to the floor and start placing the traps as I talk with her, “She’s always like this.”

Elena mutters out a “true” as she starts placing traps down as well. I glance up and make eye contact with my witch friend who gives me a smile and a friendly wave. I replicated that as I glanced at Caroline to ensure she didn’t notice. Thankfully she’s complaining to Tyler about not going fast enough.

—-

I’m just about to place my last trap when I hear the door to the classroom open. I go to yell at the person to stop, but sadly it’s too late. I watch in defeat as all the mouse traps ignite and snaps are heard across the room.

“Oh, come on,” Caroline exclaims, “Seriously? Do you know how long it took for us to set all this up?”

I glare at Matt Donovan as he stands there looking at all of us sheepishly.

“Forgot about senior prank night, huh,” Tyler questions his friend.

“Clearly.”

Caroline is repulsed by this answer, “How could you forget? We’ve only been waiting for this since like freshman year.”

“Yeah, Matt. If I’m doing this, you’re doing this,” Elena chimes in and I nod along with her because I would much rather be home. Especially since I had another one of my little heart attacks today. Luckily this one lasted only a few minutes unlike others this summer that lasted much longer.

Damon caught me a month ago having one and made me make a doctor’s appointment to get it checked out. To which I accused him of actually liking me and having a heart. He denied that of course and said it was because he didn’t want me dying in his house and getting my dead person stench everywhere.

Two weeks later he drove me to some fancy heart doctor in the city and of course, with my luck, the doctor was stumped. Saying he doesn’t see anything wrong on any of the tests he’s done. When I left he said he’d ask around to some of his doctor friends and let me know if they know anything. But, that was over a month ago and I haven’t heard back from him.

“I’m kind of surprised any of you are doing this,” Matt says.

“Caroline’s making us,” Bonnie says.

“Y/n’s making me,” Alastair smirks at me but I turn away from him.

“We’re about to be seniors. These are the memories that’ll stay with us forever, and if…”

“And if we don’t create these memories now,” Elena interjects, “Then what’s the point of it all?”

“Go ahead and make fun, I don’t care,” I laugh as Caroline shrugs everyone’s teasing off.

“You’re all lame,” Tyler walks by us with bags in his hands, “I’ve got ten more classrooms to prank.”

I frown as I feel I tugging on my hand and I realize I’m being pulled up by Elena.

“Excuse me?”

“Hey! Where are you going,” Bonnie asks and I have the same question as Elena leads me to the door. I see Alastair start to follow us but Caroline stops him by shoving a bag into his hands.

“We’re going to go superglue Alaric’s desk shut. We’re making memories,” Elena smiles at them and then squeezes my hand as she leads me out into the hall. I hear Caroline yell out to us and Elena giggles back.

“I feel like this could’ve been a one-woman job,” I raise my eyebrow at Elena who shrugs.

“I haven’t seen you all week, I missed you,” She sheepishly says the last part and I smile at my friend.

“Well our manager has been making Alastair and I take practically all the shifts,” I explain and then squeeze her hand, “But I missed you too.”

Elena smiles at me as she pushes a door open for me. As we turn the corner she stops to an abrupt halt though and grips my hand so hard I think she might break it. I go to question what's wrong but as soon as I look up I realize what’s scared her. Actually, not a what. A who, Klaus.

“There’s my girl,” Klaus’ accent fills my ears for the first time in months and a wave of nausea and something else washes over me.

“Klaus,” Elena exhales quickly and then begins to pull me back with her but as we turn around Klaus speeds in front of us. I feel my hands start to shake and Elena must feel this too because she uses our connected hands to push me behind her protectively.

“You’re supposed to be dead. What are we going to do about that,” Klaus asks and within a moment he’s grabbing her roughly making our hands fall away from each other. I go to help her but Klaus glares at me.

“Don’t,” The way he bites out the word makes me halt and I have no idea what to do.

As I’m looking at Klaus I don’t think he has any idea what to do with me either as he seems to be thinking over something in his mind. I hear him growl something under his breath and then whip around.

“Follow,” Klaus’ bark instantly has me slightly jogging to catch up with my friend and him as he leads us down the hall.

“You put a rather large kink in my plans, sweetheart. The whole point of breaking the curse and becoming a hybrid was to make more hybrids. I haven't been able to do that. Now my bet is, it has something to do with the fact that you’re still breathing.”

My breathing comes out shallow as I’m literally jogging now to keep up with them through all the halls and doors he’s leading us through. I want nothing more than to get my friend away from him but pissing Klaus off would only result in someone’s death.

“If you’re going to kill me, just do it!”

“Not until I know I’m right. But I do have ways of making you suffer.”

—

Klaus thrusts open one last door and we’re entering the currently packed gym where students are placing cups and other pranks around.

“Attention, seniors. You have officially been busted. Prank night is over,” Klaus yells to the students in what I think is some kind of American accent. One that makes me want to put thumbtacks into my ears, “Head on home.”

“You two,” He stops Dana and Chad, “I remember you.”

Dana looks at him confused, “I’m sorry. Who are you?”

“Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t in my right mind last time we met. Lift your foot up, please, Dana,” Klaus compels the girl and I frown as she does.

“If she drops her foot, Chad, I want you to beat her to death. Understood?”

My eyes widen and a shocked gasp escapes my mouth as I watch in fear as Chad nods.

“Don’t, Klaus. You don’t have to hurt anybody.”

“Oh, come on, love. Of course, I do.”

“Why? To show everyone just how scary you are by killing teenagers? Why not pick on someone your own size, or age, for once,” I angrily say to the man whose spine seems to straighten out as he hears my voice.

Klaus turns to me and his playful smirk morphs into a dark look as he makes eye contact with me, “When did I say you could speak?”

I try not to let his dark tone and look sway my confidence but this guy really freaks me the fuck out, “I didn’t know I needed your permission,” My voice shakes and I’m hoping he doesn't notice, but by the way his mouth turns into a snarl I think he heard it.

Klaus drops Elena’s arm and slowly stalks towards me like a predator stalking its prey. I think I hear Elena try to get him to stop but all I can focus on is Klaus’ blue eyes that seem to darken as he stalks closer to me. I wait for the worst to happen as he gets a foot away from me but he halts when something diverts his eye. I follow his line of vision to see him staring at my neck. I take a deep breath and wait for him to sink his teeth into me and probably kill me as he reaches his hand up, but I frown when his fingers graze my necklace. The wolf one I had gotten for my birthday. The one Alastair swears didn’t come from him.

Klaus’ snarl turns into a slight frown as he rubs the wolf one last time and then looks me in the eyes.

“Go sit down,” He doesn’t give me time to argue with him as he goes back over to Elena who gestures for me to go and sit down on the bleachers. I only do because of the pleading look on my best friend’s face.

—

I watch silently in fear as Dana struggles to keep her foot raised. Elena questions Klaus about Stefan’s whereabouts but Klaus shrugs her off. The sound of a door opening turns all of our attention. Fear washes over me as Bonnie and Matt enter.

“No!”

“Bonnie get out of here,” Elena and I both yell to them but it’s too late.

Klaus speeds over to Bonnie, “Ah, I was wondering when you’d show up. Now we can get started. Ah, Dana, why don’t you relax? You and Chad sit tight,” He yells to the two innocent teens and I feel tears fall down my cheeks as Dana falls into her boyfriend's arms in pain.

I stand up to go help them.

“SIT,” Klaus’ booming voice makes me shake as I helplessly sit back down on the bleachers.

“I assume you’re the reason Elena is still walking around alive? That’s right. If you want to blame someone, blame me,” Bonnie tells the man.

“Oh, there’s no need for blame, love. Just your witchy interference seems to have caused some undesirable side effects. And since you caused the problem I’m going to have you find the fix.”

Right when Klaus is done explaining to Bonnie his plan the door is pushed open and a pretty blond walks in with Tyler in her grasp.

“Get off me!”

“Hush now,” The blonde shushes him in an accent like Klaus’.

“I’d like you all to meet my sister…Rebekah,” At the mention of yet another Original I grab my already shaking hands in comfort, “Word of warning, she can be quite mean.”

“Don’t be an arse,” Rebekah says as she pushes Tyler into Klaus’ arms.

“Leave him alone!”

“I’m going to make this very simple,” Klaus drags an injured Tyler, “Every time I attempt to turn a werewolf into a vampire hybrid they die during the transition. It’s quite horrible, actually,” We all freeze as Klaus bites into his wrist and shoves it into Tyler’s mouth.

“I need you to find a way to save my hybrids, Bonnie. And for Tyler’s sake…you better hurry.”

Gasps are heard around the room as we watch Klaus snap Tyler’s neck and throw his body onto the floor next to him.

I watch petrified with tears streaming down my face as Klaus smiles happily at Elena, Bonnie, and Matt.

“He killed him,” Matt says as he sits next to his friend’s dead body.

“He’s not dead. Klaus’ blood will turn him into a vampire.”

“And if Bonnie’s successful he’ll live through his transition,” He turns to Bonnie, “Go on then. Go and fetch your grimoires and enchantments and whatnot. I’ll hold onto Elena for safekeeping.”

Bonnie gives Elena one last glance and then runs out of the room with Matt.

“So this is the latest doppelganger,” Girl-Klaus taunts Elena, “The original one was much prettier.”

“They look the same,” I say out loud, “That’s like the whole point of doppelgangers. I’m sure the library has dictionaries if you need to look it up.”

My voice draws the woman’s attention and she growls at me. I realize being bitchy to an original vampire wasn’t the smartest thing to do. I try to look tough as she comes over to me but with the dried tears on my face, I guess I look pretty pathetic.

“And who the hell are you,” Rebekah starts stalking towards me and I stand up from my seat.

“Y/N, Elena’s friend,” I lift my chin and try to sound confident.

Rebekah smiles at me but it is the farthest thing from friendly, within a second she reaches her hand up and I close my eyes fearing for the worst but nothing happens.

“Don’t,” Klaus’ voice fills my ears and I open my eyes to see his back in front of me blocking me from his sister’s view.

“She’s nothing! Come on brother let me have a little fun! She insulted me,” Rebekah's annoyed voice sounds as she tries to reason with her brother.

“And you insulted her friend,” Klaus says and then leans down slightly to be face to face with his sister, “Now back up,” The last sentence comes out so low I can barely hear it. But the anger in Klaus’ voice is evident enough to have his sister taking several steps back.

Klaus turns around for a moment and if I’m not mistaken it would appear that he’s looking me over. His blue eyes make their way over my tear-covered face and the movement of his hand catches my eye. I watch as he clenches and unclenches his right hand before it’s shoved into the pocket of his jeans.

A growl escapes Klaus’ mouth catching my attention. He doesn’t spare me another glance as he marches back over to Elena.

Rebekah who stands maybe 5 feet away from me looks at me with a deep frown on her face. One mixed with what I think to be confusion.

“What did you say your name was,” She questions. This time less hostile and more inquisitive.

“Y/n…”

Rebekah keeps staring at me as if she can’t figure out something.

“Sister, take the wolf-boy elsewhere,” Klaus beckons his sister and Rebekah shoots me one last look before grabbing Tyler’s arm and dragging him out of the room.

—-

I sit silently on the bleachers as Elena comforts Dana and Chad. Klaus sits comfortably on the ground as if this is an everyday experience for him. Which it probably is. My ass starts to hurt from the hard bleachers and let out a low groan.

“Excuse me,” I try to get Klaus’ attention but realize he’s already looking at me.

Klaus’ eyes narrow as he looks at me, “What?”

“Can I get up,” I gesture to the bleachers, “My ass hurts.”

For a split second, I could swear Klaus’ upper lip twitches but in a moment his cold look is back. He seems to think for a moment then smirks, “Either keep sitting on those bleachers and bruise your ass, or…,” He narrows his eyes at me and glances at a crying Dana, “You can switch spots with Little Dana here.”

Klaus seems to be proud of himself or something believing that I’m going to shut up and stay seated but without a second thought, I stand up from my spot on the bleachers and walk towards Dana.

“Y/N, no,” I hear Elena whisper to me as I grab Dana’s arm and push her to go sit on the bleachers. She sends me a teary-eyed smile and I turn to look at Klaus, who once again is already looking at me, and balance myself as I lift my left foot.

Klaus glares at me and I hold eye contact with him for so long that my foot starts to shake. He looks down at my wobbly leg and a shit-eating grin makes its way onto his face. I watch as he stands from his seated position and makes his way over to me. He stops in front of me and turns his head mockingly to the side.

“How long do you think it’ll take before you fall onto your knees before me,” Klaus says and my knees shake involuntarily.

“I’ve got great calves so I could do this all night wolf-boy,” I say and Klaus raises his eyebrows in slight surprise before slowly dragging his eyes down my body towards my calves.

“You’re not wrong,” He says under his breath before looking back up to me.

The sound of a door opening alerts us all and a relieved sigh leaves me as I see Stefan enter the gym.

“Stefan,” Elena exhales.

“Klaus,” Stefan calls out to the man in front of me who rolls his eyes.

“Come to save your damsel, mate?”

“I came to ask for your forgiveness. And pledge my loyalty.”

Stefan’s words have me frowning, “Excuse me? Pledge your loyalty to this dictator,” I throw up a finger to Klaus who rolls his eyes at me.

“Well, you broke that pledge once already,” Klaus says like a hurt little boy.

“Elena means nothing to me anymore,” Ya ok, “And whatever you ask of me… I will do.”

Klaus thinks for a moment before turning around, “Fair enough. Let’s drink on it. Kill them.”

I gasp as Klaus points to Dana and Chad who are sitting together on the bleachers.

“What are you waiting for? Kill them.”

“No! Stefan, don’t. He’s not going to hurt me. He already said,” Elena tries to reason with her boyfriend but is stopped as Klaus hits her across the face.

I loud gasp escapes me and I drop my foot not even caring if it gets me killed as I rush towards my best friend.

I grab Elena and check her over for any wounds as she watches Stefan and Klaus fight behind us.

“She means nothing to you? Your lies just keep piling up,” Klaus says as he holds Stefan by the throat.

“Let her and Y/n go! I’ll do whatever you want, you have my word!”

“Your word doesn’t mean much. I lived by your word all summer during which time I never had to resort to this. Stop fighting.”

“Don’t do this, don’t do this.”

“I didn’t want to. All I wanted was your allegiance. Now I’m going to have to take it. You will do exactly as I say when I say it. You will not run, you will not hide you will simply just obey.”

I watch in horror as I realize that Klaus is compelling away Stefan’s free will. Elena and I both watch horrified as Stefan stands there like a zombie.

“Now kill them…Ripper.”

Before I can see anything Elena grabs me into her arms and pushes my head into her neck. I squeeze my eyes shut as I hear Dana and Chad’s terrified screams and then the drop of their bodies. Tears fall from my cheeks and from the dampness on my shoulder I can tell Elena is crying as well.

Klaus leans down towards Elena and me and shoves Elena away from me. My butt falls onto the ground and I watch as Klaus starts taunting my friend.

“It’s always nice to see a vampire in his true element. The species has become such a broody lot.”

“No. You did this to him,” Elena growls out. I look over to Stefan as he shamefully wipes Dana and Chad’s blood off his chin and I have to swallow the bile rising up my throat.

“I invited him to the party, love. He’s the one dancing on the table.”

“You’re a monster,” I bite out at the man.

Klaus stands up and walks over to me. He looks down at me and smirks, “I’m the monster, princess,” Klaus leans down slightly and his smirk deepens. He raises a finger and mockingly wipes a stray tear off my face, “And you, are on your knees in front of this monster.”

I look down at my kneeled position and can’t seem to care what me not keeping one fucking foot up means. All I know is that I hate this man in front of me.

“Go fuck yourself,” I bite out at him and his smirk deepens.

He leans down further so our faces are almost touching and whispers out, “Such nasty words from such a pretty mouth.”

“Where is it? Where’s my necklace?”

Rebekah running into the room and towards Elena diverts Klaus’ attention from me.

“What are you talking about?”

“She has my necklace. Look,” Rebekah accuses Elena as she hands her brother a phone.

Klaus inspects something on the device before looking over to Elena, “Well, well. More lies.”

“Where is it?”

“I don’t have it anymore,” Elena responds.

“You’re lying,” Rebekah yells and flashes towards Elena and rips into her neck.

I jump up in surprise and run to help my friend but Klaus has already pushed his sister away.

“Knock it off!”

“Make her tell me, Nik!”

Klaus places his hands to his lips and kneels down next to Elena as I hold her shoulders, “Where’s the necklace, sweetheart? Be honest.”

I quickly grab the sweater I’m wearing and drag it over my head, leaving me only in my white tank top, and quickly press it to Elena’s neck. I look to Klaus who keeps eye contact with me until Elena speaks up.

“I’m telling the truth. Katherine stole it.”

Klaus sighs, “Katerina. Of course. Well, that’s unfortunate. If we had the necklace it would make things a whole lot easier for your witch, but since we’re doing this the hard way,” Klaus stands up and walks over to the control pad for the scoreboard, “Let’s put a clock on it. Shall we?”

A loud buzzer sounds, “Twenty minutes. If Bonnie hasn’t found a solution by then I want you to feed again, only this time,” He walks over to face Stefan, “I want you to feed on Elena. You know you want to.”

“No, Klaus. Don’t do this to him,” Elena begs.

“No one leaves. If she tries to run, fracture her spine,” Klaus walks by me grabbing my upper arm and pulling me, “You’re with me.”

—

As soon as we’re out of the gym Klaus drops my arm and rubs his hand on his jeans.

“If anyone here has cooties it’s you,” I whisper out but he must’ve heard it as he rolls his eyes.

“You sit,” Klaus motions towards the wall and I sigh.

I sit and watch silently as Rebekah and Klaus converse with one another a few feet away from me.

“You’re not going to let him kill her,” I say out loud from my spot. Klaus and Rebekah both look my way and Klaus narrows his eyes at me.

“Is that so?”

“I mean I would think so. Unless you’re an idiot.”

This comment seems to ruffle some of Klaus’ feathers as he narrows his eyes at me and stalks toward me. Rebekah watches silently from her spot.

“I am not an idiot,” Klaus says and I raise an eyebrow staring up at him.

“I never said you were. I said you would be an idiot. That’s two different things.”

Klaus stares at me and once again it looks like he’s fighting an internal battle, “Do you always talk this much?”

“No. At least not usually. Alastair says…”

I stop my sentence when I remember my friend is still somewhere in this school. At least I think he is. I hope to god he left when all the other students did.

“Alastair?”

Klaus turns his head to the side questionably.

“You look like a puppy when you do that, y’know,” I snarkily chime out and am almost as surprised with my confidence as Klaus seems to be.

A snort is heard from behind him and I look to see Rebekah covering her laugh with a cough. Her brother sends her a deadly glare and she instantly sobers up.

Klaus turns back towards me and leans down to face me again, “Just because I didn’t kill you back there. That doesn’t mean I won’t do it now. Watch your tongue, princess. Before I rip it out.”

I hold my breath as Klaus stands back up and he seems to hear something as he turns his head. Without a second glance at me or his sister Klaus speeds away.

—

“Are you suicidal,” Rebekah’s voice catches my attention. I look over at her and see her watching me with an almost amazed look.

“Not currently,” I bite out.

“How long have you known my brother,” She questions.

I shake my head in annoyance, “Why?”

Just like her brother, she narrows her eyes at me, “Answer the question.”

I close my eyes and lean my head against the lockers I’m seated against, “I’ve had like two conversations with the guy.”

“That’s impossible,” She responds and I groan as I open my eyes.

“Well, it’s the truth.”

We both sit in silence for a moment staring at each other. After a moment Rebekah takes a step forward and I tense up against the lockers.

“Calm down. I’m not going to touch you. I just want to get a closer look at you,” She says.

“Why?”

Rebekah kneels in front of me and I watch wide-eyed and silently unnerved as she marks every spot of my face with her eyes.

“Is there-”

“Shhh.”

Okay.

Rebekah leans in a little closer and for a second I’m wondering if this girl is going to kiss me or bite into my neck but a gasp escapes her lips and she leans back on his hands.

“It’s you,” She whispers in awe.

“Excuse me?”

“Your eyes…”

“What about my eyes?”

“REBEKAH,” Klaus’ loud voice is heard through the halls and Rebekah quickly moves away from me.

Klaus storms down the hall and glares at his sister. I watch in confusion as they have a silent conversation with their eyes before Klaus begins walking down the hall.

“Follow.”

—

I follow Klaus and Rebekah into a classroom. The latter keeps making me feel uneasy with her staring.

“Well, the verdicts in. The original witch says the doppelganger should be dead.” Klaus says to who I can now see is Caroline and Tyler.

“Does that mean we can kill her,” Rebekah asks excitedly and I shoot her a nasty look.

“No, I’m fairly certain it means the opposite,” Within a second Rebekah is grabbing onto Caroline holding her back as Klaus gives Tyler a vial of Elena’s blood. The latter drinks it. And in a split second, he’s convulsing on the floor and groaning in pain. I flinch back when Tyler screams in pain as he grabs his head. But when he stops and opens his eyes I gasp as I see his once brown eyes have illuminated to gold and dark veins make their way up his face.

“Well, that’s a good sign.”

—

“Where are you taking me,” I ask Klaus as he leads me out of the school doors and into the parking lot.

“Stop talking,” He bites out.

I roll my eyes and continue walking but freeze in horror as I see Alastair leaning against his car. He notices me and Klaus and stands to his full height.

“Alastair go!”

I run and try to warn him but as I get to him he doesn’t even look me in the eye. He’s staring behind me. At Klaus.

“I’ll be leaving to find more wolves, mate,” I frown as Klaus speaks to my friend.

“Shall I come,” My vision goes blurry as I watch in shock as Alastair responds to Klaus.

“Alastair…”

“No,” Klaus looks over to me with a smirk, “You’re still needed here.”

“What… Alastair what is he talking about, how do you-”

“Get in the car, Y/N,” Alastair’s cold voice says to me as he moves past me and opens the passenger door to his car. He doesn’t move his gaze away from Klaus who watches the interaction with a delighted smirk.

“No! No! Not until you tell me what’s happening. You know him,” I yell and point in confusion and anger to Klaus.

Alastair doesn’t look at me but he clenches his jaw.

“Get her home safe,” Klaus smirks at me, “Old friend.”

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luveline · 2 months ago

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hello lovely angel!! humbly requesting zombie!steve au, perhaps more of jealous steve? i love their dynamic so much💗 maybe someone is flirting with reader, and enter protective steve:)

thanks for requesting! fem, 2k

You tend to think of it in two weird halves. You love Steve, and you never would’ve known that without the end of the world, so things are okay. Sometimes you wonder if he ever could’ve loved you if he hadn’t been so close to you for so long, but he loves you in this insane capacity of softness that says otherwise. Like, soulmate style.

It didn’t begin that way. Steve your reluctant guide, and you his unlikely saviour. You’d stopped him from dying at the very start of it all and he couldn’t leave you behind. And Steve, he’d been mean to you. He didn’t want to take care of you initially, but you’d grown to get along. You’d argue black and blue and he’d still rub your back at night.

There are so many moments you’ve shared that make what you have all the more special. A hundred different memories from before you’d ever kissed. You think about it now, watching him across the firepit as he shows a young girl, Cassandra, how to braid her hair.

The one that’s sticking today is when Steve got really bad food poisoning for the first time. When you’d known you were in love with him for a while, and when he’d stopped pretending he didn’t know. He’d been sick everywhere, on both your shoes, and you’d rubbed his back through everything.

It was nice to take care of him. Nicer that night when you’d shared a bed and he’d hugged you half to death.

He has no idea how much he means to you, or how much those moments with him kept you going when you were all alone. You’re lucky now to have found community, but those stolen hours in bed with him hugging him and getting to be his support, you wouldn’t have made it here without them.

“Hey.”

You look up as a man sits down. A boy, a man —what do you call twenty somethings? You don’t feel like a woman most of the time, but you are.

“Hi,” you say.

“I’m Jamison.”

“You’re Eddie’s friend, right?”

“Who, Munson?” Jamison makes a kidding face, a disgusted scrunch of his eyebrows that falls away to more friendly fondness. “Yeah, we go back. You’re Eddie’s friend too, right? I saw you guys taking out some laundry a few days ago.”

Jamison is handsome. He has tan skin, short hair, and a crooked nose. His smile is disarming. If you hadn’t fallen in love with the handsomest guy around, you might feel nervous under his gaze.

Time spent ugly under Steve’s reverent handling makes you confident. You genuinely feel prettier knowing Steve loves you, and it makes it easier to be yourself with strangers.

“Eddie’s awesome,” you say easily. “I thought he was gonna kill me when we first met, but he’s too nice.”

“Nice, really?”

Jamison is casual, as people go. You wonder what his motivations are for talking to you at first, but as conversation stretches, littered with the cracking pops of the fireplace and brief pauses of surprisingly comfortable silence, you realise he’s just talking. Maybe he’s lonely. You know how that feels.

He tells you that he and Eddie had been in a rock band together before the apocalypse. You’d known to some extent that Eddie was in a band, but Jamison tells you all the details you’d been missing. They were called Corroded Coffin, four members, Eddie played guitar and Jamison thought he was pretty fucking good at it, actually.

“I don’t think we would’ve been, like, Metallica. But we could’ve been good. We were gonna make a record.”

You smoke sympathetically. “I bet you could’ve been.”

“What were you doing? Before all this?”

“I honestly barely remember,” you say quietly. Your life before Steve is a blur, and it’s painful, too. “Things are harder now, I know that. I wish every day that we could go back to how things were, you know, I miss TV and grocery stores and my family.” You lick your lips. “I wish things were different, but somehow, I think I like my life now. I have stuff to do. Is that crazy?”

“It’s not crazy. Everything fucking sucks,” —you both laugh— “but that’s not crazy. I’m lucky, I still have my dad, and my friends. There’s purpose in being here.”

You nod emphatically, just once. “Exactly.”

You have purpose, now. You get to be a friend, a girlfriend, a confidente. You take care of people.

It all comes back to Steve, at the end of the day. Would you change the world if it meant never having met him?

Nope.

You glance across the fire for him, but he’s not there.

You put your arm behind your back and bend, looking for him.

“Looking for someone?” Jamison asks.

You deflate with relief when you spot him standing near the gaggle of tents about fifty feet away. He’s looking at you from over Robin’s shoulder. You wave, and he waves back with a big smile.

Something seems a little wrong.

“Steve,” you explain.

“He’s your boyfriend, yeah? Eddie told me you’ve been together since the start.”

You don’t bother correcting him. He might not mean together as how you’re thinking it. “Yeah, that’s him. Have you met him?”

“Kind of. We all thought he was a huge dick, back then.”

“He sort of was,” you say. “I mean, we all had our own stuff going on. I get that I’m biased, but he’s my favourite person I’ve ever met. He’s so kind, I don’t think I could describe it to you or anyone just how much he cares about people. I wouldn’t be here without him, and… I don’t know, I’m not saying you’re wrong, but if you ever wanted to meet him again, he’s amazing. He’s a great friend. He’s so fucking funny, he makes me laugh every day.”

“He’s sort of giving me the stink eye,” Jamison says.

You wave your hand weakly. “He has raging jealousy issues.”

“Shit, am I getting you in trouble?”

“No, never!” you say, tempted to laugh. “He doesn’t get mad at me for stuff like that. He’s normal, I promise. Just sensitive.”

You tell Jamison that it was nice talking to him because it really was, but you’ve been missing Steve for hours already and you need to get back to him before you go totally bonkers.

He’s sitting on the floor in the tent. The weather has been beautiful lately, you could sleep under the stars if you weren’t scared of being zombie charcuterie. Steve has stripped down to just his jeans and socks, no t-shirt or shoes to be seen. He has his sketchbook splayed open on his thigh, but he abandons it the moment you kneel down.

“Hey,” you say.

Steve folds his book closed, pencil between its pages. “Hi. Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?”

You shuffle in to take his hand. Clumsy touches, his fingers warm and a tad clammy between yours. “You told me yesterday that I have a smile like an angel. I know you were kidding, but I still felt it.”

“I wasn’t kidding,” he says, wrinkling his nose with a smile. “You think every compliment is a joke.”

“Don’t make me laugh so much, then.”

He squeezes your fingers gently. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself to Jamison. Just, I knew him already from school. And he did not like me.”

“That’s okay. He seemed nice, I think you’d get along if you met now.” You kick your shoes off and crawl as close to him as you can get. He looks up at you, but you look down at his lap. “What are you drawing?”

“I was just trying to touch up that landscape I did of the river,” he says, a sheepishness to him as he opens his sketchbook.

You read it with affection, trace lines and hatchings in awe. “Steve, I really wish you had time and space to do this stuff properly. Not that you aren’t doing it properly, just, I know you could make something just as beautiful as this with paint.” You slide to be sitting properly, putting you both at the same height, so you can meet his eyes as you continue. “Did you know what you wanted to do, when you were finishing school? Did you ever think about art?”

“I thought about it.” His lips quirk. “Mostly about how my dad would’ve kicked me out if I said something that stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“I know.”

That would’ve been a nice life. You and Steve living together, with a basement for his paintings, or a garage turned studio. You’d read books together every night like you do now, and you’d scrub paint smudges off of his cheek.

You love him so much it must give you an aura.

“I’ve got nothing to worry about, huh?” he asks softly.

You drift in, tipping your head back for a kiss you don’t take. “I don’t know, Steve, Jamison used to be in a rock band.”

He scoffs in disgust. You think it might be a mixture of anger at Jamison and himself. “Who wants to date a rockstar?”

“I might’ve.”

You’re teasing, of course, smiling as your kiss draws nearer, and nearer.

“Well, I can be a rockstar,” he says quietly, warmth of his breath on your lips. “Just give me a chance to get there.”

You brush the tip of your nose against his and hold your breath. “That’s okay,” you say, letting it rush out of you in a huff, your excitement to be kissed too much to bear, “I like my guys all mixed up. Preferably good at track, and swimming, but with a soft side. Kind of guy who fills a sketchbook up with my face.”

Steve lists to the side. Your lips are so close, you can feel the phantom of them against yours as he moves in. “It’s not just your face… it’s your hands, your arms… your everything–”

He cuts his own explanation off with a soft kiss. That softness swiftly hardens, turns rough, ten long seconds of sweetness before his hands coming up behind your head and he’s pressing inward, deepening the kiss, and giving you little room to breathe.

You have no intention of dating any rockstars, but his jealous streak has nothing but upsides for you. Steve knows that his jealousy over the innocuous is his own problem, his own insecurity that he’s working on, and while you sympathise with him (after all, haven’t you yourself worried he’d find someone else he liked more?), you have to confess to enjoying the edge to his kissing.

You make a pleased, humoured sound as he breathes you in like you’re a drug he’s been waiting for. He gets sloppier, and you can’t help pulling away to laugh.

“What?” he asks, thumbing at your cheek in a soft juxtaposition. “Sorry, am I being a dick?”

“No, it’s fine. Kiss me how you want to.”

Steve kisses your cheek softly. “He knows you have a boyfriend, right?”

“He knows.”

Steve hums like he’s smiling and nudges your nose with his, until you part your lips, and he wades in for another dose.

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 5 days ago

Text

63 / 2.6k / soap soulmate au, part 12

...

Trapped at the base of the mountain, you spy your window of opportunity to bolt to the treeline. And you take it.

The adrenaline pumping through your body blunts the pain of the crash. You've scarcely made it into the shadow of the enormous fir trees when a bullet shears past your head and splinters a tree branch six inches away from your ear. Shit. Someone saw you.

You sprint as deep as your lungs can carry you. Then you press back into the nearest trunk. Behind you, two pairs of boots stomp through the snow.

"Saw someone come this way," one voice says. It's not KorTac. "Got a runner."

"There," the other voice says. The sound of a rifle sliding past cloth. Their steps get louder and close in on your position. The voices are low, but the snow carries them to you, crisp and clear.

"Can't let this one get away," one of the men says.

"Oh, we won't."

You tear deeper into the trees, weaving between trunks and jumping over fallen branches. Bullets spray out from behind you. One punches through your side. You stumble, fingers brushing the snow, but don't go down. Johnny's voice echoes in your skull. You'd better live.

The two men on your tail follow. They're relentless. It's clear they have no reservations about cutting down a fleeing, unarmed target. You push onwards, your breathing ragged as you run, ignoring the way your every movement sends a wave of pain down your body. You take cover again, this time behind an enormous fallen log. But you know they know where you are. Behind you, they spread out to circle up and flank you. You grip the shard of glass still in your hand. It's all you have, and it won't be enough.

"Don't try anything," he says. "We've got you now."

Red mist explodes out of his chest. He stumbles and pitches forward to the ground. You don't have time to see where the shot came from. You lurch toward his body, pull the shard of glass across his throat, tear his rifle off him, and return to cover. You look down the scope and search for the other mercenary. You see him taking aim at the one who shot his teammate--Horangi.

Before he can pull the trigger, another single shot rings out from Horang’s rifle. Blood splatters from the man's head, and he goes down.

Behind Horangi, you see two more of them take cover and aim their rifles at the two of you. You press yourself against the fallen trunk, aim, and squeeze the trigger. It takes you more than one squeeze in the haze of adrenaline puppeteering your exhausted body, but you strike one in between the eyes. The other stumbles out of cover to run, and Horangi puts a bullet in his back.

Then the forest goes quiet. Horangi glances back at you over the top of the log. "You alright?" he says.

"Alive." You straighten up, but you don't drop the gun. "Is it clear?"

Horangi glances around "For now," he says. "Let's make ourselves scarce before that changes."

You grip the rifle harder and stare at the roll of zip ties on Horangi's belt. He's your former teammate. He took you prisoner. You let him. Maybe taking what you thought was your only way out is why you see now how things could be different.

Horangi's eyes sharpen. "Careful, rookie," he says, his voice low. "Don't do anything stupid. We're on the same side."

"You're gonna cuff me again."

"That's the idea." Bullets, blood, and shards of wood and needles litter the snow he walks through. "Don't make this hard. I don't want to have to hurt you."

"No. I'm not going back." You widen your stance, pointing the rifle at him.

His eyes narrow. "Careful with that."

You keep your aim steady on him and say nothing.

He watches you, evaluating your grip, the tension in your arms, the cold look on your face. Then he nods toward the bleeding wound on your side. "How long do you think you'll last out here with that?"

"That's not your concern."

"Yeah," he says. "It is."

He regrips his rifle in both hands, shifting his weight. This time, however, he keeps his distance.

"Drop the gun," he says. "Then we'll discuss this without the risk of friendly fire."

You don't back down.

He lets out a short sigh and glances up at the trees. "You really can't just make things easy, huh. You really gonna shoot me?" he says. "After I just saved your life?"

"Yeah."

"You're bluffing."

"I might be," you tell him. "If you wanna take that chance."

He assesses you. A long beat of silence passes.

"That's not like you," he says finally, voice flat. "Your code is quid pro quo. I saved your life. You owe me."

He walks toward you. He's calling your bluff.

You squeeze the trigger. Once, twice. One bullet lodges in his chest plate. The other finds its mark in the joint of his armor--the weak point where chest plate meets shoulder plate. Red sprays out into the gray haze of snow and pines.

He jerks as he takes the shots, curses, and staggers. You're full of nasty surprises today. But his training is the same as yours--when an asset gets mean, KorTac gets worse. He doubles down, pushing himself into a sprint.

You squeeze the trigger again, bullet punching through his armor's elbow joint. Another three pulls produce nothing but empty dry clicks. Shit. He barrels toward you.

You throw the gun aside and reach for the shard of glass, your makeshift knife, but it’s too late. He grabs you, close enough to tear the glass out of your hand, sweep your knees, shove your face into the snow, and force the air out of your lungs with his weight on your back.

Still, you struggle for your freedom, clawing the snow for any kind of grip. Ghost's knee on your back comes dimly to mind.

Before you can get free, Horangi digs his knee into the bullet wound at your side. You bite down on a scream, gritting your teeth against the pain exploding across your body.

"Enough," he says in a low voice. "You're done."

You can barely focus through the pain. Your vision blurs and your muscles tense and twitch blindly against his hold. He lets up the pressure only once the initial wave of pain subsides and you've let out a shuddering gasp.

You lay still in pain for a long moment. When he grabs your hands to cuff you, you strike.

He’s not expecting the elbow to his nose. Then you drive your fist into his kidney--between the panels of his armor--and twist hard.

He grabs you anyway. But you yank your forearm--slicked with blood from your side wound--free from his grip and take off. Blood dots the snow behind you like a trail of scarlet breadcrumbs from the crash site.

You’re on your feet and running through the trees. You’re coasting on adrenaline alone. He’s right at your heels. He catches up.

You both go down hard again, falling through open air for a moment before you hit hard, wet snow-crust. As you struggle, he wraps the cord of a zip tie around one of your wrists and grabs your other. But you slide it free again and dig your red fingers into the snow.

"Just let me go!" you wheeze back at Horangi. "Just say I died in the ambush."

"Hell no. Nothing personal, rookie, but you made your choice. We’re turning you in dead or alive."

The radio on his hip spits and crackles. Warped voices come through. Then real ones in the distance. Shouting. A rough, Scottish brogue. The cold air burns your lungs as you suck it in.

Horangi reaches forward for your other wrist again. You turn and sink your teeth into his gloved hand. He yells. Soap’s voice is nearby. Your vision blurs. The adrenaline is wearing off. You can’t get free to run.

A shout of your name. Close.

"Johnny," you say, your voice a breathless gasp. "Johnny, I'm–"

But Horangi grabs you before you can say anything else. His gloved hand clamps down over your mouth.

"Don't move," Horangi says into your ear. "You move, I put a bullet in his head."

He has to be lying. But you don’t move. You can’t make yourself do it if it means even the slightest chance of putting Soap’s life at risk.

He pulls you up to your knees. You find yourself staring at the rocky side of an eight-foot ledge. No wonder you and Horangi fell so hard. You must’ve tumbled down this drop. If not for the snow cushioning your fall, it would’ve taken you out of commission.

You see Soap coming toward you. Your chest aches with relief before something dawns on you. On your knees, even through your pants, you realize you're not kneeling on just snow. It's ice, not loam, under the layers of powder. Pure ice. The surface of a frozen river.

"Stop!" you shout, seeing Soap rapidly approaching the high bank. "Don't come any closer." The deep, echoing snaps of cracking ice echo around you as if to punctuate your point.

Soap slides to a stop at the edge. His eyes go from the gun at your head straight down to the snow-covered ice. Comprehension dawns on his face. If he drops down to the already-damaged surface below, it will break and plunge all of you into the black water underneath.

His eyes flash to Horangi. “Let her go.”

“Back off,” Horangi says from behind you. “Right now, or I shoot her right here.”

That makes no sense. He’s bluffing, you know it. But you also know Soap won’t risk your life. His expression hardens.

The ice groans again. Your life is on a timer. You can’t outrun or overpower Horangi. You need to find another way.

“Your buyer,” you say lowly to Horangi. “I want to talk to your buyer.”

Horangi's grip on your neck doesn’t loosen. His silence is all the answer you need.

"Call him up. I want to talk to him."

"You're not in any position to negotiate.”

Tension rolls off Soap like a physical force. He’s coiled like a viper. His team approaches around him, all of them trying to analyze the situation. If he weren’t outnumbered, you suspect Soap would rush forward anyway, damn the risks. He looks ready to tear Horangi limb from limb. If he had a clean shot, he’d take it. But he’s not fool enough to give Horangi a reason to hurt you, either. It’s a stalemate.

"You let me talk to him or I'll make sure this ice breaks before either of us make it to shore,” you hiss.

Horangi considers it. You can't give him the time to think his way out of this. You lean your weight onto one knee--putting more pressure onto a smaller surface area of the ice. It cracks again.

“Dammit, don’t!” Soap snaps, taking a step forward. Ghost’s hand on his shoulder stops him.

Another moment of silence. Tense. The cold wind whistles past your ears. You hear the deep groans and snaps as the ice warps.

Then Horangi scoffs. "Still trying to out-bluff me?"

He yanks you back, sliding you toward the shore, trying to keep you from putting weight on the ice. You throw yourself in the opposite direction, slamming yourself back against the cold surface. The crack of pain against your spine reverberates through your entire body.

You try to get to your feet. The crackling sound, like snapping cables, is everywhere. Horangi is cool under pressure, but he holds his shoulders more rigidly than you’ve ever seen him. He walks toward you with the zip tie still in hand.

You struggle to your feet and go at him. You drive your weight into his body and fight like hell to keep you both on the river, where you have leverage. He fights to throw you onto shore. You’re so close to getting away. You just need an opening.

Soap shouts. You don’t hear what he’s saying. Despite your injury, You use every bit of your weight and speed as if to force both of you thought the ice. You keep moving, slipping out of his reach every time he tries to grab hold of you. Every time, the ice and it shifts with a snap, threatening to break and send you both tumbling into the dark water below. In the tangle, you get close enough to grab blindly at his belt and pack. You aim to grab his handgun. Your hand closes around something else--a frag. Almost as good.

You jerk back and hold it up so he can see it. Your breath is shaky now, coming out in uneven puffs. It feels like all the body heat you have left is bleeding out of the wound in your side. But it works as intended. Everyone quiets. Even the ice stops crackling. Horangi’s eyes narrow.

So you pull the pin. You keep your finger on the switch, but you and everyone else know the explosion would blow you, Horangi, and anyone else on the ice to hell.

"Call the buyer," you say quietly. "Or you won't even have a corpse to trade."

He looks at you with a cold, even glare. You know what he's thinking: you might be bluffing, you might not. And after the way you’ve been acting, he isn't willing to bet his life on it.

The cold wind whistles between you and raises goosebumps on your numb skin.

Finally, he pulls out his phone and dials a number. He says something into it quietly. Then he looks at you, steps forward, and hands it to you.

You take it. You don't have to tell him to back off--the live grenade in your hand is enough warning for him. He walks backward off the frozen river and back onto shore to give you all the space you’d need to blow yourself up.

As soon the pressure of his weight is off the ice, the creaking ice shifts and settles again. You feel lightheaded with the loss of blood. You sway but manage to keep your balance.

"Hen, please," Soap calls. "Go with him. Just stay off the ice." Never thought he'd be saying this, but he'd rather you be in someone else's custody than dead. He wants you to come to him so badly, but he's much further up the riverbank. There's no way for him to jump down to you without cracking the ice; there's no way for you to get up to him one-handed. You won't be able to climb the icy rock and earth separating you. The only way is downriver, and while Soap's eyes sweep every part of the river in sight, he can't seem to find a solution. When you don't react, he looks to Horangi instead. "Take her off the damn ice!" he shouts.

Horangi crosses his arms and says nothing. The message is clear: he did what he could; you're the one forcing his hand.

You hold the phone up to your ear. To your chilled skin, it's warm to the touch. You hold it with both hands, leaning it against the frag and cupping the other hand around the receiver to catch your voice amidst the wind. You swallow, trying to wet your mouth enough to rasp out a few words. But it's the man on the other end of the line, your buyer, who speaks first.

"Hey, 86." Graves. You can hear him smiling around your old Shadow Company call number. "Heard you're in a bit of a predicament."

...

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animeyanderelover · 5 months ago

Text

Anon: Soulmate AU headcanons for Akashi, Murasakibara, Aomine, Satoru Gojo, Illumi, Draco Malfoy and Inumaki Toge. I don’t have anything specific in mind besides probably a couple of details: can I ask it to be 1)meeting his soulmate for the first time for Gojo(maybe there was a prophecy when he was born) and Illumi, and 2)finding out that their s/o is the soulmate for KnB boys after they started courting them? Will they use this fact as an excuse for their actions or they can finally become less anxious and paranoid, because they “own” their darlings by fate?

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive relationship, toxic relationship, obsession, delusional behavior, stalking, clinginess, manipulation, blackmailing, guilt-tripping, isolation, abduction, paranoia, threats, violence

Tags: @jamayah @chxxz @leveyani @cynniical @shenryu-sama @maggiequinn59 @lovley-valentine7

Soulmate AU

Illumi Zoldyck

🤎A newborn baby crying, the pause of the nurse holding him as she held him before her eyes glazed over, her Nen suddenly spiking up before she spoke with a voice that didn't belong to her, declaring the boy to be incomplete for his other half, his soulmate, is not with him. A prophecy that has been following Illumi's life since he could comprehend words. It is the first story that was ever told to him, his first memory he could ever recall in full detail. The notion of a soulmate has always confused him and since he is one of the few individuals born with it, no one from his family could help him as neither one of them was born with one. He has never understood it. Is he incomplete? Is his current condition the feeling of imperfection? How will he even find his soulmate? How will he know that they are the one? What will it feel like? So many questions yet so little answers, the phenomenon of soulmates bound together by fate a rare instance that no one could give him throughout his youth any useful information.

🤎Time flies, Illumi becomes an adult and infamous assassin yet he still remains without his destined soulmate. Though his expressionless face may not give it away, this bothers him deep down. Whilst he still doesn't know what it will feel like when he finally meets them, he only knows that there is someone out there who belongs to him and who isn't by his side. His soulmate isn't with him even if destiny has molded him and them to be made for each other. When he has free time he likes to spend it searching for hints to find a person who was also claimed to be born with a soulmate as soon as they left their mother's womb. His real attachment is limited though as it is simply the possessive courtesy of it all that pushes him to go on. Still unaware with the feelings he is about to experience, Illumi considers to take his soulmate simply as if they were an object specifically designed for him. There will be nothing wrong with it either as his soulmate is his and for that he can do what he wants to do with them.

🤎People screaming, guns being fired, needles embedding themselves into the skull of the shooters, bodies dropping, fighting and killing. All of it is background noise to Illumi on another mission. No survivors are to be left. Black eyes dart around the room, counting all of the people attempting to flee before they are also stopped by his needles. Then his eyes land on you, the long and cold needle already in the palm of his hand. All he has to do is throw it and watch your lifeless body dropping to the ground. He has done it already hundreds of times before. His body doesn't move though. It is like every muscle in his body has turned to ice, the world suddenly narrowing down until only you and him seem to exist, even if only for a few moments. You remain leaning against the wall as he strides closer to you, walking through the bodies littering the ground all whilst black and captivating eyes do not pull away from you. The silence is thick as soon as he stops, his body only inches away from you all whilst his eyes seemingly try to glimpse into your very soul.

🤎Cold hands suddenly grab your face, guiding your head so that your gaze is focused on him. His hands are cold and rough as if not knowing how to touch someone gently yet even if you feel the cold dread sending shivers down your spine, you find yourself unable to break eye contact with him. The man in front of you is still not saying anything, the silence thick and awkward yet you are too overwhelmed to speak up yourself. Until he finally seems to take pity on you and states bluntly that you must be his soulmate, a discovery he seems to tell himself more than you. Upon hearing those words you feel dull shock zapping through your veins. Really? This is your soulmate? You don't know how to react to the news but you don't need to think for too long either. Illumi simply knocks you out, your world submerging into darkness as he catches you whilst your legs lose their strength. He instantly returns to the Zoldyck mansion and gathers all possible information about you that he can get his hands on. As soon as you wake up, he'll already be waiting for you to explain your new situation to you. You'll stay with him. You belong to him after all and now that he has found you, he won't let you get away.

Aomine Daiki

💙Aomine gets to know you through Momoi as the pink-haired girl has befriended you outside of school and insists on you getting to know her childhood friend. You've heard of Aomine before as he is rather famous due to his aptitude in basketball. You won't lie, he has always appeared as a rather intimidating individual on TV but Momoi assures you that he has a good heart under that rough shell. She has to drag his lazy ass to the meeting as he is initially quite unmotivated to come and simply tags along because he knows that Momoi wouldn't give him any peace otherwise. That bored attitude of his disappears the moment he catches a glimpse of you though. Almost immediately he seems to be starstruck and he is so thoroughly unprepared for it that he nearly trips when you turn around and look at him. It's only thanks to his reflexes that he saves himself a big embarrassment on that day. Overwhelmed with the way his heart suddenly goes crazy inside of his chest though, the normally intimidating man turns rather flustered on that day but still manages to pay attention to your every word.

💙The tables turn from that day on as he is suddenly the one bothering Momoi. He wants your number, your address and if he can't reach you Daiki turns to his friend and asks her if she can try so that he can meet you again. The fact that you attend a different high school than he does is messing with his mind daily. He's simmering with frustrated irritation that has caused his temper to worsen dangerously and on some day he skipped school completely only to turn up in your school. You're always slightly scared but you can't deny that a part of you has longed secretly for him as well. You only wish that he would be less aggressive whenever he sees you interacting with other classmates or being more touchy and friendly with your friends. It's not a secret that he wants you for himself, he has bluntly told you that much one time, promising you that he'd make you his. His words left you stunned yet you couldn't help the feeling of your heart pounding against your chest after his vow, a strange excitement rushing through your veins.

💙You do not rush things though as you make it wordlessly clear to Aomine that you aren't that easy. You still have your own pride after all. As frustrating as that is for him at times, he'd be damned to back away from your silent challenge. Fine by him. He'll show you that he's going to fight for you. It is no surprise for Momoi when Daiki approaches her and asks her for advice on how to court you properly. She has been watching the development of you two for a while now after all and she is all too eager to help him. For a while things work out just fine as Aomine courts you like you wanted him to court you and in return you stay away from any other romantic involvement. It's during a date that things take a more dramatic turn. You felt particularly bold on that day and initiated the first kiss. The moment your lips touch his though, your mind is suddenly spammed with memories and emotions that do not belong to you. It's too much at once and frightens you. You pull away and stumble back in shock, your vision blurred as you try to comprehend what just happened.

💙You don't get far away though as Aomine suddenly grabs you by your arms and yanks you back to him, instantly pulling you back into a rough and hungry kiss. This time there are no memories at least but your mind is still trying to recover from what you just saw all whilst your oxygen is cut off by Daiki who seemingly tries to devour you through the kiss. Only when you hit his biceps urgently does he finally pull away, giving you some time to gasp for air before he presses you against his body and keeps you there, wrapped in his arms whilst murmuring in a rumbling voice that you really are his. You are his soulmate. After that realisation settles in, Daiki sees no reason to not make your relationship official. Both of you were born for each other after all. His irritation if someone should every try to make a move on you will only increase as you belong to him in ways their shitty minds could never comprehend and he's more prone to use violence which is why you always have to stop him before he breaks someone's jaw.

Murasakibara Atsushi

🍭Born a normal and healthy baby, things took a unique turn when Atsushi was only a few months old. A peculiar birthmark appeared right above his pelvis in the shape of a bonbon. Its shape has always been unique and nowadays Murasakibara wonders if perhaps it is this strange mark that has made him crave sweets so much the older he grew. He may have displayed some mild interest in this birthmark of his when he was younger but as he grew older, he kind of starts to forget about its existence. After all it is just there on his body without posing any risk to his health like his parents initially fretted it to be when it just randomly appeared overnight. He doesn't really care when other people notice it either when he changes and address it to him as he treats it nonchalantly. It is strangely enough in college that for the first time he feels something going on with the birthmark. The spot starts getting hot, especially when he passes a convenience store. It isn't painful though, just noticable for him so Atsushi brushes it off. The only reason he visits the convenience store is to buy sweets and ice cream. Well, and to see you since you work part-time in there.

🍭You're pretty cute, he'll admit that much. Normally Atsushi takes longer to warm up to people around him but one flustered grin from you the first time he visited the store was all it took for his heart to beat out of his chest. The both of you seem to instantly connect with each other and the relief he feels when you tell him that you actually attend the same college as him is unspeakable, though you two have different subjects. From that day on you have this giant of a man following you around everywhere on campus but you truly don't mind as you have also struggled a bit to make new connections in the college. You always bring him snacks and sweets you could get for a discount in the store you work in since you know how much he adores such things and he always wants you to feed him the food, pretending to be too lazy to open the packages and eat them himself when in reality he just wants you to give him the attention and affection. His birthmark is noticably warm whenever he is around you, his hand sometimes subconsciously placing itself over the spot.

🍭It is during a hot summerday that he sees it. A strong breeze sweeps through the hot streets and you stretch out your arms, relishing in the cooling wind as the weat is gathering on your temples. Your shirt is lifted up enough to show off a sliver of your skin and Atsushi's eyes are instantly drawn to it, lazily observing it before his gaze is glued to a spot right above your pelvis. You let out a startled shriek when large hands suddenly grab your waist and hold you still and you start struggling when one of his hands lifts up your shirt before tugging your pants down a bit. As soon as his fingers brush over the bonbon-shaped mark, he feels a zap of heat going straight to his own mark all whilst feeling the own drum of heat gathering on the spot on your skin. You let out a gasp when you feel it before you somehow manage to push yourself away, stumbling back before catching your balance. One of your hands clasps your birthmark before glancing at him with confused fright. As a response Atsushi wordlessly lifts his own shirt, showing off the identical mark that he has on his skin.

🍭In hindsight it now makes all sense. The birthmark was a soulmate mark all along and appeared on the day you were born. Perhaps it's because the notion of soulmates used to be always somewhat ridiculous to him that Murasakibara never considered the mark on his body to be an indication that he had one himself. Even the instant attraction he felt upon seeing you for the first time now makes sense and through heated cheeks you admit that you felt a similar pull to him when you spotted him for the first time. The only difference seems to be that you ask for more time to come to term with the changed situation whilst Atsushi is instantly willing to skip a few steps and start a relationship. Your hesitation confuses him. You admitted to feeling the same as he does and in all of the fairy tales regarding soulmates both people almost always end up falling in love with each other and getting together instantly. Why do you want to do it differently? Both of you are going to be together anyways so you two might as well start now.

Akashi Seijuro

🏆Shy glances thrown in his direction, hesitating eyes always glued to his back as soon as he lets you believe that he is not looking your way all whilst being very aware of the way your eyes keep on being drawn to him. From the very first day you found out who he is, Seijuro has taken notice of your frightened curiosity in regards to him. You've never talked to him nor approached him yet he knows that you keep on looking at him only to quickly glance away as soon as his gaze meets yours. You are not the first person who has admired him like this, from a safe distance but it is the first time Akashi has found himself equally as invested. There is just something about you that demands his attention even with the writting of the first sentence his soulmate will say to him tattoed on his abdomen ever since he emerged from the womb of his mother. It's utter nonsense what is written on there, a sentence which makes absolutely no sense as if the person chose random nouns and verbs and tried to construct a sentence out of it. He has often wondered in what state of mind his soulmate must be in when conjuring up these words to him.

🏆Recognising that you seem to be satisfied watching him idly from the distance, Akashi decides to make the first move and approach you. He waits though until he knows that you are alone before he suddenly emerges, introducing himself once more to you now that all of your attention is on him. The moment those words leave his lips and he stands in front of you, you freeze like a deer caught in the headlight. Your eyes widen and you stare at him in shock and surprise. His eyebrows furrow a tad bit when he sees your peculiar reaction but just as he is about to ask you what is wrong you bow wordlessly before fleeing the scene, leaving him standing there stunned. Soon Akashi learns that this seems to be a common thing you love to do as soon as you spot him. The moment you spot him you turn the opposite direction as if both of you are like poles of a magnet who repel each other. Another thing he notices is that you never talk to him directly. You either shake or nod your head or talk to one of your friends whilst answering his question without speaking to him. It's an insult and low-key disrespectful, only adding to his growing frustration.

🏆He feels his darker self slowly emerging as you keep on avoiding him, scheming and wondering if he should perhaps resort to other methods which would get him to his goal even if it means blackmailing you. One last chance. He decides to give you one last chance by using the school principal and convince him to tell you to visit the office later. The moment you are inside and are slightly confused when finding no one inside, he also steps into the room and locks the door up. His gaze is sharp, a contrast to his deceivingly soothing words as he assures you that he just wants to talk with you. Your eyes dart nervously around as you look in that moment more like a cornered animal than anything. You grit your teeth as he demands in a soft tone that you talk to him as Seijuro can almost see the way the gears turn in your head before you ball your hands into fist and open your mouth, spitting out whatever random words your mind produces in that moment. Deadly silence befalls the room and when you dare to hesitantly open your eyes and glance at his face, you nearly scramble away as you see his pupils quivering whilst he stares at you with gleaming eyes.

🏆He doesn't say anything, instead his fingers unbutton his uniform. You ask him frightened what he is doing before he reveals his abdomen to you, your eyes landing on the writing etched onto his skin. You are in utter disbelief that the jumble of words you just spat out is actually engraved on his skin. His voice slices through the room as he demands you to show him your own writing, leaving no room for objection. You hesitantly tug down your own uniform to show him the tattoo on your collarbone and he clenches his jaw the moment he sees his own name engraved on it, recalling instantly that this was the first thing he ever said to you. You knew. Even before both of you had spoken a word to each other you had already known about him being your soulmate. Why did you never tell him? He doesn't allow you to leave the room until you have told him everything, anger and disappointment tightly woven into each other. You find yourself unable to lie anymore and just admit to him that his status as well as the rumors you heard of him intimidated you. He can only let out a dry chuckle as he grasps your hands and presses a kiss against your knuckles. Now, who filled your head with such nonsense?

Inumaki Toge

🗣️There has always been a voice inside his head, an internal voice that organised his thoughts and held his inner monologues. He's been told that a lot of people have such an internal voice yet he has always wondered if his internal voice is supposed to be one that doesn't belong to him. He has never heard the voice inside of his head before yet it is still there and always holds his inner monologues and thoughts for him. Toge knows this voice in his head better than he knows what his own voice sounds like as he rarely speaks and if he does, he does so in only short words by using ingredients to not endanger anyone with his abilities. At one point he decides that perhaps the voice really is just a product of his own mind or he did actually meet someone with that voice before but simply forgot whilst his mind somehow still remembers. As he grows older, the voice inside his head also matures and he wonders if that is simply because his mind is trying to tell him that he has also matured.

🗣️Then one day he hears the voice in his head. Only that this time it isn't confined to only his own mind. No, his ears pick up the soud of a voice that he is more familiar with than with the sound of his own mind. A sudden urge to turn around overcomes him and as if he were possessed he acts on this urge as he suddenly walks through the streets, desperately trying to find the source of the voice. Then he spots the source of the voice and his body instantly stops. Only a few feet away from him are you, on your phone as you busily discuss something with someone without even noticing his presence. A weird warmth washes over him as he hears you talking energetically whilst you walk through the street and without noticing it, Inumaki starts following you. He loses any feeling of time as he slowly walks behind you, his eyes never leaving your back. Apparently you notice him at one point though as you suddenly turn around, your eyes narrowing as you spot him. That's when he suddenly seems to regain his senses and leave his trance as he bows sheepishly before turning around and leaving.

🗣️The voice is gone from that day on. There is no familiar sound inside of his head anymore and the emptiness almost overhwelms him. He blasts music into his ears all in an attempt to blend out the silence that rings louder than anything else he has ever perceived and he finds himself missing the sound of a voice, a voice that has belonged all of his life to you. Toge knows that he has to see you again, knows that he somehow needs to find a way to discuss with you what is going on. If he has been hearing your voice inside of his head for his entire life, do you perhaps still experience hearing his voice inside of your head? He stopped hearing his internal voice when he heard the real source of it but you haven't heard his voice. Does that mean that you still can hear him inside of your mind? He spends days wandering through Tokyo in desperate attempts to find you yet finding the infamous needle in the haystack would have been an easier task than finding you between millions of people. A lump of anxiety and stress rests in his gut as he feels himself growing quite anxious. Until he finds you one day in the same spot where he found you first. It's almost as if you have been waiting for him...

🗣️He leads you to a more isolated place where the both of you can enjoy more privacy before he tentatively speaks in the only language he can use to not activate his abilities. Your face morphs into confused shock when you hear him suddenly saying the name of an ingredient but above all it is the sheer familiarity in his voice that completely catches you by surprise. Once again your eyes narrow as you observe him and the hint of apprehension and distrust in your gaze almost breaks his heart. He does not want you to look at him like this. You ask him who he is and Inumaki knows that he has a lot of explaining to do, especially since you are a non-sorcerer. He tries to be gentle and careful as he slowly introduces you to a world you did not know of prior to meeting him as well as the concept of soulmates that is more commonly known amongst people who are able to control and use cursed energy than normal humans like you. He finds himself longing for the sound of your voice since he's been listening to it since his youngest days and tries to communicate more with you as well since you probably feel the same.

Gojo Satoru

🩵Gojo Satoru has always been the special one. From the moment he was first born into the world, he was gifted with power that would be feared by everybody. Perhaps it is because fate already knew of the lonely future he would be burdened with as the strongest sorcerer of his time that he was given a soulmate. A prophecy that befell the eldest of the Gojo clan who proclaimed that his soulmate would be the only one who Gojo would be able to truly see and that his soulmate would likewise be the only one who would be able to truly perceive him. The prophecy was strictly kept as a secret though, even from Satoru as no one knew what would happen if information would leak outside. From his youngest days on countless people tried to murder him, to restore the balance of the sorcerer world that had been thrown out of bounds the moment he had been born. Only when Satoru was deemed to be old enough did the clan decide to tell him the truth of the prophecy that had appeared when he was born and he was warned to strictly keep it a secret as he was reminded that other people were just waiting for a weakness they could use against him.

🩵Satoru, who had already been disillusioned from any innocence from a very young age on, complied surprisingly enough with the wishes of his clan. He knew best after all how many people wanted him dead and to what lengths they were willing to go to murder him. They wouldn't bat their eyelashes to spare an innocent person or even non-sorcerers. He sometimes wonders what it would be like to meet his soulmate and what the prophecy meant by proclaiming that his soulmate would be the only person he would be able to truly see. Another part of him hoped that he would never find you as he grew older and experienced the true loneliness that came with being Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer and tool of his world. Perhaps he'd never meet you in the first place and as much loneliness that thought brought him sometimes, even more than he already felt deep down, he tried to come to terms with that thought. It would be best for his life as well as your life if the both of you would never meet.

🩵A gasp of air is heard behind him as someone collides with his body, bags carrying groceries drop to the ground as he feels smaller arms wrapping themselves around his waist so that that the person doesn't lose their balance. Such a simple touch yet his whole body reacts. A warmth he has never felt before prickles his skin as he can perceive his own heartbeat speeding up as waves of feelings pulse through his body. He turns around, removing the sunglasses he is wearing as his eyes land on you who is still clinging to his torso before your gaze also moves up and you instantly let go. You apologise, embarrassed and sheepish as you bow over and over again all whilst Satoru looks at you in disbelief. He sees you. Not his Six Eyes. His actual human eyes see you. And you touched him. You broke through his Infinity as if it was nothing and touched him, stumbled against him and now panic whilst apologising over and over again, unaware of who he is. It's like he experiences a tunnel vision as he blurs everything out, only perceiving you with basic human senses as he experiences something that is incredibly hard to explain with words.

🩵It's only when he feels your hand grasping his shoulder and shaking him carefully that he is suddenly brought back to the real world. You look worried at him and when you ask him why he is crying, Satoru suddenly realises the wetness dripping down his cheeks. He's crying. Whatever it was he just experienced, it was enough to bring him to tears. You offer him a tissue to wipe his tears away before you gather your bags that fell on the ground again, not minding your surroundings. But Satoru does. Suddenly the noises and the liveliness of the city is anxiety-inducing. Blue eyes dart back and forth, trying to perceive anyone or anything that could pose a threat to you whilst you innocently collect your bags, oblivious to the inner turmoil he experiences. It is only when you stand up again and awkwardly bid him your goodbye that his hand reaches out and wraps carefully around your wrist, forcing you to stop and turn around to look at him again. You want to say something but one glance into those bright blue orbs punches all air out of your lungs, too many emotions staring back at you all at once.

Draco Malfoy

You've always despised Malfoy from the very first year of Hogwarts. Slytherin students have already a reputation for being arrogant and evil but he has always been an especially big pain in the arse. His family is pure-blooded and rich and he embodies everything you loathe about the ideologies of some wizards and witches in this world. You're in a different house than him and you are immensely proud of that yet share a lot of classes with Draco and are constantly submitted to his condescending remarks and his pathetic tries to get your attention. No matter what you do, he always seems to just wait for the next chance to embarrass and provoke you, especially once you befriend Harry and his circle of friends. He scoffs at you, jokes within earshot of you how fitting it is for you as a loser to join the group of weaklings. Ron and Hermione had to stop Harry and you more than once from throwing spells with him and his friends, Hermione always reminding you that this is exactly what Malyfoy wants.

You think he just hates you but that could not be further away from the truth. In fact Malfoy actually is utterly infatuated with you but is clueless and overwhelmed with those feelings. He wants you to love him yet you can't stand him and instead have chosen Potter and the mudbloods over him. Why? What do these people have that he doesn't? Insulted and hurt with his feelings he started to spite you to release some of the bitterness he feels due to your decision but mainly because deep down he is just desperate for your attention. Worst of all is that throughout the years you learn to control yourself better. Instead of hating on him you now just glance at him as if he was a slimy worm under the heel of your shoes and it drives him mad when you observe him with such a cold gaze. How dare you... How dare you to look at him as if he were no better than an insect?! Do you even know what his family is capable of?! The more indifferent you treat him, the more extreme his attempts to get your attention get. Look at him! Just look at him for once with all of your undivided attention!!

Then he goes too far when he targets your friends. The very same day he receives a note from you where you challenge him to a duel, furious and fed up with his attitude. Your anger is only fueled when he brings Crabbe and Goyle with him. You lash out, call him a wimp and a coward before he hisses at you to shut up. Please...he just wants to talk with you. He knows that this is a rare chance, to have you all alone like this so he uses it to do the unlikely. He confesses to you. He admits to you how he has been feeling for all those years, insults you by openly telling you how he feels about the friends you chose over him. You're dumbfounded by the end of his rant, your mind utterly stunned for a moment before your face twists into a disgusted sneer that Draco feels to the marrow of his bones. You opt to just leave instead without even saying anything, only angering the desperate boy even more as he grabs you, his skin touching yours. A sharp and burning pain suddenly cuts through your wrist and Malfoy feels the same as he stumbles back and lets out a string of curses, clutching his wrist before his eyes widen as he looks at your name being etched onto it whilst you stare at his name being etched onto yours.

You threaten him on that night with your wand pressed against his temple to not tell a single soul about this. The very next day as you walk into the hall for breakfast you are instantly flooded by other students from all houses, one of them tugging the sleeves away from your wrist to reveal his name written on it. Some are shocked, others jealous and you receive a punishment later that day for chasing after Draco and firing spells at him. You're enraged beyond words. Of course he'd run his pathetic mouth to state to everyone that you are his simply to feel like he has any sort of control over you. You avoid him like the pest from that day on and as a result he only gets more unbearable. Some of your friends approach him and tell him that just because you two are soulmates you do not belong to him and he flips out and hisses at them that they don't know anything. You are his. If at all, they should stop acting like you belong to them. Eventually you find yourself with a letter in your hand, the name Lucius Malfoy telling you all you need to know even before opening it and reading the content where you are 'friendly' invited to visit them during the holidays.

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ellecdc · 9 months ago

Text

A Man With a Plan.2

prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU

CW: angst, smoking, mention of vomiting, Remus spiralling, Peter being v worried, James being a doting mother hen, Sirius being a cheeky bastard.

Remus didn’t stay in potions that day.

He gave Professor Slughorn a hasty excuse and beelined it from the room, earning him bemused stares from Peter, James, and Sirius. He couldn’t stay there – he couldn’t breathe the air you’d been breathing – it hurt, it burned, it was too much.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” He huffed to himself as he shakily made his way to Gryffindor tower. He held his hand to his chest the whole way, heaving as if he was close to throwing up – he wasn’t fully convinced he that wouldn’t.

As soon as he walked into (stumbled into) his dorm he flung the window open and shoved his head (most of his torso) out of the window – hungry for fresh air. The change in temperature and slight breeze did calm him slightly, but now he could hear Moony with renewed fervor.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. He seemed to be whimpering morosely.

“She’s not yours.” Remus grumbled. That seemed to aggravate Moony somewhat, as well as piss himself off for talking aloud to...well...himself, sort of?

He hated this.

Remus sat half out the window drinking water and chain-smoking until his roommates returned from their final class.

“What the fuck happened to you, Moons?” Sirius asked as he threw his book bag onto his bed before beginning to strip out of his uniform.

“Fucked if I know.” He grumbled, throwing the butt of his cigarette out the window.

“You feelin’ alright?” James asked, brows furrowed as if Remus was a particularly difficult arithmancy problem.

“I think it’s quite clear that I’m not.” He spat as he pulled out another cigarette and lit it with the snap of his fingers.

“Blimey, Moony. Wasn’t the full moon last week?” Sirius asked incredulously.

It was too much, all of it: the nickname, the moon talk, their voices. The hearth in the room surged and then extinguished again; Remus was officially diminished to accidental magic like he was some kind of unruly toddler.

“Shit, Remus. Relax, okay? We’re sorry.” James placated, watching his mate cautiously as Remus took some steadying breaths.

“What’s gotten into you mate?” Sirius asked quietly after Remus appeared to calm himself.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I don’t feel like...myself.” He settled for, trying to drown out Moony’s pathetically forlorn howling in the back of his mind.

“Alright.” James said. “That’s alright.”

Remus wanted to vomit. Is that not what you had just said to him a few hours ago?

“Do you need to go to see Pomfrey?” Peter asked.

“No.” Maybe.

“Alright, well we’ll bring you something up for dinner.” He offered with a smile. Remus felt like he should return the smile, but he couldn’t bring himself to try.

Remus did eventually go to see Madame Pomfrey, though he kept the full extent of his current predicament to himself. He trudged through the halls, hating the fact that Moony seemed to pick up on your scent, signifying you had been down this hall yourself at some point during the day.

Must go. Must go. Must go. Moony begged.

Go to Madame Pomfrey and then to bed. Remus mentally berated the wolf - the wolf growled in discontent. Remus was becoming increasingly worried about what he’d be like near the full when Moony was closer to the forefront of Remus’ control.

Remus claimed nerves and a migraine as the cause of his request for sleeping draught for the night. The matron narrowed her eyes at Remus, clearly aware the boy wasn’t being entirely honest, but acquiesced to his request nonetheless.

Remus supposed he probably should have requested a dreamless sleep potion instead.

His dreams were littered with images of you. Some were lovely – you and him walking hand-in-hand through bookstores and flower shops, sharing milkshakes and ice cream, snuggling up near the fire, as well as some...steamier dreams. But they were always chased away by horrible ones – you being chased by The Wolf, you finding out about him and running away terrified, you being bitten, you being killed. And those were always followed by his friends becoming disgusted with him, abandoning him, him ending up in Azkaban.

They made him sick.

Literally made him sick; he woke up with a start and bodied James on his way to the bathroom to eject last night’s supper out of his system.

“Moons, what’s going on mate?” James asked quietly, clearly having been getting ready for a run before he was bulldozed by his mate, as Remus moved to the sink and readied his toothbrush.

“Please don’t call me that.” Remus moaned.

James seemed to consider him for a few moments before he spoke again.

“Is Moo- is the wolf giving you problems?” He corrected at the glare he was shot by Remus.

Remus sighed and nodded his head.

“Can’t be moon sickness? You’ve got three weeks.”

Remus finished brushing his teeth and rinsed his mouth out before turning to look at James.

“I don’t know. I think...” but he didn’t know how to finish his sentence. How did he explain that Moony has apparently become obsessed with and hyper-fixated on one of James’ best friends and was actively campaigning to have Remus thrown into the psych ward at St. Mungo’s? “When you guys were researching on how to become animagi, you were first doing research on werewolves, right?”

James responded by nodding his head in the positive.

“What’d you find? On werewolves, I mean.” Remus asked.

James grimaced. “Next to nothing, really; we found books and books full of anti-werewolf propaganda before we found anything even remotely helpful.”

“What book was it? The helpful one.”

“There was one line in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them that said werewolves solely target human prey and are less interested in other animals as opposed to ‘true’ wolves.” James said.

Remus sighed and nodded. “Okay, thank you.”

“What’s going on?” James tried again.

Remus just shook his head at this friend. “I don’t know yet, I’ll see what I find.”

“You don’t have to do this alone; you know? You’ve got us here.” James said as he followed Remus out of the bathroom.

“I know Prongs. I’ll let you know if I need anything.” Remus said with a tired smile. He was lucky, really, he knew that. He had wonderful friends – he’d do anything to keep them.

Which just meant keeping Moony away from you.

Unfortunately for Remus, James had been right; the only useful information he could find in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them that a) he didn’t already know or b) wasn't prejudiced or incorrect was the line James had referenced.

“The main difference is in the way they behave; a werewolf is very aggressive in comparison to a true-wolf; they prefer and target human prey, seemingly uninterested in other animals. Though some rumours claim that werewolves will create bonds with animals and other wolves: ‘were’ or ‘true’.”

Remus was ready to give up when he noticed a footnote at the bottom of the page:

(22) From an unknown author’s first-hand account of lycanthropy in Hairy Snout, Human Heart: 1737.

He looked through the works cited section of the text and found the book, which appeared to be an autobiography of an unnamed wizard afflicted with lycanthropy from the 18th century. Remus knew the chances of him finding that book in the Hogwarts library were slim to none. Now I’ll have to wait until the next Hogsmeade weekend to try Tomes & Scrolls.

Remus (unwillingly) learned a lot about you as he (impatiently) awaited for the next Hogsmeade weekend.

You had a single dimple on your left cheek that only ever appeared when you smiled brightly. Granted, since you were generally soft around all of your edges, it didn’t appear too often. But it was almost guaranteed to make at least one appearance during every one of your interactions with James.

He hated the both of you.

You hummed. A lot. Sometimes to the tunes of songs Remus could recognize, sometimes to tunes he was sure you’ve made up. It was always quiet humming, and only ever when you were focused intently on a task. It sounded lovely and was almost always accompanied by your tongue poking out slightly between your lips.

He hated it.

You always had some piece of nature on your person. Either grass from having been sat on the grounds, dirt on your hands from your time in the greenhouses, a flower tucked into a pocket or – God forbid – your hair. It was sort of adorable.

He hated that even more.

You made a soft tingling or jingling sound as you walked and moved on account of the many beaded bracelets decorating your wrists. It wasn’t just the sound of the jewelry – because Sirius was similar with his many pieces of silver jewelry decorating his person – but the sound was distinctly yours. And Remus Moony seemed to be able to pick it up from yards away.

It was awful.

You also smelled heavenly. You were lavender blowing in the sea breeze, eucalyptus in a steamy shower, and the fresh grass you seemed to drag in every time you stepped outside. There was also something about you that smelled so distinctly you that drove him mad. He could pick up your scent anywhere.

And that was the worst part.

You were everywhere.

He’d been actively avoiding you since that fateful day in potions, and he still couldn’t escape you. Even if he couldn’t see you, he could hear you and your damned jingles or gentle giggles at something James said to you. And even if you weren’t there, he could still smell that you had been, and then he’d be stuck with Moony’s incessant whining for the rest of the day that they’d ‘just missed you’.

Remus hated it. He hated you for existing. He hated James for befriending you. But he mostly hated himself.

He hated that he got so angry about this; he hated that part of him blamed you for the horrible crime of having been born and that another part of him blamed James for the equally horrible crime of being kind.

He was the problem - Remus and his damned affliction. He just didn’t understand what Moony’s issue was; Remus (and Moony) had met many people throughout his life – Moony even had his own pack, for god’s sake! – what was so special about you to bring about this nonsense?

You seemed either completely unaware or completely unafflicted by Remus’ sudden coldness to you. There were times he’d stopped speaking midsentence when you’d show up or he would out-and-out walk away. James had clearly been annoyed with him about it, but you were still never anything but kind towards him. He was simultaneously grateful to you for it and peeved you were giving him more reasons to like you.

James - still being slightly miffed with his mate for his abruptness towards you – was more than happy to leave him to search Tomes & Scrolls whilst he and Sirius and Peter went to The Three Broomsticks without him. Sirius shot him a confused look while Peter smiled at him sympathetically as they hobbled off after James.

They didn’t have the book he was looking for, but they were able to order it via owl and advised him they’d have it delivered straight to Hogwarts for him.

Reluctantly resigning to his fate that he’d have to wait even longer to find answers, he exited the shop when he slammed into something with a solid oof.

He, being the lanky, larger-than-he-looks werewolf that he was, was able to shake off the collision with little-to-no effort.

You, on the other hand.

You.

Moony started howling in horror when Remus saw you leaning up onto your elbows from the cold cobblestoned road that Remus himself just knocked you into.

“Oh, shit Y/N, are you alright?” He breathed as he hastily reached out his hand to help you up.

Big mistake.

Moony stopped howling and started nearly singing with joy when your skin met his. Prepared for the burning/cold/pain/joy/fear he experienced last time you made contact with him; he was surprised when he only felt peace wash through his person.

Time seemed to slow as you used his support to stand back up again and offer him a breezy smile.

“I’m terribly sorry about that, Remus. Are you alright?” You asked as if you had just bodied him into the ground.

“I – uh, yes. Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” He asked as he shook his head in confusion.

“Oh, I’m alright. I’m no stranger to spending time on the ground – I’m really quite clumsy you know.” You explained solemnly. He breathed a small laugh at your self-degradation.

“Well, it likely doesn’t help to have a big oaf act as a brick wall when you’re only trying to shop.”

You smiled so sweetly that Remus, the damn sod, couldn’t help but return it. Lo-and-behold, your dimple made an appearance. Moony (and Remus, reluctantly) relished in the fact that he was the one to elicit that wide a smile from you.

“That’s alright Remus. If you hadn’t, I might not have had a chance to apologize to you.”

Remus’ heart went to exit through his feet.

“Apologize? To me?” he asked.

You nodded. “I never meant to make you uncomfortable.”

It was weird that Remus could feel his heart crack painfully since it had already exited his body – but it stung anyway.

“You – you’re not... you haven’t done anything, Dove.” He said as he wiped a hand down his face, the pet-name slipping from his lips without his consent. “It’s me. I promise. I’m a freak.”

You offered him a simple smile, though your eyes seemed to ooze sympathy. “I’ve been told I’m quite odd myself.”

Remus chuckled. “Who told you that? Tell them I want to talk.”

You seemed slightly confused but laughed at his response nonetheless.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to figure out how to end this interaction while also mourning the coming loss of it. “Sorry for knocking you over, Y/N.” He offered quietly as he moved to walk away.

“Thank you for helping me up, Remus.” You responded with a smile as you entered Tomes & Scrolls.

Moony whined at his loss of your company.

Remus whined at Moony’s input.

True to the clerk’s word, a package arrived for Remus that week over breakfast in the Great Hall.

“What? Don’t you have enough books already, Moons?” Sirius asked with a smirk as he shovelled another spoon of cereal into his mouth. Remus responded with a (loving) two-fingered salute.

Remus had somewhat relaxed since your last encounter – there was no sense in punishing himself or you for Moony’s erratic behaviour, and he was sure he’d been driving his friends barmy with his mood swings. There was nothing for him to do except wait for more answers. And said answers were just delivered to him via owl.

“What are you reading now?” Peter asked as he tried to peer at Remus’ new book.

“It’s not a novel, Wormy. This is research.” He corrected.

“Gonna find out why you’re such a wanker?” Sirius snarked as he dodged a piece of bacon Remus threw at him.

“Okay, well, don’t waste food.” Peter chided quietly, looking disturbingly close to picking up said bacon from the ground.

“Hanging out with the lot of you seems to have finally done me in, Pads.” Remus snarked back as he vanished the piece of bacon vexing Peter.

James nodded solemnly. “Fair enough, honestly.”

Remus quickly tucked his new book into his bag before moving to stand.

“Where are you going?” Peter asked as he looked at Remus with ill-hidden concern.

“To the library. Gonna do some research.” He answered plainly as he patted his book bag.

“Rem,” James called out to him, causing him to pause his retreat and turn to him. “you don’t have to do this alone, right?” he continued more quietly.

Remus offered him a grateful smile. “I know Prongs, I’ll get back to you with my findings.”

Remus did noy know how he was going to report his findings back to his friends. This can’t have been it, can it? This isn’t what’s plaguing Remus? This can’t be real... There must be more...missing pages...

“...another version of lunar magic I’ve discovered in my travels - though extremely uncommon - is what some have called a ‘mating spark’. Along with the powerful lunar magic that drives the full-moon transformations and the surge of power it provides magical beings (wizards, witches, wix), there appears to be ‘soulmate’ magic involved with lycanthropy. Long been reduced to myth and lore within wizarding society, it appears the magic of soulmates may in fact be leftover knowledge from werewolf folktales. “The initial ‘spark’ is reported to be painful and distressing. After the initial connection is made, the wolf will become fixated on their mate. The lycanthrope may experience longing, feelings of discomfort when apart and heightened senses surrounding their mate. It has been told to me that feelings of devotion towards the wolf’s mate does not go away, regardless of whether the lycanthrope accepts the bond or not.”

“Fuck.” Remus breathed as he dropped the book onto the table with a thud.

Mine. Moony huffed in response, as if wagging his tail singing ‘I told you so’.

This just won’t do.

Continue to chapter three here.

Taglist: @hanniejji @y0urm0m12 @c0nsc10usworld @aphrcdites @starsval @thepunisherfrankcastle @anuncalledbridge @the-maniac-fly @unstablereader @rai-strangebr @sherry-needs-therapy, @klazina-couch-potato @cancelledkaley @fandom-crashlanding @ttulipwritezz @boo8008

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